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THE ENCYCLOPÆDIA BRITANNICA

A DICTIONARY OF ARTS, SCIENCES, LITERATURE AND GENERAL INFORMATION

ELEVENTH EDITION

 

VOLUME II SLICE III

Apollodorus to Aral


 

Articles in This Slice

Articles in This Section

APOLLODORUS (Athenian painter) APPREHENSION
APOLLODORUS (Athenian grammarian) APPRENTICESHIP
APOLLODORUS (of Carystus) APPROPRIATION
APOLLODORUS (Greek architect) APPURTENANCES
APOLLONIA APRAKSIN, THEDOR MATVYEEVICH
APOLLONIUS (the Surly) APRICOT
APOLLONIUS (Greek rhetorician) APRIES
APOLLONIUS (the Sophist) APRIL
APOLLONIUS MOLON APRIL-FOOLS’ DAY
APOLLONIUS OF PERGA A PRIORI
APOLLONIUS OF RHODES APRON
APOLLONIUS OF TRALLES APSARAS
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA APSE
APOLLONIUS OF TYRE APSE and APSIDES
APOLLOS APSINES
APOLLYON APT
APOLOGETICS APTERA
APOLOGUE APTERAL
APOLOGY APTIAN
APONEUROSIS APULEIUS, LUCIUS
APOPHTHEGM APULIA
APOPHYGE APURÉ
APOPHYLLITE APURIMAC (river of Peru)
APOPHYSIS APURIMAC (department of Peru)
APOPLEXY APYREXIA
APOROSE ‛AQĪBA BEN JOSEPH
APOSIOPESIS AQUAE
APOSTASY AQUAE CUTILIAE
APOSTIL AQUAMARINE
APOSTLE AQUARELLE
APOSTLE SPOONS AQUARII
APOSTOLICAL CONSTITUTIONS AQUARIUM
APOSTOLIC CANONS AQUARIUS
APOSTOLIC FATHERS AQUATINT
APOSTOLICI AQUAVIVA, CLAUDIO
APOSTOLIC MAJESTY AQUEDUCT
APOSTOLIUS, MICHAEL AQUILA
APOSTROPHE AQUILA, CASPAR
APOTACTITES AQUILA, SERAFINO DELL’
APOTHECARY AQUILA (city of Italy)
APOTHEOSIS AQUILA (constellation)
APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS AQUILA ROMANUS
APPANAGE AQUILEIA
APPAREL AQUILLIUS, MANIUS
APPARITIONS AQUINAS, THOMAS
APPARITOR AQUINO
APPEAL AQUITAINE
APPEARANCE ARABESQUE
APPENDICITIS ARABGIR
APPENDICULATA ARABIA
APPENDINI, FRANCESCO MARIA ARABIAN PHILOSOPHY
APPENZELL (canton of Switzerland) ARABIAN SEA
APPENZELL (city of Switzerland) ARABICI
APPERCEPTION ARABI PASHA
APPERLEY, CHARLES JAMES ARABISTAN
APPERT, BENJAMIN NICOLAS MARIE ARABS
APPIAN ARACAJÚ
APPIANI, ANDREA ARACATY
APPIA, VIA ARACHNE
APPIN ARACHNIDA
APPLAUSE ARAD
APPLE ARAEOSTYLE
APPLEBY ARAEOSYSTYLE
APPLETON, NATHAN ARAGO, DOMINIQUE FRANÇOIS JEAN
APPLETON (city of U.S.A.) ARAGON
APPOGGIATURA ARAGONITE
APPOINTMENT, POWER OF ARAGUA
APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE ARAGUAYA
APPONYI, ALBERT ARAKAN
APPORTIONMENT ARAKCHEEV, ALEKSYEI ANDREEVICH
APPORTIONMENT BILL ARAL
APPRAISER  

186

186

APOLLODORUS, an Athenian painter, who flourished at the end of the 5th century B.C. He is said to have introduced great improvements in perspective and chiaroscuro. What these were it is impossible to say: perspective cannot have been in his day at an advanced stage. Among his works were an Odysseus, a priest in prayer, and an Ajax struck by lightning.

APOLLODORUS, was an Athenian painter who was active at the end of the 5th century BCE He is credited with introducing significant improvements in perspective and shading techniques. It's hard to specify what these improvements were, as perspective wasn’t very advanced in his time. Some of his notable works included depictions of Odysseus, a priest in prayer, and Ajax being struck by lightning.


APOLLODORUS, an Athenian grammarian, pupil of Aristarchus and Panaetius the Stoic, who lived about 140 B.C. He was a prolific and versatile writer. There is extant under his name a treatise on the gods and the heroic age, entitled Βιβλιοθἠκη, a valuable authority on ancient mythology. Modern critics are of opinion that, if genuine, it is an abridgment of a larger work by him (Περὶ θεῶν).

APOLLODORUS, was an Athenian grammarian, a student of Aristarchus and Panaetius the Stoic, who lived around 140 B.C. He was a prolific and adaptable writer. There is a treatise under his name about the gods and the heroic age, titled Library, which is a valuable source on ancient mythology. Modern critics believe that, if authentic, it is a summary of a larger work by him (About the gods).

Edition, with commentary, by Heyne (1803); text by Wagner (1894) (Mythographi Graeci, vol. i. Teubner series). Amongst other works by him of which only fragments remain, collected in Müller, Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, may be mentioned: Χρονικά, a universal history from the fall of Troy to 144 B.C.; Περιήγησις, a gazetteer written in iambics; Περὶ Νεῶν, a work on the Homeric catalogue of ships; and a work on etymology (Έτυμολογίαι).

Edition, with commentary, by Heyne (1803); text by Wagner (1894) (Mythographi Graeci, vol. i. Teubner series). Among other works by him, of which only fragments remain, collected in Müller, Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, we can mention: Chronicles, a universal history from the fall of Troy to 144 BCE; Explore, a gazetteer written in iambics; About Ships, a work on the Homeric catalogue of ships; and a work on etymology (Ετυμολογίες).


APOLLODORUS, of Carystus in Euboea, one of the most important writers of the New Attic comedy, who flourished at Athens between 300 and 260 B.C. He is to be distinguished from an older Apollodorus of Gela (342-290), also a writer of comedy, a contemporary of Menander. He wrote 47 comedies and obtained the prize five times. Terence borrowed his Hecyra and Phormio from the Έκυρά and Έπιδικαζόμενος of Apollodorus.

APOLLODORUS, of Carystus in Euboea was one of the most significant writers of New Attic comedy, active in Athens between 300 and 260 BCE He should be distinguished from an earlier Apollodorus of Gela (342-290), who also wrote comedy and was a contemporary of Menander. He wrote 47 comedies and won the prize five times. Terence adapted his Hecyra and Phormio from the Έκυρά and Claiming of Apollodorus.

Fragments in Koch, Comicorum Atticorum Fragmenta, ii. (1884); see also Meineke, Historia Critica Comicorum Graecorum (1839).

Fragments in Koch, Comicorum Atticorum Fragmenta, ii. (1884); see also Meineke, Historia Critica Comicorum Graecorum (1839).


APOLLODORUS, of Damascus, a famous Greek architect, who flourished during the 2nd century A.D. He was a favourite of Trajan, for whom he constructed the stone bridge over the Danube (A.D. 104-105). He also planned a gymnasium, a college, public baths, the Odeum and the Forum Trajanum, within the city of Rome; and the triumphal arches at Beneventum and Ancona. The Trajan column in the centre of the Forum is celebrated as being the first triumphal monument of the kind. On the accession of Hadrian, whom he had offended by ridiculing his performances as architect and artist, Apollodorus was banished, and, shortly afterwards, being charged with imaginary crimes, put to death (Dio Cassius lxix. 4). He also wrote a treatise on Siege Engines (Πολιορκητικά), which was dedicated to Hadrian.

APOLLODORUS, of Damascus, a renowned Greek architect, who thrived in the 2nd century CE He was a favorite of Trajan, for whom he built the stone bridge over the Danube (A.D. 104-105). He also designed a gymnasium, a college, public baths, the Odeum, and the Forum Trajanum in the city of Rome, as well as the triumphant arches at Beneventum and Ancona. The Trajan column in the center of the Forum is famous for being the first triumphal monument of its kind. When Hadrian took power, Apollodorus was banished because he mocked Hadrian's skills as an architect and artist, and shortly after, he was executed on charges of fictitious crimes (Dio Cassius lxix. 4). He also wrote a treatise on Siege Engines (Siege weapons), which was dedicated to Hadrian.


APOLLONIA, the name of more than thirty cities of antiquity. The most important are the following: (1) An Illyrian city (known as Apollonia κατ᾽ Έπίδαμνον or πρὸς Έπιδάμνῳ) on the right bank of the Aous, founded by the Corinthians and Corcyraeans. It soon became a place of increasing commercial prosperity, as the most convenient link between Brundusium and northern Greece, and as one of the starting-points of the Via Egnatia. It was an important military post in the wars against Philip and during the civil wars of Pompey and Caesar, and towards the close of the Roman republic acquired fame as a seat of literature and philosophy. Here Augustus was being educated when the death of Caesar called him to Rome. It seems to have sunk with the rise of Aulon, and few remains of its ruins are to be found. The monastery of Pollina stands on a hill which probably is part of the site of the old city. (2) A Thracian city on the Black Sea (afterwards Sozopolis, and now Sizeboli), colonized by the Milesians, and famous for its colossal statue of Apollo by Calamis, which Lucullus removed to Rome.

APOLLONIA, was the name of over thirty ancient cities. The most significant ones include: (1) An Illyrian city (known as Apollonia at Epidaurus or To Epidamnos) located on the right bank of the Aous, founded by the Corinthians and Corcyraeans. It quickly became a hub of commercial success, serving as the most convenient link between Brundusium and northern Greece and one of the starting points of the Via Egnatia. It was a vital military post during the wars against Philip and during Pompey and Caesar's civil wars, and towards the end of the Roman Republic, it gained a reputation as a center of literature and philosophy. Augustus was educated here when Caesar's death called him to Rome. The city seems to have declined with the rise of Aulon, and there are only a few remnants of its ruins left. The monastery of Pollina is located on a hill that likely forms part of the old city's site. (2) A Thracian city on the Black Sea (later known as Sozopolis, now Sizeboli), colonized by the Milesians and famous for its gigantic statue of Apollo by Calamis, which Lucullus transported to Rome.


APOLLONIUS, surnamed ὁ δύσκολος (“the Surly or Crabbed”), a celebrated grammarian of Alexandria, who lived in the reigns of Hadrian and Antoninus Pius. He spent the greater part of his life in his native city, where he died; he is also said to have visited Rome and attracted the attention of Antoninus. He was the founder of scientific grammar and is styled by Priscian grammaticorum princeps. Four of his works are extant: On Syntax, ed. Bekker, 1817; and three smaller treatises, on Pronouns, Conjunctions and Adverbs, ed. Schneider, 1878.

APOLLONIUS, nicknamed the difficult (“the Surly or Crabbed”), was a famous grammarian from Alexandria, living during the reigns of Hadrian and Antoninus Pius. He spent most of his life in his hometown, where he passed away; he is also said to have traveled to Rome and caught the attention of Antoninus. He was the pioneer of scientific grammar and is referred to by Priscian grammaticorum princeps. Four of his works survive: On Syntax, ed. Bekker, 1817; and three shorter treatises on Pronouns, Conjunctions, and Adverbs, ed. Schneider, 1878.

Grammatici Graeci, i. in Teubner series; Egger, Apollonius Dyscole (1854).

Grammatici Graeci, vol. 1 in the Teubner series; Egger, Apollonius Dyscole (1854).


APOLLONIUS, surnamed ὁ μαλακός (“the Effeminate”), a Greek rhetorician of Alabanda in Caria, who flourished about 120 B.C. After studying under Menecles, chief of the Asiatic school of oratory, he settled in Rhodes, where he taught rhetoric, among his pupils being Mark Antony.

APOLLONIUS,, nicknamed the soft one (“the Effeminate”), was a Greek rhetorician from Alabanda in Caria who was active around 120 BCE After studying with Menecles, the leader of the Asiatic school of oratory, he moved to Rhodes, where he taught rhetoric, and one of his students was Mark Antony.


APOLLONIUS, surnamed “the Sophist,” of Alexandria, a famous grammarian, who probably lived towards the end of the 1st century A.D. He was the author of a Homeric lexicon (Λέξεις Όμηρικαί), the only work of the kind we possess. His chief authorities were Aristarchus and Apion’s Homeric glossary.

APOLLONIUS,, known as “the Sophist,” from Alexandria, was a well-known grammarian, likely living towards the end of the 1st century A.D. He wrote a Homeric lexicon (Ομηρικές λέξεις), which is the only work of its kind that we have. His main sources were Aristarchus and Apion’s Homeric glossary.

Edition by Villoison (1773), I. Bekker (1833); Leyde, De Apollonii Sophistae Lexico Homerico (1885); E.W.B. Nicholson on a newly discovered fragment in Classical Review (Nov. 1897).

Edition by Villoison (1773), I. Bekker (1833); Leiden, De Apollonii Sophistae Lexico Homerico (1885); E.W.B. Nicholson on a newly discovered fragment in Classical Review (Nov. 1897).


APOLLONIUS MOLON (sometimes called simply Molon), a Greek rhetorician, who flourished about 70 B.C. He was a native of Alabanda, a pupil of Menecles, and settled at Rhodes. He twice visited Rome as an ambassador from Rhodes, and Cicero and Caesar took lessons from him. He endeavoured to moderate the florid Asiatic style and cultivated an “Atticizing” tendency. He wrote on Homer, and, according to Josephus, violently attacked the Jews.

APOLLONIUS MOLON (sometimes just called Molon), a Greek rhetorician who thrived around 70 B.C.. He was from Alabanda, was a student of Menecles, and settled in Rhodes. He visited Rome twice as an ambassador from Rhodes, and both Cicero and Caesar took lessons from him. He worked to tone down the ornate Asiatic style and promoted an “Atticizing” approach. He wrote about Homer and, according to Josephus, fiercely criticized the Jews.

See C. Müller, Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, iii.; E. Schürer, History of the Jewish People, iii. (Eng. tr. 1886).

See C. Müller, Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, iii.; E. Schürer, History of the Jewish People, iii. (Eng. tr. 1886).


APOLLONIUS OF PERGA [Pergaeus], Greek geometer of the Alexandrian school, was probably born some twenty-five years later than Archimedes, i.e. about 262 B.C. He flourished in the reigns of Ptolemy Euergetes and Ptolemy Philopator (247-205 B.C.). His treatise on Conics gained him the title of The Great Geometer, and is that by which his fame has been transmitted to modern times. All his numerous other treatises have perished, save one, and we have only their titles handed down, with general indications of their contents, by later writers, especially Pappus. After the Conics in eight Books had been written in a first edition, Apollonius brought out a second edition, considerably revised as regards Books i.-ii., at the instance of one Eudemus of Pergamum; 187 the first three books were sent to Eudemus at intervals, as revised, and the later books were dedicated (after Eudemus’ death) to King Attalus I. (241-197 B.C.). Only four Books have survived in Greek; three more are extant in Arabic; the eighth has never been found. Although a fragment has been found of a Latin translation from the Arabic made in the 13th century, it was not until 1661 that a Latin translation of Books v.-vii. was available. This was made by Giovanni Alfonso Borelli and Abraham Ecchellensis from the free version in Arabic made in 983 by Abu ’l-Fath of Ispahan and preserved in a Florence MS. But the best Arabic translation is that made as regards Books i.-iv. by Hilal ibn Abi Hilal (d. about 883), and as regards Books v.-vii. by Tobit ben Korra (836-901). Halley used for his translation an Oxford MS. of this translation of Books v.-vii., but the best MS. (Bodl. 943) he only referred to in order to correct his translation, and it is still unpublished except for a fragment of Book v. published by L. Nix with German translation (Drugulin, Leipzig, 1889). Halley added in his edition (1710) a restoration of Book viii., in which he was guided by the fact that Pappus gives lemmas “to the seventh and eighth books” under that one heading, as well as by the statement of Apollonius himself that the use of the seventh book was illustrated by the problems solved in the eighth.

APOLLONIUS OF PERGA [Perge], a Greek geometer from the Alexandrian school, was likely born about twenty-five years after Archimedes, around 262 BCE. He was prominent during the reigns of Ptolemy Euergetes and Ptolemy Philopator (247-205 BCE). His work on Conics earned him the title of The Great Geometer, which is how his reputation has reached modern times. Most of his other writings have been lost, except for one, and we only know their titles and some details about their content from later authors, particularly Pappus. After completing the first edition of the Conics in eight books, Apollonius published a second edition that was significantly revised in Books i.-ii., at the request of Eudemus of Pergamum; 187 the first three books were sent to Eudemus gradually as they were revised, while the later books were dedicated (after Eudemus’ death) to King Attalus I. (241-197 BCE). Only four books have survived in Greek; three more exist in Arabic, and the eighth has never been found. Though a fragment of a Latin translation from the Arabic, made in the 13th century, has been discovered, it wasn't until 1661 that a Latin translation of Books v.-vii. became available. This translation was done by Giovanni Alfonso Borelli and Abraham Ecchellensis from a free Arabic version created in 983 by Abu ’l-Fath of Ispahan, which is preserved in a manuscript in Florence. However, the best Arabic translation of Books i.-iv. was done by Hilal ibn Abi Hilal (d. about 883), and Books v.-vii. were translated by Tobit ben Korra (836-901). Halley used an Oxford manuscript of the translation of Books v.-vii. for his edition, but he only referred to the best manuscript (Bodl. 943) to correct his translation, and it remains unpublished except for a fragment of Book v. published by L. Nix with a German translation (Drugulin, Leipzig, 1889). In his edition from 1710, Halley included a reconstruction of Book viii., guided by the fact that Pappus presents lemmas “to the seventh and eighth books” under one heading, and by Apollonius’ statement that the use of the seventh book was exemplified by the problems addressed in the eighth.

The degree of originality of the Conics can best be judged from Apollonius’ own prefaces. Books i.-iv. form an “elementary introduction,” i.e. contain the essential principles; the rest are specialized investigations in particular directions. For Books i.-iv. he claims only that the generation of the curves and their fundamental properties in Book i. are worked out more fully and generally than they were in earlier treatises, and that a number of theorems in Book iii. and the greater part of Book iv. are new. That he made the fullest use of his predecessors’ works, such as Euclid’s four Books on Conics, is clear from his allusions to Euclid, Conon and Nicoteles. The generality of treatment is indeed remarkable; he gives as the fundamental property of all the conics the equivalent of the Cartesian equation referred to oblique axes (consisting of a diameter and the tangent at its extremity) obtained by cutting an oblique circular cone in any manner, and the axes appear only as a particular case after he has shown that the property of the conic can be expressed in the same form with reference to any new diameter and the tangent at its extremity. It is clearly the form of the fundamental property (expressed in the terminology of the “application of areas”) which led him to call the curves for the first time by the names parabola, ellipse, hyperbola. Books v.-vii. are clearly original. Apollonius’ genius takes its highest flight in Book v., where he treats of normals as minimum and maximum straight lines drawn from given points to the curve (independently of tangent properties), discusses how many normals can be drawn from particular points, finds their feet by construction, and gives propositions determining the centre of curvature at any point and leading at once to the Cartesian equation of the evolute of any conic.

The originality of the Conics is best evaluated through Apollonius’ own introductions. Books i.-iv. serve as an “elementary introduction,” meaning they cover the essential principles, while the remaining books focus on specialized studies in specific areas. For Books i.-iv., he only asserts that the generation of the curves and their key properties in Book i. are explained more thoroughly and generally than in previous works, and that several theorems in Book iii. along with most of Book iv. are new. It's evident from his references to Euclid, Conon, and Nicoteles that he thoroughly utilized the works of his predecessors, including Euclid’s four Books on Conics. The generality of his approach is truly impressive; he identifies the fundamental property of all conics as the equivalent of the Cartesian equation related to oblique axes (comprising a diameter and the tangent at its end) derived from cutting an oblique circular cone in any way, showing that the axes are just a specific case after demonstrating that the conic's property can be articulated using any new diameter and the tangent at its end. The way he describes the fundamental property (using "application of areas" terminology) clearly inspired him to name the curves for the first time as parabola, ellipse, and hyperbola. Books v.-vii. are evidently original. Apollonius’ brilliance shines brightest in Book v., where he discusses normals as minimum and maximum straight lines drawn from specified points to the curve (without relying on tangent properties), evaluates how many normals can be drawn from specific points, finds their feet through construction, and presents propositions that define the center of curvature at any point, which directly leads to the Cartesian equation of the evolute of any conic.

The other treatises of Apollonius mentioned by Pappus are—1st, Λόγου ἀποτομή, Cutting off a Ratio; 2nd, Χωρίου ἀποτομή, Cutting of an Area; 3rd, Διωρισμένη τομή, Determinate Section; 4th, Έπαφαί, Tangencies; 5th, Νεύσεις, Inclinations; 6th, Τόποι ἐπίπεδοι, Plane Loci. Each of these was divided into two books, and, with the Data, the Porisms and Surface-Loci of Euclid and the Conics of Apollonius were, according to Pappus, included in the body of the ancient analysis.

The other works of Apollonius mentioned by Pappus are—1st, Cutting off speech, Cutting off a Ratio; 2nd, Village cut-off, Cutting of an Area; 3rd, Διορισμένη τομή, Determinate Section; 4th, Έπαφαί, Tangencies; 5th, Nerves, Inclinations; 6th, Flat places, Plane Loci. Each of these was divided into two books, and, along with the Data, the Porisms and Surface-Loci of Euclid and the Conics of Apollonius were, according to Pappus, included in the body of the ancient analysis.

1st. De Rationis Sectione had for its subject the resolution of the following problem: Given two straight lines and a point in each, to draw through a third given point a straight line cutting the two fixed lines, so that the parts intercepted between the given points in them and the points of intersection with this third line may have a given ratio.

1st. De Rationis Sectione focused on solving this problem: Given two straight lines with a designated point on each, how can we draw a straight line through a third designated point that intersects the two fixed lines in such a way that the segments between the given points and the intersection points on this third line have a specified ratio?

2nd. De Spatii Sectione discussed the similar problem which requires the rectangle contained by the two intercepts to be equal to a given rectangle.

2nd. De Spatii Sectione addressed the same issue that needs the rectangle formed by the two intercepts to be equal to a specified rectangle.

An Arabic version of the first was found towards the end of the 17th century in the Bodleian library by Dr Edward Bernard, who began a translation of it; Halley finished it and published it along with a restoration of the second treatise in 1706.

An Arabic version of the first was discovered near the end of the 17th century in the Bodleian library by Dr. Edward Bernard, who started translating it; Halley completed the translation and published it along with a restoration of the second treatise in 1706.

3rd. De Sectione Determinata resolved the problem: Given two, three or four points on a straight line, to find another point on it such that its distances from the given points satisfy the condition that the square on one or the rectangle contained by two has to the square on the remaining one or the rectangle contained by the remaining two, or to the rectangle contained by the remaining one and another given straight line, a given ratio. Several restorations of the solution have been attempted, one by W. Snellius (Leiden, 1698), another by Alex. Anderson of Aberdeen, in the supplement to his Apollonius Redivivus (Paris, 1612), but by far the best is by Robert Simson, Opera quaedam reliqua (Glasgow, 1776).

3rd. De Sectione Determinata solved the problem: Given two, three, or four points on a straight line, find another point on it such that its distances from the given points meet the condition that the square of one or the rectangle formed by two has to the square of the remaining one or the rectangle formed by the remaining two, or to the rectangle formed by the remaining one and another given straight line, a specific ratio. Several restorations of the solution have been attempted, one by W. Snellius (Leiden, 1698), another by Alex. Anderson of Aberdeen, in the supplement to his Apollonius Redivivus (Paris, 1612), but the best is by Robert Simson, Opera quaedam reliqua (Glasgow, 1776).

4th. De Tactionibus embraced the following general problem: Given three things (points, straight lines or circles) in position, to describe a circle passing through the given points, and touching the given straight lines or circles. The most difficult case, and the most interesting from its historical associations, is when the three given things are circles. This problem, which is sometimes known as the Apollonian Problem, was proposed by Vieta in the 16th century to Adrianus Romanus, who gave a solution by means of a hyperbola. Vieta thereupon proposed a simpler construction, and restored the whole treatise of Apollonius in a small work, which he entitled Apollonius Gallus (Paris, 1600). A very full and interesting historical account of the problem is given in the preface to a small work of J.W. Camerer, entitled Apollonii Pergaei quae supersunt, ac maxime Lemmata Pappi in hos Libras, cum Observationibus, &c. (Gothae, 1795, 8vo).

4th. De Tactionibus addressed the following general issue: Given three objects (points, straight lines, or circles) in a specific arrangement, to draw a circle that passes through the given points and touches the given straight lines or circles. The most challenging case, and the most intriguing due to its historical significance, is when the three given objects are circles. This problem, often referred to as the Apollonian Problem, was proposed by Vieta in the 16th century to Adrianus Romanus, who solved it using a hyperbola. Vieta then suggested a simpler method and revived the entire work of Apollonius in a short piece, which he called Apollonius Gallus (Paris, 1600). A comprehensive and fascinating historical overview of the problem is provided in the preface to a small work by J.W. Camerer, titled Apollonii Pergaei quae supersunt, ac maxime Lemmata Pappi in hos Libras, cum Observationibus, &c. (Gothae, 1795, 8vo).

5th. De Inclinationibus had for its object to insert a straight line of a given length, tending towards a given point, between two given (straight or circular) lines. Restorations have been given by Marino Ghetaldi, by Hugo d’Omerique (Geometrical Analysis, Cadiz, 1698), and (the best) by Samuel Horsley (1770).

5th. De Inclinationibus aimed to place a straight line of a specified length, directed towards a particular point, between two given lines (either straight or circular). Restorations have been provided by Marino Ghetaldi, by Hugo d’Omerique (Geometrical Analysis, Cadiz, 1698), and the most notable by Samuel Horsley (1770).

6th. De Locis Planis is a collection of propositions relating to loci which are either straight lines or circles. Pappus gives somewhat full particulars of the propositions, and restorations were attempted by P. Fermat (Oeuvres, i., 1891, pp. 3-51), F. Schooten (Leiden, 1656) and, most successfully of all, by R. Simson (Glasgow, 1749).

6th. De Locis Planis is a collection of statements about points that are either straight lines or circles. Pappus provides fairly detailed information about these statements, and attempts to restore them were made by P. Fermat (Oeuvres, i., 1891, pp. 3-51), F. Schooten (Leiden, 1656), and most successfully by R. Simson (Glasgow, 1749).

Other works of Apollonius are referred to by ancient writers, viz. (1) Περὶ τοῦ πυρίου, On the Burning-Glass, where the focal properties of the parabola probably found a place; (2) Περὶ τοῦ κοχλίου, On the Cylindrical Helix (mentioned by Proclus); (3) a comparison of the dodecahedron and the icosahedron inscribed in the same sphere; (4) Ή καθόλου πραγματεία, perhaps a work on the general principles of mathematics in which were included Apollonius’ criticisms and suggestions for the improvement of Euclid’s Elements; (5) Ώκυτόκιον (quick bringing-to-birth), in which, according to Eutocius, he showed how to find closer limits for the value of π than the 317 and 31071 of Archimedes; (6) an arithmetical work (as to which see Pappus) on a system of expressing large numbers in language closer to that of common life than that of Archimedes’ Sand-reckoner, and showing how to multiply such large numbers; (7) a great extension of the theory of irrationals expounded in Euclid, Book x., from binomial to multinomial and from ordered to unordered irrationals (see extracts from Pappus’ comm. on Eucl. x., preserved in Arabic and published by Woepcke, 1856). Lastly, in astronomy he is credited by Ptolemy with an explanation of the motion of the planets by a system of epicycles; he also made researches in the lunar theory, for which he is said to have been called Epsilon (ε).

Other works of Apollonius are mentioned by ancient writers, specifically: (1) About the fire, On the Burning-Glass, where the properties of the parabola were probably discussed; (2) About the cochlea, On the Cylindrical Helix (mentioned by Proclus); (3) a comparison of the dodecahedron and the icosahedron inscribed in the same sphere; (4) Or no treatise at all, possibly a work on general mathematical principles that included Apollonius’ critiques and suggestions to improve Euclid’s Elements; (5) Ώκυτόκιον (quick bringing-to-birth), in which, according to Eutocius, he demonstrated how to find more accurate limits for the value of π than 317 and 31071 given by Archimedes; (6) a mathematical work (see Pappus) on a system for expressing large numbers in language that is more accessible than Archimedes’ Sand-reckoner, and showing how to multiply these large numbers; (7) an extensive exploration of the theory of irrationals described in Euclid, Book x., expanding from binomial to multinomial and from ordered to unordered irrationals (see excerpts from Pappus’ commentary on Eucl. x., preserved in Arabic and published by Woepcke, 1856). Lastly, in astronomy, Ptolemy credits him with explaining the motion of the planets through a system of epicycles; he also researched lunar theory, which earned him the nickname Epsilon (ε).

The best editions of the works of Apollonius are the following: (1) Apollonii Pergaei Conicorum libri quatuor, ex versione Frederici Commandini (Bononiae, 1566), fol.; (2) Apollonii Pergaei Conicorum libri octo, et Sereni Antissensis de Sectione Cylindri et Coni libri duo (Oxoniae, 1710), fol. (this is the monumental edition of Edmund Halley); (3) the edition of the first four books of the Conics given in 1675 by Barrow; (4) Apollonii Pergaei de Sectione, Rationis libri duo: Accedunt ejusdem de Sectione Spatii libri duo Restituti: Praemittitur, &c., Opera et Studio Edmundi Halley (Oxoniae, 1706), 4to; (5) a German translation of the Conics by H. Balsam (Berlin, 1861); (6) the definitive Greek text of Heiberg (Apollonii Pergaei quae Graece 188 exstant Opera, Leipzig, 1891-1893); (7) T.L. Heath, Apollonius, Treatise on Conic Sections (Cambridge, 1896); see also H.G. Zeuthen, Die Lehre van den Kegelschnitten im Altertum (Copenhagen, 1886 and 1902).

The best editions of Apollonius's works are the following: (1) Apollonii Pergaei Conicorum libri quatuor, ex versione Frederici Commandini (Bologna, 1566), fol.; (2) Apollonii Pergaei Conicorum libri octo, et Sereni Antissensis de Sectione Cylindri et Coni libri duo (Oxford, 1710), fol. (this is the major edition by Edmund Halley); (3) the edition of the first four books of the Conics published in 1675 by Barrow; (4) Apollonii Pergaei de Sectione, Rationis libri duo: Accedunt ejusdem de Sectione Spatii libri duo Restituti: Praemittitur, &c., Opera et Studio Edmundi Halley (Oxford, 1706), 4to; (5) a German translation of the Conics by H. Balsam (Berlin, 1861); (6) the definitive Greek text by Heiberg (Apollonii Pergaei quae Graece 188 exstant Opera, Leipzig, 1891-1893); (7) T.L. Heath, Apollonius, Treatise on Conic Sections (Cambridge, 1896); see also H.G. Zeuthen, Die Lehre van den Kegelschnitten im Altertum (Copenhagen, 1886 and 1902).

(T. L. H.)

APOLLONIUS OF RHODES (Rhodius), a Greek epic poet and grammarian, of Alexandria, who flourished under the Ptolemies Philopator and Epiphanes (222-181 B.C.). He was the pupil of Callimachus, with whom he subsequently quarrelled. In his youth he composed the work for which he is known—Argonautica, an epic in four books on the legend of the Argonauts. When he read it at Alexandria, it was rejected through the influence of Callimachus and his party. Disgusted with his failure, Apollonius withdrew to Rhodes, where he was very successful as a rhetorician, and a revised edition of his epic was well received. In recognition of his talents the Rhodians bestowed the freedom of their city upon him—the origin of his surname. Returning to Alexandria, he again recited his poem, this time with general applause. In 196, Ptolemy Epiphanes appointed him librarian of the Museum, which office he probably held until his death. As to the Argonautica, Longinus’ (De Sublim. p. 54, 19) and Quintilian’s (Instit, x. 1, 54) verdict of mediocrity seems hardly deserved; although it lacks the naturalness of Homer, it possesses a certain simplicity and contains some beautiful passages. There is a valuable collection of scholia. The work, highly esteemed by the Romans, was imitated by Virgil (Aeneid, iv.), Varro Atacinus, and Valerius Flaccus. Marianus (about A.D. 500) paraphrased it in iambic trimeters. Apollonius also wrote epigrams; grammatical and critical works; and Κτίσεις (the foundations of cities).

APOLLONIUS OF RHODES (Rhodius), a Greek epic poet and grammarian from Alexandria, lived during the reigns of the Ptolemies Philopator and Epiphanes (222-181 BCE). He was a student of Callimachus, though they later had a falling out. In his early years, he wrote the work for which he is best known—Argonautica, an epic in four books about the legend of the Argonauts. When he presented it in Alexandria, it was rejected due to the influence of Callimachus and his supporters. Frustrated by his failure, Apollonius moved to Rhodes, where he became quite successful as a rhetorician, and a revised version of his epic was well received. In appreciation of his skills, the people of Rhodes granted him citizenship, which led to his surname. When he returned to Alexandria, he read his poem again, and this time it was met with widespread applause. In 196, Ptolemy Epiphanes appointed him as the librarian of the Museum, a position he likely held until his death. Regarding the Argonautica, Longinus' (De Sublim. p. 54, 19) and Quintilian’s (Instit, x. 1, 54) assessments of it being mediocre seem somewhat unfair; while it may not have the fluidity of Homer, it has a certain simplicity and includes some beautiful passages. There is a valuable collection of scholia. The work was highly regarded by the Romans and inspired Virgil (Aeneid, iv.), Varro Atacinus, and Valerius Flaccus. Marianus (around CE 500) created a paraphrase of it in iambic trimeters. Apollonius also wrote epigrams, grammatical and critical works, and Buildings (the foundations of cities).

Editio Princeps (Florence, 1496); Merkel-Keil (with scholia, 1854); Seaton (1900). English translations: Verse, by Greene (1780); Fawkes (1780); Preston (1811); Way (1901); Prose by Coleridge (1889); see also Couat, La Poésie alexandrine; Susemihl, Geschichte der griech. Lit. in der alexandnnischen Zeit.

Editio Princeps (Florence, 1496); Merkel-Keil (with notes, 1854); Seaton (1900). English translations: Verse by Greene (1780); Fawkes (1780); Preston (1811); Way (1901); Prose by Coleridge (1889); see also Couat, La Poésie alexandrine; Susemihl, Geschichte der griech. Lit. in der alexandnnischen Zeit.


APOLLONIUS OF TRALLES (in Caria), a Greek sculptor, who flourished in the 2nd century B.C. With his brother Tauriscus, he executed the marble group known as the Farnese Bull, representing Zethus and Amphion tying the revengeful Dirce to the tail of a wild bull.

APOLLONIUS OF TRALLES (in Caria), a Greek sculptor who was active in the 2nd century BCE, worked with his brother Tauriscus to create the marble sculpture known as the Farnese Bull. This piece depicts Zethus and Amphion binding the vengeful Dirce to the tail of a wild bull.

See Greek Art, pl. i. fig. 51.

See Greek Art, pl. i. fig. 51.


APOLLONIUS OF TYANA, a Greek philosopher of the Neo-Pythagorean school, born a few years before the Christian era. He studied at Tarsus and in the temple of Asclepius at Aegae, where he devoted himself to the doctrines of Pythagoras and adopted the ascetic habit of life in its fullest sense. He travelled through Asia and visited Nineveh, Babylon and India, imbibing the oriental mysticism of magi, Brahmans and gymnosophists. The narrative of his travels given by his disciple Damis and reproduced by Philostratus is so full of the miraculous that many have regarded him as an imaginary character. On his return to Europe he was saluted as a magician, and received the greatest reverence from priests and people generally. He himself claimed only the power of foreseeing the future; yet in Rome it was said that he raised from death the body of a noble lady. In the halo of his mysterious power he passed through Greece, Italy and Spain. It was said that he was accused of treason both by Nero and by Domitian, but escaped by miraculous means. Finally he set up a school at Ephesus, where he died, apparently at the age of a hundred years. Philostratus keeps up the mystery of his hero’s life by saying, “Concerning the manner of his death, if he did die, the accounts are various.” The work of Philostratus composed at the instance of Julia, wife of Severus, is generally regarded as a religious work of fiction. It contains a number of obviously fictitious stories, through which, however, it is not impossible to discern the general character of the man. In the 3rd century, Hierocles (q.v.) endeavoured to prove that the doctrines and the life of Apollonius were more valuable than those of Christ, and, in modern times, Voltaire and Charles Blount (1654-1693), the English freethinker, have adopted a similar standpoint. Apart from this extravagant eulogy, it is absurd to regard Apollonius merely as a vulgar charlatan and miracle-monger. If we cut away the mass of mere fiction which Philostratus accumulated, we have left a highly imaginative, earnest reformer who laboured to infuse into the flaccid dialectic of paganism a saner spirit of practical morality.

APOLLONIUS OF TYANA, was a Greek philosopher from the Neo-Pythagorean school, born a few years before the start of the Christian era. He studied in Tarsus and at the temple of Asclepius in Aegae, where he fully committed to the teachings of Pythagoras and embraced a deeply ascetic lifestyle. He traveled across Asia, visiting places like Nineveh, Babylon, and India, soaking up the eastern mysticism of magi, Brahmans, and gymnosophists. His disciple Damis documented his journeys, which were retold by Philostratus, and the stories were so filled with miraculous events that many people have viewed him as a fictional figure. Upon returning to Europe, he was hailed as a magician and gained immense respect from both priests and the public. While he claimed he could only foresee the future, it was said in Rome that he brought a noblewoman back from the dead. He traveled through Greece, Italy, and Spain, wrapped in an aura of mysterious power. He faced accusations of treason from both Nero and Domitian but supposedly escaped through miraculous means. Eventually, he established a school in Ephesus, where he died, reportedly at the age of one hundred. Philostratus maintains the enigma surrounding his life by stating, “Concerning the manner of his death, if he did die, the accounts are various.” The work by Philostratus, written at the request of Julia, wife of Severus, is generally considered a fictional religious narrative. It includes several obviously made-up stories, yet it’s still possible to glean the man's general character. In the 3rd century, Hierocles (q.v.) tried to demonstrate that the beliefs and life of Apollonius were more valuable than those of Christ, and in modern times, Voltaire and English freethinker Charles Blount (1654-1693) have taken a similar view. Aside from this extreme praise, it’s ridiculous to see Apollonius merely as a common fraud and miracle-worker. If we remove the bulk of fiction that Philostratus added, we find a highly imaginative, earnest reformer who sought to inject a healthier sense of practical morality into the faded debates of paganism.

See L. Dyer, Studies of the Gods in Greece (New York, 1891); A. Chassang, Le Merveilleux dans l’antiquité (1882); D.M. Tredwell, Sketch of the Life of Apollonius of Tyana (New York, 1886); F.C. Baur, Apollonius von Tyana und Christus, ed. Ed. Zeller (Leipzig, 1876,—an attempt to show that Philostratus’s story is merely a pagan counterblast to the New Testament history); J. Jessen, Apollonius v. Tyana und sein Biograph Philostratos (Hamburg, 1885); J. Göttsching, Apollonius von Tyana (Berlin, 1889); J.A. Froude, Short Studies, vol. iv.; G.R.S. Mead, Apollonius of Tyana (London, 1901); B.L. Gildersleeve, Essays and Studies (New York, 1890); Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius (Eng. trans. New York, 1905); O. de B. Priaulx, The Indian Travels of Apollonius (1873); F.W.G. Campbell, Apoll. of Tyana (1908); see also Neo-Pythagoreanism.

See L. Dyer, Studies of the Gods in Greece (New York, 1891); A. Chassang, Le Merveilleux dans l’antiquité (1882); D.M. Tredwell, Sketch of the Life of Apollonius of Tyana (New York, 1886); F.C. Baur, Apollonius von Tyana und Christus, ed. Ed. Zeller (Leipzig, 1876,—an attempt to show that Philostratus’s story is merely a pagan counterblast to the New Testament history); J. Jessen, Apollonius v. Tyana und sein Biograph Philostratos (Hamburg, 1885); J. Göttsching, Apollonius von Tyana (Berlin, 1889); J.A. Froude, Short Studies, vol. iv.; G.R.S. Mead, Apollonius of Tyana (London, 1901); B.L. Gildersleeve, Essays and Studies (New York, 1890); Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius (Eng. trans. New York, 1905); O. de B. Priaulx, The Indian Travels of Apollonius (1873); F.W.G. Campbell, Apoll. of Tyana (1908); see also Neo-Pythagoreanism.


APOLLONIUS OF TYRE, a medieval tale supposed to be derived from a lost Greek original. The earliest mention of the story is in the Carmina (Bk. vi. 8, II. 5-6) of Venantius Fortunatus, in the second half of the 6th century, and the romance may well date from three centuries earlier. It bears a marked resemblance to the Antheia and Habrokomes of Xenophon of Ephesus. The story relates that King Antiochus, maintaining incestuous relations with his daughter, kept off her suitors by asking them a riddle, which they must solve on pain of losing their heads. Apollonius of Tyre solved the riddle, which had to do with Antiochus’s secret. He returned to Tyre, and, to escape the king’s vengeance, set sail in search of a place of refuge. In Cyrene he married the daughter of King Archistrates, and presently, on receiving news of the death of Antiochus, departed to take possession of the kingdom of Antioch, of which he was, for no clear reason, the heir. On the voyage his wife died, or rather seemed to die, in giving birth to a daughter, and the sailors demanded that she should be thrown overboard. Apollonius left his daughter, named Tarsia, at Tarsus in the care of guardians who proved false to their trust. Father, mother, and daughter were only reunited after fourteen years’ separation and many vicissitudes. The earliest Latin MS. of this tale, preserved at Florence, dates from the 9th or 10th century. The pagan features of the supposed original are by no means all destroyed. The ceremonies observed by Tarsia at her nurse’s grave, and the preparations for the burning of the body of Apollonius’s wife, are purely pagan. The riddles which Tarsia propounds to her father are obviously interpolated. They are taken from the Enigmata of Caelius Firmianus Symposius. The many inconsistencies of the story seem to be best explained by the supposition (E. Rohde, Der griechische Roman, 2nd ed., 1900, pp. 435 et seq.) that the Antiochus story was originally entirely separate from the story of Apollonius’s wanderings, and was clumsily tacked on by the Latin author. The romance kept its form through a vast number of medieval rearrangements, and there is little change in its outlines as set forth in the Shakespearian play of Pericles.

APOLLONIUS OF TYRE, is a medieval story believed to come from a lost Greek original. The earliest reference to this tale appears in the Carmina (Bk. vi. 8, II. 5-6) by Venantius Fortunatus, from the late 6th century, and the romance may have originated three centuries earlier. It closely resembles the Antheia and Habrokomes by Xenophon of Ephesus. The story tells of King Antiochus, who, maintaining an incestuous relationship with his daughter, deterred her suitors by challenging them to solve a riddle, with the threat of execution for failure. Apollonius of Tyre solved the riddle, which was related to Antiochus’s secret. He returned to Tyre and, to avoid the king’s wrath, set sail in search of refuge. In Cyrene, he married the daughter of King Archistrates and soon received news of Antiochus’s death, prompting him to claim the kingdom of Antioch, for unclear reasons, as its heir. During the journey, his wife appeared to die during childbirth, and the sailors insisted she be thrown overboard. Apollonius entrusted his daughter, named Tarsia, to guardians in Tarsus, who ultimately betrayed his trust. Father, mother, and daughter were reunited only after fourteen years of separation and numerous challenges. The earliest Latin manuscript of this tale, preserved in Florence, dates back to the 9th or 10th century. The pagan elements of the supposed original are not entirely erased. The rituals performed by Tarsia at her nurse’s grave and the arrangements for the cremation of Apollonius’s wife are distinctly pagan. The riddles Tarsia poses to her father are clearly later additions, taken from the Enigmata of Caelius Firmianus Symposius. The many inconsistencies in the story are best explained by the theory (E. Rohde, Der griechische Roman, 2nd ed., 1900, pp. 435 et seq.) that the story of Antiochus was originally independent of Apollonius’s adventures and was awkwardly added by the Latin author. The romance has maintained its structure through numerous medieval adaptations, with little change in its framework as seen in Shakespeare's play Pericles.

The Latin tale is preserved in about 100 MSS., and was printed by M. Velser (Augsburg, 1595), by J. Lapaume in Script. Erot. (Didot, Paris, 1856), and by A. Riese in the Bibl. Teubneriana (1871, new ed. 1893). The most widespread versions in the middle ages were those of Godfrey of Viterbo in his Pantheon (1185), where it is related as authentic history, and in the Gesta Romanorum (cap. 153), which formed the basis of the German folk-tale by H. Steinhöwel (Augsburg, 1471), the Dutch version (Delft, 1493), the French in Le Violier des histoires romaines (Paris, 1521), the English, by Laurence Twine (London, 1576, new ed. 1607), also of the Scandinavian, Czech, and Hungarian tales.

The Latin story is preserved in about 100 manuscripts and was printed by M. Velser (Augsburg, 1595), by J. Lapaume in Script. Erot. (Didot, Paris, 1856), and by A. Riese in the Bibl. Teubneriana (1871, new ed. 1893). The most common versions in the Middle Ages were those by Godfrey of Viterbo in his Pantheon (1185), where it is presented as authentic history, and in the Gesta Romanorum (cap. 153), which served as the basis for the German folk-tale by H. Steinhöwel (Augsburg, 1471), the Dutch version (Delft, 1493), the French in Le Violier des histoires romaines (Paris, 1521), and the English by Laurence Twine (London, 1576, new ed. 1607), as well as Scandinavian, Czech, and Hungarian tales.

In England a translation was made as early as the 11th century (ed. B. Thorpe, 1834, and J. Zupitza in Archiv für neuere Sprachen, 1896); there is a Middle English metrical version (J.O. Halliwell, A New Boke about Shakespeare, 1850), by a poet who says he was vicar of Wimborne; John Gower uses the tale as an example of the seventh deadly sin in the eighth book of his Confessio Amantis; Robert Copland translated a prose romance of Kynge Apollyne of Thyre (Wynkyn de Worde, 1510) from the French; Pericles was entered at Stationers’ Hall in 1607, and was followed in the next year by George Wilkins’s novel, The Painfull Adventures of Pericles, Prynce of Tyre (ed. Tycho Mommsen, Oldenburg, 1857), and George Lillo drew his play Marina (1738) from the piece associated with Shakespeare; Orendel, by a Middle High German minnesinger, contains some of the episodes of Apollonius; Heinrich von Neustadt wrote a poem of 20,000 lines on Apollonius von Tyrland (c. 1400); the story was well known in Spanish, Libre de Apolonio (verse, c. 1200), and in J. de Timoneda’s Patrañuelo (1576); in French much 189 of it was embodied in Jourdain de Blaives (13th cent.), and it also appears in Italian and medieval Greek. See A.H. Smyth, Shakespeare’s Pericles and Apollonius of Tyre (Philadelphia, 1898); Elimar Klebs, Die Erzahlung van A. aus Tyrus (Berlin, 1899); S. Singer, Apollonius van Tyrus (Halle, 1895).

In England, a translation was made as early as the 11th century (ed. B. Thorpe, 1834, and J. Zupitza in Archiv für neuere Sprachen, 1896); there is a Middle English metrical version (J.O. Halliwell, A New Boke about Shakespeare, 1850), by a poet who claims to have been the vicar of Wimborne; John Gower uses the tale as an example of the seventh deadly sin in the eighth book of his Confessio Amantis; Robert Copland translated a prose romance of Kynge Apollyne of Thyre (Wynkyn de Worde, 1510) from the French; Pericles was registered at Stationers’ Hall in 1607, and this was followed the next year by George Wilkins’s novel, The Painfull Adventures of Pericles, Prynce of Tyre (ed. Tycho Mommsen, Oldenburg, 1857), and George Lillo adapted his play Marina (1738) from the work associated with Shakespeare; Orendel, by a Middle High German minnesinger, includes some episodes from Apollonius; Heinrich von Neustadt wrote a 20,000-line poem on Apollonius von Tyrland (c. 1400); the story was well known in Spanish, Libre de Apolonio (verse, c. 1200), and in J. de Timoneda’s Patrañuelo (1576); in French, a lot of it was incorporated into Jourdain de Blaives (13th century), and it also appears in Italian and medieval Greek. See A.H. Smyth, Shakespeare’s Pericles and Apollonius of Tyre (Philadelphia, 1898); Elimar Klebs, Die Erzahlung van A. aus Tyrus (Berlin, 1899); S. Singer, Apollonius van Tyrus (Halle, 1895).


APOLLOS (Άπολλώς; contracted from Apollonius), an Alexandrine Jew who after Paul’s first visit to Corinth worked there in a similar way (1 Cor. iii. 6). He was with Paul at a later date in Ephesus (1 Cor. xvi. 12). In 1 Cor. i. 10-12 we read of four parties in the Corinthian church, of which two attached themselves to Paul and Apollos respectively, using their names, though the “division” can hardly have been due to conflicting doctrines. (See Paul.) From Acts xviii. 24-28 we learn that he spoke and taught with power and success. He may have captivated his hearers by teaching “wisdom,” as P.W. Schmiedel suggests, in the allegorical style of Philo, and he was evidently a man of unusual magnetic force. There seems to be some contradiction between Acts xviii. 25 a b and Acts xviii. 25 c, 26 b c; and it has been suggested that these latter passages are subsequent accretions. Since Apollos was a Christian and “taught exactly,” he could hardly have been acquainted only with John’s baptism or have required to be taught Christianity more thoroughly by Aquila and Priscilla. Martin Luther regarded Apollos as the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, and many scholars since have shared his view.

APOLLOS (Apollo; shortened from Apollonius), an Alexandrian Jew who, after Paul's first visit to Corinth, worked there similarly (1 Cor. iii. 6). He was with Paul later in Ephesus (1 Cor. xvi. 12). In 1 Cor. i. 10-12, we hear about four groups in the Corinthian church, with two aligning themselves to Paul and Apollos, respectively, using their names. However, the “division” likely wasn’t due to conflicting doctrines. (See Paul.) From Acts xviii. 24-28, we learn that he spoke and taught with power and success. He may have captivated his listeners by teaching “wisdom,” as P.W. Schmiedel suggests, in the allegorical style of Philo, and he clearly had a unique magnetic presence. There seems to be a contradiction between Acts xviii. 25 a b and Acts xviii. 25 c, 26 b c; it has been suggested that the latter passages were added later. Since Apollos was a Christian and “taught accurately,” it’s unlikely that he was only familiar with John’s baptism or needed Aquila and Priscilla to teach him about Christianity more thoroughly. Martin Luther believed Apollos wrote the Epistle to the Hebrews, and many scholars have agreed with him since then.

Jerome says that Apollos was so dissatisfied with the division at Corinth, that he retired into Crete with Zenas, a doctor of the law; and that the schism having been healed by Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, Apollos returned to the city, and became its bishop. Less probable traditions assign to him the bishopric of Duras, or of Iconium in Phrygia, or of Caesarea.

Jerome says that Apollos was so unhappy with the conflict in Corinth that he went away to Crete with Zenas, a lawyer; and after Paul’s letter to the Corinthians healed the division, Apollos returned to the city and became its bishop. Less likely traditions claim he was the bishop of Duras, Iconium in Phrygia, or Caesarea.

See the articles in the Encyclopaedia Biblica; Herzog-Hauck, Realencyklopadie; The Jewish Encyclopaedia; Hastings’ Dictionary of the Bible; and cf. Weizsäcker, Das apostolische Zeitalter; A.C. McGiffert, History of Christianity in the Apostolic Age.

See the articles in the Encyclopaedia Biblica; Herzog-Hauck, Realencyklopadie; The Jewish Encyclopaedia; Hastings’ Dictionary of the Bible; and also refer to Weizsäcker, Das apostolische Zeitalter; A.C. McGiffert, History of Christianity in the Apostolic Age.


APOLLYON, the “foul fiend” who assaulted Christian on his pilgrimage through the Valley of Humiliation in John Bunyan’s great allegory. The name (Gr. Άπολλύων), which means “destroyer” (ἀπολλύειν, to destroy), is taken from Rev. ix. 11, where it represents the Hebrew word Abaddon (lit. “place of destruction,” but here personified). The identification with the Asmodeus (q.v.) of Tobit iii. 8 is erroneous.

APOLLYON, the “foul fiend” who attacked Christian on his journey through the Valley of Humiliation in John Bunyan’s great allegory. The name (Gr. Apollo), which means “destroyer” (destroy, to destroy), is taken from Rev. ix. 11, where it represents the Hebrew word Abaddon (literally “place of destruction,” but here personified). The connection with the Asmodeus (q.v.) of Tobit iii. 8 is incorrect.


APOLOGETICS, in theology, the systematic statement of the grounds which Christians allege for belief in (at least) a supernatural revelation and a divine redemption (cf. e.g. Heb. i. 1-3). The majority of apologists in the past have further believed in an infallible Bible; but they admit this position can only be reached at a late stage in the argument. We should note, however, that even a liberal orthodoxy, while saying nothing about infallibility, is pledged to the essential authority of the Bible; it cannot e.g. simply ignore the Old Testament with F.E.D. Schleiermacher. Catholic apologetics must further give a central position to Church authority, which Roman Catholics explicitly define as infallible; but this position too is debated in a late section of their system. On the other hand, there may be a Christianity which seeks to extricate the “spiritual” from the “supernatural” (Arnold Toynbee, characterizing T.H. Green). It would only lead to confusion, however, if we called this method “apologetic.” Any single effort in apologetics may be termed “an apology.” More elaborate contrasts have been proposed between the two words, but are of little practical importance.

APOLOGETICS, in theology refers to the systematic presentation of the reasons Christians provide for believing in (at least) a supernatural revelation and a divine redemption (see e.g. Heb. i. 1-3). Most apologists in the past have also held that the Bible is infallible; however, they recognize that this position can only be established later in the discussion. It's important to note that even a more liberal view, while not claiming infallibility, still commits to the essential authority of the Bible; it cannot e.g. simply disregard the Old Testament as F.E.D. Schleiermacher does. Catholic apologetics must emphasize Church authority, which Roman Catholics expressly define as infallible; yet this view is also debated later in their framework. On the other hand, there may be a form of Christianity that aims to separate the “spiritual” from the “supernatural” (as Arnold Toynbee describes T.H. Green). However, labeling this approach as “apologetic” would likely create confusion. Any single attempt at apologetics can be called “an apology.” While more detailed distinctions have been suggested between the two terms, they hold little practical significance.

I. The Word itself.—In Greek, ἀπολογία is the defendant’s reply (personally, not through a lawyer) to the speech for the prosecution—κατηγορία. Sometimes defendants’ speeches passed into literature, e.g. Plato’s splendid version of the Apology of Socrates. Thus, in view of persecution or slander, the Christian church naturally produced literary “Apologies,” The word has never quite lost this connotation of standing on the defensive and rebutting criticism; e.g. Anselm’s Apologia contra insipientem Gaunilonem (c. 1100); or the Lutheran Apology for the Augsburg Confession (1531); or J.H. Newman’s Apologia pro vita sua (1864); or A.B. Bruce’s Apologetics; or Christianity Defensively Stated (1892). Of course, defence easily passes into counterattack, as when early apologists denounce Greek and Roman religion. Yet the purpose may be defence even then. And there is perhaps a reason of a deeper kind for holding Apologetics to the defensive. Christianity is a prophetic religion. Now a prophet does not argue; he declares what he feels to be God’s will. For himself, he rests, like the mystic, upon an immediate vision of truth; but he differs from most mystics in having a message for others; and—again unlike most mystics—he addresses the hearer’s conscience, which we might call (in one sense) the mystic element in every man—or better, perhaps, the prophetic. Can the positive grounds for a prophet’s message be analysed and stated in terms of argument? If so, apologetics is literally a science, and it is pedantry to claim the defensive and pretend to throw the onus probandi upon objectors. But, if not, then apologetics is a mere auxiliary, and is only “a science” in so far as it presents a conscious and systematic plea. Bruce’s title, and his programme of “succouring distressed faith,” imply the latter alternative; the moral appeal of Christianity, primary and essential; its confirmation by argument, secondary. The view has its difficulties; but it is hignly suggestive.

I. The Word itself.—In Greek, Apology is the defendant’s direct response (not through a lawyer) to the prosecution’s case—category. Occasionally, these responses became part of literature, like Plato’s remarkable rendition of the Apology of Socrates. Therefore, in response to persecution or slander, the Christian church naturally created literary “Apologies.” The term has never completely lost its meaning of defending against and rebutting criticism; for example, Anselm’s Apologia contra insipientem Gaunilonem (around 1100); the Lutheran Apology for the Augsburg Confession (1531); J.H. Newman’s Apologia pro vita sua (1864); or A.B. Bruce’s Apologetics; or Christianity Defensively Stated (1892). Of course, defense can easily shift into offense, like when early apologists criticized Greek and Roman religions. Yet, even then, the intent may still be defense. There may be a deeper reason for keeping Apologetics on the defensive. Christianity is a prophetic religion. A prophet doesn’t argue; he proclaims what he believes to be God’s will. He relies, like the mystic, on an immediate vision of truth, but he differs from most mystics in that he has a message for others; and—unlike many mystics—he appeals to the hearer’s conscience, which we might refer to (in one sense) as the mystic element in everyone—or better yet, the prophetic. Can the solid basis for a prophet’s message be analyzed and expressed through argument? If it can, then apologetics is literally a science, and it’s pretentious to claim the defensive position and place the onus probandi on the objectors. However, if it cannot, then apologetics is merely supportive and is only “a science” to the extent that it offers a conscious and systematic plea. Bruce’s title and his goal of “helping troubled faith” suggest the latter alternative; the moral appeal of Christianity is primary and essential; its support through argument is secondary. This perspective has its challenges, but it's quite thought-provoking.

The word ἀπολογία is used by Origen (Contra Cel. ii. 65, v. 19) of the general Christian defence. But the introduction of the adjective “apologetic” and of the substantive “apologetics” is recent. They are serviceable as bracketing together (1) Natural Theology or Theism, (2) Christian Evidences—chiefly “miracles” and “prophecy”; or, on a more modern view, chiefly the character and personality of Christ. The lower usage of Apology (as expression of regret for a fault) has tipped many a sarcasm besides George III.’s on the occasion of Bishop Watson’s book, “I did not know that the Bible needed an apology!”

The word apology is used by Origen (Contra Cel. ii. 65, v. 19) to refer to the general defense of Christianity. However, the terms "apologetic" and "apologetics" are fairly new. They help group together (1) Natural Theology or Theism, (2) Christian Evidences—mainly “miracles” and “prophecy”; or, from a more modern perspective, primarily the character and personality of Christ. The more common use of Apology (as a way to express regret for a mistake) has led to many sarcastic comments, including George III.’s remark about Bishop Watson’s book, “I didn’t know the Bible needed an apology!”

II. Apologetics in the Bible.—The Old Testament does not argue in support of its beliefs, unless when (chiefly in parts of the Wisdom literature) it seeks to rebut moral difficulties (cf. T.K. Cheyne, Job and Solomon; A.S. Peake, Problem of Suffering in the Old Testament, 1904). The New Testament reflects chiefly controversy with Jews. Great emphasis is laid upon alleged fulfilments—striking or fanciful, but very generally striking to that age—of Old Testament prophecy (Matt. especially; rather differently Ep. to Heb.). The miracles of Jesus are also canvassed. Jews do not deny their wonderful character, but attribute them to black art (Mark iii. 22 &c., &c.). On the other hand, Christians and Jews are pretty well agreed on natural theology; so the New Testament tends to take its theism for granted. However, Rom. i. 20 has had great influence on Christian theology (e.g. Thomas Aquinas) in leading it to base theism upon reason or argument. One apologetic contention, aimed at Gentile readers, is found among the motives of Acts. Christianity is not a lawless but an excellent law-abiding faith. So (it is alleged) rulers, both Jewish and Gentile, have often admitted (xviii. 14; xix. 37; xxiii. 9; xxvi. 32).

II. Apologetics in the Bible.—The Old Testament doesn’t defend its beliefs with arguments, except in some areas of the Wisdom literature where it aims to address moral questions (see T.K. Cheyne, Job and Solomon; A.S. Peake, Problem of Suffering in the Old Testament, 1904). The New Testament mainly reflects its debates with Jews. It puts a lot of focus on alleged fulfillments—sometimes striking or even fanciful, but generally impressive to that time—of Old Testament prophecies (especially Matthew; a bit differently in the Epistle to the Hebrews). The miracles of Jesus are also discussed. Jews don’t deny their remarkable nature but attribute them to sorcery (Mark 3:22, etc.). However, Christians and Jews mostly agree on natural theology; therefore, the New Testament tends to assume theism. Nevertheless, Romans 1:20 has significantly impacted Christian theology (e.g., Thomas Aquinas) by encouraging it to ground theism in reason or argument. One apologetic argument aimed at Gentile readers can be found among the motivations in Acts. Christianity is not a lawless faith but rather an excellent law-abiding one. It's claimed that both Jewish and Gentile rulers have often recognized this (Acts 18:14; 19:37; 23:9; 26:32).

III. Early Christian.—When we leave the New Testament, apologetics becomes conspicuous until the political triumph of Christianity, and even somewhat later. The atmosphere is no longer Jewish but fully Greek. True there are, as always, Jewish controversialists. Justin Martyr writes a Dialogue with Trypho; Origen deals with many anti-Christian arguments borrowed by Celsus from a certain nameless Jew. Yet Greece was the sovereign power in all the world of ancient culture. And so Christianity was necessarily Hellenized, necessarily philosophized. One result was to bring natural theology into the forefront. A pure morality, belief in one God, hopes extending beyond death—these appealed to the age; the Church taught them as philosophically true and divinely revealed. But, further still, philosophy offered a vehicle which could be applied to the contents of Christianity. The Platonic or eclectic theism, which adopted the conception of the Logos, made a place for Christ in terms of philosophy within the Godhead. (John i. 1 may or may not be affected by Philo; it is almost or quite solitary in the N.T.) Similarly, the immortality of the soul may be maintained on Platonic or quasi-Platonic lines, as by St Athanasius (Contra Gentes, § 33)—a writer who repeatedly quotes the Alexandrian Book of Wisdom, in which Platonism and the Old Testament had already joined partnership. This 190 phase of Platonism, however, was much more slowly adopted. The earlier apologists dispute the natural immortality of the soul; Athanasius himself, in De Incarnatione Dei, §§ 4, 5, tones down the teaching of Wisdom; and the somewhat eccentric writer Arnobius, a layman—from Justin Martyr downwards apologetics has always been largely in the hands of laymen—stands for what has recently been called “conditional immortality”—eternal life for the righteous, the children of God, alone.

III. Early Christian.—Once we move beyond the New Testament, apologetics becomes prominent until the political success of Christianity, and even a bit beyond that. The cultural context is no longer Jewish but entirely Greek. While there are still Jewish debaters, like Justin Martyr who writes a Dialogue with Trypho, and Origen who tackles various anti-Christian arguments cited by Celsus from an unnamed Jew, Greece was the dominant force in the entire realm of ancient culture. Therefore, Christianity had to be influenced by Greek thought and philosophy. One consequence of this was that natural theology came to the forefront. A pure moral code, belief in one God, hopes that extend beyond death—these resonated with the time; the Church presented them as both philosophically sound and divinely revealed. Furthermore, philosophy provided a framework that could be applied to Christian beliefs. The Platonic or eclectic belief in God, which included the idea of the Logos, created space for Christ to be understood in philosophical terms within the divine nature. (John 1:1 may or may not have been influenced by Philo; it stands almost alone in the New Testament.) Likewise, the immortality of the soul could be argued using Platonic or quasi-Platonic reasoning, as seen in St. Athanasius (Contra Gentes, § 33)—a writer who frequently references the Alexandrian Book of Wisdom, where Platonism and the Old Testament had already formed a connection. This particular aspect of Platonism, however, was adopted much more gradually. The earlier apologists debated the natural immortality of the soul; Athanasius himself, in De Incarnatione Dei, §§ 4, 5, softens the teachings of Wisdom; and the somewhat unconventional writer Arnobius, a layman—from Justin Martyr onward, apologetics has largely been in the hands of laypeople—supports what has recently been termed “conditional immortality”—eternal life granted only to the righteous, the children of God.

Allied with this more empiricist stand-point is the assertion that Greek philosophy borrowed from Moses; but in studying the Fathers we constantly find that groundless assertion uttered in the same breath with the dominant Idealist view, according to which Greek philosophy was due to incomplete revelation from the divine Logos.

Allied with this more empirical viewpoint is the claim that Greek philosophy borrowed from Moses; however, when examining the Fathers, we often encounter that unfounded claim mentioned alongside the prevailing Idealist perspective, which argues that Greek philosophy arose from an incomplete revelation from the divine Logos.

On purely defensive lines, early apologists rebut charges of cannibalism and sexual promiscuity; the Christians had to meet in secret, and the gossip of a rotten age drew malignant conclusions. They make counter attacks on polytheism as a folly and on the shamefulness of obscene myths. Here they are in line with non-Christian writers or culture-mockers like Lucian of Samosata; or graver spirits like Porphyry, who champions Neo-Platonism as a rival to Christianity, and does pioneer work in criticism by attacks on some of the Old Testament books. Turning to Christian evidence proper, we are struck with the continued prominence of the argument from prophecy. The Old Testament was an immense religious asset to the early church. Their enemies had nothing like it; and—the N.T. canon being as yet but half formed—the Old Testament was pushed into notice by dwelling on this imperfect “argument,” which grew more extravagant as the partial control exercised by Jewish learning disappeared. An argument from miracles is also urged, though with more reserve. Formally, every one in that age admitted the supernatural. The question was, whose supernatural? And how far did it carry you? Miracle could not be to a 3rd century writer what it was to W. Paley—a conclusive and well-nigh solitary proof. Other apologies are by Aristides (recently recovered in translation), Athenagoras (“elegant”), Eusebius of Caesarea, Cyril of Alexandria; in Latin by Minucius Felix, Tertullian (a masculine spirit and phrase-coiner like T. Carlyle, if bitterer still), Lactantius Firmianus, &c., &c.1

On purely defensive grounds, early defenders of the faith responded to accusations of cannibalism and sexual immorality; Christians had to gather in secret, and the rumors of a corrupt time led to malicious conclusions. They also launched counterarguments against polytheism as foolish and condemned the indecency of vulgar myths. They aligned themselves with non-Christian authors and culture critics like Lucian of Samosata, as well as more serious thinkers like Porphyry, who promotes Neo-Platonism as an alternative to Christianity and does groundbreaking work in criticism by challenging some Old Testament texts. When we look at the Christian evidence itself, we notice the ongoing importance of the argument from prophecy. The Old Testament was a huge religious asset for the early church. Their opponents had nothing comparable, and—with the New Testament canon still only partially formed—the Old Testament received attention by emphasizing this incomplete "argument," which became more extravagant as Jewish scholarship's influence waned. The argument from miracles is also presented, though with more caution. At that time, everyone accepted the supernatural. The real question was, whose supernatural? And how far did it extend? Miracle couldn't hold the same weight for a 3rd century writer as it did for W. Paley—a definitive and almost singular proof. Other defenses include those by Aristides (recently recovered in translation), Athenagoras ("elegant"), Eusebius of Caesarea, Cyril of Alexandria; in Latin, by Minucius Felix, Tertullian (a strong thinker and wordsmith like T. Carlyle, if even more acerbic), Lactantius Firmianus, etc., etc.1

As Christianity wins the day, a new objection is raised to it. The age is full of troubles; Christianity is ruining the empire! Besides notices elsewhere, we find the charge specially dealt with by St Augustine and his friends. Paulus Orosius argues that the world has always been a vale of tears. Salvian contends that not the acceptance of Christianity, but the sins of the people are bringing trouble upon them; and he gives ugly evidence of the continued prevalence of vice. Most impressive of all was Augustine’s own contribution in The City of God. Powers created by worldliness and sin are crumbling, as they well may; “the city of God remaineth!” Whether he meant it so or not, the saint’s argument became a programme and an apologia for the imperializing of the Western Church under the leadership of Rome during the middle ages.

As Christianity becomes more dominant, a new criticism emerges against it. The times are filled with chaos; Christianity is destroying the empire! In addition to notices in other places, this accusation is specifically addressed by St. Augustine and his associates. Paulus Orosius argues that the world has always been a place of suffering. Salvian claims that it’s not the acceptance of Christianity, but rather the people's sins that are causing their troubles; he provides disturbing evidence of ongoing immorality. Most compelling of all was Augustine’s own contribution in The City of God. Powers built on worldly concerns and sin are falling apart, as they rightly should; “the city of God remains!” Whether he intended it this way or not, the saint’s argument became a plan and a defense for the expansion of the Western Church under the guidance of Rome during the Middle Ages.

IV. Middle Ages.—From the point of view of apologetics, we may mass together the long stretch of history which covers the period between the disappearance and the re-appearance of free discussion. When emperors became converts, the church, so lately a victim and a pleader for liberty, readily learned to persecute. Under such conditions there is little scope for apologetics. Force kills argument and drives doubt below the smooth surface of a nominal conformity. But there were two influences beyond the bounds or beyond the power of the christianized empire. The Jew remained, as always, stubbornly unconvinced, and, as often, fond of slanders. Many of the principal medieval attempts in apologetics are directed chiefly against him, e.g. the Pugio Fidei of Raymond Martini (c. 1280), which became one of Pascal’s sources (see V. below), or Peter Abelard’s Dialogus inter Judaeum Philosophum et Christianum. And the Moslem came on the scenes bringing, as a gift for Christendom, fuller knowledge of classical, especially Aristotelian, texts. The Jews, less bitterly opposed to Mahommedanism than the Christians were, caught fire more rapidly, and in some cases served as an intermediate link or channel of communication. These two religions anticipated the discussion of the problem of faith and reason in the Christian church. According to the great Avicenna and Maimonides, faith and the highest reason are sure to coincide (see Arabian Philosophy). According to Ghazali, in his Destruction of Philosophers, the various schools of philosophy cancel each other; reason is bankrupt; faith is everything. (So nearly Jehuda Halevi.) According to Averroes, reason suffices, and faith, with (what he considers) its dreams of immortality and the like, is useful only for the ignorant masses. Christian theology, however, strikes out a line of its own. Moslems and Jews were applying Aristotelian philosophy to rigorously monotheistic faiths; Christianity had been encouraged by Platonism in teaching a trinity of divine persons, and Platonism of a certain order long dominated the middle ages as part of the Augustinian tradition. In sympathy with this Platonism, the medieval church began by assuming the entire mutual harmony of faith and reason. Such is the teaching, along different lines, alike of St Anselm and of Abelard. But, when increased knowledge of Aristotle’s texts (and of the commentaries) led to the victory of a supposed Aristotelianism over a supposed Platonism, Albertus Magnus, and his still more distinguished pupil Thomas Aquinas, mark certain doctrines as belonging to faith but not to reason. They adhere to the general position with exceptions (in the case of what had been considered Platonic doctrines). From the point of view of philosophy, this was a compromise. Faith and reason partly agree, partly diverge. The tendency of the later middle ages is to add to the number of the doctrines with which philosophy cannot deal. Thomas’s great rival, Duns Scotus, does this to a large extent, at times affirming “two truths.” The latter position, ascribed by the schoolmen to the Averroists, becomes dominant among the later Nominalists, William of Occam and his disciples, who withdraw all doctrines of faith from the sphere of reason. This was a second and a more audacious compromise. It is not exactly an attempt to base Christian faith on rational scepticism. It is a consistent policy of harbouring inconsistencies in the same mind. A statement may be true in philosophy and false in theology, or vice versa. To the standpoint of Aquinas, however, the Church of Rome (at least in regard to the basis of doctrine) has more and more returned. The councils of Trent and of the Vatican mark the Two Truths hypothesis as heretical, when they affirm that there is a natural knowledge of God and natural certainty of immortality. Along with this affirmation, the Church of Rome (if less decisively) has adopted the limitations of the Thomist theory by the condemnation of “Ontologism”; certain mysterious doctrines are beyond reason. This cautious compromise sanctioned by the Church does not represent the extremest reaction against nominalism. Even in the nominalistic epoch we have Raymond of Sabunde’s Natural Theology (according to the article in Herzog-Hauck, not the title of the oldest Paris MS., but found in later MSS. and almost all the printed editions) or Liber Creaturarum (c. 1435). The book is not what moderns (schooled unconsciously in post-Reformation developments of Thomist ideas) expect under the name of natural theology. It is an attempt once more to demonstrate all scholastic dogmas out of the book of creation or on principles of natural reason. At many points it follows Anselm closely, and, of course, very often “makes light work” of its task.

IV. Middle Ages.—From the perspective of apologetics, we can group together the long period of history that spans the time between the end of free discussion and its return. When emperors converted to Christianity, the church, which had recently been a victim and a champion of liberty, quickly learned to persecute. In such circumstances, there is little room for apologetics. Force stifles argument and pushes doubt beneath the smooth surface of superficial conformity. However, two influences existed beyond the reach or power of the Christianized empire. The Jew remained, as always, stubbornly unconvinced and often fond of slanders. Many of the key medieval efforts in apologetics were aimed primarily at him, e.g. the Pugio Fidei by Raymond Martini (c. 1280), which became one of Pascal’s sources (see V. below), or Peter Abelard’s Dialogus inter Judaeum Philosophum et Christianum. The Muslim also appeared, bringing with him a richer understanding of classical, especially Aristotelian, texts as a gift for Christendom. The Jews, less bitterly opposed to Islam than Christians were, became more receptive and sometimes acted as an intermediary or channel of communication. These two religions anticipated the discussion on faith and reason within the Christian church. According to the great thinkers Avicenna and Maimonides, faith and the highest reason will eventually align (see Arabian Philosophy). According to Ghazali in his Destruction of Philosophers, the various philosophical schools cancel each other out; reason is bankrupt; faith is everything. (This is nearly echoed by Jehuda Halevi.) According to Averroes, reason is sufficient, and faith, along with (what he considers) its fantasies of immortality and similar ideas, is only useful for the ignorant masses. However, Christian theology charted its own course. Muslims and Jews were applying Aristotelian philosophy to strictly monotheistic faiths; Christianity, bolstered by Platonism, taught a trinity of divine persons, and a specific form of Platonism long held sway over the Middle Ages as part of the Augustinian tradition. Aligning with this Platonism, the medieval church initially assumed a complete harmony between faith and reason. This is reflected in the teachings of both St. Anselm and Abelard. But as knowledge of Aristotle’s texts (and their commentaries) increased, leading to the dominance of a supposed Aristotelianism over a presumed Platonism, Albertus Magnus and his even more renowned student Thomas Aquinas identified certain doctrines as belonging to faith but not to reason. They maintained a general stance with some exceptions (particularly regarding what had been understood as Platonic doctrines). From a philosophical viewpoint, this was a compromise. Faith and reason both agree and diverge to some extent. The trend in the later Middle Ages was to increase the number of doctrines that philosophy could not engage with. Thomas’s significant rival, Duns Scotus, did this extensively, occasionally affirming “two truths.” This latter position, which was attributed by the schoolmen to the Averroists, became dominant among the later Nominalists, including William of Occam and his followers, who removed all doctrines of faith from the realm of reason. This represented a second, bolder compromise. It is not quite an attempt to ground Christian faith in rational skepticism. Instead, it is a consistent policy of holding conflicting ideas within the same mind. A statement may be true in philosophy and false in theology, or vice versa. From Aquinas's perspective, however, the Roman Church (at least regarding doctrinal foundations) increasingly returned to its earlier stance. The councils of Trent and the Vatican marked the Two Truths hypothesis as heretical, affirming that there is a natural knowledge of God and a natural certainty of immortality. Alongside this affirmation, the Roman Church (if less decisively) adopted the limitations of the Thomistic theory by condemning “Ontologism”; certain mysterious doctrines lie beyond reason. This cautious compromise sanctioned by the Church does not represent the extremest reaction against nominalism. Even during the nominalistic period, we have Raymond of Sabunde’s Natural Theology (according to the article in Herzog-Hauck, not the title of the oldest Paris manuscript, but found in later manuscripts and almost all printed editions) or Liber Creaturarum (c. 1435). The book is not what modern readers (who have been unconsciously educated with post-Reformation developments of Thomistic ideas) expect when they see the term natural theology. It is an attempt to demonstrate all scholastic dogmas from the book of creation or based on principles of natural reason. At many points, it closely follows Anselm and often “lightens the workload” of its task.

The Thomist compromise—or even the more sceptical view of “two truths”—has the merit of giving filling of a kind to the formula “supernatural revelation”—mysteries inaccessible to reason, beyond discovery and beyond comprehension. According to earlier views—repeatedly revived in Protestantism—revelation is just philosophy over again. Can the choice be 191 fairly stated? If revelation is thought of as God’s personal word, and redemption as his personal deed, is it reasonable to view them either as open to a sort of scientific prediction or as capricious and unintelligible? Even in the middle ages there were not wanting those—the St Victors, Bonaventura—who sought to vindicate mystical if not moral redemption as the central thought of Christianity.

The Thomist compromise—or even the more skeptical idea of “two truths”—has the advantage of giving some substance to the term “supernatural revelation”—mysteries that are beyond reason, beyond discovery, and beyond understanding. According to earlier perspectives—often revived in Protestantism—revelation is simply philosophy repeated. Can the choice be fairly presented? If we think of revelation as God’s personal word and redemption as his personal action, is it reasonable to view them either as something that can be predicted scientifically or as random and incomprehensible? Even in the Middle Ages, there were those—the St Victors, Bonaventura—who tried to defend mystical, if not moral, redemption as the central idea of Christianity.

V. Earlier Modern Period.—It will be seen that apologetics by no means reissued unchanged from the long period of authority. The compromise of Aquinas, though not unchallenged, holds the field and that even with Protestants. G.W. Leibnitz devotes an introductory chapter in his Théodicée, 1710 (as against Pierre Bayle), to faith and reason. He is a good enough Lutheran to quote as a “mystery” the Eucharist no less than the Trinity, while he insists that truths above are not against reason. Stated thus baldly, has the distinction any meaning? The more celebrated and central thesis of the book—this finite universe, the best of all such that are possible—also restates positions of Augustine and Aquinas.

V. Earlier Modern Period.—It will be noted that apologetics did not emerge unchanged from the long period of authority. The compromise of Aquinas, although not without its challenges, remains influential, even among Protestants. G.W. Leibnitz dedicates an introductory chapter in his Théodicée, 1710 (in response to Pierre Bayle), to the relationship between faith and reason. He is a sufficiently committed Lutheran to refer to both the Eucharist and the Trinity as a “mystery,” while also asserting that truths above are not against reason. Stated this plainly, does this distinction have any real meaning? The more famous and central argument of the book—that this finite universe is the best of all possible ones—also reiterates the positions of Augustine and Aquinas.

Before modern philosophy began its career, there was a great revival of ancient philosophy at the Renaissance; sometimes anti-Christian, sometimes pro-Christian. The latter furnishes apologies by Marsilio Ficino, Agostino Steuco, J.L. Vives.

Before modern philosophy started, there was a significant revival of ancient philosophy during the Renaissance; sometimes it was anti-Christian and other times pro-Christian. The pro-Christian side provided justifications by Marsilio Ficino, Agostino Steuco, and J.L. Vives.

Early in the modern period occurs the great name of Blaise Pascal (1623-1662). A staunch Roman Catholic, but belonging to a school of Augustinian enthusiasts (the Jansenists), whom the Church put down as heretics, he stands pretty much apart from the general currents. His Pensées, published posthumously, seems to have been meant for a systematic treatise, but it has come to us in fragments. Once again, a lay apologist! A layman’s work may have the advantage of originality or the drawback of imperfect knowledge. Pascal’s work exhibits both characters. It has the originality of rare genius, but it borrows its material (as industrious editors have shown) from very few sources—the Pugio Fidei, M. de Montaigne, P. Charron. Ideas as well as learning are largely Montaigne’s. The latter’s cheerful man-of-the-world scepticism is transfigured in Pascal to a deep distrust of human reason, in part, perhaps, from anti-Protestant motives. But this attitude, while not without parallels both earlier (Ghazali, Jehuda Halevi) and later (H.L. Mansel), has peculiarities in Pascal. It is fallen man whom he pursues with his fierce scorn; his view of man’s nature—intellect as well as character—is to be read in the light of his unflinching Augustinianism. Again, Pascal, unlike most apologists, belongs to the small company of saintly souls. This philosophical sceptic is full of humble joy in salvation, of deep love for the Saviour.

Early in the modern period, we find the impressive figure of Blaise Pascal (1623-1662). A devoted Roman Catholic, yet part of a group of Augustinian believers (the Jansenists) whom the Church labeled as heretics, he stands apart from mainstream thought. His Pensées, published after his death, seems to have been intended as a systematic treatise, but it has come to us in fragments. Once again, we see a lay apologist! A layperson’s work can offer the benefit of originality or the challenge of limited knowledge. Pascal’s work reflects both traits. It has the originality of a rare genius, but it draws its material (as diligent editors have demonstrated) from a very small number of sources—the Pugio Fidei, M. de Montaigne, P. Charron. The ideas and knowledge are largely Montaigne’s. Montaigne's lighthearted worldly skepticism is transformed in Pascal into a profound mistrust of human reason, partly perhaps due to anti-Protestant motives. However, this attitude, while not without earlier (Ghazali, Jehuda Halevi) and later (H.L. Mansel) parallels, has unique qualities in Pascal. He focuses on the fallen nature of man with intense disdain; his understanding of human nature—both intellect and character—should be viewed through his unwavering Augustinian lens. Additionally, unlike most apologists, Pascal is part of a small group of saintly souls. This philosophical skeptic is filled with humble joy in salvation and deep love for the Saviour.

Another French Roman Catholic apologist, P.D. Huet (1630-1721)—within the conditions of his age a prodigy of learning (in apologetics see his Demonstratio Evangelica)—is not uninfluenced by Pascal (Traité de la faiblesse de l’esprit humaine).

Another French Roman Catholic apologist, P.D. Huet (1630-1721)—a remarkable scholar for his time (in apologetics see his Demonstratio Evangelica)—is somewhat influenced by Pascal (Traité de la faiblesse de l’esprit humaine).

As we might expect, Protestant lands are more busily occupied with apologetics. Intolerant reliance upon force presents greater difficulties to them; soon it grows quite obsolete. Benedict Spinoza, the eminent Jewish pantheist (1632-1677), to whom miracle is impossible, revelation a phrase, and who renews pioneer work in Old Testament criticism, finds at least a fair measure of liberty and comfort in Holland (his birth-land). Bayle, the historical sceptic, lectured and published his learned Dictionnaire (1696) at Rotterdam. From Holland, earlier, had proceeded an apologetic work by a man of European fame. Hugo Grotius’s De Veritate Christianae Religionis (1627) is partly the medieval tradition:—Oppose Mahommedans and Jews! It is partly practical:—Arm Christian sailors against religious danger! But in its cool spirit it forecasts the coming age, whose master is John Locke. His Reasonableness of Christianity (1695) is the thesis of “a whole century” of theologians. And his Essay on the Human Understanding (1690) is almost a Bible to men of education during the same period; its lightest word treasured. Locke does not break with the compromise of Aquinas. But he transfers attention from contents to proof. Reason proves that a revelation has been made-and then submits. Leibnitz has to supplement rather than correct Locke on this point.

As we might expect, Protestant regions are more actively engaged in apologetics. Their reliance on force is intolerant and leads to greater challenges; it quickly becomes outdated. Benedict Spinoza, the notable Jewish pantheist (1632-1677), who believes that miracles are impossible and revelation is just a concept, finds a decent amount of freedom and comfort in Holland (his homeland). Bayle, the historical skeptic, taught and published his scholarly Dictionnaire (1696) in Rotterdam. Earlier, an apologetic work by a well-known figure had come from Holland. Hugo Grotius’s De Veritate Christianae Religionis (1627) partly reflects the medieval tradition:—Oppose Muslims and Jews! It also has a practical side:—Prepare Christian sailors for religious threats! Yet, in its calm perspective, it anticipates the coming era, whose leader is John Locke. His Reasonableness of Christianity (1695) represents the ideas of “a whole century” of theologians. His Essay on the Human Understanding (1690) serves almost as a Bible for educated individuals during that time; even its simplest statements are valued. Locke does not break away from Aquinas's compromise. Instead, he shifts focus from contents to proof. Reason shows that a revelation has occurred—and then accepts it. Leibnitz needs to add to rather than correct Locke on this point.

In such an atmosphere, deism readily uttered its protest against mysterious revelation. Deism is, in fact, the Thomist natural theology (more clearly distinguished from dogmatic theology than in the middle ages, alike by Protestants and by the post-Tridentine Church of Rome) now dissolving partnership with dogmatic and starting in business for itself. Or it is the doctrine of unfallen man’s “natural state”—a doctrine intensified in Protestantism—separating itself from the theologians’ grave doctrine of sin. If Socinianism had challenged natural theology—Christ, according to it, was the prophet who first revealed the way to eternal life—it had glorified the natural powers of man; and the learning of the Arminian divines (friends of Grotius and Locke) had helped to modernize Christian apologetics upon rational lines. Deism now taught that reason, or “the light of nature,” was all-sufficient.

In this environment, deism openly protested against mysterious revelation. Deism is essentially the Thomist natural theology, which is now more clearly set apart from dogmatic theology than it was in the Middle Ages, recognized by both Protestants and the post-Tridentine Catholic Church, as it breaks away from dogmatic beliefs to establish its own identity. It represents the concept of unfallen man’s “natural state”—a concept that has been amplified in Protestant thought—as it distances itself from theologians' serious discussions about sin. While Socinianism questioned natural theology—claiming that Christ was the prophet who first revealed the path to eternal life—it also celebrated the natural abilities of humanity. The scholarship of the Arminian theologians (supporters of Grotius and Locke) contributed to modernizing Christian defenses based on reason. Deism now argued that reason, or “the light of nature,” was entirely sufficient.

Not to dwell upon earlier continental “Deists” (mentioned by Viret as quoted first in Bayle’s Dictionary and again in the introduction to Leland’s View of the Deistical Writers), Lord Herbert of Cherbury (De Veritate, 1624; De Religione Gentilium, 1645?—according to J.G. Walch’s Bibliotheca Theologica (1757) not published complete until 1663) was universally understood as hinting conclusions hostile to Christianity (cf. also T. Hobbes, Leviathan, 1651, ch. xxxi.; Spinoza, Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, 1670, ch. xiv.). Professedly, Herbert’s contention merely is that non-Christians feeling after the “supreme God” and the law of righteousness must have a chance of salvation. Herbert was also epoch-making for the whole 18th century in teaching that priests had corrupted this primitive faith. During the 18th century deism spread widely, though its leaders were “irrepressible men like Toland, men of mediocre culture and ability like Anthony Collins, vulgar men like Chubb, irritated and disagreeable men like Matthew Tindal, who conformed that he might enjoy his Oxford fellowship and wrote anonymously that he might relieve his conscience” (A.M. Fairbairn). More distinguished sympathizers are Edward Gibbon, who has the deistic spirit, and David Hume, the historian and philosophical sceptic, who has at least the letter of the deistic creed (Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion), and who uses Pascal’s appeal to “faith” in a spirit of mockery (Essay on Miracles). In France the new school found powerful speaking-trumpets, especially Voltaire, the idol of his age—a great denier and scoffer, but always sincerely a believer in the God of reason—and the deeper but wilder spirit of J.J. Rousseau. Others in France developed still more startling conclusions from Locke’s principles, E.B. Condillac’s sensationalism—Locke’s philosophy purged of its more ideal if less logical elements—leading on to materialism in J.O. de la Mettrie; and at least one of the Encyclopedists (P.H. von Holbach) capped materialism with confessed atheism.

Not to focus too much on earlier continental “Deists” (mentioned by Viret as quoted first in Bayle’s Dictionary and again in the introduction to Leland’s View of the Deistical Writers), Lord Herbert of Cherbury (De Veritate, 1624; De Religione Gentilium, 1645?—according to J.G. Walch’s Bibliotheca Theologica (1757) not published complete until 1663) was widely seen as suggesting conclusions that were critical of Christianity (see also T. Hobbes, Leviathan, 1651, ch. xxxi; Spinoza, Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, 1670, ch. xiv). Essentially, Herbert argued that non-Christians seeking the “supreme God” and the law of righteousness deserve a chance for salvation. Herbert also had a significant impact on the entire 18th century by claiming that priests had corrupted this fundamental faith. Throughout the 18th century, deism gained a lot of followers, though its leaders were often “irrepressible individuals like Toland, people of average culture and ability like Anthony Collins, crass individuals like Chubb, and difficult and unpleasant individuals like Matthew Tindal, who conformed to keep his Oxford fellowship and wrote anonymously to ease his conscience” (A.M. Fairbairn). More notable supporters include Edward Gibbon, who embodied the deistic spirit, and David Hume, the historian and philosophical skeptic, who at least adhered to the principles of deism (Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion), and who mockingly used Pascal’s appeal to “faith” in his (Essay on Miracles). In France, this new movement found strong advocates, particularly Voltaire, the idol of his time—a great denier and mocker, but always a sincere believer in the God of reason—and the deeper yet more chaotic spirit of J.J. Rousseau. Others in France took Locke’s principles even further, with E.B. Condillac’s sensationalism—Locke’s philosophy stripped of its more ideal yet less logical elements—leading to materialism in J.O. de la Mettrie; and at least one of the Encyclopedists (P.H. von Holbach) capped materialism with open atheism.

In Germany the parallel movement of “illumination” (H.S. Reimarus; J.S. Semler, pioneer in N.T. criticism; and a layman, the great Lessing) took the form of “rationalism” within the church—interpreting Bible texts by main force in a way which the age thought “enlightened” (H.E.G. Paulus, 1761-1851, &c.).

In Germany, the parallel movement of "illumination" (H.S. Reimarus; J.S. Semler, a pioneer in New Testament criticism; and a layman, the great Lessing) took the form of "rationalism" within the church—interpreting Bible texts in a way that the era considered "enlightened" (H.E.G. Paulus, 1761-1851, etc.).

Among the innumerable English anti-deistic writers (see W. Law, The Case of Reason; R. Bentley, or “Phileleutherus Lipsiensis”; &c., &c.), three are of chief importance. Nathaniel Lardner (Arian, 1684-1768) stands in the front rank of the scholarship of his time, and uses his vast knowledge to maintain the genuineness of all books of the New Testament and the perfect accuracy of its history. Joseph Butler, a very original, careful and honest thinker, lifts controversy with deists from details to principles in his Analogy of Religion both Natural and Revealed to the Constitution and Course of Nature (1736). This title introduces us to a new conception. Deists and orthodox in those days agreed in recognizing not merely natural theology but natural religion—“essential religion,” Butler more than once styles it; the expression shows how near he stood intellectually to those he criticized. But morally he stood aloof. In part i.—on Natural Religion—he defends a moral or punishing Deity against the sentimental softness of the age. The God of Nature, whom deists confess does punish in time, if they will 192 but look at the facts; why not in eternity? “Morality,” as others have confessed, is “the nature of things”! Not the Being of God is discussed—Butler will not waste words on triflers (as he thinks them) who deny that—but God’s character. Unfortunately (perhaps) Butler prefers to argue on admitted principles; holds much of his own moral belief in reserve; tries to reduce everything to a question of probable fact. If this hampers him in part i., the situation appears still worse in part ii., which is directly occupied with the defence of Christianity. Butler says nothing about incomprehensible mysteries, and protests that reason is the only ground we have to proceed upon. But by treating the atonement simply as revealed (and unexplained) matter of fact—in spite of some partial analogies in human experience, a thing essentially anomalous—Butler repeats, and applies to the moral contents of Christianity, what Aquinas said of its speculative doctrines. (Whether one calls the unknowable a revealed mystery or an unexplained and inexplicable fact makes little difference.) William Paley (1743-1805) borrows from many writers; he borrows Lardner’s learning and Butler’s “particular evidence for Christianity,” viz. miracles, prophecy and “history”; and he states his points with perfect clearness. No man ever filled a typical position more exactly than Paley. Eighteenth-century ethics—Hedonism, with a theological background. Empiricist Natural Theology—the argument from Design. Christian Evidences—the strong probability of the resurrection of Christ and the consequent authority of his teaching. Horae Paulinae—mutual confirmations of Acts and Epistles; better, though one-sided. When such exclusively “external” arguments are urged, the contents of Christianity go for next to nothing.

Among the countless English writers arguing against theism (see W. Law, The Case of Reason; R. Bentley, or “Phileleutherus Lipsiensis”; etc., etc.), three are particularly important. Nathaniel Lardner (Arian, 1684-1768) ranks among the top scholars of his time and uses his extensive knowledge to argue for the authenticity of all the New Testament books and the complete accuracy of its history. Joseph Butler, a very original, careful, and honest thinker, elevates the debate with deists from specifics to principles in his Analogy of Religion both Natural and Revealed to the Constitution and Course of Nature (1736). This title introduces a new idea. Deists and orthodox believers of that time agreed on recognizing not just natural theology but also natural religion—which Butler refers to multiple times as “essential religion”; this expression shows how closely he relates intellectually to his critics. However, morally he kept his distance. In part i.—on Natural Religion—he defends a moral or punishing God against the emotional softness of the era. The God of Nature, whom deists acknowledge, does punish in this life if they would just look at the facts; so why not in eternity? “Morality,” as others have acknowledged, is “the nature of things”! The existence of God isn’t debated—Butler refuses to waste his breath on what he considers petty denials of that—but rather God’s character. Unfortunately (maybe), Butler prefers to argue based on admitted principles; he keeps much of his own moral beliefs to himself; he attempts to reduce everything to a question of probable fact. While this limits him in part i., the situation seems even worse in part ii., which focuses directly on defending Christianity. Butler doesn’t mention incomprehensible mysteries and insists that reason is the only foundation we have to work from. By handling the atonement as simply a revealed (and unexplained) matter of fact—in spite of some partial analogies in human experience, which is fundamentally anomalous—Butler reiterates, and applies to the moral principles of Christianity, what Aquinas said about its speculative doctrines. (Whether one calls the unknowable a revealed mystery or an unexplained and inexplicable fact hardly matters.) William Paley (1743-1805) draws from many writers; he takes Lardner’s scholarship and Butler’s “specific evidence for Christianity,” namely miracles, prophecy, and “history”; and he presents his arguments with perfect clarity. No one has ever occupied a typical position more precisely than Paley. Eighteenth-century ethics—Hedonism, with a theological background. Empiricist Natural Theology—the argument from Design. Christian Evidences—the strong likelihood of Christ’s resurrection and the consequent authority of his teachings. Horae Paulinae—mutual confirmations between Acts and Epistles; better, although somewhat one-sided. When such exclusively “external” arguments are presented, the essence of Christianity is given little consideration.

VI. Later Modern Period.—Towards the end of the 18th century a new epoch of reconstruction begins in the thought and life of civilization. The leader in speculative philosophy is Immanuel Kant, though he includes many agnostic elements, and draws the inference (which some things in the letter of Butler might seem to warrant) that the essence of Christianity is an ethical theism. While he thus created a new and more ethical “rationalism,” Kant’s many-sided influence, alike in philosophy and in theology, worked to further issues. He (and other Germans, but not G.W.F. Hegel) was represented in England in a fragmentary way by S.T. Coleridge (1772-1834), probably the most typical figure of his period—another layman. His general thought was that “rationalism” represents an uprising of the lower reason or “understanding” against the higher or true “reason.” The mysteries of theology are its best part—not alien to reason but of its substance, the “logos.” This is to upset the compromise of Aquinas and go back to a Christian platonism. Of course the difficulty revives again: If a philosophy, why supernaturally revealed? Thomas Arnold, criticizing Edward Hawkins, appeals rather to the atonement as deeper neglected truth. So in Scotland, Thomas Erskine and Thomas Chalmers—the latter in contradiction to his earlier position—hold that the doctrine of salvation, when translated into experience, furnishes “internal evidence”—a somewhat broader use of the phrase than when it applies merely to evidence of date or authorship drawn from the contents of a book. This gives a new and moral filling to the conception of “supernatural revelation” The attempt to work out either of the reactions against Thomism in new theological systems is pretty much confined to Germany. Hegel’s theological followers, of every shade and party, represent the first, and Schleiermacher’s the second. Schleiermacher rejects natural religion in favour of the positive religions, while the school of A. Ritschl and W. Herrmann reject natural theology outright in favour of revelation—a striking external parallel to early Socinianism. British and American divines, on the other hand, are slow to suspect that a new apologetic principle may mean a new system of apologetics, to say nothing of a new dogmatic. Among the evangelicals, for the most part, natural theology, far from being rejected, is not even modified, and certain doctrines continue to be described as incomprehensible mysteries. No Protestant, of course, can agree with Roman Catholic theology that (supernatural) faith is an obedient assent to church authority and the mysteries it dictates. To Protestantism, faith is personal trust. But the principle is hardly ever carried out to the end. Mysterious doctrines are ascribed by Protestants to scripture; so half of revelation is regarded as matter for blind assent, if another half is luminous in experience. The movement of German philosophy which led from Kant to Hegel has indeed found powerful British champions (T.H. Green, J. and E. Caird, &c.), but less churchly than Coleridge (or F.D. Maurice or B.F. Westcott), though churchly again in J.R. Illingworth and other contributors to Lux Mundi (1890). Before this wave of thought, H.L. Mansel tried (1858) to play Pascal’s game on Kantian principles, developing the sceptical side of Kant’s many-faceted mind. But as he protested against relying on the human conscience—the one element of positive conviction spared by Kant—his ingenuity found few admirers except H. Spencer, who claims him as justifying anti-Christian agnosticism. Butler’s tradition was more directly continued by J.H. Newman—with modifications on becoming a Roman Catholic in the light of the church’s decision in favour of Thomism. A.M. Fairbairn (Catholicism, Roman and Anglican, ch. v., and elsewhere) and E.A. Abbott (Philomythus, and elsewhere) suspect Newman of a sceptical leaven and extend the criticism to Butler’s doctrine of “probability.” Yet it seems plain that any theology, maintaining redemption as historical fact (and not merely ideal), must attach religious importance to conclusions which are technically probable rather than proven. If we transfer Christian evidence from the “historical” to the “philosophical” with H. Rashdall—we surely cut down Christianity to the limits of theism. And the inner mind of Butler has moral anchorage in the Analogy, quite as much as in the Sermons. It is in part ii. more than in part i. of his masterpiece that the light seems to grow dim. Another of the Oxford converts to Rome, W.G. Ward, made vigorous contributions to natural theology.

VI. Later Modern Period.—Towards the end of the 18th century, a new era of reconstruction begins in the thoughts and lives of civilization. The main figure in speculative philosophy is Immanuel Kant, who, despite incorporating many agnostic elements, infers (which some aspects of Butler’s letters might suggest) that the core of Christianity is an ethical theism. In doing so, he created a new and more ethical form of “rationalism.” Kant’s wide-ranging influence, both in philosophy and theology, helped advance various issues. He (along with other Germans, excluding G.W.F. Hegel) was briefly represented in England by S.T. Coleridge (1772-1834), probably the most typical figure of his time—another layman. His general belief was that “rationalism” signifies an uprising of the lower reason or “understanding” against the higher or true “reason.” The mysteries of theology are its best aspect—not separate from reason but part of its essence, the “logos.” This challenges Aquinas's compromise and returns to a Christian Platonism. Of course, the question arises again: If it is a philosophy, why should it be supernaturally revealed? Thomas Arnold criticized Edward Hawkins and emphasized the atonement as a significantly overlooked truth. Likewise, in Scotland, Thomas Erskine and Thomas Chalmers—the latter contradicting his earlier stance—argue that the doctrine of salvation, when experienced, provides “internal evidence”—a somewhat broader use of the term than when it pertains solely to evidence of date or authorship found in a book. This gives a new and ethical depth to the idea of “supernatural revelation.” The attempt to develop either of the reactions against Thomism into new theological systems mainly occurs in Germany. Hegel’s theological followers, of varying opinions and factions, represent the first stance, while Schleiermacher’s followers represent the second. Schleiermacher rejects natural religion in favor of positive religions, while the school of A. Ritschl and W. Herrmann outright rejects natural theology in favor of revelation—a striking external parallel to early Socinianism. On the other hand, British and American theologians are slow to suspect that a new apologetic principle could indicate a new system of apologetics, not to mention a new dogmatics. Among evangelicals, for the most part, natural theology is not only accepted but not even modified, and certain doctrines still continue to be considered incomprehensible mysteries. No Protestant, of course, would agree with Roman Catholic theology that (supernatural) faith is an obedient assent to church authority and the mysteries it dictates. To Protestants, faith is personal trust. However, this principle is rarely fully applied. Mysterious doctrines are attributed by Protestants to scripture; thus, half of revelation is viewed as something requiring blind assent if the other half is clear in experience. The movement of German philosophy, which transitioned from Kant to Hegel, has indeed found strong British supporters (T.H. Green, J. and E. Caird, etc.), but they are less church-oriented than Coleridge (or F.D. Maurice or B.F. Westcott), although more church-related individuals include J.R. Illingworth and other contributors to Lux Mundi (1890). Before this wave of thought, H.L. Mansel attempted (1858) to play Pascal’s role based on Kantian principles, exploring the skeptical side of Kant’s multifaceted mindset. However, as he critiqued the reliance on human conscience—the only element of positive conviction preserved by Kant—his cleverness garnered few admirers, except for H. Spencer, who claims him as a justification for anti-Christian agnosticism. Butler’s legacy was more directly continued by J.H. Newman—with changes upon converting to Roman Catholicism in light of the church's decision favoring Thomism. A.M. Fairbairn (Catholicism, Roman and Anglican, ch. v., and elsewhere) and E.A. Abbott (Philomythus, and elsewhere) suspect Newman of a skeptical influence and extend their critique to Butler’s doctrine of “probability.” Yet, it appears evident that any theology affirming redemption as a historical fact (and not merely an ideal) must attribute religious significance to conclusions that are technically probable rather than conclusively proven. If we shift Christian evidence from the “historical” to the “philosophical” with H. Rashdall—we would certainly restrict Christianity to the boundaries of theism. And the inner mind of Butler finds moral grounding in the Analogy, as much as in the Sermons. It is in part ii. more than in part i. of his masterpiece that the clarity seems to fade. Another of the Oxford converts to Rome, W.G. Ward, made vigorous contributions to natural theology.

VII. Contents of Modern Apologetics.—Superficially regarded, philosophy ebbs and flows, whatever progress the debate may reveal to speculative insight. Old positions re-emerge from forgetfulness, and there is always a philosophy to back every “case.” More visible dangers arise for the apologist in the region of science, historical or physical. There the progress of truth, within whatever limits, is manifest. Essays and Reviews (1860) was a vehement announcement of scientific results—startling English conservatism awake for the first time. And in the scientific region the great apologetic classics, like Butler, are hopelessly out of date. The modern apologist must do ephemeral work—unless it should chance that he proves to be the skirmisher, pioneering for a modified dogmatic. He holds a watching brief. While he must beware of hasty speech, he has often to plead that new knowledge does not really threaten faith; or that it is not genuinely established knowledge at all; or else, that faith has mistaken its own grounds, and will gain strength by concentrating on its true field. The work is not always well done; but the Christian church needs it.

VII. Contents of Modern Apologetics.—On the surface, philosophy comes and goes, regardless of any progress that debate may reveal to speculative insight. Old viewpoints resurface from being forgotten, and there’s always a philosophy ready to support any “case.” The apologist faces more obvious challenges in the realm of science, whether historical or physical. There, the advancement of truth, within whatever boundaries, is clear. Essays and Reviews (1860) was a strong declaration of scientific findings—shocking English conservatism into awareness for the first time. In the realm of science, classic apologetic works like Butler’s are hopelessly outdated. The modern apologist must often do temporary work—unless they happen to be the forerunner, leading the way for a reformed dogma. They remain vigilant. While being cautious with their words, they often have to argue that new knowledge doesn’t actually threaten faith; or that it’s not truly established knowledge at all; or that faith has misjudged its foundations and will become stronger by focusing on its true domain. The work is not always done well; but the Christian church needs it.

1. Apologetics and Philosophy.—The main part of this subject is discussed under Theism. Some notes may be added on special points, (a) Freewill is generally assumed on the Christian side (R.C. Church; Scottish philosophy; H. Lotze; J. Martineau; W.G. Ward. Not in a libertarian sense; Leibnitz. New and obscure issues raised by Kant). But there is no continuous tradition or steady trend of discussion. (b) Personal immortality is affirmed as philosophically certain by the Church of Rome and many Protestant writers. Others teach “conditional immortality.” Others base the hope on belief in the resurrection of Christ, (c) Theodicy—the tradition of Leibnitz is preserved (on libertarian lines) by Martineau (A Study of Religion, 1883). See also F.R. Tennant’s Origin and Propagation of Sin (1902)—sin a “bye-product” of a generally good evolution. Others find in the gospel of redemption the true theodicy. (d) The problem of Christian apologetic has been simplified in the past by the prevalence of the Christian ethics and temper even among many non-Christians (e.g. J.S. Mill). But hereafter it may not prove possible for the apologist to assume as unchallenged the Christian 193 moral outlook. Germans have suspected an anti-Christian strain in Goethe; all the world knows of it in E. von Hartmann or F. Nietzsche.

1. Apologetics and Philosophy.—The main part of this topic is discussed under Theism. Some notes may be added on specific points, (a) Freewill is generally assumed in Christian thought (like the Roman Catholic Church, Scottish philosophy, H. Lotze, J. Martineau, and W.G. Ward. Not in a libertarian way; Leibniz. New and unclear issues are raised by Kant). However, there is no continuous tradition or steady trend of discussion. (b) Personal immortality is affirmed as philosophically certain by the Roman Catholic Church and many Protestant writers. Others teach “conditional immortality.” Some base the hope on belief in the resurrection of Christ, (c) Theodicy—the tradition of Leibniz is preserved (on libertarian lines) by Martineau (A Study of Religion, 1883). See also F.R. Tennant’s Origin and Propagation of Sin (1902)—sin as a “by-product” of generally good evolution. Others find the true theodicy in the gospel of redemption. (d) The problem of Christian apologetics has been simplified in the past by the prevalence of Christian ethics and temperament even among many non-Christians (e.g., J.S. Mill). But in the future, it may not be possible for the apologist to take the Christian moral outlook as unchallenged. Germans have suspected an anti-Christian strain in Goethe; the entire world knows of it in E. von Hartmann or F. Nietzsche.

2. Apologetics and Physical Science.—(a) Copernicanism has won its battles and the Church of Rome would fain have its error forgotten. The admission is now general that the Bible cannot be expected to use the language of scientific astronomy. Still, it is not certain that the shock of Copernicanism on supernatural Christianity is exhausted. (b) Geology has also won its battles, and few now try to harmonize it with Genesis. (c) Evolution came down from the clouds when C. Darwin and A.R. Wallace succeeded in displacing the naïf conception of special creation by belief in the origin of species out of other species through a process of natural law. This gave immense vogue to wider and vaguer theories of evolutionary process, notably to H. Spencer’s grandiose cosmic formula in terms of mechanism. Here the apologist has more to say. The special Darwinian hypothesis—natural “selection”—may or may not be true; it was at least a fruitful suggestion. If true, it need not be exhaustive. Again, evolution itself need not apply everywhere. We are offered a philosophical rather than a scientific speculation when E. Caird (Evolution of Religion, 1893) tries to vindicate Christianity as the highest working of nature—true just because evolved from lower religions. The Christian apologist indeed may himself seek, following John Fiske, to philosophize evolution as a restatement of natural theology—“one God, one law, one element and one far-off divine event”—and as at least pointing towards personal immortality. But if evolution is to be the whole truth regarding Christianity, we should have to surrender both supernatural revelation and divine redemption. And these, it may be strongly urged, contain the magic of Christianity. Losing them it might sink into a lifeless theory.

2. Apologetics and Physical Science.—(a) Copernicanism has won its battles, and the Catholic Church would prefer that its mistake be forgotten. It's now widely accepted that the Bible shouldn't be expected to use the language of scientific astronomy. However, it’s still unclear if the impact of Copernicanism on supernatural Christianity is fully resolved. (b) Geology has also triumphed, and few people now attempt to reconcile it with Genesis. (c) Evolution became a prominent idea when C. Darwin and A.R. Wallace replaced the simplistic view of special creation with the belief that species originate from other species through natural processes. This opened the door for broader and less defined theories of evolution, particularly H. Spencer’s elaborate cosmic idea expressed in terms of mechanism. Here, the apologist has more to contribute. The specific Darwinian idea of natural “selection” may or may not be accurate; at the very least, it was a productive idea. If it is true, it doesn’t have to be the complete explanation. Moreover, evolution itself doesn’t have to apply universally. E. Caird offers a philosophical rather than a scientific perspective when he attempts to justify Christianity as the highest expression of nature—true precisely because it evolved from earlier religions. The Christian apologist might also follow John Fiske in trying to interpret evolution as a rephrasing of natural theology—“one God, one law, one element, and one distant divine event”—and at least hinting at personal immortality. However, if evolution is to be considered the entire truth about Christianity, we would have to let go of both supernatural revelation and divine redemption. And it could be strongly argued that these concepts hold the essence of Christianity. Without them, it might degenerate into a lifeless theory.

As far as pure science goes, the inference from science in favour of materialism has visibly lost much of its plausibility, and Protestant apologists would probably be prepared to accept in advance all verified discoveries as belonging to a different region from that of faith. Roman Catholic apologetic prefers to negotiate in detail.

As far as pure science is concerned, the argument from science in support of materialism has clearly lost a lot of its credibility, and Protestant defenders would likely be ready to accept verified discoveries as belonging to a different area from faith. Roman Catholic apologetics prefers to discuss specifics.

3. Apologetics and History.—History brings us nearer the heart of the Christian position. (a) Old Testament criticism won startling victories towards the end of the 19th century. It blots out much supposed knowledge, but throws a vivid and interesting light on the reconstrued process of history. Most Protestants accept the general scheme of criticism; those who hang back make not a few concessions (e.g. J. Orr, Problem of the O.T., 1906). The Roman Catholic Church again prefers an attitude of reserve, (b) New Testament criticism raises even more delicate issues. Positively it may be affirmed that the recovered figure of the historical Jesus is the greatest asset in the possession of modern Christian theology and apologetics. The “Lives” of Christ, Roman Catholic and Protestant; “critical” (D.F. Strauss, A. Renan, &c., &c.) and “believing,” imply this at least. Negatively, “unchallenged historical certainties” are becoming few in number, or are disappearing altogether, through the industry of modern minds. True, the Tübingen criticism of F.C. Baur and his school—important as the first scientific attempt to conceive New Testament conditions and literature as a whole—has been abandoned. (A. Ritschl’s Entstehung der alt-katholischen Kirche, 2nd edition, 1857, was an especially telling reply.) The synoptic gospels are now treated with considerable respect. It is no longer suggested in responsible quarters that they are party documents sacrificing truth to “tendency.” But not all quarters are responsible; and in the effort to grasp scientifically, i.e. accurately, the amazing facts of Christ and primitive Christianity, every imaginable hypothesis is canvassed. Even the Roman Catholic Church produced the Abbé Loisy (though he undertakes to play off church certainties against historical uncertainties). Hitherto at least the fourth gospel has been the touchstone. The authorship of the epistles is in many cases a matter of subordinate importance; at least for Protestants or for those surrendering Bible infallibility, which Rome can hardly do. (c) New Testament history, The apologist must maintain (1) that Jesus of Nazareth is a real historical figure—a point well-nigh overlooked by Strauss, and denied by some modern advocates of a mythical theory; (2) that Jesus is knowable (not one “of whom we really know very little”—B. Jowett) in his teaching, example, character, historical personality; and that he is full of moral splendour. On the other hand, faith has no special interest in claiming that we can compose a biographical study of the development of Jesus. Certainly no early writer thought of providing material for such use. It is a common opinion in Germany that our material is in fact too scanty or too self-contradictory. Yet the fascination of the subject will always revive the attempt. If it succeeds, there will be a new line of communication along which that great personality will tell on men’s minds and hearts. If it fails—there are other channels; character can be known and trusted even when we are baffled by a thing necessarily so full of mystery as the development of a personality. Notably, the manifest non-consciousness of personal guilt in Jesus suggests to us his sinlessness. (3) Apologists maintain that Jesus “claimed” Messiahship. There are speculative constructions of gospel history which eliminate that claim; and no doubt apologetics could—with more or less difficulty—restate its position in a changed form if the paradox of to-day became accepted as historical fact to-morrow. The central apologetic thesis is the uniqueness of the “only-begotten”; it is here that “the supernatural” passes into the substance of Christian faith. But most probably the description of Jesus as thus unique will continue to be associated with the allegation—He told us so; he claimed Messiahship and “died for the claim.” (See preface to 5th ed. of Ecce Homo.) Nor did so superhuman a claim crush him, or deprive his soul of its balance. He imparted to the title a grander significance out of the riches of his personality. (4) In the light of this the “argument from prophecy” is reconstructed. It ceases to lay much stress upon coincidences between Old Testament predictions or “types” and events in Christ’s career. It becomes the assertion; historically, providentially, the expectation of a unique religious figure arose—“the” Messiah; and Jesus gave himself to be thought of as that great figure. (5) It is also claimed as certain that Jesus had marvellous powers of healing. More reserve is being shown towards the other or “nature” miracles. These latter, it may be remarked, are more unambiguously supernatural. But, if Jesus really cured leprosy or really restored the dead to life, we have miracle plainly enough in the region of healing. (6) For Jesus’ own resurrection several lines of evidence are alleged. (i.) All who believe that in any sense Christ rose again insist upon the impression which his personality made during life. It was he whose resurrection seemed credible! Some practically stop here; the apologist proceeds. (ii.) There is the report of the empty grave; historically, not easily waved aside. (iii.) We have New Testament reports of appearances of the risen Jesus; subjective? the mere clothing of the impression made by his personality during life? or objective? “telegrams” from heaven (Th. Keim)—“Veridical Hallucinations”? or something even more, throwing a ray of light perhaps on the state and powers of the happy dead? (iv.) There is the immense influence of Jesus Christ in history, associated with belief in him as the risen Son of God.

3. Apologetics and History.—History gets us closer to the core of the Christian belief. (a) Old Testament criticism had remarkable successes toward the end of the 19th century. It wipes out much supposed knowledge but sheds a bright and engaging light on the reinterpreted process of history. Most Protestants accept the general framework of this criticism; those who hesitate make several concessions (e.g. J. Orr, Problem of the O.T., 1906). The Roman Catholic Church tends to be more reserved. (b) New Testament criticism presents even more sensitive issues. It can be positively stated that the rediscovered figure of the historical Jesus is the biggest asset in modern Christian theology and apologetics. The “Lives” of Christ, both Roman Catholic and Protestant; “critical” (D.F. Strauss, A. Renan, etc.) and “believing,” at least imply this. Negatively, “unchallenged historical certainties” are becoming fewer or disappearing altogether due to the efforts of modern thinkers. Indeed, the Tübingen criticism of F.C. Baur and his followers—significant as the first scientific attempt to understand New Testament conditions and literature as a whole—has been put aside. (A. Ritschl’s Entstehung der alt-katholischen Kirche, 2nd edition, 1857, was a particularly effective response.) The synoptic gospels are now approached with considerable respect. It is no longer suggested in responsible circles that they are partisan documents sacrificing truth for “tendency.” However, not all sources are responsible; and in the push to scientifically grasp, i.e. accurately, the astonishing facts of Christ and early Christianity, every conceivable hypothesis is explored. Even the Roman Catholic Church gave us the Abbé Loisy (though he tries to balance church certainties against historical uncertainties). Until now, the fourth gospel has been the benchmark. The authorship of the epistles is often a lesser concern; at least for Protestants or those who give up on the infallibility of the Bible, which Rome can hardly do. (c) New Testament history, The apologist must assert (1) that Jesus of Nazareth is a real historical figure—a point almost overlooked by Strauss, and denied by some modern proponents of a mythical theory; (2) that Jesus is knowable (not one “of whom we really know very little”—B. Jowett) in his teachings, example, character, and historical personality; and that he exhibits moral greatness. On the other hand, faith has no specific interest in claiming that we can create a biographical study of Jesus's development. Certainly, no early writer intended to provide material for that purpose. It is a common view in Germany that our material is either too scarce or too self-contradictory. Yet the allure of the subject will always prompt renewed attempts. If successful, it could lead to a new way for that great personality to influence people's minds and hearts. If it doesn't succeed—there are other avenues; character can be recognized and trusted even when we are perplexed by something as inherently mysterious as the development of a personality. Notably, the evident non-consciousness of personal guilt in Jesus suggests his sinlessness. (3) Apologists argue that Jesus “claimed” the title of Messiah. There are speculative interpretations of gospel history that eliminate that claim; and surely apologetics could—with varying degrees of difficulty—rephrase its standpoint in a changed context if today’s paradox was accepted as historical fact tomorrow. The main apologetic argument is the uniqueness of the “only-begotten”; this is where “the supernatural” integrates into the core of Christian faith. But it's likely that describing Jesus as unique will continue to be linked with the assertion—He stated it himself; he claimed Messiahship and “died for that claim.” (See preface to 5th ed. of Ecce Homo.) Furthermore, such a superhuman claim did not overwhelm him or disrupt his soul's balance. He infused the title with a greater significance based on the richness of his personality. (4) In light of this, the “argument from prophecy” is redefined. It no longer heavily emphasizes coincidences between Old Testament predictions or “types” and events in Christ’s life. Instead, it asserts; historically, providentially, the expectation of a unique religious figure emerged—“the” Messiah; and Jesus presented himself to be viewed as that great figure. (5) It is also confidently claimed that Jesus had incredible healing powers. There is now more caution regarding the other or “nature” miracles. These latter, it should be noted, are more clearly supernatural. However, if Jesus really healed leprosy or truly raised the dead, we have miracles evident enough in the area of healing. (6) For Jesus’ resurrection, several lines of evidence are put forward. (i.) All who believe that Christ rose again in any sense emphasize the impact his personality had while he was alive. It was he whose resurrection seemed credible! Some stop their argument there; the apologist continues. (ii.) There is the report of the empty tomb; historically, it cannot be easily dismissed. (iii.) We have New Testament accounts of appearances of the risen Jesus; are they subjective? Merely the expression of the impression he made during life? Or are they objective? “telegrams” from heaven (Th. Keim)—“Veridical Hallucinations”? Or perhaps something even more, casting light on the state and powers of the blessed dead? (iv.) There is the vast influence of Jesus Christ in history, linked with belief in him as the risen Son of God.

In view of the claims of Jesus, different possibilities arise, (i.) The evangelists impute to him a higher claim than he made. This may be called the rationalistic solution; with sympathy in Christ’s ethical teaching, there is relief at minimizing his great claim. So, brilliantly, Wellhausen’s Gospel commentaries and Introduction. (Mark fairly historical; other gospels’ fuller account of Christ’s teaching and claims unreliable.) (ii.) The claim was fraudulent (Reimarus; Renan, ed. 1; popular anti-Christian agitation). This is a counsel of despair. (iii.) He was an enthusiastic dreamer, expecting the world’s end. This the apologist will recognize as the most plausible hostile alternative. He may feel bound to admit an element of illusion in Christ’s vision’ of the future; but he will contend that the apocalyptic form did not destroy the spiritual content of Christ’s revelations—nay, that it was itself the 194 vehicle of great truths. So he will argue as the essence of the matter that (iv.) he who has occupied Christ’s place in history, and won such reverence from the purest souls, was what he claimed to be, and that his many-sidedness comes to focus and harmony when we recognize him as the Christ of God and the Saviour of the world.

In light of Jesus's claims, several possibilities emerge: (i.) The evangelists attribute a higher claim to him than he actually made. This could be called the rationalistic solution; while appreciating Christ’s ethical teachings, there's ease in downplaying his significant claims. Wellhausen’s Gospel commentaries and Introduction illustrate this well. (Mark is fairly historical; the other gospels provide a more detailed account of Christ’s teachings and claims, which are seen as unreliable.) (ii.) The claim was deceptive (Reimarus; Renan, ed. 1; popular anti-Christian movements). This perspective leads to despair. (iii.) He was an overly enthusiastic visionary, anticipating the world's end. This is what an apologist might view as the most believable opposing viewpoint. They might feel compelled to acknowledge an element of delusion in Christ’s vision of the future; however, they will argue that the apocalyptic framework didn’t negate the spiritual depth of Christ’s revelations—in fact, it was the medium for significant truths. They will contend that (iv.) the figure who has occupied Christ’s position in history and has earned such respect from the most virtuous individuals was indeed what he claimed to be, and that his multifaceted nature comes into focus and harmony when we identify him as the Christ of God and the Savior of the world.

To a less extent, similar problems and alternatives arise in regard to the church:—Catholicism a compromise between Jewish Christianity and Pauline or Gentile Christianity (F.C. Baur, &c.); Catholicism the Hellenizing of Christianity (A. Ritschl, A. Harnack); the Catholic church for good and evil the creation of St Paul (P. Wernle, H. Weinel); the church supernaturally guided (R.C. apologetic; in a modified degree High Church apologetic); essential—not necessarily exclusive—truth of Paulinism, essential error in first principles of Catholicism (Protestant apologetic).

To a lesser degree, similar issues and alternatives come up regarding the church: Catholicism is a compromise between Jewish Christianity and Pauline or Gentile Christianity (F.C. Baur, etc.); Catholicism represents the Hellenization of Christianity (A. Ritschl, A. Harnack); the Catholic church, both positively and negatively, is the creation of St. Paul (P. Wernle, H. Weinel); the church is supernaturally guided (Roman Catholic apologetics; to a modified extent, High Church apologetics); there is essential—not necessarily exclusive—truth in Paulinism, and a fundamental error in the basic principles of Catholicism (Protestant apologetics).

Literature.—Omitting the Christian fathers as remote from the present day, we recognize as works of genius Pascal’s Pensées and Butler’s Analogy, to which we might add J.R. Seeley’s Ecce Homo (1865). The philosophical, Platonist, or Idealist line of Christian defence is represented among recent writers by J.R. Illingworth [Anglican], in Personality, Human and Divine (1894), Divine Immanence (1898), Reason and Revelation (1902), who at times seems rather to presuppose the Thomist compromise, and A.M. Fairbairn [Congregationalist], in Place of Christ in Modern Theology (1893), Philosophy of the Christian Religion (1902). The appeal to ethical or Christian experience—“internal evidence”—is found especially in E.A. Abbott [Christianity supernatural and divine, but not miraculous], Through Nature to Christ (1877), The Kernel and the Husk (1886), The Spirit on the Waters (1897), &c., or A.B. Bruce, Chief End of Revelation (1881), The Miraculous Element in the Gospels (1886), Apologetics (1892), and other works; Bruce’s posthumous article, “Jesus” in Encyc. Bib., was understood by some as exchanging Christian orthodoxy for bare theism, but probably its tone of aloofness is due to the attempt to keep well within the limits of what the author considered pure scientific history. Scholarly and apologetic discussion on the gospels and life of Jesus is further represented by the writings of W. Sanday or (earlier) of J.B. Lightfoot. Much American work of merit on the character of Christ is headed by W. E Channing, and by H. Bushnell (in Nature and the Supernatural). For defence of Christ’s resurrection, reference may be made to H. Latham’s The Risen Lord and R. Mackintosh’s First Primer of Apologetics. For modification in light of recent scholarship of argument from prophecy, to Riehm’s Messianic Prophecy, Stanton’s Jewish and Christian Messiah, and Woods’s Hope of Israel. Roman Catholic apologetics—of necessity, Thomist—is well represented by Professor Schanz of Tübingen. The whole Ritschl movement is apologetic in spirit; best English account in A.E. Garvie’s Ritschlian Theology (1899). See also the chief church histories or histories of doctrine (Harnack; Loofs; Hagenbach; Shedd); A.S. Farrar’s Critical History of Free (i.e. anti-Christian) Thought (Bampton Lectures, 1862); R.C. Trench’s Introduction to Notes on the Miracles, and F.W. Macran’s English Apologetic Theology (1905). For the 18th century, G.V. Lechler’s Geschichte des englischen Deismus (1841); Mark Pattison in Essays and Reviews (1860); Leslie Stephen’s English Thought in 18th Century (agnostic); John Hunt, Religious Thought in England (3 vols., 1870-1873).

Literature.—Setting aside the Christian fathers as too distant from our time, we acknowledge Pascal’s Pensées and Butler’s Analogy as brilliant works, along with J.R. Seeley’s Ecce Homo (1865). The philosophical, Platonist, or Idealist approach to Christian defense is reflected in the recent writings of J.R. Illingworth [Anglican], in Personality, Human and Divine (1894), Divine Immanence (1898), Reason and Revelation (1902), who sometimes seems to assume the Thomist compromise, and A.M. Fairbairn [Congregationalist], in Place of Christ in Modern Theology (1893), Philosophy of the Christian Religion (1902). The appeal to ethical or Christian experience—often referred to as “internal evidence”—is notably found in E.A. Abbott [Christianity supernatural and divine, but not miraculous], Through Nature to Christ (1877), The Kernel and the Husk (1886), The Spirit on the Waters (1897), etc., or A.B. Bruce, Chief End of Revelation (1881), The Miraculous Element in the Gospels (1886), Apologetics (1892), among other works; Bruce’s posthumous article, “Jesus” in Encyc. Bib., was interpreted by some as trading Christian orthodoxy for sheer theism, but its detached tone might stem from an effort to stay strictly within what he viewed as pure scientific history. Scholarly and apologetic discussions on the gospels and the life of Jesus are further represented by the writings of W. Sanday or (earlier) J.B. Lightfoot. Significant American contributions on the character of Christ include W.E. Channing and H. Bushnell (in Nature and the Supernatural). For defending Christ’s resurrection, refer to H. Latham’s The Risen Lord and R. Mackintosh’s First Primer of Apologetics. For updates on the argument from prophecy based on recent scholarship, see Riehm’s Messianic Prophecy, Stanton’s Jewish and Christian Messiah, and Woods’s Hope of Israel. Roman Catholic apologetics—necessarily Thomist—is well represented by Professor Schanz of Tübingen. The entire Ritschl movement is apologetic in nature; the best English overview is A.E. Garvie’s Ritschlian Theology (1899). Also, consult key church histories or histories of doctrine (Harnack; Loofs; Hagenbach; Shedd); A.S. Farrar’s Critical History of Free (i.e. anti-Christian) Thought (Bampton Lectures, 1862); R.C. Trench’s Introduction to Notes on the Miracles, and F.W. Macran’s English Apologetic Theology (1905). For the 18th century, see G.V. Lechler’s Geschichte des englischen Deismus (1841); Mark Pattison in Essays and Reviews (1860); Leslie Stephen’s English Thought in 18th Century (agnostic); John Hunt, Religious Thought in England (3 vols., 1870-1873).

(R. Ma.)

1 While these writings are of great historical value, they do not, of course, represent the Christian argument as conceived to-day. The Church of Rome prefers medieval or modern statements of its position; Protestantism can use only modern statements.

1 While these writings hold significant historical value, they don't, of course, reflect the Christian argument as it's understood today. The Catholic Church prefers medieval or contemporary explanations of its stance; Protestantism can only rely on modern statements.


APOLOGUE (from the Gr. ἀπόλογος, a statement or account), a short fable or allegorical story, meant to serve as a pleasant vehicle for some moral doctrine or to convey some useful lesson. One of the best known is that of Jotham in the Book of Judges (ix. 7-15); others are “The City Rat and Field Rat,” by Horace, “The Belly and its Members,” by the patrician Menenius Agrippa in the second book of Livy, and perhaps most famous of all, those of Aesop. The term is applied more particularly to a story in which the actors or speakers are taken from the brute creation or inanimate nature. An apologue is distinguished from a fable in that there is always some moral sense present, which there need not be in a fable. It is generally dramatic, and has been defined as “a satire in action.” It differs from a parable in several respects. A parable is equally an ingenious tale intended to correct manners, but it can be true, while an apologue, with its introduction of animals and plants, to which it lends our ideas and language and emotions, is necessarily devoid of real truth, and even of all probability. The parable reaches heights to which the apologue cannot aspire, for the points in which brutes and inanimate nature present analogies to man are principally those of his lower nature, and the lessons taught by the apologue seldom therefore reach beyond prudential morality, whereas the parable aims at representing the relations between man and God. It finds its framework in the world of nature as it actually is, and not in any grotesque parody of it, and it exhibits real and not fanciful analogies. The apologue seizes on that which man has in common with creatures below him, and the parable on that which he has in common with God. Still, in spite of the difference of moral level, Martin Luther thought so highly of apologues as counsellors of virtue that he edited and revised Aesop and wrote a characteristic preface to the volume. The origin of the apologue is extremely ancient and comes from the East, which is the natural fatherland of everything connected with allegory, metaphor and imagination. Veiled truth was often necessary in the East, particularly with the slaves, who dared not reveal their minds too openly. It is noteworthy that the two fathers of apologue in the West were slaves, namely Aesop and Phaedrus. La Fontaine in France; Gay and Dodsley in England; Gellert, Lessing and Hagedorn in Germany; Tomas de Iriarte in Spain, and Krilov in Russia, are leading modern writers of apologues. Length is not an essential matter in the definition of an apologue. Those of La Fontaine are often very short, as, for example, “Le Coque et la Perle.” On the other hand, in the romances of Reynard the Fox we have medieval apologues arranged in cycles, and attaining epical dimensions. An Italian fabulist, Corti, is said to have developed an apologue of “The Talking Animals” to the bulk of twenty-six cantos. La Motte, writing at a time when this species of literature was universally admired, attributes its popularity to the fact that it ménage et flatte l’amour-propre by inculcating virtue in an amusing manner without seeming to dictate or insist. This was the ordinary 18th-century view of the matter, but Rousseau contested the educational value of instruction given in this indirect form.

APOLOGUE (from the Gr. defender, a statement or account), a short fable or allegorical story, designed to be an enjoyable way to convey a moral lesson or valuable insight. One of the most well-known is Jotham's tale in the Book of Judges (ix. 7-15); others include “The City Rat and Field Rat,” by Horace, “The Belly and its Members,” by the patrician Menenius Agrippa in the second book of Livy, and perhaps the most famous of all, those of Aesop. The term is specifically applied to stories featuring characters from the animal kingdom or inanimate objects. An apologue is different from a fable in that it always contains a moral message, which a fable does not necessarily have. It is generally dramatic and has been described as “a satire in action.” It differs from a parable in several ways. A parable is also a clever tale meant to correct behavior, but it can be true, whereas an apologue, with its introduction of animals and plants that it attributes human thoughts, language, and emotions, is inherently lacking in real truth and any probability. The parable can reach heights that the apologue cannot, as the points of comparison between animals and inanimate nature and humans are mainly reflections of our lower nature, so the lessons from an apologue generally reflect only practical morality, while the parable seeks to illustrate the relationship between humanity and God. The parable is based in the real world, not in some exaggerated caricature of it, and presents genuine rather than fanciful parallels. The apologue focuses on what humans share with lower creatures, while the parable focuses on what humans share with God. Nevertheless, despite the difference in moral depth, Martin Luther valued apologues highly as guides for virtue that he edited and updated Aesop's works and wrote a notable preface for the collection. The origin of the apologue is extremely ancient and comes from the East, which is the natural home of everything related to allegory, metaphor, and imagination. Veiled truths were often necessary in the East, especially for slaves, who could not speak their minds too freely. It’s interesting to note that the two founders of the apologue in the West were slaves, namely Aesop and Phaedrus. In France, La Fontaine; in England, Gay and Dodsley; in Germany, Gellert, Lessing, and Hagedorn; in Spain, Tomas de Iriarte; and in Russia, Krilov are prominent modern writers of apologues. Length is not a key factor in defining an apologue. La Fontaine’s works are often quite short, like “Le Coque et la Perle.” On the other hand, the tales of Reynard the Fox present medieval apologues arranged in cycles and reaching epic proportions. An Italian fabulist, Corti, is said to have created an apologue titled “The Talking Animals” that spans twenty-six cantos. La Motte, writing during a time when this type of literature was very popular, attributes its appeal to its ability to ménage et flatte l’amour-propre by teaching virtue in an entertaining way without appearing to preach or insist. This was the common perspective of the 18th century, but Rousseau challenged the educational effectiveness of teaching through this indirect method.

A work by P. Soullé, La Fontaine et ses devanciers (1866), is a history of the apologue from the earliest times until its final triumph in France.

A work by P. Soullé, La Fontaine et ses devanciers (1866), is a history of the fable from the earliest times until its ultimate success in France.


APOLOGY (from Gr. ἀπολογία, defence), in its usual sense, an expression of regret for something which has been wrongfully said or done; a withdrawal or retraction of some charge or imputation which is false. In an action for libel, the fact that an apology has been promptly and fully made is a plea in mitigation of damages. The apology should have the same form of publicity as the original charge. If made publicly, the proper form is an advertisement in a newspaper; if made within the hearing of a few only, a letter of apology, which may be read to those who have heard what was said, should be sufficient. By the English Libel Act 1843, s. 2, it was enacted that in an action for libel contained in a newspaper it is a defence for the defendant to plead that the libel was inserted without actual malice and without gross negligence, and that before the commencement of the action and at the earliest opportunity afterwards he inserted in the newspaper a full apology for the libel, or, where the newspaper in which the libel appeared was published at intervals exceeding one week, he offered to publish the apology in any newspaper selected by the plaintiff. The apology must be full and must be printed in as conspicuous a place and manner as the libel was.

APOLOGY (from Gr. apology, defense), usually refers to an expression of regret for something that was wrongly said or done; a retraction of a false accusation or claim. In a libel case, the fact that an apology has been made promptly and completely can help reduce damages. The apology should be as public as the original claim. If it’s made publicly, the proper form is to publish an advertisement in a newspaper; if made in front of only a few people, a written apology that can be read to those who heard the original statement should suffice. According to the English Libel Act of 1843, section 2, in a case of libel published in a newspaper, the defendant can defend themselves by stating that the libel was published without actual malice and without gross negligence, and that before the lawsuit began and as soon as possible thereafter, they published a full apology in the newspaper, or, if the newspaper published less frequently than once a week, offered to publish the apology in any newspaper chosen by the plaintiff. The apology must be complete and printed in as noticeable a place and manner as the libel was.

The word “apology” or “apologia” is also used in the sense of defence or vindication, the only meaning of the Greek ἀπολογία, especially of the defence of a doctrine or system, or of religious or other beliefs, &c., e.g. Justin Martyr’s Apology or J.H. Newman’s Apologia pro vita sua. (See Apologetics.)

The term “apology” or “apologia” is also used to mean defense or justification, which is the primary meaning of the Greek apology, particularly in relation to defending a doctrine or system, or religious or other beliefs, etc., e.g. Justin Martyr’s Apology or J.H. Newman’s Apologia pro vita sua. (See Apologetics.)


APONEUROSIS (ἀπο, away, and νεῦρον, a sinew), in anatomy, a membrane separating muscles from each other.

APONEUROSIS (ἀπο, away, and νεῦρον, a sinew), in anatomy, is a membrane that separates muscles from one another.


APOPHTHEGM (from the ἀπόφθεγμα), a short and pointed utterance. The usual spelling up to Johnson’s day was apothegm, which Webster and Worcester still prefer; it indicates the pronunciation—i.e. “apothem”—better than the other, which, however, is more usual in England and follows the derivation. Such sententious remarks as “Knowledge is Power” are apophthegms. They become “proverbs” by age and acceptance. Plutarch made a famous collection in his Apophthegmata Laconica.

APOPHTHEGM (from the saying), a brief and incisive statement. The common spelling until Johnson’s time was apothegm, which Webster and Worcester still prefer; it better reflects the pronunciation—i.e. “apothem”—than the other spelling, which is more common in England and aligns with its origin. Short, impactful statements like “Knowledge is Power” are apophthegms. They evolve into “proverbs” over time as they gain acceptance. Plutarch created a well-known collection in his Apophthegmata Laconica.


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APOPHYGE (Gr. ἀποφυγή, a flying off), in architecture, the lowest part of the shaft of an Ionic or Corinthian column, or the highest member of its base if the column be considered as a whole. The apophyge is the inverted cavetto or concave sweep, on the upper edge of which the diminishing shaft rests.

APOPHYGE (Gr. avoidance, a flying off), in architecture, is the bottom part of the shaft of an Ionic or Corinthian column, or the top part of its base when considering the column as a whole. The apophyge is the curved inward section, or concave sweep, on which the tapering shaft rests.


APOPHYLLITE, a mineral often classed with the zeolites, since it behaves like these when heated before the blowpipe and has the same mode of occurrence; it differs, however, from the zeolites proper in containing no aluminium. It is a hydrous potassium and calcium silicate, H7KCa4(SiO3)8 + 4½(H2O). A small amount of fluorine is often present, and it is one of the few minerals in which ammonium has been detected. The temperature at which the water is expelled is higher than is usually the case with zeolites; none is given off below 200°, and only about half at 250°; this is slowly reabsorbed again from moist air, and is therefore regarded as water of crystallization, the remainder being water of constitution. When heated before the blowpipe, the mineral exfoliates, owing to loss of water, and on this account was named apophyllite by R.J. Haüy in 1806, from the Greek ἀπο, from, and φύλλον, a leaf.

APOPHYLLITE, is a mineral often grouped with zeolites because it reacts like them when heated before a blowpipe and has a similar occurrence. However, it differs from true zeolites because it doesn't contain any aluminum. It's a hydrous silicate of potassium and calcium, with the formula H7KCa4(SiO3)8 + 4½(H2O). A small amount of fluorine is typically present, and it's one of the few minerals where ammonium has been found. The temperature at which water is released is higher than what is generally seen with zeolites; none is expelled below 200°, and only about half is released at 250°. This water can slowly be reabsorbed from humid air, so it's considered water of crystallization, while the rest is water of constitution. When heated before the blowpipe, the mineral flakes apart due to water loss, which is why R.J. Haüy named it apophyllite in 1806, derived from the Greek ἀπο, meaning from, and leaf, meaning a leaf.

Fig. 1. Fig. 2.

Apophyllite always occurs as distinct crystals, which belong to the tetragonal system. The form is either a square prism terminated by the basal planes (fig. 2), or an acute pyramid (fig. 1). A prominent feature of the mineral is its perfect basal cleavage, on which the lustre is markedly pearly, presenting, in white crystals, somewhat the appearance of the eye of a fish after boiling, hence the old name fish-eye-stone or ichthyophthalmite for the mineral. On other surfaces the lustre is vitreous. The crystals are usually transparent and colourless, sometimes with a greenish or rose-red tint. Opaque white crystals of cubic habit have been called albine; xylochlore is an olive-green variety. The hardness is 4½, and the specific gravity 2.35.

Apophyllite always appears as distinct crystals that belong to the tetragonal system. They can be shaped like a square prism topped with flat surfaces (fig. 2) or an acute pyramid (fig. 1). A key characteristic of this mineral is its perfect basal cleavage, which has a noticeably pearly luster, giving white crystals a look similar to a fish's eye after boiling. This is why it was historically named fish-eye-stone or ichthyophthalmite. On other surfaces, the luster is glassy. The crystals are typically transparent and colorless, occasionally having a greenish or rose-red hue. Opaque white crystals with a cubic shape are referred to as albine; the olive-green variety is named xylochlore. Its hardness is 4½, and the specific gravity is 2.35.

The optical characters of the mineral are of special interest, and have been much studied. The sign of the double refraction may be either positive or negative, and some crystals are divided into optically biaxial sectors. The variety known as leucocyclite shows, when examined in convergent polarized light, a peculiar interference figure, the rings being alternately white and violet-black and not coloured as in a normal figure seen in white light.

The optical properties of the mineral are quite fascinating and have been extensively studied. The double refraction can be either positive or negative, and some crystals are split into optically biaxial sections. The variety called leucocyclite, when viewed under convergent polarized light, displays a unique interference pattern, with the rings alternating between white and violet-black, rather than showing colors like what you'd see in a regular figure under white light.

Apophyllite is a mineral of secondary origin, commonly occurring, in association with other zeolites, in amygdaloidal cavities in basalt and melaphyre. Magnificent groups of greenish and colourless tabular crystals, the crystals several inches across, were found, with flesh-red stilbite, in the Deccan traps of the Western Gháts, near Bombay, during the construction of the Great Indian Peninsular railway. Groups of crystals of a beautiful pink colour have been found in the silver veins of Andreasberg in the Harz and of Guanaxuato in Mexico. Crystals of recent formation have been detected in the Roman remains at the hot springs of Plombières in France.

Apophyllite is a mineral that forms secondarily and is usually found alongside other zeolites in amygdaloidal cavities within basalt and melaphyre. Stunning clusters of greenish and colorless tabular crystals, some several inches wide, were discovered with flesh-red stilbite in the Deccan traps of the Western Ghats near Bombay during the construction of the Great Indian Peninsular railway. Beautiful pink crystal clusters have been found in the silver veins of Andreasberg in the Harz and Guanajuato in Mexico. Recently formed crystals have been identified in Roman ruins at the hot springs of Plombières in France.

(L. J. S.)

APOPHYSIS (Gr. ἀπόφυσις, offshoot), a bony protuberance, in human physiology; also a botanical term for the swelling of the spore-case in certain mosses.

APOPHYSIS (Gr. ἀπόφυσις, offshoot), a bony bump, in human anatomy; also a botanical term for the swelling of the spore case in some mosses.


APOPLEXY (Gr. ἀποπληξία, from ἀποπλήσσειν, to strike down, to stun), the term employed by Galen to designate the “sudden loss of feeling and movement of the whole body, with the exception of respiration,” to which, after the time of Harvey, was added “and with the exception of the circulation.” Although the term is occasionally employed in medicine with other significations, yet in its general acceptation apoplexy may be defined as a sudden loss of consciousness, of sensibility, and of movement without any essential modification of the respiratory and circulatory functions occasioned by some brain disease. It was discovered that the majority of the cases of apoplexy were due to cerebral haemorrhage, and what looked like cerebral haemorrhage, red softening; and the idea for a long time prevailed that apoplexy and cerebral haemorrhage could be employed as synonymous terms, and that an individual who, in popular parlance, “had an apoplectic stroke,” had necessarily suffered from haemorrhage into his brain. A small haemorrhage may not, however, cause an apoplectic fit, nor is an apoplectic fit always caused by haemorrhage; it may be due to sudden blocking of a large vessel by a clot from a distant part (embolism), or by a sudden clotting of the blood in the vessel itself (thrombosis). Owing to the prevailing idea in former times that cerebral haemorrhage and apoplexy were synonymous terms, the word apoplexy was applied to haemorrhage into other organs than the brain; thus the terms pulmonary apoplexy, retinal apoplexy and splenic apoplexy were used.

APOPLEXY (Gr. stroke, from ἀποπλήσσειν, to strike down, to stun), is the term Galen used to describe the “sudden loss of feeling and movement of the entire body, except for breathing,” to which, after Harvey's time, was added “and excluding circulation.” While the term is sometimes used in medicine with other meanings, in general, apoplexy can be defined as a sudden loss of consciousness, sensation, and movement without any essential changes to breathing and circulation caused by some brain disease. It was found that most cases of apoplexy were due to cerebral hemorrhage, and what resembled cerebral hemorrhage, known as red softening; for a long time, it was believed that apoplexy and cerebral hemorrhage were synonymous, and that a person who, in everyday language, “had an apoplectic stroke” had definitely experienced a hemorrhage in their brain. However, a small hemorrhage may not cause an apoplectic fit, nor is an apoplectic fit always triggered by hemorrhage; it can occur from a sudden blockage of a large vessel by a clot from another area (embolism) or by a sudden clot forming in the vessel itself (thrombosis). Due to the past belief that cerebral hemorrhage and apoplexy were the same, the term apoplexy was also used for hemorrhages in other organs besides the brain; thus, terms like pulmonary apoplexy, retinal apoplexy, and splenic apoplexy were created.

The term “apoplexy” is now used in clinical medicine to denote that form of coma or deep state of unconsciousness which is due to sudden disturbance of the cerebral circulation occasioned by a local cause within the cranial cavity, as distinct from the loss of consciousness due to sudden failure of the heart’s action (syncope) or the coma of narcotic or alcoholic poisoning, of status epilepticus, of uraemia or of head injury.

The term “apoplexy” is currently used in clinical medicine to refer to a type of coma or deep unconsciousness caused by a sudden disruption of blood flow in the brain, which is due to a local issue within the skull. This is different from losing consciousness because of sudden heart failure (syncope) or from coma caused by narcotics or alcohol, severe seizures (status epilepticus), kidney failure (uraemia), or head injuries.

The sudden coma of sunstroke and heat-stroke might be included, although owing to the suddenness with which a person may be struck down, the term heat apoplexy is frequently used, and, from an etymological point of view, quite justifiably. The older writers use the term simple apoplexy for a sudden attack which could not be explained by any visible disease. Again, congestive apoplexy was applied to those cases of coma where, at the autopsy, nothing was found to account for the coma and death except engorgement of the vessels of the brain and its membranes. In senile dementia and in general paralysis the brain is shrunken and the convolutions atrophied, the increased space in the ventricles and between the convolutions being filled up with the cerebro-spinal fluid. In these diseases apoplectic states may arise, terminating fatally; the excess of fluid found in such cases was formerly thought to be the cause of the symptoms, consequently the condition was called serous apoplexy. Such terms are no longer used, owing to the better knowledge of the pathology of brain disease.

The sudden onset of sunstroke and heatstroke might be considered, although because of how quickly someone can be affected, the term heat apoplexy is often used and is quite justified from an etymological standpoint. Older writers referred to simple apoplexy for a sudden event that couldn’t be explained by any visible illness. Additionally, congestive apoplexy was used for cases of coma where, upon autopsy, nothing was discovered to explain the coma and death except for the engorgement of the blood vessels in the brain and its membranes. In senile dementia and general paralysis, the brain shrinks and the folds become atrophied, with the increased spaces in the ventricles and between the folds being filled with cerebrospinal fluid. In these conditions, apoplectic states can occur, often resulting in death; the excess fluid found in such instances was previously thought to be the cause of the symptoms, leading to the term serous apoplexy. Such terms are no longer used due to a better understanding of the pathology of brain diseases.

Having thus narrowed down the application of the term “apoplexy,” we are in a position to consider its chief features, and the mechanism by which it is produced. Apoplexy may be rapidly fatal, but it is very seldom instantly fatal. The onset is usually sudden, and sometimes the individual may be struck down in an instant, senseless and motionless, “warranting those epithets, which the ancients applied to the victims of this disease, of attoniti and siderati, as if they were thunder-stricken or planet-struck” (Sir Thomas Watson). The attack, however, may be less sudden and, not infrequently, attended by a convulsion; while occasionally, in the condition termed ingravescent apoplexy, the coma is gradual in its onset, occupying hours in its development. Although unexpected, various warning symptoms, sometimes slight, sometimes pronounced, occur in the majority of cases. Such are, fulness in the head, headache, giddiness, noises in the ears, mental confusion, slight lapses of consciousness, numbness or tingling in the limbs. A characteristic apoplectic attack presents the following phenomena: the individual falls down suddenly and lies without sense or motion, except that his pulse keeps beating and his breathing continues. He appears to be in a deep sleep, from which he cannot be roused; the breathing is laboured and stertorous, and is accompanied with puffing out of the cheeks; the pulse may be beating more strongly than natural, and the face is often flushed and turgid. The reflexes are abolished. Although apoplexy may occur without paralysis, and paralysis without apoplexy, the two, owning the same cause, very frequently co-exist, or happen in immediate sequence and connexion; consequently there is in most cases definite evidence of paralysis affecting usually one side of the body in addition to the coma. Thus the pupils are unequal; there may be asymmetry of the face, or the limbs may be more rigid or flaccid on one side than on the other. These signs of localized disease enable a distinction to be made from the coma 196 of narcotic poisoning and alcoholic intoxication. It must be borne in mind that a person smelling strongly of liquor and found lying in the street in a comatose state may be suffering from apoplexy, and the error of sending a dying man to a police cell may be avoided by this knowledge.

Having narrowed down the use of the term "apoplexy," we can now look at its main features and the mechanism behind it. Apoplexy can quickly be fatal, but it is rarely instantly fatal. The onset is usually sudden, and at times a person may be struck down in an instant, senseless and motionless, "justifying the terms used by the ancients to describe the victims of this ailment, like attoniti and siderati, as if they were struck by thunder or a planet" (Sir Thomas Watson). However, the attack might be less sudden and often involves a convulsion; sometimes, in a condition called ingravescent apoplexy, the coma develops gradually over hours. Although unexpected, various warning signs, sometimes mild and sometimes severe, appear in most cases. These include a feeling of fullness in the head, headaches, dizziness, ringing in the ears, confusion, brief lapses in consciousness, and numbness or tingling in the limbs. A typical apoplectic attack shows the following signs: the person suddenly collapses and lies still and unresponsive, except for their heart beating and breathing continuing. They appear to be in a deep sleep that they cannot be woken from; their breathing is labored and noisy, often with puffed-out cheeks; the pulse might be stronger than usual, and the face is often red and swollen. The reflexes are absent. While apoplexy can happen without paralysis, and paralysis can occur without apoplexy, the two often occur together or one follows the other due to the same underlying cause. Thus, there is usually clear evidence of paralysis affecting one side of the body along with the coma. The pupils may be unequal; there could be asymmetry in the face, or one side of the limbs might be more rigid or flaccid than the other. These signs of localized disease help distinguish it from the coma seen in narcotic poisoning and alcohol intoxication. It’s important to remember that a person who smells strongly of alcohol and is found lying in a comatose state may actually be suffering from apoplexy, so we can avoid the mistake of sending a dying person to a police station by recognizing this.

If the fit is only moderately severe, the reflexes soon return, and the patient may in a few hours show indications of returning consciousness by making some movements or opening his eyes when spoken to, although later it may be found that he is unable to speak, or may be paralysed or mentally afflicted (see Paralysis). In severe cases the coma deepens and the patient dies, usually from interference with the breathing, or, less commonly, from arrest of the heart’s action.

If the condition is only moderately severe, the reflexes quickly come back, and the patient might show signs of waking up in a few hours by making some movements or opening their eyes when spoken to. However, later on, it might be discovered that they are unable to speak, or may be paralyzed or have mental issues (see Paralysis). In severe cases, the coma worsens and the patient dies, generally due to breathing complications, or, less often, from a heart failure.

The mechanism by which apoplexy is produced has been a matter of much dispute; the condition was formerly ascribed to the pressure exerted by the clot on the rest of the brain, but there is no increase of intracranial pressure in an apoplectic fit occurring as a result of the sudden closure of a large vessel by embolism or thrombosis. Suddenness of the lesion appears to be, then, the essential element common to all cases of apoplexy from organic brain disease. It is the sudden shock to the delicate mechanism that produces the unconsciousness; but seeing that the coma is usually deeper and more prolonged in cerebral haemorrhage than when occasioned by vascular occlusion, and that an ingravescent apoplexy coma gradually develops and deepens as the amount of haemorrhage increases, we may presume that increase of intracranial pressure does play an important part in the degree and intensity of the coma caused by the rupture of a vessel. Apoplexy seldom occurs under forty years of age, but owing to the fact that disease of the cerebral vessels may exist at any age, from causes which are fully explained in the article Neuropathology, no period of life is exempt; consequently cases of true apoplexy are not wanting even in very young children. Recognizing that there are two causes of apoplexy in advanced life, viz. (1) sudden rupture of a diseased vessel usually associated with high arterial pressure, enlarged, powerfully acting heart and chronic renal disease, and (2) the sudden clotting of blood in a large diseased vessel favoured by a low arterial pressure due to a weak-acting heart, it is obvious that the character of the pulse forms a good guide to the diagnosis of the cause, the prevention and warding off of an attack, and the treatment of such should it occur.

The way apoplexy happens has been widely debated; it was once thought to be caused by the pressure from a clot on the brain, but there isn’t an increase in intracranial pressure during an apoplectic event resulting from the sudden blockage of a large vessel due to embolism or thrombosis. The sudden occurrence of the injury seems to be the key factor shared by all cases of apoplexy related to organic brain disease. This sudden shock to the fragile system leads to unconsciousness; however, since the coma is usually deeper and lasts longer in cases of cerebral hemorrhage than when caused by a blocked vessel, and given that a progressive apoplexy coma develops and intensifies as the bleeding increases, it’s reasonable to believe that an increase in intracranial pressure plays a significant role in the severity and duration of coma caused by vessel rupture. Apoplexy rarely happens in people under forty, but because diseases affecting the brain's blood vessels can occur at any age for reasons detailed in the article Neuropathology, no age group is completely safe; thus, true cases of apoplexy can also be found in very young children. Understanding that there are two main causes of apoplexy in older adults: (1) the sudden rupture of a diseased vessel often linked to high blood pressure, an enlarged, forceful heart, and chronic kidney disease, and (2) the sudden clotting of blood in a large diseased vessel, favored by low blood pressure from a weak heart, it becomes clear that the condition of the pulse is a useful indicator for diagnosing the cause, preventing an attack, and determining treatment if one occurs.

Anything which tends directly or indirectly to increase arterial pressure within the cerebral blood-vessels may bring on an attack of cerebral haemorrhage; and although the identification of an apoplectic habit of body with a stout build, a short neck and florid complexion is now generally discredited, it being admitted that apoplexy occurs as frequently in thin and spare persons who present no such peculiarity of conformation, yet a plethoric habit of body, occasioned by immoderate eating or drinking associated with the gouty diathesis, leads to a general arterio-sclerosis and high arterial pressure. All conditions which can give rise to a local intracranial or a general bodily increase of the arterial pressure, i.e. severe exertion of body and mind, violent emotions, much stooping, overheated rooms, exposure to the sun, sudden shocks to the body, constipation and straining at stool, may, by suddenly increasing the strain on the wall of a diseased vessel, lead to its rupture.

Anything that directly or indirectly increases blood pressure in the brain's blood vessels can trigger a stroke. While the idea that people with a stocky build, short neck, and rosy complexion are more prone to strokes is largely dismissed now, it’s recognized that strokes can also happen to thin and slender individuals without these features. However, a body type that’s overly full, caused by excessive eating or drinking related to gout, can result in general hardening of the arteries and high blood pressure. Conditions that can raise local intracranial or overall body blood pressure—like intense physical or mental activity, strong emotions, bending over a lot, heated rooms, sun exposure, sudden physical shocks, constipation, and straining during bowel movements—can suddenly increase the pressure on a weakened vessel wall, leading to its rupture.

The outlook of apoplexy is generally unfavourable in cases where the coma is profound; death may take place at different intervals after the onset. If the patient, after recovering from the initial coma, suffers with continual headache and lapses into a drowsy state, the result is likely to be serious; for such a condition probably indicates that an inflammatory change has taken place about the clot or in the area of softening.

The outlook for a stroke is usually not good when the coma is deep; death can occur at various times after it starts. If the patient, after waking up from the initial coma, has ongoing headaches and falls into a sleepy state, the outcome is likely to be severe; this situation probably means that an inflammatory change has occurred around the clot or in the area of damage.

Treatment.—The patient should be placed in the recumbent position with the head and shoulders slightly raised. He should be moved as little as possible from the place where the attack occurred. The medical man who is summoned will probably give the following directions: an ice-bag to be applied to the head; a few grains of calomel or a drop of croton oil in butter to be placed on the tongue, or an enema of castor oil to be administered. He may find it necessary to draw off the water with a catheter. The practice of blood-letting, once so common in this disease, is seldom resorted to, although in some cases, where there is very high arterial tension and a general state of plethora, it might be beneficial. Depletives are not employed where there is evidence of failure of the heart’s action; indeed the cautious administration of stimulants may be necessary, either subcutaneously or by the mouth (if there exist a power of swallowing), together with warm applications to the surface of the body; a water-bed may be required, and careful nursing, is essential to prevent complications, especially the formation of bedsores.

Treatment.—The patient should lie down with their head and shoulders slightly elevated. They should be moved as little as possible from where the attack happened. The doctor who is called will likely give the following instructions: apply an ice pack to the head; place a few grains of calomel or a drop of croton oil mixed with butter on the tongue, or administer a castor oil enema. He may need to use a catheter to drain fluid. The practice of bloodletting, once common for this condition, is rarely done now, although in some cases with very high blood pressure and an overall excess of blood, it might help. Depletives are not used when there are signs of heart failure; in fact, careful use of stimulants may be necessary, either through injection or orally (if the patient can swallow), along with warm applications to the body surface. A water bed may be needed, and attentive nursing is crucial to prevent complications, especially bedsores.

(F. W. Mo.)

APOROSE (from Gr. , without, and πόρος, passage), a biological term meaning imperforate, or not porous: there is a group of corals called Aporosa.

APOROSE (from Gr. , without, and resource, passage), a biological term meaning imperforate, or not porous: there is a group of corals called Aporosa.


APOSIOPESIS (the Greek for “becoming silent”), a rhetorical device by which the speaker or writer stops short and leaves something unexpressed, but yet obvious, to be supplied by the imagination. The classical example is the threat, “Quos ego——!” of Neptune (in Virgil, Aen. i. 135).

APOSIOPESIS (the Greek term for “going silent”), is a rhetorical device where the speaker or writer abruptly stops and leaves something unsaid, which is still clear enough for the audience to fill in using their imagination. A classic example of this is the threat, “Quos ego——!” from Neptune (in Virgil, Aen. i. 135).


APOSTASY (ἀπόστασις, in classical Greek a defection or revolt from a military commander), a term generally employed to describe a complete renunciation of the Christian faith, or even an exchange of one form of it for another, especially if the motive be unworthy. In the first centuries of the Christian era, apostasy was most commonly induced by persecution, and was indicated by some outward act, such as offering incense to a heathen deity or blaspheming the name of Christ.1 In the Roman Catholic Church the word is also applied to the renunciation of monastic vows (apostasis a monachatu), and to the abandonment of the clerical profession for the life of the world (apostasis a clericatu). Such defection was formerly often punished severely.

APOSTASY (separation, in classical Greek a departure or revolt from a military leader), is a term commonly used to describe a complete rejection of the Christian faith, or even a switch from one form of it to another, especially if the reason is not honorable. In the early centuries of the Christian era, apostasy was often prompted by persecution and was shown through some outward action, like offering incense to a pagan god or speaking disrespectfully about the name of Christ.1 In the Roman Catholic Church, the term is also used to refer to the renunciation of monastic vows (apostasis a monachatu), and to the rejection of the clerical lifestyle for secular life (apostasis a clericatu). Such defection was often punished harshly in the past.


1 The readmission of such apostates to the church was a matter that occasioned serious controversy. The emperor Julian’s “Apostasy” is discussed under Julian.

1 The readmission of these renounced members to the church sparked significant debate. The emperor Julian’s “Apostasy” is addressed under Julian.


APOSTIL, or Apostille (possibly connected with Lat. appositum, placed near), a marginal note made by a commentator.

APOSTIL, or Apostille (possibly related to Lat. appositum, meaning placed near), a side note made by a commentator.


APOSTLE (ἀπόστολος, one sent forth on a mission, an envoy, as in Is. xviii. 2; Symmachus, ἀποστέλλειν ἀποστόλους; Aquila, πρεσβευτάς), a technical term used in the New Testament and in Christian literature generally for a special envoy of Jesus Christ. How far it had any similar use in Judaism in Christ’s day is uncertain; but in the 4th century A.D., at any rate, it denoted responsible envoys from the central Jewish authority, especially for the collection of religious funds. In its first and simplest Christian form, the idea is present already in Mark iii. 14 f., where from the general circle of his disciples Jesus “made twelve (‘whom he also named apostles,’ Luke vi. 13, but doubtful in Mark), that they should be with him, and that he might from time to time send them forth (ἵνα ἀποστέλλῃ) to preach and to have authority to cast out demons.” Later on (vi. 6 ff.), in connexion with systematic preaching among the villages of Galilee, Jesus begins actually to “send forth” the twelve, two by two; and on their return from this mission (vi. 30) they are for the first time described as “apostles” or missionary envoys. Matthew (x. 1 ff.) blends the calling of the twelve with their actual sending forth, while Luke (vi. 13) makes Jesus himself call them “apostles” (for Luke’s usage cf. xi. 49, “prophets and apostles,” where Matthew, xxiii. 34, has “prophets and wise men and scribes”). But it is doubtful whether Jesus ever used the term for the Twelve, in relation to their temporary missions, any more than for the “seventy others” whom he “sent forth” later (Luke x. 1). Even the Fourth Gospel never so describes them. It simply has “a servant is not greater than his lord, neither an apostle (envoy) greater than he that sent him” (xiii. 16); and applies the idea of “mission” alike to Jesus (cf. Heb. iii. 1, “Jesus, the apostle ... of our profession”) and to his disciples, generally, as represented by the Twelve (xvii. 18, with 3, 6 ff.). But while ideally all Christ’s disciples were “sent” with the Father’s Name in charge, there were different degrees in which this 197 applied in practice; and so we find “apostle” used in several senses, once it emerges as a technical term.

APOSTLE (apostle, someone sent out on a mission, an envoy, as in Is. xviii. 2; Symmachus, send apostles; Aquila, ambassadors), is a technical term used in the New Testament and in Christian literature to refer to a special envoy of Jesus Christ. It's unclear how much this term was used in Judaism during Christ's time, but by the 4th century A.D., it certainly referred to responsible envoys from the central Jewish authority, especially for collecting religious funds. In its earliest and simplest Christian form, the concept is already present in Mark iii. 14 f., where Jesus chose twelve from his wider group of disciples (“whom he also named apostles,” Luke vi. 13, though this is debated in Mark), so they could be with him and periodically send them out (send out) to preach and have the authority to cast out demons. Later on (vi. 6 ff.), in connection with systematic preaching in the villages of Galilee, Jesus actively begins to “send out” the twelve, two by two; and when they return from this mission (vi. 30), they are for the first time called “apostles” or missionary envoys. Matthew (x. 1 ff.) combines the calling of the twelve with their actual sending out, while Luke (vi. 13) notes that Jesus himself calls them “apostles” (for Luke’s usage see also xi. 49, “prophets and apostles,” where Matthew, xxiii. 34, has “prophets and wise men and scribes”). However, it’s questionable whether Jesus ever used the term for the Twelve regarding their temporary missions, just as for the “seventy others” he later “sent out” (Luke x. 1). Even the Fourth Gospel does not describe them that way. It states simply, “a servant is not greater than his lord, nor is an apostle (envoy) greater than the one who sent him” (xiii. 16); and it applies the concept of “mission” to both Jesus (cf. Heb. iii. 1, “Jesus, the apostle ... of our profession”) and to his disciples more broadly, represented by the Twelve (xvii. 18, with 3, 6 ff.). While ideally all of Christ’s disciples were “sent” with the Father’s Name in charge, there were varying levels of how this played out in practice, leading to “apostle” being used in several different ways once it became a technical term. 197

1. In the Apostolic age itself, “apostle” often denotes simply an “envoy,” commissioned by Jesus Christ to be a primary witness and preacher of the Messianic Kingdom. This wide sense was shown by Lightfoot (in his commentary on Galatians, 1865) to exist in the New Testament, e.g. in 1 Cor. xii. 28 f., Eph. iv. ii, Rom. xvi. 7; and his view has since been emphasized1 by the discovery of the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles (see Didache), with its itinerant order of “apostles,” who, together with “prophets” (cf. Eph. ii. 20, iii. 5) and “teachers,” constituted a charismatic and seemingly unordained ministry of the Word, in some part of the Church (in Syria?) during the early sub-apostolic age. Paul is our earliest witness, as just cited; also in 1 Cor. xv. 5 ff., where he seems to quote the language of Palestinian tradition, in saying that Christ “appeared to Cephas; then to the Twelve; then ... to James; then to the apostles one and all (τοῖς ἀποστόλοις πᾶσιν); and last of all ... to me also.” The appearance to “all the Apostles” must refer to the final commission given by the risen Christ to certain assembled disciples (Acts i. 6 ff., cf. Luke xxiv. 33), including not only the Twelve and the Lord’s brethren (i. 13 f.), but also some at least of the Seventy. Of this wider circle of witnesses, taken from among personal disciples during Jesus’s earthly ministry, we get a further glimpse in the election of one from their number to fill Judas’s place among the Twelve (i. 21 ff.), as the primary official witnesses of Messiah and his resurrection. Many of the 120 then present (Acts i. 15), and not only the two set forward for final choice, must have been personal disciples, who by the recent commission had been made “apostles.” Among such we may perhaps name Judas Barsabbas and Silas (Acts xv. 22, cf. i. 23), if not also Barnabas (1 Cor. ix. 6) and Andronicus and Junia (Rom. xvi. 7).

1. In the Apostolic age, "apostle" often simply meant an "envoy," assigned by Jesus Christ to be a key witness and preacher of the Messianic Kingdom. This broader interpretation was demonstrated by Lightfoot (in his commentary on Galatians, 1865) to be present in the New Testament, e.g. in 1 Cor. xii. 28 f., Eph. iv. ii, Rom. xvi. 7; and his perspective has since been emphasized 1 by the discovery of the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles (see Didache), with its traveling order of “apostles,” who, along with “prophets” (cf. Eph. ii. 20, iii. 5) and “teachers,” formed a charismatic and seemingly unordained ministry of the Word in part of the Church (possibly in Syria?) during the early sub-apostolic age. Paul is our earliest witness, as mentioned; also in 1 Cor. xv. 5 ff., where he appears to quote Palestinian tradition when he says that Christ “appeared to Cephas; then to the Twelve; then ... to James; then to all the apostles (to all the apostles); and last of all ... to me also.” The appearance to “all the Apostles” must refer to the final commission given by the risen Christ to certain gathered disciples (Acts i. 6 ff., cf. Luke xxiv. 33), which included not just the Twelve and the Lord’s brethren (i. 13 f.), but also at least some of the Seventy. Of this broader group of witnesses, selected from personal disciples during Jesus’s earthly ministry, we get additional insight in the choice of one from their ranks to replace Judas among the Twelve (i. 21 ff.), serving as the primary official witnesses of the Messiah and his resurrection. Many of the 120 present (Acts i. 15), not only the two put forward for final selection, must have been personal disciples who had recently been made “apostles.” Among them we might name Judas Barsabbas and Silas (Acts xv. 22, cf. i. 23), if not also Barnabas (1 Cor. ix. 6) and Andronicus and Junia (Rom. xvi. 7).

So far, then, we gather that the original Palestinian type of apostleship meant simply (a) personal mission from the risen Christ (cf. I Cor. ix. i), following on (b) some preliminary intercourse with Jesus in his earthly ministry. It was pre-eminence in the latter qualification that gave the Twelve their special status among apostles (Acts i. 26, ii. 14, vi. 2; in Acts generally they are simply “the apostles”). Conversely, it was Paul’s lack in this respect which lay at the root of his difficulties as an apostle.

So far, we've concluded that the original Palestinian concept of apostleship meant simply (a) a personal mission from the risen Christ (see I Cor. ix. 1), following (b) some initial interactions with Jesus during his earthly ministry. It was the prominence in the latter qualification that gave the Twelve their unique status among apostles (Acts i. 26, ii. 14, vi. 2; in Acts, they are generally referred to as “the apostles”). On the other hand, it was Paul’s deficiency in this area that contributed to his challenges as an apostle.

It is possible, though not certain, that even those Judaizing missionaries at Corinth whom Paul styles “false-apostles” or, ironically, “the superlative apostles” (2 Cor. xi. 5, 13; xii. 11), rested part of their claim to superiority over Paul on (b), possibly even as having done service to Christ when on earth (2 Cor. xi. 18, 23). There is no sign in 2 Cor. that they laid claim to (a). If this be so, they were “Christ’s apostles” only indirectly, “through men” (as some had alleged touching Paul, cf. Gal. i. 1), i.e. as sent forth on mission work by certain Jerusalem leaders with letters of introduction (2 Cor. iii. 1; E. von Dobschutz, Problems der apost. Zeitalters, p. 106).

It’s possible, though not certain, that the Judaizing missionaries in Corinth, whom Paul refers to as “false apostles” or, ironically, “the superlative apostles” (2 Cor. xi. 5, 13; xii. 11), based part of their claim to superiority over Paul on (b), possibly even claiming to have served Christ when He was on earth (2 Cor. xi. 18, 23). There’s no indication in 2 Cor. that they claimed (a). If that’s the case, they were “Christ’s apostles” only indirectly, “through men” (as some alleged regarding Paul, cf. Gal. i. 1), i.e. sent on mission work by certain leaders in Jerusalem with letters of introduction (2 Cor. iii. 1; E. von Dobschutz, Problems der apost. Zeitalters, p. 106).

2. The Twelve.—When Jesus selected an inner circle of disciples for continuous training by personal intercourse, his choice of “twelve” had direct reference to the tribes of Israel (Matt. xix. 28; Luke xxii. 30). This gave them a symbolic or representative character as a closed body (cf. Rev. xxi. 14), marking them off as the primary religious authority (cf. Acts ii. 42, “the apostles’ teaching”) among the “disciples” or “brethren,” when these began to assume the form of a community or church. The relationship which other “apostles” had enjoyed with the Master had been uncertain; they had been his recognized intimates, and that as a body. Naturally, then, they took the lead, collectively—in form at least, though really the initiative lay with one or two of their own number, Peter in particular. The process of practical differentiation from their fellow apostles was furthered by the concentration of the Twelve, or at least of its most marked representatives, in Jerusalem, for a considerable period (Acts viii. 1, cf. xii. 1 ff.; an early tradition specifies twelve years). Other apostles soon went forth on their mission to “the cities of Israel” (cf. Acts ix. 31), and so exercised but little influence on the central policy of the Church. Hence their shadowy existence in the New Testament, though the actual wording of Matt. x. 5-42, read in the light of the Didachi, may help us to conceive their work in its main features.

2. The Twelve.—When Jesus chose a core group of disciples for ongoing training through personal interaction, his selection of "twelve" was directly linked to the tribes of Israel (Matt. xix. 28; Luke xxii. 30). This gave them a symbolic or representative role as a closed group (cf. Rev. xxi. 14), distinguishing them as the primary religious authority (cf. Acts ii. 42, “the apostles’ teaching”) among the “disciples” or “brethren,” as these began to form a community or church. The relationship that other “apostles” had with the Master was unclear; they were acknowledged as his close companions, and as a group. Naturally, they led collectively—in form, at least, though the real initiative came from one or two among them, especially Peter. The process of separating themselves from their fellow apostles was enhanced by the gathering of the Twelve, or at least its most prominent members, in Jerusalem for a significant time (Acts viii. 1, cf. xii. 1 ff.; an early tradition specifies twelve years). Other apostles quickly set out on their missions to “the cities of Israel” (cf. Acts ix. 31), and thus had little influence on the central direction of the Church. This explains their vague presence in the New Testament, although the actual text of Matt. x. 5-42, when viewed alongside the Didachi, may help us understand their work in its key aspects.

3. “PillarApostles.—But in fact differentiation between apostles existed among the Twelve also. There were “pillars,” like Peter and John (and his brother James until his death), who really determined matters of grave moment, as in the conference with Paul in Gal. ii. 9—a conference which laid the basis of the latter’s status as an apostle even in the eyes of Jewish Christians. Such pre-eminence was but the sequel of personal distinctions visible even in the preparatory days of discipleship, and it warns us against viewing the primitive facts touching apostles in the official light of later times.

3. “PillarApostles.—Actually, there was a difference among the Twelve apostles as well. There were “pillars,” like Peter and John (and his brother James until he died), who really had an influence on important issues, like the meeting with Paul in Gal. ii. 9—a meeting that established Paul’s status as an apostle even among Jewish Christians. This kind of prominence was just a continuation of personal distinctions that were clear even during their early days of discipleship, and it reminds us to avoid interpreting the early realities concerning apostles through the lens of later official perspectives.

Consciousness of such personal pre-eminence has left its marks on the lists of the Twelve in the New Testament. Thus (1) Peter, James, John, Andrew, always appear as the first four, though the order varies, Mark representing relative prominence during Christ’s ministry, and Acts actual influence in the Apostolic Church (cf. Luke viii. 51, ix. 28). (2) The others also stand in groups of four, the first name in each being constant, while the order of the rest varies.

Consciousness of such personal importance has influenced the lists of the Twelve in the New Testament. Thus (1) Peter, James, John, and Andrew usually appear as the first four, although the order changes, with Mark reflecting relative importance during Christ’s ministry, and Acts showing actual influence in the Apostolic Church (cf. Luke viii. 51, ix. 28). (2) The other names are also grouped in fours, with the first name in each group remaining the same, while the order of the rest varies.

The same lesson emerges when we note that one such apostolic “pillar” stood outside the Twelve altogether, viz. James, the Lord’s brother (Gal. ii. 9, cf. i. 19); and further, that “the Lord’s brethren” seem to have ranked above “apostles” generally, being named between them and Peter in 1 Cor. ix. 5. That is, they too were apostles with the addition of a certain personal distinction.

The same lesson becomes clear when we observe that one of these apostolic "pillars" was entirely outside the Twelve, specifically James, the Lord's brother (Gal. ii. 9, cf. i. 19); and additionally, that "the Lord's brethren" appear to have held a higher status than "apostles" in general, as they are mentioned between them and Peter in 1 Cor. ix. 5. In other words, they were also apostles, but with a particular personal distinction.

4. Paul, theApostle of the Gentiles.”—So far apostles are only of the Palestinian type, taken from among actual hearers of the Messiah and with a mission primarily to Jews—apostles “of the circumcision” (Gal. ii. 7-9). Now, however, emerges a new apostleship, that to the Gentiles; and with the change of mission goes also some change in the type of missionary or apostle. Of this type Paul was the first, and he remained its primary, and in some senses its only, example. Though he could claim, on occasion, to satisfy the old test of having seen the risen Lord (1 Cor. ix. 1, cf. xv. 8), he himself laid stress not on this, but on the revelation within his own soul of Jesus as God’s Son, and of the Gospel latent therein (Gal. i. 16). This was his divine call as “apostle of the Gentiles” (Rom. xi. 13); here lay both his qualification and his credentials, once the fruits of the divine inworking were manifest in the success of his missionary work (Gal. ii. 8 f.; 1 Cor. xi. 1 f.; 2 Cor. in. 2 f., xii. 12). But this new criterion of apostleship was capable of wider application, one dispensing altogether with vision of the risen Lord—which could not even in Paul’s case be proved so fully as in the case of the original apostles—but appealing to the “signs of an apostle” (1 Cor. ix. 2; 2 Cor. xii. 12), the tokens of spiritual gift visible in work done, and particularly in the planting of the Gospel in fresh fields (2 Cor. x. 14-18). It may be in this wide charismatic sense that Paul uses the term in 1 Cor. xii. 28 f., Eph. ii. 20, iii. 5, iv. 11, and especially in Rom. xvi. 7, “men of mark among the apostles” (cf. 2 Cor. xi. 13, “pseudo-apostles” masquerading as “apostles of Christ,” and perhaps 1 Thess. ii, 6, of himself and Silas). That he used it in senses differing with the context is proved by 1 Cor. xv. 9, where he styles himself “the least of apostles,” although in other connexions he claims the very highest rank, co-ordinate even with the Twelve as a body (Gal. ii. 7 ff.), in virtue of his distinctive Gospel.

4. Paul, theApostle to the Gentiles.”—So far, all apostles have been of the Palestinian type, chosen from those who actually heard the Messiah and given a mission primarily to Jews—apostles “of the circumcision” (Gal. ii. 7-9). Now, however, a new kind of apostleship arises, aimed at the Gentiles; and with this change in mission comes a shift in the type of missionary or apostle. Paul was the first of this new type and remained its main, and in some respects its only, example. Although he could occasionally claim to meet the old requirement of having seen the risen Lord (1 Cor. ix. 1, cf. xv. 8), he emphasized not this but the revelation within his own spirit of Jesus as God’s Son and the Gospel contained within that (Gal. i. 16). This was his divine calling as “apostle of the Gentiles” (Rom. xi. 13); here lay both his qualifications and credentials, once the results of the divine influence were evident in his successful missionary work (Gal. ii. 8 f.; 1 Cor. xi. 1 f.; 2 Cor. in. 2 f., xii. 12). However, this new standard for apostleship could have a broader application, one that completely did away with the vision of the risen Lord—which in even Paul’s case was not as fully proven as in the case of the original apostles—but instead appealed to the “signs of an apostle” (1 Cor. ix. 2; 2 Cor. xii. 12), the visible tokens of spiritual gifts shown in work accomplished, particularly in spreading the Gospel in new areas (2 Cor. x. 14-18). It may be in this broader charismatic sense that Paul uses the term in 1 Cor. xii. 28 f., Eph. ii. 20, iii. 5, iv. 11, and especially in Rom. xvi. 7, “well-known among the apostles” (cf. 2 Cor. xi. 13, “false apostles” posing as “apostles of Christ,” and perhaps 1 Thess. ii, 6, referring to himself and Silas). That he used the term with varying meanings based on context is shown in 1 Cor. xv. 9, where he calls himself “the least of the apostles,” even though in other contexts he claims the highest status, on par even with the Twelve as a group (Gal. ii. 7 ff.), due to his unique Gospel.

This point of view was not widely shared even in circles appreciative of his actual work. To most he seemed but a fruitful worker within lines determined by “the twelve apostles of the Lamb” as a body (Rev. xxi. 14). So we read of “the plant (Church) which the twelve apostles of the Beloved shall plant” (Ascension of Isaiah, iv. 3); “those who preached the Gospel to us (especially Gentiles)... unto whom He gave authority over the Gospel, being twelve for a witness to the tribes” (Barn. viii. 3, cf. v. 9); and the going forth of the 198 Twelve, after twelve years, beyond Palestine “into the world,” to give it a chance to hear (Preaching of Peter, in Clem. Alex. Strom. vi. 5.43; 6.48). Later on, however, his own claim told on the Church’s mind, when his epistles were read in church as a collection styled simply “the Apostle.”

This perspective wasn't commonly accepted, even among those who appreciated his actual work. To most, he appeared to be just a dedicated worker within the boundaries set by “the twelve apostles of the Lamb” as a group (Rev. xxi. 14). We read about “the plant (Church) that the twelve apostles of the Beloved will plant” (Ascension of Isaiah, iv. 3); “those who preached the Gospel to us (especially Gentiles)... to whom He gave authority over the Gospel, being twelve as witnesses to the tribes” (Barn. viii. 3, cf. v. 9); and the sending out of the Twelve, after twelve years, beyond Palestine “into the world,” to give it a chance to hear (Preaching of Peter, in Clem. Alex. Strom. vi. 5.43; 6.48). However, later on, his own claims began to influence the Church’s thinking when his letters were read in church as a collection simply called “the Apostle.”

As the primary medium of the Gentile Gospel (Gal. i. 16, cf. i. 8, ii. 2) Paul had no peers as an “apostle of the Gentiles” (Rom. xi. 13, cf. XV. 15-20, and see 1 Cor. xv. 8, “last of all to me”), unless it were Barnabas who shares with him the title “apostle” in Acts xiv. 4, 14—possibly with reference to the special “work” on which they had recently been “sent forth by the Spirit” (xiii. 2, 4). Yet such as shared the spiritual gift (charisma) of missionary power in sufficient degree, were in fact apostles of Christ in the Spirit (1 Cor. xii. 28, II). Such a secondary type of apostolate—answering to “apostolic missionaries” of later times (cf. the use of ἱεραπόστολος in this sense by the Orthodox Eastern Church to-day)—would help to account for the apostolic claims of the missionaries censured in Rev. ii. 2, as also for the “apostles” of the second generation implied in the Didachē.

As the main representative of the Gentile Gospel (Gal. i. 16, cf. i. 8, ii. 2), Paul had no rivals as an “apostle of the Gentiles” (Rom. xi. 13, cf. XV. 15-20, and see 1 Cor. xv. 8, “last of all to me”), except maybe Barnabas, who shares the title “apostle” with him in Acts xiv. 4, 14—likely in reference to the special “work” they had recently been “sent forth by the Spirit” (xiii. 2, 4). However, those who shared the spiritual gift (charisma) of missionary power to a significant extent were indeed apostles of Christ in the Spirit (1 Cor. xii. 28, II). This secondary type of apostolate—similar to “apostolic missionaries” of later times (cf. the use of missionary in this context by the Orthodox Eastern Church today)—would help explain the apostolic claims of the missionaries criticized in Rev. ii. 2, as well as the “apostles” of the second generation mentioned in the Didachē.

In the sub-apostolic age, however, the class of “missionaries” enjoying a charisma such as was conceived to convey apostolic commission through the Spirit, soon became distinguished from “apostles” (cf. Hennas, Sim. ix. 15.4, “the apostles and teachers of the message of the Son of God,” so 25.2; in 17.1 the apostles are reckoned as twelve), as the title became more and more confined by usage to the original apostles, particularly the Twelve as a body (e.g. Ascension of Isaiah and the Preaching of Peter), or to them and Paul (e.g. in Clement and Ignatius), and as reverence for these latter grew in connexion with their story in the Gospels and in Acts.2 Thus Eusebius describes as “evangelists” (cf. Philip the Evangelist in Acts xxi. 8, also Eph. iv. 11, 2 Tim. iv. 5) those who “occupied the first rank in the succession to the Apostles” in missionary work (Hist. Eccl. iii. 37, cf. v. 10). Yet the wider sense of “apostle” did not at once die out even in the third and fourth generations. It lingered on as applied to the Seventy3—by Irenaeus, Tertullian, Clement and Origen— and even to Clement of Rome, by Clem. Alex. (? as a “fellow-worker” of Paul, Phil. iv. 3); while the adjective “apostolic” was applied to men like Polycarp (in his contemporary Acts of Martyrdom) and the Phrygian, Alexander, martyred at Lyons in A.D. 177 (Eus. v. 1), who was “not without share of apostolic charisma.”

In the sub-apostolic age, however, the group of “missionaries” who had a charisma believed to pass on the apostolic commission through the Spirit soon became distinct from “apostles” (cf. Hennas, Sim. ix. 15.4, “the apostles and teachers of the message of the Son of God,” see 25.2; in 17.1 the apostles are counted as twelve), as the term increasingly referred specifically to the original apostles, especially the Twelve as a group (e.g. Ascension of Isaiah and the Preaching of Peter), or to them and Paul (e.g. in Clement and Ignatius). As respect for these figures grew in relation to their stories in the Gospels and in Acts, Eusebius describes as “evangelists” those who “held the highest position in the succession to the Apostles” in missionary activities (cf. Philip the Evangelist in Acts xxi. 8, also Eph. iv. 11, 2 Tim. iv. 5) (Hist. Eccl. iii. 37, cf. v. 10). Still, the broader meaning of “apostle” didn’t completely fade even in the third and fourth generations. It continued to be applied to the Seventy—by Irenaeus, Tertullian, Clement, and Origen—and even to Clement of Rome, by Clem. Alex. (? as a “fellow-worker” of Paul, Phil. iv. 3); while the term “apostolic” was used for figures like Polycarp (in his contemporary Acts of Martyrdom) and the Phrygian, Alexander, who was martyred at Lyons in C.E. 177 (Eus. v. 1), and who had “not without share of apostolic charisma.”

The authority attaching to apostles was essentially spiritual in character and in the conditions of its exercise. Anything like autocracy among his followers was alien to Jesus’s own teaching (Matt, xxiii. 6-11). All Christians were “brethren,” and the basis of pre-eminence among them was relative ability for service. But the personal relation of the original Palestinian apostles to Jesus himself as Master gave them a unique fitness as authorized witnesses, from which flowed naturally, by sheer spiritual influence, such special forms of authority as they came gradually to exercise in the early Church. “There is no trace in Scripture of a formal commission of authority for government from Christ Himself” (Hort, Chr. Eccl. p. 84) given to apostles, save as representing the brethren in their collective action. Even the “resolutions” (δόγματα) of the Jerusalem conference were not set forth by the apostles present simply in their own name, nor as ipso facto binding on the conscience of the Antiochene Church. They expressed “a claim to deference rather than a right to be obeyed” (Hort, op. cit. 81-85). Such was the kind of authority attaching to apostles, whether collectively or individually. It was not a fixed notion, but varied in quantity and quality with the growing maturity of converts. This is how Paul, from whom we gather most on the point, conceives the matter. The exercise of his spiritual authority is not absolute, lest he “lord it over their faith”; consent of conscience or of “faith” is ever requisite (2 Cor. i. 24; cf. Rom. xiv. 23). But the principle was elastic in application, and would take more patriarchal forms in Palestine than in the Greek world. The case was essentially the same as on the various mission-fields to-day, where the position of the “missionary” is at first one of great spiritual initiative and authority, limited only by his own sense of the fitness of things, in the light of local usages. So the notion of formal or constitutional authority attaching to the apostolate, in its various senses, is an anachronism for the apostolic age. The tendency, however, was for their authority to be conceived more and more on formal lines, and, particularly after their deaths, as absolute.

The authority associated with apostles was primarily spiritual and depended on how it was exercised. Autocracy among Jesus’s followers was completely against his teachings (Matt, xxiii. 6-11). All Christians were considered “brethren,” and the basis for any leadership among them stemmed from their relative ability to serve. However, the personal connection between the original Palestinian apostles and Jesus as their Master gave them a unique role as authorized witnesses. This relationship naturally led to a type of authority in the early Church, rooted in spiritual influence. “There is no indication in Scripture of a formal commission of authority for governance from Christ Himself” (Hort, Chr. Eccl. p. 84) given to the apostles, except as representatives of the brethren in their collective actions. Even the “resolutions” (doctrines) from the Jerusalem conference were not presented by the apostles as simply their own, nor were they ipso facto binding on the conscience of the Antiochene Church. They represented “a claim to respect rather than a mandate to be obeyed” (Hort, op. cit. 81-85). This is the nature of the authority held by apostles, whether as a group or individually. It was not a fixed concept, but varied in strength and quality depending on the increasing maturity of believers. This is how Paul, who provides much insight on this topic, views the situation. His spiritual authority is not absolute; he does not want to “lord it over their faith,” and the consent of conscience or “faith” is always necessary (2 Cor. i. 24; cf. Rom. xiv. 23). However, the principle was flexible in its applications and tended to take more patriarchal forms in Palestine than in the Greek world. The situation is quite similar to various mission fields today, where the position of the “missionary” initially involves significant spiritual initiative and authority, limited only by their own sense of appropriateness in light of local customs. Thus, the idea of formal or constitutional authority linked to the apostolate, in its various meanings, is outdated when considering the apostolic age. However, the trend was for their authority to be understood more formally, especially after their deaths, as absolute.

The authority attaching to apostles as writers, which led gradually to the formation of a New Testament Canon—“the Apostles” side by side with “the Books” of the Old Testament (so 2 Clement xiv., c. A.D. 120-140)—is a subject by itself (see Bible).

The influence of the apostles as authors, which eventually contributed to the creation of the New Testament Canon—“the Apostles” alongside “the Books” of the Old Testament (as noted in 2 Clement xiv., c. CE 120-140)—is a topic in its own right (see Bible).

This change of conception helped to further the notion of a certain devolution of apostolic powers to successors constituted by act of ordination. The earliest idea of an apostolical succession meant simply the re-emergence in others of the apostolic spirit of missionary enthusiasm. “The first rank in the succession of the apostles” consisted of men eminent as disciples of theirs, and so fitted to continue their labours (Euseb. iii. 37); and even under Commodus (A.D. 180-193) there were “evangelists of the word” possessed of “inspired zeal to emulate apostles” (v. 10). Such were perhaps the “apostles” of the Didachē. Of the notion of apostolic succession in ministerial grace conferred by ordination, there is little or no trace before Irenaeus. The famous passage in Clement of Rome (xliv. 2) refers simply to the succession of one set of men to another in an office of apostolic institution. The grace that makes Polycarp “an apostolic and prophetic teacher” (Mart. Polyc. 16) is peculiar to him personally. But Irenaeus holds, apparently on a priori grounds, that “elders” who stand in orderly succession to the apostolic founders of the true tradition in the churches, have, “along with the succession of oversight,” also an “assured gift of (insight into) truth” by the Father’s good pleasure (“cum episcopatus successione charisma veritatis certum secundum placitum Patris acceperunt”), in contrast to heretics who wilfully stand outside this approved line of transmission (adv. Haer. iv. 26. 2). So far, indeed, the succession is not limited to the monarchical episcopate as distinct from the presbyteral order to which it belonged (cf. “presbyterii ordo, principalis consessio” in the same context, and see iii. 14. 2), though the bishops of apostolic churches, as capable of being traced individually (iii. 3. 1), are specially appealed to as witnesses (cf. iv. 33. 8, v. 19. 2)—as earlier by Hegesippus (Euseb. iv. 22). Nor is there mention of sacerdotal grace attaching to the succession in apostolic truth.4 But once the idea of supernatural grace going along with office as such (of which we have already a trace in the Ignatian bishop, though without the notion of actual apostolic succession) arose in connexion with successio ab apostolis, the full development of the doctrine was but a matter of time.5

This change in understanding helped advance the idea of a transfer of apostolic powers to successors established through ordination. The earliest concept of an apostolic succession simply referred to the revival in others of the apostolic spirit of missionary enthusiasm. “The first rank in the succession of the apostles” included individuals who were notable as their disciples and were thus equipped to continue their work (Euseb. iii. 37); and even under Commodus (CE 180-193), there were “evangelists of the word” who had “inspired zeal to emulate the apostles” (v. 10). These might have been the “apostles” mentioned in the Didachē. The idea of apostolic succession in terms of the ministerial grace given through ordination is hardly evident before Irenaeus. The well-known passage in Clement of Rome (xliv. 2) simply refers to the succession of one group of men to another in an office of apostolic origin. The grace that makes Polycarp “an apostolic and prophetic teacher” (Mart. Polyc. 16) is unique to him. However, Irenaeus argues, seemingly on a priori grounds, that “elders” standing in an orderly succession to the apostolic founders of the true tradition in the churches have, “along with the succession of oversight,” also an “assured gift of (insight into) truth” by the Father's good pleasure (“cum episcopatus successione charisma veritatis certum secundum placitum Patris acceperunt”), in contrast to heretics who willfully stand outside this validated line of transmission (adv. Haer. iv. 26. 2). Up to this point, the succession is not confined to the monarchical episcopate distinct from the presbyteral order to which it belonged (cf. “presbyterii ordo, principalis consessio” in the same context, and see iii. 14. 2), though the bishops of apostolic churches, who can be traced individually (iii. 3. 1), are specifically recognized as witnesses (cf. iv. 33. 8, v. 19. 2)—as earlier noted by Hegesippus (Euseb. iv. 22). There is also no mention of sacerdotal grace being linked to the succession in apostolic truth.4 But once the idea of supernatural grace accompanying office as such (which we already see in the Ignatian bishop, though without the concept of actual apostolic succession) emerged in connection with successio ab apostolis, the complete development of the doctrine was only a matter of time.5

Literature.—In England the modern treatment of the subject dates from J.B. Lightfoot’s dissertation in his Commentary on Galatians, to which Dr F.J.A. Hort’s The Christian Ecclesia added elements of value; see also T.M. Lindsay, The Church and the Ministry, and articles in Hastings’ Dictionary of the Bible and the Ency. Biblica; A. Harnack, Die Lehre der Apostel, pp. 93 ff., and 199 Dogmengeschichte (3rd ed.), i. 153 ff.; E. Haupt, Zum Verstandnis d. Apostolats in NT. (Halle, 1896); and especially H. Monnier, La Notion de l’apostolat, des origines à Irénée (Paris, 1903). The later legends and their sources are examined by T. Schermann, Propheten- und Apostellegenden (Leipzig, 1907).

Books.—In England, the modern approach to the subject began with J.B. Lightfoot’s dissertation in his Commentary on Galatians, to which Dr. F.J.A. Hort’s The Christian Ecclesia contributed valuable insights; see also T.M. Lindsay, The Church and the Ministry, and articles in Hastings’ Dictionary of the Bible and the Ency. Biblica; A. Harnack, Die Lehre der Apostel, pp. 93 ff., and 199 Dogmengeschichte (3rd ed.), i. 153 ff.; E. Haupt, Zum Verstandnis d. Apostolats in NT. (Halle, 1896); and especially H. Monnier, La Notion de l’apostolat, des origines à Irénée (Paris, 1903). The later legends and their sources are analyzed by T. Schermann, Propheten- und Apostellegenden (Leipzig, 1907).

(J. V. B.)

1 By analogy, that is; for the wider sense of “apostle” in the Apostolic age need not be identical with a sub-apostolic use of the term (see below, 4 fin.).

1 Similarly; the broader meaning of "apostle" during the Apostolic age doesn't have to match the way the term is used in the sub-apostolic period (see below, 4 fin.)

2 The tendency is already visible in the Lucan writings. An anologous process is seen in the use of “disciple,” applicable in the apostolic age to Christians at large, but in the course of the sub-apostolic age restricted to personal “disciples of the Lord” or to martyrs (Papias in Eus. iii. 39, cf. Ignatius, Ad Eph. i. 2).

2 You can already see this trend in the writings of Lucan. A similar process is observed in the use of "disciple," which originally referred to all Christians during the apostolic age, but throughout the sub-apostolic age became limited to personal "disciples of the Lord" or martyrs (Papias in Eus. iii. 39, cf. Ignatius, Ad Eph. i. 2).

3 In the Edessene legend of Abgar, in Eus. i. 12, we read that “Judas, who is also Thomas, sent Thaddaeus as apostle—one of the Seventy,” where simply an authoritative envoy of Jesus seems intended. For traces of the wider sense of “apostle” in Gnostic, Marcionite and Montanist circles, see Monnier (as below).

3 In the Edessene legend of Abgar, in Eus. i. 12, we read that “Judas, also known as Thomas, sent Thaddaeus as an apostle—one of the Seventy,” where it seems to indicate a representative of Jesus. For evidence of the broader meaning of “apostle” in Gnostic, Marcionite, and Montanist circles, see Monnier (as below).

4 The above is substantially the view taken by J.B. Lightfoot in his essay on “The Christian Ministry” (Comm. on Philippians, 6th ed., pp. 239, 252 f.), and by T.M. Lindsay, The Church and the Ministry (1902), pp. 224-228, 278 ff. Even C. Gore, The Church and the Ministry (1889), pp. 119 ff., while inferring a sacerdotal element in Irenaeus’s conception of the episcopate, says: “But it is mainly as preserving the catholic traditions that Irenaeus regards the apostolic succession” (p. 120).

4 The above reflects the perspective shared by J.B. Lightfoot in his essay on “The Christian Ministry” (Comm. on Philippians, 6th ed., pp. 239, 252 f.), and by T.M. Lindsay in The Church and the Ministry (1902), pp. 224-228, 278 ff. Even C. Gore in The Church and the Ministry (1889), pp. 119 ff., while suggesting a priestly aspect in Irenaeus’s view of the episcopate, states: “But it is mainly as preserving the catholic traditions that Irenaeus regards the apostolic succession” (p. 120).

5 See Lightfoot’s essay for Cyprian’s contribution, as also for that of the Clementines, which fix on the twofold position of James at Jerusalem, as apostle and bishop, as bearing on apostolic succession in the episcopate.

5 Check out Lightfoot’s essay for Cyprian’s input, as well as for the Clementines, which highlight James’s dual role in Jerusalem as both apostle and bishop, relating to the concept of apostolic succession in the episcopate.


APOSTLE SPOONS, a set of spoons, usually of silver or silver gilt, with the handles terminating in figures of the apostles, each bearing their distinctive emblem. They were common baptismal gifts during the 15th and 16th centuries, but were dying out by 1666. Often single spoons were given, bearing the figure of the patron or name saint of the child. Sets of the twelve apostles are not common, and complete sets of thirteen, with the figure of our Lord on a larger spoon, are still rarer. The Goldsmiths’ Company in London has one such set, all by the same maker and bearing the hall-mark of 1626, and a set of thirteen was sold at Christie’s in 1904 for £4900.

APOSTLE SPOONS, a collection of spoons, typically made of silver or silver-plated metal, with handles that end in figures of the apostles, each one displaying their unique emblem. They were popular as baptismal gifts during the 15th and 16th centuries but started to fade away by 1666. Often, individual spoons were offered, featuring the figure of the child's patron or name saint. Complete sets of the twelve apostles are uncommon, and full sets of thirteen, which include a larger spoon with the figure of our Lord, are even rarer. The Goldsmiths’ Company in London owns one such set, all made by the same craftsman and marked with the hallmark from 1626, while a complete set of thirteen was sold at Christie’s in 1904 for £4900.

See William Hone, The Everyday Book and Table Book (1831); and W.J. Cripps, Old English Plate (9th ed., 1906).

See William Hone, The Everyday Book and Table Book (1831); and W.J. Cripps, Old English Plate (9th ed., 1906).


APOSTOLICAL CONSTITUTIONS (Διαταγαὶ or Διατάξεις τῶν ἁγίων ἀποστόλων διὰ Κλήμεντος τοῦ Ῥωμαίων ἐπισκόπου τε καὶ πολίτου. Καθολικὴ διδασκαλία), a collection of ecclesiastical regulations in eight books, the last of which concludes with the eighty-five Canons of the Holy Apostles. By their title the Constitutions profess to have been drawn up by the apostles, and to have been transmitted to the Church by Clement of Rome; sometimes the alleged authors are represented as speaking jointly, sometimes singly. From the first they have been very variously estimated; the Canons, as a rule, more highly than the rest of the work. For example, the Trullan Council of Constantinople (quini-sextum), A.D. 692, accepts the Canons as genuine by its second canon, but rejects the Constitutions on the ground that spurious matter had been introduced into them by heretics; and whilst the former were henceforward used freely in the East, only a few portions of the latter found their way into the Greek and oriental law-books. Again, Dionysius Exiguus (c. A.D. 500) translated fifty of the Canons into Latin,1 although under the title Canones qui dicuntur Apostolorum, and thus they passed into other Western collections; whilst the Constitutions as a whole remained unknown in the West until they were published in 1563 by the Jesuit Turrianus. At first received with enthusiasm, their authenticity soon came to be impugned; and their true significance was largely lost sight of as it began to be realized that they were not what they claimed to be. Vain attempts were still made to rehabilitate them, and they were, in general, more highly estimated in England than elsewhere. The most extravagant estimate of all was that of Whiston, who calls them “the most sacred standard of Christianity, equal in authority to the Gospels themselves, and superior in authority to the epistles of single apostles, some parts of them being our Saviour’s own original laws delivered to the apostles, and the other parts the public acts of the apostles” (Historical preface to Primitive Christianity Revived, pp. 85-86). Others, however, realized their composite character from the first, and by degrees some of the component documents became known. Bishop Pearson was able to say that “the eight books of the Apostolic Constitutions have been after Epiphanius’s time compiled and patched together out of the didascaliae or doctrines which went under the names of the holy apostles and their disciples or successors” (Vind. Ign. i. cap. 5); whilst a greater scholar still, Archbishop Usher, had already gone much further, and concluded, forestalling the results of modern critical methods, that their compiler was none other than the compiler of the spurious Ignatian epistles (Epp. Polyc. et Ign. p. lxiii. f., Oxon. 1644). The Apostolical Constitutions, then, are spurious, and they are one of a long series of documents of like character. But we have not really gauged their significance by saying that they are spurious. They are the last stage and climax of a gradual process of compilation and crystallization, so to speak, of unwritten church custom; and a short account of this process will show their real importance and value.

APOSTOLICAL CONSTITUTIONS (Διαταγές or Instructions of the holy apostles through Clement, the bishop and citizen of Rome. Universal teaching.), a collection of church rules in eight books, ends with the eighty-five Canons of the Holy Apostles. The title suggests the Constitutions were created by the apostles and handed down to the Church through Clement of Rome; sometimes the supposed authors are depicted as speaking together, other times separately. Opinions on them have varied widely since their inception; generally, the Canons are regarded more highly than the rest of the work. For instance, the Trullan Council of Constantinople (quini-sextum), CE 692, accepted the Canons as authentic through its second canon but dismissed the Constitutions, arguing that heretics had introduced false content into them; while the former were commonly used in the East thereafter, only a few sections of the latter were incorporated into Greek and Eastern law books. Additionally, Dionysius Exiguus (c. CE 500) translated fifty of the Canons into Latin under the title Canones qui dicuntur Apostolorum, leading them to be included in other Western collections; meanwhile, the Constitutions remained largely unknown in the West until they were published in 1563 by Jesuit Turrianus. Initially welcomed with excitement, their authenticity was soon challenged; their true significance began to diminish as it was realized they were not as they claimed. Futile efforts were made to restore their reputation, and they were generally regarded more favorably in England than elsewhere. The most extravagant view came from Whiston, who called them “the most sacred standard of Christianity, equal in authority to the Gospels themselves, and superior in authority to the letters of individual apostles, with some parts being our Savior’s original laws delivered to the apostles, and other parts being the public acts of the apostles” (Historical preface to Primitive Christianity Revived, pp. 85-86). Others, however, recognized their mixed nature from the start, and gradually some of the original documents became known. Bishop Pearson noted that “the eight books of the Apostolic Constitutions have been compiled and patched together after Epiphanius’s time from the didascaliae or teachings attributed to the holy apostles and their disciples or successors” (Vind. Ign. i. cap. 5); while an even greater scholar, Archbishop Usher, had already gone much further and concluded, ahead of modern critical findings, that their compiler was also the one behind the questionable Ignatian letters (Epp. Polyc. et Ign. p. lxiii. f., Oxon. 1644). Therefore, the Apostolical Constitutions are not genuine and are part of a long series of similar documents. However, simply labeling them as spurious does not truly reflect their significance. They represent the final stage and culmination of a gradual process of gathering and solidifying unwritten church traditions; a brief overview of this process will reveal their actual importance and value.

These documents are the outcome of a tendency which is found in every society, religious or secular, at some point in its history. The society begins by living in accordance with its fundamental principles. By degrees these Origin and real nature. translate themselves into appropriate action. Difficulties are faced and solved as they arise; and when similar circumstances recur they will tend to be met in the same way. Thus there grows up by degrees a body of what may be called customary law. Plainly, there is no particular point of time at which this customary law can be said to have begun. To all appearance it is there from the first in solution and gradually crystallizes out; and yet it is being continually modified as time goes on. Moreover, the time comes when the attempt is made, either by private individuals or by the society itself, to put this “customary law” into writing. Now when this is done, two tendencies will at once show themselves. (a) This “customary law” will at once become more definite: the very fact of putting it into writing will involve an effort after logical completeness. There will be a tendency on the part of the writer to fill up gaps; to state local customs as if they obtained universally; to introduce his personal equation, and to add to that which is the custom that which, in his opinion, ought to be. (b) There will be a strong tendency to fortify that which has been written with great names, especially in days when there is no very clear notion of literary property. This is done, not always with any deliberate consciousness of fraud (although it must be clearly recognized that truth is not one of the “natural virtues,” and that the sense of the obligations of truthfulness was far from strong), but rather to emphasize the importance of what was written, and the fact that it was no new invention of the writer’s. In a non-literary age fame gathers about great names; and that which, ex hypothesi, has gone on since the beginning of things is naturally attributed to the founders of the society. Then come interpolations to make this ascription more probable, and the prefixing of a title, then or subsequently, which states it as a fact. This is precisely the way in which the Apostolical Constitutions and other kindred documents have come into being. They are attempts, made in various places and at different times, to put into writing the order and discipline and character of the Church; in part for private instruction and edification, but in part also with a view to actual use; frequently even with an actual reference to particular circumstances. In this lies their importance, to a degree which is only just being adequately realized. They contain evidence of the utmost value as to the order of the Church in early days; evidence, however, which needs to be sifted with the greatest care, since the personal preferences of the writer and the customs of the local church to which he belongs are continually mixed up with things which have a wider prevalence. It is only by careful investigation, by the method of comparisons, that these elements can be disentangled; but as the number of documents of this class known to us is continually increasing, their value increases even more than proportionately. And whilst their local and fugitive character must be fully recognized and allowed for, is it unjustifiable to set them aside or leave them out of account as heretical, and therefore negligible.

These documents result from a tendency present in every society, whether religious or secular, at some point in its history. A society starts by living according to its core principles. Gradually, these principles turn into actions. As challenges come up, they are addressed, and when similar situations arise, they tend to be handled the same way. Over time, this leads to the formation of what can be called customary law. It’s clear that there is no specific moment when this customary law officially begins. It seems to be present from the start in a fluid form, slowly solidifying; yet it constantly evolves as time progresses. Eventually, there comes a time when either individuals or the society itself tries to put this “customary law” in writing. When this happens, two tendencies become evident. (a) This “customary law” becomes more defined: the act of writing it down necessitates a push for logical completeness. The writer may attempt to fill in blanks, present local customs as if they were universal, introduce their own views, and add what they believe ought to be considered customary. (b) There will be a strong urge to back up the written content with notable names, especially during times when the concept of literary ownership is unclear. This is done, not always with a clear intention to deceive (though it should be noted that truth is not a “natural virtue,” and the sense of obligation to truthfulness was not particularly strong), but rather to underscore the significance of what was written and to indicate that it isn’t a new concept created by the writer. In a time when writing is less common, fame tends to surround significant figures, and anything that, ex hypothesi, has existed since the beginning is naturally linked to the founders of the society. This leads to additions aimed at making this attribution more convincing, along with the inclusion of a title, either then or later, that presents it as a fact. This is exactly how the Apostolical Constitutions and other similar documents have come into existence. They are efforts, made in various locations and at different times, to record the order, discipline, and character of the Church; partly for personal instruction and growth, but also for practical use, often with specific context in mind. Their significance is only just beginning to be fully understood. They provide extremely valuable evidence concerning the early Church’s order; however, this evidence needs careful examination, as the writer’s personal biases and the customs of their local church are often intertwined with more widely accepted practices. Only through meticulous investigation and comparison can these elements be separated; and as the number of known documents of this kind continues to grow, their value increases even more significantly. While their local and transient nature must be acknowledged and taken into account, it is unjustifiable to dismiss them as heretical and therefore insignificant.

It will be sufficient here to mention shortly the chief collections of this kind which came into existence during the first four centuries; generally as the work of private individuals, and having, at any rate, no more than a local authority Other collections. of some kind, (a) The earliest known to us is the Didachē or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, itself compiled from earlier materials, and dating from about 120 (see Didachē). (b) The Apostolic Church Order (apostolische Kirchenordnung of German writers); Ecclesiastical Canons of the Holy Apostles of one MS.; Sententiae Apostolorum of Pitra: of about 300, and emanating probably from Asia Minor. Its earlier part, cc. 1-14, depends upon the Didachē, and the rest of it is a book of discipline in which Harnack has attempted to distinguish two older fragments of church law (Texte u. Unters. ii. 5). (c) The so-called Canones Hippolyti, probably Alexandrian or Roman, and of the first half of the 3rd century. It will be observed that these 200 make no claim to apostolic authorship; but otherwise their origin is like that of the rest, unless indeed, as has been suggested, they represent the work of an actual Roman synod, (d) The so-called Egyptian Church Order, in Coptic from a Greek pre-Nicene original (c. 310). It is part of the Egyptian Heptateuch and contains neither communion nor ordination forms, (e) The Ethiopic Church Order, perhaps twenty years later than (d), and forming part of the Ethiopic Statutes. (f) The Verona Latin Fragments, discovered and published by Hauler, portions of a form akin to (e), which may be dated c. 340, though possibly earlier. It has a preface which refers to a treatise Concerning Spiritual Gifts as having immediately preceded it. (g) The recently discovered Testament of the Lord, which is somewhat later in date (c. 350), and likewise depends upon the Canones Hippolyti. (h) The so-called Canons of Basil. This is an Arabic work perhaps based on a Coptic and ultimately on a Greek original, embodying with modifications large portions of the Canons of Hippolytus. (On the relations between the six last-named, see Hippolytus, Canons of.)

It’s enough to briefly mention the main collections of this kind that emerged during the first four centuries; typically created by private individuals and having, at least, some local authority. Other collections. (a) The earliest one known to us is the Didachē or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, which was compiled from earlier sources and dates back to around 120 (see Didachē). (b) The Apostolic Church Order (apostolische Kirchenordnung by German writers); Ecclesiastical Canons of the Holy Apostles from one manuscript; Sententiae Apostolorum by Pitra: dating around 300 and likely coming from Asia Minor. The earlier sections, chapters 1-14, rely on the Didachē, while the rest serves as a book of discipline in which Harnack has tried to identify two older fragments of church law (Texte u. Unters. ii. 5). (c) The so-called Canones Hippolyti, likely from Alexandria or Rome, and dating from the first half of the 3rd century. It's noticeable that these do not claim apostolic authorship; otherwise, their origin is similar to the others, unless, as suggested, they reflect the work of an actual Roman synod. (d) The so-called Egyptian Church Order, in Coptic from a Greek pre-Nicene original (around 310). It is part of the Egyptian Heptateuch and does not include forms for communion or ordination. (e) The Ethiopic Church Order, possibly around twenty years later than (d), and part of the Ethiopic Statutes. (f) The Verona Latin Fragments, discovered and published by Hauler, contain parts of a form similar to (e) and can be dated around 340, though possibly earlier. It has a preface that references a treatise Concerning Spiritual Gifts that preceded it. (g) The recently discovered Testament of the Lord, which is somewhat later (around 350) and also depends on the Canones Hippolyti. (h) The so-called Canons of Basil. This is an Arabic work that may be based on a Coptic and ultimately on a Greek original, incorporating, with modifications, large parts of the Canons of Hippolytus. (For the relationships among the last six mentioned, see Hippolytus, Canons of.)

Here also may be noticed the Didascalia Apostolorum, originally written in Greek, but known through a Syriac version and a fragmentary Latin one published by Hauler. It is of the middle of the 3rd century—in fact, a passage in the Latin translation seems to give us the date A.D. 254. It emanates from Palestine or Syria, and is independent of the documents already mentioned; and upon it the Constitutions themselves very largely depend. It is a mixture of moral and ecclesiastical instruction. The Sacramentary of Serapion (c. 350), The Pilgrimage of Etheria (Silvia) (c. 385), and The Catechetical Lectures of Cyril of Jerusalem (348) are also of value in this connexion. In the (so-called) Constitutions through Hippolytus we have possibly a preliminary draft of the famous 8th book of the Apostolical Constitutions.2

Here also, we can note the Didascalia Apostolorum, originally written in Greek, but known through a Syriac version and a fragmentary Latin one published by Hauler. It dates from the mid-3rd century—in fact, a passage in the Latin translation seems to indicate the date CE 254. It comes from Palestine or Syria and is independent of the previously mentioned documents; the Constitutions rely heavily on it. It blends moral and church teachings. The Sacramentary of Serapion (c. 350), The Pilgrimage of Etheria (Silvia) (c. 385), and The Catechetical Lectures of Cyril of Jerusalem (348) are also important in this context. In the (so-called) Constitutions through Hippolytus, we might have an early draft of the famous 8th book of the Apostolical Constitutions.2

The Constitutions themselves fall into three main divisions. (i.) The first of these consists of books i.-vi., and throughout runs parallel to the Didascalia. Bickell, indeed, held that this latter was an abbreviated form of books i.-vi.; Contents. but it is now agreed on all hands that the Constitutions are based on the Didascalia and not vice versa. (ii.) Then follows book vii., the first thirty-one chapters of which are an adaptation of the Didachē, whilst the rest contain various liturgical forms of which the origin is still uncertain, though it has been acutely suggested by Achelis, and with great probability, that they originated in the schismatical congregation of Lucian at Antioch. (iii.) Book viii. is more composite, and falls into three parts. The first two chapters, περὶ χαρισμάτων, may be based upon a lost work of St Hippolytus, otherwise known only by a reference to it in the preface of the Verona Latin Fragments; and an examination shows that this is highly probable. The next section, cc. 3-27, περὶ χειροτονιῶν, and cc. 28-46, περὶ κανόνων, is twofold, and is evidently that upon which the writer sets most store. The apostles no longer speak jointly, but one by one in an apostolic council, and the section closes with a joint decree of them all. They speak of the ordination of bishops (the so-called Clementine Liturgy is that which is directed to be used at the consecration of a bishop, cc. 5-15), of presbyters, deacons, deaconesses, sub-deacons and lectors, and then pass on to confessors, virgins, widows and exorcists; after which follows a series of canons on various subjects, and liturgical formulae. With regard to this section, all that can be said is that it includes materials which are also to be found elsewhere—in the Egyptian Church Order and other documents already spoken of—and that the precise relation between them is at present not determined. The third section consists of the Apostolic Canons already referred to, the last and most significant of which places the Constitutions and the two epistles of Clement in the canon of Scripture, and omits the Apocalypse. They are derived in part from the preceding Constitutions, in part from the canons of the councils of Antioch, 341, Nicaea, 325, and possibly Laodicaea, 363.

The Constitutions can be divided into three main parts. (i.) The first part includes books i.-vi., which run parallel to the Didascalia. Bickell argued that the Didascalia was a shortened version of books i.-vi.; Contents. however, it is now widely accepted that the Constitutions were based on the Didascalia, not the other way around. (ii.) Next is book vii., the first thirty-one chapters of which adapt the Didachē, while the remaining chapters contain various liturgical forms whose origins are still unclear. Achelis has suggested, quite plausibly, that they originated from the schismatic congregation of Lucian in Antioch. (iii.) Book viii. is more complex and divides into three sections. The first two chapters, about gifts, may be based on a lost work by St. Hippolytus, known only through a reference in the preface of the Verona Latin Fragments; an examination supports this theory. The next section, cc. 3-27, about ordinations, and cc. 28-46, about rules, is twofold and appears to be the part the author values most. The apostles are no longer speaking collectively but individually in an apostolic council, and the section concludes with a joint decree from all of them. They discuss the ordination of bishops (the so-called Clementine Liturgy is prescribed for the consecration of a bishop, cc. 5-15), as well as presbyters, deacons, deaconesses, sub-deacons, and lectors, before moving on to confessors, virgins, widows, and exorcists; following this is a series of canons on various topics and liturgical formulas. Regarding this section, all that can be said is it contains material also found in the Egyptian Church Order and other previously mentioned documents, though the exact relationship between them is not yet determined. The third section consists of the Apostolic Canons previously mentioned, the last and most significant of which includes the Constitutions and the two epistles of Clement in the canon of Scripture, while excluding the Apocalypse. They are derived partly from the earlier Constitutions and partly from the canons of the councils of Antioch, 341, Nicaea, 325, and possibly Laodicaea, 363.

A comparison of the Constitutions with the material upon which they are based will illustrate the compiler’s method. (a) To begin with the Didascalia already mentioned. It is unmethodical and badly digested, homiletical in style, and abounding in biblical quotations. There is no precise arrangement; but the subjects, following a general introduction, are the bishop and his duties, penance, the administration of the offerings, the settlement of disputes, the divine service, the order of widows, deacons and deaconesses, the poor, behaviour in persecution, and so forth. The compiler of the Constitutions finds here material after his own heart. He is even more discursive and more homiletical in style; he adds fresh citations of the Scriptures, and additional explanations and moral reflexions; and all this with so little judgment that he often leaves confusion worse confounded (e.g. in ii. 57, where, upon a symbolical description of the Church as a sheepfold, he has superimposed the further symbolism of a ship). (b) Passing on to books vii. and viii., we observe that the compiler’s method of necessity changes with his new material. In the former book he still makes large additions and alterations, but there is less scope for his prolixity than before; and in the latter, where he is no longer dealing with generalities, but making actual definitions, the Constitutions of necessity become more precise and statutory in form. Throughout he adopts and adapts the language of his sources as far as possible, “only pruning in the most pressing cases,” but towards the end he cannot avoid making larger alterations from time to time. And his alterations throughout are not made aimlessly. Where he finds things which would obviously clash with the customs of his own day, he unhesitatingly modifies them. An account of the Passion, with a curiously perverted chronology, the object of which was to justify the length of the Passion-tide fast, is entirely revised for this reason (v. 14); the direction to observe Easter according to the Jewish computation is changed into the exact contrary for the same reason (v. 17); and where his archetype lapses into speaking of a lull in persecution he naïvely informs us that the Romans have now given up persecuting and have adopted Christianity (vi. 26), forgetting altogether that he is speaking in the character of the apostles. Above all, he both magnifies the office of the Christian ministry as a whole and alters what is said of it in detail (for example, the deaconess loses rank not a little), to make it agree with the circumstances of his day in general, and with his own ideas of fitness in particular. It is here that his evidence is at once most valuable and needs to be used with the greatest care. To give one striking example of the value of these documents. The Canones Hippolyti (vi. 43) provide that one who has been a confessor for the faith may be received as a presbyter by virtue of his confessorship and not by the laying on of the bishop’s hands; but if he be chosen a bishop, he is to be ordained. This provision passes on into the Egyptian Ecclesiastical Canons and other kindred documents, and even into the Testamentum Domini. But the corresponding passage in the Apostolical Constitutions (viii. 23) entirely reverses it: “A confessor is not ordained, for he is so by choice and patience, and is worthy of great honour.... But if there be occasion, he is to be ordained either a bishop, priest, or deacon. But if any one of the confessors who is not ordained snatches to himself any such dignity upon account of his confession, let the same person be deprived and rejected; for he is not in such an office, since he has denied the constitution of Christ, and is worse than an infidel.”

A comparison of the Constitutions with the source material will show the compiler’s method. (a) First, let's look at the Didascalia, which has already been mentioned. It’s disorganized and poorly structured, written in a homiletical style, and filled with biblical quotes. There’s no clear arrangement; after a general introduction, the topics cover the bishop and his responsibilities, penance, handling offerings, resolving disputes, divine service, the order of widows, deacons and deaconesses, the poor, behavior during persecution, and so on. The compiler of the Constitutions finds useful material here. His style is even more rambling and homiletical; he adds more Scripture quotes and further explanations and moral reflections. He does this with such poor judgment that it often leads to greater confusion (for example, in ii. 57, where he layers a symbolic description of the Church as a sheepfold with an additional symbol of a ship). (b) Moving to books vii. and viii., we see that the compiler’s method naturally changes with the new material. In the former book, he still makes extensive additions and changes, but there’s less room for his verbosity than before; in the latter, since he’s no longer dealing with general concepts but making specific definitions, the Constitutions become more precise and formal. Throughout, he incorporates and adapts the language of his sources as much as possible, “only trimming in the most pressing cases,” but by the end, he can’t help but make larger changes from time to time. His changes are not made randomly. When he encounters elements that would clearly clash with the customs of his time, he unhesitatingly modifies them. A narrative of the Passion, which has a strangely twisted timeline intended to justify the length of the Passion-tide fast, is completely revised for this reason (v. 14); the instruction to celebrate Easter according to the Jewish calendar is reversed for the same reason (v. 17); and when his source mentions a lull in persecution, he innocently states that the Romans have now stopped persecuting and have adopted Christianity (vi. 26), completely forgetting that he is speaking as the apostles. Most importantly, he both elevates the overall role of the Christian ministry and alters the details of what is said about it (for example, the deaconess loses considerable rank) to align with the general circumstances of his time and his own views of appropriateness. This is where his evidence is both highly valuable and requires careful handling. To give one clear example of the value of these documents: The Canones Hippolyti (vi. 43) states that someone who has been a confessor for the faith may be received as a presbyter due to their confessorship, not through the bishop's laying on of hands; however, if chosen as a bishop, they are to be ordained. This provision is carried over into the Egyptian Ecclesiastical Canons and other related documents, and even into the Testamentum Domini. But the corresponding passage in the Apostolical Constitutions (viii. 23) completely reverses this: “A confessor is not ordained, for he is one by choice and endurance, and is deserving of great honor.... But if necessary, he is to be ordained as either a bishop, priest, or deacon. If any confessors who are not ordained try to claim such a position because of their confession, let them be removed and rejected; for they do not belong to such an office, since they have denied the constitution of Christ and are worse than an unbeliever.”

Who, then, is the author of the Constitutions, and what can be inferred with regard to him? (i.) By separating off the sources which he used from his own additions to them, it at once becomes clear that the latter are the work of one Authorship, place, and date. man: the style is unmistakable, and the method of working is the same throughout. The compiler of books i.-vi. is also the compiler of books vii., viii. (ii.) As to his theological position, different views have been held. Funk suggests Apollinarianism, which is the refuge of the destitute; and Achelis inclines in the same direction. But the affinities of the author are quite otherwise, the most pronounced of them being a strong subordinationist tendency, denial of a human 201 soul to Christ, and the like, which suggest not indeed Arianism but an inclination towards Arianism. Above all, his polemic is directed against the dying heresies of the 3rd century; and he writes with an absence of constraint which is not the language of one who lives amidst violent controversies or who is conscious of being in a minority. All this points to the position of a “conservative” or semi-Arian of the East, one who belongs, perhaps, to the circle of Lucian of Antioch and writes before the time of Julian. It is hard to think of any other time or circumstances in which a man could write like this, (iii.) The indications of time have been held to point to a different conclusion. On the one hand, the fact that the attempt to rebuild the temple by Julian in 363 is not mentioned in vi. 24 points to an earlier date; and the fact that the κοπιᾶται are not mentioned amongst the church officers points in the same direction, for elsewhere they are first mentioned in a rescript of Constantius in A.D. 357. On the other hand, in the cycle of feasts occur the names of several which are probably of later date—e.g. Christmas and St Stephen, which were introduced at Antioch c. A.D. 378 and 379 respectively. Again, Epiphanius (c. A.D. 374) appears to be unacquainted with it; he still quotes from the Didascalia, and elaborately explains it away where it is contrary to the usages of his own day. But as regards the former point, it is possible that the Apostolical Constitutions constantly gave rise to these festivals; or, on the other hand, that the two passages were subsequently introduced either by the writer himself or by some other hand, when the last book of the Constitutions was being used as a law-book. And as regards the latter, the fact that Epiphanius does not use the Constitutions is no proof that they had not yet been compiled. (iv.) As to the region of composition there is no real doubt. It was clearly the East, Syria or Palestine. Many indications are against the latter, and Syria is strongly suggested by the use of the Syro-Macedonian calendar. Moreover, the writer represents the Roman Clement as the channel of communication between the apostles and the Church. This fact both supplies him with the name by which he is commonly known, Pseudo-Clement, and also furnishes corroboration of his Syrian birth; since the other spurious writings bearing the name of Clement, the Homilies and Recognitions, are likewise of Syrian origin. Moreover, the spurious Ignatian epistles, which are also Syrian, depend throughout upon the Constitutions, (v.) But this is not all. It was long ago noticed that Pseudo-Clement bears a very close resemblance to Pseudo-Ignatius, the interpolator of the Ignatian Epistles in the longer Greek recension. Usher, as we have seen, identified them, and modern criticism accepts this identification as a fact (Lagarde, Harnack, Funk, Brightman). Lightfoot, indeed, still hesitated (Ap. Fathers, II. i. 266 n.) on the ground that Pseudo-Ignatius occasionally misunderstands the Constitutions, that the two writings give the Roman succession differently, and that Pseudo-Clement shows no knowledge of the Christological controversies of Nicaea. But as regards the first of these, it is rather a case of condensed citation than of misinterpretation; the second is explained by the writer’s carelessness as shown in other passages, and all are solved if a considerable interval of time elapsed between the compilation of the Constitutions and the spurious Ignatian epistles.

Who, then, is the author of the Constitutions, and what can we infer about him? (i.) By separating the sources he used from his own additions, it becomes clear that the latter are the work of one person: the style is unmistakable, and the method is consistent throughout. The compiler of books i.-vi. is also the compiler of books vii. and viii. (ii.) Regarding his theological stance, there are different opinions. Funk suggests Apollinarianism, which is a fallback for the desperate; Achelis leans in the same direction. However, the author's affinities are quite different, with a strong subordinationist tendency, denial of a human soul to Christ, and the like, suggesting not Arianism itself but a leaning towards it. Above all, his polemic is directed against the fading heresies of the 3rd century; he writes without the constraints of someone surrounded by fierce controversies or feeling like a minority. All of this indicates that he occupies the position of a “conservative” or semi-Arian from the East, possibly belonging to the circle of Lucian of Antioch and writing before Julian's time. It's hard to imagine any other time or circumstances in which someone could write like this. (iii.) The indications of time have led some to draw different conclusions. On one hand, the fact that Julian's attempt to rebuild the temple in 363 isn't mentioned in vi. 24 points to an earlier date; likewise, the absence of the works hard among church officers supports this, as they are first mentioned in a rescript by Constantius in CE 357. On the other hand, several feast names, likely of later origin—such as Christmas and St. Stephen, which were introduced in Antioch around A.D. 378 and 379 respectively—appear in the cycle of feasts. Additionally, Epiphanius (around CE 374) seems unaware of it; he still quotes from the Didascalia and elaborately explains it away when it contradicts the practices of his day. However, regarding the first point, it’s possible that the Apostolic Constitutions frequently inspired these festivals; or alternatively, those references might have been added later by the author or another individual when the final book of the Constitutions was being used as a legal text. Concerning the latter, the fact that Epiphanius does not reference the Constitutions does not prove they hadn’t been compiled yet. (iv.) As for the region of composition, there’s little doubt. It was clearly the East, either Syria or Palestine. Many indicators lean against the latter, with Syria being strongly suggested by the use of the Syro-Macedonian calendar. Moreover, the writer presents Roman Clement as the link between the apostles and the Church. This fact gives him the name he is commonly known by, Pseudo-Clement, and also supports his Syrian origin, since other spurious writings attributed to Clement, the Homilies and Recognitions, also originate from Syria. Likewise, the spurious Ignatian epistles, which also come from Syria, rely heavily on the Constitutions. (v.) But that’s not all. It was previously noted that Pseudo-Clement bears a close resemblance to Pseudo-Ignatius, the interpolator of the Ignatian Epistles in the longer Greek version. Usher, as we have seen, identified them, and modern criticism generally accepts this identification as fact (Lagarde, Harnack, Funk, Brightman). Lightfoot, indeed, hesitated (Ap. Fathers, II. i. 266 n.) because Pseudo-Ignatius occasionally misinterprets the Constitutions, the two writings detail the Roman succession differently, and Pseudo-Clement shows no awareness of the Christological controversies of Nicaea. However, regarding the first of these, it’s more about condensed citation than misinterpretation; the second can be explained by the author's carelessness noted in other instances, and all these issues could be resolved if a significant time gap existed between the compilation of the Constitutions and the spurious Ignatian epistles.

It seems clear then that the compiler was a Syrian, and that he also wrote the spurious Ignatian epistles; he was likewise probably a semi-Arian of the school of Lucian of Antioch. His date is given by Harnack as A.D. 340-360, with a leaning to 340-343; by Lightfoot as the latter half of the 4th century; by Brightman, 370-380; by Maclean, 375; and by Funk as the beginning of the 5th century.

It seems clear that the compiler was from Syria and that he also wrote the fake Ignatian letters. He was likely a semi-Arian from the school of Lucian of Antioch. Harnack dates him to A.D. 340-360, leaning towards 340-343; Lightfoot places him in the latter half of the 4th century; Brightman suggests 370-380; Maclean indicates 375; and Funk says the beginning of the 5th century.

Authorities.—W. Ueltzen, Constitutiones Apostolicae (Schwerin, 1853); P.A. de Lagarde, Didascalia Apostolorum Syriace (Leipz., 1854); Constitutiones Apostolorum (Leipz. and Lond., 1862); M.D. Gibson, Didascalia Apost. Syriace, with Eng. trans. (Horae Semiticae, i. and ii., Cambridge, 1903); J.B. Pitra, Juris Ecclesiastici Graecorum Historia et Monumenta, i. (Rome, 1864); Hauler, Didascaliae Apostolorum Fragmenta Ueronensia Latina, (Leipzig, 1900); Bickell, Geschichte des Kirchenrechts, i. (Giessen, 1843); F.X. Funk, Die apostolischen Konstitutionen (Rottenb., 1891); A. Harnack, Geschichte d. altchristl. Litteratur, i. 515 ff. (Leipz., 1893); F.E. Brightman, Liturgies Eastern and Western, I. xvii. ff. (Oxford, 1896); H. Achelis, in Hauck’s Realencyklopadie, i. 734 f., art. “Apostolische Konstitutionen und Kanones” (Leipz., 1896); A.S. Maclean, Recent Discoveries illustrating Early Christian Worship (Lond., 1904); J. Wordsworth, The Ministry of Grace, pp. 18 ff; J.P. Arendzen, “The Apostolic Church Order” (Syriac Text, Eng. trans. and notes) in Journ. of Theol. Studies, iii. 59. Trans. of Apost. Constitutions, book viii., in Ante-Nicene Christian Library.

Authorities.—W. Ueltzen, Apostolic Constitutions (Schwerin, 1853); P.A. de Lagarde, Didascalia Apostolorum in Syriac (Leipzig, 1854); Apostolic Constitutions (Leipzig and London, 1862); M.D. Gibson, Didascalia Apost. in Syriac, with English translation (Horae Semiticae, vol. i and ii, Cambridge, 1903); J.B. Pitra, History and Monuments of Greek Ecclesiastical Law, vol. i (Rome, 1864); Hauler, Latin Fragments of the Didascaliae Apostolorum (Leipzig, 1900); Bickell, History of Church Law, vol. i (Giessen, 1843); F.X. Funk, The Apostolic Constitutions (Rottenburg, 1891); A. Harnack, History of Early Christian Literature, vol. i, pp. 515 and following (Leipzig, 1893); F.E. Brightman, Eastern and Western Liturgies, vol. I, pp. xvii and following (Oxford, 1896); H. Achelis, in Hauck’s Realencyclopädie, vol. i, pp. 734 and following, article “Apostolic Constitutions and Canons” (Leipzig, 1896); A.S. Maclean, Recent Discoveries Illumining Early Christian Worship (London, 1904); J. Wordsworth, The Ministry of Grace, pp. 18 and following; J.P. Arendzen, “The Apostolic Church Order” (Syriac Text, English translation, and notes) in Journal of Theological Studies, vol. iii, p. 59. Translation of Apostolic Constitutions, book viii., in Ante-Nicene Christian Library.

(W. E. Co.)

1 Why he did not go on to give the remaining thirty-five is not clear; they belong to the same date as, and are not inferior to, the first fifty.

1 It's unclear why he didn't continue to provide the other thirty-five; they are from the same date and are just as good as the first fifty.

2 At a later date various collections were made of the documents above mentioned, or some of them, to serve as law-books in different churches—e.g. the Syrian Octateuch, the Egyptian Heptateuch, and the Ethiopic Sīnōdōs. These, however, stand on an entirely different footing, since they are simply collections of existing documents, and no attempt is made to claim apostolic authorship for them.

2 Later on, various collections were put together from the documents mentioned above, or some of them, to be used as law books in different churches—e.g. the Syrian Octateuch, the Egyptian Heptateuch, and the Ethiopic Sīnōdōs. However, these collections are entirely different since they are just compilations of existing documents, and there's no effort to assert apostolic authorship for them.


APOSTOLIC CANONS, a collection of eighty-five rules for the regulation of clerical life, appended to the eighth book of the Apostolical Constitutions (q.v.). They are couched in brief legislative form though on no definite plan, and deal with the vexed questions of ecclesiastical discipline as they were raised towards the end of the 4th century. At least half of the canons are derived from earlier constitutions, and probably not many of them are the actual productions of the compiler, whose aim was to gloss over the real nature of the Constitutions, and secure their incorporation with the Epistles of Clement in the New Testament of his day. The Codex Alexandrinus does indeed append the Clementine Epistles to its text of the New Testament. The Canons may be a little later in date than the preceding Constitutions, but they are evidently from the same Syrian theological circle.

APOSTOLIC CANONS, is a collection of eighty-five rules for managing clerical life, added to the eighth book of the Apostolical Constitutions (q.v.). They are presented in a concise legislative style without a clear structure and address the challenging issues of church discipline that arose towards the end of the 4th century. At least half of the canons come from earlier writings, and it’s likely that not many of them were actually written by the compiler, whose purpose was to obscure the true nature of the Constitutions and ensure their inclusion with the Epistles of Clement in the contemporary New Testament. The Codex Alexandrinus indeed includes the Clementine Epistles alongside its text of the New Testament. The Canons may be slightly later than the preceding Constitutions, but they are clearly from the same Syrian theological community.


APOSTOLIC FATHERS, a term used to distinguish those early Christian writers who were believed to have been the personal associates of the original Apostles. While the title “Fathers” was given from at least the beginning of the 4th century to church writers of former days, as being the parents of Christian belief and thought for later times, the expression “Apostolic Fathers” dates only from the latter part of the 17th century. The idea of recognizing these “Fathers” as a special group exists already in the title “Patres aevi apostolici, sive SS. Patrum qui temporibus apostolicis floruerunt ... opera,” under which in 1672 J.B. Cotelier published at Paris the writings current under the names of Barnabas, Clement of Rome, Hermas, Ignatius and Polycarp. But the name itself is due to their next editor, Thomas Ittig (1643-1710), in his Bibliotheca Patrum Apostolicorum (1699), who, however, included under this title only Clement, Ignatius and Polycarp. Here already appears the doubt as to how many writers can claim the title, a doubt which has continued ever since, and makes the contents of the “Apostolic Fathers” differ so much from editor to editor. Thus the Oratorian Andrea Gallandi (1700-1779), in re-issuing Cotelier’s collection in his Bibliotheca Veterum Patrum (1765-1781), included the fragments of Papias and the Epistle to Diognetus, to which recent editors have added the citations from the “Elders” of Papias’s day found in Irenaeus and, since 1883, the Didachē.

APOSTOLIC FATHERS, is a term used to refer to the early Christian writers believed to have been personal associates of the original Apostles. While the title “Fathers” has been used since at least the early 4th century to describe earlier church writers as the founders of Christian belief and thought for future generations, the term “Apostolic Fathers” only came into use in the late 17th century. The concept of grouping these “Fathers” together is already present in the title “Patres aevi apostolici, sive SS. Patrum qui temporibus apostolicis floruerunt ... opera,” under which J.B. Cotelier published the writings attributed to Barnabas, Clement of Rome, Hermas, Ignatius, and Polycarp in Paris in 1672. However, the name itself was given by their next editor, Thomas Ittig (1643-1710), in his Bibliotheca Patrum Apostolicorum (1699), although he only included Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp under this title. This already raises the question of how many writers can rightfully claim the title, a question that has persisted ever since, causing the contents of the “Apostolic Fathers” to vary significantly from one editor to another. For example, the Oratorian Andrea Gallandi (1700-1779), while reissuing Cotelier’s collection in his Bibliotheca Veterum Patrum (1765-1781), included the fragments of Papias and the Epistle to Diognetus, while recent editors have added citations from the “Elders” from Papias’s time found in Irenaeus and, since 1883, the Didachē.

The degree of historic claim which these various writings have to rank as the works1 of Apostolic Fathers varies greatly on any definition of “apostolic.” Originally the epithet was meant to be taken strictly, viz. as denoting those whom history could show to have been personally connected, or at least coeval, with one or more apostles; and an effort was made, as by Cotelier, to distinguish the writings rightly and wrongly assigned to such. Thus editions tended to vary with the historical views of editors. But the convenience of the category “Apostolic Fathers” to express not only those who might possibly have had some sort of direct contact with apostles—such as “Barnabas,” Clement, Ignatius, Papias, Polycarp—but also those who seemed specially to preserve the pure tradition of apostolic doctrine during the sub-apostolic age, has led to its general use in a wide and vague sense.

The historic significance of these various writings as the works1 of the Apostolic Fathers varies a lot depending on how we define “apostolic.” Originally, the term was meant to be taken literally, referring to those whom history can show were personally connected to or lived around the time of one or more apostles. Efforts, like those by Cotelier, were made to differentiate between writings that were correctly and incorrectly assigned to them. As a result, editions often changed based on the historical perspectives of the editors. However, the convenience of the term “Apostolic Fathers” has led to its common use to describe not only those who may have had some direct contact with apostles—like “Barnabas,” Clement, Ignatius, Papias, Polycarp—but also those who seemed to particularly preserve the authentic tradition of apostolic doctrine during the time after the apostles.

Conventionally, then, the title denotes the group of writings which, whether in date or in internal character, are regarded as belonging to the main stream of the Church’s teaching during the period between the Apostles and the Apologists (i.e. to c. A.D. 140). Or to put it more exactly, the “Apostolic Fathers” represent, chronologically in the main and still more from the religious and theological standpoint, the momentous process of 202 transition from the type of teaching in the New Testament to that which meets us in the early Catholic Fathers, from the last quarter of the 2nd century onwards. The Apologists no doubt show us certain fresh factors entering into this development; but on the whole the Apostolic Fathers by themselves go a long way to explain the transition in question, so far as knowledge of this saeculum obscurum is within our reach at all. It is true that they do not include the whole even of the ecclesiastical literature of the sub-apostolic age, not to mention what remains of Gnostic and other minority types. The Preaching and Apocalypse of Peter, for instance, are quite typical of the same period, and help us to read between the lines of the Apostolic Fathers. Yet they do not really add much to what is there already, and they have the drawbacks of pseudonymity; they lack concrete and personal qualities; they are general expressions of tendencies which we cannot well locate or measure, save by means of the Apostolic Fathers themselves or of their earliest Catholic successors.

Traditionally, the title refers to the collection of writings that are considered to be part of the main body of the Church’s teachings during the time between the Apostles and the Apologists (i.e., until around A.D. 140). More specifically, the “Apostolic Fathers” mainly represent, both chronologically and particularly from a religious and theological perspective, the significant shift from the type of teaching found in the New Testament to that which is seen in the early Catholic Fathers from the last quarter of the 2nd century onward. The Apologists certainly introduce some new elements into this development; however, the Apostolic Fathers alone provide a substantial explanation of this transition, as far as our understanding of this dark period is concerned. It's true that they do not encompass the entirety of the ecclesiastical literature from the sub-apostolic age, not to mention what remains of Gnostic and other minority writings. The *Preaching and Apocalypse* of Peter, for example, are quite representative of that same period and help us interpret the Apostolic Fathers more deeply. However, they don't add much to what is already present, and they come with the drawbacks of being pseudonymous; they lack distinct and personal traits and are general expressions of trends that we can only roughly identify or measure using the writings of the Apostolic Fathers themselves or their earliest Catholic successors.

(A) In external features the group is far from homogeneous, a fact which has led to their being disintegrated as a group in certain histories of early Christian literature (e.g. those of Harnack and Krüger), and classed each under its own literary type—so sacrificing to outer form, which is quite secondary in primitive Christian writings, the more significant fact of religious affinity. Its original members, those still best entitled to their name in any strict sense, are epistles, and in this respect also most akin to Apostolic writings. Indeed Ignatius takes pleasure in saluting his readers “after the apostolic stamp” (ad Troll. inscr.), while yet disclaiming all desire to emulate the apostolic manner in other respects, being fully conscious of the gulf between himself and apostles like Peter and Paul in claim to authority (ib. in. 3, ad Rom. iv. 3). The like holds of Polycarp, who, in explaining that he writes to exhort the Philippians only at their own request, adds, “for neither am I, nor is any other like me, able to follow the wisdom of the blessed and glorious Paul” (in. 2). Clement’s epistle, indeed, conforms more to the elaborate and treatise-like form of the Epistle to the Hebrews, on which it draws so largely; and the same is true of “Barnabas.” But one and all are influenced by study of apostolic epistles, and witness to the impression which these produced on the men of the next generation. Unconsciously, too, they correspond to the apostolic type of writing in another respect, viz. their occasional and practical character. They are evoked by pressing needs of the hour among some definite body of Christians and not by any literary motive.2 This is a universal trait of primitive Christian writings; so that to speak of primitive Christian “literature” at all is hardly accurate, and tends to an artificial handling of their contents. These sub-apostolic epistles are veritable “human documents,” with the personal note running through them. They are after all personal expressions of Christianity, in which are discernible also specific types of local tradition. To such spontaneous actuality a large part of their interest and value is due.

(A) In external features, the group is far from uniform, which has led to them being fragmented as a group in some histories of early Christian literature (e.g. those by Harnack and Krüger), with each being classified under its own literary type—thus sacrificing the more significant fact of religious affinity for outer form, which is quite secondary in primitive Christian writings. Its original members, those still most deserving of the name in a strict sense, are letters, and in this aspect, they are most similar to Apostolic writings. Indeed, Ignatius enjoys greeting his readers “after the apostolic style” (ad Troll. inscr.), while also stating that he does not wish to imitate the apostolic way in other respects, being fully aware of the distance between himself and apostles like Peter and Paul in terms of authority (ib. in. 3, ad Rom. iv. 3). The same applies to Polycarp, who, while clarifying that he writes to encourage the Philippians only at their own request, adds, “for neither am I, nor is anyone else like me, able to follow the wisdom of the blessed and glorious Paul” (in. 2). Clement’s letter, in fact, fits more closely with the elaborate and treatise-like style of the Epistle to the Hebrews, which it heavily draws upon; and the same is true of “Barnabas.” But they are all influenced by the study of apostolic letters, and they reflect the impact these had on the next generation of men. Unconsciously, they also align with the apostolic type of writing in another way, namely their occasional and practical nature. They arise from the urgent needs of the moment among a specific group of Christians and not from any literary intention.2 This is a common characteristic of primitive Christian writings; thus, referring to primitive Christian “literature” at all is hardly accurate and tends to result in an artificial treatment of their contents. These sub-apostolic letters are genuine “human documents,” with a personal touch running through them. They are, after all, personal expressions of Christianity, in which specific types of local tradition can also be discerned. A significant part of their interest and value comes from this spontaneous reality.

Nor is this pre-literary and vital quality really absent even from the writing which is least entitled to a place among “Apostolic Fathers,” the Epistle to Diognetus. This beautiful picture of the Christian life as a realized ideal, and of Christians as “the soul” of the world, owes its inclusion to a double error: first, to the accidental attachment at the end of another fragment (§ ii), which opens with the writer’s claim to stand forth as a teacher as being “a disciple of apostles”; and next, to mistaken exegesis of this phrase as implying personal relations with apostles, rather than knowledge of their teaching, written or oral. Whether in form addressed to Diognetus, the tutor of Marcus Aurelius, as a typical cultured observer of Christianity, or to some other eminent person of the same name in the locality of its origin, or, as seems more likely, to cultured Greeks generally, personified under the significant name “Diognetus” (“Heaven-born,” of. Acts xvii. 28 along with § iii. 4)—the epistle is in any case an “open letter” of an essentially literary type. Further, its opening seems modelled on the lines of the preface to Luke’s Gospel, to which, along with Acts, it may owe something of its very conception as a reasoned appeal to the lover of truth. But while literary in form and conception, its appeal is in spirit so personal a testimony to what the Gospel has done for the writer and his fellow Christians, that it is akin to the piety of the Apostolic Fathers as a group. It is true that it has marked affinities, e.g. in its natural theology, with the earliest Apologists, Aristides and Justin, even as it is itself in substance an apology addressed not to the State, but to thoughtful public opinion. But this only means that we cannot draw a hard and fast line between groups of early Christian writings at a time when practical religious interests overshadowed all others.

This essential, life-filled quality isn't really missing even from the least deserving writing among the “Apostolic Fathers,” the Epistle to Diognetus. This beautiful depiction of the Christian life as a realized ideal, and of Christians as “the soul” of the world, is included due to a couple of errors: first, because of an accidental attachment at the end of another fragment (§ ii), which begins with the author’s claim to present himself as a teacher because he is “a disciple of apostles”; and next, due to a misunderstanding of this phrase suggesting personal relationships with apostles, rather than knowledge of their teachings, whether written or oral. Whether it's directed to Diognetus, the tutor of Marcus Aurelius, as a typical cultured observer of Christianity, or to another prominent person of the same name in the area where it originated, or, as seems more likely, to cultured Greeks in general, personified under the significant name “Diognetus” (“Heaven-born,” cf. Acts xvii. 28 along with § iii. 4)—the epistle is definitely an “open letter” of a distinctly literary nature. Moreover, its opening appears to be modeled after the preface to Luke’s Gospel, from which, along with Acts, it may have drawn some of its ideas as a reasoned appeal to the truth-seeker. Yet, while it's literary in form and conception, its appeal is profoundly personal, showcasing what the Gospel has meant for the writer and his fellow Christians, making it similar in spirit to the piety of the Apostolic Fathers as a group. It's true that it has notable similarities, e.g. in its natural theology, with the earliest Apologists, Aristides and Justin, although it itself is essentially an apology directed not to the State, but to thoughtful public opinion. But this only indicates that we can't clearly separate groups of early Christian writings at a time when practical religious interests dominated all others.

If thus related to the Apologists of the middle of the 2nd century, the Epistle to Diognetus has also points of contact with one of the most practical and least literary writings found among our Apostolic Fathers, viz. the homily originally known as the Second Epistle of Clement (for this ascription, as for other details, see Clementine Literature). The recovery of its concluding sections in the same MS. which brought the Didachē to light, proves beyond question that we have here the earliest extant sermon preached before a Christian congregation, about A.D. 120-140 (so J.B. Lightfoot). Its opening section, recalling to its hearers the passing of the mists of idolatry before the revelation in Jesus Christ, is markedly similar in tone and tenor to passages in the Epistle to Diognetus. Far closer, however, are the affinities between the homily and the Shepherd of Hermas, “the first Christian allegory,” which as a literary whole dates from about A.D. 140, but probably represents a more or less prolonged prophetic activity on the part of its author, the brother of Pius, the Roman bishop of his day (c. 139-154). In both the primary theme is repentance, as called for by serious sins, after baptism has placed the Christian on his new and higher level of responsibility. Thus both are hortatory writings, the one argumentative in form, the other prophetic, after the manner of later Old Testament prophets whose messages came in visions and similitudes. This prophetic and apocalyptic note, which characterizes Hermas among the Apostolic Fathers (though there are traces of it also in the Didachē and in Ignatius, ad Eph. xx.), is a genuinely primitive trait and goes far to explain the vogue which the Shepherd enjoyed in the generations immediately succeeding, as also the influence of its disciplinary policy, which is its prophetic “burden” (see Hermas, Shepherd of).

If related to the Apologists of the mid-2nd century, the Epistle to Diognetus also shares connections with one of the most practical and least literary writings among our Apostolic Fathers, namely the homily originally known as the Second Epistle of Clement (for this attribution, as well as other details, see Clementine Literature). The recovery of its concluding sections in the same manuscript that revealed the Didachē confirms that we have the earliest known sermon delivered to a Christian congregation, around CE 120-140 (according to J.B. Lightfoot). Its opening section, reminding the audience of the fading of idolatry in light of the revelation in Jesus Christ, is strikingly similar in tone and message to passages in the Epistle to Diognetus. However, the connections between the homily and the Shepherd of Hermas, “the first Christian allegory,” are much closer. This work as a whole is from around CE 140 but likely reflects ongoing prophetic activity from its author, the brother of Pius, the Roman bishop of that time (c. 139-154). In both texts, the primary theme is repentance in response to serious sins after baptism has placed the Christian on a new, higher level of responsibility. Thus, both are exhortative writings; one is argumentative in form while the other is prophetic, resembling the later Old Testament prophets whose messages came in visions and symbols. This prophetic and apocalyptic tone, which characterizes Hermas among the Apostolic Fathers (though traces are also found in the Didachē and in Ignatius, ad Eph. xx.), is genuinely primitive and helps explain the popularity the Shepherd enjoyed in the generations that followed, as well as the impact of its disciplinary messages, which form its prophetic “burden” (see Hermas, Shepherd of).

We come finally to the anonymous Teaching of the Twelve Apostles and Papias’s Exposition of Oracles of the Lord, so far as this is known to us. The former, besides embodying catechetical instruction in Christian conduct (the “Two Ways”), which goes back in substance to the early apostolic age and is embodied also in “Barnabas,” depicts in outline the fundamental usages of church life as practised in some conservative region (probably within Syria) about the last quarter of the 1st century and perhaps even later. The whole is put forth as substantially the apostolic teaching (Didachē) on the subjects in question. This is probably a bona fide claim. It expresses the feeling common to the Apostolic Fathers and general in the sub-apostolic age, at any rate in regions where apostles had once laboured, that local tradition, as held by the recognized church leaders, did but continue apostolic doctrine and practice. Into later developments of this feeling an increasing element of illusion entered, and all other written embodiments of it known to us take the form of literary fictions, more or less bold. It is in contrast to these that the Didachē is justly felt to be genuinely primitive and of a piece with the Apostolic Fathers. Thus while its form would by analogy tend per se to awaken suspicion, its contents remove this feeling; and we may even infer from this surviving early formulation of local ecclesiastical tradition, that others of somewhat similar character came into being in the sub-apostolic age, but failed to survive save as embodied in later local teaching, oral or written, very much as if the Didachē had perished and its literary offspring alone remained (see Didachē).

We finally arrive at the anonymous Teaching of the Twelve Apostles and Papias’s Exposition of Oracles of the Lord, as much as we know. The former, in addition to providing instruction on Christian conduct (the “Two Ways”), which dates back to the early apostolic age and is also found in “Barnabas,” outlines the basic practices of church life as observed in a conservative area (probably in Syria) around the last quarter of the 1st century and perhaps even later. It presents itself as an authentic expression of apostolic teaching (Didachē) on these subjects. This claim is likely genuine. It reflects the common sentiment of the Apostolic Fathers and the broader sub-apostolic age, especially in regions where apostles once worked, that local tradition, as upheld by recognized church leaders, continued the teachings and practices of the apostles. However, in later developments of this sentiment, there was an increasing element of illusion, and all other written forms of it known to us tend to be literary fabrications, varying in boldness. In contrast to these, the Didachē is rightly regarded as genuinely primitive and in alignment with the Apostolic Fathers. Thus, while its form might naturally raise suspicion, its content dispels that feeling; and we can even infer from this surviving early version of local ecclesiastical tradition that others of a similar nature emerged in the sub-apostolic age but did not survive except as incorporated into later local teachings, whether oral or written, much like if the Didachē had been lost and only its literary descendants remained (see Didachē).

As regards Papias’s Exposition, which Lightfoot describes 203 as “among the earliest forerunners of commentaries, partly explanatory, partly illustrative, on portions of the New Testament,” we need here only remark that, whatever its exact form may have been—as to which the extant fragments still leave room for doubt—it was in conception expository of the historic meaning of Christ’s more ambiguous Sayings, viewed in the light of definitely ascertained apostolic traditions bearing on the subject. The like is true also of the fragments of the Elders preserved in Irenaeus (so far as these do not really come from Papias). Both bodies of exposition represent the traditional principle at work in the sub-apostolic age, making for the preservation in relative purity, over against merely subjective interpretations—those of the Gnostics in particular—of the historic or original sense of Christ’s teaching, just as Ignatius stood for the historicity of the facts of His earthly career in their plain, natural sense.

Regarding Papias’s Exposition, which Lightfoot describes as “one of the earliest forms of commentary, partly explanatory and partly illustrative, on sections of the New Testament,” we just need to note that, no matter what its exact form might have been—about which the surviving fragments still leave some uncertainty—it was fundamentally an explanation of the historical meaning of Christ’s more obscure sayings, viewed through the lens of well-established apostolic traditions related to the topic. The same applies to the fragments of the Elders preserved in Irenaeus (as long as these don’t actually come from Papias). Both sets of commentary reflect the traditional approach at work during the sub-apostolic period, aiming to maintain the original understanding of Christ’s teachings in its relatively pure form, as opposed to merely subjective interpretations—especially those of the Gnostics—just as Ignatius emphasized the historical facts of His earthly life in their clear, natural sense.

(B) Here the question of external form passes readily over into that of the internal character and spirit. Indeed much has already been said or suggested bearing on these. The relation of these writers to the apostolic teaching generally has become pretty evident. It is one of absolute loyalty and deference, as to the teaching of inspiration. They are conscious, as are we in reading them, that they are not moving on the same level of insight as the Apostles; they are sub-apostolic in that sense also. Hence there appear constant traces of study of the Apostolic writings, so far as these were accessible in the locality of each writer at his date of writing (for the details of this subject, and its bearing on the history of the Canonical Scriptures of the New Testament, see The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers, Oxford, 1905). As Lightfoot points out (Apostolic Fathers, pt. i. vol. i. p. 7), however, personality, with its variety of temperament and emphasis, largely colours the Apostolic Fathers, especially the primary group. Clement has all the Roman feeling for duly constituted order and discipline; Ignatius has the Syrian or semi-oriental passion of devotion, showing itself at once in his mystic love for his Lord and his over-strained yearning to become His very “disciple” by drinking the like cup of martyrdom; Polycarp is, above all things, steady in his allegiance to what had first won his conscience and heart, and his “passive and receptive character” comes out in the contents of his epistle. Of the rest, whose personalities are less known to us, Papias shares Polycarp’s qualities and their limitations, the anonymous homilist and Hermas are marked by intense moral earnestness, while the writer to Diognetus joins to this a profound religious insight. These personal traits determine by selective affinity, working under conditions given by the special local type of tradition and piety, the elements in the Apostolic writings which each was able to assimilate and express—though we must allow also for variety in the occasions of writing. Thus one New Testament type is echoed in one and another in another; or it may be several in turn. The latter is the case in Clement, Ignatius and Polycarp; perhaps also in “Barnabas.” In Hermas there is special affinity to the language and thought of the epistle of James, and in the homilist to those of Paul. Yet their very use of the same terms or ideas makes us the more aware of “a marked contrast to the depth and clearness of conception with which the several Apostolic writers place before us different aspects of the Gospel” (Lightfoot). While Apostolic phrases are used, the sense behind them is often different and less evangelic. They have not caught the Apostolic meaning, because they have not penetrated to the full religious experience which gave to the words, often words with long and varied history both in the Septuagint and in ordinary Greek usage, their specific meaning to each apostle and especially to Paul. This phenomenon was noted particularly by E. Reuss, in his Histoire de la théologie chrétienne an siècle apostolique (3rd ed., 1864). Take for instance Clement. Lightfoot, indeed, dwells on the all-round “comprehensiveness” with which Clement, as the mouthpiece of the early Roman Church, utters in succession phrases or ideas borrowed impartially from Peter and Paul and James and the Epistle to Hebrews. He admits, however, that such mere co-ordination of the language of Paul and James, for instance, as appears in his twice bracketing “faith and hospitality” as grounds of acceptance with God (the cases are those of Abraham and Rahab, in chs. x. and xii.), is “from a strictly dogmatic point of view” his weakness. But the weakness is more than a dogmatic one; it is one of religious experience, as the source of spiritual insight. It is not merely that “there is no dogmatic system in Clement” or in any other of the Apostolic Fathers; that may favour, not hinder, religious insight. There is a want of depth in Christian experience, in the power of realizing relative spiritual values in the light of the master principle involved in the distinctively Christian consciousness, such as could raise Clement above a verbal eclecticism, rather than comprehensiveness, in the use of Apostolic language. As R.W. Dale remarks, in a note on Reuss’s too severe words (Eng. trans. ii. 295): “The vital force of the Apostolic convictions gave to Apostolic thought a certain organic and consistent form.” It is lack of this organic quality in the thought, not only of Clement but also of the Apostolic Fathers generally—with the possible exception of Ignatius, who seems to share the Apostolic experience more fully than any other, to which Reuss rightly directs attention. In virtue of this defect, due largely to the failure to enter into the Apostolic experience of mystic union with Christ, he can rightly speak of “an immense retrogression” in theology visible “at the end of the century, and in circles where it might have been least expected” (ii. p. 294, cf. 541).

(B) Here the question of external form easily shifts to that of the internal character and spirit. In fact, much has already been said or suggested about these. The relationship of these writers to the apostolic teaching is pretty clear. It reflects absolute loyalty and respect for the teaching of inspiration. They are aware, as we are when we read them, that they are not operating on the same level of insight as the Apostles; they are sub-apostolic in that sense as well. Therefore, there are constant signs of study of the Apostolic writings, as far as these were accessible in the writers' locations at the time of writing (for details on this topic and its impact on the history of the Canonical Scriptures of the New Testament, see The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers, Oxford, 1905). As Lightfoot points out (Apostolic Fathers, pt. i. vol. i. p. 7), however, personality, with its variety of temperament and emphasis, significantly colors the Apostolic Fathers, especially the primary group. Clement embodies the Roman appreciation for established order and discipline; Ignatius expresses the Syrian or semi-oriental passion of devotion, which manifests in his mystical love for his Lord and his intense longing to become His true “disciple” by sharing in the same cup of martyrdom; Polycarp is, above all, steadfast in his loyalty to what initially won his conscience and heart, and his “passive and receptive character” comes through in the content of his letter. Of the others, whose personalities we know less about, Papias shares Polycarp’s qualities and their limitations, the anonymous homilist and Hermas showcase intense moral seriousness, while the writer to Diognetus adds to this a profound religious insight. These personal traits influence the elements in the Apostolic writings that each could assimilate and express, shaped by the unique local traditions and piety—even though we must also account for the variety in the circumstances of writing. Thus, one New Testament type is echoed in one writer and another type in someone else; or it may be several types over time. The latter applies to Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp; possibly also to “Barnabas.” In Hermas, there’s a special affinity to the language and thought of the Epistle of James, and in the homilist to those of Paul. However, their very use of similar terms or ideas heightens our awareness of “a marked contrast to the depth and clarity of understanding with which the various Apostolic writers present different aspects of the Gospel” (Lightfoot). While Apostolic phrases are employed, the underlying meaning is often different and less evangelic. They haven't grasped the Apostolic message because they haven't experienced the full religious depth that gave those words—often words with a long and varied history both in the Septuagint and in ordinary Greek usage—their specific meanings to each apostle, especially to Paul. This phenomenon was particularly noted by E. Reuss in his Histoire de la théologie chrétienne an siècle apostolique (3rd ed., 1864). Take, for example, Clement. Lightfoot emphasizes the all-around “comprehensiveness” with which Clement, as the voice of the early Roman Church, sequentially expresses phrases or concepts drawn impartially from Peter, Paul, James, and the Epistle to the Hebrews. He does acknowledge, however, that this mere coordination of Paul and James' language, as seen in his mentions of “faith and hospitality” as grounds for acceptance with God (referring to Abraham and Rahab in chs. x. and xii.), is “from a strictly dogmatic standpoint” his weakness. But this weakness transcends dogma; it stems from a lack of religious experience as the source of spiritual insight. It's not simply that “there is no dogmatic system in Clement” or any other Apostolic Father; this may actually support, rather than hinder, religious insight. There is a deficiency in the depth of Christian experience and the ability to recognize relative spiritual values in light of the core principle inherent in distinctly Christian consciousness, which could elevate Clement above a verbal eclecticism, rather than comprehensiveness, in using Apostolic language. As R.W. Dale remarks in a note on Reuss’s overly harsh comments (Eng. trans. ii. 295): “The vital force of Apostolic convictions gave Apostolic thought a certain organic and consistent form.” It is the absence of this organic quality in thought—not only in Clement but also generally among the Apostolic Fathers—with the possible exception of Ignatius, who appears to share the Apostolic experience more fully than any other, which Reuss rightly highlights. Due to this shortcoming, largely stemming from a failure to engage with the Apostolic experience of mystical union with Christ, he aptly describes “an immense retrogression” in theology as evident “at the end of the century, and in circles where it might have been least expected” (ii. p. 294, cf. 541).

In fact the perspective of the Gospel was seriously changed and its most distinctive features obscured. This was specially the case with the experimental doctrines of grace. Here the central glory of the Cross as “the power of God unto salvation” suffered some eclipse, although the passion of Christ was felt to be a transcendent act of Divine Grace in one way or another. But even more serious was the loss of an adequate sense of the contrast between “grace” and “works” as conditions of salvation. There was little or no sense of the danger of the legal principle, as related to human egoism and the instinct to seek salvation as a reward for merit. The passages in which these things are laid bare by Paul’s remorseless analysis of his own experience “under Law” seem to have made practically no impression on the Apostolic Fathers as a whole. Gentile Christians had not felt the fang of the Law as the ex-Pharisee had occasion to feel it. Even if first trained in the Hellenistic synagogues of the Dispersion, as was often the case, they apprehended the Law on its more helpful and less exacting side, and had not been brought “by the Law to die unto the Law,” that they might “live unto God.” The result was too great a continuity between their religious conceptions before and after embracing the Gospel. Thus the latter seemed to them simply to bring forgiveness of past sins for Christ’s sake, and then an enhanced moral responsibility to the New Law revealed in Him. Hence a new sort of legalism, known to recent writers as Moralism, underlies much of the piety of the Apostolic Fathers, though Ignatius is quite free from it, while Polycarp and “Barnabas” are less under its influence than are the Didachē, Clement, the Homilist and Hermas. It conceives salvation as a “wages” (μισθός) to be earned or forfeited; and regards certain good works, such as prayer, fasting, alms—especially the last—as efficacious to cancel sins. The reality of this tendency, particularly at Rome, betrays itself in Hermas, who teaches the supererogatory merit of alms gained by the self-denial of fasting (Sim. v. 3. 3 ff.). Marcion’s reaction, too, against the Judaic temper in the Church as a whole, in the interests of an extravagant Paulinism, while it suggests that Paul’s doctrines of grace generally were inadequately realized in the sub-apostolic age, points also to the prevalence of such moralism in particular.

In fact, the perspective of the Gospel changed significantly, and many of its most unique features became unclear. This was especially true for the experimental doctrines of grace. Here, the central significance of the Cross as “the power of God for salvation” was somewhat overshadowed, even though the passion of Christ was still seen as a remarkable act of Divine Grace in one way or another. However, the bigger issue was the lack of a clear understanding of the contrast between “grace” and “works” as conditions for salvation. There was little awareness of the dangers of the legal principle, particularly in relation to human egoism and the tendency to seek salvation as a reward for good deeds. The passages where these matters are revealed by Paul’s relentless analysis of his own experience “under Law” seem to have made almost no impact on the Apostolic Fathers as a whole. Gentile Christians didn’t feel the sting of the Law like the former Pharisee did. Even those who were initially educated in the Hellenistic synagogues of the Dispersion tended to view the Law more positively and less restrictively, and they hadn’t been brought “by the Law to die to the Law,” so they could “live for God.” This resulted in an excessive continuity between their religious beliefs before and after accepting the Gospel. Thus, the Gospel appeared to them primarily as a means of obtaining forgiveness for past sins through Christ, followed by an increased moral responsibility to the New Law revealed in Him. Consequently, a new form of legalism, referred to by recent writers as Moralism, underlies much of the devotion among the Apostolic Fathers, although Ignatius is largely free from it, and Polycarp and “Barnabas” are less influenced by it than the Didachē, Clement, the Homilist, and Hermas. It views salvation as a “wage” (salary) to be earned or lost; and sees certain good works, like prayer, fasting, and especially almsgiving, as effective in canceling sins. The reality of this tendency, particularly in Rome, is evident in Hermas, who teaches the extra merit of almsgiving achieved through the self-denial of fasting (Sim. v. 3. 3 ff.). Marcion’s response to the Judaic mindset in the Church as a whole, in favor of an extreme form of Pauline doctrine, not only indicates that Paul’s teachings on grace were largely misunderstood in the sub-apostolic age, but also highlights the prevalence of such moralism in particular.

(C) In attempting a final estimate of the value of the Apostolic Fathers for the historian to-day, we may sum up under these heads: ecclesiastical, theological, religious. (a) As a mine of materials for reconstructing the history of Church institutions, they are invaluable, and that largely in virtue of their spontaneous and “esoteric” character, with no view to the public generally or to posterity. (b) Theologically, as a stage in the 204 history of Christian doctrine, their value is as great negatively as positively. Impressive as is their witness to the persistence of the Apostolic teaching in its essential features, amidst all personal and local variations, perhaps the most striking thing about these writings is the degree in which they fail to appreciate certain elements of the Apostolic teaching as embodied in the New Testament, and those its higher and more distinctively Christian elements.3 This negative aspect has a twofold bearing. Firstly, it suggests the supernormal level to which the Apostolic consciousness was raised at a bound by the direct influence of the Founder of Christianity, and justifies the marking-off of the Apostolic writings as a Canon, or body of Christian classics of unique religious authority. To this principle Marcion’s Pauline Canon is a witness, though in too one-sided a spirit. Secondly, it means that the actual development of ecclesiastical doctrine began, not from the Apostolic consciousness itself, but from a far lower level, that of the inadequate consciousness of the sub-apostolic Church, even when face to face with their written words. This theological “retrogression” is of much significance for the history of dogma, (c) On the other hand, there is great religious and moral continuity, beneath even theological discontinuity, in the life working below all conscious apprehension of the deeper ideas involved (E. von Dobschutz, Christian Life in the Primitive Church, 1905). There is continuity in character; the Apostolic Fathers strike us as truly good men, with a goodness raised to a new type and power. This is what the Gospel of Christ aims chiefly at producing as its proper fruit; and the Apostolic Fathers would have desired no better record than that they were themselves genuine “epistles of Christ.”

(C) In trying to finally assess the value of the Apostolic Fathers for today’s historians, we can summarize it in these areas: ecclesiastical, theological, and religious. (a) As a source of information for reconstructing the history of Church institutions, they are priceless, largely due to their spontaneous and “insider” nature, without consideration for the general public or future generations. (b) Theologically, as a phase in the history of Christian doctrine, their value is significant both negatively and positively. While it’s impressive how they witness the continuity of Apostolic teaching in its key aspects amidst personal and local variations, perhaps the most notable feature of these writings is how they overlook certain elements of the Apostolic teaching found in the New Testament, particularly its higher and more distinctively Christian aspects. This negative aspect has two main implications. First, it highlights the extraordinary level of awareness the Apostolic consciousness achieved through the direct influence of Christianity’s Founder, providing justification for distinguishing the Apostolic writings as a Canon, or a collection of Christian classics with unique religious authority. Marcion’s Pauline Canon stands as a witness to this principle, albeit in a rather one-sided manner. Secondly, it indicates that the actual development of Church doctrine started not from the Apostolic consciousness itself, but from a much lower awareness level that characterized the sub-apostolic Church, even in the face of their written words. This theological “backwardness” is significant for the history of dogma. (c) Conversely, there is substantial religious and moral continuity, even amidst theological discontinuity, in the life that operates beneath all conscious understanding of the deeper ideas involved (E. von Dobschutz, Christian Life in the Primitive Church, 1905). There is continuity in character; the Apostolic Fathers come across as genuinely good individuals, with a goodness elevated to a new type and strength. This is what the Gospel of Christ primarily aims to produce as its intended outcome; and the Apostolic Fathers would have preferred no better legacy than to be considered true “letters of Christ.”

Literature.—This is too large to indicate even in outline, but is given fully in the chief modern editions, viz. of Gebhardt, Harnack and Zahn jointly (1875-1877), J.B. Lightfoot (1885-1890) and F.X. Funk (1901); also in O. Bardenhewer, Gesch. der altkirchlichen Litteratur (1902), Band i., and in Neutestamentliche Apokryphen, with Handbuch thereto, edited by E. Hennecke (Tübingen, 1904). The fullest discussion in English of the teaching of Barnabas, Clement, Ignatius and Polycarp is by J. Donaldson, The Apostolical Fathers (1874), which, however, suffers from the imperfect state of the texts when he wrote. The most useful edition for ready reference, containing critical texts (up to date) and good translations, is Lightfoot’s one-volume edition, The Apostolic Fathers (London, 1891).

Books.—This is too extensive to summarize, but is fully detailed in the main modern editions, namely those by Gebhardt, Harnack, and Zahn (1875-1877), J.B. Lightfoot (1885-1890), and F.X. Funk (1901); also in O. Bardenhewer's Gesch. der altkirchlichen Litteratur (1902), Volume I, and in Neutestamentliche Apokryphen, along with the accompanying Handbuch, edited by E. Hennecke (Tübingen, 1904). The most comprehensive English discussion of the teachings of Barnabas, Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp can be found in J. Donaldson's The Apostolical Fathers (1874), which unfortunately is hampered by the incomplete state of the texts at the time it was written. The most useful edition for quick reference, featuring updated critical texts and good translations, is Lightfoot's one-volume edition, The Apostolic Fathers (London, 1891).

(J. V. B.)

1 Cotelier included the Acts of Martyrdom of Clement, Ignatius and Polycarp; and those of Ignatius and Polycarp are still often printed by editors.

1 Cotelier included the Acts of Martyrdom for Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp; and the accounts of Ignatius and Polycarp are still frequently published by editors.

2 See G.A. Deissmann, Bible Studies, pp. 1-60, for this distinction between the genuine “letter” and the literary “epistle,” as applied to the New Testament in particular.

2 See G.A. Deissmann, Bible Studies, pp. 1-60, for this distinction between the true “letter” and the literary “epistle,” specifically in relation to the New Testament.

3 One result is their inability to form a true theory of Judaism and of the Old Testament in relation to the Gospel, a matter of great moment for them and for their successors.

3 One result is their inability to create a genuine understanding of Judaism and the Old Testament in relation to the Gospel, which is a significant issue for them and their future generations.


APOSTOLICI, Apostolic Brethren, or Apostles, the names given to various Christian heretics, whose common doctrinal feature was an ascetic rigidity of morals, which made them reject property and marriage. The earliest Apostolici appeared in Phrygia, Cilicia, Pisidia and Pamphylia towards the end of the 2nd century or the beginning of the 3rd. According to the information given by Epiphanius (Haer. 61) about the doctrines of these heretics, it is evident that they were connected with the Encratites and the Tatianians. They condemned individual property, hence the name sometimes given to them of Apotactites or Renuntiatores. They preserved an absolute chastity and abstained from wine and meat. They refused to admit into their sect those Christians whom the fear of martyrdom had once restored to paganism. As late as the 4th century St Basil (Can. 1 and 47) knew some Apostolici. After that period they disappeared, either becoming completely extinct, or being confounded with other sects (see St Augustine, Haer. 40; John of Damascus, Haer. 61).

APOSTOLICI, Apostolic Brothers, or Disciples, were the names given to various Christian heretics who shared a strict ascetic approach to morals, leading them to reject property and marriage. The earliest Apostolici emerged in Phrygia, Cilicia, Pisidia, and Pamphylia toward the end of the 2nd century or the beginning of the 3rd. According to Epiphanius (Haer. 61), their doctrines suggest that they were linked to the Encratites and the Tatianians. They disapproved of individual property, which is why they were sometimes referred to as Apotactites or Renuntiatores. They maintained complete chastity and avoided wine and meat. They would not accept into their group those Christians who had returned to paganism out of fear of martyrdom. As late as the 4th century, St. Basil (Can. 1 and 47) mentioned some Apostolici. After that time, they disappeared, either becoming entirely extinct or merging with other sects (see St. Augustine, Haer. 40; John of Damascus, Haer. 61).

Failing a more exact designation, the name of Apostolici has been given to certain groups of Latin heretics of the 12th century. It is the second of the two sects of Cologne (the first being composed very probably of Cathari) that is referred to in the letter addressed in 1146 by Everwin, provost of Steinfeld, to St Bernard (Mabillon, Vet. Anal. iii. 452). They condemned marriage (save, perhaps, first marriages), the eating of meat, baptism of children, veneration of saints, fasting, prayers for the dead and belief in purgatory, denied transubstantiation, declared the Catholic priesthood worthless, and considered the whole church of their time corrupted by the “negotia saecularia” which absorbed all its zeal (of. St Bernard, Serm. 65 and 66 in Cantic.). They do not seem to have been known as Apostles or Apostolici: St Bernard, in fact, asks his hearers: “Quo nomine istos titulove censebis?” (Serm. 66 in Cantic.). Under this designation, too, are included the heretics of Perigueux in France, alluded to in the letter of a certain monk Heribert (Mabillon, Vet. Anal. iii. 467). Heribert says merely: “Se dicunt apostolicam vitam ducere.” It is possible that they were Henricians (see Henry of Lausanne). During his mission in the south-east of France in 1146-1147 St Bernard still met disciples of Henry of Lausanne in the environs of Périgueux. The heretics of whom Heribert speaks condemned riches, denied the value of the sacraments and of good works, ate no meat, drank no wine and rejected the veneration of images. Their leader, named Pons, gathered round him nobles, priests, monks and nuns.

Failing a more precise label, the term Apostolici has been used to refer to certain groups of Latin heretics from the 12th century. It is the second of the two sects in Cologne (the first likely being made up of Cathari) mentioned in a letter written in 1146 by Everwin, the provost of Steinfeld, to St. Bernard (Mabillon, Vet. Anal. iii. 452). They condemned marriage (except, perhaps, first marriages), the eating of meat, the baptism of children, the veneration of saints, fasting, prayers for the deceased, and belief in purgatory. They denied transubstantiation, deemed the Catholic priesthood worthless, and regarded the entire church of their time as corrupted by the “negotia saecularia,” which consumed all its zeal (cf. St. Bernard, Serm. 65 and 66 in Cantic.). They do not appear to have been called Apostles or Apostolici: St. Bernard actually asks his audience: “What name or title will you give them?” (Serm. 66 in Cantic.). This term also includes the heretics from Périgueux in France, mentioned in a letter from a certain monk named Heribert (Mabillon, Vet. Anal. iii. 467). Heribert simply states: “They claim to lead an apostolic life.” It is possible that they were Henricians (see Henry of Lausanne). During his mission in the southeast of France in 1146-1147, St. Bernard encountered followers of Henry of Lausanne near Périgueux. The heretics referred to by Heribert condemned wealth, rejected the value of the sacraments and good works, abstained from meat, avoided wine, and dismissed the veneration of images. Their leader, named Pons, attracted nobles, priests, monks, and nuns to his group.

In the second half of the 13th century appeared in Italy the Order of the Apostles or Apostle Brethren (see especially the Chron. of Fra Salimbene). This was a product of the mystic fermentation which proceeded from exalted Franciscanism and from Joachimism (see Fraticelli and Joachim). It presents great analogies with groups of the same character, e.g. Sachets, Bizocchi, Flagellants, &c. The order of the Apostles was founded about 1260 by a young workman from the environs of Parma, Gerard Segarelli, who had sought admission unsuccessfully to the Franciscan order. To make his life conform to that of Christ, his contemporaries say that he had himself circumcised, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a cradle, and that he then, clad in a white robe and bare-footed, walked through the streets of Parma crying “Penitenz agite!” (“Poenitentiam agite!”). He was soon followed by a throng of men and women, peasants and mechanics. All had to live in absolute poverty, chastity and idleness. They begged, and preached penitence. Opizo, bishop of Parma, protected them until they caused trouble in his diocese. Their diffusion into several countries of Christendom disturbed Pope Honorius IV., who in 1286 ordered them to adhere to an already recognized rule. On their refusal, the pope condemned them to banishment and Opizo imprisoned Segarelli. The councils of Würzburg (1287) and Chichester (1289) took measures against the Apostles of Germany and England. But in 1291 the sect reappeared, sensibly increased, and Pope Nicholas IV. published anew the bull of Honorius IV. From that day the Apostles, regarded as rebels, were persecuted pitilessly. Four were burned in 1294, and Segarelli, as a relapsed heretic, went to the stake at Parma in 1300.

In the second half of the 13th century, the Order of the Apostles or Apostle Brethren emerged in Italy (see especially the Chron. of Fra Salimbene). This group was formed from the intense mystical influence of Franciscanism and Joachimism (see Fraticelli and Joachim). It shares many similarities with other groups of the same kind, like the Sachets, Bizocchi, and Flagellants, among others. The Order of the Apostles was founded around 1260 by a young worker from the area near Parma named Gerard Segarelli, who had tried unsuccessfully to join the Franciscan order. To align his life with that of Christ, people of his time claimed that he had himself circumcised, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a cradle. Then, dressed in a white robe and barefoot, he walked through the streets of Parma shouting “Penitenz agite!” (“Poenitentiam agite!”). He was soon followed by a crowd of men and women, peasants and laborers. Everyone was required to live in complete poverty, chastity, and idleness. They begged and preached repentance. Opizo, the bishop of Parma, initially supported them until their activities created issues in his diocese. Their spread across several countries in Christendom alarmed Pope Honorius IV, who in 1286 instructed them to follow an established rule. When they refused, the pope condemned them to exile, and Opizo imprisoned Segarelli. The councils of Würzburg (1287) and Chichester (1289) took action against the Apostles in Germany and England. However, in 1291 the sect re-emerged, having notably grown, and Pope Nicholas IV reaffirmed the bull from Honorius IV. From that point on, the Apostles were viewed as rebels and faced relentless persecution. Four were burned in 1294, and Segarelli, branded a relapsed heretic, was executed by burning in Parma in 1300.

They had had close relations with the dissident Franciscans, but the Spirituals often disavowed them, especially when the sect, which in Segarelli’s time had had no very precise doctrinal character, became with Dolcino frankly heterodox. Dolcino of Novara was brought up at Vercelli, and had been an Apostle since 1291. Thrice he fell into the hands of the Inquisition, and thrice recanted. But immediately after Segarelli’s death he wrote an epistle, soon followed by a second, in which he declared that the third Joachimite age began with Segarelli and that Frederick of Sicily was the expected conqueror (Hist. Dulcini and Addit. ad Hist. Dulcini in Muratori, Scriptores, vol. ix.). He gave himself out as an angel sent from God to elucidate the prophecies. Soon he founded an Apostolic congregation at whose head he placed himself. Under him were his four lieutenants, his “mystic sister,” Margherita di Franck, and 4000 disciples. He taught almost the same principles of devotion as Segarelli, but the Messianic character which he attributed to himself, the announcement of a communistic millennial kingdom, and, besides, an aggressive anti-sacerdotalism, gave to Dolcino’s sect a clearly marked character, analogous only to the theocratic community of the Anabaptists of Münster in the 16th century. On the 5th of June 1305 Pope Clement V., recognizing the impotence of the ordinary methods of repression, issued bulls for preaching a crusade against the Dolcinists. But four crusades, directed by the bishop of Vercelli, were required to reduce the little army of the heresiarch, entrenched in the mountains in the neighbourhood of Vercelli. Not till the 23rd 205 of March 1307 were the sectaries definitively overcome. The Catholic crusaders seized Dolcino in his entrenchments on Mount Rubello, and the pope at once announced the happy event to King Philip the Fair. At Vercelli Dolcino suffered a horrible punishment. He was torn in pieces with red-hot pincers—the torture lasting an entire day—while Margherita was burned at a slow fire. Dante mentions Dolcino’s name (Inferno, c. xxviii.), and his memory is not yet completely effaced in the province of Novara. The Apostles continued their propaganda in Italy, Languedoc, Spain and Germany. In turn they were condemned by the councils of Cologne (1306), Treves (1310) and Spoleto (1311). The inquisitor of Languedoc, Bernard Gui, persecuted them unremittingly (see Gui’s Practica Inquisitionis). From 1316 to 1323 the condemnations of Apostles increased at Avignon and Toulouse. They disappeared, however, at a comparatively late date from those regions (council of Lavaur, 1368; council of Narbonne, 1374). In Germany two Apostles were burned at Lübeck and Wismar at the beginning of the 15th century (1402-1403) by the inquisitor Eylard.

They had maintained close ties with the rebellious Franciscans, but the Spirituals often distanced themselves from them, especially when the group, which during Segarelli’s time lacked a clear doctrinal stance, became overtly unorthodox under Dolcino. Dolcino of Novara grew up in Vercelli and had been an Apostle since 1291. He was captured by the Inquisition three times and recanted each time. However, right after Segarelli’s death, he wrote a letter, quickly followed by a second one, declaring that the new Joachimite age began with Segarelli and that Frederick of Sicily was the expected conqueror (Hist. Dulcini and Addit. ad Hist. Dulcini in Muratori, Scriptores, vol. ix.). He claimed to be an angel sent from God to explain the prophecies. Soon, he established an Apostolic congregation and took charge of it. He had four lieutenants, his “mystic sister” Margherita di Franck, and 4,000 disciples. He taught nearly the same principles of devotion as Segarelli, but the Messianic role he assigned to himself, the announcement of a communist utopian kingdom, and his aggressive anti-clerical stance gave Dolcino’s sect a distinct identity, reminiscent only of the theocratic community of the Anabaptists in Münster in the 16th century. On June 5, 1305, Pope Clement V, acknowledging the ineffectiveness of standard repression methods, issued bulls to preach a crusade against the Dolcinists. However, it took four crusades led by the bishop of Vercelli to defeat the small army of the heresiarch, who was barricaded in the mountains near Vercelli. It wasn’t until March 23, 1307, that the sect members were definitively defeated. The Catholic crusaders captured Dolcino in his stronghold on Mount Rubello, and the pope immediately informed King Philip the Fair of the good news. In Vercelli, Dolcino faced a terrible punishment. He was torn apart with red-hot pincers—the torture lasted an entire day—while Margherita was burned slowly. Dante mentions Dolcino’s name (Inferno, c. xxviii.), and his memory isn't entirely forgotten in the province of Novara. The Apostles continued their outreach in Italy, Languedoc, Spain, and Germany. They were condemned by the councils of Cologne (1306), Treves (1310), and Spoleto (1311). The inquisitor of Languedoc, Bernard Gui, relentlessly pursued them (see Gui’s Practica Inquisitionis). From 1316 to 1323, the number of Apostles condemned increased in Avignon and Toulouse. However, they didn’t disappear from those areas until a relatively late date (council of Lavaur, 1368; council of Narbonne, 1374). In Germany, two Apostles were burned at Lübeck and Wismar in the early 15th century (1402-1403) by the inquisitor Eylard.

Several controversialists, including Gotti, Krohn and Stockmann, have mentioned among the innumerable sects that have sprung from Anabaptism a group of individuals whose open-air preaching and rigorous practice of poverty gained them the name of Apostolici. These must be carefully distinguished from the Apostoolians, Mennonites of Frisia, who followed the teachings of the pastor Samuel Apostool (1638-beginning of 18th century). In the Mennonite church they represent the rigid, conservative party, as opposed to the Galenists, who inclined towards the Arminian latitudinarianism and admitted into their community all those who led a virtuous life, whatever their doctrinal tendencies.

Several controversial figures, including Gotti, Krohn, and Stockmann, have pointed out that among the countless sects that emerged from Anabaptism, there was a group known for their open-air preaching and strict commitment to poverty, called the Apostolici. It's important to clearly differentiate them from the Apostoolians, Mennonites from Frisia, who followed the teachings of pastor Samuel Apostool (1638-beginning of the 18th century). Within the Mennonite church, they represent the strict, conservative faction, in contrast to the Galenists, who leaned towards Arminian liberalism and welcomed into their community anyone who led a virtuous life, regardless of their doctrinal beliefs.

(P. A.)

APOSTOLIC MAJESTY, a title borne by the kings of Hungary. About A.D. 1000 it was conferred by Pope Silvester II. upon St Stephen (975-1038), the first Christian king of Hungary, in return for his zeal in seeking the conversion of the heathen. It was renewed by Pope Clement XIII. in 1758 in favour of the empress Maria Theresa and her descendants. The emperor of Austria bears the title of apostolic king of Hungary.

APOSTOLIC MAJESTY, is a title held by the kings of Hungary. Around CE 1000, Pope Silvester II. granted it to St. Stephen (975-1038), the first Christian king of Hungary, in recognition of his efforts to convert the pagan population. Pope Clement XIII. renewed the title in 1758 for Empress Maria Theresa and her descendants. The emperor of Austria holds the title of apostolic king of Hungary.


APOSTOLIUS, MICHAEL (d. c. 1480), a Greek theologian and rhetorician of the 15th century. When, in 1453, the Turks conquered Constantinople, his native city, he fled to Italy, and there obtained the protection of Cardinal Bessarion. But engaging in the great dispute that then raged between the upholders of Aristotle and Plato, his zeal for the latter led him to speak so contemptuously of the more popular philosopher and of his defender, Theodorus Gaza, that he fell under the severe displeasure of his patron. He afterwards retired to Crete, where he earned a scanty living by teaching and by copying manuscripts. Many of his copies are still to be found in the libraries of Europe. One of them, the Icones of Philostratus at Bologna, bears the inscription: “The king of the poor of this world has written this book for his living.” Apostolius died about 1480, leaving two sons, Aristobulus Apostolius and Arsenius. The latter became bishop of Malvasia (Monemvasia) in the Morea.

APOSTOLIUS, MICHAEL (d. c. 1480), was a Greek theologian and rhetorician from the 15th century. When the Turks conquered his hometown of Constantinople in 1453, he escaped to Italy and received protection from Cardinal Bessarion. However, his strong support for Plato in the ongoing debate against Aristotle led him to speak derisively about the more popular philosopher and his supporter, Theodorus Gaza, which upset his patron significantly. He later moved to Crete, where he made a meager living by teaching and copying manuscripts. Many of his copies can still be found in libraries across Europe. One of them, the Icones of Philostratus in Bologna, has the inscription: “The king of the poor of this world has written this book for his living.” Apostolius passed away around 1480, leaving behind two sons, Aristobulus Apostolius and Arsenius. The latter became the bishop of Malvasia (Monemvasia) in the Morea.

Of his numerous works a few have been printed: Παροιμίαι (Basel, 1538), now exceedingly rare; a collection of proverbs in Greek, of which a fuller edition appeared at Leiden, “Curante Heinsio,” in 1619; “Oratio Panegyrica ad Fredericum III.” in Freher’s Scriptores Rerum Germanicarum, vol. ii. (Frankfort, 1624); Georgii Gemisthi Plethonis et Mich. Apostolii Orationes funebres duae in quibus de Immortalitate Animae exponitur (Leipzig, 1793); and a work against the Latin Church and the council of Florence in Le Moine’s Varia Sacra.

Of his many works, a few have been published: Proverbs (Basel, 1538), which is now very rare; a collection of proverbs in Greek, with a more complete edition released in Leiden, “Curante Heinsio,” in 1619; “Oratio Panegyrica ad Fredericum III.” in Freher’s Scriptores Rerum Germanicarum, vol. ii. (Frankfort, 1624); Georgii Gemisthi Plethonis and Mich. Apostolii Orationes funebres duae in quibus de Immortalitate Animae exponitur (Leipzig, 1793); and a work against the Latin Church and the council of Florence in Le Moine’s Varia Sacra.


APOSTROPHE (Gr. ἀποστροφή, turning away; the final e being sounded), the name given to an exclamatory rhetorical figure of speech, when a speaker or writer breaks off and addresses some one directly in the vocative. The same word (representing, through the French, the Greek ἀπόστροφος προσῳδία, the accent of elision) means also the sign (’) for the omission of a letter or letters, e.g. in “don’t.” In physiology, “apostrophe” is used more precisely in connexion with its literal meaning of “turning away,” e.g. for movement away from the light, in the case of the accumulation of chlorophyll-corpuscles on the cells of leaves.

APOSTROPHE (Gr. rejection, turning away; the final e being pronounced), the term used for an exclamatory rhetorical figure of speech, when a speaker or writer suddenly stops and directly addresses someone using the vocative case. The same word (which comes through French from the Greek apo' (turned away, deprecated) prosody, meaning the accent of elision) also refers to the sign (’) indicating the omission of a letter or letters, e.g. in “don’t.” In physiology, “apostrophe” is used more specifically in relation to its literal meaning of “turning away,” e.g. to describe movement away from light, as seen in the accumulation of chlorophyll bodies in the cells of leaves.


APOTACTITES, or Apotactici (from Gr. ἀποτακτός, set apart), a sect of early Christians, who renounced all their worldly possessions. (See Apostolici ad init.)

APOTACTITES, or Apotactici (from Gr. Unavailable, set apart), a group of early Christians who gave up all their worldly possessions. (See Apostolici ad init.)


APOTHECARY (from the Lat. apothecarius, a keeper of an apotheca, Gr. ἀποθήκη, a store), a word used by Galen to denote the repository where his medicines were kept, now obsolete in its original sense. An apothecary was one who prepared, sold and prescribed drugs, but the preparing and selling of drugs prescribed by others has now passed into the hands of duly qualified and authorized persons termed “chemists and druggists,” while the apothecary, by modern legislation, has become a general medical practitioner, and the word itself, when used at all, is applied, more particularly in the United States and in Scotland, to those who in England are called “pharmaceutical chemists.” The Apothecaries’ Society of London is one of the corporations of that city, and both by royal charters and acts of parliament exercises the power of granting licences to practise medicine. The members of this society do not possess and never have possessed any exclusive power to deal in or sell drugs; and until 1868 any person whatever might open what is called a chemist’s shop, and deal in drugs and poisons. In that year, however, the Pharmacy Act was passed, which prohibits any person from engaging in this business without being registered.

Pharmacy (from the Latin apothecarius, a keeper of an apotheca, Greek archive, a store), a term used by Galen to refer to the place where he kept his medicines, is now outdated in its original context. An apothecary was someone who prepared, sold, and prescribed medications, but the tasks of preparing and selling drugs prescribed by others are now handled by qualified and licensed individuals called “chemists and druggists.” In modern terms, the apothecary has become a general medical practitioner, and the term itself is primarily used in the United States and Scotland, while in England, those roles are referred to as “pharmaceutical chemists.” The Apothecaries’ Society of London is one of the city's organizations that holds the authority, through royal charters and acts of parliament, to grant licenses to practice medicine. Members of this society have never had exclusive rights to sell or deal in medications; until 1868, anyone could open what is known as a chemist’s shop and sell drugs and poisons. However, in that year, the Pharmacy Act was enacted, which prohibits anyone from engaging in this business without being registered.

From early records we learn that the different branches of the medical profession were not regularly distinguished till the reign of Henry VIII., when separate duties were assigned to them, and peculiar privileges were granted to each. In 1518 the physicians of London were incorporated, and the barber-surgeons in 1540. But, independently of the physicians and the surgeons, there were a great number of irregular practitioners, who were more or less molested by their legitimate rivals, and it became necessary to pass an act in 1543 for their protection and toleration. As many of these practitioners kept shops for the sale of medicines, the term “apothecary” was used to designate their calling.

From early records, we learn that various branches of the medical profession weren't clearly defined until the reign of Henry VIII, when specific duties were assigned to them and unique privileges were granted to each. In 1518, the physicians of London were incorporated, and the barber-surgeons in 1540. However, besides the physicians and surgeons, there were many unlicensed practitioners, who faced harassment from their legitimate competitors, making it necessary to pass a law in 1543 for their protection and tolerance. Since many of these practitioners ran shops to sell medicines, the term “apothecary” was used to describe their profession.

In April 1606 James I. incorporated the apothecaries as one of the city companies, uniting them with the grocers. On their charter being renewed in 1617 they were formed into a separate corporation, under the title of the “Apothecaries of the City of London.” These apothecaries appear to have prescribed medicines in addition to dispensing them, and to have claimed an ancient right of acting in this double capacity; and it may be mentioned that Henry VIII., after the grant of the charter to the College of Physicians, appointed an apothecary to the Princess Mary, who was delicate and unhealthy, at a salary of 40 marks a year, “pro meliore cura, et consideratione sanitatis suae.” During the 17th century, however, there arose a warm contest between the physicians and the apothecaries,—the former accusing the latter of usurping their province, and the latter continuing and justifying the usurpation until the dispute was finally set at rest by a judgment of the House of Lords in 1703 (Rose v. College of Physicians, 5 Bro. P. C. 553), when it was decided that the duty of the apothecary consisted not only in compounding and dispensing, but also in directing and ordering the remedies employed in the treatment of disease. In 1722 an act was obtained empowering the Apothecaries’ Company to visit the shops of all apothecaries practising in London, and to destroy such drugs as they found unfit for use. In 1748 great additional powers were given to the company by an act authorizing them to appoint a board of ten examiners, without whose licence no person should be allowed to dispense medicines in London, or within a circuit of 7 m. round it. In 1815, however, an act of parliament was passed which gave the Apothecaries’ Society a new position, empowering a board, consisting of twelve of their members, to examine and license all apothecaries throughout England and Wales. It also enacted that, from the 1st of August of that year, no persons except those who were so licensed should have the right to act as apothecaries, and it gave the society the power of prosecuting those who practised 206 without such licence. But the act expressly exempted from prosecution all persons who were then in actual practice, and it distinctly excluded from its operation all persons pursuing the calling of chemists and druggists. It was also provided that the act should in no way interfere with the rights or privileges of the English universities, or of the English College of Surgeons or the College of Physicians; and indeed a clause imposed severe penalties on any apothecaries who should refuse to compound and dispense medicines on the order of a physician, legally qualified to act as such. It is therefore clear that the act contemplated the creation of a class of practitioners who, while having the right to practise medicine, should assist and co-operate with the physicians and surgeons.

In April 1606, James I incorporated the apothecaries as one of the city companies, merging them with the grocers. When their charter was renewed in 1617, they became a separate corporation called the “Apothecaries of the City of London.” These apothecaries seemed to have prescribed medicines in addition to dispensing them, claiming an ancient right to act in both roles. Notably, Henry VIII, after granting the charter to the College of Physicians, appointed an apothecary for Princess Mary, who was sickly, with a salary of 40 marks a year, “pro meliore cura, et consideratione sanitatis suae.” However, during the 17th century, there was a heated dispute between the physicians and the apothecaries. The physicians accused the apothecaries of overstepping their boundaries, while the apothecaries defended their actions until the House of Lords settled the matter in 1703 (Rose v. College of Physicians, 5 Bro. P. C. 553). It was determined that the apothecary’s role included not only compounding and dispensing but also directing and prescribing treatments for diseases. In 1722, a law was passed allowing the Apothecaries’ Company to inspect all apothecary shops in London and to destroy any unfit drugs. In 1748, additional powers were granted to the company through an act that enabled them to appoint a board of ten examiners, and no one could dispense medicines in London or within a 7-mile radius without their license. However, in 1815, a parliamentary act was enacted that gave the Apothecaries’ Society a new role, allowing a board of twelve members to examine and license all apothecaries across England and Wales. It also stated that starting August 1 of that year, only licensed individuals could act as apothecaries, and the society was empowered to prosecute anyone practicing without such a license. The act, however, specifically exempted individuals who were already practicing at that time and excluded chemists and druggists from its scope. Moreover, it was stipulated that the act would not affect the rights or privileges of English universities or the English College of Surgeons or the College of Physicians, and it imposed strict penalties on any apothecaries who refused to compound and dispense medicines on the orders of a qualified physician. Therefore, it is evident that the act aimed to establish a category of practitioners who would have the right to practice medicine while collaborating with physicians and surgeons.

Before this act came into operation the education of the medical practitioners of England and Wales was entirely optional on their own part, and although many of them possessed degrees or licences from the universities or colleges, the greater number possessed no such qualification, and many of them were wholly illiterate and uneducated. The court of examiners of the Apothecaries’ Society, being empowered to enforce the acquisition of a sufficient medical education upon its future licentiates, specified from time to time the courses of lectures or terms of hospital practice to be attended by medical students before their examination, and in the progress of years regular schools of medicine were organized throughout England.

Before this law took effect, becoming a medical practitioner in England and Wales was entirely up to individual choice. While many had degrees or licenses from universities or colleges, a large number had no qualifications at all, and many were completely uneducated and illiterate. The examiners of the Apothecaries’ Society, having the authority to require a proper medical education from those seeking licenses, periodically outlined the required lecture courses or hospital practice terms for medical students before their exams. Over the years, established medical schools were set up across England.

As it was found that, notwithstanding the stringent regulations as to medical acquirements, the candidates were in many instances deficient in preliminary education, the court of examiners instituted, about the year 1850, a preliminary examination in arts as a necessary and indispensable prerequisite to the medical curriculum, and this provision has been so expanded that, at the present day, all medical students in the United Kingdom are compelled to pass a preliminary examination in arts, unless they hold a university degree. An act of parliament, passed in 1858, and known as the Medical Act, made very little alteration in the powers exercised by the Apothecaries’ Society, and indeed it confirmed and in some degree amplified them, for whereas by the act of 1815, the licentiates of the society were authorized to practise as such only in England and Wales, the new measure gave them the same right in Scotland and Ireland. The Medical Act 1886 extended the qualifications necessary for registration under the medical acts, by making it necessary to pass a qualifying examination in medicine, surgery and midwifery. (See Medical Education.)

As it was discovered that, despite strict rules regarding medical qualifications, many candidates lacked basic education, the examining court established a preliminary arts examination around 1850 as a necessary requirement before entering the medical curriculum. This requirement has since been expanded, so now all medical students in the United Kingdom must pass a preliminary arts examination unless they have a university degree. An act of parliament passed in 1858, known as the Medical Act, made very few changes to the powers held by the Apothecaries’ Society and actually confirmed and somewhat expanded them. While the 1815 act allowed society members to practice only in England and Wales, the new law granted them the same rights in Scotland and Ireland. The Medical Act of 1886 further extended the qualifications needed for registration under the medical acts by requiring candidates to pass qualifying examinations in medicine, surgery, and midwifery. (See Medical Education.)

An act, passed in 1874, related exclusively to the Apothecaries’ Society, and is termed the Apothecaries’ Act Amendment Act. By this measure some provisions of the act of 1815, which had become obsolete or unsuitable, were repealed, and powers were given to the society to unite or co-operate with other medical licensing bodies in granting licences to practise. The act of 1815 had made it compulsory on all candidates for a licence to have served an apprenticeship of five years to an apothecary, and although by the interpretation of the court of examiners of the society this term really included the whole period of medical study, yet the regulation was felt as a grievance by many members of the medical profession. It was accordingly repealed, and no apprenticeship is now necessary. The restriction of the choice of examiners to the members of the society was also repealed, and the society was given the power (which it did not before possess) to strike off from the list of its licentiates the names of disreputable persons. The act of 1874 also specified that the society was not deprived of any right or obligation they may have to admit women to examination, and to enter their names on the list of licentiates if they acquit themselves satisfactorily.

An act passed in 1874 was specifically about the Apothecaries’ Society, and is called the Apothecaries’ Act Amendment Act. This law repealed some outdated or unsuitable provisions from the 1815 act and gave the society the authority to join forces or collaborate with other medical licensing organizations to issue practice licenses. The 1815 act required all license applicants to complete a five-year apprenticeship with an apothecary, and although the court of examiners interpreted this to mean the entire period of medical training, many in the medical field found this regulation problematic. As a result, it has been repealed, and no apprenticeship is now needed. The restriction on choosing examiners solely from society members was also lifted, and the society was granted the new power to remove the names of disreputable individuals from its list of licensees. Additionally, the 1874 act made it clear that the society still had the right and responsibility to admit women for examination and to place their names on the list of licensees if they performed well.

The Apothecaries’ Society is governed by a master, two wardens and twenty-two assistants. The members are divided into Three grades, yeomanry or freemen, the livery, and the court. Women are not, however, admitted to the freedom. The hall of the society, situated in Water Lane, London, and covering about three-quarters of an acre, was acquired in 1633. It was destroyed by the great fire, but was rebuilt about ten years later and enlarged in 1786. This is the only property possessed by the society. In 1673, the society established a botanic and physic garden at Chelsea, and in 1722 Sir Hans Sloane, who had become the ground owner, gave it to the society on the condition of presenting annually to the Royal Society fifty dried specimens of plants till the number should reach 2000. This condition was fulfilled in 1774. Owing to the heavy cost of maintenance and other reasons, the “physic garden” was handed over in 1902, with the consent of the Charity Commissioners, to a committee of management, to be maintained in the interests of botanical study and research.

The Apothecaries’ Society is run by a master, two wardens, and twenty-two assistants. The members are organized into three levels: yeomanry or freemen, the livery, and the court. However, women are not allowed to join as members. The society's hall, located on Water Lane in London and covering about three-quarters of an acre, was acquired in 1633. It was destroyed in the Great Fire but was rebuilt about ten years later and expanded in 1786. This is the only property that the society owns. In 1673, the society created a botanical and medicinal garden in Chelsea, and in 1722, Sir Hans Sloane, who became the landowner, donated it to the society with the condition that they present fifty dried plant specimens to the Royal Society annually until the total reached 2000. This condition was met in 1774. Due to high maintenance costs and other reasons, the “physic garden” was handed over in 1902, with the Charity Commissioners' consent, to a management committee to be maintained for the sake of botanical study and research.

See C.R.B. Barrett, The History of the Society of Apothecaries of London (1905).

See C.R.B. Barrett, The History of the Society of Apothecaries of London (1905).


APOTHEOSIS (Gr. ἀποθεοῦν, to make a god, to deify), literally deification. The term properly implies a clear polytheistic conception of gods in contrast with men, while it recognizes that some men cross the dividing line. It is characteristic of polytheism to blur that line in several ways. Thus the ancient Greek religion was especially disposed to belief in heroes and demigods. Founders of cities, and even of colonies, received worship; the former are, generally speaking, mythical personages and, in strictness, heroes. But the worship after death of historical persons, such as Lycurgus, or worship of the living as true deities, e.g. Lysander and Philip II. of Macedon, occurred sporadically even before Alexander’s conquests brought Greek life into contact with oriental traditions. It was inevitable, too, that ancient monarchies should enlist polytheistic conceptions of divine or half-divine men in support of the dynasties; “Seu deos regesve canit deorum Sanguinem,” Horace (Odes, iv. 2, II. 12, 13) writes of Pindar; though the reference is to myths, yet the phrase is significant. In the East all such traits are exaggerated, a result perhaps rather of the statecraft than of the religions of Egypt and Persia. Whatever part vanity or the flattery of courtiers may have played with others, or with Alexander, it is significant that the dynasties of Alexander’s various successors all claim divine honours of some sort (see Ptolemies, Seleucid Dynasty, &c.). Theocritus (Idyll 17) hails Ptolemy Philadelphus as a demigod, and speaks of his father as seated among the gods along with Alexander. Ancestor worship, or reverence for the dead, was a third factor. It may work even in Cicero’s determination that his daughter should enjoy “ἀποθέωσις”— as he writes to Atticus—or receive the “honour” of consecratia (fragment of his De Consolatione). Lastly, we need not speak of mere sycophancy. Yet it was common; Verres was worshipped before he was impeached!

APOTHEOSIS (Gr. ἀποθεοῦν, to make a god, to deify), literally deification. The term suggests a clear polytheistic idea of gods in contrast to humans, while acknowledging that some humans cross that line. It’s typical of polytheism to blur that line in various ways. Ancient Greek religion was particularly inclined to believe in heroes and demigods. Founders of cities, and even colonies, were worshipped; these founders are generally mythical figures and, in a strict sense, heroes. However, the worship of historical individuals after their death, like Lycurgus, or the worship of living people as true deities, such as Lysander and Philip II of Macedon, also occurred sporadically even before Alexander’s conquests linked Greek culture with Eastern traditions. It was also inevitable that ancient monarchies would adopt polytheistic ideas of divine or semi-divine humans to bolster their dynasties; “Seu deos regesve canit deorum Sanguinem,” Horace (Odes, iv. 2, II. 12, 13) mentions about Pindar; although the reference is to myths, the phrase carries significance. In the East, these traits are amplified, perhaps more due to political strategies than the religions of Egypt and Persia. Regardless of how much vanity or flattery of courtiers influenced others, or Alexander himself, it's notable that the dynasties of Alexander’s many successors all claimed some form of divine honors (see Ptolemies, Seleucid Dynasty, &c.). Theocritus (Idyll 17) praises Ptolemy Philadelphus as a demigod and refers to his father as sitting among the gods alongside Alexander. Ancestor worship, or honoring the dead, was another factor. This could even influence Cicero’s determination that his daughter should receive “apotheosis”—as he mentions to Atticus—or be honored with consecratia (fragment from his De Consolatione). Lastly, we should not overlook mere sycophancy. Yet it was common; Verres was worshipped before he was impeached!

The Romans had, up to the end of the Republic, accepted only one official apotheosis; the god Quirinus, whatever his original meaning, having been identified with Romulus. But the emperor Augustus carried on the tradition of ancient statecraft by having Julius Caesar recognized as a god (divus Julius), the first of a new class of deities proper (divi). The tradition was steadily followed and was extended to some ladies of the imperial family and even to imperial favourites. Worship of an emperor during his lifetime, except as the worship of his genius, was, save in the cases of Caligula and Domitian, confined to the provinces. Apotheosis after his death, being in the hands of the senate, did not at once cease, even when Christianity was officially adopted. The Latin term is consecratio, which of course has a variety of senses, including simple burial. (Inscription in G. Boissier, La Religion romaine; Renier, Inscriptions d’Algiers, 2510.) The Greek term Apotheosis, probably a coinage of the Hellenistic epoch, becomes more nearly technical for the deification of dead emperors. But it is still used simply for the erection of tombs (clearly so in some Greek inscriptions, Corpus Inscript. Graec. 2831, 2832, quoted in Pauly-Wissowa, s.v. Apotheosis). Possibly there is a trace of ancestor worship even here; but the two usages have diverged. The squib of the philosopher Seneca on the memory of Claudius (d. A.D. 54), Apocolocyntosis (“pumpkinification”), is evidence that, as early as Seneca’s lifetime, apotheosis was in use for the recognition of a departed emperor as a god. It also indicates how much contempt might be associated with this pretended worship. The people, says 207 Suetonius (Jul. Caes. c. 88), fully believed in the divinity of Julius Caesar, hinting at the same time that this was by no means the case with the majority of the apotheoses subsequently decreed by the senate. Yet we learn from Capitolinus that Marcus Aurelius was still worshipped as a household divinity in the time of Diocletian, and was believed to impart revelations in dreams (Vit. M. Ant. c. 18). Antinous, the favourite of Hadrian, was adored in Egypt a century after his death (Origen, Contra Celsum, iii. 36), though, according to Boissier, his worship never had official sanction. The ceremonies attendant on an imperial apotheosis are very fully described by Herodianus (bk. iv. c. 2) on occasion of the obsequies of Severus, which he appears to have witnessed. The most significant was the liberation, at the moment of kindling the funeral pyre, of an eagle which was supposed to bear the emperor’s soul to heaven. Sharp-sighted persons had actually beheld the ascension of Augustus (Suet. August, c. 100), and of Drusilla, sister of Caligula. Representations of apotheoses occur on several works of art; the most important are the apotheosis of Homer on a relief in the Townley collection of the British Museum, that of Titus on the arch of Titus, and that of Augustus on a magnificent cameo in the Louvre.

The Romans, until the end of the Republic, recognized only one official apotheosis; the god Quirinus, whatever his original significance, had been identified with Romulus. However, Emperor Augustus continued the tradition of ancient governance by having Julius Caesar recognized as a god (divus Julius), the first in a new group of proper deities (divi). This tradition continued consistently and was extended to some women in the imperial family and even to favored courtiers. Worship of an emperor during his lifetime, except as the worship of his genius, was generally limited to the provinces, with the rare exceptions of Caligula and Domitian. Apotheosis after death, managed by the senate, did not stop immediately, even after Christianity was officially embraced. The Latin term is consecratio, which has various meanings, including simple burial. (Inscription in G. Boissier, La Religion romaine; Renier, Inscriptions d’Algiers, 2510.) The Greek term Apotheosis, likely coined during the Hellenistic period, became more specifically associated with the deification of deceased emperors. Still, it was also used simply for the erection of tombs (clearly seen in some Greek inscriptions, Corpus Inscript. Graec. 2831, 2832, cited in Pauly-Wissowa, s.v. Apotheosis). There might be a hint of ancestor worship present; however, the two terms have diverged. The satirical work of philosopher Seneca on the memory of Claudius (d. CE 54), Apocolocyntosis (“pumpkinification”), shows that even in Seneca’s time, apotheosis was used to recognize a deceased emperor as a god. It also suggests how much disdain could accompany this pretended worship. The people, as noted by 207 Suetonius (Jul. Caes. c. 88), fully believed in the divinity of Julius Caesar, while hinting that this wasn't the case for most subsequent apotheoses decreed by the senate. However, we learn from Capitolinus that Marcus Aurelius was still worshipped as a household god during Diocletian's reign and was believed to provide revelations in dreams (Vit. M. Ant. c. 18). Antinous, Hadrian’s favorite, was venerated in Egypt a century after his death (Origen, Contra Celsum, iii. 36), although according to Boissier, his worship never had official endorsement. The ceremonies surrounding an imperial apotheosis are extensively described by Herodianus (bk. iv. c. 2) during the funeral rites of Severus, which he seems to have witnessed. The most significant moment was the release, at the time of igniting the funeral pyre, of an eagle thought to carry the emperor’s soul to heaven. Observant individuals reportedly witnessed the ascent of Augustus (Suet. August, c. 100) and of Drusilla, Caligula’s sister. Depictions of apotheoses appear in several works of art; the most notable include the apotheosis of Homer on a relief in the Townley collection at the British Museum, that of Titus on the arch of Titus, and that of Augustus on a stunning cameo at the Louvre.

In China at the present day many Taoist gods are (or are given out as) men deified for service to the state. This again may be statecraft. In India, the (still unexplained) rise of the doctrine of transmigration hindered belief. Apotheosis can mean nothing to those who hold that a man may be reborn as a god, but still needs redemption, and that men on earth may win redemption, if they are brave enough. Curiously, Buddhism itself is ruled by the ghost or shadowy remainder of belief in transmigration—Karma.

In today's China, many Taoist gods are either considered or presented as men who were elevated to divine status for their contributions to the state. This might also be a form of statecraft. In India, the still-unexplained emergence of the doctrine of transmigration complicated belief systems. Apotheosis means little to those who believe a person can be reborn as a god but still requires redemption, and that people on earth can achieve redemption if they're courageous enough. Interestingly, Buddhism is influenced by the lingering concept of transmigration—Karma.

Apotheosis may also be used in wider senses. (a) Some (e.g. Herbert Spencer) hold that most gods are deified men, and most myths historical traditions which have been grotesquely distorted. This theory is known as Euhemerism (see Euhemerus). It is needless to say that the attitude of those holding the Euhemerist theory is at the farthest pole from belief in apotheosis. According to the latter, some men may become gods. According to the former, all gods are but men; or, some men have been erroneously supposed to become gods. The Euhemerist theory mainly appeals to ancestor worship—a fact of undoubted importance in the history of religion, especially in China and in ancient Rome. In India, too, a dead person treated with funeral honours becomes a guardian spirit—if neglected, a tormenting demon. But whether the great gods of polytheism were really transfigured ancestors is very doubtful. (b) Again, there is a tendency to offer something like worship to the founders of religions. Thus more than human honour is paid to Zoroaster and Buddha and even to the founders of systems not strictly religious, e.g. to Confucius and Auguste Comte. It is noticeable that this kind of worship is not accorded in rigidly monotheistic systems, e.g. to Moses and Mahomet. Nor is it accurate to speak of apotheosis in cases where the founder is in his lifetime regarded as the incarnation of a god (cf. Ali among Shi’ite Mahommedans; the Băb in Babism; the Druse Hakim). Most Christians on this ground repudiate the application of the term to the worship of Jesus Christ. Curiously, Apotheosis is used by the Latin Christian poet, Prudentius (c. 400), as the title of a poem defending orthodox views on the person of Christ and other points of doctrine—the affectation of a decadent age. (c) The worship paid to Saints, in those Christian churches which admit it, is formally distinguished as dulia (δουλεία) from true worship or latria (λατρεία). Even the Virgin Mary, though she is styled Mother of God and Queen of Heaven, receives only dulia or at most hyperdulia.

Apotheosis can also be interpreted in broader terms. (a) Some people, like Herbert Spencer, believe that most gods are actually deified humans and that most myths are historical accounts that have been seriously distorted. This view is known as Euhemerism (see Euhemerus). It goes without saying that those who support the Euhemerist perspective are completely opposed to the belief in apotheosis. The belief in apotheosis holds that some humans can become gods. In contrast, Euhemerism claims that all gods are merely men, or that some individuals have mistakenly been regarded as gods. The Euhemerist theory primarily connects to ancestor worship, which is a significant aspect of the history of religion, especially in China and ancient Rome. In India, a deceased person given funeral honors becomes a guardian spirit; if neglected, they turn into a tormented demon. However, it remains questionable whether the great gods of polytheism were truly transformed ancestors. (b) Additionally, there’s a trend to give something resembling worship to the founders of religions. Figures like Zoroaster and Buddha, as well as founders of systems not strictly religious, like Confucius and Auguste Comte, receive more than human honor. It’s notable that this type of worship is not offered in strictly monotheistic traditions, such as the worship of Moses and Muhammad. Moreover, it's inaccurate to use the term apotheosis when the founder is seen as the embodiment of a god during their lifetime (e.g., Ali among Shi’ite Muslims; the Băb in Babism; the Druse Hakim). Most Christians reject the application of this term to the worship of Jesus Christ for this reason. Interestingly, Apotheosis is used by the Latin Christian poet Prudentius (circa 400) as the title of a poem defending orthodox views about Christ and several doctrinal issues—an indication of a declining age. (c) In those Christian churches that allow it, the veneration of Saints is formally distinguished as dulia (slavery) from true worship or latria (worship). Even the Virgin Mary, who is called Mother of God and Queen of Heaven, receives only dulia or at most hyperdulia.

(R. G.; R. Ma.)

APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS, the general name given to a vast system of elevations in North America, partly in Canada, but mostly in the United States, extending as a zone, from 100 to 300 m. wide, from Newfoundland, Gaspé Peninsula and New Brunswick, 1500 m. south-westward to central Alabama. The whole system may be divided into three great sections: the Northern, from Newfoundland to the Hudson river; the Central, from the Hudson Valley to that of New river (Great Kanawha), in Virginia and West Virginia; and the Southern, from New river onwards. The northern section includes the Shickshock Mountains and Notre Dame Range in Quebec, scattered elevations in Maine, the White Mountains and the Green Mountains; the central comprises, besides various minor groups, the Valley Ridges between the Front of the Allegheny Plateau and the Great Appalachian Valley, the New York-New Jersey Highlands and a large portion of the Blue Ridge; and the southern consists of the prolongation of the Blue Ridge, the Unaka Range, and the Valley Ridges adjoining the Cumberland Plateau, with some lesser ranges.

APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS, is the general term for a massive system of elevations in North America, partly in Canada but mostly in the United States. It stretches as a zone, between 100 and 300 m wide, from Newfoundland, the Gaspé Peninsula, and New Brunswick, about 1500 m southwestward to central Alabama. The entire system can be divided into three major sections: the Northern, which runs from Newfoundland to the Hudson River; the Central, spanning from the Hudson Valley to the New River (Great Kanawha) in Virginia and West Virginia; and the Southern, which starts from the New River onward. The northern section includes the Shickshock Mountains and the Notre Dame Range in Quebec, various elevations in Maine, the White Mountains, and the Green Mountains. The central section contains, along with several minor groups, the Valley Ridges between the front of the Allegheny Plateau and the Great Appalachian Valley, the New York-New Jersey Highlands, and a large part of the Blue Ridge. The southern section consists of the continuation of the Blue Ridge, the Unaka Range, and the Valley Ridges next to the Cumberland Plateau, along with some smaller ranges.

The Chief Summits.—The Appalachian belt includes, with the ranges enumerated above, the plateaus sloping southward to the Atlantic Ocean in New England, and south-eastward to the border of the coastal plain through the central and southern Atlantic states; and on the north-west, the Allegheny and Cumberland plateaus declining toward the Great Lakes and the interior plains. A remarkable feature of the belt is the longitudinal chain of broad valleys—the Great Appalachian Valley—which, in the southerly sections divides the mountain system into two subequal portions, but in the northernmost lies west of all the ranges possessing typical Appalachian features, and separates them from the Adirondack group. The mountain system has no axis of dominating altitudes, but in every portion the summits rise to rather uniform heights, and, especially in the central section, the various ridges and intermontane valleys have the same trend as the system itself. None of the summits reaches the region of perpetual snow. Mountains of the Long Range in Newfoundland reach heights of nearly 2000 ft. In the Shickshocks the higher summits rise to about 4000 ft. elevation. In Maine four peaks exceed 3000 ft., including Katahdin (5200 ft.), Mount Washington, in the White Mountains (6293 ft.), Adams (5805), Jefferson (5725), Clay (5554), Monroe (5390), Madison (5380), Lafayette (5269); and a number of summits rise above 4000 ft. In the Green Mountains the highest point, Mansfield, is 4364 ft.; Lincoln (4078), Killington (4241), Camel Hump (4088); and a number of other heights exceed 3000 ft. The Catskills are not properly included in the system. The Blue Ridge, rising in southern Pennsylvania and there known as South Mountain, attains in that state elevations of about 2000 ft.; southward to the Potomac its altitudes diminish, but 30 m. beyond again reach 2000 ft. In the Virginia Blue Ridge the following are the highest peaks east of New river: Mount Weather (about 1850 ft.), Mary’s Rock (3523), Peaks of Otter (4001 and 3875), Stony Man (4031), Hawks Bill (4066). In Pennsylvania the summits of the Valley Ridges rise generally to about 2000 ft., and in Maryland Eagle Rock and Dans Rock are conspicuous points reaching 3162 ft. and 2882 ft. above the sea. On the same side of the Great Valley, south of the Potomac, are the Pinnacle (3007 ft.) and Pidgeon Roost (3400 ft.). In the southern section of the Blue Ridge are Grandfather Mountain (5964 ft.), with three other summits above 5000, and a dozen more above 4000. The Unaka Ranges (including the Black and Smoky Mountains) have eighteen peaks higher than 5000 ft., and eight surpassing 6000 ft. In the Black Mountains, Mitchell (the culminating point of the whole system) attains an altitude of 6711 ft., Balsam Cone, 6645, Black Brothers, 6690, and 6620, and Hallback, 6403. In the Smoky Mountains we have Clingman’s Peak (6611), Guyot (6636), Alexander (6447), Leconte (6612), Curtis (6588), with several others above 6000 and many higher than 5000.

The Chief Summits.—The Appalachian region includes, along with the ranges mentioned earlier, the plateaus sloping southward to the Atlantic Ocean in New England and southeastward to the edge of the coastal plain through the central and southern Atlantic states. To the northwest are the Allegheny and Cumberland plateaus, which decline toward the Great Lakes and the interior plains. A notable feature of the region is the long chain of broad valleys—the Great Appalachian Valley—which in the southern areas divides the mountain system into two roughly equal parts, but in the northernmost section lies west of all the ranges that have typical Appalachian characteristics, separating them from the Adirondack group. The mountain system doesn’t have a single dominant peak, but in every area, the summits rise to fairly uniform heights. This is especially true in the central section, where the different ridges and intermontane valleys follow the same general direction as the system itself. None of the summits reach the area of permanent snow. The Long Range mountains in Newfoundland reach heights of nearly 2000 ft. In the Shickshocks, the higher peaks rise to about 4000 ft. In Maine, four peaks exceed 3000 ft., including Katahdin (5200 ft.), Mount Washington in the White Mountains (6293 ft.), Adams (5805), Jefferson (5725), Clay (5554), Monroe (5390), Madison (5380), and Lafayette (5269); several other summits go over 4000 ft. In the Green Mountains, the highest point, Mansfield, is 4364 ft.; Lincoln (4078), Killington (4241), Camel Hump (4088); and several other elevations exceed 3000 ft. The Catskills are not properly part of the system. The Blue Ridge, which rises in southern Pennsylvania and is known there as South Mountain, reaches elevations of about 2000 ft.; southward to the Potomac, its heights decrease, but 30 miles beyond, they reach 2000 ft. again. In the Virginia Blue Ridge, the highest peaks east of the New River are: Mount Weather (about 1850 ft.), Mary’s Rock (3523), Peaks of Otter (4001 and 3875), Stony Man (4031), and Hawks Bill (4066). In Pennsylvania, the summits of the Valley Ridges generally rise to about 2000 ft., and in Maryland, Eagle Rock and Dans Rock are notable points at 3162 ft. and 2882 ft. above sea level. On the same side of the Great Valley, south of the Potomac, are the Pinnacle (3007 ft.) and Pidgeon Roost (3400 ft.). In the southern part of the Blue Ridge, Grandfather Mountain (5964 ft.) has three other peaks over 5000 ft. and a dozen more above 4000 ft. The Unaka Ranges (which include the Black and Smoky Mountains) have eighteen peaks over 5000 ft., and eight that exceed 6000 ft. In the Black Mountains, Mitchell (the highest point of the whole system) reaches an altitude of 6711 ft., Balsam Cone is 6645 ft., Black Brothers are 6690 and 6620, and Hallback is 6403. In the Smoky Mountains, we have Clingman’s Peak (6611), Guyot (6636), Alexander (6447), Leconte (6612), Curtis (6588), with several others above 6000 ft. and many higher than 5000 ft.

In spite of the existence of the Great Appalachian Valley, the master streams are transverse to the axis of the system. The main watershed follows a tortuous course which crosses the mountainous belt just north of New river in Virginia; south of this the rivers head in the Blue Ridge, cross the higher Unakas, receive important tributaries from the Great Valley, and traversing the Cumberland Plateau in spreading gorges, escape by way of the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers to the Ohio and Mississippi, and thus to the Gulf of Mexico; in the central section the rivers, rising in or beyond the Valley Ridges, flow through 208 great gorges (water gaps) to the Great Valley, and by south-easterly courses across the Blue Ridge to tidal estuaries penetrating the coastal plain; in the northern section the water-parting lies on the inland side of the mountainous belt, the main lines of drainage running from north to south.

In spite of the Great Appalachian Valley, the major rivers run across the system instead of along it. The main watershed takes a winding path that crosses the mountain range just north of New River in Virginia. South of this point, the rivers start in the Blue Ridge, pass through the higher Unakas, gather significant tributaries from the Great Valley, and flow through the Cumberland Plateau in broad gorges. They then exit through the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers to the Ohio and Mississippi, ultimately reaching the Gulf of Mexico. In the central section, the rivers, which rise in or beyond the Valley Ridges, flow through large gorges (water gaps) into the Great Valley, and take southeast paths across the Blue Ridge to tidal estuaries that penetrate the coastal plain. In the northern section, the water divide is on the inland side of the mountain range, with the main drainage lines running from north to south.

Geology.—The rocks of the Appalachian belt fall naturally into two divisions; ancient (pre-Cambrian) crystallines, including marbles, schists, gneisses, granites and other massive igneous rocks, and a great succession of Paleozoic sediments. The crystallines are confined to the portion of the belt east of the Great Valley where Paleozoic rocks are always highly metamorphosed and occur for the most part in limited patches, excepting in New England and Canada, where they assume greater areal importance, and are besides very generally intruded by granites. The Paleozoic sediments, ranging in age from Cambrian to Permian, occupy the Great Valley, the Valley Ridges and the plateaus still farther west. They are rarely metamorphosed to the point of recrystallization, though locally shales are altered to roofing slates, sandstones are indurated, limestones slightly marblized, and coals, originally bituminous, are changed to anthracite in northern Pennsylvania, and to graphite in Rhode Island. Igneous intrusions consist only of unimportant dikes of trap. The most striking and uniformly characteristic geologic feature of the mountains is their internal structure, consisting of innumerable parallel, long and narrow folds, always closely appressed in the eastern part of any cross-section (Piedmont Plateau to Great Valley), less so along a central zone (Great Valley and Valley Ridges), and increasingly open on the west (Allegheny and Cumberland Plateaus). Asymmetry of the folds is a marked characteristic in the zones of closer folding, the anticlines having long gently inclined easterly limbs, and short, steep and even overturned limbs upon the west. The effect of such folds is often exaggerated by thrusts, and faulting of this sort is prominent in the southern section, where the existence of over-thrusts measured by several miles has been established.

Geology.—The rocks of the Appalachian belt can be divided into two main categories: ancient (pre-Cambrian) crystalline rocks, which include marbles, schists, gneisses, granites, and other large igneous formations, and a long sequence of Paleozoic sediments. The crystalline rocks are found only in the section of the belt east of the Great Valley, where Paleozoic rocks are usually highly metamorphosed and mostly exist in small areas, except in New England and Canada, where they are more widespread and often intruded by granites. The Paleozoic sediments, dating from Cambrian to Permian periods, are located in the Great Valley, the Valley Ridges, and further west on the plateaus. They are rarely metamorphosed enough to recrystallize, though locally some shales are transformed into roofing slates, sandstones are hardened, limestones are slightly marblized, and coals, which were originally bituminous, are converted into anthracite in northern Pennsylvania and graphite in Rhode Island. The igneous intrusions consist primarily of minor dikes of trap. The most notable and consistent geological feature of the mountains is their internal structure, made up of countless parallel, long, and narrow folds that are tightly compressed in the eastern part of any cross-section (from the Piedmont Plateau to the Great Valley), less so in the central region (Great Valley and Valley Ridges), and more open on the western side (Allegheny and Cumberland Plateaus). The asymmetry of the folds is a distinct characteristic in areas with tighter folding, where the anticlines have long, gently sloping eastern sides and short, steep, and sometimes overturned western sides. The impact of such folds is often intensified by thrusts, and this type of faulting is especially pronounced in the southern section, where significant over-thrusts measured in miles have been identified.

What may be termed the ancestral Appalachian system was formed during the post-carboniferous revolution, though certain of its elements had been previously outlined, and perhaps at different dates. Folding of the rocks resulted from the operation of great compressive forces acting tangentially to the figure of the earth. Extensive and deep-seated crumpling was necessarily accompanied by vertical uplift throughout the zone affected, but once at least since their birth the mountains have been worn down to a lowland, and the mountains of to-day are the combined product of subsequent uplift of a different sort, and dissection by erosion. Produced by long-continued subaerial decay and erosion, in later Cretaceous times this lowland extended from the Atlantic Ocean well toward the interior of North America; since then the whole continent has been generally elevated, and by successive steps the Appalachian belt has been raised to form a wide but relatively low arch. The crosswise courses of the greater rivers result from the rivers being older than the mountains, which indeed have been produced by circumdenudation. The master streams of the present have inherited their channels from the drainage systems of the Cretaceous lowland, and though raised athwart the courses of the lowland trunk streams the great arch was developed so slowly that these channels could be maintained through pari passu deepening. Former tributaries have given place to others developed with reference to the distribution of more or less easily eroded strata, the present longitudinal valleys being determined by the out-crop of soft shales or soluble limestones, and the parallel ridges upheld by hard sandstones or schists. Parallelism of mountain ridges and intervening valleys is thus attributable to the folding of the rocks, but the origin of the interior structure of the mountains is to be kept distinct from the origin of the mountains as features of topography.

What can be called the ancestral Appalachian system was formed after the Carboniferous period, although some of its features had been defined earlier and possibly at different times. The folding of the rocks was caused by massive compressive forces acting against the Earth's shape. The extensive and deep crumpling resulted in vertical uplift in the affected area, but at least once since they formed, the mountains were eroded down to flatlands. Today’s mountains are the result of later uplift of a different kind and erosion. During the late Cretaceous period, this lowland stretched from the Atlantic Ocean well into the interior of North America. Since then, the entire continent has generally risen, and through successive movements, the Appalachian range has been lifted to create a broad but relatively low arch. The crosswise paths of the major rivers come from the rivers being older than the mountains, which were created by erosional processes. Today's major rivers have inherited their paths from the drainage systems of the Cretaceous lowland. Although the great arch developed slowly, allowing these channels to remain through steady deepening, former tributaries have been replaced by others that formed according to the distribution of more easily eroded layers. The current long valleys are shaped by soft shales or soluble limestones, while the parallel ridges are supported by harder sandstones or schists. The parallel arrangement of mountain ridges and the valleys in between is due to the folding of the rocks, but the origin of the inner structure of the mountains should be considered separately from the mountains' features as part of the landscape.

Flora and Fauna.—Much of the region is covered with forest yielding quantities of valuable timber, especially in Canada and northern New England. The most valuable trees for lumber are spruce, white pine, hemlock, cedar, white birch, ash, maple and basswood; all excepting pine and hemlock and poplar in addition are ground into wood pulp for the manufacture of paper. In the central and southern parts of the belt oak and hickory constitute valuable hard woods, and certain varieties of the former furnish quantities of tan bark. The tulip tree produces a good clear lumber known as white wood or poplar, and is also a source of pulp. In the south both white and yellow pine abounds. Many flowering and fruit-bearing shrubs of the heath family add to the beauty of the mountainous districts, rhododendron and kalmia often forming impenetrable thickets. Bears, mountain lions (pumas), wild cats (lynx) and wolves haunt the more remote fastnesses of the mountains; foxes abound; deer are found in many districts and moose in the north.

Flora and Fauna.—Much of the area is covered in forests that provide lots of valuable timber, especially in Canada and northern New England. The most valuable trees for lumber include spruce, white pine, hemlock, cedar, white birch, ash, maple, and basswood; all except pine, hemlock, and poplar are also processed into wood pulp for paper production. In the central and southern parts of the region, oak and hickory are important hardwoods, with some oak varieties providing a significant amount of tanbark. The tulip tree yields good quality lumber known as white wood or poplar, and it is also a source of pulp. In the South, both white and yellow pine are plentiful. Many flowering and fruit-bearing shrubs from the heath family enhance the beauty of the mountainous regions, with rhododendrons and kalmia often creating dense thickets. Bears, mountain lions (pumas), wildcats (lynx), and wolves inhabit the more remote mountain areas; foxes are plentiful; deer can be found in many regions, and moose are present in the north.

Influence on History.—For a century the Appalachians were a barrier to the westward expansion of the English colonies; the continuity of the system, the bewildering multiplicity of its succeeding ridges, the tortuous courses and roughness of its transverse passes, a heavy forest and dense undergrowth all conspired to hold the settlers on the seaward-sloping plateaus and coastal plains. Only by way of the Hudson and Mohawk valleys, and round about the southern termination of the system were there easy routes to the interior of the country, and these were long closed by hostile aborigines and jealous French or Spanish colonists. In eastern Pennsylvania the Great Valley was accessible by reason of a broad gateway between the end of South Mountain and the Highlands, and here in the Lebanon Valley settled German Moravians, whose descendants even now retain the peculiar patois known as “Pennsylvania Dutch.” These were late comers to the New World forced to the frontier to find unclaimed lands. With their followers of both German and Scotch-Irish origin, they worked their way southward and soon occupied all of the Virginia Valley and the upper reaches of the Great Valley tributaries of the Tennessee. By 1755 the obstacle to westward expansion had been thus reduced by half; outposts of the English colonists had penetrated the Allegheny and Cumberland plateaus, threatening French monopoly in the transmontane region, and a conflict became inevitable. Making common cause against the French to determine the control of the Ohio valley, the unsuspected strength of the colonists was revealed, and the successful ending of the French and Indian War extended England’s territory to the Mississippi. To this strength the geographic isolation enforced by the Appalachian mountains had been a prime contributor. The confinement of the colonies between an ocean and a mountain wall led to the fullest occupation of the coastal border of the continent, which was possible under existing conditions of agriculture, conducing to a community of purpose, a political and commercial solidarity, which would not otherwise have been developed. As early as 1700 it was possible to ride from Portland, Maine, to southern Virginia, sleeping each night at some considerable village. In contrast to this complete industrial occupation, the French territory was held by a small and very scattered population, its extent and openness adding materially to the difficulties of a disputed tenure. Bearing the brunt of this contest as they did, the colonies were undergoing preparation for the subsequent struggle with the home government. Unsupported by shipping, the American armies fought toward the sea with the mountains at their back protecting them against Indians leagued with the British. The few settlements beyond the Great Valley were free for self-defence because debarred from general participation in the conflict by reason of their position.

Influence on History.—For a century, the Appalachians were a barrier to the westward expansion of the English colonies; the continuity of the range, the confusing number of its successive ridges, the winding paths and roughness of its crossing points, along with a heavy forest and dense underbrush, all worked to keep settlers on the seaward-sloping plateaus and coastal plains. The only easy routes into the interior were through the Hudson and Mohawk valleys, and around the southern end of the range, but these were largely blocked by hostile Native Americans and competing French or Spanish colonists. In eastern Pennsylvania, the Great Valley was accessible through a wide gap between the end of South Mountain and the Highlands, where German Moravians settled in the Lebanon Valley; their descendants still speak the unique dialect known as “Pennsylvania Dutch.” These settlers were late arrivals in the New World, pushed to the frontier in search of unclaimed land. Along with those of both German and Scotch-Irish descent, they moved south and quickly took over all of the Virginia Valley and the upper tributaries of the Tennessee River. By 1755, the barriers to westward expansion had been cut in half; outposts of English colonists had reached the Allegheny and Cumberland plateaus, threatening French control in the region beyond the mountains, making conflict unavoidable. Joining forces against the French to gain control of the Ohio Valley revealed the surprising strength of the colonists, and the successful conclusion of the French and Indian War expanded England’s territory to the Mississippi River. The geographic isolation enforced by the Appalachian mountains played a crucial role in this strength. The confinement of the colonies between an ocean and a mountain range led to maximum settlement of the coastal areas of the continent, fostering a shared purpose and political and economic unity that might not have developed otherwise. By 1700, it was possible to travel from Portland, Maine, to southern Virginia, spending each night in a substantial village. In stark contrast, French territories were held by a small and widely dispersed population, and the vastness and openness of the land created significant challenges to disputed claims. Enduring the pressures of this struggle, the colonies were being prepared for their future conflict with the home government. Cut off from naval support, the American armies fought toward the sea with the mountains behind them, protecting them from Native Americans allied with the British. The few settlements beyond the Great Valley were free to defend themselves since their location prevented them from participating in the broader conflict.

See the separate articles on the states, and also the following references:—Topographic maps and Geologic Folios of the United States Geological Survey; Bailey Willis, “The Northern Appalachians,” and C.W. Hayes, “The Southern Appalachians,” both in National Geographic Monographs, vol. i.; and chaps, iii., iv. and v. of Miss E.C. Semple’s American History and its Geographic Conditions (Boston, 1903).

See the separate articles on the states, and also the following references:—Topographic maps and Geologic Folios of the United States Geological Survey; Bailey Willis, “The Northern Appalachians,” and C.W. Hayes, “The Southern Appalachians,” both in National Geographic Monographs, vol. i.; and chaps. iii., iv., and v. of Miss E.C. Semple’s American History and its Geographic Conditions (Boston, 1903).

(A. C. Sp.)

APPANAGE, or Apanage (a French word from the late Lat. apanagium, formed from apanare, i.e. panem porrigere, to give bread, i.e. sustenance), in its original sense, the means of subsistence given by parents to their younger children as distinct 209 from the rights secured to the eldest born by the custom of primogeniture. In its modern usage it is practically confined to the money endowment given to the younger children of reigning or mediatized houses in Germany and Austria, which reverts to the state or to the head of the family on the extinction of the line of the original grantee. In English history the system of appanages never played any great part, and the term is now properly applied only to the appanages of the crown: the duchy of Cornwall, assigned to the king’s eldest son at birth, or on his father’s accession to the crown, and the duchy of Lancaster. In the history of France, however, the appanage was a very important factor. The word denotes in very early French law the portion of lands or money given by fathers and mothers to their sons or daughters on marriage, and usually connotes a renunciation by the latter of any future inheritance; or it may denote the portion given by the eldest son to his brothers and sisters when he was sole inheritor. The word apanage is still employed in this sense in French official texts of some Customs; but it was in old public law that it received its definite meaning and importance. Under the kings of the third dynasty, the division of the kingdom among the sons of the dead monarch which had characterized the Merovingian and Carolingian dynasties, ceased. The eldest son alone succeeded to the crown; but at the same time a custom was established by which the king made territorial provision suitable to their rank for his other children or for his brothers and sisters; custom forbade their being left landless. Lands and lordships thus bestowed constituted the appanages, which interfered so greatly with the formation of ancient France. While the persevering policy of the Capets, which aimed at reuniting the great fiefs, duchies, countships, baronies, &c., to the domain of the crown, gradually reconstructed for their benefit a territorial sovereignty over France, the institution of the appanage periodically subtracted large portions from it. Louis XI., in particular, had to struggle against the appanaged nobles. The old law, however, never abolished this institution. The edict of Moulins (1566) maintained it, as one of the exceptions to the inalienability of the crown-lands; only it was then decided that daughters of France should be appanaged in money, or that if, in default of coin, lands were assigned to them, these lands should be redeemable by the crown in perpetuity. The efforts of the kings to minimize this evil, and of the old jurisprudence to deal with the matter, resulted in two expedients: (1) the reversion of the appanage to the crown was secured as far as possible, being declared inalienable and transmissible only to male descendants in the male line of the person appanaged; (2) originally the person appanaged had possessed all the rights of a duke or count—that is to say, in the middle ages nearly all the attributes of sovereignty; the more important of these attributes were now gradually reserved to the monarch, including public authority over the inhabitants of the appanage in all essential matters. However, it is evident from the letters of appanage, dated April 1771, in favour of the count of Provence, how many functions of public authority an appanaged person still held. The Constituent Assembly, by the law dated the 22nd of November 1790, decided that in future there should be no appanages in real estate, and that younger sons of monarchs, married and over twenty-five years of age, should be provided for by yearly grants (rentes apanagères) from the public funds. The laws of the 13th of August and the 21st of December 1790 revoked all the existing appanages, except those of the Luxembourg Palace and the Palais Royal. To each person hitherto appanaged an annual income of one million livres was assigned, and two millions for the brothers of the king. All this came to an end with the monarchy. Napoleon, by the sénatus-consulte of the 30th of January 1810, resolved to create appanages for the emperor’s princely descendants, such appanages to consist for the most part of lands on French soil. The fall of the empire again annulled this enactment. The last appanage known in France was that enjoyed by the house of Orleans. Having been re-established, or recognized as still existing, by the Restoration, it was formally confirmed by the law of the 15th of January 1825. On the accession of Louis Philippe it was united to the national property by the law of the 2nd of March 1832.

APPANAGE, or Apanage (a French term derived from late Latin apanagium, formed from apanare, i.e. panem porrigere, meaning to give bread, i.e. sustenance), originally referred to the means of support provided by parents to their younger children, unlike the rights reserved for the eldest child due to the custom of primogeniture. In contemporary usage, it is mostly limited to the financial support given to the younger children of ruling or mediatized families in Germany and Austria, which reverts to the state or to the head of the family if the original grantee's line ends. In English history, the system of appanages hasn't been very significant, and the term is now properly applied only to the appanages of the crown: the Duchy of Cornwall, given to the king's eldest son at birth or when his father takes the crown, and the Duchy of Lancaster. However, in French history, the appanage was quite significant. The term refers to the land or money given by parents to their children at marriage and often implies a waiver by the recipients of any future inheritance; it can also mean the portion that the eldest son gives to his siblings when he is the sole heir. The word apanage is still used in this sense in some French official legal texts; however, it gained its clear meaning and significance in old public law. Under the kings of the third dynasty, the division of the kingdom among the sons of the deceased monarch, which marked the Merovingian and Carolingian dynasties, came to an end. The eldest son solely inherited the crown, but a custom emerged where the king provided suitable land for his other children or siblings; tradition forbade them from being left without land. The lands and titles thus granted constituted the appanages, significantly influencing the development of ancient France. While the persistent efforts of the Capetians aimed at reuniting the large fiefs, duchies, countships, baronies, etc., to the crown's domain, the institution of appanage periodically took significant portions away from it. Louis XI., in particular, contended with the nobles who held appanages. However, the old law never terminated this institution. The Edict of Moulins (1566) upheld it as an exception to the non-transferability of crown lands; it was then decided that daughters of France would receive appanages in money, or if they received land instead, it would be redeemable by the crown indefinitely. The efforts of the kings to reduce this problem and of the old legal system to handle it resulted in two solutions: (1) the ownership of the appanage would revert to the crown as much as possible, being declared non-transferable and passed only to male descendants in the male line of the recipient; (2) initially, the appanaged had all the rights of a duke or count, meaning nearly all the powers of sovereignty in the Middle Ages; over time, many of these powers were gradually reserved for the monarch, including public authority over the subjects in the appanage regarding essential matters. However, it's clear from the letters of appanage, dated April 1771, in favor of the Count of Provence, that an appanaged individual still retained many public authority functions. The Constituent Assembly, by the law dated November 22, 1790, ruled that there would be no future appanages in real estate, and that younger sons of monarchs, married and over twenty-five years of age, should be supported by annual grants (rentes apanagères) from public funds. The laws of August 13 and December 21, 1790, revoked all existing appanages, except those of the Luxembourg Palace and the Palais Royal. Each person previously granted an appanage was assigned an annual income of one million livres, and two million for the king's brothers. All of this ceased with the monarchy. Napoleon, by the sénatus-consulte of January 30, 1810, planned to establish appanages for the emperor’s princely descendants, mostly consisting of lands in France. The fall of the empire again nullified this decree. The last known appanage in France was that of the House of Orleans. After being re-established or recognized during the Restoration, it was formally confirmed by the law of January 15, 1825. When Louis Philippe took the throne, it was combined with national property by the law of March 2, 1832.

For appanages in ancient law see the Essai sur les apanages ou mémoires historiques de leur établissement, attributed to Du Vaucel, about 1780.

For appanages in ancient law see the Essai sur les apanages ou mémoires historiques de leur établissement, attributed to Du Vaucel, around 1780.

(J. P. E.)

APPAREL (from O. Fr. aparail, aparailler, mod. appareil, from Low Lat. adpariculare, to make fit or equal), equipment, outfit, things furnished for the proper performance of anything, now chiefly used of dress. The word is also applied to the “orphreys,” i.e. embroidered strips or borders, on ecclesiastical vestments.

APPAREL (from Old French aparail, aparailler, modern appareil, from Low Latin adpariculare, meaning to make fit or equal), refers to equipment, outfits, and items provided for the proper execution of any activity, now primarily associated with clothing. The term is also used for the “orphreys,” i.e. embroidered strips or borders on religious garments.


APPARITIONS. An apparition, strictly speaking, is merely an appearance (Lat. apparere, to appear), the result of perception exercised on any stimulus of any of the senses. But in ordinary usage the word apparition denotes a perception (generally through the sense of sight) which cannot, as a rule, be shown to be occasioned by an object in external nature. We say “as a rule” because many so-called apparitions are merely illusions, i.e. misconstructions of the perceptive processes, as when a person in a bad light sees a number of small children leading a horse, and finds, on nearer approach, that he sees two men carrying bee-hives suspended from a pole. Again, Sir Walter Scott’s vision of Byron, then lately dead, proved to be a misconstruction of certain plaids and cloaks hanging in the hall at Abbotsford, or so Sir Walter declared. Had he not discovered the physical basis of this illusion (which, while it lasted, was an apparition, technically speaking), he and others might have thought that it was an apparition in the popular sense of the word, a ghost. In popular phraseology a ghost is understood to be a phantasm produced in some way by the spirit of a dead person, the impression being usually visual, though the ghost, or apparition, may also affect the sense of hearing (by words, knocks, whistles, groans and so forth), or the sense of touch, or of weight, as in the case of the “incubus.” In ordinary speech an apparition of a person not known to the percipient to be dead is called a wraith, in the Highland phrase, a spirit of the living. The terms ghost and wraith involve the hypothesis that the false perceptions are caused by spirits, a survival of the archaic animistic hypothesis (see Animism), an hypothesis as difficult to prove as to disprove. Apparitions, of course, are not confined to anthropomorphic phantasms; we hear of phantom coaches (sometimes seen, but more frequently heard), of phantom dogs, cats, horses, cattle, deer, and even of phantom houses.

APPARITIONS. An apparition, strictly speaking, is just an appearance (from Latin apparere, meaning to appear), resulting from our perception of any stimulus through our senses. However, in everyday language, the term apparition usually refers to a perception (primarily through sight) that generally cannot be proven to be caused by an object in the external world. We say “generally” because many so-called apparitions are simply illusions, like when someone in poor lighting sees a group of small children leading a horse, only to find up close that they are actually two men carrying beehives on a pole. Likewise, Sir Walter Scott’s vision of Byron, who had recently passed away, turned out to be a misinterpretation of some plaids and cloaks hanging in the hall at Abbotsford, or so Sir Walter claimed. Had he not identified the physical source of this illusion (which, while it lasted, was technically an apparition), he and others might have believed it was an apparition in the popular sense of the word, like a ghost. In common language, a ghost is understood to be a vision produced in some way by the spirit of a deceased person, with the impression typically being visual, although the ghost, or apparition, can also be auditory (through words, knocks, whistles, groans, etc.), or affect the sense of touch, or weight, as in the case of the “incubus.” In everyday speech, an apparition of a person whom the observer does not know to be dead is referred to as a wraith, in Highland terms, a spirit of the living. The terms ghost and wraith suggest that these false perceptions are the work of spirits, which reflects an outdated animistic belief (see Animism), an idea that's as hard to prove as it is to disprove. Apparitions, of course, are not limited to human-like figures; we also hear about phantom coaches (sometimes seen, but often just heard), as well as phantom dogs, cats, horses, cattle, deer, and even entire phantom houses.

Whatever may be the causes of these and other false perceptions,—most curious when the impression is shared by several witnesses,—they may best be considered under the head of hallucination (q.v.). Hallucinations may be pathological, i.e. the result of morbid conditions of brain or nerve, of disease, of fever, of insanity, of alcoholism, of the abuse of drugs. Again, they may be the result of dissociation, or may occur in the borderland of sleep or waking, and in this case they partake of the hallucinatory nature of dreams (q.v.). Again, hallucinations may, once or twice in a lifetime, come into the experience of the sane, the healthy, and, as far as any tests can be applied, of the wide-awake. In such instances the apparition (whether it take the form of a visual phantasm, of a recognized voice, of a touch, or what not) may be coincidental or non-coincidental. The phantasm is called coincidental if it represents a known and distant person who is later found to have been dying or in some other crisis at the moment of the percipient’s experience. When the false perception coincides with nothing of the sort, it is styled non-coincidental. Coincidental apparitions have been explained by the theory of telepathy (q.v.), one mind or brain impressing another in some unknown way so as to beget an hallucinatory apparition or phantasm. On the evidence, so far as it has been collected and analysed, it seems that the mind which, on the hypothesis, begets the hallucinations, usually does so without conscious effort (see Subliminal Self). There are, however, a few cases in which the experiment of begetting, in another, an hallucination from a distance, is said to have been experimentally and consciously made, with success.

Whatever the reasons for these and other false perceptions—particularly interesting when multiple witnesses share the same impression—they are best understood as hallucinations (q.v.). Hallucinations can be pathological, meaning they result from unhealthy conditions of the brain or nerves, diseases, fevers, insanity, alcoholism, or drug abuse. Additionally, they may arise from dissociation or occur in the transition between sleep and wakefulness, in which case they resemble the hallucinatory nature of dreams (q.v.). Sometimes, hallucinations may happen once or twice in a person's life, even among those who are sane, healthy, and alert. In these instances, the vision (whether it appears as a visual image, a familiar voice, a sensation, or something else) can be either coincidental or non-coincidental. A vision is termed coincidental if it depicts a known and distant person who is later discovered to have been dying or facing another crisis at the same moment as the person's experience. If the false perception does not match anything of the sort, it is described as non-coincidental. Coincidental apparitions have been explained by the theory of telepathy (q.v.), suggesting that one mind or brain can unknowingly influence another, leading to a hallucinatory experience. Based on the evidence collected and analyzed so far, it appears that the mind responsible for conjuring these hallucinations typically does so without conscious effort (see Subliminal Self). However, there are a few instances where the attempt to create a hallucination in another person from a distance has reportedly been successfully conducted in a deliberate and experimental manner.

If the telepathic theory of coincidental hallucinations be accepted, we have still to account for the much more common 210 non-coincidental apparitions of the living who do not happen to be in any particular crisis. In these instances it cannot be demonstrated that telepathy has not been at work, as when a person is seen at a place which he thought of visiting, but did not visit. F.W. Myers even upheld a theory of psychorhagy, holding that the spirits of some persons have a way of manifesting themselves at a distance by a psychic invasion. This involves, as he remarked, paleolithic psychology, and the old savage doctrine of animism, rather than telepathy (see Myers, Human Personality). Of belief in coincidental hallucinations or wraiths among savages, records are scanty; the belief, however, is found among Maoris and Fuegians (see Lang, Making of Religions). The perception of apparitions of distant but actual scenes and occurrences is usually called clairvoyance (q.v.). The belief is also familiar under the name of second sight (see Second Sight), a term of Scots usage, though the belief in it, and the facts if accepted, are of world-wide diffusion. The apparitions may either represent actual persons and places, or may be symbolical, taking the form of phantasmic lights, coffins, skeletons, shrouds and so forth. Again, the appearances may either represent things, persons and occurrences of the past (see Retrocognition), or of the present (clairvoyance), or of the future (see Premonition). When the apparitions produce themselves in given rooms, houses or localities, and are exhibited to various persons at various times, the locality is popularly said to be haunted by spirits, that is, of the dead, on the animistic hypothesis (see Hauntings). Like the other alleged facts, these are of world-wide diffusion, or the belief in them is world-wide, and peculiar to no race, age, or period of culture. A haunted place is a centre of permanent possibilities of hallucinations, or is believed to be so. A distinct species of hauntings are those in which unexplained sounds and movements of objects, apparently untouched, occur. The German term Poltergeist (q.v.) has been given to the supposed cause of these occurrences where the cause is not ascertained to be sportive imposture. In the performances of modern spiritualists the Poltergeist appears, as it were, to be domesticated, and to come at the call of the medium.

If we accept the telepathic theory of coincidental hallucinations, we still need to explain the much more frequent non-coincidental appearances of living people who aren't in any specific crisis. In these cases, we can't prove that telepathy has not been at work, such as when someone is seen in a place they thought about visiting but never actually went to. F.W. Myers even supported a theory of psychorhagy, claiming that the spirits of some individuals have a way of showing themselves from a distance through a psychic invasion. This involves, as he pointed out, primitive psychology and the ancient belief in animism, rather than telepathy (see Myers, Human Personality). Records about the belief in coincidental hallucinations or wraiths among primitive cultures are sparse; however, this belief is found among the Maoris and Fuegians (see Lang, Making of Religions). The perception of apparitions of distant but real scenes and events is typically referred to as clairvoyance (q.v.). This belief is also commonly known as second sight (see Second Sight), a term used in Scotland, although the belief and the facts, if accepted, are widespread globally. The apparitions may either represent actual people and places or may be symbolic, appearing as ghostly lights, coffins, skeletons, shrouds, and so on. Furthermore, the apparitions may depict things, people, and events from the past (see Retrocognition), the present (clairvoyance), or the future (see Premonition). When apparitions manifest in specific rooms, houses, or locations, and are witnessed by different people at different times, the location is commonly said to be haunted by spirits, that is, the dead, based on the animistic hypothesis (see Hauntings). Like other supposed phenomena, these beliefs are globally widespread and are not limited to any particular race, age, or cultural period. A haunted place is considered a center of ongoing potential hallucinations or is believed to be so. A distinct type of haunting involves unexplained sounds and movements of objects that seem untouched. The German term Poltergeist (q.v.) is used to describe the supposed cause of these occurrences when it is not identified as a playful hoax. In the activities of modern spiritualists, the Poltergeist appears to be, so to speak, domesticated and responds to the medium's call.

An intermittent kind of ominous haunting attached, not to places, but to families, is that of the banshee (Celtic) or family death omen, such as the white bird of the Oxenhams, the Airlie drummer, the spectral rider of Clan Gilzean, the rappings of the Woodde family. These apparitions, with fairies and djinns (the Arab form of fairy), haunt the borderland between folk-lore and psychical research.

An intermittent kind of ominous haunting is attached not to places, but to families, like the banshee (Celtic) or family death omen, such as the white bird of the Oxenhams, the Airlie drummer, the ghostly rider of Clan Gilzean, and the mysterious knocks associated with the Woodde family. These apparitions, along with fairies and djinns (the Arab version of fairies), linger in the space between folklore and paranormal studies.

So far we have been concerned with spontaneous apparitions, or with the belief in them. Among induced apparitions may be reckoned the materialized forms of spiritual séances, which have a material basis of veils, false moustaches, wigs and the corpus vile of the medium. It is also possible that mere expectancy and suggestion induce hallucinatory perceptions among the members of the circle. That apparitions of a sort can be induced by hypnotic and posthypnotic suggestion is certain enough (see Hypnotism). Savages produce apparitions in similar ways by suggestion, accompanied by dances, fumigations, darkness, fasting, drugs, and whatever can affect the imaginations of the onlookers (see Magic). Both in savage and civilized life, some persons can provoke themselves into beholding apparitions usually fantastic, but occasionally coincidental, by sedulously staring into any clear deep water, a fragment of rock crystal, a piece of polished basalt or obsidian, a mirror, a ring, a sword blade, or a glass of sherry (see Crystal Gazing). Indeed any object, a wall, the palm of the hand, the shoulder-blade-bone of a sheep, may be, and has been used to this end (see Divination).

So far, we've been focused on spontaneous apparitions or the belief in them. Induced apparitions can include the materialized forms seen at spiritual séances, which rely on a physical setup of veils, fake mustaches, wigs, and the medium's corpus vile. It's also possible that simply expecting something or being suggested to see it can create hallucinatory experiences among the participants. It's clear that apparitions can indeed be induced through hypnotic and post-hypnotic suggestion (see Hypnotism). People in primitive cultures produce apparitions similarly, using suggestion along with dances, smoke, darkness, fasting, drugs, and anything capable of stimulating the imaginations of those watching (see Magic). In both primitive and civilized societies, some individuals can conjure visions that are often fantastical but sometimes coincidental by intensely staring into any clear body of water, a piece of rock crystal, polished basalt or obsidian, a mirror, a ring, a sword blade, or even a glass of sherry (see Crystal Gazing). In fact, any object—a wall, the palm of the hand, the shoulder-blade bone of a sheep—can be and has been used for this purpose (see Divination).

Almost all known apparitions may accommodate themselves to one or other of the categories given, whether they be pathological, coincidental or spontaneous, induced, permanently localized, or sporadic.

Almost all known sightings can fit into one of the categories mentioned, whether they are pathological, coincidental, spontaneous, induced, permanently located, or sporadic.

(A. L.)

APPARITOR, or Apparator (Latin for a servant of a public official, from apparere, to attend in public), an attendant who executed the orders of a Roman magistrate; hence a beadle in a university, a pursuivant or herald; particularly, in English ecclesiastical courts, the official who serves the processes of the court and causes defendants to appear by summons.

APPARITOR or Apparatus (Latin for a servant of a public official, from apparere, to attend in public), is an attendant who carried out the orders of a Roman magistrate. This term can refer to a beadle in a university, a pursuivant, or a herald. Specifically, in English ecclesiastical courts, it denotes the official responsible for serving the court’s processes and summoning defendants to appear.


APPEAL, in law. In the old English common law the term “appeal” was used to describe a process peculiar to English criminal procedure. It was a right of prosecution possessed as a personal privilege by a party individually aggrieved by a felony, a privilege of which the crown could not directly or indirectly deprive him, since he could use it alike when the prisoner was tried and acquitted, and when he was convicted and pardoned. It was chiefly known in practice as the privilege of the nearest relation of a murdered person. When in 1729 (after Colonel Oglethorpe’s inquiry and report on the London prisons) Banbridge and other gaolers were indicted for their treatment of prisoners, but were acquitted for deficiency of evidence, appeals for murder were freely brought by relatives of deceased prisoners. In the case of Slaughterford (1708) the accused was charged with murdering a woman whom he had seduced; the evidence was very imperfect, and he was acquitted on indictment. But public indignation being aroused by the atrocities alleged to have been perpetrated, an appeal was brought, and on conviction he was hanged, as his execution was a privilege belonging to the prosecutor, of which the crown could not deprive him by a pardon. In 1818 an appeal was ingeniously met by an offer of battle, since if the appellee were an able-bodied man he had the choice between combat or a jury (see Wager). This neutralizing of one obsolete and barbarous process by another called the attention of the legislature to the subject, and appeal in criminal cases, along with trial by battle, was abolished in 1819. The history of this appeal is fully dealt with in Pollock and Maitland, History of English Law, 1898.

APPEAL, in law. In the old English common law, the term “appeal” referred to a process unique to English criminal procedure. It was a prosecutorial right held as a personal privilege by an individual harmed by a felony, a privilege that the crown could not take away directly or indirectly, since it could be exercised whether the defendant was tried and found innocent, or convicted and pardoned. It was mainly recognized as the right of the closest relative of a murder victim. In 1729, after Colonel Oglethorpe’s inquiry and report on the London prisons, Banbridge and other jailers were indicted for their treatment of inmates but were acquitted due to lack of evidence, leading to appeals for murder being freely pursued by the relatives of deceased prisoners. In the Slaughterford case (1708), the accused was charged with murdering a woman he had seduced; the evidence was very weak, and he was acquitted. However, public outrage over the alleged crimes prompted an appeal, and upon conviction, he was hanged, as the execution was a right of the prosecutor that the crown could not negate with a pardon. In 1818, an appeal was cleverly countered with a challenge to fight, since if the appellee was a fit man, he could choose between combat or a jury (see Wager). This replacement of one outdated and brutal process with another drew the legislature's attention to the issue, and appeals in criminal cases, along with trial by battle, were abolished in 1819. The full history of this appeal is addressed in Pollock and Maitland, History of English Law, 1898.

In its usual modern sense the term appeal is applied to the proceeding by which the decision of a court of justice is brought for review before another tribunal of higher authority. In Roman jurisprudence it was used in this and in other significations; it was sometimes equivalent to prosecution, or the calling up of an accused person before a tribunal where the accuser appealed to the protection of the magistrate against injustice or oppression. The derivation from appellare (“call”) suggests that its earliest meaning was an urgent outcry or prayer against injustice. During the republic the magistrate was generally supreme within his sphere, and those who felt themselves outraged by injustice threw themselves on popular protection by provocatio, instead of looking to redress from a higher official authority. Under the empire different grades of jurisdiction were established, and the ultimate remedy was an appeal to the emperor; thus Paul, when brought before Festus, appealed unto Caesar. Such appeals were, however, not heard by the emperor in person but by a supreme judge representing him. In the Corpus Juris the appeal to the emperor is called indiscriminately appellatio and provocatio. A considerable portion of the 49th book of the Pandects is devoted to appeals; but little of the practical operation of the system is to be deduced from the propositions there brought together.

In its typical modern usage, the term appeal refers to the process by which a court's decision is reviewed by a higher authority. In Roman law, it carried this meaning along with others; it sometimes meant prosecution or bringing an accused person before a court where the accuser sought the magistrate's protection against unfairness or oppression. The origin from appellare (“call”) implies that its earliest meaning was an urgent request or plea against injustice. During the republic, magistrates were usually the highest authority in their area, and those who felt wronged by injustice sought popular support through provocatio, rather than looking for redress from a higher official. Under the empire, different levels of jurisdiction were established, and the final remedy was an appeal to the emperor; thus, Paul, when brought before Festus, appealed to Caesar. However, such appeals were not heard directly by the emperor but by a chief judge acting on his behalf. In the Corpus Juris, the appeal to the emperor is generally referred to as appellatio and provocatio. A significant portion of the 49th book of the Pandects deals with appeals, but not much of the practical application of the system can be inferred from the principles presented there.

During the middle ages full scope was afforded for appeals from the lower to the higher authorities in the church. In matters ecclesiastical, including those matrimonial, testamentary and other departments, which the church ever tried to bring within the operation of the canon law, there were various grades of appeal, ending with the pope. The claims of the church to engross appeals in matters trenching on the temporal rights of princes led to continual conflicts between church and state, terminated in England at the reformation by the suppression in 1534 of appeals to Rome, which had previously been discouraged by legislation of Edward III. and Richard II.

During the Middle Ages, there was a full opportunity for appeals from lower to higher authorities in the church. In ecclesiastical matters, including marriage, will-related issues, and other areas that the church sought to regulate under canon law, there were different levels of appeal, culminating with the pope. The church’s claims to handle appeals involving the temporal rights of princes led to ongoing conflicts between church and state, which were resolved in England during the Reformation with the 1534 suppression of appeals to Rome, a process that had already been discouraged by laws from Edward III and Richard II.

In temporal, as distinct from spiritual matters, it became customary for ambitious sovereigns to encourage appeals from the courts of the crown vassals to themselves as represented by the supreme judges, and Charlemagne usually enjoys the credit of having set the example of this system of centralization by establishing missi dominici. It is not improbable that his claim was suggested or justified by the practice of the Roman empire, to the sovereignty whereof he claimed to be successor.

In worldly matters, unlike spiritual ones, it became common for ambitious rulers to promote appeals from their vassal courts to themselves, represented by the top judges. Charlemagne often gets credit for starting this centralization system by establishing missi dominici. It's quite possible that his claim was influenced or justified by the practices of the Roman Empire, to whose sovereignty he claimed to be the successor.

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England.—When the royal authority in England grew strong as against that of the tenants in capite, the king’s courts in England were more effectively organized, and their net swept wider so as to draw within their cognizance matters previously adjudged in courts baron or courts leet or in the county court, and they acquired authority to supervise and review the decisions of the inferior and local courts, to control and limit their claims to exercise jurisdiction, and to transfer causes from the local to the royal courts. The machinery by which this process was usually effected, under the common law, was not by what is now known as appeal, but by the process of certiorari or writs of error or prohibition. Recourse was also had against the decisions of the royal courts by appeal to the great council of the king, or to parliament as a whole. The supremacy of the king’s courts over all causes, as well ecclesiastical as civil, has been completely established since the reign of Henry VIII., and they have effectually asserted the power to regulate and keep within their proper jurisdiction all other tribunals within the realm. Since that date the organization of judicial tribunals has gradually been changed and improved with the object (1) of creating a judicial hierarchy independent of executive control; (2) of ensuring that all decisions on questions of law shall be co-ordinated and rendered systematic by correction of the errors and vagaries of subordinate tribunals; and (3) of securing so far as possible uniformity in the judicial interpretation and administration of the law, by creating a supreme appellate tribunal to whose decisions all other tribunals are bound to conform. It would be undesirable to detail at length the history of appellate jurisdiction in England, involving as it would the discussion in great detail of the history and procedure of English law, and it may suffice to indicate the system of appeals as at present organized, beginning with the lowest courts.

England.—As the royal authority in England became stronger compared to that of the tenants in capite, the king's courts were better organized, expanding their scope to include issues that were previously handled in courts baron, courts leet, or county courts. They gained the power to oversee and review the decisions made by these lower courts, to control and limit their claims to jurisdiction, and to move cases from local courts to the royal courts. This process, under common law, typically happened not through what we now call an appeal, but via the process of certiorari or through writs of error or prohibition. There was also a way to challenge the decisions of the royal courts by appealing to the king's great council or to parliament as a whole. Since the reign of Henry VIII, the supremacy of the king's courts over all cases, both ecclesiastical and civil, has been firmly established, allowing them to regulate and maintain jurisdiction over all other courts in the realm. Since then, the structure of judicial tribunals has been gradually reformed to achieve (1) a judicial hierarchy that operates independently of executive control; (2) a system where all decisions on legal questions are coordinated and standardized by correcting the mistakes and inconsistencies of lower courts; and (3) a level of uniformity in the interpretation and enforcement of the law by establishing a supreme appellate court that all other courts must follow. It would be impractical to provide a detailed history of appellate jurisdiction in England, as that would require an in-depth discussion of English law's history and procedures, but it is sufficient to outline the current appeal system starting from the lowest courts.

Justices of the Peace.—The decisions of justices of the peace sitting as courts of summary jurisdiction are subject to review on questions of law only by the High Court of Justice. This review is in a sense consultative, because it is usually effected by means of a case voluntarily stated by the justices at the request of the aggrieved party, in which are set forth the facts as determined by the justices, the questions of law raised and their decision thereon, as to the correctness whereof the opinion of the High Court is invited. The procedure is equally open in criminal and civil matters brought before the justices. But when the justices decline to state a case for the opinion of the High Court, the latter, if review seems desirable, may order the justices to state a case. And the High Court has also power to control the action of justices by prohibiting them from acting in a case beyond their jurisdiction, ordering them to exercise jurisdiction where they have improperly declined (mandamus), or bringing up for review and quashing orders or convictions which they have made in excess of jurisdiction, or in cases in which interested or biassed justices have adjudicated (certiorari). None of these regulative processes exactly corresponds to what is popularly known as an appeal, but in effect if not in form an appeal is thus given.

Justices of the Peace.—The decisions made by justices of the peace acting as courts of summary jurisdiction can only be reviewed by the High Court of Justice on legal questions. This review is somewhat advisory because it usually happens through a case voluntarily provided by the justices after being requested by the affected party, detailing the facts as determined by the justices, the legal questions raised, and their decisions on those questions, with the High Court's opinion sought on their correctness. This procedure is available for both criminal and civil matters brought before the justices. However, if the justices refuse to present a case for the High Court's opinion and a review seems necessary, the High Court can order the justices to present the case. The High Court also has the authority to control the actions of justices by preventing them from acting on a case outside their jurisdiction, ordering them to take jurisdiction where they have wrongly declined it (mandamus), or reviewing and overturning orders or convictions they have made beyond their jurisdiction or in cases where biased or interested justices have ruled (certiorari). None of these regulatory processes exactly matches what is commonly referred to as an appeal, but effectively, if not in form, an appeal is created.

There is also another form of appeal, in the fullest sense of the term, from the decision of justices sitting as a court of summary jurisdiction to the justices of the same county sitting in general or quarter sessions, or in the case of a borough to the recorder as judge of the borough court of quarter sessions. This form of appeal is in every case the creation of statute: and even in text-books it is hardly possible to find a really complete list of the matters in respect of which such appeal lies. But as regards criminal cases there is an approximately general rule, given by § 19 of the Summary Jurisdiction Act 1879, viz. that an appeal to quarter sessions lies from the conviction or order of a court of summary jurisdiction directing imprisonment without the option of a fine as a punishment for an offence, or for failing to do or to abstain from doing any act required to be done or left undone other than an order for the payment of money, or to find sureties or give security or to enter into a recognizance, or a conviction made on a plea of guilty or admission of the truth of the matter of complaint.

There's also another type of appeal, in the broadest sense, from the decisions made by justices in a summary court to the justices of the same county sitting in general or quarter sessions, or in the case of a borough, to the recorder as the judge of the borough court of quarter sessions. This type of appeal is established by law in every case. Even in legal textbooks, it's nearly impossible to find a truly complete list of the issues that can be appealed. However, for criminal cases, there’s a fairly general rule outlined in § 19 of the Summary Jurisdiction Act 1879, which states that an appeal to quarter sessions can be made from the conviction or order of a summary jurisdiction court that imposes imprisonment without the option of a fine as punishment for an offense, or for failing to do something required or abstaining from doing something other than a payment order, finding sureties, providing security, or entering into a recognizance, or a conviction based on a guilty plea or admission of the truth of the complaint.

As a general rule, subject to particular statutory exceptions, appeals of this kind are by way of rehearing, i.e. the actor or prosecutor must before the appellate tribunal call his witnesses and prove his case just as if no previous hearing had taken place before the court appealed from (Pritchard, Quarter Sessions Practice, 2nd ed., 461). The only limit is that the appellant must confine himself to the grounds of appeal stated in the notice of appeal given by him.

As a general rule, except for specific legal exceptions, appeals like this are treated as a new hearing, meaning the plaintiff or prosecutor has to present their witnesses and prove their case again as if the previous hearing never happened (Pritchard, Quarter Sessions Practice, 2nd ed., 461). The only limitation is that the appellant must stick to the reasons for appeal outlined in the notice of appeal they submitted.

Justices in Quarter Sessions.—This tribunal has under the commission of the peace and under statute power to refer questions of difficulty arising before it for decision to the High Court. The old mode of exercising this power was by sending on to assizes indictments raising difficult questions which had been presented at quarter sessions. The High Court has ex officio power to transfer such indictments where the nature of the case and the demands of justice call for such transfer. The quarter sessions had also power under statute on trying an indictment to refer to the court for crown cases reserved (Crown Cases Act 1848), abolished by the Criminal Appeal Act 1907, questions of law which had arisen at the trial, and in all civil cases the quarter sessions has power of its own volition and subject to no direct compulsion to consult the High Court on legal questions of difficulty which have arisen. Until 1894 this jurisdiction was regarded as consultative only. It was and is exercised by stating the facts, of which the court of quarter sessions is the sole judge, and indicating the questions of law arising on the facts, and the view of quarter sessions thereon, and inviting the opinion of the High Court. Under the Judicature Act 1894 cases stated in this way are now treated as “appeals” in the popular sense.

Justices in Quarter Sessions.—This tribunal has the authority under the commission of the peace and statute to send challenging questions that arise before it to the High Court for a decision. Traditionally, this power was exercised by forwarding difficult indictments from quarter sessions to the assizes. The High Court has ex officio authority to transfer such indictments when the case's nature and the needs of justice require it. The quarter sessions also had the power under statute, when trying an indictment, to refer questions of law that came up during the trial to the court for crown cases reserved (Crown Cases Act 1848), which was abolished by the Criminal Appeal Act 1907. In all civil cases, the quarter sessions can choose to consult the High Court on complex legal questions that arise without any direct obligation to do so. Until 1894, this jurisdiction was considered consultative only. It was and still is exercised by laying out the facts, which the court of quarter sessions judges, pointing out the legal questions that arise from those facts, and sharing the quarter sessions' views on them while seeking the High Court's opinion. Under the Judicature Act 1894, cases presented this way are now regarded as “appeals” in the common sense.

Inferior Courts of purely Civil Jurisdiction.—An appeal also lies as a general rule to the High Court from the judgment of a county court or of any inferior tribunal having civil jurisdiction.

Inferior Courts of purely Civil Jurisdiction.—As a general rule, there is also an appeal to the High Court from the judgment of a county court or any lower tribunal with civil jurisdiction.

(a) County Courts. Any party to an action or matter in a county court who is dissatisfied with the determination or direction of the judge in law or equity, or upon the admission or rejection of any evidence, may appeal against the decision in the following cases: (1) if the amount of claim or counter-claim in the proceeding exceeds £20; or (2) in all equity matters or cases in which an injunction has been given; or (3) in actions to recover possession of land where questions of title are involved (County Courts Act 1888, § 120). In the case of a claim below £20 no appeal lies except by the leave of the county court. The old practice of appeal by way of special case as in appeals from justices has been abolished, and the present procedure is by notice of motion (R.S.C. O. LIX. rr. 10-18).

(a) County Courts. Anyone involved in a case in a county court who is unhappy with the judge's ruling on legal or equitable matters, or on the admission or rejection of any evidence, can appeal the decision in the following situations: (1) if the amount of the claim or counterclaim in the case is over £20; or (2) in all equity matters or cases where an injunction has been issued; or (3) in actions to reclaim possession of land when there are title issues involved (County Courts Act 1888, § 120). For claims under £20, an appeal can only be made with the county court's permission. The previous practice of appealing through a special case, similar to appeals from magistrates, has been eliminated, and the current procedure is by notice of motion (R.S.C. O. LIX. rr. 10-18).

These appeals are heard in the king’s bench division, except in the case of appeals from judgments of a county court sitting in the exercise of admiralty jurisdiction, which are heard by two or more judges sitting in the probate, divorce and admiralty division. The chancery division has never sat to hear “appeals” from a county court exercising equity jurisdiction; but at times, by prohibition or certiorari, has, in effect, reviewed or restrained excess of jurisdiction by county courts in equity matters.

These appeals are heard in the king’s bench division, except for appeals from judgments of a county court handling admiralty cases, which are heard by two or more judges in the probate, divorce, and admiralty division. The chancery division has never reviewed "appeals" from a county court dealing with equity matters; however, at times, through prohibition or certiorari, it has effectively reviewed or limited the excess of jurisdiction by county courts in equity issues.

The decision of the High Court on county court appeals is final unless an appeal to the court of appeal is brought by leave of that court or of the High Court (Judicature Act 1894, § 1, sub. sect. 5; Judicature Act 1873, § 45).

The High Court's decision on county court appeals is final unless an appeal to the Court of Appeal is made with permission from that court or the High Court (Judicature Act 1894, § 1, sub. sect. 5; Judicature Act 1873, § 45).

(b) Other inferior courts of civil jurisdiction. Appeals from the local courts of record which still survive in certain cities, towns and districts are in a somewhat anomalous position. The general rule is that, unless a statute regulates such appeal, it may be brought in the king’s bench division of the High Court on notice of motion in any case in which, before the Judicature Acts, the court of king’s bench could have reviewed the decision of the inferior court by writ of error. The history of this question is dealt with in Darlow v. Shuttleworth, 1902, 1 K.B. 721.

(b) Other lower courts of civil jurisdiction. Appeals from the local courts of record that still exist in certain cities, towns, and areas are in a somewhat unusual position. The general rule is that, unless a law specifies otherwise, an appeal can be made in the king’s bench division of the High Court by filing a notice of motion in any case where, prior to the Judicature Acts, the court of king’s bench could have reviewed the inferior court's decision through a writ of error. The history of this issue is discussed in Darlow v. Shuttleworth, 1902, 1 K.B. 721.

In the case of the mayor’s court of London, under the local and general statutes regulating that court, the appeal is usually to the king’s bench division, but where there is what is termed “error” on the face of the proceedings of the mayor’s court, 212 the appeal lies direct to the court of appeal as successor of the court of exchequer chamber. Appeals from the Liverpool court of passage and from the chancery courts of the duchies of Lancaster and Durham lie by statute direct to the court of appeal.

In the case of the Mayor's Court of London, according to the local and general laws that govern that court, appeals usually go to the King’s Bench Division. However, if there is what’s called an “error” in the proceedings of the Mayor's Court, 212 the appeal goes directly to the Court of Appeal, which is the successor to the Court of Exchequer Chamber. Appeals from the Liverpool Court of Passage and from the Chancery Courts of the Duchies of Lancaster and Durham go directly to the Court of Appeal as stated by law.

High Court of Justice.—Until the Supreme Court of Judicature Acts of 1873 and 1875 came into operation, the superior courts in England were imperfectly co-ordinated both as to jurisdiction and appeals. The effect of these acts was to create a Supreme Court of Judicature divided into two main branches, the High Court of Justice, which is an appellate court with respect to the inferior courts already mentioned, and to certain other special courts and persons; and the court of appeal, which is mainly concerned with appeals from the High Court of Justice.

High Court of Justice.—Before the Supreme Court of Judicature Acts of 1873 and 1875 took effect, the higher courts in England were not well-coordinated regarding their powers and the appeal process. These acts established a Supreme Court of Judicature, split into two main parts: the High Court of Justice, which serves as an appellate court for the previously mentioned lower courts and some other specific courts and individuals; and the Court of Appeal, which primarily deals with appeals from the High Court of Justice.

The High Court of Justice acts as an appellate court or court of consultation with reference to courts of summary jurisdiction or quarter sessions and to county courts and other inferior courts of civil jurisdiction in the cases already indicated. The three divisions of the court are somewhat differently placed with reference to appeals.

The High Court of Justice serves as an appellate court or a consultative court regarding courts of summary jurisdiction, quarter sessions, county courts, and other lower civil courts in the cases mentioned earlier. The three divisions of the court have slightly different roles concerning appeals.

In the chancery division (made up, in 1908, of six single judge courts) no appeals are heard except from subordinate officials (masters) of the court, or an occasional interference by certiorari or prohibition with a county court.

In the chancery division (which, in 1908, consisted of six individual judge courts), no appeals are heard except from the subordinate officials (masters) of the court, or occasionally through certiorari or prohibition involving a county court.

In the probate, divorce and admiralty division, besides the supervision which may be exercised by a single judge over the subordinate officers of the court (registrars), divisional courts (of two judges) hear appeals from decisions of the county court in admiralty causes, and appeals from justices in cases between husband and wife under the Summary Jurisdiction (Married Women) Act 1895, as amended by the Licensing Act 1902. In the first of these cases the appeal is on law only as in the case of other county court appeals; in the second, the procedure is by rehearing, or reconsideration of the facts as minuted in the court appealed from, and of the law there applied to these facts.

In the probate, divorce, and admiralty division, in addition to the supervision a single judge may have over the court’s subordinate officers (registrars), divisional courts (made up of two judges) hear appeals from the county court's decisions in admiralty cases, as well as appeals from justices in matters between spouses under the Summary Jurisdiction (Married Women) Act 1895, updated by the Licensing Act 1902. In the first type of case, the appeal is based only on legal issues, just like other county court appeals; in the second, the process involves a rehearing or a review of the facts recorded in the original court and the application of the law to those facts.

The bulk of the appellate work of the High Court is conducted in the king’s bench division—which, as successor of the old court of king’s bench in the duties of custos morum of the realm, still retains supervisory power over all inferior courts in all cases in which that supervision has not been transferred to the other divisions of the High Court or to the court of appeal, or to the court of criminal appeal.

The majority of the appellate work of the High Court takes place in the king’s bench division, which, as the successor to the old court of king’s bench in its role as custos morum of the realm, still holds supervisory power over all lower courts in any cases where that supervision hasn't been handed over to the other divisions of the High Court, the court of appeal, or the court of criminal appeal.

The king’s bench division exercises appellate jurisdiction in the following cases.

The king’s bench division has the authority to hear appeals in the following cases.

With respect to decisions of justices of the peace sitting at quarter sessions, or as a court of summary jurisdiction, except in the case above stated, the subject matter of appeal is for the most part of a criminal or quasi-criminal character, the civil jurisdiction of justices being comparatively limited. The appeal in such cases is as to matters of law only, the justices’ decision on facts not being subject to review.

Regarding the decisions made by justices of the peace during quarter sessions, or as a summary jurisdiction court, aside from the previously mentioned case, the appeal subjects are mostly criminal or somewhat criminal in nature, while the civil authority of justices is relatively restricted. The appeal in these situations is focused solely on legal issues, and the justices' decisions on factual matters cannot be reviewed.

In the case of the courts above named, the appeal is brought by writ of certiorari, where the jurisdiction of quarter sessions to give the judgment challenged is denied in toto, or in some cases by writ of habeas corpus, where the appellant is in custody under an order of the court appealed from (Judicature Act 1894, § 2). The best example of this is the right of a fugitive criminal committed for extradition to challenge the legality of the decision of the committing magistrate by writ of habeas corpus. Save in cases of want of jurisdiction or refusal to exercise it, no appeal lies from quarter sessions except by consent of the court appealed from, which states the facts as ascertained by the inferior court, and invites the review of the superior court upon the questions of law raised by the facts as found.

In the courts mentioned above, appeals are made through a writ of certiorari when the quarter sessions' authority to make the disputed judgment is completely challenged, or in some situations, by a writ of habeas corpus when the appellant is in custody under an order from the court being appealed (Judicature Act 1894, § 2). A prime example of this is when a fugitive criminal detained for extradition can question the legality of the committing magistrate's decision through a writ of habeas corpus. Except in cases where there’s a lack of jurisdiction or a refusal to use it, no appeal exists from quarter sessions unless approved by the court being appealed, which states the facts determined by the lower court and requests the higher court to review the legal issues raised by those facts.

Decisions of justices sitting in the exercise of summary jurisdiction are subject to review by a special case in which the justices state the facts found by them and their decision on the points of law, and invite the review of the appellate court on these grounds. Such cases for appeal are usually stated by consent of the justices, but in the event of their refusal the appellate court may order that a case shall be stated.

Decisions made by justices exercising summary jurisdiction can be reviewed through a special case where the justices lay out the facts they found and their legal decisions, inviting the appellate court to review it based on those points. Typically, these appeal cases are agreed upon by the justices, but if they refuse, the appellate court can order that a case be presented.

Decisions of justices in the exercise of summary jurisdiction may also be challenged by writ of certiorari as having been wholly outside their jurisdiction; and in such proceeding the appellate tribunal may review the evidence taken below so far as to ascertain whether the justices have by an erroneous finding of fact enabled themselves to assume a jurisdiction which upon the true facts they did not possess.

Decisions made by judges in summary jurisdiction can also be contested by a writ of certiorari, claiming that they were completely outside their authority. In this process, the appellate court can review the evidence presented earlier to determine whether the judges, due to a mistaken fact-finding, granted themselves a jurisdiction that they actually didn't have based on the correct facts.

Where the decision appealed from is in a criminal cause or matter the decision of the High Court is final. Where it is in a civil matter a further appeal also lies to the court of appeal by leave of the High Court or of the court of appeal (Judicature Act 1873, § 45).

Where the decision being appealed is in a criminal case, the decision of the High Court is final. In civil matters, a further appeal can be made to the Court of Appeal with permission from either the High Court or the Court of Appeal (Judicature Act 1873, § 45).

Appeals in criminal cases tried on indictment, criminal information or coroner’s inquisition, stand on a different footing from other appeals.

Appeals in criminal cases tried by indictment, criminal information, or coroner’s inquisition are treated differently from other appeals.

For many years the question of criminal appeal in general had been a matter of great controversy. As early as 1844 a bill had been unsuccessfully introduced for the purpose of establishing appeal in criminal cases, and from that time up to 1906 nearly thirty bills were brought forward with the same object, but none succeeded in passing. In 1892 the question was referred to the council of judges and favourably reported upon by them. It may be remarked that England was practically the only civilized country in which there was no appeal in criminal cases. It is true there was an appeal on questions of law arising at the trial. But the procedure was intricate and technical, being either (1) by writ of error, issued by the consent of the attorney-general (expressed by his fiat), to review errors of law appearing in the record of the trial, or (2) by special case, stated by the judge presiding at the trial, with respect to a question of law raised at the trial. These appeals were heard by the king’s bench division. Meanwhile there had been a considerable development of public opinion in favour of the establishment of criminal appeal, a development undoubtedly hastened by the report of a committee of inquiry in the case of Adolf Beck (1904), showing clearly that the home office was not a satisfactory tribunal of final appeal. In 1906 the lord chancellor (Lord Loreburn) introduced another criminal appeal bill, which passed the House of Lords, but was dropped in the House of Commons after a first reading. The next year the act (Criminal Appeal Act 1907), which was ultimately carried, was introduced into the House of Commons. By this act a court is established consisting of the lord chief justice and eight judges of the king’s bench division, the jurisdiction of the court for crown cases reserved being transferred to the new court. The court to be duly constituted must consist of not less than three judges and of an uneven number of judges. The court may sit in two or more divisions if the lord chief justice so directs. Its sittings are held in London unless special directions are given by the lord chief justice that it shall sit at some other place. The opinion of the majority of those hearing the case determines any question before the court, and judgment is pronounced by the president (who is the lord chief justice or senior member present), unless in questions of law, when, if it is convenient that separate judgments should be pronounced by the members of the court, they may be so pronounced. The judgment of the court of criminal appeal is final, except where the decision involves a point of law of exceptional public importance, and a certificate must be obtained from the attorney-general to that effect. The court of criminal appeal is a superior court of record. An appeal may be made either against conviction or against sentence. A person convicted on indictment may appeal either on a question of law alone or of fact alone, or on a question of mixed law and fact. On a point of law a prisoner has an unqualified right of appeal, on a question of fact or of mixed law and fact there is a right of appeal only if leave be obtained from the court of criminal appeal or a certificate be granted by the judge who tried the prisoner that it is a fit case for appeal. The court is given a wide discretion as to whether a conviction may be sustained or set aside. The court may allow the appeal if they think that the verdict of the jury should be set aside because it is 213 unreasonable, or because it cannot be supported having regard to the evidence, or that the judgment should be set aside on the ground of a wrong decision on any point of law, or that on any ground there was a miscarriage of justice. Power is given to the court to dismiss the appeal if they consider that no substantial miscarriage of justice has occurred, even though they are of opinion that the point raised in the appeal might be decided in favour of the appellant. The sentence passed at the trial may be quashed by the appeal court and such other sentence (whether more or less severe) warranted in law by the verdict substituted. Notice of appeal or notice of application for leave to appeal must be given within ten days of the date of conviction; where a conviction involves sentence of death or corporal punishment the sentence must not be executed until after the expiration of ten days, and, if notice of appeal is given, not until after the determination of the appeal or the final dismissal of the application for leave to appeal. The act gives the court power to order any witnesses who would have been compellable witnesses at the trial to attend and be examined before the court, and to receive the evidence, if tendered, of any witness who is a competent but not compellable witness. If any question arises on the appeal involving prolonged examination of documents or accounts or any scientific or local investigation, which the court thinks cannot be conveniently conducted before it, the matter may be referred to a special commissioner appointed by the court, and the court may act on the report of that commissioner if it thinks fit. An appellant is given the right to be present on the hearing of his appeal, if he desires it, except where the appeal is on some ground involving a question of law alone, but rules of court may provide for his presence in such a case, or the court may give him leave. The act requires shorthand notes to be taken of the proceedings at the trial of any person, who, if convicted, would have a right to appeal under the act. Nothing in the act affects the prerogative of mercy, and the home secretary may, if he thinks fit, at any time refer a case to the court of criminal appeal.

For many years, the issue of criminal appeals was highly controversial. As early as 1844, a bill was unsuccessfully proposed to establish the right to appeal in criminal cases, and from then until 1906, nearly thirty more bills tried and failed to achieve the same goal. In 1892, the matter was presented to the council of judges, who reported positively on it. It's worth noting that England was basically the only civilized nation that didn't allow criminal appeals. There was an appeal process for legal questions that arose during trials, but it was complicated and technical, either (1) by writ of error, granted by the attorney-general (expressed by his fiat), to review legal errors in the trial record, or (2) by special case, stated by the presiding judge regarding a legal question raised during the trial. These appeals were reviewed by the king’s bench division. Meanwhile, public opinion increasingly favored establishing criminal appeals, a trend undoubtedly accelerated by the investigation committee's report in the Adolf Beck case (1904), which clearly indicated that the home office was not an adequate final appeal tribunal. In 1906, the lord chancellor (Lord Loreburn) introduced another criminal appeal bill that passed the House of Lords but was dropped by the House of Commons after its first reading. The following year, the act (Criminal Appeal Act 1907), which was eventually passed, was introduced in the House of Commons. This act established a court made up of the lord chief justice and eight judges from the king’s bench division, transferring jurisdiction for crown cases reserved to the new court. To be properly constituted, the court must include at least three judges and an odd number of judges. The court may convene in two or more divisions if directed by the lord chief justice. Its sessions are held in London unless special instructions come from the lord chief justice to meet elsewhere. The opinion of the majority of judges hearing the case decides any question before the court, and the judgment is delivered by the president (who is the lord chief justice or the most senior member present), unless it's a legal question, in which case, if it's convenient, separate judgments can be issued by the court members. The judgment from the court of criminal appeal is final, except in cases involving a point of law of exceptional public importance; for that, a certificate must first be obtained from the attorney-general. The court of criminal appeal is recognized as a superior court of record. Appeals can be made against either a conviction or a sentence. A person convicted on indictment may appeal based solely on a question of law, solely on a question of fact, or on a mixed question of law and fact. On legal questions, the convict has an unconditional right of appeal; for questions of fact or mixed law and fact, an appeal is only permitted if the court of criminal appeal grants leave, or if the judge who tried the case certifies that it's a suitable case for appeal. The court has considerable discretion regarding whether to uphold or overturn a conviction. They may allow the appeal if they believe the jury's verdict should be overturned because it is 213 unreasonable, unsupported by the evidence, due to a wrongful legal decision, or if any other grounds indicate a miscarriage of justice. The court has the authority to dismiss the appeal if they find that no substantial miscarriage of justice occurred, even if they think the issue raised in the appeal could potentially favor the appellant. The appeal court can quash the sentence imposed at trial and replace it with another sentence (whether harsher or lighter) supported by the verdict. A notice of appeal or a notice of application for permission to appeal must be filed within ten days of the conviction date. If the conviction includes a death or corporal punishment sentence, the sentence can't be executed until ten days have passed, and if an appeal notice is filed, not until after the outcome of the appeal or the final rejection of the application for leave to appeal. The act empowers the court to summon any witnesses who would have been compelled to testify at trial to appear and be examined, and to accept evidence from any competent but not compelled witnesses. If any issues arise on the appeal requiring extensive examination of documents, accounts, or any scientific or local investigation that the court believes cannot be conveniently conducted before it, the matter may be referred to a special commissioner appointed by the court, and the court may act based on that commissioner's report if deemed appropriate. An appellant has the right to attend the hearing of his appeal if he wishes, except where the appeal rests solely on a legal question; however, court rules may allow for his presence in such cases, or the court may grant permission. The act mandates that shorthand notes be taken of the trial proceedings for any person who, if convicted, would have the right to appeal under the act. Nothing in the act overrides the prerogative of mercy, and the home secretary may, if deemed necessary, refer a case to the court of criminal appeal at any time.

The Court of Appeal.—The court of appeal, constituted under the Judicature Acts, is one of the two permanent divisions of the Supreme Court of Judicature. As now constituted the court consists of ex officio members and five ordinary members, styled lords justices of appeal. The ex officio members are the lord chancellor, every person who has held that office, the lord chief justice, the master of the rolls, and the president of the probate, &c., division.

The Court of Appeal.—The Court of Appeal, established under the Judicature Acts, is one of the two permanent divisions of the Supreme Court of Judicature. Currently, the court is made up of ex officio members and five regular members, called lords justices of appeal. The ex officio members include the lord chancellor, anyone who has previously held that position, the lord chief justice, the master of the rolls, and the president of the probate, etc., division.

The ordinary business of the court is carried on by the lords justices under the presidency of the master of the rolls, who in 1881 ceased to be a judge of the High Court (Judicature Act 1881, § 2). The court usually sits in two divisions of three judges, but on occasion a third court can be formed, with the assistance of the other ex officio judges, in the absence of the ordinary judges from illness or public engagements, or to deal with arrears of business. The quorum for final appeals is three, for interlocutory appeals two judges.

The regular operations of the court are handled by the lords justices under the leadership of the master of the rolls, who stopped being a judge of the High Court in 1881 (Judicature Act 1881, § 2). The court generally meets in two groups of three judges, but sometimes a third court can be set up with the help of the other ex officio judges, if the regular judges are unavailable due to illness or other commitments, or to manage backlogged cases. The minimum number of judges for final appeals is three, while for interlocutory appeals it's two judges.

The court of appeal has succeeded to the appellate authority exercised (1) in the case of equity and bankruptcy matters by the lord chancellor and the lords justices of appeal in chancery (Judicature Act 1873, § 18); (2) in the case of common law matters, by the court of exchequer chamber, as a court of error, and the superior courts of common law sitting to review the decisions of single judges of these courts sitting with or without a jury at first instance in civil actions; (3) in the case of divorce or probate causes by the full court of divorce (Judicature Act 1881, § 9); (4) in the case of admiralty causes by the king in council or the judicial committee of the privy council; (5) in the case of applications for new trials in jury actions by the king’s bench division (Judicature Act 1890, § 1).

The court of appeal has taken over the appellate authority previously held (1) in equity and bankruptcy issues by the lord chancellor and the lords justices of appeal in chancery (Judicature Act 1873, § 18); (2) in common law matters by the court of exchequer chamber, functioning as a court of error, and the superior courts of common law reviewing decisions made by single judges in civil cases, whether with or without a jury; (3) in divorce or probate cases by the full court of divorce (Judicature Act 1881, § 9); (4) in admiralty cases by the king in council or the judicial committee of the privy council; (5) in requests for new trials in jury cases by the king’s bench division (Judicature Act 1890, § 1).

The court never had jurisdiction to hear an appeal in any criminal cause or matter, but was able to review by writ of error decisions of the king’s bench division in such cases, unless the court for crown cases reserved had dealt with the question under the Crown Cases Act 1848. This procedure has been abolished by the Criminal Appeal Act 1907. Instances of procedure by writ of error were rare. Those best worth notice are the cases of the Tichborne claimant on his conviction of perjury, and the case of C. Bradlaugh on the sufficiency of the indictment against him for publishing the Fruits of Philosophy.

The court never had the authority to hear an appeal in any criminal case, but it could review decisions made by the king’s bench division in such matters through a writ of error, unless the court for crown cases reserved had addressed the issue under the Crown Cases Act 1848. This process was eliminated by the Criminal Appeal Act 1907. Cases using the writ of error were uncommon. Notable examples include the Tichborne claimant's conviction for perjury and C. Bradlaugh's case regarding the adequacy of the indictment against him for publishing the Fruits of Philosophy.

The appellate jurisdiction of the court as now exercised entitles the court to hear and determine (1) appeals from every judgment or decree of every division of the High Court in all civil cases in which such judgment is not declared final by statute; (2) applications for a new trial in civil cases tried in the king’s bench division by judge and jury which, until 1890, were dealt with by two or more judges in that division; (3) appeals in matters of civil practice and procedure from decisions of a single judge in chambers, which, until 1894, were dealt with in a divisional court or by a judge in open court; (4) appeals from the chancery courts of Durham (Palatine Court of Durham Act 1889) and Lancaster (act of 1890, c. 23) and the Liverpool court of passage (Anderson v. Dean, 1894, 2 Q.B. 222), and on error in a record of the mayor’s court of London (Le Blanche v. Heaton Telegram Co., 1876, 1 Ex.D. 408); and from county courts under the Agricultural Holdings Acts and Workmen’s Compensation Acts; (5) appeals on questions of law from decisions of the railway commissioners in England (Railway and Canal Traffic Act 1888).

The court's current appellate jurisdiction allows it to hear and decide (1) appeals from every judgment or decree from any division of the High Court in all civil cases that aren’t declared final by law; (2) requests for a new trial in civil cases tried in the king’s bench division by a judge and jury, which, until 1890, were handled by two or more judges in that division; (3) appeals regarding civil practice and procedure from decisions made by a single judge in chambers, which, until 1894, were addressed in a divisional court or by a judge in open court; (4) appeals from the chancery courts of Durham (Palatine Court of Durham Act 1889) and Lancaster (Act of 1890, c. 23) as well as the Liverpool court of passage (Anderson v. Dean, 1894, 2 Q.B. 222), and errors in the records of the mayor’s court of London (Le Blanche v. Heaton Telegram Co., 1876, 1 Ex.D. 408); and from county courts under the Agricultural Holdings Acts and Workmen’s Compensation Acts; (5) appeals on legal questions from decisions of the railway commissioners in England (Railway and Canal Traffic Act 1888).

The court of appeal also exercises the lunacy jurisdiction of the lord chancellor, but in regard to this the jurisdiction of the court is for the most part original and not appellate.

The court of appeal also has the lunacy authority of the lord chancellor, but in this matter, the court's power is mostly original rather than appellate.

The jurisdiction of the court of appeal is excluded or limited in the following cases:—(1) judgments of the High Court—(a) where its jurisdiction is consultative only; (b) where there is an appeal to the High Court from an inferior court of civil jurisdiction; (c) where there is an appeal to the High Court from any court of person, unless in cases (b) and (c) leave be obtained of the court by which the order is made, or of the court of appeal; (2) orders of the High Court in registration and election cases except with the like leave; (3) orders made by consent of parties, or as to costs only which by law are left to the discretion of the court; (4) certain interlocutory orders mentioned in § 1 of the Supreme Court of Judicature (Procedure) Act 1894, except by leave of the judge appealed from or of the court of appeal (5) orders of the admiralty division in cases of prize, the appeal from which lies to His Majesty in Council; (6) where the decision of any court whose jurisdiction was transferred to the High Court is declared by statute to be final; (7) matters which from their nature were not appealable to any court before the Judicature Acts, or in which the court of appeal has no means of enforcing or executing its judgment. For example, it was held in the House of Lords, in Cox v. Hakes, 1890, 15 A.C. 506, that no appeal lies from the order of a judge discharging a prisoner under a writ of habeas corpus. “If,” said Lord Herschell, “the contention of the respondent is to prevail, the statute has effected a grave constitutional change”; and later, “if” the High Court “has inherited the combined powers of the courts whose functions were transferred to it, but none of them had any jurisdiction or authority to review a discharge by a competent court under a writ of habeas corpus, or to enforce the arrest of one thus freed from custody ... it seems to me to follow, that however wrong the court of appeal might think a discharge to have been, it would have been powerless to order a rearrest, or at least to enforce such an order.”

The court of appeal's jurisdiction is restricted or not applicable in the following situations:—(1) judgments of the High Court—(a) when its jurisdiction is only consultative; (b) when there's an appeal to the High Court from a lower court of civil jurisdiction; (c) when there's an appeal to the High Court from any personal court, unless in cases (b) and (c) permission is obtained from the court that issued the order or the court of appeal; (2) orders of the High Court in registration and election matters, except with similar permission; (3) orders made by party consent, or regarding costs that the law leaves to the court's discretion; (4) specific interim orders mentioned in § 1 of the Supreme Court of Judicature (Procedure) Act 1894, unless permitted by the judge from whom the appeal is made or by the court of appeal; (5) orders from the admiralty division in prize cases, where the appeal goes to His Majesty in Council; (6) where the decision of any court that had its jurisdiction transferred to the High Court is stated by law to be final; (7) matters that were not appealable to any court before the Judicature Acts, or in which the court of appeal can't enforce or execute its judgment. For instance, it was determined in the House of Lords, in Cox v. Hakes, 1890, 15 A.C. 506, that there is no appeal from a judge's order releasing a prisoner under a writ of habeas corpus. “If,” said Lord Herschell, “the respondent's argument wins, the statute has brought about a significant constitutional change”; and later, “if” the High Court “has taken on the combined powers of the courts whose roles were transferred to it, but none had the authority to review a release by a competent court under a writ of habeas corpus, or to enforce the arrest of someone who has been released from custody ... it seems to me that, no matter how incorrect the court of appeal might believe a release to be, it would have no power to order a re-arrest, or at least to enforce such an order.”

The procedure of the court of appeal is regulated by the rules of the Supreme Court. A distinction is drawn between appeals from a final judgment or order (which, unless the parties consent to a smaller quorum, must be heard by three judges) and an appeal from an interlocutory order (which may be determined by two judges of the court of appeal).

The process of the court of appeal is governed by the Supreme Court's rules. There's a difference between appeals from a final judgment or order (which, unless the parties agree to a smaller number, must be heard by three judges) and an appeal from an interlocutory order (which can be decided by two judges of the court of appeal).

In the case of appeals from a final or interlocutory “judgment,” or from an order, including applications for a new trial, the appeal must be brought within three months from the time when the judgment or order is signed, entered or otherwise perfected, or in the case of refusal of an application from the date of refusal. The appeal is by notice of motion, which 214 except in cases of application for a new trial, need not state the grounds of appeal. Fourteen clear days’ notice of the motion must be given by the appellant to the other party, the respondent.

In the case of appeals from a final or interim “judgment,” or from an order, including requests for a new trial, the appeal must be filed within three months from the date when the judgment or order is signed, entered, or otherwise finalized, or in the case of a denied application from the date of denial. The appeal is made through a notice of motion, which 214 does not need to specify the reasons for the appeal, except in cases of requests for a new trial. The appellant must provide the respondent with fourteen clear days' notice of the motion.

In the case of appeals from an interlocutory order, or from a final order, or from an order made in any matter which is not an action, or from an order made in chambers, the appeal must be brought within fourteen days by motion, of which four clear days’ notice must be given by the appellant to all parties directly affected by the appeal. Controversies have arisen as to the meaning of the term “interlocutory,” which (in the absence of any authoritative definition) the court of appeal settles as they arise. The test most generally accepted is that a judgment or order is final if, as made, it finally disposes of the rights of the parties in a manner equally conclusive between them. The court may by special leave allow appeals of either class to be brought after the time above limited. The respondent may by proper notice bring a cross appeal against any portion of the judgment or order made below with which he is dissatisfied. The court has power to order the appellant to find security for the costs of an appeal, if special circumstances, such as insolvency or poverty or foreign domicile or the like, make the giving of security desirable. The court of appeal “rehears” the case. Under ordinary circumstances it does not permit a new case to be set up inconsistent with the case as presented below; and it is content with the judges’ notes, or a transcript of the evidence given below, and with a note or transcript of the judgment appealed from, but has power on special grounds to receive fresh evidence either viva voce or on affidavit. The court may call in for its assistance assessors who are experts on the matters of fact or science involved in the appeal, and usually does so in cases arising out of collisions at sea.

In the case of appeals from an interim order, a final order, orders made in matters that aren't actions, or from orders made in chambers, the appeal must be filed within fourteen days through a motion, with the appellant providing four clear days' notice to all parties directly affected by the appeal. There have been disputes over the meaning of the term "interlocutory," which the court of appeal clarifies as necessary since there's no authoritative definition. The most widely accepted test is that a judgment or order is final if it conclusively resolves the parties' rights in a way that is binding for all involved. The court may grant special permission to allow appeals of either type after the above timeframe. The respondent can file a cross-appeal by giving proper notice against any part of the judgment or order they disagree with. The court has the authority to require the appellant to provide security for the appeal costs if special circumstances, like insolvency, poverty, or foreign residence, make it necessary. The court of appeal "rehears" the case. Generally, it does not allow a new case that contradicts the one presented earlier; it relies on the judges' notes or a transcript of the evidence from the earlier proceedings, along with a note or transcript of the judgment being appealed. However, it can accept new evidence on special grounds, either orally or by affidavit. The court may also bring in assessors who are experts on the relevant facts or scientific matters related to the appeal, which it usually does in cases involving collisions at sea.

The court of appeal may make any order which it deems just as to the costs of the whole or any part of an appeal, except possibly in the case of certain appeals in matters on the crown side of the High Court, as to which some doubt still exists. In practice the costs follow the event, unless the court in a particular case makes an order to the contrary.

The court of appeal can issue any order it thinks is fair regarding the costs of the whole appeal or any part of it, except maybe for certain appeals related to the crown side of the High Court, where there is still some uncertainty. In practice, costs usually follow the outcome, unless the court decides otherwise in a specific case.

A decision of the court of appeal is final in appeals from the High Court in bankruptcy, unless leave be given to appeal to the House of Lords (§ 104, Bankruptcy Act 1883), and in divorce appeals, except where the decision either is upon the grant or refusal of a decree for dissolution or nullity of marriage, or for a declaration of legitimacy, or is upon any question of law on which the court gives leave to appeal (Supreme Court of Judicature Act 1881, § 9); but no further appeal to the House of Lords lies, even with leave of the court of appeal, on appeals from the High Court sitting as a court of appeal from county courts in bankruptcy. With these exceptions there is now a right of appeal from every order of the court of appeal to the House of Lords.

A decision by the court of appeal is final in bankruptcy appeals from the High Court, unless permission is granted to appeal to the House of Lords (§ 104, Bankruptcy Act 1883). In divorce appeals, this is also true, except when the decision is about granting or refusing a decree for divorce or annulment, for a declaration of legitimacy, or involves any legal question that the court allows to be appealed (Supreme Court of Judicature Act 1881, § 9). However, no further appeal to the House of Lords is allowed, even if the court of appeal permits it, for appeals from the High Court acting as an appellate court over county courts in bankruptcy. Other than these exceptions, there is currently a right to appeal from every order of the court of appeal to the House of Lords.

The House of Lords.—The House of Lords has for centuries been the court of last resort, and is still the final court of appeal from the chief courts in the United Kingdom. The origin of the appellate jurisdiction of the House of Lords was undoubtedly of that partly feudal and partly popular character already alluded to, which made the suitor seek from the high court of parliament the justice denied elsewhere in the baronial courts or by the king’s judges. The lords exercised the mixed function of jurymen and judges, and, as in judgments on impeachment, might be influenced by private or party considerations, debating and dividing on the question before the House. A revolution was silently accomplished, however, by which the function of reviewing the decisions of the courts fell entirely to the lawyers raised to the peerage, while the unprofessional lords only attended to give the sanction of a quorum to the proceedings, and the House has always had the right to invoke the assistance of the judges of the superior courts to advise on the questions of law raised by an appeal. The letters and memoirs, so late as Queen Anne’s reign, show that party or personal influence and persuasion were employed to procure votes on appeals, as they have been in later times on railway or other local bills. The last instance probably in which a strong division of opinion was manifested among the unprofessional lords was the celebrated Douglas cause in 1769, when the House was addressed by the dukes of Newcastle and Bedford, but was led by the authoritative opinion of Lord Mansfield on the effect of the evidence—an opinion which was treated rather as that of a political partisan than of a judge. The case of Daniel O’Connell and others, brought up on writ of error from the queen’s bench in Ireland in 1844, may be said to have finally established the precedent that the judgments of the House of Lords were to be given solely by the law lords. On that occasion there was a difference of opinion among the law lords themselves. The judgment of the majority of the House was strongly against the political feeling of the government and of the peers as a body, while the law lords who carried the decision had been appointed by previous governments opposed in politics to the existing cabinet. But all these temptations to a party vote by the unprofessional members were resisted.

The House of Lords.—The House of Lords has been the final court of appeal for centuries and remains the last resort from the main courts in the United Kingdom. The origin of its appellate authority was a mix of feudal and popular elements, prompting individuals to seek justice from the high court of parliament that was often denied in baronial courts or by the king’s judges. The lords acted as both jurors and judges, and, especially in impeachment cases, might be swayed by personal or party interests, debating and dividing on the issues at hand. However, a change took place where the responsibility of reviewing court decisions shifted entirely to the lawyers who became peers, while non-professional lords merely attended to fulfill the quorum requirement for proceedings. The House has always held the right to request assistance from judges of superior courts to advise on legal questions raised in an appeal. Letters and memoirs from as late as Queen Anne’s reign indicate that party or personal influence was used to secure votes on appeals, similar to practices in later times for railway or local bills. The last notable instance where strong disagreement was evident among non-professional lords was the famous Douglas case in 1769, where the House heard from the dukes of Newcastle and Bedford but was ultimately guided by Lord Mansfield's authoritative opinion on the evidence's impact—an opinion viewed more as a political stance than a judicial one. The case of Daniel O’Connell and others, brought up on a writ of error from the queen’s bench in Ireland in 1844, can be seen as establishing the precedent that judgments from the House of Lords would be made solely by the law lords. On that occasion, there was a disagreement among the law lords themselves. The majority decision ran strongly counter to the political sentiments of the government and peers as a whole, while the law lords who made the decision had been appointed by previous administrations politically opposed to the current cabinet. Nevertheless, the temptations for a party vote among the non-professional members were resisted.

By § 20 of the act of 1873, the appellate jurisdiction of the House of Lords (so far as it affects England) was abolished, but this section was repealed by the Appellate Jurisdiction Act 1876. Under that act and an amending act of 1887, the appellate business of the House of Lords is conducted solely by the law lords, though lay peers may still sit (Bradlaugh v. Clarke, 1882, 8 App. Cas. 354). No appeal may be heard or determined except in the presence of not less than three of the following persons:—(1) the lord chancellor; (2) the lords of appeal, four of whom are appointed under the act from among persons who hold, or have held, high judicial office, or, at the date of appointment, have been in practice for not less than fifteen years as barristers in England or Ireland, or as advocates in Scotland; (3) such peers of parliament as hold, or have held, high judicial office. By “high judicial office” is meant the office of lord chancellor of Great Britain or Ireland, lord of appeal in ordinary, paid judge of the judicial committee or member of that committee, or judge of one of the superior courts of Great Britain or Ireland.

By § 20 of the act of 1873, the appellate jurisdiction of the House of Lords (as it pertains to England) was abolished, but this section was repealed by the Appellate Jurisdiction Act 1876. Under that act and an amending act of 1887, the appellate business of the House of Lords is handled solely by the law lords, although lay peers can still participate (Bradlaugh v. Clarke, 1882, 8 App. Cas. 354). No appeal can be heard or decided unless at least three of the following individuals are present: (1) the lord chancellor; (2) the lords of appeal, four of whom are appointed under the act from among individuals who hold or have held high judicial office, or who, at the time of appointment, have practiced for at least fifteen years as barristers in England or Ireland, or as advocates in Scotland; (3) such peers of parliament who hold or have held high judicial office. "High judicial office" refers to the position of lord chancellor of Great Britain or Ireland, lord of appeal in ordinary, paid judge of the judicial committee or member of that committee, or judge of one of the superior courts of Great Britain or Ireland.

An appeal lies to the House of Lords (1) from any order or judgment of the court of appeal in England except as above stated; (2) from a judgment or order of any court in Scotland or Ireland from which error or an appeal to the House of Lords lay by common law or statute immediately before the 1st of November 1876. No appeals are heard from the decision of courts in criminal cases. The House of Lords has an indirect power by standing orders to admit appeals from Scotland or Ireland which under former law or practice could not be admitted (Appellate Jurisdiction Act 1876, § 12). The procedure on appeals is regulated by standing orders of the House. The proceedings are commenced by petition of appeal, which must be lodged with the clerk of the parliaments within one year from the date of the last judgment it appealed from. Security for costs (£200) must be given by bond or lodgment of the money, unless dispensed with by the House on the ground of poverty (act of 1893). Each party lodges a printed case signed and certified by counsel, containing a resumé of the matters to be discussed and of the contentions for or against the allowance of the appeal. The hearing is before three or more law lords, who may call in nautical assessors in admiralty cases (acts of 1893 and 1894). It is not public in the full sense of the term, as persons not concerned in the appeal can attend only by consent of the House. The House pronounces the judgment which in the opinion of the majority of the law lords should have been pronounced below, and has jurisdiction in the case of all appeals to give or refuse costs to the successful party. The costs of the appeal if given are taxed by the officers of the House. The jurisdiction as to costs does not directly arise under any statute (see West Ham Guardians v. Bethnal Green Churchwardens, 1896, A.C. 477).

An appeal can be made to the House of Lords (1) from any order or judgment of the Court of Appeal in England, except as mentioned above; (2) from a judgment or order of any court in Scotland or Ireland from which an error or appeal to the House of Lords was allowed by common law or statute right before November 1, 1876. No appeals are accepted from decisions made in criminal cases. The House of Lords has an indirect ability through standing orders to accept appeals from Scotland or Ireland that, under prior laws or practices, couldn’t be accepted (Appellate Jurisdiction Act 1876, § 12). The process for appeals is governed by standing orders of the House. Proceedings begin with a petition of appeal, which must be submitted to the clerk of the parliaments within one year from the date of the last judgment being appealed. Security for costs (£200) must be provided by bond or cash deposit, unless waived by the House due to financial hardship (Act of 1893). Each party submits a printed case that is signed and certified by counsel, summarizing the issues to be discussed and the arguments for or against granting the appeal. The hearing is conducted before three or more law lords, who may enlist nautical assessors in admiralty cases (Acts of 1893 and 1894). It’s not fully public; individuals not involved in the appeal can only attend with the House's consent. The House issues the judgment that, in the opinion of the majority of the law lords, should have been made below and has the authority, regarding all appeals, to award or deny costs to the winning party. If costs are awarded, they are assessed by the House's officers. The authority over costs doesn’t directly stem from any statute (see West Ham Guardians v. Bethnal Green Churchwardens, 1896, A.C. 477).

Appeals to the King in Council.—The decisions of ecclesiastical courts when acting within the limits of their jurisdiction, and the decisions of courts in the king’s dominions outside the United Kingdom, and of courts in foreign countries set up under the Foreign Jurisdiction Acts, cannot be dealt with by the 215 House of Lords or any of the ordinary tribunals of any part of the United Kingdom. The power once claimed by the court of king’s bench in England to control the courts of Ireland has lapsed, and its power to intervene in colonial cases is limited to the grant of the writ of habeas corpus to a possession in which no court exists having power to issue that writ or one of like effect (Habeas Corpus Act 1862). As regards all British possessions, the appeal to the king in council is in its origin and nature like that of the provincials unto Caesar, and flows from the royal prerogative to admit appeals. With the growth of the British empire it has been found necessary to create a comparatively constant and stable tribunal to advise the king in the exercise of this prerogative. For this purpose the judicial committee of the privy council was created in 1833. In 1851, and again in 1870, it was reorganized, and by acts of 1876, 1887 and 1898 it received its present form. The committee consists of the president of the council, and of the following persons, if privy councillors—the lord chancellor and ex-chancellors of Great Britain and of Ireland, the four lords of appeal in ordinary, the lords justices of appeal in England or retired lords justices of appeal in England, and persons who hold or have held the office (a) of judge of the High Court of Justice or the court of appeal in England or Ireland, or of the court of session in Scotland; (b) any person who is or has been chief justice or a judge of the Supreme Court of Canada or of a superior court of any province of Canada, of any of the Australian states (except Fiji and Papua), or of New Zealand or the Cape of Good Hope or Natal. The number of persons of this class who may be members at once is limited to five (1895, c. 44); (c) provision is also made for the payment of two privy councillors who have been judges in India who attend the privy council.

Appeals to the King in Council.—The decisions made by church courts when operating within their jurisdiction, as well as the decisions of courts in the king’s territories outside the United Kingdom and those in foreign countries established under the Foreign Jurisdiction Acts, cannot be addressed by the 215 House of Lords or any regular courts in the United Kingdom. The authority once claimed by the king's bench in England to oversee the courts of Ireland has expired, and its ability to intervene in colonial matters is restricted to issuing the writ of habeas corpus in locations where no court has the power to issue that writ or something similar (Habeas Corpus Act 1862). Concerning all British territories, the appeal to the king in council originated from and resembles the appeal of provincials to Caesar, stemming from the royal authority to accept appeals. As the British empire expanded, there was a need to establish a relatively stable and consistent tribunal to advise the king on this prerogative. To fulfill this need, the judicial committee of the privy council was created in 1833. It underwent reorganizations in 1851 and again in 1870, and through acts in 1876, 1887, and 1898, it achieved its current structure. The committee is made up of the president of the council and the following individuals, if they are privy councillors—the lord chancellor and former chancellors of Great Britain and Ireland, the four ordinary lords of appeal, the lords justices of appeal in England or retired lords justices of appeal, and individuals who hold or have held the position of (a) judge of the High Court of Justice or the court of appeal in England or Ireland, or of the court of session in Scotland; (b) any individual who is or has been chief justice or a judge of the Supreme Court of Canada or a superior court of any Canadian province, any of the Australian states (excluding Fiji and Papua), or of New Zealand or the Cape of Good Hope or Natal. The total number of people from this category who can be members at the same time is limited to five (1895, c. 44); (c) there is also a provision for the payment of two privy councillors who have served as judges in India who attend the privy council.

Numerous as are the members of the committee, the quorum is three. One or more of the lords of appeal in ordinary usually attend at every hearing, but the composition of the committee is very fluctuating. Appeals from the British dominions abroad lie in criminal as well as civil matters. The right of appeal is regulated as to most possessions by order in council, and in some cases is limited by imperial or colonial statute. Appeals are on fact as well as on law, but the committee rarely if ever disturbs the concurrent judgments on facts of two colonial courts. In the case of admiralty appeals from colonial or consular courts, naval assessors may be called in. The committee also hears (with the aid of ecclesiastical assessors) appeals from ecclesiastical courts. The judgment of the committee is in the form of a report and advice to the king, which is read by one of the members sitting, and no indication is given as to whether the members present are unanimous. Effect is given to the advice by orders in council dismissing or allowing the appeal, and giving direction as to the payment of costs and as to the further proceedings to be taken in the colonial courts.

As many as the committee members are, the quorum is three. One or more of the lords of appeal usually attend each hearing, but the committee's makeup varies a lot. Appeals from British territories abroad can be in both criminal and civil matters. The right to appeal is mostly governed by order in council for most territories, and in some cases, it’s restricted by imperial or colonial law. Appeals can be based on facts as well as law, but the committee rarely, if ever, overturns the factual judgments of two colonial courts. In cases of admiralty appeals from colonial or consular courts, naval assessors may get involved. The committee also hears appeals from ecclesiastical courts with the help of ecclesiastical assessors. The committee’s judgment is given as a report and advice to the king, read by one of the sitting members, and there’s no indication of whether the members present agree or not. The advice is acted upon through orders in council that either dismiss or allow the appeal, along with instructions regarding the payment of costs and any further actions to be taken in the colonial courts.

The procedure of the committee is on the same lines as that on appeals to the House of Lords; no well-arranged code of practice existed however up to the end of 1908, and new rules were then being proposed on the subject. The appeal is commenced by a petition of appeal, and by the giving of security for costs. In colonial appeals printed cases are lodged containing a summary of the contentions of the parties, and with this a printed copy of the record of the proceedings and documents used in the courts appealed from. The hearing is in the privy council chamber and is not public. When an appeal is called on, the counsel and parties are summoned into the chamber, and when the arguments are concluded they are requested to retire. The appeals to the king in council from colonial states having a federal constitution, like Canada and Australia, stand in an exceptional position. The act creating the Supreme Court of Canada purports to make the decision of that court final. But it is still the practice to admit by special leave a prerogative appeal from the court, and to entertain appeals from courts of the provinces of Canada direct to the king in council, without requiring them to go to the Supreme Court. The constitution of the Australian Commonwealth contemplates (§ 73) the possibility of restricting appeals to the king in council from the supreme courts of Australia, and sec. 74 forbids appeals to the king in council except by leave of the High Court of Australia from decision of that court on any question however arising as to the limits inter se of the constitutional powers of the commonwealth and those of any state or states, or as to the limits inter se of the constitutional powers of any two or more states. The exact effect of these enactments and of Australian legislation under § 73 is a matter of controversy.

The committee's procedures are similar to those for appeals to the House of Lords; however, until the end of 1908, there wasn't a well-organized code of practice, and new rules were being proposed at that time. An appeal starts with a petition of appeal and a requirement to provide security for costs. In colonial appeals, printed cases are submitted, which summarize the arguments of the parties. Along with this, a printed copy of the record of the proceedings and the documents used in the lower courts is included. The hearing takes place in the privy council chamber and is not open to the public. When an appeal is set to be heard, the counsel and parties are called into the chamber, and once the arguments are finished, they are asked to leave. Appeals to the king in council from colonial territories with a federal constitution, like Canada and Australia, have a unique status. The act that established the Supreme Court of Canada states that the decisions of that court are final. However, it is still customary to allow special permission for prerogative appeals from the court and to accept appeals directly from provincial courts in Canada to the king in council, bypassing the Supreme Court. The constitution of the Australian Commonwealth allows (§ 73) for the possibility of limiting appeals to the king in council from Australia’s supreme courts, and sec. 74 prohibits appeals to the king in council unless permitted by the High Court of Australia regarding any issue related to the distribution of constitutional powers between the commonwealth and any state or states, or among any two or more states. The precise implications of these provisions and the Australian legislation under § 73 are subjects of debate.

Scotland.—In Scotland the ordinary appellate tribunal for decisions of inferior courts and of the lords ordinary is the court of session, which for appellate purposes sits in two divisions. Appeals from inferior tribunals in criminal cases go before the judges of the court of session sitting in the High Court of Justiciary. The court of session was in its original constitution a committee of parliament for the performance of its judicial functions, and an appeal to parliament was consequently anomalous. In the reign of Charles II., however, the courts grew so intolerably corrupt that a determined effort was made to have their judgments overturned, by an appeal which was strictly of the old character of a cry for protection against flagrant injustice. It was called a “protest for remeid of law,” and was inserted as one of the national claims in the Petition of Right at the revolution. The treaty of union is silent as to appeals, though definitely excluding the right of English courts to interfere with Scottish courts or cases. The House of Lords has since the Union acted without challenge as the final appellate tribunal for Scotland in civil causes; but has always declined jurisdiction in Scottish criminal cases.

Scotland.—In Scotland, the main appellate court for decisions from lower courts and the lords ordinary is the Court of Session, which sits in two divisions for appellate cases. Appeals from lower tribunals in criminal matters go before the judges of the Court of Session sitting in the High Court of Justiciary. Originally, the Court of Session operated as a parliamentary committee performing judicial functions, so appealing to parliament was unusual. However, during the reign of Charles II, the courts became extremely corrupt, leading to serious efforts to overturn their decisions through appeals that were essentially pleas for protection against blatant injustice. This was known as a “protest for remeid of law” and was included as one of the national claims in the Petition of Right during the revolution. The Treaty of Union doesn’t mention appeals but explicitly prevents English courts from interfering with Scottish courts or cases. Since the Union, the House of Lords has acted without dispute as the final appellate tribunal for Scotland in civil matters but has consistently refused jurisdiction over Scottish criminal cases.

Ireland.—The Supreme Court of Judicature (Ireland) Acts have remodelled the courts and appellate system of Ireland on the same lines as those of England. The High Court of Justice in Ireland now consists of two divisions only, the chancery division, which has little or no appellate functions, and the king’s bench division, which has for Ireland substantially the same power of reviewing and correcting the decisions of inferior courts as has the corresponding court in England. To this there is one exception, that appeals from a county court in Ireland may be heard on circuit by a single judge of assize. In Ireland there is also a court of appeal, created in 1877, whose jurisdiction and procedure follow the same lines as that of the English court of appeal.

Ireland.—The Supreme Court of Judicature (Ireland) Acts have restructured the courts and appellate system of Ireland to align with those of England. The High Court of Justice in Ireland now consists of only two divisions: the chancery division, which has little to no appellate functions, and the king’s bench division, which has essentially the same authority as the corresponding court in England to review and correct decisions made by lower courts. There is one exception: appeals from a county court in Ireland can be heard on circuit by a single judge of assize. Additionally, Ireland has a court of appeal, established in 1877, whose jurisdiction and procedures follow those of the English court of appeal.

France.—The court of last resort in France for all cases, whether civil or criminal (en matière criminelle, correctionnelle et de police), is the cour de cassation, which sits in Paris. It is a court of error for the review of all judgments of tribunals of last resort (except juges de paix in certain cases), and for the transfer of causes from one court to another when justice so demands, and to determine conflicts of jurisdiction (Law 1 Dec. 1790). Ordinarily it is confined to errors of law and procedure, but where evidence not available below is brought before the court, it may send the case back for retrial or give the appropriate final judgment, as in the case of Dreyfus (1906). It also hears appeals from courts martial.

France.—The highest court in France for all cases, whether civil or criminal (en matière criminelle, correctionnelle et de police), is the cour de cassation, located in Paris. It functions as a court of error to review all judgments from the highest courts (except for juges de paix in certain instances) and to transfer cases between courts when justice requires it, as well as to resolve jurisdictional conflicts (Law 1 Dec. 1790). Typically, it deals with errors of law and procedure, but if new evidence that wasn't available in lower courts is presented, it can either send the case back for a retrial or issue the appropriate final judgment, as seen in the Dreyfus case (1906). It also hears appeals from military courts.

Next to the cour de cassation are the courts of appeal, which have jurisdiction to hear appeals (1) in civil matters from courts of first instance, juges de paix, and where the amount in dispute exceeds £60 from commercial courts, tribunaux de commerce (Civil Proc. Code, arts. 443-475); (2) in criminal matters from tribunaux correctionnels (Com. Proc. Code, arts. 202-235). The appeal is both on fact and on law, and applies to interlocutory or preparatory as well as to final judgments.

Next to the cour de cassation are the courts of appeal, which handle appeals (1) in civil cases from courts of first instance, juges de paix, and when the amount in question exceeds £60 from commercial courts, tribunaux de commerce (Civil Proc. Code, arts. 443-475); (2) in criminal cases from tribunaux correctionnels (Com. Proc. Code, arts. 202-235). The appeal is on both fact and law, and applies to interlocutory or preparatory judgments as well as final judgments.

Spain.—In Spain the jurisdiction and procedure with reference to appeals is on the same lines as in France. As regards civil matters it is regulated by title 21 of the Civil Procedure Code. The appeal to the supreme court is for the most part on questions of law (por infraccion de ley o de doctrina); but the court has also power to review judgments on materials not available at the first hearing (arts. 1796, 1801).

Spain.—In Spain, the rules and processes for appeals are similar to those in France. For civil matters, it is governed by title 21 of the Civil Procedure Code. Most appeals to the supreme court involve legal questions (por infraccion de ley o de doctrina); however, the court also has the authority to review judgments based on information that was not available during the initial hearing (arts. 1796, 1801).

British India.—In British India complete and systematic provision is made for appeals both in civil and in criminal cases by the Procedure Codes (Civil of 1882, with subsequent amendments, and Criminal of 1898), and also to some extent by the 216 charters of the high courts of Calcutta, Bombay and Madras (see Ilbert, Government of India, Oxford, 1898, p. 137). In addition, the decisions of subordinate tribunals may be revised by a superior tribunal proprio motu, or reviewed in a proper case by the tribunal which has given them; and provision is made for the consultation of a superior by an inferior tribunal in cases of legal difficulty. The policy of admitting so many appeals has been criticized. But with an enormous population which has no representative institutions it has been deemed wise to provide ample means of correcting judicial errors at the instance not only of the aggrieved person but also at the instance of the supervising judicial authorities, as a means of ensuring regularity and propriety in the conduct of judicial business by subordinate judges in out-of-the-way districts.

British India.—In British India, there are clear and organized procedures for appeals in both civil and criminal cases, as outlined in the Procedure Codes (Civil of 1882, with later amendments, and Criminal of 1898), and also to some extent by the 216 charters of the high courts in Calcutta, Bombay, and Madras (see Ilbert, Government of India, Oxford, 1898, p. 137). Additionally, decisions made by lower courts can be reviewed by a higher court proprio motu, or in certain cases, reconsidered by the court that made the decision; there are also provisions for lower courts to consult a higher court in cases of legal uncertainty. The policy of allowing so many appeals has faced criticism. However, given the vast population without representative institutions, it has been considered wise to provide plenty of avenues for correcting judicial errors, not just at the request of the affected individuals but also by the overseeing judicial authorities, to ensure consistency and proper conduct in the judicial process handled by lower judges in remote areas.

Civil Appeals.—(1) Except where otherwise expressly provided by the Civil Procedure Code, or by any other law for the time being in force, an appeal lies from the whole or part of any decree, whether made ex parte or inter partes, of a court exercising original jurisdiction (Civil Procedure Code, § 540). By “decree” is meant the final expression of an adjudication upon a right claimed or defence set up in a civil court, when such adjudication, so far as regards the court expressing it, decides the suit (§ 2). The appeal is both on facts and on law. The procedure on the appeal is prescribed by c. 41 of the Civil Procedure Code, and the directions of the code deal even with the language of the judgment on appeal and the matters to be stated therein. (2) Decrees passed on an appeal to any court in India subordinate to a High Court are as a general rule subject to appeal to the High Court on the grounds (a) that they are contrary to a specified law, or usage having the force of law; (b) that they have failed to determine some material issue of law, or usage having the force of law; (c) of substantial error or defect in procedure prescribed by the code or other law which might possibly have produced error or defect in the decision of the case upon the merits (§ 584). The procedure on these appeals is regulated by c. 42 of the Civil Procedure Code. (3) Appeals from orders which do not fall within the definition of decrees are allowed in the cases specified in § 588 of the code. The procedure with respect to these appeals is on the same lines as that on appeals against decrees (§ 590). Provision is made (by c. 44) for allowing appeals in forma pauperis after certain preliminary inquiries. In the High Courts appeals lie from the decision of one judge to two or more judges of the High Court, whose decision has effect as a judgment of the full court. Appeals, in civil cases, from the courts of India to the king in council are regulated by c. 45 of the Civil Procedure Code. The appealable amount is for most cases Rs. 10,000 or a claim or question as to property of like amount.

Civil Appeals.—(1) Unless specifically stated otherwise by the Civil Procedure Code or any other existing law, an appeal can be made from all or part of any decree, whether made ex parte or inter partes, by a court with original jurisdiction (Civil Procedure Code, § 540). A “decree” refers to the final decision on a right claimed or defense raised in a civil court, which resolves the case as far as the court issuing it is concerned (§ 2). The appeal covers both facts and law. The process for appealing is outlined in c. 41 of the Civil Procedure Code, and it includes guidance on the language of the judgment on appeal and the details that need to be included. (2) Generally, decrees made on appeal to any court in India beneath a High Court are subject to appeal to the High Court on the grounds that (a) they violate a specified law or legal practice; (b) they neglect to address a significant legal issue or legal practice; (c) there was a substantial error or defect in the procedure defined by the code or other law, which could have led to a mistake in the case's outcome (§ 584). The procedure for these appeals is governed by c. 42 of the Civil Procedure Code. (3) Appeals from orders that don’t meet the definition of decrees are permitted in the cases listed in § 588 of the code. The procedure for these appeals follows the same guidelines as those for appeals against decrees (§ 590). There are provisions (in c. 44) for allowing appeals in forma pauperis after certain preliminary inquiries. In the High Courts, appeals can be made from a decision by one judge to a panel of two or more judges of the High Court, whose decision acts as a judgment of the full court. Appeals in civil cases from Indian courts to the king in council are regulated by c. 45 of the Civil Procedure Code. The amount that can be appealed for most cases is Rs. 10,000 or a claim or question regarding property of a similar amount.

Besides the provisions stated as to appeals, Indian courts have power in certain contingencies to review their own decisions (§ 623). An inferior court may also refer cases of difficulty to the High Court on a statement of the facts as found in the referring court and of the opinion thereon of that Court (§§ 617-620); and in cases in which no appeal lies to the High Court, that court may call for the record of any case in which the court below appears to have acted without jurisdiction or failed to exercise its jurisdiction, or to have exercised its jurisdiction illegally or with material illegality (§ 622).

Besides the rules for appeals, Indian courts have the authority to review their own decisions under certain circumstances (§ 623). A lower court can also send difficult cases to the High Court, providing a statement of the facts as determined by the lower court and its opinion on the matter (§§ 617-620); in cases where there’s no right to appeal to the High Court, that court can request the records of any case where the lower court seems to have acted without jurisdiction, failed to use its jurisdiction, or exercised its jurisdiction improperly or with significant illegality (§ 622).

Criminal Matters.—Criminal jurisdiction in India is exercised by magistrates of the first, second and third class, by sessions courts, and the high or chief courts of the presidencies or provinces (Criminal Procedure Code of 1898). The higher judges in a district have the power of revising those decisions which are not absolutely summary of the judges of the classes below them in the same district; i.e. the sessions judge can revise the decisions of a first-class magistrate, and the High Court those of a sessions judge (§ 435). Inferior tribunals can also refer questions of law to the High Court (§§ 432, 433); and where a sentence of death is passed, or a sessions judge differs from the jury (§ 307), the matter must be referred to the High Court. On matters of reference or revision the parties have no right to be heard.

Criminal Matters.—Criminal jurisdiction in India is handled by first, second, and third class magistrates, sessions courts, and the high or chief courts of the presidencies or provinces (Criminal Procedure Code of 1898). The higher judges in a district have the authority to review decisions that are not strictly summary from the judges below them in the same district; i.e. the sessions judge can review the decisions of a first-class magistrate, and the High Court can review those of a sessions judge (§ 435). Lower courts can also send questions of law to the High Court (§§ 432, 433); and if a death sentence is imposed, or if a sessions judge disagrees with the jury (§ 307), the case must be sent to the High Court. In matters of reference or revision, the parties do not have the right to be heard.

Provision is also made for appeals by c. 31 of the Code. Appeals from second- or third-class magistrates are dealt with by the district (first-class) magistrate (§ 407). Persons convicted on trial by assistant sessions judges or first-class magistrates, except in cases where the punishment is very small, have an appeal to the sessions judge (§§ 408, 413). A person convicted on trial by the sessions judge has an appeal to the High Court (§ 410), but where he has pleaded guilty the only point on which appeal is open is the legality or extent of sentence (§ 412). Special provision is made as to appeals by persons born in Europe (whether British subjects or not) and Americans (§§ 408, 415, and c. 33).

Provision is also made for appeals by c. 31 of the Code. Appeals from second- or third-class magistrates are handled by the district (first-class) magistrate (§ 407). People convicted in trials by assistant sessions judges or first-class magistrates, except for cases with very minor penalties, can appeal to the sessions judge (§§ 408, 413). A person convicted in a trial by the sessions judge can appeal to the High Court (§ 410), but if they pleaded guilty, the only grounds for appeal are the legality or extent of the sentence (§ 412). Specific provisions are made regarding appeals by individuals born in Europe (whether British subjects or not) and Americans (§§ 408, 415, and c. 33).

In criminal cases there is a right of appeal to the king in council in certain cases provided for by the charters of the chartered high courts (see Ilbert, Government of India, Oxford, 1898, p. 137).

In criminal cases, there is a right to appeal to the king in council in specific situations outlined by the charters of the chartered high courts (see Ilbert, Government of India, Oxford, 1898, p. 137).

An appeal also lies in certain cases from the courts of British officers in feudatory states of India to a high court in India, and from the courts of Aden and Zanzibar and British East Africa to the High Court of Bombay. Appeals do not lie from the courts of native states to British courts in India, though in some cases there is an appeal of a political rather than judicial nature from the judicial tribunals of feudatory states; e.g. in the case of Kathiawar (Hemchand Derchand v. Azam Sakarlal; 1906. L.R. A.C. 212).

An appeal can also be made in certain cases from the courts of British officers in the feudatory states of India to a high court in India, and from the courts of Aden, Zanzibar, and British East Africa to the High Court of Bombay. Appeals cannot be made from the courts of native states to British courts in India, although in some situations there is a political rather than judicial appeal from the judicial tribunals of feudatory states; e.g. in the case of Kathiawar (Hemchand Derchand v. Azam Sakarlal; 1906. L.R. A.C. 212).

Canada.—In Canada each province has the regulation of its own courts of justice. In Ontario the judiciary are organized, under the Provincial Judicature Acts, in much the same manner as in England; and the review of decisions of inferior courts (by appeal or other proceedings based on English practice) is in the hands of the High Court of Justice, subject to appeal to the provincial court of appeal. In Quebec the highest court (king’s bench), besides its original jurisdiction, has appellate jurisdiction over the superior court (see Quebec Civil Procedure Code, art. 1114 et seq.). The jurisdiction is exercised by writ of error or by appeal, according to the nature of the decision appealed from. The judges of the superior court have also, under art. 494, power to review before three judges decisions of a judge of that court or of a circuit court (arts. 494-504). Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Manitoba and British Columbia have supreme courts with appellate authority over decisions of single judges of the court and over inferior tribunals in the province. Appeals lie from the highest courts of each province, in civil matters, to the Supreme Court of Canada, or to the king in council in cases falling within the orders in council applying to each province, but in criminal matters to the king in council. From the Supreme Court of Canada no appeal lies as of right to the king in council (Dominion Act 1875, 38 Vic. c. 11, § 47), and the royal prerogative of granting special leave to appeal is sparingly exercised. The principles on which the judicial committee acts in advising for or against the grant of special leave in civil case& are stated in Daily Telegraph Newspaper Co. v. M‘Laughlin, 1904, L.R. A.C. 776. It is, however, as before, quite common for appeals to be brought direct to the privy council from the provincial courts without resort to the Dominion court (see Wheeler, Privy Council Law, p. 955).

Canada.—In Canada, each province regulates its own courts. In Ontario, the judiciary is organized under the Provincial Judicature Acts in a way that's similar to how it's done in England. The High Court of Justice handles appeals for decisions made by lower courts, and those decisions can also be taken to the provincial court of appeal. In Quebec, the highest court (king’s bench) has both original jurisdiction and appellate jurisdiction over the superior court (see Quebec Civil Procedure Code, art. 1114 et seq). The jurisdiction is exercised through writ of error or appeal, depending on the type of decision being challenged. The judges of the superior court also have the power, under art. 494, to review decisions made by a judge of that court or of a circuit court with three judges (arts. 494-504). Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Manitoba, and British Columbia have supreme courts that can hear appeals from individual judges and lower tribunals within the province. Appeals from the highest courts of each province in civil matters go to the Supreme Court of Canada, or to the king in council for cases that fall under specific orders in council for each province, while criminal matters go to the king in council. There is no right of appeal from the Supreme Court of Canada to the king in council (Dominion Act 1875, 38 Vic. c. 11, § 47), and the royal prerogative to grant special leave for appeal is seldom used. The principles guiding the judicial committee in deciding whether to grant special leave in civil cases are outlined in Daily Telegraph Newspaper Co. v. M‘Laughlin, 1904, L.R. A.C. 776. However, it remains quite common for appeals to go directly to the Privy Council from provincial courts without going through the Dominion court (see Wheeler, Privy Council Law, p. 955).

Australia.—Each of the states of the Australian Commonwealth has its own supreme court. The Commonwealth parliament constituted in 1903 a High Court for Australia, which, besides its original federal jurisdiction, is also a court of appeal from the supreme courts of the constitutional states, or from any state court from which an appeal lay to the king in council at the establishment of the Commonwealth. The jurisdiction of the court is defined by the Judiciary Act of 1903, by which it is created. The right of appeal is given both as to criminal and civil matters.

Australia.—Each state in the Australian Commonwealth has its own supreme court. In 1903, the Commonwealth parliament established a High Court for Australia, which, in addition to its original federal jurisdiction, also serves as a court of appeal from the supreme courts of the constitutional states, or from any state court that allowed appeals to the king in council when the Commonwealth was formed. The court's jurisdiction is outlined in the Judiciary Act of 1903, which created it. The right to appeal applies to both criminal and civil matters.

South Africa.—In Cape Colony and Natal the appellate courts are the supreme courts, subject to further appeal in certain cases to the king in council. The superior courts of Cape Colony are empowered to review the proceedings of all inferior courts in the colony and its dependencies in cases where no appeal lies. There was for a time an appeal from the High Court of Orange 217 River Colony to the supreme court of the Transvaal, and from that court (whether acting for its own colony or on appeal from the Orange Colony), an appeal to the king in council. In other colonies the provisions as to appeal follow more or less closely the lines of English law and procedure as to appeals, and in all cases the ultimate appeal is to the king in council.

South Africa.—In Cape Colony and Natal, the highest courts are the appellate courts, which can sometimes be appealed to the king in council. The superior courts of Cape Colony can review the cases of all lower courts in the colony and its dependencies when there’s no right to appeal. For a while, there was an appeal from the High Court of Orange River Colony to the supreme court of the Transvaal, and from that court, whether dealing with its own colony or handling an appeal from the Orange Colony, an appeal could go to the king in council. In other colonies, the rules about appeals generally align with English law and procedures, with the ultimate appeal being to the king in council.

United States.—In the American courts the term “appeal” covers (1) a removal of a cause to a higher court for retrial on all the questions of law or fact involved, or (2) taking up points of law only by proceedings in error, for revision by a higher court. Decrees in admiralty, bankruptcy and equity, in the federal courts, are the subjects of an appeal; judgments in actions at law, of a writ of error. On an equity appeal the evidence taken at the original hearing is reported at length to the appellate court, and it has the right to review the conclusions of fact reached by the court below and come to different ones. This, however, is seldom done, the appeal being almost always decided on points of law based upon the conclusions of fact reached in the original hearing. In admiralty appeals the conclusions of fact reached by the trial court are specially set forth, and are final.

United States.—In American courts, the term “appeal” refers to (1) moving a case to a higher court for a retrial on all the legal or factual questions involved, or (2) addressing legal points only through error proceedings for a review by a higher court. Appeals can be made for decrees in admiralty, bankruptcy, and equity in federal courts, while judgments in legal actions can be challenged through a writ of error. In an equity appeal, the evidence presented at the initial hearing is fully reported to the appellate court, which has the authority to review the factual conclusions made by the lower court and may arrive at different conclusions. However, this rarely happens; appeals are almost always resolved based on legal points tied to the factual conclusions reached in the original hearing. In admiralty appeals, the factual conclusions made by the trial court are clearly stated and are final.

“Appeal” in many of the states is the general term for reviewing any judgment of an inferior court on assignments of error. It is also often used to signify a mode of reviewing proceedings of municipal bodies, affecting the interests of particular persons, e.g. in matters of licences or assessments.

“Appeal” in many states is the broad term for reviewing any judgment made by a lower court regarding claims of error. It’s also commonly used to refer to a way of reviewing actions taken by local bodies that impact the interests of specific individuals, e.g. in matters related to licenses or assessments.

In criminal prosecutions an appeal, or writ of error on points of law, is almost everywhere allowed by statute to the defendant, and often to the state. (United States v. Sanges, 144 United States Reports, 310; State v. Lee, 65 Connecticut Reports, 265.)

In criminal cases, an appeal, or writ of error on legal issues, is generally permitted by law for the defendant, and often for the state as well. (United States v. Sanges, 144 United States Reports, 310; State v. Lee, 65 Connecticut Reports, 265.)

By the constitution of the United States the Supreme Court is vested with “appellate jurisdiction, both as to law and fact, with such exceptions, and under such regulations, as the Congress shall make.” This provision is held not to create but only to authorize the creation of the jurisdiction. In the words of Chancellor Kent, “If congress had not provided any rule to regulate the proceedings in appeal, the court could not exercise an appellate jurisdiction: and, if a rule be provided, the court could not depart from it.” In pursuance of this principle, the Supreme Court decided in Clarke v. Bazadone that a writ of error did not lie to that court from a court of the United States territory north-west of the Ohio, because the act had not authorized an appeal or writ of error from such a court (Commentaries, i. 324). The appellate jurisdiction of the court is now regulated by title 13 chap. ii. of the Revised Statutes of the United States (1873), §§ 690-710; and by the acts enumerated at p. 901 of the Revised Statutes, United States, 1873 to 1891. Under these statutes the Supreme Court may entertain appeals from the highest court of a state of the Union, but only (1) where the state court has decided against the validity of a treaty or statute of the United States, or of an authority exercised under the United States; (2) where a state court has affirmed the validity of a statute, or of an authority exercised which has been challenged on the ground of repugnance to the constitution, laws or treaties of the United States; (3) where the state court has decided against the existence of a title, right, privilege, or immunity claimed or set up under the constitution of, or under any statute, treaty, commission or authority of the United States.

By the Constitution of the United States, the Supreme Court is given “appellate jurisdiction, both as to law and fact, with such exceptions, and under such regulations, as Congress shall make.” This provision doesn’t create but only authorizes the creation of the jurisdiction. As Chancellor Kent stated, “If Congress had not provided any rule to regulate the proceedings in appeal, the court could not exercise appellate jurisdiction; and, if a rule is provided, the court could not deviate from it.” Following this principle, the Supreme Court decided in Clarke v. Bazadone that a writ of error did not apply to that court from a court in the United States territory northwest of the Ohio, because the act had not authorized an appeal or writ of error from such a court (Commentaries, i. 324). The appellate jurisdiction of the court is now governed by title 13 chap. ii. of the Revised Statutes of the United States (1873), §§ 690-710; and by the acts listed on p. 901 of the Revised Statutes, United States, 1873 to 1891. According to these statutes, the Supreme Court may hear appeals from the highest court of a state in the Union, but only (1) when the state court has ruled against the validity of a treaty or statute of the United States, or an authority exercised under the United States; (2) when a state court has upheld the validity of a statute, or an authority exercised that has been challenged on the basis of being inconsistent with the Constitution, laws, or treaties of the United States; (3) when the state court has ruled against the existence of a title, right, privilege, or immunity claimed or established under the Constitution of, or any statute, treaty, commission, or authority of the United States.

The appeal from state courts is by writ of error, i.e. on law only; and applies as well in criminal as in civil cases. The Supreme Court will not act unless the federal question was raised in the court below (Chicago U.S. Mail Co. v. McGuire, 1904, 196, U.S. 128). The circuit court of appeals, established in 1891, deals with appeals from the district and circuit courts of the United States, except where other provision is made, e.g. where the jurisdiction of the court appealed from is in question; in prize causes and convictions of capital crimes (U.S. Statutes, 1801, c. 54. § 5); in cases involving the construction or application of the constitution; in cases arising in district or circuit courts involving the constitutional questions already stated as subject of appeal from state courts.

The appeal from state courts is done through a writ of error, meaning it’s based on legal issues only, and it applies to both criminal and civil cases. The Supreme Court won’t get involved unless a federal question was raised in the lower court (Chicago U.S. Mail Co. v. McGuire, 1904, 196 U.S. 128). The circuit court of appeals, which was set up in 1891, handles appeals from the district and circuit courts of the United States, unless there are other rules in place, like when the jurisdiction of the court in question is unclear; in prize cases and in convictions of capital offenses (U.S. Statutes, 1801, c. 54. § 5); in cases that involve interpreting or applying the constitution; and in cases from district or circuit courts concerning the constitutional issues mentioned previously that are available for appeal from state courts.

The review by the circuit court of appeals is effected by appeal or by writ of error, and its decision is final, with certain exceptions but with power to certify cases to the Supreme Court for instructions (1891, c. 511, § 6).

The circuit court of appeals reviews cases through an appeal or a writ of error, and its decision is final, with some exceptions. However, it has the authority to send cases to the Supreme Court for guidance (1891, c. 511, § 6).

The Supreme Court hears appeals from the circuit court of appeals within the limits above stated, and appeals from the circuit and district courts in cases in which an appeal does not lie to the circuit court of appeals, and has power to issue a certiorari to transfer a case from the circuit court of Appeals.

The Supreme Court hears appeals from the circuit court of appeals within the previously mentioned limits, as well as appeals from the circuit and district courts in cases where an appeal cannot go to the circuit court of appeals, and it has the authority to issue a certiorari to move a case from the circuit court of appeals.

(W. F. C.)

APPEARANCE (from Lat. apparere, to appear), in law, the coming into court of either of the parties to a suit; the formal act by which a defendant submits himself to the jurisdiction of the court. The defendant in an action in the High Court of England enters his appearance to the writ of summons by delivering, either at the central office of the Supreme Court, or a district registry, a written memorandum either giving his solicitor’s name or stating that he defends in person. He must also give notice to the plaintiff of his appearance, which ought, according to the time limited by the writ, to be within eight days after service; a defendant may, however, appear any time before judgment. The Rules of the Supreme Court, orders xii. and xiii., regulate the procedure with respect to the entering of an appearance, the giving of notice, the limit of time, the setting aside and the general effect of default of appearance. In county courts there is no appearance other than the coming into court of the parties to the suit. In criminal cases the accused appears in person. In civil cases infants appear by their guardians ad litem; lunatics by their committee; companies by a solicitor; friendly societies by the trustee or other officer appointed to sue or be sued on behalf thereof.

APPEARANCE (from Lat. apparere, to appear), in law, refers to when either party in a legal case shows up in court; it’s the formal act where a defendant submits to the court's authority. In a case in the High Court of England, the defendant acknowledges the writ of summons by submitting a written notice either at the central office of the Supreme Court or at a district registry, stating either their solicitor’s name or that they are defending themselves. They must also notify the plaintiff of their appearance, which should be done within eight days after being served, according to the timeframe set by the writ; however, a defendant can show up at any time before the judgment. The Rules of the Supreme Court, specifically orders xii. and xiii., outline the procedures for entering an appearance, notifying parties, time limits, setting aside defaults, and the general consequences of not appearing. In county courts, the only appearance occurs when the parties in the case come into court. In criminal cases, the accused appears in person. In civil cases, minors appear through their guardians ad litem; individuals deemed mentally incompetent appear through their committee; companies are represented by a solicitor; and friendly societies are represented by a trustee or another appointed officer acting on their behalf.


APPENDICITIS, the modern medical term for inflammation of that part of the intestine which is known as the “appendix.” Though not a new disease, there can be no doubt that it is far commoner than it used to be, though the explanation of this increased frequency is not yet forthcoming. Amongst the virulent micro-organisms associated with the disease no one specific germ has hitherto been found. It may be remarked that the theories that influenza, or the use of preserved foods, may be connected with the disease as cause and effect, have supporters. Sometimes the disease is due to the impaction of a pin, shot-corn, tooth-brush bristle, or fish-bone in the appendix, which has set up inflammation and ulceration. In many cases a patch of mortification with perforation of the appendix is caused by the presence of a hard faecal concretion, or “stercolith,” which from its size, shape and appearance has been mistaken by a casual observer for a date-stone or cherry-stone.

APPENDICITIS, is the modern medical term for inflammation of the part of the intestine known as the “appendix.” While it's not a new disease, there's no doubt it's more common now than it used to be, although the reason for this increase isn't clear yet. Among the harmful micro-organisms linked to the disease, no specific germ has been identified so far. It's worth noting that there are supporters of theories suggesting a connection between influenza or the consumption of preserved foods and the disease as cause and effect. Sometimes, the disease results from a foreign object like a pin, shot-corn, a tooth-brush bristle, or a fish-bone getting stuck in the appendix, triggering inflammation and ulceration. In many cases, a patch of tissue death along with perforation of the appendix is caused by a hard fecal mass, or “stercolith,” which has been misidentified by casual observers as a date stone or a cherry pit.

Apart from the fact of the more frequent occurrence of appendicitis, the disease is now better understood and more promptly recognized. It was formerly included under the term “perityphlitis”—that is, inflammation connected with the caecum or blind portion of the large intestine. But in the vast majority of cases the inflammation begins in the appendix, not in the intestine proper. It is apt to extend and set up a localized peritonitis, which in the worst cases may become general.

Aside from the fact that appendicitis happens more often now, we also understand the disease better and recognize it more quickly. It used to be called “perityphlitis,” meaning inflammation related to the caecum or the blind part of the large intestine. However, in most cases, the inflammation starts in the appendix, not in the intestine itself. It can spread and cause localized peritonitis, which in severe cases may become widespread.

Appendicitis is more often met with in the young than the old, and in boys rather than girls; and in some families there is a strange predisposition towards it. It is often started by a chill, or by over-exertion, and sometimes the attack follows a blow or strain, or some other direct injury, after which the virulent micro-organisms seize on the mucous membrane and involve the appendix in acute inflammation.

Appendicitis is more common in young people than in older ones, and it's more frequent in boys than in girls; some families seem to have a weird tendency for it. It can often be triggered by a chill or by doing too much physical activity, and sometimes the attack comes after a blow, strain, or another kind of direct injury, which allows harmful microorganisms to infect the mucous membrane and cause acute inflammation of the appendix.

The appendix is a narrow tube, about the size of a goose-quill, with an average length of 3 in. It terminates in a blunt point, and from its worm-like shape is called vermiformis. It is an appendage of the large intestine, into which it opens, and is regarded as the degenerate relic, surviving in man and other mammals, of an earlier form of intestine. Foreign bodies passing down the intestinal canal may find their way into the appendix and lodge there. Frequently the diseased appendix is found blocked by hard faeces or undigested particles of food, such as nuts, fibrous vegetable matter, and other imperfectly masticated substances; inflammation may occur, however, without the presence of any impacted material. The appendix may be 218 twisted, bent, or otherwise strangulated, or its orifice may be blocked, so that the tube is distended with mucus which can find no outlet; or ulceration of tuberculous or malignant origin may occur. Inflammation started in the appendix is liable to spread to the peritoneum, and herein lies the gravity of the affection and the indication for treatment. The symptoms vary from “indigestion,” and slight pain and sickness, which pass off in a few short days, to an exceedingly violent illness, which may cause death in a few hours. Pain is usually first felt in the belly, low down on the right side or across the region of the navel; sometimes, however, it is diffuse, and at other times it is scarcely complained of. There is some fever, the temperature rising to 101° or 102° F., with nausea, and very likely with vomiting. The abdomen is tender to pressure, and the tenderness may be referred to the spot mentioned above. Some swelling may also be made out in that region. The attack may last for two, three or four days, and then subside. There are, however, other cases less well defined, in which the mischief pursues a latent course, producing little more than a vague abdominal uneasiness, until it suddenly advances into a violent stage. In some chronic cases the trouble continues, on and off, for months or even for years.

The appendix is a narrow tube, about the size of a goose feather, with an average length of 3 inches. It ends in a blunt point and has a worm-like shape, which is why it's called vermiformis. It is a part of the large intestine, where it connects, and is seen as a leftover feature from an earlier version of the intestine found in humans and other mammals. Foreign objects passing through the intestinal tract can get stuck in the appendix. Often, a diseased appendix is blocked by hardened stool or undigested food particles, like nuts, fibrous plant material, and other poorly chewed substances; however, inflammation can happen even if there’s no blockage. The appendix may be twisted, bent, or strangled, or its opening could be blocked, causing the tube to fill with mucus that has no way to escape; or it could become ulcerated from tuberculosis or cancer. Inflammation that starts in the appendix can spread to the abdominal lining, which is why this condition is serious and requires treatment. Symptoms can range from “indigestion,” mild pain, and nausea that go away in a few days, to severe illness that can lead to death within hours. Pain is usually felt in the lower right side of the abdomen or around the belly button; sometimes it’s widespread, and other times it’s hardly noticeable. There’s often a fever, with temperatures rising to 101° or 102° F., along with nausea and probably vomiting. The abdomen is tender to touch, particularly in the area mentioned earlier. Some swelling might also be noticeable there. The episode can last for two, three, or four days before easing up. However, there are other cases that are less clearly defined, where the condition develops slowly, causing little more than vague abdominal discomfort until it suddenly escalates into a severe stage. In some chronic cases, issues can persist intermittently for months or even years.

Large Intestine showing Vermiform Appendix (v.a.) and Caecum (c).

On paper it is easy to arrange cases of appendicitis into three classes—catarrhal, ulcerative and mortifying—but in actual practice this is neither desirable nor possible. Such classification is based upon the symptoms, and in appendicitis symptoms may be actually misleading. The three conditions to which the surgeon chiefly looks for guidance are the aspect of the patient, the rate of his pulse and the degree of fever as shown by the thermometer. But in certain cases of appendicitis, though the surgeon knows intuitively, or, at least, suspects, that the general condition is extremely serious, the patient looks fairly well and says that he is not in pain, his pulse-rate being but little quickened and his temperature being but slightly above normal. Nevertheless, when the surgeon has opened the belly in the appendix region, he finds the appendix swollen, perforated and mortified, and lying in a stinking abscess, whilst inflammation has already spread to the neighbouring coils of intestine. Unfortunately, the surgeon can no more tell what he is going to find at his operation in some of these cases than he can foretell the course which any particular case is going to run.

On paper, it's simple to categorize cases of appendicitis into three types—catarrhal, ulcerative, and mortifying—but in reality, this isn’t practical or possible. This classification relies on symptoms, and in appendicitis, the symptoms can actually be deceptive. The three main indicators that the surgeon focuses on are the patient's overall appearance, the pulse rate, and the fever level as measured by the thermometer. However, in certain cases of appendicitis, even though the surgeon intuitively knows, or at least suspects, that the patient's condition is extremely serious, the patient may appear relatively well and claim not to be in pain, with only a slightly elevated pulse and a temperature that’s just above normal. Still, when the surgeon opens up the abdomen in the area of the appendix, he finds the appendix swollen, perforated, and dying, embedded in a foul abscess, while inflammation has already spread to the nearby loops of intestine. Unfortunately, the surgeon can’t predict what he will find during the operation in some of these cases any more than he can anticipate the trajectory of a particular case.

We may most usefully give here the symptoms as they are likely to be found in an ordinary case of appendicitis, and as they may be observed by one who is not a member of the medical profession, in a way that may prove helpful to him when circumstances have awakened his interest in the disease.

We can most effectively outline the symptoms typically seen in a common case of appendicitis, as they might be observed by someone who isn’t in the medical field, in a way that could be helpful when their interest in the disease has been piqued by certain circumstances.

The case taken shall be that of a boy at school, for, as already stated, boys are more prone to the disease than girls. The boy has had, may be, occasional attacks of “indigestion” which have duly passed away under the influence of aperient medicines, and, being heated at play, he has sat down upon the cold ground. Or he has got wet through or over-tired during a long walk or ride. At any rate, his vital powers have been suddenly lowered, and the micro-organisms teeming in his bowel have seized upon the lining membrane of the appendix. He feels out of sorts, and if he manages to eat a meal he very likely vomits it soon after, for the whole nervous system of his abdomen is disturbed by the local inflammation. The act of vomiting gives slight relief, however, and probably he begins to complain of pains in his head as well as in his abdomen, and possibly he has an attack of shivering—the result of disturbance of his general nervous system. By this time he may be attacked with intense pain in the part of his abdomen a little above the middle of the right groin, and at that spot there may be a tenderness, and a feeling of resistance may be made out by the gentle pressure of the finger. In order to relax the pressure upon the tender area he probably lies with his right thigh slightly bent. By this time he may look ill, his face being slightly flushed, or pale and anxious. If the clinical thermometer is placed under his tongue, the index may rise a degree or two, perhaps several degrees, above normal, and his pulse may be quickened to 90 or 100 beats a minute. Perhaps it is a good deal quicker than this. Later, the skin of the lower part of the right side of the abdomen may be flushed or reddened.

The case we’ll look at is that of a boy in school, since, as mentioned before, boys are more likely to get this illness than girls. The boy might have had occasional bouts of “indigestion” that went away with laxatives, and after getting overheated at play, he sat down on the cold ground. He could have gotten soaked or exhausted from a long walk or ride. Regardless, his energy has suddenly dropped, and the micro-organisms in his intestines have attacked the lining of the appendix. He feels unwell, and if he manages to eat something, he likely throws it up soon after because the inflammation in his abdomen is disturbing his entire nervous system. Vomiting provides slight relief, but soon he may begin to complain about headaches in addition to stomach pain, and he might even shiver, which is caused by the disruption in his overall nervous system. By now, he may be experiencing sharp pain in the area of his abdomen just above the right groin, where there may be tenderness and a sense of resistance when gently pressed with a finger. To ease the pressure on the tender area, he probably lies with his right thigh slightly bent. At this point, he might look unwell, with his face either flushed or pale and anxious. If a clinical thermometer is placed under his tongue, the temperature may rise by one or two degrees, maybe even several degrees, above normal, and his pulse could quicken to 90 or 100 beats per minute, maybe even faster. Eventually, the skin on the lower part of the right side of his abdomen may turn flushed or red.

This clinical picture leaves no room for doubt. The boy has an attack of acute septic inflammation of his appendix. Let it be that the symptoms have come on quickly, and that the affection is not more than ten or twelve hours old; no one can tell precisely what course the disease is going to run. It may be that with rest in bed, constant fomentations, and absolute starvation, the inflammation will subside; but it is just as likely that in spite of this judicious treatment the symptoms will go from bad to worse, and that a belated operation will fail to rescue the boy from a general peritonitis which may end fatally. But at present, so far as one can tell, the disease is still limited to the appendix. And what, at this moment, is the best line of treatment? Some practitioners would answer—“Let the acute attack settle down, and then, after a week or ten days, when everything is quiet, remove the appendix, for statistics show that when the operation is done in the quiet interval the results are extremely favourable, whilst if it is done in the acute stage the outlook is not so bright.” This is quite right. But one cannot be sure that the “quiet interval” will ever arrive. The case in question may be one of those which rapidly go on from bad to worse, and mortification and perforation of the appendix having taken place over some hard faecal concretion, general peritonitis is inevitable, with distension of the bowel and hopeless blood-poisoning. If it were certain that the attack of appendicitis would subside and become quiescent, it would be wise to wait. But it too often happens that the first attack is, indeed, the last. Acute appendicitis is one thing; relapsing appendicitis is another. The latter condition is very manageable.

This clinical situation leaves no doubt. The boy is experiencing an acute septic inflammation of his appendix. Even though the symptoms appeared suddenly and the condition is no more than ten or twelve hours old, no one can predict exactly how the disease will progress. It's possible that with bed rest, regular hot compresses, and complete fasting, the inflammation will ease up; however, it's just as likely that despite this careful treatment, the symptoms will worsen, and a delayed surgery will fail to save the boy from a widespread peritonitis that could be fatal. But for now, as far as we can tell, the disease is still confined to the appendix. So, what is the best treatment approach at this moment? Some doctors might say, “Let the acute attack calm down, and then after a week or ten days, when everything is stable, remove the appendix, because statistics show that when the surgery is performed during a quiet period, the results are very favorable, whereas if done during the acute phase, the outlook isn’t as good.” This is true. But one cannot be certain that the “quiet period” will ever come. The specific case might be one of those that rapidly deteriorate, leading to tissue death and perforation of the appendix due to a hard fecal block, making general peritonitis unavoidable, along with bowel swelling and severe blood poisoning. If it were guaranteed that the appendicitis would calm down and resolve, it would make sense to wait. But too often, the first episode is indeed the last. Acute appendicitis is one thing; recurring appendicitis is another. The latter is much easier to manage.

Inasmuch, then, as it is impossible to know what direction the disease will take, whether to quiescence or to disaster, it is for the greatest good in the greatest number of cases that the inflamed appendix be removed by operation whilst the disease is still limited to the appendix. It is highly probable that if every available hospital surgeon were asked if he had ever had cause to regret having advised early operation in a case of appendicitis the answer would be “No”; on the other hand, every surgeon would be able to recall cases in which delay had been followed by disaster—which an early resort to operation would, in all probability, have prevented.

Since it’s impossible to predict the course of the disease, whether it will lead to recovery or serious complications, it’s best for the majority of cases that the inflamed appendix is removed through surgery while the disease is still confined to the appendix. It’s highly likely that if every available hospital surgeon were asked if they ever regretted recommending early surgery for appendicitis, the answer would be “No”; on the flip side, every surgeon could remember cases where delays led to serious problems that early surgery would likely have prevented.

If the disease is going to assume the severe form, all the symptoms, as a rule, increase in severity. The facial expression becomes more anxious, and the accumulation of gas in the paralysed intestine causes an increase in the abdominal distension, so that the patient lies with his knees drawn up. The vomiting continues. The pulse quickens to 120 or 140 a minute, and the temperature rises, perhaps to 104° F. The swelling and tenderness increase on the right side of the abdomen, and if the abscess does not find escape externally it probably bursts into the general peritoneal cavity, and the patient becomes bathed in profuse sweat, the result of blood-poisoning. Death is likely to follow within two days, the result of blood-poisoning and exhaustion.

If the disease is going to take a severe turn, all the symptoms generally worsen. The facial expression becomes more anxious, and the buildup of gas in the paralyzed intestine leads to more abdominal swelling, causing the patient to lie with their knees drawn up. The vomiting continues. The pulse speeds up to 120 or 140 beats per minute, and the temperature rises, possibly reaching 104° F. The swelling and tenderness on the right side of the abdomen increase, and if the abscess doesn't break through to the outside, it likely bursts into the general peritoneal cavity, leaving the patient drenched in heavy sweat due to blood poisoning. Death is likely to occur within two days, due to blood poisoning and exhaustion.

Catarrhal and Relapsing Appendicitis.—Some cases of appendicitis run a mild course, giving rise to no worse symptoms, perhaps, than those of “indigestion” and nausea, with a feeling of general discomfort in the abdomen, and, probably, some local tenderness. The attack may be preceded or accompanied by constipation. The administration of a mild aperient or an enema, rest, starvation and fomentation will probably put matters right again—at any rate for a time.

Catarrhal and Relapsing Appendicitis.—Some cases of appendicitis are mild, causing symptoms that might be no worse than “indigestion” and nausea, along with a general feeling of discomfort in the abdomen and some local tenderness. The episode may be preceded or accompanied by constipation. Taking a mild laxative or an enema, along with rest, not eating, and using warm compresses will likely help improve the situation—at least for a while.

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This form of the disease may be due to the presence of “bolted,” unchewed or indigestible food in that part of the large intestine into which the appendix opens. And these mild recurrent attacks may sometimes be got rid of altogether by having the teeth put in order, and by inducing the individual to choose his food with discretion, to chew it carefully, to take his meals regularly and to eat slowly.

This type of the disease might be caused by the presence of "bolted," unchewed, or indigestible food in the section of the large intestine where the appendix connects. These mild, recurring episodes can sometimes be completely resolved by fixing dental issues and encouraging the person to select their food wisely, chew it thoroughly, eat regular meals, and slow down while dining.

Obviously, these attacks are very different from those of the acute septic form of the disease described above, though there is no telling that one of them may not develop into the acute form. Some of the mild attacks are due to a kink in the appendix, or to some other condition which temporarily prevents the secretions of the appendix from finding their way into the large intestine. Others of them are caused by a passing catarrhal inflammation of the lining of the appendix and have a distant resemblance to a recurring “sore throat.”

Clearly, these attacks are quite different from the acute septic form of the disease mentioned earlier, although it's possible that one of them could turn into the acute form. Some of the mild attacks are caused by a blockage in the appendix or some other condition that temporarily stops the appendix's secretions from reaching the large intestine. Others are triggered by a short-term inflammation of the appendix lining and are somewhat similar to a recurring "sore throat."

After undergoing one or two of these mild attacks the patient would be well advised to have his appendix removed when it has once more got into the “quiet stage.” Experience abundantly shows that the operation can then be performed with but slight disturbance of the patient, and with the smallest possible amount of risk. And until his vulnerable appendix has been removed he is never safe.

After experiencing one or two of these mild attacks, the patient should consider getting their appendix removed once it returns to the “quiet stage.” Experience clearly shows that the surgery can then be done with minimal disruption to the patient and the least amount of risk. Until the at-risk appendix is taken out, he is never truly safe.

In the chronic form of the disease though the patient is never desperately ill he is never quite well. He has pains and discomfort in the abdomen, with slight tenderness and nausea, with “indigestion,” as he may call it. And as one can never tell when the smouldering inflammation may break out into conflagration, he is well advised to submit himself to operation without further delay. To carry about a diseased appendix is to run the constant risk of being laid up at a time most inconvenient, as when travelling or when staying in some place where skilled assistance is far distant or absolutely unobtainable. But having made up his mind that the appendix had better be removed, the patient can choose time, place and surgeon, and, having undergone a week’s careful training for the ordeal, can safely count on being back at work again in a month or six weeks’ time.

In the chronic form of the disease, although the patient is never severely ill, they are also never entirely well. They experience pain and discomfort in the abdomen, along with mild tenderness and nausea, which they might refer to as "indigestion." Since it’s impossible to predict when the lingering inflammation could flare up, it's wise for them to consider surgery without delay. Carrying around a diseased appendix poses a constant risk of becoming incapacitated at an inconvenient time, such as when traveling or in a location where access to skilled help is limited or unavailable. Once the patient decides that the appendix should be removed, they can choose the timing, location, and surgeon. After undergoing a week of careful preparation for the procedure, they can expect to return to work in about a month or six weeks.

As regards treatment, the greatest safety consists in the prompt removal of the inflamed appendix, and statistics show that if the operation can be done in the first or second day of even an acute attack, the result is generally favourable—that is to say, if the appendix can be removed whilst the disease is still shut up within its tissues. But in some cases ulceration and perforation, or mortification, may have taken place over a hard faecal concretion within the first twenty-four or forty-eight hours, and, the septic germs having been let loose, peritonitis may have already set in, and operation may be followed by disappointment. Still, if the case had been left unoperated on, no other result could have been expected. It was not to the operation, but to the intensely acute disease that the calamity must be attributed.

As for treatment, the best way to ensure safety is to quickly remove the inflamed appendix, and statistics indicate that if the surgery can be performed within the first or second day of an acute attack, the outcome is usually positive—that is, if the appendix can be taken out while the disease is still contained within it. However, in some instances, ulceration, perforation, or tissue death may have occurred due to a hard fecal blockage within the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours, and if septic germs have been released, peritonitis may have already developed, leading to disappointing surgical outcomes. Still, if the condition had not been operated on, a different result wouldn't have been expected. The complications should not be blamed on the surgery, but rather on the severe nature of the disease.

Nature is marvellously clever in some of these cases in shutting off the area of the disease by glueing together the neighbouring coils of intestine, the limited local peritonitis causing the tissues to build themselves into a wall which securely shuts in the abscess cavity. But in other cases she seems helpless, no barrier being formed for limiting the area of disturbance. In such a case it is inevitable that disappointment must result from the surgeon delaying operation in the hope that delimitation might take place. And when at last he makes his incision he sees that the disease has had so long a start that his own chance of success is but a poor one. In a less severe attack, under the influence of rest, starvation and fomentation, and in cases of chronic and of relapsing disease, the surgeon may watch and wait and choose his own time for operating. But when the symptoms are steadily increasing in severity he should urge an immediate incision. When, as often happens, the inflammation begins suddenly and severely, and, under the influence of treatment, steadily quiets down, the surgeon does well to delay operation. But in a fortnight or so, when everything has become once more quiet, he will urge the removal of the appendix, for this one attack is more than likely to be the forerunner of other attacks if the diseased appendix is left.

Nature has an amazing way of dealing with disease by sealing off the affected area, sometimes by sticking the neighboring loops of intestine together. This localized peritonitis can lead the tissues to create a barrier that contains the abscess. However, in other situations, nature seems to struggle, and no barrier forms to limit the disturbance. In these instances, it's frustrating when a surgeon waits too long for natural boundaries to appear, only to find that the disease has progressed, making success less likely. In less severe cases, where rest, fasting, and warmth can help, the surgeon might take a wait-and-see approach before deciding on surgery. But when symptoms are getting worse consistently, he should push for immediate surgery. When inflammation occurs suddenly and intensely but then calms down with treatment, it's reasonable for the surgeon to hold off on operating. However, after about two weeks, once things have stabilized, he should recommend removing the appendix, as this episode could very likely lead to further attacks if the diseased appendix remains.

The most serious cases are those in which the aspect, the pulse, and the temperature of the patient fail to give warning of a very advanced state of disease. Every surgeon of experience has met with cases in which, though there is nothing pointing to the fact that the patient is on the brink of a disaster, the operation has shown that the appendix is mortified, and that it is surrounded with abundant foul matter. It is then that he regrets not having operated a day or two earlier. Consequently it is a good rule to operate in all doubtful cases. In cases in which one happens to know that previous attacks have passed off under palliative treatment, there is no need for immediate operation; the quiet interval may be safely waited for. But in cases in which there is “no history,” and in which the surgeon has nothing to guide him, the greatest safety is in prompt operation.

The most serious cases are those where the patient's appearance, pulse, and temperature don't indicate a very advanced stage of illness. Every experienced surgeon has encountered situations where, despite no signs that the patient is close to disaster, the operation reveals that the appendix is dead and is surrounded by a lot of infected material. It's in these moments that they wish they had operated a day or two earlier. Therefore, it's a good rule to proceed with surgery in all uncertain cases. In situations where there is a history of previous attacks resolving with conservative treatment, there's no need for immediate surgery; it’s safe to wait for a quiet period. However, in cases with "no history," where the surgeon has no guidance, the safest option is to operate quickly.

If an attack of acute appendicitis is allowed to take its course unoperated on, abscess forms in the peritoneal cavity in the region of the appendix, but if already inflammation has happily glued the intestines together around that area, the pus is confined within definite limits. But as the abscess increases in size the demand for its evacuation becomes urgent. The pus, under the influence of a natural law, seeks its escape by the path of least resistance; sometimes this is into the intestine, and occasionally into the bladder. The most satisfactory course which it can take is through the wall of the abdomen and out above the right groin. As it is making its way in this direction the skin over that part becomes red, swollen, hot and tender, and the tissues between it and the skin become swollen and brawny. Rarely is fluctuation to be made out until the pus has worked its way close to the surface. Later, ulceration takes place in the undermined skin, and the stinking contents of the abscess escape, greatly to the relief of the patient. But long before this could happen the surgeon should have made an incision through the inflamed tissues in order to give nature some greatly needed help. For in many cases she allows the pus blindly to discover that the course of least resistance is not towards the surface of the abdomen but through the inflammatory barrier formed by the adherent coils of bowel, and so into the general peritoneal cavity. This unfortunate issue may give temporary relief to the patient, so that he says that he feels much better, and that his pain has nearly gone. But though his temperature may fall, his pulse is apt to quicken—an ominous coupling of symptoms; the paralysed bowels become further distended, so that the lungs are pressed upon and breathing is embarrassed; hiccough comes on; and whether operation is now resorted to or not, a fatal end is highly probable. In other cases, the escaping pus finds its way up towards the liver and forms an abscess below the base of the lungs.

If an attack of acute appendicitis is left untreated, an abscess will form in the peritoneal cavity near the appendix. However, if inflammation has already caused the intestines to stick together around that area, the pus is contained within specific limits. As the abscess grows, the need for it to be drained becomes urgent. The pus, following a natural tendency, tries to escape through the path of least resistance; sometimes this leads into the intestine, and occasionally into the bladder. The best outcome is for it to break through the abdominal wall and exit above the right groin. As it moves in that direction, the skin over that area becomes red, swollen, hot, and tender, while the tissues underneath grow swollen and firm. Rarely is fluctuation detected until the pus is very close to the surface. Eventually, the skin weakens and ulcerates, allowing the foul contents of the abscess to escape, bringing significant relief to the patient. However, long before this occurs, the surgeon should have made an incision through the inflamed tissues to assist the body. In many cases, the body lets the pus find a path not toward the surface of the abdomen but through the inflammatory barrier formed by the sticking bowel loops, leading into the general peritoneal cavity. This unfortunate result may provide temporary relief, making the patient feel much better and leading them to say their pain has nearly disappeared. But even if their temperature drops, their pulse is likely to speed up—this combination of symptoms is concerning; the paralyzed bowels become even more swollen, pressing on the lungs and causing breathing difficulties; hiccups may occur; and whether surgery is performed or not, a fatal outcome is highly likely. In other cases, the leaking pus can travel up toward the liver, forming an abscess below the base of the lungs.

If operation is performed when appendicitis has run on to the formation of abscess, and the diseased appendix presents itself, it should of course be removed; but if it does not present itself the surgeon should abstain from making a determined search for it, as in so doing he may break down the barrier which nature has provided, and thus himself become the means of spreading a septic peritonitis. Nor should he attempt to make clean the foul abscess cavity. All that he should do is to provide for efficient drainage. A large proportion of these cases do extremely well with incision and drainage, and in the subsequent healing of the cavity the wreckage of the appendix either undergoes disintegration or is rendered harmless for further anxiety.

If surgery is done when appendicitis has progressed to an abscess, and the inflamed appendix is visible, it should definitely be removed. However, if it’s not visible, the surgeon should avoid a thorough search for it, as this might disrupt the natural barriers that have formed and lead to septic peritonitis. The surgeon shouldn’t try to clean out the infected abscess cavity either. Instead, the priority should be to ensure effective drainage. Many of these cases do very well with just incision and drainage, and during the healing of the cavity, the remnants of the appendix either break down or become harmless, alleviating future concerns.

In some cases, however, the damaged appendix remains as a smouldering ember, ready at any moment to cause further conflagration. This is made manifest by lingering pains, and by tenderness and warnings after the abscess has healed, and the patient will be well advised to have what is left of the appendix removed by operation at a time of quiescence. The operation, however, may turn out to be a very difficult one. Sometimes the wound by which the abscess has been evacuated, by nature or by art, refuses to heal completely, a little discharge of a faecal odour continuing to escape. The small wound leads into a 220 faecal fistula, and a bent probe passed along it would probably find its way into the bowel. The wound is likely to close of itself in due course; but if after many weeks of disappointment it still continues to discharge, the surgeon may advise an operation for its obliteration.

In some cases, however, the damaged appendix remains like a smoldering ember, ready at any moment to cause more trouble. This becomes apparent through lingering pain and tenderness, along with signs after the abscess has healed. It's wise for the patient to have what's left of the appendix removed through surgery when things are calm. However, the surgery can be quite challenging. Sometimes, the wound where the abscess was drained, whether naturally or surgically, doesn't heal completely, and a little discharge with a fecal odor continues. The small wound can lead to a 220 fecal fistula, and inserting a bent probe into it would likely reach the bowel. The wound may eventually close on its own; but if it continues to drain after many weeks of frustration, the surgeon might recommend surgery to close it up.

It occasionally happens that after operation the scar of the wound in the abdominal wall yields under the pressure from within, and a bulging of the intestines beneath the skin occurs. This is called a ventral hernia, and if the patient cannot be made comfortable by wearing a truss with a large flat pad, an operation may be deemed advisable.

It sometimes happens that after surgery, the scar in the abdominal wall weakens under internal pressure, causing the intestines to bulge beneath the skin. This is known as a ventral hernia, and if the patient can't find relief by using a truss with a large flat pad, surgery might be considered necessary.

If, in a case of appendicitis, for one reason or another operation is to be delayed, what treatment should be resorted to? The patient should be put to bed with his knees resting over a pillow, and a large fomentation under oil silk should be laid over the lower part of the abdomen. No food should be given beyond an occasional sip of hot water. Purgatives should not be administered, as this would be to set in movement an inflamed piece of bowel. If the case is not acute, a large enema of soap and water with turpentine may be given, or, possibly, a dose of castor oil by the mouth. As a rule, however, it is unwise to set the bowels in vigorous action until the diseased appendix has been removed. No opium should be given.

If a person has appendicitis and for some reason the surgery needs to be postponed, what treatment should be used? The patient should lie in bed with their knees on a pillow, and a large hot compress covered with waterproof material should be placed on the lower abdomen. They should only have small sips of hot water and no food at all. Laxatives should not be given, as this could irritate the inflamed bowel. If the situation isn’t severe, a large enema with soap and water and turpentine can be administered, or possibly a dose of castor oil taken orally. Generally, though, it’s not a good idea to stimulate the bowels until the infected appendix has been removed. No opiates should be provided.

Acute intestinal obstruction, cancer of the intestine, inflammation of the ovary, typhoid fever and renal and gallstone colic, are affections which are apt to be mistaken for appendicitis. The first of these resembles it most closely, and diagnosis is sometimes impossible without resort to operation. And it is a fortunate thing that, when error of diagnosis has been made, the operation which was designed for dealing with an inflamed appendix may be directed with equal advantage to the morbid condition which is found on opening the abdomen. In typhoid fever the characteristic temperature, the general condition of the patient, and the presence of delirium are differentiating signs of importance; in renal and gallstone colic the situation and the more paroxysmal character of the pain are usually distinctive.

Acute intestinal blockage, intestinal cancer, ovarian inflammation, typhoid fever, and kidney or gallstone pain are conditions that can easily be confused with appendicitis. The first condition is the most similar, and sometimes it's impossible to make a diagnosis without surgery. Fortunately, if there's a misdiagnosis, the surgery intended for an inflamed appendix can also effectively address the problem found during the abdominal operation. In typhoid fever, the typical fever, the overall state of the patient, and the presence of delirium are key distinguishing signs; in kidney and gallstone pain, the location and the more episodic nature of the pain are typically distinctive.

(E. O.*)

APPENDICULATA, a zoological name introduced by E. Ray Lankester (preface to the English edition of C. Gegenbaur’s Comparative Anatomy), and employed by the same writer in the 9th edition of this encyclopaedia (article “Zoology”) to denote the eighth phylum, or major division, of coelomate animals. The animals thus associated, the Rotifera, Chaetopoda and Arthropoda, are composed of a larger or smaller number of hollow rings, each ring possessing typically a pair of hollow lateral appendages, moved by intrinsic muscles and penetrated by blood-spaces.

APPENDICULATA, is a zoological term introduced by E. Ray Lankester (in the preface to the English edition of C. Gegenbaur’s Comparative Anatomy), and it was used by Lankester in the 9th edition of this encyclopedia (in the article “Zoology”) to refer to the eighth phylum, or major division, of coelomate animals. The animals included in this category, such as Rotifera, Chaetopoda, and Arthropoda, consist of a varying number of hollow rings, with each ring typically having a pair of hollow lateral appendages that are moved by intrinsic muscles and contain blood-spaces.


APPENDINI, FRANCESCO MARIA (1768-1837), Italian historian and philologist, was born at Poirino, near Turin, on the 4th of November 1768. Educated at Rome, he took orders and was sent to Ragusa, where he was appointed professor of rhetoric. When the French seized Ragusa, Napoleon placed Appendini at the head of the Ragusan academy. After the Austrian occupation he was appointed principal of a college at Zara, where he died in 1837. Appendini’s chief work was his Notizie Istorico-critiche sulle Antichità, Storia, e Letteratura dei Ragusci (1802-1803).

APPENDINI, FRANCESCO MARIA (1768-1837), an Italian historian and philologist, was born in Poirino, near Turin, on November 4, 1768. He was educated in Rome, took holy orders, and was sent to Ragusa, where he became a professor of rhetoric. When the French took control of Ragusa, Napoleon appointed Appendini as the head of the Ragusan academy. After the Austrian occupation, he was made the principal of a college in Zara, where he passed away in 1837. Appendini's main work was his Notizie Istorico-critiche sulle Antichità, Storia, e Letteratura dei Ragusci (1802-1803).


APPENZELL, one of the cantons of north-east Switzerland, entirely surrounded by the canton of St Gall; both were formed out of the dominions of the prince abbots of St Gall, whence the name Appenzell (abbatis cello). It is an alpine region, particularly in its south portion, where rises the Alpstein limestone range (culminating in the Säntis, 8216 ft.), though towards the north the surface is composed rather of green hills, separating green hollows in which nestle neat villages and small towns. It is mainly watered by two streams that descend from the Säntis, the Urnasch joining the Sitter (on which is the capital, Appenzell), which later flows into the Thur. There are light railways from Appenzell to St Gall either (12½ m.) past Gais or (20½ m.) past Herisau, as well as lines from St Gall to Trogen (6 m.) and from Rorschach to Heiden (4¼ m.). Since 1597 it has been divided, for religious reasons, into two half-cantons, which are quite independent of each other, and differ in many points.

APPENZELL is one of the cantons in northeast Switzerland, completely surrounded by the canton of St Gall. Both were created from the territories of the prince abbots of St Gall, which is where the name Appenzell comes from (abbatis cello). This area is mountainous, especially in the southern part, where the Alpstein limestone range rises (peaking at Säntis, 8,216 ft.). To the north, the landscape features rolling green hills that separate valleys filled with tidy villages and small towns. The region is mostly drained by two streams that flow down from Säntis: the Urnasch, which joins the Sitter (where the capital, Appenzell, is located), and then the Sitter flows into the Thur. There are local railways running from Appenzell to St Gall either (12½ m.) via Gais or (20½ m.) via Herisau, along with connections from St Gall to Trogen (6 m.) and from Rorschach to Heiden (4¼ m.). Since 1597, it has been divided into two half-cantons for religious reasons, which operate independently and differ in many ways.

The north and west portion or Ausser Rhoden has a total area of 93.6 sq. m. (of which 90.6 are classed as “productive”; forests covering 22·5 sq. m. and glaciers .038 sq. m.), with a population (in 1900) of 55,281, mainly German-speaking, and containing 49,797 Protestants as against 5418 Romanists. Its political capital is Trogen (q.v.), though the largest town is Herisau (q.v.), while Teufen has 4595 inhabitants, and Heiden (3745 inhabitants) in the north-east corner is the most frequented of the many goats’ whey cure resorts for which the entire canton is famous (Urnäsch and Gais are also in Ausser Rhoden). This half-canton is divided into three administrative districts, comprising twenty communes, and is mainly industrial, the manufacture of cotton goods, muslins, and embroidery being very flourishing. It sends one member (elected by the Landsgemeinde) to the federal Ständerath and three to the federal Nationalrath (elected by a direct popular vote).

The northern and western part of Ausser Rhoden covers an area of 93.6 square miles (with 90.6 classified as “productive”; forests covering 22.5 square miles and glaciers 0.038 square miles), and had a population of 55,281 in 1900, mostly German-speaking, with 49,797 Protestants compared to 5,418 Catholics. Its political capital is Trogen (q.v.), although the largest town is Herisau (q.v.), while Teufen has 4,595 residents, and Heiden (3,745 residents) in the northeast corner is the most popular of the many goat whey treatment resorts for which the whole canton is well-known (Urnäsch and Gais are also part of Ausser Rhoden). This half-canton is divided into three administrative districts, consisting of twenty communes, and is primarily industrial, with the manufacturing of cotton goods, muslins, and embroidery thriving. It sends one representative (elected by the Landsgemeinde) to the federal Ständerath and three to the federal Nationalrath (elected by a direct popular vote).

The south or more mountainous portion of Appenzell forms the half-canton of Appenzell, Inner Rhoden. It has a total area of 66.7 sq. m. (of which 62.8 sq. m. are classed as “productive,” forests covering 12.8 sq. m. and glaciers .38 sq. m.), and a total population of 13,499, practically all German-speaking, and all but 833 Romanists. Its political capital is Appenzell (q.v.), which is also the largest village, while Weissbad (near it) and Gonten are the best-known goats’ whey cure resorts. Embroidery and muslins are made in this half-canton, though wholly at home by the work-people. But it is very largely pastoral, containing 168 mountain pastures or “alps,” maintaining each summer 4000 cows, and of an estimated capital value of 2,682,955 francs (the figures for Ausser Rhoden are respectively 100 alps, 2800 cows, and 1,749,900 francs). Inner Rhoden is extremely conservative, and has the reputation of always rejecting any federal Referendum. For similar reasons it has preserved many old customs and costumes, those of the women being very elaborate and picturesque, while the herdsmen have retained their festival attire of red waistcoats, embroidered braces and canary-coloured shorts. It sends one member (named by the Landsgemeinde) to the federal Ständerath, and one also to the federal Nationalrath, while it forms but a single administrative district, though divided into six communes.

The southern or more mountainous part of Appenzell makes up the half-canton of Appenzell, Inner Rhoden. It covers a total area of 66.7 square miles (of which 62.8 square miles are classified as “productive,” with forests covering 12.8 square miles and glaciers .38 square miles), and has a total population of 13,499, almost all of whom speak German, with only 833 being Roman Catholics. Its political capital is Appenzell (q.v.), which is also the largest village, while Weissbad (located nearby) and Gonten are the most well-known resorts for goat whey treatment. Embroidery and muslins are produced in this half-canton, though entirely crafted by local workers. However, it is mostly pastoral, featuring 168 mountain pastures or “alps,” which sustain about 4,000 cows each summer, with an estimated capital value of 2,682,955 francs (the figures for Ausser Rhoden are 100 alps, 2,800 cows, and 1,749,900 francs). Inner Rhoden is very conservative and is known for consistently rejecting any federal Referendum. For similar reasons, it has preserved many traditional customs and costumes, with the women's attire being quite elaborate and colorful, while the herdsmen continue to wear festive outfits consisting of red vests, embroidered suspenders, and bright yellow shorts. It sends one representative (appointed by the Landsgemeinde) to the federal Ständerath, and another to the federal Nationalrath, while it only has a single administrative district, which is divided into six communes.

To the outer world the canton of Appenzell is best known by its institution of Landsgemeinden, or primitive democratic assemblies held in the open air, in which every male citizen (not being disqualified) over twenty years of age must (under a money penalty) appear personally: each half-canton has such an assembly of its own, that of Inner Rhoden always meeting at Appenzell, and that of Ausser Rhoden in the odd years at Hundwil (near Herisau) and in the even years at Trogen. This institution is of immemorial antiquity, and the meetings in either case are always held on the last Sunday in April. The Landsgemeinde is the supreme legislative authority, and elects both the executive (in Inner Rhoden composed of nine members and called Ständeskommission, and in Ausser Rhoden of seven members and called Regierungsrath) and the president or Landammann; in each half-canton there is also a sort of standing committee (composed of the members of the executive and representatives from the communes—in Inner Rhoden one member per 250 or fraction over 125 of the population, and in Ausser Rhoden one member per 1000 of the inhabitants) which prepares business for the Landsgemeinde and decides minor matters; in Inner Rhoden it is named the Grossrath and in Ausser Rhoden the Kantonsrath. As various old-fashioned ceremonies are observed at the meetings and the members each appear with his girded sword, the sight of a meeting of the Landsgemeinde is most striking and interesting. The existing constitution of Inner Rhoden dates mainly from 1872, and that of Ausser Rhoden from 1876.

To the outside world, the canton of Appenzell is mainly recognized for its institution of Landsgemeinden, or traditional democratic assemblies held outdoors, where every male citizen (who isn't disqualified) over the age of twenty must show up in person (or face a financial penalty). Each half-canton has its own assembly: Inner Rhoden always meets in Appenzell, while Ausser Rhoden meets in odd years at Hundwil (near Herisau) and in even years at Trogen. This institution has a very long history, with meetings taking place on the last Sunday in April each year. The Landsgemeinde acts as the top legislative authority, electing both the executive (which in Inner Rhoden has nine members and is called Ständeskommission, while in Ausser Rhoden it has seven members and is referred to as Regierungsrath) and the president, known as Landammann. Each half-canton also has a sort of standing committee made up of executive members and representatives from the communes (one member for every 250 or more than 125 people in Inner Rhoden, and one member for every 1000 residents in Ausser Rhoden) which prepares matters for the Landsgemeinde and handles smaller issues; this committee is called Grossrath in Inner Rhoden and Kantonsrath in Ausser Rhoden. The meetings include various traditional ceremonies, and attendees arrive with their swords, making the Landsgemeinde gatherings quite striking and fascinating. The current constitution of Inner Rhoden mostly dates back to 1872, while Ausser Rhoden's constitution is from 1876.

By the middle of the 11th century the abbots of St Gall had established their power in the land later called Appenzell, which, too, became thoroughly teutonized, its early inhabitants having probably been romanized Raetians. But as early as 1377, this portion of the abbots’ domains formed an alliance with the Swabian free imperial cities and adopted a constitution of its own. The repeated attempts of the abbots to put down this 221 independence of their rule were defeated in the battles of Vögelinsegg (1403), north-west of Trogen, and of the Stoss (1405), the pass leading from Gais over to Altstätten in the Rhine valley. In 1411 Appenzell was placed under the “protection” of the Swiss Confederation, of which, in 1452, it became an “allied member,” and in 1513 a full member. Religious differences broke up the land after the Reformation into two portions, each called Rhoden, a term that in the singular is said to mean a “clearing,” and occurs in 1070, long before the final separation. From 1798 to 1803 Appenzell, with the other domains of the abbot of St Gall, was formed into the canton Säntis of the Helvetic Republic, but in 1803, on the creation of the new canton of St Gall, shrank back within its former boundaries. The oldest codes of the laws and customs of the land date from 1409 and 1585, the original MS. of the latter (called the “Silver Book” from its silver clasps) being still used in Inner Rhoden when, at the close of the annual Landsgemeinde, the newly elected Landammann first takes the oath of office, and the assembled members then take that of obedience to him, in either case with uplifted right hands.

By the middle of the 11th century, the abbots of St. Gall had established their power in the area later known as Appenzell, which also became thoroughly Germanized, its early inhabitants likely having been Romanized Raetians. As early as 1377, this part of the abbots’ lands formed an alliance with the Swabian free imperial cities and created its own constitution. The abbots' repeated attempts to suppress this independence were defeated in the battles of Vögelinsegg (1403), just northwest of Trogen, and of Stoss (1405), the pass leading from Gais to Altstätten in the Rhine valley. In 1411, Appenzell was placed under the “protection” of the Swiss Confederation, of which it became an “allied member” in 1452, and a full member in 1513. Religious differences divided the region after the Reformation into two parts, each called Rhoden, a term that means "clearing" in the singular and was used as early as 1070, long before the final separation. From 1798 to 1803, Appenzell, along with the other lands of the abbots of St. Gall, was part of the canton Säntis of the Helvetic Republic, but in 1803, with the creation of the new canton of St. Gall, it returned to its previous boundaries. The oldest codes of laws and customs of the land date back to 1409 and 1585, with the original manuscript of the latter (called the “Silver Book” for its silver clasps) still being used in Inner Rhoden when, at the end of the annual Landsgemeinde, the newly elected Landammann first takes the oath of office, and the assembled members then take an oath of obedience to him, in both cases with their right hands raised.

See also Appenzellische Jahrbücher (3 series from 1854, Trogen); G. Baumberger, “Juhu-Juuhu”—Appenzellerland und Appenzellerleut (Einsiedeln, 1903); J.G. Ebel, Schilderung d. Gebirgsvolker d. Schweiz, vol. i. (Leipzig, 1798); W. Kobelt, Die Alpwirthschaft im Kant. App. Inner Rhoden (Soleure, 1899); I.B. Richman, Appenzell (London, 1895); H. Ryffel, Die schweiz. Landsgemeinden (Zürich, 1903); J.J. Tobler and A. Strüby, Die Alpwirthschaft im Kant. App. Ausser Rhoden (Soleure, 1900); J.C. Zellweger, Geschichte d. app. Volkes (to 1597), 6 vols in 11 parts (Trogen, 1830-1838); J.C. Zellweger, junior, Der Kant. App.. (Trogen, 1867); A. Tobler, Das Volkslied im Appenzellerland (Basel, 1906); J.J. Blumer, Staats- und Rechtsgeschichte d. schweiz. Demokratien (3 vols. St Gall, 1850-1859).

See also Appenzellische Jahrbücher (3 series from 1854, Trogen); G. Baumberger, “Juhu-Juuhu”—Appenzellerland und Appenzellerleut (Einsiedeln, 1903); J.G. Ebel, Schilderung d. Gebirgsvolker d. Schweiz, vol. i. (Leipzig, 1798); W. Kobelt, Die Alpwirthschaft im Kant. App. Inner Rhoden (Soleure, 1899); I.B. Richman, Appenzell (London, 1895); H. Ryffel, Die schweiz. Landsgemeinden (Zürich, 1903); J.J. Tobler and A. Strüby, Die Alpwirthschaft im Kant. App. Ausser Rhoden (Soleure, 1900); J.C. Zellweger, Geschichte d. app. Volkes (to 1597), 6 vols in 11 parts (Trogen, 1830-1838); J.C. Zellweger, junior, Der Kant. App. (Trogen, 1867); A. Tobler, Das Volkslied im Appenzellerland (Basel, 1906); J.J. Blumer, Staats- und Rechtsgeschichte d. schweiz. Demokratien (3 vols. St Gall, 1850-1859).

(W. A. B. C.)

APPENZELL, the political capital of the Inner Rhoden half of the Swiss canton of Appenzell. It is built in a smiling green hollow on the left bank of the Sitter stream, which is formed by the union of several mountain torrents descending from the Säntis. By light railways it is 12½ m. from St Gall past Gais or 20½ m. past Herisau. Its chief streets are paved, but it is rather a large village than a town, though in 1900 it had 4574 inhabitants, practically all German-speaking and Romanists. It has a stately modern parish church (attached to a Gothic choir), a small but very ancient chapel of the abbots of St Gall (whose summer residence was this village), and two Capuchin convents (one for men, founded in 1588, and one for women, founded in 1613). Among the archives, kept in the sacristy of the church, are several banners captured by the Appenzellers in former days, among them one taken in 1406 at Imst, near Lanedeck, with the inscription Hundert Teufel, though popularly this number is multiplied a thousandfold. In the principal square the Landsgemeinde (or cantonal democratic assembly) is held annually in the open air on the last Sunday in April. The inhabitants are largely employed in the production of embroidery, though also engaged in various pastoral occupations. About 2½ m. by road south-east of Appenzell is Weissbad, a well-known goat’s whey cure establishment, while 1½ hours above it is the quaint little chapel of Wildkirchli, built (1648) in a rock cavern, on the way to the Säntis.

APPENZELL is the political capital of the Inner Rhoden part of the Swiss canton of Appenzell. It's located in a green valley on the left bank of the Sitter stream, which is formed by several mountain torrents flowing down from the Säntis. By light rail, it is 12½ miles from St. Gall via Gais or 20½ miles via Herisau. Its main streets are paved, but it feels more like a large village than a town, although in 1900 it had 4,574 residents, almost all of whom were German-speaking and Roman Catholic. There is a grand modern parish church (which is attached to a Gothic choir), a small but very old chapel used by the abbots of St. Gall (whose summer residence was in this village), and two Capuchin convents (one for men, founded in 1588, and one for women, founded in 1613). Among the archives kept in the church sacristy are several banners captured by the Appenzellers in the past, including one taken in 1406 at Imst, near Lanedeck, with the inscription Hundert Teufel, although it's popularly said that this number is exaggerated a thousand times over. In the main square, the Landsgemeinde (or cantonal democratic assembly) takes place annually outdoors on the last Sunday in April. The locals mainly work in the production of embroidery but are also involved in various pastoral activities. About 2½ miles by road southeast of Appenzell is Weissbad, a well-known goat's whey health resort, while 1½ hours above it is the charming little chapel of Wildkirchli, built in a rock cavern in 1648, on the way to the Säntis.

(W. A. B. C.)

APPERCEPTION (Lat. ad and percipere, perceive), in psychology, a term used to describe the presentation of an object on which attention is fixed, in relation to the sum of consciousness previous to the presentation and the mind as a whole. The word was first used by Leibnitz, practically in the sense of the modern Attention (q.v.), by which an object is apprehended as “not-self” and yet in relation to the self. In Kantian terminology apperception is (1) transcendental—the perception of an object as involving the consciousness of the pure self as subject, and (2) empirical,—the cognition of the self in its concrete existence. In (1) apperception is almost equivalent to self-consciousness; the existence of the ego may be more or less prominent, but it is always involved. According to J.F. Herbart (q.v.) apperception is that process by which an aggregate or “mass” of presentations becomes systematized (apperceptions-system) by the accretion of new elements, either sense-given or product of the inner workings of the mind. He thus emphasizes in apperception the connexion with the self as resulting from the sum of antecedent experience. Hence in education the teacher should fully acquaint himself with the mental development of the pupil, in order that he may make full use of what the pupil already knows.

APPERCEPTION (Lat. ad and percipere, perceive), in psychology, refers to how we focus on an object while relating it to all the conscious experiences we had before and our mind as a whole. The term was first introduced by Leibnitz, essentially aligning with the modern idea of Attention (q.v.), where we recognize something as “not-self” while still relating it to ourselves. In Kantian terms, apperception is (1) transcendental—seeing an object while being aware of our pure self as the subject, and (2) empirical—understanding ourselves in our concrete existence. In (1), apperception is nearly synonymous with self-awareness; the ego's existence might be more or less obvious, but it is always present. According to J.F. Herbart (q.v.), apperception is the process by which a collection of experiences becomes organized (apperceptions-system) through the addition of new elements, whether they come from sensory experience or are products of the mind's internal processes. This highlights how apperception connects with the self as shaped by past experiences. Therefore, in education, teachers should thoroughly understand their students' mental development so they can effectively build on what the students already know.

Apperception is thus a general term for all mental processes in which a presentation is brought into connexion with an already existent and systematized mental conception, and thereby is classified, explained or, in a word, understood; e.g. a new scientific phenomenon is explained in the light of phenomena already analysed and classified. The whole intelligent life of man is, consciously or unconsciously, a process of apperception, inasmuch as every act of attention involves the appercipient process.

Apperception is a general term for all mental processes where a presentation is connected to an already existing and organized mental concept, allowing it to be classified, explained, or simply understood; e.g. a new scientific phenomenon is explained based on previously analyzed and classified phenomena. The entire intelligent life of humans, whether consciously or unconsciously, is a process of apperception, since every act of attention involves the appercipient process.

See Karl Lange, Ueber Apperception (6th ed. revised, Leipzig, 1899; trans. E.E. Brown, Boston, 1893); G.F. Stout, Analytic Psychology (London, 1896), bk. ii. ch. viii., and in general text-books of psychology; also Psychology.

See Karl Lange, On Apperception (6th ed. revised, Leipzig, 1899; trans. E.E. Brown, Boston, 1893); G.F. Stout, Analytic Psychology (London, 1896), bk. ii. ch. viii., and in general psychology textbooks; also Psychology.


APPERLEY, CHARLES JAMES (1777-1843), English sportsman and sporting writer, better known as “Nimrod,” the pseudonym under which he published his works on the chase and the turf, was born at Plasgronow, near Wrexham, in Denbighshire, in 1777. Between the years 1805 and 1820 he devoted himself to fox-hunting. About 1821 he began to contribute to the Sporting Magazine, under the pseudonym of “Nimrod,” a series of racy articles, which helped to double the circulation of the magazine in a year or two. The proprietor, Mr Pittman, kept for “Nimrod” a stud of hunters, and defrayed all expenses of his tours, besides giving him a handsome salary. The death of Mr Pittman, however, led to a law-suit with the proprietors of the magazine for money advanced, and Apperley, to avoid imprisonment, had to take up his residence near Calais (1830), where he supported himself by his writings. He died in London on the 19th of May 1843. The most important of his works are: Remarks on the Condition of Hunters, the Choice of Horses, &c. (1831); The Chase, the Turf, and the Road (originally written for the Quarterly Review), (1837); Memoirs of the Life of the Late John Mytton (1837); Nimrod’s Northern Tour (1838); Nimrod Abroad (1842); The Horse and the Hound (a reprint from the seventh edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica) (1842); Hunting Reminiscences (1843).

APPERLEY, CHARLES JAMES (1777-1843) was an English sportsman and sporting writer, best known by his nickname “Nimrod,” which he used to publish his works on hunting and horse racing. He was born at Plasgronow, near Wrexham, in Denbighshire, in 1777. From 1805 to 1820, he dedicated himself to fox-hunting. Around 1821, he started contributing to the Sporting Magazine under the name “Nimrod,” writing a series of engaging articles that helped double the magazine's circulation in just a couple of years. The magazine's owner, Mr. Pittman, provided “Nimrod” with a stable of hunters, covered all his travel expenses, and paid him a generous salary. However, after Mr. Pittman's death, a lawsuit arose with the magazine's owners over money owed, and to avoid imprisonment, Apperley had to move near Calais (1830), where he made a living from his writing. He passed away in London on May 19, 1843. Some of his most significant works include: Remarks on the Condition of Hunters, the Choice of Horses, & c. (1831); The Chase, the Turf, and the Road (initially for the Quarterly Review) (1837); Memoirs of the Life of the Late John Mytton (1837); Nimrod’s Northern Tour (1838); Nimrod Abroad (1842); The Horse and the Hound (a reprint from the seventh edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica) (1842); Hunting Reminiscences (1843).


APPERT, BENJAMIN NICOLAS MARIE (1797-1847), French philanthropist, was born in Paris on the 10th of September 1797. While a young man he introduced a system of mutual instruction into the regimental schools of the department of the Nord. The success which it obtained induced him to publish a Manual setting forth his system. While engaged in teaching prisoners at Montaigu, he fell under the suspicion of having connived at the escape of two of them, and was thrown into the prison of La Force. On his release he resolved to devote the rest of his life to bettering the condition of those whose lot he had for a time shared, and he travelled much over Europe for the purpose of studying the various systems of prison discipline, and wrote several books on the subject. After the revolution of 1830 he became secretary to Queen Marie Amélie, and organized the measures taken for the relief of the needy. He was decorated with the Legion of Honour in 1833.

APPERT, BENJAMIN NICOLAS MARIE (1797-1847), a French philanthropist, was born in Paris on September 10, 1797. As a young man, he introduced a mutual instruction system in the regimental schools of the Nord department. The success of this initiative led him to publish a Manual outlining his system. While teaching prisoners at Montaigu, he was suspected of helping two inmates escape and was imprisoned at La Force. After his release, he decided to dedicate the rest of his life to improving the situation for those he had once shared experiences with, traveling extensively across Europe to study different prison discipline systems and writing several books on the topic. Following the 1830 revolution, he became secretary to Queen Marie Amélie and organized relief efforts for the needy. He was awarded the Legion of Honour in 1833.

His brother, François Appert (d. 1840), was the inventor of the method of preserving food by enclosing it in hermetically sealed tins; he left a work entitled Art de conserver les substances animales et végétables.

His brother, François Appert (d. 1840), was the inventor of the method of preserving food by sealing it in airtight tins; he wrote a book called Art de conserver les substances animales et végétables.


APPIAN (Gr. Άππιανός), of Alexandria, Roman historian, flourished during the reigns of Trajan, Hadrian and Antoninus Pius. He tells us that, after having filled the chief offices in his native place, he repaired to Rome, where he practised as an advocate. When advanced in years, he obtained, by the good offices of his friend Fronto, the dignity of imperial procurator— it is supposed in Egypt. His work (Ῥωμαικά) in twenty-four books, written in Greek, is rather a number of monographs than a connected history. It gives an account of various peoples and countries from the earliest times down to their incorporation 222 into the Roman empire. Besides a preface, there are extant eleven complete books and considerable fragments. In spite of its unattractive style, the work is very valuable, especially for the period of the civil wars.

APPIAN (Gr. Άππιανός), from Alexandria, was a Roman historian who thrived during the reigns of Trajan, Hadrian, and Antoninus Pius. He tells us that after holding major positions in his hometown, he moved to Rome, where he worked as a lawyer. As he got older, he received the title of imperial procurator—likely in Egypt—thanks to his friend Fronto. His work (Roman), written in Greek and consisting of twenty-four books, resembles a collection of essays more than a unified history. It details various peoples and places from the earliest times up to their integration into the Roman Empire. In addition to a preface, there are eleven complete books and significant fragments available. Despite its unappealing style, the work is highly valuable, particularly for the period of the civil wars. 222

Editio princeps, 1551; Schweighäuser, 1785; Bekker, 1852; Mendelssohn, 1878-1905. English translations: by W. B., 1578 (black letter); J. D[avies], 1679; H. White, 1899 (Bohn’s Classical Library); bk. i. ed. by J.L. Strachan-Davidson, 1902.

Editio princeps, 1551; Schweighäuser, 1785; Bekker, 1852; Mendelssohn, 1878-1905. English translations: by W. B., 1578 (black letter); J. D[avies], 1679; H. White, 1899 (Bohn’s Classical Library); bk. i. edited by J.L. Strachan-Davidson, 1902.


APPIANI, ANDREA (1754-1817), the best fresco painter of his age, was born at Milan. He was made pensioned artist to the kingdom of Italy by Napoleon, but lost his allowance after the events of 1814 and fell into poverty. Correggio was his model, and his best pieces, which are in the church of Santa Maria presso San Celso and the royal palace at Milan, almost rival those of his great master. He also painted Napoleon and the chief personages of his court. Among the most graceful of his oil-paintings are his “Venus and Love,” and “Rinaldo in the Garden of Armida.” He is known as “the elder,” to distinguish him from his great-nephew Andrea Appiani (1817-1865), an historical painter at Rome. Other painters of the same name were Niccolo Appiani (fl. 1510) and Francesco Appiani (1704-1792).

APPIANI, ANDREA (1754-1817), the top fresco artist of his time, was born in Milan. He was appointed as a pensioned artist for the kingdom of Italy by Napoleon, but he lost his stipend after the events of 1814 and fell into financial hardship. Correggio was his inspiration, and his best works, which can be found in the church of Santa Maria presso San Celso and the royal palace in Milan, nearly match those of his renowned mentor. He also painted portraits of Napoleon and the main figures of his court. Among his most elegant oil paintings are “Venus and Love” and “Rinaldo in the Garden of Armida.” He is referred to as “the elder” to differentiate him from his great-nephew Andrea Appiani (1817-1865), a historical painter based in Rome. Other artists with the same name include Niccolo Appiani (fl. 1510) and Francesco Appiani (1704-1792).


APPIA, VIA, a high-road leading from Rome to Campania and lower Italy, constructed in 312 B.C. by the censor Appius Claudius Caecus. It originally ran only as far as Capua, but was successively prolonged to Beneventum, Venusia, Tarentum and Brundusium, though at what dates is unknown. Probably it was extended as far as Beneventum not long after the colonization of this town in 268 B.C., and it seems to have reached Venusia before 190 B.C. Horace, in the journey to Brundusium described in Sat. i. 5, followed the Via Appia as far as Beneventum, but not beyond.

APPIA, VIA a major road connecting Rome to Campania and southern Italy, was built in 312 BCE by the censor Appius Claudius Caecus. Initially, it extended only to Capua, but it was later extended to Beneventum, Venusia, Tarentum, and Brundusium, although the specific dates of these extensions are unknown. It likely reached Beneventum shortly after the town was colonized in 268 BCE, and it appears to have reached Venusia before 190 BCE Horace, in his journey to Brundusium described in Sat. i. 5, traveled along the Via Appia as far as Beneventum, but not further.

The original road was no doubt only gravelled (glarea strata); in 298 B.C. a footpath was laid saxo quadrato from the Porta Capena, by which it left Rome, to the temple of Mars, about 1 m. from the gate. Three years later, however, the whole road was paved with silex from the temple to Bovillae, and in 191 B.C. the first mile from the gate to the temple was similarly treated. The distance from Rome to Capua was 132 m. For the first few miles the road is flanked by an uninterrupted series of tombs and other buildings (see L. Canina, Via Appia, Rome, 1853). As far as Terracina it ran in an almost entirely straight line, even through the Alban Hills, where the gradients are steep. A remarkably fine embankment belonging to it still exists at Aricia. At Forum Appii it entered the Pomptine Marshes; that this portion (19 m. long, hence called Decennovium) belonged to the original road was proved by the discovery at Ad Medias (Mesa) of a milestone of about 250 B.C. (Ch. Hülsen, in Römische Mitteilungen, 1889, 83; 1895, 301). A still older road ran along the foot of the Volscian mountains past Cora, Norba and Setia; this served as the post road until the end of the 18th century. At the time of Strabo and Horace, however, it was the practice to travel by canal from Forum Appii to Lucus Feroniae; to Nerva and Trajan were due the paving of the road and the repair of the bridges along this section. Theodoric in A.D. 486 ordered the execution of similar repairs, the success of which is recorded in inscriptions, but in the middle ages it was abandoned and impassable, and was only renewed by Pius VI. The older road crossed the back of the promontory at the foot of which Terracina stands; in imperial times, probably, the rock was cut away perpendicularly for a height of 120 ft. to allow the road to pass. Beyond Fundi it passed through the mountains to Formiae, the engineering of the road being noteworthy; and thence by Minturnae and Sinuessa (towns of the Aurunci which had been conquered in 314 B.C.)1 to Capua. The remains of the road in this first portion are particularly striking.

The original road was likely just gravel (glarea strata); in 298 BCE, a footpath was constructed saxo quadrato from the Porta Capena, the exit point from Rome, to the temple of Mars, around 1 mile from the gate. However, three years later, the entire road was paved with silex from the temple to Bovillae, and in 191 BCE, the first mile from the gate to the temple was also paved. The distance from Rome to Capua was 132 miles. For the first few miles, the road was lined with a continuous series of tombs and other structures (see L. Canina, Via Appia, Rome, 1853). It ran almost completely straight up to Terracina, even through the Alban Hills, where the slopes are steep. A particularly impressive embankment from the road still exists at Aricia. At Forum Appii, it entered the Pomptine Marshes; the fact that this part (19 miles long, nicknamed Decennovium) was part of the original road was confirmed by the discovery of a milestone from about 250 BCE at Ad Medias (Mesa) (Ch. Hülsen, in Römische Mitteilungen, 1889, 83; 1895, 301). An even older road ran along the base of the Volscian mountains past Cora, Norba, and Setia; this route served as the postal road until the late 18th century. However, during the time of Strabo and Horace, it was common to travel by canal from Forum Appii to Lucus Feroniae; paving of the road and repairs to the bridges along this section were thanks to Nerva and Trajan. Theodoric, in CE 486, ordered similar repairs, which are noted in inscriptions, but during the Middle Ages, it fell into disrepair and became impassable, only to be restored by Pius VI. The older road crossed the back of the promontory where Terracina is situated; probably during imperial times, the rock was cut vertically to a height of 120 feet to allow the road to pass. Beyond Fundi, it ascended through the mountains to Formiae, the road's engineering being noteworthy; it then continued through Minturnae and Sinuessa (towns of the Aurunci conquered in 314 BCE)1 to Capua. The remains of the road in this initial section are particularly impressive.

Between Capua and Beneventum, a distance of 32 m., the road passed near the defile of Caudium (see Caudine Forks). The modern highroad follows the ancient line, and remains of the latter, with the exception of three well-preserved bridges, which still serve for the modern highroad, are conspicuous by their absence. The portion of the road from Rome to Beneventum is described by Sir R. Colt Hoare, Classical Tour through Italy, 57 seq. (London, 1819). He was accompanied on his journey, made in 1789, by the artist Carlo Labruzzi, who executed a series of 226 drawings, the greater part of which have not been published; they are described by T. Ashby in Mélanges de l’École Française de Rome (1903), p. 375 seq., and Atti del Congresso Internazionale per le Scienze Storiche, vol. v. (Rome, 1904), p. 125 seq.

Between Capua and Beneventum, a distance of 32 miles, the road went near the defile of Caudium (see Caudine Forks). The modern highway follows the ancient path, and remnants of the old road, except for three well-preserved bridges that still serve the modern highway, are notably absent. Sir R. Colt Hoare describes the segment of the road from Rome to Beneventum in his book, Classical Tour through Italy, 57 seq. (London, 1819). He traveled in 1789 with the artist Carlo Labruzzi, who created a series of 226 drawings, most of which haven't been published; these are detailed by T. Ashby in Mélanges de l’École Française de Rome (1903), p. 375 seq., and Atti del Congresso Internazionale per le Scienze Storiche, vol. v. (Rome, 1904), p. 125 seq.

From Beneventum to Brundusium by the Via Appia, through Venusia and Tarentum, was 202 m. A shorter route, but more fitted for mule traffic, though Horace drove along part of it,2 ran by Aequum Tuticum, Aecae, Herdoniae, Canusium, Barium, and Gnatia (Strabo vi. 282); it was made into a main road by Trajan, and took the name Via Traiana. The original road, too, adopted in imperial times a more devious but easier route by Aeclanum instead of by Trevicum. This was restored by Hadrian for the 15 m. between Beneventum and Aeclanum. Under Diocletian and Maximian a road (the Via Herculia) was constructed from Aequum Tuticum to Pons Aufidi near Venusia, where it crossed the Via Appia and went on into Lucania, passing through Potentia and Grumentum, and joining the Via Popilia near Nerulum. Though it must have lost much of its importance through the construction of the Via Traiana, the last portion from Tarentum to Brundusium was restored by Constantine about A.D. 315.

From Beneventum to Brundusium along the Via Appia, through Venusia and Tarentum, was 202 miles. There was a shorter route that was better for mule traffic, although Horace traveled part of it, which ran through Aequum Tuticum, Aecae, Herdoniae, Canusium, Barium, and Gnatia (Strabo vi. 282); Trajan made it a main road, and it was called the Via Traiana. The original road also took a more winding but easier path through Aeclanum instead of Trevicum during imperial times. Hadrian restored the 15 miles between Beneventum and Aeclanum. Under Diocletian and Maximian, a new road (the Via Herculia) was built from Aequum Tuticum to Pons Aufidi near Venusia, where it crossed the Via Appia and continued into Lucania, passing through Potentia and Grumentum, eventually connecting with the Via Popilia near Nerulum. Although it likely lost much of its significance due to the construction of the Via Traiana, the last section from Tarentum to Brundusium was restored by Constantine around CE 315.

The Via Appia was the most famous of Roman roads; Statius, Silvae, ii. 2. 12, calls it longarum regina viarum. It was administered under the empire by a curator of praetorian rank, as were the other important roads of Italy. A large number of milestones and other inscriptions relating to its repair at various times are known. See Ch. Hülsen in Pauly-Wissowa, Realencyclopadie, ii. 238 seq. (Stuttgart, 1896).

The Via Appia was the most famous Roman road; Statius, Silvae, ii. 2. 12, calls it longarum regina viarum. Under the empire, it was managed by a curator of praetorian rank, just like other major roads in Italy. A significant number of milestones and other inscriptions related to its repairs over time are known. See Ch. Hülsen in Pauly-Wissowa, Realencyclopadie, ii. 238 seq. (Stuttgart, 1896).

(T. As.)

1 It is important to note how the Romans followed up every victory with a road.

1 It's important to note how the Romans built a road after every victory.

2 From Beneventum he followed the older line of the Via Appia to Trevicum; thence, leaving the main road at Aquilonia, he went to Ausculum (“quod versu dicere non est”), the mod. Ascoli Satriano, by a by-road, for the milestones which have been found there, though they probably belong to the Via Traiana, cannot be in their original position, but must have been transplanted thither (Th. Mommsen in Corp. Inscrip. Lat., ix. 1883, No. 6016)—and on to Herdoniae (why Mommsen says that he left Herdoniae on the left, op. cit. p. 592, is not clear), where he joined the line of the later Via Traiana.

2 From Beneventum, he took the older route of the Via Appia to Trevicum; then, leaving the main road at Aquilonia, he traveled to Ausculum (“which is not to be said in verse”), the modern Ascoli Satriano, via a side road, because the milestones found there, although they likely belonged to the Via Traiana, can't be in their original location and must have been moved there (Th. Mommsen in Corp. Inscrip. Lat., ix. 1883, No. 6016)—and continued on to Herdoniae (it's unclear why Mommsen states he left Herdoniae on the left, op. cit. p. 592), where he connected with the line of the later Via Traiana.


APPIN, a coast district of Argyllshire, Scotland, bounded W. by Loch Linnhe, S. by Loch Creran, E. by the districts of Benderloch and Lorne, and N. by Loch Leven. It lies north-east to south-west, and measures 14 m. in length by 7 m. in breadth. The scenery of the coast is extremely beautiful, and inland the country is rugged and mountainous. The principal hills are the double peaks of Ben Vair (3362 ft. and 3284 ft.) and Creag Ghorm (2372 ft.) in the north, and Fraochie (2883 ft.), Meall Ban (2148 ft.) and Ben Mhic na Ceisich (2093 ft.) near the right flank of Glen Creran. The chief streams are the Coe and Laroch, flowing into Loch Leven, the Duror and Salachan flowing into Loch Linnhe, and the lola and Creran flowing into Loch Creran. The leading industries comprise slate and granite quarries and lead mining. Ballachulish, Duror, Portnacroish, Appin and Port Appin are the principal villages. Ballachulish and Port Appin are ports of call for steamers, and the Caledonian railway company’s branch line from Connel Ferry to Ballachulish runs through the coast land and has stations at Creagan, Appin, Duror, Kentallen and Ballachulish Ferry. Appin was the country of a branch of the Stewarts.

APPIN, is a coastal area in Argyllshire, Scotland, bordered to the west by Loch Linnhe, to the south by Loch Creran, to the east by the regions of Benderloch and Lorne, and to the north by Loch Leven. It stretches from northeast to southwest, measuring 14 miles in length and 7 miles in width. The coastal scenery is incredibly beautiful, and inland, the landscape is rugged and mountainous. The main hills include the double peaks of Ben Vair (3362 ft. and 3284 ft.) and Creag Ghorm (2372 ft.) in the north, along with Fraochie (2883 ft.), Meall Ban (2148 ft.), and Ben Mhic na Ceisich (2093 ft.) near the right side of Glen Creran. The primary rivers are the Coe and Laroch, which flow into Loch Leven, and the Duror and Salachan flowing into Loch Linnhe, along with the lola and Creran flowing into Loch Creran. The main industries are slate and granite quarries, along with lead mining. The main villages are Ballachulish, Duror, Portnacroish, Appin, and Port Appin. Ballachulish and Port Appin serve as ports for steamers, and the Caledonian Railway's branch line from Connel Ferry to Ballachulish runs through the coastal area, with stations at Creagan, Appin, Duror, Kentallen, and Ballachulish Ferry. Appin was the home of a branch of the Stewarts.


APPLAUSE (Lat. applaudere, to strike upon, clap), primarily the expression of approval by clapping of hands, &c.; generally any expression of approval. The custom of applauding is doubtless as old and as widespread as humanity, and the variety of its forms is limited only by the capacity for devising means of making a noise. Among civilized nations, however, it has at various times been subject to certain conventions. Thus the Romans had a set ritual of applause for public performances, expressing degrees of approval: snapping the finger and thumb, clapping with the flat or hollow palm, waving the flap of the toga, 223 for which last the emperor Aurelian substituted a handkerchief (orarium), distributed to all Roman citizens (see Stole). In the theatre, at the close of the play, the chief actor called out “Valete et plaudite!”, and the audience, guided by an unofficial choregus, chaunted their applause antiphonally. This was often organized and paid for (Böttiger, Über das Applaudieren im Theater bei den Alten, Leipz., 1822). When Christianity became fashionable the customs of the theatre were transferred to the churches. Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. vii. 30) says that Paul of Samosata encouraged the congregation to applaud his preaching by waving linen cloths (ὀθόναις), and in the 4th and 5th centuries applause of the rhetoric of popular preachers had become an established custom. Though, however, applause may provide a healthy stimulus, its abuse has led to attempts at abolishing or restricting it even in theatres. The institution of the claque, people hired by performers to applaud them, has largely discredited the custom, and indiscriminate applause has been felt as an intolerable interruption to serious performances. The reverential spirit which abolished applause in church has tended to spread to the theatre and the concert-room, largely under the influence of the quasi-religious atmosphere of the Wagner performances at Baireuth. In Germany (e.g. the court theatres at Berlin) applause during the performance and “calling before the curtain” have been officially forbidden, but even in Germany this is felt to be in advance of public opinion. (See also Acclamation and Cheering.)

APPLAUSE (Lat. applaudere, to strike upon, clap), primarily the expression of approval by clapping hands, etc.; generally any expression of approval. The practice of applauding is surely as old and as universal as humanity itself, and the different ways of doing it are limited only by our ability to come up with ways to make noise. However, among civilized societies, it has at various times followed certain conventions. For instance, the Romans had a specific ritual of applause for public performances, showing different levels of approval: snapping the fingers, clapping with a flat or cupped hand, waving the edge of the toga, 223 which was later replaced by a handkerchief (orarium), handed out to all Roman citizens (see Stole). In the theater, at the end of the play, the lead actor would call out “Valete et plaudite!”, and the audience, led by an unofficial choregus, would chant their applause back and forth. This was often organized and financed (Böttiger, Über das Applaudieren im Theater bei den Alten, Leipz., 1822). When Christianity became popular, theater customs were transferred to churches. Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. vii. 30) notes that Paul of Samosata encouraged the congregation to applaud his preaching by waving linen cloths (ὀθόναις), and by the 4th and 5th centuries, applause for the speeches of popular preachers had become a common practice. While applause can give a healthy boost, its misuse has led to efforts to ban or limit it even in theaters. The practice of the claque, where people are hired by performers to applaud them, has significantly tarnished the tradition, and indiscriminate applause has been seen as an annoying disruption to serious performances. The sense of reverence that removed applause from churches has begun to spread to theaters and concert halls, largely influenced by the semi-religious atmosphere of Wagner’s performances at Baireuth. In Germany (e.g. the court theaters in Berlin), applause during performances and “calling before the curtain” have been officially banned, yet even in Germany, this is seen as being ahead of public sentiment. (See also Acclamation and Cheering.)


APPLE (a common Teut. word, A.S. aepl, aeppel, O.H.G. aphul, aphal, apfal, mod. Ger. Apfel), the fruit of Pyrus Malus, belonging to the sub-order Pomaceae, of the natural order Rosaceae. It is one of the most widely cultivated and best-known and appreciated of fruits belonging to temperate climates. In its wild state it is known as the crab-apple, and is found generally distributed throughout Europe and western Asia, growing in as high a latitude as Trondhjem in Norway. The crabs of Siberia belong to different species of Pyrus. The apple-tree as cultivated is a moderate-sized tree with spreading branches, ovate, acutely serrated or crenated leaves, and flowers in corymbs. The fruit is too well known to need any description of its external characteristics. The apple is successfully cultivated in higher latitudes than any other fruit tree, growing up to 65° N., but notwithstanding this, its blossoms are more susceptible of injury from frost than the flowers of the peach or apricot. It comes into flower much later than these trees, and so avoids the night frost which would be fatal to its fruit-bearing. The apples which are grown in northern regions are, however, small, hard, and crabbed, the best fruit being produced in hot summer climates, such as Canada and the United States. Besides in Europe and America, the fruit is now cultivated at the Cape of Good Hope, in northern India and China, and in Australia and New Zealand.

APPLE (a common Germanic word, A.S. aepl, aeppel, O.H.G. aphul, aphal, apfal, modern German Apfel), is the fruit of Pyrus Malus, part of the sub-order Pomaceae, within the natural order Rosaceae. It's one of the most widely grown and well-known fruits in temperate climates. In its wild form, it's called the crab-apple, commonly found throughout Europe and western Asia, and can grow as far north as Trondhjem in Norway. The crabs of Siberia belong to different species of Pyrus. The cultivated apple tree is a medium-sized tree with spreading branches, oval leaves that are sharply serrated or wavy, and flowers that bloom in clusters. The fruit is so familiar that it doesn’t need any detailed description of its appearance. Apples thrive in higher latitudes more than any other fruit tree, growing up to 65° N., but their blossoms are more vulnerable to frost than the flowers of peach or apricot trees. They bloom much later than these trees, which helps them avoid frost that could harm their fruit. However, apples grown in northern regions tend to be small, hard, and tart, with the best fruit coming from warmer summer climates, like Canada and the United States. Besides in Europe and America, apples are now also cultivated at the Cape of Good Hope, in northern India and China, as well as in Australia and New Zealand.

Apples have been cultivated in Great Britain probably since the period of the Roman occupation, but the names of many varieties indicate a French or Dutch origin of much later date. In 1688 Ray enumerated seventy-eight varieties in cultivation in the neighbourhood of London, and now it is calculated that about 2000 kinds can be distinguished. According to the purposes for which they are suitable, they can be classed as— 1st, dessert; 2nd, culinary; and 3rd, cider apples. The principal dessert apples are the Pippins (pepins, seedlings), of which there are numerous varieties. As culinary apples, besides Rennets and other dessert kinds, Codlins and Biffins are cultivated. In England, Herefordshire and Devonshire are famous for the cultivation of apples, and in these counties the manufacture of cider (q.v.) is an important industry. Cider is also extensively prepared in Normandy and in Holland. Verjuice is the fermented juice of crab apples.

Apples have likely been grown in Great Britain since the Roman occupation, but many variety names suggest they actually have French or Dutch origins from much later. In 1688, Ray listed seventy-eight varieties cultivated near London, and now it's estimated that around 2,000 kinds can be identified. Depending on their uses, apples can be categorized as—1st, dessert; 2nd, cooking; and 3rd, cider apples. The main dessert apples are Pippins (pepins, seedlings), of which there are many varieties. For cooking, besides Rennets and other dessert types, Codlins and Biffins are grown. In England, Herefordshire and Devonshire are well-known for apple cultivation, and in these counties, cider production (q.v.) is a significant industry. Cider is also widely made in Normandy and Holland. Verjuice is the fermented juice from crab apples.

A large trade in the importation of apples is carried on in Britain, imports coming chiefly from French, Belgian and Dutch growers, and from the United States and British North America. Dried and pressed apples are imported from France for stewing, under the name of Normandy Pippins, and similarly prepared fruits come also from America.

A significant trade in apple imports takes place in Britain, with most imports coming from French, Belgian, and Dutch growers, as well as from the United States and British North America. Dried and pressed apples are brought in from France for cooking, called Normandy Pippins, and similarly prepared fruits are also sourced from America.

The apple may be propagated by seeds to obtain stocks for grafting, and also for the production of new varieties. The established sorts are usually increased by grafting, the method called whip-grafting being preferred. The stocks should be at least as thick as the finger; and should be headed back to where the graft is to be fixed in January, unless the weather is frosty, but in any case before vegetation becomes active. The scions should be cut about the same time, and laid in firmly in a trench, in contact with the moist soil, until required.

The apple can be grown from seeds to create rootstocks for grafting and to produce new varieties. Established types are usually propagated through grafting, with whip-grafting being the preferred method. The rootstocks should be at least as thick as a finger and should be trimmed back to where the graft will be attached in January, unless it’s freezing outside, but definitely before growth starts. The scions should be cut around the same time and placed securely in a trench, in contact with the moist soil, until they're needed.

The tree will thrive in any good well-drained soil, the best being a good mellow calcareous loam, while the less iron there is in the subsoil the better. The addition of marl to soils that are not naturally calcareous very much improves them. The trees are liable to canker in undrained soils or those of a hot sandy nature. Where the soil is not naturally rich enough, it should be well manured, but not to the extent of encouraging over-luxuriance. It is better to apply manure in the form of a compost than to use it in a fresh state or unmixed.

The tree will do well in any good, well-drained soil, with the best being a nice, mellow calcareous loam, and the less iron in the subsoil, the better. Adding marl to soils that aren't naturally calcareous really improves them. The trees are prone to canker in undrained soils or in hot sandy soils. If the soil isn’t naturally rich enough, it should be well-manured, but not so much that it encourages excessive growth. It’s better to apply manure as compost rather than using it fresh or unmixed.

To form an orchard, standard trees should be planted at from 25 to 40 ft. between the rows, according to the fertility of the soil and other considerations. The trees should be selected with clean, straight, self-supporting stems, and the head should be shapely and symmetrical, with the main branches well balanced. In order to obtain such a stem, all the leaves on the first shoot from the graft or bud should be encouraged to grow, and in the second season the terminal bud should be allowed to develop a further leading shoot, while the lateral shoots should be allowed to grow, but so that they do not compete with the leader, on which the growth of leaves should be encouraged in order that they may give additional strength to the stem below them. The side shoots should be removed gradually, so that the diminution of foliage in this direction may not exceed the increase made by the new branches and shoots of the upper portion. Dwarf pyramids, which occupy less space than open dwarfs, if not allowed to grow tall, may be planted at from 10 to 12 ft. apart. Dwarf bush trees may be planted from 10 to 15 ft. apart, according to the variety and the soil. Dwarf bushes on the Paradise stock are both ornamental and useful in small gardens, the trees being always conveniently under control. These bush trees, which must be on the proper stock—the French Paradise—may be planted at first 6 ft. apart, with the same distance between the rows, the space being afterwards increased, if desired, to 12 ft. apart, by removing every alternate row.

To create an orchard, standard trees should be planted 25 to 40 feet apart between the rows, depending on soil fertility and other factors. The trees should have clean, straight, self-supporting trunks, and the canopy should be well-shaped and balanced, with the main branches evenly positioned. To achieve a strong trunk, all the leaves on the first shoot from the graft or bud should be encouraged to grow. In the second season, the terminal bud should be allowed to develop a leading shoot, while lateral shoots can grow but should not compete with the leader; leaves should be encouraged to grow on the leader to strengthen the trunk below. Side shoots should be gradually removed so that the reduction in foliage is balanced by the growth of new branches and shoots at the top. Dwarf pyramids, which take up less space than open dwarfs if kept short, can be planted 10 to 12 feet apart. Dwarf bush trees should be planted 10 to 15 feet apart, depending on the variety and soil. Dwarf bushes on the Paradise rootstock are both decorative and practical for small gardens, as they remain easy to manage. These bush trees, which must be on the appropriate stock—the French Paradise—can initially be planted 6 feet apart, with the same distance between rows. The spacing can later be increased to 12 feet apart by removing every other row, if desired.

“Cordons” are trees trained to a single shoot, the laterals of which are kept spurred. They are usually trained horizontally, at about 1½ ft. from the ground, and may consist of one stem or of two, the stems in the latter case being trained in opposite directions. In cold districts the finer sorts of apples may be grown against walls as upright or oblique cordons. From these cordon trees very fine fruit may often be obtained. The apple may also be grown as an espalier tree, a form which does not require much lateral space. The ordinary trained trees for espaliers and walls should be planted 20 ft. apart.

“Cordons” are trees that are shaped to have a single shoot, with the side branches kept short. They’re usually trained to grow horizontally, about 1½ ft. off the ground, and can either have one stem or two stems that grow in opposite directions. In colder areas, the better varieties of apples can be grown against walls as vertical or angled cordons. You can often get very good fruit from these cordon trees. Apples can also be grown as espalier trees, which don’t need much lateral space. Regular trained trees for espaliers and walls should be planted 20 ft. apart.

The fruit of the apple is produced on spurs which form on the branchlets of two years old and upwards, and continue fertile for a series of years. The principal pruning should be performed in summer, the young shoots if crowded being thinned out, and the superabundant laterals shortened by breaking them half through. The general winter pruning of the trees may take place any time from the beginning of November to the beginning of March, in open weather. The trees are rather subject to the attacks of the American blight, the white cottony substance found on the bark and developed by an insect (Eriosoma, mali), somewhat similar to the green-fly of the garden, but not a true aphis. It may be removed by scrubbing with a hard brush, by painting the affected spots with any bland oil, or by washing them with dilute paraffin and soft soap.

The apple fruit grows on spurs that form on branchlets that are two years old and older, and they remain productive for several years. Main pruning should happen in the summer, thinning out crowded young shoots and shortening excessive laterals by breaking them halfway. General winter pruning can be done anytime from early November to early March, as long as the weather is good. The trees are quite prone to the American blight, which is a white cottony substance on the bark caused by an insect (Eriosoma, mali), somewhat similar to garden aphids, but not a true aphid. You can remove it by scrubbing with a hard brush, painting the affected areas with a mild oil, or washing them with diluted paraffin and soft soap.

The apple-blossom weevil (Anthonomus pomorum), a small reddish-brown beetle, often causes serious damage to the flowers. The female bores and lays an egg in the unopened bud, and the maggot feeds on the stamens and pistil. The weevil hibernates in the crannies of the bark or in the soil at the base of the trees, 224 and bandages of tarred doth placed round the stem in spring will prevent the female from crawling up.

The apple-blossom weevil (Anthonomus pomorum), a small reddish-brown beetle, often causes significant damage to the flowers. The female bores into the unopened bud to lay her egg, and the maggot feeds on the stamens and pistil. The weevil hibernates in the crevices of the bark or in the soil at the base of the trees, 224 and wrapping tarred cloth around the stem in spring will stop the female from crawling up.

The codlin moth (Carpocapsa pomonana) lays its eggs in May in the calyx of the flowers. The young caterpillar, which is white with black head and neck, gnaws its way through the fruit, and pierces the rind. When nearly full grown it attacks the core, and the fruit soon drops. The insect emerges and spins its cocoon in a crack of the bark.

The codlin moth (Carpocapsa pomonana) lays its eggs in May inside the flower's calyx. The young caterpillar, which is white with a black head and neck, bores into the fruit and pierces the skin. Once it's nearly fully grown, it attacks the core, and the fruit soon falls off. The insect then emerges and spins its cocoon in a crack in the bark.

To check this disease the apples which fall before ripening should be promptly removed. A loosely made hay-band twisted round the stem about a foot from the ground is of use. The grubs will generally choose the bands in which to make their cocoon; at the end of the season the bands are collected and burned.

To combat this disease, you should quickly remove the apples that fall before they ripen. Wrapping a loose hay band around the stem about a foot off the ground can help. The grubs usually prefer to use these bands for making their cocoons; at the end of the season, you can gather the bands and burn them.

The following are a few of the most approved varieties of the apple tree, arranged in order of their ripening, with the months in which they are in use:—

The following are some of the most popular types of apple trees, listed in order of when they ripen, along with the months they are available:—

Dessert Apples.
White Juneating July
Early Red Margaret Aug.
Irish Peach Aug.
Devonshire Quarrenden Aug., Sept.
Duchess of Oldenburg Aug., Sept.
Red Astrachan Sept.
Kerry Pippin Sept., Oct.
Peasgood’s Nonesuch Sept.-Nov.
Sam Young Oct.-Dec.
King of the Pippins Oct.-Jan.
Cox’s Orange Pippin Oct.-Feb.
Court of Wick Oct.-Mar.
Blenheim Pippin Nov.-Feb.
Sykehouse Russet Nov.-Feb.
Fearn’s Pippin Nov.-Mar.
Mannington’s Pearmain Nov.-Mar.
Margil Nov.-Mar.
Ribston Pippin Nov.-Mar.
Golden Pippin Nov.-Jan.
Reinette de Canada Nov.-Apr.
Ashmead’s Kernel Nov.-Apr.
White Winter Calville (grown under glass) Dec.-Mar.
Braddick’s Nonpareil Dec.-Apr.
Court-pendû Plat Dec.-Apr.
Northern Spy Dec.-May
Cornish Gilliflower Dec.-May
Scarlet Nonpareil Jan.-Mar.
Cockle’s Pippin Jan.-Apr.
Lamb Abbey Pearmain Jan.-May
Old Nonpareil Jan.-May
Duke of Devonshire Feb.-May
Sturmer Pippin Feb.-June
Kitchen Apples.
Keswick Codlin Aug.-Sept.
Lord Suffield Aug.-Sept.
Manks Codlin Aug.-Oct.
Ecklinville Seedling Aug.-Nov.
Stirling Castle Aug.-Nov.
New Hawthornden Sept.-Oct.
Stone’s Seedling Sept.-Nov.
Emperor Alexander Sept.-Dec.
Waltham Abbey Seedling Sept.-Jan.
Cellini Oct., Nov.
Gravenstein Oct.-Dec.
Hawthornden Oct.-Dec.
Baumann’s Red Winter Reinette Nov.-Mar.
Mère de Ménage Oct.-Mar.
Beauty of Kent Oct.-Feb.
Yorkshire Greening Oct.-Feb.
Gloria Mundi Nov.-Jan.
Blenheim Pippin Nov.-Feb.
Tower of Glammis Nov.-Feb.
Warner’s King Nov.-Mar.
Alfriston Nov.-Apr.
Northern Greening Nov.-Apr.
Reinette de Canada Nov.-Apr.
Bess Pool Nov.-May
Winter Queening Nov.-May
Lane’s Prince Albert Oct.-May
Norfolk Beaufin Nov.-July

Apples for table use should have a sweet juicy pulp and rich aromatic flavour, while those suitable for cooking should possess the property of forming a uniform soft pulpy mass when boiled or baked. In their uncooked state they are not very digestible, but when cooked they form a very safe and useful food, exercising a gentle laxative influence.

Apples for eating fresh should be sweet and juicy with a strong aroma, while those meant for cooking should break down into a smooth, soft mixture when boiled or baked. Raw apples are hard to digest, but when cooked, they become a safe and beneficial food that has a mild laxative effect.

According to Hutchison their composition is as follows:—

According to Hutchison, their makeup is as follows:—

  Water. Proteid. Ether
Extract.
Carbo-
hydrate.
Ash. Cellu-
lose.
Acids.
Fresh 82.5 0.4 0.5 12.5 0.4 2.7 1.0
Dried 36.2 1.4 3.0 49.1 1.8 4.9 3.6

Many exotic fruits, having nothing in common with the apple; are known by that name, e.g. the Balsam apple, Momordica Balsamina; the custard apple (q.v.), Anona reticulata; the egg apple, Solanum esculentum; the rose apple, various species of Eugenia; the pineapple (q.v.), Ananas sativus; the star apple, Chrysophyllum Cainito; and the apples of Sodom, Solanum sodomeum.

Many exotic fruits, which have nothing in common with the apple, are known by that name, e.g. the Balsam apple, Momordica Balsamina; the custard apple (q.v.), Anona reticulata; the egg apple, Solanum esculentum; the rose apple, various species of Eugenia; the pineapple (q.v.), Ananas sativus; the star apple, Chrysophyllum Cainito; and the apples of Sodom, Solanum sodomeum.

(A. B. R.)

APPLEBY, a market town and municipal borough, and the county town of Westmorland, England, in the Appleby parliamentary division, 276 m. N.N.W. from London, on the Midland and a branch of the North Eastern railways. Pop. (1901) 1764. It is picturesquely placed in the valley of the Eden, which is richly wooded, and flanked on the north-east by spurs of Milburn Forest and Dufton and other fells, which rise up to 2600 ft. On a hill above the town stands the castle, retaining a fine Norman keep and surrounded by a double moat, now partly laid out as gardens. The remainder of the castle was rebuilt as a mansion in the 17th century. It was held for the royalists in the civil wars by Sir Philip Musgrave, and was the residence of Anne, countess of Pembroke, the last of the family of Clifford, which had great estates in this part of England. St Ann’s hospital for thirteen poor women (1654) was of her foundation. The grammar school (1453) was refounded by Queen Elizabeth. The modern incorporation dates from 1885, with a mayor, four aldermen and twelve councillors. Area, 1876 acres.

APPLEBY, is a market town and municipal borough, as well as the county town of Westmorland, England, located 276 miles N.N.W. from London, on the Midland and a branch of the North Eastern railways. Population (1901) was 1,764. It is beautifully situated in the Eden valley, which is lushly wooded and bordered to the northeast by parts of Milburn Forest and Dufton and other hills, which rise to 2,600 feet. Above the town, a hill hosts the castle, which features a prominent Norman keep and is surrounded by a double moat that has been partially developed into gardens. The rest of the castle was reconstructed as a mansion in the 17th century. It was held for the royalists during the civil wars by Sir Philip Musgrave and served as the residence of Anne, countess of Pembroke, the last of the Clifford family, which owned significant estates in this area of England. St Ann’s hospital for thirteen poor women (1654) was established by her. The grammar school (1453) was reestablished by Queen Elizabeth. The modern incorporation began in 1885, with a mayor, four aldermen, and twelve councillors. Area: 1,876 acres.

Appleby is not mentioned in any Saxon records, but after the Conquest it rose to importance as the head of the barony of Appleby which extended over the eastern portion of the present county of Westmorland. This barony formed part of the province of Carlisle granted by Henry I. to Ranulf Meschin, who erected the castle at Appleby and made it his place of residence. Appleby is a borough by prescription, and the old charter of incorporation, granted in the first year of James II., was very shortly abandoned. In 1292 we find the mayor and commonalty claiming the right to elect a coroner and to have tolls of markets and fairs. In 1685 the governing body comprised a mayor, aldermen, a town clerk, burgesses of the common council, a coroner and subordinate officers. An undated charter from Henry II. conceding to the burgesses the customs of York, Was confirmed in 1 John, 16 Henry III., 14 Edward I., and 5 Edward III. John granted the borough to the burgesses for a fee-farm rent. The impoverishment caused by the Scottish raids led to its seizure by Edward II. for arrears of payment, but Edward III. restored it on the same terms as before. Henry VIII. reduced the fee-farm rent from 20 marks to 2 marks, after an inquisition which found that Appleby was burnt by the Scots in 1388 and that part of it still lay in ruins. The town, however, never seems to have regained its prosperity, and 16th and 17th century writers speak of it as a poor and insignificant village. Appleby returned two members to parliament from 1295 until disfranchised by the Reform Act of 1832. The market and the St Lawrence fair are held by prescription. James I. granted an additional fair on the second Thursday in April. In the early 18th century Appleby was celebrated for the best corn-market in the country.

Appleby isn't mentioned in any Saxon records, but after the Conquest, it became significant as the head of the barony of Appleby, which covered the eastern part of what is now Westmorland. This barony was part of the province of Carlisle, which Henry I granted to Ranulf Meschin, who built the castle at Appleby and made it his residence. Appleby is a borough by tradition, and the original charter of incorporation, granted in the first year of James II, was quickly set aside. In 1292, the mayor and community claimed the right to elect a coroner and to collect tolls from markets and fairs. By 1685, the governing body included a mayor, aldermen, a town clerk, burgesses of the common council, a coroner, and other officers. An undated charter from Henry II granting the burgesses the rights of York was confirmed in 1 John, 16 Henry III, 14 Edward I, and 5 Edward III. John gave the borough to the burgesses for a fee-farm rent. The financial strain from the Scottish raids led to its takeover by Edward II for unpaid rent, but Edward III returned it under the same terms as before. Henry VIII reduced the fee-farm rent from 20 marks to 2 marks after an investigation revealed that Appleby was burned by the Scots in 1388 and that parts of it were still in ruins. However, the town never really regained its prosperity, and writers from the 16th and 17th centuries describe it as a poor and insignificant village. Appleby sent two members to parliament from 1295 until it was disenfranchised by the Reform Act of 1832. The market and the St. Lawrence fair are held by tradition. James I granted an additional fair on the second Thursday in April. In the early 18th century, Appleby was known for having the best corn market in the country.

See Victoria County History, Westmorland; W. Hewitson, Appleby Charters (Cumberl. and Westm. Antiq. and Archaeol. Soc., Transactions, xi. 279-285; Kendal, 1891).

See Victoria County History, Westmorland; W. Hewitson, Appleby Charters (Cumberland and Westmorland Antiq. and Archaeol. Soc., Transactions, xi. 279-285; Kendal, 1891).


APPLETON, NATHAN (1770-1861) American merchant and politician, was born in New Ipswich, New Hampshire, on the 6th of October 1779. He was educated in the New Ipswich Academy, and in 1794 entered mercantile life in Boston, in the employment of his brother, Samuel (1766-1853), a successful and benevolent man of business, with whom he was in partnership 225 from 1800 to 1809. He co-operated with Francis C. Lowell and others in introducing the power-loom and the manufacture of cotton on a large scale into the United States, a factory being established at Waltham, Massachusetts, in 1814, and another in 1822 at Lowell, Massachusetts, of which city he was one of the founders. He was a member of the general court of Massachusetts in 1816, 1821, 1822, 1824 and 1827, and in 1831-1833 and 1842 of the national House of Representatives, in which he was prominent as an advocate of protective duties. He died in Boston on the 14th of July 1861.

APPLETON, NATHAN (1770-1861) was an American merchant and politician, born in New Ipswich, New Hampshire, on October 6, 1779. He was educated at the New Ipswich Academy and started his career in business in Boston in 1794, working for his brother, Samuel (1766-1853), a successful and kind businessman. They were partners from 1800 to 1809. Nathan worked with Francis C. Lowell and others to introduce the power loom and large-scale cotton manufacturing in the United States. A factory was established in Waltham, Massachusetts, in 1814, followed by another in Lowell, Massachusetts, in 1822, where he was one of the founders. He served in the Massachusetts general court in 1816, 1821, 1822, 1824, and 1827, and was a member of the national House of Representatives in 1831-1833 and 1842, where he was known for advocating protective tariffs. He passed away in Boston on July 14, 1861.

His son, Thomas Gold Appleton (1812-1884), who graduated at Harvard in 1831, had some reputation as a writer, an artist and a patron of the fine arts, but was better known for his witticisms, one of which, the oft-quoted “Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris,” is sometimes attributed to Oliver Wendell Holmes. He published some poems and, in prose, Nile Journal (1876), Syrian Sunshine (1877), Windfalls (1878), and Chequer-Work (1879).

His son, Thomas Gold Appleton (1812-1884), who graduated from Harvard in 1831, was known as a writer, artist, and supporter of the fine arts, but he was more famous for his clever remarks, including the popular saying, “Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris,” which is sometimes credited to Oliver Wendell Holmes. He published several poems and, in prose, Nile Journal (1876), Syrian Sunshine (1877), Windfalls (1878), and Chequer-Work (1879).

See the memoir of Nathan Appleton by Robert C. Winthrop (Boston, 1861); and Susan Hale’s Life and Letters of Thomas Gold Appleton (New York, 1885).

See the memoir of Nathan Appleton by Robert C. Winthrop (Boston, 1861); and Susan Hale’s Life and Letters of Thomas Gold Appleton (New York, 1885).


APPLETON, a city and the county-seat of Outagamie county, Wisconsin, U.S.A., on the lower Fox river, about 90 m. N. of Milwaukee. Pop. (1890) 11,869; (1900) 15,085, of whom 3605 were foreign-born; (1910, census) 16,773. It is served by the Chicago & North-Western, and the Chicago, Milwaukee & St Paul railways, and by steamboats on the Fox river, by means of which it meets lake transportation at De Pere and Green Bay. Appleton was one of the first cities in the United States to have an electric street railway line in operation; and electric street railways now traverse the entire Fox river valley as far as Fond du Lac on the south and Green Bay on the north. The city is attractively laid out on high bluffs above the river. It has several beautiful parks, two hospitals, a number of fine churches and school buildings, and a public library. The city is the seat of Lawrence college (changed from university in 1908), an interdenominational (originally a Methodist Episcopal) co-educational institution, founded in 1847 as the Lawrence Institute of Wisconsin and named in honour of Amos Adams Lawrence (1814-1886) of Boston, son of Amos Lawrence, and giver of $10,000 for the founding of the Institute. The college comprises an academy, a college of liberal arts, a school of expression, a school of commerce, schools of music and of art, and a school of correspondence; and in 1907-1908 had 33 instructors, 575 students and a library of 24,400 volumes. The Fox river furnishes about 10,000 h.p., which is largely utilized for the manufacture of paper (of which Appleton is one of the largest producers in the United States), wood-pulp, sulphite fibre, machinery, wire screens, woollen goods, knit goods, furniture, dyes and flour. The total value of factory products in 1905 was $6,672,457, an increase of 72.8% over the product value of 1900. Appleton was first permanently settled in 1833, and was named in honour of Samuel Appleton of Massachusetts, who owned part of the original town plot. It was incorporated as a village in 1853, and received in 1857 a city charter, which was revised in 1887 and in 1905.

APPLETON, is a city and the county seat of Outagamie County, Wisconsin, USA, located on the lower Fox River, about 90 miles north of Milwaukee. Population (1890) 11,869; (1900) 15,085, with 3,605 being foreign-born; (1910 census) 16,773. It is served by the Chicago & North-Western and the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul railways, as well as by steamboats on the Fox River, connecting it to lake transport at De Pere and Green Bay. Appleton was among the first cities in the United States to operate an electric street railway line, and electric street railways now run throughout the entire Fox River Valley up to Fond du Lac in the south and Green Bay in the north. The city is nicely designed on high bluffs overlooking the river. It features several beautiful parks, two hospitals, many fine churches and school buildings, and a public library. The city is home to Lawrence College (renamed from university in 1908), an interdenominational (originally Methodist Episcopal) co-educational institution founded in 1847 as the Lawrence Institute of Wisconsin in honor of Amos Adams Lawrence (1814-1886) from Boston, son of Amos Lawrence, who donated $10,000 for the establishment of the Institute. The college includes an academy, a college of liberal arts, a school of expression, a school of commerce, and schools of music and art, as well as a correspondence school; in 1907-1908, it had 33 instructors, 575 students, and a library with 24,400 volumes. The Fox River provides about 10,000 horsepower, which is primarily used for the production of paper (making Appleton one of the largest paper producers in the United States), wood pulp, sulfite fiber, machinery, wire screens, woolen goods, knitwear, furniture, dyes, and flour. The total value of factory products in 1905 was $6,672,457, representing a 72.8% increase over the product value of 1900. Appleton was first permanently settled in 1833 and was named after Samuel Appleton of Massachusetts, who owned part of the original town site. It was incorporated as a village in 1853 and received a city charter in 1857, which was revised in 1887 and 1905.


APPOGGIATURA (from Ital. appoggiare, to lean upon), a musical term for a melodic ornament, a grace-note prefixed to a principal note and printed in small character. The effect is to suspend the principal note, by taking away the time-value of the appoggiatura prefixed to it. There are two kinds, the long appoggiatura, now usually printed as played, and the short, where the suspension of the principal note is scarcely perceptible; this is often called acciatura, a word properly applied to an ornament now obsolete, in which a principal note in a melody is struck together with the note immediately below, the lower note being at once released and the other held on.

APPOGGIATURA (from Ital. appoggiare, to lean on), is a musical term for a melodic ornament, a grace note added before a main note and printed in smaller size. The effect is to suspend the main note by removing the time value of the appoggiatura that precedes it. There are two types: the long appoggiatura, which is usually printed as it’s played, and the short one, where the suspension of the main note is hardly noticeable; this is often referred to as acciatura, a term that originally described an ornament that is now outdated, where a main note in a melody is played together with the note right below it, the lower note being quickly released while the other is held.


APPOINTMENT, POWER OF, in English law, an authority reserved by or limited to a person, to dispose, either wholly or partially, of real or personal property, either for his own benefit or for that of others. Thus if A settle property upon trustees to such uses as B shall by deed or will appoint and in default of and until such appointment to the use of C and his heirs, B, though he has no interest in the property, can at any time appoint the property to any one he pleases, including himself, and C’s interest which has hitherto been vested in him will be divested. In the above case A is said to be the donor, B the donee, and the persons in whose favour the appointment is exercised are called the appointees. Such powers are either general or limited. A general power is one which the appointor may exercise in favour of any person he pleases. It is obvious that such a power is very nearly equivalent to ownership, and consequently property which is the subject of a general power has been made to share the liabilities of ownership. By the Judgments Act 1838 all hereditaments over which a judgment debtor has such a power may be seized by the sheriff under a writ of elegit, and by the Bankruptcy Act 1883 similar property will vest in the trustees of a bankrupt. By the Finance Act 1894 property of which the deceased had a general power of appointment is subject to the payment of estate duty, even though the power has not been exercised. A limited power is one which can only be exercised in favour of certain specified persons or classes; such a power is frequently inserted in marriage settlements in which after life estates to the husband and wife a power is given to appoint among the children of the marriage. In such a case no appointment to any one but children of the marriage is valid. Formerly it was held that the intention of the donor of such a power was that each of the class which are the objects of the power should take some part of the fund, and from this arose the equitable doctrine of illusory appointments, by which the courts of equity set aside an appointment which was good at law on the ground that a merely nominal share had been appointed to one of the objects. The great difficulty of deciding what was a nominal or illusory share caused the passing of the Illusory Appointments Act of 1830, whereby it was enacted that no appointment should be set aside merely on the ground that a share appointed was illusory. It was still necessary, however, that some share should be appointed to each object, and consequently it was possible in the popular phrase to be “cut off with a shilling,” but now by the Powers Amendment Act 1874 the appointor is no longer obliged to appoint a share to each object of the power.

POWER OF APPOINTMENT, in English law refers to the authority given to a person to manage real or personal property, either completely or partially, for their own benefit or for the benefit of others. For example, if A places property in trust, allowing B to designate its use through a deed or will, and if B does not make an appointment, the property will go to C and their heirs. Even if B has no interest in the property, they can decide to appoint it to anyone they choose, including themselves, which will remove C’s vested interest. In this scenario, A is considered the donor, B is the donee, and the individuals benefiting from the appointment are called appointees. These powers can be general or limited. A general power allows the appointor to designate any person they wish. This kind of power is almost equivalent to ownership, meaning that property under a general power is subject to the liabilities of ownership. According to the Judgments Act 1838, any property over which a judgment debtor holds such a power can be seized by the sheriff under a writ of elegit, and under the Bankruptcy Act 1883, similar property transfers to the trustees of a bankrupt. The Finance Act 1894 states that property for which the deceased had a general power of appointment is liable for estate duty, even if the power has not been used. A limited power can only be exercised in favor of specific people or groups; this is often seen in marriage settlements where, after life estates to the husband and wife, a power is given to distribute among their children. In this scenario, appointments can only be valid if made to the children of the marriage. It was previously believed that the donor intended for each member of the specified group to receive a portion of the fund, leading to the principle of illusory appointments, where equitable courts could invalidate an appointment that seemed legal if a token share was given to one of the group. The challenge of determining what constituted a nominal or illusory share led to the Illusory Appointments Act of 1830, which stated that no appointment could be voided solely because a share was illusory. However, it was still required that some share be given to each target, which meant one could be “cut off with a shilling.” Now, thanks to the Powers Amendment Act 1874, the appointor is no longer required to assign a share to every beneficiary of the power.

It is a general rule that every circumstance required by the instrument creating the power to accompany the execution of it must be strictly observed. Thus it might be required that the appointment should be by an instrument witnessed by four witnesses, or that the consent in writing of some third party should be signified. The general rule, however, has been modified both by statute and by the rules of equity. By the Wills Act 1837 a will made pursuant to the requirements of that statute shall be a valid execution of a power of appointment by will, notwithstanding that some additional form or solemnity shall have been required by the instrument creating the power, and by the Wills Act 1861 a will made out of the United Kingdom by a British subject according to the forms required by the law of the place where the will was made shall, as regards personal estate, be held to be well executed and admitted to probate; consequently it has been held that an appointment made by such a will is a valid exercise of the power. As regards appointments by deed the Law of Property Amendment Act 1859 enacts that a deed attested by two witnesses shall, so far as execution and attestation go, be a valid exercise of a power to appoint by deed. The courts of equity also will interfere in some cases of defective execution in order to carry out the intentions of the settlor. The principle upon which the court acts is obscure, but the rule has been thus stated:—“Whenever a man having power over an estate, whether ownership or not, in discharge of moral or natural relations, shows an intention to execute such power, the court will operate upon the conscience of the heir (or of the persons entitled in default) to make him perfect this intention.” Equity, however, only relieves against defects not of the essence of the power, such as the absence of seal or execution by will instead of deed, but where the defect is of the essence of the power, as where a consent is not obtained, equity will not assist, 226 nor will it relieve where a power to appoint by will is purported to be exercised by deed. A power of appointment if exercised must be exercised bona fide, otherwise it will be void as fraudulent; thus it has been frequently decided that where a father, having a limited power of appointment among his children, appoints the whole fund to an infant child, who is in no need of the appointment and who is ill, in the expectation of the death of the child whereby the fund will come to him as next of kin, such appointment is void as a fraud upon the power. Where an execution is partly fraudulent and partly valid the court will, if possible, separate the two and only revoke that which is fraudulent; if, however, the two parts are not separable the whole is void. The same rule is applied in cases of excessive execution where the power is exercised in favour of persons some of whom are and some of whom are not objects of the power. The doctrine of Election (q.v.) applies to appointments under powers, but there must be a gift of free and disposable property to the persons entitled in default of appointment.

It’s a general rule that every condition laid out in the document that grants the power must be followed exactly. For instance, it may require that an appointment be made through a document signed by four witnesses, or that the written consent of a third party be provided. However, this general rule has been modified by laws and equity principles. According to the Wills Act 1837, a will made in accordance with this statute is considered a valid execution of a power to appoint by will, even if the original document imposed additional formalities. The Wills Act 1861 states that a will created outside the UK by a British citizen, according to the laws of that location, will be regarded as properly executed and accepted for probate concerning personal estate; thus, appointments made through such a will are viewed as valid uses of the power. Regarding appointments made by deed, the Law of Property Amendment Act 1859 stipulates that a deed witnessed by two people is a valid exercise of a power to appoint by deed, as far as execution and witnessing are concerned. Equity courts may intervene in some instances of faulty execution to fulfill the settlor's intentions. The principle guiding the court is somewhat unclear but can be summarized as follows: “Whenever a person with control over an estate, regardless of ownership, shows an intention to exercise that power in line with moral or natural obligations, the court will act upon the conscience of the heir (or those entitled in default) to ensure that intention is realized.” However, equity only addresses defects that are not essential to the power, like missing a seal or executing a will instead of a deed. If the defect is essential, such as not obtaining consent, equity will not help, nor will it provide relief when a power to appoint by will is incorrectly attempted through a deed. If a power of appointment is exercised, it must be done in good faith; otherwise, it will be deemed fraudulent and void. For instance, it's often ruled that if a father with limited power to appoint among his children gives the entire fund to a young child who doesn't need it and is sick, expecting the child's death to benefit himself, that appointment is considered a fraudulent misuse of power. When an execution is partially fraudulent and partially valid, the court will try to separate the two and only annul the fraudulent part; however, if they can’t be separated, the entire execution is void. The same rule applies in cases of excessive execution, where the power benefits some individuals who are and some who are not included in the power's scope. The doctrine of Election (q.v.) applies to appointments under powers, but there must be a gift of freely disposable property to those entitled in case of a default appointment.

The appointment must in law be read into the instrument creating the power in lieu of the power itself. Thus an appointor under a limited power cannot appoint to any person to whom the donor could not have appointed by reason of the rule against perpetuities, but this is not so in the case of a general power, for there the appointor is virtually owner of the property appointed. In applying this rule to appointments a distinction arises between powers created by deed and will, for a deed speaks from the date of its execution but a will from the death of the testator, and so limitations bad when the will was made may have become good when it comes into operation. Since the Conveyancing Act 1881 all powers may be released by the donees thereof, unless the power is coupled with a trust in respect of which there is a duty cast on the donee to exercise it; and this is so even though the donee gets a benefit by such release as one entitled in default of appointment, for this is not a fraud upon the power.

The appointment must legally be included in the document that creates the power instead of in the power itself. So, an appointor with a limited power can't appoint someone to whom the donor couldn't have appointed due to the rule against perpetuities, but this isn't the case with a general power, where the appointor essentially owns the property being appointed. When applying this rule to appointments, there's a distinction between powers created by deed and those created by will. A deed takes effect from the date it's executed, while a will takes effect from the death of the testator. This means that limitations that were invalid when the will was made may become valid when it takes effect. Since the Conveyancing Act 1881, all powers can be released by the donees unless the power is tied to a trust that requires the donee to exercise it; this holds true even if the donee benefits from such a release as someone entitled in default of appointment, as this isn't considered a fraud on the power.

(E. S. M. B.)

APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE, a village of Appomattox county, Virginia, U.S.A., 25 m. E. of Lynchburg, in the S. part of the state. It is served by the Norfolk & Western railway. The village was the scene of the surrender of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia under General Robert E. Lee to the Federal forces under Lieutenant-General U.S. Grant on Sunday the 9th of April 1865. The terms were: “the officers to give their individual paroles not to take up arms against the government of the United States until properly exchanged, and each company or regimental commander to sign a like parole for the men of their commands,” ... neither “side arms of the officers nor their private horses or baggage” to be surrendered; and, as many privates in the Confederate Army owned horses and mules, all horses and mules claimed by men in the Confederate Army to be left in their possession.

APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE, is a village in Appomattox County, Virginia, USA, located 25 miles east of Lynchburg, in the southern part of the state. It's served by the Norfolk & Western railway. This village was the site of the surrender of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia, led by General Robert E. Lee, to the Union forces under Lieutenant-General U.S. Grant on Sunday, April 9, 1865. The terms were: “the officers to give their individual paroles not to take up arms against the government of the United States until properly exchanged, and each company or regimental commander to sign a similar parole for the men in their commands,” ... neither “side arms of the officers nor their private horses or baggage” were to be surrendered; and because many privates in the Confederate Army owned horses and mules, all horses and mules claimed by men in the Confederate Army could remain in their possession.


APPONYI, ALBERT, Count (1846-  ), Hungarian statesman, the most distinguished member of an ancient noble family, dating back to the 13th century, and son of the chancellor Gyorgy Apponyi (1808-1899) and the accomplished and saintly Countess Julia Sztáray, was born at Pesth on the 29th of May 1846. Educated at the Jesuit seminary at Kalksburg and at the universities of Vienna and Pesth, a long foreign tour completed his curriculum, and at Paris he made the acquaintance of Montalembert, a kindred spirit, whose influence on the young Apponyi was permanent. He entered parliament in 1872 as a liberal Catholic, attaching himself at first to the Deák party; but the feudal and ultramontane traditions of his family circle profoundly modified, though they could never destroy, his popular ideals. On the break up of the Deák party he attached himself to the conservative group which followed Baron Pál Senynyey (1824-1888) and eventually became its leader. Until 1905 Count Albert was constantly in opposition, but in May of that year he consented to take office in the second Wekerle ministry. A lofty and magnetic orator, his speeches were published at Budapest in 1896; and he is the author of an interesting dissertation, Esthetics and Politics, the Artist and the Statesman (Hung.) (Budapest, 1895).

APPONYI, ALBERT, Count (1846-  ), Hungarian politician, the most prominent member of an ancient noble family that dates back to the 13th century, and the son of Chancellor Gyorgy Apponyi (1808-1899) and the talented and virtuous Countess Julia Sztáray, was born in Pesth on May 29, 1846. He was educated at the Jesuit seminary in Kalksburg and at the universities of Vienna and Pesth, and a long trip abroad completed his education. In Paris, he met Montalembert, a kindred spirit, whose impact on the young Apponyi was lasting. He entered parliament in 1872 as a liberal Catholic and initially aligned himself with the Deák party; however, the feudal and ultramontane traditions of his family profoundly influenced, although did not erase, his progressive ideals. After the Deák party split, he joined the conservative group led by Baron Pál Senynyey (1824-1888) and eventually became its leader. Count Albert was in opposition until 1905, when he agreed to join the second Wekerle ministry. A lofty and charismatic orator, his speeches were published in Budapest in 1896; he also wrote an intriguing dissertation, Esthetics and Politics, the Artist and the Statesman (Hung.) (Budapest, 1895).


APPORTIONMENT (Fr. apportionement; Med. Lat. apportionamentum; derived from Lat. portio, share), distribution or allotment in proper shares; a term used in law in a variety of senses, (1) Sometimes it is employed roughly and with no technical meaning to indicate the distribution of a benefit (e.g. salvage or damages under the Fatal Accidents Act 1846, § 2), or liability (e.g. general average contributions, or tithe rent-charge), or the incidence of a duty (e.g. obligations as to the maintenance of highways). (2) In its strict legal interpretation apportionment falls into two classes, “apportionment in respect of estate” and “apportionment in respect of time.”

APPORTIONMENT (Fr. apportionement; Med. Lat. apportionamentum; derived from Lat. portio, share), the distribution or allocation in proper shares; a term used in law in various ways, (1) Sometimes it's used loosely and without a technical meaning to refer to the distribution of a benefit (e.g. salvage or damages under the Fatal Accidents Act 1846, § 2), or liability (e.g. general average contributions, or tithe rent-charge), or the application of a duty (e.g. responsibilities related to the maintenance of highways). (2) In its precise legal meaning, apportionment is divided into two categories: “apportionment in respect of estate” and “apportionment in respect of time.”

1. Apportionment in respect of Estate may result either from the act of the parties or from the operation of law. Where a lessee is evicted from, or surrenders or forfeits possession of part of the property leased to him, he becomes liable at common law to pay only a rent apportioned to the value of the interest which he still retains. So where the person entitled to the reversion of an estate assigns part of it, the right to an apportioned part of the rent incident to the whole reversion passes to his assignee. The lessee is not bound, however, by an apportionment of rent made upon the grant of part of the reversion unless it is made either with his consent or by the verdict of a jury. The assignee of the reversion of part of demised premises could not, at common law, re-enter for breach of a condition, inasmuch as a condition of re-entry in a lease could not at common law be apportioned. But this has now been altered by statute both in England (Law of Property Amendment Act 1859, § 3; Conveyancing Act 1881, § 12) and in many of the British colonies (e.g. Ontario, Rev. Stats., 1897, c. 170, § 9; Barbados, No. 12 of 1891, § 9). In the cases just mentioned there is apportionment in respect of estate by act of the parties.

1. Apportionment in relation to Estate can happen either through the actions of the parties involved or as a result of legal regulations. When a tenant is evicted from, or gives up, or loses possession of part of the property they are leasing, they only have to pay rent that matches the value of the part they still occupy, under common law. Similarly, if the person who owns the reversion of an estate transfers part of it, the right to receive a portion of the rent associated with the entire reversion goes to their assignee. However, the tenant is not obligated to follow a rent apportionment that occurs when part of the reversion is granted, unless it is done with their consent or determined by a jury's verdict. An assignee of part of the leased property, at common law, could not re-enter for a breach of condition, since the conditions for re-entry in a lease could not be apportioned at common law. However, this has now been changed by legislation both in England (Law of Property Amendment Act 1859, § 3; Conveyancing Act 1881, § 12) and in several British colonies (e.g. Ontario, Rev. Stats., 1897, c. 170, § 9; Barbados, No. 12 of 1891, § 9). In the situations mentioned, apportionment concerning the estate occurs through the actions of the parties.

Apportionment by operation of law may be brought about where by act of law a lease becomes inoperative as regards its subject-matter, or by the “act of God” (as, for instance, where part of an estate is submerged by the encroachments of the sea). To the same category belongs the apportionment of rent which takes place under various statutes (e.g. the Lands Clauses Consolidation Act 1845, § 119, when land is required for public purposes; the Agricultural Holdings Act 1883, § 41, in the case of a tenant from year to year receiving notice to quit part of a holding; and the Irish Land Act 1903, § 61, apportionment of quit and crown rents).

Apportionment by operation of law can occur when, due to legal action, a lease becomes invalid regarding its subject matter, or through “acts of God” (for example, when part of a property is flooded due to the sea’s encroachment). The same category includes the apportionment of rent that happens under various statutes (e.g. the Lands Clauses Consolidation Act 1845, § 119, when land is needed for public use; the Agricultural Holdings Act 1883, § 41, in cases where a yearly tenant is given notice to leave part of their rental; and the Irish Land Act 1903, § 61, regarding the apportionment of quit and crown rents).

2. Apportionment in respect of Time.—At common law, there was no apportionment of rent in respect of time. Such apportionment was, however, in ceftain cases allowed in England by the Distress for Rent Act 1737, and the Apportionment Act 1834, and is now allowed generally under the Apportionment Act 1870. Under that statute (§ 2) all rents, annuities, dividends and other periodical payments in the nature of income are to be considered as accruing from day to day and to be apportionable in respect of time accordingly. It is provided, however, that the apportioned part of such rents, &c., shall only be payable or recoverable in the case of a continuing payment, when the entire portion of which it forms part itself becomes payable, and, in the case of a payment determined by re-entry, death or otherwise, only when the next entire portion would have been payable if it had not so determined (§ 3). Persons entitled to apportioned parts of rent have the same remedies for recovering them when payable as they would have had in respect of the entire rent; but a lessee is not to be liable for any apportioned part specifically. The rent is recoverable by the heir or other person who would, but for the apportionment, be entitled to the entire rent, and he holds it subject to distribution (§ 4). The Apportionment Act 1870 extends to payments not made under any instrument in writing (§ 2), but not to annual sums made payable in policies of insurance (§ 6). Apportionment under the act can be excluded by express stipulation.

2. Apportionment in respect of Time.—At common law, rent was not divided by time. However, in some cases, England allowed for apportionment through the Distress for Rent Act 1737 and the Apportionment Act 1834, and it is now generally permitted under the Apportionment Act 1870. According to this statute (§ 2), all rents, annuities, dividends, and other regular payments that are income-like are considered to accrue daily and can be divided by time. It is stated, however, that the apportioned portion of these rents, etc., is only payable or recoverable in cases of ongoing payments when the full amount it belongs to becomes due, and for payments that are ended by re-entry, death, or other means, only when the next full amount would have been due had it not ended (§ 3). Those entitled to their share of rent have the same rights to recover them when they are due as they would for the full rent; however, a tenant is not liable for any specific apportioned part. The rent can be recovered by the heir or another person who would have been entitled to the full rent if not for the apportionment, and they hold it for distribution (§ 4). The Apportionment Act 1870 applies to payments not made under a written agreement (§ 2), but does not apply to annual sums payable in insurance policies (§ 6). Apportionment under the act can be excluded by specific agreement.

The apportionment created by this statute is “apportionment in respect of time.” The cases to which it applies are mainly cases of either (A) apportionment of rent due under leases where at a time between the dates fixed for payment the lessor or lessee dies, or some other alteration in the position of parties occurs; or (B) apportionment of income between the representatives of a limited owner and the remainder-man when the limited interest 227 determines at a time between the date when such income became due.

The distribution set up by this law is "distribution over time." It mainly applies to cases where (A) rent owed under leases needs to be divided because either the landlord or tenant dies, or there's some other change in the parties involved; or (B) the division of income between the representatives of a limited owner and the remainder holder when the limited interest ends at a point between when the income was due. 227

(A) With regard to the former of these classes, it may be noticed that although apportioned rent becomes payable only when the whole rent is due, the landlord, in the case of the bankruptcy of an ordinary tenant, may prove for a proportionate part of the rent up to the date of the receiving order (Bankruptcy Act 1883, Sched. ii. r. 19); and that a similar rule holds good in the winding up of a company (in re South Kensington Co-operative Stores, 1881, 17 Ch.D. 161); and further that the act of 1870 applies to the liability to pay, as well as to the right to receive, rent (in re Wilson, 1893, 62 L.J.Q.B. 628, 632). Accordingly where an assignment of a lease is made between two half-yearly rent-days, the assignee is not liable to pay the full amount of the half-year’s rent falling due on the rent-day next after the date of the assignment, but only an apportioned part of that half-year’s rent, computed from the last mentioned date (Glass v. Patterson, 1902, 2 Ir.R. 660).

(A) Regarding the first of these categories, it's important to note that even though apportioned rent is only due when the entire rent is payable, a landlord can claim for a portion of the rent up to the date of the receiving order if an ordinary tenant goes bankrupt (Bankruptcy Act 1883, Sched. ii. r. 19). A similar principle applies during the winding up of a company (in re South Kensington Co-operative Stores, 1881, 17 Ch.D. 161). Additionally, the act of 1870 pertains to both the obligation to pay rent and the right to receive it (in re Wilson, 1893, 62 L.J.Q.B. 628, 632). Thus, when a lease is assigned between two half-yearly rent due dates, the assignee is only responsible for paying a portion of the half-year's rent that is due on the next rent day following the assignment date, calculated from that date onward (Glass v. Patterson, 1902, 2 Ir.R. 660).

(B.) With regard to the apportionment of income, the only points requiring notice here are that all dividends payable by public companies are apportionable, whether paid at fixed periods or not, unless the payment is, in effect, a payment of capital (§ 5).

(B.) When it comes to dividing income, the only points worth mentioning here are that all dividends paid by public companies can be divided, whether they are paid at regular intervals or not, unless the payment is essentially a return of capital (§ 5).

The Apportionment Act 1870 extends to Scotland and Ireland. It has been followed in many of the British colonies (e.g. Ontario, Rev. Stats., 1897, c. 170, §§ 4-8; New Zealand, No. 4 of 1886; Tasmania, No. 8 of 1871; Barbados, No. 12 of 1891, §§ 9-12). Similar legislation has been adopted in many of the states of the American Union, where, as in England, rent was not, at common law, apportionable as to time (Kent, Comm. iii. 469-472).

The Apportionment Act of 1870 applies to Scotland and Ireland. It has been adopted in many British colonies (e.g., Ontario, Rev. Stats., 1897, c. 170, §§ 4-8; New Zealand, No. 4 of 1886; Tasmania, No. 8 of 1871; Barbados, No. 12 of 1891, §§ 9-12). Similar laws have been enacted in various states of the American Union, where, just like in England, rent was not, according to common law, apportionable over time (Kent, Comm. iii. 469-472).

An equitable apportionment, apart from statute law, arises where property is bequeathed on trust to pay the income to a tenant for life and the reversion to others, and the realization of the property in the form of a fund capable of producing income is postponed for the benefit of the estate. In such cases there is an ultimate apportionment between the persons entitled to the income and those entitled to the capital of the accumulations for the period of such postponement. The rule followed is this: the proceeds, when realized, are apportionable between capital and income by ascertaining the sum which, put out and accumulated at 3% per annum from the day of the testator’s death (with yearly rents and deducting income tax) would have produced at the day of receipt the sum actually received. The sum so ascertained should be treated as capital and the residue as income. (In re Earl of Chesterfield’s Trusts, 1883, 24 Ch.D. 643; In re Goodenough, 1895, 2 Ch. 537; Rowlls v. Bebb, 1900, 2 Ch. 107.)

An equitable apportionment, aside from statutory law, occurs when property is left in trust to pay income to a life tenant while the reversion goes to others, and converting the property into a fund that can generate income is delayed for the benefit of the estate. In these situations, there will ultimately be a division between those entitled to the income and those entitled to the capital from the accumulations during the postponement period. The established rule is as follows: the proceeds, once realized, are divided between capital and income by calculating the amount that, if invested and compounded at 3% per annum from the date of the testator’s death (including annual rents and after deducting income tax), would have resulted in the actual amount received on the date of receipt. The calculated amount should be regarded as capital, while the remainder is considered income. (In re Earl of Chesterfield’s Trusts, 1883, 24 Ch.D. 643; In re Goodenough, 1895, 2 Ch. 537; Rowlls v. Bebb, 1900, 2 Ch. 107.)

In addition to the authorities cited in the text, see Stroud, Jud. Dict. (2nd ed., London, 1903), s.v. “Apportion”; Bouvier, Law Dict. (London and Boston, 1897), s.v. “Apportionment”; Ruling Cases (London, 1895), tit. “Apportionment”; Fawcett, Landlord and Tenant (London, 1905), pp. 238 et seq.; Foa, Landlord and Tenant (3rd ed., London, 1901), pp. 112 et seq.

In addition to the authorities mentioned in the text, see Stroud, Jud. Dict. (2nd ed., London, 1903), s.v. “Apportion”; Bouvier, Law Dict. (London and Boston, 1897), s.v. “Apportionment”; Ruling Cases (London, 1895), tit. “Apportionment”; Fawcett, Landlord and Tenant (London, 1905), pp. 238 et seq.; Foa, Landlord and Tenant (3rd ed., London, 1901), pp. 112 et seq.

(A. W. R.)

APPORTIONMENT BILL, an act passed by the Congress of the United States after each decennial census to determine the number of members which each state shall send to the House of Representatives. The ratio of representation fixed by the original constitution was 1 to 30,000 of the free population, and the number of the members of the first House was 65. As the House would, at this ratio, have become unmanageably large, the ratio, which is first settled by Congress before apportionment, has been raised after each census, as will be seen from the accompanying table.

APPORTIONMENT BILL, is a law passed by the U.S. Congress after each ten-year census to decide how many members each state will send to the House of Representatives. The original constitution set the representation ratio at 1 for every 30,000 free people, resulting in the first House having 65 members. Since the House would have become too large at this ratio, Congress has increased the ratio before each apportionment after every census, as shown in the table that follows.

Under Census Apportionment Whole
Number of
Repre-
sentatives.
Year Population Year Ratio
Constitution · · · · 1789 30,000  65
First Census 1790 3,929,214 1793 33,000 105
Second Census 1800 5,308,483 1803 33,000 141
Third Census 1810 7,239,881 1813 35,000 181
Fourth Census 1820 9,633,822 1823 40,000 213
Fifth Census 1830 12,866,020 1833 47,700 240
Sixth Census 1840 17,069,453 1843 70,680 223
Seventh Census 1850 23,191,876 1853 93,423 234
Eighth Census 1860 31,443,321 1863 127,381 241
Ninth Census 1870 38,558,371 1873 131,425 292
Tenth Census 1880 50,155,783 1883 151,911 325
Eleventh Census 1890 62,622,250 1893 173,901 356
Twelfth Census 1900 75,568,686 1903 194,182 386

The same term is applied to the acts passed by the state legislatures for correcting and redistributing the representation of the counties. Such acts are usually passed at decennial intervals, more often after the federal census, but the dates may vary in different states. The state representatives are usually apportioned among the several counties according to population and not by geographical position. The electoral districts so formed are expected to be equal in proportion to the number of inhabitants; but this method has led to much abuse in the past, through the making of unequal districts for partisan purposes. (See Gerrymander.)

The same term refers to the laws passed by state legislatures to adjust and redistribute representation among the counties. These laws are typically enacted every ten years, often following the federal census, although the timing can differ between states. State representatives are usually allocated across the various counties based on population rather than geographical location. The electoral districts created are meant to be proportional to the number of residents; however, this approach has led to significant issues in the past, including the creation of unequal districts for political gain. (See Gerrymander.)

If a state has received an increase in the number of its representatives and its legislature does not pass an apportionment bill before the next congressional election, the votes of the whole state elect the additional members on a general ticket and they are called “congressmen-at-large.”

If a state has gained more representatives and its legislature doesn’t pass a redistribution bill before the next congressional election, the votes from the entire state elect the extra members on a general ticket, and they are referred to as “congressmen-at-large.”


APPRAISER (from Lat. appretiare, to value), one who sets a value upon property, real or personal. In England the business of an appraiser is usually combined with that of an auctioneer, while the word itself has given place, to a great extent, to that of “valuer.” (See the articles Auctions and Auctioneers, and Valuation and Valuers.)

APPRAISER (from Lat. appretiare, to value), a person who determines the value of property, whether real estate or personal belongings. In England, the role of an appraiser is often combined with that of an auctioneer, and the term itself has largely been replaced by “valuer.” (See the articles Auctions and Auctioneers, and Valuation and Valuers.)

In the United States appraiser is a term often used to describe a person specially appointed by a judicial or quasi-judicial authority to put a valuation on property, e.g. on the items of an inventory of the estate of a deceased person or on land taken for public purposes by the right of eminent domain. Appraisers of imported goods and boards of general appraisers have extensive functions in administering the customs laws of the United States. Merchant appraisers are sometimes appointed temporarily under the revenue laws to value where there is no resident appraiser without holding the office of appraiser (U.S. Rev. Stats. § 2609).

In the United States, the term appraiser refers to a person specially appointed by a judicial or quasi-judicial authority to assess the value of property, such as items in an estate inventory of a deceased person or land appropriated for public use under eminent domain. Appraisers of imported goods and general appraiser boards play significant roles in enforcing the customs laws of the United States. Merchant appraisers may be temporarily appointed under revenue laws to evaluate when no resident appraiser is available, without officially holding the title of appraiser (U.S. Rev. Stats. § 2609).


APPREHENSION (Lat. ad, to; prehendere, to seize), in psychology, a term applied to a mode of consciousness in which nothing is affirmed or denied of the object in question, but the mind is merely aware of (“seizes”) it. “Judgment” (says Reid, ed. Hamilton, i. p. 414) “is an act of the mind specifically different from simple apprehension or the bare conception of a thing”; and again, “Simple apprehension or conception can neither be true nor false.” This distinction provides for the large class of mental acts in which we are simply aware of or “take in” a number of familiar objects, about which we in general make no judgment unless our attention is suddenly called by a new feature. Or again two alternatives may be apprehended without any resultant judgment as to their respective merits. Similarly G.F. Stout points out that while we have a very vivid idea of a character or an incident in a work of fiction, we can hardly be said in any real sense to have any belief or to make any judgment as to its existence or truth. With this mental state may be compared the purely aesthetic contemplation of music, wherein apart from, say, a false note, the faculty of judgment is for the time inoperative. To these examples may be added the fact that one can fully understand an argument in all its bearings without in any way judging its validity.

APPREHENSION (Lat. ad, to; prehendere, to seize), in psychology, is a term used to describe a state of awareness where nothing is affirmed or denied about the object in question; the mind is simply aware of (“seizes”) it. “Judgment” (says Reid, ed. Hamilton, i. p. 414) “is an act of the mind that is specifically different from simple apprehension or the basic understanding of a thing”; and again, “Simple apprehension or understanding can neither be true nor false.” This distinction accounts for a large range of mental activities where we are just aware of or “take in” many familiar objects, about which we generally don’t make any judgment unless a new detail catches our attention. Alternatively, two options can be understood without any judgment about their respective merits. Similarly, G.F. Stout notes that while we may have a very clear idea of a character or an event in a work of fiction, we can hardly be said to genuinely believe in or judge its existence or truth. This mental state can also be compared to the purely aesthetic enjoyment of music, where, aside from, say, a wrong note, the judgment function is temporarily inactive. We can also understand an argument in all its aspects without making any judgment about its validity.

Without going into the question fully, it may be pointed out that the distinction between judgment and apprehension is relative. In every kind of thought there is judgment of some sort in a greater or less degree of prominence. Judgment and thought are in fact psychologically distinguishable merely as different, though correlative, activities of consciousness. Professor Stout further investigates the phenomena of apprehension, and comes to the conclusion that “it is possible to distinguish and identify a whole without apprehending any of its constituent details.” On the other hand, if the attention 228 focuses itself for a time on the apprehended object, there is an expectation that such details will as it were emerge into consciousness. Hence he describes such apprehension as “implicit,” and in so far as the implicit apprehension determines the order of such emergence he describes it as “schematic.” A good example of this process is the use of formulae in calculations; ordinarily the formula is used without question; if attention is fixed upon it, the steps by which it is shown to be universally applicable emerge and the “schema” is complete in detail.

Without diving deep into the issue, it’s worth noting that the difference between judgment and understanding is relative. In every type of thought, there is some form of judgment present, to varying degrees. Judgment and thought are actually distinguishable in a psychological sense, as different yet interconnected activities of consciousness. Professor Stout further examines the concept of understanding and concludes that “it is possible to distinguish and identify a whole without understanding any of its component details.” Conversely, if attention is focused for a while on the object of understanding, there's an expectation that those details will come to light. Thus, he refers to this type of understanding as “implicit,” and since this implicit understanding influences the sequence of how details emerge, he calls it “schematic.” A good example of this process is how formulas are used in calculations; typically, the formula is applied without question; when attention is directed at it, the steps that demonstrate its universal applicability become clear, and the “schema” is fully developed.

With this result may be compared Kant’s theory of apprehension as a synthetic act (the “synthesis of apprehension”) by which the sensory elements of a perception are subjected to the formal conditions of time and space.

With this result, we can compare Kant’s theory of apprehension as a synthetic act (the “synthesis of apprehension”) where the sensory elements of a perception are organized according to the formal conditions of time and space.

See G.F. Stout, Analytic Psychology (London, 1896); F. Brentano, Psychologie (bk. ii. ch. vii.), and Vom Ursprung sittlicher Erkenntnis; B. Titchener, Outlines of Psychology (New York, 1902), and text-books of psychology. Also Psychology.

See G.F. Stout, Analytic Psychology (London, 1896); F. Brentano, Psychologie (bk. ii. ch. vii.), and Vom Ursprung sittlicher Erkenntnis; B. Titchener, Outlines of Psychology (New York, 1902), and psychology textbooks. Also Psychology.


APPRENTICESHIP (from Fr. apprendre, to learn), a contract whereby one person, called the master, binds himself to teach, and another, called the apprentice, undertakes to learn, some trade or profession, the apprentice serving his master for a certain time.

APPRENTICESHIP (from Fr. apprendre, to learn), is a contract where one person, known as the master, agrees to teach, and another, called the apprentice, commits to learning a specific trade or profession, with the apprentice working for the master for a designated period.

Roman law is silent on the subject on this contract, nor does it seem to have had any connexion with the division of the Roman citizens into tribes or colleges. So far as can be seen it arose in the middle ages, and formed an integral part of the system of trade gilds and corporations by which skilled labourers of all kinds sought protection against the feudal lords, and the maintenance of those exclusive privileges with which in the interests of the public they were favoured. In those times it was believed that neither arts nor sciences would flourish unless such only were allowed to practise them as had given proofs of reasonable proficiency and were formed into bodies corporate, with certain powers of self-government and the exclusive monopoly of their respective arts within certain localities; and the medieval universitas (corporation)—whether of smiths and tailors or of scholars—included both such as were entitled to practise and teach and such as were in course of learning. The former were the masters, the latter the apprentices. Hence the term apprentice was applied indifferently to such as were being taught a trade or a learned profession, and even to undergraduates or scholars who were qualifying themselves for the degree of doctor or master in the liberal arts. When barristers were first appointed by Edward I. of England they were styled apprenticii ad legem—the serjeants-at-law being servientes ad legem; and these two terms corresponded respectively to the trade names of apprentices and journeymen. During the middle ages the term of apprenticeship was seven years, and this period was thought no more than sufficient to instruct the learner in his profession, craft or mystery under a properly qualified master, teacher or doctor—for these names were synonymous—and to reimburse the latter by service for the training received. After this the apprentice became himself a master and a member of the corporation, with full rights to practise the business and to teach others in his turn; so also it would seem that undergraduates had to pass through a curriculum of seven years before they could attain the degree of doctor or master in the liberal arts. On the continent of Europe these rules were observed with considerable rigour, both in the learned professions and in those which we now designate as trades. In England they made their way more slowly and did not receive much countenance, there being always a jealousy of anything savouring of interference with the freedom of trade. Nevertheless the formation of gilds and companies of tradesmen in England dates probably from the 12th century, and the institution of apprenticeships cannot be of much later date. In 1388 and 1405 it is noticed in acts of parliament. By various subsequent statutes provisions were made for the regulation of the institution, and from them it appears that seven years was its ordinary and normal term in the absence of special arrangement. By a statute of 1562 this was made the law of the land, and it was enacted that no person should exercise any “trade or mystery” without having served a seven years’ apprenticeship. In no place did the apprentices become so formidable by their numbers and organization as in London. During the Great Rebellion they took an active part as a political body, and were conspicuous after the Restoration by being frequently engaged in tumults. It was probably owing to this circumstance, quite as much as to economic considerations of freedom of trade, that the act of Elizabeth never found much favour with the courts of law. Soon after the Great Rebellion we find the apprentice laws strongly reprobated by the judges, who endeavoured, on the theory that the act of Elizabeth could apply to no trades which were not in existence at its date, to limit its operation as far as possible. Such limitation of the act gave rise to many absurd anomalies and inconsistencies, e.g. that a coachmaker could not make his own wheels but must buy them of a wheelwright, while the latter might make both wheels and coaches, because coach-making was not a trade in England when the act of Elizabeth was passed. For the like reason the great textile and metal manufactures which arose at Manchester and Birmingham were held exempt from the operation of the statute. Concurrently with the dislike to the apprentice laws which such anomalies generated, the doctrines of Adam Smith, that all monopolies or restrictions on the freedom of trade were injurious to the public interest, had gradually been making their way, and notwithstanding much opposition an act was passed in 1814 by which the statute of Elizabeth, in so far as it enacts that no person shall engage in any trade without a seven years’ apprenticeship, was wholly repealed. The effect of this act was to give every person the fullest right to exercise any occupation or calling of a mechanical or trading kind for which he deemed himself qualified.

Roman law doesn't address this contract and doesn't seem connected to the division of Roman citizens into tribes or colleges. It looks like this concept emerged in the Middle Ages and became a key part of trade guilds and corporations, through which skilled workers sought protection from feudal lords and maintained exclusive privileges for the public good. Back then, it was thought that neither arts nor sciences could thrive unless only those who demonstrated reasonable proficiency were allowed to practice, forming corporate bodies with some self-governing powers and exclusive rights in specific areas. The medieval universitas (corporation) — whether of blacksmiths, tailors, or scholars — included both those qualified to practice and teach and those still learning. The former were the masters, while the latter were the apprentices. Thus, the term apprentice was broadly used for anyone being trained in a trade or scholarly profession, including undergraduates working towards their degrees in the liberal arts. When barristers were first appointed by Edward I of England, they were called apprenticii ad legem — with the serjeants-at-law referred to as servientes ad legem; these terms matched the names for apprentices and journeymen in trades. In the Middle Ages, the apprenticeship term was seven years, which was seen as enough time to properly train a learner under a qualified master, teacher, or doctor — these terms being interchangeable — and to repay them for the training received through service. After this period, the apprentice became a master and a member of the corporation, gaining full rights to practice and teach others. Similarly, it seems undergraduates had to complete a seven-year curriculum before achieving their degree in liberal arts. In continental Europe, these rules were followed strictly for both learned professions and what we now consider trades. In England, however, these practices developed more slowly and faced resistance due to concerns over trade freedom. Still, the formation of guilds and trade companies in England likely dates back to the 12th century, with the establishment of apprenticeships occurring shortly after. It was mentioned in acts of parliament in 1388 and 1405. Various subsequent statutes aimed to regulate this institution, establishing that seven years was the usual apprenticeship duration unless stated otherwise. A statute from 1562 formalized this as law, stating that no one could practice a “trade or mystery” without serving a seven-year apprenticeship. Apprentices became notable for their numbers and organization, especially in London. During the Great Rebellion, they played an active political role and were often involved in riots after the Restoration. This situation, along with concerns about economic freedom, likely contributed to the act of Elizabeth not being well-received by the courts. After the Great Rebellion, judges strongly criticized the apprentice laws, attempting to restrict the act's application to trades existing at its enactment date. These limitations led to various absurdities and inconsistencies, such as a coachmaker being unable to make his own wheels and having to purchase them from a wheelwright, who could create both wheels and coaches, since coach-making wasn't considered a trade in England at the time of the act. Similarly, major textile and metal industries emerging in Manchester and Birmingham were exempt from this statute. Alongside this resistance to apprentice laws prompted by such inconsistencies, the ideas of Adam Smith gained traction, arguing that monopolies or restrictions on trade freedom were harmful to public interest. Despite considerable opposition, an act was passed in 1814, completely repealing the requirement that no one could engage in any trade without a seven-year apprenticeship. This act allowed everyone the unrestricted right to pursue any mechanical or trade occupation they felt qualified for.

Apprenticeship, therefore, which was formerly a compulsory, now became a voluntary contract. In the case of the learned professions the principles and theories which gave birth to corporations with monopolies, and required apprenticeship or its equivalents, have—contrary to what has taken place in trade— been not only maintained but intensified; that is to say, not only have such bodies retained and even extended in some cases their exclusive privileges, but in general no one is allowed to practise in such professions unless his capabilities have been tested and approved by public authority. Thus no man is allowed to practise law or medicine in any of their branches who has not undergone the appropriate training by attendance at a university or by apprenticeship—sometimes by both combined— and passed certain examinations. Entrance to the church is guarded by similar checks. In such instances the old principle— now generally abandoned in trade—of granting a monopoly to those possessing a certain standard of qualification is maintained in greater vigour than ever.

Apprenticeship, which used to be mandatory, has now become a voluntary agreement. In the case of professional fields, the principles and theories that led to the establishment of corporations with monopolies, which required apprenticeship or similar qualifications, have—unlike in trade—not only been preserved but strengthened. This means that these organizations have kept and, in some cases, even expanded their exclusive rights, and in general, no one is allowed to work in these professions unless their skills have been evaluated and approved by a public authority. Therefore, no one can practice law or medicine in any of its forms without going through the necessary training at a university or an apprenticeship—sometimes both—and passing certain exams. Entry into the church is also regulated by similar requirements. In these cases, the old principle—now mostly discarded in trade—of granting a monopoly to those who meet a certain standard of qualification is upheld more rigorously than ever.

In some kinds of manufacture the old conditions have been modified by the subdivisions of labour or by the introduction of machinery, which have reduced the amount of skill which formerly was requisite, and thus they have passed out of the category of the higher skilled handicrafts, as only a very slight or short training is necessary to make an efficient worker; but a large number of the higher skilled trades remain which require a long period of training at the bench, and a careful inquiry into this subject has shown that in nearly all of such trades there is a scarcity of skilled workers, which is due to the falling off in the number of apprenticeships. Many persons qualified to form an opinion deplore that something in the nature of the old standard of qualification is not still applied to those trades, and consider that the only method of restoring a high standard of skill is by apprenticeship. The decay of apprenticeship in these trades is due, not to any inherent defect in the system, nor to its having been superseded by any other form of technical education, but to difficulties, especially in London and some other large towns, which place it beyond the reach of that class of persons who have the greatest need of it. Among these difficulties are:—first, insufficient organization, and secondly, want of funds to pay premiums where such are required. These difficulties are 229 accentuated in London and some other large towns, but in many other districts apprenticeship is actively proceeded with. Efforts are being made, notably by the National Institution of Apprenticeship, to meet these difficulties. The Charity Commissioners in their report for 1905 recognized the value of this institution, and stated that they would in future enable the trustees of charity endowments for apprenticeship to avail themselves of the practical co-operation of the institution. The modern trade unions, on the other hand, have done nothing to assist in restoring apprenticeship to its proper place; on the contrary, they have hampered it by restrictions which they have imposed, limiting the number of apprentices who may be taken. The result of fewer apprentices has been not only to lower the standard of skill in the higher trades, but to reduce the productive capacity of the artisans. The altered conditions now attending apprenticeship are, mainly, that the apprentice does not live with the master, and that the term is generally five years instead of a longer period; but the principle remains precisely the same, and the fact that it is applied more and more largely in Austria, Germany and other countries is an evidence of its necessity.

In some types of manufacturing, the old ways have changed due to the division of labor and the introduction of machines, which have lowered the amount of skill needed compared to the past. As a result, these jobs are no longer seen as highly skilled trades since only a little training is required to become a competent worker. However, many higher-skilled trades still exist that need extensive training at the workbench, and a thorough investigation into this issue has revealed that almost all of these trades are facing a shortage of skilled workers, primarily because there are fewer apprenticeships available. Many experts express concern that the old standards for qualifications are not being upheld in these trades and believe the only way to restore a high skill level is through apprenticeship. The decline of apprenticeships in these trades is not due to any flaws in the system or its replacement by other forms of technical education, but rather to challenges—especially in London and other large cities—that make it inaccessible for those who need it most. These challenges include: first, poor organization, and second, lack of funds to pay for required premiums. These issues are particularly pronounced in London and similar large cities, although many other regions still actively support apprenticeships. Efforts are being made, especially by the National Institution of Apprenticeship, to address these challenges. The Charity Commissioners acknowledged the importance of this institution in their 1905 report and indicated that they would help trustees of charity endowments for apprenticeships to collaborate with the institution. On the other hand, modern trade unions have not helped restore apprenticeships to their rightful status; instead, they have imposed restrictions that limit the number of apprentices that can be accepted. The decline in the number of apprentices has resulted not only in a drop in skill levels in higher trades but also in reduced productivity among artisans. The current conditions surrounding apprenticeships mainly include the fact that apprentices do not live with their masters, and the duration is typically five years instead of a longer term; however, the core principle remains unchanged, and the increasing adoption of this model in Austria, Germany, and other countries shows its necessity.

The contract of apprenticeship is generally created by indenture, but any writing properly expressed and attested will do. The full consideration must be set out, and the instrument, whether a premium is paid or not, must be duly stamped, except in the case of parish apprentices and apprentices to the sea service (see Seamen, Laws Relating to). Where a charity or institution intervenes, it retains control over the indentures until the end of the term of apprenticeship, when the indenture should be cancelled and given up to the apprentice. Any one who is capable of making a contract can take an apprentice, and the law does not limit the number which may be taken by any master. Any person of legal capacity can bind himself as an apprentice, provided he is over seven years of age, though, as he is by the common law exempt from all liability ex contractu, it is usual for the apprentice’s relations or friends to become bound for his service and good conduct during the period of his apprenticeship. The consent of the apprentice, however, must be expressed by his executing the indenture. No child under nine can be bound as a parish apprentice. The master must teach the apprentice the agreed trade or trades; should the master exercise two trades (which he has agreed to teach) and give up one, it would be good ground for dissolving the contract by the apprentice. An apprentice is not bound to work on Sundays, but he may be required to work on bank holidays. He cannot become a volunteer (soldier) without his master’s consent. It is usual in the indenture to state whether the apprentice is to be paid wages or otherwise. If the contract is to pay wages, no deduction can be made owing to illness or accident, unless it has been so provided for in the indentures. Nor is the apprentice liable for breakages or similar faults. The master has been supposed to have a right to administer moderate corporal punishment, though he may not delegate it. But this right is really obsolete. According to old custom a master provided proper food for his apprentices, and medical attendance when required; but the modern practice is for apprentices to reside with their parents or friends who maintain them. A master cannot assign indentures without the approval of the apprentice or such parties as are named in the contract for this purpose, even if he should transfer his business. The contract of apprenticeship may be dissolved by (1) efflux of time; (2) by death (if the master dies, some part of the premium is usually returnable, but if the apprentice dies no part is returnable); (3) by consent; (4) in case of grave misconduct; (5) under the Bankruptcy Act 1883, providing for discharge of the indentures of apprenticeship and for payment on account of premium. Disputes between master and apprentice, in cases where no premium has been paid, or where the premium does not exceed £25, are dealt with by courts of summary jurisdiction. Apprentices bound according to the “custom of London,” who are infants above the age of fourteen years and under twenty-one and unmarried, are responsible upon covenants contained in indentures executed by them just as if they were of full age. The term of apprenticeship is usually not less than four years. Apprentices by the custom of London in agreements made at the Guildhall are subject to the jurisdiction of the chamberlain of London.

The apprenticeship contract is usually formed by indenture, but any properly written and signed document will work. The full consideration must be stated, and the document, whether or not a premium is paid, must be properly stamped, except for parish apprentices and those in maritime service (see Seamen, Laws Relating to). If a charity or organization is involved, it retains control of the indentures until the apprenticeship term is over, at which point the indenture should be canceled and returned to the apprentice. Anyone capable of making a contract can take on an apprentice, and there is no limit to the number of apprentices a master can have. Any person who is legally competent can enter into an apprenticeship, as long as they are over seven years old. However, since common law exempts them from contractual liability, it is common for the apprentice's family or friends to guarantee their service and good behavior during the apprenticeship. The apprentice's consent must be given by signing the indenture. No child under nine can be bound as a parish apprentice. The master has to teach the agreed-upon trade or trades; if the master practices two trades (that he agreed to teach) and stops one, the apprentice has grounds to dissolve the contract. An apprentice is not required to work on Sundays, but they may be expected to work on bank holidays. They cannot become a soldier voluntarily without their master's consent. It is common for the indenture to specify whether the apprentice will receive wages or not. If the contract involves paying wages, deductions cannot be made for illness or accidents unless explicitly stated in the indenture. The apprentice is also not liable for any breakages or similar mistakes. Traditionally, a master was thought to have the right to administer light corporal punishment, but this is now outdated. According to older customs, a master was responsible for providing proper food for apprentices and medical care when necessary; however, nowadays, apprentices typically live with their parents or friends who support them. A master cannot transfer the indentures without the apprentice's approval or the agreement of any parties named in the contract, even if they sell their business. The apprenticeship contract can end (1) when the time is up; (2) by death (if the master dies, part of the premium is usually refunded, but no part is refunded if the apprentice dies); (3) by mutual consent; (4) in cases of serious misconduct; (5) under the Bankruptcy Act 1883, which allows for the termination of apprenticeship indentures and for premium payments. Disputes between master and apprentice, where no premium has been paid or the premium is less than £25, are handled by summary courts. Apprentices bound under the "custom of London," who are between fourteen and twenty-one years old and unmarried, are held responsible under the covenants in the indentures they sign as if they were of full age. The term of apprenticeship is typically at least four years. Apprentices under the custom of London in agreements made at the Guildhall fall under the jurisdiction of the chamberlain of London.

Parish apprentices are those bound out by guardians of the poor in England. By the Poor Relief Act 1601, overseers of the poor were empowered, with the consent of two justices, to put out poor children as apprentices “where they shall be convenient.” Owing to the disinclination to receive such apprentices it became necessary to make the reception compulsory (1696), but this compulsion to receive them was abolished in 1844. Many statutes have been passed from time to time regulating the apprenticing of parish children, but it is now under the control of the Local Government Board, which issues rules specifying fully the manner in which such children are to be bound, assigned and maintained.

Parish apprentices are those placed by guardians of the poor in England. The Poor Relief Act 1601 allowed overseers of the poor, with the approval of two justices, to apprentice poor children “where it would be suitable.” Due to the reluctance to accept these apprentices, it became necessary to make their acceptance mandatory in 1696, but this mandatory acceptance was eliminated in 1844. Over the years, many laws have been enacted to regulate the apprenticeship of parish children, but it is now managed by the Local Government Board, which issues guidelines that clearly outline how these children should be bound, assigned, and cared for.

Authorities.—See E. Austin, Law Relating to Apprentices (1890); Addison, On Contracts (1905). For the state of apprenticeship in European countries, and, more particularly in France, see Apprentissage, enquête et documents (Paris, 1904, Conseil Supérieur du Travail, Ministère du Commerce, de l’Industrie, des Postes et des Télégraphes, session de 1902). See also the literature issued by the National Institution of Apprenticeship, London.

Authorities.—See E. Austin, Law Relating to Apprentices (1890); Addison, On Contracts (1905). For information about the state of apprenticeships in European countries, especially in France, check out Apprentissage, enquête et documents (Paris, 1904, Conseil Supérieur du Travail, Ministère du Commerce, de l’Industrie, des Postes et des Télégraphes, session de 1902). Also, refer to the publications from the National Institution of Apprenticeship, London.

(J. S. B.)

APPROPRIATION (from Lat. appropriare, to set aside), the act of setting apart and applying to a particular use to the exclusion of all other. In ecclesiastical law, appropriation is the perpetual annexation of an ecclesiastical benefice to the use of some spiritual corporation, either aggregate or sole. In the middle ages in England the custom grew up of the monasteries reserving to their own use the greater part of the tithes of their appropriated benefices, leaving only a small portion to their vicars in the parishes. On the dissolution of the monasteries these “great tithes” were often granted, with the monastic lands, to laymen, whose successors, known as “lay impropriators” or “lay rectors,” still hold them, the system being known as impropriation. Appropriation may be severed and the church become disappropriate, by the presentation of a clerk, properly instituted and inducted, or by the dissolution of the corporation possessing the benefice.

APPROPRIATION (from Latin appropriare, meaning to set aside), is the act of designating and using something for a specific purpose, excluding all others. In church law, appropriation refers to the permanent assignment of a church benefit to a specific spiritual organization, whether that organization has multiple members or is a single entity. During the Middle Ages in England, monasteries began to keep most of the tithes from their appropriated benefits for their own use, leaving only a small amount for their parish vicars. When the monasteries were dissolved, these “great tithes” were often granted, along with the monastic lands, to laypersons, whose successors, known as “lay impropriators” or “lay rectors,” still hold them; this system is referred to as impropriation. Appropriation can be undone, causing the church to become disappropriated, through the presentation of a qualified cleric who is properly established and inducted, or by the dissolution of the organization that holds the benefit.

In the law of debtor and creditor, appropriation of payments is the application of a particular payment for the purpose of paying a particular debt. When a creditor has two debts due to him from the same debtor on distinct accounts, the general law as to the appropriation of payments made by the debtor is that the debtor is entitled to apply the payments to such account as he thinks fit; solvitur in modum solventis. In default of appropriation by the debtor the creditor is entitled to determine the application of the sums paid, and may appropriate them even to the discharge of debts barred by the Statute of Limitations. In default of appropriation by either debtor or creditor, the law implies an appropriation of the earlier payments to the earlier debts.

In debtor and creditor law, appropriating payments means assigning a specific payment to settle a particular debt. When a creditor has two debts owed to them by the same debtor on separate accounts, the general rule is that the debtor can choose which account to apply their payments to; solvitur in modum solventis. If the debtor doesn't choose how to apply the payments, the creditor can decide where the money goes and can even apply it to debts that are time-barred by the Statute of Limitations. If neither the debtor nor the creditor specifies how to allocate the payments, the law assumes that earlier payments are applied to earlier debts.

In constitutional law, appropriation is the assignment of money for a special purpose. In the United Kingdom an Appropriation Bill is a bill passed at the end of each session of parliament, enumerating the money grants made during the session, and appropriating the various sums, as voted by committee of supply, to the various purposes for which it is to be applied. The United States constitution (art. I. § 9) says: “No money shall be drawn from the treasury, but in consequence of appropriations made by law.” Bills for appropriating money originate in the House of Representatives, but may be amended in the Senate.

In constitutional law, appropriation is the allocation of money for a specific purpose. In the United Kingdom, an Appropriation Bill is a bill passed at the end of each parliamentary session, detailing the financial grants made during that session and assigning the various amounts, as approved by the supply committee, to the different uses for which they are intended. The United States Constitution (art. I. § 9) states: “No money shall be drawn from the treasury, but in consequence of appropriations made by law.” Bills for appropriating money start in the House of Representatives but can be amended in the Senate.


APPURTENANCES (from late Lat. appertinentia, from appertinere, to appertain), a legal term for what belongs to and goes with something else, the accessories or things usually conjoined with the substantive matter in question.

APPURTENANCES (from late Lat. appertinentia, from appertinere, to belong), a legal term for what is associated with and accompanies something else, the accessories or items typically linked with the main subject in question.


APRAKSIN, THEDOR MATVYEEVICH (1671-1728), Russian soldier, began life as one of the pages of Tsar Theodore III., after whose death he served the little tsar Peter in the same capacity. The playfellowship of the two lads resulted in a lifelong friendship. In his twenty-first year Apraksin was appointed governor of Archangel, then the most important commercially of all the Russian provinces, and built ships capable of weathering storms, to the great delight of the tsar. He won his colonelcy at the siege of Azov (1696). In 1700 he was appointed chief of the admiralty, 230 in which post (from 1700 to 1706) his unusual technical ability was of great service. While Peter was combating Charles XII., Apraksin was constructing fleets, building fortresses and havens (Taganrog). In 1707 he was transferred to Moscow. In 1708 he was appointed commander-in-chief in Ingria, to defend the new capital against the Swedes, whom he utterly routed, besides capturing Viborg in Carelia. He held the chief command in the Black Sea during the campaign of the Pruth (1711), and in 1713 materially assisted the conquest of Finland by his operations from the side of the sea. In 1710-1720 he personally conducted the descents upon Sweden, ravaging that country mercilessly, and thus extorting the peace of Nystad, whereby she surrendered the best part of her Baltic provinces to Russia. For these great services he was made a senator and admiral-general of the empire. His last expedition was to Reval in 1726, to cover the town from an anticipated attack by the English government, with whom the relations of Russia at the beginning of the reign of Catharine I. were strained almost to breaking-point. Though frequently threatened with terrible penalties by Peter the Great for his incurable vice of peculation, Apraksin, nevertheless, contrived to save his head, though not his pocket, chiefly through the mediation of the good-natured empress, Catharine, who remained his friend to the last, and whom he assisted to place on the throne on the death of Peter. Apraksin was the most genial and kind-hearted of all Peter’s pupils. He is said to have never made an enemy. He died on the 10th of November 1728.

APRAKSIN, THEDOR MATVYEEVICH (1671-1728), was a Russian soldier who started out as a page for Tsar Theodore III. After Theodore's death, he served young Peter in the same role. The friendship that blossomed between the two boys lasted a lifetime. At the age of twenty-one, Apraksin was appointed governor of Archangel, the most commercially important Russian province at the time. He built ships designed to withstand storms, which greatly pleased the tsar. He achieved the rank of colonel during the siege of Azov in 1696. In 1700, he became the head of the admiralty, 230 where his exceptional technical skills proved invaluable from 1700 to 1706. While Peter was fighting against Charles XII., Apraksin was busy constructing fleets and building fortresses and harbors (Taganrog). In 1707, he was reassigned to Moscow, and in 1708 he took on the role of commander-in-chief in Ingria, where he successfully defended the new capital against the Swedes, defeating them decisively and capturing Viborg in Carelia. He held overall command in the Black Sea during the Pruth campaign in 1711. In 1713, he significantly aided the conquest of Finland through naval operations. Between 1710 and 1720, he led assaults on Sweden, devastating the country and forcing peace negotiations that resulted in the Treaty of Nystad, where Sweden ceded the majority of its Baltic territories to Russia. For these notable contributions, he was appointed as a senator and admiral-general of the empire. His final mission was to Reval in 1726, aimed at protecting the town from a potential attack by the English government, as Russia's relations with England were extremely tense at the start of Catherine I's reign. Although often threatened with severe punishment by Peter the Great for his persistent vice of corruption, Apraksin managed to avoid execution, though not financial consequences, largely thanks to the support of the friendly empress Catherine, who remained on his side until the end and whom he helped to ascend to the throne after Peter's death. Apraksin was known as one of Peter’s most cheerful and warm-hearted associates, and it is said he never made an enemy. He died on November 10, 1728.

See R. Nisbet Bain, The Pupils of Peter the Great (London, 1897).

See R. Nisbet Bain, The Pupils of Peter the Great (London, 1897).

(R. N. B.)

APRICOT (from the Lat. praecox, or praecoquus, ripened early, coquere, to cook, or ripen; the English form, formerly “apricock” and “abrecox,” comes through the Fr. abricot, from the Span. albaricoque, which was an adaptation of the Arabic al-burquk, itself a rendering of the late Gr. πρεκόκκια or πραικόκιον, adapted from the Latin; the derivation from in aprico cactus is a mere guess), the fruit of Prunus armeniaca, also called Armeniaca vulgaris. Under the former name it is regarded as a species of the genus to which the plums belong, the latter establishes it as a distinct genus of the natural order Rosaceae. The apricot is, like the plum, a stone fruit, cultivated generally throughout temperate regions, and used chiefly in the form of preserves and in tarts. The tree has long been cultivated in Armenia (hence the name Armeniaca); it is a native of north China and other parts of temperate Asia. It flowers very early in the season, and is a hardy tree, but the fruit will scarcely ripen in Britain unless the tree is trained against a wall. A great number of varieties of the apricot, as of most cultivated fruits, are distinguished by cultivators. The kernels of several varieties are edible, and in Egypt those of the Musch-Musch variety form a considerable article of commerce. The French liqueur Eau de noyaux is prepared from bitter apricot kernels. Large quantities of fruit are imported from France into the United Kingdom.

APRICOT (from the Latin praecox, or praecoquus, meaning ripened early, coquere, to cook, or ripen; the English version, once “apricock” and “abrecox,” comes via the French abricot, from the Spanish albaricoque, which adapted the Arabic al-burquk, itself derived from the late Greek πρεκόκκια or __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, adapted from the Latin; the link to in aprico cactus is just a guess), is the fruit of Prunus armeniaca, also known as Armeniaca vulgaris. Under the former name, it is seen as a species of the genus to which plums belong; the latter classifies it as a distinct genus in the natural order Rosaceae. The apricot, like the plum, is a stone fruit that is widely grown in temperate regions, mainly used for preserves and tarts. The tree has been cultivated in Armenia for a long time (hence the name Armeniaca); it originates from northern China and other temperate parts of Asia. It blooms very early in the season and is a hardy tree, but the fruit usually won’t ripen in Britain unless the tree is trained against a wall. Many varieties of the apricot, like most cultivated fruits, are recognized by growers. The kernels of several varieties are edible, and in Egypt, those from the Musch-Musch variety are a significant commercial product. The French liqueur Eau de noyaux is made from bitter apricot kernels. Large amounts of fruit are imported from France to the United Kingdom.

The apricot is propagated by budding on the mussel or common plum stock. The tree succeeds in good well-drained loamy soil, rather light than heavy. It is usually grown as a wall tree, the east and west aspects being preferred to the south, which induces mealiness in the fruit, though in Scotland the best aspects are necessary. The most usual and best mode of training is the fan method. The fruit is produced on shoots of the preceding year, and on small close spurs formed on the two-year-old wood. The trees should be planted about 20 ft. apart. The summer pruning should begin early in June, at which period all the irregular foreright and useless shoots are pinched off; and, shortly afterwards, those which remain are fastened to the wall. At the winter pruning all branches not duly furnished with spurs and fruit buds are removed. The young bearing shoots are moderately pruned at the points, care being, however, taken to leave a terminal shoot or leader to each branch. The most common error in the pruning of apricots is laying in the bearing shoots too thickly; the branches naturally diverge in fan training, and when they extend so as to be about 15 in. apart, a fresh branch should be laid in, to be again subdivided as required. The blossoms of the apricot open early in spring, but are more hardy than those of the peach; the same means of protection when necessary may be employed for both. If the fruit sets too numerously, it is thinned out in June and in the beginning of July, the later thinnings being used for tarts. In the south of England, where the soil is suitable, the hardier sorts of apricot, as the Breda and Brussels, bear well as standard trees in favourable seasons. In such cases the trees may be planted from 20 to 25 ft. apart.

The apricot is propagated by budding onto common plum rootstock. The tree thrives in well-drained, loamy soil, ideally light rather than heavy. It is typically grown as a wall tree, with east and west orientations preferred over south, as the latter can lead to mealy fruit, although in Scotland, the best orientations are crucial. The most common and effective training method is the fan shape. Fruit develops on shoots from the previous year and on small, close spurs that form on two-year-old wood. Trees should be planted about 20 feet apart. Summer pruning should start in early June, at which point all irregular and unproductive shoots are pinched off; shortly afterward, the remaining shoots are secured to the wall. During winter pruning, all branches that lack spurs and fruit buds are removed. Young bearing shoots are pruned moderately at the tips, ensuring that each branch has a terminal shoot or leader. A common mistake in pruning apricots is setting the bearing shoots too thickly; the branches naturally spread in fan training, and when they reach about 15 inches apart, a new branch should be added and later subdivided as needed. Apricot blossoms open early in spring but are hardier than peach blossoms; similar protective measures can be applied to both if necessary. If there are too many fruit set, they are thinned out in June and early July, with the later thinnings being used for tarts. In southern England, where the soil is suitable, hardier apricot varieties like Breda and Brussels can thrive well as standard trees in favorable conditions. In such cases, the trees may be planted 20 to 25 feet apart.

The ripening of the fruit of the apricot is accelerated by culture under glass, the trees being either planted out like peaches or grown in pots on the orchard-house system. They must be very gently excited, since they naturally bloom when the spring temperature is comparatively low. At first a maximum of 40° only must be permitted; after two or three weeks it may be raised to 45°, and later on to 50° and 55°, and thus continued till the trees are in flower, air being freely admitted, and the minimum or night temperature ranging from 40° to 45°. After the fruit is set the temperature should be gradually raised, being kept higher in clear weather than in dull. When the fruit has stoned, the temperature may be raised to 60° or 65° by day and 60° by night; and for ripening off it may be allowed to reach 70° or 80° by sun heat.

The ripening of apricot fruit is sped up by growing them in greenhouses. The trees can either be planted like peaches or grown in pots as part of the orchard-house method. They need to be stimulated gently since they naturally bloom when spring temperatures are relatively low. Initially, a maximum temperature of just 40°F should be allowed; after two or three weeks, it can be increased to 45°F, and later to 50°F and 55°F, continuing this way until the trees are in bloom, while allowing fresh air in and maintaining a minimum night temperature of 40°F to 45°F. Once the fruit sets, the temperature should be gradually increased, staying higher on clear days than on overcast ones. After the fruit has formed its pit, the temperature can go up to 60°F or 65°F during the day and 60°F at night; for ripening, it can even reach 70°F or 80°F due to sunlight.

The Moorpark is one of the best and most useful sorts in cultivation, and should be planted for all general purposes; the Peach is a very similar variety, not quite identical; and the Hemskerk is also similar, but hardier. The Large Early, which ripens in the end of July and beginning of August, and the Kaisha, a sweet-kernelled variety, which ripens in the middle of August, are also to be recommended. For standard trees in favourable localities the Breda and Brussels may be added.

The Moorpark is one of the best and most useful types to grow, and it should be planted for all general uses. The Peach is a very similar variety, though not exactly the same; and the Hemskerk is also similar but more resilient. The Large Early, which ripens at the end of July and the beginning of August, and the Kaisha, a sweet-kernel variety that ripens in mid-August, are also recommended. For standard trees in favorable locations, the Breda and Brussels can be added as well.


APRIES (Άπρίης), the name by which Herodotus (ii. 161) and Diodorus (i. 68) designate Uehabrē‛, Οὐαφρής (Pharaoh-Hophra), the fourth king (counting from Psammetichus I.) of the twenty-sixth Egyptian dynasty. He reigned from 589 to 570 B.C. See Egypt and Amasis.

APRIES (Απρίλιος), the name used by Herodotus (ii. 161) and Diodorus (i. 68) to refer to Uehabrē‛, Οὐαφρής (Pharaoh-Hophra), the fourth king (if you count from Psammetichus I.) of the twenty-sixth Egyptian dynasty. He ruled from 589 to 570 BCE See Egypt and Amasis.


APRIL, the second month of the ancient Roman, and the fourth of the modern calendar, containing thirty days. The derivation of the name is uncertain. The traditional etymology from Lat. aperire, “to open,” in allusion to its being the season when trees and flowers begin to “open,” is supported by comparison with the modern Greek use of ἅνοιξις (opening) for spring. This seems very possible, though, as all the Roman months were named in honour of divinities, and as April was sacred to Venus, the Festum Veneris et Fortunae Virilis being held on the first day, it has been suggested that Aprilis was originally her month Aphrilis, from her Greek name Aphrodite. Jacob Grimm suggests the name of a hypothetical god or hero, Aper or Aprus. On the fourth and the five following days, games (Ludi Megalenses) were celebrated in honour of Cybele; on the fifth there was the Festum Fortunae Publicae; on the tenth (?) games in the circus, and on the nineteenth equestrian combats, in honour of Ceres; on the twenty-first—which was regarded as the birthday of Rome—the Vinalia urbana, when the wine of the previous autumn was first tasted; on the twenty-fifth, the Robigalia, for the averting of mildew; and on the twenty-eighth and four following days, the riotous Floralia. The Anglo-Saxons called April Oster-monath or Eostur-monath, the period sacred to Eostre or Ostara, the pagan Saxon goddess of spring, from whose name is derived the modern Easter. St George’s day is the twenty-third of the month; and St Mark’s Eve, with its superstition that the ghosts of those who are doomed to die within the year will be seen to pass into the church, falls on the twenty-fourth. In China the symbolical ploughing of the earth by the emperor and princes of the blood takes place in their third month, which frequently corresponds to our April; and in Japan the feast of Dolls is celebrated in the same month. The “days of April” (journées d’avril) is a name appropriated in French history to a series of insurrections at Lyons, Paris and elsewhere, against the government of Louis Philippe in 1834, which led to violent repressive measures, and to a famous trial known as the procès d’avril.

APRIL, is the second month of the ancient Roman calendar and the fourth in the modern calendar, with thirty days. The origin of the name is unclear. The common belief that it comes from Lat. aperire, meaning “to open,” refers to the season when trees and flowers start to “open,” and is backed by the modern Greek use of spring (opening) for spring. This seems quite plausible, as all Roman months were named after gods, and since April was dedicated to Venus, with the Festum Veneris et Fortunae Virilis celebrated on the first day, it has been suggested that Aprilis was originally called Aphrilis, from her Greek name Aphrodite. Jacob Grimm proposes that it might stem from a fictional god or hero, Aper or Aprus. For the first four days and the five days that followed, games (Ludi Megalenses) were held in honor of Cybele; on the fifth was the Festum Fortunae Publicae; on the tenth (?), there were games in the circus, and on the nineteenth, equestrian contests in honor of Ceres; on the twenty-first—which was considered the birthday of Rome—there was the Vinalia urbana, celebrating the first tasting of the wine from the previous autumn; on the twenty-fifth, the Robigalia occurred to ward off mildew; and from the twenty-eighth onward for four days, the lively Floralia took place. The Anglo-Saxons referred to April as Oster-monath or Eostur-monath, named after Eostre or Ostara, the pagan Saxon goddess of spring, which is where the modern word Easter comes from. St. George’s Day is on the twenty-third of the month; St. Mark’s Eve, associated with the belief that the spirits of those who will die within the year will be seen entering the church, falls on the twenty-fourth. In China, the ceremonial plowing of the earth by the emperor and royal family occurs in their third month, often corresponding to our April; and in Japan, the Doll Festival is celebrated in the same month. The “days of April” (journées d’avril) refer in French history to a series of uprisings in Lyons, Paris, and elsewhere against Louis Philippe’s government in 1834, which led to harsh repressive actions and a famous trial known as the procès d’avril.

See Chambers’s Book of Days; Grimm’s Geschichte der deutschen Sprache. Cap. “Monate”; also April-fools’ Day.

See Chambers’s Book of Days; Grimm’s Geschichte der deutschen Sprache. Cap. “Monate”; also April-fools’ Day.


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APRIL-FOOLS’ DAY, or All-Fools’ Day, the name given to the 1st of April in allusion to the custom of playing practical jokes on friends and neighbours on that day, or sending them on fools’ errands. The origin of this custom has been much disputed, and many ludicrous solutions have been suggested, e.g. that it is a farcical commemoration of Christ being sent from Annas to Caiaphas, from Caiaphas to Pilate, from Pilate to Herod, and from Herod back again to Pilate, the crucifixion having taken place about the 1st of April. What seems certain is that it is in some way or other a relic of those once universal festivities held at the vernal equinox, which, beginning on old New Year’s day, the 25th of March, ended on the 1st of April. This view gains support from the fact that the exact counterpart of April-fooling is found to have been an immemorial custom in India. The festival of the spring equinox is there termed the feast of Huli, the last day of which is the 31st of March, upon which the chief amusement is the befooling of people by sending them on fruitless errands. It has been plausibly suggested that Europe derived its April-fooling from the French. They were the first nation to adopt the reformed calendar, Charles IX. in 1564 decreeing that the year should begin with the 1st of January. Thus the New Year’s gifts and visits of felicitation which had been the feature of the 1st of April became associated with the first day of January, and those who disliked the change were fair butts for those wits who amused themselves by sending mock presents and paying calls of pretended ceremony on the 1st of April. Though the 1st of April appears to have been anciently observed in Great Britain as a general festival, it was apparently not until the beginning of the 18th century that the making of April-fools was a common custom. In Scotland the custom was known as “hunting the gowk,” i.e. the cuckoo, and April-fools were “April-gowks,” the cuckoo being there, as it is in most lands, a term of contempt. In France the person befooled is known as poisson d’avril. This has been explained from the association of ideas arising from the fact that in April the sun quits the zodiacal sign of the fish. A far more natural explanation would seem to be that the April fish would be a young fish and therefore easily caught.

April Fools' Day, or April Fools' Day, refers to the 1st of April, a day dedicated to playing practical jokes on friends and neighbors or sending them on pointless errands. The origin of this tradition is highly debated, with many silly explanations suggested, such as it symbolizing the way Christ was shuffled from Annas to Caiaphas, from Caiaphas to Pilate, from Pilate to Herod, and back to Pilate, as the crucifixion happened around the 1st of April. What seems clear is that it is somehow a remnant of the once widespread celebrations held at the spring equinox, which kicked off on the old New Year’s day of March 25th and wrapped up on April 1st. This idea is supported by the fact that a similar tradition of playing pranks is an ancient custom in India. The spring equinox festival there is called the feast of Huli, and the last day, March 31st, is marked by the entertainment of pranking people by sending them on fruitless errands. It's been suggested that Europe got its April Fool's tradition from the French, who were the first to adopt the reformed calendar; Charles IX declared in 1564 that the year should start on January 1st. Thus, the New Year’s gifts and greetings that used to happen on April 1st became tied to January 1st, and those who were against the change became easy targets for wits who enjoyed sending fake gifts and making phony visits on April 1st. Although April 1st seems to have been celebrated in Great Britain as a general festival for a long time, it was not until the early 18th century that making April fools became a common practice. In Scotland, this custom was known as “hunting the gowk,” meaning the cuckoo, and April fools were referred to as “April-gowks,” the cuckoo being, as it is in many cultures, a term of mockery. In France, the person who gets pranked is called poisson d’avril. This has been explained by its connection to the fact that in April, the sun moves away from the zodiac sign of Pisces. A more straightforward explanation seems to be that the April fish would be a young fish and easier to catch.


A PRIORI (Lat. a, from, prior, prius, that which is before, precedes), (1) a phrase used popularly of a judgment based on general considerations in the absence of particular evidence; (2) a logical term first used, apparently, by Albert of Saxony (14th century), though the theory which it denotes is as old as Aristotle. In the order of human knowledge the particular facts of experience come first and are the basis of generalized laws or causes (the Scholastic notiora nobis); but in the order of nature the latter rank first as the self-existent, fundamental truths of existence (notiora naturae). Thus to Aristotle the a priori argument is from law or cause to effect, as opposed to what we call a posteriori (posterior, subsequent, derived), from effect to cause. Since Kant the two phrases have become purely adjectival (instead of adverbial) with a technical controversial sense, closely allied to the Aristotelian, in relation to knowledge and judgments generally. A priori is applied to judgments which are regarded as independent of experience, and belonging to the essence of thought; a posteriori to those which are derived from particular observations. The distinction is analogous to that between analysis and synthesis, deduction and induction (but there may be a synthesis of a priori judgments, cf. Kant’s “Synthetic Judgment a priori”). Round this distinction a rather barren controversy has raged, and almost all modern philosophers have labelled themselves either “Intuitionalist” (a priori) or “Empiricist” (a posteriori) according to the view they take of knowledge. In fact, however, the rival schools are generally arguing at cross purposes; there is a knowledge based on particulars, and also a knowledge of laws or causes. But the two work in different spheres, and are complementary. The observation of isolated particulars gives not necessity, but merely strong probability; necessity is purely intellectual or “transcendental.” If the empiricist denies the intellectual element in scientific knowledge, he must not claim absolute validity for his conclusions; but he may hold against the intuitionalist that absolute laws are impossible to the human intellect. On the other hand, pure a priori knowledge can be nothing more than form without content (e.g. formal logic, the laws of thought). The simple fact at the bottom of the controversy is that in all empirical knowledge there is an intellectual element, without which there is no correlation of empirical data, and every judgment, however simple, postulates a correlation of some sort if only that between the predicate and its contradictory.

A PRIORI (Lat. a, from, prior, prius, meaning what comes first, precedes), (1) a phrase commonly used to refer to a judgment that is based on general considerations without specific evidence; (2) a logical term that seems to have first been used by Albert of Saxony in the 14th century, although the theory it describes dates back to Aristotle. In the realm of human knowledge, specific facts from experience come first and serve as the foundation for general laws or causes (the Scholastic notiora nobis); however, in the order of nature, these laws are seen as self-existent, fundamental truths of existence (notiora naturae). For Aristotle, the a priori argument moves from law or cause to effect, contrasting with what we call a posteriori (posterior, subsequent, derived), which moves from effect to cause. Since Kant, the two phrases have taken on purely adjectival meanings (rather than adverbial) with a technical controversial sense that is closely tied to the Aristotelian view of knowledge and judgments overall. A priori refers to judgments considered independent of experience and inherent to the essence of thought; a posteriori applies to those derived from specific observations. This distinction is similar to that between analysis and synthesis, deduction and induction (though there can be a synthesis of a priori judgments, see Kant’s “Synthetic Judgment a priori”). A rather fruitless debate has surrounded this distinction, and almost all modern philosophers have identified as either “Intuitionalist” (a priori) or “Empiricist” (a posteriori) based on their views on knowledge. In reality, however, these opposing schools often argue past one another; there exists knowledge founded on specifics, as well as knowledge of laws or causes. Yet, these two types of knowledge operate in different realms and are complementary. Observing isolated specifics provides strong probability, but not necessity; necessity is purely intellectual or “transcendental.” If the empiricist rejects the intellectual aspect of scientific knowledge, they cannot assert that their conclusions hold absolute validity; however, they can argue to the intuitionalist that absolute laws are unattainable for the human mind. Conversely, pure a priori knowledge can be nothing but form without content (e.g. formal logic, the laws of thought). The core issue in this debate is that all empirical knowledge contains an intellectual component; without it, there is no connection between empirical data, and every judgment, no matter how simple, assumes some form of correlation, even if it's just between the predicate and its opposite.


APRON (a corruption arising from a wrong division of “a napron” into “an apron,” from the Fr. naperon, napperon, a diminutive of nappe, Lat. mappa, a napkin), an article of costume used to protect the front of the clothes. It forms part of the ceremonial dress of Freemasons. The “apron” worn by church dignitaries is a shortened cassock (q.v.). The word has many technical uses, as for the protecting slope in front of the sill of dock-gates, or at the foot of weirs.

APRON (a term that evolved from mistakenly dividing “a napron” into “an apron,” from the French naperon, napperon, a small version of nappe, which comes from Latin mappa, meaning napkin), is a piece of clothing used to protect the front of one’s attire. It is part of the formal dress for Freemasons. The “apron” worn by church officials is a shortened version of the cassock (q.v.). The word has various technical meanings, such as the protective slope in front of the opening of dock gates or at the base of weirs.


APSARAS, in Hindu mythology, a female spirit of the clouds and waters. In the Rig-Veda there is one Apsaras, wife of Gandharva; in the later scriptures there are many Apsaras who act as the handmaidens of Indra and dance before his throne. They are able to change their form, and specially rule over the fortunes of gaming. One of their duties is to guide to paradise the heroes who fall in battle, whose wives they then become. They are distinguished as daivika (“divine”) or laukika (“worldly”).

APSARAS, in Hindu mythology, are female spirits of the clouds and waters. In the Rig-Veda, there is one Apsara who is the wife of a Gandharva; in later scriptures, there are many Apsaras who serve as the handmaidens of Indra and dance in front of his throne. They can change their appearance and particularly have control over the outcomes of gambling. One of their roles is to guide fallen heroes to paradise, where they then become their wives. They are classified as daivika (“divine”) or laukika (“worldly”).


APSE (Gr. ἁψίς, a fastening, especially the felloe of a wheel; Lat. absis), in architecture, a semicircular recess covered with a hemispherical vault. The term is applied also to the termination to the choir, transept or aisle of any church which is either semicircular or polygonal in plan, whether vaulted or covered with a timber roof; a church is said to be “apsidal” when it terminates in an apse.

APSE (Gr. ἁψίς, a fastening, especially the felloe of a wheel; Lat. absis), in architecture, refers to a semicircular recess topped with a hemispherical vault. The term is also used to describe the end of the choir, transept, or aisle of any church that is either semicircular or polygonal in shape, whether it has a vaulted roof or is covered with timber; a church is called “apsidal” when it ends in an apse.

The earliest example of an apse is found in the temple of Mars Ultor at Rome (2 B.C.), and it formed afterwards the favourite feature terminating the rear of any temple, and one which gave importance to the statue of the deity to whom the temple was dedicated. Its use by the Romans was not confined to the temples, as it is found in the palaces on the Palatine Hill, the great Thermae (Baths) and other monuments. In the civil basilicas the apse was screened off by columns, and constituted the court of justice. In the Ulpian (Trajan’s) Basilica the apses at each end were of such great dimensions as to come better under the definition of hemicycles (q.v.). In these apses the floor was raised, and had an altar placed in the centre of its chord, where sacrifices were made prior to the sittings. The only other two Roman basilicas in which the semicircular apse can still be traced are that commenced by Maxentius and completed by Constantine at Rome and the basilica at Trier (Trèves).

The earliest example of an apse is found in the temple of Mars Ultor in Rome (2 B.C.), and it later became a popular feature at the back of any temple, giving significance to the statue of the deity to whom the temple was dedicated. The Romans used it not just in temples; it also appeared in palaces on the Palatine Hill, the grand baths, and other monuments. In civil basilicas, the apse was separated by columns and served as the courtroom. In the Ulpian (Trajan’s) Basilica, the apses at either end were so large that they fit better under the definition of hemicycles (q.v.). In these apses, the floor was raised, with an altar placed in the center of its chord, where sacrifices were made before the sessions. The only other two Roman basilicas where the semicircular apse can still be identified are the one started by Maxentius and finished by Constantine in Rome and the basilica at Trier (Trèves).

In the earliest Christian basilica, St Peter’s at Rome, built 330 A.D., the apse, 57 ft. in diameter, raised above the confessio or crypt, was placed at the west end of the church. This orientation was originally followed in the churches of St Paul and St Lawrence (S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura), both outside the walls of Rome, and is found in most of the churches at Rome. On the other hand, in the Byzantine church, the apse was built at the east end of the church.

In the earliest Christian basilica, St. Peter’s in Rome, built in 330 A.D., the apse, which is 57 ft. in diameter, was raised above the confessio or crypt and was located at the west end of the church. This arrangement was initially followed in the churches of St. Paul and St. Lawrence (S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura), both located outside the walls of Rome, and can be seen in most churches in Rome. Conversely, in the Byzantine church, the apse was placed at the east end of the building.

During the reign of Justin the Second (A.D. 565-574), owing to a change in the liturgy, two more apses were added, one on each side of the central apse. These in the Greek Church were provided not to hold altars but for ceremonial purposes. One of the earliest examples is found in the church of St Nicholas at Myra of the 6th century, and the basilica erected in the great court of the temple at Baalbek shows the triple apse. The earliest example in Rome is found in the church of Sta Maria in Cosmedin (772-795), built probably by Greek craftsmen, who had been exiled by the Iconoclasts. Other triapsal choirs are found in the cathedral of Parenzo (542 A.D.), in St Mark’s, Venice, in Sta Fosca and the Duomo at Torcello, and in numerous examples throughout Italy and Germany. In central Syria there is one example only, at Kalat Seman, where the side apses were a later addition.

During the reign of Justin the Second (CE 565-574), due to a change in the liturgy, two more apses were added, one on each side of the central apse. In the Greek Church, these were not meant to hold altars but were for ceremonial purposes. One of the earliest examples can be seen in the church of St Nicholas at Myra from the 6th century, and the basilica built in the great court of the temple at Baalbek features the triple apse. The earliest example in Rome is in the church of Sta Maria in Cosmedin (772-795), likely constructed by Greek craftsmen who were exiled by the Iconoclasts. Other triapsal choirs can be found in the cathedral of Parenzo (542 CE), in St Mark’s, Venice, in Sta Fosca, and the Duomo at Torcello, as well as in many examples across Italy and Germany. In central Syria, there is only one example, at Kalat Seman, where the side apses were added later.

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There is one important distinction to be drawn between the Byzantine and the Latin apses; they are both semicircular internally, but externally the former are nearly always polygonal. It follows, therefore, that in those churches in Italy where the apse is polygonal externally, it is a sign of direct Byzantine influence. This is found in St Mark’s, Venice; Sta Fosca, Torcello; Murano; nearly all the churches at Ravenna; and in the Crusaders’ churches throughout Syria.

There is one important difference to note between the Byzantine and Latin apses; they are both semicircular on the inside, but on the outside, Byzantine apses are almost always polygonal. Therefore, in those churches in Italy where the apse is polygonal on the outside, it indicates a direct Byzantine influence. This can be seen in St Mark’s in Venice; Sta Fosca in Torcello; Murano; nearly all the churches in Ravenna; and in the Crusaders’ churches across Syria.

Apse of the White Monastery.

In the Coptic church in Egypt we find other characteristics; in the churches of the Red and White Monasteries, attributed to St Helena, an unusual depth is given to the apse, in the walls of which niches are sunk; in the church of St John at Antinoë there are no fewer than seven. Similar niches are found in the apses of St Mark’s, Venice, built in A.D. 828, it is said in imitation of St Mark’s in Alexandria, to receive the relics of St Mark brought over from there.

In the Coptic church in Egypt, we see some distinct features. In the churches of the Red and White Monasteries, which are attributed to St. Helena, the apse is given an unusual depth, with niches cut into the walls. In the church of St. John at Antinoë, there are at least seven of these niches. Similar niches can be found in the apses of St. Mark’s in Venice, built in CE 828, said to be in imitation of St. Mark’s in Alexandria, designed to hold the relics of St. Mark brought over from there.

In a large number of the apses in the Coptic churches the seats round the apse with the bishop’s throne in the centre are still preserved; of these the best examples are at Abu Sargah, Al ‛Adra and Abu-s-Sifain. Unfortunately there are no remains of the fittings in the tribunes of the ancient Roman basilicas, but those in St Peter’s at Rome, which were probably copied from them, are recorded in drawings, there being two or three rows of stone seats with the papal throne in the centre. It is possible also that some may still exist in the other early Christian basilicas at Rome, but there have been so many changes that it is not possible to trace them. In the cathedral of Parenzo in Istria (A.D. 532-535), the hemicycle of marble seats for the clergy with the episcopal chair in the centre still exists. A similar arrangement is found in the apse of the church of the 6th century attached to the church of St Helena in the island of Paros, where there are eight steep grades of semicircular stone seats with the bishop’s chair in the centre. The aspect of the interior of this apse has in consequence very much the appearance of a Roman theatre. A third example, better known, exists at Torcello, with six concentric seats rising one above the other, and in the centre the episcopal chair with a flight of thirteen steps down in front of it.

In many Coptic churches, the seating that lines the apse, with the bishop’s throne at the center, has been well preserved; some of the best examples are at Abu Sargah, Al ‛Adra, and Abu-s-Sifain. Unfortunately, there are no remains of the furnishings in the tribunes of ancient Roman basilicas, but those in St. Peter’s in Rome, which were likely modeled after them, are documented in drawings. These show two or three rows of stone seats with the papal throne in the middle. It’s also possible that some may still be found in other early Christian basilicas in Rome, but there have been so many alterations that tracing them is difficult. In the cathedral of Parenzo in Istria (A.D. 532-535), the semicircle of marble seats for the clergy, with the episcopal chair in the center, is still intact. A similar setup is present in the apse of the 6th-century church linked to St. Helena’s church on the island of Paros, featuring eight steep tiers of semicircular stone seats with the bishop’s chair at the center. As a result, the interior of this apse resembles a Roman theater. A third, more well-known example exists at Torcello, with six concentric seats rising above one another and the episcopal chair at the center, accessible by a flight of thirteen steps.

In the basilica at Bethlehem, the east end of which was reconstructed probably in the 5th century, apses of similar dimensions to the eastern apse were built at the north and south end of the transept. The same disposition is found in the Coptic churches of the Red and White Monasteries just referred to, in the church of St Elias at Salonica (c. 1012), the cathedral of Echmiadzin in Armenia, at Vatopedi, Mt. Athos, and some other Byzantine churches. An early example in France exists in the church of Germigny-des-Prés on the Loire (806; rebuilt 1868), where the three apses are horseshoe on plan, and the same is found in the church at Oberzell in the island of Reichenau, Lake of Constance, except that the eastern apse there is square. Small examples also are found at Querqueville and at St Wandrille near Caudebec, both in Normandy, but the finest development takes place in the church of St Maria im Capitol at Cologne, where the aisles are carried round both the northern and southern apses. The same feature exists in the cathedral of Tournai in Belgium and the churches at Cambrai, Soissons and Valenciennes (the last destroyed at the Revolution) in France, and also in the cathedrals of Como and of Pisa in Italy. Without aisles, there are examples in the churches of the Apostles and of St Martin at Cologne; St Quirinus at Neuss; at Roermond; St Cross, Breslau; the cathedral of Bonn; and, at a later date, in the Marienkirche at Trier; S. Elizabeth at Marburg; the church of Sta Maria-del-Fiore at Florence; and the cathedral of Parma.

In the basilica at Bethlehem, the east end was likely rebuilt in the 5th century, with apses similar in size to the eastern apse constructed at both the north and south ends of the transept. This same layout can be seen in the Coptic churches of the Red and White Monasteries just mentioned, in the church of St Elias at Salonica (c. 1012), the cathedral of Echmiadzin in Armenia, at Vatopedi on Mt. Athos, and various other Byzantine churches. An early example in France is found in the church of Germigny-des-Prés on the Loire (806; rebuilt 1868), where the three apses have a horseshoe shape, and a similar design is present in the church at Oberzell on the island of Reichenau, Lake Constance, except the eastern apse there is square. Smaller examples can also be seen at Querqueville and St Wandrille near Caudebec, both in Normandy, but the best development occurs in the church of St Maria im Capitol in Cologne, where the aisles wrap around both the northern and southern apses. This feature is also present in the cathedral of Tournai in Belgium and the churches in Cambrai, Soissons, and Valenciennes (the last of which was destroyed during the Revolution) in France, as well as in the cathedrals of Como and Pisa in Italy. Without aisles, examples can be found in the churches of the Apostles and St Martin in Cologne; St Quirinus in Neuss; in Roermond; St Cross in Breslau; the cathedral of Bonn; and later in the Marienkirche in Trier; St Elizabeth in Marburg; the church of Sta Maria-del-Fiore in Florence; and the cathedral of Parma.

In consequence of a change made in the orientation of apses in the 6th or 7th century, others were subsequently added at the west end of existing churches, and this is considered to have been the case at Canterbury; but in the German churches sometimes apses were built from the first at both ends, such as are shown on the manuscript plan of St Gall, of the 9th century. Western apses exist at Gernrode; Drübeck; Huyseburg; the Obermünster of Regensburg; St Godehard in Hildesheim; the cathedrals of Worms and Trier; the Abbey church of Laach; the Minster at Bonn; and in St Pietro-in-Grado near Pisa.

Due to a change in the orientation of apses in the 6th or 7th century, additional ones were later added to the west end of existing churches, which is believed to have happened in Canterbury. However, in German churches, some apses were built at both ends from the beginning, as shown in the 9th-century manuscript plan of St Gall. Western apses can be found at Gernrode, Drübeck, Huyseburg, the Obermünster of Regensburg, St Godehard in Hildesheim, the cathedrals of Worms and Trier, the Abbey church of Laach, the Minster at Bonn, and St Pietro-in-Grado near Pisa.

The triapsal churches, to which we have referred, are those in which the side apses form the termination of the side aisles; but where there are transepts, the aisles are sometimes not continued beyond them, and the expansion of the transept to north and south gives more ample space for apses; of these there are many examples, as in the Abbey church of Laach in Germany; at Romsey; Christchurch, Hants; Gloucester, Ely, Norwich and Canterbury cathedrals, in England; and at St Georges de Boscherville in France; sometimes there being space for two apses on each side.

The triapsal churches we've mentioned are those where the side apses end the side aisles. However, when there are transepts, the aisles don't always continue past them, and the extension of the transept to the north and south creates more room for apses. There are many examples of this, like the Abbey Church of Laach in Germany, as well as churches in Romsey, Christchurch in Hants, and the cathedrals of Gloucester, Ely, Norwich, and Canterbury in England, and at St. Georges de Boscherville in France, where sometimes there’s space for two apses on each side.

In the beginning of the 13th century in France, the apses became radiating chapels outside the choir aisle, henceforth known as the chevet. These radiating chapels would seem to have been suggested in Norwich and Canterbury cathedrals, but the feature is essentially a French one and in England is found only in Westminster Abbey, into which it was introduced by Henry III., to whom the chevets of Amiens, Beauvais and Reims were probably well known.

In the early 13th century in France, the apses evolved into radiating chapels outside the choir aisle, known as the chevet. These radiating chapels seem to have been inspired by the cathedrals in Norwich and Canterbury, but the feature is primarily French and is only found in England at Westminster Abbey, which Henry III introduced. He likely knew the chevets of Amiens, Beauvais, and Reims well.

(R. P. S.)

APSE and APSIDES, in mechanics, either of the two points of an orbit which are nearest to and farthest from the centre of motion. They are called the lower or nearer, and the higher or more distant apsides respectively. The “line of apsides” is that which joins them, forming the major axis of the orbit.

APSE and APSIDES, in mechanics, refer to the two points in an orbit that are closest to and farthest from the center of motion. They are known as the lower or nearer apsis and the higher or more distant apsis, respectively. The "line of apsides" connects these two points, creating the major axis of the orbit.


APSINES of Gadara, a Greek rhetorician, who flourished during the 3rd century A.D. After studying at Smyrna, he taught at Athens, and gained such a reputation that he was raised to the consulship by the emperor Maximinus (235-238). He was the friend of Philostratus, the author of the Lives of the Sophists, who speaks of his wonderful memory and accuracy. Two rhetorical treatises by him are extant: Τέχνη ῥητορική, a handbook of rhetoric greatly interpolated, a considerable portion being taken from the Rhetoric of Longinus; and a smaller work, Περὶ ἐσχηματισμένων προβλημάτων, on Propositions maintained figuratively.

APSINES of Gadara, a Greek rhetorician, who thrived during the 3rd century CE After studying in Smyrna, he taught in Athens and gained such a reputation that he was appointed consul by Emperor Maximinus (235-238). He was a friend of Philostratus, the author of the Lives of the Sophists, who praised his incredible memory and precision. Two of his rhetorical works remain: Art of rhetoric, a highly edited rhetoric handbook that incorporates a significant portion of Longinus's Rhetoric; and a smaller work, About formed problems, which discusses propositions maintained figuratively.

Editions by Bake, 1849; Spengel-Hammer in Rhetores Graeci, ii. (1894): see also Hammer, De Apsine Rhetore (1876); Volkmann, Rhetorik der Griechen und Romer (1885).

Editions by Bake, 1849; Spengel-Hammer in Rhetores Graeci, ii. (1894): see also Hammer, De Apsine Rhetore (1876); Volkmann, Rhetorik der Griechen und Romer (1885).


APT, a town of south-eastern France, in the department of Vaucluse, on the left bank of the Coulon, 41 m. E. of Avignon by rail. Pop. (1906) 4990. The town was formerly surrounded by massive ancient walls, but these have now been for the most part replaced by boulevards; many of its streets are narrow and irregular. The chief object of interest is the church of Sainte-Anne (once the cathedral), the building of which was begun about the year 1056 on the site of a much older edifice, but not completed until the latter half of the 17th century. Many Roman remains have been found in and near the town. A fine bridge, the Pont Julien, spanning the Coulon below the town, dates from the 2nd or 3rd century. A tribunal of first instance and a communal college are the chief public institutions. The chief manufactures are silk, confectionery and earthenware; and there is besides a considerable trade in fruit, grain and cattle. Apt was at one time the chief town of the Vulgientes, a Gallic tribe; it was destroyed by the Romans about 125 B.C. and restored by Julius Caesar, who conferred upon it the title Apta Julia; it was much injured by the Lombards and the Saracens, but its fortifications were rebuilt by the counts of Provence. The bishopric, founded in the 3rd century, was suppressed in 1790.

APT, a town in southeastern France, located in the Vaucluse department, lies on the left bank of the Coulon, 41 miles east of Avignon by rail. Population (1906) was 4,990. The town used to be surrounded by large ancient walls, but most of these have been replaced by boulevards; many of its streets are narrow and irregular. The main point of interest is the church of Sainte-Anne (formerly the cathedral), which began construction around 1056 on the site of an older building but wasn’t completed until the latter half of the 17th century. Numerous Roman remains have been discovered in and around the town. A beautiful bridge, the Pont Julien, crosses the Coulon just below the town, dating back to the 2nd or 3rd century. The main public institutions include a first-instance tribunal and a communal college. The primary industries are silk, confectionery, and pottery; there is also a significant trade in fruit, grain, and livestock. Apt was once the main town of the Vulgientes, a Gallic tribe; it was destroyed by the Romans around 125 B.C. and later restored by Julius Caesar, who named it Apta Julia; it suffered considerable damage from the Lombards and the Saracens, but its fortifications were rebuilt by the counts of Provence. The bishopric, established in the 3rd century, was abolished in 1790.


APTERA (Greek for “wingless”), a term in zoological classification applied by Linnaeus to various groups of wingless arthropods, including some of the insects, the centipedes, the millipedes, the Arachnida (scorpions, spiders, &c.) and the Crustacea. In 233 modern zoology the term has become restricted to the lowest order of the class Hexapoda or true insects. This order includes the bristle-tails and the springtails.

APTERA (Greek for “wingless”) is a term in zoological classification that Linnaeus used for various groups of wingless arthropods, such as some insects, centipedes, millipedes, arachnids (like scorpions and spiders), and crustaceans. In 233 modern zoology, the term has been narrowed down to refer specifically to the lowest order of the class Hexapoda, also known as true insects. This order includes bristletails and springtails.

From Knowledge.
Fig. 1.—A typical Thysanuran (Machilus maritima). Female, ventral view.

Mx1, Mx2, 1st and 2nd maxillae.

Mx1, Mx2, first and second maxillae.

ii.-x., Appendages on 2nd to 10th abdominal segments. The eversible sacs on the abdominal segments are shown, some protruded and some retracted.

ii.-x., Appendages on the 2nd to 10th abdominal segments. The eversible sacs on the abdominal segments are displayed, with some extended and others retracted.

Ovp, Ovipositor.

Ovipositor.

Mn, Mandible, and Mxl, maxillula, dissected out of head.

Mn, mandible, and Mxl, maxillula, taken out of the head.

Many wingless insects—such as lice, fleas and certain earwigs and cockroaches—are placed in various orders together with winged insects to which they show evident relationships. In such cases the absence of wings must be regarded as secondary—due to a parasitic or other special manner of life. But the bristle-tails and springtails, which form the modern order Aptera, are all without any trace of wings, and, on account of several remarkable archaic characters which they exhibit, there is reason for believing that they are primitively wingless—that they represent an early offshoot which sprang from the ancestral stock of the Hexapoda before organs of flight had been acquired by the class.

Many wingless insects—like lice, fleas, and certain earwigs and cockroaches—are grouped with winged insects that show clear relationships to them. In these cases, the lack of wings is seen as a secondary trait, resulting from a parasitic lifestyle or some other specialized way of living. However, bristletails and springtails, which make up the modern order Aptera, have no signs of wings at all. Due to several notable ancient traits they display, there’s reason to believe they are originally wingless and represent an early offshoot that emerged from the ancestral lineage of Hexapoda before flight organs had developed in the class.

Characters.—In addition to the complete absence of wings and of metamorphosis, the Aptera are characterized by peculiar elongate mandibles (figs. 1, Mn.; 2, 4), with toothed apex and sub-apical grinding surface, like those of certain Crustacea; by the presence between the mandibles and maxillae of a pair of appendages (superlinguae or maxillulae), fig. 1, Mxl., which are absent or vestigial in all other insects; and, in most genera, by the presence in the adult of abdominal appendages used for locomotion, these latter varying in number from one to nine pairs. Among peculiarities of the internal organs the segmental arrangement of the ovaries in most members of the order is noteworthy. Many Aptera are covered with flattened scales like those of moths.

Characters.—In addition to having no wings and not undergoing metamorphosis, the Aptera are identified by their distinctive elongated mandibles (figs. 1, Mn.; 2, 4), which have a toothed tip and a grinding surface just below the tip, similar to those of certain Crustacea. They also have a pair of appendages (superlinguae or maxillulae) located between the mandibles and maxillae (fig. 1, Mxl.), which are either absent or very small in all other insects. In most genera, adult Aptera possess abdominal appendages used for movement, with the number of these appendages ranging from one to nine pairs. One notable feature of the internal organs is the segmental arrangement of the ovaries found in most members of this order. Many Aptera are covered in flattened scales resembling those of moths.

Classification.—The Aptera are divided into two divergent sub-orders, the Thysanura (q.v.) or bristle-tails, and the Collembola or springtails.

Classification.—The Aptera are divided into two distinct sub-orders, the Thysanura (q.v.) or bristletails, and the Collembola or springtails.

Thysanura.—The bristle-tails have an abdomen of eleven segments, the tenth usually carrying a pair of long many-jointed tail-feelers (cerci, fig. 1, x.); sometimes a median, jointed tail-appendage is also present. To these feelers the popular name is due. There may also be abdominal appendages—in the form of simple unjointed stylets (fig. 1, ii.-ix.), accompanied by paired eversible sacs, probably respiratory in function—on eight (or fewer) other abdominal segments. The head of a bristle-tail carries a pair of compound eyes and a pair of elongate many-jointed feelers.

Thysanura.—Bristle-tails have an abdomen with eleven segments, with the tenth usually featuring a pair of long, multi-jointed tail feelers (cerci, fig. 1, x.). Sometimes, there is also a median, jointed tail appendage. The popular name comes from these feelers. There may also be abdominal appendages in the form of simple, unjointed stylets (fig. 1, ii.-ix.), accompanied by paired eversible sacs that are likely respiratory in function—which can be found on eight (or fewer) other abdominal segments. The head of a bristle-tail has a pair of compound eyes and a pair of long, multi-jointed feelers.

The air-tube system is developed in varying degree in different bristle-tails, the number of pairs of spiracles being three (Campodea), nine (Machilis), ten (Lepisma), or eleven (Japyx).

The air-tube system is developed to different extents in various bristle-tails, with the number of pairs of spiracles being three (Campodea), nine (Machilis), ten (Lepisma), or eleven (Japyx).

Four families of Thysanura are usually recognized. In the Machilidae and Lepismidae (these two families are known as the Ectotrophi) the maxillae are like those of typical biting insects, and there is a median tail-bristle in addition to the paired cerci; while in the Campodeidae and Japygidae (which form the group Entotrophi) the jaws are apparently sunk in the head, through a deep inpushing at the mouth, and there is no median tail-bristle. The cerci in Japyx are not, as usual, jointed feelers, but strong, curved appendages forming a forceps as in earwigs.

Four families of Thysanura are typically recognized. In the Machilidae and Lepismidae (these two families are known as the Ectotrophi), the maxillae resemble those of typical biting insects, and there’s a middle tail-bristle in addition to the paired cerci. In contrast, the Campodeidae and Japygidae (which make up the group Entotrophi) have jaws that seem to be recessed in the head due to a deep push-in at the mouth, and there’s no middle tail-bristle. The cerci in Japyx are not the usual jointed feelers but are strong, curved appendages that form pincers like those found in earwigs.

Collembola.—In springtails, or Collembola, the jaws are sunk into the head, as in the entotrophous Thysanura; the head carries a pair of feelers with not more than six (usually four) segments, and there are eight (or fewer) distinct simple eyes on each side of the head (fig. 2, 1, 2). These are in some genera like the single elements (ommatidia) of a compound insect eye, in others like simple ocelli. The abdomen consists of six segments only. The first of these usually carries a ventral tube, furnished with paired eversible sacs which assist the insects in walking on smooth surfaces, and perhaps serve also as organs for breathing. From the researches of V. Willem it appears that the viscid fluid which causes the adherence of the ventral tube is secreted by a pair of glands in the head whose ducts open into a superficial groove leading from the second maxillae backward to the tube on the first abdominal segment. The third abdominal segment usually carries a pair of short appendages whose basal segments are fused together; this is the “catch” (fig. 2, 7), whose function is to hold in place the “spring,” which is formed by the fourth pair of abdominal appendages—also with fused basal segments. In most Collembola the spring appears to belong to the fifth abdominal somite, but Willem, by study of the muscles, has shown that it really belongs to the fourth. The fused basal segments of the appendages form the “manubrium” of the spring, which carries the two “dentes” (usually elongate 234 and flexible), each with a “mucro” at its tip (fig. 2, 5). The fifth abdominal segment is the genital, and the sixth the anal somite.

Collembola.—In springtails, or Collembola, the jaws are recessed into the head, similar to the entotrophous Thysanura; the head features a pair of feelers with no more than six (usually four) segments, and there are eight (or fewer) distinct simple eyes on each side of the head (fig. 2, 1, 2). These resemble the individual elements (ommatidia) of a compound insect eye in some genera, while in others, they look like simple ocelli. The abdomen consists of only six segments. The first segment usually has a ventral tube equipped with paired eversible sacs that help the insects walk on smooth surfaces and may also function as breathing organs. Research by V. Willem indicates that the sticky fluid that allows the ventral tube to adhere is secreted by a pair of glands in the head, with ducts opening into a superficial groove that runs from the second maxillae backward to the tube on the first abdominal segment. The third abdominal segment typically has a pair of short appendages with fused basal segments; this is the “catch” (fig. 2, 7), which serves to hold in place the “spring,” formed by the fourth pair of abdominal appendages—also with fused basal segments. In most Collembola, the spring appears to belong to the fifth abdominal segment, but Willem’s muscle studies have shown that it actually belongs to the fourth. The fused basal segments of the appendages create the “manubrium” of the spring, which supports the two “dentes” (usually elongated and flexible), each with a “mucro” at its tip (fig. 2, 5). The fifth abdominal segment is the genital segment, and the sixth is the anal segment.

From Carpenter, Proc. R. Dub. Soc., vol. xi.
Fig. 2.—Structure of Collembola.

1. Isotoma hibernica. Side view.

Isotoma hibernica. Side profile.

2.     ”     Ocelli and post-antennal organ of right side.

2.     ”     Ocelli and post-antennal organ on the right side.

3.     ”     Tip of terminal antennal segment with antennal organ.

3.     ”     The end of the last segment of the antenna with the antenna organ.

4.     ”     Mandible.

Mandible.

5.     ”     Tip of left dens with mucro. Outer view.

5.     ”     Tip of left dens with peak. Outer view.

6.     ”     Hind-foot with claws. × 240.

6.     ”     Back foot with claws. × 240.

7. Entomobrya anomala. Catch.

7. Entomobrya anomala. Capture.

The spring serves the Collembola which possess it as an efficient leaping-organ (see Springtail). But in some genera it is greatly reduced and in many quite vestigial.

The spring acts as an effective jumping tool for the Collembola that have it (see Springtail). However, in some genera, it is significantly reduced, and in many cases, it's just a remnant.

Most springtails are without air-tubes, and breathe through the general cuticle of the body. But in one family (Sminthuridae) a spiracle, opening on either side between the head and the prothorax, leads to a branching system of air-tubes. The Sminthuridae are further characterized by the globular abdomen, which shows but little external trace of segmentation, and by the well-developed spring.

Most springtails don’t have air tubes and breathe through their skin. However, in one family (Sminthuridae), there’s a spiracle that opens on either side between the head and the prothorax, leading to a branching system of air tubes. The Sminthuridae are also known for their round abdomen, which has minimal visible segmentation, and for their well-developed spring.

In the Entomobryidae the body is elongate and clearly segmented, but the dorsal region (tergum) of the prothorax is much reduced and the head downwardly directed; the spring is well developed. In the Achorutidae the head is forwardly directed, the tergum of the prothorax conspicuous, and the spring small or vestigial.

In the Entomobryidae, the body is long and distinctively segmented, but the upper part (tergum) of the prothorax is significantly reduced, and the head is pointed downward; the spring is well-developed. In the Achorutidae, the head points forward, the tergum of the prothorax is easy to see, and the spring is small or barely noticeable.

In many genera of springtails a curious post-antennal organ, consisting of sensory structures (often complex in form) surrounded by a firm ring, is to be noticed on the cuticle of the head between the eyes and the feelers. It may be of use as an organ of smell. Other sensory organs occur on the third and fourth antennal segments in the Achorutidae and Entomobryidae (fig. 2, 3).

In many types of springtails, there's an interesting post-antennal organ made up of sensory structures (often complex in shape) surrounded by a solid ring, located on the cuticle of the head between the eyes and the antennae. It might serve as a smell organ. Other sensory organs can be found on the third and fourth antennal segments in the Achorutidae and Entomobryidae (fig. 2, 3).

Distribution and Habits.—The Aptera are probably the most widely distributed of all insects. Among the bristle-tails we find the genus Machilis, represented in Europe (including the Faeroe Islands) and in Chile; while Campodea lives high on the mountains and in the deepest caves. The springtails have even a wider distribution. The genus Isotoma, for example, has some of its numerous species in regions so remote as Alaska, Franz Josef Land, the Sandwich Islands, the South Orkneys, Graham Land, Kerguelen and South Victoria Land. As it is unlikely that these delicate insects could be transported across sea-channels, their wide and discontinuous range suggests both their great antiquity and the former existence of continental tracts over which they may have travelled to their present stations.

Distribution and Habits.—The Aptera are likely the most widely distributed of all insects. Among the bristletails, we find the genus Machilis, which is found in Europe (including the Faeroe Islands) and Chile; while Campodea lives high in the mountains and in the deepest caves. Springtails have an even broader distribution. The genus Isotoma, for example, includes several species in far-off places like Alaska, Franz Josef Land, the Sandwich Islands, the South Orkneys, Graham Land, Kerguelen, and South Victoria Land. Since it's improbable that these delicate insects could be moved across ocean channels, their wide and scattered distribution indicates both their ancient origins and the likely existence of continental landmasses they may have traveled across to reach their current locations.

Springtails and bristle-tails live in damp concealed places—under stones or tree-bark, in moss, and in the decaying vegetable or animal matter which serves as food for most of them. Some species, however, eat fresh plant-tissues. A species of bristle-tail (Machilis maritima) and quite a number of springtails haunt the sea-coast at or below high-water mark. In such localities many thousands of individuals may sometimes be found associated together. The insect fauna of limestone caves both in Europe and North America is largely composed of Aptera, especially Collembola.

Springtails and bristletails live in damp, hidden spots—under stones or tree bark, in moss, and in decaying plant or animal matter, which most of them feed on. However, some species eat fresh plant tissue. One species of bristletail (Machilis maritima) and several types of springtails are found along the sea coast, at or below the high-water mark. In these areas, it's common to find thousands of them gathered together. The insect population in limestone caves in both Europe and North America is mainly made up of Aptera, especially Collembola.

Geological History.—A supposed Thysanuran from the Silurian of New Brunswick has been described by G.F. Matthew, and another genus from the French Carboniferous by C. Brongniart. Not till the Tertiary do we find remains of Aptera in any quantity, species both of living and extinct genera being represented in the amber.

Geological History.—A supposed Thysanuran from the Silurian period of New Brunswick has been described by G.F. Matthew, and another genus from the French Carboniferous period by C. Brongniart. It isn’t until the Tertiary that we see remains of Aptera in any significant amount, with species from both living and extinct genera being found in amber.

Development.—The embryonic development of several genera of Aptera, which has been carefully studied, will be more suitably described in comparison with that of other insects than here (see Hexapoda).

Development.—The embryonic development of various genera of Aptera, which has been thoroughly studied, will be better described in relation to that of other insects than here (see Hexapoda).

Bibliography.—The modern study of the Aptera may be said to date from the classical memoirs of T. Tullberg, “Sveriges Podurider,” in Kongl. Svensk Vetensk. Akad. Handl. x., 1872, and Sir J. Lubbock (Lord Avebury), “Monograph of the Collembola and Thysanura,” Ray Society, 1873. In these, full references to the older literature will be found. Subsequently our knowledge of the Thysanura has been markedly advanced by J.T. Oudemans, Bijdrage tot de Kennis den Thysanura en Collembola (Amsterdam, 1888); B. Grassi, who published between 1885 and 1889 a series of memoirs entitled “I progenitori dei Miriapodi e degli Insetti,” in the Atti Accad. di Scienz. Nat. Catania, and the Memor. R. Accad. dei Lincei; and V. Willem, whose “Recherches sur les Collemboles et les Thysanoures,” in Mem. Cour. Acad. Roy. Belgique, lviii., 1900, are indispensable to the student. In addition to this work of Willem, valuable anatomical papers on Collembola have been published by H.J. Hansen (Zool. Anz. xvi., 1893), J.W. Folsom (Bull. Mus. Comp. Anat. Harv. xxxv., 1899), C. Börner (Zool. Anz. xxiii., 1900), and K. Absolon (Zool. Anz. xxiii. and xxiv., 1900, 1901), the two latter writers having paid especial attention to the peculiar post-antennal and antennal sense-organs of springtails. Absolon has also written on the Collembola of caves. These writers, with H. Schött, C. Schäffer and others, have published many systematic papers on Collembola, as has F. Silvestri on Thysanura. British species are mentioned in Lubbock’s monograph; for recent additions see G.H. Carpenter and W. Evans (Proc. R. Phys. Soc. Edinb. xiv., 1899, and xv., 1903).

References.—The modern study of the Aptera began with the classic works of T. Tullberg, “Sveriges Podurider,” in Kongl. Svensk Vetensk. Akad. Handl. x., 1872, and Sir J. Lubbock (Lord Avebury), “Monograph of the Collembola and Thysanura,” Ray Society, 1873. These contain full references to earlier literature. Our understanding of Thysanura has significantly progressed thanks to J.T. Oudemans, Bijdrage tot de Kennis den Thysanura en Collembola (Amsterdam, 1888); B. Grassi, who published a series of works titled “I progenitori dei Miriapodi e degli Insetti,” in the Atti Accad. di Scienz. Nat. Catania and Memor. R. Accad. dei Lincei between 1885 and 1889; and V. Willem, whose “Recherches sur les Collemboles et les Thysanoures,” in Mem. Cour. Acad. Roy. Belgique, lviii., 1900, is essential for students. In addition to Willem's work, important anatomical studies on Collembola have been published by H.J. Hansen (Zool. Anz. xvi., 1893), J.W. Folsom (Bull. Mus. Comp. Anat. Harv. xxxv., 1899), C. Börner (Zool. Anz. xxiii., 1900), and K. Absolon (Zool. Anz. xxiii. and xxiv., 1900, 1901), the latter two focusing on the unique post-antennal and antennal sense organs of springtails. Absolon has also written about cave Collembola. These authors, along with H. Schött, C. Schäffer, and others, have published numerous systematic papers on Collembola, as has F. Silvestri on Thysanura. British species are discussed in Lubbock’s monograph; for the latest additions, refer to G.H. Carpenter and W. Evans (Proc. R. Phys. Soc. Edinb. xiv., 1899, and xv., 1903).

(G. H. C.)

APTERAL (from the Gr. ἄπτερος, wingless, ἀ-, privative and πτερός, a wing), an architectural term applied to amphiprostyle temples which have no columns on the sides; in the Ionic temple on the Acropolis at Athens known as Nike Apteros, the adjective is used, not as applying to the goddess of victory but to the absence of any peristyle on the sides.

APTERAL (from the Greek wingless, meaning wingless, ἀ-, a prefix meaning without, and wing, meaning wing), is an architectural term for amphiprostyle temples that don't have columns on the sides. In the Ionic temple on the Acropolis in Athens known as Nike Apteros, the term refers not to the goddess of victory but to the lack of any peristyle along the sides.


APTIAN (Fr. Aptien, from Apt in Vaucluse, France), in geology, the term introduced in 1843 by A. d’Orbigny (Pal. France Crét. ii.) for the upper stage of the Lower Cretaceous rocks. In England it comprises the Lower Greensand and part of the Speeton beds; in France it is divided into two sub-stages, the lower, “Bedoulian,” of Bedoule in Provence, with Hoplites deshayesei and Ancyloceras Matheroni; and an upper, “Gargasian,” from Gargas near Apt, with Hoplites furcatus (Dufrenoyi) and Phylloceras Guettardi. To this stage belong the Toucasia limestone and Orbitolina marls of Spain; the Schrattenkalk (part) of the Alpine and Carpathian regions; and the Terebrirostra limestone of the same area. Parts of the Flysch of the eastern Alps, the Biancone of Lombardy, and argile scagliose of Emilia, are of Aptian age; so also are the “Trinity Beds” of North America. Deposits of bauxite occur in the Aptian hippurite limestone at Les Baux near Aries, and in the Pyrenees. The Aptian rocks are generally clays, marls and green glauconitic sands with occasional limestones. (See Greensand and Cretaceous.)

APTIAN (Fr. Aptien, from Apt in Vaucluse, France), in geology, refers to the term introduced in 1843 by A. d’Orbigny (Pal. France Crét. ii.) for the upper stage of the Lower Cretaceous rocks. In England, it includes the Lower Greensand and part of the Speeton beds; in France, it is split into two sub-stages, the lower, “Bedoulian,” from Bedoule in Provence, featuring Hoplites deshayesei and Ancyloceras Matheroni; and an upper, “Gargasian,” from Gargas near Apt, with Hoplites furcatus (Dufrenoyi) and Phylloceras Guettardi. This stage includes the Toucasia limestone and Orbitolina marls of Spain; part of the Schrattenkalk in the Alpine and Carpathian regions; and the Terebrirostra limestone from the same area. Parts of the Flysch of the eastern Alps, the Biancone of Lombardy, and argile scagliose of Emilia, are also of Aptian age; the “Trinity Beds” of North America are included too. Bauxite deposits are found in the Aptian hippurite limestone at Les Baux near Aries and in the Pyrenees. The Aptian rocks are mainly clays, marls, and green glauconitic sands with occasional limestones. (See Greensand and Cretaceous.)


APULEIUS, LUCIUS, Platonic philosopher and rhetorician, was born at Madaura in Numidia about A.D. 125. As the son of one of the principal officials, he received an excellent education, first at Carthage and subsequently at Athens. After leaving Athens he undertook a long course of travel, especially in the East, principally with the view of obtaining initiation into religious mysteries. Having practised for some time as an advocate at Rome, he returned to Africa. On a journey to Alexandria he fell sick at Oea (Tripoli), where he made the acquaintance of a rich widow, Aemilia Pudentilla, whom he subsequently married. The members of her family disapproved of the marriage, and indicted Apuleius on a charge of having gained her affections by magical arts. He easily established his innocence, and his spirited, highly entertaining, but inordinately long defence (Apologia or De Magia) before the proconsul Claudius Maximus is our principal authority for his biography. From allusions in his subsequent writings, and the mention of him by St. Augustine, we gather that the remainder of his prosperous life was devoted to literature and philosophy. At Carthage he was elected provincial priest of the imperial cult, in which capacity he occupied a prominent position in the provincial council, had the duty of collecting and managing the funds for the temples of the cult, and the superintendence of the games in the amphitheatre. He lectured on philosophy and rhetoric, like the Greek sophists, apparently with success, since statues were erected in his honour at Carthage and elsewhere. The year of his death is not known.

APULEIUS, LUCIUS, was a Platonic philosopher and rhetorician, born in Madaura, Numidia, around CE 125. As the son of a prominent official, he received a top-notch education, first in Carthage and then in Athens. After leaving Athens, he traveled extensively, especially in the East, mainly seeking initiation into religious mysteries. After practicing as a lawyer in Rome for a while, he returned to Africa. While on a trip to Alexandria, he fell ill in Oea (Tripoli), where he met a wealthy widow named Aemilia Pudentilla, whom he later married. Her family disapproved of the marriage and accused Apuleius of winning her affections through magic. He easily proved his innocence, and his spirited, entertaining, but overly lengthy defense (Apologia or De Magia) before the proconsul Claudius Maximus serves as our main source for his biography. From references in his later works and mentions by St. Augustine, we learn that the rest of his successful life was dedicated to literature and philosophy. In Carthage, he was appointed as the provincial priest of the imperial cult, where he held a significant position in the provincial council and was responsible for collecting and managing the funds for the temple, as well as overseeing the games in the amphitheater. He lectured on philosophy and rhetoric, similar to the Greek sophists, and seemed to have success, as statues were erected in his honor in Carthage and other places. The year of his death remains unknown.

The work on which the fame of Apuleius principally rests has little claim to originality. The Metamorphoses or Golden Ass (the latter title seems not to be the author’s own, but to have been bestowed in compliment, just as the Libri Rerum Quotidianarum of Gaius were called Aurei) was founded on a narrative in the Metamorphoses of Lucius of Patrae, a work extant in the time of Photius. From Photius’s account (impugned, however, by Wieland and Courier), this book would seem to have consisted of a collection of marvellous stories, related in an inartistic fashion, and in perfect good faith. The literary capabilities of this particular narrative attracted the attention of Apuleius’s contemporary, Lucian, who proceeded to work it up in his own manner, adhering, as Photius seems to indicate, very closely to the original, but giving it a comic and satiric turn. Apuleius 235 followed this rifacimento, making it, however, the groundwork of an elaborate romance, interspersed with numerous episodes, of which the beautiful story of Cupid and Psyche is the most celebrated, and altering the dénouement to suit the religious revival of which he was an apostle.

The work that largely defines Apuleius's fame is not particularly original. The Metamorphoses or Golden Ass (the latter title was likely given as a compliment rather than being authored by him, just like Gaius’s Libri Rerum Quotidianarum were called Aurei) was based on a story from the Metamorphoses of Lucius of Patrae, which existed during Photius's time. According to Photius's account (though this has been challenged by Wieland and Courier), this book appears to have been a collection of incredible tales told in a straightforward manner and with complete sincerity. The literary qualities of this particular narrative caught the eye of Apuleius’s contemporary, Lucian, who adapted it in his own style, closely following the original but adding a comic and satirical twist, as Photius seems to suggest. Apuleius 235 built upon this adaptation, transforming it into an elaborate story filled with numerous episodes, the most famous being the beautiful tale of Cupid and Psyche, and changed the dénouement to reflect the religious revival that he supported.

The adventures of the youthful hero in the form of an ass are much the same in both romances, but in Apuleius he is restored to human shape by the aid of Isis, into whose mysteries he is initiated, and finally becomes her priestess. The book is a remarkable illustration of the contemporary reaction against a period of scepticism, of the general appetite for miracle and magic, and of the influx of oriental and Egyptian ideas into the old theology. It is also composed with a well-marked literary aim, defined by Kretzschmann as the emulation of the Greek sophists, and the transplantation of their tours de force into the Latin language. Nothing, indeed, is more characteristic of Apuleius than his versatility, unless it be his ostentation and self-confidence in the display of it. The dignified, the ludicrous, the voluptuous, the horrible, succeed each other with bewildering rapidity; fancy and feeling are everywhere apparent, but not less so affectation, meretricious ornament, and that effort to say everything finely which prevents anything being said well. The Latinity has a strong African colouring, and is crammed with obsolete words, agreeably to the taste of the time. When these defects are mitigated or overlooked, the Golden Ass will be pronounced a most successful work, invaluable as an illustration of ancient manners, and full of entertainment from beginning to end. The most famous and poetically beautiful portion is the episode of Cupid and Psyche, adapted from a popular legend of which traces are found in most fairy mythologies, which explains the seeming incongruity of its being placed in the mouth of an old hag. The allegorical purport he has infused into it is his own, and entirely in the spirit of the Platonic philosophy. Don Quixote’s adventure with the wine-skins, and Gil Blas’s captivity among the robbers, are palpably borrowed from Apuleius; and several of the humorous episodes, probably current as popular stories long before his time, reappear in Boccaccio.

The adventures of the young hero who turns into a donkey are pretty similar in both stories, but in Apuleius, he’s restored to his human form with the help of Isis, whose mysteries he’s initiated into, and he ultimately becomes her priest. The book is a striking example of the contemporary response to a time of skepticism, showcasing a broader desire for miracles and magic, alongside the influx of Eastern and Egyptian ideas into traditional theology. It’s also clearly crafted with a literary purpose, which Kretzschmann describes as mimicking the Greek sophists and bringing their stylistic flourishes into Latin. Nothing is more typical of Apuleius than his versatility, except perhaps his showiness and confidence in displaying it. Serious, funny, sensual, and horrifying elements follow one another at a dizzying pace; imagination and emotion are everywhere, but so are pretentiousness, flashy embellishments, and the effort to express everything nicely that hampers clear expression. The Latin has a strong African influence and is packed with outdated words, fitting the tastes of the time. When these flaws are eased or overlooked, the Golden Ass can be seen as a very successful work, invaluable for its depiction of ancient customs and entertaining from start to finish. The most famous and poetically beautiful part is the story of Cupid and Psyche, adapted from a popular legend echoed in many fairy tales, which explains the oddity of it being told by an old witch. The allegorical meaning he infused into it is uniquely his own and entirely reflects Platonic philosophy. Don Quixote’s adventure with the wine-skins and Gil Blas’s capture by robbers are clearly inspired by Apuleius; several humorous episodes, likely popular tales long before his time, also appear in Boccaccio.

Of Apuleius’s other writings, the Apology has been already mentioned. The Florida (probably meaning simply “anthology,” without any reference to style) consists of a collection of excerpts from his declamations, ingenious but highly affected, and in general perfect examples of the sophistical art of saying nothing with emphasis. They deal with the most varied subjects, and are intended to exemplify the author’s versatility. The pleasing little tract On the God of Socrates expounds the Platonic doctrine of beneficent daemons, an intermediate class between gods and men. Two books on Plato (De Platone et Ejus Dogmate) treat of his life, and his physical and ethical philosophy; a third, treating of logic, is generally considered spurious. The De Mundo is an adaptation of the Περὶ κόσμόυ wrongly attributed to Aristotle. Apuleius informs us that he had also composed numerous poems in almost all possible styles, and several works on natural history, some in Greek. In the preparation of these he seems to have attended more closely to actual anatomical research than was customary with ancient naturalists. Some other works—dealing with theology, the properties of herbs, medical remedies and physiognomy, are wrongly attributed to him.

Of Apuleius's other writings, the Apology has already been mentioned. The Florida (likely just meaning "anthology," without any reference to style) is a collection of excerpts from his declamations, which are clever but very affected, and generally perfect examples of the sophistical art of saying nothing with emphasis. They cover a wide range of topics and are meant to showcase the author's versatility. The delightful little piece On the God of Socrates explains the Platonic idea of benevolent daemons, an intermediate class between gods and humans. Two books on Plato (De Platone et Ejus Dogmate) discuss his life and his physical and ethical philosophy; a third book on logic is generally considered inauthentic. The De Mundo is an adaptation of the About the universe that was wrongly attributed to Aristotle. Apuleius tells us that he also wrote many poems in nearly all possible styles, along with several works on natural history, some in Greek. In creating these, he seems to have focused more on actual anatomical research than was usual for ancient naturalists. Some other works—covering subjects like theology, the properties of herbs, medical remedies, and physiognomy—are inaccurately attributed to him.

The character of Apuleius, as delineated by himself, is attractive; he appears vehement and passionate, but devoid of rancour; enterprising, munificent, genial and an enthusiast for the beautiful and good. His vanity and love of display are conspicuous, but are extenuated by a genuine thirst for knowledge and a surprising versatility of attainments. He prided himself on his proficiency in both Greek and Latin. His place in letters is accidentally more important than his genius strictly entitles him to hold. He is the only extant example in Latin literature of an accomplished sophist in the good sense of the term. The loss of other ancient romances has secured him a peculiar influence on modern fiction; while his chronological position in a transitional period renders him at once the evening star of the Platonic, and the morning star of the Neo-Platonic philosophy.

The character of Apuleius, as he describes himself, is appealing; he comes across as passionate and intense but without any bitterness. He is ambitious, generous, friendly, and has a keen appreciation for beauty and goodness. His vanity and love for attention are obvious, but they are balanced out by a real desire for knowledge and a surprising range of skills. He took pride in his mastery of both Greek and Latin. His significance in literature is incidentally greater than what his talent alone would suggest. He is the only remaining example in Latin literature of an accomplished sophist in a positive sense. The loss of other ancient romances has given him a unique influence on modern fiction, and his timing in a transitional period makes him both the evening star of Platonic philosophy and the morning star of Neo-Platonic philosophy.

Bibliography.—Complete works: Editio princeps, ed. Andreas (1469); Oudendorp (1786-1823); Hildebrand (1842); Helm (1905 et seq.); P. Thomas (vol. iii. 1908). Metamorphoses, Eyssenhardt (1869), van der Vliet (1897). Psyche et Cupido, Jahn-Michaelis (1883); Beck (1902). Apologia, I. Casaubon (1594); Krüger (1864); (with the Florida), van der Vliet (1900). Florida, Krüger (1883). De Deo Socratis, Buckley (1844), Lütjohann (1878). De Platone et ejus Dogmate, Goldbacher (1876) (including De Mundo and De Deo Socratis). For the relation between Lucian’s Ὄνος and the Metamorphoses of Apuleius, see Rohde, Über Lucians Schrift Λούκιος (1869), and Burger, De Lucio Patrensi (1887). On the style of Apuleius consult Kretzschmann, De Latinitate L. Apulei (1865), and Koziol, Der Stil des A. (1872). There is a complete English translation of the works of Apuleius in Bohn’s Classical Library. The translations and imitations of the Golden Ass in modern languages are numerous: in English, by Adlington, 1566 and later eds. (reissued in the Tudor translations and Temple Classics), Taylor (1822) (including the philosophical works), Head (1851). Of the Cupid and Psyche episode there are recent translations by Robert Bridges (1895) (in verse), Stuttaford (1903); and it is beautifully introduced by Walter Pater into his Marius the Epicurean. This episode has afforded the subject of a drama to Thomas Heywood, and of narrative poems to Shakerley Marmion, Mrs. Tighe, and William Morris (in the Earthly Paradise).

References.—Complete works: First edition, edited by Andreas (1469); Oudendorp (1786-1823); Hildebrand (1842); Helm (1905 and following); P. Thomas (vol. iii. 1908). Metamorphoses, Eyssenhardt (1869), van der Vliet (1897). Psyche et Cupido, Jahn-Michaelis (1883); Beck (1902). Apologia, I. Casaubon (1594); Krüger (1864); (with the Florida), van der Vliet (1900). Florida, Krüger (1883). De Deo Socratis, Buckley (1844), Lütjohann (1878). De Platone et ejus Dogmate, Goldbacher (1876) (including De Mundo and De Deo Socratis). For the connection between Lucian’s Donkey and the Metamorphoses of Apuleius, see Rohde, Über Lucians Schrift Λούκιος (1869), and Burger, De Lucio Patrensi (1887). For information on Apuleius's style, check Kretzschmann, De Latinitate L. Apulei (1865), and Koziol, Der Stil des A. (1872). There is a complete English translation of the works of Apuleius in Bohn’s Classical Library. Numerous translations and adaptations of the Golden Ass exist in modern languages: in English, by Adlington, 1566 and later editions (reissued in the Tudor translations and Temple Classics), Taylor (1822) (which includes the philosophical works), Head (1851). Recent translations of the Cupid and Psyche episode include those by Robert Bridges (1895) (in verse) and Stuttaford (1903); it is also beautifully introduced by Walter Pater in his Marius the Epicurean. This episode has inspired a drama by Thomas Heywood, and narrative poems by Shakerley Marmion, Mrs. Tighe, and William Morris (in the Earthly Paradise).


APULIA (sometimes Appulia in manuscripts but never in inscriptions), the district inhabited in ancient times by the Apuli. Strictly a Samnite tribe (see Samnites) settled round Mount Garganus on the east coast of Italy (Strabo vi. 3. 11), the Apuli mingled with the Iapygian tribes of that part of the coast (Dauni, Peucetii, Poediculi) who, like the Messapii, had come from Illyria, so that the name Apulia reached down to the border of the ancient Calabria. Almost the only monument of Samnite speech from the district is the famous Tabula Bantina from Bantia, a small city just inside the Peucetian part of Apulia, on the Lucanian border. This inscription is one of the latest and in some ways the most important monument of Oscan, though showing what appear to be some southern peculiarities (see Osca Lingua). Its date is almost certainly between 118 and 90 B.C., and it shows that Latin had not even then spread over the district (cf. Lucania). Far older than this are some coins from Ausculum and Teate (later known as Teanum Apulum), of which the earliest belong to the 4th century B.C. Roman or Latin colonies were few, Luceria (planted 314 B.C.) in the north and Brundisium (soon after 268) being the chief. (See R.S. Conway, Italic Dialects, xxviii.-xxx. pp. 15 f.; and Mommsen’s introduction to the opening sections of C.I.L. ix.)

APULIA (sometimes Apulia in manuscripts but never in inscriptions), the area that was home to the Apuli in ancient times. This was a Samnite tribe (see Samnites) that settled around Mount Garganus on the east coast of Italy (Strabo vi. 3. 11). The Apuli mixed with the Iapygian tribes of that coastal region (Dauni, Peucetii, Poediculi) who, like the Messapii, had migrated from Illyria, causing the name Apulia to extend to the border of the ancient Calabria. Almost the only artifact of Samnite language from the area is the renowned Tabula Bantina from Bantia, a small city located just inside the Peucetian section of Apulia, near the border with Lucania. This inscription is among the latest and, in some respects, the most significant examples of Oscan, despite showing some southern characteristics (see Osca Lingua). Its date is almost certainly between 118 and 90 BCE, indicating that Latin had not yet spread throughout the area (cf. Lucania). Far older than this are some coins from Ausculum and Teate (later known as Teanum Apulum), of which the earliest date to the 4th century BCE There were few Roman or Latin colonies, with Luceria (established in 314 BCE) in the north and Brundisium (shortly after 268) being the main ones. (See R.S. Conway, Italic Dialects, xxviii.-xxx. pp. 15 f.; and Mommsen’s introduction to the opening sections of C.I.L. ix.)

(R. S. C.)

The wars of the 4th and 3rd centuries B.C. brought a great part of the pastures of the Apulian plain into the hands of the Roman state, and a tax was paid on every head of cattle and every sheep, at first to the tax farmer and later to the imperial procurator. It was under the Romans that the system of migration for the flocks reached its full development, and the practice is still continued; the sheep-tracks (tratturi), 350 ft. wide, leading from the mountains of the Abruzzi to the plain of Apulia date in the main at least from the Roman period, and are mentioned in inscriptions. The plain, however, which once served as winter grazing ground for a million sheep, now gives pasture to about one-half of that number.1 The shepherds, who were slaves, often gave considerable trouble; we hear that some 7000 of them, who had made the whole country unsafe, were condemned to death in 185 B.C. (Livy xxxix. 29). Sheep-farming on a large scale was no doubt detrimental to the interests of the towns. We hear of repeated risings, for the last time in the Social War. Even in the 4th century B.C. the then chief town of Apulia, Teate or Teanum Apulum (see above), suffered in this way. Luceria subsequently took its place, largely owing to its military importance; but under the Empire it was succeeded by Canusium.

The wars of the 4th and 3rd centuries B.C. brought a large part of the pastures of the Apulian plain under the control of the Roman state, and a tax was imposed on every head of cattle and every sheep, initially to the tax collector and later to the imperial official. It was during Roman times that the system of migration for flocks reached its peak, a practice that continues to this day; the sheep-tracks (tratturi), 350 ft. wide, connecting the mountains of the Abruzzi to the Apulian plain mainly date back to the Roman period and are referenced in inscriptions. However, the plain, which once provided winter grazing for a million sheep, now supports about half that number.1 The shepherds, who were slaves, often caused significant problems; it's recorded that around 7,000 of them, who had made the entire region unsafe, were sentenced to death in 185 BCE (Livy xxxix. 29). Large-scale sheep farming was certainly harmful to the towns’ interests. We hear of multiple uprisings, the last occurring during the Social War. Even in the 4th century BCE, the main town of Apulia, Teate or Teanum Apulum (see above), was affected in this way. Luceria later became more prominent, largely due to its military significance; but under the Empire, it was replaced by Canusium.

The road system of Apulia, which touched all the important towns, consisted of three main lines, the Via Appia (see Appia, Via), the Via Traiana, and the coast road, running more or less parallel in an east-south-east direction. The first (the southernmost), coming east from Beneventum, entered Apulia at the Pons Aufidi, and ran through Venusia to Tarentum, and thence, 236 turning north-east, to Brundusium. The second, coming north-east from Beneventum, turned east at Aecae, and ran through Herdoniae, Canusium, Butuntum, Barium and Gnathia (Gnatia) to Brundusium. There was also a short cut from Butuntum to Gnathia through Caelia, keeping inland. The third parallel line ran to the north of the Via Traiana, in continuation of the road along the north-east coast of Picenum and Samnium; it entered Apulia near Larinum (whence a branch ran south to Bovianum Undecimanorum), and thence, keeping in the plain to the south of the Mons Garganus, rejoined the coast at Sipontum, where it received a branch road from the Via Traiana at Aecae, passing through Luceria and Arpi. It then passed through Barduli (where it was joined by a road from Canusium by way of Cannae) to Barium, where it joined the Via Traiana. From Barium a road probably ran direct to Caelia, and thence south-south-east to join the Via Appia some 25 m. north-west of Tarentum.

The road system of Apulia, which connected all the key towns, had three main routes: the Via Appia (see Appia, Via), the Via Traiana, and the coast road, which ran roughly parallel in an east-south-east direction. The first route (the southernmost), coming from Beneventum, entered Apulia at Pons Aufidi and traveled through Venusia to Tarentum, and then, 236 turning north-east, to Brundusium. The second route, coming from the north-east of Beneventum, turned east at Aecae and went through Herdoniae, Canusium, Butuntum, Barium, and Gnathia (Gnatia) to Brundusium. There was also a shortcut from Butuntum to Gnathia through Caelia, staying inland. The third parallel route ran to the north of the Via Traiana, continuing the road along the north-east coast of Picenum and Samnium; it entered Apulia near Larinum (where a branch went south to Bovianum Undecimanorum), and from there, it stayed in the plain south of Mons Garganus and rejoined the coast at Sipontum, where it connected with a branch from the Via Traiana at Aecae, passing through Luceria and Arpi. It then went through Barduli (where it was linked by a road from Canusium via Cannae) to Barium, where it connected with the Via Traiana. From Barium, a road likely went directly to Caelia and then south-south-east to connect with the Via Appia about 25 miles north-west of Tarentum.

Barium was an important harbour, though less so than Brundusium and Tarentum, which, however, belonged to Calabria in the Roman sense. Apulia, with Calabria, formed the second region of Augustus, though we once find Calabria treated as a part of the third region, Lucania (C.I.L. ix. 2213). The Hannibalic and later wars had, Strabo tells us, destroyed the former prosperity of the country; in imperial times we hear little or nothing of it. Both were governed by a corrector from the time of Constantine onwards, but in 668 the Lombards conquered Calabria and Apulia, and it was then that the former name was transferred to Bruttium, the meaning of the latter being extended to include Calabria also. In the 10th century the greater part of this territory was recovered by the Byzantine emperors, whose governor was called Καταπανός, a name which, under the corrupt form Capitanata, belonged to the province of Foggia till 1861. It was conquered by the Normans under William Bras-de-fer, who took the title of comes Apuliae in 1042; it was raised to a dukedom with Calabria by Robert Guiscard in 1059, and united to the Sicilian monarchy in 1127. Many of the important towns possess fine Romanesque cathedrals, constructed under the Normans and the Hohenstaufen rulers. It shared the subsequent fate of Sicily, becoming a part of the kingdom of the Two Sicilies in 1734, and being united with Italy in 1861.

Barium was an important harbor, though not as significant as Brundusium and Tarentum, which were part of Calabria in the Roman context. Together with Calabria, Apulia comprised the second region of Augustus, although at one point Calabria was classified as part of the third region, Lucania (C.I.L. ix. 2213). According to Strabo, the Hannibalic and later wars had wiped out the area's former prosperity; by imperial times, it hardly came up at all. Both regions were governed by a corrector from Constantine's time onwards, but in 668, the Lombards conquered Calabria and Apulia, leading to the earlier name being shifted to Bruttium, while the meaning of the latter was expanded to also include Calabria. In the 10th century, most of this land was reclaimed by the Byzantine emperors, whose governor was known as Καταπανός, a title that, in its corrupt form Capitanata, referred to the province of Foggia until 1861. It was taken over by the Normans under William Bras-de-fer, who assumed the title of comes Apuliae in 1042; later, Robert Guiscard elevated it to a dukedom along with Calabria in 1059, and it became part of the Sicilian monarchy in 1127. Many key towns feature beautiful Romanesque cathedrals built during the Norman and Hohenstaufen eras. It shared the later fate of Sicily, becoming part of the kingdom of the Two Sicilies in 1734 and uniting with Italy in 1861.

Modern Apulia comprises the three provinces of Foggia, Bari and Lecce (the latter corresponding roughly with the ancient Calabria, which, however, extended somewhat farther north inland), and is often known as Le Puglie; it Modern Apulia. stretches from Monte Gargano to the south-east extremity of Italy, with an area of 7376 sq. m.; it is bounded on the north and east by the Adriatic, on the south-east by the Gulf of Taranto, on the south by Basilicata and on the west by Campania and the Abruzzi. The three provinces correspond to the three natural divisions into which it falls. That of Foggia, though it has mountains on the west and south-west boundary, and the Monte Gargano at its north-east extremity, is in the main a great plain called the Tavoliere (chessboard) di Puglia, with considerable lagoons on its north and east coast. That of Bari, east-south-east of Foggia and divided from it by the Ofanto (Aufidus), the only considerable river of Apulia, 104 m. long, is a hilly district with a coast strip along which are the majority of the towns—the lack of villages is especially noticeable; in the circondario of Barletta, the north-east portion of the province, there are only eleven communes, with a total population of 335,934. That of Lecce, to the east-south-east again, is a low flat limestone terrace.

Modern Apulia includes the three provinces of Foggia, Bari, and Lecce (the latter roughly matching the ancient Calabria, which extended a bit further north inland), and is commonly referred to as Le Puglie; it Contemporary Apulia. stretches from Monte Gargano to the southeastern tip of Italy, covering an area of 7,376 square miles; it is bordered to the north and east by the Adriatic Sea, to the southeast by the Gulf of Taranto, to the south by Basilicata, and to the west by Campania and the Abruzzi. The three provinces align with the three natural divisions of the region. Foggia, despite having mountains on its western and southwestern borders and Monte Gargano in the northeast, is primarily a vast plain known as the Tavoliere (chessboard) di Puglia, featuring significant lagoons along its northern and eastern coasts. Bari, located east-southeast of Foggia and separated by the Ofanto (Aufidus), the only major river in Apulia, which is 104 miles long, is a hilly area with a coastline that houses most of the towns—the absence of villages stands out; in the circondario of Barletta, the northeastern part of the province, there are only eleven municipalities, with a total population of 335,934. Lecce, positioned east-southeast again, is a low, flat limestone terrace.

The industries of Apulia are mainly pastoral or agricultural. Besides sheep, a considerable number of horses, cattle and swine are bred; while despite the lack of water, which is the great need of modern Apulia (in 1906 arrangements were made for a great aqueduct, to supply the three provinces from the headwaters of the Sele), cultivation is actively carried on, especially in the province of Bari, where grain, wine, olives, almonds, lemons, oranges, tobacco, &c., are produced in abundance, and the export of olive oil is attaining considerable importance. The salt works of Margherita di Savoia produce large quantities of salt, and nitre is extracted near Molfetta.

The industries in Apulia are mostly focused on farming and livestock. In addition to sheep, a significant number of horses, cattle, and pigs are raised. Although there is a shortage of water, a major issue for modern Apulia (in 1906, plans were made for a large aqueduct to supply water to the three provinces from the headwaters of the Sele), farming is still actively pursued, particularly in the province of Bari, where plenty of grains, wine, olives, almonds, lemons, oranges, tobacco, etc., are grown, and the export of olive oil is becoming increasingly important. The salt works in Margherita di Savoia produce large amounts of salt, and nitre is extracted near Molfetta.

Railway communications are fairly good, the main line from Bologna to Brindisi passing through the whole length of Apulia, by way of Foggia and Bari, and having branches from Foggia (the main railway centre of Apulia) to Benevento and Caserta, to Manfredonia, to Lucera and to Rocchetta S. Antonio (and thence to either Avellino, Potenza or Gioia del Colle), from Ofantino to Margherita di Savoia, from Barletta to Spinazzola (between Rocchetta S. Antonio and Gioia del Colle), from Bari to Putignano, and via Gioia del Colle to Taranto, and from Brindisi to Taranto, and to Lecce and Otranto; besides which, there is a steam tramway from Barletta to Bari via Andria.

Railway communications are quite good, with the main line from Bologna to Brindisi running the full length of Apulia, passing through Foggia and Bari. There are branches from Foggia, the central railway hub of Apulia, to Benevento and Caserta, as well as to Manfredonia, Lucera, and Rocchetta S. Antonio (which leads to either Avellino, Potenza, or Gioia del Colle). Additional routes include Ofantino to Margherita di Savoia, Barletta to Spinazzola (between Rocchetta S. Antonio and Gioia del Colle), Bari to Putignano, and from Gioia del Colle to Taranto, as well as from Brindisi to Taranto, Lecce, and Otranto. Plus, there is a steam tramway from Barletta to Bari via Andria.

The most important harbours of Apulia are Brindisi, Bari, Taranto, Barletta, Molfetta and Gallipoli. The export of olive oil to foreign countries from the province of Lecce in 1905 amounted to 1048 tons, as against 3395 in 1901; but that to home ports increased from 7077 to 9025 tons in the same period. The production of wine was 358,953 tons in 1905 as against 203,995 tons in 1901 (an exceptionally bad year) and 284,156 tons in 1902. Of this 211,872 tons were forwarded by rail and sea, in the proportion of five to two respectively, the rest being used for home consumption and as a reserve. The cultivation of oriental tobacco is extending in the province (see Consular Report, No. 3672, July 1906).

The main ports of Apulia are Brindisi, Bari, Taranto, Barletta, Molfetta, and Gallipoli. In 1905, exports of olive oil from Lecce province reached 1,048 tons, down from 3,395 tons in 1901; however, shipments to domestic ports rose from 7,077 to 9,025 tons during the same period. Wine production in 1905 was 358,953 tons, compared to 203,995 tons in 1901 (which was a particularly bad year) and 284,156 tons in 1902. Out of this total, 211,872 tons were transported by rail and sea, with a ratio of five to two, respectively; the remainder was for local use and reserves. The cultivation of oriental tobacco is growing in the province (see Consular Report, No. 3672, July 1906).

The population of the province of Foggia was 425,450 (1901) as against 322,755 in 1871, the chief towns being Foggia (53,151), Cerignola (34,195), S. Severo (30,040), Monte S. Angelo (21,870), S. Marco in Lamis (17,309), Lucera (17,515); that of Bari, 827,698 (1901) as against 604,540 in 1871, the chief towns being Bari (77,478), Andria (49,569), Barletta (42,022), Corato (41,573), Molfetta (40,135), Trani (31,800), Bisceglie (30,885), Bitonto (30,617), Canosa (24,169), Ruvo (23,776), Terlizzi (23,232), Altamura(22,729), Monopoli (22,545), Gioia del Colle (21,721); that of Lecce, 706,520 (1901) as against 493,594 in 1871, the chief towns being Taranto (60,733), Lecce (32,687), Brindisi (25,317), Martina Franca (25,007), Ostuni (22,997), Francavilla Fontana (20,422), Ceglie Messapica (16,867), Nardo (14,387), Galatina (14,071), Gallipoli (13,552), Manduria (13,113).

The population of the province of Foggia was 425,450 in 1901 compared to 322,755 in 1871, with the main towns being Foggia (53,151), Cerignola (34,195), S. Severo (30,040), Monte S. Angelo (21,870), S. Marco in Lamis (17,309), and Lucera (17,515); for Bari, the population was 827,698 in 1901, up from 604,540 in 1871, and the main towns included Bari (77,478), Andria (49,569), Barletta (42,022), Corato (41,573), Molfetta (40,135), Trani (31,800), Bisceglie (30,885), Bitonto (30,617), Canosa (24,169), Ruvo (23,776), Terlizzi (23,232), Altamura (22,729), Monopoli (22,545), and Gioia del Colle (21,721); in Lecce, the population was 706,520 in 1901 compared to 493,594 in 1871, with the main towns being Taranto (60,733), Lecce (32,687), Brindisi (25,317), Martina Franca (25,007), Ostuni (22,997), Francavilla Fontana (20,422), Ceglie Messapica (16,867), Nardo (14,387), Galatina (14,071), Gallipoli (13,552), and Manduria (13,113).

(T. As.)

1 The migration was made compulsory by Alphonso I. in 1442, and remained so until 1865. Since that time the tratturi have been to some extent absorbed by private proprietors.

1 The migration was mandated by Alphonso I in 1442 and stayed that way until 1865. Since then, the tratturi have been partially taken over by private owners.


APURÉ, a river of western Venezuela, formed by the confluence of the Sarare and Uribante at 6° 45′ N. lat. and 71° W. long., and flowing eastward across the Venezuelan llanos to a junction with the Orinoco at about 7° 40′ N. lat. and 66° 45′ W. long. Its drainage area includes the slopes of both the Colombian and Venezuelan Andes. It has a sluggish course across the llanos for about 300 m., and is navigable throughout its length. Its principal tributaries are the Caparro, Portuguesa and Guarico on the north, and the Caucagua on the south. Its lateral channels on the south mingle with those of the Arauca for many miles, forming an extensive district subject to annual inundations.

APURÉ, is a river in western Venezuela, created by the merging of the Sarare and Uribante rivers at 6° 45′ N. latitude and 71° W. longitude. It flows eastward through the Venezuelan llanos to join the Orinoco around 7° 40′ N. latitude and 66° 45′ W. longitude. Its drainage area includes the slopes of both the Colombian and Venezuelan Andes. The river has a slow course across the llanos for about 300 miles and is navigable along its entire length. Its main tributaries are the Caparro, Portuguesa, and Guarico on the north, and the Caucagua on the south. Its side channels on the south connect with those of the Arauca for many miles, creating a large area that experiences annual flooding.


APURIMAC, a river of central Peru, rising in the Laguna de Villafra in the western Cordilleras, 7 m. from Caylloma, a village in the department of Arequipa, and less than 100 m. from the Pacific coast. It flows first north-easterly, then north-westerly past Cuzco to the mouth of the Perené tributary, thence east and north to its junction with the Ucayali at 10° 41′ S. lat., and 73° 34′ W. long. It is known as the Apurimac only down to the mouth of the Mantaro tributary, 11° 45′ S. lat. and 1325 ft. above sea-level. Thence to the mouth of the Perene (984 ft.) it is known as the Ené, and from that point to its junction with the Ucayali (859 ft.) as the Tambo.

APURIMAC, is a river in central Peru that starts at Laguna de Villafra in the western Cordilleras, 7 miles from Caylloma, a village in the Arequipa region, and less than 100 miles from the Pacific coast. It flows first to the northeast and then to the northwest past Cuzco until it reaches the mouth of the Perené tributary, and then continues east and north to meet the Ucayali at 10° 41′ S. latitude and 73° 34′ W. longitude. It is referred to as the Apurimac only up to the mouth of the Mantaro tributary, located at 11° 45′ S. latitude and 1325 feet above sea level. From there to the mouth of the Perene (984 ft.), it is called the Ené, and from that point to its junction with the Ucayali (859 ft.), it is known as the Tambo.


APURIMAC, an interior department of southern Peru, bounded N. by the department of Ayacucho, E. by Cuzco, S. and W. by Cuzco and Ayacucho. Area, 8187 sq. m.; pop. (1896) 177,387. The department was created in 1873 and comprises five provinces. Its physical features and productions are very similar to those of Ayacucho (q.v.), with the exception that sugar-cane is cultivated with noteworthy success in the low valley of the province of Abancay. The capital, Abancay, 110 m. south-west of Cuzco, which is only a village in size but is rich in historical associations and Andahuaylas, in the north-west part of the department, are its principal towns.

APURIMAC, is an interior department in southern Peru, bordered to the north by the department of Ayacucho, to the east by Cuzco, and to the south and west by Cuzco and Ayacucho. It covers an area of 8,187 square miles and had a population of 177,387 in 1896. The department was established in 1873 and consists of five provinces. Its geography and agricultural products are very similar to those of Ayacucho (q.v.), except that sugarcane is grown successfully in the low valley of the province of Abancay. The capital, Abancay, located 110 miles southwest of Cuzco, is small but has significant historical connections, while Andahuaylas, located in the northwest part of the department, is one of its main towns.


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APYREXIA (Gr. ἀπυρεξία, from ἀ-, privative, πυρέσσειν, to be in a fever, πῦρ, fire, fever), in pathology, the normal interval or period of intermission in a fever.

APYREXIA (Gr. fever-free, from ἀ-, meaning not, πυρέσσειν, to have a fever, fire, fire, fever), in pathology, refers to the normal interval or period of time when a fever breaks.


‛AQĪBA BEN JOSEPH (c. 50-132), Jewish Palestinian rabbi, of the circle known as tana (q.v.). It is almost impossible to separate the true from the false in the numerous traditions respecting his life. He became the chief teacher in the rabbinical school of Jaffa, where, it is said, he had 24,000 scholars. Whatever their number, it seems certain that among them was the celebrated Rabbi Meir, and that through him and others ‛Aqība exerted a great influence on the development of the doctrines embodied in the Mishnah. He sided with Bar Cochebas in the last Jewish revolt against Rome, recognized him as the Messiah, and acted as his sword-bearer. Being taken prisoner by the Romans under Julius Severus, he was flayed alive with circumstances of great cruelty, and met his fate, according to tradition, with marvellous steadfastness and composure. He is said by some to have been a hundred and twenty years old at the time of his death. He is one of the ten Jewish martyrs whose names occur in a penitential prayer still used in the synagogue service. ‛Aqība was among the first to systematize the Jewish tradition, and he paved the way for the compilation of the Mishnah. From his school emanated the Greek translation of the scriptures by Aquila.

AQĪBA BEN JOSEPH (c. 50-132), a Jewish rabbi from Palestine, was part of a group known as tana (q.v.). It’s nearly impossible to distinguish the truths from the myths in the many stories about his life. He became the main teacher at the rabbinical school in Jaffa, where it’s said he had 24,000 students. Regardless of their actual number, it's clear that one of them was the famous Rabbi Meir, and through him and others, ‛Aqība had a significant impact on the development of the teachings found in the Mishnah. He supported Bar Cochebas during the final Jewish revolt against Rome, recognized him as the Messiah, and served as his sword bearer. Captured by the Romans under Julius Severus, he was flayed alive in a particularly brutal manner and, according to tradition, faced his death with remarkable courage and calmness. Some say he was one hundred and twenty years old when he died. He is one of the ten Jewish martyrs whose names are mentioned in a penitential prayer still recited during synagogue services. ‛Aqība was one of the first to organize Jewish tradition and laid the groundwork for the compilation of the Mishnah. His school produced the Greek translation of the scriptures by Aquila.


AQUAE (Lat. for “waters”), a name given by the Romans to sites where mineral springs issued from the earth. Over a hundred can be identified, some declaring by their modern names their ancient use: Aix-les-Bains in Savoy (Aquae Sabaudicae), Aix-en-Provence (Aquae Sextiae), Aix-la-Chapelle or Aachen (Aquae Grani), &c. Only two occur in Britain: Aquae Sulis—less correctly Aquae Solis—at Bath in Somerset, which was famous, and Buxton (called Aquae simply), which seems to have been far less important. Aquae Sulis was occupied by the Romans almost as soon as they entered the island in A.D. 43, and flourished till the end of the Roman period. It was frequented by soldiers quartered in Britain, by the Britons, and by visitors from north Gaul, and its name was known in Italy, though patients probably seldom travelled so far. Like most mineral springs known to the ancients, it was under the protection of a local deity, the Celtic Sul, whom the Romans equated with their Minerva. Stately remains of its baths and temple have been found at various times, especially in 1790 and 1878-1895, and may still be seen there.

AQUAE (Latin for “waters”), a name given by the Romans to places where mineral springs came out of the ground. Over a hundred can be identified, some revealing their ancient use through their modern names: Aix-les-Bains in Savoy (Aquae Sabaudicae), Aix-en-Provence (Aquae Sextiae), Aix-la-Chapelle or Aachen (Aquae Grani), etc. Only two exist in Britain: Aquae Sulis—less correctly Aquae Solis—at Bath in Somerset, which was well-known, and Buxton (simply called Aquae), which seems to have been much less significant. Aquae Sulis was taken over by the Romans almost as soon as they arrived on the island in CE 43 and thrived until the end of the Roman era. It was popular among soldiers stationed in Britain, the Britons, and visitors from northern Gaul, and its name reached Italy, though patients probably rarely traveled that far. Like most mineral springs known to the ancients, it was under the protection of a local deity, the Celtic Sul, whom the Romans identified with their Minerva. Impressive remains of its baths and temple have been discovered at various times, especially in 1790 and 1878-1895, and can still be seen there today.


AQUAE CUTILIAE, a mineral spring in Italy, near the modern Cittaducale, 9 m. E. of Rieti. The lake near it was supposed by classical writers to be the central point of Italy, and was renowned for its floating islands, which, as in other cases, were formed from the partial petrification of plants by the mineral substances contained in the water. Considerable remains of baths may still be seen there—they were apparently resorted to by both Vespasian and Titus in their last illnesses, for both died there.

AQUAE CUTILIAE, a mineral spring in Italy, near the modern Cittaducale, 9 miles east of Rieti. Ancient writers believed that the lake nearby was the center of Italy and it was famous for its floating islands, which, like in other instances, were created from the partial fossilization of plants due to the mineral content in the water. Significant remains of baths can still be seen there—they were likely visited by both Vespasian and Titus during their final illnesses, as both died there.


AQUAMARINE (Lat. aqua marina, “water of the sea”), a transparent variety of beryl (q.v.), having a delicate blue or bluish-green colour, suggestive of the tint of sea-water. It occurs at most localities which yield ordinary beryl, some of the finest coming from Russia. The gem-gravels of Ceylon contain aquamarine. Clear yellow beryl, such as occurs in Brazil, is sometimes called aquamarine chrysolite. When corundum presents the bluish tint of typical aquamarine, it is often termed Oriental aquamarine.

AQUAMARINE (Lat. aqua marina, “water of the sea”), a transparent type of beryl (q.v.) that has a light blue or bluish-green color, resembling the shade of seawater. It can be found in most places where regular beryl occurs, with some of the best examples coming from Russia. The gem deposits in Ceylon contain aquamarine. Clear yellow beryl, such as what is found in Brazil, is sometimes referred to as aquamarine chrysolite. When corundum displays the bluish hue typical of aquamarine, it's often called Oriental aquamarine.


AQUARELLE (from Ital. acquarella, water-colour), a form of painting with thin water-colour or ink.

WATERCOLOR (from Ital. acquarella, water-color), a type of painting that uses thin water-color or ink.


AQUARII, a name given to the Christians who substituted water for wine in the Eucharist. They were not a sect, for we find the practice widely in vogue at an early time, even among the orthodox. In Greek they were called Hydroparastatae, or those who offer water. Theodosius, in his persecuting edict of 382, classes them as a special sect with the Manicheans, who also eschewed wine. See Eucharist.

AQUARII, a term used for Christians who replaced wine with water during the Eucharist. They weren't a separate sect, as this practice was common at an early stage and even embraced by the orthodox. In Greek, they were referred to as Hydroparastatae, meaning those who offer water. Theodosius, in his persecuting edict of 382, categorized them as a distinct sect alongside the Manicheans, who also avoided wine. See Eucharist.


AQUARIUM (plural aquaria), the name given to a receptacle for a marine flora and fauna. Until comparatively recently, aquaria were little more than domestic toys, or show-places of a popular character, but they have now not only assumed a profound scientific importance for the convenient study of anatomical and physiological problems in marine botany and zoology, but have also attained an economic value, as offering the best opportunities for that study of the habits and environment of marketable food-fish without which no steps for the improvement of sea-fisheries can be safely taken. The numerous “zoological stations” which have sprung up, chiefly in Europe and the United States, but also in the British colonies and Japan, often endeavour to unite these two aims, and have in many cases become centres of experimental work in problems relating to fisheries, as well as in less directly practical subjects. Of these stations, the oldest and the most important is that at Naples, which, though designed for purely scientific objects, also encourages popular study by means of a public aquarium. The following account (1902) of this station by Dr W. Giesbrecht, a member of the staff, will serve to show the methods and aims, and the complex and expensive equipment, of a modern aquarium:—

AQUARIUM (plural aquaria), refers to a container for marine plants and animals. Until relatively recently, aquaria were just domestic toys or popular attractions, but they have now gained significant scientific importance for studying anatomical and physiological issues in marine botany and zoology. Additionally, they have economic value by providing excellent opportunities to study the habits and environments of commercially valuable fish, which is essential for successfully improving sea fisheries. The many “zoological stations” that have emerged, mainly in Europe and the United States, but also in the British colonies and Japan, often try to combine these two objectives and have, in many cases, become centers for experimental work on fisheries-related problems and other practical subjects. Among these stations, the oldest and most significant is in Naples, which, although primarily aimed at scientific research, also promotes public education through a public aquarium. The following account (1902) of this station by Dr. W. Giesbrecht, a staff member, illustrates the methods, goals, and the complex and costly equipment of a modern aquarium:—

“The zoological station at Naples is an institution for the advancement of biological science—that is, of comparative anatomy, zoology, botany, physiology. It serves this end by providing the biologist with the various objects of his study and the necessary appliances; it is not a teaching institution. The station was founded by Dr Anton Dohrn, and opened in the spring of 1874; it is the oldest and largest of all biological stations, of which there are now about thirty in existence. Its two buildings are situated near the seashore in the western town park (Villa Nazionale) of Naples. The older and larger one, 33 metres long, 24 m. deep, 16 m. high, contains on the ground floor the aquarium, which is open to the public. On the first floor there is, facing south, the principal library, ornamented with fresco paintings, and, facing north, a large hall containing twelve working tables, several smaller rooms and the secretarial offices. On the second floor is the physiological laboratory, and on the third floor the small library, a hall with several working tables, and the dark rooms used in developing photographs. The ground floor of the smaller building, which was finished in 1887, contains the rooms in which the animals are delivered, sorted and preserved, and the fishing tackle kept, together with the workshop of the engineer; on the first and second floors are workrooms, amongst others the botanical laboratory; on the third floor are store-rooms. In the basement of both buildings, which is continued underneath the court, there are sea-water cisterns and filters, engines and store-rooms. The materials for study which the station offers to the biologist are specimens of marine animals and plants which abound in the western part of the Mediterranean, and especially in the Gulf of Naples. To obtain these, two screw-steamers and several rowing boats are required, which are moored in the harbour of Mergellina, situated close by. The larger steamer, ‘Johannes Müller’ (15 m. long, 2½ m. wide, 1 m. draught), which can steam eight to ten English miles per hour, is provided with a steam dredge working to a depth of eighty fathoms. From the small steamer, ‘Frank Balfour,’ and the rowing boats, the fishing is done by means of tow-nets. Besides these there are fishermen and others who daily supply living material for study. The plankton (small floating animals) is distributed in the morning, other animals as required. The animals brought in by the fishermen are at once distributed amongst the biologists, whereas the material brought up by the dredges is placed in flat revolving wooden vessels, so as to give the smaller animals time to come out of their hiding-places. The students who work in the station have the first claim on specimens of plants and animals; but specimens are also supplied to museums, laboratories and schools, and to individuals engaged in original research elsewhere. Up to the present time about 4000 such parcels have been despatched, and not infrequently live specimens of animals are sent to distant places. This side of the work has been of very great value to science. The principal appliances for study with which the station provides the biologist are workrooms furnished with the apparatus 238 and chemicals necessary for anatomical research and physiological experiments and tanks. Every student receives a tank for his own special use. The large tanks of the principal aquarium are also at his disposal for purposes of observation and experiment if necessary.

The zoological station in Naples is an organization dedicated to advancing biological science—specifically comparative anatomy, zoology, botany, and physiology. It achieves this purpose by providing biologists with the various study specimens and the necessary tools; it is not an educational institution. The station was established by Dr. Anton Dohrn and opened in the spring of 1874; it is the oldest and largest of all biological stations, of which there are currently about thirty in total. Its two buildings are located near the seashore in the western town park (Villa Nazionale) of Naples. The older and larger building is 33 meters long, 24 meters deep, and 16 meters high, and on the ground floor, it houses an aquarium that is open to the public. On the first floor, facing south, is the main library, decorated with frescoes, and facing north is a large room with twelve work tables, several smaller rooms, and the secretarial offices. The physiological laboratory is on the second floor, while the third floor contains a small library, a hall with several work tables, and darkrooms used for developing photographs. The ground floor of the smaller building, completed in 1887, includes rooms where animals are received, sorted, preserved, and where fishing gear is stored, along with the engineer's workshop; the first and second floors have workrooms, including the botanical laboratory, and the third floor has storage rooms. In the basements of both buildings, which extend under the courtyard, there are sea-water tanks and filters, engines, and storage rooms. The study materials available at the station for biologists include specimens of marine animals and plants that are plentiful in the western Mediterranean, particularly in the Gulf of Naples. To collect these, two screw steamers and several rowing boats are needed, which are anchored in the nearby harbor of Mergellina. The larger steamer, 'Johannes Müller' (15 meters long, 2.5 meters wide, 1 meter draft), can travel eight to ten nautical miles per hour and is equipped with a steam dredge that operates to a depth of eighty fathoms. Fishing is conducted from the smaller steamer, 'Frank Balfour,' and the rowing boats using tow-nets. Additionally, local fishermen and others supply live materials for study daily. The plankton (small floating animals) is distributed in the morning, along with other animals as needed. The animals caught by fishermen are immediately distributed to the biologists, while the material retrieved by the dredges is placed in shallow, rotating wooden containers, allowing smaller animals time to emerge from their hiding spots. Students working at the station have first access to plant and animal specimens; however, specimens are also sent to museums, laboratories, schools, and individuals engaged in original research elsewhere. So far, around 4,000 such parcels have been shipped, and it's not uncommon for live animals to be sent to faraway locations. This aspect of the station's work has been incredibly beneficial to science. The primary resources for research that the station offers to biologists include workrooms equipped with the instruments and chemicals essential for anatomical research and physiological experiments, as well as tanks. Each student receives a tank for their exclusive use. The large tanks of the main aquarium are also available for observation and experimentation when needed.

“The water in the tanks is kept fresh by continual circulation, and is thus charged with the oxygen necessary to the life of the organisms. It is not pumped into the tanks directly from the sea, but from three large cisterns (containing 300 cubic metres), to which it again returns from the tanks. The water wasted or evaporated during this process is replaced by new water pumped into the cisterns directly from the sea. The water flows from the large cisterns into a smaller cistern, from which it is distributed by means of an electric pump through vulcanite or lead pipes to the various tanks. The water with which the tanks on the upper floors are filled is first pumped into large wooden tanks placed beneath the roof, thence it flows, under almost constant pressure, into the tanks. The water circulated in this manner contains by far the largest number of such animals as are capable of living in captivity in good condition. Some of them even increase at an undesirable rate, and it sometimes happens that young Mytilus or Ciona stop up the pipes; in laying these, therefore, due regard must be had to the arrangements for cleaning. For the cultivation of very delicate animals it is necessary to keep the water absolutely free from harmful bacteria; for this purpose large sand-filters have lately been placed in the system, through which the water passes after leaving the cisterns. Each of the smaller cisterns, which are fixed in the workrooms, consist of two water-tanks, placed one above the other; their frames are of wrought iron and the walls generally of glass. Vessels containing minute animals can be placed between these two tanks, receiving their water through a siphon from the upper tank; the water afterwards flows away into the lower tank.

The water in the tanks is kept fresh through continuous circulation, providing the oxygen needed for the organisms' survival. It’s not pumped directly from the sea into the tanks but rather from three large cisterns (holding 300 cubic meters), where it returns after being used in the tanks. Any water that is wasted or evaporated during this process is replaced by new water pumped directly from the sea into the cisterns. Water flows from the large cisterns into a smaller cistern, from where it is distributed by an electric pump through vulcanite or lead pipes to the various tanks. The water that fills the tanks on the upper floors is first pumped into large wooden tanks located beneath the roof and then it flows, under almost constant pressure, into the tanks. The water circulated in this way supports the greatest number of animals capable of thriving in captivity. Some even multiply at an undesirable rate, and it occasionally happens that young Mytilus or Ciona block the pipes; therefore, while setting these up, careful consideration must be given to cleaning arrangements. To cultivate very delicate animals, it’s essential to keep the water completely free from harmful bacteria; for this, large sand filters have recently been added to the system, through which the water passes after leaving the cisterns. Each of the smaller cisterns, which are fixed in the workrooms, consists of two water tanks stacked one on top of the other; their frames are made of wrought iron and the walls are typically glass. Vessels containing tiny animals can be placed between these two tanks, receiving their water through a siphon from the upper tank; the water then flows into the lower tank.

“The twenty-six tanks of the public aquarium (the largest of which contains 112 cubic metres of water) have stone walls, the front portion alone being made of glass. As the tanks hold a very large number of animals in proportion to the quantity of water, they require to be well aerated. The pipes through which the water is conducted are therefore placed above the surface of the water, and the fresh supply is driven through them under strong pressure. A large quantity of air in the form of fine bubbles is thus taken to the bottom of the tank and distributed through the entire mass of water. Should the organisms which it is desired to keep alive be very minute, there is a danger of their being washed away by the circulating water. To obviate this, either the water which flows away is passed through a strainer, or the water is not changed at all, air being driven through it by means of an apparatus put into motion by the drinking-water supply.

The twenty-six tanks at the public aquarium (the biggest one holding 112 cubic meters of water) have stone walls, with the front part made of glass. Since the tanks house a large number of animals relative to the amount of water, they need to be well-aerated. The pipes that carry the water are positioned above the water's surface, and the fresh supply is pushed through them under high pressure. This introduces a large amount of air in fine bubbles to the bottom of the tank, distributing it throughout the water. If the organisms that need to stay alive are very small, there's a risk they could get swept away by the circulating water. To prevent this, the outgoing water is either filtered through a strainer or not changed at all, with air being pumped through it using a device powered by the drinking water supply.

“The library contains about 9000 volumes, which students use with the help of a slip catalogue, arranged according to authors. The station has published at intervals since 1879 two periodicals treating of the organisms of the Mediterranean. One is Fauna und Flora des Golfes van Neapel, the other Mittheilungen aus der zoologischen Station zu Neapel. The former consists of monographs in which special groups of animals and plants are most exhaustively treated and the Mediterranean species portrayed according to life in natural colours; up to the present time twenty-one zoological and five botanical monographs have appeared, making altogether 1200 4to sheets with about 400 plates. Of the Mittheilungen, which contain smaller articles on organisms of the Mediterranean, fourteen volumes in 8vo have been published. The station also publishes a Zoologischer Jahresbericht, which at first treated of the entire field of zoology, but since 1886 has been confined principally to comparative anatomy and ontogeny; it appears eight to nine months after the end of the year reported. The Guide to the Aquarium, with its descriptions and numerous pictures, is meant to give the lay visitor an idea of the marine animal world.

“The library has about 9,000 books, which students access using a slip catalog organized by author. The station has published two journals periodically since 1879 that focus on the organisms of the Mediterranean. One is Fauna und Flora des Golfes van Neapel, and the other is Mittheilungen aus der zoologischen Station zu Neapel. The former includes monographs that thoroughly explore specific groups of animals and plants, showcasing Mediterranean species in their natural colors; to date, twenty-one zoological and five botanical monographs have been published, totaling 1,200 quarto sheets with around 400 plates. The Mittheilungen features shorter articles on Mediterranean organisms, and fourteen volumes in octavo have been released. The station also publishes a Zoologischer Jahresbericht, which initially covered all aspects of zoology but has focused mainly on comparative anatomy and ontogeny since 1886; it is released eight to nine months after the end of the reported year. The Guide to the Aquarium, with its descriptions and numerous images, aims to give the general visitor an understanding of the marine animal world.”

“There are about forty officials, amongst them six zoologists, one physiologist, one secretary, two draughtsmen, one engineer. The station is a private institution, open to biologists of all nations under the following conditions: there are agreements with the governments of Austria, Baden, Bavaria, Belgium, Hamburg, Holland, Hesse, Italy, Prussia, Russia, Saxony, Switzerland, Hungary, Württemberg, the province of Naples, and the universities of Cambridge, Oxford, Strassburg, Columbia College (New York), and the British Association for the Advancement of Science, the Smithsonian Institution, and a society of women in the United States of North America (formerly also with Bulgaria, Rumania, Spain, the Academy of Sciences in Berlin, Williams College, University of Pennsylvania), by virtue of which the governments and corporate bodies named have the right, on payment of £100 per annum, to send a worker to the station; this places at his disposal a ‘table’ or workplace, furnished with all the necessary appliances and materials as set down in the agreement. At present there are agreements for thirty-three tables, and since the foundation of the station nearly 1200 biologists have worked there. The current expenses are paid out of the table-rents, the entrance fees to the public aquarium, and an annual subvention paid by the German empire.”

“There are about forty officials, including six zoologists, one physiologist, one secretary, two draughtsmen, and one engineer. The station is a private institution that is open to biologists from all countries under the following conditions: there are agreements with the governments of Austria, Baden, Bavaria, Belgium, Hamburg, Holland, Hesse, Italy, Prussia, Russia, Saxony, Switzerland, Hungary, Württemberg, the province of Naples, and the universities of Cambridge, Oxford, Strassburg, Columbia College (New York), the British Association for the Advancement of Science, the Smithsonian Institution, and a women’s society in the United States (formerly also with Bulgaria, Rumania, Spain, the Academy of Sciences in Berlin, Williams College, University of Pennsylvania). These agreements allow the named governments and organizations to send a worker to the station for a payment of £100 per year; this grants access to a ‘table’ or workplace, equipped with all the necessary tools and materials as specified in the agreement. Currently, there are agreements for thirty-three tables, and since the station's founding, nearly 1,200 biologists have worked there. The current expenses are covered by the table fees, entrance fees to the public aquarium, and an annual subsidy from the German Empire.”

In England a station on similar lines, but on a smaller scale, is maintained at Plymouth by the Marine Biological Association of the United Kingdom, with the help of subsidies from the government and the Fishmongers’ Company.

In England, a similar but smaller research station is operated in Plymouth by the Marine Biological Association of the United Kingdom, supported by funding from the government and the Fishmongers’ Company.

Little difficulty is experienced in maintaining, breeding and rearing fresh-water animals in captivity, but for many various reasons it is only by unremitting attention and foresight that most marine animals can be kept even alive in aquaria, and very few indeed can be maintained in a condition healthy enough to breed. Much experience, however, has been gained of late years at considerable expense, both in England and abroad. In starting a marine aquarium of whatever size, it should be obvious that the first consideration must be a supply of the purest possible water, as free as may be, not only from land-drainage and sewage, but also from such suspended matters as chalk, fine sand or mud. This is most ideally and economically secured by placing the station a few feet above high-water mark, in as sheltered a position as possible, on a rocky coast, pumping from the sea to a large reservoir above the station, and allowing the water to circulate gently thence through the tanks by gravity (Banyuls). At an inland aquarium (Berlin, Hamburg), given pure water in the first instance, excellent if less complete results may nevertheless, be obtained. The next consideration is the method by which oxygen is to be supplied to the organisms in the aquarium. Of the two methods hitherto in use, that of pumping a jet of air into tanks otherwise stagnant or nearly so (Brighton), while supplying sufficient oxygen, has so many other disadvantages, that it has not been employed regularly in any of the more modern aquaria. It is, however, still useful in aerating quite small bodies of water in which hardy and minute organisms can be isolated and kept under control. In the other method, now in general use, a fine jet of water under pressure falls on to the surface of the tank; this carries down with it a more than sufficient air-supply, analysis showing in some cases a higher percentage of oxygen in aquarium water than in the open sea.

It's not too hard to maintain, breed, and raise freshwater animals in captivity. However, for various reasons, keeping most marine animals alive in aquariums requires constant attention and careful planning. Very few can even be kept in a healthy enough condition to breed. Fortunately, we've gained a lot of experience in recent years, both in England and abroad, often at significant expense. When starting a marine aquarium of any size, the first priority should be ensuring a source of the purest possible water, free not only from land drainage and sewage but also from suspended materials like chalk, fine sand, or mud. The most effective and economical way to achieve this is by placing the facility a few feet above high-water mark, in the most sheltered location possible on a rocky coast, pumping water from the sea to a large reservoir above the station, and letting it flow gently into the tanks by gravity (Banyuls). At inland aquariums (Berlin, Hamburg), if starting with pure water, you can still achieve good, though less comprehensive, results. The next consideration is how to supply oxygen to the organisms in the aquarium. Of the two methods that have been used so far, pumping a jet of air into stagnant or nearly stagnant tanks (Brighton) has provided enough oxygen but comes with so many other downsides that it’s not regularly used in modern aquariums. However, it is still useful for aerating small amounts of water where hardy, tiny organisms can be isolated and controlled. The other method, which is now standard, involves a fine jet of pressurized water that falls onto the surface of the tank; this drags down an ample supply of air, with analyses sometimes showing a higher percentage of oxygen in aquarium water than in the open sea.

The water supply is best effected by gravity from reservoirs placed above the tanks, but may be also achieved by direct pumping from low reservoirs or from the sea to the tanks. Provided that an unlimited supply of pure water can be obtained cheaply, the overflow from the tanks is best run to waste; but in aquaria less fortunately placed, it returns to a storage low-level reservoir, from which it is again pumped, thus circulating round and round (Naples, Plymouth). The storage reservoirs should be in all cases very large in comparison with the bulk of water in circulation; if practicable, they should be excavated in rock, and lined with the best cement. Thera is no reason why they should not be shallow, exposed to light and air, and cultivated as rock-pools by the introduction of seaweeds and small animals, but they must then be screened from rain, cold and dust. The pumps used in circulation will be less likely to kill minute animals if of the plunger or ram type, rather than 239 rotary, and should be of gun-metal or one of the new bronze-alloys which take a patina in salt water. For the circulating pipes many materials have been tried. Vulcanite is not only expensive and brittle, but has other disadvantages; common iron pipes, coated internally with cement or asphalt or glazed internally, with all unions and joints cemented, have been used with more or less success. Probably best of all is common lead piping, the joints being served with red-lead; water should be circulated through such pipes till they become coated with insoluble carbonate, for some time before animals are put into the tanks. For small installations glass may be used, the joints being made with marine glue or other suitable cement.

The water supply works best by using gravity from reservoirs located above the tanks, but it can also be achieved by directly pumping water from low reservoirs or the sea to the tanks. As long as there's a limitless supply of clean water available at a low cost, the overflow from the tanks is best discarded; however, in less ideal situations, it returns to a low-level storage reservoir where it's pumped again, creating a continuous loop (Naples, Plymouth). The storage reservoirs should always be much larger compared to the amount of water in circulation; if possible, they should be excavated in rock and lined with high-quality cement. There’s no reason they can’t be shallow, exposed to light and air, and maintained like rock pools by adding seaweeds and small animals, but they must be protected from rain, cold, and dust. The pumps used for circulation are less likely to harm tiny creatures if they are of the plunger or ram type rather than rotary, and they should be made of gun-metal or new bronze alloys that develop a patina in salt water. Many materials have been tested for the circulating pipes. Vulcanite is not only expensive and fragile but also has other drawbacks; common iron pipes, internally coated with cement or asphalt or glazed, with all unions and joints sealed with cement, have had varying degrees of success. Probably the best option is standard lead piping, with joints reinforced with red lead; water should flow through these pipes until they are coated with insoluble carbonate for a while before adding animals to the tanks. For smaller setups, glass can be used, with joints made using marine glue or other appropriate cement.

In building the tanks themselves, regard must be had to their special purposes. If intended for show-tanks for popular admiration, or for the study of large animals, they must be large with a plate-glass front; for ordinary scientific work small tanks with all sides opaque are preferable from every point of view. According to their character, size and position, fixed tanks may be of brickwork, masonry or rock, coated in each case with cement; asphalting the sides offers no particular advantages, and often gives rise to great trouble and expense. All materials, and especially the cements, must be of the finest quality procurable. For smaller and movable tanks, slate slabs bolted or screwed together have some disadvantages, notably those of expense, weight and brittleness, but are often used. Better, cheaper and lighter, if less permanent, are tanks of wood bolted together, pitched internally. Glass bell-jars, useful in particular cases, should generally have their sides darkened, except when required for observation. Provision should always be made for cleaning every part of the tanks, pipes and reservoirs; all rock-work in tanks should therefore be removable. As regards the lighting of fixed tanks, it should always be directly from above. In all tanks with glass sides, whether large or small, as much light as possible should be kept from entering through the glass; otherwise, with a side-light, many animals become restless, and wear themselves out against the glass, affected by even so little light as comes through an opposite tank.

In constructing the tanks, it's important to consider their specific purposes. If they're designed for showcase tanks that attract public admiration, or for studying large animals, they need to be sizeable with a glass front. For typical scientific use, smaller tanks with opaque sides are preferable in every way. Depending on their characteristics, size, and placement, fixed tanks can be made of brick, masonry, or rock, all coated with cement; asphalting the sides doesn't offer any significant benefits and often leads to considerable trouble and cost. All materials, especially the cements, must be of the highest quality available. For smaller, movable tanks, slate slabs that are bolted or screwed together have some drawbacks, particularly in terms of cost, weight, and fragility, but they are still commonly used. A better, cheaper, and lighter option, though less durable, is wooden tanks that are bolted together and internally sealed. Glass bell jars, useful in specific situations, should generally have their sides tinted, except when observation is necessary. It's essential to ensure that all parts of the tanks, pipes, and reservoirs are easy to clean; thus, all rockwork in the tanks should be removable. When it comes to lighting fixed tanks, it should always be from directly above. In any tank with glass sides, whether large or small, as much light as possible should be kept from coming through the glass; otherwise, with side lighting, many animals may become restless and exhaust themselves against the glass, affected even by the minimal light that passes through from an adjacent tank.

In cases where distance from the sea or other causes make it impracticable to allow the overflow from the tanks to run to waste, special precautions must be taken to keep the water pure. Chemically speaking, the chief character of the water in an aquarium circulation, when compared with that of the open sea, lies in the excessive quantity of nitrogen present in various forms, and the reduced alkalinity; these two being probably connected. The excess of nitrogen is referable to dead animals, to waste food and to the excreta of the living organisms. The first two of these sources of contamination may be reduced by care and cleanliness, and by the maintenance of a flow of water sufficient to prevent the excessive accumulation of sediment in the tanks. The following experiment shows the rapid rise of nitrogen if unchecked. A tank with a considerable fauna was isolated from the general circulation and aerated by four air-jets, except during hours 124-166 of the experiment; column I. shows per 100,000 the nitrogen estimated as ammonia, column II. the total inorganic nitrogen:—

In situations where being far from the sea or other factors make it impractical to let the overflow from the tanks go to waste, special precautions need to be taken to keep the water clean. Chemically, the main difference between the water in an aquarium and that of the open sea is the higher amount of nitrogen in various forms and the lower alkalinity; these two aspects are likely connected. The excess nitrogen comes from dead animals, leftover food, and waste from living organisms. The first two sources of contamination can be minimized through care and cleanliness, along with maintaining a water flow strong enough to prevent excessive sediment buildup in the tanks. The following experiment demonstrates how quickly nitrogen levels can rise if not controlled. A tank with a significant number of aquatic creatures was isolated from the main circulation and aerated with four air jets, except during hours 124-166 of the experiment; column I shows per 100,000 the nitrogen estimated as ammonia, and column II shows the total inorganic nitrogen:—

  I. II.
Sea-water at source of original supply 0.001 0.003
Aquarium water in tank at commencement of experiment 0.012 0.400
After 22½ hours 0.020 · ·
 ”   75  ” 0.025 1.200
 ”   93  ” 0.019 · ·
 ”  121½  ” 0.012 · ·
 ”  141  ” 0.015 2.200
 ”  165  ” 0.025 · ·
 ”  169  ” 0.025 · ·
 ”  189  ” 0.012 · ·

During this time the alkalinity was reduced to the equivalent of 30 mg. CaCO3 per litre, ocean water having an alkalinity equivalent to 50-55 mg. per litre. It has been suggested that the organic nitrogen becomes oxidized into nitrous, then into nitric acid, which lowers the carbonate values. A great deal of reduction of this nitrogenous contamination can be effected by filtration, a method first introduced successfully at Hamburg, where a most thriving aquarium has been maintained by the local Zoological Society for many years on the circulation principle, new water being added only to compensate for waste and evaporation. The filters consist of open double boxes, the inner having a bottom of perforated slate on which rests rough gravel; on the latter is fine gravel, then coarse, and finally fine sand. Filtration may be either upwards or downwards through the inner box to the outer. Such filters, intercalated between tanks and reservoir, have been shown by analysis to stop a very large proportion of nitrogenous matter. It is doubtful whether aquarium water will not always show an excess of nitrogenous compounds, but they must be kept down in every way possible. In small tanks, well lighted, seaweeds can be got to flourish in a way that has not been found practicable in large tanks with a circulation; these, with Lamellibranchs and small Crustacea as scavengers, will be found useful in this connexion. Slight or occasional circulation should be employed here also, to remove the film of dust and other matters, which otherwise covers the surface of the water and prevents due oxygenation.

During this time, the alkalinity was reduced to the equivalent of 30 mg of CaCO3 per liter, while ocean water has an alkalinity equivalent to 50-55 mg per liter. It's been suggested that organic nitrogen gets oxidized into nitrous acid and then into nitric acid, which reduces the carbonate levels. A significant reduction of this nitrogen contamination can be achieved through filtration, a method that was first successfully implemented in Hamburg, where a flourishing aquarium has been maintained by the local Zoological Society for many years using the circulation principle, with new water added only to replace waste and evaporation. The filters consist of open double boxes, with the inner box having a bottom made of perforated slate topped with rough gravel; on top of that is fine gravel, then coarse gravel, and finally fine sand. Filtration can occur either upwards or downwards through the inner box to the outer box. Such filters, placed between tanks and reservoirs, have been shown through analysis to effectively remove a large portion of nitrogenous matter. It’s uncertain if aquarium water will always show an excess of nitrogen compounds, but they should be minimized as much as possible. In small, well-lit tanks, seaweeds can thrive in ways not seen in larger tanks with circulation; these, along with Lamellibranchs and small Crustacea as scavengers, will be useful in this context. A slight or occasional circulation should also be used here to remove dust and other debris that can cover the water's surface and hinder proper oxygenation.

In such small tanks for domestic use the fauna must be practically limited to bottom-living animals, but for purposes of research it is often desired to keep alive larval and other surface-swimming animals (plankton). In this case a further difficulty is presented, that of helping to suspend the animals in the water, and thus to avoid the exhaustion and death which soon follow their unaided efforts to keep off the bottom; this duty is effected in nature by specific gravity, tide and surface current. In order to deal with this difficulty a simple but efficient apparatus has been devised by Mr E.T. Browne; a “plunger,” generally a glass plate or filter funnel, moves slowly up and down in a bell-jar or other small tank, with a period of rest between each stroke; the motive power is obtained through a simple bucket-and-siphon arrangement worked by the overflow from other tanks. This apparatus (first used at the Plymouth Laboratory of the Marine Biological Association in 1897, and since introduced into similar institutions), by causing slight eddies in the water, keeps the floating fauna in suspension, and has proved very successful in rearing larvae and in similar work.

In small tanks for home use, the animal life is mostly limited to bottom-dwelling creatures. However, for research purposes, it’s often necessary to keep larval and other surface-swimming animals (plankton) alive. This leads to another problem: helping these animals stay suspended in the water so they don’t get exhausted and die from trying to avoid sinking to the bottom. In nature, this is managed by factors like specific gravity, tides, and surface currents. To address this issue, Mr. E.T. Browne designed a simple but effective piece of equipment; a “plunger,” typically a glass plate or filter funnel, moves slowly up and down in a bell jar or other small tank, pausing between strokes. The movement is powered by a basic bucket-and-siphon setup that uses overflow from other tanks. This apparatus, first implemented at the Plymouth Laboratory of the Marine Biological Association in 1897 and later adopted by similar institutions, creates slight water currents to keep the floating animals suspended and has been very successful in raising larvae and similar tasks.

(G. H. Fo.)

AQUARIUS (the “Water-bearer” or “Cup-bearer”), in astronomy, the eleventh sign of the zodiac (q.v.), situated between Capricornus and Pisces. Its symbol is , representing part of a stream of water, probably in allusion to the fact that when the sun is in this part of the heavens (January, February) the weather is rainy. It is also a constellation mentioned by Eudoxus (4th century B.C.) and Aratus (3rd century B.C.); Ptolemy catalogued forty-five stars, Tycho Brahe forty-one, Hevelius forty-seven. ζ Aquarii is a well-defined binary, having both components of the fourth magnitude; it is probably of long period.

AQUARIUS (the “Water-bearer” or “Cup-bearer”) is, in astronomy, the eleventh sign of the zodiac (q.v.), located between Capricorn and Pisces. Its symbol is , representing part of a stream of water, likely alluding to the fact that when the sun is in this area of the sky (January, February), the weather tends to be rainy. It is also a constellation mentioned by Eudoxus (4th century BCE) and Aratus (3rd century BCE); Ptolemy cataloged forty-five stars, Tycho Brahe forty-one, and Hevelius forty-seven. ζ Aquarii is a well-defined binary star system, with both components being of the fourth magnitude; it is probably of long period.


AQUATINT (Lat. aqua, water, and tincta, dyed), a kind of etching (q.v.) which imitates washes with a brush. There are many ways of preparing a plate for aquatint, the following being recommended by P.G. Hamerton. Have three different solutions of rosin in rectified alcohol, making them of various degrees of strength, but always thin enough to be quite fluid, the weakest solution being almost colourless. First pour the strongest solution on the plate. When it dries it will produce a granulation; and you may now bite as in ordinary etching for your darker tones, stopping out what the acid is not to operate upon, or you may use a brush charged with acid, perchloride of iron being a very good mordant for the purpose. After cleaning the plate, you proceed with the weaker solutions in the same way, the weakest giving the finest granulation for skies, distances, &c. The process requires a good deal of stopping-out, and some burnishing, scraping, &c., at last. Aquatint may be effectively used in combination with line etching, and still more harmoniously with soft ground etching in which the line imitates that of the lead pencil.

AQUATINT (Lat. aqua, water, and tincta, dyed) is a type of etching (q.v.) that mimics brush washes. There are several methods for preparing a plate for aquatint, with the following technique recommended by P.G. Hamerton. Prepare three different solutions of rosin in rectified alcohol, varying them by strength but ensuring they are always fluid enough, with the weakest solution being nearly colorless. Start by pouring the strongest solution on the plate. Once it dries, it will create a grainy texture; then you can etch it like regular etching for darker tones, stopping out areas that you don’t want the acid to affect, or you can apply acid with a brush, using perchloride of iron as a good mordant. After cleaning the plate, use the weaker solutions in the same manner, with the weakest providing the finest granulation for skies, backgrounds, etc. The process involves quite a bit of stopping-out, along with some burnishing, scraping, etc., in the end. Aquatint can be effectively combined with line etching and works even better with soft ground etching, where the line resembles that of a pencil.


AQUAVIVA, CLAUDIO (1542-1615), fifth general of the Jesuits, the youngest son of the duke d’Altri, was born at Naples. He joined the Jesuits at Rome in 1567, and his high administrative 240 gifts marked him out for the highest posts. He was soon nominated provincial of Naples and then of Rome; and during this office he offered to join the Jesuit mission to England that set out under Robert Parsons (q.v.) in the spring of 1580. The following year, being then only thirty-seven years old, he was elected, by a large majority, general of the society in succession to Mercurian, to the great surprise of Gregory XIII.; but the extraordinary political ability he displayed, and the vast increase that came to the Society during his long generalate, abundantly justified the votes of the electors. He, together with Lainez, may be regarded as the real founder of the Society as it is known to history. A born ruler, he secured all authority in his own hands, and insisted that those who prided themselves on their obedience should act up to the profession. In his first letter “On the happy increase of the Society” (25th of July 1581), he treats of the necessary qualifications for superiors, and points out that government should be directed not by the maxims of human wisdom but by those of supernatural prudence. He successfully quelled a revolt among the Spanish Jesuits, which was supported by Philip II., and he made use in this matter of Parsons. A more difficult task was the management of Sixtus V., who was hostile to the Society. By consummate tact and boldness Aquaviva succeeded in playing the king against the pope, and Sixtus against Philip. For prudential reasons, he silenced Mariana, whose doctrine on tyrannicide had produced deep indignation in France; and he also appears to have discountenanced the action of the French Jesuits in favour of the League, and was thus able to secure solid advantages when Henry IV. overcame the confederacy. To him is due the Jesuit system of education in the book Ratio atque institutio studiorum (Rome, 1586). But the Dominicans denounced it to the Inquisition, and it was condemned both in Spain and in Rome, on account of some opinions concerning the Thomist doctrines of the divine physical premotion in secondary causes and predestination. The incriminated chapters were withdrawn in the edition of 1591. In the fierce disputes that arose between the Jesuit theologians and the Dominicans on the subject of grace, Aquaviva managed, under Clement VIII. and Paul V., to save his party from a condemnation that at one time seemed probable. He died at Rome on the 31st of January 1615, leaving the Society numbering 13,000 members in 550 houses and 15 provinces. The subsequent influence exercised by the Jesuits, in their golden age, was largely due to the far-seeing policy of Aquaviva, who is undoubtedly the greatest general that has governed the Society.

AQUAVIVA, CLAUDIO (1542-1615), the fifth head of the Jesuits and the youngest son of the Duke d’Altri, was born in Naples. He joined the Jesuits in Rome in 1567, and his exceptional administrative skills quickly pointed him toward the highest roles. He was soon appointed provincial of Naples and then Rome; during this time, he volunteered to be part of the Jesuit mission to England that left with Robert Parsons (q.v.) in the spring of 1580. The next year, at just thirty-seven, he was elected general of the society by a significant majority, surprising Gregory XIII.; however, the remarkable political talent he showed and the major growth of the Society during his long leadership justified the electors' choice. He, along with Lainez, can be seen as a primary founder of the Society as it is recognized today. A natural leader, he consolidated power in his hands and insisted that those proud of their obedience should adhere to their commitments. In his first letter “On the happy increase of the Society” (July 25, 1581), he discusses the essential qualities for superiors and emphasizes that governance should be guided not by human wisdom but by supernatural insight. He successfully suppressed a rebellion among the Spanish Jesuits, which had the support of Philip II, and he enlisted Parsons to assist with this issue. A more challenging task was managing Sixtus V, who was against the Society. With exceptional skill and boldness, Aquaviva effectively pitted the king against the pope, and Sixtus against Philip. For strategic reasons, he silenced Mariana, whose views on tyrannicide had sparked outrage in France; he also seemed to oppose the actions of the French Jesuits supporting the League, allowing him to secure significant advantages when Henry IV defeated the confederacy. He is credited with the Jesuit education system in the book Ratio atque institutio studiorum (Rome, 1586). However, the Dominicans denounced it to the Inquisition, and it was condemned both in Spain and Rome due to some views regarding Thomist doctrines on divine physical premotion in secondary causes and predestination. The controversial chapters were removed in the 1591 edition. During the intense debates between Jesuit and Dominican theologians over grace, Aquaviva skillfully managed to protect his side from a condemnation that seemed likely under Clement VIII and Paul V. He died in Rome on January 31, 1615, leaving the Society with 13,000 members across 550 houses and 15 provinces. The lasting impact the Jesuits had during their golden age was largely due to the visionary policies of Aquaviva, who undoubtedly stands as the greatest general to have led the Society.

(E. Tn.)

AQUEDUCT (Lat. aqua, water, and ducere, to lead; Gr. ὑδραγωγεῖον, ὑδραγώγιον, ὑπόνομος), a term properly including artificial works of every kind by means of which water is conveyed from one place to another, but generally used in a more limited sense. It is, in fact, rarely employed except in cases where the work is of considerable magnitude and importance, and where the water flows naturally by gravitation. The most important purpose for which aqueducts are constructed is that of conveying pure water, from sources more or less distant, to large masses of population. Aqueducts are either below ground, on the surface, or raised on walls either solid or pierced with arches; to the last the term is often confined in popular language. The choice of method naturally depends on the contour of the country.

AQUEDUCT (Latin aqua, meaning water, and ducere, meaning to lead; Greek water supply system, aqueduct, Not enough context.), a term that generally refers to any man-made structures that transport water from one location to another, though it’s usually used in a more specific way. It's rarely used except for larger and significant projects where water flows naturally by gravity. The main purpose of aqueducts is to bring clean water from distant sources to large populations. Aqueducts can be underground, above ground, or elevated on solid walls or walls with arches; the latter is often what people mean when they say aqueduct. The method chosen usually depends on the landscape of the area.

I. Ancient Aqueducts.—In Egypt, Babylonia and Assyria—flat countries traversed by big rivers and subject to floods—water was supplied by means of open canals with large basins. In Persia devices of all kinds were adopted according Phoenician. to the nature of the country. In relation to the achievements of Greece and Rome, the Phoenicians are the most important among pre-classical engineers. In Cyprus water was supplied to temples by rock-cut subterranean conduits carried across intervening valleys in siphons. Such conduits have been found near Citium, Amathus, &c. (Cesnola, Cyprus, pp. 187, 341). In Syria the most striking of Phoenician waterworks is the well of Ras-el-Ain near Tyre, which consisted of four strong octagonal towers through which rises to a height of 18 to 20 ft. the water from four deep artesian wells. The water thus accumulated was carried off in conduits to reservoirs near the shore, and thence in vessels or skins to the island. The aqueduct across to the island is, of course, of Roman work.

I. Ancient Aqueducts.—In Egypt, Babylonia, and Assyria—flat regions crossed by large rivers and prone to flooding—water was provided through open canals with large basins. In Persia, various devices were used based on the terrain. When it comes to the accomplishments of Greece and Rome, the Phoenicians are the most significant among pre-classical engineers. In Cyprus, water was brought to temples through rock-cut underground channels that crossed valleys using siphons. Such channels have been discovered near Citium, Amathus, etc. (Cesnola, Cyprus, pp. 187, 341). In Syria, the most notable Phoenician waterwork is the well of Ras-el-Ain near Tyre, which featured four strong octagonal towers from which water rises to a height of 18 to 20 ft. from four deep artesian wells. The water collected was sent through conduits to reservoirs near the shore, and then transported in vessels or skins to the island. The aqueduct leading to the island is, of course, of Roman origin.

It is not possible in all cases to find a satisfactory date for the numerous conduits which have supplied Jerusalem; some probably go back to the times of the kings of Judah. The principal reservoir consists of the three Pools of Jerusalem. Solomon which supplied the old aqueduct; the highest is about 20 ft. above the middle one and 40 above the lowest. These pools collected the water from Ain Saleh and other springs, and sent it to the city by two conduits. The higher of these— probably the older—was partly a rock-cut canal, partly carried on masonry; the siphon-pipe system was adopted across the lower ground near Rachel’s Tomb, where the pipe (15 in. wide) is formed of large pierced stones embedded in rubble masonry. The lower conduit is still complete; it winds so much as to be altogether some 20 m. long. Near the Birket-es-Sultan it passes over the valley of Hinnom on nine low arches and reaches the city on the hill above the Tyropeon valley. It enters the Haram enclosure at the Gate of the Chain (Bāb es-Silsila), outside which is a basin 84 ft. by 42 by 24 deep. It is interesting to note in the case of the underground tunnel which brought water from the Virgin’s Fountain to the pool of Siloam, that the two boring parties had no certain means of keeping the line; there is evidence that they had to make shafts to discover their position, and that ultimately the parties almost passed one another. Though the direct distance is 1100 ft., the length of the conduit is over 1700 ft. Perrot and Chipiez incline to attribute the Pools of Solomon to the Asmonaeans, followed by Roman governors, whereas the earlier tunnels of the Kedron and Tyropeon valley may be Punic-Jewish (see also Palest. Explor. Fund Mem., “Jerusalem,” pp. 346-365). Besides these conduits excavation has discovered traces of many other cisterns, tunnels and conduits of various kinds. Many of them point to periods of great prosperity and engineering enterprise which gave to the city a water-supply far superior to that which exists at present.

It’s not always possible to pinpoint a specific date for the many conduits that have supplied Jerusalem; some likely date back to the time of the kings of Judah. The main reservoir consists of the three Pools of Jerusalem. Solomon, which fed the old aqueduct; the highest pool is about 20 feet above the middle one and 40 feet above the lowest. These pools collected water from Ain Saleh and other springs and delivered it to the city through two conduits. The upper conduit—probably the older one—was partly a rock-cut canal and partly built on masonry; a siphon-pipe system was used across the lower ground near Rachel’s Tomb, where the pipe (15 inches wide) is made of large perforated stones set in rubble masonry. The lower conduit is still intact; it winds enough to stretch a total of about 20 meters. Near Birket-es-Sultan, it crosses the valley of Hinnom on nine low arches and reaches the city on the hill above the Tyropeon valley. It enters the Haram enclosure at the Gate of the Chain (Bāb es-Silsila), outside of which is a basin measuring 84 feet by 42 feet and 24 feet deep. It’s interesting to note that for the underground tunnel that brought water from the Virgin’s Fountain to the Pool of Siloam, neither of the drilling teams had reliable methods for keeping their line; evidence suggests they had to create shafts to find their position, and in the end, the teams almost passed each other. Though the straight distance is 1,100 feet, the actual length of the conduit is over 1,700 feet. Perrot and Chipiez believe the Pools of Solomon were built by the Asmonaeans, followed by Roman governors, while the earlier tunnels of the Kedron and Tyropeon valleys may be Punic-Jewish (see also Palest. Explor. Fund Mem., “Jerusalem,” pp. 346-365). In addition to these conduits, excavations have uncovered traces of many other cisterns, tunnels, and conduits of various types. Many of these indicate periods of significant prosperity and engineering achievements that provided the city with a water supply far superior to what exists today.

See the publications of the Palestine Exploration Fund; A.S. Murray’s Handbook to Syria and Palestine (1903), pp. 63-67; Perrot and Chipiez, History of Art in Sardinia, Judaea, &c. (Eng. trans., 1890), pp. 321 ff.; other authorities quoted under Jerusalem.

See the publications of the Palestine Exploration Fund; A.S. Murray’s Handbook to Syria and Palestine (1903), pp. 63-67; Perrot and Chipiez, History of Art in Sardinia, Judaea, &c. (Eng. trans., 1890), pp. 321 ff.; other sources cited under Jerusalem.

The earliest attempts in Europe to solve the problems of water-supply were made by the Greeks, who perhaps derived their ideas from the Phoenicians. It has generally been held, partly on the strength of a passage in Strabo Greek (v. 3. 8, p. 235), and partly owing to the comparative unimportance of the remains discovered, that the Greek works were altogether inferior to the Roman. Research in the Greek towns of Asia Minor, together with a juster appreciation of the remains as a whole, must be held to modify this view. Among the earliest examples of Greek work are the tunnels or emissaria which drained Lake Copais in Boeotia; these, though not strictly aqueducts, were undoubtedly the precursors of such works, consisting as they did of subterranean tunnels (ὑπόνομοι) with vertical shafts (φρεατίαι), sixteen of which are still recognizable, the deepest being about 150 ft. They may be compared with that described by Polybius as conveying water from Taurus to Hecatompylos, and with numerous other remains in Asia Minor, Syria, Phoenicia and Palmyra. Popular legend ascribed them to Cadmus, just as Argos referred the irrigation of its lands to Danaüs. They are undoubtedly of great antiquity.

The earliest efforts in Europe to address water supply issues were made by the Greeks, who likely got their ideas from the Phoenicians. It's generally believed, partly based on a passage by Strabo Greek (v. 3. 8, p. 235), and partly because of how unremarkable the remains found were, that Greek structures were inferior to Roman ones. However, research in the Greek cities of Asia Minor, along with a better appreciation of the remains as a whole, challenges this view. Some of the earliest examples of Greek engineering include the tunnels or emissaria that drained Lake Copais in Boeotia; although not technically aqueducts, these were undoubtedly the forerunners of such structures, made up of underground tunnels (submissions) with vertical shafts (φρεατίαι), sixteen of which are still identifiable, the deepest reaching about 150 ft. They can be compared to the one described by Polybius that carried water from Taurus to Hecatompylos, along with many other remains in Asia Minor, Syria, Phoenicia, and Palmyra. Local legend attributed these to Cadmus, similar to how Argos credited Danaüs with its land irrigation. They are undoubtedly very ancient.

The insufficiency of water, supplied by natural springs and cisterns hewn in the rock, which in an early age had satisfied the small communities of Greece, had become a pressing public question by the time of the Tyrants, of whom Polycrates of Samos and Peisistratus of Athens were distinguished for their wisdom and enterprise in this respect. The former obtained the services of Eupalinus, an engineer celebrated for the skill with which he had carried out the works for the water-supply of Megara (see Athen. Mittheil. xxv., 1900, 23) under the direction of the Tyrant Theagenes (c. 625 B.C.). At Samos the difficulty lay in a hill which rose between the town and the water source. Through this hill Eupalinus cut a tunnel 8 ft. broad, 8 ft. high 241 and 4200 ft. long, building within the tunnel a channel 3 ft. broad and 11 ells deep. The water, flowing by an accurately reckoned declivity, and all along open to the fresh air, was received at the lower end by a conduit of masonry, and so led into the town, where it supplied fountains, pipes, baths, cloacae, &c., and ultimately passed into the harbour (Herod, iii. 60). In Athens, under the rule of the Peisistratids (c. 560-510 B.C.), a similarly extensive, if less difficult, series of works was completed to bring water from the neighbouring hills to supplement the inadequate supply from the springs. From Hymettus were two conduits passing under the bed of the Ilissus, most of the course being cut in the rock. Pentelicus, richer in water, supplied another conduit, which can still be traced from the modern village of Chalandri by the air shafts built several feet above the ground, and at a distance apart of 130-160 ft.; the diameter of these shafts is 4-5 ft., and the number of them still preserved is about sixty. Tributary channels conveyed into the main stream the waters of the district through which it passed. Outside Athens, those two conduits met in a large reservoir, from which the water was distributed by a ramification of underground channels throughout the city. These latter channels vary in form, being partly round, partly square, and generally walled with stone; the chief one is sufficiently large for two men to pass in it. The precise location of the reservoir depends on the value of Dr Wilhelm Dörpfeld’s theory as to the site of the Enneacrunus of Thucydides and Pausanias (see Athens: Topography and Antiquity). Dörpfeld places it south-west of the Acropolis, where there is a cistern connected with an aqueduct which passed under the theatre of Dionysus and on towards the Ilissus (see map under Athens). Others have placed it south of the Olympieum in the Ilissus bed. Beside these works water was brought from Pentelicus in an underground conduit begun by the emperor Hadrian and completed by Antoninus Pius. This aqueduct is still in use, having been repaired in 1869.

The shortage of water, provided by natural springs and cisterns carved into the rock, which had once met the needs of small communities in Greece, became a significant public issue by the time of the Tyrants, notably Polycrates of Samos and Peisistratus of Athens, who were recognized for their wisdom and initiative in this area. Polycrates hired Eupalinus, an engineer known for his expertise in constructing the water supply system for Megara (see Athen. Mittheil. xxv., 1900, 23) under the guidance of the Tyrant Theagenes (c. 625 BCE). In Samos, the challenge was a hill that stood between the town and the water source. Eupalinus cut a tunnel through this hill that was 8 ft. wide, 8 ft. high, and 4200 ft. long, creating a channel inside the tunnel that was 3 ft. wide and 11 ells deep. The water flowed through this channel, at a carefully calculated slope, and remained exposed to the fresh air until it reached a masonry conduit at the lower end, which directed it into the town to supply fountains, pipes, baths, sewers, etc., ultimately flowing into the harbor (Herod, iii. 60). In Athens, during the reign of the Peisistratids (c. 560-510 BCE), a similarly extensive but less challenging series of works was completed to bring water from the nearby hills to supplement the insufficient supply from the springs. Two conduits from Hymettus ran beneath the bed of the Ilissus, most of the course cut from rock. Another conduit from Pentelicus, which had a greater water supply, can still be traced from the modern village of Chalandri through the air shafts built several feet above ground, spaced 130-160 ft. apart; these shafts have a diameter of 4-5 ft., with about sixty still standing. Tributary channels directed water from the surrounding areas into the main stream. Outside Athens, these two conduits converged in a large reservoir, from which water was distributed through a network of underground channels throughout the city. These channels vary in shape, being partly round and partly square, and are generally lined with stone; the main channel is large enough for two people to pass through. The exact location of the reservoir is tied to the significance of Dr. Wilhelm Dörpfeld’s theory regarding the site of the Enneacrunus mentioned by Thucydides and Pausanias (see Athens: Topography and Antiquity). Dörpfeld suggested it was located southwest of the Acropolis, near a cistern linked to an aqueduct that passed beneath the theater of Dionysus and continued toward the Ilissus (see map under Athens). Others have argued it to be south of the Olympieum in the bed of the Ilissus. Additionally, water was transported from Pentelicus via an underground conduit initiated by Emperor Hadrian and completed by Antoninus Pius. This aqueduct is still operational, having been repaired in 1869.

In Sicily, the works by which Empedocles, it is said, brought the water into the town of Selinus, are no longer visible; but it is probable that, like those of Syracuse, they consisted chiefly of tunnels and pipes laid under the ground. Syracuse was supplied by two aqueducts, one of which the Athenians destroyed (Thuc. vi. 100). One was fed by an affluent (the mod. Buttigliara) of the Anapus (mod. Anapo); it carried the water up to the top of Epipolae, where the channel was open, and thence down to the city and finally into the harbour. The other also ascends to the top of Epipolae, skirts the city on the north, and then proceeds along the coast. Its course is marked by rectangular shafts (spiragli) at the bottom of which water is still visible.

In Sicily, the structures built by Empedocles to bring water into the town of Selinus are no longer visible; however, it's likely that, similar to those in Syracuse, they mainly consisted of tunnels and pipes buried underground. Syracuse was supplied by two aqueducts, one of which was destroyed by the Athenians (Thuc. vi. 100). One aqueduct was fed by a tributary (the modern Buttigliara) of the Anapus (modern Anapo); it brought water to the top of Epipolae, where the channel was open, and then down into the city and finally into the harbor. The other aqueduct also rises to the top of Epipolae, runs along the north side of the city, and then continues along the coast. Its route is indicated by rectangular openings (spiragli) at the bottom of which water is still visible.

An example of what appears to have been the earliest form of aqueduct in Greece was discovered in the island of Cos beside the fountain Burinna (mod. Fountain of Hippocrates) on Mount Oromedon. It consists of a bell-shaped chamber, built underground in the hill-side, to receive the water of the spring and keep it cool; a shaft from the top of the chamber supplied fresh air. From this reservoir the water was led by a subterranean channel, 114 ft. long and 6½ ft. high.

An example of what seems to be the earliest form of aqueduct in Greece was found on the island of Cos next to the fountain Burinna (now known as the Fountain of Hippocrates) on Mount Oromedon. It features a bell-shaped chamber built underground into the hillside to collect the spring water and keep it cool; a shaft at the top of the chamber provided fresh air. From this reservoir, the water was directed through an underground channel that is 114 ft. long and 6½ ft. high.

(J. M. M.)

In comparing Greek and Roman aqueducts, many writers have enlarged on the greatness of the latter as an example of Roman contempt for natural obstacles, or even of Roman ignorance of the laws of nature. Now, in the Roman. first place, the Romans were not unacquainted with the law that water finds its own level (see Pliny, Hist. Nat. xxxi. 57, “subit altitudinem exortus sui”), and took full advantage of it in the construction of lofty fountains and the supplying of the upper floors of houses. That they built aqueducts across valleys in preference to carrying pipes underground was due simply to economy. Pipes had to be made of lead which was weak, or of bronze which was expensive; and the Romans were not sufficiently expert in the casting of large pipes which would stand a very great pressure to employ them for the whole course of a great aqueduct. Secondly, the water was so extremely hard that it was important that the channels should be readily accessible for repair as well as for the detection of leakage.1 Moreover, as we shall see, the Roman aqueducts did not, in fact, preserve a straight line regardless of the configuration of the country. A striking example is the aqueduct of Nemausus (Nîmes), the springs of which are some 10 m. from the town, though the actual distance traversed is about 25. Other devices, such as changing the level and then modifying the slope, and siphon arrangements of various kinds, were adopted (as in the aqueduct at Aspendus).

When comparing Greek and Roman aqueducts, many writers have emphasized the superiority of the latter as an example of Roman disregard for natural obstacles or even a lack of understanding of the laws of nature. First, the Romans definitely understood the principle that water seeks its own level (see Pliny, Hist. Nat. xxxi. 57, “subit altitudinem exortus sui”) and made full use of it in building tall fountains and supplying upper floors of buildings. The reason they built aqueducts across valleys instead of burying pipes underground was purely economical. Pipes had to be made from lead, which was weak, or bronze, which was costly; and the Romans were not skilled enough in creating large pipes that could withstand very high pressure to use them for the entire length of a major aqueduct. Secondly, the water was so very hard that it was crucial for the channels to be easily accessible for repairs as well as for finding leaks. Moreover, as we will see, the Roman aqueducts did not actually maintain a straight line no matter the lay of the land. A notable example is the aqueduct of Nemausus (Nîmes), whose springs are about 10 m from the town, while the actual distance covered is around 25. Other methods, such as adjusting the level and modifying the slope, as well as various siphon systems, were utilized (as seen in the aqueduct at Aspendus).

Sextus Julius Frontinus, appointed curator aquarum in A.D. 97, mentions in his treatise de aquaeductibus urbis Romae (on the aqueducts of the city of Rome) nine aqueducts as being in use in his time (the lengths of the aqueducts as given here follow his measurements). These are: (1) Aqua Appia, which took its rise between the 6th and 7th milestones of the Via Collatina, and measured from its source to the Porta Trigemina 11 Roman miles, of which all but about 300 ft. were below ground. It appears to have been the first important enterprise of the kind at Rome, and was the work of the censor Appius Claudius Caecus, from whom it derived its name. The date of its construction was 312 B.C. (2) Anio Vetus, constructed in 272-269 B.C. by the censor Manius Curius Dentatus. From its source near Tivoli, on the left side of the Anio, it flowed some 43 m.,2 of which only 1100 ft. was above ground. At the distance of 2 m. from Rome (Frontinus, i. 21), it parted into two courses, one of which led to the horti Asiniani, and was thence distributed; while the other (rectus ductus) led by the temple of Spes to the Porta Esquilina. (3) Aqua Marcia, reconstructed in 1869-1870 under the name of Acqua Pia or Marcia-Pia after Pius IX. (though from Tivoli to Rome the modern aqueduct takes an entirely different course), rising on the left side of the Via Valeria near the 36th milestone. It traversed 61¾ m., of which 54¼ were underground, and for the remaining distance was carried partly on substructions and partly on arches. It was the work of the praetor Quintus Marcius Rex (144-140 B.C.), not of Ancus Marcius, the fourth king of Rome, as Pliny (N.H. xxxi. 3) fancied, and took its name from its constructor. Its waters were celebrated for their coolness and excellent quality. Its volume was largely increased by Augustus, who added to it the Aqua Augusta; and it was repaired and restored by Titus, Septimus Severus, Caracalla and Diocletian. (4) Aqua Tepula, from its source (now known as Sorgente Preziosa) in the district of Tusculum, to Rome, was some 11 m. in length. The first portion of its course must have been almost entirely subterranean and is not now traceable. For the last 6½ m. it ran on the same series of arches that carried the Aqua Marcia, but at a higher level. It was the work of the censors Cn. Servilius Caepio and L. Cassius Longinus, and was completed in the year 125 B.C. Its water is warm (about 63° Fahr.) and not of the best quality. (5) The Aqua Julia, from a source 2 m. from that of the Tepula, joined its course at the 10th milestone of the Via Latina. The combined stream, after a distance of 4 m., was received in a reservoir, and then once more divided into two channels. The entire length of the Julia was 15½ m. It was constructed in the year 33 B.C. by M. Vipsanius Agrippa, who also built the (6) Aqua Virgo which, from its origin at a copious spring in a marsh on the Via Collatina, measured 14 m. in length; it was conveyed in a channel, partly under and partly above ground. It was begun in the year 33 B.C. and was celebrated for the excellence of its waters. It was restored to use by Pius V. in 1570. (7) Aqua Alsietina or Augusta, the source of which is the Lacus Alsietinus (mod. Lago di Martignano), to the north of Rome, was over 22 m. in length, of which 358 paces were on arches. It was the work of Augustus, probably with the object of furnishing water for his naumachia (a basin for sham sea-fights), and not for drinking purposes. Its course is 242 unknown, as no remains of it exist, but an inscription relating to it is given in Notizie d. Scant (1887), p. 182. (8, 9) The Aqua Claudia and Anio Novus were two aqueducts begun by Caligula in A.D. 38 and completed by Claudius in A.D. 52. The springs of the former belonged to the same group as those of the Marcia, and were situated near the 38th milestone of the Via Sublacensis, not far from its divergence from the Via Valeria, while the original intake of the latter from the river Anio was 4 m. farther along the same road. As the water was thick it was collected in a purifying tank, and 4 m. below, a branch stream, the Rivus Herculaneus, was added to it. According to Frontinus, over 10 m. of the course of the Claudia and nearly 9½ of that of the Anio Novus were above ground. Seven miles out of Rome they united and ran from that point into Rome, following a natural isthmus formed by a lava stream from the Alban volcano, upon a line of arches, which still forms one of the most conspicuous features of the Campagna. The original inscription of Claudius (A.D. 52) on the Porta Maggiore, by which the Aqua Claudia and Anio Novus crossed the Via Praenestina and the Via Labicana, gives the length of the Aqua Claudia as 45 m., and that of the Anio Novus as 62 m. Frontinus, on the other hand, gives 46.406 m. (i.e. about 43 English miles) and 58.700 m. (i.e. about 54 English miles). Albertini (Mélanges de l’École Française, 1906, 305) explains the difference as due to the fact that Frontinus was calculating the length of the Claudia from the farthest spring, the Fons Albudinus, and that of the Anio Novus from the new intake constructed by Trajan in one of the three lakes constructed by Nero for the adornment of his villa above Subiaco. Two other inscriptions on the Porta Maggiore record restorations by Vespasian in A.D. 70, and by Titus in A.D. 80. That the aqueducts should be spoken of as vetustate dilapsi so soon after their construction is not a little surprising, and may be attributed either to hasty construction in order to complete them by a fixed date, or to jobbery by the imperial freedmen who under Claudius were especially powerful, or to the fact that a line of arches intended originally in all probability for the Aqua Claudia alone was made to carry the Anio Novus as well.

Sextus Julius Frontinus, appointed curator aquarum in CE 97, mentions in his treatise de aquaeductibus urbis Romae (on the aqueducts of the city of Rome) nine aqueducts that were in use during his time (the lengths of the aqueducts as listed here adhere to his measurements). These are: (1) Aqua Appia, which originated between the 6th and 7th milestones of the Via Collatina, and measured 11 Roman miles from its source to the Porta Trigemina, of which all but about 300 ft. were underground. It seems to have been the first major project of its kind in Rome, built by the censor Appius Claudius Caecus, from whom it got its name. It was constructed in 312 BCE (2) Old Year's Day, built between 272-269 B.C. by the censor Manius Curius Dentatus. From its source near Tivoli, on the left side of the Anio, it flowed roughly 43 m., of which only 1100 ft. was above ground. 2 m. from Rome (Frontinus, i. 21), it split into two branches, one leading to the horti Asiniani and then distributed, while the other (rectus ductus) went by the temple of Spes to the Porta Esquilina. (3) Aqua Marcia, rebuilt in 1869-1870 under the name Acqua Pia or Marcia-Pia after Pius IX. (though the modern aqueduct runs a completely different route from Tivoli to Rome), begins on the left side of the Via Valeria near the 36th milestone. It traveled 61¾ m., of which 54¼ were underground, and the remaining distance was carried partly on substructures and partly on arches. It was the work of praetor Quintus Marcius Rex (144-140 BCE), not of Ancus Marcius, the fourth king of Rome, as Pliny (N.H. xxii. 3) mistakenly believed, and it was named after its builder. The waters were famous for their coolness and quality. Its volume was significantly increased by Augustus, who added the Aqua Augusta; it was repaired and restored by Titus, Septimus Severus, Caracalla, and Diocletian. (4) Aqua Tepula, from its source (now known as Sorgente Preziosa) in the Tusculum area, was about 11 m. long. The first part of its route must have been almost entirely underground and is not currently traceable. For the last 6½ m., it ran on the same series of arches that supported Aqua Marcia, but at a higher level. This was built by the censors Cn. Servilius Caepio and L. Cassius Longinus, and it was finished in 125 BCE Its water is warm (around 63° Fahrenheit) and not of the best quality. (5) The Aqua Julia, sourced 2 m. from that of the Tepula, joined its flow at the 10th milestone of the Via Latina. The combined stream was collected in a reservoir after covering 4 m., and then split into two channels again. The total length of the Julia was 15½ m. It was built in 33 BCE by M. Vipsanius Agrippa, who also constructed the (6) Aqua Virgo, which came from a large spring in a marsh on the Via Collatina and measured 14 m. in length; it was conveyed in a channel, partly underground and partly above ground. It was started in 33 BCE and was known for the quality of its waters. It was restored for use by Pius V in 1570. (7) Aquatic plant or Augusta, coming from the Lacus Alsietinus (modern Lago di Martignano) north of Rome, was over 22 m. long, with 358 paces on arches. It was built by Augustus, likely to supply water for his naumachia (a basin for staged sea battles), rather than for drinking. Its route is 242 unknown, since no remains exist, but an inscription related to it is recorded in Notizie d. Scant (1887), p. 182. (8, 9) The Aqua Claudia and New Year were two aqueducts initiated by Caligula in CE 38 and completed by Claudius in A.D. 52. The springs for the former were in the same group as those of the Marcia and were located near the 38th milestone of the Via Sublacensis, close to where it diverged from the Via Valeria, while the original intake for the latter from the Anio river was 4 m. further along that same road. Since the water was thick, it flowed into a purification tank, and 4 m. downstream, a branching stream, the Rivus Herculaneus, was added. According to Frontinus, over 10 m. of the Claudia's course and nearly 9½ of the Anio Novus's were above ground. Seven miles out of Rome, they merged and ran together into the city, following a natural isthmus formed by a lava flow from the Alban volcano on a line of arches, which still stands as one of the most stunning features of the Campagna. The original inscription by Claudius (CE 52) on the Porta Maggiore, where the Aqua Claudia and Anio Novus crossed the Via Praenestina and the Via Labicana, states the Aqua Claudia's length as 45 m. and the Anio Novus's as 62 m. Frontinus, on the other hand, provides measurements of 46.406 m. (i.e. about 43 English miles) and 58.700 m. (i.e. about 54 English miles). Albertini (Mélanges de l’École Française, 1906, 305) attributes the discrepancy to Frontinus calculating the Claudia's length from the farthest spring, the Fons Albudinus, and the Anio Novus's length from the new source created by Trajan in one of the three lakes made by Nero for enhancing his villa above Subiaco. Two other inscriptions on the Porta Maggiore record restorations by Vespasian in CE 70 and by Titus in CE 80. It's quite surprising that these aqueducts are referred to as vetustate dilapsi so soon after their construction, which may be due to rushed work to meet a deadline, corrupt practices by imperial freedmen who were particularly influential under Claudius, or the fact that a series of arches originally intended for the Aqua Claudia was also used for the Anio Novus.

The size of the channels (specus) of the principal aqueducts varies considerably at different points of their course. The Anio Novus has the largest of them all, measuring 3 to 4 ft. wide and 9 ft. high to the top of the roof, which is pointed. They are lined with hard cement (opus signinum) containing fragments of broken brick. Those aqueducts of which the most conspicuous remains exist in the neighbourhood of Rome are the four from the upper valley of the Anio, the two which took their supply and their name from the river itself, and the Marcia and the Claudia, which originated from the same group of springs, in the floor of the Anio valley 6 m. below Subiaco. Those of the Anio Vetus, which travelled at a considerably lower level than the other three, are the least conspicuous, while the Claudia and Anio Novus as a rule kept close together, the latter at the highest level of all. The ruins of bridges and substructions in the Anio valley down to Tivoli, though comparatively little known, are of great importance. In all the aqueducts the original construction of the bridges was in opus quadratum (masonry), while the substructions are in brick-faced concrete; but the bridges are as a rule strengthened (and often several times) with reinforcing walls of concrete faced with opus reticulatum or brickwork. Below Tivoli, where the Anio leaves its narrow valley, the aqueducts sweep round towards the Alban hills, and pass through some very difficult country between Tivoli and Gallicano, alternately crossing ravines, some of which are as much as 300 ft. deep, and tunnelling through hills.3

The size of the channels (specus) of the main aqueducts varies quite a bit at different points along their path. The Anio Novus has the largest channel, measuring 3 to 4 feet wide and 9 feet high to the top of its pointed roof. They are lined with hard cement (opus signinum) that includes fragments of broken brick. The most notable remains of aqueducts near Rome include the four from the upper valley of the Anio, the two that draw their supply and name from the river itself, and the Marcia and the Claudia, which originated from the same springs located 6 meters below Subiaco in the Anio valley. The Anio Vetus, which ran at a much lower level than the other three, is the least prominent, while the Claudia and Anio Novus typically stayed close together, with the latter at the highest level. The ruins of bridges and substructures in the Anio valley down to Tivoli, although not well-known, are quite significant. In all the aqueducts, the original construction of the bridges was in opus quadratum (masonry), while the substructures are made of brick-faced concrete. However, the bridges are generally reinforced (sometimes multiple times) with supporting walls of concrete faced with opus reticulatum or brickwork. Below Tivoli, where the Anio exits its narrow valley, the aqueducts curve toward the Alban hills and navigate some quite challenging terrain between Tivoli and Gallicano, alternating between crossing ravines that are up to 300 feet deep and tunneling through hills.3

The engineering skill displayed is remarkable, and one wonders what instruments were employed—probably the so-called chorobates, an improvement upon the ordinary water-level (Vitruvius viii. 6), though this would be slow and complicated. The optical properties of glass lenses were, however, unknown to the ancients, and the dioptra, or angle measure, was considered by Vitruvius less trustworthy than the chorobates for the planning of aqueducts (cf. E. Hultsch, s.v. in Pauly-Wissowa, Real-encyclopädie). The aqueducts as a rule were carried on separate bridges, though all four united at the Ponte Lupo, a huge structure, which after the addition of all the four, and with the inclusion of all the later strengthening walls that were found necessary in course of time, measures 105 ft. in height, 508 in length, and 46 in thickness at the bottom, without including the buttresses. From Gallicano onwards the course of these four aqueducts follows the lower slopes of the Alban Hills. Previous writers on the subject have been unable to determine their course, which is largely subterranean; but it can be followed step by step with the indications given by the presence of the calcareous deposit which was thrown out at the putei or shafts (which were, as a rule, placed at intervals of 240 ft., as were the cippi) when the specus was cleaned; and remains of bridges, though less important, owing to the less difficult character of the country, are not entirely absent (cf. the works by T. Ashby cited in bibliography).4 Near the 7th milestone of the Via Latina at Le Capanelle, the Aqua Claudia and Anio Novus emerge from their underground course, and run into Rome upon the long series of arches already mentioned, passing over the Porta Maggiore. The Claudia sent off an important branch from the Porta Maggiore over the Caclian to the Palatine, but the main aqueduct soon reached its termination. A mile farther on the Aqua Marcia also, owing to the gradual slope of the ground towards Rome, begins to be supported on arches, which were also used to carry the Aqua Tepula and the Aqua Julia (of the two latter, before their junction with the Marcia, no remains exist above ground, but inscribed cippi of the last named and its underground channel have been found at Le Capanelle, and cippi also close to its springs, which are a little way above Grottaferrata at Gli Squarciarelli). The Anio Vetus followed the same line, but kept underground (as was natural at the early period at which it was constructed) until the immediate neighbourhood of Rome, near the locality known as “ad Spem veterem” (from a temple of Spes, of which no remains are known) close to the Porta Maggiore. At this point, besides the aqueducts named, the Aqua Appia, as we are told by Frontinus, entered the city, and received an important branch, the Appia Augusta. No remains of either have been discovered outside the city.

The engineering skill shown is impressive, and you can't help but wonder what tools were used—probably the so-called chorobates, an upgrade on the regular water-level (Vitruvius viii. 6), although this would be slow and complicated. The ancients were unaware of the optical properties of glass lenses, and Vitruvius considered the dioptra, or angle measure, less reliable than the chorobates for planning aqueducts (cf. E. Hultsch, s.v. in Pauly-Wissowa, Real-encyclopädie). Generally, the aqueducts were carried on separate bridges, though all four came together at the Ponte Lupo, a massive structure that, after the addition of all four and the necessary later reinforcing walls, stands 105 ft. tall, 508 ft. long, and 46 ft. thick at the base, excluding the buttresses. From Gallicano onward, the route of these four aqueducts follows the lower slopes of the Alban Hills. Previous authors on the topic have struggled to trace their path, which is mostly underground; however, it can be tracked step by step thanks to the calcareous deposits found at the putei or shafts (typically placed every 240 ft., along with the cippi) when the specus was cleaned. Remains of bridges, while less significant due to the easier terrain, are still not completely absent (cf. the works by T. Ashby listed in the bibliography). Near the 7th milestone of the Via Latina at Le Capanelle, the Aqua Claudia and Anio Novus surface from their underground course and flow into Rome via the long series of arches previously mentioned, passing over the Porta Maggiore. The Claudia branched off a significant line from the Porta Maggiore over the Caclian to the Palatine, but the main aqueduct soon reached its endpoint. A mile further on, the Aqua Marcia, due to the gradual slope toward Rome, also starts to be supported by arches, which were also used to carry the Aqua Tepula and Aqua Julia (there are no above-ground remains of the latter two before they merge with the Marcia, but inscribed cippi from the latter and its underground channel have been discovered at Le Capanelle, as well as cippi near its springs, which are located slightly above Grottaferrata at Gli Squarciarelli). The Anio Vetus followed the same line but remained underground (as was typical during the early period of its construction) until it reached the vicinity of Rome, near the area known as “ad Spem veterem” (named after a temple of Spes, of which no remains are known) close to the Porta Maggiore. At this junction, in addition to the aqueducts mentioned, the Aqua Appia, as noted by Frontinus, entered the city and received an important branch, the Appia Augusta. No remains of either have been found outside the city.

The Aqua Alexandrina must also have entered the city here, though its channel, which lay at some depth below ground, has not been discovered. Considerable remains of its brick aqueducts exist in the district between the Via Praenestina and the Via Labicana.

The Aqua Alexandrina must have also come into the city here, although its channel, which was located quite deep underground, hasn't been found. A significant amount of its brick aqueduct remains can still be seen in the area between the Via Praenestina and the Via Labicana.

Of the two aqueducts on the right bank of the Tiber, the Alsietina, as we have said, has no remains at all, while those of the Traiana are not of great importance. The line of the aqueducts was marked by cippi, inscribed (in the case of the Anio Vetus, Marcia, Tepula, Julia and Virgo—those of the Claudia and Anio Novus are uninscribed, and those of the Traiana are differently worded) with the name of the aqueduct, the distance from the next cippus (generally 240 ft.) and the number, counting from Rome (not from the springs). These boundary stones were erected in pairs, to mark off the strip of land 30 ft. in width reserved for the aqueduct, and for the road or path which generally followed it. The shafts (putei) often stood, but not necessarily, at the same points as the cippi.

Of the two aqueducts on the right bank of the Tiber, the Alsietina, as we mentioned, has no remains at all, while those of the Traiana aren’t very significant. The route of the aqueducts was marked by cippi, inscribed (for the Anio Vetus, Marcia, Tepula, Julia, and Virgo—those of the Claudia and Anio Novus are uninscribed, and those of the Traiana have different wording) with the name of the aqueduct, the distance to the next cippus (usually 240 ft.), and the number, counting from Rome (not from the springs). These boundary stones were put up in pairs to mark the strip of land 30 ft. wide reserved for the aqueduct, as well as for the road or path that generally followed it. The shafts (putei) often stood, but not necessarily, at the same points as the cippi.

To these nine must be added the two following, constructed after Frontinus’s time: (10) Aqua Traiana, from springs to the north-west of the Lacus Sabatinus (Lago di Bracciano), constructed by Trajan in A.D. 109, about 36½ English miles in length. It was restored by Paul V. in 1611, who made use of and largely transformed the remains of the ancient aqueduct; he allowed some of the inferior water of the lake to flow into the channel, and it is thus no longer used for drinking. (11) Aqua Alexandrina, 243 rising about 14 English miles from Rome, between the Via Praenestina and the Via Labicana, the work of Alexander Severus (A.D. 226). The springs now supply the modern Acqua Felice, constructed by Sixtus V. in 1585, but the course of the latter is mainly subterranean and not identical with that of the former.

To these nine, we need to add the following two, built after Frontinus's time: (10) Aqua Traiana, sourced from springs northwest of the Lacus Sabatinus (Lago di Bracciano), built by Trajan in CE 109, and measuring about 36½ English miles long. It was restored by Paul V. in 1611, who utilized and largely altered the remains of the ancient aqueduct; he allowed some of the lake's lower-quality water to flow into the channel, so it is no longer used for drinking. (11) Alexandria Water, 243 located about 14 English miles from Rome, between the Via Praenestina and the Via Labicana, was built by Alexander Severus (A.D. 226). The springs now supply the modern Acqua Felice, constructed by Sixtus V. in 1585, but the route of the latter is mostly underground and differs from that of the former.

Plate I.

Plate I.

Photo, Altnari.
AQUA CLAUDIA, ROME.
Photo, Neurdein.
PONT DU CARD, NÎMES (NEMAUSUS).

Plate II.

Plate II.

Photo, Laureat y Cia.
ROMAN AQUEDUCT AT SEGOVIA.
Photo, Brogi.
PISCINA MIRABILIS AT BAIAE.
AQUEDUCT OF ROQUEFAVOUR, MARSEILLES.
Early 1800s.
Photo, Dr T. Ashby.
AQUA MARCIA, ROME.

It is agreed that these eleven are all that were constructed. Procopius speaks of fourteen (and the Regionary catalogues mention others), but this number includes branch conduits. All the aqueducts ended in the city in huge castella or reservoirs for the purpose of distribution. Vitruvius recommends the division of these into three parts—one for the supply of fountains, &c., one for the public baths and one for private consumers. In the Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele at Rome there are still to be seen the remains of a large ornamental fountain built probably for the Aqua Julia by Domitian or Alexander Severus (Jordan-Hülsen, Topographie, i. 3350). Besides these main castella there were also many minor castella in various parts of the city for sub-distribution. To allow the water to purify itself before being distributed in the city, filtering and settling tanks (piscinae limariae) were built outside the walls. These piscinae were covered in with a vaulted roof, and were sometimes on a very large scale, as in the example still preserved at Fermo, which consists of two stories, each having three oblong basins communicating with each other; or the Piscina Mirabilis at Baiae, which is covered in by a vaulted roof, supported on forty-eight pillars and perforated to permit the escape of foul air. Two stairs lead by forty steps to the bottom of the reservoir. In the middle of the basin is a sinking to collect the deposit of the water. The walls and pillars are coated with a stucco so hard as to resist a tool.

It is agreed that these eleven are all that were built. Procopius talks about fourteen (and the regional catalogs mention others), but this number includes branch conduits. All the aqueducts ended in the city in huge castella or reservoirs for distribution purposes. Vitruvius suggests dividing these into three parts—one for supplying fountains, another for public baths, and one for private users. In the Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele in Rome, the remains of a large ornamental fountain, likely built for the Aqua Julia by Domitian or Alexander Severus, can still be seen (Jordan-Hülsen, Topographie, i. 3350). Besides these main castella, there were also many smaller castella throughout the city for further distribution. To let the water purify itself before being distributed in the city, filtering and settling tanks (piscinae limariae) were built outside the walls. These piscinae were covered with a vaulted roof and could be quite large, like the example still found in Fermo, which has two stories, each with three oblong basins that connect with one another; or the Piscina Mirabilis at Baiae, which is topped by a vaulted roof supported by forty-eight pillars with holes to allow foul air to escape. Two staircases with forty steps lead down to the bottom of the reservoir. In the center of the basin, there is a depression to collect sediment. The walls and pillars are coated with a remarkably hard stucco that can withstand tools.

The oversight of aqueducts was placed, in the times of the republic, under the aediles, who were not, however, the constructors of them; of the four aqueducts built during this period, three are the work of censors, one (the Marcia) of a praetor. Under the empire this task devolved on special officials styled Curatores Aquarum, instituted by Augustus, who, as he himself says, “rivos aquarum omnium refecit” (inscription on the arch by which the Aqua Marcia crossed the Via Tiburtina).

The responsibility for aqueducts was given to the aediles during the republic, although they were not the ones who built them. Out of the four aqueducts constructed during this time, three were created by censors, and one (the Marcia) by a praetor. Under the empire, this duty was handed over to special officials called Curatores Aquarum, established by Augustus, who, as he states, “refurbished all the water channels” (inscription on the arch where the Aqua Marcia crossed the Via Tiburtina).

(T. As.)

Among the aqueducts outside Italy, constructed in Roman times and existing still, the most remarkable are: (1) the aqueduct at Nîmes (Nemausus), erected probably by Vipsanius Agrippa in the time of Augustus, which rose to 160 ft. The Pont du Card, as this aqueduct is now called, consists of three tiers of arches across the valley of the river Gardon. In the lowest tier are six arches, of which one has a span of 75 ft., the others each 60 ft. In the second tier are eleven arches, each with a span of 75 ft. In the third tier are thirty-five smaller arches which carried the specus. As a bridge, the Pont du Gard has no rival for lightness and boldness of design among the existing remains of works of this class carried out in Roman times. (2) The aqueduct bridges at Segovia (Merckel, Ingenieurtechnik, pp. 566-568), Tarragona (ibid. 565-566), and Merida in Spain, the former being 2400 ft. long, with 109 arches of fine masonry, in two tiers, and reaching the height of 102 ft. The bridge at Tarragona is 876 ft. long and 83 ft. high. (3) At Mainz are the ruins of an aqueduct 7000 yds. long, about half of which is carried on from 500 to 600 pillars (Archaeological Journal, xlvii., 1890, pp. 211-214). This aqueduct was built by the XIVth legion and was for the use of the camp, not for the townspeople. For the similar aqueduct at Luynes see Arch. Journ. xlv. (1888), pp. 235-237. Similar witnesses of Roman occupation are to be seen in Dacia, Africa (see especially under Carthage), Greece and Asia Minor. (4) The aqueduct at Jouy-aux-Arches, near Metz, which originally extended across the Moselle, here very broad, conveyed to the city an abundance of excellent water from Gorze. From a large reservoir at the source of the aqueduct the water passed along subterranean channels built of hewn stone, and sufficiently spacious for a man to walk in them upright. Similar channels received the water after it had crossed the Moselle by this bridge, at the distance of about 6 m. from Metz, and conveyed it to the city. The bridge consisted of only one row of arches nearly 60 ft. high. The middle arches have given way under the force of the water, but the others are still perfectly solid. This aqueduct is probably to be attributed to the latter half of the 4th century A.D. It is for the use of the town; hence its size. (5) One of the principal bridges of the aqueduct of Antioch in Syria is 700 ft. long, and at the deepest point 200 ft. high. The lower part consists almost entirely of solid wall, and the upper part of a series of arches with very massive pillars. The masonry and design are rude. The water supply was drawn from several springs at a place called Beit el-Ma (anc. Daphne) about 4 or 5 m. from Antioch. From these separate springs the water was conducted by channels of hewn stone into a main channel, similarly constructed, which traversed the rest of the distance, being carried across streams and valleys by means of arches or bridges. (6) At the village of Moris, about an hour’s distance north-west from the town of Mytilene, is the bridge of an aqueduct, carried by massive pillars built of large hewn blocks of grey marble, and connected by means of three rows of arches, of which the uppermost is of brick. The bridge extended about 500 ft. in length, and at the deepest point was from 70 to 80 ft. high. Judged by the masonry and the graceful design, it has been thought to be a work of the age of Augustus. Remains of this aqueduct are to be seen at Larisson Lamarousia, an hour’s distance from Moris, and at St Demetri, two hours and a half from Ayasos, on the road to Vasilika.

Among the aqueducts outside Italy that were built during Roman times and still exist today, the most notable are: (1) the aqueduct at Nîmes (Nemausus), likely constructed by Vipsanius Agrippa during Augustus's reign, which rises to 160 ft. The Pont du Gard, as it’s now called, features three tiers of arches spanning the valley of the river Gardon. The bottom tier has six arches, one with a 75 ft. span and the others each at 60 ft. The second tier has eleven arches, each spanning 75 ft. The top tier includes thirty-five smaller arches supporting the specus. As a bridge, the Pont du Gard stands unmatched in terms of lightness and bold design among existing Roman structures. (2) The aqueduct bridges at Segovia (Merckel, Ingenieurtechnik, pp. 566-568), Tarragona (ibid. 565-566), and Merida in Spain also impress, with the first being 2400 ft. long with 109 beautifully crafted arches in two tiers, reaching heights of 102 ft. The Tarragona bridge stretches 876 ft. long and rises to 83 ft. (3) In Mainz, the ruins of an aqueduct measuring 7000 yards long exist, with about half supported by 500 to 600 pillars (Archaeological Journal, xlvi., 1890, pp. 211-214). This aqueduct was built by the XIVth legion for the camp's use rather than for the citizens. For a similar aqueduct at Luynes, see Arch. Journ. xlv. (1888), pp. 235-237. Other remnants of Roman presence can be found in Dacia, Africa (especially under Carthage), Greece, and Asia Minor. (4) The aqueduct at Jouy-aux-Arches, near Metz, originally spanned the wide Moselle and supplied the city with plentiful high-quality water from Gorze. From a large reservoir at the aqueduct’s source, water flowed through underground channels made of hewn stone, spacious enough for a person to walk upright. Similar channels collected the water after it crossed the Moselle via this bridge, about 6 miles from Metz, and delivered it to the city. The bridge featured a single row of arches nearly 60 ft. high. The middle arches have collapsed under the water's pressure, but the others remain intact. This aqueduct likely dates back to the latter half of the 4th century CE and was intended for the town's use, explaining its size. (5) One of the main bridges of the aqueduct of Antioch in Syria stretches 700 ft. long and reaches a height of 200 ft. at its deepest point. The lower section mainly consists of solid walls, while the upper part features a series of arches built with massive pillars. The masonry and design are rough. The water supply came from several springs at a location called Beit el-Ma (ancient Daphne), about 4 or 5 miles from Antioch. From these springs, water was redirected through channels made of hewn stone into a main channel, which continued the journey, crossing streams and valleys using arches or bridges. (6) Near the village of Moris, about an hour north-west of Mytilene, lies the bridge of an aqueduct supported by robust pillars constructed from large hewn blocks of gray marble, connected by three rows of arches, with the top row made of brick. The bridge extends approximately 500 ft. in length and stands 70 to 80 ft. high at its deepest point. Based on the masonry and elegant design, it is believed to date back to the time of Augustus. Remnants of this aqueduct can also be found at Larisson Lamarousia, an hour away from Moris, and at St. Demetri, two and a half hours from Ayasos, along the route to Vasilika.

The whole subject of the ancient and medieval aqueducts of Asia Minor has been considered in great detail by G. Weber (“Wasserleitungen in kleinasiatischen Städten,” in the Jahrbuch des kaiserl. deutsch. archäolog. Instit. xix., 1904; see also earlier articles in Jahrbuch, 1892, Asia Minor. 1899). The aqueducts examined are those at Pergamum, Laodicea and Smyrna (in the earlier articles), and those at Metropolis (Ionia), Tralles (Aidin), Antioch-on-Maeander, Aphrodisias, Trapezopolis, Hierapolis, Apamea Cibotus and Antioch in Pisidia. In most of these cases it is difficult or even impossible to decide whether the work is Hellenistic or Roman; to the Romans Weber inclines to attribute, e.g. those at Metropolis, Tralles (perhaps), Aphrodisias; to the Greeks, e.g. those at Antioch-on-Maeander and Antioch in Pisidia. Since, therefore, a detailed description of these remains does not provide material for any satisfactory generalizations as to the distinctive features of Hellenistic and Roman work, it will be sufficient here to mention a few of the more interesting discoveries.

The entire topic of the ancient and medieval aqueducts in Asia Minor has been explored extensively by G. Weber (“Wasserleitungen in kleinasiatischen Städten,” in the Jahrbuch des kaiserl. deutsch. archäolog. Instit. xix., 1904; see also earlier articles in Jahrbuch, 1892, 1899). The aqueducts studied include those at Pergamum, Laodicea, and Smyrna (in the earlier articles), and those at Metropolis (Ionia), Tralles (Aidin), Antioch-on-Maeander, Aphrodisias, Trapezopolis, Hierapolis, Apamea Cibotus, and Antioch in Pisidia. In most of these cases, it's challenging or even impossible to determine whether the construction is Hellenistic or Roman; Weber tends to attribute the aqueducts at Metropolis, Tralles (possibly), and Aphrodisias to the Romans, while the ones at Antioch-on-Maeander and Antioch in Pisidia are attributed to the Greeks. Therefore, since a detailed description of these remains does not provide material for any satisfactory generalizations about the distinctive features of Hellenistic and Roman work, it will suffice to mention a few of the more interesting discoveries.

In the case of Metropolis, the aqueduct in the valley of the Astraeus consisted of an arcade about 13 to 16 ft. high. Nearer to the town in the hills there are distinct traces of a canal with brick walls. It is clear that the water could not have served more than the lower parts of the town, the acropolis of which is nearly 200 ft. above the level of the conduit. In the case of Tralles the water was supplied by a high pressure conduit and distributed from the acropolis, where there are the remains of a basin (13 ft. by 10) arched over with brick. The ancient aqueduct is to be distinguished from a later, probably Byzantine, canal conduit, the course of which avoids the deeper depressions, crossed by the old aqueduct. Of the Antioch-on-Maeander aqueduct only a few clay-pipes remain, and the same is true of the aqueduct which was built by Carminius in the 2nd century A.D. to supply the community when reinforced by the amalgamation of Plarasa and Tauropolis; two of its basins are still distinguishable, but the two water-towers which are still standing belong to a later Byzantine structure. Trapezopolis was supplied from Mt. Salbacus (Baba Dagh): some twenty stone-pipes have been found built into a low wall which varies from 3¼ to about 5 ft. wide. Of the pillars which carried the conduit-pipe to Antioch in Pisidia, nineteen are still standing. Each arch consists of eleven keystones; no cement was used. The conduit, which was high-pressure, ends in a distributing tower and reservoir.

In Metropolis, the aqueduct in the Astraeus valley had an arcade that was about 13 to 16 ft. high. Closer to the town in the hills, there are clear signs of a canal with brick walls. It's obvious that the water could only reach the lower parts of the town, while the acropolis is nearly 200 ft. above the level of the conduit. In Tralles, water was supplied by a high-pressure conduit and distributed from the acropolis, where there are the remains of a basin (13 ft. by 10) covered with a brick arch. The ancient aqueduct is different from a later canal, likely Byzantine, that avoids the deeper areas crossed by the old aqueduct. For the Antioch-on-Maeander aqueduct, only a few clay pipes are left, and the same goes for the aqueduct built by Carminius in the 2nd century Ad. to supply the community after the merging of Plarasa and Tauropolis; two of its basins are still recognizable, but the standing water-towers belong to a later Byzantine structure. Trapezopolis received water from Mt. Salbacus (Baba Dagh), where about twenty stone pipes have been found built into a low wall that ranges from 3¼ to about 5 ft. wide. Of the columns that supported the conduit-pipe to Antioch in Pisidia, nineteen are still intact. Each arch consists of eleven keystones, and no cement was used. The high-pressure conduit ends in a distributing tower and reservoir.

(J. M. M.)

II. Medieval.—The aqueduct near Spoleto, which now serves also as a bridge, is deserving of notice as an early instance of the use of the pointed arch, belonging as it does to the 7th or 8th 244 century. It has ten arches, remarkable for the elegance of their design and the airy lightness of their proportions, each over 66 ft. in span, and about 300 ft. in height.

II. Medieval.—The aqueduct near Spoleto, which now also functions as a bridge, is noteworthy as an early example of the use of the pointed arch, dating back to the 7th or 8th century. It features ten arches, distinguished by the elegance of their design and the airy lightness of their proportions, each spanning over 66 ft. and standing about 300 ft. tall.

The aqueduct of Pyrgos, near Constantinople, is a remarkable example of works of this class carried out in the later times of the Roman empire, and consisted of two branches. From this circumstance it was called Egri Kemer Constantinople. (“the Crooked Aqueduct”), to distinguish it from the Long Aqueduct, situated near the source of the waters. One of the branches extends 670 ft. in length, and is 106 ft. in height at the deepest part. It is composed of three tiers of arches, those in each row increasing in width from the bottom to the top—an arrangement very properly introduced with the view of saving materials without diminishing the strength of the work. The two upper rows consisted of arches of semicircles, the lower of Gothic arches; and this circumstance leads to the belief that the date of the structure is about the 10th century. The breadth of the building at the base was 21 ft., and it diminished with a regular batter on each side to the top, where it was only 11 ft. The base also was protected by strong buttresses or counterforts, erected against each of the pillars. The other branch of the aqueduct was 300 ft. long, and consisted of twelve semicircular arches. This aqueduct serves to convey to Constantinople the waters of the valley of Belgrad, one of the principal sources from which the city is supplied. These are situated on the heights of Mount Haemus, the extremity of the Balkan Mountains, which overhangs the Black Sea. The water rises about 15 m. from the city, and between 3 and 4 m. west of the village of Belgrad, in three sources, which run in three deep and very confined valleys. These unite a little below the village, and then are collected into a large reservoir. After flowing a mile or two from this reservoir, the waters are augmented by two other streams, and conveyed by a channel of stone to the Crooked Aqueduct. From this they are conveyed to another which is the Long Aqueduct; and then, with various accessions, into a third, termed the Aqueduct of Justinian. From this they enter a vaulted conduit, which skirts the hills on the left side of the valley, and crosses a broad valley 2 m. below the Aqueduct of Justinian, by means of an aqueduct, with two tiers of arches of a very beautiful construction. The conduit then proceeds onward in a circuitous route, till it reaches the reservoir of Egri Kapu, situated just without and on the walls of the city. From this the water is conducted to the various quarters of the city, and also to the reservoir of St Sophia, which supplies the seraglio of the grand signior. The Long Aqueduct (Usun Kemer) is more imposing by its extent than the Crooked one, but is far inferior in the regularity of design and disposition of the materials. It is evidently a work of the Turks. It consists of two tiers of arches, the lower being forty-eight in number, and the upper fifty. The whole length was about 2200 ft., and the height 80 ft. The aqueduct of Justinian (Muallak Kemer or “Hanging Aqueduct”) is without doubt one of the finest monuments which remain to us of the middle ages. It consists of two tiers of large pointed arches, pierced transversely. Those of the lower story have 55 ft. of span, the upper ones 40 ft. The piers are supported by strong buttresses, and at different heights they have little arches passing through them laterally, which relieve the deadness of the solid pillar. The length of this aqueduct is 720 ft. and the height 108 ft. This aqueduct has been attributed both to Constantine I. and to Justinian, the latter being perhaps the more probable.

The Pyrgos aqueduct, located near Constantinople, is an impressive example of infrastructure built during the later years of the Roman Empire and features two branches. Because of this, it was named Egri Kemer Istanbul. (“the Crooked Aqueduct”), distinguishing it from the Long Aqueduct near the water source. One branch stretches 670 feet long and reaches a height of 106 feet at its highest point. It has three tiers of arches, with the width of each row increasing from bottom to top—this design was cleverly chosen to save materials while maintaining the structure's strength. The two upper rows feature semicircular arches, while the lower row has Gothic arches, suggesting that the aqueduct was built around the 10th century. The structure's base is 21 feet wide and narrows at a consistent angle to just 11 feet at the top. It is reinforced with strong buttresses against each pillar. The other branch of the aqueduct is 300 feet long and made up of twelve semicircular arches. This aqueduct supplies water from the Belgrad Valley to Constantinople, one of the city's main water sources. These originate from the heights of Mount Haemus, the end of the Balkan Mountains, overlooking the Black Sea. The water springs up about 15 meters from the city and between 3 and 4 meters west of Belgrad village, from three sources that flow through deep, narrow valleys. The waters converge just below the village and are channeled into a large reservoir. After traveling a mile or two from this reservoir, the flow is supplemented by two other streams and directed through a stone channel to the Crooked Aqueduct. From there, it moves on to the Long Aqueduct, and with various additions, it enters a third, called the Aqueduct of Justinian. It then flows into a vaulted conduit that runs alongside the hills on the left side of the valley and crosses a broad valley 2 miles below the Aqueduct of Justinian via an aqueduct featuring two tiers of elegantly designed arches. The conduit continues on a winding path until it reaches the Egri Kapu reservoir, located right outside the city walls. From here, the water is distributed to different areas of the city and to the St. Sophia reservoir, which supplies the Sultan's palace. The Long Aqueduct (Usun Kemer) is more impressive in its length than the Crooked Aqueduct but is significantly less regular in design and material arrangement. It is clearly a Turkish construction, comprised of two tiers of arches, with forty-eight in the lower level and fifty in the upper. Its total length is about 2,200 feet, with a height of 80 feet. The aqueduct of Justinian (Muallak Kemer or “Hanging Aqueduct”) is undoubtedly one of the finest surviving monuments from the Middle Ages. It includes two tiers of large pointed arches that are pierced transversely. The lower tier spans 55 feet, while the upper spans 40 feet. The piers are supported by strong buttresses and feature small arches at various heights that cut through them, adding visual relief to the solid structure. This aqueduct measures 720 feet in length and stands 108 feet tall. It has been credited to both Constantine I and Justinian, with the latter possibly being the more likely builder.

Besides the waters of Belgrad, Constantinople was supplied from several other principal sources, one of which took its rise on the heights of the same mountains, 3 or 4 m. east of Belgrad. This was conveyed in a similar manner by an arched channel elevated, when it was necessary, on aqueduct bridges, till it reached the northern parts of the city. It was in the course of this aqueduct that the contrivance of the souterasi or hydraulic obelisks, described by Andréossy (on his voyage to the Black Sea, the account of the Thracian Bosporus), was constructed, which excited some attention, as being an improvement on the method of conducting water by aqueduct bridges. “The souterasi,” says Andréossy, “are masses of masonry, having generally the form of a truncated pyramid or an Egyptian obelisk. To form a conduit with souterasi, we choose sources of water, the level of which is several feet higher than the reservoir by which it is to be distributed over the city. We bring the water from its sources in subterranean canals, slightly declining until we come to the borders of a valley or broken ground. We there raise on each side a souterasi, to which we adapt vertically leaden pipes of determinate diameters, placed parallel to the two opposite sides of the building. These pipes are disjoined at the upper part of the obelisk, which forms a sort of basin, with which the pipes are connected. The one permits the water to rise to the level from whence it had descended; by the other, the water descends from this level to the foot of the souterasi, where it enters another canal underground, which conducts it to a second and to a third souterasi, where it rises and again descends, as at the last station. Here a reservoir receives it and distributes it in different directions by orifices of which the discharge is known.” Again he says, “it requires but little attention to perceive that this system of conducting tubes is nothing but a series of siphons open at their upper part, and communicating with each other. The expense of a conduit by souterasi is estimated at only one-fifth of that of an aqueduct with arcades.” There seems to be really no advantage in these pyramids, further than as they serve the purpose of discharging the air which collects in the pipes. They are in themselves an evident obstruction, and the water would flow more freely without any interruption of the kind. In regard to the leaden pipes, again, they would have required, with so little head pressure as is stated, to be used of very extraordinary dimensions to pass the same quantity of water as was discharged along the arched conduits (see also works quoted under Constantinople). The other principal source from which Constantinople is supplied, is from the high grounds 6 or 8 m. west of the town, from which it is conducted by conduits and arches, in the same manner as the others. The supply drawn from all these sources, as detailed by Andréossy, amounted to 400,000 cubic ft. per day.

Besides the waters of Belgrad, Constantinople was supplied from several other main sources, one of which originated on the heights of the same mountains, about 3 or 4 miles east of Belgrad. This water was transported similarly through an arched channel, elevated on aqueduct bridges when needed, until it reached the northern parts of the city. It was during this aqueduct's construction that the design of the souterasi or hydraulic obelisks, described by Andréossy in his journey to the Black Sea along the Thracian Bosporus, was developed, attracting some attention for being an improvement over traditional aqueduct bridges. “The souterasi,” says Andréossy, “are large masonry structures, typically shaped like a truncated pyramid or an Egyptian obelisk. To create a conduit with souterasi, we select water sources that are several feet higher than the reservoir from which the water will be distributed throughout the city. We channel the water from these sources through underground canals, slightly sloped until we reach the edge of a valley or uneven terrain. There, we raise a souterasi on each side, connecting vertical lead pipes of specific diameters that run parallel along the two opposite sides of the structure. These pipes are separated at the top of the obelisk, creating a basin that connects them. One pipe allows the water to rise back to the level from which it came, while the other lets the water descend to the base of the souterasi, where it enters another underground canal that carries it to a second and a third souterasi, where it rises and then descends again, just like at the previous station. Here, a reservoir collects the water and distributes it in various directions through outlets with known discharge rates.” He continues, “it takes little effort to see that this system of tubes is essentially a series of siphons open at the top and interconnected. The cost of a conduit using souterasi is estimated to be just one-fifth of that of an aqueduct with arches.” However, it seems these pyramids offer no real benefit other than helping to release the air that accumulates in the pipes. They are a clear obstruction, and the water would flow more smoothly without such interruptions. Likewise, concerning the lead pipes, they would need to be of very large dimensions to deliver the same amount of water that flowed through the arched conduits, especially with the low pressure stated (see also works quoted under Constantinople). The other main source for Constantinople's water comes from the elevated land 6 to 8 miles west of the city, from which it is also carried through conduits and arches in the same way as the other sources. The total supply from all these sources, as outlined by Andréossy, amounts to 400,000 cubic feet per day.

(A. S. M.; J. M. M.)

III. Modern Construction.—Where towns are favourably situated the aqueduct may be very short and its cost bear a relatively small proportion to the total outlay upon a scheme of water supply, but where distant sources have to be relied upon Aqueducts and water supply. the cost of the aqueduct becomes one of the most important features in the scheme, and the quantity of water obtainable must be considerable to justify the outlay. Hence it is that only very large towns can undertake the responsibility for this expenditure. In Great Britain it has in all large schemes become a condition that, when a town is permitted to go outside its own watershed, it shall, subject to a priority of a certain number of gallons per day per head of its own inhabitants, allow local authorities, any part of whose district is within a certain number of miles of the aqueduct, to take a supply on reasonable terms. The first case in which this principle was adopted on a large scale was the Thirlmere scheme sanctioned by parliament in 1879, for augmenting the supply of Manchester. The previous supply was derived from a source only about 15 m. distant, and the cost of the aqueduct, chiefly cast-iron pipes, was insignificant compared with the cost of the impounding reservoirs. But Thirlmere is 96 m. distant from the service reservoir near Manchester, and the cost of the aqueduct was more than 90% of the total cost. As a supply of about 50,000,000 gallons a day is available the outlay was justifiable, and the water is in fact very cheaply obtained. Liverpool derives a supply of about 40,000,000 gallons a day from the river Vyrnwy in North Wales, 68 m. distant, and Birmingham has constructed works for impounding water in Radnorshire, and conveying it a distance of 74 m., the supply being about 75,000,000 gallons a day. In the year 1899 an act of parliament was passed authorizing the towns of Derby, Leicester, Sheffield and Nottingham, jointly to obtain a supply of water from the head waters of the river Derwent in Derbyshire. Leicester is 60 m. distant from this source, and its share of the supply is about 10,000,000 gallons a day. For more than half the distance, however, the aqueduct 245 is common to Derby and Nottingham, which together are entitled to about 16,000,000 gallons a day, and the expense to Leicester is correspondingly reduced. These are the most important cases of long aqueducts in England, and all are subsequent to 1879. It is obvious, therefore, how greatly the design and construction of the aqueduct have grown in importance, and what care must be Exercised in order that the supply upon which such large populations depend may not be interrupted, and that the country through which such large volumes of water are conveyed may not be flooded in consequence of the failure of any of the works.

III. Modern Construction.—In towns that are well-located, the aqueduct can be quite short and its cost becomes a relatively small part of the overall investment in a water supply system. However, when towns rely on distant sources, the cost of the aqueduct becomes a major factor in the project, and the amount of water available needs to be significant to justify the expenses involved. This is why only very large towns can take on such costs. In Great Britain, it has become standard that when a town is allowed to source water beyond its own watershed, it must, while prioritizing a specific number of gallons per day for its own residents, allow nearby local authorities, whose areas are within a certain distance from the aqueduct, to access water at reasonable rates. The first major instance of this principle was the Thirlmere scheme, authorized by parliament in 1879, to increase water supply for Manchester. Previously, the water supply came from a source just about 15 miles away, and the cost of the aqueduct, mainly made of cast-iron pipes, was minor compared to the expense of the storage reservoirs. But Thirlmere is 96 miles from the service reservoir near Manchester, and the cost of the aqueduct accounted for over 90% of the total expenditure. With about 50 million gallons available daily, the investment was warranted, and the water is indeed very economical. Liverpool receives about 40 million gallons a day from the river Vyrnwy in North Wales, located 68 miles away, while Birmingham has built facilities to store water in Radnorshire and transport it 74 miles, providing around 75 million gallons daily. In 1899, a parliamentary act was passed allowing the towns of Derby, Leicester, Sheffield, and Nottingham to collectively access water from the headwaters of the river Derwent in Derbyshire. Leicester is 60 miles from this source, and its portion of the supply is about 10 million gallons a day. For more than half the distance, the aqueduct is shared between Derby and Nottingham, which together have rights to about 16 million gallons a day, thus lowering the costs for Leicester. These are the key examples of long aqueducts in England, all occurring after 1879. It is clear how essential the planning and construction of aqueducts have become, and the care needed to ensure that the supply on which such large populations rely remains uninterrupted, while also preventing flooding in regions through which these large volumes of water flow if any part of the system fails.

Practically only two types of aqueduct are used in England. The one is built of concrete, brickwork, &c., the other of cast-iron (or, in special circumstances, steel) pipes. In the former type the water surface coincides with the Construction. hydraulic gradient, and the conditions are those of an artificial river; the aqueduct must therefore be carefully graded throughout, so that the fall available between source and termination may be economically distributed. This condition requires that the ground in which the work is built shall be at the proper elevation; if at any point this is not the case, the aqueduct must be carried on a substructure built up to the required level. Such large structures are, however, extremely expensive, and require elaborate devices for maintaining water-tightness against the expansion and contraction of the masonry due to changes of temperature. They are now only used where their length is very short, as in cases where mountain streams have to be crossed, and even these short lengths are avoided by some engineers, who arrange that the aqueduct shall pass, wherever practicable, under the streams. Where wide valleys interrupt the course of the built aqueduct, or where the absence of high ground prevents the adoption of that type at any part of the route, the cast-iron pipes hereafter referred to are used.

Practically only two types of aqueduct are used in England. One type is made of concrete, brick, etc., while the other consists of cast-iron (or, in special situations, steel) pipes. In the former type, the water surface aligns with the hydraulic gradient, and the conditions mimic those of an artificial river; therefore, the aqueduct needs to be carefully graded throughout so that the available fall between the source and endpoint can be distributed efficiently. This requirement means that the ground where the work is built must be at the right elevation; if it isn't at any point, the aqueduct must be supported on a substructure raised to the necessary level. However, these large structures are very expensive and require complex systems to keep them watertight against the expansion and contraction of the masonry caused by temperature changes. They are now only used where their length is very short, like when crossing mountain streams, and even these short sections are avoided by some engineers, who prefer to design the aqueduct to pass, whenever possible, under the streams. Where wide valleys disrupt the path of the built aqueduct or where a lack of high ground makes that type unsuitable at any part of the route, the cast-iron pipes mentioned later are used.

The built aqueduct may be either in tunnel, or cut-and-cover, the latter term denoting the process of cutting the trench, building the floor, side-walls, and roof, and covering with earth, the surface of the ground being restored Masonry aqueducts. as before. For works conveying water for domestic supply, the aqueduct is in these days, in England, always covered. Where, as is usually the case, the water is derived from a tract of mountainous country, the tunnel work is sometimes very heavy. In the case of the Thirlmere aqueduct, out of the first 13 m. the length of the tunnelled portions is 8 m., the longest tunnel being 3 m. in length. Conditions of time, and the character of the rock, usually require the use of machinery for driving, at any rate in the case of the longer tunnels. For the comparatively small tunnels required for aqueducts, two percussion drilling machines are usually mounted on a carriage, the motive power being derived from compressed air sent up the tunnel in pipes. The holes when driven are charged with explosives and fired. In the Thirlmere tunnels, driven through very hard Lower Silurian strata, the progress was about 13 yds. a week at each face, work being carried on continuously day and night for six days a week. Where the character of the country through which the aqueduct passes is much the same as that from which the supply is derived, the tunnels need not be lined with concrete, &c., more than is absolutely necessary for retaining the water and supporting weak places in the rock; the floor, however, is nearly always so treated. The lining, whether in tunnel or cut-and-cover, may be either of concrete, or brickwork, or of concrete faced with brickwork. To ensure the impermeability of work constructed with these materials is in practice somewhat difficult, and no matter how much care is taken by those supervising the workmen, and even by the workmen themselves, it is impossible to guarantee entire freedom from trouble in this respect. With a wall only about 15 in. thick, any neglect is certain to make the work permeable; frequently the labourers do not distribute the broken stone and fine material of the concrete uniformly, and no matter how excellent the design, the quality of materials, &c., a leak is sure to occur at such places (unless, indeed, the pressure of the outside water is superior and an inflow occurs). A further cause of trouble lies in the water which flows from the strata on to the concrete, and washes away some of the cement upon which the work depends for its watertightness, before it has time to set. For this reason it is advisable to put in the floor before, and not after, the sidewalls and arch have been built, otherwise the only outlet for the water in the strata is through the ground on which the floor has to be laid. Each length of about 20 ft. should be completely constructed before the next is begun, the water then having an easy exit at the leading end. Manholes, by which the aqueduct can be entered, are usually placed in the roof at convenient intervals; thus, in the case of the Thirlmere aqueduct, they occur at every quarter of a mile.

The aqueduct can be built as either a tunnel or a cut-and-cover system. The cut-and-cover method involves digging a trench, constructing the floor, side walls, and roof, and then covering everything with earth, restoring the ground surface to its original state. Brick aqueducts. Nowadays, in England, aqueducts supplying domestic water are always covered. When water comes from mountainous regions, the tunneling can be quite extensive. For the Thirlmere aqueduct, out of the initial 13 miles, 8 miles are tunnel sections, with the longest tunnel measuring 3 miles. Timing and rock quality often necessitate using machinery for tunneling, especially for longer tunnels. For shorter tunnels required for aqueducts, two percussion drilling machines are typically mounted on a carriage, powered by compressed air sent through pipes to the tunnel. The drilled holes are charged with explosives and detonated. In the Thirlmere tunnels, which pass through very hard Lower Silurian rock, the advancement was about 13 yards per week at each face, with work continuing day and night for six days a week. When the terrain through which the aqueduct runs is similar to the source area, the tunnels don’t need to be lined with concrete or similar materials more than what's strictly necessary to hold in the water and support weak areas of rock; the floor is almost always reinforced though. The lining for tunnels or cut-and-cover sections can be made from concrete, brick, or concrete with a brick facade. Ensuring these materials are watertight is quite challenging, and despite the careful supervision of both overseers and workers, it’s impossible to completely avoid issues in this regard. With a wall thickness of only about 15 inches, any oversight can lead to leaks. Often, laborers don’t distribute the crushed stone and fine concrete materials evenly, and no matter how well-designed or high-quality the materials are, leaks will likely happen at those points (unless the outside water pressure is higher, causing inflow). Additional issues can arise from water seeping from the surrounding rock onto the concrete, washing away some of the cement needed for waterproofing before it sets properly. Therefore, it's best to install the floor before building the sidewalls and arch, as doing it afterward would leave the only drainage for the subsoil water through the ground where the floor needs to be placed. Each section, roughly 20 feet long, should be fully constructed before starting the next one, allowing water an easy exit at the front end. Manholes for entering the aqueduct are typically installed in the roof at convenient intervals; for instance, in the Thirlmere aqueduct, they are found every quarter-mile.

In some parts of America aqueducts are frequently constructed of wood, being then termed flumes. These are probably more extensively used in California than in any other part of the world, for conveying large quantities of water Timber aqueducts. which is required for hydraulic mining, for irrigation, for the supply of towns and for transporting timber. The flumes are frequently carried along precipitous mountain slopes, and across valleys, supported on trestles. In Fresno county, California, there is a flume 52 m. in length for transporting timber from the Sierra Nevada Mountains to the plain below; it has a rectangular V-shaped section, 3 ft. 7 in. wide at the top, and 21 in. deep vertically. The boards which form the sides are 1¼ in. thick, and some of the trestlework is 130 ft. high. The steepest grade occurs where there is a fall of 730 ft. in a length of 3000 ft. About 9,000,000 ft. of timber were used in the construction. At San Diego there is a flume 35 m. long for irrigation and domestic supply, the capacity being 50 ft. per second; it has 315 trestle bridges (the longest of which is that across Los Coches Creek, 1794 ft. in length and 65 ft. in height) and 8 tunnels, and the cost was $900,000. The great bench flume of the Highline canal, Colorado, is 2640 ft. in length, 28 ft. wide, and 7 ft. deep; the gradient is 5.28 ft. per mile, and the discharge 1184 ft. per second.

In some parts of America, aqueducts are often made of wood and are called flumes. These are probably used more extensively in California than anywhere else in the world, for transporting large amounts of water needed for hydraulic mining, irrigation, supplying towns, and moving timber. The flumes are often built along steep mountain slopes and across valleys, supported by trestles. In Fresno County, California, there is a flume 52 meters long that carries timber from the Sierra Nevada Mountains to the flat land below; it has a rectangular V-shaped cross-section, measuring 3 feet 7 inches wide at the top and 21 inches deep. The boards that make up the sides are 1¼ inches thick, and some of the trestle work is 130 feet high. The steepest incline occurs where there is a drop of 730 feet over a distance of 3,000 feet. About 9,000,000 board feet of timber were used in its construction. In San Diego, there is a flume 35 meters long used for irrigation and domestic water supply, with a capacity of 50 cubic feet per second; it has 315 trestle bridges (the longest being across Los Coches Creek, which is 1,794 feet long and 65 feet high) and 8 tunnels, with a total cost of $900,000. The large bench flume of the Highline Canal in Colorado is 2,640 feet long, 28 feet wide, and 7 feet deep; the gradient is 5.28 feet per mile, and the discharge rate is 1,184 cubic feet per second.

As previously stated, the type of aqueduct built of concrete, &c., can only be adopted where the ground is sufficiently elevated to carry it, and where the quantity of water to be conveyed makes it more economical than piping. Where the falling contour Aqueduct in iron piping. is interrupted by valleys too wide for a masonry structure above the surface of the ground, the detached portions of the built aqueduct must be connected by rows of pipes laid beneath, and following the main undulations of, the surface. In such cases the built aqueduct terminates in a chamber of sufficient size to enclose the mouths of the several pipes, which, thus charged, carry the water under the valley up to a corresponding chamber on the farther hillside from which the built aqueduct again carries on the supply. These connecting pipes are sometimes called siphons, although they have nothing whatever to do with the principle of a siphon, the water simply flowing into the pipe at one end and out at the other under the influence of gravity, and the pressure of the atmosphere being no element in the case. The pipes are almost always made of cast-iron, except in such cases as the lower part of some siphons, where the pressure is very great, or where they are for use abroad, when considerations of weight are of importance, and when they are made of rolled steel with riveted or welded seams. It is frequently necessary to lay them in deep cuttings, in which case cast-iron is much better adapted for sustaining a heavy weight of earth than the thinner steel, though the latter is more adapted to resist internal pressure. Mr D. Clarke (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxviii. p. 93) gives some particulars of a riveted steel pipe 24 m. long, 33 to 42 in. diameter, varying in thickness from 0.22 in. to 0.375 in. After a length of 9 m. had been laid, and the trench refilled, it was found that the crown of the pipe had been flattened by an amount varying from ½ in. to 4 in. Steel pipes suffer more from corrosion than those made of cast-iron, and as the metal attacked is much thinner the strength is more seriously reduced. These considerations have prevented any general change from cast-iron to steel.

As mentioned earlier, the type of aqueduct made of concrete can only be used where the ground is high enough to support it and where the amount of water to be transported makes it more cost-effective than using pipes. When the downward slope is interrupted by valleys that are too wide for an above-ground masonry structure, the separate sections of the aqueduct must be connected by lines of pipes placed underground, following the main contours of the land. In these cases, the built aqueduct ends in a chamber large enough to house the openings of the various pipes, which then transport the water under the valley to a corresponding chamber on the opposite hillside, from which the built aqueduct continues to supply water. These connecting pipes are sometimes referred to as siphons, although they don't actually operate on siphon principles; the water simply flows into one end of the pipe and out the other due to gravity, with atmospheric pressure playing no role. The pipes are usually made of cast iron, except for cases where the lower part of some siphons experiences very high pressure or where they are used overseas, in which case weight is a concern, and they are made of rolled steel with riveted or welded seams. Often, they need to be laid in deep trenches, and in these situations, cast iron is much better suited to bear a heavy load of soil compared to thinner steel, even though steel is better at resisting internal pressure. Mr. D. Clarke (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxviii. p. 93) provides details about a riveted steel pipe 24 m long, with a diameter of 33 to 42 in., varying in thickness from 0.22 in. to 0.375 in. After 9 m had been laid and the trench was refilled, it was discovered that the top of the pipe had been flattened by amounts ranging from ½ in. to 4 in. Steel pipes corrode more than those made of cast iron, and since the metal affected is thinner, their strength is more significantly compromised. These factors have prevented a widespread shift from cast iron to steel.

Mr. Clemens Herschel has made some interesting remarks (Proc. Inst. C.E. vol. cxv. p. 162) as to the circumstances in which steel 246 pipes have been found preferable to cast-iron. He says that it had been demonstrated by practice that cast-iron cannot compete with wrought-iron or steel pipes in the states west of the Rocky Mountains, on the Pacific slope. This is due to the absence of coal and iron ore in these states, and to the weight of the imported cast-iron pipes compared with steel pipes of equal capacity and strength. The works of the East Jersey Water Company for the supply of Newark, N.J., include a riveted steel conduit 48 in. in diameter and 21 m. long. This conduit is designed to resist only the pressure due to the hydraulic gradient, in contradistinction to that which would be due to the hydrostatic head, this arrangement saving 40% in the weight and cost of the pipes. For the supply of Rochester, N.Y., there is a riveted steel conduit 36 in. in diameter and 20 m. long; and for Allegheny City, Pennsylvania, there is a steel conduit 5 ft. in diameter and nearly 10 m. long. The works for bringing the water from La Vigne and Verneuil to Paris include a steel main 5 ft. in diameter between St. Cloud and Paris.

Mr. Clemens Herschel has made some interesting comments (Proc. Inst. C.E. vol. cxv. p. 162) about the situations in which steel pipes are preferred over cast iron. He states that it has been proven through experience that cast iron cannot compete with wrought iron or steel pipes in the states west of the Rocky Mountains, on the Pacific coast. This is because there is a lack of coal and iron ore in these states, and the weight of the imported cast-iron pipes is greater than that of steel pipes of equal capacity and strength. The East Jersey Water Company’s infrastructure for supplying Newark, N.J., includes a riveted steel conduit that is 48 inches in diameter and 21 meters long. This conduit is built to withstand only the pressure from the hydraulic gradient, unlike the pressure from the hydrostatic head, which saves 40% in both weight and cost of the pipes. For Rochester, N.Y., there is a riveted steel conduit that measures 36 inches in diameter and 20 meters long; and for Allegheny City, Pennsylvania, a steel conduit that is 5 feet in diameter and almost 10 meters long. The project for bringing water from La Vigne and Verneuil to Paris includes a steel main that is 5 feet in diameter between St. Cloud and Paris.

Cast-iron pipes rarely exceed 48 in. in diameter, and even this diameter is only practicable where the pressure of the water is low. In the Thirlmere aqueduct the greatest pressure is nearly 180 ℔ on the square inch, the pipes where this occurs being 40 in. in diameter and 1¾ in. thick. These large pipes, which are usually made in lengths of 12 ft., are generally cast with a socket at one end for receiving the spigot end of the next pipe, the annular space being run with lead, which is prevented from flowing into the interior of the pipe by a spring ring subsequently removed; the surface of the lead is then caulked all round the outside of the pipe. A wrought-iron ring is sometimes shrunk on the outer rim of the socket, previously turned to receive it, in order to strengthen it against the wedging action of the caulking tool. Sometimes the pipes are cast as plain tubes and joined with double collars, which are run with lead as in the last case. The reason for adopting the latter type is that the stresses set up in the thicker metal of the socket by unequal cooling are thereby avoided, a very usual place for pipes to crack under pressure being at the back of the socket. The method of turning and boring a portion, slightly tapered, of spigot and socket so as to ensure a watertight junction by close annular metallic contact, is not suitable for large pipes, though very convenient for smaller diameters in even ground. Spherical joints are sometimes used where a line of main has to be laid under a large river or estuary, and where, therefore, the pipes must be jointed before being lowered into the previously dredged trench. This was the case at the Willamette river, Portland, Oregon, where a length of 2000 ft. was required. The pipes are of cast-iron 28 in. in diameter, 1½ in. thick, and 17 ft. long. The spigots were turned to a spherical surface of 20 in. radius outside, the inside of the sockets being of a radius 38 in. greater. After the insertion of the spigot into the socket, a ring, 3 in. deep, turned inside to correspond with the socket, was bolted to the latter, the annular space then being run with lead. These pipes were laid on an inclined cradle, one end of which rested on the bed of the river and the other on a barge where the jointing was done; as the pipes were jointed the barge was carefully advanced, thus trailing the pipes into the trench (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxiii. p. 257). As may be conjectured from the pressure which they have to stand, very great care has to be taken in the manufacture and handling of cast-iron pipes of large diameter, a care which must be unfailing from the time of casting until they are jointed in their final position in the ground. They are cast vertically, socket downwards, so that the densest metal may be at the weakest part, and it is advisable to allow an extra head of metal of about 12 in., which is subsequently cut off in a lathe. An inspector representing the purchaser watches every detail of the manufacture, and if, after being measured in every part and weighed, they are found satisfactory they are proved with internal fluid pressure, oil being preferable to water for this purpose. While under pressure, they are rapped from end to end with a hand hammer of about 5 ℔ in weight, in order to discover defects. The wrought-iron rings are then, if required, shrunk on to the sockets, and the pipes, after being made hot in a stove, are dipped vertically in a composition of pitch and oil, in order to preserve them from corrosion. All these operations are performed under cover. A record should be kept of the history of the pipe from the time it is cast to the time it is laid and jointed in the ground, giving the date, number, diameter, length, thickness, and proof pressure, with the name of the pipe-jointer whose work closes the record. Such a history sometimes enables the cause (which is often very obscure) of a burst in a pipe to be ascertained, the position of every pipe being recorded.

Cast-iron pipes rarely go over 48 inches in diameter, and even that size is only practical when the water pressure is low. In the Thirlmere aqueduct, the highest pressure reaches almost 180 pounds per square inch, and the pipes at that pressure are 40 inches in diameter and 1¾ inches thick. These large pipes, typically made in lengths of 12 feet, are usually cast with a socket at one end to receive the spigot end of the next pipe, with the space between them filled with lead. A spring ring is initially placed to prevent the lead from flowing into the interior of the pipe and is removed later; then, the lead is caulked around the outside of the pipe. Sometimes, a wrought-iron ring is shrunk onto the outer edge of the socket, which is prepared to receive it, to strengthen it against the pressing action of the caulking tool. In some cases, the pipes are cast as plain tubes and joined with double collars, which are also filled with lead. This method is preferred to avoid the stresses that result from uneven cooling in the thicker socket material, which is a common spot for pipes to crack under pressure. The technique of turning and boring a slightly tapered section of the spigot and socket to ensure a watertight connection through close metallic contact isn’t suitable for large pipes, although it's very effective for smaller diameters in even terrain. Spherical joints may be used when a main line has to be laid under a large river or estuary, requiring the pipes to be joined before being lowered into the previously dredged trench. This occurred at the Willamette River in Portland, Oregon, where a length of 2000 feet was needed. The pipes are made of cast iron, 28 inches in diameter, 1½ inches thick, and 17 feet long. The spigots were shaped to a spherical surface with a 20-inch radius on the outside, while the inside of the sockets has a radius 3/8 inch larger. After inserting the spigot into the socket, a 3-inch deep ring, shaped to fit the socket, was bolted onto it, and the annular space was filled with lead. These pipes were laid on a sloped cradle, with one end resting on the riverbed and the other on a barge where the jointing took place; as the pipes were joined, the barge was carefully moved forward, trailing the pipes into the trench (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxiii. p. 257). Given the pressure they must withstand, great care is essential in the manufacturing and handling of large diameter cast-iron pipes, and this care must be consistent from casting to the final jointing in the ground. They are cast vertically, socket-down, to ensure the densest metal is at the weakest point, and it’s recommended to allow for an extra 12 inches of metal, which is later trimmed in a lathe. An inspector representing the buyer oversees every aspect of the manufacturing process, and if the pipes are found to meet specifications after being measured and weighed, they are tested with internal fluid pressure, preferably using oil rather than water. While under pressure, they are struck from end to end with a 5-pound hand hammer to identify defects. If necessary, the wrought-iron rings are shrunk onto the sockets, and the pipes, after being heated in a stove, are dipped vertically into a mixture of pitch and oil to protect them from corrosion. All these processes are carried out indoors. A record should be maintained of the pipe’s history from casting to installation, documenting the date, number, diameter, length, thickness, proof pressure, and the name of the pipe-jointer who finishes the record. This history can sometimes help trace the cause—often quite unclear—of a pipe failure, with the position of each pipe being logged.

Cast-iron pipes, even when dipped in the composition referred to, suffer considerably from corrosion caused by the water, especially soft water, flowing through them. One pipe may be found in as good a condition as when made, while the next may be covered with nodules of rust. The effect of the rust is twofold; it reduces the area of the pipe, and also, in consequence of the resistance offered by the rough surface, retards the velocity of the water. These two results, expecially the latter, may seriously diminish the capability of discharge, and they should always be allowed for in deciding the diameter. Automatic scrapers are sometimes used with good results, but it is better to be independent of them as long as possible. In one case the discharge of pipes, 40 in. in diameter, was found after a period of about twelve years to have diminished at the rate of about 1% per year; in another case, where the water was soft and where the pipes were 40 in. in diameter, the discharge was diminished by 7% in ten years. An account of the state of two cast-iron mains supplying Boston with water is given in the Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxv. p. 241. These pipes, which were laid in 1877, are 48 in. in diameter and 1800 ft. long. When they were examined in 1894-1895, it was estimated that the tubercles of rust covered nearly one-third of the interior surfaces, the bottom of the pipe being more encrusted than the sides and top. They had central points of attachment to the iron, at which no doubt the coating was defective, and from them the tubercles spread over the surface of the surrounding coating. In this case they were removed by hand, and the coating of the pipes was not injured in the process. Cast-iron pipes must not be laid in contact with cinders from a blast furnace with which roads are sometimes made, because these corrode the metal. Mr Russell Aitken (Proc. Inst. C.E. vol. cxv. p. 93) found in India that cast-iron pipes buried in the soil rapidly corroded, owing to the presence of nitric acid secreted by bacteria which attacked the iron. The large cast-iron pipes conveying the water from the Tansa reservoir to Bombay are laid above the surface of the ground. Cast-iron pipes of these large diameters have not been in existence sufficiently long to enable their life to be predicted. A main, 40 in. in diameter, conveying soft water, after being in existence fifty years at Manchester, was apparently as good as ever. In 1867 Mr J.B. Francis found that no apparent deterioration had taken place in a cast-iron main, 8 in. diameter, which was laid in the year 1828, a period of thirty-nine years (Trans. Soc. Am. C.E. vol. i. p. 26). These two instances are probably not exceptional.

Cast-iron pipes, even when treated with protective coatings, are highly prone to corrosion from the water flowing through them, particularly soft water. One pipe may remain in great condition, while another could be covered in rust nodules. Rust has two main effects: it reduces the pipe's capacity and, due to the resistance from its rough surface, slows down the water flow. These outcomes, especially the latter, can significantly reduce discharge capacity, and should always be considered when determining the diameter. Automatic scrapers can be effective, but it's preferable to avoid relying on them for as long as possible. In one instance, the discharge from 40-inch diameter pipes decreased by about 1% per year after around twelve years; in another case, where the water was soft and the pipes were also 40 inches in diameter, discharge dropped by 7% in ten years. An overview of the condition of two cast-iron mains supplying water to Boston is found in the Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxv. p. 241. These pipes, installed in 1877, are 48 inches in diameter and 1800 feet long. When examined in 1894-1895, it was estimated that rust tubercles covered nearly one-third of the interior surfaces, with the bottom being more encrusted than the sides and top. They had central attachment points to the iron where the coating was likely compromised, allowing the tubercles to spread across the surrounding surface. In this case, the rust was removed manually without damaging the coating of the pipes. Cast-iron pipes should not be laid in contact with blast furnace cinders, which are sometimes used to construct roads, because they can corrode the metal. Mr. Russell Aitken (Proc. Inst. C.E. vol. cxv. p. 93) discovered in India that cast-iron pipes buried underground corroded quickly due to nitric acid produced by bacteria attacking the iron. The large cast-iron pipes transporting water from the Tansa reservoir to Bombay are installed above ground. These large diameter pipes haven't existed long enough to predict their lifespan. A 40-inch diameter main conveying soft water appeared to be in excellent condition after fifty years in Manchester. In 1867, Mr. J.B. Francis found that a cast-iron main, 8 inches in diameter, laid in 1828 showed no noticeable deterioration after thirty-nine years (Trans. Soc. Am. C.E. vol. i. p. 26). These two cases are likely not out of the ordinary.

Pipes in England are usually laid with not less than 2 ft. 6 in. of cover, in order that the water may not be frozen in a severe winter. Where they are laid in deep cutting they should be partly surrounded with concrete, so that they Methods of laying. may not be fractured by the weight of earth above them. Angles are turned by means of special bend pipes, the curves being made of as large a radius as convenient. In the case of the Thirlmere aqueduct, double socketed castings about 12 in. long (exclusive of the sockets) were used, the sockets being inclined to each other at the required angle. They were made to various angles, and for any particular curve several would be used connected by straight pipes 3 ft. long. As special castings are nearly double the price of the regular pipes, the cost was much diminished by making them as short as possible, while a curve, made up of the slight angles used, offered practically no more impediment to the flow of water in consequence of its polygonal form, than would be the case had special bend pipes been used. In all cases of curves on a line of pipes under internal fluid pressure, there exists a resultant force tending to displace the pipes. When the curve is in a horizontal plane and the pipes are buried in the ground, the side of the pipe trench offers sufficient resistance to this force. Where, however, the pipes are above ground, or when the curve is in a vertical plane, it is necessary to anchor them in position. In the case of the Tansa aqueduct to Bombay, there is a curve of 500 ft. radius near Bassein Creek. At this point the hydrostatic head is about 250 ft., and the engineer, Mr Clerke, mentions that a tendency to an outward movement of the line of pipes was observed. At the siphon under Kurla Creek the curves on the approaches as originally laid down were sharp, the hydrostatic head being there about 210 ft.; here the outward movement was so marked that it was considered advisable to realign the approaches with easier curves (Proc. Inst. C.E. vol. cxv. p. 34). In the case of the Thirlmere aqueduct the greatest hydrostatic pressure, 410 ft., occurs at the bridge over the river Lune, where the pipes are 40 in. in diameter, and in descending from the bridge make reverse angles of 31½°. The displacing force at each of these angles amounts to 54 tons, and as the design includes five lines of pipes, it is obvious that the anchoring arrangements must be very efficient. The steel straps used for anchoring these and all other bends were curved to fit as closely as possible the castings to be anchored. Naturally the metal was not in perfect contact, but when the pipes were charged the disappearance of all the slight inequalities showed that the straps were fulfilling their intended purpose. At every summit on a line of pipes one or more valves must be placed in order to allow the escape of air, and they must also be provided on long level stretches, and at changes of gradient where the depth of the point of change below the hydraulic gradient is less than that at both 247 sides, causing what may be called a virtual summit. It is better to have too many than too few, as accumulations of air may cause an enormous diminution in the quantity of water delivered. In all depressions discharge valves should be placed for emptying the pipes when desired, and for letting off the sediment which accumulates at such points. Automatic valves are frequently placed at suitable distances for cutting off the supply in case of a burst. At the inlet mouth of the pipe they may depend for their action on the sudden lowering of the water (due to a burst in the pipe) in the chamber from which they draw their supply, causing a float to sink and set the closing arrangement in motion. Those on the line of main are started by the increased velocity in the water, caused by the burst on the pipe at a lower level. The water, when thus accelerated, is able to move a disk hung in the pipe at the end of a lever and weighted so as to resist the normal velocity; this lever releases a catch, and a door is then gradually revolved by weights until it entirely closes the pipe. Reflux valves on the ascending leg of a siphon prevent water from flowing back in case of a burst below them; they have doors hung on hinges, opening only in the normal direction of flow. Due allowance must be made, in the amount of head allotted to a pipe, for any head which may be absorbed by such mechanical arrangements as those described where they offer opposition to the flow of the water. These large mains require most careful and gradual filling with water, and constant attention must be given to the air-valves to see that the gutta-percha balls do not wedge themselves in the openings. A large mass of water, having a considerable velocity, may cause a great many bursts by water-ramming, due to the admission of the water at too great a speed. In places where iron is absent and timber plentiful, as in some parts of America, pipes, even of large diameter and in the most important cases, are sometimes made of wooden staves hooped with iron. A description of two of these will be found below.

Pipes in England are typically installed with at least 2 ft. 6 in. of cover to prevent the water from freezing during harsh winters. When they are set in deep-cut areas, they should be partially surrounded by concrete to avoid being crushed by the weight of the soil above. Laying methods. Angles are formed using special bend pipes, with the curves having as large a radius as is practical. For the Thirlmere aqueduct, double-socketed castings about 12 in. long (not including the sockets) were utilized, with the sockets angled to each other as needed. Various angles were made, and for any specific curve, several would connect through straight pipes 3 ft. long. Since special castings are nearly double the cost of regular pipes, making them as short as possible greatly reduced costs, while the resulting curve, made of slight angles, posed practically no more obstruction to water flow due to its polygonal shape than if special bend pipes had been used. In all cases of curves in a pipeline under internal fluid pressure, there’s a resulting force trying to shift the pipes. When the curve is horizontal and the pipes are underground, the sides of the trench provide enough resistance against this force. However, if the pipes are above ground or the curve is vertical, anchoring them in place is essential. For the Tansa aqueduct to Bombay, there's a curve with a 500 ft. radius near Bassein Creek. At this location, the hydrostatic head is about 250 ft., and engineer Mr. Clerke noted an observed tendency for the pipes to move outward. At the siphon under Kurla Creek, the initially laid sharp curves had a hydrostatic head of about 210 ft., and there was so much outward movement that it was deemed necessary to realign the approaches with gentler curves (Proc. Inst. C.E. vol. cxv. p. 34). Within the Thirlmere aqueduct, the highest hydrostatic pressure of 410 ft. occurs at the bridge over the river Lune, where the pipes are 40 in. in diameter and create reverse angles of 31½° as they descend from the bridge. The displacement force at each of these angles amounts to 54 tons, and since the design includes five lines of pipes, it’s clear that the anchoring systems need to be very effective. The steel straps used for anchoring these and all other bends were shaped to closely fit the castings being anchored. Although the metal wasn’t in perfect contact, when the pipes were in use, the disappearance of all minor imperfections indicated that the straps were doing their job. At every high point in a pipeline, one or more valves must be installed to allow air to escape, and they should also be included on long flat stretches and at points where the gradient changes, particularly where the depth at the change is less than that on both sides, creating what’s known as a virtual summit. It’s better to have too many valves than too few, as air buildup can significantly reduce the amount of water delivered. In all low areas, discharge valves should be installed for draining the pipes when necessary and for releasing sediment that gathers at those points. Automatic valves are often placed at appropriate distances to shut off the supply in the event of a rupture. At the pipe's inlet, these valves might operate based on the sudden drop in water levels (due to a pipe break) in the chamber from which they draw supply, causing a float to sink and trigger the closing mechanism. Those along the main line activate due to the increased water velocity resulting from a break in the lower pipe. This accelerated water can move a disk suspended in the pipe at the end of a lever that’s weighted to resist normal flow velocity; this lever releases a catch, and a door is then gradually rotated by weights until it completely seals off the pipe. Reflux valves on the upward leg of a siphon prevent water from flowing back in case of a rupture below them; they have doors on hinges that only open in the normal direction of flow. It’s essential to account for any pressure loss caused by mechanical systems like those described, which oppose water flow, when determining the amount of head allocated to a pipe. These large mains require careful and gradual filling with water, and constant monitoring is necessary to ensure that the gutta-percha balls in the air valves don’t get stuck in the openings. A large volume of water with significant velocity can cause numerous bursts due to water hammer when water enters too quickly. In areas where iron is scarce and timber is abundant, like some regions of America, pipes, even those of substantial diameter and in critical applications, are sometimes constructed from wooden staves hooped with iron. A description of two such examples can be found below.

The Thirlmere Aqueduct is capable of conveying 50,000,000 gallons a day from Thirlmere, in the English lake district, to Manchester. The total length of 96 m. is made up of 14 m. of tunnels, 37 m. of cut-and-cover, and 45 m. of cast-iron Thirlmere. pipes, five rows of the latter being required. The tunnels where lined, and the cut-and-cover, are formed of concrete, and are 7 ft. in height and width, the usual thickness of the concrete being 15 in. The inclination is 20 in. per mile. The floor is flat from side to side, and the side-walls are 5 ft. high to the springing of the arch, which has a rise of 2 ft. The water from the lake is received in a circular well 65 ft. deep and 40 ft. in diameter, at the bottom of which there is a ring of wire-gauze strainers. Wherever the concrete aqueduct is intersected by valleys, cast-iron pipes are laid; in the first instance only two of the five rows 40 in. in diameter were laid, the city not requiring its supply to be augmented by more than 20,000,000 gallons a day, but in 1907 it was decided to lay a third line. All the elaborate arrangements described above for stopping the water in case of a burst have been employed, and have perfectly fulfilled their duties in the few cases in which they have been called into action. The water is received in a service reservoir at Prestwich, near Manchester, from which it is supplied to the city. The supply from this source was begun in 1894. The total cost of the complete scheme may be taken at about £5,000,000, of which rather under £3,000,000 had been spent up to the date of the opening, at which time only one line of pipes had been laid.

The Thirlmere Aqueduct can transport 50 million gallons of water per day from Thirlmere, located in the English Lake District, to Manchester. It has a total length of 96 miles, which includes 14 miles of tunnels, 37 miles of cut-and-cover, and 45 miles of cast-iron Thirlmere. pipes, requiring five rows of the latter. The tunnels are lined, and the cut-and-cover sections are made of concrete, measuring 7 feet in both height and width, with a standard concrete thickness of 15 inches. The incline is 20 inches per mile. The floor is flat from side to side, and the side walls are 5 feet high up to the springing of the arch, which rises 2 feet. Water from the lake enters a circular well that is 65 feet deep and 40 feet in diameter, featuring a ring of wire-gauze strainers at the bottom. Where the concrete aqueduct crosses valleys, cast-iron pipes are installed; initially, only two of the five rows with a diameter of 40 inches were laid, as the city only needed to increase its supply by 20 million gallons per day. However, in 1907, it was decided to add a third line. All the detailed measures described for stopping the water in case of a burst have been used and have worked perfectly in the few instances when they were needed. The water is collected in a service reservoir at Prestwich, near Manchester, from which it is distributed to the city. Supply from this source started in 1894. The total cost of the entire project is estimated at around £5 million, with just under £3 million spent by the time it opened, when only one line of pipes had been installed.

The Vyrnwy Aqueduct was sanctioned by parliament in 1880 for the supply of Liverpool from North Wales, the quantity of water obtainable being at least 40,000,000 gallons a day. A tower built in the artificial lake from which the supply is Vyrnwy. derived, contains the inlet and arrangements for straining the water. The aqueduct is 68 m. in length, and for nearly the whole distance will consist of three lines of cast-iron pipes, two of which, varying in diameter from 42 in. to 39 in., are now in use. As the total fall between Vyrnwy and the termination at Prescot reservoirs is about 550 ft., arrangements had to be made to ensure that no part of the aqueduct be subjected to a greater pressure than is required for the actual discharge. Balancing reservoirs have therefore been constructed at five points on the line, advantage being taken of high ground where available, so that the total pressure is broken up into sections. At one of these points, where the ground level is 110 ft. below the hydraulic gradient, a circular tower is built, making a most imposing architectural feature in the landscape. At the crossing of the river Weaver, 100 ft. wide and 15 ft. deep, the three pipes, here made of steel, were connected together laterally, floated into position, and sunk into a dredged trench prepared to receive them. Under the river Mersey the pipes are carried in a tunnel, from which, during construction, the water was excluded by compressed air.

The Vyrnwy Aqueduct was approved by parliament in 1880 to supply Liverpool with water from North Wales, providing at least 40,000,000 gallons per day. A tower built in the artificial lake, which is the source of this supply, holds the inlet and mechanisms for filtering the water. The aqueduct spans 68 m in length, primarily consisting of three lines of cast-iron pipes, two of which are currently in use, with diameters ranging from 42 in. to 39 in. Since the total drop from Vyrnwy to the end at Prescot reservoirs is about 550 ft., measures were needed to prevent any part of the aqueduct from experiencing more pressure than necessary for the actual flow. Balancing reservoirs have been built at five locations along the route, utilizing elevated ground when possible to break the total pressure into sections. At one of these locations, where the ground is 110 ft. below the hydraulic gradient, a circular tower has been constructed, creating a striking architectural feature in the landscape. At the river Weaver crossing, which is 100 ft. wide and 15 ft. deep, the three pipes, made of steel, were linked laterally, floated into place, and sunk into a dredged trench prepared for them. Beneath the river Mersey, the pipes run through a tunnel, which was kept dry during construction using compressed air.

Denver Aqueduct.—The supply to Denver City, initiated by the Citizens Water Company in 1889, is derived from the Platte river, rising in the Rocky Mountains. The first aqueduct constructed is rather over 20 m. in length, of which a Denver. length of 16½ m. is made of wooden stave pipe, 30 in. in diameter. The maximum pressure is that due to 185 ft. of water; the average cost of the wooden pipe was $1.36½ per foot, and the capability of discharge 8,400,000 gallons a day. Within a year of the completion of the first conduit, it became evident that another of still greater capacity was required. This was completed in April 1893; it is 34 in. in diameter and will deliver 16,000,000 gallons a day. By increasing the head upon the first pipe, the combined discharge is 30,000,000 gallons a day. An incident in obtaining a temporary supply, without waiting for the completion of the second pipe, was the construction of two wooden pipes, 13 in. in diameter, crossing a stream with a span of 104 ft., and having no support other than that derived from their arched form. One end of the arch is 24½ ft. above the other end, and, when filled with water, the deflection with eight men on it was only 78 of an inch. A somewhat similar arch, 60 ft. span, occurs on the 34-in. pipe where it crosses a canal. Schuyler points out (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxi. p. 148) that the fact that the entire water supply of a city of 150,000 inhabitants is conveyed in wooden mains, is so radical a departure from all precedents, that it is deserving of more than a passing notice. He says that it is manifestly and unreservedly successful, and has achieved an enormous saving in cost. The sum saved by the use of wooden, in preference to cast-iron pipes, is estimated at $1,100,000. It is perhaps necessary to state that the pipe is buried in the ground in the same way as metal pipes. The edges of the staves are dressed to the radius with a minute tongue 116 in. high on one edge of each stave, but with no corresponding groove in the next stave; its object is to ensure a close joint when the bands are tightened up. Leaks seldom or never occur along the longitudinal seams, but the end shrinkage caused troublesome joint leaks. The shrinkage in California redwood, which had seasoned 60 to 90 days before milling, was frequently as much as 3 in. in the 20 staves that formed the 34-in. pipe, and the space so formed had to be filled by a special closing stave. Metallic tongues, ¾ in. deep, are inserted at the ends of abutting staves, in a straight saw cut. The bands, which are of mild steel, have a head at one end and a nut and washer at the other; the ends are brought together on a wrought-iron shoe, against which the nut and washer set. The staves forming the lower half of the pipe are placed on an outside, and the top staves on an inside, mould. While the bands are being adjusted the pipe is rounded out to bring the staves out full, and the staves are carefully driven home on to the abutting staves. The spacing of the bands depends on circumstances, but is about 150 bands per 100 ft. With low heads the limit of spacing was fixed at 17 in. The outer surface of the pipe, when charged, shows moisture oozing slightly over the entire surface. This condition Schuyler considers an ideal one for perfect preservation, and the staves were kept as thin as possible to ensure its occurrence. Samples taken from pipes in use from three to nine years are quite sound, and it is concluded that the wood will last as long as cast-iron if the pipe is kept constantly charged. The bands are the only perishable portion, and their life is taken at from fifteen to twenty years. Other portions of the second conduit for a length of nearly 3 m. were formed of concrete piping, 38 in. diameter, formed on a mould in the trench, the thickness being 2½ to 3 in. So successful an instance of the use of wooden piping on a large scale is sure to lead to a large development of this type of aqueduct in districts where timber is plentiful and iron absent.

Denver Aqueduct.—The water supply for Denver City, started by the Citizens Water Company in 1889, comes from the Platte River, which is fed by the Rocky Mountains. The first aqueduct built is just over 20 m long, with 16½ m of that made from wooden stave pipes, 30 inches in diameter. The maximum pressure comes from 185 ft of water; the average cost of the wooden pipe was $1.36½ per foot, and it can discharge 8,400,000 gallons a day. Within a year of finishing the first conduit, it became clear that a larger one was needed. This new aqueduct was completed in April 1893; it has a diameter of 34 inches and can deliver 16,000,000 gallons a day. By increasing the pressure on the first pipe, the total discharge reaches 30,000,000 gallons a day. To temporarily supply water without waiting for the second pipe to be completed, they constructed two wooden pipes, 13 inches in diameter, crossing a stream with a span of 104 ft, needing no support except their arched shape. One end of the arch is 24½ ft higher than the other end, and when filled with water, the deflection with eight men on it was just 78 of an inch. A similar arch, with a span of 60 ft, appears on the 34-inch pipe where it crosses a canal. Schuyler points out (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxi. p. 148) that having the entire water supply of a city of 150,000 residents carried in wooden pipes is such a significant shift from previous methods that it deserves more attention than it usually gets. He states that it is clearly successful and has resulted in huge cost savings. The savings from using wooden instead of cast-iron pipes is estimated at $1,100,000. It's important to note that the pipe is buried underground just like metal pipes. The edges of the staves are shaped to a radius with a small tongue 116 in. high on one edge of each stave, but with no matching groove in the next stave; this design helps ensure a tight joint when the bands are tightened. Leaks along the longitudinal seams are rare, but end shrinkage can lead to annoying joint leaks. Shrinkage in California redwood, which had dried for 60 to 90 days before milling, was often as much as 3 inches among the 20 staves that made up the 34-inch pipe, requiring a special closing stave to fill the gap. Metallic tongues, ¾ in. deep, are added at the ends of adjacent staves, in a straight saw cut. The bands, made of mild steel, have a head at one end and a nut and washer at the other; the ends are pulled together with a wrought-iron shoe against which the nut and washer press. The staves for the lower half of the pipe are set on an outside mold, while the top staves are placed on an inside mold. While adjusting the bands, the pipe is rounded out to fit the staves snugly, which are then carefully driven together. The spacing of the bands can vary, but is approximately 150 bands per 100 ft. With low pressures, the maximum spacing was set at 17 inches. The outer surface of the pipe, when filled with water, shows some moisture seeping out over the surface. Schuyler considers this condition ideal for proper preservation, so the staves were kept as thin as possible to promote it. Samples taken from pipes in use for three to nine years remain in good condition, leading to the conclusion that the wood can last as long as cast-iron if the pipe is consistently filled with water. The bands are the only parts likely to wear out, with a lifespan estimated at fifteen to twenty years. Other sections of the second conduit, nearly 3 m long, were made from concrete pipes, 38 inches in diameter, formed in a mold in the trench, with a thickness of 2½ to 3 inches. This successful example of using wooden piping on a large scale is likely to encourage more development of this type of aqueduct in areas where timber is abundant and iron is scarce.

Pioneer Aqueduct, Utah.—The construction of the Pioneer Aqueduct, Utah, was begun in 1896 by the Pioneer Electric Power Company, near the city of Ogden, 35 m. north of Salt Lake City. The storage reservoir, from which it draws Pioneer, Utah. its water, will coyer an area of 2000 acres, and contain about 15,000 million gallons of water. The aqueduct is a pipe 6 ft. in diameter, and of a total length of 6 m.; for a distance of rather more than 5 m. it is formed of wooden staves, the remainder, where the head exceeds 117 ft., being of steel. It is laid in a trench and covered to a depth of 3 ft. The greatest pressure on the steel pipe is 200 ℔ per sq. in., and the thickness varies from 38 to 1116 in. The pipe was constructed according to the usual practice of marine boiler-work for high pressures, and each section, about 9 ft. long, was dipped in asphalt for an hour. These sections were supported on timber blocking, placed from 5 to 9 ft. apart, and consisting of three to six pieces of 6 × 6 in. timbers laid one on the top of the other; they were then riveted together in the ordinary way. The wooden stave-pipe is of the type successfully used in the Western States for many years, but its diameter is believed to be unequalled for any but short lengths. There were thirty-two staves in the circle, 2 in. in thickness, and about 20 ft. long, hooped with round steel rods 58 in. in diameter, each hoop being in two pieces. The pipe is supported at intervals of 8 ft. by sills 6 × 8 in. and 8 ft. long. The flow through it is 250 cubic ft. per second.

Pioneer Aqueduct, Utah.—Construction of the Pioneer Aqueduct in Utah started in 1896 by the Pioneer Electric Power Company, near Ogden, 35 miles north of Salt Lake City. The storage reservoir that supplies its water will cover an area of 2,000 acres and hold about 15 billion gallons of water. The aqueduct is a 6-foot diameter pipe, with a total length of 6 miles; for a little over 5 miles, it consists of wooden staves, while the rest, where the head exceeds 117 feet, is made of steel. It is buried in a trench and covered to a depth of 3 feet. The maximum pressure on the steel pipe is 200 pounds per square inch, and the thickness varies from 38 to 1116 inches. The pipe was built using standard practices from marine boiler construction for high pressures, with each section, about 9 feet long, dipped in asphalt for an hour. These sections were supported with timber blocks placed 5 to 9 feet apart, made up of three to six pieces of 6 × 6-inch timber stacked on top of each other and then riveted together in the usual manner. The wooden stave pipe has been successfully used in the Western States for many years, but this diameter is believed to be unmatched for anything but short lengths. There were thirty-two staves forming the circle, each 2 inches thick and about 20 feet long, reinforced with round steel rods 58 inches in diameter, with each hoop made in two pieces. The pipe is supported every 8 feet by sills that are 6 × 8 inches and 8 feet long. The flow through it is 250 cubic feet per second.

The Santa Ana Canal was constructed for irrigation purposes in California, and is designed to carry 240 cub. ft. of water per second (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxiii. p. 99). The cross section of the flumes shows an elliptical bottom and Santa Ana. straight sides consisting of wooden staves held together by 248 iron and steel ribs. The width and depth are each 5 ft. 6 in., the intended depth of water being 5 ft. The staves are held by T-iron supports resting on wooden sills spaced 8 ft. apart, and are compressed together by a framework. They were caulked with oakum, on the top of which, to a third of the total depth, hot asphalt was run. The use of nails was altogether avoided except in parts of the framework, it being noticed that decay usually starts at nail-holes. It was found possible to make the flume absolutely watertight, and in case of repair being necessary at any part the framework is easily taken to pieces so that new staves can be inserted. The water in the flume has a velocity of 9.6 ft. per second. The Warm Springs, Deep, and Morton cañons on the line are crossed by wooden stave pipes 52 in. in diameter, bound with round steel rods, and laid above the surface of the ground. The work is planned for two rows of pipes, each capable of carrying 123 cub. ft. per second; of these one so far has been laid. The lengths of the pipes at each of the three cañons are 551, 964 and 756 ft. respectively, and the maximum head at any place is 160 ft. The pipes are not painted, and it has been suggested that they would suffer in their exposed position in case of a bush fire, a contingency to which, of course, flumes are also liable.

The Santa Ana Canal was built for irrigation in California and is designed to carry 240 cubic feet of water per second (Trans. Am. Soc. C.E. vol. xxxiii. p. 99). The cross-section of the flumes shows an elliptical bottom and straight sides made of wooden staves held together by iron and steel ribs. Each is 5 ft. 6 in. wide and deep, with an intended water depth of 5 ft. The staves are supported by T-iron rests on wooden sills spaced 8 ft. apart and are compressed together by a framework. They were sealed with oakum, on top of which hot asphalt was applied to a third of the total depth. Nails were avoided except in parts of the framework since decay usually begins at nail holes. It was possible to make the flume completely watertight, and in the event that repairs are needed, the framework can be easily disassembled to insert new staves. The water in the flume travels at a speed of 9.6 ft. per second. The Warm Springs, Deep, and Morton canyons along the route are crossed by wooden stave pipes that are 52 inches in diameter, reinforced with round steel rods, and set above ground level. The plan involves two rows of pipes, each capable of carrying 123 cubic feet per second; so far, only one row has been installed. The lengths of the pipes at the three canyons are 551, 964, and 756 ft. respectively, with the maximum head at any point being 160 ft. The pipes are not painted, and it has been suggested that they could be damaged in their exposed position during a bushfire, which is also a risk for the flumes.

Aqueducts of New York.—There are three aqueducts in New York—the Old Croton Aqueduct (1837-1843), the Bronx River Conduit (1880-1885), and the New Croton Aqueduct (1884-1893), discharging respectively 95, 28, and 302 million U.S. New York. gallons a day; their combined delivery is therefore 425 million gallons a day. The Old Croton Aqueduct is about 41 m. in length, and was constructed as a masonry conduit, except at the Harlem and Manhattan valleys, where two lines of 36-in. pipe were used. The inclination of the former is at the rate of about 13 in. per mile. The area of the cross-section is 53.34 sq. ft., the height is 8½ ft., and the greatest width 7 ft. 5 in.; the roof is semicircular, the floor segmental, and the sides have a batter on the face of ½ in. per foot. The sides and invert are of concrete, faced with 4 in. of brickwork, the roof being entirely of brickwork. There is a bridge over the Harlem river 1450 ft. in length, consisting of fifteen semicircular arches; its soffit is 100 ft. above high water, and its cost was $963,427. The construction of the New Croton Aqueduct was begun in 1885, and the works were sufficiently advanced by the 15th of July 1890 to allow the supply to be begun. The lengths of the various parts of the aqueduct are as follows:—

Aqueducts of New York.—There are three aqueducts in New York: the Old Croton Aqueduct (1837-1843), the Bronx River Conduit (1880-1885), and the New Croton Aqueduct (1884-1893), which deliver 95, 28, and 302 million U.S. gallons a day, respectively. Their total output is therefore 425 million gallons daily. The Old Croton Aqueduct is about 41 miles long and was built as a masonry conduit, except at the Harlem and Manhattan valleys, where two lines of 36-inch pipes were used. Its slope is about 13 inches per mile. The cross-section area is 53.34 square feet, the height is 8½ feet, and the maximum width is 7 feet 5 inches; the roof is semicircular, the floor is segmental, and the sides are sloped at ½ inch per foot. The sides and bottom are made of concrete, covered with 4 inches of brick, while the roof is entirely made of brick. There is a bridge over the Harlem River that is 1,450 feet long, consisting of fifteen semicircular arches; its underside is 100 feet above high water, and it cost $963,427 to build. Construction of the New Croton Aqueduct started in 1885, and the project was advanced enough by July 15, 1890, to begin supplying water. The lengths of the various parts of the aqueduct are as follows:—

  Miles.
Tunnel 29.75
Cut-and-cover 1.12
Cast-iron pipes, 48 in. diameter, 8 rows. 2.38
  ——
Croton Inlet to Central Park. 33.25
  ====

The length of tunnel under pressure (circular form) is 7.17 m., and that not under pressure (horse-shoe form) 23.70 m. The maximum pressure in the former is 55 ℔ per sq. in. The width and height of the horse-shoe form are each 13 ft. 7 in., and the diameter of the circular form (with the exception of two short lengths) is 12 ft. 3 in. The reason for constructing the aqueduct in tunnel for so long a distance was the enhanced value of the low-lying ground near the old aqueduct. The tunnel deviates from a straight line only for the purpose of intersecting a few transverse valleys at which it could be emptied. For 25 m. the gradient is 0.7 foot per mile; the tunnel is then depressed below the hydraulic gradient, the maximum depth being at the Harlem river, where it is 300 ft. below high water. The depth of the tunnel varies from 50 to 500 ft. from the surface of the ground. Forty-two shafts were sunk to facilitate driving, and in four cases where the surface of the ground is below the hydraulic gradient these are closed by watertight covers. The whole of the tunnel is lined with brickwork from 1 to 2 ft. in thickness, the voids behind the lining being filled with rubble-in-mortar. The entry to the old and new aqueducts is controlled by a gatehouse of elaborate and massive design, and the pipes which take up the supply at the end of the tunnel are also commanded by a gate-house. The aqueduct, where it passes under the Harlem river, is worthy of special notice. As it approaches the river it has a considerable fall, and eventually ends in a vertical shaft 12 ft. 3 in. in diameter (where the water has a fall of 174 ft.), from the bottom of which, at a depth of 300 ft. below high-water level, the tunnel under the river starts. The latter is circular in form, the diameter being 10 ft. 6 in., and the length is 1300 ft.; it terminates at the bottom of another vertical shaft also 12 ft. 3 in. in diameter. The depth of this shaft, measured from the floor of the lower tunnel to that of the upper tunnel leading away from it, is 321 ft.; it is continued up to the surface of the ground, though closed by double watertight covers a little above the level of the upper tunnel. Adjoining this shaft is another shaft of equal diameter, by means of which the water can be pumped out, and there is also a communication with the river above high-water level, so that the higher parts can be emptied by gravitation. The cost of the Old Croton Aqueduct was $11,500,000; that of the new aqueduct is not far short of $20,000,000.

The length of the pressure tunnel (circular shape) is 7.17 m, and the non-pressure tunnel (horse-shoe shape) is 23.70 m. The maximum pressure in the pressure tunnel is 55 lb per sq. in. The width and height of the horse-shoe tunnel are each 13 ft 7 in, and the diameter of the circular tunnel (except for two short sections) is 12 ft 3 in. The reason for building the aqueduct in a tunnel for such a long distance was the increased value of the low-lying land near the old aqueduct. The tunnel only deviates from a straight line to intersect a few cross valleys where it could be drained. For 25 m, the gradient is 0.7 foot per mile; the tunnel then dips below the hydraulic gradient, with the maximum depth being at the Harlem River, where it is 300 ft below high water. The tunnel depth ranges from 50 to 500 ft below the ground. Forty-two shafts were drilled to aid construction, and in four cases where the ground surface is below the hydraulic gradient, these shafts are capped with watertight covers. The entire tunnel is lined with brickwork that is 1 to 2 ft thick, with the spaces behind the lining filled with rubble-in-mortar. The entry points to the old and new aqueducts are managed by a large and elaborate gatehouse, and the pipes that collect the water at the end of the tunnel are also controlled by a gatehouse. The aqueduct, where it runs under the Harlem River, is particularly noteworthy. As it approaches the river, there’s a significant drop, culminating in a vertical shaft that is 12 ft 3 in in diameter (where the water drops 174 ft), from the bottom of which, 300 ft below high-water level, the tunnel under the river begins. This segment is circular, with a diameter of 10 ft 6 in, extending 1300 ft; it ends at the bottom of another vertical shaft that is also 12 ft 3 in in diameter. The depth of this shaft, from the lower tunnel floor to the upper tunnel that leads away from it, is 321 ft; it continues up to the surface but is capped with double watertight covers just above the upper tunnel level. Next to this shaft is another shaft of the same diameter, which can be used to pump out the water, and there’s also a connection to the river above high-water level, allowing the higher sections to be drained by gravity. The cost of the Old Croton Aqueduct was $11,500,000, while the new aqueduct is nearly $20,000,000.

The Nadrai Aqueduct Bridge, in India, opened at the end of 1889, is the largest structure of its kind in existence. It was built to carry the water of the Lower Ganges canal over the Kali Naddi, in connexion with the irrigation canals of the north-west provinces. Nadrai. In the year 1888-1889 this canal had 564 m. of main line, with 2050 m. of minor distributaries, and irrigated 519,022 acres of crops. The new bridge replaces one of much smaller size (five spans of 35 ft.), which was completely destroyed by a high flood in July 1885. It gives the river a waterway of 21,000 sq. ft., and the canal a waterway of 1040 sq. ft., the latter representing a discharge of 4100 cub. ft. per second. Its length is 1310 ft., and it is carried on fifteen arches having a span of 60 ft. The width between the faces of the arches is 149 ft. The foundations below the river-bed have a depth of 52 ft., and the total height of the structure is 88 ft. It cost 44½ lakhs of rupees, and occupied four years in building. The foundations consist of 268 circular brick cylinders, and the fifteen spans are arranged in three groups, divided by abutment piers; the latter are founded on a double row of 12-ft. cylinders, and the intermediate piers on a single row of 20-ft. cylinders, all the cylinders being hearted with hydraulic lime concrete filled in with skips. This aqueduct-bridge has a very fine appearance, owing to its massive proportions and design.

The Nadrai Aqueduct Bridge in India, which opened at the end of 1889, is the largest structure of its kind still in existence. It was built to carry water from the Lower Ganges canal over the Kali Naddi, connecting with the irrigation canals of the northwest provinces. Nadrai. In 1888-1889, this canal spanned 564 meters of main line, with 2050 meters of smaller distributaries, irrigating 519,022 acres of crops. The new bridge replaces a much smaller one (five spans of 35 feet) that was completely destroyed by a major flood in July 1885. It provides a waterway of 21,000 square feet for the river and a waterway of 1040 square feet for the canal, which represents a discharge of 4100 cubic feet per second. The bridge is 1310 feet long and supported by fifteen arches with a span of 60 feet each. The width between the faces of the arches is 149 feet. The foundations below the riverbed are 52 feet deep, and the total height of the structure is 88 feet. It cost 44½ lakhs of rupees and took four years to build. The foundations consist of 268 circular brick cylinders, and the fifteen spans are organized in three groups separated by abutment piers; the abutments rest on a double row of 12-foot cylinders, while the intermediate piers are on a single row of 20-foot cylinders, all filled with hydraulic lime concrete. This aqueduct-bridge has a striking appearance due to its massive proportions and design.

(E. P. H.*)

Authorities.—For ancient aqueducts in general: Curt Merckel, Die Ingenieurtechnik im Alterthum (Berlin, 1899); ch. vi. contains a very full account from the earliest Assyrian aqueducts onwards, with illustrations, measurements and an excellent bibliography. For Greek aqueducts see E. Curtius, “Über städtische Wasserbauten der Hellenen,” in Archaeologische Zeitung (1847); G. Weber (as above); papers in Athen. Mittheil. (Samos), 1877, (Enneacrunus) 1892, 1893, 1894, 1905, and articles on Athens, Pergamum, &c. For Roman aqueducts: R. Lanciani, “I Commentari di Frontino intorno le acque e gli acquedotti,” in Memorie dei Lincei, serie iii. vol. iv. (Rome, 1880), 215 sqq., and separately; C. Herschel, The Two Books on the Water Supply of the City of Rome of Sextus Julius Frontinus (Boston, 1899); T. Ashby in Classical Review (1902), 336, and articles in The Builder; cf. also the maps to T. Ashby’s “Classical Topography of the Roman Campagna,” in Papers of the British School at Rome, i., in., iv. (in progress).

Authorities.—For ancient aqueducts in general: Curt Merckel, Die Ingenieurtechnik im Alterthum (Berlin, 1899); ch. vi. offers a comprehensive overview from the earliest Assyrian aqueducts onward, complete with illustrations, measurements, and a great bibliography. For Greek aqueducts, see E. Curtius, “Über städtische Wasserbauten der Hellenen,” in Archaeologische Zeitung (1847); G. Weber (as above); articles in Athen. Mittheil. (Samos), 1877, (Enneacrunus) 1892, 1893, 1894, 1905, and entries on Athens, Pergamum, etc. For Roman aqueducts: R. Lanciani, “I Commentari di Frontino intorno le acque e gli acquedotti,” in Memorie dei Lincei, series iii. vol. iv. (Rome, 1880), 215 sqq., and separately; C. Herschel, The Two Books on the Water Supply of the City of Rome of Sextus Julius Frontinus (Boston, 1899); T. Ashby in Classical Review (1902), 336, and articles in The Builder; cf. also the maps to T. Ashby’s “Classical Topography of the Roman Campagna,” in Papers of the British School at Rome, i., in., iv. (in progress).

For modern aqueducts, see Rickman’s Life of Telford (1838); Schramke’s New York Croton Aqueduct; Second Annual Report of the Department of Public Works of the City of New York in 1872; Report of the Aqueduct Commissioners (1887-1895), and The Water Supply of the City of New York (1896), by Wegmann; Mémoires sur les eaux de Paris, presentés par le Préfet de la Seine au Conseil Municipal (1854 and 1858); Recherches statistiques sur les sources du bassin de la Seine, par M. Belgrand, Ingénieur en chef des ponts et chaussées (1854); “Descriptions of Mechanical Arrangements of the Manchester Waterworks,” by John Frederic Bateman, F.R.S., Engineer-in-chief, from the Minutes of Proceedings of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers (1866); The Glasgow Waterworks, by James M. Gale, Member Inst. C.E. (1863 and 1864); The Report of the Royal Commission on Water Supply, and the Minutes of Evidence (1867 and 1868). For accounts of other aqueducts, see the Transactions of the Societies of Engineers in the different countries, and the Engineering Journals.

For modern aqueducts, see Rickman’s Life of Telford (1838); Schramke’s New York Croton Aqueduct; Second Annual Report of the Department of Public Works of the City of New York in 1872; Report of the Aqueduct Commissioners (1887-1895), and The Water Supply of the City of New York (1896) by Wegmann; Mémoires sur les eaux de Paris, presented by the Prefect of the Seine to the Municipal Council (1854 and 1858); Recherches statistiques sur les sources du bassin de la Seine, by M. Belgrand, Chief Engineer of Bridges and Roads (1854); “Descriptions of Mechanical Arrangements of the Manchester Waterworks,” by John Frederic Bateman, F.R.S., Chief Engineer, from the Minutes of Proceedings of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers (1866); The Glasgow Waterworks, by James M. Gale, Member Inst. C.E. (1863 and 1864); The Report of the Royal Commission on Water Supply, and the Minutes of Evidence (1867 and 1868). For accounts of other aqueducts, see the Transactions of the Societies of Engineers in different countries and the Engineering Journals.


1 There have been found at Caerwent, in Monmouthshire, clear traces of wooden pipes (internal diameter about 2 in.) which must have carried drinking-water, and almost certainly a pressure supply from the surrounding hills. Some patches of lead also have been found obviously nailed on to the pipes at points where they had burst (see Archaeologia, 1908).

1 Archaeologists have discovered at Caerwent in Monmouthshire clear evidence of wooden pipes (about 2 inches in internal diameter) that likely transported drinking water, and almost certainly provided pressure from the nearby hills. Some pieces of lead have also been found, clearly nailed to the pipes at points where they had burst (see Archaeologia, 1908).

2 This distance will not agree with the length given on some of the cippi (Lanciani, Bull. Com., 1899, 38).

2 This distance doesn’t match the length noted on some of the cippi (Lanciani, Bull. Com., 1899, 38).

3 The course of the Aqua Claudia was considerably shortened by the cutting of a tunnel 3 m. long under the Monte Affliano in the time of Domitian (T. Ashby, in Papers of the British School at Rome, iii, 133).

3 The Aqua Claudia's route was significantly shortened by the creation of a 3-meter-long tunnel beneath Monte Affliano during Domitian's reign (T. Ashby, in Papers of the British School at Rome, iii, 133).

4 About 3 m. south-east of this point the presence of large quantities of deposit and a sudden fall in the level of the channels seems to indicate the existence of settling tanks, of which no actual traces can be seen.

4 About 3 meters southeast of this point, the presence of large amounts of sediment and a sudden drop in the level of the channels suggests the existence of settling tanks, although no actual evidence of them can be seen.


AQUILA Άκύλας, (1) a Jew from Rome, who with his wife Prisca or Priscilla had settled in Corinth, where Paul stayed with them (Acts xviii. 2,3). They became Christians and fellow-workers with Paul, to whom they seem to have shown their devotion in some special way (Rom. xvi. 3, 4). (2) A native of Pontus, celebrated for a very literal and accurate translation of the Old Testament into Greek. Epiphanius (De Pond. et Mens. c. 15) preserves a tradition that he was a kinsman of the emperor Hadrian, who employed him in rebuilding Jerusalem (Aelia Capitolina, q.v.), and that he was converted to Christianity, but, on being reproved for practising pagan astrology, apostatized to Judaism. He is said also to have been a disciple of Rabbi ’Aqiba (d. A.D. 132), and seems to be referred to in Jewish writings as עקילס. Aquila’s version is said to have been used in place of the Septuagint in the synagogues. The Christians generally disliked it, alleging without due grounds that it rendered the Messianic passages incorrectly, but Jerome and Origen speak in its praise. Origen incorporated it in his Hexapla.

Aquila Aquila, (1) a Jew from Rome, who along with his wife Prisca or Priscilla settled in Corinth, where Paul stayed with them (Acts xviii. 2,3). They became Christians and worked alongside Paul, showing their devotion to him in a special way (Rom. xvi. 3, 4). (2) A native of Pontus, known for his very literal and accurate translation of the Old Testament into Greek. Epiphanius (De Pond. et Mens. c. 15) keeps a tradition that he was a relative of the emperor Hadrian, who employed him in rebuilding Jerusalem (Aelia Capitolina, q.v.), and that he converted to Christianity but later reverted to Judaism after being criticized for practicing pagan astrology. He is also said to have been a disciple of Rabbi ’Aqiba (d. CE 132), and seems to be mentioned in Jewish writings as עקילס. Aquila’s version is said to have been used instead of the Septuagint in the synagogues. Christians generally did not like it, claiming without proper evidence that it misrepresented the Messianic passages, but Jerome and Origen praised it. Origen included it in his Hexapla.

It was thought that this was the only copy extant, but in 1897 fragments of two codices were brought to the Cambridge University Library. These have been published—the fragments containing 1 Kings xx. 7-17; 2 Kings xxiii. 12-27 by F.C. Burkitt in 1897, those containing parts of Psalms xc.-ciii. by C. Taylor in 1899. See F.C. Burkitt’s article in the Jewish Encyclopaedia.

It was believed that this was the only existing copy, but in 1897, fragments of two codices were brought to the Cambridge University Library. These have been published—the fragments containing 1 Kings 20:7-17; 2 Kings 23:12-27 by F.C. Burkitt in 1897, and those containing parts of Psalms 90-103 by C. Taylor in 1899. See F.C. Burkitt’s article in the Jewish Encyclopaedia.


AQUILA, CASPAR [Kaspar Adler] (1488-1560), German reformer, was born at Augsburg on the 7th of August 1488, educated there and at Ulm (1502), in Italy (he met Erasmus in Rome), at Bern (1508), Leipzig (1510) and Wittenberg (1513). According to his son, he entered the ministry in August 1514, at Bern. He was for some time a military chaplain. In 1516 he became pastor of Jenga, near Augsburg. Openly proclaiming his adhesion to Luther’s doctrine, he was imprisoned for 249 half a year (1520 or 1522) at Dillingen, by order of the bishop of Augsburg; a death sentence was commuted to banishment through the influence of Isabella, wife of Christian II. of Denmark and sister of Charles V. Returning to Wittenberg he met Luther, acted as tutor to the sons of Franz von Sickingen at Ebernburg, taught Hebrew at Wittenberg, and aided Luther in his version of the Old Testament. The dates and particulars of his career are uncertain till 1527, when he became pastor at Saalfeld, and in 1528, superintendent. His vehement opposition to the Augsburg Interim (1548) led him to take temporary shelter at Rudolstadt with Catherine, countess of Schwarzburg. In 1550 he was appointed dean of the Collegiatstift in Schmalkalden. Here he had a controversy with Andreas Osiander. Restored to Saalfeld, not without opposition, in 1552, he remained there, still engaged in controversy, till his death on the 12th of November 1560. He was twice married, and left four sons. He published numerous sermons, a few Old Testament expositions and some controversial tracts.

Aquila, Caspar [Kaspar Adler] (1488-1560), a German reformer, was born in Augsburg on August 7, 1488. He was educated there and in Ulm (1502), Italy (where he met Erasmus in Rome), Bern (1508), Leipzig (1510), and Wittenberg (1513). According to his son, he entered the ministry in August 1514 in Bern. He served as a military chaplain for a time. In 1516, he became the pastor of Jenga, near Augsburg. By openly supporting Luther’s teachings, he was imprisoned for half a year (either 1520 or 1522) in Dillingen, following an order from the bishop of Augsburg; a death sentence was changed to banishment due to the influence of Isabella, wife of Christian II of Denmark and sister of Charles V. After returning to Wittenberg, he met Luther, served as a tutor for the sons of Franz von Sickingen at Ebernburg, taught Hebrew at Wittenberg, and assisted Luther with his translation of the Old Testament. Dates and details of his career remain uncertain until 1527, when he became the pastor at Saalfeld, and in 1528, he was appointed superintendent. His strong opposition to the Augsburg Interim (1548) forced him to seek temporary refuge in Rudolstadt with Catherine, countess of Schwarzburg. In 1550, he was appointed dean of the Collegiatstift in Schmalkalden, where he had a dispute with Andreas Osiander. He returned to Saalfeld in 1552, not without facing opposition, and stayed there, still engaged in controversies, until his death on November 12, 1560. He was married twice and left behind four sons. He published numerous sermons, a few expositions of the Old Testament, and several controversial tracts.

See G. Kawerau, in A. Hauck’s Realencyklopadie (1896); Allgemeine deutsche Biog. (1875); Lives by J. Avenarius (1718); J.G. Hillinger (1731); Chr. Schlegel (1737); Fr. Gensler (1816).

See G. Kawerau, in A. Hauck’s Realencyklopadie (1896); Allgemeine deutsche Biog. (1875); Lives by J. Avenarius (1718); J.G. Hillinger (1731); Chr. Schlegel (1737); Fr. Gensler (1816).


AQUILA, SERAFINO DELL’ (1466-1500), Italian poet and improvisatore, was born in 1466 at the town of Aquila, from which he took his name, and died in the year 1500. He spent several years at the courts of Cardinal Sforza and Ferdinand, duke of Calabria; but his principal patrons were the Borgias at Rome, from whom he received many favours. Aquila seems to have aimed at an imitation of Dante and Petrarch; and his poems, which were extravagantly praised during the author’s lifetime, are occasionally of considerable merit. His reputation was in great measure due to his remarkable skill as an improvisatore and musician. His works were printed at Venice in 1502, and there have been several subsequent editions.

Aquila, Serafino Dell' (1466-1500), Italian poet and improviser, was born in 1466 in the town of Aquila, which inspired his name, and he died in 1500. He spent several years at the courts of Cardinal Sforza and Ferdinand, duke of Calabria, but his main supporters were the Borgias in Rome, from whom he received many favors. Aquila seems to have aimed to imitate Dante and Petrarch, and his poems, which received extravagant praise during his life, are sometimes quite impressive. His reputation largely came from his exceptional talent as an improviser and musician. His works were printed in Venice in 1502, and there have been several editions since then.


AQUILA, a city of the Abruzzi, Italy, the capital of the province of Aquila, and the seat of an archbishop, 2360 ft. above sea-level, 50 m. directly N.E. of Rome, and 145 m. by rail. Pop. (1901) town, 18,494; commune, 21,261. It lies on a hill in the wide valley of the Aterno, surrounded by mountains on all sides, the Gran Sasso d’Italia being conspicuous on the north-east. It is a favourite summer resort of the Italians, but is cold and windy in winter. In the highest part of the town is the massive citadel, erected by the Spanish viceroy Don Pedro de Toledo in 1534. The church of S. Bernardino di Siena (1472) has a fine Renaissance façade by Nicolò Filotesio (commonly called Cola dell’ Amatrice), and contains the monumental tomb of the saint, decorated with beautiful sculptures, and executed by Silvestro Ariscola in 1480. The church of S. Maria di Collemaggio, just outside the town, has a very fine Romanesque façade of simple design (1270-1280) in red and white marble, with three finely decorated portals and a rose-window above each. The two side doors are also fine. The interior contains the mausoleum of Pope Celestine V. (d. 1296) erected in 1517. Many smaller churches in the town have similar façades (S. Giusta, S. Silvestro, &c.). The town also contains some fine palaces: the municipality has a museum, with a collection of Roman inscriptions and some illuminated service books. The Palazzi Dragonetti and Persichetti contain private collections of pictures. Outside the town is the Fontana delle novantanove cannelle, a fountain with ninety-nine jets distributed along three walls, constructed in 1272. Aquila has some trade in lace and saffron, and possesses other smaller industries. It was a university town in the middle ages, but most of its chairs have now been suppressed.

Aquila is a city in the Abruzzi region of Italy, serving as the capital of the province of Aquila and the seat of an archbishop. It sits 2,360 ft. above sea level, 50 km directly northeast of Rome, and 145 km by rail. The population in 1901 was 18,494 for the town and 21,261 for the commune. The city is located on a hill in the wide Aterno valley, surrounded by mountains, with the Gran Sasso d’Italia prominently visible to the northeast. It’s a popular summer getaway for Italians, but winters can be cold and windy. At the highest point in town stands a massive citadel, built by the Spanish viceroy Don Pedro de Toledo in 1534. The church of S. Bernardino di Siena (1472) features a stunning Renaissance façade designed by Nicolò Filotesio (also known as Cola dell’ Amatrice) and houses the monumental tomb of the saint, adorned with exquisite sculptures created by Silvestro Ariscola in 1480. Just outside the town is the church of S. Maria di Collemaggio, which boasts a beautiful Romanesque façade of simple design (1270-1280) made of red and white marble, with three intricately decorated portals and a rose window above each, as well as elegant side doors. Inside, you’ll find the mausoleum of Pope Celestine V (d. 1296), built in 1517. Many smaller churches in the town, like S. Giusta and S. Silvestro, feature similar façades. The town is also home to several impressive palaces: the municipality has a museum showcasing Roman inscriptions and a collection of illuminated service books, while the Palazzi Dragonetti and Persichetti house private art collections. Just outside the city, there’s the Fontana delle novantanove cannelle, a fountain with ninety-nine jets arranged along three walls, built in 1272. Aquila engages in trade involving lace and saffron and has other smaller industries. It was a university town during the Middle Ages, but most of its academic positions have since been abolished.

Aquila was founded by Conrad, son of the emperor Frederick II., about 1250, as a bulwark against the power of the papacy. It was destroyed by Manfred in 1259, but soon rebuilt by Charles I. of Anjou. Its walls were completed in 1316; and it maintained itself as an almost independent republic until it was subdued in 1521 by the Spaniards, who had become masters of the kingdom of Naples in 1503. It was twice sacked by the French in 1799.

Aquila was established by Conrad, the son of Emperor Frederick II, around 1250, as a defense against the power of the papacy. It was destroyed by Manfred in 1259, but quickly rebuilt by Charles I of Anjou. Its walls were finished in 1316, and it functioned as an almost independent republic until it was conquered by the Spaniards in 1521, who had taken control of the kingdom of Naples in 1503. It was looted by the French twice in 1799.

See V. Bindi, Monumenti storici ed artistici degli Abruzzi (Naples, 1889), pp. 771 seq.

See V. Bindi, Monumenti storici ed artistici degli Abruzzi (Naples, 1889), pp. 771 seq.


AQUILA, in astronomy, the “Eagle,” sometimes named the “Vulture,” a constellation of the northern hemisphere, mentioned by Eudoxus (4th cent. B.C.) and Aratus (3rd cent. B.C.). Ptolemy catalogued nineteen stars jointly in this constellation and in the constellation Antinous, which was named in the reign of the emperor Hadrian (A.D. 117-138), but sometimes, and wrongly, attributed to Tycho Brahe, who catalogued twelve stars in Aquila and seven in Antinous; Hevelius determined twenty-three stars in the first, and nineteen in the second. The most brilliant star of this constellation, α-Aquilae or Altair, has a parallax of 0.23″, and consequently is about eight times as bright as the sun; η-Aquilae is a short-period variable, while Nova Aquilae is a “temporary” or “new” star, discovered by Mrs Fleming of Harvard in 1899.

AQUILA, in astronomy, the “Eagle,” sometimes called the “Vulture,” is a constellation in the northern hemisphere, noted by Eudoxus (4th century BCE) and Aratus (3rd century BCE). Ptolemy listed nineteen stars in this constellation along with those in the constellation Antinous, which was named during the reign of Emperor Hadrian (CE 117-138), although it is often mistakenly credited to Tycho Brahe, who identified twelve stars in Aquila and seven in Antinous. Hevelius recorded twenty-three stars in Aquila and nineteen in Antinous. The brightest star in this constellation, α-Aquilae or Altair, has a parallax of 0.23″, making it about eight times brighter than the sun; η-Aquilae is a short-period variable star, while Nova Aquilae is a “temporary” or “new” star, discovered by Mrs. Fleming of Harvard in 1899.


AQUILA ROMANUS, a Latin grammarian who flourished in the second half of the 3rd century A.D. He was the author of an extant treatise De Figuris Sententiarum et Elocutionis, written as an instalment of a complete rhetorical handbook for the use of a young and eager correspondent. While recommending Demosthenes and Cicero as models, he takes his own examples almost exclusively from Cicero. His treatise is really adapted from that by Alexander, son of Numenius, as is expressly stated by Julius Rufinianus, who brought out a supplementary treatise, augmented by material from other sources. Aquila’s style is harsh and careless, and the Latin is inferior.

Aquila Romanus was a Latin grammarian who thrived in the latter half of the 3rd century CE He wrote a surviving treatise De Figuris Sententiarum et Elocutionis, intended as part of a comprehensive rhetorical guide for a young and eager reader. While he recommends Demosthenes and Cicero as role models, he primarily uses examples from Cicero. His treatise is essentially adapted from that of Alexander, son of Numenius, as noted by Julius Rufinianus, who published a supplementary work enriched with content from other sources. Aquila’s style is rough and careless, and the Latin is subpar.

Halm, Rhetores Latini minores (1863); Wensch, De Aquila Romano (1861).

Halm, Rhetores Latini minores (1863); Wensch, De Aquila Romano (1861).


AQUILEIA, an ancient town of Italy, at the head of the Adriatic at the edge of the lagoons, about 6 m. from the sea, on the river Natiso (mod. Natisone), the course of which has changed somewhat since Roman times. It was founded by the Romans in 181 B.C. as a frontier fortress on the north-east, not far from the site where, two years before, Gaulish invaders had attempted to settle. The colony was led by two men of consular and one of praetorian rank, and 3000 pedites formed the bulk of the settlers. It was probably connected by road with Bononia in 175 B.C.; and subsequently with Genua in 148 B.C. by the Via Postumia, which ran through Cremona, Bedriacum and Altinum, joining the first-mentioned road at Concordia, while the construction of the Via Popilia from Ariminum to Ad Portum near Altinum in 132 B.C. improved the communications still further. In 169 B.C., 1500 more families were settled there as a reinforcement to the garrison. The discovery of the goldfields near the modern Klagenfurt in 150 B.C. (Strabo iv. 208) brought it into notice, and it soon became a place of importance, not only owing to its strategic position, but as a centre of trade, especially in agricultural products. It also had, in later times at least, considerable brickfields. It was originally a Latin colony, but became a municipium probably in 90 B.C. The customs boundary of Italy was close by in Cicero’s day. It was plundered by the Iapydes under Augustus, but, in the period of peace which followed, was able to develop its resources. Augustus visited it during the Pannonian wars in 12-10 B.C. and it was the birthplace of Tiberius’s son by Julia, in the latter year. It was the starting-point of several important roads leading to the north-eastern portion of the empire—the road (Via Iulia Augusta) by Iulium Carnicum to Veldidena (mod. Wilten, near Innsbruck), from which branched off the road into Noricum, leading by Virunum (Klagenfurt) to Lauricum (Lorch) on the Danube, the road into Pannonia, leading to Emona (Laibach)1 and Sirmium (Mitrowitz), the road to Tarsatica (near Fiume) and Siscia (Sissek), and that to Tergeste (Trieste) and the Istrian coast.

AQUILEIA, an ancient town in Italy, located at the northern end of the Adriatic Sea near the lagoons, about 6 miles from the coast, on the Natiso River (now called Natisone), which has shifted a bit since Roman times. It was established by the Romans in 181 BCE as a frontier fortress in the northeast, not far from where Gaulish invaders had tried to settle two years earlier. The colony was led by two men of consular rank and one of praetorian rank, with 3,000 infantry making up most of the settlers. It was likely connected by road to Bononia in 175 B.C.; and later with Genua in 148 B.C. via the Via Postumia, which ran through Cremona, Bedriacum, and Altinum, joining the Bononia route at Concordia, while the construction of the Via Popilia from Ariminum to Ad Portum near Altinum in 132 BCE further improved transportation. In 169 BCE, an additional 1,500 families were settled there to reinforce the garrison. The discovery of goldfields near modern Klagenfurt in 150 BCE (Strabo iv. 208) brought it to prominence, and it quickly became important not only for its strategic location but also as a trade hub, particularly for agricultural products. Later on, it also boasted significant brickfields. Initially a Latin colony, it became a municipium around 90 BCE The customs border of Italy was nearby during Cicero’s time. It was raided by the Iapydes under Augustus, but during the subsequent peace period, it managed to develop its resources. Augustus visited during the Pannonian wars in 12-10 BCE, and it was the birthplace of Tiberius’s son with Julia that same year. Aquileia was the starting point of several key roads leading to the northeastern part of the empire, including the road (Via Iulia Augusta) to Iulium Carnicum and Veldidena (modern Wilten, near Innsbruck), from which a road branched into Noricum, passing through Virunum (Klagenfurt) to Lauricum (Lorch) on the Danube, the road to Pannonia leading to Emona (Laibach) and Sirmium (Mitrowitz), the road to Tarsatica (near Fiume) and Siscia (Sissek), as well as the route to Tergeste (Trieste) and the Istrian coast.

In the war against the Marcomanni in A.D. 167, the town was hard pressed; the fortifications had fallen into disrepair during the long peace. In A.D. 238, when the town took the side of the senate against the emperor Maximinus, they were hastily restored, and proved of sufficient strength to resist for several months, until Maximinus himself was assassinated. The 4th century marks, however, the greatest importance of 250 Aquileia; it became a naval station and, probably, the seat of the corrector Venetiarum et Histriae; a mint was established here, the coins of which are very numerous, and the bishop obtained the rank of patriarch. An imperial palace was constructed here, in which the emperors after the time of Diocletian frequently resided; and the city often played a part in the struggles between the rulers of the 4th century. At the end of the century, Ausonius enumerated it as the ninth among the great cities of the world, placing Rome, Mediolanum and Capua before it, and called it “moenibus et portu celeberrima.” In A.D. 452, however, it was destroyed by Attila, though it continued to exist until the Lombard invasion of A.D. 568. After this the patriarchate was transferred to Grado. In 606 the diocese was divided into two parts, and the patriarchate of Aquileia, protected by the Lombards, was revived, that of Grado being protected by the exarch of Ravenna and later by the doges of Venice. In 1027 and 1044 Patriarch Poppo of Aquileia entered and sacked Grado, and, though the pope reconfirmed the patriarch of the latter in his dignities, the town never recovered, though it continued to be the seat of the patriarchate until its formal transference to Venice in 1450. The seat of the patriarchate of Aquileia had been transferred to Udine in 1238, but returned in 1420 when Venice annexed the territory of Udine. It was finally suppressed in 1751, and the sees of Udine and Gorizia (Görz) established in its stead. Its buildings served as stone quarries for centuries, and no edifices of the Roman period remain above ground. Excavations have revealed one street and the north-west angle of the town walls, while the local museum contains over 2000 inscriptions, besides statues and other antiquities. The cathedral, a flat-roofed basilica, was erected by Patriarch Poppo in 1031 on the site of an earlier church, and rebuilt about 1379 in the Gothic style by Patriarch Marquad. The narthex and baptistery belong to an earlier period. Of the palace of the patriarchs only two isolated columns remain standing. The modern village (pop. 2300) is rendered unhealthy by rice-fields.

In the war against the Marcomanni in CE 167, the town faced significant pressure; the fortifications had fallen into disrepair during the long period of peace. In CE 238, when the town sided with the senate against Emperor Maximinus, they were quickly restored and were strong enough to withstand attacks for several months until Maximinus was assassinated. However, the 4th century was the most significant time for 250 Aquileia; it became a naval station and likely the center of the corrector Venetiarum et Histriae; a mint was established here, producing many coins, and the bishop gained the rank of patriarch. An imperial palace was built here, where emperors often resided after the time of Diocletian, and the city frequently played a role in the political conflicts of the 4th century. By the end of the century, Ausonius listed it as the ninth among the great cities of the world, ranking it behind Rome, Mediolanum, and Capua, and called it “moenibus et portu celeberrima.” However, in AD 452, it was destroyed by Attila but managed to survive until the Lombard invasion of CE 568. After that, the patriarchate moved to Grado. In 606, the diocese was split into two parts, and the patriarchate of Aquileia, protected by the Lombards, was reinstated, while Grado was protected by the exarch of Ravenna and later by the doges of Venice. In 1027 and 1044, Patriarch Poppo of Aquileia attacked and plundered Grado, and although the pope reaffirmed the patriarch's authority in Grado, the town never recovered, though it remained the seat of the patriarchate until it was officially transferred to Venice in 1450. The seat of the patriarchate of Aquileia had been moved to Udine in 1238 but returned in 1420 when Venice annexed Udine. It was ultimately dissolved in 1751, leading to the establishment of the sees of Udine and Gorizia (Görz). Its buildings were used as stone quarries for centuries, and no Roman period structures remain above ground. Excavations uncovered one street and the north-west corner of the town walls, while the local museum houses over 2000 inscriptions, along with statues and other antiquities. The cathedral, a flat-roofed basilica, was built by Patriarch Poppo in 1031 on the site of an earlier church and was rebuilt around 1379 in the Gothic style by Patriarch Marquad. The narthex and baptistery are from an earlier period. Only two isolated columns of the patriarchs' palace still stand. The modern village (pop. 2300) is made unhealthy by rice fields.

See T.W. Jackson, Dalmatia, Istria and the Quarnero (Oxford, 1887), iii. 377 seq.; H. Maionica, Aquileia zur Romerzeit (Görz, 1881), Fundkarte van Aquileia (Görz, 1893), “Inschriften in Grado” (Roman inscriptions removed thither from Aquileia) in Jahreshefte des Österr. Arch. Instituts, i. (1898), Beiblatt, 83, 125.

See T.W. Jackson, Dalmatia, Istria and the Quarnero (Oxford, 1887), iii. 377 seq.; H. Maionica, Aquileia zur Römerzeit (Görz, 1881), Fundkarte van Aquileia (Görz, 1893), “Inschriften in Grado” (Roman inscriptions moved there from Aquileia) in Jahreshefte des Österr. Arch. Instituts, i. (1898), Beiblatt, 83, 125.

(T. As.)

1 This road is described in detail by O. Cuntz in Jahreshefte des Österr. Arch. Inst. v. (1902), Beiblatt, pp. 139 seq.

1 This road is detailed by O. Cuntz in Jahreshefte des Österr. Arch. Inst. v. (1902), Beiblatt, pp. 139 seq.


AQUILLIUS, MANIUS, Roman general, consul in 101 B.C. He successfully put down a revolt of the slaves under Athenion in Sicily. After his return, being accused of extortion, he was acquitted on account of his military services, although there was little doubt of his guilt. In 88 he acted as legate against Mithradates the Great, by whom he was defeated and taken prisoner. Mithradates treated him with great cruelty, and is said to have put him to death by pouring molten gold down his throat.

AQUILLIUS, MANIUS, Roman general, consul in 101 BCE He successfully suppressed a slave revolt led by Athenion in Sicily. After returning, he faced accusations of extortion but was acquitted due to his military achievements, despite strong evidence of his wrongdoing. In 88, he served as legate against Mithridates the Great, who defeated him and captured him. Mithridates treated him harshly and is said to have killed him by pouring molten gold down his throat.

Diodorus Siculus xxxvi. 3; Appian, Mithrid. ii. 17. 21; Vell. Paterculus ii. 18; Cicero, Verres, iii. 54, De Officiis, ii. 14, Tusc. v. 5.

Diodorus Siculus xxxvi. 3; Appian, Mithrid. ii. 17. 21; Vell. Paterculus ii. 18; Cicero, Verres, iii. 54, De Officiis, ii. 14, Tusc. v. 5.


AQUINAS, THOMAS [Thomas of Aquin or Aquino], (c. 1227-1274), scholastic philosopher, known as Doctor Angelicus, Doctor Universalis, was of noble descent, and nearly allied to several of the royal houses of Europe. He was born in 1225 or 1227, at Roccasecca, the castle of his father Landulf, count of Aquino, in the territories of Naples. Having received his elementary education at the monastery of Monte Cassino, he studied for six years at the university of Naples, leaving it in his sixteenth year. While there he probably came under the influence of the Dominicans, who were doing their utmost to enlist within their ranks the ablest young scholars of the age, for in spite of the opposition of his family, which was overcome only by the intervention of Pope Innocent IV., he assumed the habit of St Dominic in his seventeenth year.

Aquinas, Thomas [Thomas Aquinas or Aquino], (c. 1227-1274), scholastic philosopher, known as Doctor Angelicus, Doctor Universalis, came from a noble background and was closely related to several royal families in Europe. He was born in 1225 or 1227 in Roccasecca, his father Landulf's castle, Count of Aquino, in the Naples region. He received his early education at the monastery of Monte Cassino and studied at the University of Naples for six years, leaving when he was sixteen. During this time, he likely fell under the influence of the Dominicans, who were actively trying to recruit the brightest young scholars of the time. Despite his family's opposition, which was only resolved through the intervention of Pope Innocent IV, he took on the habit of St. Dominic at seventeen.

His superiors, seeing his great aptitude for theological study, sent him to the Dominican school in Cologne, where Albertus Magnus was lecturing on philosophy and theology. In 1245 Albertus was called to Paris, and there Aquinas followed him, and remained with him for three years, at the end of which he graduated as bachelor of theology. In 1248 he returned to Cologne with Albertus, and was appointed second lecturer and magister studentium. This year may be taken as the beginning of his literary activity and public life. Before he left Paris he had thrown himself with ardour into the controversy raging between the university and the Friar-Preachers respecting the liberty of teaching, resisting both by speeches and pamphlets the authorities of the university; and when the dispute was referred to the pope, the youthful Aquinas was chosen to defend his order, which he did with such success as to overcome the arguments of Guillaume de St Amour, the champion of the university, and one of the most celebrated men of the day. In 1257, along with his friend Bonaventura, he was created doctor of theology, and began to give courses of lectures upon this subject in Paris, and also in Rome and other towns in Italy. From this time onwards his life was one of incessant toil; he was continually engaged in the active service of his order, was frequently travelling upon long and tedious journeys, and was constantly consulted on affairs of state by the reigning pontiff.

His superiors, recognizing his talent for studying theology, sent him to the Dominican school in Cologne, where Albertus Magnus was teaching philosophy and theology. In 1245, Albertus was called to Paris, and Aquinas followed him there, staying for three years, after which he graduated with a bachelor's degree in theology. In 1248, he returned to Cologne with Albertus and was appointed as the second lecturer and magister studentium. This year marks the start of his literary and public life. Before leaving Paris, he passionately engaged in the ongoing debate between the university and the Friar-Preachers about the freedom to teach, opposing the university authorities through speeches and pamphlets. When the issue was brought before the pope, the young Aquinas was selected to defend his order, successfully countering the arguments of Guillaume de St Amour, the university's champion and one of the most prominent figures of the time. In 1257, along with his friend Bonaventura, he became a doctor of theology and began lecturing on the subject in Paris, Rome, and other cities in Italy. From this point on, his life was filled with constant work; he was always active in serving his order, frequently embarking on long and exhausting journeys, and was regularly consulted on state matters by the reigning pontiff.

In 1263 we find him at the chapter of the Dominican order held in London. In 1268 he was lecturing now in Rome and now in Bologna, all the while engaged in the public business of the church. In 1271 he was again in Paris, lecturing to the students, managing the affairs of the church and consulted by the king, Louis VIII., his kinsman, on affairs of state. In 1272 the commands of the chief of his order and the request of King Charles brought him back to the professor’s chair at Naples. All this time he was preaching every day, writing homilies, disputations, lectures, and finding time to work hard at his great work the Summa Theologiae. Such rewards as the church could bestow had been offered to him. He refused the archbishopric of Naples and the abbacy of Monte Cassino. In January 1274 he was summoned by Pope Gregory X. to attend the council convened at Lyons, to investigate and if possible settle the differences between the Greek and Latin churches. Though suffering from illness, he at once set out on the journey; finding his strength failing on the way, he was carried to the Cistercian monastery of Fossa Nuova, in the diocese of Terracina, where, after a lingering illness of seven weeks, he died on the 7th of March 1274, Dante (Purg. xx. 69) asserts that he was poisoned by order of Charles of Anjou. Villani (ix. 218) quotes the belief, and the Anonimo Fiorentino describes the crime and its motive. But Muratori, reproducing the account given by one of Thomas’s friends, gives no hint of foul play. Aquinas was canonized in 1323 by Pope John XXII., and in 1567 Pius V. ranked the festival of St Thomas with those of the four great Latin fathers, Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome and Gregory. No theologian save Augustine has had an equal influence on the theological thought and language of the Western Church, a fact which was strongly emphasized by Leo XIII. (q.v.) in his Encyclical of August 4, 1879, which directed the clergy to take the teachings of Aquinas as the basis of their theological position. In 1880 he was declared patron of all Roman Catholic educational establishments. In a monastery at Naples, near the cathedral of St Januarius, is still shown a cell in which he is said to have lived.

In 1263, he was at the chapter of the Dominican order held in London. By 1268, he was lecturing both in Rome and Bologna, while also handling the church's public affairs. In 1271, he returned to Paris to lecture to students, manage church matters, and advise his relative, King Louis VIII., on state issues. In 1272, he was called back to the professor’s position at Naples by the leader of his order and at the request of King Charles. Throughout this time, he was preaching daily, writing homilies, debates, lectures, and diligently working on his major work, the Summa Theologiae. The church offered him various honors; he turned down the archbishopric of Naples and the abbacy of Monte Cassino. In January 1274, Pope Gregory X. summoned him to attend a council in Lyons aimed at addressing the disagreements between the Greek and Latin churches. Despite being ill, he immediately set out for the journey; however, as his strength dwindled along the way, he was taken to the Cistercian monastery of Fossa Nuova in the diocese of Terracina, where he passed away after a prolonged illness of seven weeks on March 7, 1274. Dante (Purg. xx. 69) claimed he was poisoned on Charles of Anjou's orders. Villani (ix. 218) mentions this belief, and the Anonimo Fiorentino describes the crime and its motive. However, Muratori, citing one of Thomas's friends, gives no indication of foul play. Aquinas was canonized in 1323 by Pope John XXII., and in 1567, Pius V. placed the feast of St. Thomas alongside those of the four great Latin fathers: Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome, and Gregory. No theologian except Augustine has had a comparable impact on the theological thought and language of the Western Church, a point that Leo XIII. (q.v.) highlighted in his Encyclical on August 4, 1879, which instructed the clergy to base their theological stance on Aquinas's teachings. In 1880, he was named the patron of all Roman Catholic educational institutions. A cell in a Naples monastery near the cathedral of St. Januarius is still shown today as the place where he is said to have lived.

The writings of Thomas are of great importance for philosophy as well as for theology, for by nature and education he is the spirit of scholasticism incarnate. The principles on which his system rested were these. He held that there were two sources of knowledge—the mysteries of Christian faith and the truths of human reason. The distinction between these two was made emphatic by Aquinas, who is at pains, especially in his treatise Contra Gentiles, to make it plain that each is a distinct fountain of knowledge, but that revelation is the more important of the two. Revelation is a source of knowledge, rather than the manifestation in the world of a divine life, and its chief characteristic is that it presents men with mysteries, which are to be believed even when they cannot be understood. Revelation is not Scripture alone, for Scripture taken by itself does not correspond exactly with his description; nor is it church tradition alone, for church tradition must so far rest on Scripture. Revelation is a divine source of knowledge, of which Scripture and church tradition are the channels; and he who would rightly 251 understand theology must familiarize himself with Scripture, the teachings of the fathers, and the decisions of councils, in such a way as to be able to make part of himself, as it were, those channels along which this divine knowledge flowed. Aquinas’s conception of reason is in some way parallel with his conception of revelation. Reason is in his idea not the individual reason, but the fountain of natural truth, whose chief channels are the various systems of heathen philosophy, and more especially the thoughts of Plato and the methods of Aristotle. Reason and revelation are separate sources of knowledge; and man can put himself in possession of each, because he can bring himself into relation to the church on the one hand, and the system of philosophy, or more strictly Aristotle, on the other. The conception will be made clearer when it is remembered that Aquinas, taught by the mysterious author of the writings of the pseudo-Dionysius, who so marvellously influenced medieval writers, sometimes spoke of a natural revelation, or of reason as a source of truths in themselves mysterious, and was always accustomed to say that reason as well as revelation contained two kinds of knowledge. The first kind lay quite beyond the power of man to receive it, the second was within man’s reach. In reason, as in revelation, man can only attain to the lower kind of knowledge; there is a higher kind which we may not hope to reach.

The writings of Thomas are very important for both philosophy and theology because he embodies the spirit of scholasticism through his nature and education. His system is based on two sources of knowledge— the mysteries of Christian faith and the truths of human reason. Aquinas emphasized the distinction between these two, particularly in his treatise Contra Gentiles, making it clear that each is a distinct source of knowledge, but revelation is the more significant of the two. Revelation serves as a source of knowledge rather than just a showcase of divine life in the world, and its main characteristic is that it presents people with mysteries that should be believed even when they cannot be fully understood. Revelation is not limited to Scripture alone, as Scripture on its own does not fully match his definition; nor is it solely based on church tradition, since church tradition must rely on Scripture. Revelation is a divine source of knowledge, with Scripture and church tradition acting as the channels through which it flows. Anyone who wants to understand theology properly should engage with Scripture, the teachings of the early church fathers, and the decisions of church councils, internalizing these channels of divine knowledge. Aquinas's view of reason parallels his view of revelation. He sees reason not as individual reasoning but as a source of natural truth, primarily represented by various systems of pagan philosophy, especially the ideas of Plato and the methods of Aristotle. Reason and revelation are distinct sources of knowledge, and individuals can access both by connecting with the church on one side and the philosophical system, particularly Aristotle, on the other. This concept becomes clearer when considering that Aquinas, influenced by the enigmatic author of the pseudo-Dionysius's writings, which had a profound impact on medieval thinkers, occasionally spoke of a natural revelation or reason as a source of intrinsically mysterious truths. He always maintained that both reason and revelation contained two kinds of knowledge. The first type lies beyond human capacity to grasp, while the second is within human reach. In both reason and revelation, humanity can only attain the lower level of knowledge; there is a higher level that we may not hope to achieve.

But while reason and revelation are two distinct sources of truths, the truths are not contradictory; for in the last resort they rest on one absolute truth—they come from the one source of knowledge, God, the Absolute One. Hence arises the compatibility of philosophy and theology which was the fundamental axiom of scholasticism, and the possibility of a Summa Theologiae, which is a Summa Philosophiae as well. All the many writings of Thomas are preparatory to his great work the Summa Theologiae, and show us the progress of his mind training for this his life work. In the Summa Catholicae Fidei contra Gentiles he shows how a Christian theology is the sum and crown of all science. This work is in its design apologetic, and is meant to bring within the range of Christian thought all that is of value in Mahommedan science. He carefully establishes the necessity of revelation as a source of knowledge, not merely because it aids us in comprehending in a somewhat better way the truths already furnished by reason, as some of the Arabian philosophers and Maimonides had acknowledged, but because it is the absolute source of our knowledge of the mysteries of the Christian faith; and then he lays down the relations to be observed between reason and revelation, between philosophy and theology. This work, Contra Gentiles, may be taken as an elaborate exposition of the method of Aquinas. That method, however, implied a careful study and comprehension of the results which accrued to man from reason and revelation, and a thorough grasp of all that had been done by man in relation to those two sources of human knowledge; and so, in his preliminary writings, Thomas proceeds to master the two provinces. The results of revelation he found in the Holy Scriptures and in the writings of the fathers and the great theologians of the church; and his method was to proceed backwards. He began with Peter of Lombardy (who had reduced to theological order, in his famous book on the Sentences, the various authoritative statements of the church upon doctrine) in his In Quatuor Sententiarum P. Lombardi libros. Then came his deliverances upon undecided points in theology, in his XII. Quodlibeta Disputata, and his Quaestiones Disputatae. His Catena Aurea next appeared, which, under the form of a commentary on the Gospels, was really an exhaustive summary of the theological teaching of the greatest of the church fathers. This side of his preparation was finished by a close study of Scripture, the results of which are contained in his commentaries, In omnes Epistolas Dim Apostoli Expositio, his Super Isaiam et Jeremiam, and his In Psalmos. Turning now to the other side, we have evidence, not only from tradition but from his writings, that he was acquainted with Plato and the mystical Platonists; but he had the sagacity to perceive that Aristotle was the great representative of philosophy, and that his writings contained the best results and method which the natural reason had as yet attained to. Accordingly Aquinas prepared himself on this side by commentaries on Aristotle’s De Interpretatione, on his Posterior Analytics, on the Metaphysics, the Physics, the De Anima, and on Aristotle’s other psychological and physical writings, each commentary having for its aim to lay hold of the material and grasp the method contained and employed in each treatise. Fortified by this exhaustive preparation, Aquinas began his Summa Theologiae, which he intended to be the sum of all known learning, arranged according to the best method, and subordinate to the dictates of the church. Practically it came to be the theological dicta of the church, explained according to the philosophy of Aristotle and his Arabian commentators. The Summa is divided into three great parts, which shortly may be said to treat of God, Man and the God-Man. The first and the second parts are wholly the work of Aquinas, but of the third part only the first ninety quaestiones are his; the rest of it was finished in accordance with his designs. The first book, after a short introduction upon the nature of theology as understood by Aquinas, proceeds in 119 questions to discuss the nature, attributes and relations of God; and this is not done as in a modern work on theology, but the questions raised in the physics of Aristotle find a place alongside of the statements of Scripture, while all subjects in any way related to the central theme are brought into the discourse. The second part is divided into two, which are quoted as Prima Secundae and Secunda Secundae. This second part has often been described as ethic, but this is scarcely true. The subject is man, treated as Aristotle does, according to his τέλος, and so Aquinas discusses all the ethical, psychological and theological questions which arise; but any theological discussion upon man must be mainly ethical, and so a great proportion of the first part, and almost the whole of the second, has to do with ethical questions. In his ethical discussions (a full account of which is given under Ethics) Aquinas distinguishes theological from natural virtues and vices; the theological virtues are faith, hope and charity; the natural, justice, prudence and the like. The theological virtues are founded on faith, in opposition to the natural, which are founded on reason; and as faith with Aquinas is always belief in a proposition, not trust in a personal Saviour, conformably with his idea that revelation is a new knowledge rather than a new life, the relation of unbelief to virtue is very strictly and narrowly laid down and enforced. The third part of the Summa is also divided into two parts, but by accident rather than by design. Aquinas died ere he had finished his great work, and what has been added to complete the scheme is appended as a Supplementum Tertiae Partis. In this third part Aquinas discusses the person, office and work of Christ, and had begun to discuss the sacraments, when death put an end to his labours.

But while reason and revelation are two separate sources of truth, they don’t contradict each other; in the end, they rely on one absolute truth—they both come from the same source of knowledge, God, the Absolute One. This gives rise to the harmony between philosophy and theology, which was the key principle of scholasticism, and makes a Summa Theologiae possible, which is also a Summa Philosophiae. All of Thomas's various writings lead up to his major work, the Summa Theologiae, showing the development of his thoughts as he prepared for this life work. In the Summa Catholicae Fidei contra Gentiles, he demonstrates how Christian theology encapsulates and crowns all science. This work is designed to be apologetic and aims to incorporate into Christian thought everything of value in Islamic science. He carefully establishes the necessity of revelation as a source of knowledge, not just because it helps us understand the truths already provided by reason, as some Arabian philosophers and Maimonides acknowledged, but because it is the ultimate source for our knowledge of the mysteries of the Christian faith. He then outlines the relationship between reason and revelation, and between philosophy and theology. This work, Contra Gentiles, can be seen as a detailed explanation of Aquinas's method. However, this method required a careful study and understanding of the results that reason and revelation offer humanity, and a comprehensive grasp of everything humans have done regarding these two sources of knowledge. Thus, in his earlier writings, Thomas aims to master both areas. He finds the results of revelation in the Holy Scriptures and in the works of the Church Fathers and major theologians; his approach was to start from the end. He began with Peter of Lombardy, who organized various authoritative church statements about doctrine in his famous book on the Sentences, in his In Quatuor Sententiarum P. Lombardi libros. Then he addressed unresolved points in theology in his XII. Quodlibeta Disputata and his Quaestiones Disputatae. Next came his Catena Aurea, which, presented as a commentary on the Gospels, was in fact a comprehensive summary of the theological teachings of the greatest Church Fathers. This part of his preparation concluded with a close study of Scripture, the results of which are found in his commentaries, In omnes Epistolas Dim Apostoli Expositio, Super Isaiam et Jeremiam, and In Psalmos. Now, regarding the other side, we find evidence, not only from tradition but also from his writings, that he was familiar with Plato and the mystical Platonists; however, he was wise enough to realize that Aristotle was the great representative of philosophy, whose works contained the best results and methods that natural reason had achieved up to that point. Thus, Aquinas prepared himself on this front through commentaries on Aristotle’s De Interpretatione, Posterior Analytics, Metaphysics, Physics, De Anima, and other psychological and physical writings of Aristotle, with each commentary aiming to capture the material and method employed in each treatise. Armed with this comprehensive preparation, Aquinas began his Summa Theologiae, which he intended to be a comprehensive account of all known learning, organized according to the best method and aligned with the teachings of the church. In practice, it became the theological teachings of the church, explained through the philosophy of Aristotle and his Arabic commentators. The Summa is divided into three major parts, which can be briefly described as addressing God, Man, and the God-Man. The first and second parts are entirely the work of Aquinas, while in the third part, only the first ninety questions are his; the remainder was completed according to his designs. The first book starts with a brief introduction on the nature of theology as Aquinas understood it and then discusses the nature, attributes, and relationships of God in 119 questions. This is not done like a modern theology work; instead, the questions raised in Aristotle's physics are intertwined with Scripture, incorporating all topics related to the main theme into the discourse. The second part is divided into two sections, referred to as Prima Secundae and Secunda Secundae. This second part is often described as ethical, but that isn’t fully accurate. The subject is humanity, approached as Aristotle did, according to his end, and Aquinas examines all ethical, psychological, and theological questions that arise. However, any theological discussion about humanity must be largely ethical, so a significant portion of the first part and nearly all of the second part deal with ethical questions. In his ethical discussions (which are detailed under Ethics), Aquinas distinguishes between theological and natural virtues and vices; the theological virtues are faith, hope, and charity, while the natural ones include justice, prudence, and similar qualities. The theological virtues are based on faith, in contrast to the natural virtues, which are based on reason. And since faith for Aquinas always means belief in a proposition rather than trust in a personal Savior, consistent with his idea that revelation provides new knowledge rather than a new life, the connection between unbelief and virtue is defined and emphasized very strictly. The third part of the Summa is also split into two sections, but this is more happenstance than intentional. Aquinas died before he could complete his monumental work, so what was added to finalize the structure is appended as a Supplementum Tertiae Partis. In this third part, Aquinas discusses the person, role, and work of Christ and had begun to address the sacraments when death ended his efforts.

The purely philosophical theories of Aquinas are explained in the article Scholasticism. In connexion with the problem of universals, he held that the diversity of individuals depends on the quantitative division of matter (materia signata), and in this way he attracted the criticism of the Scotists, who pointed out that this very matter is individual and determinate, and, therefore, itself requires explanation. In general, Aquinas maintained in different senses the real existence of universals ante rem, in re and post rem.

The purely philosophical theories of Aquinas are explained in the article Scholasticism. In connection with the issue of universals, he argued that the differences among individuals come from the quantitative division of matter (materia signata), which led to criticism from the Scotists. They pointed out that this very matter is individual and specific, and, therefore, needs explanation itself. In general, Aquinas affirmed the actual existence of universals in different ways: ante rem, in re, and post rem.

The best modern edition of the works of Aquinas is that prepared at the expense of Leo XIII. (Rome, 1882-1903). The Abbé Migne published a very useful edition of the Summa Theologiae, in four 8vo vols., as an appendix to his Patrologiae Cursus Completus; English editions, J. Rickaby (London, 1872), J.M. Ashley (London, 1888). See Acta Sanct., vii. Martii; A. Touron, La Vie de St Thomas d’Aquin, avec un exposé de sa doctrine et de ses ouvrages (Paris, 1737); Karl Werner, Der Heilige Thomas van Aquino (1858); and R.B. Vaughan, St Thomas of Aquin, his Life and Labours (London, 1872): other lives by P. Cavanagh (London, 1890); E. Desmousseaux de Giuré (Paris, 1888); M. Didot (Louvain, 1894). For the philosophy of Aquinas, see Albert Stöckl, Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters, ii.; B. Hauréau, De la philosophie scolastique, vol. ii.; J. Frohschammer, Die Philos. d. Th. van A. (Leipzig, 1889); K. Prantl, Geschichte d. Logik, vol. iii.; C.M. Schneider, Natur, Vernunft, Gott (Regensburg, 1883), Das Wissen Gottes nach d. Lehre des Th. v. A. (4 vols. Regensburg, 1884-1886), Die socialistische Staatsidee beleuchtet durch Th. v. A. (Paderborn, 1894); A. Harnack, Hist, of Dogma (trans. Wm. 252 Gilchrist, London, 1899); Ueberweg’s History of Philosophy, vol. i. See also H.C. O’Neill, New Things and Old in St Thomas Aquinas (1909), with biography.

The best modern edition of Aquinas’ works was put together at the expense of Leo XIII (Rome, 1882-1903). Abbé Migne published a very helpful edition of the Summa Theologiae in four 8vo volumes as an appendix to his Patrologiae Cursus Completus; English editions include those by J. Rickaby (London, 1872) and J.M. Ashley (London, 1888). See Acta Sanct., vii. Martii; A. Touron, La Vie de St Thomas d’Aquin, avec un exposé de sa doctrine et de ses ouvrages (Paris, 1737); Karl Werner, Der Heilige Thomas van Aquino (1858); and R.B. Vaughan, St Thomas of Aquin, his Life and Labours (London, 1872): other biographies by P. Cavanagh (London, 1890); E. Desmousseaux de Giuré (Paris, 1888); M. Didot (Louvain, 1894). For Aquinas’ philosophy, see Albert Stöckl, Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters, vol. ii; B. Hauréau, De la philosophie scolastique, vol. ii; J. Frohschammer, Die Philos. d. Th. van A. (Leipzig, 1889); K. Prantl, Geschichte d. Logik, vol. iii; C.M. Schneider, Natur, Vernunft, Gott (Regensburg, 1883), Das Wissen Gottes nach d. Lehre des Th. v. A. (4 vols. Regensburg, 1884-1886), Die socialistische Staatsidee beleuchtet durch Th. v. A. (Paderborn, 1894); A. Harnack, Hist, of Dogma (trans. Wm. Gilchrist, London, 1899); Ueberweg’s History of Philosophy, vol. i. Also see H.C. O’Neill, New Things and Old in St Thomas Aquinas (1909), which includes a biography.

(T. M. L.; J. M. M.)

AQUINO, a town and episcopal see of Campania, Italy, in the province of Caserta; it is 56 m. N.W. by rail from the town of Caserta, and 7½ m. N.W. of Cassino. Pop. (1901) 2672. The modern town, close to the ancient, is unimportant, though the canons of the cathedral have the privilege of wearing the mitre and cappa magna at great festivals. It is close to the site of the ancient Aquinum, a municipium in the time of Cicero, and made a colony by the Triumviri, the birthplace of Juvenal and of the emperor Pescennius Niger. The Via Latina traversed it; one of the gates through which it passed, now called Porta S. Lorenzo, is still well preserved, and there are remains within the walls (portions of which, built of large blocks of limestone, still remain) of two (so called) temples, a basilica and an amphitheatre (see R. Delbrück in Röm. Mitteilungen, 1903, p. 143). Outside, on the south is a well-preserved triumphal arch with composite capitals, and close to it the 11th-century basilica of S. Maria Libera, a handsome building in the Romanesque style, but now roofless. Several Roman inscriptions are built into it, and many others that have been found indicate the ancient importance of the place, which, though it does not appear in early history, is vouched for by Cicero and Strabo.1 A colony was planted here by the Triumviri. St Thomas Aquinas was born in the castle of Roccasecca, 5 m. N.

AQUINO, a town and episcopal see in Campania, Italy, located in the province of Caserta; it is 56 miles northwest by rail from the town of Caserta, and 7.5 miles northwest of Cassino. Population (1901) was 2,672. The modern town, which is near the ancient one, is not very significant, although the canons of the cathedral have the privilege of wearing the mitre and cappa magna at major festivals. It is close to the site of ancient Aquinum, a municipium during Cicero's time, which was turned into a colony by the Triumviri and is the birthplace of Juvenal and Emperor Pescennius Niger. The Via Latina ran through it; one of the gates it passed through, now called Porta S. Lorenzo, is still well-preserved, and there are remnants within the walls (some of which are built from large blocks of limestone) of two so-called temples, a basilica, and an amphitheater (see R. Delbrück in Röm. Mitteilungen, 1903, p. 143). Outside, to the south, there is a well-preserved triumphal arch with composite capitals, and nearby stands the 11th-century basilica of S. Maria Libera, a beautiful building in the Romanesque style, but now without a roof. Several Roman inscriptions are embedded in it, along with many others that have been discovered, indicating the ancient significance of the location, which, despite not appearing in early history, is confirmed by Cicero and Strabo.1 A colony was established here by the Triumviri. St. Thomas Aquinas was born in the castle of Roccasecca, 5 miles north.

See E. Grossi, Aquinum (Rome, 1907).

See E. Grossi, Aquinum (Rome, 1907).

(T. As.)

1 According to H. Nissen, Ital. Landeskunde (Berlin, 1902), ii. 665, a road ran from here to Minturnae; but no traces of it are to be seen.

1 According to H. Nissen, Ital. Landeskunde (Berlin, 1902), ii. 665, a road went from here to Minturnae; however, there are no remains of it to be found.


AQUITAINE, the name of an ancient province in France, the extent of which has varied considerably from time to time. About the time of Julius Caesar the name Aquitania was given to that part of Gaul lying between the Pyrenees and the Garonne, and its inhabitants were a race, or races, distinct from the Celts. The name Aquitania is probably a form of Auscetani, which in its turn is a lengthened form of Ausces, and is thus cognate with the words Basque and Wasconia, i.e. Gascony. Although many of the tribes of Aquitania submitted to Julius Caesar, it was not until about 28 B.C. that the district was brought under the Roman yoke. In keeping with the Roman policy of denationalization, the term Aquitania was extended, and under Augustus it included the whole of Gaul south and west of the Loire and the Allier, and thus ceased to possess ethnographical importance. In the 3rd century A.D. this larger Aquitania was divided into three parts: Aquitania Prima, the eastern part of the district between the Loire and the Garonne; Aquitania Secunda, the western part of the same district; and Aquitania Tertia, or Novempopulana, the region between the Garonne and the Pyrenees, or the original Aquitania. The seats of government were respectively Bourges, Bordeaux and Eauze; the province contained twenty-six cities, and was in the diocese of Vienne. Like the rest of Gaul, Aquitania absorbed a large measure of Roman civilization, and this continued to distinguish the district down to a late period. In the 5th century the Visigoths established themselves in Aquitania Secunda, and also in parts of Aquitania Prima and Novempopulana, but after the defeat of their king Alaric II. by the Franks under Clovis in 507, they were supplanted by their conquerors. Clovis and his successors extended their authority nominally to the Pyrenees, but, as Guizot has remarked, “the conquest of Aquitania by Clovis left it almost as alien to the people and king of Franks as it had formerly been.” Subsequently during the Merovingian period it was contended for by the feeble rulers of the various Frankish kingdoms, and was frequently partitioned among them; but the Aquitanians had little difficulty in effectually resisting this authority, although they did not establish themselves as a separate kingdom. About 628, indeed, they gathered around Charibert, or Haribert, a brother of the Frankish king, Dagobert I., in the hope of national independence; but after his death in 630 they returned to their former condition. But this effort, although a failure, brought about a certain measure of concord between the two principal races inhabiting the district, and so prepared the way for the stubborn resistance which, subsequently, the Aquitanians were able to offer to the Franks.

AQUITANE, is the name of an ancient province in France, which has changed in size over the years. Around the time of Julius Caesar, the area known as Aquitania referred to the part of Gaul located between the Pyrenees and the Garonne, and its people were a distinct race, or races, from the Celts. The name Aquitania likely comes from Auscetani, which is an extended form of Ausces, and is related to the terms Basque and Wasconia, i.e. Gascony. Although many tribes in Aquitania surrendered to Julius Caesar, it wasn’t until around 28 BCE that the region was fully under Roman control. Following the Roman policy of denationalization, the term Aquitania was expanded, and during Augustus’s reign, it came to include all of Gaul south and west of the Loire and the Allier, losing its ethnic significance. In the 3rd century CE, this larger Aquitania was split into three parts: Aquitania Prima, the eastern part of the area between the Loire and the Garonne; Aquitania Secunda, the western part of the same area; and Aquitania Tertia, or Novempopulana, the region between the Garonne and the Pyrenees, which was the original Aquitania. The government seats were Bourges, Bordeaux, and Eauze respectively; the province had twenty-six cities and was part of the diocese of Vienne. Like the rest of Gaul, Aquitania adopted a significant amount of Roman culture, which continued to set it apart for a long time. In the 5th century, the Visigoths settled in Aquitania Secunda, as well as parts of Aquitania Prima and Novempopulana, but after their king Alaric II. was defeated by the Franks under Clovis in 507, they were replaced by their conquerors. Clovis and his successors nominally extended their rule to the Pyrenees, but, as Guizot pointed out, “the conquest of Aquitania by Clovis left it almost as foreign to the people and king of the Franks as it had been before.” Later, during the Merovingian period, it was fought over by the weak leaders of various Frankish kingdoms and was often divided among them; however, the Aquitanians found it relatively easy to resist this control, even though they didn’t form a separate kingdom. Around 628, they rallied around Charibert, or Haribert, a brother of the Frankish king Dagobert I., hoping for national independence; but after his death in 630, they fell back into their previous situation. This attempt, although unsuccessful, led to a degree of unity between the two main groups living in the area, paving the way for the strong resistance that the Aquitanians would later mount against the Franks.

The first line of dukes began about 660 with one Felix, who, like his successor, Lupus, probably owned allegiance to the Frankish kings, and whose seat of government was Toulouse. About the end of the 7th century an adventurer named Odo, or Eudes, made himself master of this region. Attacked by the Saracens he inflicted on them a crushing defeat, but when they reappeared, he was obliged to invoke the aid of Charles Martel, who, as the price of his support, claimed and received the homage of his ally. Odo was succeeded by his son Hunald, who after carrying on a war against the Franks under Pippin the Short, retired to a convent, leaving both the kingdom and the conflict to Waifer, or Guaifer. For some years Waifer strenuously carried on an unequal struggle with the Franks, but he was assassinated in 768, and with him perished the national independence, although not the national individuality, of the Aquitanians. In 781 Charlemagne bestowed Aquitaine upon his young son, Louis, and as Louis was generally described as a king, Aquitaine is referred to during the Carolingian period as a kingdom, and not as a duchy. When Louis succeeded Charlemagne as emperor in 814, he granted Aquitaine to his son Pippin, on whose death in 838 the Aquitanians chose his son Pippin II. (d. 865) as their king. The emperor Louis I., however, opposed this arrangement and gave the kingdom to his youngest son Charles, afterwards the emperor Charles the Bald. Now followed a time of confusion and conflict which resulted eventually in the success of Charles, although from 845 to 852 Pippin was in possession of the kingdom. In 852 Pippin was imprisoned by Charles the Bald, who soon afterwards gave to the Aquitanians his own son Charles as their king. On the death of the younger Charles in 866, his brother Louis the Stammerer succeeded to the kingdom, and when, in 877, Louis became king of the Franks, Aquitaine was united to the Frankish crown.

The first dukes emerged around 660 with a figure named Felix, who, like his successor Lupus, likely owed loyalty to the Frankish kings and governed from Toulouse. By the end of the 7th century, an adventurer named Odo, or Eudes, took control of the region. He faced a violent attack from the Saracens, whom he defeated decisively. However, when they returned, he had to call for help from Charles Martel, who, in return for his support, required and received Odo's loyalty. Odo was succeeded by his son Hunald, who, after waging war against the Franks under Pippin the Short, withdrew to a convent, leaving the realm and the conflict to Waifer, or Guaifer. For several years, Waifer fought a challenging battle against the Franks, but he was assassinated in 768, marking the end of Aquitanian national independence, although their distinct identity remained. In 781, Charlemagne granted Aquitaine to his young son, Louis, who was often referred to as a king, so during the Carolingian period, Aquitaine was called a kingdom rather than a duchy. When Louis became emperor after Charlemagne in 814, he gave Aquitaine to his son Pippin. After Pippin's death in 838, the Aquitanians chose his son Pippin II (d. 865) as their king. However, Emperor Louis I opposed this and awarded the kingdom to his youngest son Charles, later known as Charles the Bald. This led to a period of turmoil that ultimately favored Charles, although from 845 to 852, Pippin held the kingdom. In 852, Pippin was captured by Charles the Bald, who subsequently appointed his own son Charles as king for the Aquitanians. Upon the younger Charles's death in 866, his brother Louis the Stammerer took over the kingdom, and when Louis became king of the Franks in 877, Aquitaine was incorporated into the Frankish crown.

A new period now begins in the history of Aquitaine. By a treaty made in 845 between Charles the Bald and Pippin II. the kingdom had been diminished by the loss of Poitou, Saintonge and Angoumois, which had been given to Rainulf I., count of Poitiers. Somewhat earlier than this date the title of duke of the Aquitanians had been revived, and this was now borne by Rainulf, although it was also claimed by the counts of Toulouse. The new duchy of Aquitaine, comprising the three districts already mentioned, remained in the hands of Rainulf’s successors, in spite of some trouble with their Frankish overlords, until 893 when Count Rainulf II. was poisoned by order of King Charles III. the Simple. Charles then bestowed the duchy upon William the Pious, count of Auvergne, the founder of the abbey of Cluny, who was succeeded in 918 by his nephew, Count William II., who died in 926. A succession of dukes followed, one of whom, William IV., fought against Hugh Capet, king of France, and another of whom, William V., called the Great, was able considerably to strengthen and extend his authority, although he failed in his attempt to secure the Lombard crown. William’s duchy almost reached the limits of the Roman Aquitania Prima and Secunda, but did not stretch south of the Garonne, a district which was in the possession of the Gascons. William died in 1030, and the names of William VI. (d. 1038), Odo or Eudes (d. 1039), who joined Gascony to his duchy, William VII. and William VIII. bring us down to William IX. (d. 1127), who succeeded in 1087, and made himself famous as a crusader and a troubadour. William X. (d. 1137) married his daughter Eleanor to Louis VII., king of France, and Aquitaine went as her dowry. When Eleanor was divorced from Louis and was married in 1152 to Henry II. of England the duchy passed to her new husband, who, having suppressed a revolt there, gave it to his son Richard. When Richard died in 1199, it reverted to Eleanor, and on her death five years later, was united to the English crown and henceforward followed the fortunes of the English possessions in France. Aquitaine as it came to the English kings stretched as of old from the Loire to the Pyrenees, but its extent was curtailed on the 253 south-east by the wide lands of the counts of Toulouse. The name Guienne, a corruption of Aquitaine, seems to have come into use about the 10th century, and the subsequent history of Aquitaine is merged in that of Gascony (q.v.) and Guienne (q.v.).

A new era starts in the history of Aquitaine. A treaty in 845 between Charles the Bald and Pippin II had reduced the kingdom by losing Poitou, Saintonge, and Angoumois, which were given to Rainulf I, count of Poitiers. Prior to this, the title of duke of the Aquitanians had been revived and was now held by Rainulf, although the counts of Toulouse also claimed it. The new duchy of Aquitaine, which included the three regions mentioned, remained with Rainulf's successors despite some issues with their Frankish overlords until 893 when Count Rainulf II was poisoned on the orders of King Charles III the Simple. Charles then granted the duchy to William the Pious, count of Auvergne, who founded the abbey of Cluny. He was succeeded in 918 by his nephew, Count William II, who died in 926. A series of dukes followed, one of whom, William IV, fought against Hugh Capet, king of France, while another, William V, known as the Great, was able to significantly strengthen and expand his power, though he failed in his attempt to claim the Lombard crown. William’s duchy nearly reached the boundaries of the Roman Aquitania Prima and Secunda, but did not extend south of the Garonne, a region held by the Gascons. William died in 1030, and the line continued with William VI (d. 1038), Odo or Eudes (d. 1039), who added Gascony to his duchy, William VII, and William VIII, leading us to William IX (d. 1127), who took over in 1087 and became notable as a crusader and troubadour. William X (d. 1137) married his daughter Eleanor to Louis VII, king of France, and Aquitaine became her dowry. When Eleanor divorced Louis and married Henry II of England in 1152, the duchy passed to her new husband, who, after quelling a revolt there, gave it to his son Richard. When Richard died in 1199, it returned to Eleanor, and upon her death five years later, became part of the English crown, thereafter following the fate of English territories in France. The Aquitaine that passed to the English kings stretched from the Loire to the Pyrenees, but was limited in the southeast by the vast lands of the counts of Toulouse. The term Guienne, a distortion of Aquitaine, seems to have come into use around the 10th century, and the later history of Aquitaine is intertwined with that of Gascony (q.v.) and Guienne (q.v.).

See E. Desjardins, Géographie historique el administrative de la Gaule romaine (Paris, 1876, 93); A. Luchaire, Les Origines linguistiques de l’Aquitaine (Paris, 1877); A. Longnon, Géographie de la Gaule au VIe siècle (Paris, 1876); A. Perroud, Les Origines du premier duché d’Aquitaine (Paris, 1881); and E. Mabille, Le Royaume d’Aquitaine et ses marches sous les Carlovingiens (Paris, 1870).

See E. Desjardins, Historical and Administrative Geography of Roman Gaul (Paris, 1876, 93); A. Luchaire, The Linguistic Origins of Aquitaine (Paris, 1877); A. Longnon, Geography of Gaul in the 6th Century (Paris, 1876); A. Perroud, The Origins of the First Duchy of Aquitaine (Paris, 1881); and E. Mabille, The Kingdom of Aquitaine and Its Marches Under the Carolingians (Paris, 1870).


ARABESQUE, a word meaning simply “Arabian,” but technically used for a certain form of decorative design in flowing lines intertwined; hence comes the more metaphorical use of this word, whether in nature or in morals, indicating a fantastic or complicated interweaving of lines against a background. In decorative design the term is historically a misnomer. It is applied to the grotesque decoration derived from Roman remains of the early time of the empire, not to any style derived from Arabian or Moorish work. Arabesque and Moresque are really distinct; the latter is from the Arabian style of ornament, developed by the Byzantine Greeks for their new masters, after the conquests of the followers of Mahomet; and the former is a term pretty well restricted to varieties of cinquecento decoration, which have nothing in common with any Arabian examples in their details, but are a development derived from Greek and Roman grotesque designs, such as we find them in the remains of ancient palaces at Rome, and in ancient houses at Pompeii. These were reproduced by Raphael and his pupils in the decoration of some of the corridors of the Loggie of the Vatican at Rome: grotesque is thus a better name for these decorations than Arabesque. This technical Arabesque, therefore, is much more ancient than any Arabian or Moorish decoration, and has really nothing in common with it except the mere symmetrical principles of its arrangement. Pliny and Vitruvius give us no name for the extravagant decorative wall-painting in vogue in their time, to which the early Italian revivers of it seem to have given the designation of grotesque, because it, was first discovered in the arched or underground chambers (grotte) of Roman ruins—as in the golden house of Nero, or the baths of Titus. What really took place in the Italian revival was in some measure a supplanting of the Arabesque for the classical grotesque, still retaining the original Arabian designation, while the genuine Arabian art, the Saracenic, was distinguished as Moresque or Moorish. So it is now the original Arabesque that is called by its specific names of Saracenic, Moorish and Alhambresque, while the term Arabesque is applied exclusively to the style developed from the debased classical grotesque of the Roman empire.

ARABESQUE, is a word that simply means “Arabian,” but it's technically used to describe a type of decorative design consisting of flowing lines that are intertwined. This gives rise to a more metaphorical interpretation of the term, whether in nature or morals, suggesting a fantastic or complex interweaving of lines against a backdrop. In decorative design, the term is historically inaccurate. It refers to grotesque decoration that originated from Roman leftovers from the early empire, not from any style associated with Arabian or Moorish influences. Arabesque and Moresque are truly different; the latter comes from the Arabian style of ornamentation, developed by the Byzantine Greeks for their new rulers after the conquests of followers of Muhammad, while the former is mostly confined to styles of Cinquecento decoration that have no connection to Arabian designs in their details. Instead, they're a development stemming from Greek and Roman grotesque designs found in the remnants of ancient palaces in Rome and ancient houses in Pompeii. These designs were replicated by Raphael and his students in the decoration of some corridors of the Loggie of the Vatican in Rome. Therefore, the term grotesque is a more accurate description for these decorations than Arabesque. This technical Arabesque is actually much older than any Arabian or Moorish decoration and shares little in common with it aside from basic symmetrical principles of arrangement. Pliny and Vitruvius did not provide a name for the extravagant decorative wall-painting popular in their time, which early Italian revivers seem to have labeled grotesque because it was first found in the arched or underground chambers (grotte) of Roman ruins—like Nero’s golden house or the baths of Titus. What essentially happened during the Italian revival was a sort of replacement of Arabesque for the classical grotesque, while still keeping the original Arabian name, while true Arabian art, the Saracenic style, was identified as Moresque or Moorish. Today, the original Arabesque is referred to using specific terms like Saracenic, Moorish, and Alhambresque, while the term Arabesque is exclusively associated with the style that evolved from the degraded classical grotesque of the Roman Empire.

There is still much of the genuine Saracenic element in Renaissance Arabesques, especially in that selected for book-borders and for silver-work, the details of which consist largely of the conventional Saracenic foliations. But the Arabesque developed in the Italian cinquecento work repudiated all the original Arabian elements and devices, and limited itself to the manipulating of the classical elements, of which the most prominent feature is ever the floriated or foliated scroll; and it is in this cinquecento decoration, whether in sculpture or in painting, that Arabesque has been perfected.

There is still a lot of the authentic Saracenic style in Renaissance Arabesques, especially in those chosen for book borders and for silverwork, which largely consist of traditional Saracenic leaf patterns. However, the Arabesque that developed in Italian cinquecento art discarded all the original Arabian elements and designs, focusing instead on manipulating classical elements, with the most notable feature being the floral or leaf scroll. It is in this cinquecento decoration, whether in sculpture or painting, that Arabesque has been refined.

In the Saracenic, as the elder sister of the two styles, which was ingeniously developed by the Byzantine Greek artists for their Arabian masters in the early times of Mahommedan conquest, every natural object was proscribed; the artists were, therefore, reduced to making symmetrical designs from forms which should have no positive meaning; yet the Byzantine Greeks, who were Christians, managed to work even their own ecclesiastical symbols, in a disguised manner, into their tracery and diapers; as the lily, for instance. The cross was not so introduced; this, of course, was inadmissible; but neither was the crescent ever introduced into any of this early work in Damascus or Cairo. The crescent was itself not a Mahommedan device till after the conquest of Constantinople in 1453 A.D. The crescent, as the new moon, was the symbol of Byzantium; and it was only after that capital of the Eastern empire fell into the hands of the Turks that this symbol was adopted by them. The crescent and the cross became antagonist standards, therefore, first in the 15th century. And the crescent is not an element of original Moorish decoration.

In the Saracenic style, being the older sister of the two styles, which was cleverly developed by Byzantine Greek artists for their Arabian patrons during the early days of the Muslim conquests, every natural object was banned. As a result, the artists had to create symmetrical designs from forms that held no specific meaning. However, the Byzantine Greeks, who were Christians, managed to subtly incorporate their own religious symbols, like the lily, into their decorative patterns. The cross was not included in this way because it was unacceptable, but neither was the crescent featured in any of the early works in Damascus or Cairo. The crescent itself didn’t become a Muslim symbol until after the fall of Constantinople in 1453 A.D. The crescent, representing the new moon, was originally a symbol of Byzantium. It was only after that Eastern Empire capital fell into Turkish hands that this symbol was adopted. Hence, the crescent and the cross became opposing symbols starting in the 15th century. Additionally, the crescent is not a part of original Moorish decoration.

The Alhambra diapers and original Majolica (Majorca) ware afford admirable specimens of genuine Saracenic or Moorish decoration. A conventional floriage is common in these diapers; tracery also is a great feature in this work, in geometrical combinations, whether rectilinear or curvilinear; and the designs are rich in colour; idolatry was in the reproduction of natural forms, not in the fanciful combination of natural colours. These curves and angles, therefore, or interlacings, chiefly in stucco, constitute the prominent elements of an Arabian ornamental design, combining also Arabic inscriptions; composed of a mass of foliation or floral forms conventionally disguised, as the exclusion of all natural images was the fundamental principle of the style in its purity. The Alhambra displays almost endless specimens of this peculiar work, all in relief, highly coloured, and profusely enriched with gold. The mosque of Tulun, in Cairo, A.D. 876, the known work of a Greek, affords the completest example of this art in its early time; and Sicily contains many remains of this same exquisite Saracenic decoration.

The Alhambra tiles and original Majolica (Majorca) pottery showcase stunning examples of true Saracenic or Moorish decoration. These tiles often feature conventional floral patterns, and intricate tracery is a significant aspect of the artwork, whether in straight lines or curves. The designs are vibrant in color; their focus was on replicating natural forms, rather than whimsical mixes of natural colors. Thus, these curves, angles, and interwoven elements, mostly in stucco, are key parts of Arabian decorative design, which also includes Arabic inscriptions; they are made up of a multitude of floral patterns that are stylized, as avoiding all natural images was the essential principle of the style in its purest form. The Alhambra offers nearly infinite examples of this distinctive work, all raised, vividly colored, and lavishly adorned with gold. The mosque of Tulun, in Cairo, CE 876, a well-known creation by a Greek, provides the most complete example of this art from its early period; and Sicily is home to many remnants of this same exquisite Saracenic decoration.

Such is the genuine Arabesque of the Arabs, but a very different style of design is implied by the Arabesque of the cinquecento, a purely classical ornamentation. This owes its origin to the excavation and recovery of ancient monuments, and was developed chiefly by the sculptors of the north, and the painters of central Italy; by the Lombardi of Venice, by Agostino Busti of Milan, by Bramante of Urbino, by Raphael, by Giulio Romano, and others of nearly equal merit. Very beautiful examples in sculpture of this cinquecento Arabesque are found in the churches of Venice, Verona and Brescia; in painting, the most complete specimens are those of the Vatican Loggie, and the Villa Madama at Rome and the ducal palaces at Mantua. The Vatican Arabesques, chiefly executed for Raphael by Giulio Romano, Gian Francesco Penni, and Giovanni da Udine, though beautiful as works of painting, are often very extravagant in their composition, ludicrous and sometimes aesthetically offensive; as are also many of the decorations of Pompeii. The main features of these designs are balanced scrolls in panels; or standards variously composed, but symmetrically scrolled on either side, and on the tendrils of these scrolls are suspended or placed birds and animals, human figures and chimeras, of any or all kinds, or indeed any objects that may take the fancy of the artist. The most perfect specimens of cinquecento Arabesque are certainly found in sculpture. As specimens of exquisite work may be mentioned the Martinengo tomb, in the church of the Padri Riformati at Brescia, and the façade of the church of Santa Maria del Miracoli there, by the Lombardi; and many of the carvings of the Château de Gaillon, France—all of which fairly illustrate the beauties and capabilities of the style.

Such is the true Arabesque of the Arabs, but a very different design style is represented by the Arabesque of the cinquecento, which is purely classical ornamentation. This originated from the excavation and recovery of ancient monuments and was mainly developed by the northern sculptors and central Italian painters; by the Lombardi of Venice, Agostino Busti of Milan, Bramante of Urbino, Raphael, Giulio Romano, and others of similar talent. Beautiful examples of this cinquecento Arabesque in sculpture can be found in the churches of Venice, Verona, and Brescia; in painting, the most complete examples are those in the Vatican Loggie, Villa Madama in Rome, and the ducal palaces in Mantua. The Vatican Arabesques, mainly created for Raphael by Giulio Romano, Gian Francesco Penni, and Giovanni da Udine, are beautiful as paintings but often very extravagant in composition, sometimes ludicrous and aesthetically unpleasant; similar to many decorations found in Pompeii. The main features of these designs include balanced scrolls in panels or standards arranged symmetrically on either side, and on the tendrils of these scrolls are placed or suspended birds, animals, human figures, and chimeras of any kind, or really any objects the artist may choose. The most perfect examples of cinquecento Arabesque are definitely found in sculpture. Notable exquisite works include the Martinengo tomb in the church of the Padri Riformati at Brescia, and the façade of the church of Santa Maria del Miracoli there by the Lombardi, along with many of the carvings from the Château de Gaillon in France—all of which beautifully illustrate the style's excellence and possibilities.

See also Wornum, Analysis of Ornament (1874).

See also Wornum, Analysis of Ornament (1874).

(R. N. W.)

ARABGIR, or Arabkir (Byz. Arabraces), a town of Turkey in Asia in the Mamuret el-Aziz or Kharput vilayet, situated near the confluence of the eastern and western Euphrates, but some miles from the right bank of the combined streams. Pop. about 20,000, of which the larger half is Mussulman. It is connected with Sivas by a chaussée, prolonged to the Euphrates. The inhabitants are enterprising and prosperous, many of them leaving their native city to push their fortunes elsewhere, while of those that remain the greater part is employed in the manufacture of silk and cotton goods, or in the production of fruit. The present town was built at a comparatively recent date; but about 2 m. north-east is the old town, now called Eski-Shehr, given (c. 1021) to Senekherim of Armenia by the emperor Basil II. It contains the ruins of a castle and of several Seljuk mosques. The Armenian population suffered severely during the massacres of 1895.

ARABGIR, or Arabkir (Byz. Arabraces), a town in Turkey located in Asia in the Mamuret el-Aziz or Kharput province, is situated near where the eastern and western Euphrates rivers meet, though a few miles away from the right bank of the combined streams. The population is around 20,000, with the larger half being Muslim. It is linked to Sivas by a well-maintained road that extends to the Euphrates. The residents are resourceful and thriving, with many leaving their hometown to seek opportunities elsewhere, while those who remain primarily work in the production of silk and cotton goods, or in agriculture, particularly fruit cultivation. The current town was established relatively recently; however, about 2 miles to the northeast lies the old town, now called Eski-Shehr, which was given (around 1021) to Senekherim of Armenia by Emperor Basil II. It features the ruins of a castle and several Seljuk mosques. The Armenian community faced significant hardships during the massacres of 1895.

(D. G. H.)

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ARABIA, a peninsula in the south-west of Asia, lying between 34º 30′ and 12º 45′ N., and 32º 30′ and 60º E., is bounded W. by the Red Sea, S. by the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean, and E. by the Gulf of Oman and the Persian Gulf. Its northern or land boundary is more difficult to define; most authorities, however, agree in taking it from El Arish on the Mediterranean, along the southern border of Palestine, between the Dead Sea and the Gulf of Akaba, then bending northwards along the Syrian border nearly to Tadmur, thence eastwards to the edge of the Euphrates valley near Anah, and thence south-east to the mouth of the Shat el Arab at the head of the Persian Gulf,—the boundary so defined includes the northern desert, which belongs geographically to Arabia rather than to Syria; while on the same grounds lower Mesopotamia and Irak, although occupied by an Arab population, are excluded.

ARABIA, is a peninsula in the southwest of Asia, located between 34º 30′ and 12º 45′ N, and 32º 30′ and 60º E. It is bordered to the west by the Red Sea, to the south by the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean, and to the east by the Gulf of Oman and the Persian Gulf. Defining its northern land boundary is more challenging; however, most experts agree it starts at El Arish on the Mediterranean, goes along the southern edge of Palestine, between the Dead Sea and the Gulf of Aqaba, then curves north along the Syrian border almost to Tadmur, then heads east to the edge of the Euphrates valley near Anah, and finally southeast to the mouth of the Shat el Arab at the head of the Persian Gulf. This boundary includes the northern desert, which is geographically part of Arabia rather than Syria; for the same reason, lower Mesopotamia and Iraq, despite having an Arab population, are excluded.

In shape, the peninsula forms a rough trapezium, with its greatest length from north-west to south-east. The length of its western side from Port Said to Aden is 1500 m.; its base from the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb (or Bab al Mandab) to Ras el Had is 1300 m., its northern side from Port Said to the Euphrates 600 m.; its total area approximately 1,200,000 sq. m.

In shape, the peninsula looks like a rough trapezoid, with its longest stretch running from the northwest to the southeast. The length of its western side from Port Said to Aden is 1,500 miles; its base from the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb (or Bab al Mandab) to Ras el Had is 1,300 miles, and its northern side from Port Said to the Euphrates is 600 miles; its total area is about 1,200,000 square miles.

Geography

Geography

General Features.—In general terms Arabia may be described as a plateau sloping gently from south-west to north-east, and attaining its greatest elevation in the extreme south-west. The western escarpment of the plateau rises steeply from the Red Sea littoral to a height of from 4000 to 8000 ft., leaving a narrow belt of lowland rarely exceeding 30 m. in width between the shore and the foot-hills. On the north-east and east the plateau shelves gradually to the Euphrates and the Persian Gulf; only in the extreme east is this general easterly slope arrested by the lofty range of Jebel Akhdar, which from Ras Musandan to Ras el Had borders the coast of Oman.

General Features.—Generally speaking, Arabia can be described as a plateau that gently slopes from the southwest to the northeast, reaching its highest point in the far southwest. The western edge of the plateau rises steeply from the Red Sea coast to heights between 4,000 and 8,000 feet, leaving a narrow strip of lowland that rarely exceeds 30 meters in width between the shoreline and the foothills. To the northeast and east, the plateau gradually descends towards the Euphrates and the Persian Gulf; only in the far east does this overall eastern slope end with the towering Jebel Akhdar mountain range, which runs along the coast of Oman from Ras Musandan to Ras el Had.

Its chief characteristic is the bareness and aridity of its surface; one-third of the whole desert, and of the remainder only a small proportion is suited to settled life, owing to its scanty water-supply and uncertain rainfall. Its mountains are insufficient in elevation and extent to attract their full share of the monsoon rains, which fall so abundantly on the Abyssinian highlands on the other side of the Red Sea; for this reason Arabia has neither lakes nor forests to control the water-supply and prevent its too rapid dissipation, and the rivers are mere torrent beds sweeping down occasionally in heavy floods, but otherwise dry.

Its main feature is the bare and dry nature of its surface; one-third of the entire desert, and of the rest, only a small part can support permanent settlement due to its limited water supply and unpredictable rainfall. Its mountains are not high or extensive enough to capture their fair share of the monsoon rains, which fall abundantly on the Abyssinian highlands across the Red Sea; for this reason, Arabia has no lakes or forests to help manage the water supply and prevent it from disappearing too quickly, and the rivers are just dry beds that occasionally fill with heavy floods but are mostly dry.

The country falls naturally into three main divisions, a northern, a central and a southern; the first includes the area between the Midian coast on the west and the head of the Persian Gulf on the east, a desert tract throughout, stony in the north, sandy in the south, but furnishing at certain seasons excellent pasturage; its population is almost entirely nomad and pastoral. The central zone includes Hejaz (or Hijaz), Nejd and El Hasa; much of it is a dry, stony or sandy steppe, with few wells or watering-places, and only occupied by nomad tribes; but the great wadis which intersect it contain many fertile stretches of alluvial soil, where cultivation is possible and which support a considerable settled population, with several large towns and numerous villages.

The country is naturally divided into three main regions: northern, central, and southern. The northern region includes the area between the Midian coast on the west and the head of the Persian Gulf on the east. It's mostly desert, rocky in the north and sandy in the south, but it provides excellent grazing at certain times of the year. The population here is mostly made up of nomadic herders. The central region includes Hejaz (or Hijaz), Nejd, and El Hasa. Much of this area is a dry, stony, or sandy plain with few wells or water sources, inhabited mainly by nomadic tribes. However, the large valleys that cut through it have many fertile patches of alluvial soil where farming is possible, supporting a sizable settled population, along with several large towns and many villages.

The third or southern division contains the highland plateaus of Asir and Yemen in the west, and J. Akhdar in the east, which with a temperate climate, due to their great elevation and their proximity to the sea, deserve, if any part of Arabia does, the name of Arabia Felix—the population is settled and agricultural, and the soil, wherever the rainfall is sufficient, is productive. The Batina coast of Oman, irrigated by the mountain streams of J. Akhdar, is perhaps the most fertile district in the peninsula; Hadramut, too, contains many large and prosperous villages, and the torrents from the Yemen highlands fertilize several oases in the Tehama (or Tihama) or lowlands of the western and southern coast. These favourable conditions of soil and climate, however, extend only a comparatively short distance into the interior, by far the larger part of which is covered by the great southern desert, the Dahna, or Ruba el Khali, empty as its name implies, and uninhabitable.

The third or southern division includes the highland plateaus of Asir and Yemen in the west, and J. Akhdar in the east, which, due to their high elevation and closeness to the sea, have a temperate climate that deserves the title of Arabia Felix, if any part of Arabia does. The population here is settled and agricultural, and the soil is productive wherever there is enough rainfall. The Batina coast of Oman, fed by the mountain streams of J. Akhdar, is probably the most fertile area in the peninsula. Hadramut also has many large and thriving villages, and the streams from the Yemen highlands nourish several oases in the Tehama (or Tihama) lowlands along the western and southern coast. However, these favorable soil and climate conditions only stretch a short distance into the interior, most of which is covered by the vast southern desert, the Dahna, or Ruba el Khali, which is empty, as its name suggests, and uninhabitable.

Exploration.—Before entering on a detailed description of the several provinces of Arabia, our sources of information will be briefly indicated. Except in the neighbourhood of Aden, no regular surveys exist, and professional work is limited to the marine surveys of the Indian government and the admiralty, which, while laying down the coast line with fair accuracy, give little or no topographical information inland. For the mapping of the whole vast interior, except in rare cases, no data exist beyond the itineraries of explorers, travelling as a rule under conditions which precluded the use of even the simplest surveying instruments. These journeys, naturally following the most frequented routes, often cover the same ground, while immense tracts, owing to their difficulty of access, remain unvisited by any European.

Exploration.—Before diving into a detailed description of the various provinces of Arabia, we will briefly outline our sources of information. Aside from the area around Aden, there are no comprehensive surveys available, and professional work is mostly limited to the marine surveys conducted by the Indian government and the admiralty. While these surveys accurately outline the coastline, they provide little to no topographical details for the inland regions. For mapping the vast interior, there is generally no data available except for the travel itineraries of explorers, who usually navigate under conditions that prevent them from using even the simplest surveying tools. These journeys tend to follow the most common routes, often covering the same areas, while large expanses of land, due to their difficult access, remain unvisited by any Europeans.

The region most thoroughly explored is Yemen, in the south-west corner of the peninsula, where the labours of a succession of travellers from Niebuhr in 1761 to E. Glaser and R. Manzoni in 1887 have led to a fairly complete knowledge of all that part of the province west of the capital Sana; while in 1902-1904 the operations of the Anglo-Turkish boundary commission permitted the execution of a systematic topographical survey of the British protectorate from the Red Sea to the Wadi Bana, 30 m. east of Aden. North of Yemen up to the Hejaz border the only authority is that of E.F. Jomard’s map, published in 1839, based on the information given by the French officers employed with Ibrahim Pasha’s army in Asir from 1824 to 1827, and of J. Halévy in Nejran. On the south coast expeditions have penetrated but a short distance, the most notable exceptions being those of L. Hirsch and J.T. Bent in 1887 to the Hadramut valley. S.B. Miles, J.R. Wellsted, and S.M. Zwemer have explored Oman in the extreme east; but the interior south of a line drawn from Taif to El Katr on the Persian Gulf is still virgin ground. In northern Arabia the Syrian desert and the great Nafud (Nefud) have been crossed by several travellers, though a large area remains unexplored in the north-east between Kasim and the gulf. In the centre, the journeys of W. Palgrave, C. Doughty, W. Blunt and C. Huber have done much to elucidate the main physical features of the country. Lastly, in the north-west the Sinai peninsula has been thoroughly explored, and the list of travellers who have visited the Holy Cities and traversed the main pilgrim routes through Hejaz is a fairly long one, though, owing to the difficulties peculiar to that region, the hydrography of southern Hejaz is still incompletely known.

The region that has been most extensively explored is Yemen, located in the southwest corner of the peninsula. The efforts of various travelers from Niebuhr in 1761 to E. Glaser and R. Manzoni in 1887 have resulted in a good understanding of the area west of the capital, Sana. Between 1902 and 1904, the work of the Anglo-Turkish boundary commission enabled a systematic topographical survey of the British protectorate from the Red Sea to Wadi Bana, which is 30 miles east of Aden. North of Yemen, up to the Hejaz border, the only reference is E.F. Jomard’s map published in 1839, which was based on information provided by the French officers who served with Ibrahim Pasha’s army in Asir from 1824 to 1827, as well as J. Halévy's work in Nejran. Along the south coast, expeditions have advanced only a short distance, with the most notable exceptions being the explorations by L. Hirsch and J.T. Bent in 1887 to the Hadramut valley. S.B. Miles, J.R. Wellsted, and S.M. Zwemer have explored Oman in the far east; however, the interior south of a line drawn from Taif to El Katr on the Persian Gulf remains largely uncharted. In northern Arabia, several travelers have crossed the Syrian desert and the great Nafud (Nefud), although a large area in the northeast between Kasim and the gulf is still unexplored. In the center, the journeys of W. Palgrave, C. Doughty, W. Blunt, and C. Huber have greatly contributed to our understanding of the main physical features of the region. Finally, in the northwest, the Sinai peninsula has been thoroughly explored, and the list of travelers who have visited the Holy Cities and traveled the main pilgrimage routes through Hejaz is quite long, though due to the unique challenges of the area, the hydrography of southern Hejaz is still not fully understood.

The story of modern exploration begins with the despatch of C. Niebuhr’s mission by the Danish government in 1761. After a year spent in Egypt and the Sinai peninsula the party reached Jidda towards the end of 1762, and Modern Exploration in Yemen. after a short stay sailed on to Lohaia in the north of Yemen, the exploration of which formed the principal object of the expedition; thence, travelling through the Tehama or lowlands, Niebuhr and his companions visited the towns of Bet el Fakih, Zubed and Mokha, then the great port for the coffee trade of Yemen. Continuing eastward they crossed the mountainous region and reached the highlands of Yemen at Uden, a small town and the centre of a district celebrated for its coffee. Thence proceeding eastwards to higher altitudes where coffee plantations give way to fields of wheat and barley, they reached the town of Jibla situated among a group of mountains exceeding 10,000 ft. above sea-level; and turning southwards to Taiz descended again to the Tehama via Hes and Zubed to Mokha. The mission, reduced in numbers by the death of its archaeologist, von Haven, again visited Taiz in June 1763, where after some delay permission was obtained to visit Sana, the capital of the province and the residence of the ruling sovereign or imam. The route lay by Jibla, passing the foot of the lofty Jebel Sorak, where, in spite of illness, Forskal, the botanist of the party, was able to make a last excursion; a few days later he died at Yarim. The mission continued its march, passing Dhamar, the seat of a university of the Zedi sect, then frequented by 500 students. Thence four marches, generally over a stony plateau dominated by bare, sterile mountains, brought them to 255 Sana, where they received a cordial welcome from the imam, el Mahdi Abbas.

The story of modern exploration starts with C. Niebuhr’s mission commissioned by the Danish government in 1761. After spending a year in Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula, the group reached Jidda towards the end of 1762, and Exploring Yemen Today. after a brief stay, they sailed on to Lohaia in northern Yemen, which was the main focus of the expedition. From there, traveling through the Tehama lowlands, Niebuhr and his team visited the towns of Bet el Fakih, Zubed, and Mokha, then the major port for Yemen's coffee trade. As they continued east, they crossed the mountainous region and arrived in the highlands of Yemen at Uden, a small town known for its coffee. They then headed east to higher altitudes where coffee plantations gave way to fields of wheat and barley, reaching the town of Jibla set among mountains over 10,000 feet high; turning south to Taiz, they descended back to the Tehama via Hes and Zubed to Mokha. The mission, which had fewer members due to the death of their archaeologist, von Haven, visited Taiz again in June 1763, where after some delays, they received permission to visit Sana, the province's capital and the residence of the ruling sovereign or imam. The route went through Jibla, passing by the foot of the towering Jebel Sorak, where, despite being ill, Forskal, the party's botanist, managed one last excursion; a few days later, he died at Yarim. The mission continued onward, passing Dhamar, home to a university of the Zedi sect, which at that time had around 500 students. Four more marches, mostly over a rocky plateau overshadowed by barren, sterile mountains, brought them to 255 Sana, where they received a warm welcome from the imam, el Mahdi Abbas.

The aspect of the city must have been nearly the same as at present; Niebuhr describes the enceinte flanked by towers, the citadel at the foot of J. Nukum which rises 1000 ft. above the valley, the fortress and palace of the imams, now replaced by the Turkish military hospital, the suburb of Bir el Azab with its scattered houses and gardens, the Jews’ quarter and the village of Rauda, a few miles to the north in a fertile, irrigated plain which Niebuhr compares to that of Damascus. After a stay of ten days at Sana the mission set out again for Mokha, travelling by what is now the main route from the capital to Hodeda, through the rich coffee-bearing district of J. Haraz, and thence southward to Mokha, where they embarked for India. During the next year three other members of the party died, leaving Niebuhr the sole survivor. Returning to Arabia a year later, he visited Oman and the shores of the Persian Gulf, and travelling from Basra through Syria and Palestine he reached Denmark in 1764 after four years’ absence.

The city must have looked almost the same as it does today; Niebuhr describes the walls flanked by towers, the citadel at the base of J. Nukum rising 1,000 feet above the valley, the fortress and palace of the imams, which are now the Turkish military hospital, the suburb of Bir el Azab with its scattered houses and gardens, the Jewish quarter, and the village of Rauda, a few miles north in a fertile, irrigated plain that Niebuhr compares to the one in Damascus. After spending ten days in Sana, the mission set out again for Mokha, taking what is now the main route from the capital to Hodeda, through the rich coffee-growing area of J. Haraz, and then south to Mokha, where they boarded a ship for India. Over the next year, three other members of the party passed away, leaving Niebuhr as the only survivor. Returning to Arabia a year later, he visited Oman and the shores of the Persian Gulf, and traveled from Basra through Syria and Palestine before reaching Denmark in 1764 after being away for four years.

The period was perhaps specially favourable for a scientific mission of the sort. The outburst of fanaticism which convulsed Arabia twenty years later had not then reached Yemen, and Europeans, as such, were not exposed to any special danger. The travellers were thus able to move freely and to pursue their scientific enquiries without hindrance from either people or ruler. The results published in 1772 gave for the first time a comprehensive description not only of Yemen but of all Arabia; while the parts actually visited by Niebuhr were described with a fulness and accuracy of detail which left little or nothing for his successors to discover.

The time was particularly favorable for a scientific mission like this. The wave of fanaticism that shook Arabia twenty years later hadn’t yet reached Yemen, and Europeans weren’t at any particular risk. The travelers could move freely and conduct their scientific research without interference from locals or leaders. The results published in 1772 provided a detailed account not just of Yemen but of all of Arabia for the first time; the areas that Niebuhr actually visited were described with such thoroughness and precision that there was little left for future explorers to uncover.

C.G. Ehrenberg and W.F. Hemprich in 1825 visited the Tehama and the islands off the coast, and in 1836 P.E. Botta made an important journey in southern Yemen with a view to botanical research, but the next advance Asir. in geographical knowledge in south Arabia was due to the French officers, M.O. Tamisier, Chedufau and Mary, belonging to the Egyptian army in Asir; another Frenchman, L. Arnaud, formerly in the Egyptian service, was the first to visit the southern Jauf and to report on the rock-cut inscriptions and ruins of Marib, though it was not till 1869 that a competent Jauf and Marib. archaeologist, J. Halévy, was able to carry out any complete exploration there. Starting from Sana, Halévy went north-eastward to El Madid, a town of 5000 inhabitants and the capital of the small district of Nihm; thence crossing a plateau, where he saw the ruins of numerous crenellated towers, he reached the village of Mijzar at the foot of J. Yam, on the borders of Jauf, a vast sandy plain, extending eastwards to El Jail and El Hazm, where Halévy made his most important discoveries of Sabaean inscriptions: here he explored Main, the ancient capital of the Minaeans, Kamna on the banks of the W. Kharid, the ancient Caminacum, and Kharibat el Beda, the Nesca of Pliny, where the Sabaean army was defeated by the Romans under Aelius Gallus in 24 B.C. From El Jail Halévy travelled northward, passing the oasis of Khab, and skirting the great desert, reached the fertile district of Nejran, where he found a colony of Jews, with whom he spent several weeks in the oasis of Makhlaf. An hour’s march to the east he discovered at the village of Medinat el Mahud the ruins of the Nagra metropolis of Ptolemy. In June 1870 he at last reached the goal of his journey, Marib; here he explored the ruins of Medinat an Nahas (so called from its numerous inscriptions engraved on brass plates), and two hours to the east he found the famous dam constructed by the Himyarites across the W. Shibwan, on which the water-supply of their capital depended.

C.G. Ehrenberg and W.F. Hemprich visited the Tehama and the islands off the coast in 1825, and in 1836, P.E. Botta made an important journey in southern Yemen for botanical research. However, the next significant advancements in geographical knowledge of south Arabia came from the French officers M.O. Tamisier, Chedufau, and Mary, who were part of the Egyptian army in Asir. Another Frenchman, L. Arnaud, who had previously served in the Egyptian army, was the first to visit southern Jauf and report on the rock-cut inscriptions and ruins of Marib. It wasn't until 1869 that a skilled archaeologist, J. Halévy, was able to conduct a complete exploration there. Starting from Sana, Halévy traveled northeast to El Madid, a town with 5,000 residents and the capital of the small district of Nihm. From there, he crossed a plateau dotted with the ruins of numerous crenellated towers and reached the village of Mijzar at the foot of J. Yam, on the borders of Jauf, a vast sandy plain stretching east to El Jail and El Hazm, where Halévy made his most significant discoveries of Sabaean inscriptions. He explored Main, the ancient capital of the Minaeans, Kamna by the banks of the W. Kharid, the ancient Caminacum, and Kharibat el Beda, known as the Nesca of Pliny, where the Sabaean army was defeated by the Romans under Aelius Gallus in 24 B.C. From El Jail, Halévy traveled northward, passing the oasis of Khab and skirting the great desert, reaching the fertile district of Nejran, where he encountered a Jewish colony and spent several weeks in the oasis of Makhlaf. An hour’s march to the east, he discovered the ruins of the Nagra metropolis of Ptolemy in the village of Medinat el Mahud. In June 1870, he finally reached the destination of his journey, Marib. There, he explored the ruins of Medinat an Nahas (named for its many inscriptions on brass plates), and two hours to the east, he found the famous dam built by the Himyarites across the W. Shibwan, which was crucial for the water supply of their capital.

One other explorer has since visited Marib, the Austrian archaeologist, E. Glaser (1855-1908), who achieved more for science in Yemen than any traveller since Niebuhr. Under Turkish protection, he visited the territory of the Hashid and Bakil tribes north-east of Sana, and though their hostile attitude compelled him to return after reaching their first important town, Khamr, he had time to reconnoitre the plateau lying between the two great wadis Kharid and Hirran, formerly covered with Himyaritic towns and villages; and to trace the course of these wadis to their junction at El Ish in the Dhu Husen country, and thence onward to the Jauf. In 1889 he succeeded, again under Turkish escort, in reaching Marib, where he obtained, during a stay of thirty days, a large number of new Himyaritic inscriptions. He was unable, however, to proceed farther east than his predecessors, and the problem of the Jauf drainage and its possible connexion with the upper part of the Hadramut valley still remains unsolved.

One other explorer has since visited Marib, the Austrian archaeologist E. Glaser (1855-1908), who accomplished more for science in Yemen than any traveler since Niebuhr. Under Turkish protection, he explored the territory of the Hashid and Bakil tribes northeast of Sana, and although their hostile attitude forced him to turn back after reaching their first significant town, Khamr, he managed to survey the plateau between the two major wadis, Kharid and Hirran, which was once filled with Himyaritic towns and villages. He traced the courses of these wadis to their junction at El Ish in the Dhu Husen area and then onward to the Jauf. In 1889, he was able, once again with Turkish escort, to reach Marib, where he spent thirty days and collected a significant number of new Himyaritic inscriptions. However, he was unable to go farther east than his predecessors, leaving the issue of Jauf drainage and its possible connection with the upper part of the Hadramut valley unresolved.

The earliest attempt to penetrate into the interior from the south coast was made in 1835 when Lieuts. C. Cruttenden and J.R. Wellsted of the “Palinurus,” employed on the marine survey of the Arabian coast, visited the ruins Exploration in Hadramut. of Nakb (el Hajar) in the W. Mefat. The Himyaritic inscriptions found there and at Husn Ghurab near Mukalla, were the first records discovered of ancient Arabian civilization in Hadramut. Neither of these officers was able to follow up their discoveries, but in 1843 Adolph von Wrede landed at Mukalla and, adopting the character of a pilgrim to the shrine of the prophet Hud, made his way northward across the high plateau into the W. Duwan, one of the main southern tributaries of the Hadramut valley, and pushed on to the edge of the great southern desert; on his return to the W. Duwan his disguise was detected and he was obliged to return to Mukalla. Though he did not actually enter the main Hadramut valley, which lay to the east of his track, his journey established the existence of this populous and fertile district which had been reported to the officers of the “Palinurus” as lying between the coast range and the great desert to the north. This was at last visited in 1893 by L. Hirsch under the protection of the sultan of Mukalla, the head of the Kaiti family, and practically ruler of all Hadramut, with the exception of the towns of Saiyun and Tarim, which belong to the Kathiri tribe. Starting like von Wrede from Mukalla, Hirsch first visited the W. Duwan and found ancient ruins and inscriptions near the village of Hajren; thence he proceeded north-eastward to Hauta in the main valley, where he was hospitably received by the Kaiti sultan, and sent on to his deputy at Shibam. Here he procured a Kathiri escort and pushed on through Saiyun to Tarim, the former capital. After a very brief stay, however, he was compelled by the hostility of the people to return in haste to Shibam, from which he travelled by the W. bin Ali and W. Adim back to Mukalla. J. Theodore Bent and his wife followed in the same track a few months later with a well-equipped party including a surveyor, Imam Sharif, lent by the Indian government, who made a very valuable survey of the country passed through. Both parties visited many sites where Himyaritic remains and inscriptions were found, but the hostile attitude of the natives, more particularly of the Seyyids, the religious hierarchy of Hadramut, prevented any adequate examination, and much of archaeological interest undoubtedly remains for future travellers to discover.

The first attempt to explore the interior from the south coast happened in 1835 when Lieutenants C. Cruttenden and J.R. Wellsted from the "Palinurus," which was engaged in a marine survey of the Arabian coast, checked out the ruins of Nakb (el Hajar) in the W. Mefat. The Himyaritic inscriptions they found there and at Husn Ghurab near Mukalla were the first records discovered of ancient Arabian civilization in Hadramut. Neither of these officers could follow up on their discoveries, but in 1843, Adolph von Wrede landed in Mukalla, posing as a pilgrim headed to the shrine of the prophet Hud. He traveled northward across the high plateau into the W. Duwan, a major southern tributary of the Hadramut valley, and continued to the edge of the vast southern desert. On his way back to the W. Duwan, he was recognized, and he had to return to Mukalla. Although he didn't actually enter the main Hadramut valley located to the east of his route, his journey confirmed the existence of this populous and fertile area, which had been reported to the "Palinurus" officers as lying between the coastal range and the massive desert to the north. Eventually, in 1893, L. Hirsch visited with the protection of the sultan of Mukalla, the leader of the Kaiti family, who was essentially the ruler of all Hadramut, except for the towns of Saiyun and Tarim, which belonged to the Kathiri tribe. Like von Wrede, Hirsch started from Mukalla, first visiting the W. Duwan and discovering ancient ruins and inscriptions near the village of Hajren. He then proceeded northeast to Hauta in the main valley, where the Kaiti sultan warmly welcomed him and sent him on to his deputy at Shibam. Here, he secured a Kathiri escort and traveled through Saiyun to Tarim, the old capital. However, after a very short stay, he was forced by the locals' hostility to return quickly to Shibam, from where he traveled back to Mukalla via the W. bin Ali and W. Adim. A few months later, J. Theodore Bent and his wife followed the same route with a well-equipped team that included a surveyor, Imam Sharif, provided by the Indian government, who conducted a valuable survey of the area they traveled through. Both groups visited numerous sites where Himyaritic remains and inscriptions were discovered, but the unfriendly attitude of the locals, particularly the Seyyids, the religious leaders of Hadramut, hindered any thorough exploration, leaving much of archaeological interest for future travelers to uncover.

In Oman, where the conditions are more favourable, explorers have penetrated only a short distance from the coast. Niebuhr did not go inland from Muscat; the operations by a British Indian force on the Pirate coast in 1810 gave Exploration in Oman. no opportunities for visiting the interior, and it was not till 1835 that J.R. Wellsted, who had already tried to penetrate into Hadramut from the south, landed at Muscat with the idea of reaching it from the north-east. Sailing thence to Sur near Ras el Had, he travelled southward through the country of the Bani bu Ali to the borders of the desert, then turning north-west up the Wadi Betha through a fertile, well-watered country, running up to the southern slopes of J. Akhdar, inhabited by a friendly people who seem to have welcomed him everywhere, he visited Ibra, Semed and Nizwa at the southern foot of the mountains. Owing to the disturbed state of the country, due to the presence of raiding parties from Nejd, Wellsted was unable to carry out his original intention of exploring the country to the west, and after an excursion along the Batina coast to Sohar he returned to India.

In Oman, where the conditions are more favorable, explorers have only ventured a short distance from the coast. Niebuhr didn't go inland from Muscat; the operations by a British Indian force along the Pirate coast in 1810 didn't provide any chances to visit the interior, and it wasn't until 1835 that J.R. Wellsted, who had already attempted to enter Hadramut from the south, landed in Muscat with plans to approach from the northeast. From there, he sailed to Sur near Ras el Had and traveled south through the land of the Bani bu Ali to the edge of the desert. Then, turning northwest up the Wadi Betha through a fertile, well-watered area that extends to the southern slopes of J. Akhdar—home to a friendly people who seemed to welcome him everywhere—he visited Ibra, Semed, and Nizwa at the southern base of the mountains. Due to the unsettled conditions in the region, caused by raiding parties from Nejd, Wellsted couldn't fulfill his original goal of exploring westward. After an excursion along the Batina coast to Sohar, he returned to India.

In 1876 Colonel S.B. Miles, who had already done much to 256 advance geographical interests in south Arabia, continued Wellsted’s work in Oman; starting from Sohar on the Batina coast he crossed the dividing range into the Dhahira, and reached Birema, one of its principal oases. His investigations show that the Dhahira contains many settlements, with an industrious agricultural population, and that the unexplored tract extending 250 m. west to the peninsula of El Katr is a desolate gravelly steppe, shelving gradually down to the salt marshes which border the shores of the gulf.

In 1876, Colonel S.B. Miles, who had already contributed significantly to advancing geographical interests in southern Arabia, continued Wellsted’s work in Oman. Starting from Sohar on the Batina coast, he crossed the mountain range into the Dhahira and reached Birema, one of its main oases. His research indicated that the Dhahira has many settlements with a hardworking agricultural community and that the uncharted area stretching 250 miles west to the El Katr peninsula is a barren, gravelly steppe that gently slopes down to the salt marshes along the gulf's shores.

Leaving southern Arabia, we now come to the centre and north. The first explorer to enter the sacred Hejaz with a definite scientific object was the Spaniard, Badia y Leblich, who, under the name of Ali Bey and claiming Exploration in Hejaz. to be the last representative of the Abbasid Caliphs, arrived at Jidda in 1807, and performed the pilgrimage to Mecca. Besides giving to the world the first accurate description of the holy city and the Haj ceremonies, he was the first to fix the position of Mecca by astronomical observations, and to describe the physical character of its surroundings. But the true pioneer of exploration in Hejaz was J.L. Burckhardt, who had already won a reputation as the discoverer of Petra, and whose experience of travel in Arab lands and knowledge of Arab life qualified him to pass as a Moslem, even in the headquarters of Islam. Burckhardt landed in Jidda in July 1814, when Mehemet Ali had already driven the Wahhabi invaders out of Hejaz, and was preparing for his farther advance against their stronghold in Nejd. He first visited Taif at the invitation of the pasha, thence he proceeded to Mecca, where he spent three months studying every detail of the topography of the holy places, and going through all the ceremonies incumbent on a Moslem pilgrim. In January 1815 he travelled to Medina by the western or coast route, and arrived there safely but broken in health by the hardships of the journey. His illness did not, however, prevent his seeing and recording everything of interest in Medina with the same care as at Mecca, though it compelled him to cut short the further journey he had proposed to himself, and to return by Yambu and the sea to Cairo, where he died only two years later.

Leaving southern Arabia, we now move to the center and north. The first explorer to enter the sacred Hejaz with a clear scientific purpose was the Spaniard, Badia y Leblich, who, under the name of Ali Bey and claiming to be the last representative of the Abbasid Caliphs, arrived in Jidda in 1807 and completed the pilgrimage to Mecca. He provided the world with the first accurate description of the holy city and the Hajj ceremonies, and he was the first to pinpoint the location of Mecca through astronomical observations and to describe the physical features of its surroundings. However, the true pioneer of exploration in Hejaz was J.L. Burckhardt, who had already earned a reputation as the discoverer of Petra. His travel experience in Arab lands and his understanding of Arab life allowed him to pass as a Muslim, even in the heart of Islam. Burckhardt landed in Jidda in July 1814, when Mehemet Ali had already expelled the Wahhabi invaders from Hejaz and was preparing to advance against their stronghold in Nejd. He first visited Taif at the invitation of the pasha, then proceeded to Mecca, where he spent three months studying every detail of the topography of the holy places and participating in all the ceremonies required of a Muslim pilgrim. In January 1815, he traveled to Medina by the western or coastal route and arrived there safely, though his health was deteriorating from the hardships of the journey. His illness did not prevent him from observing and recording everything of interest in Medina with the same diligence as in Mecca, though it did force him to cut short his planned further travels and return via Yambu and the sea to Cairo, where he died just two years later.

His striking successor, Sir Richard Burton, covered nearly the same ground thirty-eight years afterwards. He, too, travelling as a Moslem pilgrim, noted the whole ritual of the pilgrimage with the same keen observation as Burckhardt, and while amplifying somewhat the latter’s description of Medina, confirms the accuracy of his work there and at Mecca in almost every detail. Burton’s topographical descriptions are fuller, and his march to Mecca from Medina by the eastern route led him over ground not traversed by any other explorer in Hejaz: this route leads at first south-east from Medina, and then south across the lava beds of the Harra, keeping throughout its length on the high plateau which forms the borderland between Hejaz and Nejd. His original intention had been after visiting Mecca to find his way across the peninsula to Oman, but the time at his disposal (as an Indian officer on leave) was insufficient for so extended a journey; and his further contributions to Arabian geography were not made until twenty-five years later, when he was deputed by the Egyptian government to examine the reported gold deposits of Midian. Traces of ancient workings were found in several places, but the ores did not contain gold in paying quantities. Interesting archaeological discoveries were made, and a valuable topographical survey was carried out, covering the whole Midian coast from the head of the Gulf of Akaba to the mouth of the Wadi Hamd, and including both the Tehama range and the Hisma valley behind it; while the importance of the W. Hamd and the extent of the area drained by its tributaries was for the first time brought to light.

His remarkable successor, Sir Richard Burton, explored nearly the same area thirty-eight years later. He also traveled as a Muslim pilgrim, documenting the entire pilgrimage ritual with the same sharp eye as Burckhardt. While expanding on Burckhardt's descriptions of Medina, Burton confirmed the accuracy of his work in Medina and Mecca in nearly every detail. Burton's geographical descriptions are more detailed, and his journey to Mecca from Medina via the eastern route took him through areas that no other explorer had traversed in Hejaz. This route initially heads southeast from Medina, then south across the lava fields of the Harra, consistently staying along the high plateau that forms the border between Hejaz and Nejd. He originally intended to travel from Mecca across the peninsula to Oman, but his limited time (as an Indian officer on leave) was not enough for such a long journey. His further contributions to Arabian geography would not occur until twenty-five years later when the Egyptian government assigned him to investigate the reported gold deposits in Midian. Signs of ancient mining activities were discovered in several locations, but the ores did not yield gold in profitable amounts. Significant archaeological finds were made, and a valuable topographical survey was conducted, covering the entire Midian coast from the top of the Gulf of Akaba to the mouth of the Wadi Hamd, including both the Tehama range and the Hisma valley behind it; this was the first time the significance of Wadi Hamd and the extent of the area drained by its tributaries were uncovered.

Burckhardt had hoped in 1815 that the advance of the Egyptian expedition would have given him the opportunity to see something of Nejd, but he had already left Arabia before the overthrow of the Wahhabi power Exploration in Nejd. by Ibrahim Pasha had opened Nejd to travellers from Hejaz, and though several European officers accompanied the expedition, none of them left any record of his experience. It is, however, to the Egyptian conquest that the first visit of a British traveller to Nejd is due. The Indian government, wishing to enter into relations with Ibrahim Pasha, as de facto ruler of Nejd and El Hasa, with a view to putting down piracy in the Persian Gulf, which was seriously affecting Indian trade, sent a small mission under Captain G.F. Sadlier to congratulate the pasha on the success of the Egyptian arms, and no doubt with the ulterior object of obtaining a first-hand report on the real situation. On his arrival at Hofuf, Sadlier found that Ibrahim had already left Deraiya, but still hoping to intercept him before quitting Nejd, he followed up the retreating Egyptians through Yemama, and Wushm to Ras in Kasim, where he caught up the main body of Ibrahim’s army, though the pasha himself had gone on to Medina. Sadlier hesitated about going farther, but he was unable to obtain a safe conduct to Basra, or to return by the way he had come, and was compelled reluctantly to accompany the army to Medina. Here he at last met Ibrahim, but though courteously received, the interview had no results, and Sadlier soon after left for Yambu, whence he embarked for Jidda, and after another fruitless attempt to treat with Ibrahim, sailed for India. If the political results of the mission were nil, the value to geographical science was immense; for though no geographer himself, Sadlier’s route across Arabia made it possible for the first time to locate the principal places in something like their proper relative positions; incidentally, too, it showed the practicability of a considerable body of regular troops crossing the deserts of Nejd even in the months of July and August.

Burckhardt had hoped in 1815 that the progress of the Egyptian expedition would allow him to see some of Nejd, but he had already left Arabia before the defeat of the Wahhabi power by Ibrahim Pasha opened Nejd to travelers from Hejaz. Although several European officers accompanied the expedition, none recorded their experiences. However, the Egyptian conquest led to the first visit of a British traveler to Nejd. The Indian government, wanting to establish relations with Ibrahim Pasha as the de facto ruler of Nejd and El Hasa to curb piracy in the Persian Gulf, which was significantly impacting Indian trade, sent a small mission led by Captain G.F. Sadlier to congratulate the pasha on the Egyptian army's success and likely to get a firsthand report on the actual situation. Upon arriving at Hofuf, Sadlier found that Ibrahim had already left Deraiya, but still hoping to catch him before he left Nejd, he followed the retreating Egyptians through Yemama and Wushm to Ras in Kasim, where he joined the main body of Ibrahim’s army, although the pasha himself had gone on to Medina. Sadlier hesitated to go further, but he was unable to obtain safe passage to Basra or return the way he came, and he had to reluctantly accompany the army to Medina. There, he finally met Ibrahim, but although he was received politely, the meeting yielded no results, and Sadlier soon left for Yambu, from where he sailed to Jidda. After another unsuccessful attempt to negotiate with Ibrahim, he sailed back to India. While the political outcomes of the mission were nil, its value to geographical science was immense; although Sadlier was not a geographer himself, his route across Arabia allowed for the first accurate placement of the main locations in their proper relative positions. Additionally, it demonstrated that a significant number of regular troops could cross the deserts of Nejd even in July and August.

Sadlier’s route had left Jebel Shammar to one side; his successor, G.A. Wallin, was to make that the objective of his journey. Commissioned by Mehemet Ali to inform him about the situation in Nejd brought about by the rising power of Abdallah Ibn Rashid, Wallin left Cairo in April 1845, and crossing the pilgrim road at Ma’an, pushed on across the Syrian desert to the Wadi Sirhan and the Jauf oasis, where he halted during the hot summer months. From the wells of Shakik he crossed the waterless Nafud in four days to Jubba, and after a halt there in the nomad camps, he moved on to Hail, already a thriving town, and the capital of the Shammar state whose limits included all northern Arabia from Kasim to the Syrian border. After a stay in Hail, where he had every opportunity of observing the character of the country and its inhabitants, and the hospitality and patriarchal, if sometimes stern, justice of its chief, he travelled on to Medina and Mecca, and returned thence to Cairo to report to his patron. Early in 1848 he again returned to Arabia, avoiding the long desert journey by landing at Muwela, thence striking inland to Tebuk on the pilgrim road, and re-entering Shammar territory at the oasis of Tema, he again visited Hail; and after spending a month there travelled northwards to Kerbela and Bagdad.

Sadlier’s route had left Jebel Shammar behind; his successor, G.A. Wallin, planned to make that his destination. Commissioned by Mehemet Ali to update him on the situation in Nejd caused by the rising power of Abdallah Ibn Rashid, Wallin departed from Cairo in April 1845. After crossing the pilgrim road at Ma’an, he pushed through the Syrian desert to the Wadi Sirhan and the Jauf oasis, where he paused during the hot summer months. From the wells of Shakik, he crossed the dry Nafud in four days to Jubba. After a stop in the nomad camps there, he continued to Hail, which was already a thriving town and the capital of the Shammar state, encompassing all of northern Arabia from Kasim to the Syrian border. During his time in Hail, he had plenty of opportunities to observe the character of the land and its people, as well as the hospitality and sometimes stern justice of its chief. He then traveled on to Medina and Mecca before returning to Cairo to report back to his patron. Early in 1848, he returned to Arabia, this time avoiding the long desert trek by landing at Muwela, then moving inland to Tebuk on the pilgrim road. Re-entering Shammar territory at the oasis of Tema, he visited Hail again; after spending a month there, he traveled north to Kerbela and Baghdad.

The effects of the Egyptian invasion had passed away, and central Arabia had settled down again under its native rulers when W.G. Palgrave made his adventurous journey through Nejd, and published the remarkable narrative Palgrave’s journey to Nejd. which has taken its place as the classic of Arabian exploration. Like Burton he was once an officer in the Indian army, but for some time before his journey he had been connected with the Jesuit mission in Syria. By training and temperament he was better qualified to appreciate and describe the social life of the people than their physical surroundings, and if the results of his great journey are disappointing to the geographer, his account of the society of the oasis towns, and of the remarkable men who were then ruling in Hail and Riad, must always possess an absorbing interest as a portrait of Arab life in its freest development.

The impacts of the Egyptian invasion had faded away, and central Arabia had returned to its native rulers when W.G. Palgrave embarked on his adventurous journey through Nejd and published the impressive narrative Palgrave's trip to Nejd. which has become a classic in Arabian exploration. Like Burton, he was once an officer in the Indian army, but for some time before his journey, he had been involved with the Jesuit mission in Syria. Due to his background and personality, he was better suited to appreciate and describe the social life of the people rather than their physical environment. While the results of his extensive journey might disappoint geographers, his account of the society in the oasis towns and the remarkable leaders who were in power in Hail and Riad will always hold captivating interest as a depiction of Arab life at its most liberated.

Following Wallin’s route across the desert by Ma’an and Jauf, Palgrave and his companion, a Syrian Christian, reached Hail in July 1862; here they were hospitably entertained by the amir Talal, nephew of the founder of the Ibn Rashid dynasty, and after some stay passed on with his countenance through Kasim to southern Nejd. Palgrave says little of the desert part of the journey or of its Bedouin inhabitants, but much of the 257 fertility of the oases and of the civility of the townsmen; and like other travellers in Nejd he speaks with enthusiasm of its bright, exhilarating climate. At Riad, Fesal, who had been in power since the Egyptian retirement, was still reigning; and the religious tyranny of Wahhabism prevailed, in marked contrast to the liberal régime of Talal in Jebel Shammar. Still, Palgrave and his companions, though known as Christians, spent nearly two months in the capital without molestation, making short excursions in the neighbourhood, the most important of which was to El Kharfa in Aflaj, the most southerly district of Nejd. Leaving Riad, they passed through Yemama, and across a strip of sandy desert to El Hasa where Palgrave found himself in more congenial surroundings. Finally, a voyage to the Oman coast and a brief stay there brought his adventures in Arabia to a successful ending.

Following Wallin’s route across the desert via Ma’an and Jauf, Palgrave and his companion, a Syrian Christian, arrived in Hail in July 1862. There, they were warmly welcomed by Amir Talal, the nephew of the founder of the Ibn Rashid dynasty. After staying for a while, they continued on with his support through Kasim to southern Nejd. Palgrave doesn’t say much about the desert part of the journey or its Bedouin inhabitants, but he discusses the fertility of the oases and the friendliness of the townspeople. Like other travelers in Nejd, he enthusiastically mentions its bright, refreshing climate. In Riyadh, Fesal, who had been in power since the Egyptians left, was still ruling; and the religious oppression of Wahhabism was prevalent, contrasting sharply with the more liberal rule of Talal in Jebel Shammar. Still, Palgrave and his companions, although recognized as Christians, spent nearly two months in the capital without any trouble, taking short trips in the area, the most significant being to El Kharfa in Aflaj, the southernmost district of Nejd. After leaving Riyadh, they passed through Yemama and crossed a stretch of sandy desert to El Hasa, where Palgrave found himself in more familiar surroundings. Ultimately, a journey to the Oman coast and a brief stay there wrapped up his adventures in Arabia successfully.

Charles Doughty, the next Englishman to visit northern Arabia, though he covered little new ground, saw more of the desert life, and has described it more minutely and faithfully than any other explorer. Travelling down Doughty. from Damascus in 1875 with the Haj caravan, he stopped at El Hajr, one of the pilgrim stations, with the intention of awaiting the return of the caravan and in the meantime of exploring the rock-cut tombs of Medain Salih and El Ala. Having successfully completed his investigations and sent copies of inscriptions and drawings of the tombs to Renan in Paris, he determined to push on farther into the desert. Under the protection of a sheikh of the Fukara Bedouin he wandered over the whole of the borderland between Hejaz and Nejd. Visiting Tema, where among other ancient remains he discovered the famous inscribed stone, afterwards acquired by Huber for the Louvre. Next summer he went on to Hail and thence back to Khaibar, where the negro governor and townsmen, less tolerant than his former Bedouin hosts, ill-treated him and even threatened his life. Returning to Hail in the absence of the amir, he was expelled by the governor; he succeeded, however, in finding protection at Aneza, where he spent several months, and eventually after many hardships and perils found his way to the coast at Jidda.

Charles Doughty, the next Englishman to explore northern Arabia, although he didn't cover much new territory, experienced more of the desert life and described it in greater detail and accuracy than any other explorer. Traveling from Damascus in 1875 with the Haj caravan, he stopped at El Hajr, one of the pilgrimage stations, planning to wait for the caravan's return while exploring the rock-cut tombs of Medain Salih and El Ala. After successfully completing his research and sending copies of inscriptions and drawings of the tombs to Renan in Paris, he decided to venture deeper into the desert. Protected by a sheikh of the Fukara Bedouin, he roamed the entire border area between Hejaz and Nejd. In Tema, he discovered the famous inscribed stone among other ancient remains, which was later acquired by Huber for the Louvre. The following summer, he traveled to Hail and then back to Khaibar, where the local governor and townspeople, less tolerant than his previous Bedouin hosts, treated him poorly and even threatened his life. Upon returning to Hail in the amir's absence, he was expelled by the governor; however, he managed to find refuge at Aneza, where he stayed for several months. Eventually, after facing numerous challenges and dangers, he made his way to the coast at Jidda.

Three years later Mr Wilfrid and Lady Anne Blunt made their expedition to J. Shammar. In their previous travels in Syria they had gained the confidence and friendship of a young sheikh whose family, though long settled at Tadmur, came originally from Nejd, and who was anxious to renew the connexion with his kinsmen by seeking a bride among them. In his company the Blunts set out from Damascus, and travelled across the Syrian desert by the Wadi Sirhan to Jauf. Here the sheikh found some of his relations and the matrimonial alliance was soon arranged; but though the object of the journey had been attained, the Blunts were anxious to visit Hail and make the acquaintance of the amir Ibn Rashid, of whose might and generosity they daily heard from their hosts in Jauf. The long stretch of waterless desert between Jauf and J. Shammar was crossed without difficulty, and the party was welcomed by the amir and hospitably entertained for a month, after which they travelled northwards in company with the Persian pilgrim caravan returning to Kerbela and Bagdad.

Three years later, Mr. Wilfrid and Lady Anne Blunt set out on their expedition to J. Shammar. During their earlier travels in Syria, they had built a bond and friendship with a young sheikh whose family, while long established in Tadmur, originally hailed from Nejd. He was eager to reconnect with his relatives by finding a bride among them. Accompanied by the sheikh, the Blunts departed from Damascus and traveled through the Syrian desert via the Wadi Sirhan to Jauf. There, the sheikh met some of his relatives, and a marriage alliance was quickly arranged. However, even though they had achieved their main goal, the Blunts wanted to visit Hail and meet the amir Ibn Rashid, about whom they heard stories of strength and generosity from their hosts in Jauf. The long stretch of dry desert between Jauf and J. Shammar was crossed without any issues, and the group was warmly welcomed by the amir, who hosted them for a month. Afterward, they traveled north with the Persian pilgrim caravan heading back to Kerbela and Bagdad.

In 1883 the French traveller, C. Huber, accompanied by the archaeologist, J. Euting, followed the same route from Damascus to Hail. The narrative of the last named forms a valuable supplement to that published by the Blunts, Huber. and together with Doughty’s, furnishes as complete a picture as could be wished for of the social and political life of J. Shammar, and of the general nature of the country. Huber’s journal, published after his death from his original notes, contains a mass of topographical and archaeological detail of the greatest scientific value: his routes and observations form, in fact, the first and only scientific data for the construction of the map of northern Arabia. To archaeology also his services were of equal importance, for, besides copying numerous inscriptions in the district between Hail and Tema, he succeeded in gaining possession of the since famous Tema stone, which ranks with the Moabite stone among the most valuable of Semitic inscriptions. From Hail Huber followed nearly in Doughty’s track to Aneza and thence across central Nejd to Mecca and Jidda, where he despatched his notes and copies of inscriptions. A month later, in July 1884, he was murdered by his guides a few marches north of Jidda, on his way back to Hail.

In 1883, the French traveler C. Huber, along with archaeologist J. Euting, took the same route from Damascus to Hail. The account from Euting serves as a valuable addition to the one published by the Blunts, Huber. Together with Doughty’s work, it provides a complete view of the social and political life of J. Shammar and the general characteristics of the region. Huber's journal, published posthumously from his original notes, contains a wealth of topographical and archaeological information of significant scientific importance: his routes and observations essentially provide the first and only scientific data for mapping northern Arabia. His contributions to archaeology were equally significant because, in addition to copying many inscriptions in the area between Hail and Tema, he managed to obtain the now-famous Tema stone, which is considered one of the most valuable Semitic inscriptions alongside the Moabite stone. From Hail, Huber basically followed Doughty’s path to Aneza and then crossed central Nejd to Mecca and Jidda, where he sent out his notes and copies of inscriptions. A month later, in July 1884, he was murdered by his guides just a few marches north of Jidda while he was returning to Hail.

One other traveller visited Hail during the lifetime of the amir Mahommed—Baron E. Nolde—who arrived there in 1893, not long after the amir had by his victory over the combined forces of Riad and Kasim brought the whole of Nejd under his dominion. Nolde crossed the Nafud to Haiyania by a more direct track than that from Shakik to Jubba. The amir was away from his capital settling the affairs of his newly acquired territory; Nolde therefore, after a short halt at Hail, journeyed on to Ibn Rashid’s camp somewhere in the neighbourhood of Shakra. Here he was on new ground, but unfortunately he gives little or no description of his route thither, or of his journey northwards by the Persian pilgrim road, already traversed by Huber in 1881. His narrative thus, while containing much of general interest on the climate and on the animal life of northern Arabia, its horses and camels in particular, adds little to those of his predecessors as regards topographical detail.

One other traveler visited Hail during the life of Amir Mahommed—Baron E. Nolde—who arrived there in 1893, shortly after the amir brought the entire region of Nejd under his control by defeating the combined forces of Riad and Kasim. Nolde took a more direct route across the Nafud to Haiyania than the one from Shakik to Jubba. The amir was away from his capital dealing with the affairs of his newly acquired territory; therefore, after a brief stop in Hail, Nolde continued on to Ibn Rashid’s camp somewhere near Shakra. Here he was in unfamiliar territory, but unfortunately, he provides very little description of his route there or of his journey north along the Persian pilgrim road, which had already been traveled by Huber in 1881. His account, while containing much of general interest about the climate and the wildlife of northern Arabia, particularly its horses and camels, adds little to what earlier travelers have described in terms of topographical details.

If the journeys detailed above be traced on the map they will be found to cover the northern half of the peninsula above the line Mecca-Hofuf, with a network of routes, which, though sometimes separated by wide intervals, General results of exploration. are still close enough to ensure that no important geographical feature can have been overlooked, especially in a country whose general character varies so little over wide areas. In the southern half, on the other hand, except in Nejran and Jauf, no European traveller has penetrated 100 m. in a direct line from the coast. The vast extent of the Dahna, or great southern desert, covering perhaps 250,000 sq. m., accounts for about a third of this area, but some of the most favoured districts in Arabia—Asir and northern Yemen—remain unexplored, and the hydrography of the Dawasir basin offers some interesting problems, while a great field remains for the archaeologist in the seat of the old Sabaean kingdom from Jauf to the Hadramut valley.

If you trace the journeys mentioned above on a map, you'll see they cover the northern half of the peninsula above the Mecca-Hofuf line, with a network of routes that, while sometimes spaced far apart, are still close enough to ensure that no significant geographical feature has been overlooked, especially in a region where the general landscape doesn't change much over vast areas. In contrast, the southern half, apart from Nejran and Jauf, has seen no European traveler go more than 100 miles in a straight line from the coast. The enormous Dahna desert, which spans about 250,000 square miles, accounts for roughly a third of this area, but some of the most attractive regions in Arabia—Asir and northern Yemen—are still unexplored. The hydrology of the Dawasir basin presents some intriguing challenges, and there's a significant opportunity for archaeologists in the area of the ancient Sabaean kingdom from Jauf to the Hadramut valley.

Topographical Details.—Beginning from the north-west, the Sinai peninsula belongs to Egypt, though geographically part of Arabia. It is bounded on the E. by a line drawn from Ar Rafa, a few miles E. of El Arish on the Mediterranean, to the head Sinai Peninsula. of the Gulf of Akaba; and on the W. by the Suez Canal; its length from El Arish to its most southern point is 240 m., and its breadth from Suez to Akaba is nearly 160 m. The greater part drains to the Mediterranean, from which the land rises gradually to the summit of the Tih plateau. The deep depression of Wadi Feran separates the Tih from the higher mass of Sinai (q.v.), in which J. Katherine attains a height of 8500 ft.; except in W. Feran there is little cultivable land, the greater part consisting of bare, rocky hills and sandy valleys, sparsely covered with tamarisk and acacia bushes. The Egyptian pilgrim road crosses the peninsula from Suez to Akaba, passing the post of An Nakhl, with a reservoir and a little cultivation, about half way; a steep descent leads down from the edge of the Tih plateau to Akaba.

Topographical Details.—Starting from the northwest, the Sinai Peninsula is part of Egypt, even though it's geographically connected to Arabia. It's bordered on the east by a line stretching from Ar Rafa, just a few miles east of El Arish on the Mediterranean, to the head of the Gulf of Aqaba; and on the west by the Suez Canal. Its length from El Arish to its southernmost point is about 240 miles, and its width from Suez to Aqaba is nearly 160 miles. Most of the area drains into the Mediterranean, where the land gradually rises to the top of the Tih plateau. The deep valley of Wadi Feran separates the Tih from the higher region of Sinai (q.v.), where J. Katherine reaches a height of 8,500 feet. Except for Wadi Feran, there is little arable land; the majority consists of bare, rocky hills and sandy valleys, sparsely dotted with tamarisk and acacia bushes. The Egyptian pilgrim road cuts across the peninsula from Suez to Aqaba, passing by the post of An Nakhl, which has a reservoir and some cultivation about halfway through; a steep descent leads down from the edge of the Tih plateau to Aqaba.

The rest of the northern borderland is covered by the Syrian desert, extending from the borders of Palestine to the edge of the Euphrates valley. This tract, known as the Hamad, is a gravelly plain unbroken by any considerable range of hills Syrian desert. or any continuous watercourse except the Wadi Hauran, which in rainy seasons forms a succession of pools from J. Hauran to the Euphrates. Its general slope is to the north-east from the volcanic plateau of the Harra south of J. Hauran to the edge of the Euphrates valley. The Wadi Sirhan, a broad depression some 500 ft. below the average level of the Hamad, crosses it from north-east to south-west between Hauran and Jauf; it has a nearly uniform height above sea-level of 1850 ft., and appears to be the bed of an inland sea rather than a true watercourse. Water is found in it a few feet below the surface, and a little cultivation is carried on at the small oases of Kaf and Ithri, whence salt produced in the neighbouring salt lakes is exported. The W. Sirhan is continuous with the depression known as the Jauf, situated on the northern edge of the Nefud or Nafud, and the halfway station between Damascus and Hail; and it is possible that this depression continues eastward towards the Euphrates along a line a little north of the thirtieth parallel, where wells and pasturages are known to exist. Jauf is a small town consisting, at the time of the Blunts’ visit in 1879, of not more than 500 houses. The town with its gardens, surrounded by a mud wall, covers a space of 2 m. in length by half a mile in width; the basin in which it lies is barely 3 m. across, and except for the palm gardens and a few patches of corn, it is a dead flat of 258 white sand, closed in by high sandstone cliffs, beyond which lies the open desert. The oases of Sakaka and Kara are situated in a similar basin 15 m. to the east; the former a town of 10,000 inhabitants and somewhat larger than Jauf according to Huber.

The rest of the northern borderland is covered by the Syrian desert, stretching from the borders of Palestine to the edge of the Euphrates valley. This area, known as the Hamad, is a gravel plain with no significant hills or continuous watercourses except for the Wadi Hauran, which forms a series of pools in rainy seasons from J. Hauran to the Euphrates. It generally slopes northeast from the volcanic plateau of the Harra south of J. Hauran to the edge of the Euphrates valley. The Wadi Sirhan, a broad depression about 500 ft. below the average level of the Hamad, runs from northeast to southwest between Hauran and Jauf; it has a consistent height above sea level of 1850 ft. and looks more like the bed of an inland sea than a true watercourse. Water can be found a few feet below the surface, and some farming occurs at the small oases of Kaf and Ithri, which export salt produced in the nearby salt lakes. The Wadi Sirhan connects with the depression called Jauf, located on the northern edge of the Nefud, and serves as a halfway point between Damascus and Hail; it's possible this depression extends eastward toward the Euphrates along a line slightly north of the thirtieth parallel, where wells and pastures are known to exist. Jauf is a small town that, during the Blunts’ visit in 1879, had no more than 500 houses. The town, with its gardens and surrounded by a mud wall, covers an area 2 miles long by half a mile wide; the basin it sits in is just under 3 miles across, and aside from the palm gardens and a few patches of corn, it is a flat expanse of white sand surrounded by high sandstone cliffs, beyond which lies the open desert. The oases of Sakaka and Kara are located in a similar basin 15 miles to the east; the former is a town with 10,000 inhabitants and is somewhat larger than Jauf, according to Huber.

A short distance south of Jauf the character of the desert changes abruptly from a level black expanse of gravel to the red sands of the Nafud. The northern edge of this great desert follows very nearly the line of the thirtieth parallel, along which The Nafud. it extends east and west for a length of some 400 m.; its breadth from north to south is 200 m. Though almost waterless, it is in fact better wooded and richer in pasture than any part of the Hamad; the sand-hills are dotted with ghada, a species of tamarisk, and other bushes, and several grasses and succulent plants —among them the adar, on which sheep are said to feed for a month without requiring water—are found in abundance in good seasons. In the spring months, when their camels are in milk, the Bedouins care nothing for water, and wander far into the Nafud with their flocks in search of the green pasture which springs up everywhere after the winter rains. A few wells exist actually in the Nafud in the district called El Hajra, near its north-eastern border, and along its southern border, between J. Shammar and Tema, there are numerous wells and artificial as well as natural reservoirs resorted to by the nomad tribes.

A short distance south of Jauf, the landscape of the desert changes dramatically from a flat black area of gravel to the red sands of the Nafud. The northern edge of this vast desert closely follows the line of the thirtieth parallel, stretching east and west for about 400 km; its width from north to south is 200 km. Although it’s nearly devoid of water, it actually has more trees and better grazing than any part of the Hamad; the sand dunes are scattered with *ghada*, a type of tamarisk, and other shrubs, along with several grasses and succulent plants—among them the *adar*, which sheep can feed on for a month without needing water—are plentiful in good seasons. In the spring months, when their camels are lactating, the Bedouins don’t worry about finding water and roam far into the Nafud with their flocks in search of the lush pastures that spring up everywhere after the winter rains. There are a few wells located within the Nafud in an area called El Hajra, near its northeastern edge, and along its southern border, between J. Shammar and Tema, there are many wells and both man-made and natural reservoirs that nomadic tribes rely on.

Owing to the great extent of the Nafud desert, the formation of sand-dunes is exemplified on a proportionate scale. In many places longitudinal dunes are found exceeding a day’s journey in length, the valleys between which take three or four hours to cross; but the most striking feature of the Nafud are the high crescent-shaped sand-hills, known locally as falk or falj, described by Blunt and Huber, who devoted some time to their investigation. The falks enclose a deep hollow (known as ka‘r), the floor of which is often hard soil bare of sand, and from which the inner slopes of the falk rise as steeply as the sand will lie (about 50°). On the summit of the falk there is generally a mound known as tas or barkhus composed of white sand which stands out conspicuously against the deep red of the surrounding deserts; the exterior slopes are comparatively gentle. The falks are singularly uniform in shape, but vary greatly in size; the largest were estimated by Huber and Euting at 1¼ m. across and 330 ft. deep. They run in strings irregularly from east to west, corresponding in this with their individual direction, the convex face of the falk being towards the west, i.e. the direction of the prevailing wind, and the cusps to leeward. In the south of the Nafud, where Huber found the prevailing wind to be from the south, the falks are turned in that direction. Though perhaps subject to slight changes in the course of years, there is no doubt that these dunes are practically permanent features; the more prominent ones serve as landmarks and have well-known distinctive names. The character of the vegetation which clothes their slopes shows that even superficial changes must be slight. The general level of the Nafud was found by Huber’s observations to be about 3000 ft. above sea-level; the highest point on the Jauf-Hail route is at Falk Alam, the rocky peaks of which rise 200 or 300 ft. above the surface of the sand. Other peaks cropping out of the Nafud are Jebel Tawil, near the wells of Shakik, and J. Abrak Rada, a long black ridge in the middle of the desert.

Due to the vastness of the Nafud desert, the formation of sand dunes is clearly visible on a large scale. In many areas, there are longitudinal dunes that stretch over a day’s journey in length, with valleys between them taking three or four hours to cross. However, the most striking feature of the Nafud is the tall crescent-shaped sand hills, known locally as falk or falj, which Blunt and Huber studied extensively. The falks enclose a deep hollow (known as ka‘r), the floor of which often consists of hard soil without sand, and from which the inner slopes of the falk rise steeply at about 50°. At the top of the falk, there is usually a mound called tas or barkhus, made up of white sand that stands out sharply against the deep red of the surrounding deserts; the outer slopes are relatively gentle. The falks have a remarkably uniform shape but vary significantly in size; the largest have been measured by Huber and Euting at about 1¼ m. across and 330 ft. deep. They run in irregular strings from east to west, aligning with their individual direction, with the convex side of the falk facing west, i.e. the direction of the prevailing wind, and the peaks facing away from it. In the southern region of the Nafud, where Huber found the prevailing wind to come from the south, the falks are oriented that way. Although they may change slightly over the years, these dunes are mostly permanent features; the more prominent ones act as landmarks and have well-known distinctive names. The type of vegetation that covers their slopes indicates that even minor changes must be minimal. Huber’s observations found that the general level of the Nafud is about 3000 ft. above sea level; the highest point on the Jauf-Hail route is at Falk Alam, whose rocky peaks rise 200 or 300 ft. above the sand surface. Other peaks that emerge from the Nafud include Jebel Tawil, near the wells of Shakik, and J. Abrak Rada, a long black ridge in the middle of the desert.

The high plateau which from. J. Hauran southward forms the main watershed of the peninsula is covered in places by deep beds of lava, which from their hardness have preserved the underlying sandstones from degradation, and now stand up considerably The Harra. above the general level. These tracts are known as harra; the most remarkable is the Harrat El Awerid, west of the Haj route from Tebuk to El Ala, a mountain mass 100 m. in length with an average height of over 5000 ft., and the highest summit of which, J. Anaz, exceeds 7000 ft. The harra east of Khaibar is also of considerable extent, and the same formation is found all along the Hejaz border from Medina to the Jebel el Kura, east of Mecca. The surface of the harra is extremely broken, forming a labyrinth of lava crags and blocks of every size; the whole region is sterile and almost waterless, and compared with the Nafud it produces little vegetation; but it is resorted to by the Bedouin in the spring and summer months when the air is always fresh and cool. In winter it is cold and snow often lies for some time.

The high plateau that extends from J. Hauran southward forms the main watershed of the peninsula. In some areas, it's covered by thick layers of lava, which are so hard they’ve protected the underlying sandstones from wearing away, causing them to rise significantly above the general level. These areas are known as harra; the most notable one is the Harrat El Awerid, located west of the Haj route from Tebuk to El Ala. It’s a mountain mass 100 miles long with an average height of over 5,000 feet, and the highest peak, J. Anaz, exceeds 7,000 feet. The harra east of Khaibar is also quite extensive, and this same formation runs along the Hejaz border from Medina to the Jebel el Kura, east of Mecca. The surface of the harra is extremely rugged, creating a maze of lava crags and blocks of every size; the entire region is barren and almost devoid of water, producing little vegetation compared to the Nafud. However, Bedouins visit it in the spring and summer months when the air is always fresh and cool. In the winter, it gets cold, and snow can linger for some time.

Hejaz, if we except the Taif district in the south, which is properly a part of the Yemen plateau, forms a well-marked physical division, lying on the western slope of the peninsula, where that slope is at its widest, between the Harra and the Red Sea. Hejaz. A high range of granite hills, known as the Tehama range, the highest point of which, J. Shar, in Midian, exceeds 6500 ft., divides it longitudinally into a narrow littoral and a broader upland zone 2000 or 3000 ft. above the sea. Both are generally bare and unproductive, the uplands, however, contain the fertile valleys of Khaibar and Medina, draining to the Wadi Hamd, the principal river system of western Arabia; and the Wadi Jadid or Es Safra, rising in the Harra between Medina and Es Safina, which contain several settlements, of which the principal produce is dates. The quartz reefs which crop out in the granite ranges of the Tehama contain traces of gold. These and the ancient copper workings were investigated by Burton in 1877. The richer veins had evidently been long ago worked out, and nothing of sufficient value to justify further outlay was discovered. The coast-line is fringed with small islets and shoals and reefs, which make navigation dangerous. The only ports of importance are Yambu and Jidda, which serve respectively Medina and Mecca; they depend entirely on the pilgrim traffic to the holy cities, without which they could not exist.

Hejaz, except for the Taif district in the south, which is technically part of the Yemen plateau, forms a clear physical division on the western slope of the peninsula, where the slope is at its widest, between the Harra and the Red Sea. Hejaz. A high range of granite hills, known as the Tehama range, with its highest point, J. Shar, in Midian, over 6,500 ft., divides the region into a narrow coastal area and a wider upland zone 2,000 to 3,000 ft. above sea level. Both areas are typically barren and unproductive, although the uplands include the fertile valleys of Khaibar and Medina, which drain into the Wadi Hamd, the main river system of western Arabia; and the Wadi Jadid or Es Safra, which starts in the Harra between Medina and Es Safina, containing several settlements where dates are the primary crop. The quartz reefs found in the granite ranges of the Tehama have traces of gold. These and the ancient copper mines were explored by Burton in 1877. The richer veins had clearly been exhausted long ago, and nothing of significant value to justify further investment was found. The coastline has small islets, shoals, and reefs that make navigation risky. The only significant ports are Yambu and Jidda, serving Medina and Mecca, respectively; they rely entirely on the pilgrim traffic to the holy cities, without which they couldn't survive.

The great central province of Nejd occupies all inner Arabia between the Nafud and the southern desert. Its northern part forms the basin of the Wadi Rumma, which, rising in the Khaibar harra, runs north-eastward across the whole Nejd. width of Nejd, till it is lost in the sands of the eastern Nafud, north of Aneza. The greater portion of this region is an open steppe, sandy in places and in others dotted with low volcanic hills, but with occasional ground water and in favourable seasons furnishing support for a considerable pastoral population. Its elevation varies from about 5000 ft. in the west to 2500 ft. in the east. In Jebel Shammar, Kasim and Wushm, where the water in the wadi beds rises nearly to the ground level, numerous fertile oases are found with thriving villages and towns.

The central region of Nejd covers all of inner Arabia between the Nafud and the southern desert. Its northern part forms the basin of the Wadi Rumma, which starts in the Khaibar harra and flows northeast across the entire width of Nejd until it disappears into the sands of the eastern Nafud, north of Aneza. Most of this area is an open steppe, sandy in some places and marked by low volcanic hills in others, but it has occasional groundwater and, during favorable seasons, can support a significant pastoral population. The elevation ranges from about 5,000 feet in the west to 2,500 feet in the east. In Jebel Shammar, Kasim, and Wushm, where the water in the wadi beds rises close to the ground level, you'll find many fertile oases with thriving villages and towns.

Jebel Shammar, from which the northern district of Nejd takes its name, is a double range of mountains some 20 m. apart, rising sharply out of the desert in bare, granite cliffs. J. Aja, the western and higher of the two ranges, has a length of about 100 m. from north-east to south-west, where it merges into the high plateau extending from and continuous with the Khaibar harra. The highest point, J. Kara, near its north-eastern extremity, is about 4600 ft. above sea-level, or 1600 ft. above the town of Hail, which, like most of the larger villages, lies along the wadi bed at the foot of J. Aja. The town, which has risen with the fortunes of the Ibn Rashid family to be the capital of Upper Nejd, is at the mouth of the valley between the twin ranges, about 2 m. from the foot of J. Aja, and contained at the time of Nolde’s visit in 1893 about 12,000 inhabitants.

Jebel Shammar, from which the northern part of Nejd gets its name, is a double range of mountains about 20 meters apart, rising steeply out of the desert with bare granite cliffs. J. Aja, the western and taller of the two ranges, stretches for roughly 100 meters from northeast to southwest, where it connects to the high plateau that extends from and is continuous with the Khaibar harra. The highest point, J. Kara, near its northeastern end, is around 4,600 feet above sea level, or 1,600 feet above the town of Hail, which, like most larger villages, sits along the wadi bed at the base of J. Aja. The town, which has grown in importance with the Ibn Rashid family's rise to power, serves as the capital of Upper Nejd. It is located at the mouth of the valley between the two mountain ranges, about 2 miles from the foot of J. Aja, and had around 12,000 residents at the time of Nolde’s visit in 1893.

The principal tributaries of the W. Rumma converge in lower Kasim, and at Aneza Doughty says its bed is 3 m. wide from bank to bank. Forty years before his visit a flood is said to have occurred, which passed down the river till it was blocked by sand-drifts at Thuwerat, 50 m. lower down, and for two years a lake stood nearly 100 m. long, crowded by waterfowl not known before in that desert country. Below this its course has not been followed by any European traveller, but it may be inferred from the line of watering-places on the road to Kuwet, that it runs out to the Persian Gulf in that neighbourhood.

The main tributaries of the W. Rumma come together in lower Kasim, and at Aneza, Doughty notes that its bed is 3 meters wide from bank to bank. Forty years before his visit, a flood reportedly occurred that flowed down the river until it got blocked by sand-drifts at Thuwerat, 50 meters further down, and for two years, a lake formed that was almost 100 meters long, filled with waterfowl that had not been seen before in that desert region. Below this point, no European traveler has followed its course, but it can be inferred from the series of watering places along the road to Kuwet that it likely flows out to the Persian Gulf in that area.

East of Kasim the land rises gradually to the high plateau culminating in the ranges of Jebel Tuwek and J. Arid. The general direction of these hills is from north-west to south-east. On the west they rise somewhat steeply, exposing high cliffs of white limestone, which perhaps gave Palgrave the impression that the range is of greater absolute height than is actually the case. J. Tuwek in any case forms an important geographical feature in eastern Nejd, interrupting by a transverse barrier 200 m. in length the general north-easterly slope of the peninusla, and separating the basin of the W. Rumma from that of the other great river system of central Arabia, the Wadi Dawasir. The districts of Suder and Wushm lie on its northern side, Arid in the centre, and Aflaj, Harik and Yemama on its south, in the basin of the W. Dawasir; the whole of this hilly region of eastern Nejd is, perhaps, rather a rolling down country than truly mountainous, in which high pastures alternate with deep fertile valleys, supporting numerous villages with a large agricultural population. The W. Hanifa is its principal watercourse; its course is marked by an almost continuous series of palm groves and settlements, among which Deraiya the former, and Riad the present, capital of the Ibn Saud kingdom are the most extensive. Its lower course is uncertain, but it probably continues in a south-east direction to the districts of El Harik and Yemama when, joined by the drainage from Aflaj and the W. Dawasir, it runs eastward till it disappears in the belt of sandy desert 100 m. in width that forms the eastern boundary of Nejd, to reappear in the copious springs that fertilize El Hasa and the Bahrein littoral.

East of Kasim, the land gradually rises to a high plateau that leads to the ranges of Jebel Tuwek and J. Arid. These hills generally run from northwest to southeast. On the west, they rise somewhat steeply, revealing high cliffs of white limestone, which might have given Palgrave the impression that the range is taller than it really is. In any case, J. Tuwek is an important geographical feature in eastern Nejd, acting as a transverse barrier 200 meters long that interrupts the general northeast slope of the peninsula, separating the basin of the W. Rumma from the basin of the other major river system in central Arabia, the Wadi Dawasir. The districts of Suder and Wushm are located on its northern side, Arid is in the center, and Aflaj, Harik, and Yemama are situated to the south, within the basin of the W. Dawasir. This hilly region of eastern Nejd is more of a rolling countryside than truly mountainous, with high pastures alternating with deep fertile valleys that support numerous villages and a large agricultural population. The W. Hanifa is the main watercourse; its route is marked by nearly continuous palm groves and settlements, with Deraiya, the former capital, and Riad, the current capital of the Ibn Saud kingdom, being the largest. Its lower course is uncertain, but it likely continues southeast to the districts of El Harik and Yemama, where, after joining drainage from Aflaj and the W. Dawasir, it flows eastward until it disappears into a 100-meter-wide sandy desert that forms the eastern boundary of Nejd, only to reemerge in the plentiful springs that nourish El Hasa and the Bahrein coast.

As regards the unexplored southern region, Palgrave’s informants in Aflaj, the most southerly district visited by him, stated that a day’s march south of that place the Yemen road enters the W. Dawasir, up which it runs for ten days, perhaps Unexplored region of S. Nejd. 200 m., to El Kura, a thinly peopled district on the borders of Asir; this accords with the information of the French officers of the Egyptian army in that district, and with that of Halévy, who makes all the drainage from Nejran northward run to the same great wadi. Whether there be any second line of drainage in southern Nejd skirting the edge of the great desert and following the depression of the W. Yabrin must remain a matter of conjecture. Colonel Miles concluded, from his enquiries, that the low salt swamp, extending inland for some distance from Khor ed Duwan, in the bay east of El Katr, was the outlet of an extensive drainage system which may well be continuous with the W. Yabrin and extend far into the interior, if not to Nejran itself.

Regarding the unexplored southern region, Palgrave’s sources in Aflaj, the southernmost district he visited, indicated that a day's march south of there, the Yemen road enters the W. Dawasir, which it follows for ten days, about 200 miles, to El Kura, a sparsely populated area on the borders of Asir. This aligns with information from French officers of the Egyptian army in that region, as well as Halévy, who notes that all the drainage from Nejran flows northward to the same major wadi. Whether there is a second drainage line in southern Nejd that skirts the edge of the vast desert and follows the depression of the W. Yabrin remains uncertain. Colonel Miles concluded, from his inquiries, that the low salt marsh extending inland for some distance from Khor ed Duwan, in the bay east of El Katr, was the outlet of an extensive drainage system that may be connected with the W. Yabrin and extend far into the interior, possibly even to Nejran itself.

East of Nejd a strip of sandy desert 50 m. in width extends almost continuously from the great Nafud to the Dahna. East of this again a succession of stony ridges running parallel to the coast has to be crossed before El Hasa is reached. This El Hasa. province, which skirts the Persian Gulf from the mouth of the Euphrates to the frontiers of Oman, is low and hot; its shores are flat, and with the exception of Kuwet at the north-west corner of 259 the gulf, it possesses no deep water port. North of Katif it is desert and only inhabited by nomads; at Katif, however, and throughout the district to the south bordering on the Gulf of Bahrein there are ample supplies of underground water, welling up in abundant springs often at a high temperature, and bringing fertility to an extensive district of which El Hofuf, a town of 15,000 to 20,000 inhabitants, is the most important centre.

East of Nejd, a strip of sandy desert about 50 meters wide stretches almost continuously from the great Nafud to the Dahna. Beyond that, a series of rocky ridges that run parallel to the coast must be crossed before reaching El Hasa. This El Hasa. province, which borders the Persian Gulf from the mouth of the Euphrates to the edges of Oman, is flat and hot. Its shores are low, and except for Kuwait at the northwest corner of the 259 gulf, it lacks any deep-water ports. North of Katif, it is desert land mostly inhabited by nomads. However, at Katif and throughout the district to the south near the Gulf of Bahrain, there are plenty of underground water supplies that flow up in abundant springs, often at high temperatures, providing fertility to a vast area where El Hofuf, a town with 15,000 to 20,000 residents, is the main center.

South-western Arabia, from the twenty-first parallel down to the Gulf of Aden, including the Taif district of Hejaz, Asir and Yemen, forms one province geographically. Throughout its length it consists of three zones, a narrow coastal strip, rarely South-western Arabia. exceeding 20 m. in width, a central mountainous tract, embracing the great chain which runs parallel to the coast from near Taif to within 50 m. of Aden, and an inner plateau falling gradually to the north-east till it merges in the Nejd steppes or the sands of the great desert.

South-western Arabia, from the twenty-first parallel down to the Gulf of Aden, including the Taif area of Hejaz, Asir, and Yemen, is all part of one geographical province. It features three distinct zones along its length: a narrow coastal strip, usually no more than 20 meters wide; a central mountainous region that includes the major mountain chain running parallel to the coast from near Taif to about 50 meters from Aden; and an inner plateau that gradually slopes northeast until it connects with the Nejd steppes or the sands of the vast desert.

The lowland strip or Tehama consists partly of a gravelly plain, the Khabt, covered sparsely with acacia and other desert shrubs and trees, and furnishing pasturage for large flocks of goats and camels; and partly of sterile wastes of sand like the Ramla, which extends on either side of Aden almost from the seashore to the foot of the hills. The Tehama is, however, by no means all desert, the mountain torrents where they debouch into the plain have formed considerable tracts of alluvial soil of the highest degree of fertility producing in that warm equable climate two and even three crops in the year. The flood-water is controlled by a system of dams and channels constructed so as to utilize every drop, and the extent of cultivation is limited more by the supply of water available than by the amount of suitable soil. These districts support a large settled population and several considerable towns, of which Bet el Fakih and Zubed in the western and Lahej in the southern Tehama, with 4000 to 6000 inhabitants, are the most important. There are signs that this coastal strip was until a geologically recent period below sea-level; and that the coast-line is still receding is evidenced by the history of the town of Muza, once a flourishing port, now 20 m. inland; while Bet el Fakih and Zubed, once important centres of the coffee trade, have lost their position through the silting up of the ports which formerly served them.

The lowland strip or Tehama is made up of a gravelly plain, the Khabt, which has a few acacia and other desert shrubs and trees, providing grazing land for large herds of goats and camels. It's also partly made up of barren sandy areas like the Ramla, which stretches on both sides of Aden almost from the sea to the base of the hills. However, not all of the Tehama is desert; mountain streams that flow into the plain have created large areas of highly fertile alluvial soil, allowing for two or even three crops a year in that warm, stable climate. Floodwater is managed by a system of dams and channels designed to make the most of every drop, and the amount of farming is more restricted by the water supply available than by the quality of the soil. These regions support a large settled population and several significant towns, with Bet el Fakih and Zubed in the west and Lahej in the south, each having between 4,000 to 6,000 residents, being the most notable. There are indications that this coastal strip was below sea level until relatively recently, and the fact that the coastline is still retreating is shown by the history of the town of Muza, which was once a thriving port but is now 20 miles inland. Additionally, Bet el Fakih and Zubed, which were once key centers of the coffee trade, have lost their prominence due to the silting up of the ports that served them.

The jebel or mountain-land is, however, the typical Yemen, the Arabia Felix of the ancients. Deep valleys winding through the barren foothills lead gradually up to the higher mountains, and as the track ascends the scenery and vegetation change their character; the trees which line the banks of the wadi are overgrown with creepers, and the running stream is dammed at frequent intervals, and led off in artificial channels to irrigate the fields on either side; the steeper parts of the road are paved with large stones, substantially built villages, with their masonry towers or dars, crowning every height, replace the collection of mud walls and brushwood huts of the low country; while tier above tier, terraced fields cover the hill slopes and attest the industry of the inhabitants and the fertility of their mountains. On the main route from Hodeda to Sana the first coffee plantations are reached at Usil, at an altitude of 4300 ft., and throughout the western slopes of the range up to an altitude of 7000 ft. it is the most important crop. Jebel Haraz, of which Manakha, a small town of 3000 inhabitants is the chief place, is described by Glaser as one vast coffee garden. Here the traveller ascending from the coast sees the first example of the jebel or highland towns, with their high three-storeyed houses, built of quarried stone, their narrow façades pierced with small windows with whitewashed borders and ornamented with varied arabesque patterns; each dar has the appearance of a small castle complete in itself, and the general effect is rather that of a cluster of separate forts than of a town occupied by a united community.

The mountain region, or jebel, is the true essence of Yemen, the Arabia Felix of ancient times. Deep valleys winding through the rocky foothills lead gradually up to the higher peaks, and as the path ascends, the scenery and vegetation change. The trees lining the banks of the wadi are tangled with creepers, and the flowing stream is dammed at regular intervals, diverted into artificial channels to irrigate the fields on either side. The steeper parts of the road are paved with large stones, and sturdy villages, marked by their masonry towers or dars, crown every rise, replacing the mud walls and brushwood huts found in the lowlands. Tier upon tier, terraced fields cover the hillsides, showcasing the hard work of the locals and the fertility of their mountains. On the main route from Hodeda to Sana, the first coffee plantations are discovered at Usil, located at an elevation of 4300 ft., and throughout the western slopes of the range, extending up to 7000 ft., coffee is the primary crop. Jebel Haraz, with Manakha as its main town of about 3000 residents, is described by Glaser as one massive coffee garden. Here, travelers coming from the coast encounter the first examples of highland towns, featuring tall three-story houses made of quarried stone, with narrow facades pierced by small windows framed in whitewash and decorated with various arabesque patterns; each dar looks like a small castle, standing alone, giving the overall impression of a cluster of separate forts rather than a town inhabited by a cohesive community.

The scenery in this mountain region is of the most varied description; bare precipitous hill-sides seamed with dry, rocky watercourses give place with almost startling rapidity to fertile slopes, terraced literally for thousands of feet. General Haig in describing them says: “One can hardly realize the enormous labour, toil and perseverance that these represent; the terrace walls are usually 5 to 8 ft. in height, but towards the top of the mountains they are sometimes as much as 15 or 18 ft.; they are built entirely of rough stone without mortar, and I reckon that on an average each wall retains not more than twice its own height in breadth, and I do not think I saw a single break in them unrepaired.”

The scenery in this mountain area is incredibly diverse; steep, bare hillsides with dry, rocky riverbeds quickly give way to fertile slopes that are terraced for thousands of feet. General Haig describes them by saying: “It's hard to grasp the immense labor, effort, and perseverance that went into these; the terrace walls are usually 5 to 8 feet high, but near the mountain tops, they can be as tall as 15 or 18 feet. They're made entirely of rough stone without any mortar, and I estimate that on average, each wall is about twice as wide as its height, and I don't think I saw a single break that wasn't repaired.”

The highest summits as determined by actual survey are between 10,000 and 11,000 ft. above sea-level. J. Sabur, a conspicuous mass in the extreme south, is 9900 ft., with a fall to the Taiz valley of 5000 ft.; farther north several points in the mountains above Ibb and Yarim attain a height of 10,500 ft., and J. Hadur, near the Sana-Hodeda road, exceeds 10,000 ft. From the crest of the range there is a short drop of 2000 or 3000 ft. to the broad open valleys which form the principal feature of the inner plateau. The town of Yarim lies near its southern extremity at an altitude of about 8000 ft.; within a short distance are the sources of the W. Yakla, W. Bana and W. Zubed, running respectively east and south and west. The first named is a dry watercourse ultimately joining the basin of the W. Hadramut; the two others run for a long distance through fertile valleys and, like many of the wadis on the seaward side of the range, have perennial streams down to within a few miles of the sea. Sana, the capital of Yemen, lies in a broad valley 7300 ft. above sea-level, sloping northwards to the W. Kharid which, with the Ghail Hirran, the sources of which are on the eastern slopes of J. Hadur, run north-eastward to the Jauf depression. The Arhab district, through which these two great wadis run, was formerly the centre of the Himyar kingdom; cultivation is now only to be found in the lower parts on the borders of the watercourses, all above being naked rock from which every particle of soil has been denuded. In the higher parts there are fine plains where Glaser found numerous Himyaritic remains, and which he considers were undoubtedly cultivated formerly, but they have long fallen out of cultivation owing to denudation and desiccation—the impoverishment of the country from these causes is increasing. Eastward the plateau becomes still more sterile, and its elevation probably falls more rapidly till it reaches the level of the Jauf and Nejran valleys on the borders of the desert. The water-parting between central and southern Arabia seems to be somewhere to the south of Nejran, which, according to Halévy, drains northward to the W. Dawasir, while the Jauf is either an isolated depression, or perhaps forms part of the Hadramut basin.

The highest peaks, as determined by actual surveys, are between 10,000 and 11,000 feet above sea level. J. Sabur, a notable mass in the far south, stands at 9,900 feet, dropping 5,000 feet to the Taiz valley; further north, several points in the mountains above Ibb and Yarim reach heights of 10,500 feet, and J. Hadur, near the Sana-Hodeda road, exceeds 10,000 feet. From the ridge of the range, there is a quick drop of 2,000 to 3,000 feet into the broad open valleys that characterize the inner plateau. The town of Yarim sits near its southern edge at about 8,000 feet; nearby are the sources of W. Yakla, W. Bana, and W. Zubed, flowing respectively to the east, south, and west. The first is a dry watercourse that eventually connects to the W. Hadramut basin; the other two flow for long distances through fertile valleys and, like many of the wadis on the seaside of the range, have year-round streams extending within a few miles of the ocean. Sana, the capital of Yemen, is located in a wide valley at 7,300 feet above sea level, sloping north toward the W. Kharid, which, along with the Ghail Hirran—whose sources are on the eastern slopes of J. Hadur—flows northeast to the Jauf depression. The Arhab district, through which these two major wadis flow, was once the heart of the Himyar kingdom; farming is now only found in the lower areas near the watercourses, while higher up is bare rock that has lost all its soil. In the upper regions, there are beautiful plains where Glaser discovered many Himyaritic remains, which he believes were undoubtedly cultivated in the past, but they have long been abandoned due to erosion and drying out—this decline in the land is worsening. To the east, the plateau becomes even more barren, and its elevation probably decreases more quickly until it levels off at the Jauf and Nejran valleys near the desert. The water divide between central and southern Arabia appears to be located somewhere south of Nejran, which, according to Halévy, drains north to the W. Dawasir, while the Jauf is either an isolated dip or possibly part of the Hadramut basin.

Farther north, in Asir, the plateau is more mountainous and contains many fertile valleys. Of these may be mentioned Khamis Mishet and the Wadi Shahran rising among the high summits of the maritime chain, and the principal affluents Asir. of the Wadi Besha; the latter is a broad well-watered valley, with numerous scattered hamlets, four days’ journey (perhaps 80 m.) from the crest of the range. Still farther north is the Wadi Taraba and its branches running down from the highland district of Zahran. The lower valleys produce dates in abundance, and at higher elevations wheat, barley, millets and excellent fruit are grown, while juniper forests are said to cover the mountain slopes. In Yemen this tree was probably more common formerly; the place-name Arar, signifying juniper, is still often found where the tree no longer exists.

Farther north, in Asir, the plateau is more mountainous and features many fertile valleys. Among these are Khamis Mishet and the Wadi Shahran, which rise among the high peaks of the coastal range, as well as the main tributaries of the Wadi Besha; the latter is a wide, well-watered valley filled with numerous scattered villages, located four days’ journey (about 80 miles) from the top of the range. Even further north is the Wadi Taraba and its branches flowing down from the elevated Zahran district. The lower valleys yield plenty of dates, while at higher elevations, wheat, barley, millet, and excellent fruits are cultivated, and juniper forests are said to cover the mountain slopes. In Yemen, this tree was likely more prevalent in the past; the place-name Arar, which means juniper, is still often found in areas where the tree no longer grows.

The western coast of Yemen, like that of Hejaz, is studded with shoals and islands, of which Perim in the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, Kamaran, the Turkish quarantine post, 40 m. north of Hodeda, and the Farsan group, off the Abu Arish coast, Coast of Yemen. are the principal. Hodeda is the only port of any importance since the days of steamships began; the other ports, Mokha, Lohaia and Kanfuda merely share in the coasting trade. The south coast is free from the shoals that imperil the navigation of the Red Sea, and in Aden it possesses the only safe natural harbour on the route between Suez and India. Several isolated volcanic hills crop out on the shore line between Aden and the straits; the most remarkable are J. Kharaz, 2500 ft., and J. Shamshan, 1700 ft., at the base of which Aden itself is built. In both of these the crater form is very clearly marked. A low maritime plain, similar to the Tehama of the western coast, extends for some 200 m. east of the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, backed by mountains rising to 7000 ft. or more; farther east the elevation of the highland decreases steadily, and in Hadramut. the Hadramut, north of Mukalla, does not much exceed 4000 ft. The mountain chain, too, is less distinctly marked, and becomes little more than the seaward escarpment of the plateau which intervenes between the coast and the Hadramut valley. This valley runs nearly east and west for a distance of 500 m. from the eastern slopes of the Yemen highlands to its mouth on the Mahra coast near Sihut. The greater part of it is desert, but a short stretch lying between the 48th and 50th meridians is well watered and exceptionally fertile. This begins a little to the east of Shabwa, the ancient capital, now half buried in the advancing sand, and for a distance of over 70 m. a succession of villages and towns surrounded by fields and date groves extends along the main valley and into the tributaries which join it from the south. Shibam, Saiyun and Tarim are towns of 6000 or more inhabitants, and Hajren and Haura in the W. Duwan are among the larger villages. Himyaritic remains have been found here and in the W. Mefat which enters the Gulf of Aden near Balhaf. A few small fishing villages or ports are scattered along the coast, but except Mukalla and Shihr none is of any importance.

The western coast of Yemen, similar to that of Hejaz, is dotted with shoals and islands, with Perim in the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, Kamaran, the Turkish quarantine station 40 miles north of Hodeda, and the Farsan group off the Abu Arish coast being the most significant. Hodeda is the only important port since the steamship era began; the other ports, Mokha, Lohaia, and Kanfuda, mainly participate in the coastal trade. The southern coast is free from the shoals that threaten navigation in the Red Sea, and in Aden, it has the only safe natural harbor on the route between Suez and India. Several isolated volcanic hills rise along the shoreline between Aden and the straits; the most notable are J. Kharaz, at 2,500 feet, and J. Shamshan, at 1,700 feet, at the base of which Aden itself is situated. The crater forms of both are clearly visible. A low coastal plain, similar to the Tehama of the western coast, stretches about 200 miles east of the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, backed by mountains rising to 7,000 feet or more; further east, the elevation of the highland consistently decreases, and in the Hadramut, north of Mukalla, it doesn’t exceed 4,000 feet. The mountain range is also less pronounced, becoming little more than the seaward slope of the plateau between the coast and the Hadramut valley. This valley runs nearly east and west for about 500 miles from the eastern slopes of the Yemen highlands to its mouth on the Mahra coast near Sihut. Most of it is desert, but a section between the 48th and 50th meridians is well-watered and exceptionally fertile. This area begins just east of Shabwa, the ancient capital, which is now half buried in advancing sand, and for over 70 miles, a series of villages and towns surrounded by fields and date groves extends along the main valley and tributaries that flow into it from the south. Shibam, Saiyun, and Tarim are towns with populations of 6,000 or more, while Hajren and Haura in W. Duwan are among the larger villages. Himyaritic remains have been found here and in the W. Mefat, which enters the Gulf of Aden near Balhaf. A few small fishing villages or ports are scattered along the coast, but apart from Mukalla and Shihr, none are significant.

The Gara coast was visited by the Bents, who went inland from Dhafar, one of the centres of the old frankincense trade, to the crest of the plateau. The narrow coastal strip seems to be moderately fertile, and the hills which in places come down to the seashore are covered with trees, among which the frankincense and other gum-bearing trees are found. On the plateau, which has an altitude of 4000 ft., there is good pasturage; inland the country slopes gently to a broad valley beyond which the view was bounded by the level horizon of the desert.

The Gara coast was visited by the Bents, who traveled inland from Dhafar, one of the key hubs of the old frankincense trade, to the top of the plateau. The narrow coastal area appears to be fairly fertile, and the hills that sometimes reach down to the shoreline are filled with trees, including frankincense and other gum-producing varieties. On the plateau, which is 4,000 ft high, there's good grazing land; further inland, the land gently slopes down to a wide valley, beyond which the view is limited by the flat horizon of the desert.

Oman (q.v.) includes all the south-eastern corner of the peninsula. Its chief feature is the lofty range of J. Akhdar, 10,000 ft. above sea-level. Like the great range of western Arabia, it runs parallel to the coast; it differs, however, from the western Oman. range in that its fall on the landward side is as abrupt and nearly as great as on its seaward side. Its northern extremity, Ras Musandan, rises precipitously from the straits of Hormuz; farther south the range curves inland somewhat, leaving a narrow but fertile strip, known as the Batina coast, between it and the sea, and containing several populous towns and villages of which Sohar, Barka and Sib are the chief. Muscat, the capital of the province and the principal port on the coast, is surrounded on three sides by bare, rocky hills, and has the reputation of being the hottest place in 260 Arabia. Zwemer says the fertility of the highland region of J. Akhdar is wonderful and is in striking contrast to the barrenness of so much of the coast; water issues in perennial springs from many rocky clefts, and is carefully husbanded by the ingenuity of the people; underground channels, known here as faluj, precisely similar to the kanat or karez of Persia and Afghanistan, are also largely used. The principal villages on the eastern slopes are Rustak, Nakhl and Semail in the well-watered valley of the same name; on the western slopes are Tanuf and Nizwa, lying immediately below the highest summit of the range; Semed, Ibra and Bidiya in the W. Betha are all well-built villages with palm-groves and irrigated fields. In the north-west the Dhahira district sloping towards the Jewasimi coast is more steppe-like in character; but there two oases of great fertility are found, of which Birema, visited by both Miles and Zwemer, supports a population of 15,000. West of Abu Dhabi a low flat steppe with no settled inhabitants extends up to the Katr peninsula, merging on the north into the saline marshes which border the Persian Gulf, and on the south into the desert.

Oman (q.v.) includes the entire southeastern corner of the peninsula. Its main feature is the high Jebel Akhdar range, which stands 10,000 ft. above sea level. Like the large mountain range in western Arabia, it runs parallel to the coast; however, it differs from the western range in that its slope on the landward side is almost as steep and nearly as significant as on its seaward side. Its northern end, Ras Musandan, rises sharply from the Strait of Hormuz; further south, the range bends slightly inland, leaving a narrow but fertile area known as the Batina coast between it and the sea, which is home to several thriving towns and villages, with Sohar, Barka, and Sib being the most notable. Muscat, the capital of the province and the main port along the coast, is surrounded on three sides by bare, rocky hills and is known for being the hottest place in 260 Arabia. Zwemer notes that the fertility of the Jebel Akhdar highlands is impressive and stands in stark contrast to the barrenness of much of the coast; water flows from many rocky crevices in persistent springs and is carefully managed by the resourcefulness of the people. Underground channels, called faluj, are similar to the kanat or karez found in Persia and Afghanistan and are used extensively. The main villages on the eastern slopes are Rustak, Nakhl, and Semail, situated in the well-watered valley of the same name; on the western slopes are Tanuf and Nizwa, located right below the highest peak of the range; Semed, Ibra, and Bidiya in Wadi Betha are all well-built villages featuring palm groves and irrigated fields. In the northwest, the Dhahira district, sloping toward the Jewasimi coast, has a more steppe-like character; however, there are two very fertile oases found there, one of which, Birema, visited by both Miles and Zwemer, supports a population of 15,000. West of Abu Dhabi, a low flat steppe with no permanent inhabitants stretches up to the Katr peninsula, merging to the north with the salt marshes bordering the Persian Gulf and to the south with the desert.

The great desert known as the Dahna or the Rub’a el Khali (“the empty quarter”) is believed to cover all the interior of southern Arabia from the borders of Yemen in the west to those of Oman in the east. Halévy in Nejran, Von Wrede in The southern desert. Hadramut, and Wellsted in Oman reached its edge, though none of them actually entered it, and the guides accompanying them all concurred in describing it as uninhabitable and uncrossed by any track. Its northern fringe is no doubt frequented by the Bedouin tribes of southern Nejd after the rains, when its sands, like those of the northern desert, produce herbage; but towards the east, according to Burckhardt’s information, it is quite without vegetation even in the winter and spring. The farthest habitable spot to the south of Nejd is the Wadi Yabrin, which L. Pelly heard of from the Ahl Murra Bedouins as once a fertile district, and which still produces dates, though, owing to malaria, it is now deserted; thence southward to the Hadramut valley no communication is known to exist.

The vast desert known as the Dahna or the Rub’a el Khali (“the empty quarter”) is thought to span the entire interior of southern Arabia, from the Yemen border in the west to the Oman border in the east. Halévy in Nejran, Von Wrede in Hadramut, and Wellsted in Oman reached its edge, but none of them actually ventured in, and the guides with them all agreed that it was uninhabitable and had no paths crossing through it. Its northern edge is likely visited by the Bedouin tribes of southern Nejd after the rains, when its sands, similar to those of the northern desert, produce some greenery; however, further east, according to Burckhardt's observations, it lacks any vegetation even in the winter and spring. The furthest livable area south of Nejd is the Wadi Yabrin, which L. Pelly learned about from the Ahl Murra Bedouins as once being a fertile region, and it still produces dates, but due to malaria, it is now abandoned; from there southward to the Hadramut valley, no communication is known to exist.

[Geology.—The geological structure of Arabia is very similar to that of Egypt. The oldest rocks consist of granite and schist, penetrated by intrusive dykes, and upon this foundation rest the flat-lying sedimentary deposits, beginning with a sandstone like the Nubian sandstone of Egypt. In the northern part of Arabia the crystalline rocks form a broad area extending from the peninsula of Sinai eastwards to Hail and southwards at least as far as Mecca. Towards the north the crystalline floor is overlaid by the great sandstone series which covers nearly the whole of the country north of Hail. Upon the sandstone rest a few scattered outliers of limestone, probably of Cretaceous age, the largest of which occur near Jauf and east of Bureda. Over both sandstone and granite great sheets of lava have been poured, and these, protecting the softer beds beneath from further denudation, now stand up as the high plateaus and hills called harra. Volcanic cones still exist in large numbers, and the sheets of lava appear as fresh as any recent flows of Etna or Vesuvius. Arabian manuscripts describe an eruption on the harra near Medina in A.D. 1256. In the south of Arabia the crystalline floor appears at intervals along the southern coast and on the shores of the Gulf of Oman. At Marbat the granite is overlaid by sandstone, presumably the Nubian sandstone: this is followed by marls containing Cenomanian fossils; and these are overlaid by Upper Cretaceous limestones, upon which rest isolated patches of Alveolina limestone. Generally, however, the Cretaceous beds do not appear, and the greater part of southern Arabia seems to be formed of Alveolina and nummulite limestones of Tertiary age. An extinct volcano occurs at Aden, and volcanic rocks are found at other places near the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. Throughout the whole of Arabia, so far as is known, the sedimentary beds show no signs of any but the most gentle folding. Faulting, however, is by no means absent, and some of the faults are of considerable magnitude. The Gulf of Akaba is a strip of country which has been let down between two parallel faults, and several similar faulted troughs occur in the Sinai peninsula. The Red Sea itself is a great trough bounded by faults along each side.]

Geology.—The geological structure of Arabia is quite similar to that of Egypt. The oldest rocks are made up of granite and schist, which are cut through by intrusive dykes, and on top of this foundation lie the flat sedimentary deposits, starting with sandstone similar to the Nubian sandstone in Egypt. In northern Arabia, the crystalline rocks create a wide region that stretches from the Sinai Peninsula eastward to Hail and southward at least to Mecca. In the north, the crystalline bedrock is covered by the extensive sandstone series that spans almost the entire area north of Hail. On top of the sandstone, there are a few scattered limestone formations, likely from the Cretaceous period, with the largest found near Jauf and east of Bureda. Both the sandstone and granite are topped by large sheets of lava, which protect the softer layers beneath from further erosion, resulting in the high plateaus and hills known as harra. Numerous volcanic cones still exist, and the sheets of lava look as fresh as any recent eruptions from Etna or Vesuvius. Arabic manuscripts record an eruption on the harra near Medina in CE 1256. In southern Arabia, the crystalline base is visible at intervals along the southern coast and on the shores of the Gulf of Oman. At Marbat, the granite is covered by sandstone, presumably the Nubian sandstone, which is followed by marls containing Cenomanian fossils, and then by Upper Cretaceous limestones, upon which isolated patches of Alveolina limestone sit. However, the Cretaceous layers generally do not appear, and much of southern Arabia seems to consist of Alveolina and nummulite limestones from the Tertiary period. An extinct volcano is located at Aden, and volcanic rocks can be found in other areas near the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. Throughout Arabia, as far as is known, the sedimentary layers show no signs of significant folding. However, faulting is present, and some of the faults are quite large. The Gulf of Akaba is a region that has subsided between two parallel faults, and several similar faulted basins can be found in the Sinai Peninsula. The Red Sea itself is a vast trough bordered by faults on both sides.

Climate.—Owing to its low latitude and generally arid surface, Arabia is on the whole one of the hottest regions of the earth; this is especially the case along the coasts of the Persian Gulf and the southern half of the Red Sea, where the moist heat throughout the year is almost intolerable to Europeans. In the interior of northern and central Arabia, however, where the average level of the country exceeds 3000 ft., the fiery heat of the summer days is followed by cool nights, and the winter climate is fresh and invigorating; while in the highlands of Asir and Yemen in the south-west, and of Oman in the east, the summer heat is never excessive, and the winters are, comparatively speaking, cold.

Climate.—Because of its low latitude and mostly dry landscape, Arabia is generally one of the hottest places on earth. This is especially true along the coasts of the Persian Gulf and the southern part of the Red Sea, where the humid heat year-round can be nearly unbearable for Europeans. In the interior of northern and central Arabia, though, where the average elevation is over 3000 ft., the intense heat of summer days is followed by cool nights, and the winter weather is fresh and refreshing. Meanwhile, in the highlands of Asir and Yemen in the southwest, and Oman in the east, summer heat is never too extreme, and winters are relatively cold.

In the northern desert the temperature is subject to extreme variations. Nolde states that on the 1st of February 1893 in the desert north of Hail the thermometer fell from 78° a little before sunset to 18° a quarter of an hour after. The midday temperatures recorded by Huber at Hail during January and the first half of February average about 65° F., and water froze on several nights; at Medina the winters are cold and night frosts of frequent occurrence, and these conditions prevail over all the western part of the Nejd plateau. In the east where the elevation is lower the climate is warmer. In the elevated highland district which extends from Taif to within 50 m. of Aden, the summer heat is tempered by the monsoon winds, and the seasonal variation of temperature is less marked. From observations made at Sana by Manzoni, Deflers and Glaser, the mean temperature for the year of that city at an altitude of 7300 ft. and in 15° 22′ N. appears to be 60° F.; for July the mean maximum was 77°, mean minimum 54°; for January the figures were 62°and 40° respectively, the lowest recorded temperature in 1878 was 26.6° on the 26th of January. At Aden at the sea-level the mean temperature for the year is 83°; the highest observed temperature in 1904 was 97.3°, the lowest 67.4°.

In the northern desert, the temperature can change dramatically. Nolde notes that on February 1, 1893, in the desert north of Hail, the thermometer dropped from 78°F just before sunset to 18°F just 15 minutes later. Huber recorded midday temperatures in Hail during January and the first half of February averaging about 65°F, and water froze on several nights. In Medina, winters are cold with frequent night frosts, and these conditions are typical throughout the entire western part of the Nejd plateau. In the east, where the elevation is lower, the climate is warmer. In the highland region that stretches from Taif to about 50 miles from Aden, summer heat is moderated by monsoon winds, resulting in less pronounced seasonal temperature changes. Observations made at Sana by Manzoni, Deflers, and Glaser indicate that the average temperature for the year in that city, located at an altitude of 7,300 feet and 15° 22′ N, is about 60°F; for July, the average maximum was 77°F and the average minimum was 54°F; for January, the figures were 62°F and 40°F respectively, with the lowest recorded temperature being 26.6°F on January 26, 1878. At sea level in Aden, the average yearly temperature is 83°F; the highest temperature recorded in 1904 was 97.3°F, while the lowest was 67.4°F.

The rainfall throughout northern and central Arabia is chiefly in the winter months between October and April, and is scanty and irregular. Doughty states that in 1876 rain to wet the ground had not fallen for three years at Medain Salih; in that year showers fell on the 29th of December and on two days in January and again in March. After a very hot summer the bright weather changed to clouded skies on the 2nd of October, rain fell tempestuously the same evening, and there were showery days and nights till the 14th. The autumn rains fell that year abundantly in the Nafud towards Jauf, but very little in the basin of the W. Hamd (on the western slope). Doughty adds that the Nejd highlands between Kasim and Mecca are watered yearly by seasonable rains, which at Taif are expected about the end of August and last commonly from four to six weeks. This appears to be about the northern limit reached by the south-west monsoon, which from June to September brings a fairly abundant rainfall to the Yemen highlands, though the Tehama remains almost entirely rainless. The rainfall is heaviest along the western fringe of the plateau, and penetrates inland in decreasing quantity over a zone which perhaps extends to 100 m. in width. In good seasons it is sufficient for the cultivation of the summer crop of millet, and for the supply of the perennial streams and springs, on which the irrigation of the winter crops of wheat and barley depend. The amount measured at Dhala at the extreme south of the plateau at an elevation of 4800 ft. was in 1902 as follows:—June, 4.0 in.; July, 5.5; August, 5.8; September, 1.9. Only slight showers were recorded in the other months of the year. At higher elevations the rainfall is no doubt heavier; Manzoni mentions that at Sana there was constant rain throughout August and September 1878, and that the thermometer during August did not reach 65°. In the Tehama occasional showers fall during the winter months; at Aden the average rainfall for the year is 2.97 in., but during 1904 only 0.5 in. was recorded. Snow falls on the Harra and on the Tehama range in northern Arabia, and Nolde records a fall of snow which lay on the Nafud on the 1st of February 1893. It also falls on J. Akhdar in Oman, but is very rarely known on the Yemen mountains, probably because the precipitation during the winter months is so slight.

The rainfall in northern and central Arabia mainly occurs during the winter months from October to April, and it is limited and inconsistent. Doughty notes that in 1876, there hadn’t been enough rain to wet the ground at Medain Salih for three years; that year, showers fell on December 29th, then on two days in January and again in March. After a very hot summer, the clear skies turned cloudy on October 2nd, with heavy rain that evening, leading to rainy days and nights until the 14th. The autumn rains that year were plentiful in the Nafud towards Jauf, but very little fell in the basin of W. Hamd (on the western side). Doughty adds that the Nejd highlands between Kasim and Mecca receive seasonal rains each year, which in Taif are expected around the end of August and usually last four to six weeks. This seems to mark the northern limit of the southwest monsoon, which brings a fairly abundant rainfall to the Yemen highlands from June to September, although the Tehama area remains almost entirely dry. The heaviest rainfall occurs along the western edge of the plateau and decreases inland across an area that might stretch to 100 miles wide. In good years, this is enough to grow summer millet crops and provide water for the perennial streams and springs that irrigate winter wheat and barley. In 1902, at Dhala, located at the southern tip of the plateau at an elevation of 4,800 feet, the recorded rainfall was: June, 4.0 inches; July, 5.5; August, 5.8; September, 1.9. Only light rain was noted in the other months. At higher elevations, the rainfall is indeed heavier; Manzoni mentions that in Sana, there was constant rain throughout August and September 1878, and the temperature in August didn’t rise above 65°F. In the Tehama, occasional showers happened during the winter months; at Aden, the average annual rainfall is 2.97 inches, but only 0.5 inches was recorded in 1904. Snow falls on the Harra and the Tehama range in northern Arabia, and Nolde reported a snowfall that covered the Nafud on February 1, 1893. It also falls on J. Akhdar in Oman, but is very rarely seen in the Yemen mountains, likely due to the minimal precipitation during the winter months.

The prevailing winds in northern Arabia as far as is known are from the west; along the southern coast they are from the east; at Sana there is generally a light breeze from the north-north-west from 9 to 11 A.M., from noon till 4 P.M. a steady and often strong wind blows from the south-south-east, which dies away later. The climate is extremely dry, but this is compensated for by the heavy mists which sweep up from the plains during the rainless months and exercise a most beneficial effect in the coffee-growing districts. This phenomenon is known as the sukhemani or amama. In the morning the Tehama, as seen from the mountain tops, appears buried in a sea of white cloud; towards noon the clouds drift up the mountain slopes and cover the summits with wreaths of light mist charged with moisture which condenses on the trees and vegetation; in the afternoon they disappear, and the evenings are generally clear and still.

The main winds in northern Arabia are known to come from the west; along the southern coast, they blow from the east. In Sana, there’s usually a light breeze from the north-northwest from 9 to 11 AM, and from noon until 4 PM, a steady and often strong wind blows from the south-southeast, which calms down later. The climate is really dry, but this is balanced out by the heavy mists that sweep in from the plains during the dry months, which have a very positive effect in the coffee-growing areas. This phenomenon is known as the sukhemani or amama. In the morning, the Tehama, as seen from the mountain tops, seems to be covered in a sea of white cloud; around noon, the clouds drift up the mountain slopes and wrap the peaks in light mist full of moisture that condenses on the trees and plants; in the afternoon, they disappear, and the evenings are usually clear and calm.

Fauna.—The wild animals of Arabia are all of the desert-loving type: antelopes and gazelles are found in small numbers throughout the peninsula; the latter are similar to the chikara or ravine deer of India. The larger antelopes, so common on the African side of the Gulf of Aden, are not found, except one variety, the Oryx beatrix (called by the Arabs, wild cow), which is an inhabitant of the Nafud between Tema and Hail; it is about the size of a donkey, white, and with long straight horns. Hares are numerous both in the desert and in cultivated tracts. In the Yemen mountains the wal, a wild goat with massive horns, similar to the Kashmir ibex, is found; monkeys also abound. Among smaller animals the jerboa and other descriptions of rat, and the wabar or cony are common; lizards and snakes are numerous, most of the latter being venomous. Hyenas, wolves and panthers are found in most parts of the country, and in the mountains the leopard and wild cat. Of birds the ostrich is found in the Nafud and in the W. Dawasir. Among game birds the bustard, guinea fowl, sand grouse (kata), blue rock, green pigeon, partridge, including a large chikor (akb) and a small species similar to the Punjab sisi; quail and several kinds of duck and snipe are met with. In the cultivated parts of Yemen and Tehama small birds are very numerous, so also are birds of prey, vultures, kites and hawks.

Fauna.—The wild animals of Arabia are mostly desert-dwelling types: antelopes and gazelles are found in small numbers throughout the peninsula; the latter resemble the chikara or ravine deer of India. The larger antelopes, which are common on the African side of the Gulf of Aden, are mostly absent, except for one type, the Oryx beatrix (referred to by the Arabs as wild cow), which lives in the Nafud between Tema and Hail; it is about the size of a donkey, white, and has long straight horns. Hares are plentiful both in the desert and in cultivated areas. In the mountains of Yemen, the wal, a wild goat with massive horns similar to the Kashmir ibex, can be found; monkeys are also common. Among smaller animals, the jerboa and various types of rats, as well as the wabar or cony, are frequently seen; lizards and snakes are abundant, most of the latter being venomous. Hyenas, wolves, and panthers are found in many areas of the country, and in the mountains, there are leopards and wildcats. The ostrich can be seen in the Nafud and in the W. Dawasir. Game birds include the bustard, guinea fowl, sand grouse (kata), blue rock, green pigeon, partridge, including a large chikor (akb) and a smaller species similar to the Punjab sisi; quail and several kinds of ducks and snipe are also present. In the cultivated areas of Yemen and Tehama, small birds are very numerous, as are birds of prey, including vultures, kites, and hawks.

Insects of all sorts abound; scorpions, centipedes, spiders, and an ugly but harmless millipede known in Yemen as hablub are very common in summer. Ants and beetles too are very numerous, and anthills are prominent features in many places. Locusts appear in great swarms and do much damage; fires are lighted at night 261 to attract them, and large quantities are caught and eaten by the poorer people. Bees are kept, and in Yemen and Hadramut the honey is exceptionally good.

Insects of all kinds are everywhere; scorpions, centipedes, spiders, and an ugly but harmless millipede called hablub in Yemen are quite common in the summer. Ants and beetles are also very plentiful, and anthills can be seen in many areas. Locusts appear in massive swarms and cause a lot of damage; fires are lit at night 261 to attract them, and large amounts are caught and eaten by poorer people. Beekeeping is common, and in Yemen and Hadramut, the honey is particularly good.

Of domesticated animals the camel is far the most useful to the Arab. Owing to its endurance of thirst the long desert journeys which separate the populous centres are made practicable, and in the spring months, when green forage is plentiful Camel. in the desert, the Bedouins pitch their camps for long periods far from any water, and not only men but horses subsist on camel’s milk. The Arabian camel belongs to the one-humped species, though there are many varieties differing in appearance as much as the thoroughbred race-horse from the English cart-horse. The ordinary load for a pack camel is about 400 ℔, and in hot weather good camels will march 20 to 25 m. daily and only require water every third or fourth day: in cool weather, with ample green fodder they can go twenty-five days or more without drinking. A good dalul or riding camel will carry his rider 100 m. a day for a week on end. Nolde gives an instance from his own experience of a camel rider covering 62 m. in seven hours. The pure-bred riding camel is only found in perfection in inner Arabia; for some unexplained reason when taken out of their own country or north of the 30th degree they rapidly degenerate.

Of domesticated animals, the camel is by far the most useful to the Arab. Because of its ability to endure thirst, long desert journeys that connect populated areas become possible. In the spring months, when there's plenty of green forage in the desert, the Bedouins set up their camps for extended periods far from any water sources, and both men and horses survive on camel’s milk. The Arabian camel is of the one-humped species, though there are many different types that vary in appearance, much like a thoroughbred racehorse compared to an English cart horse. The typical load for a pack camel is about 400 pounds, and in hot weather, well-conditioned camels can travel 20 to 25 miles each day and only need water every third or fourth day; in cooler weather, with enough green fodder, they can go 25 days or more without drinking. A good dalul or riding camel can carry its rider 100 miles a day for a week straight. Nolde shares an example from his own experience of a camel rider covering 62 miles in seven hours. The purebred riding camel is only found in its best form in inner Arabia; for some unknown reason, when they are taken out of their native land or north of the 30th parallel, they quickly lose their quality.

The horse does not occupy the important position in the Bedouin economy that is popularly supposed. In Nejd the number of horses is, comparatively speaking, very small; the want of water in the Nafud where alone forage is obtainable, Horse. and the absence of forage in the neighbourhood of the towns makes horse-breeding on a large scale impracticable there. Horses are in fact only kept by the principal sheiks, and by far the larger proportion of those now in Nejd are the property of the amir and his family. These are kept most of the year in the Nafud, five or ten days’ march from Hail, where they find their own food on the desert herbage. When a raid is in contemplation, they are brought in and given a little barley for a few weeks. Reared in this way they are capable of marvellous endurance, marching during a raid twenty hours a day for eight or ten days together. As a rule, they are only mounted at the moment of attack, or in pursuit. Water and forage have to be carried for them on camels.

The horse doesn't hold the prominent role in the Bedouin economy that many people think. In Nejd, the number of horses is relatively low; the lack of water in the Nafud, where forage is only available, and the absence of forage near the towns make large-scale horse breeding impractical. In fact, horses are mainly owned by the chief sheiks, and most of the ones in Nejd belong to the amir and his family. They are kept for most of the year in the Nafud, five to ten days' march from Hail, where they graze on desert plants. When a raid is planned, they are brought in and given a bit of barley for a few weeks. Raised this way, they can endure incredible distances, marching for twenty hours a day during a raid for eight to ten days straight. Generally, they are only ridden at the moment of attack or while pursuing. Water and forage have to be transported for them on camels.

The great majority of the horses that come into the market as Arabs, are bred in the northern desert and in Mesopotamia, by the various sections of the Aneza and Shammar tribes, who emigrated from Nejd generations ago, taking with them the original Nejd stock. In size and appearance, and in everything but endurance, these northern horses are admittedly superior to the true Nejdi. A few of the latter are collected by dealers in the nomad camps and exported chiefly from Kuwet. The amir Mahommed Ibn Rashid used to send down about one hundred young horses yearly.

The vast majority of horses marketed as Arabs are actually bred in the northern desert and Mesopotamia by different groups of the Aneza and Shammar tribes, who migrated from Nejd many years ago, bringing the original Nejd stock with them. In terms of size, appearance, and everything except endurance, these northern horses are clearly superior to the genuine Nejdi. A few of the true Nejdi horses are gathered by dealers in the nomad camps and are primarily exported from Kuwait. Amir Mahommed Ibn Rashid used to send down around one hundred young horses each year.

Asses of excellent quality are bred all over the country; they are much used as mounts by the richer townsmen. Except in the settled districts horned cattle are not numerous; they are similar to the Indian humped cattle, but are greatly superior in milking qualities. The great wealth of the Arabs is in their flocks of sheep and goats; they are led out to pasture soon after sunrise, and in the hotter months drink every second day. In the spring when the succulent ashub and adar grow plentifully in the desert, they go for weeks without drinking. They are milked once a day about sunset by the women (the men milk the camels), and a large proportion of the milk is made into samn, clarified butter, or marisi, dried curd. The wool is not of much value, and is spun by the women and woven into rugs, and made up into saddlebags or into the black Bedouin tents.

Asses of high quality are bred all over the country and are commonly used as rides by wealthier townspeople. Outside of the settled areas, horned cattle are not very common; they resemble the humped cattle found in India but are significantly better for milking. The wealth of the Arabs comes from their herds of sheep and goats, which are taken out to graze shortly after sunrise, and in the hotter months, they drink every other day. In the spring, when the tender ashub and adar flourish in the desert, they can go for weeks without water. The women milk them once a day around sunset (the men handle the camels), and a large portion of the milk is turned into samn, clarified butter, or marisi, dried curd. The wool isn't very valuable; the women spin it and weave it into rugs, saddlebags, or use it to make the black Bedouin tents.

Flora.—The flora of Arabia has been investigated by P. Forskal, the botanist of Niebuhr’s mission, P.E. Botta, G. Schweinfurth and A. Deflers, to whose publications the technical reader is referred. Its general type approaches more closely to the African than to that of southern Asia. In the higher regions the principal trees are various species of fig, tamarind, carob and numerous kinds of cactiform Euphorbia, of which one, the Euphorbia arborea, grows to a height of 20 ft. Of Coniferae the juniper is found on the higher slopes of J. Sabur near Taiz, where Botta describes it as forming an extensive forest and growing to a large size; it is also found in the range overlooking the W. Madin, 50 m. W. of Aden. Considerable forests are said to exist in Asir, and Burton found a few fine specimens which he regarded as the remains of an old forest, on the Tehama range in Midian. On the rocky hill-sides in Yemen the Adenium Obesum is worthy of notice, with its enormous bulb-like stems and brilliant red flowers. Some fine aloes or agaves are also found. In the cultivated upland valleys all over Arabia the Zisyphus jujuba, called by some travellers lotus, grows to a large tree; its thorny branches are clipped yearly and used to fence the cornfields among which it grows. In the broad sandy wadi beds the tamarisk (athl) is everywhere found; its wood is used for making domestic implements of all sorts. Among fruit trees the vine, apricot, peach, apple, quince, fig and banana are cultivated in the highlands, and in the lower country the date palm flourishes, particularly throughout the central zone of Arabia, in Hejaz, Nejd and El Hasa, where it is the prime article of food. A hundred kinds of date are said to grow at Medina, of which the birni is considered the most wholesome; the halwa and the jalebi are the most delicately flavoured and sell at very high rates; the khulas of El Hasa is also much esteemed.

Flora.—The plant life of Arabia has been studied by P. Forskal, the botanist from Niebuhr’s mission, P.E. Botta, G. Schweinfurth, and A. Deflers, whose publications are recommended for more detailed information. Its overall characteristics are more similar to those of Africa than southern Asia. In the higher regions, the main trees include various types of fig, tamarind, carob, and many kinds of cactus-like Euphorbia, one of which, the Euphorbia arborea, can grow up to 20 ft tall. Among conifers, juniper can be found on the higher slopes of J. Sabur near Taiz, where Botta describes it as forming a large forest and growing significantly in size; it is also located in the range overlooking W. Madin, 50 miles west of Aden. There are reportedly substantial forests in Asir, and Burton found some impressive specimens that he believed were remnants of an ancient forest on the Tehama range in Midian. On the rocky hillsides of Yemen, the Adenium Obesum stands out with its huge bulbous stems and vibrant red flowers. Some beautiful aloes or agaves can also be found. In the cultivated upland valleys throughout Arabia, the Zisyphus jujuba, referred to as lotus by some travelers, grows into a large tree; its thorny branches are trimmed annually and used to enclose the cornfields where it grows. In the wide sandy wadi beds, tamarisk (athl) is found everywhere; its wood is utilized for making various domestic tools. Among fruit trees, the vine, apricot, peach, apple, quince, fig, and banana are cultivated in the highlands, whereas in the lower regions, the date palm thrives, especially in the central areas of Arabia, in Hejaz, Nejd, and El Hasa, where it is a main food source. It is said that a hundred varieties of dates grow in Medina, with the birni regarded as the healthiest; the halwa and jalebi are the most flavorful and fetch high prices, while the khulas from El Hasa is also highly valued.

Of cereals the common millets, dhura and dukhn, are grown in all parts of the country as the summer crop, and in the hot irrigated Tehama districts three crops are reaped in the year; in the highlands maize, wheat and barley are grown to a limited extent as the winter crop, ripening at the end of March or in April. Among vegetables the common kinds grown include radishes, pumpkins, cucumbers, melons, potatoes, onions and leeks. Roses are grown in some places for the manufacture of atr, or attar of roses; mignonette, jasmine, thyme, lavender and other aromatic plants are favourites in Yemen, when the Arabs often stick a bunch in their head-dress.

Of cereals, the common millets, dhura and dukhn, are cultivated throughout the country as a summer crop. In the hot, irrigated Tehama districts, three harvests are collected each year. In the highlands, maize, wheat, and barley are grown to a limited extent as a winter crop, ripening at the end of March or in April. Among vegetables, the typical varieties grown include radishes, pumpkins, cucumbers, melons, potatoes, onions, and leeks. Roses are cultivated in some areas for the production of atr, or rose attar. Mignonette, jasmine, thyme, lavender, and other aromatic plants are popular in Yemen, where Arabs often tuck a bunch into their head-dress.

Of the products special to Arabia coffee comes first; it is nowhere found wild, and is believed to have been introduced from Abyssinia in the 6th century A.D. It thrives on the seaward slopes of the western range in the zone of the tropical rains, at Coffee. altitudes between 4000 and 7000 ft. The principal centres of production are the upper valleys of the W. Surdad, between Kaukaban and Manakha, and particularly on J. Haraz; in the Wadi Zubed west of Uden; in Hajaria on the slopes of J. Sabur, and in the Yafa district north-east of Aden. It is planted in terraces on the mountain slopes; shady trees, such as tamarind and fig, are planted in the border as a protection from the sun, and the terraces are irrigated by channels led from a neighbouring rivulet or spring. The plants are raised from seedlings, and when six or seven weeks old they are transplanted in rows 4 to 6 ft. apart; they require watering twice a month, and bear in two to four years. The berries are dried in the sun and sent down to Hodeda or Aden, where they are subjected to a process for separating the husk from the bean; the result is about 50% of cleaned berries, bun safi, which is exported, and a residue of husk or kishr, from which the Yemenis make their favourite beverage.

Of the products unique to Arabia, coffee is the most important; it doesn't grow wild anywhere and is believed to have been brought over from Abyssinia in the 6th century A.D. It thrives on the coastal slopes of the western mountain range in the region with tropical rains, at altitudes between 4,000 and 7,000 ft. The main production areas are the upper valleys of the W. Surdad, located between Kaukaban and Manakha, particularly on J. Haraz; in the Wadi Zubed west of Uden; in Hajaria on the slopes of J. Sabur; and in the Yafa district northeast of Aden. Coffee is grown in terraces on the mountain slopes; shady trees like tamarind and fig are planted along the borders for sun protection, and the terraces are watered by channels that draw from nearby streams or springs. The plants are raised from seedlings, and when they are six or seven weeks old, they are transplanted in rows 4 to 6 ft. apart; they need watering twice a month and start bearing fruit in two to four years. The berries are dried in the sun and sent to Hodeda or Aden, where a process separates the husk from the bean; this yields about 50% of cleaned berries, bun safi, which is exported, and a residue of husk or kishr, from which Yemenis make their favorite drink.

Another plant universally used as a stimulant in Southern Arabia is khat (Catha edulis). The best is grown on J. Sabur and the mountainous country round Taiz. It is a small bush propagated from cuttings which are left to grow for three years; the leaves are then stripped, except a few buds which develop next year into young shoots, these being cut and sold in bunches under the name of khat mubarak; next year on the branches cut back new shoots grow; these are sold as khat malhani, or second-year kat, which commands the highest price. The bush is then left for three years, when the process is repeated. The leaves and young shoots are chewed; they have stimulating properties, comparable with those of the coca of Peru.

Another plant commonly used as a stimulant in Southern Arabia is khat (Catha edulis). The best varieties are grown on J. Sabur and the mountainous areas around Taiz. It's a small bush that is propagated from cuttings left to grow for three years. After that, the leaves are stripped off, except for a few buds that will turn into new shoots the following year. These are cut and sold in bunches under the name khat mubarak; the next year, new shoots grow on the cut branches and are sold as khat malhani, or second-year khat, which fetches the highest price. The bush is then left for another three years, and the process repeats. The leaves and young shoots are chewed; they have stimulating effects similar to those of coca from Peru.

The aromatic gums for which Arabia was famed in ancient times are still produced, though the trade is a very small one. The tree from which myrrh is extracted grows in many places, but the industry is chiefly carried on at Suda, 60 m. north-north-east of Sana. Longitudinal slits are made in the bark, and the gum is caught in cups fixed beneath. The balsam of Mecca is produced in the same way, chiefly in the mountains near the W. Safra between Yambu and Medina.

The fragrant resins that made Arabia famous in ancient times are still being produced, although the trade is quite minor now. The tree that yields myrrh grows in various locations, but the main production is at Suda, 60 miles north-north-east of Sana. Long cuts are made in the bark, and the gum is collected in cups placed underneath. The balm of Mecca is harvested similarly, mainly in the mountains near W. Safra between Yambu and Medina.

The stony plains which cover so large a part of the country are often covered with acacia jungle, and in the dry water-courses a kind of wild palm, the dom, abounds, from the leaves of which baskets and mats are woven. Brushwood and rough pasturage of some sort is found almost everywhere, except in the neighbourhood of the larger settlements, where forage and firewood have to be brought in from long distances. The Nafud sands, too, are tufted in many places with bushes or small trees, and after the winter rains they produce excellent pasture.

The rocky plains that make up a large part of the country are often filled with acacia jungle, and in the dry riverbeds, a type of wild palm called dom grows abundantly, and its leaves are used to weave baskets and mats. Brushwood and rough grazing land can be found almost everywhere, except near the larger settlements, where feed and firewood have to be transported from far away. The Nafud sands are also dotted with bushes and small trees in many areas, and after the winter rains, they offer great pasture.

Population.—The people, according to their own traditions, are derived from two stocks, the pure Arabs, descended from Kahtan or Joktan, fourth in descent from Shem; and the Mustarab or naturalized Arabs, from Ishmael. The former are represented at the present day by the inhabitants of Yemen, Hadramut and Oman, in general a settled agricultural population; the latter by those of Hejaz, Nejd, El Hasa, the Syrian desert and Mesopotamia, consisting of the Bedouin or pastoral tribes (see Arabs and Bedouins). This distinction between the characteristics of the two races is only true in a general sense, for a considerable population of true Bedouin origin has settled down to agricultural life in the oases of Hejaz and Nejd, while in southern Arabia the tribes dwelling on the fringe of the great desert have to a certain extent adopted the nomad life.

Population.—According to their own traditions, the people come from two main groups: the pure Arabs, who are descended from Kahtan or Joktan, fourth in line from Shem; and the Mustarab or naturalized Arabs, descended from Ishmael. Today, the pure Arabs are represented by the inhabitants of Yemen, Hadramut, and Oman, who are generally a settled agricultural population. The Mustarab are represented by people from Hejaz, Nejd, El Hasa, the Syrian desert, and Mesopotamia, mainly consisting of Bedouin or pastoral tribes (see Arabs and Bedouins). This distinction between the two groups is generally true; however, a substantial population of true Bedouin origin has settled into agricultural life in the oases of Hejaz and Nejd, while in southern Arabia, tribes living on the edge of the great desert have somewhat adopted a nomadic lifestyle.

Both among the nomad and settled Arabs the organization is essentially tribal. The affairs of the tribe are administered by the sheiks, or heads of clans and families; the position of sheik in itself gives no real governing power, his word and counsel carry weight, but his influence depends on his own personal qualities. All matters affecting the community are discussed in the majlis or assembly, to which any tribesman has access; here, too, are brought the tribesmen’s causes; both sides plead and judgment is given impartially, the loser is fined so many head of small cattle or camels, which he must pay or go into 262 exile. Murder can be expiated by the payment of diya or blood-money, if the kinsmen of the murdered man consent; they may, however, claim the life of the murderer, and long and troublesome blood feuds often ensue, involving the relatives of both sides for generations.

Both for the nomadic and settled Arabs, the organization is mainly tribal. The tribe's affairs are managed by the sheiks, or leaders of clans and families; the sheik's role itself doesn't grant real governing authority, but his words and advice are respected. His influence relies on his personal qualities. All community matters are discussed in the majlis or assembly, which is open to any tribesman; here, tribesmen also present their cases. Both sides plead their arguments, and judgment is rendered fairly; the losing party is fined a certain number of small livestock or camels, which they must pay or face exile. Murder can be atoned for by paying diya or blood-money, if the family of the murdered person agrees; however, they may also demand the life of the murderer, leading to long and complicated blood feuds that can involve both sides' relatives for generations.

Apart from the tribesmen there is in Hejaz and south Arabia a privileged, religious class, the Sharifs or Seyyids, who claim descent from Mahomet through his daughter Fatima. Until the Egyptian invasion in 1814 the Sharifs of Mecca were the recognized rulers of Hejaz, and though the Turks have attempted to suppress their importance, the Sharif still executes justice according to the Mahommedan law in the holy cities, though, nominally, as a Turkish official. In Yemen and Hadramut many villages are occupied exclusively by this religious hierarchy, who are known as Ashraf, Sada or Kudha (i.e. Sharifs, Seyyids or Kadhis); the religious affairs of the tribes are left in their hands; they do not, however, interfere in tribal matters generally, or join in fighting.

Aside from the tribespeople, there is a privileged religious class in Hejaz and southern Arabia, the Sharifs or Seyyids, who claim to descend from Muhammad through his daughter Fatima. Until the Egyptian invasion in 1814, the Sharifs of Mecca were the recognized rulers of Hejaz, and even though the Turks have tried to downplay their importance, the Sharif still upholds justice according to Islamic law in the holy cities, although, officially, as a Turkish official. In Yemen and Hadramut, many villages are exclusively occupied by this religious hierarchy, known as Ashraf, Sada, or Kudha (i.e., Sharifs, Seyyids, or Kadhis); they are in charge of the religious matters of the tribes, but they generally do not get involved in tribal affairs or participate in fighting.

Below these two classes, which may be looked on as the priestly and the military castes, there is, especially in the settled districts, a large population of artisans and labourers, besides negro slaves and their descendants, slave or free. The population of Khaibar consists almost entirely of the latter, and in Hail Huber estimates the pure Arab inhabitants at only one-third of the whole. In the desert, too, there is a widely scattered tribe, the Salubi, which from its name (Salib, cross) is conjectured to be of early Christian origin; they are great hunters, killing ostriches and gazelles; the Arabs despise them as an inferior race, but do not harm them; they pay a small tax to the tribe under whose protection they live, and render service as labourers, for which they receive in the spring milk and cheese; at the date harvest they get wages in kind; with this, and the produce of the chase, they manage to exist in the desert without agriculture or flocks.

Below these two classes, which can be seen as the priestly and military groups, there is, especially in the settled areas, a large population of artisans and laborers, along with Black slaves and their descendants, whether enslaved or free. The population of Khaibar is almost entirely made up of the latter, and in Hail, Huber estimates that pure Arab inhabitants make up only one-third of the total. In the desert, there is also a widely scattered tribe called the Salubi, which from its name (Salib, cross) is believed to have early Christian roots; they are skilled hunters, killing ostriches and gazelles. The Arabs look down on them as an inferior race but do not harm them; they pay a small tax to the tribe that protects them and work as laborers in exchange for milk and cheese in the spring. During the date harvest, they receive compensation in kind; with this, along with the food from hunting, they manage to survive in the desert without farming or herding.

In southern Arabia the Jews form a large element in the town population. According to one authority their presence in Yemen dates from the time of Solomon, others say from the capture of Jerusalem by Nebuchadrezzar. Manzoni The Jews in Arabia. estimated their number in Sana in 1878 at 1700 out of a total population of 20,000; at Aden they are a numerous and wealthy community, with agents in most of the towns of Yemen. Even in remote Nejran, Halévy, himself a Jew, found a considerable colony of his co-religionists. They wear a distinctive garb and are not allowed to carry arms or live in the same quarter as Moslems. Another foreign element of considerable strength in the coast towns of Muscat, Aden and Jidda, is the British Indian trading class; many families of Indian origin also have settled at Mecca, having originally come as pilgrims.

In southern Arabia, Jews make up a significant portion of the town population. One source claims their presence in Yemen goes back to the time of Solomon, while others believe it began with the capture of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. Manzoni The Jewish community in Arabia. estimated their number in Sana in 1878 to be 1,700 out of a total population of 20,000. In Aden, they form a large and prosperous community, with agents in most towns across Yemen. Even in the remote area of Nejran, Halévy, who is also Jewish, discovered a sizable colony of fellow Jews. They wear distinctive clothing and are not permitted to carry weapons or live in the same neighborhoods as Muslims. Another notable foreign group in the coastal towns of Muscat, Aden, and Jidda is the British Indian trading class; many families of Indian descent have also settled in Mecca, originally coming as pilgrims.

Estimates of the population of Arabia vary enormously, and the figures given in the following table can only be regarded as a very rough approximation:—

Estimates of the population of Arabia vary greatly, and the figures provided in the following table can only be seen as a very rough approximation:—

Hejaz 300,000
Yemen and Asir 1,800,000
Nejd 1,000,000
Hadramut 150,000
Oman 1,000,000
El Hasa 300,000
Syrian desert and border 275,000
  ————
  4,825,000

Communications.—The principal land routes in Arabia are those leading to the holy cities. In the present day the Syrian pilgrim route, or Darb el Haj, from Damascus to Medina and Mecca is the most used. The annual pilgrim caravan or haj, numbering some 6000 people with 10,000 pack animals, is escorted by a few Turkish irregulars known as agel; small fortified posts have been established at the regular halting-places some 30 m. apart, each furnished with a well and reservoir, and for the further protection of the haj, payments are made to the Bedouin tribes through whose territories the route passes. The road is a mere camel track across the desert, the chief places passed are Ma’an on the Syrian border, a station on the old Sabaean trade route to Petra, and Medain Salih, the site of the rock-cut tombs and inscriptions first brought to notice by Doughty. From Medina the route usually followed descends the W. Safra to Badr Hunen, whence it keeps near the coast passing Rabigh and Khulesa to Mecca. The total distance, 1300 m., is covered in forty days.

Communications.—The main land routes in Arabia lead to the holy cities. Today, the most used route is the Syrian pilgrim route, or Darb el Haj, which runs from Damascus to Medina and Mecca. The annual pilgrim caravan, or haj, consists of about 6,000 people and 10,000 pack animals, and is escorted by a few Turkish irregulars known as agel; small fortified posts have been set up at regular stops about 30 miles apart, each equipped with a well and reservoir. To further protect the haj, payments are made to the Bedouin tribes whose territories the route crosses. The road is just a camel track across the desert, with the main locations along the way being Ma’an on the Syrian border, a stop on the old Sabaean trade route to Petra, and Medain Salih, known for its rock-cut tombs and inscriptions that were first noted by Doughty. From Medina, the usual route goes down the W. Safra to Badr Hunen, where it stays close to the coast, passing through Rabigh and Khulesa to Mecca. The total distance of 1,300 miles is covered in forty days.

The Egyptian pilgrim route from Cairo, across the Sinai peninsula and down the Midian coast to El Wijh, joins the Syrian route at Badr Hunen. It also was formerly provided with stations and reservoirs, but owing to the greater facilities of the sea journey from Suez to Jidda it is now little used. Another important route is that taken by the Persian or Shia pilgrims from Bagdad and Kerbela across the desert, by the wells of Lina, to Bureda in Kasim; thence across the steppes of western Nejd till it crosses the Hejaz border at the Ria Mecca, 50 m. north-east of the city. It lies almost entirely in the territory of the amir Ibn Rashid of J. Shammar, who derives a considerable revenue from the pilgrimage. The old reservoirs on this route attributed to Zubeda, wife of Harun al Rashid, were destroyed during the Wahhabi raids early in the 19th century, and have not been repaired. The Yemen pilgrim route, known as the Haj el Kabsi, led from Sada through Asir to Taif and Mecca, but it is no longer used.

The Egyptian pilgrimage route starts in Cairo, goes across the Sinai Peninsula, and down the Midian coast to El Wijh, connecting with the Syrian route at Badr Hunen. It used to have stations and water supplies, but it’s now rarely traveled due to the easier sea journey from Suez to Jidda. Another key route is taken by the Persian or Shia pilgrims coming from Baghdad and Karbala, crossing the desert by the wells of Lina to Bureda in Qassim; from there, they travel across the western Nejd steppes to enter Hejaz at the Ria Mecca, which is 50 miles northeast of the city. This route is mostly within the territory of Amir Ibn Rashid of J. Shammar, who earns significant income from the pilgrimage. The old water reservoirs on this route, credited to Zubeda, the wife of Harun al-Rashid, were destroyed during the Wahhabi raids in the early 19th century and haven’t been fixed. The Yemen pilgrimage route, known as the Haj el Kabsi, once ran from Sada through Asir to Taif and Mecca, but it is no longer in use.

The principal trade routes are those leading from Damascus to Jauf and across the Nafud to Hail. Other important routes leading to Nejd are those from Kuwet to Hail, and from El Hasa to Riad respectively. In the west and south the principal routes, other than those already mentioned, are from Yambu to Medina, from Jidda to Mecca, Hodeda to Sana, Aden to Sana, and from Mukalla to the Hadramut valley. Railway construction has begun in Arabia, and in 1908 the Hejaz line, intended to connect Damascus with Mecca, had reached Medina, 500 m. south of Ma’an. This line is of great strategical importance, as strengthening the Turkish hold on the Red Sea provinces. But the principal means of commercial communication for a country like Arabia must always be by sea. Bahrein, Kuwet and Muscat are in steam communication with India, and the Persian Gulf ports; all the great lines of steamships call at Aden on their way between Suez and the East, and regular services are maintained between Suez, Jidda, Hodeda and Aden, as well as to the ports on the African coast, while native coasting craft trade to the smaller ports on the Red Sea and Indian Ocean.

The main trade routes are those going from Damascus to Jauf and across the Nafud to Hail. Other significant routes to Nejd include the ones from Kuwait to Hail and from Al Hasa to Riyadh. In the west and south, the main routes, apart from those already mentioned, are from Yambu to Medina, from Jidda to Mecca, Hodeda to Sana, Aden to Sana, and from Mukalla to the Hadramut valley. Railway construction has started in Arabia, and in 1908, the Hejaz line, which is designed to link Damascus with Mecca, reached Medina, 500 m south of Ma’an. This line is strategically important as it strengthens the Turkish control over the Red Sea provinces. However, the main means of commercial communication for a country like Arabia will always be by sea. Bahrain, Kuwait, and Muscat have steam connections with India and the Persian Gulf ports; all major steamship lines stop at Aden on their route between Suez and the East, with regular services operating between Suez, Jidda, Hodeda, and Aden, as well as to the ports along the African coast, while local boats trade to the smaller ports on the Red Sea and Indian Ocean.

Commerce.—The total value of the trade of Aden for 1904 amounted to over £6,000,000. The imports to Jidda in the same year were £1,405,000, largely consisting of rice, wheat and other food stuffs from India; the exports, which have dwindled away in late years, amounted in 1904 to only £25,000. To balance the exports and imports specie was exported in the three years 1902-1904 amounting to £2,319,000; a large proportion of this was perhaps provided by cash brought into the country by pilgrims.

Commerce.—In 1904, the total trade value of Aden exceeded £6,000,000. That same year, imports to Jidda reached £1,405,000, mainly consisting of rice, wheat, and other food products from India; however, exports, which have decreased in recent years, were only £25,000 in 1904. To balance the imports and exports, cash was exported over the three years from 1902 to 1904, totaling £2,319,000; a significant portion of this was likely supplied by money brought into the country by pilgrims.

The pilgrim traffic increased largely in 1904 as compared with previous years; 74,600 persons landed at Jidda, 18,000 of whom were from British India, 13,000 from Java and the Straits Settlements, and the remainder from Turkish territory, Egypt and other countries: 235 out of a total of 334 steamships engaged in this traffic were British.

The number of pilgrims increased significantly in 1904 compared to previous years; 74,600 people arrived at Jidda, with 18,000 coming from British India, 13,000 from Java and the Straits Settlements, and the rest from Turkish territory, Egypt, and other countries. Out of a total of 334 steamships involved in this traffic, 235 were British.

The trade of Hodeda, which contributes by far the largest share to that of Turkish Yemen, fell off considerably during the period from 1901-1905, chiefly owing to the disturbed state of the country. In the latter year the imports amounted to £467,000, and the exports to £451,000; coffee, the mainstay of Yemen trade, shows a serious decline from £302,000 in 1902 to £229,000 in 1904; this is attributable partly to the great increase of production in other countries, but mainly to the insecurity of the trade routes and the exorbitant transit dues levied by the Turkish administration.

The trade of Hodeda, which makes up the largest portion of that in Turkish Yemen, dropped significantly between 1901 and 1905, primarily due to the country’s unstable situation. In 1905, imports were £467,000, and exports were £451,000; coffee, the backbone of Yemen's trade, saw a significant decline from £302,000 in 1902 to £229,000 in 1904. This decline is partly due to a major increase in production in other countries, but mainly because of the danger on trade routes and the high transit fees imposed by the Turkish government.

Oman, through its chief port Muscat, had a total trade of about £550,000, two-thirds of which is due to imports and one-third to exports. The chief items of imports are arms and ammunition, rice, coffee and piece goods; the staple export is dates, which in a good year accounts for nearly half the total; much of the trade is in the hands of British Indians, and of the shipping 92% is British.

Oman, through its main port Muscat, had a total trade of around £550,000, with two-thirds coming from imports and one-third from exports. The main imported goods are arms and ammunition, rice, coffee, and textiles; the primary export is dates, which in a good year makes up nearly half of the total. A significant portion of the trade is controlled by British Indians, and 92% of the shipping is British.

The principal trade centre of the Arabian side of the Persian Gulf is Bahrein; the total volume of trade of which amounted in 1904 to £1,900,000, nearly equally divided between imports and exports; rice, piece goods, &c., form the bulk of the former, while pearls are the most valuable part of the latter.

The main trade center on the Arabian side of the Persian Gulf is Bahrain. The total trade volume in 1904 was £1,900,000, almost evenly split between imports and exports. Rice, textiles, and other goods make up the majority of imports, while pearls are the most valuable exports.

(R. A. W.)

Antiquities

Artifacts

Arabia cannot be said to be “destitute of antiquities,” but the material for the study of these is still very incomplete. 263 The difficulties in the way of travelling in Arabia with a view to scientific investigation are such that little or nothing is being done, and the systematic work which has given such good results in Egypt, Palestine and Babylonia-Assyria is unknown in Arabia. Yet the passing notes of travellers from the time of Carsten Niebuhr show that antiquities are to be found.

Arabia can’t be called “lacking in antiquities,” but the resources for studying them are still quite limited. 263 The challenges of traveling in Arabia for scientific research are such that very little is being accomplished, and the organized efforts that have led to great results in Egypt, Palestine, and Babylonia-Assyria haven't been established in Arabia. Still, the observations of travelers since Carsten Niebuhr’s time indicate that antiquities do exist.

Prehistoric Remains.—Since prehistoric remains must be studied where they are found, the difficulty in the way of exploration makes itself severely felt. That such remains exist seems clear from the casual remarks of travellers. Thus Palgrave (Central and Eastern Arabia, vol. i. ch. 6) speaks of part of a circle of roughly shaped stones taken from the adjacent limestone mountains in the Nejd. Eight or nine of these stones still exist, some of them 15 ft. high. Two of them, 10 to 12 ft. apart, still bear their horizontal lintel. They are all without ornament. Palgrave compares them with the remains at Stonehenge and Karnak. Doughty (Arabia Deserta, vol. ii.), travelling in north-west Arabia, saw stones of granite in a row and “flagstones set edgewise” (though he does not regard these as religious), also “round heaps, perhaps barrows,” and “dry-built round chambers,” which may be ancient tombs. J.T. Bent (Southern Arabia, pp. 24 ff.) explored one of several mounds in Bahrein. It proved to be a tomb, and the remains in it are said to be Phoenician.

Prehistoric Remains.—Since prehistoric remains need to be studied at their original locations, the challenges of exploration are quite significant. It's clear from the observations of travelers that such remains do exist. For instance, Palgrave (Central and Eastern Arabia, vol. i. ch. 6) describes part of a circle made from rough stones taken from the nearby limestone mountains in the Nejd. Eight or nine of these stones still stand, some reaching 15 feet high. Two of them, spaced 10 to 12 feet apart, still have their horizontal lintel. None of them are decorated. Palgrave compares them to the remains found at Stonehenge and Karnak. Doughty (Arabia Deserta, vol. ii.), traveling through north-west Arabia, observed a row of granite stones and “flagstones set edgewise” (although he doesn't consider these to be religious), as well as “round heaps, perhaps barrows,” and “dry-built round chambers,” which may be ancient tombs. J.T. Bent (Southern Arabia, pp. 24 ff.) investigated one of several mounds in Bahrein. It turned out to be a tomb, and the remains found inside are believed to be Phoenician.

Castles and Walls.—In the south of Arabia, where an advanced civilization existed for centuries before the Christian era, the ruins of castles and city-walls are still in existence, and have been mentioned, though not examined carefully, by several travellers. In Yemen and Hadramut especially these ruins abound, and in some cases inscriptions seem to be still in situ. Great castles are often mentioned in early Arabian literature. One in the neighbourhood of San‛a was described as one of the wonders of the world by Qazwīnī (Athār ul-Bilād, p. 33, ed. Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, 1847, cf. Journal of the German Oriental Society, vol. 7, pp. 472, 476, and for other castles vol. 10, pp. 20 ff.). The ruins of the city of Ma’rib, the old Sabaean capital, have been visited by Arnaud, Halévy and Glaser, but call for further description, as Arnaud confined himself to a description of the dike (see below), while Halévy and Glaser were interested chiefly in the inscriptions.

Castles and Walls.—In the south of Arabia, where an advanced civilization thrived for centuries before the Christian era, the ruins of castles and city walls still exist and have been noted, though not closely examined, by several travelers. In Yemen and Hadramut, these ruins are especially plentiful, and in some cases, inscriptions appear to still be in situ. Great castles are often referenced in early Arabian literature. One near San‛a was described as one of the wonders of the world by Qazwīnī (Athār ul-Bilād, p. 33, ed. Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, 1847, cf. Journal of the German Oriental Society, vol. 7, pp. 472, 476, and for other castles vol. 10, pp. 20 ff.). The ruins of the city of Ma’rib, the ancient Sabaean capital, have been visited by Arnaud, Halévy, and Glaser, but need further description, as Arnaud focused solely on the dike (see below), while Halévy and Glaser were mainly interested in the inscriptions.

Wells and Dikes.—From the earliest times the conservation of water has been one of the serious cares of the Arabs. All over the country wells are to be found, and the masonry of some of them is undoubtedly ancient. Inscriptions are still found in some of these in the south. The famous well Zemzem at Mecca is said to belong to the early times, when the eastern traffic passed from the south to the north-west of Arabia through the Hejaz, and to have been rediscovered shortly before the time of Mahomet. Among the most famous remains of Ma’rib are those of a great dike reminding one of the restored tanks familiar to visitors at Aden. These remains were first described by Arnaud (Journal asiatique, January 1874, with plan). Their importance was afterwards emphasized by Glaser’s publication of two long inscriptions concerning their restoration in the 5th and 6th centuries A.D. (“Zwei Inschriften über den Dammbruch von Marib,” in the Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft, Berlin, 1897). Another dike about 150 yds. long was seen by W.B. Harris at Hîrran in Yemen. Above it was a series of three tanks (A Journey through the Yemen, p. 279, London, 1893).

Wells and Dikes.—Since ancient times, conserving water has been a major concern for the Arabs. Throughout the region, there are numerous wells, and the masonry of some is definitely old. Inscriptions can still be found in some of these wells in the south. The famous Zemzem well in Mecca is said to date back to early times, when eastern trade routes went from the south to the northwest of Arabia through the Hejaz, and it was rediscovered shortly before Mahomet's time. Among the most notable remnants of Ma’rib is a significant dike, similar to the restored tanks that visitors to Aden are familiar with. These remains were first described by Arnaud (Journal asiatique, January 1874, with plan). Their importance was later highlighted by Glaser’s publication of two extensive inscriptions related to their restoration in the 5th and 6th centuries AD (“Zwei Inschriften über den Dammbruch von Marib,” in the Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft, Berlin, 1897). Another dike, about 150 yards long, was observed by W.B. Harris at Hîrran in Yemen. Above it, there was a series of three tanks (A Journey through the Yemen, p. 279, London, 1893).

Stones and Bronzes.—The 19th century has brought to the museums of Europe (especially to London, Paris, Berlin and Vienna) a number of inscriptions in the languages of Minea and Saba, and a few in those of Hadramut and Katabania (Qatta-bania). These inscriptions are generally on limestone or marble or on tablets of bronze, and vary from a few inches to some feet in length and height. In some cases the originals have been brought to Europe, in other cases only squeezes of the inscriptions. The characters employed are apparently derived from the Phoenician (cf. Lidzbarski’s Ephemeris, vol. i. pp. 109 ff.). The languages employed have been the subject of much study (cf. F. Hommel’s Süd-arabische Chrestomathie, Munich, 1893), but the archaeological value of these remains has not been so fully treated. Very many of them are votive inscriptions and contain little more than the names of gods and princes or private men. A few are historical, but being (with few and late exceptions) undated, have given rise to much controversy among scholars. Their range seems to be from about 800 B.C. (or 1500 B.C. according to E. Glaser) to the 6th century A.D. Few are still in situ, the majority having been taken from their original positions and built into houses, mosques or wells of more recent date. Among these remains are altars, and bases for statues of gods or for golden images of animals dedicated to gods. The earlier stones are devoid of ornamentation, but the later stones and bronzes are sometimes ornamented with designs of leaves, flowers, ox-heads, men and women. Some bear figures of the conventionalized sacred tree with worshippers, similar to Babylonian designs. Besides these there are gravestones, stelae with human heads, fragments of limestone, architectural designs as well as bronze castings of camels, horses, mice, serpents, &c. (cf. D.H. Müller’s Südarabische Alterthümer im Kunsthistorischen Museum, Vienna, 1899, with plates).

Stones and Bronzes.—The 19th century has brought a variety of inscriptions in the languages of Minea and Saba to the museums of Europe (notably in London, Paris, Berlin, and Vienna), along with a few in the languages of Hadramut and Katabania (Qatta-bania). These inscriptions are typically found on limestone or marble, or on bronze tablets, and range in size from a few inches to several feet in length and height. In some instances, the originals have been brought to Europe, while in other cases only prints of the inscriptions are available. The characters used seem to be derived from Phoenician (see Lidzbarski’s Ephemeris, vol. i, pp. 109 ff.). The languages featured have been extensively studied (refer to F. Hommel’s Süd-arabische Chrestomathie, Munich, 1893), but the archaeological significance of these artifacts has not been as thoroughly explored. Many of them are votive inscriptions that mainly consist of the names of deities, rulers, or private individuals. A few are historical, but since most are (with rare and later exceptions) undated, there has been considerable debate among scholars. They appear to date from around 800 BCE (or 1500 BCE according to E. Glaser) to the 6th century A.D. Few remain in situ, as the majority have been removed from their original contexts and incorporated into more recent structures such as houses, mosques, or wells. Among these artifacts are altars and bases for statues of deities or for golden images of animals dedicated to the gods. The earlier stones lack decoration, but the later stones and bronzes are occasionally adorned with designs featuring leaves, flowers, ox-heads, and human figures. Some depict the stylized sacred tree accompanied by worshippers, resembling Babylonian motifs. Additionally, there are gravestones, stelae with human heads, fragments of limestone, architectural designs, and bronze castings of camels, horses, mice, serpents, etc. (see D.H. Müller’s Südarabische Alterthümer im Kunsthistorischen Museum, Vienna, 1899, with plates).

Seals, Weights and Coins.—The Vienna Museum possesses a small number of seals and gems. The seals are inscribed with Sabaean writing and are of bronze, copper, silver and stone. The gems of onyx, carnelian and agate are later and bear various figures, and in some cases Arabic inscriptions. One or two weights are also in existence. A number of coins have been brought to the British Museum from Aden, San’a and Ma’rib. Others were purchased by G. Schlumberger in Constantinople; others have been brought to Europe by Glaser, and are now in the Vienna Museum. These are imitations of Greek models, while the inscriptions are in Sabaean characters (cf. B.V. Head, in the Numismatic Chronicle, 1878, pp. 273-284; G. Schlumberger, Le Trêsor de San‛a, Paris, 1880; D.H. Müller, op. cit. pp. 65 ff. and plates).

Seals, Weights and Coins.—The Vienna Museum has a small collection of seals and gems. The seals are engraved with Sabaean script and are made of bronze, copper, silver, and stone. The gems, made of onyx, carnelian, and agate, are more recent and feature various designs, with some displaying Arabic inscriptions. A couple of weights also exist. Many coins have been taken to the British Museum from Aden, San’a, and Ma’rib. Others were bought by G. Schlumberger in Constantinople; additional ones were brought to Europe by Glaser and are currently in the Vienna Museum. These coins mimic Greek designs, and the inscriptions are in Sabaean characters (cf. B.V. Head, in the Numismatic Chronicle, 1878, pp. 273-284; G. Schlumberger, Le Trêsor de San‛a, Paris, 1880; D.H. Müller, op. cit. pp. 65 ff. and plates).

For the problem of Arabic antiquities in Rhodesia see Rhodesia and Zimbabwe.

For the issue of Arabic antiquities in Rhodesia, see Rhodesia and Zimbabwe.

(G. W. T.)

History

History

Introduction.—Arabia is a land of Semites, and is supposed by some scholars to have been the original home of the Semitic peoples. Although this cannot be said to be proved, the studies, linguistic and archaeological, of Semitic scholars have shown it to be probable. The dispersion from Arabia is easy to imagine. The migration into Babylonia was simple, as there are no natural boundaries to separate it from north-east Arabia, and similar migrations have taken place in historic times. That of the Aramaeans at an early period is likewise free from any natural hindrance. The connexion with Palestine has always been close; and the Abyssinian settlement is probably as late as the beginning of the Christian era. Of these migrations, however, history knows nothing, nor are they expressed in literature. Arabian literature has its own version of prehistoric times, but it is entirely legendary and apocryphal. It was, and still is, the custom of Arabian historians to begin with the creation of the world and tell the history from then to the time of which they are writing. Consequently even the more sober histories contain a mass of fables about early days. Many of these, taken in part from Jewish and Christian sources, find a place in the Koran. Of all these stories current at the time of Mahomet, the only ones of any value are the accounts of the “days of the Arabs,” i.e. accounts of some famous inter-tribal battles in Arabia.

Introduction.—Arabia is a region inhabited by Semitic people and is believed by some scholars to be the original home of these groups. While this hasn't been definitively proven, research in linguistics and archaeology by Semitic scholars makes it seem likely. It's easy to picture the migration from Arabia. The move into Babylonia was straightforward, as there are no natural barriers separating it from northeast Arabia, and similar migrations have happened throughout history. Early migrations of the Aramaeans also faced no significant obstacles. The connection with Palestine has always been strong, and the Abyssinian settlement likely dates back to the beginning of the Christian era. However, history has no record of these migrations, nor are they documented in literature. Arabian literature has its own interpretation of prehistoric times, but it's entirely legendary and fictional. Arabian historians traditionally began with the creation of the world, narrating history from that point onward. As a result, even the more serious histories contain a lot of myths about early days. Many of these tales, partly derived from Jewish and Christian sources, are included in the Koran. Of all the stories that were popular during Mahomet's time, the only ones of any significance are the accounts of the "days of the Arabs," i.e. stories of famous inter-tribal battles in Arabia.

Authorities.—Until recently the Arab traditions were practically the only source for the pre-Islamic history of Arabia. The Old Testament references to Arabs were obscure. The classical accounts of the invasion of Aelius Callus in 26 B.C. threw little light on the state of Arabia at the time, still less on its past history. The Greek writers from Theophrastus in the 4th century B.C. to Ptolemy in the 2nd century A.D. mention many names of Arabian peoples and describe the situation of their cities, but contribute little to their history, and that little could not be controlled. The same applies to the information of Pliny in his Natural History. In the 19th century the discovery and decipherment of the Assyrian inscriptions gave a slight glance into the relations between Arabs and Assyrians from the 264 8th century B.C. But the great contribution of the century to the early history of Arabia was the collecting and translating of numerous early Arabian inscriptions (cf. section Antiquities above), which have done service both by their own indication of a great civilization in Arabia for nearly (or more than) a thousand years before the Christian era, and by the new stimulus which they gave to the study and appreciation of the materials in the Assyrian inscriptions, the Old Testament, and the Greek and Roman writers. At the same time the facts that the inscriptions are undated until a late period, that few are historical in their contents, and for the most part yield only names of gods and rulers and domestic and religious details, and that our collection is still very incomplete, have led to much serious disagreement among scholars as to the reconstruction of the history of Arabia in the pre-Christian centuries.

Authorities.—Until recently, Arab traditions were virtually the only source for pre-Islamic history in Arabia. The references to Arabs in the Old Testament were unclear. The classical accounts of Aelius Callus's invasion in 26 B.C. provided little insight into the state of Arabia at that time, let alone its past history. Greek writers, from Theophrastus in the 4th century BCE to Ptolemy in the 2nd century CE, mentioned many names of Arabian peoples and described the situation of their cities, but contributed little to their history, and that little could not be verified. The same goes for the information provided by Pliny in his Natural History. In the 19th century, the discovery and decipherment of Assyrian inscriptions offered a brief glimpse into the relations between Arabs and Assyrians from the 264 8th century BCE However, the biggest contribution of the century to the early history of Arabia was the collection and translation of numerous early Arabian inscriptions (cf. section Antiquities above), which have demonstrated a significant civilization in Arabia for nearly (or more than) a thousand years before the Christian era, and have also provided new momentum for the study and appreciation of materials in the Assyrian inscriptions, the Old Testament, and Greek and Roman writers. At the same time, the facts that the inscriptions are undated until a later period, that few contain historical content, and that most yield only names of gods, rulers, and details about domestic and religious life, along with the incomplete nature of our collection, have led to considerable disagreement among scholars regarding the reconstruction of Arabia's history in the pre-Christian centuries.

All scholars, however, are agreed that the inscriptions reach as far back as the 9th century B.C. (some say to the 16th) and prove the existence of at least four civilized kingdoms during these centuries. These are the kingdoms of Ma‛īn (Minaean), of Saba (Sabaean), of Hadramaut (Hadramut) and of Katabania (Katabanū). Of the two latter little is known. That of Hadramut had kings from the time of the Minaeans to about A.D. 300, when it was conquered by Ethiopia. The limits of the kingdom of Katabania are not known, but it has its own inscriptions.

All scholars generally agree that the inscriptions date back to the 9th century B.C. (some even suggest the 16th) and demonstrate the existence of at least four civilized kingdoms during these centuries. These kingdoms are Ma‛īn (Minaean), Saba (Sabaean), Hadramaut (Hadramut), and Katabania (Katabanū). There isn’t much information available about the latter two. Hadramaut had kings from the time of the Minaeans until around CE 300, when it was conquered by Ethiopia. The boundaries of the kingdom of Katabania are not known, but it has its own inscriptions.

As to the Sabaean kingdom there is fair agreement among scholars. The inscriptions go back to 800 B.C. or earlier, and the same applies to the kingdom. A queen of this people (the “Queen of Sheba”) is said (1 Kings x.) to have visited Solomon about 950 B.C. There is, however, no mention of such a queen in the inscriptions. An Assyrian inscription mentions Ith‛amara the Sabaean who paid tribute to Sargon in 715 B.C. At this time the Sabaeans must have been in north Arabia unless the inscription refers to a northern colony of the southern Sabaeans. The former opinion is held by E. Glaser, who thinks that in the 9th and 8th centuries they moved down along the west coast to the south, where they conquered the Minaeans (see below). The Sabaean rule is generally divided into periods indicated by the titles given to their rulers. In the first of these ruled the Makarib, who seem to have been priest-kings. Their first capital was at Ṣirwāḥ. Ten such rulers are mentioned in the inscriptions. Their rule extended from the 9th to the 6th century. The second period begins about 550 B.C. The rulers are known as “kings of Saba.” Their capital was Ma’rib. The names of seventeen of these kings are known from the inscriptions. Their sway lasted until about 115 B.C., when they were succeeded by the Himyarites. During this period they were engaged in constant strife with the neighbouring kingdoms of Hadramut and Katabania. The great prosperity of south-west Arabia at this time was due in large measure to the fact that the trade from India with Egypt came there by sea and then went by land up the west coast. This trade, however, was lost during this period, as the Ptolemies established an overland route from India to Alexandria. The connexion of Saba with the north, where the Nabataeans (q.v.) had existed from about 200 B.C., was now broken. The decay that followed caused a number of Sabaeans to migrate to other parts of Arabia.

As for the Sabaean kingdom, scholars generally agree on its history. The inscriptions date back to 800 B.C. or even earlier, and the same is true for the kingdom itself. A queen of this society, known as the “Queen of Sheba,” is said to have visited Solomon around 950 B.C. However, there's no mention of such a queen in the inscriptions. An Assyrian inscription refers to Ith’amara the Sabaean, who paid tribute to Sargon in 715 B.C. At that time, the Sabaeans were likely in northern Arabia, unless the inscription references a northern colony of the southern Sabaeans. E. Glaser holds that they migrated down the west coast during the 9th and 8th centuries, eventually conquering the Minaeans (see below). The Sabaean rule is typically divided into periods defined by the titles of their leaders. In the first period, the Makarib ruled, who seem to have been priest-kings. Their initial capital was at Ṣirwāḥ. Inscriptions mention ten of these rulers, and their reign lasted from the 9th to the 6th century. The second period starts around 550 B.C. The rulers from this time are known as “kings of Saba,” with their capital at Ma’rib. Inscriptions list the names of seventeen of these kings, and their reign continued until about 115 B.C., when they were succeeded by the Himyarites. During this time, they were often at war with neighboring kingdoms like Hadramut and Katabania. The significant prosperity of southwestern Arabia during this period was largely due to the maritime trade that connected India with Egypt, which then transported goods overland up the west coast. However, this trade diminished as the Ptolemies created an overland route from India to Alexandria. The connection between Saba and the north, where the Nabataeans had been established since around 200 B.C., was now severed. The decline that followed led many Sabaeans to migrate to other regions of Arabia.

The Minaean kingdom extended over the south Arabian Jauf, its chief cities being Karnau, Ma‛īn and Yathil. Some twenty-five kings are known from the inscriptions; of these twenty are known to be related to one another. Their history must thus cover several centuries. As inscriptions in the Minaean language are found in al-’Ula in north Arabia, it is probable that they had colonies in that district. With regard to their date opinion is very much divided; some, with E. Glaser and F. Hommel, maintaining that their kingdom existed prior to that of Saba, probably from about 1500 B.C. or earlier until the Sabaeans came from their home in the north and conquered them in the 9th century. Other scholars think, with D.H. Müller, partly on palaeographical grounds (cf. M. Lidzbarski’s Ephemeris, vol. i. pp. 109 seq., Giessen, 1902), that none of the inscriptions are earlier than about 800 B.C. and that the Minaean kingdom existed side by side with the Sabaean. It is curious that the Sabaean inscriptions contain no mention of the Minaeans, though this may be due to the fact that very few of the inscriptions are historical in content.

The Minaean kingdom spanned the southern Arabian Jauf, with its main cities being Karnau, Ma'in, and Yathil. Around twenty-five kings are known from the inscriptions, and of these, twenty are believed to be related. Their history likely spans several centuries. Since inscriptions in the Minaean language have been found in al-’Ula in northern Arabia, it’s likely they had colonies in that area. Regarding their timeline, opinions vary widely; some, like E. Glaser and F. Hommel, argue that their kingdom existed before that of Saba, probably starting around 1500 B.C. or earlier, until the Sabaeans came from their northern homeland and conquered them in the 9th century. Other scholars, like D.H. Müller, partly based on paleographical evidence (see M. Lidzbarski’s Ephemeris, vol. i, pp. 109 seq., Giessen, 1902), believe that none of the inscriptions date earlier than about 800 B.C. and that the Minaean kingdom coexisted with the Sabaean kingdom. Interestingly, the Sabaean inscriptions make no mention of the Minaeans, which may be because very few inscriptions are historical in nature.

About 115 B.C. the power over south Arabia passed from the Sabaeans to the Himyarites, a people from the extreme south-west of Arabia; and about this time the kingdom of Katabania came to an end. The title taken by the new rulers was “king of Saba and Raidan.” Twenty-six kings of this period are known from the inscriptions, some of which are dated. In this period the Romans made their one attempt at direct interference in the affairs of Arabia. The invasion under Aelius Gallus was an absolute failure, the expedition being betrayed by the guides and lost in the sands of the desert. During the latter part of this time the Abyssinians, who had earlier migrated from Arabia to the opposite coast of Africa, began to flow back to the south of Arabia, where they seem to have settled gradually and increased in importance until about A.D. 300, when they became strong enough to overturn the Himyarite kings and establish a dynasty of their own. The title assumed by them was “king of Saba, Raidān, Hadramut and Yemen.” The Himyarites were, however, still active, and after a struggle succeeded in establishing a Jewish Sabaean kingdom, having previously accepted Judaism as their religion. Their best-known king was Dhu Nuwas. The struggle between them and the Abyssinians now became one of Judaism against Christianity. The persecution of the Christians was very severe (see E. Glaser’s Die Abyssinier in Arabien und Afrika, Munich, 1895, and F.M.E. Pereira’s Historia dos Martyres de Nagran, Lisbon, 1899). Apparently for this reason Christian Abyssinia was supported from Byzantium in its attempts to regain power. These attempts were crowned with success in 525. Of the Christian Abyssinian kings in Arabia tradition tells of four, one only of whom is mentioned in inscriptions. The famous expedition of Abraha, the Abyssinian viceroy, against Mecca, took place in 570. Five years later the Persians, who had been called in by the opponents of Christianity, succeeded in taking over the rule and in appointing governors over Yemen. (See further Ethiopia: The Axumite Kingdom.)

About 115 BCE, control of southern Arabia shifted from the Sabaeans to the Himyarites, a group from the far southwest of Arabia; around this time, the kingdom of Katabania came to an end. The new rulers took the title “king of Saba and Raidan.” We know of twenty-six kings from this era through inscriptions, some of which are dated. During this time, the Romans made their only attempt at direct involvement in Arabian affairs. The invasion led by Aelius Gallus was a complete failure, with the expedition betrayed by its guides and lost in the desert sands. Towards the end of this period, the Abyssinians, who had previously migrated from Arabia to the opposite coast of Africa, began to return to southern Arabia, where they gradually settled and grew in importance until around CE 300, when they became strong enough to overthrow the Himyarite kings and establish their own dynasty. They adopted the title “king of Saba, Raidān, Hadramut, and Yemen.” However, the Himyarites remained active and, after a struggle, succeeded in establishing a Jewish Sabaean kingdom, having adopted Judaism as their religion. Their most famous king was Dhu Nuwas. The conflict between them and the Abyssinians evolved into one of Judaism versus Christianity. The persecution of Christians during this time was very harsh (see E. Glaser’s Die Abyssinier in Arabien und Afrika, Munich, 1895, and F.M.E. Pereira’s Historia dos Martyres de Nagran, Lisbon, 1899). Apparently for this reason, Christian Abyssinia received support from Byzantium in its attempts to regain power. These efforts were successful in 525. Tradition speaks of four Christian Abyssinian kings in Arabia, but only one is mentioned in inscriptions. The famous expedition led by Abraha, the Abyssinian viceroy, against Mecca occurred in 570. Five years later, the Persians, who had been summoned by the opponents of Christianity, managed to take control and appoint governors over Yemen. (See further Ethiopia: The Axumite Kingdom.)

Hira, Ghassān and Kinda.—Before passing to the time of Mahomet it is necessary to take account of three other Arabian powers, those of Hira, Ghassan and Kinda.

Hira, Ghassān, and Kinda.—Before moving on to the time of Muhammad, it's important to consider three other Arabian powers: Hira, Ghassan, and Kinda.

The kingdom of Hira (Ḥīra) was established in the boundary land between the Euphrates and the Arabian desert, a district renowned for its good air and extraordinary fertility. The chief town was Hira, a few miles south of the site Hira. of the later town of Kufa. The inhabitants of this land are said in Tabari’s history to have been of three classes:—(1) The Tanukh (Tnuhs), who lived in tents and were made up of Arabs from the Tehama and Nejd, who had united in Bahrein to form a new tribe, and who migrated from there to Hīra, probably at the beginning or middle of the 3rd century A.D., when the Arsacid power was growing weak. The Arabian historians relate their conflict with Zenobia. (2) The ‛Ibād or ‛Ibādites, who dwelt in the town of Hira in houses and so led a settled life. These were Christians, whose ecclesiastical language was Syriac, though the language of intercourse was Arabic. A Christian bishop of Hira is known to have attended a synod in 410. In the 5th century they became Nestorians. (3) Refugees of various tribes, who came into the land but did not belong to the Tanukh or the ‛Ibad. There is no trustworthy information as to the earlier chiefs of this people. The dynasty of the Lakhmids, famed in Arabian history and literature, arose towards the end of the 3rd century and lasted until about 602. The names of twenty kings are given by Hishām al-Kalbī in Ṭabari’s history. Although so many of their subjects were Christian, the Lakhmids remained heathen until Nu’mān, the last of the dynasty. The kingdom of Hīra was never really independent, but always stood in a relation of dependence on Persia, probably receiving pay from it and employing Persian soldiers. At the height of its power it was able to render valuable aid to its suzerain. Much of its time was spent in wars with Rome and Ghassān. Its revenues were derived from the Bedouins of the surrounding lands as well as from its own subjects at home. About 602 the 265 Lakhmid dynasty fell, and the Persian Chosroes (Khosrau) II. appointed as governor an Arab of the tribe of Tāi. Shortly after it came into relation with Islam.

The kingdom of Hira (Ḥīra) was founded in the border area between the Euphrates and the Arabian desert, known for its great climate and exceptional fertility. The main town was Hira, located just a few miles south of where the later town of Kufa would be. According to Tabari’s history, the people of this region were divided into three groups: (1) The Tanukh (Tnuhs), who lived in tents and consisted of Arabs from Tehama and Nejd, who came together in Bahrein to form a new tribe, migrating to Hīra likely in the early to mid-3rd century CE, when the Arsacid power began to decline. The Arabian historians recount their battles with Zenobia. (2) The ‛Ibād or ‛Ibādites, who lived in Hira in houses and led more settled lives. These were Christians whose church language was Syriac, although they communicated in Arabic. A Christian bishop from Hira is recorded to have attended a synod in 410. By the 5th century, they had become Nestorians. (3) Refugees from various tribes who entered the land but were not part of the Tanukh or the ‛Ibad. There’s not much reliable information about the early leaders of this community. The Lakhmid dynasty, well-known in Arabian history and literature, emerged towards the end of the 3rd century and lasted until around 602. Hishām al-Kalbī lists the names of twenty kings in Tabari’s history. Despite having many Christian subjects, the Lakhmids remained pagan until Nu’mān, the last of the dynasty. The kingdom of Hīra was never completely independent but was always somewhat dependent on Persia, likely receiving payments from them and employing Persian soldiers. At its peak, it was able to provide significant support to its overlord. Much of its existence was spent in conflicts with Rome and Ghassān. Its revenue came from the Bedouins in the surrounding areas as well as from its own local subjects. Around 602, the 265 Lakhmid dynasty came to an end, and the Persian Chosroes (Khosrau) II appointed an Arab from the Tāi tribe as governor. Shortly thereafter, it began to interact with Islam.

See G. Rothstein’s Die Dynastie der Lakhmiden in al-Hira (Berlin, 1899); Th. Nöldeke’s Geschichte der Perser und Araber zur Zeit der Sassaniden (Leiden, 1879).

See G. Rothstein’s Die Dynastie der Lakhmiden in al-Hira (Berlin, 1899); Th. Nöldeke’s Geschichte der Perser und Araber zur Zeit der Sassaniden (Leiden, 1879).

In the beginning of the 6th century A.D. a dynasty known as the Jafnids, enter into the history alike of the Roman and Persian empires. They ruled over the tribe of Ghassān in the extreme north-west of Arabia, east of the Ghassān. Jordan, from near Petra in the south to the neighbourhood of Rosafa in the north-east. Of their origin little is known except that they came from the south. A part of the same tribe inhabited Yathrib (Medina) at the time of Mahomet. The first certain prince of the Jafnid house was Harith ibn Jabala, who, according to the chronicle of John Malalas, conquered Mondhir (Mundhir) of Hira in 528. In the following year, according to Procopius, Justinian perceived the value of the Ghassānids as an outpost of the Roman empire, and as opponents of the Persian dependants of Hīra, and recognized Hārith as king of the Arabs and patrician of the Roman empire. He was thus constantly engaged in battles against Hīra. In 541 he fought under Belisarius in Mesopotamia. After his death about 569 or 570 the friendly relations with the West continued, but about 583 there was a breach. The Ghassanid kingdom split into sections each with its own prince. Some passed under the sway of Persia, others preserved their freedom at the expense of their neighbours. At this point their history ceases to be mentioned in the Western chronicles. There are references to the Ghassānid Nu’mān in the poems of Nābigha. Arabian tradition tells of their prince Jabala ibn Aiham who accepted Islam, after fighting against it, but finding it too democratic, returned to Christianity and exile in the Roman empire. As Islam advanced, some of the Ghassānids retreated to Cappadocia, others accepted the new faith.

In the early 6th century CE, a dynasty known as the Jafnids entered the historical records of both the Roman and Persian empires. They ruled over the Ghassān tribe in the far northwest of Arabia, east of the Ghassan. Jordan, from near Petra in the south to the area around Rosafa in the northeast. Little is known about their origins other than that they came from the south. A branch of the same tribe lived in Yathrib (Medina) during the time of Muhammad. The first well-documented ruler of the Jafnid dynasty was Harith ibn Jabala, who, according to the chronicle of John Malalas, defeated Mondhir (Mundhir) of Hira in 528. The following year, Procopius reported that Justinian recognized the strategic importance of the Ghassānids as a buffer for the Roman empire and as adversaries of the Persian allies in Hīra, and he acknowledged Hārith as the king of the Arabs and patrician of the Roman empire. He was thus continuously involved in conflicts against Hīra. In 541, he fought alongside Belisarius in Mesopotamia. After his death around 569 or 570, friendly relations with the West continued, but around 583, a rift emerged. The Ghassanid kingdom fragmented into sections, each ruled by its own prince. Some fell under Persian control, while others managed to maintain their autonomy at the expense of neighboring tribes. From this point onward, their history stops being recorded in Western chronicles. There are mentions of the Ghassānid Nu’mān in the poems of Nābigha. Arabian tradition speaks of their prince Jabala ibn Aiham, who initially fought against Islam but later converted, only to find it too democratic and reverted to Christianity, living in exile in the Roman empire. As Islam spread, some Ghassānids fled to Cappadocia, while others embraced the new religion.

See Th. Nöldeke, Die ghassanischen Fürsten aus dent Hause Gafna’s (Berlin, 1887).

See Th. Nöldeke, The Ghassanian Princes from the House of Gafna (Berlin, 1887).

In the last decade of the 5th century a new power arose in central Arabia. This was the tribe of Kinda under the sway of the family of Aqil ul Murār, who came from the south. They seem to have stood in much the same relation to Kinda. the rulers of Yemen, as the people of Hīra to the Persians and the Ghassanids to Rome. Abraha in his invasion of the Hejaz was accompanied by chiefs of Kinda. Details of their history are not known, but they seem to have gained power at one time even over the Lakhmids of Hīra; and to have ruled over Bahrein as well as Yemama until the battle of Shi‛b ul Jabala, when they lost this province to Hira. The poet Amru‛ul Qais was a member of the princely family of Kinda.

In the last decade of the 5th century, a new power emerged in central Arabia. This was the Kinda tribe, led by the family of Aqil ul Murār, who came from the south. They appeared to have a similar relationship to the rulers of Yemen as the people of Hīra had with the Persians and the Ghassanids with Rome. When Abraha invaded the Hejaz, he was joined by chiefs of Kinda. Details of their history are unclear, but it seems they held significant power at one point, even over the Lakhmids of Hīra, and ruled over Bahrein as well as Yamama until the battle of Shi‛b ul Jabala, when they lost this province to Hīra. The poet Amru‛ul Qais belonged to the royal family of Kinda.

Outside the territory of the powers mentioned above, Arabia in the 6th century was in a state of political chaos. Bahrein, inhabited chiefly by the Bani‛Abd Qais and the Bani Bakr, was largely subject to Persian influence near Other parts of Arabia. its coast, and a Persian governor, Sebocht, resided in Hajar, its chief town. In Oman the Arabs, who were chiefly engaged in fishing and seafaring, were Azdites mixed with Persians. The ruling dynasty of Julanda in their capital Suhar lasted on till the Abbasid period. No Persian officials are mentioned in this country; whether Persians exercised authority over it is doubtful. On the west coast of Arabia the influence of the kingdom of Yemen was felt in varying degree according to the strength of the rulers of that land. Apart from this influence the Hejaz was simply a collection of cities each with its own government, while outside the cities the various tribes governed themselves and fought continual battles with one another.

Outside the areas controlled by the powers mentioned earlier, Arabia in the 6th century was in political turmoil. Bahrain, mainly populated by the BaniʿAbd Qais and the Bani Bakr, was heavily influenced by Persia along its coast, and a Persian governor named Sebocht lived in Hajar, its main city. In Oman, the Arabs, primarily engaged in fishing and seafaring, were mainly Azdites mixed with Persians. The ruling dynasty of Julanda in their capital, Suhar, continued until the Abbasid period. There are no Persian officials noted in this area; it's uncertain if Persians held any authority there. Along the west coast of Arabia, the influence of the kingdom of Yemen varied depending on the strength of its rulers. Besides this influence, the Hejaz was simply a collection of cities, each governed independently, while the various tribes outside the cities managed themselves and were constantly fighting each other.

Time of Mahomet.—Thus at the time of Mahomet’s advent the country was peopled by various tribes, some more or less settled under the governments of south Arabia, Kinda, Hira and Ghassan, these in turn depending on Abyssinia, Persia and Rome (i.e. Byzantium); others as in the Hejaz were ruled in smaller communities by members of leading families, while in various parts of the peninsula were wandering Arabs still maintaining the traditions of old family and tribal rule, forming no state, sometimes passing, as suited them, under the influence and protection of one or another of the greater powers. To these may be added a certain number of Jewish tribes and families deriving their origin partly from migrations from Palestine, partly from converts among the Arabs themselves. Mahomet appealed at once to religion and patriotism, or rather created a feeling for both. For Mahomet as a religious teacher and for the details of his career see Mahomet. It is enough here to outline his actions in so far as he attempted to create a united, and then a conquering, Arabia. Though the external conquests of the Arabs belong more properly to the period of the caliphate, yet they were the natural outcome of the prophet’s ideas. His idea of Arabia for the Arabians could only be realized by summoning the great kings of the surrounding nations to recognize Islam; otherwise Abyssinia, Persia and Rome (Byzantium) would continue their former endeavours to influence and control the affairs of the peninsula. Tradition tells that a few years before his death he did actually send letters to the emperor Heraclius, to the negus of Abyssinia, the king of Persia, and Cyrus, patriarch of Alexandria, the “Mukaukis” of Egypt, summoning them to accept Islam and threatening them with punishment in case of refusal. But the task of carrying out these threats fell to the lot of his successors; the work of the prophet was to be the subjugating and uniting of Arabia. This work, scarcely begun in Mecca, was really started after the migration to Medina by the formation of a party of men—the Muhājirun (Refugees or Emigrants) and the Ansār (Helpers or Defenders)—who accepted Mahomet as their religious leader. As the necessity of overcoming his enemies became urgent, this party became military. A few successes in battle attracted to him men who were interested in fighting and who were willing to accept his religion as a condition of membership of his party, which soon began to assume a national form. Mahomet early found an excuse for attacking the Jews, who were naturally in the way of his schemes. The Bani Nadīr were expelled, the Bani Quraiza slaughtered. By the time he had successfully stormed the rich Jewish town of Khaibar, he had found that it was better to allow industrious Jews to remain in Arabia as payers of tribute than to expel or kill them: this policy he followed afterwards. The capture of Mecca (630) was not only an evidence of his growing power, which induced Arabs throughout the peninsula to join him, but gave him a valuable centre of pilgrimage, in which he was able by a politic adoption of some of the heathen Arabian ceremonies into his own rites to win men over the more easily to his own cause. At his death in 623 Mahomet left Arabia practically unified. It is true that rival prophets were leading rebellions in various parts of Arabia, that the tax-collectors were not always paid, and that the warriors of the land were much distressed for want of work owing to the brotherhood of Arabs proclaimed by Mahomet. The tribes were a seething mass of restlessness, their old feuds ready to break out again. But they had realized that they had common interests. The power of the foreigner in Arabia was broken. Islam promised rich booty for those who fought and won, paradise for those who fell.

Time of Mahomet.—At the time Mahomet arrived, the country was inhabited by various tribes, some more or less established under the governments of southern Arabia, Kinda, Hira, and Ghassan, which depended on Abyssinia, Persia, and Rome (i.e. Byzantium); others in the Hejaz were ruled by smaller communities led by prominent families, while in different regions of the peninsula there were nomadic Arabs who still followed the old traditions of family and tribal rule, forming no state, sometimes aligning themselves with one or another of the major powers as it suited them. Additionally, there were some Jewish tribes and families originating partly from migrations from Palestine and partly from converts among the Arabs themselves. Mahomet appealed to both religion and patriotism—or rather, he created a sense of both. For Mahomet as a religious teacher and for details of his career, see Mahomet. Here, it’s enough to summarize his efforts to unify and then conquer Arabia. Although the external conquests of the Arabs are more properly associated with the caliphate, they were a natural result of the prophet’s vision. His concept of Arabia for the Arabians could only be achieved by urging the great kings of the neighboring nations to acknowledge Islam; otherwise, Abyssinia, Persia, and Rome (Byzantium) would continue their efforts to influence and control the peninsula. Tradition states that a few years before his death, he actually sent letters to Emperor Heraclius, the negus of Abyssinia, the king of Persia, Cyrus, the patriarch of Alexandria, and the “Mukaukis” of Egypt, urging them to accept Islam and threatening punishment if they refused. However, the responsibility for enforcing these threats fell to his successors; the prophet's mission was mainly to unify and subjugate Arabia. This work, which had barely started in Mecca, truly began after the migration to Medina with the formation of a group—the Muhājirun (Refugees or Emigrants) and Ansār (Helpers or Defenders)—who accepted Mahomet as their spiritual leader. As the need to defeat his enemies grew urgent, this group became militant. A few victories in battle attracted men who were eager to fight and were willing to adopt his religion in order to join his ranks, which soon started to take on a national identity. Mahomet quickly found a reason to attack the Jews, who were clearly obstructing his plans. The Bani Nadīr were expelled, and the Bani Quraiza were slaughtered. By the time he successfully captured the wealthy Jewish town of Khaibar, he realized it was better to let industrious Jews remain in Arabia as tribute payers rather than expel or kill them; this became his ongoing policy. The capture of Mecca (630) not only demonstrated his increasing power, encouraging Arabs throughout the peninsula to join him, but also provided him with a crucial pilgrimage center, where he was able to win people over more easily by politically integrating some of the pagan Arabian rituals into his own religious practices. At the time of his death in 623, Mahomet had effectively unified Arabia. It’s true that rival prophets were inciting rebellions in different regions of Arabia, that the tax collectors were often unpaid, and that the warriors were left wanting for work due to the brotherhood of Arabs that Mahomet had proclaimed. The tribes were a volatile mix of unrest, with old feuds ready to flare up again. But they had come to realize they shared common interests. The influence of outsiders in Arabia was diminished. Islam offered immense rewards for those who fought and won, and paradise for those who fell.

Early Caliphs.1 I. Conquest.—One task of the early caliphs was to find an outlet for the restless fighting spirit. Abu Bekr (632-634), the first of these caliphs, was a man of simple life and profound faith. He understood the intention of Mahomet as to foreign nations, and set himself resolutely to carry it out in the face of much difficulty. Hence as soon as he assumed office he sent out the army already chosen to advance against the Romans in the north. The successful reduction of the rebels in Arabia enabled him in his first year to send his great general Khālid with his Arab warriors first against Persians, then against Romans. His early death prevented him from seeing the fruits of his policy. Under the second caliph Omar (634-644) the Persians were defeated at Kadesiya (Kadessia), and Irak was completely subdued and the new cities of Kufa and Basra were 266 founded (635). In the same year Damascus fell into the hands of the Arabs under Abu ‛Ubaida. In 636 Jerusalem fell and received a visit from the caliph. Three years later the fateful step was taken of appointing Moawiya (Mu’awīyya) governor of Syria. In 640 ‛Amr-ibn-el-Ass (Amr ibn al-‛Ās) invaded Egypt and the following year took Alexandria and founded Fostat (which later became Cairo). The victory at Nehavend in 641 over the Persians, the flight of the last Sassanid king and the capture of Rei or Rai (class. Rhagae) in 643 meant the entire subjugation of Persia and crowned the conquests of Omar’s caliphate. The reign of the third caliph Othman (644-656) was marked by the beginning of that internal strife which was to ruin Arabia; but the foreign conquests continued. In the north the Moslem arms reached Armenia and Asia Minor; on the west they were successful as far as Carthage on the north coast of Africa. After the murder of Othman, ‛Ali (656-661) became caliph, but Moawiya, governor of Syria, soon rebelled on the pretext of avenging the death of Othman. After the battle of Siffin (657) arbitration was resorted to for the settlement of the rival claims. By a trick ‛Ali was deposed (658), and the Omayyad dynasty was established with its capital at Damascus.

Early Caliphs.1 I. Conquest.—One of the early caliphs' tasks was to channel the restless fighting spirit. Abu Bekr (632-634), the first of these caliphs, lived a simple life and had deep faith. He grasped Mahomet's intentions regarding foreign nations and committed himself to realizing them despite many challenges. Thus, as soon as he took office, he sent the pre-selected army to advance against the Romans in the north. His successful defeat of the rebels in Arabia allowed him in his first year to dispatch his great general Khālid with his Arab warriors first against the Persians, and then against the Romans. His early death prevented him from witnessing the results of his efforts. Under the second caliph Omar (634-644), the Persians were defeated at Kadesiya (Kadessia), and Irak was fully conquered, leading to the founding of the new cities of Kufa and Basra (635). That same year, Damascus was captured by the Arabs under Abu ‛Ubaida. In 636, Jerusalem fell and was visited by the caliph. Three years later, a critical decision was made to appoint Moawiya (Mu’awīyya) as governor of Syria. In 640 ‛Amr-ibn-el-Ass (Amr ibn al-‛Ās) invaded Egypt, and the following year captured Alexandria and founded Fostat (which later became Cairo). The victory at Nehavend in 641 over the Persians, the flight of the last Sassanid king, and the capture of Rei or Rai (class. Rhagae) in 643 resulted in the complete subjugation of Persia and marked the crowning achievements of Omar’s caliphate. The reign of the third caliph Othman (644-656) was characterized by the onset of internal conflict that would devastate Arabia; however, the foreign conquests persisted. In the north, Muslim forces reached Armenia and Asia Minor; in the west, they achieved success as far as Carthage on the northern coast of Africa. Following Othman's murder, ‛Ali (656-661) ascended to the caliphate, but Moawiya, the governor of Syria, quickly rebelled under the pretense of avenging Othman's death. After the battle of Siffin (657), arbitration was sought to resolve the competing claims. Through a ruse, ‛Ali was deposed (658), leading to the establishment of the Omayyad dynasty with its capital in Damascus.

During these early years the Arabs had not only made conquests by land, but had found an outlet for their energy at sea. In 640 Omar sent a fleet of boats across the Red Sea to protect the Moslems on the Abyssinian coast. Institution of navy. The boats were wrecked. Omar was so terrified by this that when Moawiya applied to him for permission to use ships for an attack on the islands of the Levant, he resolutely refused. Othman was less careful, and allowed a fleet from Africa to help in the conquests of the Levant and Asia Minor. In 649 he sanctioned the establishment of a maritime service, on condition that it should be voluntary. Abu Qais, appointed admiral, showed its usefulness by the capture of Cyprus. In 652 Abu Sarh with a fleet from Egypt won a naval battle over the Byzantine fleet near Alexandria.

During these early years, the Arabs not only made land conquests but also found a way to channel their energy at sea. In 640, Omar sent a fleet of boats across the Red Sea to protect the Muslims on the Abyssinian coast. Navy establishment. The boats were wrecked. Omar was so frightened by this that when Moawiya asked him for permission to use ships to attack the islands of the Levant, he firmly refused. Othman was less cautious and allowed a fleet from Africa to assist in the conquests of the Levant and Asia Minor. In 649, he approved the establishment of a maritime service, on the condition that participation would be voluntary. Abu Qais, the appointed admiral, demonstrated its usefulness by capturing Cyprus. In 652, Abu Sarh, with a fleet from Egypt, won a naval battle against the Byzantine fleet near Alexandria.

2. Internal Affairs.—In the meantime what had become of Arabia and its unification? The first task of Abu Bekr had been to reduce those rebels who threatened to destroy that unity even before it was fully established. This he did by the aid of the great general Khālid. First he swept down on the Bani Hanīfa in Yemāma, who with their rival prophet Mosailama (Mosailima) and 40,000 men were in arms. The battle of Yemama (633) was fierce and decisive. Mosailama was slain. The Bani Hanīfa returned to Islam. Bahrein was influenced by this battle, and the rebellion there, which was threatening, was crushed. Oman was reconquered by Huddhaifa, who became its governor. Ikrima settled Māhra. Muhājir, with the help of Ikrima, succeeded with difficulty, but thoroughly, in defeating Amr ibn Ma’dikarib and Qais ibn ‛Abd Yaghūth in Yemen and Ashath ibn Qais in Hadramut. The Hejaz and Tehama were cleared of the plundering nomads by ‛Attāb and Ṭāhir. At the end of the first year of his caliphate Abu Bekr saw Arabia united under Islam. The new national feeling demanded that all Arabs should be free men, so the caliph ordained that all Arab slaves should be freed on easy terms. The solidarity of Arabia survived the first foreign conquests. It was not intended that Arabs should settle in the conquered lands except as armies of occupation. Thus it was at first forbidden that Arabs should buy or possess land in these countries. Kūfa was to be only a military camp, as was Fostat in Egypt. The taxes with the booty from conquests were to be sent to Arabia for distribution among the Moslems. Omar tried to prevent the advance of conquests lest Arabia should suffer. “I would rather the safety of my people than thousands of spoil and further conquest.” But men could not be prevented from pouring out from their homes in search of new conquests and more booty. Many of those who went forth did not return. They acquired property and rank in the new lands. Kūfa attracted chiefly men of south Arabia, Basra those of the north. Both became great cities, each with a population of 150,000 to 200,000 Arabians. Yet so long as the caliphs lived in Medina, the capital of Arabia was the capital of the expanding Arabian empire. To it was brought a large share of the booty. The caliphs were chosen there, and there the rules for the administration were framed. Thence went out the governors to their provinces. Omar was the great organizer of Arabian affairs. He compiled the Koran, instituted the civil list, regulated the military organization. He, too, desired that Mahomet’s wish should be carried out and that Arabia should be purely Moslem. To this end he expelled the Christians from Nejrān and gave them lands in Syria and Irak, where they were allowed to live in peace on payment of tribute. The Jews, too, were shortly after expelled from Khaibar. The secondary position that Arabia was beginning to assume in the Arabian empire is clearly marked in the progress of events during the caliphate of Othman. In his appointments to governorships and other offices, as well as in his distribution of spoil, Othman showed a marked preference for the members of his own tribe the Koreish (Quraish) and the members of his own family the Bani Omayya (Umayya). The other Arab tribes became increasingly jealous of the Koreish, while among the Koreish themselves the Hāshimite family came to hate the Omayyad, which now had much power, although it had been among the last to accept Islam and never was very strict in its religious duties. But the quarrels which led to the murder of Othmān were fomented not so much in Arabia as in Kūfa and Baṣra and Fostat. In these cities the rival parties were composed of the most energetic fighting men, who were brought into the most intimate contact with one another, and who kept up their quarrels from the home land. In Kūfa a number of the Koreish had settled, and their arrogance became insupportable. The governors of all these towns were of Othman’s own family. After some years of growing dissatisfaction deputies from these places came to Medina, and the result was the murder of the caliph. Syria alone remained loyal to the house of Omayya, and Othmān had been advised to take refuge there, but had refused. Arabia itself counted for little in the strife. Yet its prestige was not altogether lost. After the murder the rebels were unwilling to return home until a new caliph had been chosen in the capital. The Egyptian rebels managed to gain most influence, and, in accordance with their desire, ‛Alī was appointed caliph by the citizens of Medina. But Medina itself was being corrupted by the constant influx of captives, who, employed at first as servants, soon became powerful enough to dictate to their masters. In the struggle that ensued upon the election of ‛Alī, Arabia was involved. Ayesha, Ṭalḥa and Zobair, who were strong in Mecca, succeeded in obtaining possession of Baṣra, but were defeated in 656 at the battle of the Camel (see Ali). In the south of Arabia ‛Alī succeeded in establishing his own governor in Yemen, though the government treasure was carried off to Mecca. But the centre of strife was not to be Arabia. When ‛Alī left Medina to secure Basra, he abandoned it as the capital of the Arabian empire. With the success of Moawiya Damascus became the capital of the caliphate (658) and Arabia became a mere province, though always of importance because of its possession of the two sacred cities Mecca and Medina. Both these cities were secured by Moawiya in 660, and at the same time Yemen was punished for its adherence to ‛Alī. The final blow to any political pretensions of Medina was dealt by the caliph when he had his son Yazīd declared as his successor, thus taking away any claim on the part of the citizens of Medina to elect to the caliphate.

2. Internal Affairs.—Meanwhile, what happened with Arabia and its unification? The first priority for Abu Bekr was to subdue the rebels threatening to undermine that unity before it was fully established. He accomplished this with the help of the great general Khālid. First, he launched an attack on the Bani Hanīfa in Yemāma, who, led by their rival prophet Mosailama, were armed with 40,000 men. The battle of Yemama (633) was intense and decisive. Mosailama was killed, and the Bani Hanīfa returned to Islam. This battle also affected Bahrein, where a brewing rebellion was crushed. Oman was reconquered by Huddhaifa, who became its governor. Ikrima settled Māhra. With Ikrima’s assistance, Muhājir managed, albeit with difficulty, to defeat Amr ibn Ma’dikarib and Qais ibn ‛Abd Yaghūth in Yemen, as well as Ashath ibn Qais in Hadramut. The Hejaz and Tehama were cleared of plundering nomads by ‛Attāb and Ṭāhir. By the end of his first year as caliph, Abu Bekr saw Arabia united under Islam. The new national sentiment demanded that all Arabs be treated as free men, so the caliph decreed that all Arab slaves would be freed under manageable terms. The unity of Arabia withstood the initial foreign conquests. It was not intended for Arabs to settle in the conquered territories, except as occupying forces. Hence, it was initially forbidden for Arabs to buy or own land in these areas. Kūfa was to be merely a military camp, as was Fostat in Egypt. The taxes and spoils from conquests were to be sent back to Arabia for distribution among the Muslims. Omar sought to prevent the expansion of conquests to safeguard Arabia from harm. “I would prioritize the safety of my people over thousands in loot and further conquests.” However, people could not be stopped from leaving their homes in search of new conquests and treasures. Many who ventured out did not return; they established property and status in the new territories. Kūfa attracted primarily those from southern Arabia, while Basra saw a mix from the north. Both grew into significant cities, with populations ranging from 150,000 to 200,000 Arabs. Nonetheless, as long as the caliphs resided in Medina, it remained the capital of the expanding Arabian empire. A considerable share of the spoils was sent there. The caliphs were appointed there, and it was where administrative rules were created. Governors were dispatched from there to their respective provinces. Omar was a key organizer of Arabian affairs. He compiled the Koran, set up the civil list, and regulated military structure. He also aimed to fulfill Mahomet's wish for Arabia to be entirely Muslim. To achieve this, he expelled Christians from Nejrān, offering them land in Syria and Irak, where they could reside peacefully in exchange for tribute. Shortly after, Jews were expelled from Khaibar. The secondary role that Arabia began to adopt within the Arabian empire is evident in the unfolding events during Othman's caliphate. In his appointments to governorships and other positions, as well as in the distribution of spoils, Othman showed a clear bias towards his own tribe, the Koreish, and his family, the Bani Omayya. This favoritism created rising envy from other Arab tribes towards the Koreish, and within the Koreish, the Hāshimite family grew to despise the powerful Omayyad, who had been among the last to accept Islam and were never particularly strict in their religious observance. However, the disputes that led to Othmān's murder were fueled more outside of Arabia than within it—in Kūfa, Baṣra, and Fostat. In these cities, rival factions were formed by the most energetic fighters, who maintained their quarrels from their homeland. Many Koreish settled in Kūfa, and their arrogance became unbearable. The governors of all these towns were from Othman’s family. After years of mounting dissatisfaction, representatives from these regions traveled to Medina, resulting in the caliph’s assassination. Syria remained loyal to the Omayya family, and Othmān was advised to seek refuge there, but he declined. Arabia itself was of little consequence in the discord. Still, its prestige was not completely lost. After the murder, the rebels hesitated to return home until a new caliph was chosen in the capital. The Egyptian rebels gained the most influence and, at their insistence, ‛Alī was appointed caliph by the citizens of Medina. However, Medina was becoming corrupted by the continuous influx of captives, who, initially serving as attendants, soon became powerful enough to dictate terms to their masters. The conflict following ‛Alī's election involved Arabia. Ayesha, Ṭalḥa, and Zobair, strong in Mecca, took control of Baṣra but were defeated in 656 at the battle of the Camel (see Ali). In southern Arabia, ‛Alī managed to establish his own governor in Yemen, although the government funds were whisked away to Mecca. Yet the focal point of the conflict was not Arabia. When ‛Alī left Medina to secure Basra, he effectively abandoned it as the capital of the Arabian empire. After Moawiya’s success, Damascus became the capital of the caliphate (658), and Arabia was reduced to a mere province, although it remained significant due to its ownership of the two holy cities, Mecca and Medina. Moawiya secured both cities in 660 and simultaneously punished Yemen for supporting ‛Alī. The final strike to Medina's political claims came when the caliph named his son Yazīd as his successor, thereby eliminating any claim by the citizens of Medina to elect the caliph.

The Omayyads.—The early years of the Omayyads were years of constant strife in Arabia. The Kharijites who had opposed ‛Alī on the ground that he had no right to allow the appeal to arbitration, were defeated at Nahrawān or Nahrwān (658), but those who escaped became fierce propagandists against the Koreish, some claiming that the caliph should be chosen by the Faithful from any tribe of the Arabs, some that there should be no caliph at all, that God alone was their ruler and that the government should be carried on by a council. They broke up into many sects, and were long a disturbing political force in Arabia as elsewhere. On the death of ‛Alī his house was represented by his two sons Ḥasan and Ḥosain (Ḥusain). Ḥasan soon made peace with Moawiya. On the accession of Yazid, Ḥosain refused homage and raised an army, but was slain at 267 Kerbela (680). ‛Ābdallah ibn Zobair (of the house of Hashim) immediately stepped forward in Mecca as the avenger of ‛Alī’s family and the champion of religion. The two sacred cities supported him. Medina was besieged and sacked by the troops of Yazīd (682) and Mecca was besieged the following year. The siege was raised in the third month on the news of the death of Yazīd, but not before the Ka‛ba had been destroyed. ‛Ābdallah remained in Mecca recognized as caliph in Arabia, and soon after in Egypt and even a part of Syria. He defeated the troops of Merwān I., but could not win the support of the Khārijites. In 691 Abdalmalik (‛Abdul-Malik) determined to crush his rival and sent his general Hajjāj against Mecca. The siege was begun in March 692, and in October the city was taken and ‛Ābdallah slain. Abdalmalik was now supreme in Arabia and throughout the Moslem world. During the remaining years of the Omayyad dynasty (i.e. until 750) little is heard of Arabia in history. The conquests of Islam in Spain on the one side and India on the other had little or no effect on it. It was merely a province.

The Omayyads.—The early years of the Omayyads were filled with constant conflict in Arabia. The Kharijites, who had opposed ‛Alī because he allowed arbitration, were defeated at Nahrawān or Nahrwān (658). However, those who escaped became passionate advocates against the Koreish. Some claimed that the caliph should be chosen by the Faithful from any Arab tribe, while others believed there should be no caliph at all, stating that God alone was their ruler and that governance should be conducted by a council. They fractured into many sects and remained a disruptive political force in Arabia and beyond. After ‛Alī’s death, his legacy was carried on by his two sons, Ḥasan and Ḥosain (Ḥusain). Ḥasan soon made peace with Moawiya. When Yazid took over, Ḥosain refused to pledge loyalty and raised an army, but was killed at 267 Kerbela (680). ‛Ābdallah ibn Zobair (from the house of Hashim) quickly emerged in Mecca as the avenger of ‛Alī’s family and the defender of the faith. The two holy cities backed him. Medina was besieged and looted by Yazīd's troops (682), and Mecca faced a siege the year after. The siege was lifted in the third month after news of Yazīd's death, but not before the Ka‛ba was destroyed. ‛Ābdallah remained in Mecca, recognized as the caliph in Arabia and soon in Egypt and parts of Syria. He defeated the forces of Merwān I., but could not gain the support of the Khārijites. In 691, Abdalmalik (‛Abdul-Malik) decided to eliminate his rival and sent his general Hajjāj to Mecca. The siege began in March 692, and by October, the city was captured and ‛Ābdallah was killed. Abdalmalik was now the dominant power in Arabia and across the Muslim world. For the remainder of the Omayyad dynasty (i.e. until 750), Arabia plays a minor role in history. The Islamic conquests in Spain on one side and India on the other had little to no impact on it. It was simply regarded as a province.

The ‛Abbāsids.—The accession of Abul ‛Abbās (of the house of Hāshim) and the transference of the capital of the caliphate from Damascus to Kūfa, then Anbar and soon after (in 760) to Bagdad meant still further degradation to Arabia and Arabs. From the beginning the ‛Abbāsids depended for help on Persians and Turks, and the chief offices of state were frequently filled with foreigners. In one thing only the Arabs conquered to the end; that was in their language. The study of Arabic was taken up by lexicographers, grammarians and poets (mostly of foreign origin) with a zeal rarely shown elsewhere. The old Arabian war spirit was dying. Although the Arabians, as a rule, were in favour of the Omayyad family, they could not affect the succession of the ‛Abbāsids. They returned more and more to their old inter-tribal disputes. They formed now not only a mere branch of the empire of the caliphate, but a branch deriving little life from and giving less to the main stock. In 762 there was a rebellion in favour of a descendant of ‛Alī, but it was put down with great severity by the army of the caliph Manṣūr. A more local ‛Alyite revolt in Mecca and Medina was crushed in 785. In the contest between the two sons of Harūn al Rashīd all Arabia sided with Mamūn (812). In 845-846 the lawless raids of Bedouin tribes compelled the caliph Wāthiq to send his Turkish general Bogha, who was more successful in the north than in the centre and south of Arabia in restoring peace.

The ‛Abbāsids.—The rise of Abul ‛Abbās (from the Hāshim family) and the move of the capital of the caliphate from Damascus to Kūfa, then Anbar, and shortly after (in 760) to Baghdad led to even more decline for Arabia and the Arabs. From the start, the ‛Abbāsids relied on support from Persians and Turks, and high-ranking government positions were often held by foreigners. The one thing the Arabs maintained until the end was their language. The study of Arabic became a passion among lexicographers, grammarians, and poets (mostly from foreign backgrounds) with a dedication rarely seen elsewhere. The old Arabian warrior spirit was fading. Although Arabs generally favored the Omayyad family, they couldn't influence the succession of the ‛Abbāsids. They increasingly returned to their old tribal conflicts. They became not just a minor part of the caliphate's empire but a branch that drew little life from it and contributed even less. In 762, there was a rebellion supporting a descendant of ‛Alī, but it was harshly suppressed by the army of Caliph Manṣūr. A more localized ‛Alīite revolt in Mecca and Medina was crushed in 785. During the struggle between the two sons of Harūn al Rashīd, all of Arabia backed Mamūn (812). In 845-846, the unruly raids by Bedouin tribes forced Caliph Wāthiq to send his Turkish general Bogha, who had more success in the north than in central and southern Arabia in restoring stability.

The Carmathians.—Towards the close of the 9th century Arabia was disturbed by the rise of a new movement which during the next hundred years dominated the peninsula, and at its close left it shattered never to be united again. In the year 880 Yemen was listening to the propaganda of the new sect of the Carmathians (q.v.) or followers of Hamdān Qarmaṭ. Four years later these had become a public force. In 900 ‛Abū Sa‛id al-Jannābi, who had been sent to Bahrein by Hamdān, had secured a large part of this province and had won the city of Kaṭif (Ketif) which contained many Jews and Persians. The Arabs who lived more inland were mostly Bedouin who found the obligations of Islam irksome, and do not seem to have made a very vigorous opposition to the Carmathians who took Hajar the capital of Bahrein in 903. From this they made successful attacks on Yemāma (Yamama), and attempts only partially successful at first at Oman. In 906 the court at Bagdad learned that these sectaries had gained almost all Yemen and were threatening Mecca and Medina. Abū Sa‛īd was assassinated (913) in his palace at Laḥsa (which in 926 was fortified and became the Carmathian capital of Bahrein). His son Sa‛īd succeeded him, but proved too weak and was deposed and succeeded by his brother Abu Ṭāhir. His success was constant and the caliphate was brought very low by him. In Arabia he subjugated Oman, and swooping down on the west in 929 he horrified the Moslem world by capturing Mecca and carrying off the sacred black stone to Bahrein. The Fatimite caliph ‛Obaidallah (see Fatimites), to whom Abu Tahir professed allegiance, publicly wrote to him to restore the stone, but there is some reason to believe that he secretly encouraged him to retain it. In 939, however, the stone was restored and pilgrimages to the holy cities were allowed to pass unmolested on payment of a tax. So long as Abū Ṭāhir lived the Carmathians controlled Arabia. After his death, however, they quarrelled with the Fatimite rulers of Egypt (969) and began to lose their influence. In 985 they were completely defeated in Irak, and soon after lost control of the pilgrimages. Oman recovered its independence. Three years later Kaṭīf, at that time their chief city, was besieged and taken by a Bedouin sheik, and subsequently their political power in Arabia came to an end. It was significant that their power fell into the hands of Bedouins. Arabia was now completely disorganized, and was only nominally subject to the caliphate. The attempt of Mahomet to unify Arabia had failed. The country was once more split up into small governments, more or less independent, and groups of wandering tribes carrying on their petty feuds. Of the history of these during the next few centuries little is known, except in the case of the Hejaz. Here the presence of the sacred cities led writers to record their annals (cf. F. Wüstenfeld’s Die Chroniken der Stadt Mekka, 4 vols., Leipzig, 1857-1861). The two cities were governed by Arabian nobles (sherīfs), often at feud with one another, recognizing formally the overlordship of the caliph at Bagdad or the caliph of Egypt. Thus in 966 the name of the caliph Moti was banished from the prayers at Mecca, and an ‛Alyite took possession of the government of the city and recognized the Egyptian caliph as his master. About a century later (1075-1094) the ‛Abbāsid caliph was again recognized as spiritual head owing to the success in arms of his protector, the Seljuk Malik-Shah. With the fall of the Bagdad caliphate all attempts at control from that quarter came to an end. After the visit of the Sultaft Bibars (1269) Mecca was governed by an amir dependent on Egypt. Outside the two cities anarchy prevailed, and the pilgrimage was frequently unsafe owing to marauding Bedouins. In 1517 the Osmānlī Turkish sultan Selim conquered Egypt, and having received the right of succession to the caliphate was solemnly presented by the sherīf of Mecca with the keys of the city, and recognized as the spiritual head of Islam and ruler of the Hejaz. At the same time Yemen, which since the 9th century had been in the power of a number of small dynasties ruling in Zubed, San‛ā, Sa‛da and Aden, passed into the hands of the Turk.

The Carmathians.—Towards the end of the 9th century, Arabia was shaken by the emergence of a new movement that dominated the region for the next hundred years and ultimately left it fractured, never to be unified again. In 880, Yemen was hearing the messages of the new sect called the Carmathians (q.v.) or followers of Hamdān Qarmaṭ. By 884, they had become a notable force. In 900, ‛Abū Sa‛id al-Jannābi, who had been sent to Bahrain by Hamdān, had taken control of a large part of the province and captured the city of Kaṭif (Ketif), which had many Jewish and Persian residents. The Arabs living further inland were mostly Bedouins who found the requirements of Islam burdensome and didn’t seem to put up much resistance to the Carmathians, who seized Hajar, the capital of Bahrain, in 903. From there, they launched successful campaigns against Yemāma (Yamama) and only partially successful attempts at Oman initially. In 906, the court in Baghdad learned that these sectarians had gained almost all of Yemen and were threatening Mecca and Medina. Abū Sa‛īd was assassinated (913) in his palace at Laḥsa, which was fortified in 926 and became the Carmathian capital of Bahrain. His son Sa‛īd succeeded him but proved too weak and was replaced by his brother Abu Ṭāhir. Abu Ṭāhir's successes were continuous, and he greatly weakened the caliphate. He conquered Oman and, in a shocking move in 929, captured Mecca and took the sacred black stone to Bahrain, horrifying the Muslim world. The Fatimite caliph ‛Obaidallah (see Fatimites), to whom Abu Ṭahir claimed allegiance, publicly urged him to return the stone, but there’s reason to believe he secretly encouraged him to keep it. By 939, however, the stone was returned, and pilgrimages to the holy cities were allowed to resume without interference upon payment of a tax. As long as Abū Ṭāhir was alive, the Carmathians controlled Arabia. After his death, though, they clashed with the Fatimite rulers of Egypt (969) and began to lose their influence. By 985, they were completely defeated in Irak, and shortly after lost control of the pilgrimages. Oman regained its independence. Three years later, Kaṭīf, then their main city, was besieged and captured by a Bedouin sheikh, marking the end of their political power in Arabia. It was significant that their power shifted to the Bedouins. Arabia was now completely disorganized, only nominally under the control of the caliphate. Muhammad's attempt to unify Arabia had failed. The country returned to being split into small, mostly independent governments and groups of wandering tribes engaged in their petty disputes. Little is known about the history of these groups over the next few centuries, except in the case of the Hejaz. The presence of the sacred cities prompted writers to document their history (cf. F. Wüstenfeld’s Die Chroniken der Stadt Mekka, 4 vols., Leipzig, 1857-1861). The two cities were governed by Arabian nobles (sherīfs), often in conflict with one another, formally recognizing the authority of the caliph in Baghdad or the Egyptian caliph. Thus, in 966, the name of the caliph Moti was removed from prayers in Mecca, and an ‛Alyite took control of the city’s government, recognizing the Egyptian caliph as his ruler. About a century later (1075-1094), the ‛Abbāsid caliph was again acknowledged as the spiritual leader due to the military success of his protector, the Seljuk Malik-Shah. With the fall of the Baghdad caliphate, all attempts at control from that direction ceased. After the visit from Sultan Bibars (1269), Mecca was governed by an amir under Egypt’s authority. Outside the two cities, chaos reigned, and pilgrimages were frequently unsafe due to banditry from Bedouins. In 1517, the Ottoman Turkish sultan Selim conquered Egypt, and after receiving the right to the caliphate, was formally presented with the keys to the city by the sherīf of Mecca, recognized as the spiritual leader of Islam and ruler of the Hejaz. Simultaneously, Yemen, which had been under the control of several small dynasties ruling in Zubed, San‛ā, Sa‛da, and Aden since the 9th century, came under Turkish rule.

For the history of Yemen during this period cf. H.C. Kay, Omarah’s History of Yaman (London, 1892), and S. Lane-Poole, The Mahommedan Dynasties, pp. 87-103 (Westminster, 1894). Little more than a century later (1630), a Yemen noble Khāṣim succeeded in expelling the Turk and establishing a native imāmate, which lasted until 1871. For descriptions of it in the 18th century cf. C. Niebuhr’s accounts of his travels in Arabia in 1761.

For the history of Yemen during this period, see H.C. Kay, Omarah’s History of Yaman (London, 1892), and S. Lane-Poole, The Mahommedan Dynasties, pp. 87-103 (Westminster, 1894). Just over a century later (1630), a Yemeni noble named Khāṣim managed to drive out the Turks and set up a native imāmate, which lasted until 1871. For descriptions of it in the 18th century, refer to C. Niebuhr’s accounts of his travels in Arabia in 1761.

Oman.—Since the separation from the caliphate (before 1000 A.D.) Oman had remained independent. For more than a century it was governed by five elected imāms, who were chosen from the tribe of al-Azd and generally lived at Nizwa. After them the Bani Nebhān gained the upper hand and established a succession of kings (māliks) who governed from 1154 to 1406. During this time the country was twice invaded by Persians. The “kings of Hormūz” claimed authority over the coast land until the beginning of the 16th century. In 1435 the people rose against the tyranny of the Bani Nebhan and restored the imamate of the tribe al-Azd. In 1508 the Portuguese under Albuquerque seized most of the east coast of Oman. In 1624 a new dynasty arose in the interior, when Nāṣir ibn Murshid of the Yariba (Ya‛aruba) tribe (originally from Yemen) was elected imām and established his capital at Rustak. He was able to subdue the petty princes of the country, and the Portuguese were compelled to give up several towns and pay tribute for their residence at Muscat. About 1651 the Portuguese were finally expelled from this city, and about 1698 from the Omanite settlements on the east coast of Africa.

Oman.—Since breaking away from the caliphate (before 1000 CE), Oman has remained independent. For over a century, it was led by five elected imāms chosen from the al-Azd tribe, who mostly lived in Nizwa. After that, the Bani Nebhān took control and established a series of kings (māliks) who ruled from 1154 to 1406. During this period, the country experienced two invasions by the Persians. The “kings of Hormūz” claimed sovereignty over the coastal region until the early 16th century. In 1435, the people revolted against the oppression of the Bani Nebhan and reinstated the imamate of the al-Azd tribe. In 1508, the Portuguese under Albuquerque took over most of Oman's east coast. In 1624, a new dynasty emerged in the interior when Nāṣir ibn Murshid of the Yariba (Ya‛aruba) tribe (originally from Yemen) was elected imām and set up his capital in Rustak. He managed to defeat the minor princes in the country, and the Portuguese were forced to surrender several towns and pay tribute for their presence in Muscat. Around 1651, the Portuguese were finally driven out of this city, and by about 1698, they were expelled from the Omani settlements on the east coast of Africa.

For the history of Oman from 661 to 1856 cf. G.P. Badger, History of the Imāms and Seyyids of Oman by Salil-ibn-Razik (London, Hakluyt Society, 1871).

For the history of Oman from 661 to 1856, see G.P. Badger, History of the Imāms and Seyyids of Oman by Salil-ibn-Razik (London, Hakluyt Society, 1871).

(G. W. T.)

Wahhābi Movement.—Modern Arabian history begins with that of the Wahhabi movement in the middle of the 18th century. Its originator, Mahommed Ibn Abdul Wahhāb, was born (1691) 268 at Ayana in Nejd, and after studying in Basra and Damascus, and making the pilgrimage to Mecca returned to his native country and settled down at Huremala near Deraiya. The abuses and corruptions which had overgrown the practice of orthodox Islam had deeply impressed him, and he set to work to combat them, and to inculcate on all good Moslems a return to the pure simplicity of their original faith. In 1742 Mahommed Ibn Saud, sheik of Deraiya, accepted his doctrines, and enforced them by his sword with such effect that before his death in 1765 the whole of eastern Nejd and El Hasa was converted to the faith of Abdul Wahhab, and accepted the political supremacy of Ibn Saūd. His son and successor, Abdul Aziz, in a rapid series of successful campaigns, extended his dominion and that of the reformed faith far beyond the limits of Nejd. His attacks on the pilgrim caravans, begun in 1783 and constantly repeated, startled the Mahommedan world,2 and compelled the attention of the sultan, as the nominal protector of the faithful. In 1798 a Turkish force was sent from Bagdad into El Hasa, but was compelled to retreat without accomplishing anything, and its discomfiture added much to the renown of the Wahhābi power. In 1801 Saud, son of the amir Abdul Aziz, led an expedition to the Euphrates, and on the festival of Bairam, the 20th of April, stormed Kerbela, put the defenders to the sword, destroyed the sacred tomb, scattered the sacred relics and returned laden with the treasures, accumulated during centuries in the sanctuary of the Shiā faith. Mecca itself was taken; plundering was forbidden, but the tombs of the saints and all objects of veneration were ruthlessly destroyed, and all ceremonies which seemed in the eye of the stern puritan conqueror to suggest the taint of idolatry were forbidden.

Wahhābi Movement.—Modern Arabian history begins with the Wahhabi movement in the mid-18th century. Its founder, Mohammed Ibn Abdul Wahhab, was born in 1691 at Ayana in Nejd. After studying in Basra and Damascus and making the pilgrimage to Mecca, he returned to his homeland and settled in Huremala near Deraiya. The abuses and corruptions surrounding orthodox Islam had a profound impact on him, leading him to fight against them and encourage all good Muslims to return to the pure simplicity of their original faith. In 1742, Mohammed Ibn Saud, the sheik of Deraiya, embraced his teachings and enforced them effectively with his military might. By the time of his death in 1765, the entire eastern Nejd and El Hasa had adopted Abdul Wahhab's faith and acknowledged Ibn Saud's political authority. His son and successor, Abdul Aziz, rapidly expanded their realm and the reformed faith well beyond Nejd through a series of successful campaigns. His assaults on the pilgrim caravans, which began in 1783 and were consistently repeated, shocked the Muslim world and demanded the attention of the sultan, the nominal protector of the faithful. In 1798, a Turkish force was dispatched from Baghdad to El Hasa but was forced to retreat without achieving any success, which greatly boosted the reputation of the Wahhabi power. In 1801, Saud, son of Amir Abdul Aziz, led an expedition to the Euphrates and, on the festival of Bairam, April 20th, attacked Kerbela, slaughtered its defenders, destroyed the sacred tomb, dispersed the holy relics, and returned with treasures accumulated over centuries in the Shi’a faith’s sanctuary. Mecca was also captured; while plundering was prohibited, the tombs of saints and all revered items were ruthlessly destroyed, and all ceremonies deemed to hint at idolatry were banned.

On the 14th of October 1802 the amir Abdul Aziz, at the age of eighty-two years, was murdered by a Shiā fanatic when at prayers in the mosque of Deraiya, and Saūd, who had for many years led the Wahhābi armies, became the reigning amir. In 1804 Medina was taken and with its fall all resistance ceased. The Wahhabi empire had now attained its zenith, a settled government was established able to enforce law and order in the desert and in the towns, and a spirit of Arabian nationality had grown up which bade fair to extend the Wahhābi dominion over all the Arab race. It already, however, bore within it the germ of decay; the accumulation of treasure in the capital had led to a corruption of the simple manners of the earlier times; the exhaustion of the tribes through the heavy blood tax had roused discontent among them; the plundering of the holy places, the attacks on the pilgrim caravans under the escort of Turkish soldiers, and finally, in 1810, the desecration of the tomb of Mahomet and the removal of its costly treasures, raised a cry of dismay throughout the Mahommedan world, and made it clear even to the Turkish sultan that unless the Wahhābi power were crushed his claims to the caliphate were at an end.

On October 14, 1802, Amir Abdul Aziz, at eighty-two years old, was killed by a Shi'a extremist while praying in the mosque of Deraiya. Saūd, who had led the Wahhābi armies for many years, became the new amir. In 1804, Medina was captured, and with its fall, all resistance came to an end. The Wahhabi empire had reached its peak, establishing a stable government capable of enforcing law and order in both the desert and the towns. A sense of Arabian nationalism had developed, promising to expand Wahhābi control over all Arab people. However, it also contained the seeds of decline; the accumulation of wealth in the capital had led to a corruption of the simpler customs of earlier times. The strain on the tribes from the heavy blood tax had sparked discontent among them. The looting of holy sites, assaults on pilgrim caravans escorted by Turkish soldiers, and finally, in 1810, the desecration of the Prophet Muhammad's tomb and the theft of its valuable treasures caused widespread outrage in the Muslim world. This made it clear even to the Turkish sultan that unless the Wahhābi power was defeated, his claims to the caliphate would be over.

But Turkey was herself fully occupied by affairs in Europe, and to Mehemet Ali, then pasha of Egypt, was deputed the task of bringing the Wahhābis into subjection. In October 1811 an expedition consisting of 10,000 men under Tusun Pasha, the pasha’s son, a youth of sixteen, landed in Hejaz without opposition. Saūd with his main forces had started northwards to attack Bagdad, but returning at once he met and defeated Tusun with great loss and compelled him to retire. Medina and subsequently Mecca were eventually taken by the Egyptians, but in spite of continual reinforcements they could do little more than hold their own in Hejaz. In 1813 Mehemet Ali was compelled to take the field himself with fresh troops, but was unable to achieve any decisive success, and in 1814 Tusun was again defeated beyond Taif. In May 1814 Saud died, and his son, Ābdallah, attempted to negotiate, but Mehemet Ali refused all overtures, and in January 1815 advanced into Nejd, defeated the Wahhābi army and occupied Ras, then the chief town in Kasim. Terms of peace were made, but on the retirement of the Egyptians Ābdallah refused to carry out the conditions agreed on, which included the return of the jewels plundered by his father, and another campaign had to be fought before his submission was obtained. Ibrahim Pasha replaced Tusun in command, and on reaching Arabia in September 1816 his first aim was to gain over the great Bedouin tribes holding the roads between Hejaz and his objective in Nejd; having thus secured his line of advance he pushed on boldly and defeated Abdallah at Wiya, where he put to death all prisoners taken; thence rapidly advancing, with contingents of the friendly Harb and Muter tribes in support of his regular troops, he laid siege to Ras; this place, however, held out and after a four months’ siege he was compelled to give up the attack. Leaving it on one side he pushed on eastwards, took Aneza after six days’ bombardment and occupied Bureda. Here he waited two months for reinforcements, and with his Bedouin contingent, strengthened by the adhesion of the Āteba and Bani Khālid tribes, advanced on Shakra in Wushm, which fell in January 1818 after a regular siege. After destroying Huremala and massacring its inhabitants, he arrived before Deraiya on the 14th of April 1818. For six months the siege went on with varying fortune, but at last the courage and determination of Ibrahim triumphed, and on the 9th of September, after a heroic resistance, Ābdallah, with a remnant of four hundred men, was compelled to surrender. The Wahhābi leader was soon after sent to Constantinople, where, in spite of Mehemet Ali’s intercession, he and the companions who had followed him in his captivity were condemned to death, and after being paraded through the city with ignominy for three days were finally beheaded.

But Turkey was fully occupied with issues in Europe, so the task of bringing the Wahhābis under control fell to Mehemet Ali, the pasha of Egypt. In October 1811, an expedition of 10,000 men under Tusun Pasha, the pasha’s sixteen-year-old son, landed in Hejaz without any opposition. Saūd, with his main forces, had moved north to attack Baghdad, but he quickly returned, met, and defeated Tusun with heavy losses, forcing him to retreat. Medina and later Mecca were eventually captured by the Egyptians, but despite ongoing reinforcements, they could barely maintain their position in Hejaz. In 1813, Mehemet Ali was compelled to lead fresh troops himself, but he was unable to achieve any decisive victories, and in 1814, Tusun was again defeated beyond Taif. In May 1814, Saud died, and his son, Ābdallah, tried to negotiate, but Mehemet Ali rejected all proposals. In January 1815, he advanced into Nejd, defeated the Wahhābi army, and occupied Ras, which was the main town in Kasim. Peace terms were established, but when the Egyptians withdrew, Ābdallah refused to fulfill the agreed conditions, which included returning the jewels looted by his father. Another campaign was needed to secure his submission. Ibrahim Pasha replaced Tusun in command, and upon arriving in Arabia in September 1816, his first goal was to win over the major Bedouin tribes controlling the routes between Hejaz and his target in Nejd. After securing his line of advance, he boldly marched forward and defeated Abdallah at Wiya, where he executed all captured prisoners. He rapidly advanced, supported by contingents from the friendly Harb and Muter tribes, and laid siege to Ras. However, Ras resisted, and after a four-month siege, he was forced to abandon the attack. Ignoring it, he pushed eastward, captured Aneza after six days of bombardment, and occupied Bureda. He then waited two months for reinforcements, and with his Bedouin contingent, strengthened by the support of the Āteba and Bani Khālid tribes, he advanced on Shakra in Wushm, which fell in January 1818 after a formal siege. After destroying Huremala and massacring its inhabitants, he arrived at Deraiya on April 14, 1818. The siege lasted six months with ups and downs, but ultimately Ibrahim's courage and determination prevailed, and on September 9, after fierce resistance, Ābdallah, along with a remnant of four hundred men, had to surrender. The Wahhābi leader was soon sent to Constantinople, where, despite Mehemet Ali’s pleas, he and his companions who followed him in captivity were sentenced to death. After being paraded through the city in disgrace for three days, they were finally executed.

Deraiya was razed to the ground and the principal towns of Nejd were compelled to admit Egyptian garrisons; but though the Arabs saw themselves powerless to stand before disciplined troops, the Egyptians, on the other hand, had to confess that without useless sacrifices they could not retain their hold on the interior.

Deraiya was completely destroyed, and the main towns of Nejd had to accept Egyptian troops. However, while the Arabs felt helpless against trained soldiers, the Egyptians had to admit that they couldn’t maintain control over the interior without unnecessary losses.

In 1824 Turki, son of the unfortunate Ābdallah, headed a rising which resulted in the re-establishment of the Wahhābi state with Riad as its new capital; and during the next ten years he consolidated his power, paying tribute to and under the nominal suzerainty of Egypt till his murder in 1834. His son, Fesal, succeeded him, but in 1836 on his refusal to pay tribute an Egyptian force was sent to depose him and he was taken prisoner and sent to Cairo, while a rival claimant, Khalid, was established as amir in Riad. Mehemet Ali and his son Ibrahim Pasha were, however, now committed to their conflict with Turkey for Syria and Asia Minor, and had no troops to spare for the thankless task of holding the Arabian deserts; the garrisons were gradually withdrawn, and in 1842 Fēsal, who had escaped from his prison at Cairo reappeared and was everywhere recognized as amir. The few remaining Egyptian troops were ejected from Riad, and with them all semblance of Egyptian or Turkish rule disappeared from central Arabia.

In 1824, Turki, the son of the unfortunate Ābdallah, led a revolt that restored the Wahhābi state with Riad as its new capital. Over the next ten years, he solidified his power, paying tribute and remaining under the nominal control of Egypt until his murder in 1834. His son, Fesal, took over, but in 1836, after he refused to pay tribute, an Egyptian force was sent to dethrone him. He was captured and sent to Cairo, while a rival claimant, Khalid, was made amir in Riad. However, Mehemet Ali and his son Ibrahim Pasha were focused on their conflict with Turkey over Syria and Asia Minor, leaving no troops to spare for the challenging task of controlling the Arabian deserts. The garrisons were gradually withdrawn, and in 1842, Fesal, who had escaped from prison in Cairo, reappeared and was recognized as amir everywhere. The remaining Egyptian troops were expelled from Riad, and with them all traces of Egyptian or Turkish rule vanished from central Arabia.

For a time it looked as if the supremacy of the Wahhābi empire was to be renewed; El Hasa, Harik, Kasim and Asir returned to their allegiance, but over Oman and Yemen Fēsal never re-established his dominion, and the Bahrein sheiks with British support kept their independence.

For a while, it seemed like the Wahhābi empire was going to regain its dominance; El Hasa, Harik, Kasim, and Asir went back to supporting it, but Fēsal never regained control over Oman and Yemen, and the Bahrein sheiks maintained their independence with British backing.

A rival state had, however, arisen, under Ābdallah Ibn Rashid in Jebel Shammar. Driven into exile owing to a feud between his family and the Ibn Āli, the leading family of the Shammar, Ābdallah came to Riad in 1830, and was Ibn Rashid. favourably received by the amir Turki. In 1834 he was with Fēsal on an expedition against El Hasa when news came of the amir’s murder by his cousin Mashārah. By Ābdallah’s advice the expedition was abandoned; Fēsal hastened back with all his forces to Riad, and invested the citadel where Masharah had taken refuge, but failed to gain possession of it, until Ābdallah with two companions found his way into the palace, killed Mashārah, and placed Fēsal on the throne of his father. As a reward for his services Ābdallah was appointed governor of Jebel Shammar, and had already established himself in Hail when the Egyptian expedition of 1836 removed Fēsal temporarily from Nejd. During the exile of the latter he steadily 269 consolidated his power, extending his influence more especially over the desert tribes, till on Fēsal’s return in 1842 he had created a state subject only in name to that of which Riad was the capital.

A rival state had emerged, led by Ābdallah Ibn Rashid in Jebel Shammar. After being exiled due to a feud between his family and the Ibn Āli, the main family of the Shammar, Ābdallah arrived in Riyadh in 1830 and was welcomed by Amir Turki. In 1834, he joined Fēsal on a mission against El Hasa when they received news of the Amir’s murder by his cousin Mashārah. Following Ābdallah’s advice, they called off the expedition; Fēsal rushed back with his forces to Riyadh and surrounded the citadel where Mashārah had taken refuge, but he was unable to capture it until Ābdallah, with two companions, sneaked into the palace, killed Mashārah, and restored Fēsal to the throne of his father. As a reward for his efforts, Ābdallah was made governor of Jebel Shammar and had already settled in Hail when the Egyptian expedition of 1836 briefly ousted Fēsal from Nejd. During Fēsal's exile, Ābdallah steadily strengthened his power, particularly over the desert tribes, until Fēsal returned in 1842 to find that Ābdallah had created a state that was only nominally subject to Riyadh.

On the death of Ābdallah in 1843, his son Talāl succeeded. He set himself to work to establish law and order throughout the state, to arrange its finances, and to encourage the settlement in Hail of artificers and merchants from abroad; the building of the citadel and palace commenced by Mehemet Ali, and continued by Ābdallah Ibn Rashid, was completed by Talāl. The town walls were strengthened, new wells dug, gardens planted, mosques and schools built. His uncle Obed, to whom equally with Ābdallah is due the foundation of the Ibn Rashid dynasty, laboured to extend the Shammar boundaries. Khaibar, Tema and Jauf became tributary to Hail.

On the death of Ābdallah in 1843, his son Talāl took over. He focused on establishing law and order throughout the state, organizing its finances, and encouraging skilled workers and merchants from abroad to settle in Hail. The citadel and palace that were started by Mehemet Ali and continued by Ābdallah Ibn Rashid were completed by Talāl. The town walls were reinforced, new wells were dug, gardens were planted, and mosques and schools were built. His uncle Obed, who, like Ābdallah, played a key role in founding the Ibn Rashid dynasty, worked to expand the Shammar boundaries. Khaibar, Tema, and Jauf became tributary to Hail.

Though tolerant in religion Talāl was careful to avoid the suspicion of lukewarmness towards the Wahhābi formulas. Luxury in clothing and the use of tobacco were prohibited; attendance at the mosque was enforced: any doubt as to his orthodoxy was silenced by the amount and regularity of the tribute sent by him to Riad. Equally guarded was his attitude to the Turkish authorities; it is not improbable that Talal had also entered into relations with the viceroy of Egypt to ensure his position in case of a collision with the Porte. During his twenty years’ reign Jebel Shammar became a model state, where justice and security ruled in a manner before unheard of. Fēsal may well have watched with jealous anxiety the growing strength of his neighbour’s state as compared with his own, where all progress was arrested by the deadening tyranny of religious fanaticism.

Though open-minded about religion, Talāl was careful to avoid any appearance of being indifferent to Wahhābi beliefs. He prohibited luxury clothing and the use of tobacco, and made sure everyone attended the mosque; any doubts about his commitment to orthodoxy were silenced by the amount and regularity of his tribute to Riad. He was equally cautious in his dealings with the Turkish authorities; it's likely that Talāl had also established ties with the viceroy of Egypt to secure his position in case of a conflict with the Porte. During his twenty-year reign, Jebel Shammar became a model state where justice and security prevailed in ways previously unseen. Fēsal may have watched with envious concern as his neighbor’s state grew stronger compared to his own, where all progress was stifled by the oppressive tyranny of religious fanaticism.

On the 11th of March 1868 Talāl, smitten with an incurable malady, fell by his own hand and was succeeded by his brother Matāb; after a brief reign he was murdered by his nephews, the elder of whom, Bandar, became amir. The amir Mahommed. Mahommed, the third son of the amir Ābdallah, was at the time absent; with a view of getting his uncle into his power, Bandar invited him to return to Hail, and on his arrival went out to meet him accompanied by Hamud, son of Obed, and a small following. Warned by a hurried sign by Hamud that his life was in danger, Mahommed at once attacked Bandar, stabbed him and took possession of the citadel; a general massacre of all members of the house of Ibn Rashid followed, and next day Mahommed appeared with his cousin Hamud in the market-place of Hail, and announced his assumption of the amirship. A strong and capable ruler, he soon established his authority over all northern and western Nejd, and in 1872 the opportunity arrived for his intervention in the east. In that year Abdallah, who had succeeded Fēsal in Riad in 1867, was deposed, but with the assistance of Mahommed was reinstated; two years later, however, he was again deposed and forced to seek refuge at Hail, from which place he appealed for assistance to the Turkish authorities at Bagdad. Midhat Pasha, then governor-general, seized the occasion of asserting Turkish dominion on the Persian Gulf coast, and in 1875, in spite of British protests, occupied El Hasa and established a new province under the title of Nejd, with its headquarters at Hofuf, of which Ābdallah was appointed governor. This was an event of some importance, as it constituted the first Turkish claim to the sovereignty over Nejd abandoned by Egypt thirty-three years earlier. The Turks did not support their client by advancing into Nejd itself, and he and his rivals were left to fight out their battles among themselves. Turkey was indeed too much occupied by the war with Russia to pay much attention to Arab affairs, though a few years later she attempted to occupy Bahrein by a coup de main, which was only frustrated by the action of a British gunboat.

On March 11, 1868, Talāl, suffering from an incurable illness, took his own life and was succeeded by his brother Matāb; after a short reign, Matāb was murdered by his nephews, the older of whom, Bandar, became amir. The Amir Mohammed. Mahommed, the third son of amir Ābdallah, was away at the time. To get his uncle under control, Bandar invited him to return to Hail, and upon his arrival, he went out to greet him accompanied by Hamud, son of Obed, and a small group. Warned by a quick gesture from Hamud that his life was in danger, Mahommed swiftly attacked Bandar, stabbed him, and seized the citadel; a general massacre of all members of the Ibn Rashid family followed. The next day, Mahommed appeared with his cousin Hamud in the Hail marketplace and announced that he was taking over as amir. A strong and capable leader, he quickly established control over all of northern and western Nejd, and in 1872, an opportunity arose for him to intervene in the east. That year, Abdallah, who had taken over from Fēsal in Riyadh in 1867, was deposed but, with Mahommed's help, was reinstated; however, two years later, he was deposed again and forced to seek refuge in Hail, from which he appealed for help from the Turkish authorities in Baghdad. Midhat Pasha, then the governor-general, took the opportunity to assert Turkish control over the Persian Gulf coast, and in 1875, despite British protests, occupied El Hasa and created a new province called Nejd, with its capital at Hofuf, where Abdallah was appointed governor. This was a significant event, as it marked the first Turkish claim to sovereignty over Nejd, which had been abandoned by Egypt thirty-three years earlier. The Turks did not support their ally by advancing into Nejd itself, leaving him and his rivals to settle their conflicts among themselves. Turkey was indeed too preoccupied with the war against Russia to focus much on Arab affairs, although a few years later, they tried to occupy Bahrain with a quick raid, which was only thwarted by the actions of a British gunboat.

Owing to the dissensions among the ruling family of Riad, the towns of eastern Nejd gradually reverted to their former condition of independence, but menaced in turn by the growing power of Hail, they formed a coalition under the leadership of Zāmil, sheik of Aneza, and in the spring of 1891, Aneza, Bureda, Shakra, Ras and Riad assembled their contingents to contest with Ibn Rashid the supremacy in Nejd. The latter had besides 20,000 of his own south Shammar tribesmen, the whole strength of the Harb Bedouins, some 10,000 men, and an additional support of 1000 mounted men from his kinsmen, the northern Shammar from the Euphrates, while the Muter and Āteba tribes took part with the allies. The total strength of each side amounted to about 30,000 men. Zāmil’s forces held a strong position between Aneza and Bureda, and for over a month desultory fighting went on; finally an attack was made against the defenders’ centre, covered by 20,000 camel riders; the men of Aneza broke and the whole allied forces fled in disorder; Zamil and his eldest son were killed, as were also two of the Ibn Saud family, while the remainder were taken prisoners. Aneza and Bureda surrendered the same day, and shortly after Ras, Shakra and Riad tendered their submission.

Due to the conflicts within the ruling family of Riyadh, the towns of eastern Nejd gradually returned to their previous state of independence. However, they were threatened by the rising power of Hail, so they formed a coalition led by Zamil, the chief of Aneza. In the spring of 1891, Aneza, Bureda, Shakra, Ras, and Riyadh gathered their forces to challenge Ibn Rashid for control of Nejd. Ibn Rashid also had 20,000 of his own south Shammar tribesmen, the entire strength of the Harb Bedouins, which was around 10,000 men, and an extra 1,000 mounted men from his relatives, the northern Shammar from the Euphrates. The Muter and Ateba tribes joined the allies. The total strength of each side was about 30,000 men. Zamil’s forces took a strong position between Aneza and Bureda, and for over a month, there was sporadic fighting. Finally, an assault was launched against the defenders' center, backed by 20,000 camel riders. The men of Aneza broke, and the entire allied forces fled in chaos. Zamil and his eldest son were killed, along with two members of the Ibn Saud family, while the rest were taken captive. Aneza and Bureda surrendered the same day, and shortly after, Ras, Shakra, and Riyadh also submitted.

This victory placed the whole of northern and central Arabia under the supremacy of Mahommed Ibn Rashid, which he held undisputed during the rest of his life.

This victory put all of northern and central Arabia under the control of Mahommed Ibn Rashid, which he maintained without challenge for the rest of his life.

On his death in 1897 his nephew Abdul-Aziz, son of the murdered amir Matab, succeeded; during his reign a new element has been introduced into Nejd politics by the rising importance of Kuwet (Koweit) and the attempts Recent history. of Turkey to obtain possession of its important harbour. In 1901 a quarrel arose between Sheik Mubārak of Kuwet and the amir of Hail whose cause was supported by Turkey. A force was equipped at Basra under Ahmad Feizi Pasha with the intention of occupying Kuwet; Mubārak thereupon appealed to Great Britain and action was taken which prevented the Turkish designs from being carried out. Kuwet was not formally placed under British protection, but it was officially announced by the government on the 5th of May 1903 “that the establishment of a naval base or fortified port in the Persian Gulf by any other power would be regarded as a very grave menace to British interests which would certainly be resisted with all the means at its disposal.”

On his death in 1897, his nephew Abdul-Aziz, the son of the murdered amir Matab, took over. During his reign, a new factor entered Nejd politics with the growing significance of Kuwait and Turkey's attempts to gain control of its crucial harbor. In 1901, a conflict broke out between Sheikh Mubārak of Kuwait and the amir of Hail, who was backed by Turkey. A force was mobilized at Basra under Ahmad Feizi Pasha with the goal of occupying Kuwait; Mubārak then reached out to Great Britain, which took action to thwart Turkey's plans. Kuwait was not officially placed under British protection, but the government announced on May 5, 1903, that “the establishment of a naval base or fortified port in the Persian Gulf by any other power would be regarded as a very grave menace to British interests which would certainly be resisted with all the means at its disposal.”

In the meantime Sheik Mubārak had found useful allies in the Muntafik Arabs from the lower Euphrates, and the Wahhābis of Riad; the latter under the amir Ibn Saūd marched against Ibn Rashid, who at the instigation of the Porte had again threatened Kuwet (Koweit), compelled him to retire to his own territory and took possession of the towns of Bureda and Aneza. Sheik Mubārak and his allies continued their advance, defeated Ibn Rashid in two engagements on the 22nd of July and the 26th of September 1904, and drove him back on his capital, Hail. The Porte now made another effort to assist its protégé; two columns were despatched from Medina and Basra respectively, to relieve Hail, and drive out the Wahhabis. Ahmad Feizi Pasha, in command of the Basra column, 4200 strong, crossed the desert and reached the wells of Lina, 200 m. from Hail, on the 5th of March 1905; here, however, he received orders to halt and negotiate before proceeding farther. The Turkish government realized by this time the strength of the hostile combination, and in view of the serious state of affairs in Yemen, hesitated to undertake another campaign in the deserts of Nejd. Arrangements were accordingly made with the Wahhābis, and on the 10th of April Ahmad Feizi Pasha left Lina, ostensibly with the object of protecting the pilgrim road, and joined the Medina column by the end of the month. Bureda and Aneza were occupied without opposition, the rebellious sheiks amnestied by the sultan and loaded with gifts, and formal peace was made between the rival factions.

In the meantime, Sheik Mubārak had found valuable allies in the Muntafik Arabs from the lower Euphrates and the Wahhābis of Riad. The latter, led by Amir Ibn Saūd, marched against Ibn Rashid, who, under the direction of the Porte, had once again threatened Kuwait. This compelled Ibn Rashid to retreat to his own territory, and he lost control of the towns of Bureda and Aneza. Sheik Mubārak and his allies continued their advance, defeating Ibn Rashid in two battles on July 22 and September 26, 1904, pushing him back to his capital, Hail. The Porte then made another attempt to support its ally; two columns were sent from Medina and Basra to relieve Hail and expel the Wahhabis. Ahmad Feizi Pasha, in charge of the Basra column of 4,200 troops, crossed the desert and reached the wells of Lina, 200 miles from Hail, on March 5, 1905. However, he received orders to stop and negotiate before moving further. By this time, the Turkish government recognized the strength of the opposing coalition and, considering the serious situation in Yemen, hesitated to launch another campaign in the deserts of Nejd. As a result, arrangements were made with the Wahhābis, and on April 10, Ahmad Feizi Pasha left Lina, supposedly to protect the pilgrim route, and joined the Medina column by the end of the month. Bureda and Aneza were taken without opposition, the rebellious sheiks were granted amnesty by the sultan and showered with gifts, and formal peace was established between the rival factions.

European influence was not felt in Arabia until the arrival of the Portuguese in the eastern seas, following on the discovery of the Cape route. In 1506 Hormuz was taken by Albuquerque, and Muscat and the coast of Oman (q.v.) History of European influence. were occupied by the Portuguese till 1650. In 1516 their fleets appeared in the Red Sea and an unsuccessful attempt was made against Jidda; but the effective occupation of Yemen by the Turks in the next few years frustrated any designs the Portuguese may have had in S.W. Arabia. Even in Oman their hold on the country was limited to Muscat and the adjacent ports, while the interior was ruled by the old Yāriba 270 (Ya-‛aruba) dynasty from their capital at Rustak. The Persian occupation, which followed that of the Portuguese, came to an end in the middle of the 18th century, when Ahmad Ibn Said expelled the invaders and in 1759 established the Ghafari dynasty which still reigns in Oman. He was succeeded by his son, who in 1798 made a treaty with the East India Company with the object of excluding the French from Oman, and the connexion British intervention in Oman. with Great Britain was further strengthened during the long reign of his grandson Sultan Sāid, 1804-1856. During the earlier years of his reign he was constantly at war with the Wahhābi empire, to which Oman became for a time tributary. The piracies committed by the Jawasimi Arabs in the gulf compelled the intervention of England, and in 1810 their strongholds were destroyed by a British-Indian expedition. The overthrow of the Wahhabis in 1817 restored Sultan Said to independence; he equipped and armed on Western models a fleet built in Indian ports, and took possession of Sokotra and Zanzibar, as well as the Persian coast north of the straits of Hormuz as far east as Gwadur, while by his liberal policy at home Sohar, Barka and Muscat became prosperous commercial ports.

European influence didn't make its mark in Arabia until the Portuguese arrived in the eastern seas after discovering the Cape route. In 1506, Hormuz was captured by Albuquerque, and Muscat and the coast of Oman (q.v.) History of European impact. were under Portuguese control until 1650. In 1516, their fleets showed up in the Red Sea and tried to attack Jidda unsuccessfully; however, the Turks effectively occupied Yemen in the following years, blocking any Portuguese ambitions in S.W. Arabia. Even in Oman, the Portuguese influence was limited to Muscat and nearby ports, while the interior was governed by the old Yāriba 270 (Ya-‛aruba) dynasty from their capital at Rustak. The Persian occupation, which followed the Portuguese, ended in the mid-18th century when Ahmad Ibn Said drove out the invaders and established the Ghafari dynasty in 1759, which still rules Oman today. He was succeeded by his son, who in 1798 signed a treaty with the East India Company to keep the French out of Oman, and the connection UK involvement in Oman. with Great Britain grew stronger during the long reign of his grandson Sultan Sāid, from 1804 to 1856. In the early years of his reign, he was constantly at war with the Wahhābi empire, which Oman was tributary to for a time. The piracy by the Jawasimi Arabs in the gulf led to England stepping in, and in 1810, British-Indian forces destroyed their strongholds. The defeat of the Wahhabis in 1817 restored Sultan Said's independence; he built and armed a fleet modeled on Western designs in Indian ports and took control of Sokotra and Zanzibar, as well as the Persian coast north of the straits of Hormuz as far east as Gwadur. His liberal policies at home made Sohar, Barka, and Muscat prosperous commercial ports.

On his death in 1856 the kingdom was divided, Majīd, a younger son, taking Zanzibar, while the two elder sons contested the succession to Oman. The eldest, Thuwēni, with British support, finally obtained the throne, and in 1862 an engagement was entered into by the French and English governments respecting the independence of the sultans of Oman. He was assassinated in 1866, and his successor, Seyyid Turki, reigned till 1888. On his death several claimants disputed the succession; ultimately his son Fēsal was recognized by the British government, and was granted a subsidy from British-Indian revenues, in consideration of which he engaged not to cede any of his territory without the consent of the British government; similar engagements have been entered into by the tribes who occupy the south coast from the borders of Oman westward to the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb.

On his death in 1856, the kingdom was split up, with Majīd, a younger son, taking Zanzibar, while the two older sons fought for the succession to Oman. The eldest, Thuwēni, with British support, ultimately gained the throne, and in 1862, the French and English governments made an agreement regarding the independence of the sultans of Oman. He was assassinated in 1866, and his successor, Seyyid Turki, ruled until 1888. After his death, several claimants argued over the succession; ultimately, his son Fēsal was recognized by the British government and was given a subsidy from British-Indian revenues, in exchange for agreeing not to cede any of his territory without British government consent. Similar agreements have been made by the tribes along the southern coast from the borders of Oman westward to the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb.

The opening of the overland route to India again brought the west coast of Arabia into importance. Aden was occupied by the British in 1839. The Hejaz coast and some of the Yemen ports were still held by Mehemet Ali, British sphere of influence. as viceroy of Egypt, but on his final withdrawal from Arabia in 1845, Hejaz came under direct Turkish rule, and the conquest of Yemen in 1872 placed the whole Red Sea littoral (with the exception of the Midian coast, ceded by Egypt on the accession of Abbas Hilmi Pasha) under Ottoman administration. The island of Perim at the southern entrance of the Red Sea has been a British possession since 1857, while the promontory of Shekh Said on the Arabian side of the strait is in Turkish occupation. In order to define the limits between Turkish territory and that of the independent Arab tribes in political relations with Great Britain, a joint commission of British and Turkish officers in 1902-1905 laid down a boundary line from Shekh Said to a point on the river Bana, 12 m. north-east of the small town of Kataba, from which it is continued in a north-easterly direction up to the great desert. This delimitation places the whole of southern Arabia, east of this line, within the British sphere of influence, which thus includes the district surrounding Aden (q.v.), the Hadramut and Oman with its dependencies.

The opening of the overland route to India once again highlighted the importance of the west coast of Arabia. The British took control of Aden in 1839. The Hejaz coast and some Yemen ports were still under Mehemet Ali, the viceroy of Egypt, but when he finally withdrew from Arabia in 1845, the Hejaz came under direct Turkish rule, and the conquest of Yemen in 1872 put the entire Red Sea coast (except for the Midian coast, ceded by Egypt with the rise of Abbas Hilmi Pasha) under Ottoman administration. The island of Perim at the southern entrance of the Red Sea has been a British possession since 1857, while the promontory of Shekh Said on the Arabian side of the strait is occupied by the Turks. To define the boundaries between Turkish territory and the independent Arab tribes that had political ties with Great Britain, a joint commission of British and Turkish officers established a boundary line from Shekh Said to a point on the Bana River, 12 miles northeast of the small town of Kataba, and continued it in a northeast direction up to the great desert. This delimitation places all of southern Arabia, east of this line, within the British sphere of influence, which includes the area surrounding Aden (q.v.), Hadramut, and Oman with its dependencies.

The provinces of Hejaz and Yemen are each administered by a Turkish governor-general, with headquarters at Taif and Sana respectively; the country is nominally divided up into divisions and districts under minor officials, but Turkish rule. Turkish rule has never been acquiesced in by the inhabitants, and beyond the larger towns, all of which are held by strong garrisons, Turkish authority hardly exists. The powerful Bedouin tribes of Hejaz have always asserted their independence, and are only kept quiet by the large money payments made them by the sultan on the occasion of the annual pilgrimage to the holy cities. A large part of Asir and northern Yemen has never been visited by Turkish troops, and such revenues as are collected, mainly from vexatious customs and transit duties, are quite insufficient to meet the salaries of the officials, while the troops, ill-fed and their pay indefinitely in arrears, live on the country as best they can.

The provinces of Hejaz and Yemen are each managed by a Turkish governor-general, with their main offices in Taif and Sana, respectively. The country is officially divided into divisions and districts run by minor officials, but Ottoman rule. The local population has never accepted Turkish authority, and outside of the larger towns, which are under strong military presence, Turkish control is almost nonexistent. The powerful Bedouin tribes of Hejaz have always claimed their independence and are only kept in check by the substantial payments they receive from the sultan during the annual pilgrimage to the holy cities. Much of Asir and northern Yemen has never seen Turkish troops, and the revenues collected, mostly from annoying customs and transit fees, are far too low to cover the salaries of the officials, while the poorly fed troops, who haven't been paid in ages, try to survive off the land as best they can.

A serious revolt broke out in Yemen in 1892. A Turkish detachment collecting taxes in the Bani Merwan lands north of Hodeda was destroyed by a body of Arabs. This reverse set all Yemen aflame; under the leadership Yemen revolt. of the imam, who had, since the Turkish occupation, lived in retirement at Sada, 120 m. north of the capital, the powerful tribes between Asir and Sana advanced southwards, occupied the principal towns and besieged the few Turkish fortified posts that still held out. In many cases the garrisons, Arab troops from Syria, went over to the insurgents. Meanwhile, reinforcements under General Ahmad Feizi Pasha reached Hodeda, Manakha was retaken, Sana relieved, and by the end of January 1893 the country with the exception of the northern mountainous districts was reconquered.

A serious revolt broke out in Yemen in 1892. A Turkish unit collecting taxes in the Bani Merwan lands north of Hodeda was destroyed by a group of Arabs. This setback set all of Yemen ablaze; under the leadership of the imam, who had lived in retirement at Sada, 120 miles north of the capital since the Turkish occupation, the powerful tribes between Asir and Sana moved south, occupied the main towns, and laid siege to the few Turkish forts that still resisted. In many cases, the garrisons, made up of Arab troops from Syria, joined the insurgents. Meanwhile, reinforcements led by General Ahmad Feizi Pasha reached Hodeda, Manakha was retaken, Sana was relieved, and by the end of January 1893, the country, except for the northern mountainous areas, was reconquered.

A state of intermittent rebellion, however, continued, and in 1904 a general revolt took place with which the normal garrison of Yemen, the 7th army corps, was quite unable to cope. The military posts were everywhere besieged, and Sana, the capital, was cut off from all communication with the coast. During February 1905 reinforcements were sent up which raised the garrison of Sana to a strength of eight battalions, and in March a further reinforcement of about the same strength arrived, and fought its way into the capital with the loss of almost all its guns and train. The position was then desperate, wholesale desertion and starvation had decimated the garrison, and three weeks later Ali Riza Pasha, the Turkish commander, was compelled to surrender. The fall of Sana made a deep impression at Constantinople, every effort was made to hasten out reinforcements, the veteran Ahmad Feizi Pasha was nominated to the supreme command, and Anatolian troops in place of the unreliable Syrian element were detailed. The scale of the operations may be judged from the fact that the total number of troops mobilized up to the beginning of July 1905 amounted to 126 battalions, 8 squadrons and 15 batteries; the rebel leader Mahommed Yahiya had at this time a following of 50,000.

A state of ongoing rebellion continued, and in 1904, a general uprising occurred that the regular garrison of Yemen, the 7th army corps, could not handle. Military posts were besieged everywhere, and Sana, the capital, was completely cut off from communication with the coast. In February 1905, reinforcements were sent in, boosting the garrison in Sana to eight battalions. In March, additional reinforcements of about the same size arrived and managed to fight their way into the capital, losing almost all their guns and equipment along the way. The situation became desperate; mass desertion and starvation had severely weakened the garrison, and three weeks later, Ali Riza Pasha, the Turkish commander, was forced to surrender. The fall of Sana had a significant impact in Constantinople, prompting efforts to speed up reinforcements. Veteran Ahmad Feizi Pasha was appointed to the supreme command, and Anatolian troops were sent in place of the unreliable Syrian units. The scale of the operations can be understood from the fact that the total number of troops mobilized by the beginning of July 1905 reached 126 battalions, 8 squadrons, and 15 batteries; meanwhile, the rebel leader Mahommed Yahiya had about 50,000 followers at that time.

By the end of June, Ahmad Feizi Pasha was in a position to advance on Manakha, where he organized an efficient transport, rallied the scattered remnants of Ali Riza’s army, and with the newly arrived troops had by the middle of July a force of some 40 battalions available for the advance on Sana. He left Manakha on the 17th of July, and after almost daily fighting reached Sana on the 30th of August; on the 31st he entered the city without serious opposition, the insurgents having retreated northward.

By the end of June, Ahmad Feizi Pasha was ready to move on Manakha, where he arranged efficient transport, gathered the scattered remnants of Ali Riza’s army, and with the newly arrived troops, had about 40 battalions ready for the advance on Sana by mid-July. He left Manakha on July 17, and after almost daily battles, he reached Sana on August 30; on the 31st, he entered the city without significant resistance, as the insurgents had retreated northward.

Authorities.—D.G. Hogarth, Penetration of Arabia (London, 1904); C. Niebuhr, Travels and Description of Arabia (Amsterdam, 1774); A. Zehme, Arabien und die Araber seit Hundert Jahren (Halle, 1875); J.L. Burckhardt, Travels in Arabia (London, 1829); R.F. Burton, Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah (London, 1855), Midian revisited (1879); W.G. Palgrave, Central and Eastern Arabia (London, 1865); C. Doughty, Arabia Deserta (Cambridge, 1888), and an abridgment, containing mainly the personal narrative, under the title of Wanderings in Arabia (London, 1908); L. van den Berg, Le Hadramut et les colonies arabes, &c. (Batavia, 1885); C. Huber, Journal d’un voyage en Arabie (Paris, 1891); J. Euting, Reise in inner Arabien (Leiden, 1896); E. Nolde, Reise nach inner Arabien (Brunswick, 1895); L. Hirsch, Reise in Sud Arabien (Leiden, 1897); J.T. Bent, Southern Arabia (1895); R. Manzoni, Il Yemen (Rome, 1884); A. Deflers, Voyage en Yémen (Paris, 1889); J. Halévy, Journal Asiatique (1872); Lady Anne Blunt, Pilgrimage to Nejd (London, 1881); E. Glaser, Petermann’s Mitt. (1886, 1888 and 1889); W.B. Harris, Journey through Yemen (Edinburgh, 1893); J.R. Wellsted, Travels in Arabia (London, 1838); Capt. F.M. Hunter, Aden (London, 1877). Consult also Proc. R.G.S. and Geogr. Journal. For geology see H.J. Carter, “Memoir on the Geology of the South-East Coast of Arabia,” Journ. Bombay Branch Roy. Asiat. Soc. vol. iv. pp. 21-96 (1852); Doughty’s Arabia Deserta; W.F. Hume, The Rift Valleys and Geology of Eastern Sinai (London, 1901). For ancient geography of Arabia:—A. Sprenger, Alte Geographie Arabiens (Berne, 1875); E.H. Bunbury, History of Ancient Geography (London, 1883); D.H. Müller, Hamdani’s Geographie (Leiden, 1884); E. Glaser, Geschichte und Geographie Arabiens (Berlin, 1890).

Authorities.—D.G. Hogarth, The Penetration of Arabia (London, 1904); C. Niebuhr, Travels and Description of Arabia (Amsterdam, 1774); A. Zehme, Arabia and the Arabs over the Past Hundred Years (Halle, 1875); J.L. Burckhardt, Travels in Arabia (London, 1829); R.F. Burton, Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah (London, 1855), Midian Revisited (1879); W.G. Palgrave, Central and Eastern Arabia (London, 1865); C. Doughty, Arabia Deserta (Cambridge, 1888), and a condensed version focusing mainly on the personal narrative titled Wanderings in Arabia (London, 1908); L. van den Berg, The Hadramaut and the Arab Colonies, etc. (Batavia, 1885); C. Huber, Journal of a Trip to Arabia (Paris, 1891); J. Euting, Journey in Inner Arabia (Leiden, 1896); E. Nolde, Travel to Inner Arabia (Brunswick, 1895); L. Hirsch, Journey in South Arabia (Leiden, 1897); J.T. Bent, Southern Arabia (1895); R. Manzoni, The Yemen (Rome, 1884); A. Deflers, Journey to Yemen (Paris, 1889); J. Halévy, Journal Asiatique (1872); Lady Anne Blunt, Pilgrimage to Nejd (London, 1881); E. Glaser, Petermann’s Mitt. (1886, 1888, and 1889); W.B. Harris, Journey through Yemen (Edinburgh, 1893); J.R. Wellsted, Travels in Arabia (London, 1838); Capt. F.M. Hunter, Aden (London, 1877). Also check Proc. R.G.S. and Geogr. Journal. For geology, see H.J. Carter, “Memoir on the Geology of the South-East Coast of Arabia,” Journ. Bombay Branch Roy. Asiat. Soc. vol. iv. pp. 21-96 (1852); Doughty’s Arabia Deserta; W.F. Hume, The Rift Valleys and Geology of Eastern Sinai (London, 1901). For ancient geography of Arabia: A. Sprenger, Ancient Geography of Arabia (Berne, 1875); E.H. Bunbury, A History of Ancient Geography (London, 1883); D.H. Müller, Hamdani’s Geography (Leiden, 1884); E. Glaser, History and Geography of Arabia (Berlin, 1890).

(R. A. W.)

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Literature

Literature

The literature of Arabia has its origin in the songs, improvisations, recitations and stories of the pre-Mahommedan Arabs. Of written literature in those days there was, so far as we know, none. But where books failed memory was strong and the power of retaining things heard was not confined to a professional class. At every festive meeting many could contribute a poem or a story, many could even improvise the one or the other. When members of different tribes met in peace (as at the fair of ‛Ukāẓ) the most skilful reciters strove to maintain the honour of their own people, and a ready improviser was held in high esteem. The smartest epigrams, the fairest similes, the keenest satires, spoken or sung on such occasions, were treasured in the memory of the hearers and carried by them to their homes. But the experience of all peoples in that memory requires to be helped by form. Sentences became balanced and were made clear by some sort of definite ending. The simplest form of this in Arabian literature is the saj‛ or rhymed prose, in which the sentences are usually (though not always) short and end in a rhyme or assonance. Mahomet used this form in many parts of the Koran (e.g. Sura, 81). The next step was the introduction of metre into the body of the sentence and the restriction of the passages to a definite length. This in its simplest form gave rise to the rajaz verses, where each half-line ends in the same rhyme and consists of three feet of the measure . Other metres were introduced later until sixteen altogether were recognized. In all forms the rhyme is the same throughout the poem, and is confined to the second half of the line except in the first line where the two halves rhyme. While, however, these measures were in early use, they were not systematically analysed or their rules enunciated until the time of Khalīl ibn Ahmad in the 8th century. Two other features of Arabian poetry are probably connected with the necessity for aiding the memory. The first of these is the requirement that each line should have a complete sense in itself; this produces a certain jerkiness, and often led among the Arabs to displacement in the order of the lines in a long poem. The other feature, peculiar to the long poem (qasīda, elegy), is that, whatever its real object, whatever its metre, it has a regular scheme in the arrangement of its material. It begins with a description of the old camping-ground, before which the poet calls on his companion to stop, while he bewails the traces of those who have left for other places. Then he tells of his love and how he had suffered from it, how he had journeyed through the desert (this part often contains some of the most famous descriptions and praises of animals) until his beast became thin and worn-out. Then at last comes the real subject of the poem, usually the panegyric of some man of influence or wealth to whom the poet has come in hope of reward and before whom he recites the poem.

The literature of Arabia began with the songs, improvisations, recitations, and stories of the pre-Islamic Arabs. Back then, there was no written literature that we know of. But where books were lacking, people's memories were strong, and the ability to retain what was heard wasn’t limited to just professionals. At every celebration, many people could share a poem or a story, and many could even make one up on the spot. When different tribes met in peace (like at the fair of ‛Ukāẓ), the best reciters competed to uphold the honor of their people, and a good improviser was highly respected. The best epigrams, vivid similes, and sharp satires, whether spoken or sung during these events, were remembered and taken home by the listeners. However, all societies need structure to aid memory. Sentences became balanced and were made clearer by having definite endings. The simplest form of this in Arabian literature is the saj‛ or rhymed prose, where the sentences are usually (but not always) short and end with a rhyme or similar sound. Muhammad used this form in many parts of the Koran (e.g. Sura, 81). The next development was adding meter within the sentences and limiting the passages to a specific length. This simplest form led to rajaz verses, where each half-line ends with the same rhyme and consists of three measures of the pattern . Other meters were later introduced until a total of sixteen were recognized. In all forms, the rhyme remains consistent throughout the poem and is limited to the second half of the line, except for the first line where both halves rhyme. While these measures were used early on, they were not systematically analyzed or their rules established until Khalīl ibn Ahmad in the 8th century. Two other features of Arabian poetry likely relate to the need for memory aids. The first requires that each line convey a complete thought; this can create a certain awkwardness and often led to rearranging the order of lines in longer poems. The other feature, specific to long poems (qasīda, elegy), is that, regardless of its true subject or meter, it follows a specific pattern in how its material is organized. It begins with a description of the old camping ground, prompting the poet to ask their companion to pause as they mourn the signs of those who have left. Then, the poet shares their experience of love and suffering, recounting their journey through the desert (this section often includes some of the most famous descriptions and praises of animals) until their mount becomes thin and exhausted. Finally, the poem’s true subject is revealed, usually a praise of a powerful or wealthy individual to whom the poet has come seeking rewards and before whom they recite the poem.

Poetry.—The influence of the poet in pre-Mahommedan days was very great. As his name, ash-Shā‛ir, “the knowing man,” indicates, he was supposed to have more than natural knowledge and power. Panegyric and satire (hijā‛) were his chief instruments. The praise of the tribe in well-chosen verses ennobled it throughout the land, a biting satire was enough to destroy its reputation (cf. I. Goldziher’s Abhandlungen zur arabischen Philologie, i. pp. 1-105). Before Mahomet the ethics of the Arabs were summed up in muruwwa (custom). Hospitality, generosity, personal bravery were the subjects of praise; meanness and cowardice those of satire. The existence of poetry among the northern Arabs was known to the Greeks even in the 4th century (cf. St Nilos in Migne’s Patrologia Graeca, vol. 79, col. 648, and Sozomen’s Ecclesiastical History, bk. 6, ch. 38). Women as well as men composed and recited poems before the days of the Prophet (cf. L. Cheikho’s Poetesses of the Jāhiliyya, in Arabic, Beirut, 1897).

Poetry.—The poet's influence in pre-Islamic times was significant. As his title, ash-Shā‛ir, meaning “the knowledgeable one,” suggests, he was believed to possess extraordinary knowledge and power. His main tools were panegyric and satire (hijā‛). Praising the tribe in carefully crafted verses elevated its status across the land, while a sharp satire could ruin its reputation (cf. I. Goldziher’s Abhandlungen zur arabischen Philologie, i. pp. 1-105). Before Muhammad, Arab ethics were encapsulated in muruwwa (tradition). Hospitality, generosity, and personal bravery were celebrated; meanness and cowardice were subjects of mockery. The existence of poetry among the northern Arabs was recognized by the Greeks as early as the 4th century (cf. St Nilos in Migne’s Patrologia Graeca, vol. 79, col. 648, and Sozomen’s Ecclesiastical History, bk. 6, ch. 38). Both women and men wrote and recited poems before the time of the Prophet (cf. L. Cheikho’s Poetesses of the Jāhiliyya, in Arabic, Beirut, 1897).

The transmission of early Arabic poetry has been very imperfect. Many of the reciters were slain in battle, and it was not till the 8th to the 10th centuries and even later that the earliest collections of these poems were made. Many have to be recovered from grammars, dictionaries, &c., where single lines or groups of lines are quoted to illustrate the proper use of words, phrases or idioms. Moreover, many a reciter was not content to declaim the genuine verses of ancient poets, but interpolated some of his own composition, and the change of religion introduced by Islam led to the mutilation of many verses to suit the doctrines of the new creed.3

The transmission of early Arabic poetry has been quite flawed. Many of the reciters were killed in battle, and it wasn't until the 8th to 10th centuries, and even later, that the earliest collections of these poems were created. Many poems have to be found in grammars, dictionaries, etc., where single lines or groups of lines are quoted to demonstrate the proper use of words, phrases, or idioms. Additionally, many reciters weren’t satisfied with just reciting the original verses of ancient poets; they added some of their own compositions, and the shift to Islam led to the alteration of many verses to align with the beliefs of the new religion.3

The language of the poems, as of all the best Arabian literature, was that of the desert Arabs of central Arabia; and to use it aright was the ambition of poets and scholars even in the Abbasid period. For the man of the towns its vocabulary was too copious to be easily understood, and in the age of linguistic studies many commentaries were written to explain words and idioms.

The language of the poems, like all the best Arabian literature, came from the desert Arabs of central Arabia; using it correctly was the goal of poets and scholars even during the Abbasid period. For city dwellers, its vocabulary was too vast to grasp easily, and in the era of linguistic studies, many commentaries were created to clarify words and expressions.

Of the pre-Mahommedan poets the most famous were the six whose poems were collected by Asma‛ī about the beginning of the 9th century (ed. W. Ahlwardt, The Diwans of the Six Ancient Arabic Poets, London, 1870). Single poems of four of these—Amru-ul-Qais, Ṭarafa, Zuhair and ‛Antara—appear in the Mo’allakat (q.v.). The other two were Nābigha (q.v.) and ‛Alqama (q.v.). But besides these there were many others whose names were famous; such as Ta‛abbata Sharran, a popular hero who recites his own adventures with great gusto; his companion Shanfarā, whose fame rests on a fine poem which has been translated into French by de Sacy (in his Chrestomathie Arabe) and into English by G. Hughes (London, 1896); Aus ibn Hajar of the Bani Tamin, famous for his descriptions of weapons and hunting scenes (ed. R. Geyer, Vienna, 1892); Ḥātim Tā’i, renowned for his open-handed generosity as well as for his poetry (ed. F. Schulthess, Leipzig, 1897, with German translation); and ‛Urwa ibn ul-Ward of the tribe of ‛Abs, rival of Ḥātim in generosity as well as in poetry (ed. Th. Nöldeke, Göttingen, 1863). Among these early poets are found one Jew of repute, Samau’al (Samuel) ibn Adiyā (cf. Th. Nöldeke’s Beiträge, pp. 52-86; art. s.v. “Samuel ibn Adiya” in Jewish Encyc. and authorities there quoted), and some Christians such as ‛Adī‛ibn Zaid of Hira, who sang alike of the pleasures of drink and of death (ed. by Louis Cheikho in his Les Poètes arabes chrétiens, pp. 439-474, Beirut, 1890; in this work many Arabian poets are considered to be Christian without sufficient reason). One poet, a younger contemporary of Mahomet, has attracted much attention because his poems were religious and he was a monotheist. This is Umayya ibn Abi-ṣ-Ṣalt, a Meccan who did not accept Islam and died in 630. His poems are discussed by F. Schulthess in the Orientalische Studien dedicated by Th. Nöldeke, Giessen, 1906, and his relation to Mahomet by E. Power (in the Mélanges de la faculté orientale de l’université Saint-Joseph, Beirut, 1906). Mahomet’s relation to the poets generally was one of antagonism because of their influence over the Arabs and their devotion to the old religion and customs. Ka‛b ibn Zuhair, however, first condemned to death, then pardoned, later won great favour for himself by writing a panegyric of the Prophet (ed. G. Freytag, Halle, 1823). Another poet, A‛sha (q.v.), followed his example. Labīd (q.v.) and Hassān ibn Thābit (q.v.) were also contemporary. Among the poetesses of the time Khansa (q.v.) is supreme. In the scarcity of poets at this time two others deserve mention; Abū Mihjan, who made peace with Islam in 630 but was exiled for his love of wine, which he celebrated in his verse (ed. L. Abel, Leiden, 1887; cf. C. Landberg’s Primeurs arabes, 1, Leiden, 1886), and Jarwal ibn Aus, known as al-Ḥuṭai‛a, a wandering poet whose keen satires led to his imprisonment by Omar (Poems, ed. by I. Goldziher in the Journal of the German Oriental Society, vols. 46 and 47).

Of the pre-Islamic poets, the most famous were the six whose poems were collected by Asma‘ī around the beginning of the 9th century (ed. W. Ahlwardt, The Diwans of the Six Ancient Arabic Poets, London, 1870). Individual poems from four of these—Amru-ul-Qais, Ṭarafa, Zuhair, and ‘Antara—can be found in the Mo’allakat (q.v.). The other two were Nābigha (q.v.) and ‘Alqama (q.v.). However, there were many others whose names were well-known, such as Ta‘abbata Sharran, a popular hero who recounted his adventures with great enthusiasm; his companion Shanfarā, whose fame comes from a beautiful poem that has been translated into French by de Sacy (in his Chrestomathie Arabe) and into English by G. Hughes (London, 1896); Aus ibn Hajar of the Bani Tamin, recognized for his vivid descriptions of weapons and hunting scenes (ed. R. Geyer, Vienna, 1892); Ḥātim Tā’i, famous for his generosity as well as his poetry (ed. F. Schulthess, Leipzig, 1897, with German translation); and ‘Urwa ibn ul-Ward of the tribe of ‘Abs, who matched Ḥātim in both generosity and poetic skill (ed. Th. Nöldeke, Göttingen, 1863). Among these early poets was also a notable Jew, Samau’al (Samuel) ibn Adiyā (cf. Th. Nöldeke’s Beiträge, pp. 52-86; art. s.v. “Samuel ibn Adiya” in Jewish Encyc. and the sources cited there), and some Christians like ‘Adī ibn Zaid of Hira, who sang about both the joys of drinking and the inevitability of death (ed. by Louis Cheikho in his Les Poètes arabes chrétiens, pp. 439-474, Beirut, 1890; in this work, many Arabian poets are considered Christian without sufficient evidence). One poet, a younger contemporary of Muhammad, has gained much attention because his poems were religious and he was a monotheist. This is Umayya ibn Abi-ṣ-Ṣalt, a Meccan who did not convert to Islam and died in 630. His poems are analyzed by F. Schulthess in the Orientalische Studien dedicated by Th. Nöldeke, Giessen, 1906, and his connection to Muhammad is discussed by E. Power (in the Mélanges de la faculté orientale de l’université Saint-Joseph, Beirut, 1906). Muhammad generally had a contentious relationship with poets due to their influence over the Arabs and their loyalty to the old religion and customs. Ka‘b ibn Zuhair, however, was first sentenced to death but later pardoned and gained great favor by writing a tribute to the Prophet (ed. G. Freytag, Halle, 1823). Another poet, A‘sha (q.v.), followed suit. Labīd (q.v.) and Hassān ibn Thābit (q.v.) were also contemporaries. Among the female poets of this era, Khansa (q.v.) stands out. During this period of limited poets, two others are noteworthy: Abū Mihjan, who embraced Islam in 630 but was exiled for his passion for wine, which he celebrated in his poetry (ed. L. Abel, Leiden, 1887; cf. C. Landberg’s Primeurs arabes, 1, Leiden, 1886), and Jarwal ibn Aus, known as al-Ḥuṭai‘a, a wandering poet whose sharp satire led to his imprisonment by Omar (Poems, ed. by I. Goldziher in the Journal of the German Oriental Society, vols. 46 and 47).

Had the simplicity and religious severity of the first four caliphs continued in their successors, the fate of poetry would have been hard. Probably little but religious poetry would have been allowed. But the Omayyads (with one exception) were not religious men and, while preserving the outward forms of Islam, allowed full liberty to the pre-Islamic customs of the Arabs and the beliefs and practices of Christians. At the same time the 272 circumstances of the poet’s life were altered. Poetry depended on patronage, and that was to be had now chiefly in the court of the caliph and the residences of his governors. Hence the centre of attraction was now the city with its interests, not the desert. Yet the old forms of poetry were kept. The qasīda still required the long introduction (see above), which was entirely occupied with the affairs of the desert. Thus poetry became more and more artificial, until in the Abbasid period poets arose who felt themselves strong enough to give up the worn-out forms and adopt others more suitable. The names of three great poets adorn the Omayyad period: Akhtal, Farazdaq and Jarīr were contemporaries (see separate articles). The first was a Christian of the tribe of Taghlib, whose Christianity enabled him to write many verses which would have been impossible to a professing Moslem. Protected by the caliph he employed the old weapons of satire to support them against the “Helpers” and to exalt his own tribe against the Qaisites. Farazdaq of the Bani Tamīm, a good Moslem but loose in morals, lived chiefly in Medina and Kufa, and was renowned for his command of language. Jarīr of another branch of the Bani Tamīm lived in Irak and courted the favour of Hajjāj, its governor. His satires were so effective that he is said to have crushed forty-three rivals. His great efforts were against Farazdaq, who was supported by Akhtal (cf. The Naka’id of Jarīr and al-Farazdaq, ed. A.A. Bevan, Leiden, 1906 foll.). Among many minor poets one woman is conspicuous. Laila ul-Akhyalīyya (d. 706) was married to a stranger. On the death of her lover in battle, she wrote numerous elegies bewailing him, and so became famous and devoted the rest of her life to the writing of verse. Two poets of the Koreish attained celebrity in Arabia itself at this time. Qais ur-Ruqayyāt was the poet of ‛Abdallah ibn uz-Zubair (Abdallah ibn Zobair) and helped him until circumstances went against him, when he made his peace with the caliph. His poems are chiefly panegyrics and love songs (ed. N. Rhodonakis, Vienna, 1902). ‛Umar ibn Abī Rabī‛a (c. 643-719) was a wealthy man, who lived a life of ease in his native town of Mecca, and devoted himself to intrigues and writing love songs (ed. P. Schwarz, Leipzig, 1901-1902). His poems were very popular throughout Arabia. As a dweller in the town he was independent of the old forms of poetry, which controlled all others, but his influence among poets was not great enough to perpetuate the new style. One other short-lived movement of the Omayyad period should be mentioned. The rajaz poems (see above) had been a subordinate class generally used for improvisations in pre-Mahommedan times. In the 7th and 8th centuries, however, a group of poets employed them more seriously. The most celebrated of these were ‛Ajjāj and his son Ru’ba of the Bani Tamīm (editions by W. Ahlwardt, Berlin, 1903; German trans. of Ru’ba’s poems by Ahlwardt, Berlin, 1904).

Had the simplicity and strict religiousness of the first four caliphs continued with their successors, poetry would have faced difficult times. Likely, only religious poetry would have been accepted. However, the Omayyads (with one exception) were not religious individuals and, while maintaining the outward practices of Islam, allowed full freedom to the pre-Islamic customs of the Arabs and the beliefs and rituals of Christians. At the same time, the poet's life circumstances changed. Poetry relied on patronage, which was now mainly available in the caliph's court and the homes of his governors. Consequently, the city with its interests became the focal point, instead of the desert. Nevertheless, the old poetic forms were preserved. The qasīda still required a lengthy introduction (see above), which was completely focused on desert affairs. Thus, poetry became increasingly artificial until, during the Abbasid period, poets emerged who felt confident enough to abandon the outdated forms and adopt others that were more fitting. The names of three prominent poets from the Omayyad period stand out: Akhtal, Farazdaq, and Jarīr, who were contemporaries (see separate articles). Akhtal was a Christian from the Taghlib tribe, whose faith allowed him to write many verses that a strict Muslim could not. Protected by the caliph, he used the old tools of satire to defend them against the "Helpers" and to praise his own tribe over the Qaisites. Farazdaq, from the Bani Tamīm, was a good Muslim but had loose morals; he mainly lived in Medina and Kufa and was famous for his mastery of language. Jarīr, from another branch of the Bani Tamīm, lived in Iraq and sought the favor of Hajjāj, the governor. His satires were so effective that it is said he defeated forty-three rivals. His main rival was Farazdaq, who was backed by Akhtal (cf. The Naka’id of Jarīr and al-Farazdaq, ed. A.A. Bevan, Leiden, 1906 foll.). Among many lesser poets, one woman stands out. Laila ul-Akhyalīyya (d. 706) was married to a stranger. After her lover was killed in battle, she composed numerous elegies mourning him, gaining fame and dedicating the rest of her life to poetry. Two Quraysh poets also gained recognition in Arabia during this time. Qais ur-Ruqayyāt was the poet of ‛Abdallah ibn uz-Zubair (Abdallah ibn Zobair) and supported him until circumstances turned against him, at which point he reconciled with the caliph. His poems are mainly praises and love songs (ed. N. Rhodonakis, Vienna, 1902). ‛Umar ibn Abī Rabī‛a (c. 643-719) was a wealthy man who lived an easy life in his hometown of Mecca, focusing on intrigues and writing love songs (ed. P. Schwarz, Leipzig, 1901-1902). His poems were immensely popular across Arabia. Being a town dweller, he was free from the constraints of the older poetic forms that dominated others, but his influence among poets wasn't strong enough to sustain the new style. One other brief movement from the Omayyad period should be noted. The rajaz poems (see above) had been a lesser form typically used for improvisation in pre-Mohammedan times. However, in the 7th and 8th centuries, a group of poets utilized them more seriously. The most famous among them were ‛Ajjāj and his son Ru’ba of the Bani Tamīm (editions by W. Ahlwardt, Berlin, 1903; German translation of Ru’ba’s poems by Ahlwardt, Berlin, 1904).

With the establishment of the Abbasid dynasty, a new epoch in Arabian poetry began. The stereotyped beginning of the qasīda had been recognized as antiquated and out of place in city life even in the Omayyad period (cf. Goldziher, Abhandlungen, i. 144 ff). This form had been ridiculed but now it lost its hold altogether, and was only employed occasionally by way of direct imitation of the antique. The rise of Persian influence made itself felt in much the same way as the Norman influence in England by bringing a newer refinement into poetry. Tribal feuds are no longer the main incentives to verse. Individual experiences of life and matters of human interest become more usual subjects. Cynicism, often followed by religion in a poet’s later life, is common. The tumultuous mixture of interests and passions to be found in a city like Bagdad are the subjects of a poet’s verse. One of the earliest of these poets, Muti‛ ibn Ayās, shows the new depth of personal feeling and refinement of expression. Bashshār ibn Burd (d. 783), a blind poet of Persian descent, shows the ascendancy of Persian influence as he openly rails at the Arabs and makes clear his own leaning to the Persian religion. In the 8th century Abu Nuwās (q.v.) is the greatest poet of his time. His language has the purity of the desert, his morals are those of the city, his universalism is that of the man of the world. Abū-l-‛Atāhiya (q.v.), his contemporary, is fluent, simple and often didactic. Muslim ibn ul-Walīd (ed. de Goeje, Leiden, 1875), also contemporary, is more conservative of old forms and given to panegyric and satire. In the 9th century two of the best-known poets—Abū Tammām (q.v.) and Buḥturī (q.v.) —were renowned for their knowledge of old poetry (see Hamasa) and were influenced by it in their own verse. On the other hand Ibn ul-Mo‛tazz (son of the caliph) was the writer of brilliant occasional verse, free of all imitation. In the 10th century the centre of interest is in the court of Saif ud-Daula (addaula) at Aleppo. Here in Motanabbī (q.v.) the claims of modern poetry not only to equal but to excel the ancient were put forward and in part at any rate recognized. Abū Firās (932-968) was a member of the family of Saif ud-Daula, a soldier whose poems have all the charm that comes from the fact that the writer has lived through the events he narrates (ed. by R. Dvořák, Leiden, 1895). Many Arabian writers count Motanabbi the last of the great poets. Yet Abū-l-‛Alā ul-Ma‛arrī (q.v.) was original alike in his use of rhymes and in the philosophical nature of his poems. Ibn Farīd (q.v.) is the greatest of the mystic poets, and Busīri (q.v.) wrote the most famous poem extant in praise of the Prophet. In the provinces of the caliphate there were many poets, who, however, seldom produced original work. Spain, however, produced Ibn ‛Abdūn (d. 1126), famous for the grace and finish of his style (ed. with commentary of Ibn Badrun by R.P.A. Dozy, Leiden, 1846). The Sicilian Ibn Hamdīs (1048-1132) spent the last fifty years of his life in Spain (Diwān, ed. Moaçada, Palermo, 1883; Canzoniere, ed. Schiaparelli, Rome, 1897). It was also apparently in this country that the strophe form was first used in Arabic poems (cf. M. Hartmann’s Das arabische Strophengedicht, Weimar, 1897), and Ibn Quzmān (12th century), a wandering singer, here first used the language of everyday life in the form of verse known as Zajal.

With the rise of the Abbasid dynasty, a new era in Arabian poetry began. The clichéd opening of the qasīda had already been seen as outdated and unsuitable for urban life even during the Umayyad period (see Goldziher, Abhandlungen, i. 144 ff). This format had been mocked, but it eventually fell out of use entirely, now only appearing occasionally as a direct imitation of the past. The growing influence of Persian culture impacted poetry similarly to the Norman influence in England, introducing a new level of sophistication. Tribal conflicts were no longer the main motivation for poetry; instead, individual life experiences and topics of human interest became more common themes. Cynicism, often followed by spirituality in a poet's later life, became prevalent. The chaotic blend of interests and emotions found in a city like Baghdad became the focus of a poet's work. One of the early poets, Muti‛ ibn Ayās, reflects this new depth of personal emotion and refined expression. Bashshār ibn Burd (d. 783), a blind poet of Persian heritage, showcases the growing Persian influence as he openly criticizes the Arabs and expresses his alignment with Persian religion. In the 8th century, Abu Nuwās (q.v.) emerged as the greatest poet of his era. His language reflects the purity of the desert, his morals are urban, and his universalism resonates with a worldly perspective. Abū-l-‛Atāhiya (q.v.), his contemporary, is articulate, straightforward, and often instructive. Muslim ibn ul-Walīd (ed. de Goeje, Leiden, 1875), also from this period, is more traditional in his adherence to old forms and leans towards praise and satire. In the 9th century, two prominent poets—Abū Tammām (q.v.) and Buḥturī (q.v.)—were well-known for their mastery of classical poetry (see Hamasa) and were influenced by it in their own works. Conversely, Ibn ul-Mo‛tazz (the caliph’s son) was known for his striking occasional poetry, free from imitation. In the 10th century, the focus shifted to the court of Saif ud-Daula (addaula) in Aleppo. Here, Motanabbī (q.v.) asserted the modern poetry's claim not only to match but to surpass the ancient works, which was somewhat acknowledged. Abū Firās (932-968), a member of Saif ud-Daula's family and a soldier, penned poems that have the allure stemming from his firsthand experiences (ed. by R. Dvořák, Leiden, 1895). Many Arabian writers consider Motanabbi the last of the great poets. However, Abū-l-‛Alā ul-Ma‛arrī (q.v.) was innovative both in his rhyme schemes and his philosophical themes. Ibn Farīd (q.v.) stands out as the greatest of the mystic poets, while Busīri (q.v.) contributed the most famous poem extant praising the Prophet. In the provinces of the caliphate, there were numerous poets, though they rarely created original works. Spain produced Ibn ‛Abdūn (d. 1126), celebrated for the elegance and polish of his style (ed. with commentary of Ibn Badrun by R.P.A. Dozy, Leiden, 1846). The Sicilian Ibn Hamdīs (1048-1132) spent the last fifty years of his life in Spain (Diwān, ed. Moaçada, Palermo, 1883; Canzoniere, ed. Schiaparelli, Rome, 1897). It appears that it was also in this region where the strophic form was first utilized in Arabic poetry (see M. Hartmann’s Das arabische Strophengedicht, Weimar, 1897), and Ibn Quzmān (12th century), a wandering minstrel, was among the first to employ everyday language in the verse form known as Zajal.

Anthologies.—As supplemental to the account of poetry may be mentioned here some of the chief collections of ancient verse, sometimes made for the sake of the poems themselves, sometimes to give a locus classicus for usages of grammar or lexicography, sometimes to illustrate ancient manners and customs. The earliest of these is the Mo‛allakat (q.v.). In the 8th century Ibn Mofaddal compiled the collection named after him the Mofaddalīyāt. From the 9th century we have the Hamasas of Abū Tammām and Buhturī, and a collection of poems of the tribe Hudhail (second half ed. in part by J.G.L. Kosegarten, London, 1854; completed by J. Wellhausen in Skizzen und Vorarbeiten, i. Berlin, 1884). The numerous quotations of Ibn Qutaiba (q.v.) in the ‛Uyūn ul-Akhbār (ed. C. Brockelmann, Strassburg, 1900 ff.) and the Book of Poetry and Poets (ed. M.J. de Goeje, Leiden, 1904) bring these works into this class. In the 10th century were compiled the Jamharat ash‛ar al Arab, containing forty-nine poems (ed. Būlāq, 1890), the work al-‛Iqd ul-Farīd of Ibn‛ Abdi-r-Rabbihi (ed. Cairo, various years), and the greatest work of all this class, the Kītāb ul-Aghāni (“Book of Songs”) (cf. Abu-l Faraj). The 12th century contributes the Diwān Mukhtarāt ush-Shu‛arā’i with fifty qasīdas. The Khizānai ul-Adab of Abdulqādir, written in the 17th century in the form of a commentary on verses cited in a grammar, contains much old verse (ed. 4 vols., Būlāq, 1882).

Anthologies.—To add to the discussion of poetry, we can mention some of the main collections of ancient verses. These were sometimes compiled for the poems themselves, other times to serve as a locus classicus for grammar or lexicography, and sometimes to showcase ancient customs and culture. The earliest of these is the Mo‛allakat (q.v.). In the 8th century, Ibn Mofaddal put together a collection named after him, the Mofaddalīyāt. From the 9th century, we have the Hamasas by Abū Tammām and Buhturī, and a collection of poems from the Hudhail tribe (partially edited by J.G.L. Kosegarten, London, 1854; completed by J. Wellhausen in Skizzen und Vorarbeiten, i. Berlin, 1884). The many quotations from Ibn Qutaiba (q.v.) in the ‛Uyūn ul-Akhbār (edited by C. Brockelmann, Strassburg, 1900 ff.) and the Book of Poetry and Poets (edited by M.J. de Goeje, Leiden, 1904) also belong to this category. In the 10th century, the Jamharat ash‛ar al Arab was compiled, containing forty-nine poems (edited by Būlāq, 1890), along with the work al-‛Iqd ul-Farīd by Ibn‛ Abdi-r-Rabbihi (edited in Cairo, various years), and the most significant work of this collection, the Kītāb ul-Aghāni (“Book of Songs”) (see Abu-l Faraj). The 12th century brings us the Diwān Mukhtarāt ush-Shu‛arā’i with fifty qasīdas. The Khizānai ul-Adab by Abdulqādir, written in the 17th century as a commentary on verses cited in a grammar, contains much ancient verse (edited in 4 vols., Būlāq, 1882).

Belles-Lettres and Romances.—Mahomet in the Koran had made extensive use of saj’ or rhymed prose (see above). This form then dropped out of use almost entirely for some time. In the 10th century, however, it was revived, occurring almost simultaneously in the Sermons of Ibn Nubāta (946-984) and the Letters of Abū Bakr ul-Khwārizmī. Both have been published several times in the East. The epistolary style was further cultivated by Hamadhāni (q.v.) and carried to perfection by Abū-l‛Alā ul-Ma‛arrī. Hamadhīni was also the first to write in this rhymed prose a new form of work, the Maqāma (“assembly”). The name arose from the fact that scholars were accustomed to assemble for the purpose of rivalling one another in orations showing their knowledge of Arabic language, proverb and verse. In the Maqāmas of Hamadhāni a narrator describes how in various places he met a wandering scholar who in these assemblies puts all his rivals to shame by his eloquence. 273 Each oration forms the substance of a Maqāma, while the Maqāmas themselves are united to one another by the constant meetings of narrator and scholar. Harīrī (q.v.) quite eclipsed the fame of his predecessor in this department, and his Maqāmas retain their influence over Arabian literature to the present day. As late as the 19th century the sheik Nāṣīf ul Yāzījī (1800-1871) distinguished himself by writing sixty clever Maqāmas in the style of Hariri (ed. Beirut, 1856, 1872). While this class of literature had devoted itself chiefly to the finesses of the language, another set of works was given to meeting the requirements of moral education and the training of a gentleman. This, which is known as “Adab literature,” is anecdotic in style with much quotation of early poetry and proverb. Thus government, war, friendship, morality, piety, eloquence, are some of the titles under which Ibn Qutaiba groups his stories and verses in the ‛Uyūn ul Akhbār. Jāhiz (q.v.) in the 9th century and Baihaqī (The Kitāb al-Maḥāsin val-Masāwi, ed. F. Schwally, Giessen, 1900-1902) early in the 10th, wrote works of this class. A little later a Spaniard, Ibn ‛Abdrabbihi (Abdi-r-Rabbihi), wrote his ‛Iqd ul-Farīd (see section Anthologies). The growth of city life in the Abbasid capital led to the desire for a new form of story, differing from the old tales of desert life. This was met in the first place by borrowing. In the 8th century Ibn Muqaffa‛, a convert from Mazdaism to Islam, translated the Pahlavi version of Bidpai’s fables (itself a version of the Indian Panchatantra) into Arabic with the title Kalīla wa Dimna (ed. Beirūt, various years). Owing to the purity of its language and style it has remained a classic work. The Book of the 1001 Nights (Arabian Nights) also has its basis in translations from the Indian through the Persian, made as early as the 9th century. To these stories have been added others originating in Bagdad and Egypt and a few others, which were at first in independent circulation. The whole work seems to have taken its present form (with local variations) about the 13th century. Several other romances of considerable length are extant, such as the Story of ‛Antar (ed. 32 vols., Cairo, 1869, &c., translated in part by Terrick Hamilton, 4 vols., London, 1820), and the Story of Saif ibn Dhī Yezen (ed. Cairo, 1892).

Belles-Lettres and Romances.—Muhammad in the Quran extensively used saj’ or rhymed prose (see above). This form nearly disappeared for a while. In the 10th century, though, it made a comeback, appearing almost simultaneously in the Sermons of Ibn Nubāta (946-984) and the Letters of Abū Bakr ul-Khwārizmī. Both texts have been published multiple times in the East. The epistolary style was further developed by Hamadhāni (q.v.) and perfected by Abū-l‛Alā ul-Ma‛arrī. Hamadhāni was also the first to write in this rhymed prose a new type of work, the Maqāma (“assembly”). This name came from the fact that scholars would gather to compete against each other in orations showcasing their knowledge of the Arabic language, proverbs, and verse. In Hamadhāni's Maqāmas, a narrator describes how he meets a wandering scholar in different places who consistently outshines his competitors with his eloquence. 273 Each oration serves as the content of a Maqāma, while the Maqāmas themselves are connected by the continuous meetings of the narrator and scholar. Harīrī (q.v.) completely overshadowed his predecessor in this genre, and his Maqāmas continue to influence Arabic literature to this day. As recently as the 19th century, the sheik Nāṣīf ul Yāzījī (1800-1871) distinguished himself by writing sixty clever Maqāmas in the style of Hariri (ed. Beirut, 1856, 1872). While this genre focused mainly on the intricacies of the language, another set of writings addressed the needs of moral education and gentlemanly training. This, known as “Adab literature,” is anecdotal in style with much quotation of earlier poetry and proverbs. Thus government, war, friendship, morality, piety, and eloquence are some of the themes under which Ibn Qutaiba organizes his stories and verses in the ‛Uyūn ul Akhbār. Jāhiz (q.v.) in the 9th century and Baihaqī (The Kitāb al-Maḥāsin val-Masāwi, ed. F. Schwally, Giessen, 1900-1902) early in the 10th century wrote works in this category. A bit later, a Spaniard, Ibn ‛Abdrabbihi (Abdi-r-Rabbihi), penned his ‛Iqd ul-Farīd (see section Anthologies). The rise of urban life in the Abbasid capital led to a demand for a new type of story, different from the old desert tales. This was initially addressed through adaptation. In the 8th century, Ibn Muqaffa‛, a convert from Mazdaism to Islam, translated the Pahlavi version of Bidpai’s fables (which itself is derived from the Indian Panchatantra) into Arabic, titled Kalīla wa Dimna (ed. Beirūt, various years). Due to its pure language and style, it has remained a classic. The Book of the 1001 Nights (Arabian Nights) also has its roots in translations from the Indian through the Persian, made as early as the 9th century. Additional stories originated in Baghdad and Egypt, along with a few others that were initially circulated independently. The entire collection appears to have taken its current form (with local variations) around the 13th century. Several other lengthy romances exist, such as the Story of ‛Antar (ed. 32 vols., Cairo, 1869, &c., translated in part by Terrick Hamilton, 4 vols., London, 1820), and the Story of Saif ibn Dhī Yezen (ed. Cairo, 1892).

(G. W. T.)

Historical Literature.—Arabian historians differ from all others in the unique form of their compositions. Each event is related in the words of eye-witnesses or contemporaries transmitted to the final narrator through a chain of intermediate reporters (rāwīs), each of whom passed on the original report to his successor. Often the same account is given in two or more slightly divergent forms, which have come down through different chains of reporters. Often, too, one event or one important detail is told in several ways on the basis of several contemporary statements transmitted to the final narrator through distinct lines of tradition. The writer, therefore, exercises no independent criticism except as regards the choice of authorities; for he rejects accounts of which the first author or one of the intermediate links seems to him unworthy of credit, and sometimes he states which of several accounts seems to him the best.

Historical Literature.—Arabian historians are different from others because of the unique way they write. Each event is described using the words of eye-witnesses or contemporaries, passed down to the final narrator through a series of intermediate reporters (rāwīs), each of whom relayed the original report to his successor. Often, the same story appears in two or more slightly different versions, which have come through different reporting chains. Additionally, one event or an important detail may be recounted in various ways based on several statements from contemporaries, passed down to the final narrator through separate traditions. The writer, therefore, doesn't apply independent criticism other than choosing which sources to trust; he dismisses accounts where the first author or any intermediate link seems unreliable, and sometimes he indicates which of the multiple accounts he considers the most credible.

A second type of Arabian historiography is that in which an author combines the different traditions about one occurrence into one continuous narrative, but prefixes a statement as to the lines of authorities used and states which of them he mainly follows. In this case the writer recurs to the first method, already described, only when the different traditions are greatly at variance with one another. In yet a third type of history the old method is entirely forsaken and we have a continuous narrative only occasionally interrupted by citation of the authority for some particular point. But the principle still is that what has been well said once need not be told again in other words. The writer, therefore, keeps as close as he can to the letter of his sources, so that quite a late writer often reproduces the very words of the first narrator.

A second type of Arabian historiography is when an author combines various traditions about an event into a single continuous narrative, but starts with a note about the sources used and indicates which one he primarily follows. In this case, the writer returns to the first method described earlier only when the different traditions significantly conflict with each other. In a third type of history, the old method is completely abandoned, resulting in a continuous narrative that is only occasionally interrupted by citations of the authority for specific points. However, the principle remains that what has been said well once doesn’t need to be rephrased. Therefore, the writer tries to stick closely to the wording of their sources, so that even a later writer often reproduces the exact words of the first narrator.

From very early times story-tellers and singers found their subjects in the doughty deeds of the tribe on its forays, and sometimes in contests with foreign powers and in the impression produced by the wealth and might of the sovereigns of Persia and Constantinople. The appearance of the Prophet with the great changes that ensued, the conquests that made the Arabs lords of half the civilized world, supplied a vast store of new matter for relations which men were never weary of hearing and recounting. They wished to know everything about the apostle of God. Every one who had known or seen him was questioned and was eager to answer. Moreover, the word of God in the Koran left many practical points undecided, and therefore it was of the highest importance to know exactly how the Prophet had spoken and acted in various circumstances. Where could this be better learned than at Medina, where he had lived so long and where the majority of his companions continued to live? So at Medina a school was gradually formed, where the chief part of the traditions about Mahomet and his first successors took a form more or less fixed. Soon men began to assist memory by making notes, and pupils sought to take written jottings of what they had heard from their teachers. Thus by the close of the 1st century many dictata were already in circulation. For example, Ḥasan of Baṣra (d. 728 A.D.) had a great mass of such notes, and he was accused of sometimes passing off as oral tradition things he had really drawn from books; for oral tradition was still the one recognized authority, and it is related of more than one old scholar, and even of Hasan of Basra himself, that he directed his books to be burned at his death. The books were mere helps. Long after this date, when all scholars drew mainly from books, the old forms were still kept up. Ṭabarī, for example, when he cites a book expresses himself as if he had heard what he quotes from the master with whom he read the passage or from whose copy he transcribed it. He even expresses himself in this wise: “‛Omar b. Shabba has related to me in his book on the history of Baṣra.” No independent book of the 1st century from the Flight (i.e. 622-719) has come down to us. It is told, however, that Moawiya summoned an old man named ‛Abid ibn Sharya from Yemen to Damascus to tell him all he knew about ancient history and that he induced him to write down his information. This very likely formed the nucleus of a book which bore the name of that sheik and was much read in the 3rd century from the Flight. It seems to be lost now. But in the 2nd century (719-816) real books began to be composed. The materials were supplied in the first place by oral tradition, in the second by the dictata of older scholars, and finally by various kinds of documents, such as treaties, letters, collections of poetry and genealogical lists. Genealogical studies had become necessary through Omar’s system of assigning state pensions to certain classes of persons according to their kinship with the Prophet, or their deserts during his lifetime. This subject received much attention even in the 1st century, but books about it were first written in the 2nd, the most famous being those of Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 763), of his son Hishām (d. 819), and of Al-Sharqī ibn al-Quṭāmī. Genealogy, which often called for elucidations, led on to history. Baladhuri’s excellent Ansāb al-Ashrāf (Genealogies of the Nobles) is a history of the Arabs on a genealogical plan.

From very early times, storytellers and singers found inspiration in the brave actions of their tribe during raids, and sometimes in battles with foreign powers, as well as the impression made by the wealth and power of the rulers of Persia and Constantinople. The emergence of the Prophet and the significant changes that followed, including the conquests that made the Arabs the lords of half the civilized world, provided a wealth of new material for stories that people were always eager to hear and share. They wanted to know everything about the messenger of God. Anyone who had known or seen him was questioned and was enthusiastic to answer. Additionally, the word of God in the Koran left many practical issues unresolved, making it crucial to know exactly how the Prophet had spoken and acted in different situations. Where could this be better learned than in Medina, where he had lived for so long and where most of his companions continued to reside? Thus, a school gradually formed in Medina, where the main part of the traditions about Mahomet and his first successors took on a more or less fixed form. Soon, people started taking notes to aid their memory, and students sought to jot down what they had heard from their teachers. By the end of the 1st century, many dictata were already in circulation. For instance, Ḥasan of Baṣra (d. 728 CE) accumulated a substantial number of these notes, and he was accused of sometimes presenting as oral tradition things he had actually gathered from books; for oral tradition was still the only recognized authority. Reports say that more than one old scholar, including Hasan of Basra himself, instructed that his books be burned upon his death. The books were simply supplementary. Long after this time, when all scholars mainly relied on books, the traditional forms were still maintained. Ṭabarī, for example, when he cites a book, presents it as if he had heard what he quotes directly from the master with whom he studied the passage or from whose copy he transcribed it. He even expresses it this way: “‛Omar b. Shabba has related to me in his book on the history of Baṣra.” No independent book from the 1st century after the Flight (i.e. 622-719) has survived to us. However, it is noted that Moawiya summoned an elderly man named ‛Abid ibn Sharya from Yemen to Damascus to share everything he knew about ancient history and encouraged him to write down his knowledge. This likely became the basis of a book that bore the name of that sheik and was widely read in the 3rd century after the Flight. It seems to be lost now. But in the 2nd century (719-816), real books began to be composed. The materials were initially provided by oral tradition, secondarily by the dictata of earlier scholars, and finally by various documents such as treaties, letters, poetry collections, and genealogical lists. Genealogy studies became necessary due to Omar’s system of assigning state pensions to certain classes of people based on their kinship with the Prophet or their contributions during his lifetime. This topic received much attention even in the 1st century, but books about it were first written in the 2nd, with the most famous being those of Ibn al-Kalbī (d. 763), his son Hishām (d. 819), and Al-Sharqī ibn al-Quṭāmī. The study of genealogy, which often required explanations, led to history. Baladhuri’s excellent Ansāb al-Ashrāf (Genealogies of the Nobles) is a historical account of the Arabs structured around genealogy.

The oldest extant history is the biography of the Prophet by Ibn Isḥāq (d. 767). This work is generally trustworthy. Mahomet’s life before he appeared as a prophet and the story of his ancestors are indeed mixed with many fables illustrated by spurious verses. But in Ibn Isḥāq’s day these fables were generally accepted as history—for many of them had been first related by contemporaries of Mahomet—and no one certainly thought it blameworthy to put pious verses in the mouth of the Prophet’s forefathers, though, according to the Fihrist (p. 92), Ibn Isḥāq was duped by others with regard to the poems he quotes. The original work of Ibn Isḥāq seems to be lost. That which we possess is an edition of it by Ibn Hishām (d. 834) with additions and omissions (text ed. by F. Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, 1858-1860; German translation by Weil, Stuttgart, 1864).

The oldest surviving history is the biography of the Prophet by Ibn Isḥāq (d. 767). This work is generally reliable. Muhammad's life before he became a prophet and the story of his ancestors are indeed mixed with many myths illustrated by fabricated verses. However, in Ibn Isḥāq's time, these myths were widely accepted as history—many of them had been first told by Muhammad's contemporaries—and no one certainly thought it was wrong to attribute pious verses to the Prophet’s ancestors, although, according to the Fihrist (p. 92), Ibn Isḥāq was misled by others regarding the poems he quoted. The original work of Ibn Isḥāq appears to be lost. What we have is an edition of it by Ibn Hishām (d. 834) with additions and omissions (text ed. by F. Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, 1858-1860; German translation by Weil, Stuttgart, 1864).

The Life of the Prophet by Ibn Oqba (d. 758), based on the statements of two very trustworthy men, ‛Urwa ibn az-Zubair (d. 713) and Az-zuhri (d. 742), was still much read in Syria in the 14th century. Fragments of this have been edited by E. Sachau, Berlin, 1904. We fortunately possess the Book of the Campaigns of the Prophet by al-Wāqidī (d. 822) and the 274 important Book of Classes of his disciple Ibn Sa‛d (q.v.). Wāqidī had much more copious materials than Ibn Isḥāq, but gives way much more to a popular and sometimes romancing style of treatment. Nevertheless he sometimes helps us to recognize in Ibn Isḥāq’s narrative modifications of the genuine tradition made for a purpose, and the additional details he supplies set various events before us in a clearer light. Apart from this his chief merits lie in his studies on the subject of the traditional authorities, the results of which are given by Ibn Sa‛d, and in his chronology, which is often excellent. A special study of the traditions about the conquest of Syria made by M.J. de Goeje in 1864 (Mémoires sur la conquête de la Syrie, 2nd ed., Leiden, 1900), led to the conclusion that Waqidi’s chronology is sound as regards the main events, and that later historians have gone astray by forsaking his guidance. This result has been confirmed by certain contemporary notices found by Th. Nöldeke in 1874 in a Syriac MS. of the British Museum. And that Ibn Isḥāq agrees with Wāqidī in certain main dates is important evidence for the trustworthiness of the former also. For the chronology before the year 10 of the Flight Wāqidī did his best, but here, the material being defective, many of his conclusions are precarious. Wāqidī had already a great library at his disposal. He is said to have had 600 chests of books, chiefly dictata written by or for himself, but in part real books by Abū Mikhnaf (d. 748), Ibn Isḥāq (whom he uses but does not name), ‛Awāna (d. 764), Abū Mashar (d. 791) and other authors. Abū Mikhnaf left a great number of monographs on the chief events from the death of the Prophet to the caliphate of Walid II. These were much used by later writers, and we have many extracts from them, but none of the works themselves except a sort of romance based on his account of the death of Hosain (Ḥusain) of which Wüstenfeld has given a translation. With regard to the history of Irak in particular he was deemed to have the best information, and for this subject he is Tabari’s chief source, just as Madāinī, a younger contemporary of Wāqidī, is followed by preference in all that relates to Khorasan. Madāinī’s History of the Caliphs is the best, if not the oldest, published before Ṭabarī; but this book is known only by the excerpts given by later writers, particularly Balādhuri and Ṭabarī. From these we judge that he had great narrative power, with much clear and exact learning, and must be placed high as a critical historian. His plan was to record the various traditions about an event, choosing them with critical skill; sometimes, however, he fused the several traditions into a continuous narrative. A just estimate of the relative value of the historians can only be reached by careful comparison in detail. This has been essayed by Brünnow in his study on the Khārijites (Leiden, 1884), in which the narrative of Mubarrad in the Kāmil is compared with the excerpts of Madaini given by Balādhuri and those of Abū Mikhnaf given by Ṭabarī. The conclusion reached is that Abū Mikhnaf and Mādainī are both well informed and impartial.

The Life of the Prophet by Ibn Oqba (d. 758), based on the accounts of two very reliable sources, ‛Urwa ibn az-Zubair (d. 713) and Az-zuhri (d. 742), was still widely read in Syria in the 14th century. Fragments of this work were edited by E. Sachau, Berlin, 1904. We are fortunate to have the Book of the Campaigns of the Prophet by al-Wāqidī (d. 822) and the 274 important Book of Classes by his student Ibn Sa‛d (q.v.). Wāqidī had much more extensive materials than Ibn Isḥāq but used a more popular and sometimes romanticized style. Nevertheless, he helps us identify modifications in Ibn Isḥāq’s narrative that were made intentionally, and the extra details he provides clarify various events. His main strengths lie in his studies of traditional authorities, as summarized by Ibn Sa‛d, and in his often excellent chronology. A special study of the traditions regarding the conquest of Syria by M.J. de Goeje in 1864 (Mémoires sur la conquête de la Syrie, 2nd ed., Leiden, 1900) concluded that Waqidi’s chronology is reliable concerning major events, and that later historians have erred by ignoring his guidance. This finding was confirmed by certain contemporary references discovered by Th. Nöldeke in 1874 in a Syriac manuscript at the British Museum. The agreement between Ibn Isḥāq and Wāqidī on key dates also lends credibility to Ibn Isḥāq. For the chronology before the year 10 of the Flight, Wāqidī did his best, but due to defective materials, many of his conclusions are uncertain. Wāqidī had access to a large library, reportedly containing 600 chests of books, mostly dictata written by or for himself, but also genuine works by Abū Mikhnaf (d. 748), Ibn Isḥāq (whom he uses but does not name), ‛Awāna (d. 764), Abū Mashar (d. 791), and others. Abū Mikhnaf produced numerous monographs on major events from the death of the Prophet to the caliphate of Walid II. These were widely referenced by later authors, and we have many excerpts from them, but none of the original works except a sort of romance based on his account of the death of Hosain (Ḥusain), which Wüstenfeld has translated. Regarding the history of Irak specifically, he was considered the best source, and Tabari relied on him, just as Madāinī, a younger contemporary of Wāqidī, is preferred for matters related to Khorasan. Madāinī’s History of the Caliphs is the best, if not the oldest, published before Ṭabarī; however, this book is known only through excerpts provided by later writers, particularly Balādhuri and Ṭabarī. From these, we gather that he had great narrative skill, with much clear and precise learning, and should be regarded highly as a critical historian. His approach was to record the various traditions regarding an event, choosing them with critical discernment; sometimes, however, he merged several traditions into a continuous narrative. A fair assessment of the relative value of the historians can only be achieved through careful detailed comparison. This has been attempted by Brünnow in his study on the Khārijites (Leiden, 1884), in which the narrative of Mubarrad in the Kāmil is compared with the excerpts of Madāinī provided by Balādhuri and those of Abū Mikhnaf given by Ṭabarī. The conclusion is that both Abū Mikhnaf and Madāinī are well-informed and impartial.

Among the contemporaries of Wāqidī and Mādainī were Ibn Khidāsh (d. 838), the historian of the family Muhallab, whose work was one of Mubarrad’s sources for the History of the Khārijites; Haitham ibn ‛Adi (d. 822), whose works, though now lost, are often cited; and Saif ibn ‛Omar at-Tamīmī, whose book on the revolt of the tribes under Abu-Bekr and on the Mahommedan conquests was much used by Ṭabarī. His narratives are detailed and often tinged with romance, and he is certainly much inferior to Wāqidī in accuracy. Wellhausen has thoroughly examined the work of Saif in Skizzen und Vorarbeiten, vi. Besides these are to be mentioned Abū ‛Ubaida (d. 825), who was celebrated as a philologist and wrote several historical monographs that are often cited, and Azraqī, whose excellent History of Mecca was published after his death by his grandson (d. 858). With these writers we pass into the 3rd century of Islam. But we have still an important point to notice in the 2nd century; for in it learned Persians began to take part in the creation of Arabic historical literature. Ibn Muqaffa‛ translated the great Book of Persian Kings, and others followed his example. Ṭabarī and his contemporaries, senior and junior, such as Ibn Qutaiba, Ya‛qūbī, Dīnawarī, preserve to us a good part of the information about Persian history made known through such translations.4 But even more important than the knowledge conveyed by these works was their influence on literary style and composition. Half a century later began versions from the Greek either direct or through the Syriac. The pieces translated were mostly philosophical; but the Arabs also learned something, however superficially, of ancient history.

Among the contemporaries of Wāqidī and Mādainī were Ibn Khidāsh (d. 838), the historian of the Muhallab family, whose work was one of Mubarrad’s sources for the History of the Khārijites; Haitham ibn ‛Adi (d. 822), whose works, though now lost, are often referenced; and Saif ibn ‛Omar at-Tamīmī, whose book on the revolt of the tribes under Abu-Bekr and on the Muslim conquests was frequently used by Ṭabarī. His narratives are detailed and often have a romantic touch, but he is definitely not as accurate as Wāqidī. Wellhausen thoroughly examined Saif's work in Skizzen und Vorarbeiten, vi. We should also mention Abū ‛Ubaida (d. 825), who was famous as a philologist and wrote several historical monographs that are frequently cited, and Azraqī, whose impressive History of Mecca was published posthumously by his grandson (d. 858). With these writers, we enter the 3rd century of Islam. However, there’s still an important development in the 2nd century; during this time, educated Persians began to contribute to the growth of Arabic historical literature. Ibn Muqaffa‛ translated the significant Book of Persian Kings, and others followed his lead. Ṭabarī and his contemporaries, both senior and junior, such as Ibn Qutaiba, Ya‛qūbī, and Dīnawarī, preserved a substantial amount of information about Persian history made known through such translations. But even more significant than the knowledge shared by these works was their impact on literary style and composition. About fifty years later, translations from the Greek began, either directly or through the Syriac. The works translated were mostly philosophical, but the Arabs also gained some knowledge, albeit superficial, of ancient history.

The 3rd century (816-913) was far more productive than the 2nd. Abū ‛Ubaida was succeeded by Ibn al-A‛rābī (d. 846), who in like manner was chiefly famous as a philologist, and who wrote about ancient poems and battles. Much that he wrote is quoted in Tabrīzī’s commentary on the Ḥamāsa, which is still richer in extracts from the historical elucidations of early poems given by ar-Riyāshī (d. 871). Of special fame as a genealogist was Ibn Ḥabīb (d. 859), of whom we have a booklet on Arabian tribal names (ed. Wüstenfeld, 1850). Azraqi again was followed by Fākihī, who wrote a History of Mecca in 885,5 and ‛Omar b. Shabba (d. 876), who composed an excellent history of Baṣra, known to us only by excerpts. Of the works of Zubair b. Bakkār (d. 870), one of Ṭabarī’s teachers, a learned historian and genealogist much consulted by later writers, there is a fragment in the Köprülü library at Constantinople, and another in Göttingen, part of which has been made known by Wüstenfeld (Die Familie Al-Zobair, Göttingen, 1878). Ya‛qūbī (Ibn Wāḍiḥ) wrote a short general history of much value (published by Houtsma, Leiden, 1883). About India he knows more than his predecessors and more than his successors down to Berūnī. Ibn Khordādhbeh’s historical works are lost. Ibn ‛Abdalḥakam (d. 871) wrote of the conquest of Egypt and the West. Extracts from this book are given by M‛G. de Slane in his Histoire des Berbères, from which we gather that it was a medley of true tradition and romance, and must be reckoned, with the book of his slightly senior contemporary, the Spaniard Ibn Ḥābīb, in the class of historical romances. A high place must be assigned to the historian Ibn Qutaiba or Kotaiba (d. 889), who wrote a very useful Handbook of History (ed. Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, 1850). Much more eminent is Balādhurī (d. 893), whose book on the Arab conquest (ed. M.J. de Goeje, Leiden, 1865-1866) merits the special praise given to it by Mas‛ūdī, and who also wrote a large work, the Ansāb al-Ashrāf. A contemporary, Ibn abi Tāhir Taifūr (d. 894), wrote on the Abbasid caliphs and was drawn on by Ṭabarī. The sixth part of his work is in the British Museum. The universal history of Dinawari (d. 896), entitled The Long Narratives, has been edited by Girgas (1887).

The 3rd century (816-913) was much more productive than the 2nd. Abū ‛Ubaida was succeeded by Ibn al-A‛rābī (d. 846), who was mainly known as a philologist and wrote about ancient poems and battles. A lot of what he wrote is quoted in Tabrīzī’s commentary on the Ḥamāsa, which includes many excerpts from the historical explanations of early poems by ar-Riyāshī (d. 871). Ibn Ḥabīb (d. 859) gained special fame as a genealogist, and we have a booklet from him on Arabian tribal names (ed. Wüstenfeld, 1850). After Azraqi, Fākihī wrote a History of Mecca in 885, and ‛Omar b. Shabba (d. 876) created an excellent history of Baṣra, which we only know from excerpts. Zubair b. Bakkār (d. 870), one of Ṭabarī’s teachers, was a learned historian and genealogist frequently referenced by later writers; a fragment of his work is in the Köprülü library in Constantinople, and another in Göttingen, some of which has been revealed by Wüstenfeld (Die Familie Al-Zobair, Göttingen, 1878). Ya‛qūbī (Ibn Wāḍiḥ) wrote a short but valuable general history (published by Houtsma, Leiden, 1883). He knew more about India than his predecessors and successors until Berūnī. Ibn Khordādhbeh’s historical works are lost. Ibn ‛Abdalḥakam (d. 871) wrote about the conquest of Egypt and the West. Extracts from this book are provided by M‛G. de Slane in his Histoire des Berbères, from which we learn that it was a mix of true tradition and romance, placing it alongside the work of his slightly senior contemporary, the Spaniard Ibn Ḥābīb, in the category of historical romances. A significant place must be given to the historian Ibn Qutaiba or Kotaiba (d. 889), who wrote a very useful Handbook of History (ed. Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, 1850). Balādhurī (d. 893) is much more prominent; his book on the Arab conquest (ed. M.J. de Goeje, Leiden, 1865-1866) deserves the special praise it received from Mas‛ūdī, and he also wrote a large work called Ansāb al-Ashrāf. A contemporary, Ibn abi Tāhir Taifūr (d. 894), wrote about the Abbasid caliphs and was referenced by Ṭabarī. The sixth part of his work is in the British Museum. The universal history of Dinawari (d. 896), titled The Long Narratives, was edited by Girgas (1887).

All these histories are more or less thrown into the shade by the great work of Ṭabarī (q.v.), whose fame has never faded from his own day to ours. The Annals (ed. M. de Goeje, Leiden, 1879-1901) are a general history from the creation to 302 A.H. (= A.D. 915). As a literary composition they do not rank very high, which may be due partly to the author’s years, partly to the inequality of his sources, sometimes superabundant, sometimes defective, partly perhaps to the somewhat hasty condensation of his original draft. Nevertheless the value of the book is very great: the author’s selection of traditions is usually happy, and the episodes of most importance are treated with most fulness of detail, so that it deserves the high reputation it has enjoyed from the first. This reputation rose steadily; there were twenty copies (one of them written by Tabari’s own hand) in the library of the Fatimite caliph ‛Aziz (latter half of the 4th century), whereas, when Saladin became lord of Egypt, the princely library contained 1200 copies (Maqrīzī, i. 408 seq.).

All these histories are somewhat overshadowed by the great work of Ṭabarī (q.v.), whose reputation has remained strong from his time to ours. The Annals (ed. M. de Goeje, Leiden, 1879-1901) provide a general history from creation to 302 A.H. (= CE 915). As a literary piece, it doesn’t rank very highly, possibly because of the author's old age, the uneven quality of his sources—some being abundant and others lacking—or perhaps due to the somewhat rushed condensation of his original draft. Nonetheless, the book's value is significant: the author's selection of traditions is typically well-chosen, and the most important episodes are covered in great detail, which justifies its long-standing high reputation. This reputation grew steadily; there were twenty copies (one written by Ṭabarī himself) in the library of the Fatimite caliph ‛Aziz (latter half of the 4th century), while by the time Saladin took control of Egypt, the princely library held 1200 copies (Maqrīzī, i. 408 seq.).

The Annals soon came to be dealt with in various ways. They were published in shorter form with the omission of the names of authorities and of most of the poems cited; some passages quoted by later writers are not found even in the Leiden edition. On the other hand, some interpolations took place, one in the 275 author’s lifetime and perhaps by his own hand. Then many supplements were written, e.g. by Ferghānī (not extant) and by Hamadhani (partly preserved in Paris). ‛Arīb of Cordova made an abridgment, adding the history of the West and continuing the story to about 975.6 Ibn Mashkawaih wrote a history from the creation to 980, with the purpose of drawing the lessons of the story, following Ṭabarī closely, as far as his book is known, and seldom recurring to other sources before the reign of Moqtadir; what follows is his own composition and shows him to be a writer of talent.7 In 963 an abridgment of the Annals was translated into Persian by Bal‛amī, who, however, interwove many fables.8 Ibn al-Athīr (d. 1234) abridged the whole work, usually with judgment, but sometimes too hastily. Though he sometimes glided lightly over difficulties, his work is of service in fixing the text of Ṭabarī. He also furnished a continuation to the year 1224. Later writers took Ṭabarī as their main authority, but sometimes consulted other sources, and so add to our knowledge—especially Ibn al-Jauzī (d. 1201), who adds many important details. These later historians had valuable help from the biographies of famous men and special histories of countries and cities, dynasties and princes, on which much labour was spent from the 4th century from the Flight onwards.

The Annals were soon approached in different ways. They were published in a shorter format, leaving out the names of authorities and most of the cited poems; some quotes from later writers aren't even found in the Leiden edition. On the flip side, there were some additions, one during the author's lifetime and possibly by his own hand. Additionally, many supplements were created, like those by Ferghānī (which are no longer available) and Hamadhani (partly preserved in Paris). ‛Arīb of Cordova created an abridgment that included the history of the West and carried the story up to around 975.6 Ibn Mashkawaih wrote a history from creation to 980, aiming to draw lessons from it, closely following Ṭabarī's work as far as is known and rarely referencing other sources before the reign of Moqtadir; what follows is his own writing style, revealing his talent.7 In 963, an abridgment of the Annals was translated into Persian by Bal‛amī, who, however, mixed in many fables.8 Ibn al-Athīr (d. 1234) abridged the entire work, usually with good judgment but sometimes a bit too quickly. While he occasionally skimmed over challenges, his work is helpful in clarifying the text of Ṭabarī. He also provided a continuation up to the year 1224. Later historians relied mainly on Ṭabarī while sometimes checking other sources, which helped enhance our understanding—especially with Ibn al-Jauzī (d. 1201), who contributed many important details. These later historians benefited greatly from biographies of notable figures and specialized histories of countries, cities, dynasties, and rulers, which were thoroughly researched from the 4th century after the Flight onward.

The chief historians after Ṭabarī may be briefly mentioned in chronological order. Rāzī (d. A.D. 932) wrote a History of Spain; Eutychius (d. 940) wrote Annals (ed. L. Cheikho, Paris, 1906), which are very important because he gives the Christian tradition; Suli (d. 946) wrote on the Abbasid caliphs, their viziers and court poets; Mas‛udi (q.v.) composed various historical and geographical works (d. 956). Of Ṭabarī’s contemporary Hamza Ispahānī (c. 940) we have the Annals (ed. Gottwaldt, St Petersburg, 1844); Ibn al-Qūṭīya wrote a History of Spain; Ibn Zūlāq (d. 997) a History of Egypt; ‛Otbi wrote the History of Mahmud of Ghazna, at whose court he lived (printed on the margin of the Egyptian edition of Ibn al-Athīr); Tha‛labī (d. 1036) wrote a well-known History of the Old Prophets; Abu Nu‛aim al-Ispahānī (d. 1039) wrote a History of Ispahan, chiefly of the scholars of that city; Tha‛ālibī (d. c. 1038) wrote, inter alia, a well-known History of the Poets of his Time, published at Damascus, 1887; Birūnī (q.v.) (d. 1048) takes a high place among historians; Koda‛ī (d. 1062) wrote a Description of Egypt and also various historical pieces, of which some are extant; Ibn Sā‛id of Cordova (d. 1070) wrote a View of the History of the Various Nations. Bagdad and its learned men found an excellent historian in al-Khātib al-Baghdādī (d. 1071), and Spain in Ibn Hayan (d. 1076), and half a century later in Ibn Khaqān (d. 1135) and Ibn Bassam (d. 1147). Sam‛ani (d. 1167) wrote an excellent book on genealogies; ‛Umāra (d. 1175) wrote a History of Yemen (ed. H.C. Kay, London, 1892); Ibn ‛Asaqir (d. 1176) a History of Damascus and her Scholars, which is of great value, and exists in whole or in part in several libraries. The Biographical Dictionary of the Spaniard Ibn Pascual (d. 1182) and that of Dabbi, a somewhat junior contemporary, are edited in Codera’s Bibliotheca Arab. Hisp. (1883-1885); Saladin found his historian in the famous ‛Imād uddīn (d. 1201) (Arabic text, ed. C. Landberg, Leiden, 1888). Ibn ul-Jauzī, who died in the same year, has been already mentioned. Abdulwahid’s History of the Almohades, written in 1224, was published by Dozy (2nd ed., 1881). Abdullatif or Abdallatīf (d. 1232) is known by his writings about Egypt (trans. de Sacy, 1810); Ibn al-Athīr (d. 1233) wrote, in addition to the Chronicle already mentioned, a Biographical Dictionary of Contemporaries of the Prophet. Qifti (d. 1248) is especially known by his History of Arabic Philologists. Sibt ibn al-Jauzi (d. 1256), grandson of the Ibn al-Jauzī already mentioned, wrote a great Chronicle, of which much the larger part still exists. Codera has edited (Madrid, 1886) Ibn al-‛Abbar’s (d. 1260) Biographical Lexicon, already known by Dozy’s excerpts from it. Ibn al-‛Adīm (d. 1262) is famed for his History of Aleppo, and Abu Shama (d. 1267) wrote a well-known History of Saladin and Nureddin, taking a great deal from ‛Imad uddin. Ibn abī Usaibia (d. 1269) wrote a History of Physicians, ed. A. Müller. The History of Ibn al-‛Amīd (d. 1276), better known as Elmacin, was printed by Erpenius in 1625. Ibn Sa‛īd al-Maghribī (d. 1274 or 1286) is famous for his histories, but still more for his geographical writings. The noted theologian Nawāwī (q.v.; d. 1278) wrote a Biographical Dictionary of the Worthies of the First Ages of Islam. Preeminent as a biographer is Ibn Khallikān (q.v.; d. 1282), whose much-used work was partly edited by de Slane and completely by Wüstenfeld (1835-1840), and translated into English by the former scholar (4 vols., 1843-1871).

The main historians after Ṭabarī can be briefly noted in chronological order. Rāzī (d. A.D. 932) wrote a *History of Spain*; Eutychius (d. 940) wrote *Annals* (ed. L. Cheikho, Paris, 1906), which are very important because he provides the Christian tradition; Suli (d. 946) wrote about the Abbasid caliphs, their viziers, and court poets; Mas‛udi (see q.v.) produced various historical and geographical works (d. 956). Among Ṭabarī’s contemporary Hamza Ispahānī (c. 940), we have the *Annals* (ed. Gottwaldt, St Petersburg, 1844); Ibn al-Qūṭīya wrote a *History of Spain*; Ibn Zūlāq (d. 997) authored a *History of Egypt*; ‛Otbi wrote the *History of Mahmud of Ghazna*, at whose court he lived (printed on the margin of the Egyptian edition of Ibn al-Athīr); Tha‛labī (d. 1036) wrote a well-known *History of the Old Prophets*; Abu Nu‛aim al-Ispahānī (d. 1039) wrote a *History of Ispahan*, mainly about the scholars of that city; Tha‛ālibī (d. c. 1038) wrote, among other works, a well-known *History of the Poets of his Time*, published in Damascus, 1887; Birūnī (see q.v.) (d. 1048) is highly regarded among historians; Koda‛ī (d. 1062) wrote a *Description of Egypt* and various historical pieces, some of which still exist; Ibn Sā‛id of Cordova (d. 1070) composed a *View of the History of the Various Nations*. Baghdad and its scholars found an excellent historian in al-Khātib al-Baghdādī (d. 1071), while Spain had Ibn Hayan (d. 1076), and half a century later, Ibn Khaqān (d. 1135) and Ibn Bassam (d. 1147). Sam‛ani (d. 1167) wrote an excellent book on genealogies; ‛Umāra (d. 1175) authored a *History of Yemen* (ed. H.C. Kay, London, 1892); Ibn ‛Asaqir (d. 1176) wrote a *History of Damascus and its Scholars*, which is very valuable and exists in whole or part in several libraries. The *Biographical Dictionary* of the Spaniard Ibn Pascual (d. 1182) and that of Dabbi, a somewhat junior contemporary, are edited in Codera’s *Bibliotheca Arab. Hisp.* (1883-1885); Saladin found his historian in the famous ‛Imād uddīn (d. 1201) (Arabic text, ed. C. Landberg, Leiden, 1888). Ibn ul-Jauzī, who died in the same year, has already been mentioned. Abdulwahid’s *History of the Almohades*, written in 1224, was published by Dozy (2nd ed., 1881). Abdullatif or Abdallatīf (d. 1232) is known for his writings about Egypt (trans. de Sacy, 1810); Ibn al-Athīr (d. 1233) wrote, in addition to the *Chronicle* already mentioned, a *Biographical Dictionary of Contemporaries of the Prophet*. Qifti (d. 1248) is especially known for his *History of Arabic Philologists*. Sibt ibn al-Jauzi (d. 1256), grandson of the mentioned Ibn al-Jauzī, wrote a great *Chronicle*, of which the majority still exists. Codera has edited (Madrid, 1886) Ibn al-‛Abbar’s (d. 1260) *Biographical Lexicon*, already known through Dozy’s excerpts. Ibn al-‛Adīm (d. 1262) is famous for his *History of Aleppo*, and Abu Shama (d. 1267) wrote a well-known *History of Saladin and Nureddin*, drawing heavily from ‛Imād uddīn. Ibn abī Usaibia (d. 1269) wrote a *History of Physicians*, ed. A. Müller. The *History* of Ibn al-‛Amīd (d. 1276), better known as Elmacin, was printed by Erpenius in 1625. Ibn Sa‛īd al-Maghribī (d. 1274 or 1286) is renowned for his histories, but even more for his geographical writings. The noted theologian Nawāwī (see q.v.; d. 1278) wrote a *Biographical Dictionary of the Worthies of the First Ages of Islam*. Preeminent as a biographer is Ibn Khallikān (see q.v.; d. 1282), whose widely used work was partly edited by de Slane and completely by Wüstenfeld (1835-1840), and translated into English by the former scholar (4 vols., 1843-1871).

Abu ‛l-Faraj, better known as Bar-Hebraeus (d. 1286), wrote, besides his Syriac Chronicle, an Arabic History of Dynasties (ed. E. Pocock, Oxford, 1663, Beirut, 1890). Ibn ‛Adharī’s History of Africa and Spain has been published by Dozy (2 vols., Leiden, 1848-1851), and the Qartas of Ibn abī Zar‛ by Tornberg (1843). One of the best-known of Arab writers is Abulfeda (d. 1331) (q.v.). Not less famous is the great Encyclopaedia of his contemporary Nuwairi (d. 1332), but only extracts from it have been printed. Ibn Sayyid an-Nās (d. 1334) wrote a full biography of the Prophet; Mizzī (d. 1341) an extensive work on the men from whom traditions have been derived. We still possess, nearly complete, the great Chronicle of Dhahabī (d. 1347), a very learned biographer and historian. The geographical and historical Masālik al-Absār of Ibn Fadlallāh (d. 1348) is known at present by extracts given by Quatremère and Amari. Ibn al-Wardi (d. c. 1349), best known by his Cosmography, wrote a Chronicle which has been printed in Egypt. Ṣafadī (d., 1363) got a great name as a biographer. Yafi‛ī (d. 1367) wrote a Chronicle of Islam and Lives of Saints. Subkī (d. 1369) published Lives of the Theologians of the Shafi’ite School. Of Ibn Kathīr’s History the greatest part is extant. For the history of Spain and the Maghrib the writings of Ibn al-Khatīb (d. 1374) are of acknowledged value. Another history, of which we possess the greater part, is the large work of Ibn al-Furāt (d. 1404). Far superior to all these, however, is the famous Ibn Khaldūn (q.v.) (d. 1406). Of the historical works of the famous lexicographer Fairūzabādī (q.v.) (d. 1414) only a Life of the Prophet remains. Maqrizī (d. 1442) is the subject of a separate article; Ibn Hajar (d. 1448) is best known by his Biographical Dictionary of Contemporaries of the Prophet, published in the Bibliotheca Indica. Ibn ‛Arabshāh (d. 1450) is known by his History of Timur (Leeuwarden, 1767). ‛Ainī (d. 1451) wrote a General History, still extant. Abu‛l-Mahāsin ibn Taghrībirdī (d. 1469) wrote at length on the history of Egypt; the first two parts have been published by Juynboll and Matthes, Leiden, 1855-1861. Flügel has published Ibn Kotlubogha’s Biographies of the Hanifite Jurists. Ibn Shihna (d. 1485) wrote a History of Aleppo. Of Sakhawi we possess a bibliographical work on the historians. The polymath Suyūtī (q.v.) (d. 1505) contributed a History of the Caliphs and many biographical pieces. Samhūdī’s History of Medina is known through the excerpts of Wüstenfeld (1861). Ibn Iyās (d. 1524) wrote a History of Egypt, and Diarbekri (d. 1559) a Life of Mahomet. To these names must be added Maqqari (Makkari) (q.v.) and Hajji Khalīfa (q.v.) (d. 1658). He made use of European sources, and with him Arabic historiography may be said to cease, though he had some unimportant successors.

Abu ‛l-Faraj, commonly known as Bar-Hebraeus (d. 1286), wrote, in addition to his Syriac Chronicle, an Arabic History of Dynasties (ed. E. Pocock, Oxford, 1663, Beirut, 1890). Ibn ‛Adharī’s History of Africa and Spain was published by Dozy (2 vols., Leiden, 1848-1851), and the Qartas of Ibn abī Zar‛ was edited by Tornberg (1843). One of the most well-known Arab writers is Abulfeda (d. 1331) (q.v.). Equally renowned is the great Encyclopaedia of his contemporary Nuwairi (d. 1332), though only excerpts have been printed. Ibn Sayyid an-Nās (d. 1334) wrote a complete biography of the Prophet; Mizzī (d. 1341) authored a comprehensive work on the men from whom traditions have been derived. We still have nearly complete the significant Chronicle of Dhahabī (d. 1347), a very knowledgeable biographer and historian. The geographical and historical Masālik al-Absār of Ibn Fadlallāh (d. 1348) is currently known through extracts provided by Quatremère and Amari. Ibn al-Wardi (d. c. 1349), best known for his Cosmography, wrote a Chronicle that has been published in Egypt. Ṣafadī (d. 1363) gained significant recognition as a biographer. Yafi‛ī (d. 1367) wrote a Chronicle of Islam and Lives of Saints. Subkī (d. 1369) published Lives of the Theologians of the Shafi’ite School. The majority of Ibn Kathīr’s History still exists. For the history of Spain and the Maghrib, the writings of Ibn al-Khatīb (d. 1374) are highly valued. Another major historical work we have is the large text by Ibn al-Furāt (d. 1404). However, far superior to all of these is the famous Ibn Khaldūn (q.v.) (d. 1406). Of the historical writings of the noted lexicographer Fairūzabādī (q.v.) (d. 1414), only a Life of the Prophet remains. Maqrizī (d. 1442) is the subject of a separate article; Ibn Hajar (d. 1448) is best recognized for his Biographical Dictionary of Contemporaries of the Prophet, published in the Bibliotheca Indica. Ibn ‛Arabshāh (d. 1450) is known for his History of Timur (Leeuwarden, 1767). ‛Ainī (d. 1451) wrote a General History, which still exists. Abu‛l-Mahāsin ibn Taghrībirdī (d. 1469) extensively covered the history of Egypt; the first two parts were published by Juynboll and Matthes, Leiden, 1855-1861. Flügel has released Ibn Kotlubogha’s Biographies of the Hanifite Jurists. Ibn Shihna (d. 1485) wrote a History of Aleppo. We have a bibliographical work by Sakhawi on historians. The polymath Suyūtī (q.v.) (d. 1505) contributed a History of the Caliphs and many biographical pieces. Samhūdī’s History of Medina is known through excerpts by Wüstenfeld (1861). Ibn Iyās (d. 1524) wrote a History of Egypt, and Diarbekri (d. 1559) authored a Life of Mahomet. Additionally, we should mention Maqqari (Makkari) (q.v.) and Hajji Khalīfa (q.v.) (d. 1658). He utilized European sources, and with him, Arabic historiography may be considered to conclude, although he had a few minor successors.

A word must be said of the historical romances, the beginnings of which go back to the first centuries of Islam. The interest in all that concerned Mahomet and in the allusions of the Koran to old prophets and races led many professional narrators to choose these subjects. The increasing veneration paid to the Prophet and love for the marvellous soon gave rise to fables about his childhood, his visit to heaven, &c., which have found their way even into sober histories, just as many Jewish legends told by the converted Jew Ka‛b al-Aḥbār and by Wahb ibn Monabbih, and many fables about the old princes of Yemen told by ‛Abīd, are taken as genuine history (see, however, Mas‛ūdī, iv. 88 seq.). A fresh field for romantic legend was found in the history of the 276 victories of Islam, the exploits of the first heroes of the faith, the fortunes of ‛Alī and his house. Then, too, history was often expressly forged for party ends. The people accepted all this, and so a romantic tradition sprang up side by side with the historical, and had a literature of its own, the beginnings of which must be placed as early as the 2nd century of the Flight. The oldest specimens still extant are the fables about the conquest of Spain ascribed to Ibn Ḥabīb (d. 852), and those about the conquest of Egypt and the West by Ibn ‛Abd al-Hakam (d. 871). In these truth and falsehood are mingled. But most of the extant literature of this kind is, in its present form, much more recent; e.g. the Story of the Death of Hosain by the pseudo-Abū Mikhnaf (translated by Wüstenfeld); the Conquest of Syria by Abu Ismā‛īl al-Basri (edited by Nassau Lees, Calcutta, 1854, and discussed by de Goeje, 1864); the pseudo-Waqidi (see Hamaker, De Expugnatione Memphidis et Alexandriae, Leiden, 1835); the pseudo-Ibn Qutaiba (see Dozy, Recherches); the book ascribed to A‛ṣam Kūfī, &c. Further inquiry into the origin of these works is called for, but some of them were plainly directed to stirring up fresh zeal against the Christians. In the 6th century of the Flight some of these books had gained so much authority that they were used as sources, and thus many untruths crept into accepted history.

A word must be said about historical romances, which date back to the early centuries of Islam. The interest in everything related to Muhammad and the references in the Quran to old prophets and nations led many professional storytellers to select these themes. The growing respect for the Prophet and a fascination with the miraculous quickly sparked tales about his childhood, his journey to heaven, etc., which have even appeared in serious histories, just like many Jewish legends recounted by the converted Jew Kaʿb al-Aḥbār and Wahb ibn Monabbih, along with many stories about the ancient rulers of Yemen recounted by ʿAbīd, are accepted as true history (see, however, Masʿūdī, iv. 88 seq.). A new area for romantic legend was discovered in the narrative of Islam’s victories, the deeds of the first heroes of the faith, and the fortunes of ʿAlī and his family. Moreover, history was often intentionally manipulated for political purposes. The public embraced all of this, leading to a romantic tradition developing alongside historical accounts, which had its own literature starting as early as the 2nd century of the Hijra. The oldest surviving examples are the stories about the conquest of Spain attributed to Ibn Ḥabīb (d. 852), and those about the conquest of Egypt and the West by Ibn ʿAbd al-Hakam (d. 871). In these, truth and falsehood are mixed. However, most of the remaining literature of this type, in its current form, is much more recent; for example, the *Story of the Death of Hosain* by the pseudo-Abū Mikhnaf (translated by Wüstenfeld); the *Conquest of Syria* by Abu Ismāʿīl al-Basri (edited by Nassau Lees, Calcutta, 1854, and discussed by de Goeje, 1864); the pseudo-Waqidi (see Hamaker, *De Expugnatione Memphidis et Alexandriae*, Leiden, 1835); the pseudo-Ibn Qutaiba (see Dozy, *Recherches*); the book attributed to Aʿṣam Kūfī, etc. Further investigation into the origins of these works is needed, but some of them were clearly aimed at inciting renewed fervor against Christians. By the 6th century of the Hijra, some of these books had gained enough credibility that they were utilized as sources, allowing many falsehoods to enter accepted history.

(M. J. de G.; G. W. T.)

Geography.—The writing of geographical books naturally began with the description of the Moslem world, and that for practical purposes. Ibn Khordādhbeh, in the middle of the 9th century, wrote a Book of Roads and Provinces to give an account of the highways, the posting-stations and the revenues of the provinces. In the same century Ya‛qūbī wrote his Book of Countries, describing specially the great cities of the empire. A similar work describing the provinces in some detail was that of Qudāma or Kodāma (d. 922). Hamdāni (q.v.) was led to write his great geography of Arabia by his love for the ancient history of his land. Muqaddasi (Mokaddasi) at the end of the 10th century was one of the early travellers whose works were founded on their own observation. The study of Ptolemy’s geography led to a wider outlook, and the writing of works on geography (q.v.) in general. A third class of Arabian geographical works were those written to explain the names of places which occur in the older poets. Such books were written by Bakrī (q.v.) and Yāqūt (q.v.)9

Geography.—The creation of geographical books naturally started with describing the Muslim world, mainly for practical reasons. Ibn Khordādhbeh wrote a Book of Roads and Provinces in the mid-9th century to provide details about highways, rest stops, and provincial revenues. In the same century, Ya‛qūbī authored his Book of Countries, focusing on the major cities of the empire. Another similar work detailing the provinces was produced by Qudāma or Kodāma (d. 922). Hamdāni (q.v.) was inspired to write his extensive geography of Arabia due to his passion for the ancient history of his region. At the end of the 10th century, Muqaddasi (Mokaddasi) was one of the early travelers whose writings were based on personal observations. The study of Ptolemy’s geography encouraged a broader perspective and the writing of geographical works in general (q.v.). A third category of Arabian geographical writings aimed to clarify the place names found in earlier poetry. Such works were authored by Bakrī (q.v.) and Yāqūt (q.v.)9

Grammar and Lexicography.—Arab tradition ascribes the first grammatical treatment of the language to Abū-l-Aswad ud-Du‛alī (latter half of the 7th century), but the certain beginnings of Arabic grammar are found a hundred years later. The Arabs from early times have always been proud of their language, but its systematic study seems to have arisen from contact with Persian and from the respect for the language of the Koran. In Irāk the two towns of Basra and Kufa produced two rival schools of philologists. Bagdad soon had one of its own (cf. G. Flügel’s Die grammatischen Schulen der Araber, Leipzig, 1862). Khalīl ibn Aḥmad (718-791), an Arab from Omān, of the school of Basra, was the first to enunciate the laws of Arabic metre and the first to write a dictionary. His pupil Sibawaihi (q.v.), a Persian, wrote the grammar known simply as The Book, which is generally regarded in the East as authoritative and almost above criticism. Other members of the school of Basra were Abu ‛Ubaida (q.v.), Asma‛ī (q.v.), Mubarrad (q.v.) and Ibn Duraid (q.v.). The school of Kufa claimed to pay more attention to the living language (spoken among the Bedouins) than to written laws of grammar. Among its teachers were Kisā‛ī, the tutor of Harūn al-Rashīd’s sons, Ibn A‛rābi, Ibn as-Sikkīt (d. 857) and Ibn ul-Anbāri (885-939). In the fourth century of Islam the two schools of Kūfa and Basra declined in importance before the increasing power of Bagdad, where Ibn Qutaiba, Ibn Jinnī (941-1002) and others carried on the work, but without the former rivalry of the older schools. Persia from the beginning of the 10th century produced some outstanding students of Arabic. Hamadhāni (d. 932) wrote a book of synonyms (ed. L. Cheikho, Beirut, 1885). Jauharī (q.v.) wrote his great dictionary the Sahāh. Tha‛ālibi (q.v.) and Jurjānī (q.v.) were almost contemporary, and a little later came Zamakhsharī (q.v.), whose philological works are almost as famous as his commentary on the Koran. The most important dictionaries of Arabic are late in origin. The immense work, Lisān ul Arab (ed. 20 vols, Būlāq, 1883-1889), was compiled by Ibn Manzūr (1232-1311), the Qāmūs by Fairūzābādī, the Taj ul‛Arūs (ed. 10 vols., Būlāq, 1890), founded on the Qāmūs, by Murtadā uz-Zabīdī (1732-1790).

Grammar and Lexicography.—Arab tradition credits Abū-l-Aswad ud-Du‛alī (the latter half of the 7th century) with the first grammatical analysis of the language, but the real development of Arabic grammar took place about a hundred years later. The Arabs have always taken pride in their language, but systematic study seems to have started due to interaction with Persian and admiration for the language of the Koran. In Irāk, the two cities of Basra and Kufa developed rival schools of linguists. Soon, Bagdad established its own (cf. G. Flügel’s Die grammatischen Schulen der Araber, Leipzig, 1862). Khalīl ibn Aḥmad (718-791), an Arab from Oman and a member of the Basra school, was the first to outline the rules of Arabic meter and the first to create a dictionary. His student, Sibawaihi (q.v.), who was Persian, wrote the grammar simply known as The Book, which is widely considered authoritative in the East and nearly beyond criticism. Other notable figures from the Basra school included Abu ‛Ubaida (q.v.), Asma‛ī (q.v.), Mubarrad (q.v.), and Ibn Duraid (q.v.). The Kufa school focused more on the spoken language (used by the Bedouins) rather than on written grammar rules. Its notable teachers were Kisā‛ī, who taught Harūn al-Rashīd’s sons, Ibn A‛rābi, Ibn as-Sikkīt (d. 857), and Ibn ul-Anbāri (885-939). By the fourth century of Islam, the importance of the Kufan and Basran schools waned as Bagdad grew more powerful, where Ibn Qutaiba, Ibn Jinnī (941-1002), and others continued the work without the previous rivalry of the earlier schools. From the early 10th century, Persia produced several distinguished Arabic scholars. Hamadhāni (d. 932) authored a thesaurus (ed. L. Cheikho, Beirut, 1885). Jauharī (q.v.) wrote his major dictionary, the Sahāh. Tha‛ālibi (q.v.) and Jurjānī (q.v.) were nearly contemporaneous, followed shortly after by Zamakhsharī (q.v.), whose linguistic works are nearly as renowned as his commentary on the Koran. The most significant Arabic dictionaries were developed later. The extensive work, Lisān ul Arab (ed. 20 vols, Būlāq, 1883-1889), was put together by Ibn Manzūr (1232-1311), the Qāmūs by Fairūzābādī, and the Taj ul‛Arūs (ed. 10 vols., Būlāq, 1890), based on the Qāmūs, by Murtadā uz-Zabīdī (1732-1790).

Scientific Literature.—The literature of the various sciences is dealt with elsewhere. It is enough here to mention that such existed, and that it was not indigenous. It was in the early Abbasid period that the scientific works of Greece were translated into Arabic, often through the Syriac, and at the same time the influence of Sanskrit works made itself felt. Astronomy seems in this way to have come chiefly from India. The study of mathematics learned from Greece and India was developed by Arabian writers, who in turn became the teachers of Europe in the 16th century. Medical literature was indebted for its origin to the works of Galen and the medical school of Gondesapur. Many of the Arabian philosophers were also physicians and wrote on medicine. Chemistry proper was not understood, but Arabian writings on alchemy led Europe to it later. So also the literature of the animal world (cf. Damīrī) is not zoological but legendary, and the works on minerals are practical and not scientific. See Arabian Philosophy and historical sections of such scientific articles as Astronomy, &c.

Scientific Literature.—The literature in various sciences is covered elsewhere. It's enough to mention here that it existed and wasn't homegrown. During the early Abbasid period, the scientific works of Greece were translated into Arabic, often through Syriac, and around the same time, the influence of Sanskrit writings was also felt. Astronomy, in particular, seems to have come mainly from India. The study of mathematics, learned from Greece and India, was expanded upon by Arabian scholars, who later became teachers for Europe in the 16th century. Medical literature owes its beginnings to the works of Galen and the medical school of Gondesapur. Many Arabian philosophers were also doctors and wrote about medicine. Chemistry, in the modern sense, wasn't fully understood, but Arabian writings on alchemy eventually paved the way for it in Europe. The literature on animals (cf. Damīrī) is not zoological but rather legendary, and the writings on minerals are practical instead of scientific. See Arabian Philosophy and historical sections of such scientific articles as Astronomy, & c.

(G. W. T.)

1 For the general history of the succeeding period see Caliphate; Egypt: History, § “Mahommedan.”

1 For the overall history of the following period, see Caliphate; Egypt: History, § “Muslim.”

2 For further details of this period, see Egypt: History, “Mahommedan Period,” § 8.

2 For more information about this period, check out Egypt: History, “Muslim Period,” § 8.

3 On the subject of transmission cf. Th. Nöldeke’s Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Poesie der alten Araber (Hanover, 1804); and W. Ahlwardt’s Bemerkungen über die Aechtheit der alten arabischen Gedickte (Greifswald, 1872).

3 Regarding transmission, see Th. Nöldeke’s Contributions to the Knowledge of the Poetry of the Old Arabs (Hanover, 1804); and W. Ahlwardt’s Remarks on the Authenticity of Old Arabic Poetry (Greifswald, 1872).

4 For details see the introduction to Nöldeke’s translation of Tabari’s Geschichte der Perser und Araber zur Zeit der Sasaniden (Leiden, 1879).

4 For details, see the introduction to Nöldeke’s translation of Tabari’s History of the Persians and Arabs during the Time of the Sassanids (Leiden, 1879).

5 Published in excerpt by Wüstenfeld along with Azraqi (Leipzig, 1857-1859).

5 Published in excerpt by Wüstenfeld together with Azraqi (Leipzig, 1857-1859).

6 Of this work the Gotha Library has a portion containing 290-320 A.H., of which the part about the West has been printed by Dozy in the Bayan, and the rest was published at Leiden in 1897.

6 The Gotha Library has a section of this work that includes 290-320 A.H., with the part related to the West printed by Dozy in the Bayan, and the remainder published in Leiden in 1897.

7 A fragment (198-251 A.H.) is printed in de Goeje, Fragm. Hist. Ar. (vol. ii., Leiden, 1871).

7 A fragment (198-251 A.H.) is printed in de Goeje, Fragm. Hist. Ar. (vol. ii., Leiden, 1871).

8 The first part was rendered into French by Dubeux in 1836. There is an excellent French translation by Zotenberg (1874).

8 The first part was translated into French by Dubeux in 1836. There’s a great French translation by Zotenberg (1874).

9 The chief Arabian geographical works have been edited by M.J. de Goeje in his Bibliotheca Geographorum arabicorum (Leiden, 1874 ff.).

9 The main Arabian geographical texts have been compiled by M.J. de Goeje in his Bibliotheca Geographorum arabicorum (Leiden, 1874 ff.).


ARABIAN PHILOSOPHY. What is known as “Arabian” philosophy owed to Arabia little more than its name and its language. It was a system of Greek thought, expressed in a Semitic tongue, and modified by Oriental influences, called into existence amongst the Moslem people by the patronage of their more liberal princes, and kept alive by the intrepidity and zeal of a small band of thinkers, who stood suspected and disliked in the eyes of their nation. Their chief claim to the notice of the historian of speculation comes from their warm reception of Greek philosophy when it had been banished from its original soil, and whilst western Europe was still too rude and ignorant to be its home (9th to 12th century).

ARABIAN PHILOSOPHY. WWhat is known as “Arabian” philosophy owes little to Arabia beyond its name and language. It was primarily a system of Greek thought, expressed in a Semitic language and influenced by Eastern ideas. This philosophy was brought to life among the Muslim people thanks to the support of their more progressive rulers and sustained by the courage and enthusiasm of a small group of thinkers, who were often viewed with suspicion and disfavor by their society. Their main contribution to the history of philosophy comes from their enthusiastic embrace of Greek philosophy when it had been expelled from its original context, during a time when Western Europe was still too primitive and uninformed to be its home (9th to 12th century).

In the course of that exile the traces of Semitic or Mahommedan influence gradually faded away, and the last of the line of Saracenic thinkers was a truer exponent of the one philosophy which they all professed to teach than Origin. the first. The whole movement is little else than a chapter in the history of Aristotelianism. That system of thought, after passing through the minds of those who saw it in the hazy light of an orientalized Platonism, and finding many laborious but narrow-purposed cultivators in the monastic schools of heretical Syria, was then brought into contact with the ideas and mental habits of Islam. But those in whom the two currents converged did not belong to the pure Arab race. Of the so-called Arabian philosophers of the East, al-Fārābī, Ibn-Sīnā and al-Ghazālī were natives of Khorasan, Bokhara and the outlying provinces of north-eastern Persia; whilst al-Kindī, the earliest of them, sprang from Basra, on the Persian Gulf, on the debatable ground between the Semite and the Aryan. In Spain, again, where Ibn-Bājja, Ibn-Tufail and Ibn Rushd rivalled or exceeded the fame of the Eastern schools, the Arabians of pure blood were few, and the Moorish ruling class was deeply intersected by Jewish colonies, and even by the natives of Christian Spain. Thus, alike at Bagdad and at Cordova, Arabian philosophy represents the temporary victory of exotic ideas and of subject races over the theological one-sidedness of Islam, and the illiterate simplicity of the early Saracens.

During that exile, the traces of Semitic or Islamic influence gradually disappeared, and the last of the line of Saracenic thinkers was a more accurate representative of the single philosophy they all claimed to teach than Source. the first. The entire movement is essentially a chapter in the history of Aristotelianism. That system of thought, after passing through the minds of those who viewed it through the distorted lens of an eastern-influenced Platonism and finding many diligent but narrow-minded practitioners in the monastic schools of heretical Syria, was then brought into contact with the ideas and mental habits of Islam. However, those who represented the convergence of these two influences did not belong to the pure Arab race. Of the so-called Arabian philosophers of the East, al-Fārābī, Ibn-Sīnā, and al-Ghazālī were originally from Khorasan, Bokhara, and the surrounding areas of northeastern Persia, while al-Kindī, the earliest among them, came from Basra, on the Persian Gulf, which is a disputed area between the Semites and the Aryans. In Spain, where Ibn-Bājja, Ibn-Tufail, and Ibn Rushd matched or surpassed the reputation of the Eastern schools, there were very few pure Arabians, and the Moorish ruling class was significantly influenced by Jewish communities and even by the natives of Christian Spain. Thus, both in Baghdad and in Cordova, Arabian philosophy signifies the temporary triumph of foreign ideas and subjugated races over the theological narrow-mindedness of Islam and the uneducated simplicity of the early Saracens.

Islam had, it is true, a philosophy of its own among its theologians (see Mahommedan Religion). It was with them that the Moslem theology—the science of the word (Kalām)—first came into existence. Its professors, the Mutākallimun (known in Hebrew as Medabberim, and as Loquentes in the Latin versions), may be compared with the scholastic doctors of the Catholic Church. Driven in the first instance to speculation in theology by the needs of their natural reason, they came, in after days, when Greek philosophy had been naturalized in the Caliphate, to adapt its methods and doctrines to the support of their views. They employed a quasi-philosophical method, by which, according to Maimonides, they first reflected how things ought to be in order to support, or at least not contradict, their opinions, and then, when their minds were made up with regard to this imaginary system, declared that the world was no otherwise constituted. The dogmas of creation and providence, of divine omnipotence, chiefly exercised them; and they sought to assert for God an immediate action in the making and the keeping of the world. Space they looked upon as pervaded by atoms possessing no quality or extension, and time was similarly divided into innumerable instants. Each change in the constitution of the atoms is a direct act of the Almighty. When the fire burns, or the water moistens, these terms merely express the habitual connexion which our senses perceive between one thing 277 and another. It is not the man that throws a stone who is its real mover: the supreme agent has for the moment created motion. If a living being die, it is because God has created the attribute of death; and the body remains dead, only because that attribute is unceasingly created. Thus, on the one hand, the object called the cause is denied to have any efficient power to produce the so-called effect; and, on the other hand, the regularities or laws of nature are explained to be direct interferences by the Deity. The supposed uniformity and necessity of causation is only an effect of custom, and may be at any moment rescinded. In this way, by a theory which, according to Averroes, involves the negation of science, the Moslem theologians believed that they had exalted God beyond the limits of the metaphysical and scientific conceptions of law, form and matter; whilst they at the same time stood aloof from the vulgar doctrines, attributing a causality to things. Thus they deemed they had left a clear ground for the possibility of miracles.

Islam had its own philosophy among its theologians (see Mahommedan Religion). This is where Muslim theology—the study of the word (Kalām)—first emerged. Its teachers, the Mutākallimun (known in Hebrew as Medabberim, and as Loquentes in Latin), can be compared to the scholastic doctors of the Catholic Church. Initially driven to think about theology by the needs of their natural reason, they later adapted Greek philosophy's methods and ideas to support their own views when it became established in the Caliphate. They used a kind of philosophical method where, according to Maimonides, they first considered how things should be to align with their beliefs, and then, once they solidified their imaginary system, they proclaimed that reality reflected that. They primarily focused on the dogmas of creation and providence and divine omnipotence, aiming to show that God had direct involvement in the creation and maintenance of the world. They viewed space as filled with atoms lacking any qualities or dimensions, and time as divided into countless moments. Each change in the atoms' state is seen as a direct act of the Almighty. When fire burns or water moistens, these terms simply express the regular connections our senses observe between things. It is not the person throwing a stone who is its true mover; rather, the supreme being has created motion at that moment. If a living being dies, it’s because God has created the condition of death; the body stays dead only because that condition is continuously created. Thus, they denied that what we call a cause has any real power to produce its effect; instead, they explained natural laws as direct interventions by God. The perceived consistency and necessity of causation is merely a result of habit and can be overturned at any time. Through this theory, which Averroes argued negates science, Muslim theologians believed they had elevated God beyond the boundaries of metaphysical and scientific concepts of law, form, and matter, while also distancing themselves from common beliefs that attribute causality to things. In this way, they thought they had created a clear space for the possibility of miracles.

But at least one point was common to the theological and the philosophical doctrine. Carrying out, it may be, the principles of the Neo-Platonists, they kept the sanctuary of the Deity securely guarded, and interposed between him and his creatures a spiritual order of potent principles, from the Intelligence, which is the first-born image of the great unity, to the Soul and Nature, which come later in the spiritual rank. Of God the philosophers said we could not tell what He is, but only what He is not. The highest point, beyond which strictly philosophical inquirers did not penetrate, was the active intellect,—a sort of soul of the world in Aristotelian garb—the principle which inspires and regulates the development of humanity, and in which lies the goal of perfection for the human spirit. In theological language the active intellect is described as an angel. The inspirations which the prophet receives by angelic messengers are compared with the irradiation of intellectual light, which the philosopher wins by contemplation of truth and increasing purity of life. But while the theologian incessantly postulated the agency of that God whose nature he deemed beyond the pale of science, the philosopher, following a purely human and natural aim, directed his efforts to the gradual elevation of his part of reason from its unformed state, and to its final union with the controlling intellect which moves and draws to itself the spirits of those who prepare themselves for its influences. The philosophers in their way, like the mystics of Persia (the Sufites) in another, tended towards a theory of the communion of man with the spiritual world, which may be considered a protest against the practical and almost prosaic definiteness of the creed of Mahomet.

But at least one thing was shared between theology and philosophy. Following the ideas of the Neo-Platonists, they kept the divine sanctuary well protected and placed a spiritual hierarchy of powerful principles between the Deity and His creations, starting with the Intelligence, the first-born image of the great unity, and extending to the Soul and Nature, which ranked lower in the spiritual hierarchy. The philosophers said we can't define what God is, only what He is not. The highest point that serious philosophical inquiry reached was the active intellect—a kind of soul of the world dressed in Aristotelian terms—the principle that inspires and guides human development and represents the ultimate goal of perfection for the human spirit. In theological terms, the active intellect is referred to as an angel. The insights that prophets receive from angelic messengers are likened to the illumination of intellectual light that philosophers achieve through contemplation of truth and a more refined way of living. However, while theologians constantly invoked the influence of God, whose nature they believed was beyond scientific understanding, philosophers, aiming for purely human and natural goals, focused on gradually elevating their reason from its raw state to achieve a final union with the guiding intellect that attracts and pulls in those who prepare themselves for its influences. The philosophers, in their way, like the Persian mystics (the Sufis) in theirs, moved towards a theory of communion between humanity and the spiritual realm, which can be seen as a challenge to the practical and almost mundane definiteness of the beliefs of Muhammad.

Arabian philosophy, at the outset of its career in the 9th century, was able without difficulty to take possession of those resources for speculative thought which the Latins had barely achieved at the close of the 12th century by the slow process of rediscovering the Aristotelian logic from the commentaries and verses of Boëtius. What the Latins painfully accomplished, owing to their fragmentary and unintelligent acquaintance with ancient philosophy, was already done for the Arabians by the scholars of Syria. In the early centuries of the Christian era, both within and without the ranks of the church, the Platonic tone and method were paramount throughout the East. Their influence was felt in the creeds which formulated the orthodox dogmas in regard to the Trinity and the Incarnation. But in its later days the Neo-Platonist school came more and more to find in Aristotle the best exponent and interpreter of the philosopher whom they thought divine. It was in this spirit that Porphyry, Themistius and Joannes Philoponus composed their commentaries on the treatises of the Peripatetic system which, modified often unconsciously by the dominant ideas of its expositors, became in the 6th and 7th centuries the philosophy of the Eastern Church. But the instrument which, in the hands of John of Damascus (Damascenus), was made subservient to theological interests, became in the hands of others a dissolvent of the doctrines which had been reduced to shape under the prevalence of the elder Platonism. Peripatetic studies became the source of heresies; and conversely, the heretical sects prosecuted the study of Aristotle with peculiar zeal. The church of the Nestorians, and that of the Monophysites, in their several schools and monasteries, carried on from the 5th to the 8th century the study of the earlier part of the Organon, with almost the same means, purposes and results as were found among the Latin schoolmen of the earlier centuries. Up to the time when the religious zeal of the emperor Zeno put a stop to the Nestorian school at Edessa, this “Athens of Syria” was active in translating and popularizing the Aristotelian logic. Their banishment from Edessa in 489 drove the Nestorian scholars to Persia, where the Sassanid rulers gave them a welcome; and there they continued their labours on the Organon. A new seminary of logic and theology sprang up at Nisibis, not far from the old locality; and at Gandisapora (or Nishapur), in the east of Persia, there arose a medical school, whence Greek medicine, and in its company Greek science and philosophy, ere long spread over the lands of Iran. Meanwhile the Monophysites had followed in the steps of the Nestorians, multiplying Syriac versions of the logical and medical science of the Greeks. Their school at Resaina is known from the name of Sergius, one of the first of these translators, in the days of Justinian; and from their monasteries at Kinnesrin (Chalcis) issued numerous versions of the introductory treatises of the Aristotelian logic. To the Isagoge of Porphyry, the Categories and the Hermeneutica of Aristotle, the labours of these Syrian schoolmen were confined. These they expounded, translated, epitomized and made the basis of their compilations, and the few who were bold enough to attempt the Analytics seem to have left their task unaccomplished.

Arabian philosophy, at the beginning of its journey in the 9th century, effortlessly accessed the resources for speculative thought that the Latins had only managed to obtain by the end of the 12th century through a slow and difficult rediscovery of Aristotelian logic from Boëtius's commentaries and verses. What the Latins struggled to achieve, due to their fragmented and superficial understanding of ancient philosophy, was already accomplished for the Arabians by scholars in Syria. In the early centuries of the Christian era, both within and outside the church, the Platonic approach and method dominated the East. Their influence was seen in the creeds that shaped orthodox beliefs about the Trinity and the Incarnation. However, over time, the Neo-Platonist school increasingly recognized Aristotle as the best interpreter of the philosopher they regarded as divine. It was in this context that Porphyry, Themistius, and Joannes Philoponus created their commentaries on the works of the Peripatetic system, which, frequently altered unknowingly by the prevailing ideas of its interpreters, became the philosophy of the Eastern Church in the 6th and 7th centuries. Nevertheless, the tool that John of Damascus (Damascenus) used for theological purposes became, in other hands, a means of questioning the doctrines shaped under older Platonism. Peripatetic studies generated heresies; in turn, the heretical groups pursued Aristotle's works with intense enthusiasm. The Nestorian and Monophysite churches, through their schools and monasteries, engaged in studying the earlier parts of the Organon from the 5th to the 8th century, with nearly the same methods, goals, and outcomes as the Latin schoolmen of earlier centuries. Until the religious fervor of Emperor Zeno shut down the Nestorian school in Edessa, this “Athens of Syria” actively translated and popularized Aristotelian logic. Their expulsion from Edessa in 489 forced Nestorian scholars to Persia, where they were welcomed by the Sassanid rulers, and they continued their efforts on the Organon there. A new center for logic and theology emerged at Nisibis, not far from the original site, and at Gandisapora (or Nishapur) in eastern Persia, a medical school developed from which Greek medicine—and, along with it, Greek science and philosophy—soon spread across the lands of Iran. Meanwhile, the Monophysites followed the Nestorians’ lead, creating numerous Syriac translations of Greek logical and medical science. Their school at Resaina is known after Sergius, one of the earliest translators during the days of Justinian, and their monasteries at Kinnesrin (Chalcis) produced many versions of introductory treatises on Aristotelian logic. The works of Porphyry’s Isagoge, Aristotle’s Categories, and the Hermeneutica were the center of focus for these Syrian scholars. They explained, translated, summarized, and built their compilations upon these, while the few who dared to tackle the Analytics seem to have left their work unfinished.

The energy of the Monophysites, however, began to sink with the rise of the Moslem empire; and when philosophy revived amongst them in the 13th century, in the person of Gregorius Bat-Hebraeus (Abulfaragius) (1226-1286), the revival was due to the example and influence of the Arabian thinkers. It was otherwise with the Nestorians. Gaining by means of their professional skill as physicians a high rank in the society of the Moslem world, the Nestorian scholars soon made Bagdad familiar with the knowledge of Greek philosophy and science which they possessed. But the narrow limits of the Syrian studies, which added to a scanty knowledge of Aristotle some acquaintance with his Syrian commentators, were soon passed by the curiosity and zeal of the students in the Caliphate. During the 8th and 9th centuries, rough but generally faithful versions of Aristotle’s principal works were made into Syriac, and then from the Syriac into Arabic. The names of some of these translators, such as Johannitius (Hunain ibn-Ishāq), were heard even in the Latin schools. By the labours of Hunain and his family the great body of Greek science, medical, astronomical and mathematical, became accessible to the Arab-speaking races. But for the next three centuries fresh versions, both of the philosopher and of his commentators, continued to succeed each other.

The energy of the Monophysites, however, started to decline with the rise of the Muslim empire; and when philosophy experienced a resurgence among them in the 13th century, thanks to Gregorius Bat-Hebraeus (Abulfaragius) (1226-1286), this revival was influenced by Arabian thinkers. The situation was different for the Nestorians. Through their skills as physicians, they gained high status in Muslim society, and Nestorian scholars soon made Baghdad well-known for the Greek philosophy and science they brought with them. However, the limited scope of Syrian studies—which primarily added a bit of knowledge of Aristotle and some familiarity with his Syrian commentators—was soon outpaced by the curiosity and enthusiasm of students in the Caliphate. During the 8th and 9th centuries, rough but generally accurate translations of Aristotle’s main works were made into Syriac, and then from Syriac into Arabic. The names of some of these translators, like Johannitius (Hunain ibn-Ishāq), became recognized even in Latin schools. Thanks to the efforts of Hunain and his family, a large body of Greek knowledge in medicine, astronomy, and mathematics became available to Arabic-speaking populations. For the next three centuries, new translations of the philosopher and his commentators continued to emerge.

To the Arabians Aristotle represented and summed up Greek philosophy, even as Galen became to them the code of Greek medicine. They adopted the doctrine and system which the progress of human affairs had made the intellectual aliment of their Syrian guides. From first to last Arabian philosophers made no claim to originality; their aim was merely to propagate the truth of Peripateticism as it had been delivered to them. It was with them that the deification of Aristotle began; and from them the belief that in him human intelligence had reached its limit passed to the later schoolmen (see Scholasticism). The progress amongst the Arabians on this side lies in a closer adherence to their text, a nearer approach to the bare exegesis of their author, and an increasing emancipation from control by the tenets of the popular religion.

To the Arabs, Aristotle represented and summarized Greek philosophy, just as Galen became the authority on Greek medicine for them. They embraced the teachings and systems that the development of human affairs had provided as the intellectual foundation for their Syrian guides. Throughout their history, Arab philosophers never claimed originality; their goal was simply to spread the truths of Peripateticism as it had been communicated to them. It was during this period that the deification of Aristotle began, and from them originated the belief that human intelligence had reached its peak in him, which was later passed on to the scholastics (see Scholasticism). The progress among the Arabs in this regard can be seen in their closer adherence to the original texts, a more direct interpretation of their author, and an increasing freedom from the constraints of popular religious beliefs.

Secular philosophy found its first entrance amongst the Saracens in the days of the early caliphs of the Abbasid dynasty, whose ways and thoughts had been moulded by their residence in Persia amid the influences of an older Under the Caliphate. creed, and of ideas which had in the last resort sprung from the Greeks. The seat of empire had been transferred to Bagdad, on the highway of Oriental commerce; and the distant 278 Khorasan became the favourite province of the caliph. Then was inaugurated the period of Persian supremacy, during which Islam was laid open to the full current of alien ideas and culture. The incitement came, however, not from the people, but from the prince: it was in the light of court favour that the colleges of Bagdad and Nishapur first came to attract students from every quarter, from the valleys of Andalusia as well as the upland plains of Transoxiana. Mansūr, the second of the Abbasids, encouraged the appropriation of Greek science; but it was al-Ma’mūn, the son of Harūn al-Rashīd, who deserves in the Mahommedan empire the same position of royal founder and benefactor which is held by Charlemagne in the history of the Latin schools. In his reign (813-833) Aristotle was first translated into Arabic. Orthodox Moslems, however, distrusted the course on which their chief had entered, and his philosophical proclivities became one ground for doubting as to his final salvation.

Secular philosophy first emerged among the Saracens during the early days of the Abbasid dynasty's caliphs, whose ideas were shaped by their time in Persia and the influence of an older belief system, ultimately rooted in Greek thought. The heart of the empire had shifted to Baghdad, located on the major route of Eastern trade, and the far-flung Khorasan became the favored province of the caliph. This marked the beginning of a period of Persian dominance, during which Islam was exposed to a wave of foreign ideas and culture. The push for this change, however, came not from the people but from the ruler: it was through royal support that the colleges of Baghdad and Nishapur began to attract students from all over, including the valleys of Andalusia and the uplands of Transoxiana. Mansūr, the second Abbasid caliph, promoted the adoption of Greek science, but it was al-Ma’mūn, the son of Harūn al-Rashīd, who holds a place in the Islamic empire similar to that of Charlemagne in the history of Latin schools. During his reign (813-833), Aristotle was translated into Arabic for the first time. Orthodox Muslims, however, were skeptical of the direction their leader had taken, and his interest in philosophy raised doubts about his ultimate salvation.

In the eastern provinces the chief names of Arabian philosophy are those known to the Latin schoolmen as Alkindius, Aliarabius, Avicenna and Algazel, or under forms resembling these. The first of these, Alkindius (see Kindi), flourished at the court of Bagdad in the first half of the 9th century. His claims to notice at the present day rest upon a few works on medicine, theology, music and natural science. With him begins that encyclopaedic character—the simultaneous cultivation of the whole field of investigation which is reflected from Aristotle on the Arabian school. In him too is found the union of Platonism and Aristotelianism expressed in Neo-Platonic terms. Towards the close of the 10th century the presentation of an entire scheme of knowledge, beginning with logic and mathematics, and ascending through the various departments of physical inquiry to the region of religious doctrine, was accomplished by a society which had its chief seat at Basra, the native town of al-Kindi. This society—the Brothers of Purity or Sincerity (Ikhwān us Safā’i)—divided into four orders, wrought in the interests of religion no less than of science; and though its attempt to compile an encyclopaedia of existing knowledge may have been premature, it yet contributed to spread abroad a desire for further information. The proposed reconciliation between science and faith was not accomplished, because the compromise could please neither party. The fifty-one treatises of which this encyclopaedia consists are interspersed with apologues in true Oriental style, and the idea of goodness, of moral perfection, is as prominent an end in every discourse as it was in the alleged dream of al-Ma‛mūn. The materials of the work come chiefly from Aristotle, but they are conceived in a Platonizing spirit, which places as the bond of all things a universal soul of the world with its partial or fragmentary souls. Contemporary with this semi-religious and semi-philosophical society lived Alfarabius (see Farābī), who died in 950. His paraphrases of Aristotle formed the basis on which Avicenna constructed his system, and his logical treatises produced a permanent effect on the logic of the Latin scholars. He gave the tone and direction to nearly all subsequent speculations among the Arabians. His order and enumeration of the principles of being, his doctrine of the double aspect of intellect, and of the perfect beatitude which consists in the aggregation of noble minds when they are delivered from the separating barriers of individual bodies, present at least in germ the characteristic theory of Averroes. But al-Farābī was not always consistent in his views; a certain sobriety checked his speculative flights, and although holding that the true perfection of man is reached in this life by the elevation of the intellectual nature, he came towards the close to think the separate existence of intellect no better than a delusion.

In the eastern provinces, the main figures of Arabian philosophy are known to Latin scholars as Alkindius, Aliarabius, Avicenna, and Algazel, or similar names. The first, Alkindius (see Kindi), was active at the court of Bagdad in the first half of the 9th century. Today, he is recognized for a few works on medicine, theology, music, and natural science. His contributions mark the beginning of an encyclopedic approach—the simultaneous exploration of a wide range of fields influenced by Aristotle in Arabian thought. He also exemplifies the blend of Platonism and Aristotelianism expressed in Neo-Platonic terms. Towards the end of the 10th century, a collective effort to present a comprehensive knowledge system, starting with logic and mathematics and progressing through various fields of physical inquiry to religious doctrine, was undertaken by a group primarily based in Basra, al-Kindi's hometown. This group—the Brothers of Purity or Sincerity (Ikhwān us Safā’i)—was divided into four orders that worked for both religion and science; although their attempt to compile an encyclopedia of existing knowledge may have been ahead of its time, it sparked a wider interest in acquiring further knowledge. The proposed reconciliation between science and faith wasn’t achieved, as the compromise satisfied neither side. The fifty-one treatises that make up this encyclopedia are filled with fables in true Oriental style, and the idea of goodness and moral perfection is as significant in every discourse as it was in the supposed dream of al-Ma‛mūn. The material for the work mainly comes from Aristotle but is presented in a Platonizing spirit, which establishes a universal soul of the world as the bond connecting all things with its individual or partial souls. At the same time as this semi-religious and semi-philosophical society, Alfarabius (see Farābī) lived, passing away in 950. His interpretations of Aristotle laid the groundwork for Avicenna's system, and his logical writings had a lasting impact on the logic of Latin scholars. He influenced nearly all further speculation among the Arabians. His classification and listing of the principles of being, his idea of the dual aspect of intellect, and the concept of perfect happiness arising from the unity of noble minds when freed from the constraints of individual bodies express, at least in essence, the distinctive theory of Averroes. However, al-Farābī was not always consistent in his thinking; a sense of sobriety tempered his speculative ventures, and although he believed that true perfection is achieved in this life through the development of intellectual nature, by the end, he came to view the separate existence of intellect as no better than an illusion.

Unquestionably the most illustrious name amongst the Oriental Moslems was Avicenna (980-1037). His rank in the medieval world as a philosopher was far beneath his fame as a physician. Still, the logic of Albertus Avicenna. Magnus and succeeding doctors was largely indebted to him for its formulae. In logic Avicenna starts from distinguishing between the isolated concept and the judgment or assertion; from which two primitive elements of knowledge there is artificially generated a complete and scientific knowledge by the two processes of definition and syllogism. But the chief interest for the history of logic belongs to his doctrine in so far as it bears upon the nature and function of abstract ideas. The question had been suggested alike to East and West by Porphyry, and the Arabians were the first to approach the full statement of the problem. Farābī had pointed out that the universal and individual are not distinguished from each other as understanding from the senses, but that both universal and individual are in one respect intellectual, just as in another connexion they play a part in perception. He had distinguished the universal essence in its abstract nature, from the universal considered in relation to a number of singulars. These suggestions formed the basis of Avicenna’s doctrine. The essences or forms—the intelligibilia which constitute the world of real knowledge—may be looked at in themselves (metaphysically), or as embodied in the things of sense (physically), or as expressing the processes of thought (logically). The first of these three points of view deals with the form or idea as self-contained in the principles of its own being, apart from those connexions and distinctions which it receives in real (sensuous) science, and through the act of intellect. Secondly, the form may be looked at as the similarity evolved by a process of comparison, as the work of mental reflection, and in that way as essentially expressing a relation. When thus considered as the common features derived by examination from singular instances, it becomes a universal or common term strictly so called. It is intellect which first makes the abstract idea a true universal. Intellectus in formis agit universalitatem. In the third place, the form or essence may be looked upon as embodied in outward things (in singularibus propriis), and thus it is the type more or less represented by the members of a natural kind. It is the designation of these outward things which forms the “first intention” of names; and it is only at a later stage, when thought comes to observe its own modes, that names, looked upon as predicables and universals, are taken in their “second intention.” Logic deals with such second intentions. It does not consider the forms ante multiplicitatem, i.e. as eternal ideas—nor in multiplicitate, i.e. as immersed in the matter of the phenomenal world—but post multiplicitatem, i. e. as they exist in and for the intellect which has examined and compared. Logic does not come in contact with things, except as they are subject to modification by intellectual forms. In other words, universality, individuality and speciality are all equally modes of our comprehension or notion; their meaning consists in their setting forth the relations attaching to any object of our conception. In the mind, e.g., one form may be placed in reference to a multitude of things, and as thus related will be universal. The form animal, e.g., is an abstract intelligible or metaphysical idea. When an act of thought employs it as a schema to unify several species, it acquires its logical aspect (respectus) of generality; and the various living beings qualified to have the name animal applied to them constitute the natural class or kind. Avicenna’s view of the universal may be compared with that of Abelard, which calls it “that whose nature it is to be predicated of several,” as if the generality became explicit only in the act of predication, in the sermo or proposition, and not in the abstract, unrelated form or essence. The three modes of the universal before things, in things, and after things, spring from Arabian influence, but depart somewhat from his standpoint.

Unquestionably, the most renowned name among the Oriental Muslims was Avicenna (980-1037). In the medieval world, he was more famous as a physician than as a philosopher. Still, the logic used by Albertus Magnus and later scholars heavily relied on his formulas. In logic, Avicenna differentiates between an isolated concept and a judgment or assertion; these two basic elements of knowledge create a complete and scientific understanding through the processes of definition and syllogism. However, the main interest for the history of logic lies in his theories, particularly concerning abstract ideas. This question had been raised by Porphyry in both the East and West, and the Arabs were the first to fully articulate the problem. Farābī noted that universals and individuals aren’t separated as understanding from senses; instead, both universals and individuals are intellectual in one respect, while they also play roles in perception in another context. He distinguished the universal essence in its abstract form from the universal as it relates to specific individuals. These insights formed the foundation of Avicenna’s teachings. The essences or forms—the intelligibilia that make up the world of genuine knowledge—can be examined in three ways: metaphysically, as they exist in themselves; physically, as they are embodied in sensory things; or logically, as they represent the processes of thought. The first perspective views the form or idea as self-contained in its own principles of existence, separate from the connections and distinctions found in actual (sensory) science and through intellectual activity. Secondly, the form can be seen as a similarity developed through comparison, a product of mental reflection, thus expressing a relationship. When considered this way, it identifies common features drawn from specific cases, becoming what we strictly call a universal or common term. It is the intellect that transforms the abstract idea into a true universal. Intellectus in formis agit universalitatem. Lastly, the form or essence can be seen as embodied in specific outward things, representing types found in a natural category. The names of these outward things form the “first intention” of terms; it is only later, when thought reflects on its own processes, that terms—as entities that can be predicated and universals—are regarded in their “second intention.” Logic deals with these second intentions. It doesn’t examine forms ante multiplicitatem, i.e., as eternal ideas—nor in multiplicitate, i.e., as immersed in the material world—but post multiplicitatem, i.e., as they exist for the intellect that has analyzed and compared them. Logic only interacts with things through their modification by intellectual forms. In other words, universality, individuality, and specificity are all modes of our understanding; their significance lies in how they express relationships related to any object of our conception. In the mind, for instance, one form can reference many things, and thus related, it will be universal. The form “animal,” for example, is an abstract, intelligible, or metaphysical idea. When an act of thought uses it as a framework to unify various species, it gains its logical aspect (respectus) of generality; the different living beings eligible to be called “animal” make up the natural class or kind. Avicenna's perspective on the universal can be compared to Abelard's, which describes it as “that which is predicated of several,” suggesting that generality becomes explicit only in the act of predication, in the sermo or proposition, rather than in the abstract, unrelated form or essence. The three modes of the universal before things, in things, and after things are influenced by Arabian thought but diverge somewhat from his viewpoint.

The place of Avicenna amongst Moslem philosophers is seen in the fact that Shahrastānī takes him as the type of all, and that Ghazālī’s attack against philosophy is in reality almost entirely directed against Avicenna. His system is in the main a codification of Aristotle modified by fundamental views of Neo-Platonist origin, and it tends to be a compromise with theology. In order, for example, to maintain the necessity of creation, he taught that all things except God were admissible or possible in their own nature, but that certain of them were rendered necessary by the act of the creative first agent,—in other words, that the possible could be transformed into the necessary. Avicenna’s 279 theory of the process of knowledge is an interesting part of his doctrine. Man has a rational soul, one face of which is turned towards the body, and, by the help of the higher aspect, acts as practical understanding; the other face lies open to the reception and acquisition of the intelligible forms, and its aim is to become a reasonable world, reproducing the forms of the universe and their intelligible order. In man there is only the susceptibility to reason, which is sustained and helped by the light of the active intellect. Man may prepare himself for this influx by removing the obstacles which prevent the union of the intellect with the human vessel destined for its reception. The stages of this process to the acquisition of mind are generally enumerated by Avicenna as four; in this part he follows not Aristotle, but the Greek commentator. The first stage is that of the hylic or material intellect, a state of mere potentiality, like that of a child for writing, before he has ever put pen to paper. The second stage is called in habitu; it is compared to the case of a child that has learned the elements of writing, when the bare possibility is on the way to be developed, and is seen to be real. In this period of half-trained reason, it appears as happy conjecture, not yet transformed into art or science proper. When the power of writing has been actualized, we have a parallel to the intellectus in actu—the way of science and demonstration is entered. And when writing has been made a permanent accomplishment, or lasting property of the subject, to be taken up at will, it corresponds to the intellectus adeptus—the complete mastery of science. The whole process may be compared to the gradual illumination of a body naturally capable of receiving light. There are, however, grades of susceptibility to the active intellect, i.e. in theological language, to communication with God and his angels. Sometimes the receptivity is so vigorous in its affinity, that without teaching it rises at one step to the vision of truth, by a certain “holy force” above ordinary measure. (In this way philosophy tried to account for the phenomenon of prophecy, one of the ruling ideas of Islam.) But the active intellect is not merely influential on human souls. It is the universal giver of forms in the world.

Avicenna holds a prominent position among Muslim philosophers, as seen in the way Shahrastānī considers him the representative figure of all, and Ghazālī's critique of philosophy largely targets Avicenna. His system primarily consolidates Aristotle's ideas, adjusted by key Neo-Platonist concepts, and seeks to find common ground with theology. For instance, to support the necessity of creation, he argued that everything besides God is inherently possible, but some of these possibilities become necessary through the action of the creative first agent—in other words, that the possible can be turned into the necessary. Avicenna’s theory of knowledge is a fascinating aspect of his philosophy. Humans possess a rational soul, one part oriented towards the body, which, through its higher aspect, functions as practical understanding; the other part is open to receiving and acquiring intelligible forms, striving to mirror a rational world by reproducing the universe’s forms and their intelligible order. Within humans exists merely the capacity for reason, which is sustained and supported by the light of the active intellect. People can prepare themselves for this influx by eliminating barriers that hinder the connection between the intellect and the human vessel meant for its reception. Avicenna generally outlines four stages in this process of acquiring knowledge, aligning more with the Greek commentator than with Aristotle. The first stage is the hylic or material intellect, a state of pure potentiality, like a child’s readiness to write before ever touching a pen to paper. The second stage is called in habitu; it resembles a child who has learned the basics of writing, where the mere possibility begins to develop into something real. During this period of partially trained reasoning, it appears as hopeful intuition, not yet evolved into true art or science. Once the skill of writing is realized, it parallels the intellectus in actu—marking the entry into the realms of science and demonstration. When writing becomes a consistent skill, a lasting attribute that can be accessed at will, it corresponds to the intellectus adeptus—the complete mastery of knowledge. This entire process can be likened to the gradual illumination of a body that is naturally capable of receiving light. Nonetheless, there are varying degrees of receptivity to the active intellect, or in theological terms, to communication with God and his angels. At times, receptivity can be so intense that, without any teaching, it leaps directly to the vision of truth by a certain “holy force” beyond the ordinary. (This interpretation attempts to explain the phenomenon of prophecy, which is a central tenet of Islam.) However, the active intellect doesn't only influence human souls; it universally provides forms in the world.

In several points Avicenna endeavoured to give a rationale of theological dogmas, particularly of prophetic rule, of miracles, divine providence and immortality. The permanence of individual souls he supports by arguments borrowed from those of Plato. The existence of a prophet is shown to be a corollary from a belief in God as a moral governor, and the phenomena of miracles are required to evidence the genuineness of the prophetic mission. Thus Avicenna, like his predecessors, tried to harmonize the abstract forms of philosphy with the religious faith of his nation. But his arguments are generally vitiated by the fallacy of assuming what they profess to prove. His failure is made obvious by the attack of Ghazali on the tendencies and results of speculation.

In several ways, Avicenna tried to provide a rationale for theological beliefs, especially regarding prophetic authority, miracles, divine providence, and immortality. He supports the idea of the permanence of individual souls using arguments drawn from Plato. The existence of a prophet is demonstrated as a natural consequence of believing in God as a moral ruler, and miracles are necessary to prove the authenticity of the prophetic mission. Thus, like his predecessors, Avicenna sought to reconcile the abstract concepts of philosophy with the religious beliefs of his culture. However, his arguments are often undermined by the fallacy of assuming what they aim to prove. His shortcomings are clearly highlighted by Ghazali’s critique of the tendencies and consequences of speculative thought.

To Ghazālī (q.v.) it seemed that the study of secular philosophy had resulted in a general indifference to religion, and that the scepticism which concealed itself under a pretence of piety was destroying the life and purity of the nation. Ghazālī. With these views he carried into the fields of philosophy the aims and spirit of the Moslem theologian. His restless life was the reflex of a mental history disturbed by prolonged agitation. Revolting, in the height of his success, against the current creed, he began to examine the foundations of knowledge. The senses are contradicted by one another, and disproved by reason. Reason, indeed, professes to furnish us with necessary truths; but what assurance have we that the verdicts of reason may not be reversed by some higher authority? Ghazālī then interrogated all the sects in succession to learn their criterion of truth. He first applied to the theological schoolmen, who grounded their religion on reason; but their aim was only to preserve the faith from heresy. He turned to the philosophers, and examined the accepted Aristotelianism in a treatise which has come down to us—The Destruction of the Philosophers. He assails them on twenty points of their mixed physical and metaphysical peripateticism, from the statement of which, in spite of his pretended scepticism, we can deduce some very positive metaphysical opinions of his own. He claims to have shown that the dogmas of the eternity of matter and the permanence of the world are false; that their description of the Deity as the demiurgos is unspiritual; that they fail to prove the existence, the unity, the simplicity, the incorporeality or the knowledge (both of species and accidents) of God; that their ascription of souls to the celestial spheres is unproved; that their theory of causation, which attributes effects to the very natures of the causes, is false, for that all actions and events are to be ascribed to the Deity; and, finally, that they cannot establish the spirituality of the soul, nor prove its mortality. These criticisms disclose nothing like a sceptical state of mind, but rather a reversion from the metaphysical to the theological stage of thought. He denies the intrinsic tendencies, or souls, by which the Aristotelians explained the motion of the spheres, because he ascribes their motion to God. The sceptic would have denied both. G.H. Lewes censures Renan for asserting of Ghazālī’s theory of causation—“Hume n’a rien dit plus.” It is true that Ghazālī maintains that the natural law according to which effects proceed inevitably from their causes is only custom, and that there is no necessary connexion between them. But while Hume absolutely denies the necessity, Ghazālī merely removes it one stage farther back, and plants it in the mind of the Deity. This, of course, is not metaphysics, but theology. Having, as he believed, refuted the opinions of the philosophers, he next investigated the pretensions of the Allegorists, who derived their doctrines from an imam. These Arabian ultramontanes had no word for the doubter. They could not, he says, even understand the problems they sought to resolve by the assumption of infallibility, and he turned again, in his despair, to the instructors of his youth—the Sūfīs. In their mystical intuition of the laws of life, and absorption in the immanent Deity, he at last found peace. This shows the true character of the treatise which, alike in medieval and modern times, has been quoted as containing an exposition of his opinions. The work called The Tendencies of the Philosophers, translated in 1506, with the title Logica et Philosophia Algazelis Arabis, contains neither the logic nor the philosophy of Ghazālī. It is a mere abstract or statement of the Peripatetic systems, and was made preliminary to that Destruction of which we have already spoken.

To Ghazālī (q.v.), it appeared that studying secular philosophy led to a widespread indifference towards religion, and that the skepticism masquerading as piety was damaging the integrity and purity of the nation. Ghazali. With these beliefs, he brought the goals and mindset of a Muslim theologian into the realm of philosophy. His restless life reflected a troubled mental history marked by ongoing turmoil. In the peak of his success, he rebelled against the prevailing faith and began to scrutinize the foundations of knowledge. The senses contradict each other and are undermined by reason. Reason claims to provide us with necessary truths, but what guarantee do we have that reason's conclusions won't be overturned by some higher authority? Ghazālī then questioned all the sects one by one to discover their standards of truth. He started with the theological scholars, who based their religion on reason, but their goal was solely to protect the faith from heresy. He then turned to the philosophers and analyzed the accepted Aristotelian views in a treatise that has survived—The Destruction of the Philosophers. He criticizes them on twenty points of their mixed physical and metaphysical arguments, from which, despite his claimed skepticism, we can derive some clear metaphysical opinions of his own. He argues that the doctrines of the eternity of matter and the permanence of the universe are false; that their portrayal of God as the demiurge lacks spirituality; that they fail to prove God's existence, unity, simplicity, incorporeality, or knowledge (both of types and individual instances); that their claim of souls in the celestial spheres is unsubstantiated; that their causation theory, which attributes effects to the very nature of causes, is incorrect, as all actions and events should be attributed to God; and finally, that they cannot demonstrate the spirituality of the soul nor prove its mortality. These criticisms reflect more of a return to theological thought rather than a skeptical mindset. He rejects the intrinsic tendencies or souls that Aristotelians used to explain the motion of the spheres, attributing their motion to God instead. The skeptic would have dismissed both. G.H. Lewes criticizes Renan for claiming that Ghazālī’s theory of causation is “Hume n’a rien dit plus.” It’s true that Ghazālī argues that the natural law by which effects necessarily follow their causes is merely a custom, with no necessary connection between them. However, whereas Hume completely denies necessity, Ghazālī simply pushes it one step further back, placing it in the mind of God. This, of course, is theology, not metaphysics. After believing he had disproven the philosophers' views, he then examined the claims of the Allegorists, who based their beliefs on an imam. These Arabian ultra-orthodox thinkers had no term for doubt. They couldn’t, he argued, even grasp the issues they attempted to resolve by claiming infallibility, which led him back, in his despair, to the teachings of his youth—the Sūfīs. In their mystical understanding of life’s laws and immersion in the presence of the Deity, he finally found peace. This illustrates the true nature of the treatise that has been cited in both medieval and modern eras as encapsulating his views. The work titled The Tendencies of the Philosophers, translated in 1506 under the name Logica et Philosophia Algazelis Arabis, contains neither the logic nor the philosophy of Ghazālī. It is merely a summary or outline of the Peripatetic systems, intended as a precursor to that Destruction we’ve already discussed.

This indictment against liberal thought from the standpoint of the theological school was afterwards answered in Spain by Averroes; but in Bagdad it heralded the extinction of the light of philosophy. Moderate and compliant with the popular religion as Alfarabius and Avicenna had always been, as compared with their Spanish successor, they had equally failed to conciliate the popular spirit, and were classed in the same category with the heretic or the member of an immoral sect. The 12th century exhibits the decay of liberal intellectual activity in the Caliphate, and the gradual ascendancy of Turkish races animated with all the intolerance of semi-barbarian proselytes to the Mahommedan faith. Philosophy, which had only sprung up when the purely Arabian influences ceased to predominate, came to an end when the sceptre of the Moslem world passed away from the dynasty of Persia. Even in 1150 Bagdad had seen a library of philosophical books burned by command of the caliph Mostanjid; and in 1192 the same place might have witnessed a strange scene, in which the books of a physician were first publicly cursed, and then committed to the flames, while their owner was incarcerated. Thus, while the Latin church showed a marvellous receptivity for ethnic philosophy, and assimilated doctrines which it had at an earlier date declared impious, in Islam the theological system entrenched itself towards the end of the 12th century in the narrow orthodoxy of the Asharites, and reduced the votaries of Greek philosophy to silence.

This critique of liberal thought from the perspective of the theological school was later challenged in Spain by Averroes; however, in Bagdad, it signaled the decline of philosophical thought. Both Alfarabius and Avicenna were moderate and aligned with popular religion compared to their Spanish successor, yet they too failed to resonate with the popular spirit and were categorized alongside heretics or immoral sect members. The 12th century shows a decline in liberal intellectual activity in the Caliphate and the gradual rise of Turkish groups filled with the intolerance of semi-barbarian converts to Islam. Philosophy, which emerged when purely Arabian influences began to fade, came to an end as the control of the Muslim world shifted from the Persian dynasty. Even in 1150, Bagdad witnessed a library of philosophical books being burned on the orders of Caliph Mostanjid; and in 1192, the city might have seen a bizarre event where the books of a physician were first publicly condemned and then burned, while their owner was imprisoned. Thus, while the Latin church displayed an impressive openness to ethnic philosophy and absorbed ideas it had previously deemed heretical, in Islam, the theological system solidified toward the end of the 12th century within the strict orthodoxy of the Asharites, silencing the followers of Greek philosophy.

The same phenomena were repeated in Spain under the Mahommedan rulers of Andalusia and Morocco, with this difference, that the time of philosophical development was shorter, and the heights to which Spanish thinkers In Spain. soared were greater. The reign of al-Hakam the Second (961-976) inaugurated in Andalusia those scientific and philosophical 280 studies which were simultaneously prosecuted by the Society of Basra. From Cairo, Bagdad, Damascus and Alexandria, books both old and new were procured at any price for the library of the prince; twenty-seven free schools were opened in Cordova for the education of the poor; and intelligent knowledge was perhaps more widely diffused in Mahommedan Spain than in any other part of Europe at that day. The mosques of the city were filled with crowds who listened to lectures on science and literature, law and religion. But the future glory thus promised was long postponed. The usurping successor of Hakam found it a politic step to request the most notable doctors of the sacred law to examine the royal library; and every book treating of philosophy, astronomy and other forbidden topics was condemned to the flames. But the spirit of research, fostered by the fusion of races and the social and intellectual competition thus engendered, was not crushed by these proceedings; and for the next century and more the higher minds of Spain found in Damascus and Bagdad the intellectual aliment which they desired. At last, towards the close of the 11th century, the long-pent spiritual energies of Mahommedan Spain burst forth in a brief series of illustrious men. Whilst the native Spaniards were narrowing the limits of the Moorish kingdoms, and whilst the generally fanatical dynasty of the Almohades might have been expected to repress speculation, the century preceding the close of Mahommedan sway saw philosophy cultivated by Avempace, Abubacer and Averroes. Even amongst the Almohades there were princes, such as Yusūf (who began his reign in 1163) and Yaqūb Almansūr (who succeeded in 1184), who welcomed the philosopher at their courts and treated him as an intellectual compeer. But about 1195 the old distrust of philosophy revived; the philosophers were banished in disgrace; works on philosophical topics were ordered to be confiscated and burned; and the son of Almansūr condemned a certain Ibn-Habīb to death for the crime of philosophizing.

The same events occurred in Spain under the Muslim rulers of Andalusia and Morocco, with the key difference being that the period of philosophical growth was shorter, and the achievements of Spanish thinkers were greater. The reign of al-Hakam II (961-976) marked the beginning of scientific and philosophical studies in Andalusia, which were also being pursued by the Society of Basra. Books, both old and new, were gathered at any cost for the prince's library from Cairo, Baghdad, Damascus, and Alexandria; twenty-seven free schools were established in Cordova to educate the poor; and knowledge was perhaps more widely spread in Muslim Spain than in any other part of Europe at that time. The mosques of the city were filled with crowds attending lectures on science, literature, law, and religion. However, the anticipated future glory was delayed for a long time. The usurping successor of Hakam strategically asked prominent legal scholars to review the royal library, and every book on philosophy, astronomy, and other forbidden subjects was condemned to be burned. Yet, the spirit of inquiry, nurtured by the blending of cultures and the resulting social and intellectual competition, was not extinguished by these actions; for the next century and beyond, Spain's intellectuals sought knowledge in Damascus and Baghdad. Finally, towards the end of the 11th century, the long-held spiritual energies of Muslim Spain emerged briefly through a series of notable figures. While the native Spaniards were limiting the Moorish kingdoms and while the generally fanatical Almohad dynasty could be expected to suppress inquiry, the century leading up to the end of Muslim rule saw philosophy being practiced by Avempace, Abubacer, and Averroes. Even among the Almohads, there were princes like Yusūf (who began his reign in 1163) and Yaqūb Almansūr (who succeeded in 1184), who welcomed philosophers at their courts and treated them as intellectual equals. However, around 1195, the old distrust of philosophy resurfaced; philosophers were disgracefully exiled; works on philosophical topics were ordered to be confiscated and burned; and Almansūr's son sentenced a certain Ibn-Habīb to death for the crime of philosophizing.

Arabian speculation in Spain was heralded by Avicebron or Ibn Gabirol (q.v.), a Jewish philosopher (1021-1058). About a generation later the rank of Moslem thinkers was introduced by Abū-Bakr Muhammad ibn Yahya, Avempace. surnamed Ibn-Bājja, and known to the Latin world as Avempace. He was born at Saragossa, and died comparatively young at Fez in 1138. Besides commenting on various physical treatises of Aristotle’s, he wrote some philosophical essays, notably one on the Republic or Régime of the Solitary, understanding by that the organized system of rules, by obedience to which the individual may rise from the mere life of the senses to the perception of pure intelligible principles and may participate in the divine thought which sustains the world. These rules for the individual are but the image or reflex of the political organization of the perfect or ideal state; and the man who strives to lead this life is called the solitary, not because he withdraws from society, but because, while in it, he guides himself by reference to a higher state, an ideal society. Avempace does not develop at any length this curious Platonic idea of the perfect state. His object is to discover the highest end of human life, and with this view he classifies the various activities of the human soul, rejects such as are material or animal, and then analyses the various spiritual forms to which the activities may be directed. He points out the graduated scale of such forms, through which the soul may rise, and shows that none are final or complete in themselves, except the pure intelligible forms, the ideas of ideas. These the intellect can grasp, and in so doing it becomes what he calls intellectus acquisitus, and is in a measure divine. This self-consciousness of pure reason is the highest object of human activity, and is to be attained by the speculative method. The intellect has in itself power to know ultimate truth and intelligence, and does not require a mystical illumination as Ghazālī taught. Avempace’s principles, it is clear, lead directly to the Averroistic doctrine of the unity of intellect, but the obscurity and incompleteness of the Regime do not permit us to judge how far he anticipated the later thinker. (See Munk, Mélanges de phil. juive et arabe, pp. 383-410.)

Arabian thought in Spain began with Avicebron or Ibn Gabirol (q.v.), a Jewish philosopher (1021-1058). About a generation later, the group of Muslim thinkers was represented by Abū-Bakr Muhammad ibn Yahya, Avempace. known in the Latin world as Avempace. He was born in Saragossa and died relatively young in Fez in 1138. In addition to commenting on several of Aristotle's physical treatises, he wrote some philosophical essays, particularly one on the Republic or Régime of the Solitary, which he viewed as an organized system of rules that allows an individual to rise from mere sensory existence to an understanding of pure intelligible principles and to participate in the divine thought that supports the world. These personal rules reflect the political structure of the perfect or ideal state; and the man striving for this life is referred to as the solitary, not because he isolates himself from society, but because he guides himself by striving toward a higher state, an ideal society. Avempace does not extensively explore this intriguing Platonic idea of the perfect state. His goal is to identify the highest purpose of human life, and toward that aim, he categorizes the various activities of the human soul, discarding those that are material or animalistic, and then analyzes the different spiritual forms to which these activities can be directed. He outlines a hierarchical scale of these forms, through which the soul can ascend, and indicates that none are ultimately complete on their own, except for pure intelligible forms, the ideas of ideas. The intellect can grasp these forms, becoming what he calls intellectus acquisitus, and in doing so, it achieves a degree of divinity. This self-awareness of pure reason is the highest goal of human activity and can be achieved through speculative methods. The intellect has the inherent ability to know ultimate truth and intelligence and does not need a mystical illumination as Ghazālī suggested. Clearly, Avempace’s principles lead directly to the Averroistic idea of the unity of intellect, but the obscurity and incompleteness of the Regime prevent us from assessing how far he anticipated the ideas of the later thinker. (See Munk, Mélanges de phil. juive et arabe, pp. 383-410.)

The same theme was developed by Ibn.-Ṭufail (q.v.) in his philosophical romance, called Hayy ibn-Yakdhān (the Living, Son of the Waking One), best known by Pococke’s Latin version, as the Philosophus Autodidactus. It describes the process by which an isolated truth-seeker detaches himself from his lower passions, and raises himself above the material earth and the orbs of heaven to the forms which are the source of their movement, until he arrives at a union with the supreme intellect. The experiences of the religious mystic are paralleled with the ecstatic vision in which the philosophical hermit sees a world of pure intelligences, where birth and decease are unknown. It was this theory which Averroes (1126-1198), the last and most famous of the thinkers of Moslem Spain, carried out to his doctrine of the unity of intellect.

The same theme was explored by Ibn Ṭufail (q.v.) in his philosophical story, titled Hayy ibn-Yakdhān (the Living, Son of the Waking One), which is best known through Pococke’s Latin version, called Philosophus Autodidactus. It describes how an isolated truth-seeker separates himself from his lower desires and elevates himself above the physical world and the celestial spheres to the forms that are the source of their motion, until he achieves a connection with the supreme intellect. The experiences of the religious mystic are reflected in the ecstatic vision where the philosophical hermit perceives a realm of pure intelligences, where birth and death are unknown. This theory was further developed by Averroes (1126-1198), the last and most renowned thinker of Muslim Spain, in his doctrine of the unity of intellect.

For Aristotle the reverence of Averroes was unbounded, and to expound him was his chosen task. The uncritical receptivity of his age, the defects of the Arabic versions, the emphatic theism of his creed, and the rationalizing Averroes. mysticism of some Oriental thought, may have sometimes led him astray, and given prominence to the less obvious features of Aristotelianism. But in his conception of the relation between philosophy and religion, Averroes had a light which the Latins were without. The science, falsely so called, of the several theological schools, their groundless distinctions and sophistical demonstrations, he regarded as the great source of heresy and scepticism. The allegorical interpretations and metaphysics which had been imported into religion had taken men’s minds away from the plain sense of the Koran. God had declared a truth meet for all men, which needed no intellectual superiority to understand, in a tongue which each human soul could apprehend. Accordingly, the expositors of religious metaphysics, Ghazālī included, are the enemies of true religion, because they make it a mere matter of syllogism. Averroes maintains that a return must be made to the words and teaching of the prophet; that science must not expend itself in dogmatizing on the metaphysical consequences of fragments of doctrine for popular acceptance, but must proceed to reflect upon and examine the existing things of the world. Averroes, at the same time, condemns the attempts of those who tried to give demonstrative science where the mind was not capable of more than rhetoric: they harm religion by their mere negations, destroying an old sensuous creed, but cannot build up a higher and intellectual faith.

For Aristotle, Averroes was someone he greatly admired, and explaining his ideas was his chosen mission. The uncritical acceptance of his time, the flaws in the Arabic translations, the strong theism in his beliefs, and the rationalizing mysticism of some Eastern philosophies may have sometimes led him off course, highlighting the less obvious aspects of Aristotelianism. However, Averroes had insights into the relationship between philosophy and religion that the Latins lacked. He saw the so-called science of various theological schools, with their baseless distinctions and misleading arguments, as a major source of heresy and doubt. The allegorical readings and metaphysics introduced into religion distracted people from the plain meaning of the Koran. God revealed a truth meant for everyone, needing no intellectual superiority to grasp, in a language that every soul could understand. Thus, interpreters of religious metaphysics, including Ghazālī, are enemies of true religion because they reduce it to mere logic. Averroes argues that there must be a return to the prophet's words and teachings; science should not get lost in arguing about the metaphysical implications of fragmented doctrines for popular acceptance but should focus on reflecting upon and examining the realities of the world. At the same time, Averroes criticizes those who attempt to provide demonstrative science where the mind can only manage rhetoric: they damage religion with their mere denials, dismantling an old sensory belief, but they cannot create a higher and more intellectual faith.

In this spirit Averroes does not allow the fancied needs of theological reasoning to interfere with his study of Aristotle, whom he simply interprets as a truth-seeker. The points by which he told on Europe were all implicit in Aristotle, but Averroes set in relief what the original had left obscure, and emphasized things which the Christian theologian passed by or misconceived. Thus Averroes had a double effect. He was the great interpreter of Aristotle to the later Schoolmen. On the other hand, he came to represent those aspects of Peripateticism most alien to the spirit of Christendom; and the deeply religious Moslem gave his name to the anti-sacerdotal party, to the materialists, sceptics and atheists, who defied or undermined the dominant beliefs of the church.

In this spirit, Averroes doesn't let the supposed needs of theological reasoning get in the way of his study of Aristotle, whom he simply sees as a seeker of truth. The points that influenced Europe were all inherent in Aristotle, but Averroes highlighted what the original text left unclear and emphasized aspects that Christian theologians overlooked or misunderstood. Thus, Averroes had a dual impact. He was the key interpreter of Aristotle for later scholars. On the other hand, he came to embody those elements of Peripatetic philosophy that were most foreign to the spirit of Christianity; this deeply religious Muslim became associated with the anti-clerical movement, alongside materialists, skeptics, and atheists who challenged or undermined the dominant beliefs of the church.

On three points Averroes, like other Moslem thinkers, came specially into relation, real or supposed, with the religious creed, viz. the creation of the world, the divine knowledge of particular things, and the future of the human soul.

On three points, Averroes, like other Muslim thinkers, was particularly connected, whether genuinely or seemingly, with the religious belief: the creation of the world, the divine knowledge of specific things, and the fate of the human soul.

The real grandeur of Averroes is seen in his resolute prosecution of the standpoint of science in matters of this world, and in his recognition that religion is not a branch of knowledge to be reduced to propositions and systems of dogma, but a personal and inward power, an individual truth which stands distinct from, but not contradictory to, the universalities of scientific law. In his science he followed the Greeks, and to the Schoolmen he and his compatriots rightly seemed philosophers of the ancient world. He maintained alike the claim of demonstrative science with its generalities for the few who could live in that ethereal world, and the claim of religion for all—the common life of each soul as an individual and personal consciousness. But theology, or the mixture of the two, he regarded as a source 281 of evil to both—fostering the vain belief in a hostility of philosophers to religion, and meanwhile corrupting religion by a pseudo-science.

The true greatness of Averroes is evident in his strong commitment to the principles of science regarding this world, and in his understanding that religion isn’t just a set of knowledge to be broken down into propositions and dogmas, but a personal and internal force—an individual truth that stands apart from, yet does not contradict, the universals of scientific law. In his scientific pursuits, he followed the Greeks, and to the Scholastics, he and his peers rightly appeared as philosophers of the ancient world. He upheld the validity of demonstrative science with its general principles for the few who could exist in that abstract realm, while also championing religion for everyone—the shared experience of each soul as a unique and personal awareness. However, he viewed theology, or the combination of both, as a source of harm to each—encouraging the misguided belief in a conflict between philosophers and religion, and at the same time tainting religion with a false science. 281

The latent nominalism of Aristotle only came gradually to be emphasized through the prominence which Christianity gave to the individual life, and, apart from passing notices as in Abelard, first found clear enunciation in the school of Duns Scotus. The Arabians, on the contrary, emphasized the idealist aspect which had been adopted and promoted by the Neo-Platonist commentators. Hence, to Averroes the eternity of the world finds its true expression in the eternity of God. The ceaseless movement of growth and change, which presents matter in form after form as a continual search after a finality which in time and movement is not and cannot be reached, represents only the aspect the world shows to the physicist and to the senses. In the eye of reason the full fruition of this desired finality is already and always attained; the actualization, invisible to the senses, is achieved now and ever, and is thus beyond the element of time. This transcendent or abstract being is that which the world of nature is always seeking. He is thought or intellect, the actuality, of which movement is but the fragmentary attainment in successive instants of time. Such a mind is not in the theological sense a creator, yet the onward movement is not the same as what some modern thinkers seem to mean by development. For the perfect and absolute, the consummation of movement is not generated at any point in the process; it is an ideal end, which guides the operations of nature, and does not wait upon them for its achievement. God is the unchanging essence of the movement, and therefore its eternal cause.

The hidden nominalism of Aristotle gradually became more prominent due to the emphasis Christianity placed on individual lives. Aside from a few brief mentions, like those by Abelard, it was first clearly articulated in the school of Duns Scotus. In contrast, the Arab thinkers focused on the idealist perspective promoted by Neo-Platonist commentators. For Averroes, the eternity of the world finds its proper expression in the eternity of God. The constant process of growth and change shows matter taking on different forms in an endless quest for a finality that cannot be reached within time and movement. This represents only what the world appears to the physicist and the senses. From the perspective of reason, the full realization of this desired finality is already and always achieved; the actualization, which is invisible to the senses, occurs now and forever, existing outside of time. This transcendent or abstract being is what nature constantly seeks. He is thought or intellect, the reality that movement only partially achieves at successive moments in time. Such a mind is not a creator in a theological sense, yet the progression is not the same as what some modern thinkers mean by development. The perfect and absolute culmination of movement is never produced at any point in the process; it is an ideal goal that directs the workings of nature without relying on them for its realization. God is the unchanging essence of movement and thus its eternal cause.

A special application of this relation between the prior perfect, and the imperfect, which it influences, is found in the doctrine of the connexion of the abstract (transcendent) intellect with man. This transcendent mind is sometimes connected with the moon, according to the theory of Aristotle, who assigned an imperishable matter to the sphere beyond the sublunary, and in general looked upon the celestial orbs as living and intelligent. Such an intellect, named active or productive, as being the author of the development of reason in man, is the permanent, eternal thought, which is the truth of the cosmic and physical movement. It is in man that the physical or sensible passes most evidently into the metaphysical and rational. Humanity is the chosen vessel in which the light of the intellect is revealed; and so long as mankind lasts there must always be some individuals destined to receive this light. What seems from the material point of view to be the acquisition of learning, study and a moral life, is from the higher point of view the manifestation of the transcendent intellect in the individual. The preparation of the heart and faculties gives rise to a series of grades between the original predisposition and the full acquisition of actual intellect. These grades in the main resemble those given by Avicenna. But beyond these, Averroes claims as the highest bliss of the soul a union in this life with the actual intellect. The intellect, therefore, is one and continuous in all individuals, who differ only in the degree which their illumination has attained. Such was the Averroist doctrine of the unity of intellect—the eternal and universal nature of true intellectual life. By his interpreters it was transformed into a theory of one soul common to all mankind, and when thus corrupted conflicted not unreasonably with the doctrines of a future life, common to Islam and Christendom.

A unique application of the relationship between the past perfect and the imperfect, which it affects, is found in the idea of the connection between the abstract (transcendent) intellect and humanity. This transcendent mind is sometimes linked to the moon, according to Aristotle's theory, who assigned an eternal matter to the sphere beyond the earthly realm and generally viewed the celestial bodies as living and intelligent. This intellect, referred to as active or productive because it is responsible for the development of reason in humans, is the constant, eternal thought that represents the truth of the cosmic and physical movement. Humanity is where the physical or sensible most clearly transitions into the metaphysical and rational. It is the selected vessel within which the light of intellect is revealed; as long as humanity exists, there will always be some individuals destined to receive this light. What appears, from a material standpoint, as the acquisition of knowledge, study, and a moral life, is, from a higher perspective, the manifestation of the transcendent intellect within the individual. The preparation of the heart and faculties leads to a series of stages between the original predisposition and the full attainment of actual intellect. These stages largely resemble those presented by Avicenna. However, beyond these, Averroes claims that the ultimate bliss of the soul is a union with the actual intellect in this life. Therefore, the intellect is one and continuous in all individuals, who only differ in the degree to which their illumination has progressed. This was the Averroist doctrine of the unity of intellect—the eternal and universal nature of true intellectual life. By his interpreters, it was transformed into a theory of a single soul shared by all of humanity, and when corrupted in this way, it reasonably conflicted with doctrines of an afterlife common to both Islam and Christianity.

Averroes, rejected by his Moslem countrymen, found a hearing among the Jews, to whom Maimonides had shown the free paths of Greek speculation. In the cities of Languedoc and of Provence to which they had been driven by Spanish Opponents of Averoism. fanaticism, the Jews no longer used the learned Arabic, and translations of the works of Averroes became necessary. His writings became the text-book of Levi ben Gerson at Perpignan, and of Moses of Narbonne. Meanwhile, before 1250, Averroes became accessible to the Latin Schoolmen by means of versions, accredited by the names of Michael Scot and others. William of Auvergne is the first Schoolman who criticizes the doctrines of Averroes, not, however, by name. Albertus Magnus and St Thomas devote special treatises to an examination of the Averroist theory of the unity of intellect, which they labour to confute in order to establish the orthodoxy of Aristotle. But as early as Aegidius Romanus (1247-1316). Averroes had been stamped as the patron of indifference to theological dogmas, and credited with the emancipation which was equally due to wider experience and the lessons of the Crusades. There had never been an absence of protest against the hierarchical doctrine. Berengar of Tours (11th century) had struggled in that interest, and with Abelard, in the 12th century, the revolt against authority in belief grew loud. The dialogue between a Christian, a Jew and a philosopher suggested a comparative estimate of religions, and placed the natural religion of the moral law above all positive revelations. Nihilists and naturalists, who deified logic and science at the expense of faith, were not unknown at Paris in the days of John of Salisbury. In such a critical generation the words of Averroism found willing ears, and pupils who outran their teacher. Paris became the centre of a sceptical society, which the decrees of bishops and councils, and the enthusiasm of the orthodox doctors and knights-errant of Catholicism, were powerless to extinguish. At Oxford Averroes told more as the great commentator. In the days of Roger Bacon he had become an authority. Bacon, placing him beside Aristotle and Avicenna, recommends the study of Arabic as the only way of getting the knowledge which bad versions made almost hopeless. In Duns Scotus, Averroes and Aristotle are the unequalled masters of the science of proof; and he pronounces distinctly the separation between Catholic and philosophical truth, which became the watchword of Averroism. By the 14th century Averroism was the common leaven of philosophy; John Baconthorpe is the chief of Averroists, and Walter Burley has similar tendencies.

Averroes, rejected by his Muslim countrymen, found support among the Jews, who were influenced by Maimonides in exploring Greek thought. In the cities of Languedoc and Provence, where they had fled from Spanish fanaticism, the Jews no longer spoke scholarly Arabic, making translations of Averroes' works necessary. His writings became the textbook for Levi ben Gerson in Perpignan and Moses of Narbonne. By 1250, Averroes became accessible to Latin scholars through translations attributed to figures like Michael Scot and others. William of Auvergne was the first scholar to critique Averroes' ideas without naming him directly. Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas dedicated specific works to analyzing Averroes' theory of the unity of intellect, which they aimed to refute to support Aristotelian orthodoxy. As early as Aegidius Romanus (1247-1316), Averroes had been labeled the advocate for indifference toward theological dogmas, associated with a broader experience influenced by the lessons of the Crusades. There had always been opposition to hierarchical doctrine; Berengar of Tours (11th century) fought for that cause, and in the 12th century, Abelard's revolt against authoritative belief grew louder. The dialogue between a Christian, a Jew, and a philosopher promoted a comparative assessment of religions, elevating the natural religion of moral law above all formal revelations. Nihilists and naturalists, who worshipped logic and science over faith, were present in Paris during John of Salisbury's time. In such a critical environment, Averroism found receptive audiences and students who surpassed their teacher. Paris became the hub of a skeptical society that couldn't be extinguished by the decrees of bishops and councils or by the fervor of orthodox doctors and Catholic knights-errant. At Oxford, Averroes was seen more as the great commentator. During Roger Bacon’s time, he had become a respected authority. Bacon, placing him alongside Aristotle and Avicenna, recommended studying Arabic as the only way to grasp knowledge that poor translations rendered nearly impossible. In Duns Scotus, Averroes and Aristotle were viewed as unmatched masters of the science of proof, and he clearly articulated the division between Catholic and philosophical truth, a key principle of Averroism. By the 14th century, Averroism had become a widespread influence in philosophy; John Baconthorpe was the leading Averroist, and Walter Burley exhibited similar views.

Meanwhile Averrcism had come to be regarded by the great Dominican school as the arch-enemy of the truth. When the emperor Frederick II. consulted a Moslem free-thinker on the mysteries of the faith, when the phrase or legend of the “Three Impostors” presented in its most offensive form the scientific survey of the three laws of Moses, Christ and Mahomet, and when the characteristic doctrines of Averroes were misunderstood, it soon followed that his name became the badge of the scoffer and the sceptic. What had begun with the subtle disputes of the universities of Paris, went on to the materialist teachers in the medical schools and the sceptical men of the world in the cities of northern Italy. The patricians of Venice and the lecturers of Padua made Averroism synonymous with doubt and criticism in theology, and with sarcasm against the hierarchy. Petrarch refuses to believe that any good thing can come out of Arabia, and speaks of Averroes as a mad dog barking against the church. In works of contemporary art Averroes is at one time the comrade of Mahomet and Antichrist; at another he lies with Arius and Sabellius, vanquished by the lance of St Thomas.

Meanwhile, Averroism came to be seen by the prominent Dominican school as the main enemy of the truth. When Emperor Frederick II consulted a Muslim free-thinker about the mysteries of faith, and when the phrase or legend of the “Three Impostors” presented a harsh scientific critique of the three laws of Moses, Christ, and Muhammad, misunderstandings of Averroes’ key ideas led to his name becoming associated with mockery and skepticism. What began with the subtle debates at the universities of Paris spread to the materialist teachers in medical schools and skeptical thinkers in the cities of northern Italy. The patricians of Venice and the lecturers of Padua made Averroism synonymous with doubt and criticism in theology, as well as sarcasm against the church hierarchy. Petrarch refused to believe that anything good could come from Arabia, describing Averroes as a mad dog barking at the church. In contemporary artistic works, Averroes is sometimes depicted alongside Muhammad and Antichrist, while at other times he is shown with Arius and Sabellius, defeated by the lance of St. Thomas.

It was in the universities of north Italy that Averroism finally settled, and there for three centuries it continued as a stronghold of Scholasticism to resist the efforts of revived antiquity and of advancing science. Padua The school of Padua. became the seat of Averroist Aristotelianism; and, when Padua was conquered by Venice in 1405, the printers of the republic spread abroad the teaching of the professors in the university. As early as 1300, at Padua, Petrus Aponensis, a notable expositor of medical theories, had betrayed a heterodoxy in faith; and John of Jandun, one of the pamphleteers on the side of Louis of Bavaria, was a keen follower of Averroes, whom he styles a “perfect and most glorious physicist.” Urbanus of Bologna, Paul of Venice (d. 1428), and Cajetanus de Thienis (1387-1465), established by their lectures and their discussions the authority of Averroes; and a long list of manuscripts rests in the libraries of Lombardy to witness the diligence of these writers and their successors. Even a lady of Venice, Cassandra Fedele, in 1480, gained her laurels in defence of Averroist theses.

It was in the universities of northern Italy that Averroism finally took root, and for three centuries it stood as a stronghold of Scholasticism against the revival of ancient knowledge and advancing science. Padua The University of Padua. became the center of Averroist Aristotelianism; and when Padua was taken by Venice in 1405, the printers of the republic spread the teachings of the university professors far and wide. As early as 1300, in Padua, Petrus Aponensis, a well-known commentator on medical theories, revealed a divergence in his beliefs; and John of Jandun, one of the pamphleteers supporting Louis of Bavaria, was an enthusiastic follower of Averroes, whom he called a “perfect and most glorious physicist.” Urbanus of Bologna, Paul of Venice (d. 1428), and Cajetanus de Thienis (1387-1465) established Averroes' authority through their lectures and discussions; and a long list of manuscripts exists in the libraries of Lombardy as evidence of the hard work of these writers and their successors. Even a woman from Venice, Cassandra Fedele, won acclaim in 1480 for defending Averroist ideas.

With Pietro Pomponazzi (q.v.) in 1495, a brilliant epoch began 282 for the school of Padua. Questions of permanent and present interest took the place of outworn scholastic problems. The disputants ranged themselves under the rival commentators, Alexander and Averroes; and the immortality of the soul became the battle-ground of the two parties. Pomponazzi defended the Alexandrist doctrine of the utter mortality of the soul, whilst Agostino Nifo (q.v.), the Averroist, was entrusted by Leo X. with the task of defending the Catholic doctrine. The parties seemed to have changed when Averroism thus took the side of the church; but the change was probably due to compulsion. Nifo had edited the works of Averroes (1495-1497); but his expressions gave offence to the dominant theologians, and he had to save himself by distinguishing his personal faith from his editorial capacity. Alessandro Achillini, the persistent philosophical adversary of Pomponazzi, both at Padua and subsequently at Bologna, attempted, along with other moderate but not brilliant Averroists, to accommodate their philosophical theory with the requirements of Catholicism. It was this comparatively mild Averroism, reduced to the merely explanatory activity of a commentator, which continued to be the official dogma at Padua during the 16th century. Its typical representative is Marc-Antonio Zimara (d. 1552), the author of a reconciliation between the tenets of Averroes and those of Aristotle.

With Pietro Pomponazzi (q.v.) in 1495, an exciting era began 282 for the Padua school. Questions of lasting and current interest replaced outdated scholastic issues. The debaters aligned themselves with rival commentators, Alexander and Averroes; and the immortality of the soul became the key issue for both sides. Pomponazzi defended Alexander's view of the complete mortality of the soul, while Agostino Nifo (q.v.), the Averroist, was assigned by Leo X to defend the Catholic doctrine. It seemed like the roles had switched when Averroism aligned with the Church; however, this shift was likely due to pressure. Nifo edited Averroes' works (1495-1497), but his phrasing upset the leading theologians, forcing him to separate his personal beliefs from his editorial role. Alessandro Achillini, a long-time philosophical opponent of Pomponazzi, both at Padua and later at Bologna, tried, along with other moderate but not particularly remarkable Averroists, to reconcile their philosophical views with the demands of Catholicism. This relatively mild form of Averroism, which focused on the role of a commentator, remained the official doctrine at Padua throughout the 16th century. Its main representative was Marc-Antonio Zimara (d. 1552), who authored a reconciliation between Averroes' and Aristotle's teachings.

Meanwhile, in 1497, Aristotle was for the first time expounded in Greek at Padua. Plato had long been the favourite study at Florence; and Humanists, like Erasmus, Ludovicus Vives and Nizolius, enamoured of the popular philosophy Summary. of Cicero and Quintilian, poured out the vials of their contempt on scholastic barbarism with its “impious and thrice-accursed Averroes.” The editors of Averroes complain that the popular taste had forsaken them for the Greek. Nevertheless, while Fallopius, Vesalius and Galileo were claiming attention to their discoveries, G. Zabarella, Francesco Piccolomini (1520-1604) and Cesare Cremonini (1550-1631) continued the traditions of Averroism, not without changes and additions. Cremonini, the last of them, died in 1631, after lecturing twelve years at Ferrara, and forty at Padua. The great educational value of Arabian philosophy for the later schoolmen consisted in its making them acquainted with an entire Aristotle. At the moment when it seemed as if everything had been made that could be made out of the fragments of Aristotle, and the compilations of Capella, Cassiodorus and others, and when mysticism and scepticism seemed the only resources left for the mind, the horizon of knowledge was suddenly widened by the acquisition of a complete Aristotle. Thus the mistakes inevitable in the isolated study of an imperfect Organon could not henceforth be made. The real bearing of old questions, and the meaninglessness of many disputes, were seen in the new conception of Aristotelianism given by the Metaphysics and other treatises. The former Realism and Nominalism were lifted into a higher phase by the principle of the universalizing action of intellect—Intellectus in formis agit universalitatem. The commentaries of the Arabians in this respect supplied nutriment more readily assimilated by the pupils than the pure text would have been.

Meanwhile, in 1497, Aristotle was first taught in Greek at Padua. Plato had long been the favorite subject in Florence, and Humanists like Erasmus, Ludovicus Vives, and Nizolius, captivated by the popular philosophy of Cicero and Quintilian, openly criticized the scholasticism they saw as barbaric, calling it “impious and thrice-accursed Averroes.” The editors of Averroes lamented that the popular interest had shifted to Greek texts. Nevertheless, while Fallopius, Vesalius, and Galileo were gaining attention for their discoveries, G. Zabarella, Francesco Piccolomini (1520-1604), and Cesare Cremonini (1550-1631) continued the traditions of Averroism, albeit with some changes and additions. Cremonini, the last of them, died in 1631 after teaching for twelve years at Ferrara and forty at Padua. The significant educational value of Arabian philosophy for later scholars lay in its introduction of the complete works of Aristotle. Just when it seemed everything that could be derived from the fragments of Aristotle and the compilations of Capella, Cassiodorus, and others had been explored, and mysticism and skepticism appeared to be the only remaining intellectual avenues, the acquisition of a complete Aristotle suddenly expanded the horizon of knowledge. Thus, the mistakes that were inevitable in the fragmented study of an incomplete Organon would no longer be possible. The real significance of old questions and the futility of many debates became apparent through the new understanding of Aristotelianism provided by the Metaphysics and other works. The previous Realism and Nominalism evolved into a higher phase through the principle of the intellect's universalizing action—Intellectus in formis agit universalitatem. In this context, the Arabian commentaries offered nourishment that was more easily absorbed by students than the pure text would have been.

Arabian philosophy, whilst it promoted the exegesis of Aristotle and increased his authority, was not less notable as the source of the separation between theology and philosophy. Speculation fell on irreligious paths. In many cases the heretical movement was due less to foreign example than to the indwelling tendencies of the dominant school of realism. But it is not less certain that the very considerable freedom of the Arabians from theological bias prepared the time when philosophy shook off its ecclesiastical vestments. In the hurry of first terror, the church struck Aristotle with the anathema launched against innovations in philosophy. The provincial council of Paris in 1209, which condemned Amalricus and his followers, as well as David of Dinant’s works, forbade the study of Aristotle’s Natural Philosophy and the Commentaries. In 1215 the same prohibition was repeated, specifying the Metaphysics and Physics, and the Commentaries by the Spaniard Mauritius (i.e. probably Averroes). Meanwhile Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, accepting the exegetical services of the Arabians, did their best to controvert the obnoxious doctrine of the Intellect, and to defend the orthodoxy of Aristotle against the unholy glosses of infidels. But it is doubtful whether even they kept as pure from the infection of illegitimate doctrine as they supposed. The tide meanwhile flowed in stronger and stronger. In 1270 Étienne Tempier, bishop of Paris, supported by an assembly of theologians, anathematized thirteen propositions bearing the stamp of Arabian authorship; but in 1277 the same views and others more directly offensive to Christians and theologians had to be censured again. Raymond Lully, in a dialogue with an infidel thinker, broke a lance in support of the orthodox doctrine, and carried on a crusade against the Arabians in every university; and a disciple of Thomas Aquinas drew up a list (De erroribus philosophorum) of the several delusions and errors of each of the thinkers from Kindi to Averroes. Strong in their conviction of the truth of Aristotelianism, the Arabians carried out their logical results in the theological field, and made the distinction of necessary and possible, of form and matter, the basis of conclusions in the most momentous questions. They refused to accept the doctrine of creation because it conflicted with the explanation of forms as the necessary evolution of matter. They denied the particular providence of God, because knowledge in the divine sphere did not descend to singulars. They excluded the Deity from all direct action upon the world, and substituted for a cosmic principle the active intellect,—thus holding a form of Pantheism. But all did not go the same length in their divergence from the popular creed.

Arabian philosophy, while it boosted the interpretation of Aristotle and increased his influence, was also significant for creating a divide between theology and philosophy. Speculation moved away from religious paths. In many instances, the heretical movement stemmed more from the internal tendencies of the dominant school of realism than from foreign influence. However, it’s clear that the considerable freedom of the Arabians from theological constraints set the stage for philosophy to break free from its ecclesiastical constraints. In a rush of initial panic, the church condemned Aristotle with anathemas against innovations in philosophy. The provincial council of Paris in 1209 condemned Amalricus and his followers, as well as the works of David of Dinant, and banned the study of Aristotle's Natural Philosophy and the Commentaries. In 1215, the same prohibition was reiterated, specifying the Metaphysics and Physics, along with the Commentaries by the Spanish philosopher Mauritius (most likely Averroes). Meanwhile, Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, utilizing the exegetical work of the Arabians, tried their best to counter the problematic doctrine of the Intellect and defend the orthodoxy of Aristotle against the misguided interpretations of nonbelievers. Yet, it’s uncertain if even they remained as untouched by the influence of illegitimate doctrine as they believed. The tide of opinion, meanwhile, continued to grow stronger. In 1270, Étienne Tempier, the bishop of Paris, supported by a group of theologians, condemned thirteen propositions originating from Arabian thinkers; however, in 1277, the same ideas and others even more offensive to Christians and theologians had to be publicly denounced again. Raymond Lully, in a dialogue with an unbelieving thinker, defended orthodox doctrine and waged a campaign against Arabian influence in every university; a disciple of Thomas Aquinas compiled a list (De erroribus philosophorum) of the various delusions and errors from thinkers ranging from Kindi to Averroes. Confident in the truth of Aristotelianism, the Arabians applied their logical conclusions to theological issues, making the distinction between necessary and possible, as well as form and matter, the foundation for conclusions on crucial questions. They rejected the doctrine of creation because it conflicted with their interpretation of forms as the necessary evolution of matter. They denied God's particular providence, arguing that divine knowledge didn't extend to individual events. They eliminated the Deity from any direct influence on the world and replaced it with an active intellect as a cosmic principle—thus embracing a form of Pantheism. However, not everyone strayed as far from mainstream beliefs.

The half-legendary accounts which attribute the introduction of Arabian science to Gerbert, afterwards Pope Sylvester II., to Constantinus Africanus and to Adelard of Bath, if they have any value, refer mainly to medical science and mathematics. It was not till about the middle of the 12th century that under the patronage of Raymond, archbishop of Toledo, a society of translators, with the archdeacon Dominicus Gundisalvi at their head, produced Latin versions of the Commentaries of Avicenna, and Ghazali, of the Fons Vitae of Avicebron, and of several Aristotelian treatises. The working translators were converted Jews, the best-known among them being Joannes Avendeath. With this effort began the chief translating epoch for Arabic works. Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine was first translated into Latin by Gerard of Cremona (d. 1187), to whom versions of other medical and astronomical works are due. The movement towards introducing Arabian science and philosophy into Europe, however, culminated under the patronage of the emperor Frederick II. (1212-1250). Partly from superiority to the narrowness of his age, and partly in the interest of his struggle with the Papacy, this Malleus ecclesiae Romanae drew to his court those savants whose pursuits were discouraged by the church, and especially students in the forbidden lore of the Arabians. He is said to have pensioned Jews for purposes of translation. One of the scholars to whom Frederick gave a welcome was Michael Scot, the first translator of Averroes. Scot had sojourned at Toledo about 1217, and had accomplished the versions of several astronomical and physical treatises, mainly, if we believe Roger Bacon, by the labours of a Jew named Andrew. But Bacon is apparently hypercritical in his estimate of the translators from the Arabic. Another protégé of Frederick’s was Hermann the German (Alemannus), who, between the years 1243 and 1256, translated amongst other things a paraphrase of al-Fārābī on the Rhetoric, and of Averroes on the Poetics and Ethics of Aristotle. Jewish scholars held an honourable place in transmitting the Arabian commentators to the schoolmen. It was amongst them, especially in Maimonides, that Aristotelianism found refuge after the light of philosophy was extinguished in Islam; and the Jewish family of the Ben-Tibbon were mainly instrumental in making Averroes known to southern France.

The partly legendary stories that credit Gerbert, later Pope Sylvester II, Constantinus Africanus, and Adelard of Bath with introducing Arabian science mostly pertain to medical science and mathematics. It wasn't until around the middle of the 12th century, under the patronage of Raymond, the archbishop of Toledo, that a group of translators, led by archdeacon Dominicus Gundisalvi, created Latin versions of the Commentaries by Avicenna and Ghazali, the Fons Vitae by Avicebron, and several Aristotelian texts. The main translators were converted Jews, with Joannes Avendeath being the most notable among them. This effort marked the beginning of the major translating period for Arabic works. Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine was first translated into Latin by Gerard of Cremona (d. 1187), who also translated other medical and astronomical works. The push to bring Arabian science and philosophy to Europe peaked under the patronage of Emperor Frederick II (1212-1250). Partly due to his superiority over the constraints of his time, and partly for his conflict with the Papacy, this Malleus ecclesiae Romanae attracted scholars who were discouraged by the Church, particularly those studying the forbidden works of the Arabians. It is said that he provided stipends for Jews to assist with translations. Among the scholars welcomed by Frederick was Michael Scot, the first translator of Averroes. Scot spent time in Toledo around 1217, where he completed translations of various astronomical and physical texts, mainly, according to Roger Bacon, with the help of a Jew named Andrew. However, Bacon seems to be overly critical of the Arabic translators. Another of Frederick's supporters was Hermann the German (Alemannus), who, between 1243 and 1256, translated among other works, a paraphrase of al-Fārābī on the Rhetoric, and Averroes on the Poetics and Ethics of Aristotle. Jewish scholars played an important role in passing on the Arabian commentators to the schoolmen. It was among them, particularly in Maimonides, that Aristotelianism found refuge after philosophical thought was stifled in Islam; and the Jewish family of Ben-Tibbon was instrumental in making Averroes known in southern France.

See S. Munk, Mélanges de philosophie juive et arabe (Paris, 1859); E. Renan, De Philosophia Peripatetica apud Syros (1852), and Averroës et l’Averroisme (Paris, 3rd ed., 1867); Am. Jourdain, Recherches critiques sur l’âge et l’origine des traductions latines d’Aristote (Paris, 2me ed., 1843); B. Hauréau, Philosophie scolastique 283 (Paris, 1850), tome i. p. 359; E. Vacherot, École d’Alexandrie (1846-1851), tome iii. p. 85; Schmolders, Documenta philosophiae Arabum (Bonn, 1836), and Essai sur les écoles philosophiques chez les Arabes (Paris, 1842); Shahrastani, History of Religious and Philosophical Sects, in German translation by Haarbrücker (Halle, 1850-1851); Dieterici, Streit zwischen Mensch und Thier (Berlin, 1858), and his other translations of the Encyclopaedia of the Brothers of Sincerity (1861 to 1872); T.J. de Boer, The History of Philosophy in Islam (London, 1903); K. Prantl, Geschichte der Logik (Leipzig, 1861); and the Histories of Philosophy; also the literature under the biographies of philosophers mentioned.

See S. Munk, Mélanges de philosophie juive et arabe (Paris, 1859); E. Renan, De Philosophia Peripatetica apud Syros (1852), and Averroës et l’Averroisme (Paris, 3rd ed., 1867); Am. Jourdain, Recherches critiques sur l’âge et l’origine des traductions latines d’Aristote (Paris, 2me ed., 1843); B. Hauréau, Philosophie scolastique 283 (Paris, 1850), tome i. p. 359; E. Vacherot, École d’Alexandrie (1846-1851), tome iii. p. 85; Schmolders, Documenta philosophiae Arabum (Bonn, 1836), and Essai sur les écoles philosophiques chez les Arabes (Paris, 1842); Shahrastani, History of Religious and Philosophical Sects, in German translation by Haarbrücker (Halle, 1850-1851); Dieterici, Streit zwischen Mensch und Thier (Berlin, 1858), and his other translations of the Encyclopaedia of the Brothers of Sincerity (1861 to 1872); T.J. de Boer, The History of Philosophy in Islam (London, 1903); K. Prantl, Geschichte der Logik (Leipzig, 1861); and the Histories of Philosophy; also the literature under the biographies of philosophers mentioned.

(W. W.; G. W. T.)

ARABIAN SEA (anc. Mare Erythraeum), the name applied to the portion of the Indian Ocean bounded E. by India, N. by Baluchistan and part of the southern Persian littoral, W. by Arabia, and S., approximately, by a line between Cape Guardafui, the north-east point of Somaliland, and Cape Comorin in India. It has two important branches—at the south-west the Gulf of Aden, connecting with the Red Sea through the strait of Bab-el-Mandeb; and at the north-west the Gulf of Oman, connecting with the Persian Gulf. Besides these larger ramifications, there are the Gulfs of Cambay and Kach on the Indian coast. An interest and importance belong to this sea as forming part of the chief highway between Europe and India. Its islands are few and insignificant, the chief being Sokotra, off the African, and the Laccadives, off the Indian coast.

ARABIAN SEA (formerly Mare Erythraeum), is the name given to the section of the Indian Ocean bordered to the east by India, to the north by Baluchistan and part of the southern Persian coast, to the west by Arabia, and to the south, approximately, by a line between Cape Guardafui, the northeast point of Somaliland, and Cape Comorin in India. It has two major branches: to the southwest, the Gulf of Aden, which connects to the Red Sea through the Bab-el-Mandeb strait; and to the northwest, the Gulf of Oman, which links up with the Persian Gulf. In addition to these larger branches, there are the Gulfs of Cambay and Kach along the Indian coast. This sea is significant as it forms a key route between Europe and India. Its islands are few and not very notable, with the main ones being Sokotra off the African coast and the Laccadives off the Indian coast.


ARABICI, a religious sect originating about the beginning of the 3rd century, which is mentioned by Augustine (De Haeres. c. lxxxiii.), and called also θνητοψυχίται (“mortal-souled”) by John of Damascus (De Haeres. c. xc.) The name is given to the Arabians mentioned by Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. vi. 37), whose distinctive doctrine was a form of Christian materialism, showing itself in the belief that the soul perished and was restored to life along with the body. We may compare Tatian’s view of the soul as a subtler variety of matter. According to Eusebius, they were convinced of their error by Origen, and renounced it at a council held about A.D. 246.

ARABIC, is a religious group that emerged around the start of the 3rd century, mentioned by Augustine (De Haeres. c. lxxxiii.), and also referred to as θνητοψυχίται (“mortal-souled”) by John of Damascus (De Haeres. c. xc.). The term refers to the Arabians mentioned by Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. vi. 37), whose unique belief system was a type of Christian materialism, characterized by the idea that the soul died and was revived together with the body. This can be compared to Tatian’s perspective of the soul as a finer form of matter. According to Eusebius, they were convinced of their mistake by Origen and abandoned it at a council held around A.D. 246.


ARABI PASHA (c. 1839-  ), more correctly Ahmad ‛Arābī, to which in later years he added the epithet al-Misrī, “the Egyptian,” Egyptian soldier and revolutionary leader, was born in Lower Egypt in 1839 or 1840 of a fellah family. Having entered the army as a conscript he was made an officer by Said Pasha in 1862, and was employed in the transport department in the Abyssinian campaign of 1875 under Ismail Pasha. A charge of peculation, unproved, was made against him in connexion with this expedition and he was placed on half-pay. During this time he joined a secret society formed by Ali Rubi with the object of getting rid of Turkish officers from the Egyptian army. Arabi also attended lectures at the mosque El Azhar and acquired a reputation as an orator. In 1878 he was employed by Ismail in fomenting a disturbance against the ministry of Nubar, Rivers Wilson and de Blignières, and received in payment a wife from Ismail’s harem and the command of a regiment. This increased his influence with the secret society, which, under the feeble government of Tewfik Pasha and the Dual Control, began to agitate against Europeans. In all that followed Arabi was put forward as the leader of the discontented Egyptians; he was in reality little more than the mouthpiece and puppet of abler men such as Ali Rubi and Mahmud Sami. On the 1st of February 1881 Arabi and two other Egyptian colonels, summoned before a court-martial for acts of disobedience, were rescued by their soldiers, and the khedive was forced to dismiss his then minister of war in favour of Mahmud Sami. A military demonstration on the 8th of September 1881, led by Arabi, forced the khedive to increase the numbers and pay of the army, to substitute Sherif Pasha for Riaz Pasha as prime minister, and to convene an assembly of notables. Arabi became under-secretary for war at the beginning of 1882, but continued his intrigues. The assembly of notables claimed the right of voting the budget, and thus came into conflict with the foreign controllers who had been appointed to guard the interests of the bondholders in the management of the Egyptian finances. Sherif fell in February, Mahmud Sami became prime minister, and Arabi (created a pasha) minister of war. Arabi, after a brief fall from office, acquired a dictatorial power that alarmed the British government. British and French warships went to Alexandria at the beginning of June; on the 11th of that month rioting in that city led to the sacrifice of many European lives. Order could only be restored through the intervention of Arabi, who now adopted a more distinctly anti-European attitude. His arming of the forts at Alexandria was held to constitute a menace to the British fleet. On the refusal of France to co-operate, the British fleet bombarded the forts (11th July), and a British force, under Sir Garnet Wolseley, defeated Arabi on the 13th of September at Tel-el-Kebir. Arabi fled to Cairo where he surrendered, and was tried (3rd of December) for rebellion. In accordance with an understanding made with the British representative, Lord Dufferin, Arabi pleaded guilty, and sentence of death was immediately commuted to one of banishment for life to Ceylon. The same sentence was passed on Mahmud Sami and others. After Arabi’s exile had lasted for nearly twenty years, however, the khedive Abbas II. exercised his prerogative of mercy, and in May 1901 Arabi was permitted to return to Egypt. Arabi, as has been said, was rather the figurehead than the inspirer of the movement of 1881-1882; and was probably more honest, as he was certainly less intelligent, than those whose tool, in a large measure, he was. The movement which he represented in the eye of Europe, whatever the motives of its leaders, “was in its essence a genuine revolt against misgovernment,”1 and it was a dim recognition of this fact which led Arabi to style himself “the Egyptian.”

ARABI PASHA (c. 1839-  ), more accurately Ahmad Arabi, later known as al-Misrī, “the Egyptian,” was an Egyptian soldier and revolutionary leader, born in Lower Egypt around 1839 or 1840 into a fellah family. He joined the army as a conscript and became an officer under Said Pasha in 1862. He served in the transport department during the Abyssinian campaign of 1875, working under Ismail Pasha. He was accused of embezzlement related to this expedition, though the charges were unproven, and was placed on half-pay. During this time, he joined a secret society created by Ali Rubi aimed at removing Turkish officers from the Egyptian army. Arabi also attended lectures at El Azhar mosque and gained a reputation as an orator. In 1878, he was employed by Ismail to incite unrest against the ministry of Nubar, Rivers Wilson, and de Blignières, receiving a wife from Ismail's harem and command of a regiment as payment. This boosted his influence within the secret society, which began agitating against Europeans during the weak government of Tewfik Pasha and the Dual Control. Arabi emerged as the face of the dissatisfied Egyptians, though he was mainly a figurehead and a pawn for more capable figures like Ali Rubi and Mahmud Sami. On February 1, 1881, Arabi and two other Egyptian colonels faced a court-martial for disobedience but were rescued by their soldiers, forcing the khedive to dismiss his minister of war in favor of Mahmud Sami. A military demonstration led by Arabi on September 8, 1881, pressured the khedive to increase army numbers and pay, replace Riaz Pasha with Sherif Pasha as prime minister, and convene an assembly of notables. Arabi became under-secretary for war at the start of 1882 but continued his political maneuvering. The assembly of notables asserted its right to vote on the budget, leading to tensions with the foreign controllers set up to protect the interests of bondholders in Egyptian financial management. Sherif was ousted in February, Mahmud Sami became prime minister, and Arabi (now a pasha) took on the role of minister of war. After a short stint out of office, he gained dictatorial powers that worried the British government. In early June, British and French warships arrived in Alexandria; clashes in the city on June 11 resulted in many European casualties. Order was restored only through Arabi's intervention, who then took on a more openly anti-European stance. His fortification of Alexandria's defenses was seen as a threat to the British fleet. When France refused to cooperate, the British fleet bombarded the forts on July 11, and British forces under Sir Garnet Wolseley defeated Arabi on September 13 at Tel-el-Kebir. Arabi fled to Cairo, where he surrendered and was tried for rebellion on December 3. Following an agreement with British representative Lord Dufferin, Arabi pleaded guilty, and his death sentence was quickly changed to life exile in Ceylon. The same sentence was given to Mahmud Sami and others. After nearly twenty years in exile, Khedive Abbas II. granted clemency, and in May 1901, Arabi was allowed to return to Egypt. Arabi was more of a figurehead than a true leader of the 1881-1882 movement; he was likely more honest, though certainly less intelligent, than those who primarily used him as a tool. The movement he represented, regardless of its leaders' motives, “was in its essence a genuine revolt against misgovernment,”1 and it was a faint acknowledgment of this fact that led Arabi to call himself “the Egyptian.”

See Egypt: History; also the accounts of Arabi in Khedives and Pashas, by C.F. Moberly Bell (1884); and in Lord Cromer’s Modern Egypt (1908).

See Egypt: History; also the accounts of Arabi in Khedives and Pashas, by C.F. Moberly Bell (1884); and in Lord Cromer’s Modern Egypt (1908).


1 Lord Cromer in Egypt, No. 1, 1905, p. 2.

1 Lord Cromer in Egypt, No. 1, 1905, p. 2.


ARABISTAN (formerly Khuzistan), a province of Persia, bounded on the S. by the Persian Gulf, on the W. by Turkish territory, on the N. by Luristan and on the E. by the Bakhtiari district and Fars. It has its modern name, signifying “land of the Arabs,” from the Arabs who form the bulk of the population, and is subdivided into the districts of Muhamrah, Fellahiyeh (the old Dorak), Ram Hormuz (popularly known as Ramiz), Havizeh, Shushter and Dizful. It has a population of about 200,000 and pays a yearly revenue of about £30,000. The soil is very fertile, but since the dam over the Karun at Ahvaz was swept away and the numerous canals which diverted the waters of the river for irrigation became useless, a great part of the province is uncultivated, and most of the crops and produce depend for water on rainfall and wells. The climate is hot, and in the low-lying, swampy districts very unhealthy; the prevailing winds are north-west and south-east, the former hot and dry from the arid districts west of Mesopotamia, the latter bearing much moisture from the Persian Gulf and the Indian Ocean. The principal Arab tribes are the Kab (generally known as Chaab) and Beni Lam, the former mostly settled in towns and villages and by religion Shi’ites, the latter nomads and Sunnites. The staples of food are dates and fish in the south, elsewhere the produce of the herds and flocks and rice, wheat and barley. Other products are maize, cotton, silk and indigo, and the manufactures include carpets without pile, coarse woollens, cottons and silk nettings. Dyeing is extensively carried on in Dizful where most of the indigo is grown.

ARABISTAN (previously known as Khuzestan), is a province of Persia, bordered to the south by the Persian Gulf, to the west by Turkey, to the north by Luristan, and to the east by the Bakhtiari region and Fars. Its modern name means “land of the Arabs,” reflecting the fact that Arabs make up the majority of the population. The province is divided into the districts of Muhamrah, Fellahiyeh (the former Dorak), Ram Hormuz (commonly called Ramiz), Havizeh, Shushter, and Dizful. It has a population of about 200,000 and generates an annual revenue of around £30,000. The soil is highly fertile, but after the dam on the Karun River at Ahvaz was destroyed and the canals that redirected its water for irrigation became ineffective, much of the province remains uncultivated. Most crops and produce now rely on rainfall and wells for water. The climate is hot, and the low-lying, swampy areas can be quite unhealthy; the main winds are from the northwest and southeast, with the former being hot and dry from the arid areas west of Mesopotamia and the latter carrying moisture from the Persian Gulf and the Indian Ocean. The major Arab tribes include the Kab (often referred to as Chaab) and Beni Lam, with the former primarily settled in towns and villages and identifying as Shi’ites, while the latter are nomadic and Sunni. The main food staples are dates and fish in the south, along with the products from herds and flocks, rice, wheat, and barley. Other products include maize, cotton, silk, and indigo, with significant manufacturing of pileless carpets, coarse woolens, cotton fabrics, and silk nettings. Dyeing is widely practiced in Dizful, where most of the indigo is cultivated.

Khuzistan (meaning “the land of the Khuz”) was a part of the Biblical Elam, the classical Susiana, and appears in the great inscription of Darius as Uvaja.

Khuzistan (meaning “the land of the Khuz”) was part of the Biblical Elam, the classical Susiana, and is mentioned in the great inscription of Darius as Uvaja.


ARABS, the name given to that branch of the Semitic race which from the earliest historic times inhabited the south-western portion of the Arabian peninsula. The name, to-day the collective term for the overwhelming majority of the surviving Semitic peoples, was originally restricted to the nomad tribes who ranged the north of the peninsula east of Palestine and the Syro-Arabian desert. In this narrow sense “Arab” is used in the Assyrian inscriptions, in the Old Testament and in the Minaean inscriptions. Before the Christian era it had come to include all the inhabitants of the peninsula. This, it is suggested, may have been due to the fact that the “Arabs” 284 were the chief people near the Greek and Roman colonies in Syria and Mesopotamia. Classical writers use the term both in its local and general sense. The Arabs to-day occupy, besides Arabia, a part of Mesopotamia, the western shores of the Red Sea, the eastern coast of the Persian Gulf and the north of Africa. The finest type of the race is found in south Arabia among the Ariba Arabs, among the mountaineers of Hadramut and Yemen and among the Bedouin tribes roaming over the interior of central and northern Arabia. The Arabs of the coasts and those of Mesopotamia are hybrids, showing Turkish, Negroid and Hamitic crossings. The people of Syria and Palestine are hybrids of Arab, Phoenician and Jewish descent. The theory that early Arab settlements were made on the east coast of Africa as far as Sofala south of the Zambezi, is without foundation; the earliest Arab settlement on the east coast of Africa that can be proved is Magadoxo (Mukdishu) in the 10th century, and the ruined cities of Mashonaland, once supposed to be the remains of Arab settlements, are now known to be of medieval African origin. On the East African coast-lands Arab influence is still considerable. Traces of the Arab type are met with in Asia Minor, the Caucasus, western Persia and India, while the influence of the Arab language and civilization is found in Europe (Malta and Spain), China and Central Asia.

ARABS, is the name given to that branch of the Semitic race that has inhabited the southwestern part of the Arabian Peninsula since ancient history. Today, this term collectively refers to the vast majority of surviving Semitic peoples, but it originally applied only to the nomadic tribes who roamed the northern part of the peninsula, east of Palestine and the Syro-Arabian desert. In this strict sense, "Arab" appears in Assyrian inscriptions, the Old Testament, and Minaean inscriptions. Before the Christian era, it began to encompass all the inhabitants of the peninsula. It's thought that this shift happened because the "Arabs" were the main people living near the Greek and Roman colonies in Syria and Mesopotamia. Classical writers used the term in both its local and broader meanings. Today, Arabs not only occupy Arabia but also parts of Mesopotamia, the western shores of the Red Sea, the eastern coast of the Persian Gulf, and northern Africa. The most exemplary representatives of this race are found in southern Arabia among the Ariba Arabs, among the mountain dwellers of Hadramut and Yemen, and among the Bedouin tribes wandering across central and northern Arabia. Coastal Arabs and those in Mesopotamia are often mixed, displaying Turkish, Negro, and Hamitic ancestry. The people of Syria and Palestine are hybrids of Arab, Phoenician, and Jewish descent. The idea that early Arab settlements were established on the east coast of Africa as far south as Sofala, beyond the Zambezi, has no solid evidence; the earliest confirmed Arab settlement on the eastern coast of Africa is Magadoxo (Mogadishu) in the 10th century, and the ruins in Mashonaland, once thought to be remnants of Arab settlements, are now recognized as of medieval African origin. On the East African coastline, Arab influence remains significant. Traces of the Arab type can be found in Asia Minor, the Caucasus, western Persia, and India, while the influence of the Arab language and civilization extends to Europe (Malta and Spain), China, and Central Asia.

The Arabs are at once the most ancient as they in many ways are the purest surviving type of the true Semite. Certainly the inhabitants of Yemen are not, and in historic times never were, pure Semites. Somali and other Ethnology. elements, generally described under the collective racial name of Hamitic, are clearly traceable; but the inland Arabs still present the nearest approach to the primitive Semitic type. The origin of the Arab race can only be a matter of conjecture. From the remotest historic times it has been divided into two branches, which from their geographical position it is simplest to call the North Arabians and the South Arabians. Arabic and Jewish tradition trace the descent of the latter from Joktan (Arabic Kahtan) son of Heber, of the former from Ishmael. The South Arabians—the older branch—were settled in the south-western part of the peninsula centuries before the uprise of the Ishmaelites. These latter include not only Ishmael’s direct descendants through the twelve princes (Gen. xxv. 16), but the Edomites, Moabites, Ammonites, Midianites and other tribes. This ancient and undoubted division of the Arab race —roughly represented to-day by the universally adopted classification into Arabs proper and Bedouin Arabs (see Bedouins)-has caused much dispute among ethnologists. All authorities agree in declaring the race to be Semitic in the broadest ethnological signification of that term, but some thought they saw in this division of the race an indication of a dual origin. They asserted that the purer branch of the Arab family was represented by the sedentary Arabs who were of Hamitic (Biblical Cushite), i.e. African ancestry, and that the nomad Arabs were Arabs only by adoption, and were nearer akin to the true Semite as sons of Ishmael. Many arguments were adduced in support of this theory, (1) The unquestioned division in remote historic times of the Arab race, and the immemorial hostility between the two branches. (2) The concurrence of pre-Islamitic literature and records in representing the first settlement of the “pure” Arab as made in the extreme south-western part of the peninsula, near Aden. (3) The use of Himyar, “dusky” or “red” (suggesting African affinities), as the name sometimes for the ruling class, sometimes for the entire people. (4) The African affinities of the Himyaritic language. (5) The resemblance of the grammar of the Arabic now spoken by the “pure” Arabs, where it differs from that of the North, to the Abyssinian grammar. (6) The marked resemblance of the pre-Islamitic institutions of Yemen and its allied provinces-its monarchies, courts, armies and serfs—to the historical Africo-Egyptian type and even to modern Abyssinia. (7) The physique of the “pure” Arab, the shape and size of the head, the slenderness of the lower limbs, all suggesting an African rather than an Asiatic origin. (8) The habits of the people, viz. their sedentary rather than nomad occupations, their fondness for village life, for dancing, music and society, their cultivation of the soil, having more in common with African life than with that of the western Asiatic continent. (9) The extreme facility of marriage which exists in all classes of the southern Arabs with the African races, the fecundity of such unions and the slightness or even total absence of any caste feeling between the dusky “pure” Arab and the still darker African, pointing to a community of origin. And further arguments were found in the characteristics of the Bedouins, their pastoral and nomad tendencies; the peculiarities of their idiom allied to the Hebrew; their strong clan feeling, their continued resistance to anything like regal power or centralized organization.

The Arabs are simultaneously the most ancient and, in many ways, the purest remaining example of the true Semite. It's clear that the people of Yemen are not, and historically have never been, pure Semites. Somali and other elements, generally grouped under the racial label of Hamitic, can be clearly identified; however, the inland Arabs still closely resemble the original Semitic type. The origins of the Arab race can only be guessed at. From the earliest historical times, it has been divided into two branches, which can simply be called the North Arabians and the South Arabians based on their geographical location. Arabic and Jewish tradition trace the lineage of the latter group back to Joktan (Arabic Kahtan), the son of Heber, and the former group to Ishmael. The South Arabians—the older branch—established themselves in the southwestern part of the peninsula centuries before the rise of the Ishmaelites. The Ishmaelites include not just Ishmael’s direct descendants through the twelve princes (Gen. xxv. 16), but also the Edomites, Moabites, Ammonites, Midianites, and other tribes. This ancient and clear division of the Arab race—now generally represented by the classification into Arabs proper and Bedouin Arabs (see Bedouins)—has sparked considerable debate among ethnologists. All scholars agree that the race is Semitic in the broadest ethnological sense, but some believe this division indicates a dual origin. They argued that the purer branch of the Arab family is represented by the sedentary Arabs, who have Hamitic (Biblical Cushite) roots, i.e., African ancestry, while the nomadic Arabs are Arabs only by adoption and are more closely related to the true Semites as sons of Ishmael. Many arguments were put forth to support this theory: (1) The clear division of the Arab race in remote historical times and the long-standing hostility between the two branches. (2) The agreement of pre-Islamic literature and records that the first settlement of the "pure" Arabs occurred in the far southwestern part of the peninsula, near Aden. (3) The use of Himyar, meaning "dusky" or "red" (implying African connections), sometimes referring to the ruling class and other times to the entire population. (4) The African connections of the Himyaritic language. (5) The similarity of the grammar of the Arabic currently spoken by the "pure" Arabs, where it differs from that of the North, to the grammar of Abyssinian. (6) The strong resemblance of the pre-Islamic institutions in Yemen and its neighboring areas—its monarchies, courts, armies, and serfs—to the historical Africo-Egyptian type and even to modern Abyssinia. (7) The physical characteristics of the "pure" Arab, including head shape and size, as well as the slenderness of their lower limbs, suggesting an African rather than an Asiatic origin. (8) The lifestyle of the people, characterized by their preference for settled rather than nomadic occupations, their love for village life, dance, music, and social gatherings, and their agricultural practices, which align more with African life than with that of the western Asian continent. (9) The ease with which all classes of southern Arabs marry African races, the high fertility of these unions, and the minimal or even complete lack of caste feelings between the dusky "pure" Arabs and the darker Africans, suggesting a shared origin. Additionally, further arguments were found in the traits of the Bedouins, including their pastoral and nomadic tendencies, their unique dialect related to Hebrew, their strong sense of clan identity, and their ongoing resistance to centralized power or monarchy.

Such, briefly, were the more important arguments; but latterly ethnologists are inclined to agree that there is little really to be said for the African ancestry theory and that the Arab race had its beginning in the deserts of south Arabia, that in short the true Arabs are aborigines.

Such, briefly, were the more important arguments; but recently, ethnologists tend to agree that there isn't much support for the African ancestry theory and that the Arab race originated in the deserts of southern Arabia, meaning that, in short, the true Arabs are indigenous people.

Mahommedans call the centuries before the Prophet’s birth waqt-el jahilīya, “the time of ignorance,” but the fact is that the Arab world has in some respects never since reached so high a level as it had in those days which it suits Moslems to paint in dreary colours. Writing was a fine art and poetry flourished. Eloquence was an accomplishment all strove to acquire, and each year there were assemblies, lasting sometimes a month, which were devoted to contests of skill among the orators and poets, to listen to whose friendly rivalry tribesmen journeyed long distances. Last, that surest index of a people’s civilization—the treatment of women—contrasted very favourably with their position under the Koran. Women had rights and were respected. The veil and the harem system were unknown before Mahomet. According to Nöldeke the Nabataean inscriptions and coins show that women held a high social position in northern Arabia, owning large estates and trading independently. Polyandry and polygamy, it is true, were practised, but the right of divorce belonged to the woman as well as the man. Two kinds of marriage were celebrated. One was a purely personal contract, with no witnesses, the wife not leaving her home or passing under marital authority. The other was a formal marriage, the woman becoming subject to her husband by purchase or capture. Even captive women were not kept in slavery. Arabic wealth and culture had indeed thus early reached a stage which justified Professor Robertson Smith in writing, “In this period the name of Arab was associated to Western writers with ideas of effeminate indolence and peaceful opulence ... the golden age of Yemen.” But long before Mahomet’s time this early Arab predominance was at an end, possibly due in great measure to the loss of the caravan trade through the increase of shipping. The abandonment of great cities and the ruin of many tribes contributed to the apparent nationalization of the Arab peoples. Though the traditional jealousy and hostility of the two branches, the Yemenites and Maadites or Ishmaelites, remained, the Arab world had attained by the levelling process of common misfortune the superficial unity it presents to-day. The nation thus formed, never a nation in the strict sense of the word, was distinctively and thoroughly Semitic in character and language, and has remained unchanged to the present day. The sporadic brilliancy of the ancient Arab kingdoms gave place to a social and political lethargy, the continuation of which for many centuries made the uprise of Saracenic empires seem a miracle to a world ignorant of the Arab past. The Arab race up to Mahomet’s day had been in the main pagan. Monotheism, if it ever prevailed, early gave place to sun and star worship, or simple idolatry. Professor Robertson Smith suggests that totemism was the earliest form of Arabian idolatry, and that each tribe had its sacred animal. This he supports by the fact that some tribal names were derived from those of animals, and that animal-worship was not unknown in Arabia. What seems certain is that Arab religion was of a complex hybrid nature, not much to be wondered at when one remembers that Arabia was the asylum of many religious refugees, Zoroastrians, Jews, 285 Christians. In the later pre-Islamitic times spirits, or jinns, as they were called, of which each tribe or family had its own, were worshipped, and there was but a vague idea of a Supreme Being. Images of the jinns to the number of 360, one for each day of the lunar year, were collected in the temple at Mecca, the chief seat of their worship. That worship was of a sanguinary nature. Human sacrifice was fairly frequent. Under the guise of religion female infanticide was a common practice. At Mecca the great object of worship was a plain black stone, and to it pilgrimages were made from every part of Arabia. This stone was so sacred to the Arabs that even Mahomet dared not dispense with it, and it remains the central object of sanctity in the Ka’ba to-day. The temples of the Sabaeans and the Minaeans were built east of their cities, a fact suggesting sun-worship, yet this is not believed to have been the cult of the Minaeans. Common to both was the worship of Attar, the male Ashtoreth.

Muslims refer to the centuries before the Prophet’s birth as waqt-el jahilīya, meaning “the time of ignorance,” but the truth is that, in some ways, the Arab world has never achieved a higher level since those days, which Muslims often depict in bleak tones. Writing was an esteemed art form, and poetry thrived. Eloquence was a skill that everyone aimed to master, and each year, there were gatherings lasting up to a month, centered around competitions among orators and poets, drawing tribesmen from far and wide to witness their friendly rivalries. Furthermore, the treatment of women—a key indicator of a society's civilization—was notably better than under the Koran. Women had rights and were respected. The veil and harem system were absent before Muhammad. According to Nöldeke, Nabataean inscriptions and coins indicate that women held significant social positions in northern Arabia, owning large properties and trading on their own. While polyandry and polygamy were practiced, both men and women had the right to seek a divorce. There were two types of marriage: one was a personal contract without witnesses, where the wife remained in her family home and wasn’t under marital control, while the other was a formal marriage, in which the woman became subject to her husband via purchase or capture. Even captive women were not kept as slaves. By this time, Arabic wealth and culture had reached a level that led Professor Robertson Smith to remark, “In this period, the name of Arab was associated by Western writers with ideas of effeminate indolence and peaceful opulence ... the golden age of Yemen.” However, long before Muhammad’s time, this early Arab prominence had ended, likely due to the decline of the caravan trade with the rise of shipping. The decline of major cities and the downfall of many tribes contributed to the apparent unification of the Arab peoples. Although the traditional jealousy and rivalry between the two branches, the Yemenites and Maadites or Ishmaelites, persisted, the Arab world had obtained a superficial unity through the shared misfortunes it faced, which we see today. This nation, though never a nation in the strictest sense, was distinctly and thoroughly Semitic in character and language, remaining unchanged to this day. The sporadic brilliance of the ancient Arab kingdoms gave way to social and political stagnation, the continuation of which for many centuries made the rise of Saracenic empires seem miraculous to a world unaware of the Arab past. Up until Muhammad’s time, the Arab race was primarily pagan. Monotheism, if it ever existed, was quickly replaced by sun and star worship, or simple idolatry. Professor Robertson Smith posits that totemism was the earliest form of Arabian idolatry, with each tribe having its sacred animal. He supports this by noting that some tribal names derived from animals and that animal worship existed in Arabia. What is certain is that Arab religion was a complex mix, which isn’t surprising considering that Arabia was home to many religious refugees, including Zoroastrians, Jews, and Christians. In the later pre-Islamic times, spirits, or jinns, as they were called—each tribe or family having its own—were worshipped, with a vague notion of a Supreme Being. Images of the jinns, numbering 360, one for each day of the lunar year, were housed in the temple at Mecca, the primary site of their worship. That worship was bloodthirsty in nature, with human sacrifices occurring fairly often. Under the guise of religion, female infanticide was a common practice. At Mecca, a plain black stone was the main object of worship, attracting pilgrims from all over Arabia. This stone was so sacred to the Arabs that even Muhammad dared not disregard it, and it remains the central object of veneration in the Ka’ba today. The temples of the Sabaeans and the Minaeans were built east of their cities, suggesting sun worship, though this is not believed to have been the Minaeans’ cult. Common to both was the worship of Attar, the male Ashtoreth.

With the appearance of Mahomet the Arabs took anew a place in the world’s history.

With the rise of Muhammad, the Arabs once again occupied an important role in world history.

Physically the Arabs are one of the strongest and noblest races of the world. Baron de Larrey, surgeon-general to Napoleon on his expedition to Egypt and Syria, writes: “Their physical structure is in all respects Physique. more perfect than that of Europeans; their organs of sense exquisitely acute, their size above the average of men in general, their figure robust and elegant, their colour brown; their intelligence proportionate to their physical perfection and without doubt superior, other things being equal, to that of other nations.” The typical Arab face is of an oval form, lean-featured; the eyes a brilliant black, deep-set under bushy eyebrows; nose aquiline, forehead straight but not high. In body the Arab is muscular and long-limbed, but lean. Deformed individuals or dwarfs are rare among Arabs; nor, except leprosy, which is common, does any disease seem to be hereditary among them. They often suffer from ophthalmia, though not in the virulent Egyptian form. They are scrupulously clean in their persons, and take special care of their teeth, which are generally white and even. Simple and abstemious in their habits, they often reach an extreme yet healthy old age; nor is it common among them for the faculties of the mind to give way sooner than those of the body.

Physically, Arabs are among the strongest and noblest races in the world. Baron de Larrey, who was the surgeon-general to Napoleon during his expedition to Egypt and Syria, writes: “Their physical structure is in all respects Body. more perfect than that of Europeans; their senses are exceptionally sharp, their size is above average, their physique is robust and elegant, their skin tone is brown; their intelligence corresponds with their physical perfection and is undoubtedly superior, all else being equal, to that of other nations.” The typical Arab face is oval-shaped and lean; they have brilliant black eyes that are deep-set beneath bushy eyebrows; their noses are aquiline, and their foreheads are straight but not high. In terms of physique, Arabs are muscular and long-limbed, but lean. Deformities or dwarfism are rare among Arabs; aside from leprosy, which is fairly common, no diseases seem to be hereditary among them. They often experience ophthalmia, but not in the severe Egyptian form. They are extremely clean, taking special care of their teeth, which are usually white and straight. Simple and moderate in their lifestyles, they often achieve a long yet healthy old age; it is also uncommon for their mental faculties to decline before their physical abilities.

Thus, physically, they yield to few races, if any, of mankind; mentally, they surpass most, and are only kept back in the march of progress by the remarkable defect of organizing power and incapacity for combined action. Character. Lax and imperfect as are their forms of government, it is with impatience that even these are borne; of the four caliphs who alone reigned—if reign theirs could be called—in Arabia proper, three died a violent death; and of the Wahhabi princes, the most genuine representatives in later times of pure Arab rule, almost all have met the same fate. The Arab face, which is not unkindly, but never smiling, expresses that dignity and gravity which are typical of the race. While the Arab is always polite, good-natured, manly and brave, he is also revengeful, cruel, untruthful and superstitious. Of the Arab nature Burckhardt (other authorities, e.g. Barth and Rohlfs, are far less complimentary) wrote: “The Arab displays his manly character when he defends his guest at the peril of his own life, and submits to the reverses of fortune, to disappointment and distress, with the most patient resignation. He is distinguished from a Turk by the virtues of pity and gratitude. The Turk is cruel, the Arab of a more kind temper; he pities and supports the wretched, and never forgets the generosity shown to him even by an enemy.” The Arab will lie and cheat and swear false oaths, but once his word is pledged he may be trusted to the last. There are some oaths such as Wallah (by Allah) which mean nothing, but such an oath as the threefold one with wa, bi and ta as particles of swearing the meanest thief will not break. In temper, or at least in the manifestation of it, the Arab is studiously calm; and he rarely so much as raises his voice in a dispute. But this outward tranquillity covers feelings alike keen and permanent; and the remembrance of a rash jest or injurious word, uttered years before, leads only too often to that blood-revenge which is a sacred duty everywhere in Arabia.

Thus, physically, they match up to few races, if any, in humanity; mentally, they excel most and are only held back in the progress by their notable weakness in organizing power and inability for collective action. Character. Even though their government structures are loose and flawed, there’s impatience to endure even these; of the four caliphs who actually ruled—if that can be called ruling—in Arabia proper, three met violent ends; and almost all the Wahhabi princes, who represent the pure Arab rule in more recent times, have faced similar fates. The Arab face, which isn’t unkind but never smiles, reflects the dignity and seriousness characteristic of the race. While the Arab is always polite, good-natured, manly, and brave, he can also be vindictive, cruel, dishonest, and superstitious. Burckhardt (other sources like Barth and Rohlfs are much less flattering) wrote about the Arab nature: “The Arab shows his manly character when he defends his guest at the risk of his own life and endures setbacks, disappointment, and distress with the utmost patience. He differs from a Turk through his virtues of compassion and gratitude. The Turk is harsh, while the Arab has a kinder disposition; he empathizes with and helps the unfortunate and never forgets the kindness shown to him, even by an enemy.” The Arab may lie, cheat, and swear false oaths, but once he gives his word, he can be trusted completely. There are some oaths like Wallah (by Allah) that mean nothing, but a serious oath using the threefold form with wa, bi, and ta as swearing particles is not broken even by the meanest thief. In temperament, or at least how it shows, the Arab is intentionally calm; he rarely raises his voice in an argument. But this outward calm disguises feelings that are both intense and enduring; the memory of a careless joke or hurtful word spoken years ago often leads to the blood vengeance that is considered a sacred duty throughout Arabia.

There exist, however, marked tribal or almost semi-national diversities of character among the Arabs. Thus, the inhabitants of Hejaz are noted for courtesy and blamed for fickleness; those of Nejd are distinguished by their stern tenacity and dignity of deportment; the nations of Yemen are gentle and pliant, but revengeful; those of Hasa and Oman cheerful and fond of sport, though at the same time turbulent and unsteady. Anything approaching to a game is rare in Nejd, and in the Hejaz religion and the yearly occurrence of the pilgrim ceremonies almost exclude all public diversions; but in Yemen the well-known game of the “jerid,” or palm-stick, with dances and music is not rare. In Oman such amusements are still more frequent. Again in Yemen and Oman, coffee-houses, where people resort for conversation, and where public recitals, songs and other amusements are indulged in, stand open all day; while nothing of the sort is tolerated in Nejd. So too the ceremonies of circumcision or marriage are occasions of gaiety and pastime on the coast, but not in the central provinces.

There are significant tribal or almost semi-national differences in character among the Arabs. For instance, the people of Hejaz are known for their politeness but are criticized for being unreliable; those from Nejd are recognized for their strict tenacity and dignified behavior; the people of Yemen are gentle and adaptable, but vengeful; while those from Hasa and Oman are cheerful and enjoy sports, though they can also be volatile and unpredictable. Games are uncommon in Nejd, and in Hejaz, religion and the annual pilgrimage ceremonies nearly eliminate all public entertainment; however, in Yemen, the popular game of “jerid,” or palm-stick, along with dances and music, is not uncommon. In Oman, such activities are even more frequent. Additionally, in Yemen and Oman, coffeehouses, where people gather for conversation and where public readings, songs, and other entertainments take place, are open all day, while nothing like that is accepted in Nejd. Similarly, the celebrations of circumcision or marriage are times of joy and fun on the coast, but not in the central provinces.

An Arab town, or even village, except it be the merest hamlet, is invariably walled round; but seldom is a stronger material than dried earth used; the walls are occasionally flanked by towers of like construction. A dry ditch Manners and customs. often surrounds the whole. The streets are irregular and seldom parallel. The Arab, indeed, lacks an eye for the straight. The Arab carpenter cannot form a right angle; an Arab servant cannot place a cloth square on a table. The Ka’ba at Mecca has none of its sides or angles equal. The houses are of one or two storeys, rarely of three, with flat mud roofs, little windows and no external ornament. If the town be large, the expansion of one or two streets becomes a market-place, where are ranged a few shops of eatables, drugs, coffee, cottons or other goods. Many of these shops are kept by women. The chief mosque is always near the market-place; so is also the governor’s residence, which, except in size and in being more or less fortified Arab fashion, does not differ from a private house. Drainage is unthought of; but the extreme dryness of the air obviates the inconvenience and disease that under other skies could not fail to ensue, and which in the damper climates of the coast make themselves seriously felt. But the streets are roughly swept every day, each householder taking care of the roadway that lies before his own door. Whitewash and colour are occasionally used in Yemen, Hejaz and Oman; elsewhere a light ochre tint, the colour of the sun-dried bricks, predominates, and gives an Arab town the appearance at a distance of a large dust-heap in the centre of the bright green ring of gardens and palm-groves. Baked bricks are unknown in Arabia, and stone buildings are rare, especially in Nejd. Palm branches and the like, woven in wattles, form the dwellings, of the poorer classes in the southern districts. Many Arab towns possess watch-towers, like huge round factory chimneys in appearance, built of sun-dried bricks, and varying in height from 50 to 100 ft. or even more. Indeed, two of these constructions at the town of Birkat-el-Mauj, in Oman, are said to be each of 170 ft. in height, and that of Nezwah, in the same province, is reckoned at 140; but these are of stone.

An Arab town, or even a village, unless it's just a small hamlet, is always surrounded by walls; but usually, the walls are made of nothing stronger than dried earth, and they may sometimes have towers of the same material. A dry ditch often encircles the entire area. The streets are irregular and rarely parallel. Arabs don’t really have a knack for straight lines. An Arab carpenter can't make a right angle; an Arab servant can't set a cloth squarely on a table. The Ka’ba in Mecca doesn’t have equal sides or angles. The houses are usually one or two stories tall, rarely three, with flat mud roofs, small windows, and no outside decorations. In larger towns, one or two streets widen into a market area, where a few shops sell food, medicines, coffee, cotton, and other goods. Many of these shops are run by women. The main mosque is always close to the market area; so is the governor’s residence, which, aside from being larger and somewhat fortified in the Arab style, looks like a private home. There’s no drainage system; however, the extremely dry air helps prevent the inconveniences and diseases that would be unavoidable under different climates, which are seriously felt in the humid coastal areas. Every day, the streets are roughly cleaned, with each household responsible for the roadway in front of their door. Occasionally, whitewash and color are used in Yemen, Hejaz, and Oman; elsewhere, light ochre—the color of sun-dried bricks—dominates, giving an Arab town the look of a large dust pile against the vibrant green of gardens and palm groves. Baked bricks aren’t found in Arabia, and stone buildings are uncommon, especially in Nejd. In the southern districts, poorer families often have homes made of palm branches woven together. Many Arab towns have watchtowers that look like giant round factory chimneys, made from sun-dried bricks and standing between 50 to 100 feet tall, or even taller. In fact, two of these structures in the town of Birkat-el-Mauj, in Oman, are said to be 170 feet high each, while the one in Nezwah in the same province is estimated to be 140 feet tall; but those are made of stone.

The principal feature in the interior of an Arab house is the “kahwah” or coffee-room. It is a large apartment spread with mats, and sometimes furnished with carpets and a few cushions. At one end is a small furnace or fireplace for preparing coffee. In this room the men congregate; here guests are received, and even lodged; women rarely enter it, except at times when strangers are unlikely to be present. Some of these apartments are very spacious and supported by pillars; one wall is usually built transversely to the compass direction of the Ka’ba; it serves to facilitate the performance of prayer by those who may happen to be in the kahwah at the appointed times. The other rooms are ordinarily small.

The main feature inside an Arab house is the “kahwah” or coffee room. It’s a large space covered with mats and sometimes furnished with carpets and a few cushions. At one end, there’s a small furnace or fireplace for making coffee. Men gather here; it’s where guests are welcomed and even accommodated; women rarely enter, except when it’s unlikely that strangers will be around. Some of these rooms are very spacious and supported by pillars; one wall is usually oriented to the direction of the Ka’ba, making it easier for those in the kahwah to pray at the designated times. The other rooms are generally small.

The Arabs are proverbially hospitable. A stranger’s arrival is often the occasion of an amicable dispute among the wealthier inhabitants as to who shall have the privilege of receiving him. 286 Arab cookery is of the simplest. Roughly-ground wheat cooked with butter; bread in thin cakes, prepared on a heated iron plate or against the walls of an open oven; a few vegetables, generally of the leguminous kinds; boiled mutton or camel’s flesh, among the wealthy; dates and fruits—this is the menu of an ordinary meal. Rice is eaten by the rich and fish is common on the coasts. Tea, introduced only a few decades back, is now largely drunk. A food of which the Arabs are fond is locusts boiled in salt and water and then dried in the sun. They taste like stale shrimps, but there is a great sale for them. Spices are freely employed; butter much too largely for a European taste.

The Arabs are known for their hospitality. When a stranger arrives, it often sparks a friendly debate among the wealthier locals about who gets the honor of welcoming them. 286 Arab cooking is quite simple. They prepare roughly ground wheat with butter, thin cakes of bread cooked on a hot iron plate or against the walls of an open oven, a few vegetables, usually legumes, boiled mutton or camel meat for the wealthy, and dates along with fruits—this is what a typical meal looks like. Rice is eaten by the rich, and fish is common along the coasts. Tea, which was introduced only a few decades ago, is now widely consumed. One dish the Arabs enjoy is locusts boiled in salt and water and then sun-dried. They have a taste similar to stale shrimp, but they're quite popular. Spices are used generously, and butter is often used in larger quantities than what Europeans are accustomed to.

After eating, the hands are always washed, soap or the ashes of an alkaline plant being used. A covered censer with burning incense is then passed round, and each guest perfumes his hands, face, and sometimes his clothes; this censer serves also on first receptions and whenever special honour is intended. In Yemen and Oman scented water often does duty for it. Coffee, without milk or sugar, but flavoured with an aromatic seed brought from India, is served to all. This, too, is done on the occasion of a first welcome, when the cups often make two or three successive rounds; but, in fact, coffee is made and drunk at any time, as frequently as the desire for it may suggest itself; and each time fresh grains are sifted, roasted, pounded and boiled—a very laborious process, and one that requires in the better sort of establishments a special servant or slave for the work. Arabs generally make but one solid meal a day—that of supper, soon after sunset. Even then they do not eat much, gluttony being rare among them, and even daintiness esteemed disgraceful. Wine, like other fermented drinks, is prohibited by the Koran, and is, in fact, very rarely taken, though the inhabitants of the mountains of Oman are said to indulge in it. On the coast spirits of the worst quality are sometimes procured; opium and hashish are sparingly indulged in. On the other hand, wherever Wahhābiism has left freedom of action, tobacco-smoking prevails; short pipes of clay, long pipes with large open bowls, or most frequently the water-pipe or “nar-ghileh,” being used. The tobacco smoked is generally strong and is either brought from the neighbourhood of Bagdad or grown in the country itself. The strongest quality is that of Oman; the leaf is broad and coarse, and retains its green colour even when dried; a few whiffs have been known to produce absolute stupor. The aversion of the Wahhābis to tobacco is well known; they entitle it “mukhzi” or “the shameful,” and its use is punished with blows, as the public use of wine would be elsewhere.

After eating, people always wash their hands, using either soap or ashes from an alkaline plant. A covered censer with burning incense is then passed around, and each guest perfumes their hands, face, and sometimes their clothes; this censer is also used during first receptions and whenever special honor is intended. In Yemen and Oman, scented water often takes its place. Coffee, served without milk or sugar but flavored with an aromatic seed from India, is offered to everyone. This is also done during a first welcome, when the cups often make two or three rounds; however, coffee can be made and drunk at any time, as frequently as one feels the need for it. Each time it’s prepared, fresh beans are sifted, roasted, ground, and boiled—a very labor-intensive process that, in better households, requires a dedicated servant or slave. Arabs usually have just one substantial meal a day—dinner, shortly after sunset. Even then, they don't eat much; gluttony is rare among them, and being too fussy about food is considered disgraceful. Wine, like other fermented drinks, is forbidden by the Koran and is quite rarely consumed, although people in the mountainous regions of Oman are said to partake. On the coast, low-quality spirits are sometimes available; opium and hashish are occasionally used. Conversely, where Wahhābiism hasn't imposed strict limitations, smoking tobacco is common; they use short clay pipes, long pipes with large bowls, or most often the water pipe, or “nar-ghileh.” The tobacco smoked is generally strong and is usually sourced from around Baghdad or grown locally. The strongest variety comes from Oman; the leaves are broad and coarse, retaining their green color even when dried; a few puffs can lead to complete stupor. The Wahhābis' aversion to tobacco is well known; they call it “mukhzi” or “the shameful,” and using it is punished with blows, just like public consumption of wine would be elsewhere.

In dress much variety prevails. The loose cotton drawers girded at the waist, which in hot climates do duty for trousers, are not often worn, even by the upper classes, in Nejd or Yemama, where a kind of silk dressing-gown is Dress. thrown over the long shirt; frequently, too, a brown or black cloak distinguishes the wealthier citizen; his head-dress is a handkerchief fastened round the head by a band. But in Hejaz, Yemen and Oman, turbans are by no means uncommon; the ordinary colour is white; they are worn over one or more skullcaps. Trousers also form part of the dress in the two former of these districts; and a voluminous sash, in which a dagger or an inkstand is stuck, is wrapped round the waist. The poorer folk, however, and the villagers often content themselves with a broad piece of cloth round the loins, and another across the shoulders. In Oman trousers are rare, but over the shirt a long gown, of peculiar and somewhat close-fitting cut, dyed yellow, is often worn. The women in these provinces commonly put on loose drawers and some add veils to their head-dresses; they are over-fond of ornaments (gold and silver); their hair is generally arranged in a long plait hanging down behind. All men allow their beards and moustaches full growth, though this is usually scanty. Most Arabs shave their heads, and indeed all, strictly speaking, ought by Mahommedan custom to do so. An Arab seldom or never dyes his hair. Sandals are worn more often than shoes; none but the very poorest go barefoot.

In clothing, there’s a wide variety. The loose cotton undergarments tied at the waist, which serve as shorts in hot climates, aren't commonly worn, even by the upper class, in Nejd or Yemama, where a type of silk robe is often layered over the long shirt; wealthy individuals usually also wear a brown or black cloak, and their headgear consists of a handkerchief tied around the head with a band. However, in Hejaz, Yemen, and Oman, turbans are quite common; the typical color is white, and they are worn over one or more caps. In the first two of these regions, trousers are also part of the outfit, along with a large sash that holds a dagger or an inkstand at the waist. Poorer individuals and villagers often make do with a wide piece of cloth wrapped around their hips and another crossed over their shoulders. In Oman, trousers are uncommon, but a long, snugly fitted yellow gown worn over the shirt is typical. Women in these areas usually wear loose undergarments and many add veils to their headwear; they have a strong fondness for jewelry (gold and silver) and typically style their hair in a long braid that hangs down their back. All men let their beards and mustaches grow fully, although these are typically sparse. Most Arabs shave their heads, and in fact, all should, according to Muslim customs. An Arab rarely dyes his hair. Sandals are worn more frequently than shoes, and only the very poorest go barefoot.

Slavery is still, as of old times, a recognized institution throughout Arabia; and an illicit traffic in blacks is carried on along the coasts of the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea. The slaves themselves were obtained chiefly from the east Slavery. African coast districts down as far as Zanzibar, but this source of supply was practically closed by the end of the 19th century. Slaves are usually employed in Arabia as herdsmen or as domestic servants, rarely in agricultural work; they also form a considerable portion of the bodyguards with which Eastern greatness loves to surround itself. Like their countrymen elsewhere, they readily embrace the religion of their masters and become zealous Mahommedans. Arab custom enfranchises a slave who has accepted Islam at the end of seven years of bondage, and when that period has arrived, the master, instead of exacting from his slave the price of freedom, generally, on giving him his liberty, adds the requisite means for supporting himself and a family in comfort. Further, on every important occasion, such as a birth, circumcision, a marriage or a death, one or more of the household slaves are sure of acquiring their freedom. Hence Arabia has a considerable free black population; and these again, by inter-marriage with the whites around, have filled the land with a mulatto breed of every shade, till, in the eastern and southern provinces especially, a white skin is almost an exception. In Arabia no prejudice exists against negro alliances; no social or political line separates the African from the Arab. A negro may become a sheik, a kadi, an amir, or whatever his industry and his talents may render him capable of being. This is particularly so in Nejd, Yemen and Hadramut; in the Hejaz and the north a faint line of demarcation may be observed between the races.

Slavery is still, as in the past, an accepted institution throughout Arabia, and an illegal trade in black people continues along the coasts of the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea. The slaves are mainly obtained from the eastern African coast, as far down as Zanzibar, but this source of supply was practically shut down by the end of the 19th century. Slaves in Arabia are typically used as herders or domestic workers, and rarely for agricultural labor. They also make up a significant portion of the bodyguards that Eastern leaders like to surround themselves with. Like others in their region, they often adopt the religion of their masters and become devoted Muslims. Arab tradition grants freedom to a slave who embraces Islam after seven years of servitude, and when that time comes, the master usually gives the slave his freedom and often provides the means for him to support himself and a family comfortably. Additionally, during important events such as a birth, circumcision, marriage, or death, one or more household slaves frequently gain their freedom. As a result, Arabia has a notable free black population, and through intermarriage with local whites, they have created a mixed population of various shades, particularly in the eastern and southern provinces, where having white skin is quite rare. There is no prejudice against black individuals forming alliances with Arabs in Arabia; no social or political barriers separate Africans from Arabs. A black person can become a sheik, a kadi, an amir, or whatever their skills and talents allow them to be. This is especially true in Nejd, Yemen, and Hadramut; in the Hejaz and northern regions, there is a slight distinction observed between the races.

The Arabs are good soldiers but poor generals. Personal courage, wonderful endurance of privation, fixity of purpose, and a contempt of death are qualities common to almost every race, tribe and clan that compose the Military qualities. Arab nation. In skirmishing and harassing they have few equals, while at close quarters they have often shown themselves capable of maintaining, armed with swords and spears alone, a desperate struggle against guns and bayonets, neither giving nor receiving quarter. Nor are they wholly ignorant of tactics, their armies, when engaged in regular war, being divided into centre and wings, with skirmishers in front and a reserve behind, often screened at the outset of the engagement by the camels of the expedition. These animals, kneeling and ranged in long parallel rows, form a sort of entrenchment, from behind which the soldiers of the main body fire their matchlocks, while the front divisions, opening out, act on either flank of the enemy. This arrangement of troops may be traced in Arab records as far back as the 5th century, and was often exemplified during the Wahhābi wars.

The Arabs are skilled soldiers but not great generals. They exhibit personal bravery, incredible endurance in tough situations, strong determination, and a disregard for death—traits found in almost every race, tribe, and clan that makes up the Military traits. Arab nation. In skirmishes and guerrilla tactics, they have few equals, and at close range, they have often proven capable of fiercely fighting with just swords and spears against guns and bayonets, giving no mercy and asking for none. They are not completely unaware of tactics either; their armies, when engaged in conventional warfare, are organized into a center and flanks, with skirmishers in front and a reserve behind, often shielded at the start of the battle by the camels involved in the operation. These camels, kneeling and lined up in long parallel rows, create a makeshift barricade from behind which the main force fires their matchlocks, while the front lines spread out and attack the enemy’s flanks. This method of troop arrangement can be found in Arab history as far back as the 5th century and was frequently demonstrated during the Wahhābi wars.

Arab women are scarcely less distinguished for their bravery than the men. Records of armed heroines occur frequently in the chronicles or myths of the pre-Islamitic time; and in authentic history the Battle of the Camel, 656 A.D., where Ayesha, the wife of Mahomet, headed the charge, is only the first of a number of instances in which Arab amazons have taken, sword in hand, no inconsiderable share in the wars and victories of Islam. Even now it is the custom for an Arab force to be always accompanied by some courageous maiden, who, mounted on a blackened camel, leads the onslaught, singing verses of encouragement for her own, of insult for the opposing tribe. Round her litter the fiercest of the battle rages, and her capture or death is the signal of utter rout; it is hers also to head the triumph after the victory of her clan.

Arab women are just as notable for their bravery as men. Stories of armed heroines are common in the legends and histories from before Islam; one significant example is the Battle of the Camel in 656 A.D., where Ayesha, the wife of Muhammad, led the charge. This is just one of many instances where Arab women have played a crucial role in the wars and victories of Islam, wielding swords alongside men. Even today, it’s customary for an Arab force to be joined by a brave woman who, riding a dark camel, leads the attack while singing encouraging verses for her side and taunting the enemy tribe. The fiercest fighting happens around her, and if she’s captured or dies, it signals complete defeat for her side. She also leads the celebration after her clan wins.

There is little education, in the European sense of the word, in Arabia. Among the Bedouins there are no schools, and few, even of the most elementary character, in the towns or villages. Where they exist, little beyond the Education. mechanical reading of the Koran, and the equally mechanical learning of it by rote, is taught. On the other hand, Arab male-children, brought up from early years among the grown-up men of the house or tent, learn more from their own parents and at home than is common in other countries; reading and writing are in most instances thus acquired, or rather 287 transmitted; besides such general principles of grammar and eloquence, often of poetry and history, as the elders themselves may be able to impart. To this family schooling too are due the good manners, politeness, and self-restraint that early distinguish Arab children. In the very few instances where a public school of a higher class exists, writing, grammar and rhetoric sum up its teachings. Law and theology, in the narrow sense that both these words have in the Islamitic system, are explained in afternoon lectures given in most mosques; and some verses of the Koran, with one of the accepted commentaries, that of Baidawi for example, form the basis of the instruction. Great attention is paid to accuracy of grammar and purity of diction throughout Arabia; yet something of a dialectic difference may be observed in the various districts. The purest Arabic, that which is as nearly as possible identical in the choice of words and in its inflections with the language of the Koran, is spoken in Nejd, and the best again of that in the province of Suder. Next in purity comes the Arabic of Shammar. Throughout the Hejaz in general, the language, though extremely elegant, is not equally correct; in el-Hasa, Bahrein and Oman it is decidedly influenced by the foreign element called Nabataean. In Yemen, as in other southern districts of the peninsula, Arabic merges insensibly into the Himyaritic or African dialect of Hadramut and Mahra. (See Semitic Languages.)

There is not much education, by European standards, in Arabia. Among the Bedouins, there are no schools, and very few, even basic ones, in the towns or villages. Where they do exist, it’s mostly just mechanical reading of the Koran and memorization of it by rote. On the flip side, Arab boys, raised among the adult men of the house or tent from a young age, learn more from their parents and at home than typically seen in other countries; reading and writing are often learned this way, or rather passed down. They also acquire general principles of grammar and eloquence, as well as some poetry and history, from the elders. This family education contributes to the good manners, politeness, and self-control that early stand out in Arab children. In the very few cases where a higher public school exists, it mainly teaches writing, grammar, and rhetoric. Law and theology, in the specific context of the Islamic system, are taught in afternoon lectures held in most mosques, and some verses of the Koran, along with one of the accepted commentaries, like Baidawi's, serve as the instructional foundation. There is a significant focus on grammar accuracy and language purity throughout Arabia, yet some dialectical variations can be noticed across different regions. The purest Arabic, which closely resembles the language of the Koran in terms of word choice and grammatical inflections, is spoken in Nejd, with the best of that in the province of Suder. Next in purity is the Arabic of Shammar. Generally, in the Hejaz, while the language is very elegant, it’s not as accurate; in el-Hasa, Bahrein, and Oman, it is noticeably influenced by the foreign Nabataean element. In Yemen, as in other southern parts of the peninsula, Arabic gradually blends into the Himyaritic or African dialects of Hadramut and Mahra. (See Semitic Languages.)

Bibliography.—Lieutenant Wellsted, Travels in Arabia (Lond., 1838); “Narrative of a Journey to the Ruins of Nakeb el Hajar” (Jour. R. Geog. Soc. vii. 20); Carsten Niebuhr. Travels through Arabia (transl. into English by Robert Heron, 2 vols., Edin., 1792); John Lewis Burckhardt, Travels in Arabia (2 vols., Lond., 1829); Notes on the Bedouins and Wahabis, (2 vols., Lond., 1830; in German, Weimar, 1831); C.J. Cruttenden, Journal of an Excursion to Sana’a, the Capital of Yemen (Bombay, 1838); A. Sprenger, Die alte Geographie Arabiens als Grundlage der Entwicklungsgeschichte des Semitismus (Berne, 1875); Sir Richard F. Burton, Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah (Lond., 1855); W. Robertson Smith, Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia (Cambridge); E. Reclus, Les Arabes (Brussels, 1898); Lady Anne Blunt, A Pilgrimage to Nejd (2 vols., Lond., 1881); C.M. Doughty, Arabia Deserta (2 vols., 1888); Rev. S.M. Zwemer, Arabia: the Cradle of Islam (1900); Albrecht Zehme, Arabien und die Araber, seit hundert Jahren (1875).

References.—Lieutenant Wellsted, Travels in Arabia (London, 1838); “Narrative of a Journey to the Ruins of Nakeb el Hajar” (Journal of the Royal Geographical Society vii. 20); Carsten Niebuhr. Travels through Arabia (translated into English by Robert Heron, 2 volumes, Edinburgh, 1792); John Lewis Burckhardt, Travels in Arabia (2 volumes, London, 1829); Notes on the Bedouins and Wahabis (2 volumes, London, 1830; in German, Weimar, 1831); C.J. Cruttenden, Journal of an Excursion to Sana’a, the Capital of Yemen (Bombay, 1838); A. Sprenger, The Old Geography of Arabia as the Foundation of the Development History of Semitism (Berne, 1875); Sir Richard F. Burton, Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah (London, 1855); W. Robertson Smith, Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia (Cambridge); E. Reclus, The Arabs (Brussels, 1898); Lady Anne Blunt, A Pilgrimage to Nejd (2 volumes, London, 1881); C.M. Doughty, Arabia Deserta (2 volumes, 1888); Rev. S.M. Zwemer, Arabia: the Cradle of Islam (1900); Albrecht Zehme, Arabia and the Arabs, Over the Last Hundred Years (1875).


ARACAJÚ, a city and seaport of Brazil, capital of the state of Sergipe, 170 m. N.N.E. of Bahia, on the river Cotinguiba, or Cotindiba, 6 m. from the coast. The municipality, of which it forms a part, had a population in 1890 of 16,336, about two-thirds of whom lived in the city itself. Aracajú is a badly built town on the right bank of the river at the base of a ridge of low sand-hills and has the usual features of an unprogressive provincial capital. Good limestone is quarried in its vicinity, and the country tributary to this port produces large quantities of sugar. Cotton is also grown, and the back country sends down hides and skins for shipment. The anchorage is good, but a dangerous bar at the mouth of the river prevents the entrance of vessels drawing more than 12 ft. The port is visited, therefore, only by the smaller steamers of the coastwise lines. The river is navigable as far as the town of Maroim, about 10 m. beyond Aracajú. The city was founded in 1855.

ARACAJÚ, is a city and seaport in Brazil, the capital of the state of Sergipe, located 170 miles N.N.E. of Bahia, on the Cotinguiba or Cotindiba River, 6 miles from the coast. The municipality, of which it is a part, had a population of 16,336 in 1890, with about two-thirds living in the city itself. Aracajú is a poorly constructed town situated on the right bank of the river at the base of a ridge of low sand-hills, featuring the typical characteristics of a stagnant provincial capital. Quality limestone is quarried nearby, and the surrounding area produces large amounts of sugar. Cotton is also cultivated, and the hinterland supplies hides and skins for export. The anchorage is good, but a hazardous bar at the river's mouth limits entry to vessels with a draft of no more than 12 feet. As a result, the port is primarily accessed by smaller coastal steamers. The river is navigable up to the town of Maroim, approximately 10 miles beyond Aracajú. The city was established in 1855.


ARACATY, or Aracatí, a city and port of Brazil, in the state of Ceará, 75 m. S.E. of Fortaleza, on the river Jaguaribe, 8 m. from the sea. Pop. of the municipality (1890) 20,182, of whom about 12,000 belonged to the city. A dangerous bar at the mouth of the river permits the entrance only of the smaller coasting steamers, but the port is an important commercial centre, and exports considerable quantities of cotton, hides, maniçoba, rubber, fruit, and palm wax.

ARACATY or Aracati, is a city and port in Brazil, located in the state of Ceará, 75 miles southeast of Fortaleza, on the Jaguaribe River, 8 miles from the sea. The population of the municipality in 1890 was 20,182, with about 12,000 living in the city. A dangerous sandbar at the river’s mouth only allows smaller coastal steamers to enter, but the port is an important commercial hub, exporting significant amounts of cotton, hides, maniçoba, rubber, fruit, and palm wax.


ARACHNE, in Greek mythology, the daughter of Idmon of Colophon in Lydia, a dyer in purple. She had acquired such skill in the art of weaving that she ventured to challenge Athena. While the goddess took as subjects her quarrel with Poseidon as to the naming and possession of Attica, and the warning examples of those who ventured to pit themselves against the immortals, Arachne depicted the metamorphoses of the gods and their amorous adventures. Her work was so perfect that Athena, enraged at being unable to find any blemish in it, tore it to pieces. Arachne hanged herself in despair; but the goddess out of pity loosened the rope, which became a cobweb, while Arachne herself was changed into a spider (Ovid, Metam. vi. 5-145). The story probably indicates the superiority of Asia over Greece in the textile arts.

ARACHNE, in Greek mythology, was the daughter of Idmon from Colophon in Lydia, a purple dyer. She had become so skilled in weaving that she dared to challenge Athena. While the goddess chose to depict her dispute with Poseidon over the naming and control of Attica, along with cautionary tales of those who opposed the gods, Arachne illustrated the transformations of the gods and their romantic escapades. Her work was so flawless that Athena, furious at not being able to find a single flaw, tore it apart. In her despair, Arachne hanged herself; however, the goddess, feeling pity, loosened the rope, which turned into a cobweb, while Arachne was transformed into a spider (Ovid, Metam. vi. 5-145). The story likely reflects the superiority of Asia over Greece in textile arts.


ARACHNIDA, the zoological name given in 1815 by Lamarck (Gr. ἁράχνη, a spider) to a class which he instituted for the reception of the spiders, scorpions and mites, previously classified by Linnaeus in the order Aptera of his great group Insecta. Lamarck at the same time founded the class Crustacea for the lobsters, crabs and water-fleas, also until then included in the order Aptera of Linnaeus. Lamarck included the Thysanura and the Myriapoda in his class Arachnida. The Insecta of Linnaeus was a group exactly equivalent to the Arthropoda founded a hundred years later by Siebold and Stannius. It was thus reduced by Lamarck in area, and made to comprise only the six-legged, wing-bearing “Insecta.” For these Lamarck proposed the name Hexapoda; but that name has been little used, and they have retained to this day the title of the much larger Linnaean group, viz. Insecta. The position of the Arachnida in the great sub-phylum Arthropoda, according to recent anatomical and embryological researches, is explained in the article Arthropoda. The Arachnida form a distinct class or line of descent in the grade Euarthropoda, diverging (perhaps in common at the start with the Crustacea) from primitive Euarthropods, which gave rise also to the separate lines of descent known as the classes Diplopoda, Crustacea, Chilopoda and Hexapoda.

ARACHNIDA, is the scientific name introduced in 1815 by Lamarck (Gr. arachnid, meaning spider) for a class he created to include spiders, scorpions, and mites, which Linnaeus had previously categorized under the order Aptera within his larger group Insecta. At the same time, Lamarck established the class Crustacea for lobsters, crabs, and water-fleas, which were also part of Linnaeus's order Aptera. Lamarck also included Thysanura and Myriapoda in his class Arachnida. Linnaeus's Insecta was equivalent to the Arthropoda classification that Siebold and Stannius defined a hundred years later. Thus, Lamarck reduced the scope of Insecta to only include six-legged, winged “Insecta.” He suggested the name Hexapoda for these, but it hasn’t been widely used, and they still go by the broad name from Linnaeus, Insecta. Recent anatomical and embryological studies clarify the placement of Arachnida within the large sub-phylum Arthropoda, discussed in the article Arthropoda. The Arachnida are a distinct class or lineage within the Euarthropoda grade, diverging (possibly initially alongside the Crustacea) from primitive Euarthropods, which also gave rise to separate lineages known as the classes Diplopoda, Crustacea, Chilopoda, and Hexapoda.

Fig. 1.—Entosternum, entosternite or plastron of Limulus polyphemus, Latr. Dorsal surface.

LAP, Left anterior process.

LAP, left anterior process.

RAP, Right anterior process.

RAP, right anterior process.

PhN, Pharyngeal notch.

PhN, pharyngeal notch.

ALR, Anterior lateial rod or tendon.

ALR, Anterior lateral rod or tendon.

PLR, Posterior lateral rod or tendon.

PLR, posterior lateral rod or tendon.

PLP, Posterior lateral process.

PLP, Posterior lateral process.

Natural size.

Actual size.

(From Lankester, Q. J. Mic. Sci., N S vol. xxiv, 1884.)

Limulus an Arachnid.—Modern views as to the classification and affinities of the Arachnida have been determined by the demonstration that Limulus and the extinct Eurypterines (Pterygotus, &c.) are Arachnida; that is to say, are identical in the structure and relation of so many important parts with Scorpio, whilst differing in those respects from other Arthropoda, that it is impossible to suppose that the identity is due to homoplasy or convergence, and the conclusion must be accepted that the resemblances arise from close genetic relationship. The view that Limulus, the king-crab, is an Arachnid was maintained as long ago as 1829 by Strauss-Dürckheim (1), on the ground of its possession of an internal cartilaginous sternum—also possessed by the Arachnida (see figs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6)—and of the similarity of the disposition of the six leg-like appendages around the mouth in the two cases (see figs. 45 and 63). The evidence of the exact equivalence of the segmentation and appendages of Limulus and Scorpio, and of a number of remarkable points of agreement in structure, was furnished by Ray Lankester in an article published in 1881 (“Limulus an Arachnid,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxi. N.S.), and in a series of subsequent memoirs, in which the structure of the entosternum, of the coxal glands, of the eyes, of the veno-pericardiac muscles, of the 288 respiratory lamellae, and of other parts, was for the first time described, and in which the new facts discovered were shown uniformly to support the hypothesis that Limulus is an Arachnid. A list of these memoirs is given at the close of this article (2, 3, 4, 5 and 13). The Eurypterines (Gigantostraca) were included in the identification, although at that time they were supposed to possess only five pairs of anterior or prosomatic appendages. They have now been shown to possess six pairs (fig. 47), as do Limulus and Scorpio.

Limulus an Arachnid.—Today's understanding of the classification and relationships within the Arachnida has been shaped by demonstrating that Limulus and the extinct Eurypterines (Pterygotus, etc.) are Arachnida; that is, they share so many important structural and relational similarities with Scorpio while differing from other Arthropoda, making it clear that this similarity can't be attributed to homoplasy or convergence. Therefore, it must be accepted that these resemblances stem from a close genetic connection. The idea that Limulus, the king-crab, is an Arachnid was proposed as far back as 1829 by Strauss-Dürckheim (1) based on its internal cartilaginous sternum—also found in Arachnida (see figs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6)—and the way the six leg-like appendages are arranged around the mouth in both cases (see figs. 45 and 63). Ray Lankester provided evidence demonstrating the exact equivalence of the segmentation and appendages of Limulus and Scorpio, along with a number of significant structural similarities, in an 1881 article titled “Limulus an Arachnid” (Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxi. N.S.), followed by several subsequent papers where he described the structure of the entosternum, coxal glands, eyes, veno-pericardiac muscles, respiratory lamellae, and other parts for the first time, consistently supporting the hypothesis that Limulus is indeed an Arachnid. A list of these papers can be found at the end of this article (2, 3, 4, 5 and 13). The Eurypterines (Gigantostraca) were included in this identification, even though at that time they were believed to have only five pairs of anterior or prosomatic appendages. It is now known that they actually have six pairs (fig. 47), just like Limulus and Scorpio.

Fig. 2.—Ventral surface of the entosternum of Limulus polyphemus, Latr. Letters as in fig. 1 with the addition of NF, neural fossa protecting the aggregated ganglia of the central nervous system; PVP, left posterior ventral process; PMP, posterior median process. Natural size.
(From Lankester.)
Fig. 3.—Entosternum of scorpion (Palamnaeus Indus, de Geer); dorsal surface.

asp, Paired anterior process of the sub-neural arch.

asp, Paired front section of the sub-neural arch.

snp, Sub-neural arch.

snp, Sub-neural arch.

ap, Anterior lateral process (same as RAP and LAP in fig. 1).

ap, Anterior lateral process (same as RAP and LAP in fig. 1).

lmp, Lateral median process (same as ALR and PLR of fig. 1).

lmp, Lateral median process (same as ALR and PLR shown in fig. 1).

pp, Posterior process (same as PLP in fig. 1).

pp, Posterior process (the same as PLP in fig. 1).

pf, Posterior flap or diaphragm of Newport.

pf, Back flap or diaphragm of Newport.

m1 and m2, Perforations of the diaphragm for the passage of muscles.

m1 and m2, Holes in the diaphragm for muscle passage.

DR, The paired dorsal ridges.

DR, The paired dorsal fins.

GC, Gastric canal or foramen.

GC, gastric canal or opening.

AC, Arterial canal or foramen.

AC, Arterial canal or opening.

(After Lankester, loc. cit.)

The various comparisons previously made between the structure of Limulus and the Eurypterines on the one hand, and that of a typical Arachnid, such as Scorpio, on the other, had been vitiated by erroneous notions as to the origin of the nerves supplying the anterior appendages of Limulus (which were finally removed by Alphonse Milne-Edwards in his beautiful memoir (6) on the structure of that animal), and secondly by the erroneous identification of the double sternal plates of Limulus, called “chilaria,” by Owen, with a pair of appendages (7). Once the identity of the chilaria with the pentagonal sternal plate of the scorpion is recognized—an identification first insisted on by Lankester—the whole series of segments and appendages in the two animals, Limulus and Scorpio, are seen to correspond most closely, segment for segment, with one another (see figs. 7 and 8). The structure of the prosomatic appendages or legs is also seen to present many significant points of agreement (see figures), but a curious discrepancy existed in the six-jointed structure of the limb in Limulus, which differed from the seven-jointed limb of Scorpio by the defect of one joint. R.I. Pocock of the British Museum has observed that in Limulus a marking exists on the fourth joint, which apparently indicates a previous division of this segment into two, and thus establishes the agreement of Limulus and Scorpio in this small feature of the number of segments in the legs (see fig. 11).

The various comparisons made earlier between the structure of Limulus and the Eurypterines on one hand, and a typical Arachnid like Scorpio on the other, were flawed due to incorrect ideas about the origin of the nerves supplying the front appendages of Limulus (which were ultimately clarified by Alphonse Milne-Edwards in his detailed paper (6) on the anatomy of that creature). Additionally, there was a mistake in identifying the double sternal plates of Limulus, referred to as “chilaria” by Owen, as a pair of appendages (7). Once it became clear that the chilaria are identical to the pentagonal sternal plate of the scorpion—an identification first pointed out by Lankester—it became evident that the entire series of segments and appendages in Limulus and Scorpio correspond closely, segment by segment (see figs. 7 and 8). The structure of the prosomatic appendages or legs also shows many significant similarities (see figures), but there was an interesting difference in the six-jointed structure of Limulus's limb, which lacked one joint compared to the seven-jointed limb of Scorpio. R.I. Pocock from the British Museum noted that there’s a marking on the fourth joint of Limulus, which seems to suggest a previous division of this segment into two, thereby confirming the similarity between Limulus and Scorpio in this minor detail regarding the number of segments in the legs (see fig. 11).

It is not desirable to occupy the limited space of this article by a full description of the limbs and segments of Limulus and Scorpio. The reader is referred to the complete series of figures here given, with their explanatory legends (figs 12, 13, 14, 15). Certain matters, however, require comment and explanation to render the comparison intelligible. The tergites, or chitinized dorsal halves of the body rings, are fused to form a “prosomatic carapace,” or carapace of the prosoma, in both Limulus and Scorpio (see figs. 7 and 8). This region corresponds in both cases to six somites, as indicated by the presence of six pairs of limbs. On the surface of the carapace there are in both animals a pair of central eyes with simple lens and a pair of lateral eye-tracts, which in Limulus consist of closely-aggregated simple eyes, forming a “compound” eye, whilst in Scorpio they present several separate small eyes. The microscopic structure of the central and the lateral eyes has been shown by Lankester and A.G. Bourne (5) to differ; but the lateral eyes of Scorpio were shown by them to be similar in structure to the lateral eyes of Limulus, and the central eyes of Scorpio to be identical in structure with the central eyes of Limulus (see below).

It’s not ideal to take up the limited space of this article with a full description of the limbs and segments of Limulus and Scorpio. Readers can refer to the complete series of figures provided, along with their explanatory captions (figs 12, 13, 14, 15). However, certain aspects require commentary and explanation to make the comparison clearer. The tergites, or the hardened upper parts of the body segments, are fused to create a “prosomatic carapace,” or carapace of the prosoma, in both Limulus and Scorpio (see figs. 7 and 8). This area corresponds to six somites in both cases, as indicated by the six pairs of limbs present. On the surface of the carapace, both animals have a pair of central eyes with simple lenses and a pair of lateral eye-tracts. In Limulus, these consist of closely grouped simple eyes, forming a “compound” eye, while in Scorpio, they have several separate small eyes. The microscopic structure of the central and lateral eyes has been shown by Lankester and A.G. Bourne (5) to differ; however, they found that the lateral eyes of Scorpio are structurally similar to the lateral eyes of Limulus, and that the central eyes of Scorpio are identical in structure to those of Limulus (see below).

Fig. 4.—Ventral surface of the same entosternum as that drawn in fig. 3. Letters as in fig. 3 with the addition of NC, neural canal or foramen.
(After Lankester, loc. cit.)
Fig. 5.—Entosternum of one of the mygalomorphous spiders; ventral surface. Ph.N., pharyngeal notch. The posterior median process with its repetition of triangular segments closely resembles the same process in Limulus.
(From Lankester, loc. cit.)
Fig. 6.—Dorsal surface of the same entosternum as that drawn in fig. 5. Ph.N., pharyngeal notch.
After Lankester, loc. cit.

Following the prosoma is a region consisting of six segments (figs. 14 and 15), each carrying a pair of plate-like appendages in both Limulus and Scorpio. This region is called the mesosoma. The tergites of this region and those of the following region, the metasoma, are fused to form a second or posterior carapace in Limulus, whilst remaining free in Scorpio. The first pair of foliaceous appendages in each animal is the genital operculum; beneath it are found the openings of the genital ducts. The second pair of mesosomatic appendages in Scorpio are known as the “pectens.” Each consists of an axis, bearing numerous blunt tooth-like processes arranged in a series. This is represented in Limulus by the first gill-bearing appendage. The leaves (some 150 in number) of the gill-book (see figure) correspond to the tooth-like processes of the pectens of Scorpio. The next four pairs of appendages (completing the mesosomatic series of six) consist, in both Scorpio and Limulus, of a base carrying each 130 to 150 blood-holding, leaf-like plates, lying on one another like the leaves of a book. Their minute structure is closely similar in the two cases; the leaf-like plates receive blood from the great sternal sinus, and serve as respiratory organs. The difference between the gill-books of Limulus and the lung-books of Scorpio depends on the fact that the latter are adapted to aerial respiration, while the former serve for aquatic respiration. The appendage carrying the gill-book stands out on the surface of the body in Limulus, and has other portions developed besides the gill-book and its base; it is fused with its fellow of the opposite side. On the other hand, in Scorpio, the gill-book-bearing appendage has sunk below the surface, forming a recess or chamber for itself, which communicates with the exterior by an oval or circular “stigma” (fig. 10, stg). That this in-sinking has taken place, and that the lung-books or in-sunken gill-books of Scorpio really represent appendages (that is to say, limbs or parapodia) is proved by their developmental history (see 289 figs. 17 and 18). They appear at first as outstanding processes on the surface of the body.

Following the prosoma is a region made up of six segments (figs. 14 and 15), each with a pair of plate-like appendages in both Limulus and Scorpio. This region is called the mesosoma. The tergites of this area, along with those of the next region, the metasoma, fuse to create a second or posterior carapace in Limulus, while they remain separate in Scorpio. The first pair of leaf-like appendages in each animal is the genital operculum; beneath it are the openings of the genital ducts. The second pair of mesosomatic appendages in Scorpio are known as the “pectens.” Each has an axis with many blunt tooth-like processes arranged in a series. In Limulus, this corresponds to the first gill-bearing appendage. The leaves (around 150 in number) of the gill-book (see figure) correspond to the tooth-like processes of Scorpio's pectens. The next four pairs of appendages (which complete the six in the mesosomatic series) have a base that carries each 130 to 150 blood-holding, leaf-like plates that lie on top of each other like the leaves of a book. Their tiny structure is quite similar in both cases; the leaf-like plates receive blood from the large sternal sinus and function as respiratory organs. The difference between the gill-books of Limulus and the lung-books of Scorpio is that the latter are adapted for breathing air, while the former are used for breathing underwater. In Limulus, the appendage carrying the gill-book extends outwards on the body surface and has additional structures besides the gill-book and its base; it is fused with its counterpart on the other side. In contrast, in Scorpio, the appendage bearing the gill-book is recessed below the surface, forming a chamber that opens to the outside through an oval or circular "stigma" (fig. 10, stg). The fact that this recess has formed, and that the lung-books or recessed gill-books of Scorpio truly represent appendages (meaning limbs or parapodia), is supported by their developmental history (see 289 figs. 17 and 18). They initially appear as protruding processes on the body surface.

The exact mode in which the in-sinking of superficial outstanding limbs, carrying gill-lamellae, has historically taken place has been a matter of much speculation. It was to be hoped that the specimen of the Silurian scorpion (Palaeophonus) from Scotland, showing the ventral surface of the mesosoma (fig. 49), would throw light on this matter; but the specimen recently carefully studied by the writer and Pocock reveals neither gill-bearing limbs nor stigmata. The probability appears to be against an actual introversion of the appendage and its lamellae, as was at one time suggested by Lankester. It is probable that such an in-sinking as is shown in the accompanying diagram has taken place (fig. 15); but we are yet in need of evidence as to the exact equivalence of margins, axis, &c., obtaining between the lung-book of Scorpio and the gill-book of Limulus. Zoologists are familiar with many instances (fishes, crustaceans) in which the protective walls of a water-breathing organ or gill-apparatus become converted into an air-breathing organ or lung, but there is no other case known of the conversion of gill processes themselves into air-breathing plates.

The exact way in which the sinking of external limbs with gill-lamellae happened historically has been widely debated. It was hoped that the specimen of the Silurian scorpion (Palaeophonus) from Scotland, which shows the underside of the mesosoma (fig. 49), would shed light on this issue; however, the specimen recently studied by the writer and Pocock shows neither gill-bearing limbs nor stigmata. The likelihood seems to go against the idea that the appendage and its lamellae actually folded inward, as Lankester once suggested. It appears that a sinking similar to what is illustrated in the accompanying diagram did occur (fig. 15); however, we still lack evidence regarding the exact equivalence of margins, axis, etc., between the lung-book of Scorpio and the gill-book of Limulus. Zoologists know of many cases (like fishes and crustaceans) where the protective walls of a water-breathing organ or gill structure transform into an air-breathing organ or lung, but there is no known instance of gill structures themselves turning into air-breathing plates.

Fig. 7.—Diagram of the dorsal surface of Limulus polyphemus.

oc, Lateral compound eyes.

oc, Side-facing compound eyes.

oc′, Central monomeniscous eyes.

oc′, Central monocular eyes.

PA, Post-anal spine.

PA, Post-anal spine.

I to VI, The six appendage-bearing somites of the prosoma.

I to VI, The six limb-bearing segments of the front body.

VII, Usually considered to be the tergum of the genital somite, but suggested by Pocock to be that of the otherwise suppressed praegenital somite.

VII, Usually considered to be the back part of the genital segment, but Pocock suggested it might belong to the otherwise suppressed praegenital segment.

VIII to XIII, The six somites of the mesosoma, each with a movable pleural spine and a pair of dorsal entopophysis or muscle-attaching ingrowths.

VIII to XIII, The six segments of the mesosoma, each with a movable side spine and a pair of dorsal entopophyses or muscle-attaching outgrowths.

XIV to XVIII, The confluent or unexpressed six somites of the metasoma.

XIV to XVIII, The merged or unexpressed six segments of the metasoma.

[According to the system of numbering explained in the text, if VII is the tergum of the praegenital somite (as is probable) it should be labelled Prg without any number, and the somites VIII to XIII should be lettered 1 to 6, indicating that they are the six normal somites of the mesosoma; whilst XV to XVIII should be replaced by the numbers 7 to 12—an additional suppressed segment (making up the typical six) being reckoned to the metasomatic fusion.]
(From Lankester, Q.J. Micr Set. vol. xxi., 1881.)
Figure. 8.—Diagram of the dorsal surface of a scorpion to compare with fig. 7. Letters and Roman numerals as in fig. 7, excepting that VII is here certainly the tergum of the first somite of the mesosoma—the genital somite—and is not a survival of the embryonic praegenital somite. The anus (not seen) is on the sternal surface.
(From Lankester, loc. cit.)

The identification of the lung-books of Scorpio with the gill-books of Limulus is practically settled by the existence of the pectens in Scorpio (fig. 14, VIII) on the second mesosomatic somite. There is no doubt that these are parapodial or limb appendages, carrying numerous imbricated secondary processes, and therefore comparable in essential structure to the leaf-bearing plates of the second mesosomatic somite of Limulus. They have remained unenclosed and projecting on the surface of the body, as once were the appendages of the four following somites. But they have lost their respiratory function. In non-aquatic life such an unprotected organ cannot subserve respiration. The “pectens” have become more firmly chitinized and probably somewhat altered in shape as compared with their condition in the aquatic ancestral scorpions. Their present function in scorpions is not ascertained. They are not specially sensitive under ordinary conditions, and may be touched or even pinched without causing any discomfort to the scorpion. It is probable that they acquire special sensibility at the breeding season and serve as “guides” in copulation. The shape of the legs and the absence of paired terminal claws in the Silurian Palaeophonus (see figs. 48 and 49) as compared with living scorpions (see fig. 10) show that the early scorpions were aquatic, and we may hope some day in better-preserved specimens than the two as yet discovered, to find the respiratory organs of those creatures in the condition of projecting appendages serving aquatic respiration somewhat as in Limulus, though not necessarily repeating the exact form of the broad plates of Limulus.

The identification of the lung structures in scorpions with the gill structures in Limulus is mostly confirmed by the presence of the pectens in Scorpio (fig. 14, VIII) on the second mesosomatic segment. There’s no doubt that these are parapodial or limb appendages, featuring multiple overlapping secondary processes, and therefore they’re structurally similar to the leaf-like plates of the second mesosomatic segment in Limulus. They remain exposed and protruding from the body surface, much like the appendages of the next four segments used to be. However, they’ve lost their breathing function. In land-dwelling life, such an exposed organ can’t aid in respiration. The “pectens” have become more rigid and likely somewhat changed in shape compared to their form in ancestral aquatic scorpions. Their current function in scorpions isn’t clear. They aren’t especially sensitive under normal conditions and can be touched or even pinched without causing the scorpion any pain. It’s likely that they become more sensitive during the breeding season and act as “guides” during mating. The shape of the legs and the absence of paired terminal claws in the Silurian Palaeophonus (see figs. 48 and 49) compared to modern scorpions (see fig. 10) indicate that early scorpions were aquatic. We hope that someday, in better-preserved specimens than the two we've found so far, we’ll discover the respiratory organs of those creatures as projecting appendages used for breathing in water, similar to what we see in Limulus, though not necessarily taking the exact form of Limulus's broad plates.

It is important to note that the series of lamellae of the lung-book and the gill-book correspond exactly in structure, the narrow, flat blood-space in the lamellae being interrupted by pillar-like junctions of the two surfaces in both cases (see Lankester (4)), and the free surfaces of the adjacent lamellae being covered with a very delicate chitinous cuticle which is drawn out into delicate hairs and processes. The elongated axis which opens at the stigma in Scorpio and which can be cleared of soft, surrounding tissues and coagulated blood so as to present the appearance of a limb axis carrying the book-like leaves of the lung is not really, as it would seem to be at first sight, the limb axis. That is necessarily a blood-holding structure and is obliterated and fused with soft tissues of the sternal region so that the lamellae cannot be detached and presented as standing out from it. The apparent axis or basal support of the scorpion’s lung-books shown in the figures, is a false or secondary axis and merely a part of the infolded surface which forms the air-chamber. The maceration of the soft parts of a scorpion preserved in weak spirit and the cleaning of the chitinized in-grown cuticle give rise to the false appearance of a limb axis carrying the lamellae. The margins of the lamellae of the scorpion’s lung-book, which are lowermost in the figures (fig. 15) and appear to be free, are really those which are attached to the blood-holding axis. The true free ends are those nearest the stigma.

It’s important to point out that the layers of the lung-book and the gill-book are structured exactly the same. The narrow, flat blood space in the layers is interrupted by pillar-like connections of the two surfaces in both cases (see Lankester (4)). The free surfaces of the adjacent layers are covered with a very delicate chitinous cuticle that extends into fine hairs and projections. The elongated axis that opens at the stigma in Scorpio, which can be cleared of soft surrounding tissues and coagulated blood to look like a limb axis carrying the book-like leaves of the lung, is not actually the limb axis, even though it may seem that way at first glance. That is a blood-holding structure that’s been obliterated and fused with the soft tissues of the sternal area, so the layers cannot be detached and presented as if they are standing out from it. The apparent axis or base support of the scorpion’s lung-books shown in the figures is a false or secondary axis and is simply part of the folded surface that forms the air chamber. Macerating the soft parts of a scorpion preserved in weak alcohol and cleaning the chitin-covered in-grown cuticle creates the misleading appearance of a limb axis carrying the layers. The edges of the layers of the scorpion’s lung-book, which are lowermost in the figures (fig. 15) and seem to be free, are actually the ones connected to the blood-holding axis. The true free ends are the ones closest to the stigma.

Passing on now from the mesosoma we come in Scorpio to the metasoma of six segments, the first of which is broad whilst the rest are cylindrical. The last is perforated by the anus and carries the post-anal spine or sting. The somites of the metasoma carry no parapodia. In Limulus the metasoma is practically suppressed. In the allied extinct Eurypterines it is well developed, and resembles that of Scorpio. In the embryo Limulus (fig. 42) the six somites of the mesosoma are not fused to form a carapace at an early stage, and they are followed by three separately marked metasomatic somites; the other three somites of the metasoma have disappeared in Limulus, but are represented by the unsegmented prae-anal region. It is probable that we have in the metasoma of Limulus a case of the disappearance of once clearly demarcated somites. It would be possible to suppose, on the other hand, that new somites are only beginning to make their appearance here. The balance of various considerations is against the latter hypothesis. Following the metasoma in Limulus, we have as in Scorpio the post-anal spine—in this case not a sting, but a powerful and important organ of locomotion, serving to turn the animal over when it has fallen upon its back. The nature of the post-anal spine has been strangely misinterpreted by some writers. Owen (7) maintained that it represented a number of coalesced somites, regardless of its post-anal position and mode of development. The agreement of the grouping of the somites, of the form of the parapodia (appendages, limbs) in each region, of the position of the genital aperture and operculum, of the position and character of the eyes, and of the powerful post-anal spines not seen in other Arthropods, is very convincing as to the affinity 290 of Limulus and Scorpio. Perhaps the most important general agreement of Scorpio compared with Limulus and the Eurypterines is the division of the body into the three regions (or tagmata)—prosoma, mesosoma and metasoma—each consisting of six segments, the prosoma having leg-like appendages, the mesosoma having foliaceous appendages, and the metasoma being destitute of appendages.

Moving on from the mesosoma, we arrive at the metasoma in Scorpio, which has six segments. The first segment is broad, while the others are cylindrical. The last segment has the anus and features the post-anal spine or sting. The somites of the metasoma do not have any parapodia. In Limulus, the metasoma is mostly reduced. In the related extinct Eurypterines, it is well developed and similar to that of Scorpio. In the embryo of Limulus (fig. 42), the six somites of the mesosoma are not fused into a carapace at an early stage, and they are followed by three distinct metasomatic somites; the other three metasoma somites have disappeared in Limulus but are represented by the unsegmented prae-anal region. It's likely that the metasoma of Limulus shows a case where once clearly defined somites have vanished. On the other hand, one could argue that new somites are just starting to appear here. However, the weight of various factors argues against this second possibility. Following the metasoma in Limulus, similar to Scorpio, is the post-anal spine—this is not a sting, but a strong and significant organ for movement, helping the animal flip over if it ends up on its back. Some writers have oddly misunderstood the nature of the post-anal spine. Owen (7) claimed it represented a number of merged somites, ignoring its post-anal position and development. The similarities in the grouping of somites, the shape of the parapodia (appendages, limbs) in each area, the location of the genital opening and operculum, the position and type of the eyes, and the strong post-anal spines not found in other Arthropods strongly support the relationship between Limulus and Scorpio. One of the most significant overall similarities between Scorpio compared to Limulus and the Eurypterines is the division of the body into three regions (or tagmata)—prosoma, mesosoma, and metasoma—each made up of six segments, with the prosoma having leg-like appendages, the mesosoma featuring leaf-like appendages, and the metasoma lacking appendages.

Fig. 9.—Ventral view of the posterior carapace or meso-metasomatic (opisthospmatic) fusion of Limulus polyphemus. The soft integument and limbs of the mesosoma have been removed as well as all the viscera and muscles, so that the inner surface of the terga of these somites with their entopophyses are seen. The unsegmented dense chitinous sternal plate of the metasoma (XIII to XVIII) is not removed. Letters as in fig. 7.
After Lankester, loc. cit.)
Fig. 10.—Ventral view of a scorpion, Palamnaeus indus, de Geer, to show the arrangement of the coxae of the limbs, the sternal elements, genital plate and pectens.

M, Mouth behind the oval median camerostome.

M, Mouth behind the oval median camerstome.

I, The chelicerae.

I, The chelicerae.

II, The chelae.

II, The claws.

III to VI, the four pairs of walking legs.

III to VI, the four pairs of legs used for walking.

VIIgo, The genital somite or first somite of the mesosoma with the genital operculum (a fused pair of limbs).

VIIgo, The genital somite or first somite of the mesosoma has the genital operculum (a fused pair of limbs).

VIIIp, The pectiniferous somite.

VIIIp, The pectinous segment.

IXstg to XIIstg, the four pulmonary somites.

IXstg to XIIstg, the four lung segments.

met, The pentagonal metasternite of the prosoma behind all the coxae.

met, The pentagonal metasternite of the prosoma located behind all the coxae.

x, The sternum of the pectiniferous somite.

x, The breastbone of the pectiniferous segment.

y, The broad first somite of the metasoma.

y, The wide first segment of the metasoma.

Fig. 11.—Third leg of Limulus polyphemus, showing the division of the fourth segment of the leg by a groove S into two, thus giving seven segments to the leg as in scorpion.
(From a drawing by Pocock.)

In 1893, some years after the identification of the somites of Limulus with those of Scorpio, thus indicated, had been published, zoologists were startled by the discovery by a Japanese zoologist, Kishinouye (8), of a seventh prosomatic somite in the embryo of Limulus longispina. This was seen in longitudinal sections, as shown in fig. 19. The simple identification of somite with somite in Limulus and Scorpio seemed to be threatened by this discovery. But in 1896 Dr August Brauer of Marburg (9) discovered in the embryo of Scorpio a seventh prosomatic somite (see VII PrG, figs. 17 and 18), or, if we please so to term it, a praegenital somite, hitherto unrecognized. In the case of Scorpio this segment is indicated in the embryo by the presence of a pair of rudimentary appendages, carried by a well-marked somite. As in Limulus, so in Scorpio, this unexpected somite and its appendages disappear in the course of development. In fact, more or less complete “excalation” of the somite takes place. Owing to its position it is convenient to term the somite which is excalated in Limulus and Scorpio “the praegenital somite.” It appears not improbable that the sternal plates wedged in between the last pair of legs in both Scorpio and Limulus, viz. the pentagonal sternite of Scorpio (fig. 10) and the chilaria of Limulus (see figs. 13 and 20), may in part represent in the adult the sternum of the excalated praegenital somite. This has not been demonstrated by an actual following out of the development, but the position of these pieces and the fact that they are (in Limulus) supplied by an independent segmental nerve, favours the view that they may comprise the sternal area of the vanished praegenital somite. This interpretation, however, of the “metasternites” of Limulus and Scorpio is opposed by the coexistence in Thelyphonus (figs. 55, 57 and 58) of a similar metasternite with a complete praegenital somite. H.J. Hansen (10) has recognized that the “praegenital somite” persists in a rudimentary condition, forming a “waist” to the series of somites in the Pedipalpi and Araneae. The present writer is of opinion that it will be found most convenient to treat this evanescent somite as something special, and not to attempt to reckon it to either the prosoma or the mesosoma. These will then remain as typically composed each of six appendage-bearing somites-the prosoma comprising in addition the ocular prosthomere.1 When the praegenital somite or traces of it are present it should not be called “the seventh prosomatic” or the “first mesosomatic,” but simply the “praegenital somite.” The first segment of the mesosoma of Scorpio and Limulus thus remains the first segment, and can be identified as such throughout the Eu-arachnida, carrying as it always does the genital apertures. But it is necessary to remember, in the light of recent discoveries, that the sixth prosomatic pair of appendages is carried on the seventh somite of the whole series, there being two prosthomeres or somites in front of the mouth, the first carrying the eyes, the second the chelicerae; also that the first mesosomatic or genital somite is not the seventh or even the eighth of the whole senes of somites which have been historically present, but is the ninth, owing to the presence or to the excalation of a praegenital somite. It seems that confusion and trouble will be best avoided by abstaining from the introduction of the non-evident somites, the ocular and the praegenital, into the numerical nomenclature of the component somites of the three great body regions. We shall, therefore, ignoring the ocular somite, speak of the first, second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth leg-bearing somites of the prosoma, and indicate the appendages by the Roman numerals, I, II, III, IV, V, VI, and whilst ignoring the praegenital somite we shall speak of the first, second, third, &c., somite of the mesosoma or opisthosoma (united mesosoma and metasoma) and indicate them by the Arabic numerals.

In 1893, a few years after it was published that the somites of Limulus matched those of Scorpio, zoologists were surprised by the discovery made by a Japanese zoologist, Kishinouye (8), of a seventh prosomatic somite in the embryo of Limulus longispina. This was observed in longitudinal sections, as depicted in fig. 19. The straightforward matching of somites between Limulus and Scorpio seemed to be challenged by this find. However, in 1896, Dr. August Brauer from Marburg (9) discovered a seventh prosomatic somite (see VII PrG, figs. 17 and 18) in the embryo of Scorpio, which could also be termed a praegenital somite, previously unrecognized. In Scorpio, this segment is indicated in the embryo by a pair of rudimentary appendages attached to a distinct somite. Just like in Limulus, this unexpected somite and its appendages disappear during development. In fact, a more or less complete “excalation” of the somite happens. Due to its position, it is practical to refer to the somite that is excalated in Limulus and Scorpio as “the praegenital somite.” It seems likely that the sternal plates situated between the last pair of legs in both Scorpio and Limulus, specifically the pentagonal sternite of Scorpio (fig. 10) and the chilaria of Limulus (see figs. 13 and 20), may partly represent in adults the sternum of the excalated praegenital somite. Although this hasn't been confirmed through an actual follow-up on development, the positioning of these pieces and the fact that they are (in Limulus) supplied by an independent segmental nerve support the theory that they may comprise the sternal area of the lost praegenital somite. However, interpreting the “metasternites” of Limulus and Scorpio this way is challenged by the existence of a similar metasternite alongside a complete praegenital somite in Thelyphonus (figs. 55, 57 and 58). H.J. Hansen (10) has noted that the “praegenital somite” persists in a rudimentary state, forming a “waist” within the series of somites in the Pedipalpi and Araneae. I believe it might be most convenient to treat this fleeting somite as something special, rather than including it in either the prosoma or the mesosoma. This means that both of these will typically consist of six appendage-bearing somites—the prosoma plus the ocular prosthomere. When the praegenital somite or its traces are present, it shouldn't be referred to as “the seventh prosomatic” or “the first mesosomatic," but simply “the praegenital somite.” Thus, the first segment of the mesosoma in Scorpio and Limulus remains the first segment and can be identified as such throughout the Eu-arachnida, always containing the genital openings. It's essential to keep in mind, considering recent discoveries, that the sixth prosomatic pair of appendages is located on the seventh somite of the overall series, with two prosthomeres or somites in front of the mouth—the first one carrying the eyes and the second one carrying the chelicerae. Also, the first mesosomatic or genital somite isn't the seventh or even the eighth in the entire historical sequence of somites, but is the ninth, due to the presence or excalation of a praegenital somite. It appears that confusion and complications can best be avoided by not introducing the non-evident somites, the ocular and the praegenital, into the numerical naming of the component somites of the three main body regions. Therefore, disregarding the ocular somite, we will refer to the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth leg-bearing somites of the prosoma and label the appendages using Roman numerals, I, II, III, IV, V, VI. While ignoring the praegenital somite, we will mention the first, second, third, etc., somite of the mesosoma or opisthosoma (combined mesosoma and metasoma) and indicate them with Arabic numerals.

There are a number of other important points of structure besides those referring to the somites and appendages in which Limulus agrees with Scorpio or other Arachnida and differs from other Arthropoda. The chief of these are as follows:—

There are several other key structural points, in addition to those related to the somites and appendages, where Limulus is similar to Scorpio and other Arachnida, but differs from other Arthropoda. The main ones are:—

1. The Composition of the Head (that is to say, of the anterior part of the prosoma) with especial Reference to the Region in Front of the Mouth.—It appears (see Arthropoda) that there is embryological evidence of the existence of two somites in Arachnida which were originally post-oral, but have become prae-oral by adaptational shifting of the oral aperture. These forwardly-slipped somites are called “prosthomeres.” The first of these has, in Arachnids as in other Arthropods, its pair of appendages represented by the eyes. The second has for its pair of appendages the small pair of limbs which in all living Arachnids is either chelate or retrovert (as in spiders), and is known as the chelicerae. It is possible, as maintained by some writers (Patten and others), that the lobes of the cerebral nervous mass in Arachnids indicate a larger number of prosthomeres as having fused in this region, but there is no embryological evidence at present which justifies us in assuming the existence in Arachnids of more than two prosthomeres. The position of the chelicerae of Limulus and of the ganglionic nerve-masses from which they receive their nerve-supply, is closely similar to that of the same structures in Scorpio. The cerebral mass is in Limulus more easily separated by dissection as a median lobe distinct from the laterally-placed ganglia of the chelceral somite than is the case in Scorpio, but the relations are practically the same in the two forms. Formerly it was supposed that in Limulus both the chelicerae and the next following pair of appendages were prosthomerous, as in Crustacea, but the dissections of Alphonse Milne-Edwards (6) demonstrated 291 the true limitations of the cerebrum, whilst embryological researches have done as much for Scorpio. Limulus thus agrees with Scorpio and differs from the Crustacea, in which there are three prosthomeres—one ocular and two carrying palpiform appendages. It is true that in the lower Crustacea (Apus, &c.) we have evidence of the gradual movement forward of the nerve-ganglia belonging to these palpiform appendages. But although in such lower Crustacea the nerve-ganglia of the third prosthomere have not fused with the anterior nerve-mass, there is no question as to the prae-oral position of two appendage-bearing somites in addition to the ocular prosthomere. The Crustacea have, in fact, three prosthomeres in the head and the Arachnida only two, and Limulus agrees with the Arachnida in this respect and differs from the Crustacea. The central nervous systems of Limulus and of Scorpio present closer agreement in structure than can be found when a Crustacean is compared with either. The wide divarication of the lateral cords in the prosoma and their connexion by transverse commissures, together with the “attraction” of ganglia to the prosomatic ganglion group which properly belong to hinder segments, are very nearly identical in the two animals. The form and disposition of the ganglion cells are also peculiar and closely similar in the two. (See Patten (42) for important observations on the neuromeres, &c., of Limulus and Scorpio.)

1. The Composition of the Head (which refers to the front part of the prosoma) with Special Focus on the Area in Front of the Mouth.—It seems (see Arthropoda) that there is embryological evidence showing that Arachnida originally had two somites that were post-oral but have shifted to become prae-oral due to adaptations in the oral opening. These forward-shifted somites are called "prosthomeres." The first one has its pair of appendages represented by the eyes in both Arachnids and other Arthropods. The second has a pair of small limbs, which in all living Arachnids are either chelate or retroverted (like in spiders), known as chelicerae. Some writers (Patten and others) suggest that the lobes of the cerebral nervous mass in Arachnids indicate that a larger number of prosthomeres may have fused in this area, but currently, there is no embryological evidence to support the idea that Arachnids have more than two prosthomeres. The position of the chelicerae in Limulus and the ganglionic nerve masses that supply them are very similar to that in Scorpio. In Limulus, the cerebral mass can be more easily separated by dissection as a median lobe distinct from the laterally-placed ganglia of the chelceral somite compared to Scorpio, but the overall relationships are practically the same in both. Previously, it was believed that in Limulus, both the chelicerae and the following pair of appendages were prosthomerous, similar to Crustacea, but dissections by Alphonse Milne-Edwards (6) clarified the true boundaries of the cerebrum, while embryological studies have done the same for Scorpio. Hence, Limulus aligns with Scorpio and differs from Crustacea, which have three prosthomeres—one ocular and two with palpiform appendages. It’s true that in the lower Crustacea (like Apus, etc.), there is evidence showing the gradual forward movement of the nerve-ganglia associated with these palpiform appendages. However, even if the nerve-ganglia of the third prosthomere haven't fused with the anterior nerve mass in these lower Crustacea, it’s clear that two appendage-bearing somites exist ahead of the ocular prosthomere. In fact, Crustacea have three prosthomeres in the head, while Arachnida have only two, and Limulus shares this characteristic with Arachnida, distinguishing it from Crustacea. The central nervous systems of Limulus and Scorpio show closer structural agreement than either does with Crustacea. The significant separation of the lateral cords in the prosoma and their connection through transverse commissures, as well as the "attraction" of ganglia toward the prosomatic ganglion group that actually belong to the hind segments, are very similar in both species. The shape and arrangement of the ganglion cells are also distinctive and closely resemble each other in both. (See Patten (42) for key observations on the neuromeres, etc., of Limulus and Scorpio.)

Fig. 12.—The prosomatic appendages of Limulus polyphemus (right) and Scorpio (left), Palamnaeus indus compared. The corresponding appendages are marked with the same Roman numeral. The Arabic numerals indicate the segments of the legs.

cox, Coxa or basal segment of the leg.

cox, Coxa, or base part of the leg.

stc, The sterno-coxal process or jaw-like up-growth of the coxa.

stc, The sterno-coxal process, or the jaw-like extension of the coxa.

epc, The articulated movable outgrowth of the coxa, called the epi-coxite (present only in III of the scorpion and III, IV and V of Limulus).

epc, The flexible jointed extension of the coxa, known as the epi-coxite (found only in III of the scorpion and III, IV, and V of Limulus).

ex1, The exopodite of the sixth limb of Limulus.

ex1, The outer part of the sixth limb of Limulus.

a, b, c, d, Movable processes on the same leg (see for some suggestions on the morphology of this leg, Pocock in Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. March 1901; see also fig. 50 below and explanation).

a, b, c, d, Movable processes on the same leg (for suggestions on the shape of this leg, see Pocock in Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. March 1901; also refer to fig. 50 below and the explanation).

(From Lankester, loc. cit.)
Fig. 13.—Diagrams of the metasternite st, with genital operculum op, and the first lamelligerous pair of appendages ga, with uniting sternal element st of Scorpio (left) and Limulus (right).
(From Lankester, loc. cit.)

2. The Minute Structure of the Central Eyes and of the Lateral Eyes.—Limulus agrees with Scorpio not only in having a pair of central eyes and also lateral eyes, but in the microscopic structure of those organs, which differs in the central and lateral eyes respectively. The central eyes are “simple eyes,” that is to say, have a single lens, and are hence called “monomeniscous.” The lateral eyes are in Limulus “compound eyes,” that is to say, consist of many lenses placed close together; beneath each lens is a complex of protoplasmic cells, in which the optic nerve terminates. Each such unit is termed an “ommatidium.” The lateral eyes of Scorpio consist of groups of separate small lenses each with its ommatidium, but they do not form a continuous compound eye as in Limulus. The ommatidium (soft structure beneath the lens-unit of a compound eye) is very simple in both Scorpio and Limulus. It consists of a single layer of cells, continuous with those which secrete the general chitinous covering of the prosoma. The cells of the ommatidium are a good deal larger than the neighbouring common cells of the epidermis. They secrete the knob-like lens (fig. 22). But they also receive the nerve fibres of the optic nerve. They are at the same time both optic nerve-end cells, that is to say, retina cells, and corneagen cells or secretors of the chitinous lens-like cornea. In Limulus (fig. 23) each ommatidium has a peculiar ganglion cell developed in a central position, whilst the ommatidium of the lateral eyelets of Scorpio shows small intermediate cells between the larger nerve-end cells. The structure of the lateral eye of Limulus was first described by Grenacher, and further and more accurately by Lankester and Bourne (5) and by Watase; that of Scorpio by Lankester and Bourne, who showed that the statements of von Graber were erroneous, and that the lateral eyes of Scorpio have a single cell-layered or “monostichous” ommatidium like that of Limulus. Watase has shown, in a very convincing way, how by deepening the pit-like set of cells beneath a simple lens the more complex ommatidia of the compound eyes of Crustacea and Hexapoda may be derived from such a condition as that presented in the lateral eyes of Limulus and Scorpio. (For details the reader is referred to Watase (11) and to Lankester and Bourne (5).) The structure of the central eyes of Scorpio and spiders and also of Limulus differs essentially from that of the lateral eyes in having two layers of cells (hence called diplostichous) beneath the lens, separated from one another by a membrane (figs. 24 and 25). The upper layer is the corneagen and secretes the lens, the lower is the retinal layer. The mass of soft cell-structures beneath a large lens of a central eye is called an “ommatoeum.” It shows in Scorpio and Limulus a tendency to segregate into minor groups or “ommatidia.” It is found that in embryological growth the retinal layer of the central eyes forms as a separate pouch, which is pushed in laterally beneath the corneagen layer from the epidermic cell layer. Hence it is in origin double, and consists of a true retinal layer and a post-retinal layer (fig. 24, B), though these are not separated by a membrane. Accordingly the diplostichous ommatoeum or soft tissue of the Arachnid’s central eye should strictly be called “triplostichous,” since the deep layer is itself doubled or folded. The retinal cells of both the lateral and central eyes of Limulus and Scorpio produce cuticular structures on their sides; each such piece is a rhabdomere and a number (five or ten) uniting form a rhabdom (fig. 26). In the specialized ommatidia of the compound eyes of Crustacea and Hexapods the rhabdom is an important structure.2 It is a very significant fact that the lateral and central eyes of Limulus and Scorpio not only agree each with each in regard to their monostichous and diplostichous structure, but also in the formation in both classes of eyes of rhabdomeres and rhabdoms in which the component pieces are five or a multiple of five (fig. 26). Whilst each unit of the lateral eye of Limulus has a rhabdom of ten3 pieces 292 forming a star-like chitinous centre in section, each lateral eye of Scorpio has several rhabdoms of five or less rhabdomeres, indicating that the Limulus lateral eye-unit is more specialized than the detached lateral eyelet of Scorpio, so as to present a coincidence of one lens with one rhabdom. Numerous rhabdomeres (grouped as rhabdoms in Limulus) are found in the retinal layer of the central eyes also.

2. The Minute Structure of the Central Eyes and of the Lateral Eyes.—Limulus shares with Scorpio not only a pair of central eyes but also lateral eyes, as well as the microscopic structure of these organs, which differs between the central and lateral eyes. The central eyes are “simple eyes,” meaning they have a single lens, and are therefore referred to as “monomeniscous.” The lateral eyes in Limulus are “compound eyes,” which means they consist of multiple lenses placed closely together; beneath each lens is a complex of protoplasmic cells where the optic nerve terminates. Each of these units is called an “ommatidium.” The lateral eyes of Scorpio are made up of separate small lenses, each with its own ommatidium, but they do not form a continuous compound eye like in Limulus. The ommatidium (the soft structure beneath the lens-unit of a compound eye) is very simple in both Scorpio and Limulus. It consists of a single layer of cells that is continuous with those which secrete the general chitinous covering of the prosoma. The cells of the ommatidium are significantly larger than the nearby general epidermal cells. They secrete the knob-like lens (fig. 22). Additionally, they also receive the nerve fibers from the optic nerve. They act simultaneously as both optic nerve-end cells, meaning retinal cells, and corneagen cells or secretors of the chitinous lens-like cornea. In Limulus (fig. 23), each ommatidium contains a unique ganglion cell in a central position, while the ommatidium of the lateral eyelets of Scorpio features small intermediate cells between the larger nerve-end cells. The structure of the lateral eye of Limulus was first described by Grenacher and then further clarified by Lankester and Bourne (5) and Watase; that of Scorpio was also described by Lankester and Bourne, who demonstrated that von Graber's statements were incorrect, showing that the lateral eyes of Scorpio have a single cell-layered or “monostichous” ommatidium similar to that of Limulus. Watase convincingly illustrated how the deepening of the pit-like cluster of cells beneath a simple lens can lead to the more complex ommatidia of the compound eyes of Crustacea and Hexapoda evolving from the condition found in the lateral eyes of Limulus and Scorpio. (For more details, the reader is directed to Watase (11) and to Lankester and Bourne (5)). The structure of the central eyes in Scorpio, spiders, and Limulus is fundamentally different from that of the lateral eyes, as they have two layers of cells (thus called diplostichous) beneath the lens, separated by a membrane (figs. 24 and 25). The upper layer is the corneagen, which secretes the lens, while the lower layer is the retinal layer. The soft cell mass underneath a large lens of a central eye is referred to as an “ommatoeum.” In both Scorpio and Limulus, it tends to divide into smaller groups or “ommatidia.” In embryological development, the retinal layer of the central eyes forms as a separate pouch that gets pushed in laterally beneath the corneagen layer from the epidermic cell layer. Consequently, it is originarily double, consisting of a true retinal layer and a post-retinal layer (fig. 24, B), although these layers are not separated by a membrane. Therefore, the diplostichous ommatoeum or soft tissue in the central eye of an Arachnid should technically be termed “triplostichous,” since the deeper layer is itself doubled or folded. The retinal cells in both the lateral and central eyes of Limulus and Scorpio produce cuticular structures on their sides; each piece is a rhabdomere, and multiple (five to ten) combined form a rhabdom (fig. 26). In the specialized ommatidia of the compound eyes of Crustacea and Hexapods, the rhabdom is a vital structure.2 It's significant that the lateral and central eyes of Limulus and Scorpio not only match each other in their monostichous and diplostichous structure, but also in producing rhabdomeres and rhabdoms where the components are five or multiples of five (fig. 26). While each unit of the lateral eye of Limulus has a rhabdom of ten3 pieces forming a star-like chitinous center in section, each lateral eye of Scorpio features several rhabdoms with five or fewer rhabdomeres, indicating that the Limulus lateral eye unit is more specialized than the separate lateral eyelet of Scorpio, as it aligns one lens with one rhabdom. Numerous rhabdomeres (grouped as rhabdoms in Limulus) are also present in the retinal layer of the central eyes.

Fig. 14.—The first three pairs of mesosomatic appendages of Scorpio and Limulus compared.

VII, The genital operculum.

VII, The genital operculum.

VIII, The pectens of Scorpio and the first branchial plate of Limulus.

VIII, The pectens of Scorpio and the first gill plate of Limulus.

IX, The first pair of lung-books of Scorpio and the second branchial plate of Limulus.

IX, The first pair of lung books of Scorpio and the second gill plate of Limulus.

gp, Genital pore.

gp, Genital opening.

epst, Epistigmatic sclerite.

epst, Epistigmatic sclerite.

stg, Stigma or orifice of the hollow tendons of the branchial plates of Limulus.

stg, Stigma or opening of the hollow tendons of the gill plates of Limulus.

(After Lankester, loc. cit.)

Whilst Limulus agrees thus closely with Scorpio in regard to the eyes, it is to be noted that no Crustacean has structures corresponding to the peculiar diplostichous central eyes, though these occur again (with differences in detail) in Hexapoda. Possibly, however, an investigation of the development of the median eyes of some Crustacea (Apus, Palaemon) may prove them to be diplostichous in origin.

While Limulus closely resembles Scorpio in terms of the eyes, it's important to note that no Crustacean has structures that correspond to the unique diplostichous central eyes, although these appear again (with some differences) in Hexapoda. However, an exploration of the development of the median eyes in some Crustacea (Apus, Palaemon) might show that they originated as diplostichous.

3. The so-calledCoxal Glands.”—In 1882 (Proc. Roy. Soc. No. 221) Lankester described under the name “coxal glands” a pair of brilliantly white oviform bodies lying in the Scorpion’s prosoma immediately above the coxae of the fifth and sixth pairs of legs (fig. 27). These bodies had been erroneously supposed by Newport (12) and other observers to be glandular outgrowths of the alimentary canal. They are really excretory glands, and communicate with the exterior by a very minute aperture on the posterior face of the coxa of the fifth limb on each side. When examined with the microscope, by means of the usual section method, they are seen to consist of a labyrinthine tube lined with peculiar cells, each cell having a deep vertically striated border on the surface farthest from the lumen, as is seen in the cells of some renal organs. The coils and branches of the tube are packed by connective tissue and blood spaces. A similar pair of coxal glands, lobate instead of ovoid in shape, was described by Lankester in Mygale, and it was also shown by him that the structures in Limulus called “brick-red glands” by Packard have the same structure and position as the coxal glands of Scorpio and Mygale. In Limulus these organs consist each of four horizontal lobes lying on the coxal margin of the second, third, fourth, and fifth prosomatic limbs, the four lobes being connected to one another by a transverse piece or stem (fig. 28). Microscopically their structure is the same in essentials as that of the coxal glands of Scorpio (13). Coxal glands have since been recognized and described in other Arachnida. In 1900 it was shown that the coxal gland of Limulus is provided with a very delicate thin-walled coiled duct which opens, even in the adult condition, by a minute pore on the coxa of the fifth leg (Patten and Hazen, 13A). Previously to this, Lankester’s pupil Gulland had shown (1885) that in the embryo the coxal gland is a comparatively simple tube, which opens to the exterior in this position and by its other extremity into a coelomic space. Similar observations were made by Laurie (17) in Lankester’s laboratory (1890) with regard to the early condition of the coxal gland of Scorpio, and by Bertkau (41) as to that of the spider Atypus. H.M. Bernard (13B) showed that the opening remains in the adult scorpion. In all the embryonic or permanent opening is on the coxa of the fifth pair of prosomatic limbs. Thus an organ newly discovered in Scorpio was found to have its counterpart in Limulus.

3. The so-calledCoxal Glands.” — In 1882 (Proc. Roy. Soc. No. 221), Lankester described a pair of bright white, oval-shaped bodies called “coxal glands,” located in the scorpion’s prosoma right above the coxae of the fifth and sixth pairs of legs (fig. 27). Newport (12) and other researchers mistakenly believed these bodies were glandular outgrowths of the digestive tract. In fact, they are excretory glands that connect to the outside through a very small opening on the back side of the coxa of the fifth limb on each side. When observed under a microscope using standard section techniques, these glands appear to have a complicated tube lined with unique cells, each featuring a deeply vertically striated border on the surface that is farthest from the lumen, similar to cells found in some kidney organs. The coils and branches of the tube are surrounded by connective tissue and blood spaces. Lankester also described a similar pair of coxal glands in Mygale, which are lobed instead of oval. He demonstrated that the structures in Limulus referred to as “brick-red glands” by Packard share the same structure and position as the coxal glands in Scorpio and Mygale. In Limulus, these organs consist of four horizontal lobes positioned along the coxal edge of the second, third, fourth, and fifth prosomatic limbs, with the lobes connected by a transverse piece or stem (fig. 28). Microscopically, their structure is fundamentally the same as that of the coxal glands in Scorpio (13). Since then, coxal glands have been identified and described in other arachnids. In 1900, it was shown that the coxal gland of Limulus has a very delicate, thin-walled coiled duct that opens through a tiny pore on the coxa of the fifth leg, even in adults (Patten and Hazen, 13A). Before this, Lankester’s student Gulland had demonstrated in 1885 that in embryos, the coxal gland is a relatively simple tube that opens to the outside at this location and at its other end into a coelomic space. Similar findings were reported by Laurie (17) in Lankester’s lab in 1890 regarding the early development of the coxal gland in Scorpio, and by Bertkau (41) for the spider Atypus. H.M. Bernard (13B) showed that this opening remains in adult scorpions. In all cases, both the embryonic and permanent openings are located on the coxa of the fifth pair of prosomatic limbs. Therefore, a newly discovered organ in Scorpio was found to have a counterpart in Limulus.

The name “coxal gland” needs to be carefully distinguished from “crural gland,” with which it is apt to be confused. The crural glands, which occur in many terrestrial Arthropods, are epidermal in origin and totally distinct from the coxal glands. The coxal glands of the Arachnida are structures of the same nature as the green glands of the higher Crustacea and the so-called “shell glands” of the Entomostraca. The latter open at the base of the fifth pair of limbs of the Crustacean, just as the coxal glands open on the coxal joint of the fifth pair of limbs of the Arachnid. Both belong to the category of “coelomoducts,” namely, tubular or funnel-like portions of the coelom opening to the exterior in pairs in each somite (potentially,) and usually persisting in only a few somites as either “urocoels” (renal organs) or “gonocoets” (genital tubes). In Peripatus they occur in every somite of the body. They have till recently been very generally identified with the nephridia of Chaetopod worms, but there is good reason for considering the true nephridia (typified by the nephridia of the earthworm) as a distinct class of organs (see Lankester in vol. ii. chap. in. of A Treatise on Zoology, 1900). The genital ducts of Arthropoda are, like the green glands, shell glands and coxal glands, to be regarded as coelomoducts (gonocoels). The coxal glands do not establish any special connexion between Limulus and Scorpio, since they also occur in the same somite in the lower Crustacea, but it is to be noted that the coxal glands of Limulus are in minute structure and probably in function more like those of Arachnids than those of Crustacea.

The term “coxal gland” should be clearly distinguished from “crural gland,” which can easily cause confusion. The crural glands, found in many land-dwelling Arthropods, originate from the epidermis and are completely different from the coxal glands. The coxal glands in Arachnids are similar in structure to the green glands of higher Crustaceans and the so-called “shell glands” of the Entomostraca. The latter open at the base of the fifth pair of limbs in Crustaceans, just like the coxal glands open at the coxal joint of the fifth pair of limbs in Arachnids. Both belong to the category of “coelomoducts,” which are tubular or funnel-like parts of the coelom that open to the outside in pairs in each segment (potentially), but usually only persist in a few segments as either “urocoels” (renal organs) or “gonocoels” (genital tubes). In Peripatus, they are present in every segment of the body. Until recently, they have often been associated with the nephridia of Chaetopod worms, but there are good reasons to consider true nephridia (like those in earthworms) as a separate type of organ (see Lankester in vol. ii. chap. in. of A Treatise on Zoology, 1900). The genital ducts of Arthropoda, like the green glands, shell glands, and coxal glands, should also be regarded as coelomoducts (gonocoels). The coxal glands do not create any special connection between Limulus and Scorpio, since they also exist in the same segment in lower Crustaceans, but it’s worth mentioning that the coxal glands of Limulus are minute in structure and probably function more like those of Arachnids than those of Crustaceans.

Fig. 15.—The remaining three pairs of mesosomatic appendages of Scorpio and Limulus. Letters as in fig. 14. l130 indicates that there are 130 lamellae in the scorpion’s lung-book, whilst l150 indicates that 150 similar lamellae are counted in the gill of Limulus.
(After Lankester, loc. cit.)

4. The Entosternites and their Minute Structure.—Strauss-Dürckheim (1) was the first to insist on the affinity between Limulus and the Arachnids, indicated by the presence of a free suspended entosternum or plastron or entosternite in both. We have figured here (figs. 1 to 6) the entosternites of Limulus, Scorpio and Mygale. Lankester some years ago made a special study of the histology (3) of these entosternites for the purpose of comparison, and also ascertained the relations of the very numerous muscles which are inserted into them (4). The entosternites are cartilaginous in texture, but they have neither the chemical character nor the microscopic structure of the hyaline cartilage of Vertebrates. They yield chitin in place of chondrin or gelatin—as does also the cartilage of the Cephalopod’s endoskeleton. In microscopic structure they all present the closest agreement with one another. We find a firm, homogeneous or sparsely fibrillated matrix in which are embedded nucleated cells (corpuscles of protoplasm) arranged in rows of three, six or eight, parallel with the adjacent lines of fibrillation.

4. The Entosternites and their Minute Structure.—Strauss-Dürckheim (1) was the first to emphasize the connection between Limulus and Arachnids, shown by the presence of a free suspended entosternum or plastron or entosternite in both. We have illustrated here (figs. 1 to 6) the entosternites of Limulus, Scorpio, and Mygale. Lankester conducted a detailed study of the histology (3) of these entosternites some years ago for comparison purposes and also examined the relationships of the many muscles that are attached to them (4). The entosternites have a cartilaginous texture, but they lack the chemical composition and microscopic structure of the hyaline cartilage found in Vertebrates. Instead of chondrin or gelatin, they produce chitin, similar to the cartilage of the Cephalopod’s endoskeleton. In terms of microscopic structure, they all closely resemble each other. We observe a solid, homogeneous or loosely fibrillated matrix containing nucleated cells (protoplasm corpuscles) organized in rows of three, six, or eight, aligned with the nearby lines of fibrillation.

Fig. 16.—Diagram to show the way in which an outgrowing gill-process bearing blood-holding lamellae, may give rise, if the sternal body wall sinks inwards, to a lung-chamber with air-holding lamellae.

Fig. 16.—Diagram showing how an outgrowing gill process with blood-holding lamellae can form a lung chamber with air-holding lamellae if the sternal body wall sinks inward.

I is the embryonic condition.

I is the initial state.

bs, Blood sinus.

bs, Blood vessel cavity.

L is the condition of outgrowth with gl, gill lamellae.

L is the condition of growth with gl, gill lamellae.

A is the condition of in-sinking of the sternal surface and consequent enclosure of the lamelligerous surface of the appendage in a chamber with narrow orifice—the pulmonary air-holding chamber.

A is the condition of sinking in of the chest surface and the resulting enclosure of the flat surface of the appendage in a chamber with a narrow opening—the pulmonary air-holding chamber.

pl, Pulmonary lamellae.

Pulmonary layers.

bs, Blood sinus.

bs, blood cavity.


(After Kingsley.)

(After Kingsley.)

Fig. 17.—Embryo of scorpion, ventral view showing somites and appendages.

Fig. 17.—Embryo of scorpion, ventral view showing body segments and appendages.

sgc, Frontal groove.

sgc, Front groove.

sa, Rudiment of lateral eyes.

sa, Basic lateral eye structure.

obl, Camerostome (upper lip).

obl, Camerostome (top lip).

so, Sense-organ of Patten.

so, Sense organ of Patten.

PrGabp1, Rudiment of the appendage of the praegenital somite which disappears.

PrGabp1, Basic part of the appendage of the pre-genital somite that fades away.

abp2, Rudiment of the right half of the genital operculum.

abp2, Basic part of the right side of the genital cover.

abp3, Rudiment of the right pecten.

abp3, Basis of the right pecten.

abp4 to abp7. Rudiments of the four appendages which carry the pulmonary lamellae.

abp4 to abp7. Basics of the four appendages that support the lung tissue.

I to VI, Rudiments of the six limbs of the prosoma.

I to VI, Basics of the six parts of the prosoma.

VIIPrG, The evanescent praegenital somite.

VIIPrG, The fleeting praegenital somite.

VIII, The first mesosomatic somite or genital somite.

VIII, The first mesosomatic segment or genital segment.

IX, The second mesosomatic somite or pectiniferous somite.

IX, The second mesosomatic somite or pectiniferous somite.

X to XIII, The four pulmoniferous somites.

X to XIII, The four lung-bearing segments.

XIV, The first metasomatic somite.

XIV, The first metasomatic segment.


(After Brauer, Zeitsch. wiss. Zool., vol. lix., 1895.)


(After Brauer, Zeitsch. wiss. Zool., vol. 59, 1895.)

A minute entosternite having the above-described structure is found in the Crustacean Apus between the bases of the mandibles, and also in the Decapoda in a similar position, but in no Crustacean does it attain to any size or importance. On the other hand, the entosternite of the Arachnida is a very large and important feature 293 in the structure of the prosoma, and must play an important part in the economy of these organisms. In Limulus (figs. 1 and 2) it has as many as twenty-five pairs of muscles attached to it, coming to it from the bases of the surrounding limbs and from the dorsal carapace and from the pharynx. It consists of an oblong plate 2 in. in length and 1 in breadth, with a pair of tendinous outgrowths standing out from it at right angles on each side. It “floats” between the prosomatic nerve centres and the alimentary canal. In each somite of the mesosoma is a small, free entosternite having a similar position, but below or ventral to the nerve cords, and having a smaller number of muscles attached to it. The entosternite was probably in origin part of the fibrous connective tissue lying close to the integument of the sternal surface—giving attachment to muscles corresponding more or less to those at present attached to it. It became isolated and detached, why or with what advantage to the organism it is difficult to say, and at that period of Arachnidan development the great ventral nerve cords occupied a more lateral position than they do at present. We know that such a lateral position of the nerve cords preceded the median position in both Arthropoda and Chaetopoda. Subsequently to the floating off of the entosternite the approximation of the nerve cords took place in the prosoma, and thus they were able to take up a position below the entosternite. In the mesosoma the approximation had occurred before the entosternites were formed.

A small entosternite with the structure described above is found in the crustacean Apus between the bases of the mandibles and also in decapods in a similar position, but it doesn’t grow to any significant size or importance in any crustacean. In contrast, the entosternite of arachnids is a very large and important feature in the structure of the prosoma, and it likely plays a crucial role in the biology of these organisms. In Limulus (figs. 1 and 2), it has as many as twenty-five pairs of muscles attached to it, coming from the bases of the surrounding limbs as well as from the dorsal carapace and the pharynx. It consists of an oblong plate 2 inches long and 1 inch wide, with a pair of tendinous protrusions extending perpendicularly on each side. It “floats” between the central nerve centers of the prosoma and the digestive tract. In each segment of the mesosoma, there is a small, free entosternite positioned similarly, but below or ventral to the nerve cords and with fewer muscles attached to it. The entosternite probably originated as part of the fibrous connective tissue located close to the outer layer of the sternal surface, providing attachment to muscles similar to those currently connected to it. It became isolated and detached, and it is unclear why or what benefit that provided to the organism. During that stage of arachnid development, the large ventral nerve cords were positioned more laterally than they are now. We know that a lateral position of the nerve cords preceded the median position in both arthropods and chaetognaths. After the entosternite detached, the nerve cords in the prosoma moved closer together, allowing them to settle below the entosternite. In the mesosoma, the nerve cords had already come closer together before the entosternites formed.

Fig. 18.—Portion of a similar embryo at a later stage of growth. The praegenital somite, VII PrG, is still present, but has lost its rudimentary appendages; go, the genital operculum, left half; Km, the left pecten; abp4 to abp7, the rudimentary appendages of the lung-sacs.
(After Brauer, loc. cit.)
Fig. 19.—Section through an early embryo of Limulus longispina, showing seven transverse divisions in the region of the unsegmented anterior carapace. The seventh, VII, is anterior to the genital operculum, op, and is the cavity of the praegenital somite which is more or less completely suppressed in subsequent development, possibly indicated by the area marked VII in fig. 7 and by the great entopophyses of the prosomatic carapace.
(After Kishinouye, Journ. Sci. Coll. Japan, vol. v., 1892.)

In the scorpion (figs. 3 and 4) the entosternite has tough membrane-like outgrowths which connect it with the body-wall, both dorsally and ventrally forming an oblique diaphragm, cutting off the cavity of the prosoma from that of the mesosoma. It was described by Newport as “the diaphragm.” Only the central and horizontal parts of this structure correspond precisely to the entosternite of Limulus: the right and left anterior processes (marked ap in figs. 3 and 4, and RAP, LAP, in figs. 1 and 2) correspond in the two animals, and the median lateral process lmp of the scorpion represents the tendinous outgrowths ALR, PLR of Limulus. The scorpion’s entosternite gives rise to outgrowths, besides the great posterior flaps, pf, which form the diaphragm, unrepresented in Limulus. These are a ventral arch forming a neural canal through which the great nerve cords pass (figs. 3 and 4, snp), and further a dorsal gastric canal and arterial canal which transmit the alimentary tract and the dorsal artery respectively (figs. 3 and 4, GC, DR).

In the scorpion (figs. 3 and 4), the entosternite has tough, membrane-like extensions that connect it to the body wall, creating an oblique diaphragm both on the top and bottom, separating the cavity of the prosoma from that of the mesosoma. Newport referred to it as “the diaphragm.” Only the central and horizontal sections of this structure match exactly with the entosternite of Limulus: the right and left anterior processes (marked ap in figs. 3 and 4, and RAP, LAP, in figs. 1 and 2) correspond between the two species, and the median lateral process lmp of the scorpion is equivalent to the tendinous extensions ALR, PLR of Limulus. The scorpion’s entosternite leads to extensions, in addition to the large posterior flaps, pf, which form the diaphragm that isn’t present in Limulus. These include a ventral arch that creates a neural canal through which the major nerve cords pass (figs. 3 and 4, snp), as well as a dorsal gastric canal and arterial canal that carry the digestive tract and dorsal artery, respectively (figs. 3 and 4, GC, DR).

In Limulus small entosternites are found in each somite of the appendage-bearing mesosoma, and we find in Scorpio, in the only somite of the mesosoma which has a well-developed pair of appendages, that of the pectens, a small entosternite with ten pairs of muscles inserted into it. The supra-pectinal entosternite lies ventral to the nerve cords.

In Limulus, small inner sternites are found in each segment of the appendage-bearing mesosoma, and in Scorpio, in the only segment of the mesosoma that has a well-developed pair of appendages, the pectens, there’s a small inner sternite with ten pairs of muscles attached to it. The supra-pectinal inner sternite is located below the nerve cords.

In Mygale (figs. 5 and 6) the form of the entosternite is more like that of Limulus than is that of Scorpio. The anterior notch Ph.N. is similar to that in Limulus, whilst the imbricate triangular pieces of the posterior median region resemble the similarly-placed structures of Limulus in a striking manner.

In Mygale (figs. 5 and 6), the entosternite shape is more similar to Limulus than to Scorpio. The front notch Ph.N. is like the one in Limulus, while the overlapping triangular pieces in the back middle section closely resemble those in Limulus as well.

It must be confessed that we are singularly ignorant as to the functional significance of these remarkable organs—the entosternites. Their movement in an upward or downward direction in Limulus and Mygale must exert a pumping action on the blood contained in the dorsal arteries and the ventral veins respectively. In Scorpio the completion of the horizontal plate by oblique naps, so as to form an actual diaphragm shutting off the cavity of the prosoma from the rest of the body, possibly gives to the organs contained in the anterior chamber a physiological advantage in respect of the supply of arterial blood and its separation from the venous blood of the mesosoma. Possibly the movement of the diaphragm may determine the passage of air into or out of the lung-sacs. Muscular fibres connected with the suctorial pharynx are in Limulus inserted into the entosternite, and the activity of the two organs may be correlated.

It must be admitted that we are quite clueless about the functional importance of these remarkable organs—the entosternites. Their movement up or down in Limulus and Mygale likely creates a pumping action on the blood in the dorsal arteries and ventral veins, respectively. In Scorpio, the completion of the horizontal plate with oblique naps forms a diaphragm that separates the cavity of the prosoma from the rest of the body, which may give the organs in the anterior chamber a physiological advantage in terms of arterial blood supply and its separation from the venous blood of the mesosoma. The movement of the diaphragm might also control the airflow into and out of the lung-sacs. Muscular fibers connected to the suctorial pharynx in Limulus are attached to the entosternite, suggesting that the activity of the two organs could be linked.

5. The Blood and the Blood-vascular System.—The blood fluids of Limulus and Scorpio are very similar. Not only are the blood corpuscles of Limulus more like in form and granulation to those of Scorpio than to those of any Crustacean, but the fluid is in both animals strongly impregnated with the blue-coloured respiratory proteid, haemocyanin. This body occurs also in the blood of Crustacea and of Molluscs, but its abundance in both Limulus and Scorpio is very marked, and gives to the freshly-shed blood a strong indigo-blue tint.

5. The Blood and the Blood-vascular System.—The blood of Limulus and Scorpio is very similar. The blood cells of Limulus are not only shaped and granular like those of Scorpio, but they're also more similar than any Crustacean. In both animals, the blood is heavily enriched with the blue-colored respiratory protein, hemocyanin. This protein is also found in the blood of Crustaceans and Mollusks, but it's particularly abundant in Limulus and Scorpio, giving their freshly shed blood a vivid indigo-blue color.

 

Fig. 20.—View of the ventral surface of the mid-line of the prosomatic region of Limulus polyphemus. The coxae of the five pairs of limbs following the chelicerae were arranged in a series on each side between the mouth, M, and the metasternites, mets.

sf, The sub-frontal median sclerite.

sf, The sub-frontal median sclerite.

Ch, The chelicerae.

Ch, The chelicerae.

cam, The camerostome or upper lip.

cam, the upper lip.

M, The mouth.

M, The mouth.

pmst, The promesosternal sclerite of chitinous plate, unpaired.

pmst, The promesosternal sclerite is a single chitinous plate.

mets, The right and left metasternites (corresponding to the similarly placed pentagonal sternite of Scorpio). Natural size.

mets, The right and left metasternites (corresponding to the similarly placed pentagonal sternite of Scorpio). Natural size.

(After Lankester.)

 

Fig. 2l.—Development of the lateral eyes of a scorpion. h, Epidermic cell-layer; mes, mesoblastic connective tissue; n, nerves; II, III, IV, V, depressions of the epidermis in each of which a cuticular lens will be formed.
(From Korschelt and Heider, after Laurie.)

 

Fig. 22.—Section through the lateral eye of Euscorpius italicus.

lens, Cuticular lens.

lens, Cuticular lens.

nerv c, Retinal cells (nerve-end cells).

nerv c, Retinal cells (nerve-ending cells).

rhabd, Rhabdomes.

rhabd, Rhabdomes.

nerv f, Nerve fibres of the optic nerve.

nerv f, Nerve fibers of the optic nerve.

int, Intermediate cells (lying between the bases of the retinal cells).

int, Intermediate cells (located between the bases of the retinal cells).

(After Lankester and Bourne from Parker and Habwell’s Text book of Zoology, Macmillan & Co.)

 

Fig. 23.—Section through a portion of the lateral eye of Limulus, showing three ommatidia—A, B and C. hyp, The epidermic cell-layer (so-called hypodermis), the cells of which increase in volume below each lens, l, and become nerve-end cells or retinula-cells, rt; in A, the letters rh point to a rhabdomere secreted by the cell rt; c, the peculiar central spherical cell; n, nerve fibres; mes, mesoblastic skeletal tissue; ch, chitinous cuticle.
(From Korschelt and Heider after Watase.)

The great dorsal contractile vessel or “heart” of Limulus is closely similar to that of Scorpio; its ostia or incurrent orifices are placed in the same somites as those of Scorpio, but there is one additional posterior pair. The origin of the paired arteries from the 294 heart differs in Limulus from the arrangement obtaining in Scorpio, in that a pair of lateral commissural arteries exist in Limulus (as described by Alphonse Milne-Edwards (6)) leading to a suppression of the more primitive direct connexion of the four pairs of posterior lateral arteries and of the great median posterior arteries with the heart itself (fig. 29). The arterial system is very completely developed in both Limulus and Scorpio, branching repeatedly until minute arterioles are formed, not to be distinguished from true capillaries; these open into irregular swollen vessels which are the veins or venous sinuses. A very remarkable feature in Limulus, first described by Owen, is the close accompaniment of the prosomatic nerve centres and nerves by arteries, so close indeed that the great ganglion mass and its out-running nerves are actually sunk in or invested by arteries. The connexion is not so intimate in Scorpio, but is nevertheless a very close one, closer than we find in any other Arthropods in which the arterial system is well developed, e.g. the Myriapoda and some of the arthrostracous Crustacea. It seems that there is a primitive tendency in the Arthropoda for the arteries to accompany the nerve cords, and a “supra-spinal” artery—that is to say, an artery in close relation to the ventral nerve cords—has been described in several cases. On the other hand, in many Arthropods, especially those which possess tracheae, the arteries do not have a long course, but soon open into wide blood sinuses. Scorpio certainly comes nearer to Limulus in the high development of its arterial system, and the intimate relation of the anterior aorta and its branches to the nerve centres and great nerves, than does any other Arthropod.

The large dorsal contracting vessel, or “heart,” of Limulus is very similar to that of Scorpio. Its ostia, or incoming openings, are located in the same body segments as those of Scorpio, but there is an extra pair at the back. The way the paired arteries originate from the 294 heart in Limulus differs from Scorpio; Limulus has a pair of lateral commissural arteries (as described by Alphonse Milne-Edwards (6)), which means there’s a reduction in the more primitive direct connection of the four pairs of posterior lateral arteries and the large median posterior arteries with the heart itself (fig. 29). The arterial system is well-developed in both Limulus and Scorpio, branching repeatedly until tiny arterioles form that are indistinguishable from true capillaries. These connect to irregularly shaped swollen vessels, which are the veins or venous sinuses. A noteworthy aspect of Limulus, first noted by Owen, is that the prosomatic nerve centers and nerves are closely accompanied by arteries—so much so that the large ganglion mass and its branching nerves are actually surrounded by arteries. While the connection is not as close in Scorpio, it is still significant, more so than in any other well-developed Arthropod arterial system, like the Myriapoda and certain arthrostracous Crustacea. It appears there is a primitive tendency in Arthropods for arteries to follow the nerve cords, and a “supra-spinal” artery—one that runs closely with the ventral nerve cords—has been reported in several instances. Conversely, in many Arthropods, particularly those with tracheae, arteries do not travel long distances but instead quickly open into broad blood sinuses. Scorpio certainly resembles Limulus more closely due to the advanced development of its arterial system and the close relationship between the anterior aorta and its branches with the nerve centers and major nerves, more than any other Arthropod.

An arrangement of great functional importance in regard to the venous system must now be described, which was shown in 1883 by Lankester to be common to Limulus and Scorpio. This arrangement has not hitherto been detected in any other class than the Arachnida, and if it should ultimately prove to be peculiar to that group, would have considerable weight as a proof of the close genetic affinity of Limulus and Scorpio.

A key arrangement related to the venous system needs to be discussed, which was identified in 1883 by Lankester as being common to Limulus and Scorpio. So far, this arrangement hasn't been found in any class other than Arachnida, and if it turns out to be unique to that group, it would strongly support the idea that Limulus and Scorpio are closely genetically related.

Fig. 24.—Diagrams of the development and adult structure of one of the paired central eyes of a scorpion.

A, Early condition before the lens is deposited, showing the folding of the epidermic cell-layer into three.

A, Early condition before the lens is laid down, showing the folding of the outer cell layer into three.

B, Diagram showing the nature of this infolding.

B, Diagram showing the nature of this infolding.

C, Section through the fully formed eye.

C, Section through the fully formed eye.

h, Epidermic cell-layer.

h, Skin cell layer.

r, The retinal portion of the same which, owing to the infolding, lies between gl, the corneagen or lens-forming portion, and pr, the post-retinal or capsular portion or fold.

r, The retinal part of the same that, due to the infolding, is located between gl, the cornea or lens-forming part, and pr, the post-retinal or capsular part or fold.

l, Cuticular lens.

Cuticular lens.

g, Line separating lens from the lens-forming or corneagen cells of the epidermis.

g, Line that separates the lens from the lens-forming or corneagen cells of the skin's outer layer.

n, Nerve fibres.

Nerve fibers.

rh, Rhabdomeres.

rh, Rhabdomeres.

[How the inversion of the nerve-end-cells and their connexion with the nerve-fibres is to be reconciled with the condition found in the adult, or with that of the monostichous eye, has not hitherto been explained.]
(From Korschelt and Heider.)

The great pericardial sinus is strongly developed in both animals. Its walls are fibrous and complete, and it holds a considerable volume of blood when the heart itself is contracted. Opening in pairs in each somite, right and left into the pericardial sinus are large veins, which bring the blood respectively from the gill-books and the lung-books to that chamber, whence it passes by the ostia into the heart. The blood is brought to the respiratory organs in both cases by a great venous collecting sinus having a ventral median position. In both animals the wall of the pericardial sinus is connected by vertical muscular bands to the wall of the ventral venous sinus (its lateral expansions around the lung-books in Scorpio) in each somite through which the pericardium passes. There are seven pairs of these veno-pericardiac vertical muscles in Scorpio, and eight in Limulus (see figs. 30, 31, 32). It is obvious that the contraction of these muscles 295 must cause a depression of the floor of the pericardium and a rising of the roof of the ventral blood sinus, and a consequent increase of volume and flow of blood to each. Whether the pericardium and the ventral sinus are made to expand simultaneously or all the movement is made by one only of the surfaces concerned, must depend on conditions of tension. In any case it is clear that we have in these muscles an apparatus for causing the blood to flow differentially in increased volume into either the pericardium, through the veins leading from the respiratory organs, or from the body generally into the great sinuses which bring the blood to the respiratory organs. These muscles act so as to pump the blood through the respiratory organs.

The great pericardial sinus is well-developed in both animals. Its walls are fibrous and intact, and it contains a significant amount of blood when the heart is contracted. Large veins open in pairs on each side of every segment, bringing blood from the gill-books and the lung-books into this chamber, from which it moves through the ostia into the heart. In both cases, blood is transported to the respiratory organs by a large venous collecting sinus located medially on the underside. In both animals, the wall of the pericardial sinus is connected by vertical muscular bands to the wall of the ventral venous sinus (its lateral expansions around the lung-books in Scorpio) in each segment that the pericardium passes through. Scorpio has seven pairs of these veno-pericardiac vertical muscles, while Limulus has eight (see figs. 30, 31, 32). It's clear that when these muscles contract, they cause the floor of the pericardium to depress and the roof of the ventral blood sinus to rise, resulting in increased volume and blood flow to each. Whether the pericardium and the ventral sinus expand at the same time or if only one surface causes all the movement depends on tension conditions. In any case, it's evident that these muscles create a mechanism to direct more blood into either the pericardium through the veins from the respiratory organs or from the body overall into the large sinuses transporting blood to the respiratory organs. These muscles function to pump blood through the respiratory organs.

Fig. 25.—Section through one of the central eyes of a young Limulus.

L, Cuticular or corneous lens.

L, Cuticle or corneal lens.

hy, Epidermic cell-layer.

hi, Skin cell layer.

corn, Its corneagen portion immediately underlying the lens.

corn, Its corneal portion directly beneath the lens.

ret, Retinula cells.

ret, Retinal cells.

nf, Nerve fibres.

Nerve fibers.

con. tiss, Connective tissue (mesoblastic skeletal tissue).

con. tiss, Connective tissue (mesoblastic skeletal tissue).

(After Lankester and Bourne, Q. J. Mic. Sci., 1883.)

It is not surprising that with so highly developed an arterial system Limulus and Scorpio should have a highly developed mechanism for determining the flow of blood to the respiratory organs. That this is, so to speak, a need of animals with localized respiratory organs is seen by the existence of provisions serving a similar purpose in other animals, e.g. the branchial hearts of the Cephalopoda.

It’s not surprising that with such an advanced arterial system, Limulus and Scorpio have a sophisticated way to regulate blood flow to their respiratory organs. This need for animals with specialized respiratory organs is also reflected in other species, like the branchial hearts of Cephalopoda.

The veno-pericardiac muscles of Scorpio were seen and figured by Newport but not described by him. Those of Limulus were described and figured by Alphonse Milne-Edwards, but he called them merely “transparent ligaments,” and did not discover their muscular structure. They are figured and their importance for the first time recognized in the memoir on the muscular and skeletal systems of Limulus and Scorpio by Lankester, Beck and Bourne (4).

The veno-pericardiac muscles of Scorpio were observed and illustrated by Newport but he didn't provide a description. The ones in Limulus were described and depicted by Alphonse Milne-Edwards, who referred to them simply as “transparent ligaments,” failing to identify their muscular structure. They are illustrated and their significance is acknowledged for the first time in the paper on the muscular and skeletal systems of Limulus and Scorpio by Lankester, Beck, and Bourne (4).

6. Alimentary Canal and Gastric Glands.—The alimentary canal in Scorpio, as in Limulus, is provided with a powerful suctorial pharynx, in the working of which extrinsic muscles take a part. The mouth is relatively smaller in Scorpio than in Limulus—in fact is minute, as it is in all the terrestrial Arachnida which suck the juices of either animals or plants. In both, the alimentary canal takes a straight course from the pharynx (which bends under it downwards and backwards towards the mouth in Limulus) to the anus, and is a simple, narrow, cylindrical tube (fig. 33). The only point in which the gut of Limulus resembles that of Scorpio rather than that of any of the Crustacea, is in possessing more than a single pair of ducts or lateral outgrowths connected with ramified gastric glands or gastric caeca. Limulus has two pairs of these, Scorpio as many as six pairs. The Crustacea never have more than one pair. The minute microscopic structure of the gastric glands in the two animals is practically identical. The functions of these gastric diverticula have never been carefully investigated. It is very probable that in Scorpio they do not serve merely to secrete a digestive fluid (shown in other Arthropoda to resemble the pancreatic fluid), but that they also become distended by the juices of the prey sucked in by the scorpion—as certainly must occur in the case of the simple unbranched gastric caeca of the spiders.

6. Alimentary Canal and Gastric Glands.—The alimentary canal in Scorpio, like in Limulus, has a strong suction pharynx, which is aided by external muscles. The mouth is relatively smaller in Scorpio compared to Limulus—in fact, it's tiny, similar to all the land Arachnida that suck the juices of either animals or plants. In both cases, the alimentary canal runs straight from the pharynx (which bends downward and backward towards the mouth in Limulus) to the anus and is a simple, narrow, cylindrical tube (fig. 33). The only aspect in which Limulus's gut is similar to Scorpio's rather than that of other Crustacea is its multiple pairs of ducts or side outgrowths connected with branched gastric glands or gastric caeca. Limulus has two pairs of these, while Scorpio has up to six pairs. Crustacea typically have no more than one pair. The tiny microscopic structure of the gastric glands in both animals is almost identical. The roles of these gastric diverticula haven't been thoroughly studied. It's very likely that in Scorpio, they don't just produce a digestive fluid (which other Arthropoda show to be similar to pancreatic fluid) but also fill with the juices of the prey sucked in by the scorpion—just as must happen with the simple unbranched gastric caeca of spiders.

The most important difference which exists between the structure of Limulus and that of Scorpio is found in the hinder region of the alimentary canal. Scorpio is here provided with a single or double pair of renal excretory tubes, which have been identified by earlier authors with the Malpighian tubes of the Hexapod and Myriapod insects. Limulus is devoid of any such tubes. We shall revert to this subject below.

The main difference between the structure of Limulus and Scorpio is in the back part of the digestive system. Scorpio has one or two pairs of renal excretory tubes, which earlier researchers identified as similar to the Malpighian tubes in Hexapod and Myriapod insects. Limulus, on the other hand, does not have these tubes. We'll discuss this topic further below.

Fig. 26.

A, Diagram of a retinula of the central eye of a scorpion consisting of five retina-cells (ret), with adherent branched pigment cells (pig).

A, Diagram of a retinula of the central eye of a scorpion made up of five retina cells (ret), with attached branched pigment cells (pig).

B, Rhabdom of the same, consisting of five confluent rhabdomeres.

B, Rhabdom of the same, made up of five connected rhabdomeres.

C, Transverse section of the rhabdom of a retinula of the scorpion’s central eye, showing its five constituent rhabdomeres as rays of a star.

C, Cross-section of the rhabdom of a retinula from the scorpion’s central eye, displaying its five individual rhabdomeres like rays of a star.

D, Transverse section of a retinula of the lateral eye of Limulus, showing ten retinula cells (ret), each bearing a rhabdomere (rhab).

D, Transverse section of a retinula of the lateral eye of Limulus, showing ten retinula cells (ret), each with a rhabdomere (rhab).

(After Lankester.)

 



Fig. 27.—Diagram showing the position of the coxal glands of a scorpion, Buthus australis, Lin., in relation to the legs, diaphragm (entosternal flap), and the gastric caeca.

1 to 6, The bases of the six prosomatic limbs.

1 to 6, The bases of the six prosomatic limbs.

A, prosomatic gastric gland (sometimes called salivary).

A prosomatic gastric gland (sometimes called salivary).

B, Coxal gland.

B, Coxal gland.

C, Diaphragm of Newport = fibrous flap of the entosternum.

C, Diaphragm of Newport = fibrous flap of the entosternum.

D, Mesosomatic gastric caeca (so-called liver).

D, Mesosomatic gastric caeca (also known as liver).

E, Alimentary canal.

E, Digestive tract.

(From Lankester, Q. J. Mic. Sci., vol. xxiv. N.S. p. 152.)

7. Ovaries and Spermaries: Gonocoels and Gonoducts.—The scorpion is remarkable for having the specialized portion of coelom from the walls of which egg-cells or sperm-cells are developed according to sex, in the form of a simple but extensive network. It is not a pair of simple tubes, nor of dendriform tubes, but a closed network. The same fact is true of Limulus, as was shown by Owen (7) in regard to the ovary, and by Benham (14) in regard to the testis. This is a very definite and remarkable agreement, since such a reticular gonocoel is not found in Crustacea (except in the male Apus). Moreover, there is a significant agreement in the character of the spermatozoa of Limulus and Scorpio. The Crustacea are—with the exception of the Cirrhipedia—remarkable for having stiff, motionless spermatozoids. In Limulus Lankester found (15) the spermatozoa to possess active flagelliform “tails,” and to resemble very closely those of Scorpio which, as are those of most terrestrial Arthropoda, are actively motile. This is a microscopic point of agreement, but is none the less significant.

7. Ovaries and Spermaries: Gonocoels and Gonoducts.—The scorpion is notable for having a specialized part of its coelom from which egg cells or sperm cells develop based on sex, forming a simple yet extensive network. It isn’t just a pair of simple tubes or branched tubes, but a closed network. The same is true for Limulus, as shown by Owen (7) regarding the ovary, and by Benham (14) concerning the testis. This is a clear and significant similarity, as such a reticular gonocoel isn’t found in Crustacea (except in the male Apus). Additionally, there is a notable similarity in the characteristics of the spermatozoa of Limulus and Scorpio. Crustacea—except for the Cirrhipedia—are known for having stiff, motionless spermatozoids. In Limulus, Lankester found (15) that the spermatozoa have active flagelliform “tails” and closely resemble those of Scorpio, which, like most land Arthropoda, are actively motile. This is a minute point of agreement, but it is still significant.

In regard to the important structures concerned with the fertilization of the egg, Limulus and Scorpio differ entirely from one another. 296 The eggs of Limulus are fertilized in the sea after they have been laid. Scorpio, being a terrestrial animal, fertilizes by copulation. The male possesses elaborate copulatory structures of a chitinous nature, and the eggs are fertilized in the female without even quitting the place where they are formed on the wall of the reticular gonocoel. The female scorpion is viviparous, and the young are produced in a highly developed condition as fully formed scorpions.

When it comes to the key structures involved in egg fertilization, Limulus and Scorpio are completely different. 296 Limulus eggs are fertilized in the sea after being laid. Scorpio, as a land-dwelling creature, fertilizes through mating. The male has complex copulatory structures made of chitin, and the eggs are fertilized inside the female without leaving the spot where they form on the wall of the reticular gonocoel. The female scorpion gives birth to live young, which are born fully developed as complete scorpions.



Fig. 28.—The right coxal gland of Limulus polyphemus, Latr.

a2 to a5, Posterior borders of the chitinous bases of the coxae of the second, third, fourth and fifth prosomatic limbs.

a2 to a5, Back edges of the hard bases of the hips of the second, third, fourth, and fifth front limbs.

b, Longitudinal lobe or stolon of the coxal gland.

b, Longitudinal lobe or stalk of the coxal gland.

c. Its four transverse lobes or outgrowths corresponding to the four coxae.

c. Its four side lobes or extensions correspond to the four coxae.

(From Lankester, loc. cit., after Packard.)

Differences between Limulus and Scorpio.—We have now passed in review the principal structural features in which Limulus agrees with Scorpio and differs from other Arthropoda. There remains for consideration the one important structural difference between the two animals. Limulus agrees with the majority of the Crustacea in being destitute of renal excretory caeca or tubes opening into the hinder part of the gut. Scorpio, on the other hand, in common with all air-breathing Arthropoda except Peripatus, possesses these tubules, which are often called Malpighian tubes. A great deal has been made of this difference by some writers. It has been considered by them as proving that Limulus, in spite of all its special agreements with Scorpio (which, however, have scarcely been appreciated by the writers in question), really belongs to the Crustacean line of descent, whilst Scorpio, by possessing Malpighian tubes, is declared to be unmistakably tied together with the other Arachnida to the tracheate Arthropods, the Hexapods, Diplopods, and Chilopods, which all possess Malpighian tubes.

Differences between Limulus and Scorpio.—We have now reviewed the main structural features where Limulus aligns with Scorpio and differs from other Arthropods. One significant structural difference between the two animals still needs to be discussed. Limulus shares with most Crustacea the absence of renal excretory caeca or tubes that open into the back part of the gut. Scorpio, however, like all air-breathing Arthropods except Peripatus, has these tubes, commonly known as Malpighian tubes. Some writers have emphasized this difference significantly. They argue that this proves Limulus, despite its many similarities to Scorpio (which are barely acknowledged by these writers), actually belongs to the Crustacean lineage, while Scorpio, due to having Malpighian tubes, is clearly connected with other Arachnida and the tracheate Arthropods, such as Hexapods, Diplopods, and Chilopods, all of which also have Malpighian tubes.



Fig. 29.—Diagram of the arterial system of A, Scorpio, and B, Limulus. The Roman numerals indicate the body somites and the two figures are adjusted for comparison. ce, Cerebral arteries; sp, supra-spinal or medullary artery; c, caudal artery; l, lateral anastomotic artery of Limulus. The figure B also shows the peculiar neural investiture formed by the cerebral arteries in Limulus and the derivation from this of the arteries to the limbs, III, IV, VI, whereas in Scorpio the latter have a separate origin from the anterior aorta.
From Lankester, “Limulus an Arachnid.”

It must be pointed out that the presence or absence of such renal excretory tubes opening into the intestine appears to be a question of adaptation to the changed physiological conditions of respiration, and not of morphological significance, since a pair of renal excretory tubes of this nature is found in certain Amphipod Crustacea (Talorchestia, &c.) which have abandoned a purely aquatic life. This view has been accepted and supported by Professors Korschelt and Heider (16). An important fact in its favour was discovered by Laurie (17), who investigated the embryology of two species of Scorpio under Lankester’s direction. It appears that the Malpighian tubes of Scorpio are developed from the mesenteron, viz. that portion of the gut which is formed by the hypoblast, whereas in Hexapod insects the similar caecal tubes are developed from the proctodaeum or in-pushed portion of the gut which is formed from epiblast. In fact it is not possible to maintain that the renal excretory tubes of the gut are of one common origin in the Arthropoda. They have appeared independently in connexion with a change in the excretion of nitrogenous waste in Arachnids, Crustacea, and the other classes of Arthropoda when aerial, as opposed to aquatic, respiration has been established—and they have been formed in some cases from the mesenteron, in other cases from the proctodaeum. Their appearance in the air-breathing Arachnids does not separate those forms from the water-breathing Arachnids which are devoid of them, any more than does their appearance in certain Amphipoda separate those Crustaceans from the other members of the class.

It should be noted that whether or not these renal excretory tubes connect to the intestine seems to be a matter of adaptation to the changed physiological conditions of respiration, rather than having any morphological significance. A pair of renal excretory tubes like this is found in some Amphipod Crustaceans (Talorchestia, etc.) that have shifted away from exclusively aquatic life. This perspective has been accepted and backed by Professors Korschelt and Heider (16). A significant point supporting this was uncovered by Laurie (17), who studied the embryology of two species of Scorpio under Lankester’s guidance. It turns out that the Malpighian tubes of Scorpio develop from the mesenteron, which is the part of the gut formed by the hypoblast, while in Hexapod insects, the similar caecal tubes are developed from the proctodaeum, or the inward-pushed section of the gut formed from the epiblast. In reality, it isn't accurate to claim that the renal excretory tubes of the gut share a common origin within the Arthropoda. They emerged independently in connection with a shift in the excretion of nitrogenous waste in Arachnids, Crustacea, and other classes of Arthropoda as aerial respiration, unlike aquatic respiration, was established—and in some cases, they developed from the mesenteron, while in others, they came from the proctodaeum. Their presence in air-breathing Arachnids doesn’t differentiate those forms from the water-breathing Arachnids that lack them, just as their occurrence in certain Amphipoda doesn’t set those Crustaceans apart from the rest of the class.

Further, it is pointed out by Korschelt and Heider that the hinder portion of the gut frequently acts in Arthropoda as an organ of nitrogenous excretion in the absence of any special excretory tubules, and that the production of such caeca from its surface in separate lines of descent does not involve any elaborate or unlikely process of growth. In other words, the Malpighian tubes of the terrestrial Arachnida are homoplastic with those of Hexapoda and Myriapoda, and not homogenetic with them. We are compelled to take a similar view of the agreement between the tracheal air-tubes of Arachnida and other tracheate Arthropods. They are homoplasts (see 18) one of another, and do not owe their existence in the various classes compared to a common inheritance of an ancestral tracheal system.

Furthermore, Korschelt and Heider point out that the back part of the gut often functions as an organ for disposing of nitrogen in Arthropods, even without any specialized excretory tubules. They mention that the development of such caeca from its surface in different evolutionary lines doesn't require any complex or improbable growth process. In other words, the Malpighian tubes in land-dwelling Arachnids are homoplastic with those in Hexapoda and Myriapoda, and not homogenetic with them. We must adopt a similar perspective regarding the similarities between the tracheal air-tubes of Arachnids and other tracheate Arthropods. They are homoplasts (see 18) of each other, and their existence in the various classes compared does not come from a shared inheritance of a common ancestral tracheal system.

Fig. 30.—View from below of a scorpion (Buthus occitanus) opened and dissected so as to show the pericardium with its muscles, the lateral arteries, and the tergo-sternal muscles.

PRO, Prosoma.

PRO, Prosoma.

dpm, Dorso-plastral muscle.

dpm, back-plastron muscle.

art, Lateral artery.

art, Lateral artery.

tsm1, Tergo-sternal muscle (labelled dv in fig. 31) of the second (pectiniferous) mesosomatic somite; this is the most anterior pair of the series of six, none are present in the genital somite.

tsm1, Tergo-sternal muscle (marked dv in fig. 31) of the second (pectiniferous) mesosomatic segment; this is the first pair in a series of six, with none found in the genital segment.

tsm4, Tergo-sternal muscle of the fifth mesosomatic somite.

tsm4, tergo-sternal muscle of the fifth body segment.

tsm6, Tergo-sternal muscle of the enlarged first metasomatic somite.

tsm6, Tergo-sternal muscle of the enlarged first metasomatic segment.

Per, Pericardium.

By, Pericardium.

VPM1 to VPM7, The series of seven pairs of veno-pericardiac muscles (labelled pv in fig. 31).

VPM1 to VPM7, The series of seven pairs of veno-pericardiac muscles (marked pv in fig. 31).

There is some reason to admit the existence of another more anterior pair of these muscles in Scorpio; this would make the number exactly correspond with the number in Limulus.
(After Lankester, Trans. Zool. Soc. vol. xi, 1883.)

Conclusions arising from the Close Affinity of Limulus and Scorpio.—When we consider the relationships of the various classes of Arthropoda, having accepted and established the fact of the close genetic affinity of Limulus and Scorpio, we are led to important conclusions. In such a consideration we have to make use not only of the fact just mentioned, but of three important generalizations which serve as it were as implements for the proper estimation of the relationships of any series of organic forms. First of all there is the generalization that the relationships of the various forms of animals (or of plants) to one another is that of the ultimate twigs of a much-branching genealogical tree. Secondly, identity of structure in two organisms does not necessarily indicate that the identical structure has been inherited from an ancestor common to the two organisms compared (homogeny), but may be due to independent development of a like structure in two different lines of descent (homoplasy). Thirdly, those members of a group which, whilst exhibiting undoubted structural characters indicative of their proper assignment to that group, yet are simpler than and inferior in elaboration of their organization to other members of the group, are not necessarily representatives of the earlier and primitive phases in the development of the group—but are very often examples of retrogressive change or degeneration. The second and third implements of analysis above cited are of the nature of cautions or checks. Agreements are not necessarily due to common inheritance; simplicity is not necessarily primitive and ancestral.

Conclusions from the Close Affinity of Limulus and Scorpio.—When we look at the relationships among the different classes of Arthropoda, having recognized and confirmed the strong genetic connection between Limulus and Scorpio, we arrive at significant conclusions. In this analysis, we need to consider not only the connection mentioned but also three important generalizations that act like tools for accurately assessing the relationships among various forms of life. First, the relationships among different animal (or plant) forms resemble the ultimate branches of a sprawling family tree. Second, having the same structure in two organisms doesn't necessarily mean that this structure was passed down from a common ancestor (homogeny); it could result from the independent evolution of similar structures in separate lineages (homoplasy). Third, members of a group that show clear structural features justifying their classification in that group, yet are simpler and less complex than other members, are not automatically representatives of the earlier, more primitive stages of development in that group—instead, they often demonstrate retrogressive change or degeneration. The second and third analytical tools mentioned serve as cautions or checks. Similarities are not necessarily due to shared inheritance; simplicity is not necessarily primitive and ancestral.

On the other hand, we must not rashly set down agreements as due to “homoplasy” or “convergence of development” if we find two or three or more concurrent agreements. The probability is against agreement being due to homoplasy when the agreement involves a number of really separate (not correlated) coincidences. Whilst the chances are in favour of some one homoplastic coincidence or structural agreement occurring between some member or other of a large group a and some member or other of a large group b, the matter is very different 297 when by such an initial coincidence the two members have been particularized. The chances against these two selected members exhibiting another really independent homoplastic agreement are enormous: let us say 10,000 to 1. The chances against yet another coincidence are a hundred million to one, and against yet one more “coincidence” they are the square of a hundred million to one. Homoplasy can only be assumed when the coincidence is of a simple nature, and is such as may be reasonably supposed to have arisen by the action of like selective conditions upon like material in two separate lines of descent.4

On the other hand, we shouldn’t hastily conclude that agreements are due to “homoplasy” or “convergence of development” just because we find two, three, or more simultaneous agreements. The likelihood is low that an agreement is caused by homoplasy when it involves several truly separate (not correlated) coincidences. While it's more likely to find one homoplastic coincidence or structural agreement between some member of a large group a and some member of a large group b, the situation changes significantly when this initial coincidence has made the two members specific. The odds against these two chosen members showing another genuinely independent homoplastic agreement are enormous: let’s say 10,000 to 1. The odds against yet another coincidence are a hundred million to one, and the odds against yet one more “coincidence” are the square of a hundred million to one. Homoplasy can only be assumed when the coincidence is straightforward and could be reasonably expected to occur due to similar selective conditions acting on similar materials in two separate lines of descent. 297

So, too, degeneration is not to be lightly assumed as the explanation of a simplicity of structure. There is a very definite criterion of the simplicity due to degeneration, which can in most cases be applied. Degenerative simplicity is never uniformly distributed over all the structures of the organism. It affects many or nearly all the structures of the body, but leaves some, it may be only one, at a high level of elaboration and complexity. Ancestral simplicity is more uniform, and does not co-exist with specialization and elaboration of a single organ. Further: degeneration cannot be inferred safely by the examination of an isolated case; usually we obtain a series of forms indicating the steps of a change in structure—and what we have to decide is whether the movement has been from the simple to the more complex, or from the more complex to the simple. The feathers of a peacock afford a convenient example of primitive and degenerative simplicity. The highest point of elaboration in colour, pattern and form is shown by the great eye-painted tail feathers. From these we can pass by gradual transitions in two directions, viz. either to the simple lateral tail feathers with a few rami only, developed only on one side of the shaft and of uniform metallic coloration—or to the simple contour feathers of small size, with the usual symmetrical series of numerous rami right and left of the shaft and no remarkable colouring. The one-sided specialization and the peculiar metallic colouring of the lateral tail feathers mark them as the extreme terms of a degenerative series, whilst the symmetry, likeness of constituent parts inter se, and absence of specialized pigment, as well as the fact that they differ little from any average feather of birds in general, mark the contour feather as primitively simple, and as the starting-point from which the highly elaborated eye-painted tail feather has gradually evolved.

So, degeneration shouldn’t be casually seen as the reason behind a simple structure. There’s a clear criterion for identifying simplicity due to degeneration, which can usually be applied. Degenerative simplicity isn’t evenly spread across all structures of an organism. It impacts many or almost all body structures, but leaves some, sometimes just one, highly developed and complex. Ancestral simplicity is more consistent and doesn’t coexist with the specialization and complexity of a single organ. Furthermore, we can't reliably infer degeneration by looking at an isolated case; we typically look at a series of forms showing the steps of structural change—and we need to determine whether the progression is from simple to complex or from complex to simple. The feathers of a peacock serve as a good example of primitive and degenerative simplicity. The peak of elaboration in color, pattern, and form is seen in the large eye-patterned tail feathers. From these, we can make gradual transitions in two ways: either to the simple lateral tail feathers, which have only a few branches developed on one side of the shaft and a uniform metallic color—or to the small-sized simple contour feathers, which have the usual symmetrical series of numerous branches on both sides of the shaft and no striking color. The one-sided specialization and unique metallic coloring of the lateral tail feathers mark them as the extreme ends of a degenerative series, while the symmetry, similarity of the parts to each other, and lack of specialized pigment, along with their minimal difference from an average feather of birds in general, highlight the contour feather as primitively simple and as the starting point from which the highly developed eye-patterned tail feather has gradually evolved.

Applying these principles to the consideration of the Arachnida, we arrive at the conclusion that the smaller and simpler Arachnids are not the more primitive, but that the Acari or mites are, in fact, a degenerate group. This was maintained by Lankester in 1878 (19), again in 1881 (20); it was subsequently announced as a novelty by Claus in 1885 (21). Though the aquatic members of a class of animals are in some instances derived from terrestrial forms, the usual transition is from an aquatic ancestry to more recent land-living forms. There is no doubt, from a consideration of the facts of structure, that the aquatic water-breathing Arachnids, represented in the past by the Eurypterines and to-day by the sole survivor Limulus, have preceded the terrestrial air-breathing forms of that group. Hence we see at once that the better-known Arachnida form a series, leading from Limulus-like aquatic creatures through scorpions, spiders and harvest-men, to the degenerate Acari or mites. The spiders are specialized and reduced in apparent complexity, as compared with the scorpions, but they cannot be regarded as degenerate since the concentration of structure which occurs in them results in greater efficiency and power than are exhibited by the scorpion. The determination of the relative degree of perfection of organization attained by two animals compared is difficult when we introduce, as seems inevitable, the question of efficiency and power, and do not confine the question to the perfection of morphological development. We have no measure of the degree of power manifested by various animals—though it would be possible to arrive at some conclusions as to how that “power” should be estimated. It is not possible here to discuss that matter further. We must be content to point out that it seems that the spiders, the pedipalps, and other large Arachnids have not been derived from the scorpions directly, but have independently developed from aquatic ancestors, and from one of these independent groups—probably through the harvest-men from the spiders—the Acari have finally resulted.

Applying these principles to our study of spiders and scorpions, we conclude that the smaller and simpler arachnids aren't the most primitive; rather, the mites (or Acari) are actually a degenerate subgroup. Lankester pointed this out in 1878 (19) and again in 1881 (20), and Claus presented it as new information in 1885 (21). While some aquatic animals originate from land-based forms, the normal progression is usually from an aquatic ancestry to more recent land-dwelling species. It's clear from the structural evidence that aquatic, water-breathing arachnids, once represented by Eurypterines and today by the sole survivor, Limulus, came before the air-breathing land forms in that group. Therefore, we can see that the more commonly known arachnids create a sequence that goes from Limulus-like aquatic creatures through scorpions, spiders, and harvestmen, leading to the degenerate Acari or mites. Spiders are specialized and seem less complex compared to scorpions, but they aren’t considered degenerate since their specialized structure leads to greater efficiency and capability than what scorpions exhibit. Determining the relative perfection of organization between two animals is challenging when we inevitably bring in the topics of efficiency and power and don’t limit the discussion to just morphological perfection. We lack a measurement for the degree of power shown by different animals, although we could potentially draw some conclusions about how to assess that "power." We can't go further into that here. We should note that spiders, pedipalps, and other large arachnids likely didn't evolve directly from scorpions but rather developed independently from aquatic ancestors. One of these independent groups—likely through harvestmen from spiders—eventually led to the Acari.

After Beck, Trans. Zool. Soc. Vol. xi., 1883.
Fig. 31.—Diagram of a lateral view of a longitudinal section of a scorpion.

d, Chelicera.

d, Chelicera.

ch, Chela.

ch, Chela.

cam, Camerostome.

cam, Camera stem.

m, Mouth.

Mouth.

ent, Entosternum.

ent, Entosternum.

p, Pecten.

p, Scallop.

stig1, First pulmonary aperture.

stig1, First lung opening.

stig4, Fourth pulmonary aperture.

Fourth pulmonary aperture.

dam, Muscle from carapace to a praeoral entosclerite.

dam, Muscle from shell to a preoral entosclerite.

ad, Muscle from carapace to entosternum.

ad, Muscle from the shell to the internal skeleton.

md, Muscle from tergite of genital somite to entosternum (same as dpm in fig. 30).

md, Muscle from the back plate of the genital segment to the entosternum (same as dpm in fig. 30).

dv1 to dv6, Dorso-ventral muscles (same as the series labelled tsm in fig. 30).

dv1 to dv6, dorso-ventral muscles (the same as the series labeled tsm in fig. 30).

pv1 to pv7, The seven veno-pericardiac muscles of the right side (labelled VPM in fig. 30).

pv1 to pv7, The seven veno-pericardiac muscles on the right side (marked as VPM in fig. 30).

 

After Benham, Trans Zool. Soc. vol. xi, 1883.
Fig. 32.—Diagram of a lateral view of a longitudinal section of Limulus.

Suc, Suctorial pharynx.

Suc, sucking pharynx.

al, Alimentary canal.

Digestive tract.

Ph, Pharynx.

Ph, Throat.

M, Mouth.

M, Mouth.

Est, Entosternum.

Est, Entosternum.

VS, Ventral venous sinus.

VS, ventral vein sinus.

chi, Chilaria.

Hi, Chilaria.

go, Genital operculum.

go, genital operculum.

br1 to br5, Branchial appendages,

Branchial appendages 1 to 5

met, Unsegmented metasoma.

met, Unsegmented metasoma.

Entap4, Fourth dorsal entapophysis of left side.

Entap4, Fourth dorsal entapophysis on the left side.

tsm, Tergo-sternal muscles, six pairs as in Scorpio (labelled dv in fig. 31).

tsm, tergo-sternal muscles, six pairs just like in Scorpio (labeled dv in fig. 31).

VPM1 to VPM8, The eight pairs of veno-pericardiac muscles (labelled pv in fig. 31). VPM1 is probably represented in Scorpio, though not marked in figs. 30 and 31.

VPM1 to VPM8, the eight pairs of veno-pericardiac muscles (labeled pv in fig. 31). VPM1 is likely found in Scorpio, although it’s not indicated in figs. 30 and 31.

From Lankester, “Limulua an Arachnid.”
Fig. 33.—The alimentary canal and gastric glands of a scorpion (A) and of Limulus (B).

ps, Muscular suctorial enlargement of the pharynx.

ps, Enlarged muscular suction in the throat.

sal, Prosomatic pair of gastric caeca in Scorpio, called salivary glands by some writers.

sal, a prosomatic pair of gastric caeca in scorpions, referred to as salivary glands by some authors.

c1, and c2, The anterior two pairs of gastric caeca and ducts of the mesosomatic region.

c1, and c2, The first two pairs of gastric caeca and ducts in the mesosomatic area.

c3, c4 and c5. Caeca and ducts of Scorpio not represented in Limulus.

c3, c4 and c5. The caeca and ducts of Scorpio are not found in Limulus.

M, The Malpighian or renal caecal diverticula of Scorpio.

M, The Malpighian or renal cecal diverticula of Scorpio.

pro, The proctodaeum or portion of gut leading to anus and formed embryologically by an inversion of the epiblast at that orifice.

pro, The proctodaeum is the part of the gut that leads to the anus and is formed during embryonic development by an inward folding of the epiblast at that opening.

Leaving that question for consideration in connexion with the systematic statement of the characters of the various groups of Arachnida which follows on p. 299, it is well now to consider the following question, viz., seeing that Limulus and Scorpio are such highly developed and specialized forms, and that they seem to constitute as it were the first and second steps in the series of recognized Arachnida—what do we know, or what are we led to suppose with regard to the more primitive Arachnida from which the Eurypterines and Limulus and Scorpio have sprung? Do we know in the recent or fossil condition any such primitive Arachnids? Such a question is not only legitimate, but prompted by the analogy of at least one other great class of Arthropods. The great Arthropod class, the Crustacea, presents to the zoologist at the present day an immense range of forms, 298 comprising the primitive phyllopods, the minute copepods, the parasitic cirrhipedes and the powerful crabs and lobsters, and the highly elaborated sand-hoppers and slaters. It has been insisted, by those who accepted Lankester’s original doctrine of the direct or genetic affinity of the Chaetopoda and Arthropoda, that Apus and Branchipus really come very near to the ancestral forms which connected those two great branches of Appendiculate (Parapodiate) animals. On the other hand, the land crabs are at an immense distance from these simple forms. The record of the Crustacean family-tree is, in fact, a fairly complete one—the lower primitive members of the group are still represented by living forms in great abundance. In the case of the Arachnida, if we have to start their genealogical history with Limulus and Scorpio, we are much in the same position as we should be in dealing with the Crustacea, were the whole of the Entomostraca and the whole of the Arthrostraca wiped out of existence and record. There is no possibility of doubt that the series of forms corresponding in the Arachnidan line of descent, to the forms distinguished in the Crustacean line of descent as the lower grade—the Entomostraca—have ceased to exist, and not only so, but have left little evidence in the form of fossils as to their former existence and nature. It must, however, be admitted as probable that we should find some evidence, in ancient rocks or in the deep sea, of the early more primitive Arachnids. And it must be remembered that such forms must be expected to exhibit, when found, differences from Limulus and Scorpio as great as those which separate Apus and Cancer. The existing Arachnida, like the higher Crustacea, are “nomomeristic,” that is to say, have a fixed typical number of somites to the body. Further, they are like the higher Crustacea, “somatotagmic,” that is to say, they have this limited set of somites grouped in three (or more) “tagmata” or regions of a fixed number of similarly modified somites—each tagma differing in the modification of its fixed number of somites from that characterizing a neighbouring “tagma.” The most primitive among the lower Crustacea, on the other hand, for example, the Phyllopoda, have not a fixed number of somites, some genera—even allied species—have more, some less, within wide limits; they are “anomomeristic.” They also, as is generally the case with anomomeristic animals, do not exhibit any conformity to a fixed plan of “tagmatism” or division of the somites of the body into regions sharply marked off from one another; the head or prosomatic tagma is followed by a trunk consisting of somites which either graduate in character as we pass along the series or exhibit a large variety in different genera, families and orders, of grouping of the somites. They are anomotagmic, as well as anomomeristic.

Leaving that question to be considered alongside the systematic summary of the characteristics of the different groups of Arachnida that follows on p. 299, it's important now to think about the following question: given that Limulus and Scorpio are highly developed and specialized forms and seem to represent the first and second steps in the recognized Arachnida series—what do we know or what can we infer about the more primitive Arachnida from which Eurypterines, Limulus, and Scorpio evolved? Are there any such primitive Arachnids known to us in the current era or from fossil records? This question is not only valid but is also prompted by the similarities seen in at least one other major group of Arthropods. The large Arthropod class, the Crustacea, currently presents zoologists with an enormous variety of forms, including primitive phyllopods, tiny copepods, parasitic cirripedes, and robust crabs and lobsters, as well as intricately developed sand-hoppers and slaters. It has been emphasized by those who accepted Lankester’s original theory of the direct genetic link between Chaetopoda and Arthropoda that Apus and Branchipus are actually very close to the ancestral forms connecting these two major branches of Appendiculate (Parapodiate) animals. On the other hand, land crabs are vastly different from these simpler forms. The record of the Crustacean family tree is relatively complete—the lower primitive members of this group are still represented by numerous living forms. In the case of the Arachnida, if we have to begin their genealogical history with Limulus and Scorpio, we find ourselves in a similar situation to that of the Crustacea, if all of the Entomostraca and Arthrostraca were suddenly to vanish from existence and records. There’s no doubt that the forms corresponding to the lower levels of Arachnidan descent, akin to the basic forms distinguished in the Crustacean lineage as the lower grade—Entomostraca—have gone extinct and left little evidence, in the form of fossils, of their past existence and nature. However, it’s likely that we will find some evidence in ancient rocks or the deep sea of the early, more primitive Arachnids. It's also important to remember that such forms should be expected to show differences from Limulus and Scorpio as significant as those separating Apus and Cancer. The existing Arachnida, like the higher Crustacea, are “nomomeristic,” which means they have a fixed typical number of segments to their body. Additionally, they are like the higher Crustacea in being “somatotagmic,” meaning they possess this limited set of segments organized into three (or more) “tagmata” or regions with a fixed number of similarly modified segments—each tagma differing in the modification of its fixed number of segments from that characterizing a neighboring “tagma.” In contrast, the most primitive among the lower Crustacea, such as the Phyllopoda, do not have a fixed number of segments; some genera—even closely related species—can have more or less within wide limits; they are “anomomeristic.” Generally, they do not conform to a fixed plan of “tagmatism” or division of the body’s segments into sharply defined regions; the head or prosomatic tagma is followed by a trunk consisting of segments that either change character progressively along the series or show significant variety in different genera, families, and orders regarding the grouping of the segments. They are both anomotagmic and anomomeristic.

When it is admitted—as seems to be reasonable—that the primitive Arachnida would, like the primitive Crustacea, be anomomeristic and anomotagmic, we shall not demand of claimants for the rank of primitive Arachnids agreement with Limulus and Scorpio in respect of the exact number of their somites and the exact grouping of those somites; and when we see how diverse are the modifications of the branches of the appendages both in Arachnida and in other classes of Arthropoda (q.v.), we shall not over-estimate a difference in the form of this or that appendage exhibited by the claimant as compared with the higher Arachnids. With those considerations in mind, the claim of the extinct group of the trilobites to be considered as representatives of the lower and more primitive steps in the Arachnidan genealogy must, it seems, receive a favourable judgment. They differ from the Crustacea in that they have only a single pair of prae-oral appendages, the second pair being definitely developed as mandibles. This fact renders their association with the Crustacea impossible, if classification is to be the expression of genetic affinity inferred from structural coincidence. On the contrary, this particular point is one in which they agree with the higher Arachnida. But little is known of the structure of these extinct animals; we are therefore compelled to deal with such special points of resemblance and difference as their remains still exhibit. They had lateral eyes5 which resemble no known eyes so closely as the lateral eyes of Limulus. The general form and structure of their prosomatic carapace are in many striking features identical with that of Limulus. The trilobation of the head and body—due to the expansion and flattening of the sides or “pleura” of the tegumentary skeleton—is so closely repeated in the young of Limulus that the latter has been called “the trilobite stage” of Limulus (fig. 42 compared with fig. 41). No Crustacean exhibits this trilobite form. But most important of the evidences presented by the trilobites of affinity with Limulus, and therefore with the Arachnida, is the tendency less marked in some, strongly carried out in others, to form a pygidial or telsonic shield—a fusion of the posterior somites of the body, which is precisely identical in character with the metasomatic carapace of Limulus. When to this is added the fact that a post-anal spine is developed to a large size in some trilobites (fig. 38), like that of Limulus and Scorpio, and that lateral spines on the pleura of the somites are frequent as in Limulus, and that neither metasomatic fusion of somites nor post-anal spine, nor lateral pleural spines are found in any Crustacean, nor all three together in any Arthropod besides the trilobites and Limulus—the claim of the trilobites to be considered as representing one order of a lower grade of Arachnida, comparable to the grade Entomostraca of the Crustacea, seems to be established.

When we accept—as seems reasonable—that the early Arachnida would, like the early Crustacea, have an irregularity in their segment arrangement and an atypical body segmentation, we won’t require that those claiming to be primitive Arachnids have the same number of body segments and arrangement as Limulus and Scorpio. And when we see how varied the modifications of limb branches are in both Arachnida and other Arthropoda classes (q.v.), we won’t overestimate the differences in form shown by a claimant compared to more advanced Arachnids. Keeping this in mind, the case for the extinct group of trilobites to be seen as representatives of the lower and more primitive stages in the Arachnidan lineage appears to deserve a favorable consideration. They differ from the Crustacea in that they only have one pair of pre-oral appendages, with the second pair clearly developed as mandibles. This fact makes it impossible to classify them with the Crustacea if classification reflects genetic relationships inferred from structural similarities. On the other hand, this particular characteristic aligns them more closely with the higher Arachnida. We know very little about the structure of these extinct creatures; thus, we must focus on the specific similarities and differences that their remains still show. They had lateral eyes5 that resemble no known eyes as closely as the lateral eyes of Limulus. The general shape and structure of their prosomatic carapace share many striking similarities with that of Limulus. The trilobation of the head and body—due to the widening and flattening of the sides or “pleura” of the outer skeleton—is so closely mirrored in the young Limulus that it has been referred to as “the trilobite stage” of Limulus (fig. 42 compared with fig. 41). No Crustacean has this trilobite shape. But the most significant evidence of the trilobites' connection to Limulus, and therefore to Arachnida, is the tendency—less prominent in some, more pronounced in others—to develop a pygidial or telsonic shield, which is a fusion of the rear body segments, identical in nature to the metasomatic carapace of Limulus. When we also consider that some trilobites have a large post-anal spine (fig. 38), similar to that of Limulus and Scorpio, and that lateral spines on the pleura of the body segments are common like in Limulus, and that neither metasomatic fusion of segments, post-anal spines, nor lateral pleural spines are found in any Crustacean, nor are all three together in any Arthropod other than trilobites and Limulus—the argument for the trilobites to be viewed as representing a lower order of Arachnida, comparable to the Entomostraca grade of the Crustacea, seems to be validated.

The fact that the single pair of prae-oral appendages of trilobites, known only as yet in one genus, is in that particular case a pair of uni-ramose antennae—does not render the association of trilobites and Arachnids improbable. Although the prae-oral pair of appendages in the higher Arachnida is usually chelate, it is not always so; in spiders it is not so; nor in many Acari. The bi-ramose structure of the post-oral limbs, demonstrated by Beecher in the trilobite Triarthrus, is no more inconsistent with its claim to be a primitive Arachnid than is the foliaceous modification of the limbs in Phyllopods inconsistent with their relationship to the Arthrostracous Crustaceans such as Gammarus and Oniscus.

The fact that the single set of front appendages of trilobites, known only in one genus so far, consists of a pair of simple antennae doesn’t make the connection between trilobites and arachnids unlikely. Even though the front pair of appendages in higher arachnids is usually claw-like, that's not always the case; for instance, it's not true for spiders or many mites. The two-branched structure of the limbs behind the mouth, shown by Beecher in the trilobite Triarthrus, is just as consistent with it being a primitive arachnid as the leaf-like structure of the limbs in Phyllopods is consistent with their connection to arthropod crustaceans like Gammarus and Oniscus.

Thus, then, it seems that we have in the trilobites the representatives of the lower phases of the Arachnidan pedigree. The simple anomomeristic trilobite, with its equi-formal somites and equi-formal appendages, is one term of the series which ends in the even more simple but degenerate Acari. Between the two and at the highest point of the arc, so far as morphological differentiation is concerned, stands the scorpion; near to it in the trilobite’s direction (that is, on the ascending side) are Limulus and the Eurypterines—with a long gap, due to obliteration of the record, separating them from the trilobite. On the 299 other side—tending downwards from the scorpion towards the Acari—are the Pedipalpi, the spiders, the book-scorpions, the harvest-men and the water-mites.

Thus, it appears that trilobites represent the early stages of the Arachnid lineage. The basic anomomeristic trilobite, with its uniform body segments and uniform limbs, is one end of a spectrum that leads to the even simpler but degenerate Acari. Between the two, at the peak of the evolution arc in terms of body structure complexity, is the scorpion. Close to it in the direction of trilobites (that is, on the upward side) are Limulus and the Eurypterines—separated by a significant gap due to lost historical records from the trilobite. On the 299 other side—moving downward from the scorpion toward the Acari—are the Pedipalpi, the spiders, the book-scorpions, the harvestmen, and the water-mites.

The strange nobody-crabs or Pycnogonids occupy a place on the ascending half of the arc below the Eurypterines and Limulus. They are strangely modified and degenerate, but seem to be (as explained in the systematic review) the remnant of an Arachnidan group holding the same relation to the scorpions which the Laemodipoda hold to the Podophthalmate Crustacea.

The weird nobody-crabs, or Pycnogonids, are found on the rising part of the arc, just below the Eurypterines and Limulus. They are oddly shaped and somewhat degenerate, but appear to be (as detailed in the systematic review) a leftover from a group of Arachnids that have a similar relationship to scorpions as Laemodipoda do to Podophthalmate Crustacea.

 


We have now to offer a classification of the Arachnida and to pass in review the larger groups, with a brief statement of their structural characteristics.

We now need to present a classification of the Arachnida and review the larger groups, along with a brief overview of their structural features.

In the bibliography at the close of this article (referred to by leaded arabic numerals in brackets throughout these pages), the titles of works are given which contain detailed information as to the genera and species of each order or sub-order, their geographical distribution and their habits and economy so far as they have been ascertained. The limits of space do not permit of a fuller treatment of those matters here.

In the bibliography at the end of this article (marked by bold Arabic numerals in brackets throughout these pages), you'll find the titles of works that provide detailed information about the genera and species of each order or sub-order, their geographical distribution, and their behavior and ecology as much as has been determined. Due to space constraints, a more in-depth discussion of these topics isn't possible here.

Tabular Classification6 of the Arachnida.

Arachnid Classification __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Class. ARACHNIDA.

Class. Arachnids.

Grade A. ANOMOMERISTICA.

Grade A. ANOMOMERISTICA.

Sub-Class. TRILOBITAE.

Sub-Class: Trilobites.

Orders. Not satisfactorily determined.

Orders not satisfactorily resolved.

Grade B. NOMOMERISTICA.

Grade B. NOMOMERISTICA.

Sub-Class I. PANTOPODA.

Sub-Class I. Pantopoda.

Order 1. Nymphonomorpha.

Order 1. Nymphonomorpha.

Order 2. Ascorhynchomorpha.

Order 2: Ascorhynchomorpha.

Order 3. Pycnogonomorpha.

Order 3. Sea Spiders.

Sub-Class II. EU-ARACHNIDA.

Sub-Class II. EU-ARACHNIDA.

Grade a. delobranchia, Lankester (vel hydropneustea, Pocock).

Grade a. delobranchia, Lankester (or hydropneustea, Pocock).

Order 1. Xiphosura.

Order 1. Horseshoe Crab.

Order 2. Gigantostraca.

Order 2. Giant Crustaceans.

Grade b. embolobranchia, Lankester (vel aeropneustea, Pocock).

Grade b. embolobranchia, Lankester (or aeropneustea, Pocock).

Section α. Pectinifera.

Section A. Pectinifera.

Order 1. Scorpionidea.

Order 1. Scorpions.

Sub-order a. Apoxypoda.

Sub-order a. Apoxypoda.

Sub-order b. Dionychopoda.

Sub-order b. Dionychopoda.

Section β. Epectinata.

Section β. Epectinata.

Order 2. Pedipalpi.

Order 2. Spiders.

Sub-order a. Uropygi.

Sub-order a. Uropygi.

Tribe 1. Urotricha.

Tribe 1: Urotricha.

Tribe 2. Tartarides.

Tribe 2: Tartarides.

Sub-order b. Amblypygi.

Sub-order b. Amblypygi.

Order 3. Araneae.

Order 3. Spiders.

Sub-order a. Mesothelae.

Sub-order a. Mesothelae.

Sub-order b. Opisthothelae.

Sub-order b. Opisthothelae.

Tribe 1. Mygalomorphae.

Tribe 1. Mygalomorphae.

Tribe 2. Arachnomorphae.

Tribe 2. Arachnomorphae.

Order 4. Palpigradi (= Microthelyphonidae).

Order 4. Palpigradi (= Microthelyphonidae).

Order 5. Solifugae (= Mycetophorae).

Order 5. Solifugae (= Mycetophorae).

Order 6. Pseudoscorpiones (= Chelonethi).

Order 6. Pseudoscorpions (= Chelonethi).

Sub-order a. Panctenodactyli.

Sub-order a. Panctenodactyli.

Sub-order b. Hemirtenodactyli.

Sub-order b. Hemirtenodactyli.

Order 7. Podogona (= Ricinulel).

Order 7. Podogona (= Ricinulel).

Order 8. Opiliones.

Order 8. Harvestmen.

Sub-order a. Laniatores.

Sub-order a. Harvestmen.

Sub-order b. Palpatores.

Sub-order b. Palpatores.

Sub-order c. Anepignathi.

Sub-order c. Anepignathi.

Order 9. Rhynchostomi (= Acari).

Order 9. Rhynchostomi (Acari).

Sub-order a. Notostigmata.

Sub-order a. Notostigmata.

Sub-order b. Cryptostigmata.

Sub-order b. Cryptostigmata.

Sub-order c. Metastigmata.

Suborder c. Metastigmata.

Sub-order d. Prostigmata.

Sub-order d. Prostigmata.

Sub-order e. Astigmata.

Sub-order e. Astigmata.

Sub-order f. Vermiformia.

Sub-order f. Vermiforms.

Sub-order g. Tetrapoda.

Sub-order g. Tetrapoda.

Class. ARACHNIDA.—Euarthropoda having two prosthomeres (somites which have passed from a post-oral to a prae-oral position), the appendages of the first represented by eyes, of the second by solitary rami which are rarely antenniform, more usually chelate. A tendency is exhibited to the formation of a metasomatic as well as a prosomatic carapace by fusion of the tergal surfaces of the somites. Intermediate somites forming a mesosoma occur, but tend to fuse superficially with the metasomatic carapace or to become co-ordinated with the somites of the metasoma, whether fused or distinct to form one region, the opisthosoma (abdomen of authors). In the most highly developed forms the two anterior divisions (tagmata) of the body, prosoma and mesosoma, each exhibit six pairs of limbs, pediform and plate-like respectively, whilst the metasoma consists of six limbless somites and a post-anal spine. The genital apertures are placed in the first somite following the prosoma, excepting where a praegenital somite, usually suppressed, is retained. Little is known of the form of the appendages in the lowest archaic Arachnida, but the tendency of those of the prosomatic somites has been (as in the Crustacea) to pass from a generalized bi-ramose or multi-ramose form to that of uni-ramose antennae, chelae and walking legs.

Class. ARACHNIDA.—Euarthropods with two prosthomeres (segments that have moved from a position behind the mouth to one in front), where the appendages of the first are represented by eyes and the second by solitary branches that are rarely like antennae and usually chelate. There is a tendency for both a metasomatic and a prosomatic carapace to form through the fusion of the upper surfaces of the segments. Intermediate segments that make up a mesosoma appear but tend to fuse superficially with the metasomatic carapace or coordinate with the segments of the metasoma, whether fused or distinct, to create one region, the opisthosoma (abdomen according to some authors). In the most advanced forms, the two front sections (tagmata) of the body, prosoma and mesosoma, each have six pairs of limbs, which are foot-like and plate-like respectively, while the metasoma consists of six segments without limbs and a post-anal spine. The genital openings are located in the first segment after the prosoma, unless a praegenital segment, which is usually absent, is present. Little is known about the form of the appendages in the most primitive arachnids, but those in the prosomatic segments have tended (similar to Crustacea) to evolve from a generalized bi-ramose or multi-ramose form to uni-ramose antennae, chelae, and walking legs.

The Arachnida are divisible into two grades of structure—according to the fixity or non-fixity of the number of somites building up the body:—

The Arachnida can be divided into two structural categories—based on whether the number of segments that make up the body is fixed or not:—

Grade A (of the Arachnida). ANOMOMERISTICA.—Extinct archaic Arachnida, in which (as in the Entomostracous Crustacea) the number of well-developed somites may be more or less than eighteen and may be grouped only as head (prosoma) and trunk or may be further differentiated. A telsonic tergal shield of greater or less size is always present, which may be imperfectly divided into well-marked but immovable tergites indicating incompletely differentiated somites. The single pair of palpiform appendages in front of the mouth has been found in one instance to be antenniform, whilst the numerous post-oral appendages in the same genus were bi-ramose. The position of the genital apertures is not known. Compound lateral eyes present; median eyes wanting. The body and head have the two pleural regions of each somite flattened and expanded on either side of the true gut-holding body-axis. Hence the name of the sub-class signifying tri-lobed, a condition realized also in the Xiphosurous Arachnids. The members of this group, whilst resembling the lower Crustacea (as all lower groups of a branching genealogical tree must do), differ from them essentially in that the head exhibits only one prosthomere (in addition to the eye-bearing prosthomere) with palpiform appendages (as in all Arachnida) instead of two. The Anomomeristic Arachnida form a single sub-class, of which only imperfect fossil remains are known.

Grade A (of the Arachnida). ANOMOMERISTICA.—Extinct primitive Arachnids, in which (similar to Entomostracous Crustaceans) the number of well-developed body segments can be more or less than eighteen and may only be divided into a head (prosoma) and trunk, or may have further differentiation. A telsonic tergal shield of varying size is always present, which may be somewhat divided into distinct but immovable tergites showing incompletely differentiated segments. The single pair of appendages in front of the mouth has been observed in one case to resemble antennae, while the numerous post-oral appendages in the same genus were bi-ramose. The location of the genital openings is unknown. Compound lateral eyes are present; median eyes are absent. The body and head have two pleural regions on each segment that are flattened and expanded on either side of the central gut-holding body axis. Hence the name of the sub-class meaning tri-lobed, a condition also seen in Xiphosurous Arachnids. The members of this group, while resembling lower Crustaceans (as all basic groups of a branching family tree must), fundamentally differ in that the head has only one prosthomere (besides the eye-bearing prosthomere) with palpiform appendages (as in all Arachnids) instead of two. The Anomomeristic Arachnids form a single sub-class, of which only incomplete fossil remains are known.

Fig. 34.—Restoration of Triarthrus Becki, Green, as determined by Beecher from specimens obtained from the Utica Slates (Ordovician), New York. A, dorsal; B, ventral surface. In the latter the single pair of antennae springing up from each side of the camerostome or hypostome or upper lip-lobe are seen. Four pairs of appendages besides these are seen to belong to the cephalic tergum. All the appendages are pediform and bi-ramose; all have a prominent gnathobase, and in all the exopodite carries a comb-like series of secondary processes.

Sub-class (of the Anomomeristica). TRILOBITAE.—The single sub-class Trilobitae constitutes the grade Anomomeristica. It has been variously divided into orders by a number of writers. The greater or less evolution and specialization of the metasomatic carapace appears to be the most important basis for classification—but this has not been made use of in the latest attempts at drawing up a system of the Trilobites. The form of the middle and lateral regions of the prosomatic shield has been used, and an excessive importance attached to the demarcation of certain areas in that structure. Sutures are stated to mark off some of these pieces, but in the proper sense of that term as applied to the skeletal structures of the Vertebrata, no sutures exist in the chitinous cuticle of Arthropoda. That any partial fusion of originally distinct chitinous plates takes place in the cephalic shield of Trilobites, comparable to the partial fusion of bony pieces by suture in Vertebrata, is a suggestion contrary to fact.

Sub-class (of the Anomomeristica). TRILOBITAE.—The single sub-class Trilobitae makes up the grade Anomomeristica. Various authors have divided it into orders in different ways. The extent of evolution and specialization of the metasomatic carapace seems to be the main basis for classification, but this hasn't been used in the most recent efforts to create a system for Trilobites. Instead, the shape of the middle and side areas of the prosomatic shield has been considered too important, with an excessive emphasis on distinguishing certain regions within that structure. While it's said that sutures separate some of these parts, true sutures—as used in relation to the skeletal structures of vertebrates—do not exist in the chitinous cuticle of arthropods. The idea that any partial fusion of originally distinct chitinous plates occurs in the cephalic shield of Trilobites, similar to the partial fusion of bony pieces by sutures in vertebrates, is unfounded.

The Trilobites are known only as fossils, mostly Silurian and prae-Silurian; a few are found in Carboniferous and Permian strata. As many as two thousand species are known. Genera with small metasomatic carapace, consisting of three to six fused segments distinctly marked though not separated by soft membrane, are Harpes, Paradoxides and Triarthrus (fig. 34). In Calymene, Homalonotus and Phacops (fig. 38) from six to sixteen segments are clearly marked by ridges and grooves in the metasomatic tagma, whilst in Illaenus the shield so formed is large but no somites are marked out on its surface. In this genus ten free somites (mesosoma) occur between the prosomatic and metasomatic carapaces. Asaphus and Megalaspis (fig. 39) are similarly constituted. In Agnostus (fig. 40) the anterior and posterior carapaces constitute almost the entire body, the two carapaces being connected by a mid-region of only two free somites. It has been held that the forms with a small number of somites marked in the posterior carapace and numerous free somites between the anterior and posterior carapace, must be considered as anterior to those in which a great number of posterior somites are traceable in the metasomatic carapace, and that those in which the traces of distinct somites in the posterior or metasomatic carapace are most completely absent must be regarded as derived from those in which somites are well marked in the posterior 300 carapace and similar in appearance to the free somites. The genus Agnostus, which belongs to the last category, occurs abundantly in Cambrian strata and is one of the earliest forms known. This would lead to the supposition that the great development of metasomatic carapace is a primitive and not a late character, were it not for the fact that Paradoxides and Atops, with an inconspicuous telsonic carapace and numerous free somites, are also Cambrian in age, the latter indeed anterior in horizon to Agnostus.

The Trilobites are only known as fossils, mainly from the Silurian period and earlier; a few are found in Carboniferous and Permian layers. There are as many as two thousand known species. Genera with small metasomatic shells, made up of three to six fused segments that are distinctly marked but not separated by a soft membrane, include Harpes, Paradoxides, and Triarthrus (fig. 34). In Calymene, Homalonotus, and Phacops (fig. 38), there are six to sixteen segments clearly marked by ridges and grooves in the metasomatic tagma, while in Illaenus, the shield formed is large, but no segments are outlined on its surface. In this genus, there are ten free segments (mesosoma) located between the prosomatic and metasomatic shells. Asaphus and Megalaspis (fig. 39) have a similar structure. In Agnostus (fig. 40), the front and back shells make up almost the entire body, with the two shells connected by a mid-region of only two free segments. It's been suggested that forms with a small number of segments marked in the posterior shell and many free segments between the front and back shells should be considered earlier than those in which a large number of posterior segments can be traced in the metasomatic shell, and that those where the traces of distinct segments in the posterior or metasomatic shell are completely absent should be seen as derived from those where segments are well marked in the posterior shell and resemble the free segments. The genus Agnostus, which falls into the last category, is abundant in Cambrian layers and is one of the earliest known forms. This would suggest that the significant development of the metasomatic shell is a primitive trait rather than a later one, if it weren't for the fact that Paradoxides and Atops, with a less noticeable telsonic shell and numerous free segments, are also from the Cambrian period, with the latter actually appearing earlier than Agnostus.

On the other hand, it may well be doubted whether the pygidial or posterior carapace is primarily due to a fusion of the tergites of somites which were previously movable and well developed. The posterior carapace of the Trilobites and of Limulus is probably enough in origin a telsonic carapace—that is to say, is the tergum of the last segment of the body which carries the anus. From the front of this region new segments are produced in the first instance, and are added during growth to the existing series. This telson may enlarge, it may possibly even become internally and sternally developed as partially separate somites, and the tergum may remain without trace of somite formation, or, as appears to be the case in Limulus, the telson gives rise to a few well-marked somites (mesosoma and two others) and then enlarges without further trace of segmentation, whilst the chitinous integument which develops in increasing thickness on the terga as growth advances welds together the unsegmented telson and the somites in front of it, which were previously marked by separate tergal thickenings. It must always be remembered that we are liable (especially in the case of fossilized integuments) to attach an unwarranted interpretation to the mere discontinuity or continuity of the thickened plates of chitinous cuticle on the back of an Arthropod. These plates may fuse, and yet the somites to which they belong may remain distinct, and each have its pair of appendages well developed. On the other hand, an unusually large tergal plate, whether terminal or in the series, is not always due to fusion of the dorsal plates of once-separate somites, but is often a case of growth and enlargement of a single somite without formation of any trace of a new somite. For the literature of Trilobites see (22*).

On the other hand, it’s worth questioning whether the pygidial or back carapace is mainly the result of a fusion of the tergites from segments that were previously movable and well developed. The back carapace of Trilobites and of Limulus likely originates as a telsonic carapace, meaning it is the tergum of the last segment of the body that houses the anus. New segments are initially produced from the front of this region and are added as growth continues to the existing series. This telson can expand; it may even become internally and sternally developed as partially separate segments, and the tergum might show no signs of segment formation, or, as seems to be the case in Limulus, the telson gives rise to a few distinct segments (mesosoma and two others) and then enlarges without further signs of segmentation. Meanwhile, the chitinous integument that thickens on the terga as growth progresses merges the unsegmented telson with the segments in front of it, which were previously distinguished by separate tergal thickenings. We must always keep in mind that we might incorrectly interpret the mere discontinuity or continuity of the thickened chitinous plates on the back of an Arthropod, especially in the case of fossilized integuments. These plates may fuse, and yet the segments they belong to may remain separate, each having its own well-developed pair of appendages. Conversely, a particularly large tergal plate, whether at the end or in the series, doesn’t always result from the fusion of dorsal plates from once-separate segments, but is often just the growth and enlargement of a single segment without any signs of a new segment forming. For the literature on Trilobites see (22*).

Fig. 35.—Triarthrus Becki, Green. a, Restored thoracic limbs in transverse section of the animal; b, section across a posterior somite; c, section across one of the sub-terminal somites.
(After Beecher.)
Fig. 36.—Triarthrus Becki, Green. Dorsal view of second thoracic leg with and without setae. en, Inner ramus; ex, Outer ramus. Fig. 37.—Deiphon Forbesii, Barr. One of the Cheiruridae. Silurian Bohemia.
(After Beecher.) (From Zittel’s Palaeontology.)
Fig. 38.—Dalmanites Kmulurus, Green. One of the Phacopidae, from the Silurian, New York. Fig. 39.—Megalaspis extenuatus. One of the Asaphidae allied to Illaenus, from the Ordovician of East Gothland, Sweden.
(From Zittel.) (From Zittel.)

Grade B (of the Aracknida) NOMOMERISTICA.—Arachnida in which, excluding from consideration the eye-bearing prosthomere, the somites are primarily (that is to say, in the common ancestor of the grade) grouped in three regions of six—(a) the “prosoma” with palpiform appendages, (b) the “mesosoma” with plate-like appendages, and (c) the “metasoma” with suppressed appendages. A somite placed between the prosoma and mesosoma —the prae-genital somite—appears to have belonged originally to the prosomatic series (which with its ocular prosthomere and palpiform limbs [Pantopoda], would thus consist of eight somites), but to have been gradually reduced. In living Arachnids, excepting the Pantopoda, it is either fused (with loss of its appendages) with the prosoma (Limulus,7 Scorpio), after embryonic appearance, or is 301 retained as a rudimentary, separate, detached somite in front of the mesosoma, or disappears altogether (excalation). The atrophy and total disappearance of ancestrally well-marked somites frequently take place (as in all Arthropoda) at the posterior extremity of the body, whilst excalation of somites may occur at the constricted areas which often separate adjacent “regions,” though there are very few instances in which it has been recognized. Concentration of the organ-systems by fusion of neighbouring regions (prosoma, mesosoma, metasoma), previously distinct, has frequently occurred, together with obliteration of the muscular and chitinous structures indicative of distinct somites. This concentration and obliteration of somites, often accompanied by dislocation of important segmental structures (such as appendages and nerve-ganglia), may lead to highly developed specialization (individuation, H. Spencer), as in the Araneae and Opiliones, and, on the other hand, may terminate in simplification and degeneration, as in the Acari.

Grade B (of the Arachnids) NOMOMERISTICA.—Arachnids in which, when we leave out the eye-bearing front segment, the body segments are primarily grouped into three regions of six—(a) the “prosoma” with palpal appendages, (b) the “mesosoma” with plate-like appendages, and (c) the “metasoma” with reduced appendages. A segment located between the prosoma and mesosoma—the prae-genital segment—seems to have originally belonged to the prosomatic series (which, along with its ocular front segment and palpal limbs [Pantopoda], would thus have eight segments), but it appears to have been gradually reduced. In living Arachnids, except for the Pantopoda, it is either fused (losing its appendages) with the prosoma (Limulus, 7 Scorpio), after its embryonic appearance, or it is 301 retained as a rudimentary, separate, detached segment in front of the mesosoma, or it simply disappears (excalation). The atrophy and total disappearance of distinctly marked ancestral segments often occur (as in all Arthropoda) at the back end of the body, while excalation of segments can take place at the narrowed regions that often separate neighboring “regions,” although there are very few cases where this has been recognized. The concentration of organ systems through the fusion of neighboring regions (prosoma, mesosoma, metasoma), which were previously distinct, has often happened, along with the loss of muscular and chitinous structures that indicate distinct segments. This concentration and obliteration of segments, often accompanied by the dislocation of important segmental structures (like appendages and nerve-ganglia), can lead to highly developed specialization (individuation, H. Spencer), as seen in the Araneae and Opiliones, while on the other hand, it can result in simplification and degeneration, as in the Acari.

 



Fig. 40.—Four stages in the development of the trilobite Agnostus nudus. A, Youngest stage with no mesosomatic somites; B and C, stages with two mesosomatic somites between the prosomatic and telsonic carapaces; D, adult condition, still with only two free mesosomatic somites.
(From Korschelt and Heider.)

 



From Korschelt and Heider, after Barrande.
Figure. 41.—Five Stages in the development of the trilobite Sao hirsuta.

A, Youngest stage.

A, Youngest phase.

B, Older stage with distinct pygidial carapace.

B, Older stage with a distinct pygidial shell.

C, Stage with two free mesosomatic somites between the prosomatic and telsonic carapaces.

C, Stage with two free body segments located between the front and rear carapaces.

D, Stace with seven free intermediate somites.

D, Stace with seven free intermediate body segments.

E, Stave with twelve free somites; the telsonic carapace has not increased in size.

E, Stave with twelve free segments; the tail carapace has not grown in size.

a, Lateral eye.

Lateral eye.

g, So-called facial “suture” (not really a suture).

g, So-called facial “suture” (not actually a suture).

p, Telsonic carapace.

Telsonic shell.

 



Fig. 42.—So-called “trilobite stage” of Limulus polyphemus. A, Dorsal; B, ventral view.
(from Korschelt and Heider, after Leuckart.)

The most important general change which has affected the structure of the nomomeristic Arachnida in the course of their historic development is the transition from an aquatic to a terrestrial life. This has been accompanied by the conversion of the lamelliform gill-plates into lamelliform lung-plates, and later the development from the lung-chambers, and at independent sites, of tracheae or air-tubes (by adaptation of the vasifactive tissue of the blood-vessels) similar to those independently developed in Peripatus, Diplopoda, Hexapoda and Chilopoda. Probably tracheae have developed independently by the same process in several groups of tracheate Arachnids. The nomomeristic Arachnids comprise two sub-classes—one a very small degenerate offshoot from early ancestors; the other, the great bulk of the class.

The most significant general change that has impacted the structure of the nomomeristic Arachnida throughout their historical development is the shift from an aquatic to a terrestrial lifestyle. This transition has led to the transformation of lamelliform gill-plates into lamelliform lung-plates, and subsequently, the development of tracheae or air-tubes (through adaptation of the vascular tissue of the blood vessels) similar to those that independently evolved in Peripatus, Diplopoda, Hexapoda, and Chilopoda. It's likely that tracheae have independently developed through the same process in various groups of tracheate Arachnids. The nomomeristic Arachnids consist of two sub-classes—one being a very small degenerate offshoot from early ancestors, and the other representing the vast majority of the class.

Sub-Class I. (of the Nomomeristica). PANTOPODA.—Nomomeristic Arachnids, in which the somites corresponding to mesosoma and metasoma have entirely aborted. The seventh, and sometimes the eighth, leg-bearing somite is present and has its leg-like appendages fully developed. Monomeniscous eyes with a double (really triple) cell-layer formed by invagination, as in the Eu-arachnida, are present The Pantopoda stand in the same relation to Limulus and Scorpio that Cyamus holds to the thoracostracous Crustacea. The reduction of the organism to seven leg-bearing somites, of which the first pair, as in so many Eu-arachnida, are chelate, is a form of degeneration connected with a peculiar quasi-parasitic habit resembling that of the crustacean Laemodipoda. The genital pores are situate at the base of the 7th pair of limbs, and may be repeated on the 4th, 5th, and 6th. In all known Pantopoda the size of the body is quite minute as compared with that of the limbs: the alimentary canal sends a long caecum into each leg (cf. the Araneae) and the genital products are developed in gonocoels also placed in the legs.

Sub-Class I. (of the Nomomeristica). PANTOPODA.—Nomomeristic Arachnids, where the sections that would correspond to the midbody and hindbody have completely disappeared. The seventh, and sometimes the eighth, leg-bearing section is present and has its leg-like appendages fully developed. They have monomeniscous eyes with a double (actually triple) cell layer formed by invagination, similar to Eu-arachnida. Pantopoda are related to Limulus and Scorpio in the same way that Cyamus relates to thoracostracous Crustacea. The reduction of the organism to seven leg-bearing sections, with the first pair, like in many Eu-arachnida, being chelate, represents a form of degeneration associated with a peculiar quasi-parasitic lifestyle similar to the crustacean Laemodipoda. The reproductive openings are located at the base of the 7th pair of limbs and may also occur on the 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs. In all known Pantopoda, the body size is noticeably small compared to the limbs: the digestive tract extends a long caecum into each leg (cf. the Araneae), and the reproductive products develop in gonocoels also located in the legs.

From Parker and Harwell’s Text-book of Zoology, after Hoek.
Fig. 43.—One of the Nymphonomorphous Pantopoda, Nymphon hispidum, showing the seven pairs of appendages 1 to 7; ab, the rudimentary opisthosoma; s, the mouth-bearing proboscis.

The Pantopoda are divided into three orders, the characters of which are dependent on variation in the presence of the full number of legs.

The Pantopoda are divided into three orders, which differ based on the variation in the number of legs present.

Order 1. (of the Pantopoda). Nymphonomorpha, Pocock (nov.) (fig. 43).—In primitive forms belonging to the family Nymphonidae the full complement of appendages is retained—the 1st (mandibular), the 2nd (palpiform), and the 3rd (ovigerous) pairs being well developed in both sexes. In certain derivative forms constituting the family Pallenidae, however, the appendages of the 2nd pair are either rudimentary or atrophied altogether.

Order 1. (of the Pantopoda). Nymphonomorpha, Pocock (nov.) (fig. 43).—In primitive forms from the family Nymphonidae, all the appendages are present—the 1st (mandibular), the 2nd (palpiform), and the 3rd (ovigerous) pairs are well-developed in both sexes. However, in certain derived forms that make up the family Pallenidae, the appendages of the 2nd pair are either underdeveloped or completely absent.

Two families: 1. Nymphonidae (genus Nymphon), and 2. Pallenidae (genus Pallene).

Two families: 1. Nymphonidae (genus Nymphon), and 2. Pallenidae (genus Pallene).

Order 2. Ascorhynchomorpha, Pocock (nov.).—Appendages of the 2nd and 3rd pairs retained and developed, as in the more primitive types of Nymphonomorpha; but those of the 1st pair are either rudimentary, as in the Ascorhynchidae, or atrophied, as in the Colossendeidae. In the latter a further specialization is shown in the fusion of the body segments.

Order 2. Ascorhynchomorpha, Pocock (nov.).—The 2nd and 3rd pairs of appendages are present and developed, similar to the more primitive types of Nymphonomorpha; but the 1st pair is either underdeveloped, as in the Ascorhynchidae, or shriveled, as in the Colossendeidae. In the latter, there is additional specialization shown by the fusion of the body segments.

Two families. 1. Ascorhynchidae (genera Ascorhynchus and Ammothea); 2. Colossendeidae (genera Colossendeis and Discoarachne).

Two families. 1. Ascorhynchidae (genera Ascorhynchus and Ammothea); 2. Colossendeidae (genera Colossendeis and Discoarachne).

Order 3. Pycnogonomorpha, Pocock (nov.).—Derivative forms in which the reduction in number of the anterior appendages is carried farther than in the other orders, reaching its extreme in the Pycnogonidae, where the 1st and 2nd pairs are absent in both sexes, and the 3rd pair also are absent in the female. In the Hannoniidae, however, which resemble the Pycnogonidae in the absence of the 3rd pair in the female and of the 2nd pair in both sexes, the 1st pair are retained in both sexes.

Order 3. Pycnogonomorpha, Pocock (nov.).—These are derived forms where the reduction in the number of front appendages goes further than in other orders, peaking in the Pycnogonidae, where the 1st and 2nd pairs are missing in both males and females, and the 3rd pair is also absent in females. In the Hannoniidae, however, which are similar to the Pycnogonidae in lacking the 3rd pair in females and the 2nd pair in all, the 1st pair is still present in both males and females.

Two families: 1. Hannoniidae (genus Hannonia); 2. Pycnogonidae (genera Pycnogonum and Phoxichilus).

Two families: 1. Hannoniidae (genus Hannonia); 2. Pycnogonidae (genera Pycnogonum and Phoxichilus).

Remarks.—The Pantopoda are not known in the fossil condition. They are entirely marine, and are not uncommon in the coralline zone of the sea-coast. The species are few, not more than fifty (23). Some large species of peculiar genera are taken at great depths. Their movements are extremely sluggish. They are especially remarkable for the small size of the body and the extension of viscera into the legs. Their structure is eminently that of degenerate forms. Many frequent growths of coralline Algae and hydroid polyps, upon the juices of which they feed, and in some cases a species of gall is produced in hydroids by the penetration of the larval Pantopod into the tissues of the polyp.

Remarks.—Pantopoda have not been found in the fossil record. They are fully marine and are fairly common in the coralline zone along the coast. There are only a limited number of species—around fifty (23). Some large species from unique genera are caught at significant depths. Their movements are very slow. They are especially notable for their small body size and the way their internal organs extend into their legs. Their structure clearly indicates that they are degenerate forms. Many of them live on the growths of coralline algae and hydroid polyps, feeding on their juices, and in certain cases, a type of gall is formed in hydroids due to the larvae of Pantopoda penetrating the tissues of the polyp.

Sub-Class II. (of the Nomomeristic Arachnida). EU-ARACHNIDA.—These start from highly developed and specialized aquatic branchiferous forms, exhibiting a prosoma with six pediform pairs of appendages, an intermediate prae-genital somite, a mesosoma of six somites bearing lamelliform pairs of appendages, and a metasoma of six somites devoid of appendages, and the last provided with a post-anal spine. Median eyes are present, which are monomeniscous, with distinct retinal and corneagenous cell-layers, and placed centrally on the prosoma. Lateral eyes also may be present, arranged in lateral groups, and having a single or double cell-layer beneath the lens. The first pair of limbs is often chelate or prehensile, rarely antenniform; whilst the second, third and fourth may also be chelate, or may be simple palps or walking legs.

Sub-Class II. (of the Nomomeristic Arachnida). EU-ARACHNIDA.—These begin as highly developed and specialized aquatic forms with gills, featuring a prosoma with six pairs of leg-like appendages, an intermediate pre-genital segment, a mesosoma made up of six segments with flattened pairs of appendages, and a metasoma comprising six segments that lack appendages, with the last segment having a post-anal spine. They have median eyes that are monomeniscous, with distinct layers of retinal and corneal cells, located centrally on the prosoma. Lateral eyes may also be present, grouped laterally, and typically have either a single or double layer of cells beneath the lens. The first pair of limbs is often chelate or grasping, and rarely resembles antennae; the second, third, and fourth pairs can also be chelate, or they may serve as simple palps or walking legs.

302

302

An internal skeletal plate, the so-called “entosternite” of fibro-cartilaginous tissue, to which many muscles are attached, is placed between the nerve-cords and the alimentary tract in the prosoma of the larger forms (Limulus, Scorpio, Mygale). In the same and other leading forms a pair of much-coiled glandular tubes, the coxal glands (coelomocoels in origin), is found with a duct opening on the coxa of the fifth pair of appendages of the prosoma. The vascular system is highly developed (in the non-degenerate forms); large arterial branches closely accompany or envelop the chief nerves; capillaries are well developed. The blood-corpuscles are large amoebiform cells, and the blood-plasma is coloured blue by haemocyanin.

An internal skeletal plate, known as the “entosternite,” made of fibro-cartilaginous tissue, supports many muscles and is located between the nerve cords and the digestive system in the prosoma of larger species (Limulus, Scorpio, Mygale). In these and other main species, there’s a pair of coiled glandular tubes called coxal glands (originating from coelomocoels), with a duct that opens on the coxa of the fifth pair of appendages in the prosoma. The vascular system is well-developed (in non-degenerate forms); large arterial branches closely accompany or surround the main nerves, and capillaries are also well-developed. The blood cells are large amoeboid cells, and the blood plasma is blue due to haemocyanin.

The alimentary canal is uncoiled and cylindrical, and gives rise laterally to large gastric glands, which are more than a single pair in number (two to six pairs), and may assume the form of simple caeca. The mouth is minute and the pharynx is always suctorial, never gizzard-like. The gonadial tubes (gonocoels or gonadial coelom) are originally reticular and paired, though they may be reduced to a simpler condition. They open on the first somite of the mesosoma. In the numerous degenerate forms simplification occurs by obliteration of the demarcations of somites and the fusion of body-regions, together with a gradual suppression of the lamelliferous respiratory organs and the substitution for them of tracheae, which, in their turn, in the smaller and most reduced members of the group, may also disappear.

The digestive tract is uncoiled and tube-shaped, featuring multiple large stomach glands, which typically range from two to six pairs and can take on a simple pouch-like shape. The mouth is small, and the pharynx is always designed for suction, never resembling a gizzard. The reproductive tubes (gonocoels or gonadal coelom) initially have a network-like structure and are paired, although they can be simplified over time. They open on the first segment of the midsection. In various degenerated species, simplification happens through the loss of segment boundaries and the merging of body regions, along with a gradual reduction of the layered respiratory organs, which are replaced by tracheae. In the smaller and most reduced members of the group, these tracheae may also disappear.

The Eu-arachnida are divided into two grades with reference to the condition of the respiratory organs as adapted to aquatic or terrestrial life.

The Eu-arachnida are split into two categories based on the condition of their respiratory organs, which are adapted for either aquatic or terrestrial life.

Grade a (of the Eu-arachnida). delobranchia (Hydropheustea).

Grade a (of the Eu-arachnida). delobranchia (Hydropheustea).

Mesosomatic segments furnished with large plate-like appendages, the 1st pair acting as the genital operculum, the remaining pairs being provided with branchial lamellae fitted for breathing oxygen dissolved in water. The prae-genital somite partially or wholly obliterated in the adult. The mouth lying far back, so that the basal segments of all the prosomatic appendages, excepting those of the 1st pair, are capable of acting as masticatory organs. Lateral eyes consisting of a densely packed group of eye-units (“compound” eyes).

Mesosomatic segments with large, plate-like appendages; the first pair serves as the genital cover, while the other pairs have branchial lamellae for breathing oxygen in water. The prae-genital segment is partially or completely gone in adults. The mouth is positioned far back, allowing the base segments of all the prosomatic appendages, except for the first pair, to function as chewing organs. Lateral eyes are made up of a tightly packed cluster of eye units ("compound" eyes).

ORDER 1. XIPHOSURA.—The prae-genital somite fuses in the embryo with the prosoma and disappears (see fig. 19). Not free-swimming, none of the prosomatic appendages modified to act as paddles; segments of the mesosoma and metasoma (= opisthosoma) not more than ten in number, distinct or coalesced.

ORDER 1. XIPHOSURA.—The pre-genital segment merges with the prosoma in the embryo and vanishes (see fig. 19). Not free-swimming, and none of the prosomatic appendages are adapted to function as paddles; the segments of the mesosoma and metasoma (= opisthosoma) are no more than ten in total, whether separate or fused.

Family—Limulidae (Limulus).

Family—Horseshoe Crabs (Limulus).

 ”   *Belinuridae (Belinurus, Aglaspis, Prestwichia).

Belinuridae (Belinurus, Aglaspis, Prestwichia).

 ”   *Hemiaspidae (Hemiaspis, Bunodes).

”   *Hemiaspidae (Hemiaspis, Bunodes).




Fig. 44.—Dorsal view of Limulus polyphemus, Latr.
(From Parker and Haswell, Text book of Zoology after Leuckart.)

Remarks.-The Xiphosura are marine in habit, frequenting the shore. They are represented at the present day by the single genus Limulus (figs. 44 and 45; also figs. 7, 9, 11, to 15 and 20), often termed the king-crab, which occurs on the American coast of the Atlantic Ocean, but not on its eastern coasts, and on the Asiatic coast of the Pacific. The Atlantic species (L. polyphemus) is common on the coasts of the United States, and is known as the king-crab or horse-shoe crab. A single specimen was found in the harbour of Copenhagen in the 18th century, having presumably been carried over by a ship to which it clung.

Remarks.-The Xiphosura are marine creatures that live near the shore. Today, they are represented by the single genus Limulus (figs. 44 and 45; also figs. 7, 9, 11 to 15 and 20), often called the king-crab. This species is found along the American coast of the Atlantic Ocean, but not on its eastern shores, and also on the Asian coast of the Pacific. The Atlantic species (L. polyphemus) is common along the coasts of the United States, and is known as the king-crab or horseshoe crab. A single specimen was discovered in the harbor of Copenhagen in the 18th century, likely having been brought there by a ship to which it was clinging.

A species of Limulus is found in the Buntersandstein of the Vosges; L. Walchi is abundant in the Oolitic lithographic slates of Bavaria.

A species of Limulus is found in the Buntersandstein of the Vosges; L. Walchi is abundant in the Oolitic lithographic slates of Bavaria.




Fig. 45.—Ventral view of Limulus polyphemus.

1 to 6, The six prosomatic pairs of appendages.

1 to 6, The six functional pairs of appendages.

abd, the solid opisthosomatic carapace.

abd, the solid back carapace.

tels, the post-anal spine (not the telson as the lettering would seem to imply, but only its post-anal portion).

tels, the post-anal spine (not the telson as the lettering would seem to imply, but only its post-anal portion).

operc, the fused first pair of mesosomatic appendages forming the genital operculum.

operc, the combined first pair of middle body appendages that make up the genital covering.

(From Parker and Haswell, Text book of Zoology, after Leuckart.)

The genera Belinurus, Aglaspis, Prestwichia, Hemiaspis and Bunodes consist of small forms which occur in Palaeozoic rocks. In none of them are the appendages known, but in the form of the two carapaces and the presence of free somites they are distinctly intermediate between Limulus and the Trilobitae. The young form of Limulus itself (fig. 40) is also similar to a Trilobite so far as its segmentation and trilobation are concerned. The lateral eyes of Limulus appear to be identical in structure and position with those of certain Trilobitae.

The genera Belinurus, Aglaspis, Prestwichia, Hemiaspis, and Bunodes include small species found in Palaeozoic rocks. None of these have known appendages, but their two carapaces and the presence of free segments clearly show they are intermediate between Limulus and Trilobitae. The juvenile form of Limulus (fig. 40) also resembles a Trilobite in terms of its segmentation and trilobation. The lateral eyes of Limulus seem to have the same structure and position as those of certain Trilobitae.




Fig. 46.—Eurypterus Fischeri, Eichwald. Silurian of Rootzikil. Restoration after Schmidt. The dorsal aspect is presented showing the prosomatic shield with paired compound eyes and the prosomatic appendages II. to VI. The small first pair of appendages is concealed from view by the carapace, 1 to 12 are the somites of the opisthosoma; 13, the post-anal spine.
(From Zittel’s Text-book of Palaeontology, The Macmillan Co, New York, 1896.)

Order 2. Gigantostraca (figs. 46, 47).—Free-swimming forms, with the appendages of the 6th or 5th and 6th pairs flattened or lengthened to act as oars; segments of mesosoma and metasoma (= opisthosoma), twelve in number.

Order 2. Gigantostraca (figs. 46, 47).—These are free-swimming species, with the appendages of the 5th or 6th pair flattened or elongated to function as paddles; there are twelve segments in the mesosoma and metasoma (= opisthosoma).

303

303

Appendages of anterior pair very large and chelate.

Appendages of the front pair are very large and claw-like.

Sub-order Pterygotomorpha, Pterygotidae (Pterygotus).

Sub-order Pterygotomorpha, Pterygotidae (Pterygotus).

Appendages of anterior pair minute and chelate.

Appendages of the front pair are tiny and pincer-like.

Sub-order Eurypteromorpha

Suborder Eurypteromorpha

Stylonuridae (Stylonurus).

Stylonuridae (Stylonurus).

Eurypteridae (Eurypterus, Slimonia).

Eurypterids (Eurypterus, Slimonia).

From Zittel’s Palaeontology.
Fig. 47.—Pterygotus osiliensis, Schmidt. Silurian of Rootzikil. Restoration of the ventral surface, about a third natural size, after Schmidt.

a, Camerostome or epistoma.

a, Camerostome or epistome.

m, Chilarium or metasternite of the prosoma (so-called metastoma).

m, Chilarium or metasternite of the prosoma (commonly known as metastoma).

oc, The compound eyes.

Compound eyes.

1 to 8, Segments of the sixth prosomatic appendage.

1 to 8, Parts of the sixth body segment.

I′ to V′, First five opisthosomatic somites.

I′ to V′, First five opisthosomatic segments.

7′, Sixth opisthosomatic somite.

7′, Sixth abdominal segment.

[Observe the powerful gnathobases of the sixth pair of prosomatic limbs and the median plates behind m. The dotted line on somite I indicates the position of the genital operculum which was probably provided with branchial lamellae.]

Remarks.—The Gigantostraca are frequently spoken of as “the Eurypterines.” Not more than thirty species are known. They became extinct in Palaeozoic times, and are chiefly found in the Upper Silurian, though extending upwards as far as the Carboniferous. They may be regarded as “macrourous” Xiphosura; that is to say, Xiphosura in which the nomomeristic number of eighteen well-developed somites is present and the posterior ones form a long tail-like region of the body. There still appears to be some doubt whether in the sub-order Eurypteromorpha the first pair of prosomatic appendages (fig. 46) is atrophied, or whether, if present, it has the form of a pair of tactile palps or of minute chelae. Though there are indications of lamelliform respiratory appendages on mesosomatic somites following that bearing the genital operculum, we cannot be said to have any proper knowledge as to such appendages, and further evidence with regard to them is much to be desired. (For literature see Zittel, 22*.)

Remarks.—Gigantostraca are often referred to as “the Eurypterines.” No more than thirty species are known. They went extinct during Palaeozoic times and are primarily found in the Upper Silurian, although they also extend into the Carboniferous. They can be viewed as “macrourous” Xiphosura; that is, Xiphosura characterized by the typical eighteen well-developed segments, with the last ones forming a long tail-like part of the body. There is still some uncertainty regarding whether the first pair of prosomatic appendages (fig. 46) in the sub-order Eurypteromorpha is atrophied or, if they exist, whether they are shaped like tactile palps or small chelae. Although there are signs of lamelliform respiratory appendages on the mesosomatic segments following the one with the genital operculum, we still do not have a thorough understanding of these appendages, and more evidence about them is greatly needed. (For literature see Zittel, 22*.)

Grade b (of the Eu-arachnida). EMBOLOBRANCHIA (Aeropneustea).

Grade b (of the Eu-arachnida). EMBOLOBRANCHIA (Aeropneustea).

In primitive forms the respiratory lamellae of the appendages of the 3rd, 4th, 5th and eth, or of the 1st and 2nd mesosomatic somites are sunk beneath the surface of the body, and become adapted to breathe atmospheric oxygen, forming the leaves of the so-called lung-books. In specialized forms these pulmonary sacs are wholly or partly replaced by tracheal tubes. The appendages of the mesosoma generally suppressed; in the more primitive forms one or two pairs may be retained as organs subservient to reproduction or silk-spinning. Mouth situated more forwards than in Delobranchia, no share in mastication being taken by the basal segments of the 5th and 6th pairs of prosomatic appendages. Lateral eyes, when present, represented by separate ocelli.

In early versions, the respiratory gills of the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th appendages, or of the 1st and 2nd body segments, are located beneath the body's surface and adapt to breathe atmospheric oxygen, forming the leaves of what's known as lung-books. In more specialized versions, these lung sacs are completely or partially replaced by tracheal tubes. The appendages of the middle body segment are usually reduced; in more primitive species, one or two pairs may remain for reproduction or silk-spinning functions. The mouth is positioned more forward than in Delobranchia, with the basal segments of the 5th and 6th pairs of front appendages not involved in chewing. Lateral eyes, when present, are represented as separate ocelli.

The prae-genital somite, after appearing in the embryo, either is obliterated (Scorpio, Galeodes, Opilioand others) or is retained as a reduced narrow region of the body, the “waist,” between prosoma and mesosoma. It is represented by a full-sized tergal plate in the Pseudo-scorpiones.

The pre-genital somite, after showing up in the embryo, either disappears (Scorpio, Galeodes, Opilio and others) or stays as a slim section of the body, the “waist,” between the prosoma and mesosoma. It appears as a full-sized tergal plate in the Pseudo-scorpiones.

Restored after Thorell’s indications by R.I. Pocock.
Fig. 48.—Dorsal view of a restoration of Palaeophonus nuncius, Thorell. The Silurian scorpion from Gothland.

Section α. Pectinifera.—The primitive distinction between the mesosoma and the metasoma retained, the latter consisting of six somites and the former of six somites in the adult, each of which is furnished during growth with a pair of appendages. Including the prae-genital somite (fig. 16), which is suppressed in the adult, there are thirteen somites behind the prosoma. The appendages of the 1st and 2nd mesosomatic somites persisting as the genital operculum and pectones respectively, those of the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th somites (? in Palaeophonus) sinking below the surface during growth in connexion with the formation of the four pairs of pulmonary sacs (see fig. 17). Lateral eyes monostichous.

Section α. Pectinifera.—The basic distinction between the mesosoma and the metasoma is maintained, with the latter having six segments and the former also having six segments in the adult stage. Each segment develops a pair of appendages as it grows. Including the prae-genital segment (fig. 16), which is absent in adults, there are thirteen segments behind the prosoma. The appendages of the 1st and 2nd mesosomatic segments persist as the genital operculum and pectones, while the appendages of the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th segments (? in Palaeophonus) retreat below the surface during growth, which is linked to the formation of the four pairs of pulmonary sacs (see fig. 17). The lateral eyes are arranged in a single row.

Order 1. Scorpiones.—Prosoma covered by a single dorsal shield, bearing typically median and lateral eyes; its sternal elements reduced to a single plate lodged between or behind the basal segments of the 5th and 6th pairs of appendages. Appendages of 1st pair tri-segmented, chelate; of 2nd pair chelate, with their basal segments subserving mastication; of 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs similar in form and function, except that in recent and Carboniferous forms the basal segments of the 3rd and 4th are provided with sterno-coxal (maxillary) lobes, those of the 4th pair meeting in the middle line and underlying the mouth. The five posterior somites of the metasoma constricted to form a “tail,” the post-anal sclerite persisting as a weapon of offence and provided with a pair of poison glands (see figs. 8, 10, 12, 13, 14, 15, 21 and 22).

Order 1. Scorpiones.—The prosoma is covered by a single top shield, which typically has median and lateral eyes; the sternal parts are reduced to a single plate located between or behind the base segments of the 5th and 6th pairs of appendages. The appendages of the 1st pair are made up of three segments and are chelate; the 2nd pair is also chelate, with their base segments serving a chewing function; the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs are similar in shape and function, except that in recent and Carboniferous species, the base segments of the 3rd and 4th pairs have sterno-coxal (maxillary) lobes, with the 4th pair meeting at the center and located under the mouth. The five back segments of the metasoma are narrowed to form a "tail," with the post-anal sclerite remaining as a weapon and containing a pair of poison glands (see figs. 8, 10, 12, 13, 14, 15, 21 and 22).

Sub-order Apoxypoda.—The 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs of appendages short, stout, tapering, the segments about as wide as long, except the apical, which is distally slender, pointed, slightly curved, and without distinct movable claws.

Sub-order Apoxypoda.—The 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs of appendages are short, thick, and tapering; the segments are roughly as wide as they are long, except for the tip segment, which is slender, pointed, slightly curved, and has no distinct movable claws.

Family—Palaeophonidae, Palaeophonus (figs. 48 and 49).

Family—Palaeophonidae, *Palaeophonus* (figs. 48 and 49).

Sub-order Dionychopoda.—The 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs of appendages slender, not evenly tapering, the segments longer than wide; the apical segment short, distally truncate, and provided with a pair of movable claws. Basal segments of the 5th and 6th pairs of appendages abutting against the sternum of the prosoma (see fig. 10 and figs. 51, 52 and 53).

Sub-order Dionychopoda.—The 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs of appendages are slender and not uniformly tapered, with the segments being longer than they are wide. The last segment is short, with a flat end, and has a pair of movable claws. The base segments of the 5th and 6th pairs of appendages connect with the sternum of the prosoma (see fig. 10 and figs. 51, 52, and 53).

Family—Pandinidae (Pandinus, Opisthophthalmus, Urodacus).

Family—Pandinidae (Pandinus, Opisthophthalmus, Urodacus).

 ”   Vejovidae (Vaejovis, Jurus, Euscorpius, Broteas).

”   Vejovidae (Vaejovis, Jurus, Euscorpius, Broteas).

 ”   Bothriuridae (Bothriurus, Cercophonius).

Bothriuridae (Bothriurus, Cercophonius).

 ”   Buthidae (Buthus, Centrums).

Buthidae (Buthus, Centrums).

 ”   *Cyclophthalmidae (Cydophthalmus)  Carboniferous.

Cyclophthalmidae (Cydophthalmus)  Carboniferous.

 ”   *Eoscorpiidae (Eoscorpius, Centromachus)  Carboniferous.

Eoscorpiidae (Eoscorpius, Centromachus) Carboniferous.




Fig. 49.—Ventral view of a restoration of Palaeophonus Hunteri, Pocock, the Silurian scorpion from Lesmahagow, Scotland. Restored by R.I. Pocock. The meeting of the coxae of all the prosomatic limbs in front of the pentagonal sternum; the space for a genital operculum; the pair of pectens, and the absence of any evidence of pulmonary stigmata are noticeable in this specimen.
(See Pocock, Quart Jour. Micr. Sci., 1901.)

Remarks on the Order Scorpiones.—The Scorpion is one of the great animals of ancient lore and tradition. It and the crab are the only two invertebrates which had impressed the minds of early men sufficiently to be raised to the dignity of astronomical representation. It is all the more remarkable that the scorpion proves to be the oldest animal form of high elaboration which has persisted to the present day. In the Upper Silurian two specimens of a scorpion have been found (figs. 48, 49), one in Gothland and one in Scotland, 304 which would be recognized at once as true scorpions by a child or a savage. The Silurian scorpion Palaeophonus, differs, so far as obvious points are concerned, from a modern scorpion only in the thickness of its legs and in their terminating in strong spike-like joints, instead of being slight and provided with a pair of terminal claws. The legs of the modern scorpion (fig. 10; fig. 51) are those of a terrestrial Arthropod, such as a beetle; whilst those of the Silurian scorpion are the legs of an aquatic Arthropod, such as a crab or lobster. It is probable that the Silurian scorpion was an aquatic animal, and that its respiratory lamellae were still projecting from the surface of the body to serve as branchiae. No trace of “stigmata,” the orifices of the lung-chambers of modern scorpions, can be found in the Scottish specimen of Palaeophonus, which presents the ventral surface of the animal to view. On the other hand, no trace of respiratory appendages excepting the pectens can be detected in the specimen (see fig. 49).

Remarks on the Order Scorpiones.—The scorpion is one of the significant creatures from ancient stories and traditions. Along with the crab, it's one of the only two invertebrates that had such an impact on early humans that they became symbols in astronomy. It's particularly interesting that the scorpion is the oldest complex animal form that has survived to this day. In the Upper Silurian period, two scorpion specimens were discovered (figs. 48, 49), one in Gothland and one in Scotland, which would be easily recognized as true scorpions by a child or a primitive person. The Silurian scorpion Palaeophonus, in terms of noticeable features, differs from a modern scorpion mainly by the thickness of its legs and the fact that they end in strong, spike-like joints rather than being slender with a pair of terminal claws. The legs of the modern scorpion (fig. 10; fig. 51) resemble those of a land-dwelling arthropod, like a beetle, while the legs of the Silurian scorpion resemble those of an aquatic arthropod, such as a crab or lobster. It's likely that the Silurian scorpion was aquatic, with its respiratory lamellae still extending from the body’s surface to function as gills. No signs of “stigmata,” the openings of the lung chambers found in modern scorpions, can be seen in the Scottish specimen of Palaeophonus, which shows the animal’s underside. On the other hand, the specimen only shows pectens and no other respiratory appendages (see fig. 49).




Fig. 50.—Comparison of the sixth prosomatic limb of a recent scorpion (B), of Palaeophonus (C), and of Limulus (A), showing their agreement in the number of segments; in the existence of a movable spine, Sp, at the distal border of the fifth segment; in the correspondence of the two claws at the free end of the limb of Scorpio with two spines similarly placed in Limulus; and, lastly, in the correspondence of the three talon-like spines carried on the distal margin of segment six of recent scorpions with the four larger but similarly situated spines on the leg of Limulus; s, groove dividing the ankylosed segments 4 and 5 of the Limulus leg into two.
(After Pocock, Q. J. Mic. Sci., 1901.)
From Lankester, Journ. Linn. Soc. Zool. vol. xvi., 1881.
Fig. 51.—Drawing from life of the desert scorpion, Buthusaustralis, Lin., from Biskra, N. Africa.

Fossil scorpions of the modern type are found in the Coal Measures. At the present day scorpions of various genera are found in all the warm regions of the world. In Europe they occur as far north as Bavaria and the south of France. The largest species measure 9 in. from the front of the head to the end of the sting, and occur in tropical India and Africa. Between 200 and 300 species are known. The scorpions use their large chelae for seizing prey and for fighting with one another. They never use the sting when (as frequently happens) they attack another scorpion, because, as was ascertained by A.G. Bourne (24), the poison exuded by the sting has no injurious effect on another scorpion nor on the scorpion itself. The stories of a scorpion stinging itself to death when placed in a circle of burning coals are due to erroneous observation. When placed in such a position the scorpion faints and becomes inert. It is found (Bourne, 24) that some species of scorpion faint at a temperature of 40° Cent. They recover on being removed to cooler conditions. A scorpion having seized its prey (usually a large insect, or small reptile or mammal) with the large chelae brings its tail over its head, and deliberately punctures the struggling victim twice with its sting (fig. 52). The poison of the sting is similar to snake-poison (Calmette), and rapidly paralyses animals which are not immune to it. It is probably only sickly adults or young children of the human race who can be actually killed by a scorpion’s sting. When the scorpion has paralysed its prey in this way, the two short chelicerae are brought into play (fig. 53). By the crushing action of their pincers, and an alternate backward and forward movement, they bring the soft blood-holding tissues of the victim close to the minute pin-hole aperture which is the scorpion’s mouth. The muscles acting on the bulb-like pharynx now set up a pumping action (see Huxley, 26); and the juices—but no solid matter, excepting such as is reduced to powder—are sucked into the scorpion’s alimentary canal. A scorpion appears to prefer for its food another scorpion, and will suck out the juices of an individual as large as itself. When this has taken place, the gorged scorpion becomes distended and tense in the mesosomatic region. It is certain that the absorbed juices do not occupy the alimentary canal alone, but pass also into its caecal off-sets which are the ducts of the gastric glands (see fig. 33).

Fossil scorpions of the modern kind are found in the Coal Measures. Today, scorpions from various species are found in all warm regions of the world. In Europe, they can be located as far north as Bavaria and the south of France. The largest species measure 9 inches from the front of the head to the end of the sting and can be found in tropical India and Africa. There are between 200 and 300 known species. Scorpions use their large pincers to catch prey and to fight each other. They never use their sting when (as often happens) they attack another scorpion because, as determined by A.G. Bourne (24), the venom that comes from their sting doesn't harm another scorpion or even themselves. The tales of a scorpion stinging itself to death when placed in a circle of burning coals are based on mistaken observations. When positioned in such a way, the scorpion faints and becomes inactive. It turns out (Bourne, 24) that some scorpion species faint at temperatures of 40° C. They recover once moved to cooler conditions. After a scorpion has captured its prey (usually a large insect, small reptile, or mammal) with its large pincers, it arches its tail over its head and deliberately punctures the struggling victim twice with its sting (fig. 52). The venom from the sting is similar to snake venom (Calmette) and quickly paralyzes animals that aren't immune to it. Only sickly adults or young children among humans are likely to be killed by a scorpion's sting. Once the scorpion has paralyzed its prey this way, it uses its two short mouthparts (fig. 53). With a crushing motion from its pincers, accompanied by a back-and-forth movement, they bring the soft, blood-filled tissues of the victim close to the tiny opening that is the scorpion's mouth. The muscles acting on the bulb-like throat then create a pumping action (see Huxley, 26); and the juices—but no solid material, except for what is reduced to powder—are sucked into the scorpion's digestive tract. A scorpion seems to prefer eating another scorpion and will suck out the juices of one as large as itself. Once this happens, the engorged scorpion becomes swollen and tense in the body region. It's clear that the absorbed juices not only fill the digestive tract but also enter its pouch-like extensions, which are the ducts of the gastric glands (see fig. 33).

From Lankester, Journ. Linn. Soc. From Lankester, Journ. Linn. Soc.
Fig. 52.—Drawing from life of the Italian scorpion Euscorpius italicus, Herbst, holding a blue-bottle fly with its left chela, and carefully piercing it between head and thorax with its sting. Two insertions of the sting are effected and the fly is instantly paralysed by the poison so introduced into its body. Fig. 53.—The same scorpion carrying the now paralysed fly held in its chelicerae, the chelae liberated for attack and defence. Drawn from life.

All Arachnida, including Limulus, feed by suctorial action in essentially the same way as Scorpio.

All arachnids, including Limulus, feed by sucking in their food in basically the same way as Scorpio.

Scorpions of various species have been observed to make a hissing noise when disturbed, or even when not disturbed. The sound is produced by stridulating organs developed on the basal joints of the limbs, which differ in position and character in different genera (see Pocock, 27). Scorpions copulate with the ventral surfaces in contact. The eggs are fertilized, practically in the ovary, and develop in situ. The young are born fully formed and are carried by the mother on her back. As many as thirty have been counted in a brood. For information as to the embryology of scorpions, the reader is referred to the works named in the bibliography below. Scorpions do not possess spinning organs nor form either snares or nests, so far as is known. But some species inhabiting sandy deserts form extensive burrows. The fifth pair of prosomatic appendages is used by these scorpions when burrowing, to kick back the sand as the burrow is excavated by the great chelae.

Scorpions of different species can be heard making a hissing sound when they’re disturbed, or even when they aren’t. This sound comes from stridulating organs located at the base of their limbs, which vary in position and characteristics among different genera (see Pocock, 27). Scorpions mate with their bellies touching. The eggs are fertilized almost right inside the ovary and develop in situ. The young are born fully formed and are carried on the mother’s back. A single brood can have up to thirty young. For details on scorpion embryology, readers can check the works mentioned in the bibliography below. Scorpions don’t have spinning organs and don’t create snares or nests, as far as we know. However, some species living in sandy deserts dig extensive burrows. The fifth pair of their forelimbs is used for kicking back sand while the burrow is dug out with their large pincers.

References to works dealing with the taxonomy and geographical distribution of scorpions are given at the end of this article (28).

References to works about the classification and geographical distribution of scorpions are provided at the end of this article (28).

Section β. Epectinata.—The primitive distinction between the mesosoma and the metasoma wholly or almost wholly obliterated, the two regions uniting to form an opisthosoma, which never consists of more than twelve somites and never bears appendages or breathing-organs behind the 4th somite. The breathing-organs of the opisthosoma, when present, represented by two pairs of stigmata, opening either upon the 1st and 2nd (Pedipalpi) or the 2nd and 3rd somites (Solifugae, Pseudo-scorpiones), or by a single pair upon the 3rd (? 2nd) somite (Opiliones) of the opisthosoma, there being rarely an additional stigma on the 4th (some Solifugae). The appendages of the 2nd somite of the opisthosoma absent, rarely minute and bud-like (some Amblypygi), never pectiniform. A prae-genital somite is often present either in a reduced condition forming a waist (Pedipalpi, Araneae, Palpigradi) or as a full-sized tergal plate (Pseudo-scorpiones); in some it is entirely atrophied (Solifugae, Holosomata, and Rhynchostomi). Lateral eyes when present diplostichous.

Section β. Epectinata.—The basic difference between the mesosoma and the metasoma is completely or almost completely gone, with the two areas merging to form an opisthosoma, which never has more than twelve segments and never has appendages or breathing organs behind the 4th segment. The breathing organs of the opisthosoma, when they exist, are represented by two pairs of stigmata that open either on the 1st and 2nd segments (Pedipalpi) or the 2nd and 3rd segments (Solifugae, Pseudo-scorpiones), or by a single pair on the 3rd (? 2nd) segment (Opiliones) of the opisthosoma, with an additional stigma on the 4th being rare (some Solifugae). The appendages of the 2nd segment of the opisthosoma are absent, rarely tiny and bud-like (some Amblypygi), and never pectiniform. A prae-genital segment is often present, either reduced to form a waist (Pedipalpi, Araneae, Palpigradi) or as a full-sized tergal plate (Pseudo-scorpiones); in some cases, it is completely absent (Solifugae, Holosomata, and Rhynchostomi). Lateral eyes, when present, are arranged in two rows.

Remarks.—The Epectinate Arachnids do not stand so close to the aquatic ancestors of the Embolobranchia as do the Pectiniferous scorpions. At the same time we are not justified in supposing that the scorpions stand in any way as an intermediate grade between any of the existing Epectinata and the Delobranchia. It is probable that the Pedipalpi, Araneae, and Podogona have been separately evolved as distinct lines of descent from the ancient aquatic Arachnida. The Holosomata and Rhynchostomi are probably offshoots from the stem of the Araneae, and it is not unlikely (in view of the structure of the prosomatic somites of the Tartarides) that the Solifugae are connected in origin with the Pedipalpi. The appearance of tracheae in place of lung-sacs cannot be regarded as a starting-point for a new line of descent comprising all the tracheate forms; 305 tracheae seem to have developed independently in different lines of descent. On the whole, the Epectinata are highly specialized and degenerate forms, though there are few, if any, animals which surpass the spiders in rapidity of movement, deadliness of attack and constructive instincts.

Remarks.—The Epectinate Arachnids are not as closely related to the aquatic ancestors of the Embolobranchia as the Pectiniferous scorpions are. However, we shouldn't assume that scorpions serve as an intermediate form between any existing Epectinata and Delobranchia. It’s likely that the Pedipalpi, Araneae, and Podogona evolved separately as distinct lineages from ancient aquatic Arachnida. The Holosomata and Rhynchostomi probably branched off from the Araneae lineage, and it’s quite possible (considering the structure of the prosomatic somites of the Tartarides) that the Solifugae are originally linked to the Pedipalpi. The emergence of tracheae instead of lung-sacs can't be seen as the starting point for a new lineage that includes all tracheate forms; 305 tracheae appear to have developed independently in different evolutionary paths. Overall, the Epectinata are highly specialized and degenerate forms, though there are few, if any, creatures that surpass spiders in speed of movement, lethality of attack, and building instincts.

From Lankester, Q. J. Mic. Sci. N.S. vol. xxi., 1881.
Fig. 54.—Thelyphonus, one of the Pedipalpi.

A, Ventral view.

A, Bottom view.

I, Chelicera (detached).

I, Chelicera (removed).

II, Chelae.

II, Claws.

III, Palpiform limb.

III, Soft limb.

IV to VI, The walking legs.

IV to VI, The walking legs.

stc, Sterno-coxal process (gnathobase) of the chelae.

stc, Sterno-coxal process (jaw base) of the claws.

st1, Anterior sternal plate of the prosoma.

st1, Front sternal plate of the prosoma.

st2, Posterior sternal plate of the prosoma.

st2, Back sternal plate of the prosoma.

pregen, Position of the prae-genital somite (not seen).

pregen, Position of the pre-genital somite (not visible).

l, l, Position of the two pulmonary sacs of the right side.

l, l, Position of the two lung sacs on the right side.

1 to 11, Somites of the opisthosoma (mesosoma plus metasoma).

1 to 11, Segments of the opisthosoma (middle body plus hind body).

msg, Stigmata of the tergo-sternal muscles.

msg, Signs of the back-sternum muscles.

an, Anus.

an, Anus.

B, Dorsal view of the opisthosoma of the same.

B, Dorsal view of the opisthosoma of the same.

pregen, The prae-genital somite.

pregen, The pre-genital somite.

p, The tergal stigmata of the tergo-sternal muscles.

p, The back stigmata of the back-to-belly muscles.

paf, Post-anal segmented filament corresponding to the post-anal spine of Limulus.

paf, Post-anal segmented filament that matches the post-anal spine of Limulus.

Order 2. Pedipalpi (figs. 54 to 59).—Appendages of 1st pair bisegmented, without poison gland; of 2nd pair prehensile, their basal segments underlying the proboscis, and furnished with sterno-coxal (maxillary) process, the apical segment tipped with a single movable or immovable claw; appendages of 3rd pair different from the remainder, tactile in function, with at least the apical segment many-jointed and clawless. The ventral surface of the prosoma bears prosternal, metasternal and usually mesosternal chitine-plates (fig. 55). A narrow prae-genital somite is present between opisthosoma and prosoma (figs. 55, 57). Opisthosoma consisting of eleven somites, almost wholly without visible appendages. Intromittent organ of male beneath the genital operculum (= sternum of the 1st somite of opisthosoma).

Order 2. Pedipalpi (figs. 54 to 59).—The first pair of appendages is bisegmented and lacks a poison gland; the second pair is prehensile, with their basal segments located under the proboscis and equipped with a sterno-coxal (maxillary) process, while the apical segment has either one movable or immovable claw. The appendages of the third pair differ from the others; they serve a tactile function and have at least the apical segment which is made up of multiple joints and has no claws. The ventral side of the prosoma features prosternal, metasternal, and usually mesosternal chitin plates (fig. 55). There is a narrow pre-genital segment between the opisthosoma and the prosoma (figs. 55, 57). The opisthosoma is made up of eleven segments, mostly without any visible appendages. The male's intromittent organ is located beneath the genital operculum (= sternum of the first segment of the opisthosoma).




Fig. 55.—Thelyphonus sp. Ventral view of the anterior portion of the body to show the three prosomatic sternal plates a, b, c, and the rudimentary sternal element of the prae-genital somite; opisth 1, first somite of the opisthosoma.
From a drawing made by Pickard—Cambridge, under the direction of R.I. Pocock.

Note.—The possibility of another interpretation of the anterior somites of the mesosoma and the prae-genital somite must be borne in mind. Possibly, though not probably, the somites carrying the two lung-sacs correspond to the first two lung-bearing somites of Scorpio, and it is the genital opening which has shifted. The same caution applies in the case of the Araneae. Excalation of one or of two anterior mesosomatic somites, besides the prae-genital somite, would then have to be supposed to have occurred also.

Note.—It's important to consider the possibility of a different interpretation of the anterior somites of the mesosoma and the prae-genital somite. It's possible, though not likely, that the somites that contain the two lung sacs correspond to the first two lung-bearing somites of Scorpio, and that it's the genital opening that has shifted. The same caution should be taken in the case of the Araneae. We would also have to assume that one or two of the anterior mesosomatic somites, in addition to the prae-genital somite, have undergone changes.

Fig. 56—Thelyphonus assamensis ♂. Ventral surface of the anterior region of the opisthosoma, the first somite being pushed upwards and forwards so as to expose the subjacent structures. opistho 1, First somite of the opisthosoma; opistho 2, second do.; g, genital aperture; l, edges of the lamellae of the lung-books; m, stigmata of tergo-sternal muscles.
(Original drawing by Pocock.)

Sub-order a. Uropygi.—Prosoma longer than wide, its sternal area very narrow, furnished with a large prosternal and metasternal plate, and often with a small mesosternal sclerite. Appendages of 2nd pair with their basal segments united in the middle line and incapable of lateral movement; appendages of 3rd pair with only the apical segment many-jointed. Opisthosoma without trace of appendages; its posterior somites narrowed to form a movable tail for the support of the post-anal sclerite, which has no poison glands.

Sub-order a. Uropygi.—The prosoma is longer than it is wide, with a very narrow sternal area that includes a large prosternal and metasternal plate, and often has a small mesosternal sclerite. The appendages of the second pair have their basal segments fused in the middle and can't move sideways; the appendages of the third pair have only the last segment multi-jointed. The opisthosoma has no traces of appendages; its back segments narrow to create a movable tail that supports the post-anal sclerite, which lacks poison glands.

Tribe 1. Urotricha.—Dorsal area of prosoma covered with a single shield (? two in Geralinura), bearing median and lateral eyes. Post-anal sclerite modified as a long, many-jointed feeler. Appendages of 2nd pair folding in a horizontal plane, completely chelate, the claw immovably united to the sixth segment. Respiratory organs present in the form of pulmonary sacs.

Tribe 1. Urotricha.—The dorsal area of the prosoma is covered with a single shield (? two in Geralinura), featuring median and lateral eyes. The post-anal sclerite is modified into a long, many-jointed feeler. The appendages of the second pair fold in a horizontal plane and are completely chelate, with the claw immovably attached to the sixth segment. The respiratory organs are present as pulmonary sacs.

Family—Thelyphonidae (Thelyphonus (fig. 54), Hypoctonus, *Geralinura).

Family—Thelyphonidae (Thelyphonus, Hypoctonus, Geralinura).

Tribe 2. Tartarides.—Small degenerate forms with the dorsal area of the prosoma furnished with two shields, a larger in front covering the anterior four somites, and a smaller behind covering the 5th and 6th somites; the latter generally subdivided into a right and left portion. There is also a pair of narrow tergal sclerites interposed between the anterior and posterior shields. Eyes evanescent or absent. Appendages of 2nd pair folding in a vertical plane, not chelate, the claw long and movable. Post-anal sclerite short and undivided. No distinct respiratory stigmata behind the sterna of the 1st and 2nd somites of the opisthosoma.

Tribe 2. Tartarides.—Small, less developed forms with the upper area of the prosoma having two shields, a larger one in front that covers the first four segments, and a smaller one behind that covers the 5th and 6th segments; the smaller shield is usually split into a right and left part. There is also a pair of narrow tergal plates between the front and back shields. Eyes are either faint or missing. The appendages of the second pair fold in a vertical plane, are not claw-like, and have a long, movable claw. The post-anal plate is short and undivided. There are no distinct breathing openings behind the sterna of the first and second segments of the opisthosoma.

Family-Hubbardiidae (Schizomus, Hubbardia) (figs. 57-59).

Family-Hubbardiidae (Schizomus, Hubbardia) (figs. 57-59).

Fig. 57.—Schizomus crassicaudatus, one of the Tartarid Pedipalpi. Ventral view of a female with the appendages cut short near the base. Fig. 58.—Schizomus crassicaudatus, a Tartarid Pedipalp. Dorsal view of a male with the appendages cut short.

a, Prosternum of prosoma.

Prosternum of prosoma.

b, Metasternum of prosoma.

Metasternum of the prosoma.

prae-gen, The prae-genital somite.

prae-gen, The pre-genital somite.

I opisth, First somite of the opisthosoma.

I opisth, first segment of the opisthosoma.

II opisth, Eleventh somite of the opisthosoma.

II opisth, Eleventh segment of the opisthosoma.

pa, Post-anal lobe of the female (compare the jointed filament in Thelyphonus, fig. 54).

pa, Post-anal lobe of the female (compare the segmented filament in Thelyphonus, fig. 54).


I to VI. The prosomatic appendages.

I to VI. The prosomatic appendages.

a, Anterior plate.

Anterior plate.

b, Posterior plate of the prosomatic carapace.

b, Back plate of the front shell.

prae-gen, Tergum of the prae-genital somite.

prae-gen, Back of the prae-genital segment.

11, The eleventh somite of the opisthosoma.

11, The eleventh segment of the abdomen.

pa, Post-anal lobe of the male—a conical body with narrow basal stalk.

pa, Post-anal lobe of the male—a cone-shaped structure with a narrow base.

(Original drawing by Pickard-Cambridge, directed by Pocock.) (Original as preceding.)

Sub-order b. Amblypygi.—Prosoma wider than long, covered above by a single shield bearing median and lateral eyes, which have diplostichous ommatea. Sternal area broad, with prosternal, two mesosternal, and metasternal plates, the prosternum projecting forwards beneath the coxae of the 2nd pair of appendages. Appendages of 2nd pair folding in a horizontal plane; their basal segments 306 freely movable; claw free or fused; basal segments of 4th and 5th pairs widely separated by the sternal area; appendages of 3rd pair with all the segments except the proximal three, forming a many-jointed flagellum. Opisthosoma without post-anal sclerite and posterior caudal elongation: with frequently a pair of small lobate appendages on the sternum of the 3rd somite. Respiratory organs, as in Urotricha.

Sub-order b. Amblypygi.—The prosoma is wider than it is long, covered on top by a single shield that has median and lateral eyes, which feature diplostichous ommatidia. The sternal area is broad, with one prosternal plate, two mesosternal plates, and one metasternal plate, with the prosternum projecting forward beneath the coxae of the second pair of appendages. The second pair of appendages folds in a horizontal plane; their basal segments 306 are freely movable; the claw may be free or fused; the basal segments of the fourth and fifth pairs are widely separated by the sternal area; the third pair's appendages have all segments except the proximal three forming a many-jointed flagellum. The opisthosoma lacks a post-anal sclerite and posterior caudal elongation, often having a pair of small lobate appendages on the sternum of the third somite. The respiratory organs are similar to those in Urotricha.

Family—Phrynichidae (Phrynichus, Damon).

Family—Phrynichidae (Phrynichus, Damon).

 ”   Admetidae (Admetus, Heterophrynus).

Admetidae (Admetus, Heterophrynus).

 ”   Charontidae (Charon, Sarax).

Charontidae (Charon, Sarax).

(Family ?)—*Graeophonus.

(Family ?)—*Graeophonus.

Fig. 59.—Schizomus crassicaudatus, one of the Pedipalpi. Lateral view of a male. II to VI, the prosomatic appendages, the first being concealed (see fig. 58); 5, the fifth, and 11, the eleventh tergites of the opisthosoma; pa, the conical post-anal lobe.
(Original as preceding.)

Remarks.—The Pedipalpi are confined to the tropics and warmer temperate regions of both hemispheres. Fossil forms occur in the Carboniferous. The small forms known as Schizomus and Hubbardia are of special interest from a morphological point of view. The Pedipalpi have no poison glands. (Reference to literature (29).)

Remarks.—The Pedipalpi are found only in tropical and warmer temperate regions of both hemispheres. Fossil examples date back to the Carboniferous period. The small species known as Schizomus and Hubbardia are particularly interesting from a morphological perspective. The Pedipalpi do not have poison glands. (Reference to literature (29).)

Fig. 60.—Liphistius desultor, Schiödte, one of the Araneae Mesothelae. Dorsal view. I to VI, the prosomatic appendages; 4, 5, 6, the fourth, fifth and sixth tergites of the opisthosoma. Between the bases of the sixth pair of limbs and behind the prosomatic carapace is seen the tergite of the small prae-genital somite.
(Original by Pickard-Cambridge and Pocock.)

Order 3. Araneae (figs. 60 to 64.).—Prosoma covered with a single shield and typically furnished with median and lateral eyes of diplostichous structure, as in the Amblypygi. The sternal surface wide, continuously chitinized, but with prosternal and metasternal elements generally distinguishable at the anterior and posterior ends respectively of the large mesosternurm. Prosternum underlying the proboscis. Appendages of 1st pair have two segments, as in Pedipalpi, but are furnished with poison gland, and are retroverts. Appendages of 2nd pair not underlying the mouth, but freely movable and, except in primitive forms, furnished with a maxillary lobe; the rest of the limb like the legs, tipped with a single claw and quite unmodified (except in ♂). Remaining pairs of appendages similar in form and function, each tipped with two or three claws. Opisthosoma when segmented showing the same number of somites as in the Pedipalpi; usually unsegmented, the prae-genital somite constricted to form the waist; the appendages of its 3rd and 4th somites retained as spinning mammillae. Respiratory organs (see fig. 63, stg), as in the Amblypygi, or with the posterior pair, rarely the anterior pair as well, replaced by tracheal tubes. Intromittent organ of male in the apical segment of the 2nd prosomatic appendage.

Order 3. Araneae (figs. 60 to 64.).—The prosoma is covered by a single shield and usually has median and lateral eyes with a diplostichous structure, similar to Amblypygi. The sternal surface is wide and entirely chitinized, but the prosternal and metasternal parts are usually distinguishable at the front and back ends of the large mesosternum. The prosternum is located beneath the proboscis. The first pair of appendages has two segments, like in Pedipalpi, but includes a poison gland and is turned backward. The second pair of appendages is not positioned under the mouth, allowing for free movement, and, except in primitive forms, has a maxillary lobe; the rest of the limb resembles the legs, ending in a single claw and is generally unmodified (except in males). The remaining pairs of appendages are similar in shape and function, with each ending in two or three claws. The opisthosoma, when segmented, has the same number of segments as in Pedipalpi; usually, it is unsegmented, with the pre-genital segment constricted to form a waist; the appendages of its third and fourth segments are retained as spinning mammillae. The respiratory organs (see fig. 63, stg) are like those in Amblypygi, or the posterior pair, and sometimes the anterior pair, may be replaced by tracheal tubes. The male's intromittent organ is located in the tip of the second prosomatic appendage.



Fig. 61.—Liphistius desultor. Ventral view with the prosomatic appendages cut short excepting the chelicerae (1) whose sharp retroverts are seen. Between the bases of the prosomatic limbs an anterior and a posterior sternal plate (black) are seen. 1, The sternum of the first opisthosomatic or genital somite covering the genital aperture and the first pair of lung-sacs. In front of it the narrow waist is formed by the soft sternal area of the praegenital somite; 2, the sternite of the second opisthosomatic somite covering the posterior pair of lung-sacs; 3 and 4, the spinning appendages (limbs) of the opisthosoma; a, inner, b, outer ramus of the appendage; 11, sternite of the eleventh somite of the opisthosoma: in front of it other rudimentary sternites; an, anus.
(Original as above.)

Sub-order a. Mesothelae (see figs. 60 to 62).—Opisthosoma distinctly segmented, furnished with 11 tergal plates, as in the Amblypygi; the ventral surface of the 1st and 2nd somites with large sternal plates, covering the genital aperture and the two pairs of pulmonary sacs, the sternal plates from the 6th to the 11th somites represented by integumental ridges, weakly chitinized in the middle. The two pairs of spinning appendages retain their primitive position in the middle of the lower surface of the opisthosoma far in advance of the anus on the 3rd and 4th somites, each appendage consisting of a stout, many-jointed outer branch and a slender, unsegmented inner branch. Prosoma as in the Mygalomorphae, except that the mesosternal area is long and narrow.

Sub-order a. Mesothelae (see figs. 60 to 62).—The opisthosoma is clearly segmented and has 11 tergal plates, similar to the Amblypygi. The ventral surface of the 1st and 2nd segments has large sternal plates that cover the genital opening and the two pairs of pulmonary sacs. The sternal plates from the 6th to the 11th segments are represented by integumental ridges that are weakly chitinized in the middle. The two pairs of spinning appendages are still in their original position on the underside of the opisthosoma, located well ahead of the anus on the 3rd and 4th segments. Each appendage consists of a thick, multi-jointed outer branch and a thin, unsegmented inner branch. The prosoma resembles that of the Mygalomorphae, except that the mesosternal area is long and narrow.

Family—Liphistiidae (Liphistius, *Arthrolycosa).

Family—Liphistiidae (Liphistius, *Arthrolycosa).

Sub-order b. Opisthothelae (see fig. 63).—Opisthosoma without trace of separate terga and sterna, the segmentation merely represented posteriorly by slight integumental folds and the sterna of the 1st and 2nd somites by the opercular plates of the pulmonary sacs. The spinning appendages migrate to the posterior end of the opisthosoma and take up a position close to the anus; the inner branches of the anterior pair either atrophy or are represented homogenetically by a plate, the cribellum, or by an undivided membranous lobe, the colulus.

Sub-order b. Opisthothelae (see fig. 63).—The opisthosoma shows no signs of separate terga and sterna; instead, segmentation is indicated only by slight folds in the skin at the back, while the sterna of the 1st and 2nd segments are represented by the opercular plates of the pulmonary sacs. The spinning appendages move to the back end of the opisthosoma, positioned close to the anus; the inner branches of the front pair either shrink away or are represented uniformly by a plate, called the cribellum, or by a single membranous lobe, known as the colulus.

Fig. 62.—Liphistius desultor. Lateral view.

I to VI, Appendages of the prosoma cut off at the base.

I to VI, Appendages of the prosoma removed at the base.

o, Ocular tubercle.

o, Eye tubercle.

prae-gen, The prae-genital somite.

prae-gen, The pre-genital somite.

1 and 2, Sternites of the first and second opisthosomatic somites.

1 and 2, Sternites of the first and second abdominal segments.

3 and 4, Appendages of the third and fourth opisthosomatic somites, which are the spinning organs, and in this genus occupy their primitive position instead of migrating to the anal region as in other spiders.

3 and 4, Appendages of the third and fourth opisthosomatic segments, which are the spinning organs, and in this genus stay in their original position instead of moving to the anal area like in other spiders.

5, Tergite of the fifth opisthosomatic somite.

5, Tergite of the fifth body segment.

11, Eleventh opisthosomatic somite; an, Anus.

11, 11th opisthosomatic somite; an, Anus.

(Original.)

Tribe 1. Mygalomorphae.—The plane of the articulation of the appendages of the 1st pair to the prosoma (the retrovert) vertical, the basal segment projecting straight forwards at its proximal end, the distal segment or fang closing backwards in a direction subparallel to the long axis of the body. Two pairs of pulmonary sacs.

Tribe 1. Mygalomorphae.—The angle where the first pair of appendages connects to the prosoma (the retrovert) is vertical, with the base segment extending straight forward at its proximal end, and the distal segment or fang closing backward in a direction nearly parallel to the long axis of the body. There are two pairs of pulmonary sacs.

Families—Theraphosidae (Avicularia, Poecilotheria). Barychelidae (Barychelus, Plagiobothrus). Dipluridae (Diplura, Macrothele). Ctenizidae (Cteniza, Nemesia). Atypidae (Atypus, Calommata).

Families—Theraphosidae (Avicularia, Poecilotheria). Barychelidae (Barychelus, Plagiobothrus). Dipluridae (Diplura, Macrothele). Ctenizidae (Cteniza, Nemesia). Atypidae (Atypus, Calommata).

Tribe 2. Arachnomorpnae.—The plane of the articulation of the appendages of the 1st pair to the prosoma horizontal, the basal segment projecting vertically downwards, at least at its proximal end, the distal segment or fang closing inwards nearly or quite at right angles to the long axis of the body. The posterior pulmonary sacs (except in Hypochilus) replaced by tracheal tubes; the anterior and posterior pairs replaced by tracheal tubes in the Caponiidae.

Tribe 2. Arachnomorpnae.—The way the first pair of appendages connects to the prosoma is flat, with the base segment sticking straight down, at least at its closest point. The end part or fang curves inward almost or completely at a right angle to the body's long axis. The back pulmonary sacs (except in Hypochilus) are replaced by tracheal tubes; the front and back pairs are replaced by tracheal tubes in the Caponiidae.

Principal families—Hypochilidae (Hypochilus). Dysderidae (Dysdera, Segestria). Caponiidae (Caponia, Nops). Filistatidae (Filistata). Uloboridae (Uloborus, Dinopis). Argiapidae (Nephila, Gasteracantha). Pholcidae (Pholcus, Artema). Agelenidae (Tegenuria). Lycosidae (Lycosa). Clubionidae (Clubiona, Olios, Sparassus) Gnaphosidae (Gnaphosa, Hemiclaea). Thomisidae (Thomisus). Attidae (Salticus). Urocteidae (Uroctea). Eresidae (Eresus).

Principal families—Hypochilidae (Hypochilus). Dysderidae (Dysdera, Segestria). Caponiidae (Caponia, Nops). Filistatidae (Filistata). Uloboridae (Uloborus, Dinopis). Argiapidae (Nephila, Gasteracantha). Pholcidae (Pholcus, Artema). Agelenidae (Tegenuria). Lycosidae (Lycosa). Clubionidae (Clubiona, Olios, Sparassus) Gnaphosidae (Gnaphosa, Hemiclaea). Thomisidae (Thomisus). Attidae (Salticus). Urocteidae (Uroctea). Eresidae (Eresus).

Remarks on the Araneae.—The Spiders are the most numerous 307 and diversified group of the Arachnida; about 2000 species are known. No noteworthy fossil spiders are known; the best-preserved are in amber of Oligocene age. Protolycosa and Arthrolycosa occur in the Carboniferous. Morphologically, the spiders are remarkable for the concentration and specialization of their structure, which is accompanied with high physiological efficiency. The larger species of Bird’s Nest Spiders (Avicularia), the opisthosoma of which is as large as a bantam’s egg, undoubtedly attack young birds, and M’Cook gives an account of the capture in its web by an ordinary house spider of a small mouse. The “retrovert” or bent-back first pair of appendages is provided with a poison gland opening on the fang or terminal segment. Spiders form at least two kinds of constructions—snares for the capture of prey and nests for the preservation of the young. The latter are only formed by the female, which is a larger and more powerful animal than the male. Like the scorpions the spiders have a special tendency to cannibalism, and accordingly the male, in approaching the female for the purpose of fertilizing her, is liable to be fallen upon and sucked dry by the object of his attentions. The sperm is removed by the male from the genital aperture into a special receptacle on the terminal segment of the 2nd prosomatic appendage. Thus held out at some distance from the body, it is cautiously advanced by the male spider to the genital aperture of the female.

Remarks on the Araneae.—Spiders are the most numerous and diverse group of the Arachnids, with around 2,000 known species. There are no significant fossil spiders discovered; the best-preserved examples are found in Oligocene amber. Protolycosa and Arthrolycosa can be found in the Carboniferous period. Morphologically, spiders are notable for their concentrated and specialized structures, which also show a high level of physiological efficiency. The larger species of Bird’s Nest Spiders (Avicularia), whose opisthosoma can be as big as a bantam’s egg, certainly prey on young birds, and M’Cook reports an ordinary house spider catching a small mouse in its web. The “retrovert” or bent-back first pair of appendages has a poison gland that opens at the fang or the last segment. Spiders create at least two types of structures—snares for catching prey and nests for caring for their young. Only the female constructs nests, and she is usually larger and stronger than the male. Like scorpions, spiders tend to exhibit cannibalistic behaviors, so when the male approaches the female to mate, he risks being attacked and drained by her. The male transfers sperm from his genital opening into a special receptacle on the last segment of his second prosomatic appendage. He then carefully moves this sperm towards the genital opening of the female.



Fig. 63.—Ventral view of a male mygalomorphous spider.

I to VI, The six pairs of prosomatic appendages.

I to VI, The six pairs of front-facing appendages.

a, Copulatory apparatus of the second appendage.

a, Mating structure of the second appendage.

b, Process of the fifth joint of the third appendage.

b, Process of the fifth joint of the third limb.

M, Mouth.

M, Mouth.

pro, Prosternite of the prosoma.

pro, Prosternite of the prosoma.

mes, Mesosternite of the prosoma: observe the contact of the coxae of the sixth pair of limbs behind it; compare Liphistius (fig. 61) where this does not occur.

mes, Mesosternite of the prosoma: note the connection of the coxae of the sixth pair of limbs behind it; compare Liphistius (fig. 61) where this is not present.

stg, Lung aperture.

stg, Lung opening.

gn, Genital aperture.

gn, Genital opening.

a, Anus with a pair of backwardly migrated spinning appendages on each side of it; compare the position of these appendages in Liphistius (fig. 61).

a, Anus with a pair of backwardly positioned spinning appendages on each side of it; compare the position of these appendages in Liphistius (fig. 61).

(From Lankester, “Limulus an Arachnid.”)
Fig. 64.—Liphistius desultor. Under side of the uplifted genital or first opisthosomatic somite of the female; g, genital aperture; p, pitted plate, probably a gland for the secretion of adhesive material for the eggs; l, the edges of the lamellae of the lung-books of the first pair.
(Original drawing by Pocock.)

For an account of the courtship and dancing of spiders, of their webs and floating lines, the reader is referred to the works of M‛Cook (30) and the Peckhams (31), whilst an excellent account of the nests of trap-door spiders is given by Moggridge (32). References to systematic works will also be found at the end of this article (33).

For details on the courtship and dancing behaviors of spiders, their webs and floating lines, check out the works of M’Cook (30) and the Peckhams (31). An outstanding description of trap-door spider nests can be found in Moggridge’s work (32). You’ll also find references to systematic studies at the end of this article (33).

Order 4. Palpigradi = Microthelyphonidae (see fig. 65).—Prosoma covered above by three plates, a larger representing the dorsal elements of the first four somites, and two smaller representing the dorsal elements of the 5th and 6th.

Order 4. Palpigradi = Microthelyphonidae (see fig. 65).—The prosoma is covered on top by three plates: one larger plate representing the dorsal parts of the first four segments, and two smaller plates representing the dorsal parts of the 5th and 6th segments.

Its ventral surface provided with one prosternal, two mesosternal and one metasternal plate. Appendages of 1st pair consisting of three segments, completely chelate, without poison gland; of 2nd pair slender, leg-like, tipped with three claws, the basal segment without sterno-coxal process taking no share in mastication, and widely separated from its fellow of the opposite side; 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th appendages similar in form to the 2nd and to each other.

Its underside features one prosternal plate, two mesosternal plates, and one metasternal plate. The first pair of appendages has three segments, fully clawed, and lacks a poison gland; the second pair is slender, resembling legs, tipped with three claws, with the base segment not having a sterno-coxal process and not involved in chewing, and they are widely spaced apart from the opposite side; the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth appendages are similar in shape to the second and to each other.

Proboscis free, not supported from below by either the prosternum or the basal segments of the appendages of the 2nd pair.

Proboscis free, not supported from below by either the prosternum or the base segments of the second pair of appendages.

Fig. 65.—Koenenia mirabilis, Grassi, one of the Palpigradi.

A, Ventral view of prosoma and anterior region of opisthosoma with the appendages cut off near the base; a and b, prosternites; c, mesosternite; and d, metasternite of the prosoma; f, ventral surface of the prae-genital somite; g, sternite of the genital somite (first opisthosomatic somite).

A, Ventral view of the prosoma and front part of the opisthosoma with the appendages removed near the base; a and b, prosternites; c, mesosternite; and d, metasternite of the prosoma; f, ventral surface of the pre-genital somite; g, sternite of the genital somite (first opisthosomatic somite).

B, Dorsal view. I to VI, prosomatic appendages; 1 opisth, genital somite (first opisthosomatic somite).

B, Dorsal view. I to VI, prosomatic appendages; 1 opisth, genital segment (first opisthosomal segment).

C, Lateral view, I to VI, prosomatic appendages; a, b, c, the three tergal plates of the prosoma; prae-gen, the prae-genital somite; 1 to 10, the ten somites of the opisthosoma.

C, Lateral view, I to VI, front appendages; a, b, c, the three plates on the back of the prosoma; prae-gen, the pre-genital segment; 1 to 10, the ten segments of the opisthosoma.

D, Chelicera.

D, Chelicera.

(Original drawing by Pocock and Pickard-Cambridge, after Hansen and Sörensen.)

Opisthosoma consisting of only ten somites, which have no tergal and sternal elements, the prae-genital somite contracted to form a “waist,” as in the Pedipalpi; the last three narrowed to form a caudal support for the many-jointed flagelliform telson, as in the Urotricha. Respiratory organs atrophied.

Opisthosoma made up of just ten segments, which lack dorsal and ventral components, with the pre-genital segment squeezed to create a "waist," similar to what's found in the Pedipalpi; the final three segments narrowed down to serve as a tail support for the many-segmented, whip-like telson, like in the Urotricha. The respiratory organs have shrunk.

Family—Koeneniidae (Koenenia).

Family—Koeneniidae (Koenenia).

Remarks.—An extremely remarkable minute form originally described by Grassi (34) from Sicily, and since further described by Hansen (35). Recently the genus has been found in Texas, U.S.A. Only one genus of the order is known.

Remarks.—An incredibly notable small form originally described by Grassi (34) from Sicily, and further detailed by Hansen (35). Recently, this genus has also been discovered in Texas, U.S.A. Only one genus of the order is known.

Order 5. Solifugae = Mycetophorae (see figs. 66 to 69).—Dorsal area of prosoma covered with three distinct plates, two smaller representing the terga of the 5th and 6th somites, and a larger representing those of the anterior four somites, although the reduced terga of the 3rd and 4th are traceable behind the larger plate. The latter bears a pair of median eyes and obsolete lateral eyes on each side. Sternal elements of prosoma almost entirely absent, traces of a prosternum and metasternum alone remaining. Rostrum free, not supported by either the prosternum or the basal segments of the appendages. Appendages of 1st pair large, chelate, bisegmented, articulated to the sides of the head-shield; appendages of 2nd pair simple, pediform, with protrusible (? suctorial) organ, and no claws at the tip; their basal segments united in the middle line and furnished with sterno-coxal process. Remaining pairs of appendages with their basal segments immovably fixed to the sternal surface, similar in form, the posterior three pairs furnished with two claws supported on long stalks; the basal segments of the 6th pair bearing five pairs of tactile sensory organs or malleoli. The prae-genital somite is suppressed. Opisthosoma composed of ten somites. Respiratory organs tracheal, opening upon the ventral surface of the 2nd and 3rd, and sometimes also of the 4th somite of the opisthosoma. A supplementary pair of tracheae opening behind the basal segment of the 4th appendage of the prosoma.

Order 5. Solifugae = Mycetophorae (see figs. 66 to 69).—The upper part of the prosoma has three distinct plates: two smaller ones that represent the terga of the 5th and 6th segments, and a larger one that represents the anterior four segments, though the reduced terga of the 3rd and 4th can be seen behind the larger plate. The larger plate has a pair of median eyes and small lateral eyes on each side. The sternal elements of the prosoma are almost entirely missing, with only traces of a prosternum and metasternum left. The rostrum is free and not supported by the prosternum or the base of the appendages. The first pair of appendages is large, chelate, bisegmented, and attached to the sides of the head-shield; the second pair of appendages is simple, foot-like, with a possibly suction organ that can extend, and no claws at the tip; their base segments are joined in the middle and have a sterno-coxal process. The remaining pairs of appendages have their base segments permanently fixed to the sternal surface, are similar in shape, and the last three pairs have two claws on long stalks; the base segments of the 6th pair have five pairs of tactile sensory organs or malleoli. The pre-genital segment is absent. The opisthosoma is made up of ten segments. Respiratory organs are tracheal, opening on the underside of the 2nd and 3rd, and sometimes the 4th segment of the opisthosoma. An additional pair of tracheae opens behind the base segment of the 4th appendage of the prosoma.

(? Intromittent organ of male lodged on the dorsal side of the 1st pair of prosomatic appendages.)

(? Intromittent organ of the male located on the upper side of the 1st pair of prosomatic appendages.)

Families—Hexisopodidae (Hexisopus). Solpugidae (Solpuga, Rhagodes). Galeodidae (Galeodes).

Families—Hexisopodidae (Hexisopus). Solpugidae (Solpuga, Rhagodes). Galeodidae (Galeodes).

308

308

Remarks.—These most strange-looking Arachnids occur in warmer temperate, and tropical regions of Asia, Africa and America. Their anatomy has not been studied, as yet, by means of freshly-killed material, and is imperfectly known, though the presence of the coxal glands was determined by Macleod in 1884. The proportionately enormous chelae (chelicerae) of the first pair of appendages are not provided with poison glands; their bite is not venomous.

Remarks.—These oddly shaped arachnids can be found in the warmer temperate and tropical areas of Asia, Africa, and America. Their anatomy hasn’t been thoroughly studied with fresh specimens, and it’s not completely understood, although Macleod identified the presence of the coxal glands in 1884. The unusually large chelae (chelicerae) of the first pair of appendages do not have poison glands; their bite is not toxic.




Fig. 66.—Galeodes sp., one of the Solifugae. Ventral view to show legs and somites.

I to VI, The six leg-bearing somites of the prosoma.

I to VI, The six leg-bearing segments of the prosoma.

opisth 1, First or genital somite of the opisthosoma.

opisth 1, The first or genital segment of the opisthosoma.

ge, Site of the genital aperture.

ge, Location of the genital opening.

st, Thoracic tracheal aperture.

Thoracic trachea opening.

l2, Anterior tracheal aperture of the opisthosoma in somite 2 of the opisthosoma.

l2, Front opening of the trachea in segment 2 of the abdomen.

l3, Tracheal aperture in somite 3 of the opisthosoma.

l3, Tracheal opening in segment 3 of the abdomen.

a, Anus.

a, Anus.

(From Lankester, “Limulus an Arachnid.”)
Fig. 67.—Galeodes sp., one of the Solifugae. Ventral view with the appendages cut off at the base. Fig. 68.—Galeodes sp., one of the Solifugae. Dorsal view.

I to VI, Prosomatic appendages.

I to VI, Prosomatic limbs.

s, Prosomatic stigma or aperture of the tracheal system.

s, Prosomatic stigma or opening of the tracheal system.

1, First opisthosomatic sternite covering the genital aperture g.

1, First opisthosomatic sternite covering the genital opening g.

2, Second opisthosomatic sternite covering the second pair of tracheal apertures sp1.

2, Second opisthosomatic sternite covering the second pair of tracheal openings sp1.

sp2, The third pair of tracheal apertures.

sp2, The third set of tracheal openings.

10, The tenth opisthosomatic somite.

10, The 10th opisthosomatic segment.

an, The anal aperture.

The anal opening.

I to VI, Bases of the prosomatic appendages.

I to VI, Bases of the body appendages.

o, Eyes.

O, Eyes.

a, Lateral region of the cephalic plate to which the first pair of appendages are articulated.

a, Side area of the head plate where the first pair of limbs is attached.

b, Cephalic plate with median eye.

b, Cephalic plate with a middle eye.

c, Dorsal element of somites bearing third and fourth pairs of appendages.

c, Dorsal part of the somites that carry the third and fourth pairs of limbs.

d, Second plate of the prosoma with fifth pair of appendages.

d, Second plate of the prosoma with the fifth pair of limbs.

e, Third or hindermost plate of the prosoma beneath which the sixth pair of legs is articulated.

e, Third or back plate of the prosoma where the sixth pair of legs connects.

1, 2, 9, 10, First, second, ninth and tenth somites of the opisthosoma.

1, 2, 9, 10, First, second, ninth, and tenth segments of the opisthosoma.

an, Anus.

an, Anus.

(Original by Pickard-Cambridge and Pocock.) (Original.)

Galeodes has been made the means of a comparison between the structure of the Arachnida and Hexapod insects by Haeckel and other writers, and it was at one time suggested that there was a genetic affinity between the two groups—through Galeodes, or extinct forms similar to it. The segmentation of the prosoma and the form of the appendages bear a homoplastic similarity to the head, pro-, meso-, and meta-thorax of a Hexapod with mandibles, maxillary palps and three pairs of walking legs; while the opisthosoma agrees in form and number of somites with the abdomen of a Hexapod, and the tracheal stigmata present certain agreements in the two cases. Reference to literature (36).

Galeodes has been used to compare the structures of Arachnids and Hexapod insects by Haeckel and other authors, and at one point, it was suggested that there might be a genetic connection between the two groups—through Galeodes or similar extinct forms. The segmentation of the prosoma and the shape of the appendages show a homoplastic similarity to the head, pro-, meso-, and meta-thorax of a Hexapod with mandibles, maxillary palps, and three pairs of walking legs; meanwhile, the opisthosoma matches in shape and number of segments with the abdomen of a Hexapod, and the tracheal stigmata exhibit certain similarities in both cases. Reference to literature (36).

Fig. 69.—Galeodes sp., one of the Solifugae.

I to VI, The six prosomatic limbs cut short.

I to VI, The six prosomatic limbs cut short.

o, The eyes.

The eyes.

b, c, Demarcated areae of the cephalic or first prosomatic plate corresponding respectively to appendages I, II, III, and to appendage IV (see fig. 68).

b, c, Defined areas of the head or first segment of the body corresponding to appendages I, II, III, and to appendage IV (see fig. 68).

d, Second plate of the prosoma-carrying appendage V.

d, Second plate of the prosoma-carrying appendage V.

e, Third plate of the prosoma-carrying appendage VI. The prae-genital somite is absent.

e, Third plate of the prosoma-carrying appendage VI. The pre-genital segment is missing.

1, First somite of the opisthosoma.

1, First segment of the abdomen.

2, Second do.

2, Do it second.

S, Prosomatic tracheal aperture between legs IV and V.

S, Prosomatic tracheal opening between legs IV and V.

S′ and S″, Opisthosomatic tracheal apertures.

S′ and S″, openings for the trachea on the back of the abdomen.

10, Tenth opisthosomatic somite.

10th opisthosomatic somite.

an, Anus.

Anus.

(Original.)
Fig. 70.—Garypus litoralis, one of the Pseudoscorpiones. Ventral view. Fig. 71.—Garypus litoralis, one of the Pseudoscorpiones. Dorsal view.

I to VI, Prosomatic appendages.

I to VI, Body parts.

o, Sterno-coxal process of the basal segment of the second appendage.

o, Sterno-coxal process of the base segment of the second appendage.

1, Sternite of the genital or first opisthosomatic somite; the prae-genital somite, though represented by a tergum, has no separate ternal plate.

1, Sternite of the genital or first post-abdominal segment; the pre-genital segment, although represented by a dorsal plate, lacks a separate ventral plate.

2 and 3, Sternites of the second and third somites of the opisthosoma, each showing a tracheal stigma.

2 and 3, Sternites of the second and third segments of the opisthosoma, each displaying a tracheal stigma.

10 and 11, Sternites of the tenth and eleventh somites of the opisthosoma.

10 and 11, Sternites of the tenth and eleventh segments of the opisthosoma.

an, Anus.

Anus.

I to VI, The prosomatic appendages.

I to VI, The prosomatic appendages.

o, Eyes.

O, Eyes.

prae-gen, Prae-genital somite.

prae-gen, Pre-genital somite.

1, Tergite of the genital or first opisthosomatic somite.

1, Tergite of the genital or first abdominal segment.

10, Tergite of the tenthsomite of the opisthosoma.

10, Tergite of the tenth segment of the abdomen.

11, The evanescent eleventh somite of the opisthosoma.

11, The fleeting eleventh segment of the abdomen.

an, Anus.

an, Anus.

(Original by Pocock and Pickard-Cambridge.) (Original.)

Order 6. Pseudoscorpiones = Chelonethi, also called Chernetidia (see figs. 70, 71, 72).—Prosoma covered by a single dorsal shield, at most furnished with one or two diplostichous lateral eyes; sternal elements obliterated or almost obliterated. Appendages of the 1st pair bisegmented completely chelate, furnished with peculiar organs, the serrula and the lamina. Appendages of 2nd pair very large and completely chelate, their basal segments meeting in the middle line, as in the Uropygi, and provided in front with membranous lip-like processes underlying the proboscis. Appendages of the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs similar in form and function, tipped with two claws, their basal segments in contact in the median ventral line. The prae-genital somite wide, not constricted, with large tergal plate, but with its sternal plate small or inconspicuous. Opisthosoma 309 composed, at least in many cases, of eleven somites, the 11th somite very small, often hidden within the both. Respiratory organs in the form of tracheal tubes opening by a pair of stigmata in the 2nd and 3rd somites of the opisthosoma. Intromittent organ of male beneath sternum of the 1st somite of the opisthosoma.

Order 6. Pseudoscorpiones = Chelonethi, also known as Chernetidia (see figs. 70, 71, 72).—The prosoma is covered by a single dorsal shield, usually with one or two pairs of lateral eyes; sternal elements are either totally missing or nearly so. The appendages of the 1st pair are two-segmented, fully clawed, and equipped with unique organs, the serrula and the lamina. The appendages of the 2nd pair are very large, entirely clawed, their basal segments meeting at the midline like in Uropygi, and equipped with membranous lip-like processes in front of the proboscis. The appendages of the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs are similar in shape and function, ending in two claws, with their basal segments touching along the median ventral line. The pre-genital somite is wide, not constricted, with a large tergal plate, but its sternal plate is small or not very noticeable. The opisthosoma 309 is made up, at least in many cases, of eleven segments, with the 11th segment being very small, often hidden within the rest. Respiratory organs take the form of tracheal tubes opening through a pair of stigmata in the 2nd and 3rd segments of the opisthosoma. The male's intromittent organ is located beneath the sternum of the 1st segment of the opisthosoma.

Sub-order a. Panctenodactyli.—Dorsal plate of prosoma (carapace) narrowed in front; the appendages of the 1st pair small, much narrower, taken together, than the posterior border of the carapace. Serrula on movable digit of appendages of 1st pair fixed throughout its length, and broader at its proximal than at its distal end; the immovable digit with an external process.

Sub-order a. Panctenodactyli.—The dorsal plate of the prosoma (carapace) is narrower at the front; the appendages of the first pair are small and much narrower overall than the back edge of the carapace. The serrula on the movable digit of the first pair of appendages is fixed along its entire length and is wider at the base than at the tip; the immovable digit has an external process.

Family—Cheliferidae (Chelifer (figs. 70, 71, 72), Chiridium).

Family—Cheliferidae (Chelifer (figs. 70, 71, 72), Chiridium).

 ”   Garypidae (Garypus).

Garypidae (Garypus).

Fig. 72.—Garypus litoralis, one of the Pseudoscorpiones. Lateral view.

I to VI, of the six prosomatic appendages.

I to VI, of the six body appendages.

o, Eyes.

O, Eyes.

prae-gen, Tergite of the prae-genital somite.

prae-gen, Tergite of the prae-genital segment.

1, Genital or first opisthosomatic somite.

1, Genital or first opiosthomatic segment.

2, 3, 10, The second, third and tenth somites of the opisthosoma.

2, 3, 10, The second, third, and tenth segments of the abdomen.

11, The minute eleventh somite;

11th somite;

an, the anus.

an, the anus.

(Original.)

Sub-order b. Hemictenodactyli.—Dorsal plate of prosoma scarcely narrowed in front; the appendages of the 1st pair large, not much narrower, taken together, than the posterior border of the carapace. The serrula or the movable digit free at its distal end, narrowed at the base; no external lamina on the immovable digit.

Sub-order b. Hemictenodactyli.—The dorsal plate of the prosoma is only slightly narrower at the front; the appendages of the first pair are large, and their combined width is about the same as the back edge of the carapace. The serrula or the movable digit is free at the tip and narrows at the base; there is no external lamina on the immovable digit.

Family—Obisiidae (Obisium, Pseudobisium).

Family—Obisiidae (Obisium, Pseudobisium).

 ”   Chthoniidae (Chthonius, Tridenchthonius).

Chthoniidae (Chthonius, Tridenchthonius).

Remarks.—The book-scorpions—so called because they were, in old times, found not unfrequently in libraries—are found in rotten wood and under stones. The similarity of the form of their appendages to those of the scorpions suggests that they are a degenerate group derived from the latter, but the large size of the prae-genital somite in them would indicate a connexion with forms preceding the scorpions. Reference to literature (37).

Remarks.—Book-scorpions—named because they were often found in libraries in the past—live in decaying wood and under rocks. Their appendages resemble those of scorpions, suggesting they might be a lesser-developed group that evolved from them, but the large size of the prae-genital segment indicates a link to forms that came before scorpions. Reference to literature (37).

Fig. 73.—Cryptostemma Karschii, one of the Podogona. Dorsal view of male.

III to VI, The third, fourth, fifth and sixth appendages of the prosoma.

III to VI, The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth appendages of the prosoma.

a, Movable (hinged) sclerite (so-called hood) overhanging the first pair of appendages.

a, A movable (hinged) sclerite (commonly called a hood) that hangs over the first pair of appendages.

b, Fused terga of the prosoma followed by the opisthosoma of four visible somites.

b, The fused sections of the front body followed by the back body of four visible segments.

an, Orifice within which the caudal segments are withdrawn.

an, Opening where the tail segments are pulled back.

E, Extremity of the fifth appendage of the male modified to subserve copulation.

E, the extreme end of the fifth appendage of the male modified for mating.

(Original drawing by Pocock and Pickard-Cambridge.)

Order 7. Podogona = Ricinulei (see figs. 73 to 76).—Dorsal area of prosoma furnished with two shields, a larger behind representing, probably, the tergal elements of the somites, and a smaller in front, which is freely articulated to the former and folds over the appendages of the 1st pair. Ventral area without distinct sternal plates. Appendages of 1st pair, bisegmented, completely chelate. Appendages of 2nd pair, with their basal segments uniting in the middle line below the mouth, weakly chelate at apex. Appendages of 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs similar in form; their basal segments in contact in the middle line and immovably welded, except those of the 3rd pair, which have been pushed aside so that the bases of the 2nd and 4th pairs are in contact with each other. A movable membranous joint between the prosoma and the opisthosoma, the generative aperture opening upon the ventral side of the membrane. Prae-genital somite suppressed; the opisthosma consisting of nine segments, whereof the first and second are almost suppressed and concealed within the joint between the prosoma and the opisthosoma; the following four large and manifest, and the remaining three minute and forming a slender generally-retracted tail like that of Thelyphonus. Respiratory organs tracheal, opening by a pair of spiracles in the prosoma above the base of the fifth appendage on each side. Intromittent organ of male placed at the distal end of the appendage of the 5th pair.

Order 7. Podogona = Ricinulei (see figs. 73 to 76).—The dorsal area of the prosoma has two shields: a larger one at the back, likely representing the tergal elements of the segments, and a smaller one in front, which is freely connected to the larger shield and overlaps the appendages of the first pair. The ventral area lacks distinct sternal plates. The appendages of the first pair are two-segmented and fully chelate. The appendages of the second pair have their base segments joined at the center below the mouth and are weakly chelate at the tip. The appendages of the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth pairs are similar in shape; their base segments are touching in the middle and firmly fused, except for those of the third pair, which have been moved aside so that the bases of the second and fourth pairs touch each other. There is a movable, membranous joint between the prosoma and the opisthosoma, and the reproductive opening is located on the ventral side of the membrane. The pre-genital segment is reduced; the opisthosoma is made up of nine segments, with the first and second segments being nearly obliterated and hidden within the joint between the prosoma and the opisthosoma; the next four are large and obvious, while the last three are tiny and form a slender, generally retracted tail like that of Thelyphonus. The respiratory organs are tracheal, opening through a pair of spiracles in the prosoma above the base of the fifth appendage on each side. The male's intromittent organ is located at the distal end of the fifth pair of appendages.

Family—Cryptostemmidae (Cryptostemma, Poliochera), Carboniferous.

Family—Cryptostemmidae (Cryptostemma, Poliochera), Carboniferous period.



Fig. 74.—Cryptostemma Karschii, anterior aspect of the prosoma with the “hood” removed. I to IV, first to fourth appendages of the prosoma; a, basal segment of the second pair of appendages meeting its fellow in the middle line (see fig. 75).
(Original drawing by Pocock and Pickard-Cambridge.)

Remarks on the Podogona.—The name given to this small but remarkable group has reference to the position of the male intromittent organ (fig. 73, E). They are small degenerate animals with a relatively firm integument. Not more than four species and twice that number of specimens are known. They have been found in West Africa and South America. A fact of special interest in regard to them is that the genus Poliochera, from the Coal Measures, appears to be a member of the same group. The name Cryptostemma, given to the first-known genus of the order, described by Guérin-Méneville, refers to the supposed concealment of the eyes by the movable cephalic sclerite. Reference to literature (38).

Remarks on the Podogona.—The name for this small but notable group relates to the position of the male mating organ (fig. 73, E). They are small, simplified animals with a relatively tough outer layer. Only about four species and double that number of specimens have been identified. They've been discovered in West Africa and South America. A particularly interesting fact about them is that the genus Poliochera, from the Coal Measures, seems to belong to the same group. The name Cryptostemma, assigned to the first-known genus of the order, described by Guérin-Méneville, alludes to the supposed hiding of the eyes by the movable head shield. Reference to literature (38).



Fig. 75.—Cryptostemma Karschii, one of the Podogona. Ventral view.

I to VI, The six pairs of appendages of the prosoma, the last three cut short.

I to VI, The six pairs of appendages of the prosoma, the last three cut short.

1, 2, 3, 4, The four somites of the opisthosoma.

1, 2, 3, 4, The four segments of the abdomen.

a. Visible hood overhanging the first pair of appendages.

a. A noticeable hood hanging over the first pair of limbs.

b, Position of the genital orifice.

b, Location of the genital opening.

c, Part of 3rd appendage.

c, Part of the 3rd appendage.

d, Fourth segment of 2nd appendage. Observe that the basal segment of appendage III does not meet its fellow in the middle line.

d, Fourth segment of the 2nd appendage. Notice that the base segment of appendage III does not align with its counterpart in the middle.

(Original drawing by Pocock and Pickard-Cambridge.)
Fig. 76.—Cryptostemma Karschii. Extremity of the fifth pair of appendages of the female for comparison with that of the male E in fig. 73.

Order 8. Opilione (see fig. 77).—Dorsal area of prosoma covered by a single shield usually bearing a pair of eyes. Sternal elements much reduced. Appendages of 1st pair large, three segmented and completely chelate; of 2nd pair either simple and pediform, or prehensile and subchelate; of remaining four pairs, similar in form, ambulatory in function; the basal segment of the 2nd, 3rd and sometimes of the 4th pairs of appendages furnished with sterno-coxal (maxillary) lobe. Opisthosoma confluent throughout its breadth with the prosoma, with the dorsal plate of which its anterior tergal plates are more or less fused; at most ten opisthosomatic somites traceable; the generative aperture thrust far forwards between the basal segments of the 6th appendages. Prae-genital somite suppressed. Respiratory organs tracheal, opening by a pair of stigmata situated immediately behind the basal segments of the 6th pair of appendages on what is probably the sternum of the 2nd opisthosomatic somite and also in some cases upon the 5th segment of the legs.

Order 8. Opilione (see fig. 77).—The top part of the prosoma is covered by a single shield that usually has a pair of eyes. The sternal elements are significantly reduced. The first pair of appendages is large, made up of three segments, and fully chelate; the second pair can either be simple and look like legs, or be prehensile and subchelate; the remaining four pairs are similar in shape and used for walking; the base segment of the second, third, and sometimes fourth pairs of appendages has a sterno-coxal (maxillary) lobe. The opisthosoma merges along its entire width with the prosoma, and its front tergal plates are more or less fused with the dorsal plate of the prosoma; usually, there are up to ten traceable opisthosomatic somites; the generative opening is pushed far forward between the base segments of the sixth appendages. The prae-genital somite is absent. The respiratory organs are tracheal, opening via a pair of stigmas located just behind the base segments of the sixth pair of appendages on what is likely the sternum of the second opisthosomatic somite, and in some cases on the fifth segment of the legs.

Intromittent organ of male lying within the genital orifice.

Intromittent organ of the male located within the genital opening.

Sub-order a. Laniatores.—Orifice of foetid glands opening above the coxa of the 4th appendage, not raised upon a tubercle. Orifice of coxal gland situated just behind that of the foetid gland. Sternal plate of prosoma long and narrow, with a distinct prosternal element underlying the mouth. Coxae of 4th, 5th and 6th appendages immovable. Appendages of 2nd pair, strong, usually prehensile and spiny. Genital orifice covered by an operculum.

Sub-order a. Laniatores.—The opening of the foul-smelling glands is above the coxa of the 4th appendage and is not raised on a tubercle. The opening of the coxal gland is located just behind that of the foul-smelling gland. The sternal plate of the prosoma is long and narrow, with a distinct prosternal element beneath the mouth. The coxae of the 4th, 5th, and 6th appendages are immovable. The appendages of the 2nd pair are strong, usually prehensile, and spiny. The genital opening is covered by an operculum.

Families—Gonoleptidae (Gonoleptes, Goniasoma).

Families—Gonoleptidae (Gonoleptes, Goniasoma).

      Biantidae (Biantes).

Biantidae (Biantes).

      Oncopodidae (Oncopus, Pelitnus).

Oncopodidae (Oncopus, Pelitnus).

      Trioenonychidae (Trioenonyx, Acumontia).

Trioenonychidae (Trioenonyx, Acumontia).

Sub-order b. Palpatores.—Orifice of foetid glands opening above the coxa of the 3rd appendage, not raised upon a tubercle. Orifice of coxal gland situated between the coxae of the 5th and 6th appendages. Sternal plate of prosoma usually short and wide, rarely longer than broad; with a larger or smaller prosternal element underlying the mouth. Coxae of 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th appendages movable 310 or immovable. Appendages of 2nd pair weak, pediform not prehensile. Genital orifice covered by an operculum.

Sub-order b. Palpatores.—The openings of the smelly glands are located above the coxa of the 3rd appendage, not raised on a tubercle. The coxal gland opening is situated between the coxae of the 5th and 6th appendages. The sternal plate of the prosoma is usually short and wide, rarely longer than it is broad; it features a larger or smaller prosternal element underneath the mouth. The coxae of the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th appendages can be movable or immovable. The appendages of the 2nd pair are weak, shaped like legs, and not capable of grasping. The genital opening is covered by an operculum.

Families—Phalangiidae (Phalangium, Gagrella).

Families—Phalangiidae (Phalangium, Gagrella).

      Ischyropsalidae (Ischyropsalis, Taracus).

Ischyropsalidae (Ischyropsalis, Taracus).

      Nemastomidae (Nemastoma).

Nemastomidae (Nemastoma).

      Trogulidae (Trogulus, Anelasmocephalus).

Trogulidae (Trogulus, Anelasmocephalus).

Sub-order c. Cyphophthalmi (Anepignathi).—Orifice of foetid glands opening on a tubercle situated near the lateral border of the carapace above the base of the 5th appendage. Orifice of coxal gland probably situated at base of coxa of 5th appendage; sternal plate of prosema minute or absent; no prosternal element underlying the mouth. Coxae of 5th and 6th, and usually also of 4th appendages immovable. Appendages of 2nd pair weak, pediform, not prehensile. Genital orifice not covered by an operculum.

Sub-order c. Cyphophthalmi (Anepignathi).—The opening of the foul-smelling glands is on a bump located near the side edge of the shell above the base of the 5th limb. The opening of the coxal gland is likely at the base of the coxa of the 5th limb; the sternal plate of the prosema is tiny or missing; there is no prosternal part under the mouth. The coxae of the 5th and 6th, and usually also of the 4th limbs, are fixed. The appendages of the 2nd pair are weak, resemble legs, and are not able to grasp. The genital opening is not covered by a lid.

Families—Sironidae (Siro, Pettalus).

Families—Sironidae (Siro, Pettalus).

      Stylocellidae (Stylocellus).

Stylocellidae (Stylocellus).

Remarks on the Opiliones.—These include the harvest-men, sometimes called also daddy-long-legs, with round undivided bodies and very long, easily-detached legs. The intromittent organs of the male are remarkable for their complexity and elaboration. The confluence of the regions of the body and the dislocation of apertures from their typical position are results of degeneration. The Opiliones seem to lead on from the Spiders to the Mites. Reference to literature (39).

Remarks on the Opiliones.—These include harvestmen, sometimes called daddy-long-legs, which have round, undivided bodies and very long legs that can easily detach. The male’s reproductive organs are notable for their complexity and detail. The merging of body regions and the shifting of openings from their usual position are outcomes of degeneration. The Opiliones appear to connect Spiders to Mites. Reference to literature (39).



Fig. 77.—Stylocellus sumatranus, one of the Opiliones; after Thorell. Enlarged.

A, Dorsal view; I to VI, the six prosomatic appendages.

A, Dorsal view; I to VI, the six front appendages.

B, Ventral view of the prosoma and of the first somite of the opisthosoma, with the appendages I to VI cut off at the base; a, tracheal stigma; mx, maxillary processes of the coxae of the 3rd pair of appendages; g, genital aperture.

B, Ventral view of the prosoma and the first somite of the opisthosoma, with appendages I to VI removed at the base; a, tracheal stigma; mx, maxillary processes of the coxae of the 3rd pair of appendages; g, genital aperture.

C, Ventral surface of the prosoma and opisthosoma; a, tracheal stigma; b, last somite.

C, Bottom side of the prosoma and opisthosoma; a, tracheal opening; b, last segment.

D, Lateral view of the 1st and 2nd pair of appendages.

D, Side view of the 1st and 2nd pair of appendages.

E, Lateral view of the whole body and two 1st appendages, showing the fusion of the dorsal elements of the prosoma into a single plate, and of those of the opisthosoma into an imperfectly segmented plate continuous with that of the prosoma.

E, Lateral view of the entire body and two first appendages, showing the fusion of the dorsal elements of the prosoma into a single plate, and of those of the opisthosoma into a poorly segmented plate that connects with that of the prosoma.

Apparently related to the Opiliones are two extinct groups, the Anthracomarti and Phalangiotarbi, which are not known to have survived the Carboniferous period. In the Anthracomarti the opisthosoma was movably articulated to the prosoma, and consisted of from eight to ten segments furnished with movable lateral plates, the anal segment being overlapped dorsally by a laminate expansion of the preceding segment. The carapace of the prosoma was unsegmented and often bore a pair of eyes. The appendages of the 2nd pair were slender and pediform; those of the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs were similar in form and ambulatory in function with their basal segments arranged round a sternal area as in the order Araneae. The best-known genera were Anthracomartus and Eophognus.

Apparently related to the Opiliones are two extinct groups, the Anthracomarti and Phalangiotarbi, which are not known to have survived the Carboniferous period. In the Anthracomarti, the opisthosoma was movable and connected to the prosoma, consisting of eight to ten segments with movable side plates, with the anal segment being covered on top by a flat extension of the previous segment. The carapace of the prosoma was not segmented and often had a pair of eyes. The appendages of the second pair were thin and leg-like; those of the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth pairs were similar in shape and used for walking, with their base segments arranged around a central area like in the order Araneae. The best-known genera were Anthracomartus and Eophognus.

In the Phalangiotarbi the appendages resembled those of the Anthracomarti, except that the basal segments of the last four pairs were usually approximated in the middle line leaving a long and narrow sternal area between; and the carapace of the prosoma was unsegmented. The prosoma and opisthosoma were broadly confluent and probably immovably welded together. The opisthosoma consisted of eight or nine segments, whereof the anterior five or six were very short in the dorsal region, and the posterior three exceptionally large with the anal orifice terminal.

In the Phalangiotarbi, the limbs looked similar to those of the Anthracomarti, but the base segments of the last four pairs were usually brought together along the middle, creating a long and narrow sternal area in between. Also, the carapace of the prosoma was unsegmented. The prosoma and opisthosoma were widely joined, likely fused together without any movement. The opisthosoma had eight or nine segments, with the first five or six being very short on the dorsal side, while the last three were unusually large with the anal opening at the end.

Several genera have been established, the best-characterized being Geraphognus and Architarbus.

Several genera have been identified, with the most well-known being Geraphognus and Architarbus.

Order 9. Rhynchostomi = Acari (see fig. 78).—Degenerate Arachnids resembling the Opiliones in many structural points, but chiefly distinguishable from them by the following features:—The basal segments of the appendages of the 2nd pair are united in the middle line behind the mouth, those of the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs are widely separated and not provided with sterno-coxal (maxillary) lobes, and take no share in mastication; the respiratory stigmata, when present, belong to the prosoma, and the primitive segmentation of the opisthosoma has entirely or almost entirely disappeared.

Order 9. Rhynchostomi = Acari (see fig. 78).—Degenerate arachnids that look similar to Opiliones in several structural aspects, but can mainly be identified by the following characteristics:—The base segments of the appendages of the 2nd pair are fused at the midline behind the mouth, while those of the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs are widely spaced and lack sterno-coxal (maxillary) lobes, and do not participate in chewing; the respiratory openings, when present, are located on the prosoma, and the original segmentation of the opisthosoma has completely or nearly completely vanished.

Sub-order a. Notostigmata.—Opisthosoma consisting of ten segments defined by integumental grooves, each of the anterior four of these furnished with a single pair of dorsally-placed spiracles or tracheal stigmata.

Sub-order a. Notostigmata.—The opisthosoma has ten segments marked by skin grooves, with each of the first four having a pair of spiracles or tracheal openings located on the top side.

Family—Opilioacaridae (Opilioacarus).

Family—Opilioacaridae (Opilioacarus).

Sub-order b. Cryptostigmata.—Integument hard, strengthened by a continuously chitinized dorsal and ventral sclerite. Tracheae typically opening by stigmata situated in the articular sockets (acetabula) of the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs of appendages.

Sub-order b. Cryptostigmata.—The skin is tough, reinforced by a continuous layer of chitin on the top and bottom. The tracheae usually open through stigmata located in the joint sockets (acetabula) of the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs of limbs.

Family—Oribatidae (Oribata, Nothrus, Hoplophora).

Family—Oribatidae (Oribata, Nothrus, Hoplophora).

Sub-order c. Metastigmata.—Integument mostly like that of the Cryptostigmata. Tracheae opening by a pair of stigmata situated above and behind the base of the 4th or 5th or 6th pair of appendages.

Sub-order c. Metastigmata.—The skin is mostly similar to that of the Cryptostigmata. Tracheae open through a pair of openings located above and behind the base of the 4th, 5th, or 6th pair of appendages.

Families—Gamasidae (Gamasus, Pteroptus).

Families—Gamasidae (Gamasus, Pteroptus).

      Argasidae (Argas, Ornithodoros).

Argasidae (Argas, Ornithodoros).

      Ixodidae (Ixodes, Rhipicephalus).

Ixodidae (*Ixodes, Rhipicephalus*).

Sub-order d. Prostigmata.—Integument soft, strengthened by special sclerites, those on the ventral surface of the prosoma apparently representing the basal segments of the legs embedded in the skin. Tracheae, except in the aquatic species in which they are atrophied, opening by a pair of stigmata situated close to or above the base of the appendages of the 1st pair (mandibles).

Sub-order d. Prostigmata.—The outer covering is soft, reinforced by specific sclerites, with those on the underside of the prosoma seeming to represent the base segments of the legs sunk into the skin. Tracheae, except in the aquatic species where they are reduced, open through a pair of stigmata located near or above the base of the first pair of appendages (mandibles).

Families—Trombidiidae (Trombidium, Tetranychus).

Families—Trombidiidae (Trombidium, Tetranychus).

      Hydrachnidae (Hydrachna, Atax).

Hydrachnidae (Hydrachna, Atax).

      Halacaridae (Halacarus, Leptognathus).

Halacaridae (Halacarus, Leptognathus).

      Bdellidae (Bdella, Eupodes).

Bdellidae (Bdella, Eupodes).

Fig. 78.—Holothyrus nitidissimus, one of the Acari; after Thorell.

A, Lateral view with appendages III to VI removed; 1, plate covering the whole dorsal area, representing the fused tergal sclerites of the prosoma and opisthosoma; 2, similarly-formed ventral plate; 3, tracheal stigma.

A, Side view with appendages III to VI removed; 1, plate covering the entire upper area, representing the fused tergal sclerites of the prosoma and opisthosoma; 2, similarly shaped lower plate; 3, tracheal opening.

B, Dorsal view of the same animal; II to VI, 2nd to 6th pairs of appendages. The 1st pair of appendages both in this and in C are retracted.

B, dorsal view of the same animal; II to VI, 2nd to 6th pairs of appendages. The 1st pair of appendages in both this and C are pulled back.

C, Ventral view of the same; II to VI as in B; a, genital orifice; b, anus; c, united basal segments of the second pair of appendages; d, basal segment of the 6th prosomatic appendage of the right side. The rest of the appendage, as also of app. Ill, IV and V, has been cut away.

C, Ventral view of the same; II to VI as in B; a, genital opening; b, anus; c, fused base segments of the second pair of appendages; d, base segment of the 6th prosomatic appendage on the right side. The remainder of the appendage, as well as appendages III, IV, and V, has been removed.

Sub-order e. Astigmata.—Degenerate, mostly parasitic forms approaching the Prostigmata in the development of integumental sclerites and the softness of the skin, but with the respiratory system absent.

Sub-order e. Astigmata.—Degenerate, mostly parasitic forms that are similar to the Prostigmata in the development of body sclerites and the softness of the skin, but lacking a respiratory system.

Families—Tyroglyphidae (Tyroglyphus, Rhizoglyphus).

Families—Tyroglyphidae (Tyroglyphus, Rhizoglyphus).

      Sarcoptidae (Sarcoptes, Analges).

Sarcoptidae (Sarcoptes, Analges).

Sub-order f. Vermiformia.—Degenerate atracheate parasitic forms with the body produced posteriorly into an annulated caudal prolongation, and the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th pairs of appendages short and only three-jointed.

Sub-order f. Vermiformia.—Reduced, non-segmented parasitic types with a body that extends backward into a segmented tail, and the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th pairs of limbs are short and consist of only three segments.

Family—Demodicidae (Demodex).

Family—Demodicidae (Demodex).

Sub-order g. Tetrapoda.—Degenerate atracheate gall-mites in which the body is produced posteriorly and annulated, as in Demodex, but in which the appendages of the 3rd and 4th pairs are long and normally segmented and those of the 5th and 6th pairs entirely absent.

Sub-order g. Tetrapoda.—Degenerate non-jointed gall mites where the body extends backward and is segmented, similar to Demodex, but the appendages of the 3rd and 4th pairs are long and typically segmented, while the 5th and 6th pairs are completely missing.

Family—Eriophyidae (Eriophyes, Phyllocoptes).

Family—Eriophyidae (Eriophyes, Phyllocoptes).

Remarks on the Rhynchostomi.—The Acari include a number of forms which are of importance and special interest on account of their parasitic habits. The ticks (Ixodes) are not only injurious as blood-suckers, but are now credited with carrying the germs of Texas cattle-fever, just as mosquitoes carry those of malaria. The itch-insect (Sarcoptes scabiei) is a well-known human parasite, so minute that it was not discovered until the end of the 18th century, and “the itch” was treated medicinally as a rash. The female burrows in the epidermis much as the female trap-door spider burrows in turf in order to make a nest in which to rear her young. The male does not burrow, but wanders freely on the surface of the skin. Demodex folliculorum is also a common parasite of the sebaceous 311 glands of the skin of the face in man, and is frequent in the skin of the dog. Many Acari are parasitic on marine and freshwater molluscs, and others are found on the feathers of birds and the hair of mammals. Others have a special faculty of consuming dry, powdery vegetable and animal refuse, and are liable to multiply in manufactured products of this nature, such as mouldy cheese. A species of Acarus is recorded as infesting a store of powdered strychnine and feeding on that drug, so poisonous to larger organisms. Reference to literature (40).

Remarks on the Rhynchostomi.—The Acari include several forms that are significant and particularly interesting due to their parasitic lifestyles. Ticks (Ixodes) not only harm hosts by feeding on their blood, but they are also now suspected of carrying the germs responsible for Texas cattle fever, similar to how mosquitoes transmit malaria. The itch mite (Sarcoptes scabiei) is a well-known human parasite so tiny that it wasn't discovered until the late 18th century, and "the itch" was treated medicinally as if it were just a rash. The female burrows into the skin much like the female trap-door spider digs into the ground to create a nest for her young. The male does not burrow; instead, he roams freely on the skin's surface. Demodex folliculorum is also a common parasite found in the sebaceous glands of human facial skin and is often seen on dogs. Many Acari are parasitic on marine and freshwater mollusks, while others inhabit the feathers of birds and the fur of mammals. Some are particularly skilled at consuming dry, powdery plant and animal waste and can multiply in manufactured products like moldy cheese. A species of Acarus is noted for infesting a supply of powdered strychnine, feeding on a substance that is toxic to larger organisms. Reference to literature (40).

Authorities cited by numbers in the text.—1. Strauss-Dürckheim (as reported by MM. Riester and Sanson in an appendix to the sixth volume of the French translation of Meckel’s Anatomy, 1829); 2. Lankester, “Limulus an Arachnid,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxi. N.S., 1881; 3. Idem, “On the Skeletotrophic Tissues of Limulus, Scorpio and Mygale,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxiv. N.S., 1884; 4. Idem. Trans. Zool. Soc. vol. xi., 1883; 5. Lankester and A.G. Bourne, “Eyes of Limulus and Scorpio,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxiii. N.S., Jan. 1883; 6. Milne-Edwards, A., “Recherches sur l’anatomie des Limules,” Ann. Sci. Nat. 5th Series, Zoologie, vol. xvii., 1873; 7. Owen, Richard, “Anatomy of the King-Crab,” Trans. Linn. Soc. Lond., vol. xxviii., 1872; 8. Kishinouye, “Development of Limulus longispina,” Journal of the Science College of Japan, vol. v., 1892; 9. Brauer, “Development of Scorpion,” Zeitschrift für wiss. Zoologie, vol. lix., 1895; 10. Hansen, H.J., “Organs and Characters in Different Orders of Arachnida,” Entomol. Meddel. vol. iv. pp. 137-149; 11. Watase, “On the Morphology of the Compound Eyes of Arthropods,” Studies from the Biolog. Lab. Johns Hopkins University, vol. iv. pp 287-334; 12. Newport, George, “Nervous and Circulatory Systems in Myriapoda and Macrourous Arachnids,” Phil. Trans. Roy. Soc., 1843; 13. Lankester, “Coxal Glands of Limulus, Scorpio and Mygale,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxiv. N.S., 1884; 13A. W. Patten and A.P. Hazen, “Development of the Coxal Glands of Limulus,” Journ. of Morphology, vol. xvi., 1900; 13B. Bernard, “Coxal Glands of Scorpio,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. vol. xii., 1893, p. 55; 14. Benham, “Testis of Limulus,” Trans. Linn. Soc., 1882; 15. Lankester, “Mobility of the Spermatozoa of Limulus,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xviii. N.S., 1878; 16. Korschelt and Heider, Entwickelungsgeschichte (Jena, 1892), ibique citata; 17. Laurie, M., “The Embryology of a Scorpion,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxxi. N.S., 1890, and “On Development of Scorpio fulvipes,” ibid. vol. xxxii., 1891; 18. Lankester (Homoplasy and Homogeny), “On the Use of the term Homology in Modern Zoology,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 1870; 19. Idem, “Degeneration, a Chapter in Darwinism,” 1878, reprinted in the Advancement of Science (Macmillan, 1890); 20. Idem, “Limulus an Arachnid,” Q. J. Micr. Sci. vol. xxi. N.S.; 21. Claus, “Degeneration of the Acari and Classification of Arthropoda,” Anzeiger d. k. k. Akad. Wissen. Wien, 1885; see also Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (5) vol. xvii., 1886, p. 364, and vol. xix. p. 225; 22. Lindstrom, G., “Researches on the Visual Organs of the Trilobites,” K. Svenska Vet. Akad. Handl. xxxiv. No. 8, pp. 1-86, Pls. i.-vi., 1901; 22*. Zittel, American edition of his Palaeontology (the Macmillan Co., New York), where ample references to the literature of Trilobitae and Eurypteridae will be found; also references to literature of fossil Scorpions and Spiders; 23. Hoek, “Report on the Pycnogonida,” Challenger Expedition Reports, 1881; Meinert, “Pycnogonida of the Danish Ingolf Expedition,” vol. iii., 1899; Morgan, “Embryology and Phylogeny of the Pycnogonids,” Biol. Lab. Baltimore, vol. v., 1891; 24. Bourne, A.G., “The Reputed Suicide of the Scorpion,” Proc. Roy. Soc. vol. xlii. pp. 17-22; 25. Lankester, “Notes on some Habits of Scorpions,” Journ. Linn. Soc. Zool. vol. xvi. p. 455, 1882; 26. Huxley, “Pharynx of Scorpion,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. viii. (old series), 1860, p. 250; 27. Pocock, “How and Why Scorpions hiss,” Natural Science, vol. ix., 1896; cf. idem, “Stridulating Organs of Spiders,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (6), xvi. pp. 230-233; 28. Kraepelin, Das Thierreich (Scorpiones et Pedipalpi) (Berlin, 1899); Peters, “Eine neue Eintheilung der Skorpione,” Man. Akad. Wiss. Berlin, 1861; Pocock, “Classification of Scorpions,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (6) xii., 1893; Thorell and Lindstrom, “On a Silurian Scorpion,” Kongl. Svens. Vet. Akad. Handl. xxi. No. 9, 1885; 29. Cambridge, O.P., “A New Family (Tartarides) and Genus of Thelyphonidea,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (4) x., 1872, p. 413; Cook, “Hubbardia, a New Genus of Pedipalpi,” Proc. Entom. Soc. Washington, vol. iv., 1899; Thorell, “Tartarides, &c.” Ann. Mus. Genova, vol. xxvii., 1889; 30. M Cook, American Spiders and their Spinning Work (3 vols.; Philadelphia, 1889-1893); 31. Peckham, “On Sexual Selection in Spiders,” Occasional Papers Nat. Hist. Soc. Wisconsin, vol. i. pp. 1-113, 1889; 32. Moggridge, Harvesting Ants and Trap-Door Spiders (1873); 33. Bertkau, Ph., Arch. f. Naturgesch. vol. xlviii. pp. 316-362; Idem, same journal, 1875, p. 235, and 1878, p. 351; Cambridge, O.P., “Araneidea” in Biologia Centr. Americana, vols. i. and ii. (London, 1899); Keyserling, Spinnen Amerikas (Nuremberg, 1880-1892); Pocock, “Liphistius and the Classification of Spiders,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (6) x., 1892; Simon, Hist. nat. des Araignées, vols. i. and ii., 1892, 1897; Wagner, “L’Industrie des Araneína,” Mem. Acad. St-Pétersbourg; Idem, “La Mue des Araignées,” Ann. Sci. Nat. vol. vi.; 34. Grassi, G.B. “Intorno ad un nuovo Aracnide artrogastro (Koenenia mirabilis) &c.” Boll. Soc. Ent. Ital. vol. xviii., 1886; 35. H.J. Hansen and Sörensen, “The Order Palpigradi, Thorell (Koenenia), and its Relationships with other Arachnida,” Ent. Tidskr. vol. xviii. pp. 233-240, 1898; Kraepelin, Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1901); 36. Bernard. “Compar. Morphol. of the Galeodidae,” Trans. Linn. Soc. Zool. vol. vi., 1896, ibique citata; Dufour, “Galeodes,” Mém. prés. Acad. Sci. Paris, vol. xvii., 1862; Kraepelin, Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1901); Pocock, “Taxonomy of Solifugae,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. vol. xx.; 37. Balzan, “Voyage au Vénézuela (Pseudoscorpiones),” Ann. Soc. Entom. France, 1891, pp. 497-522; 38. Guérin-Méneville, Rev. Zool., 1838, p. II; Karsch, “Ueber Cryptostemma Guer.” Berliner entom. Zeitschrift, xxxviii. pp. 25-32, 1892; Thorell, “On an apparently new Arachnid belonging to the family Cryptostemmidae,” Westv. Bihang Svenska Vet. Akad. Handligar, vol. xvii. No. 9, 1892; 39. Hansen and Sorensen, On Two Orders of Arachnida (Cambridge, 1904); Sörensen, “Opiliones laniatores,” Nat. Tidskr. (3) vol. xiv., 1884; Thorell, “Opilioni,” Ann. Mus. Genova, vol. viii., 1876; 40. Berlese, “Acari, &c., in Italia reperta” (Padova, 1892); Canestrini, Acarofauna Italiana (Padova, 1885); Canestrini and Kramer, “Demodicidae and Sarcoptidae” in Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1899); Michael, “British Oribatidae,” Ray Soc.; Idem, “Oribatidae” in Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1898); Idem, “Progress and Present State of Knowledge of Acari,” Journ. Roy. Micr. Soc., 1894; Nalepa, “Phytoptidae,” Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1898); Trouessart, “Classification des Acariens,” Rev. Sci. Nat. de l’ouest. p. 289, 1892; Wagner, Embryonal Entwick, von Ixodes (St Petersburg, 1803); 41. Bertkau, Ph., “Coxaldrusen der Arachniden,” Sitzb. Niederl. Gesellsch., 1885; 42. Patten, W., “Brain and Sense Organs of Limulus,” Quart. Journ. Mic. Sci. vol. xxxv., 1894; see also his “Origin of Vertebrates from Arachnids,” ibid. vol. xxxi.

Authorities cited by numbers in the text.—1. Strauss-Dürckheim (as reported by MM. Riester and Sanson in an appendix to the sixth volume of the French translation of Meckel’s Anatomy, 1829); 2. Lankester, “Limulus an Arachnid,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxi. N.S., 1881; 3. Idem, “On the Skeletotrophic Tissues of Limulus, Scorpio and Mygale,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxiv. N.S., 1884; 4. Idem. Trans. Zool. Soc. vol. xi., 1883; 5. Lankester and A.G. Bourne, “Eyes of Limulus and Scorpio,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxiii. N.S., Jan. 1883; 6. Milne-Edwards, A., “Recherches sur l’anatomie des Limules,” Ann. Sci. Nat. 5th Series, Zoologie, vol. xvii., 1873; 7. Owen, Richard, “Anatomy of the King-Crab,” Trans. Linn. Soc. Lond., vol. xxviii., 1872; 8. Kishinouye, “Development of Limulus longispina,” Journal of the Science College of Japan, vol. v., 1892; 9. Brauer, “Development of Scorpion,” Zeitschrift für wiss. Zoologie, vol. lix., 1895; 10. Hansen, H.J., “Organs and Characters in Different Orders of Arachnida,” Entomol. Meddel. vol. iv. pp. 137-149; 11. Watase, “On the Morphology of the Compound Eyes of Arthropods,” Studies from the Biolog. Lab. Johns Hopkins University, vol. iv. pp 287-334; 12. Newport, George, “Nervous and Circulatory Systems in Myriapoda and Macrourous Arachnids,” Phil. Trans. Roy. Soc., 1843; 13. Lankester, “Coxal Glands of Limulus, Scorpio and Mygale,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxiv. N.S., 1884; 13A. W. Patten and A.P. Hazen, “Development of the Coxal Glands of Limulus,” Journ. of Morphology, vol. xvi., 1900; 13B. Bernard, “Coxal Glands of Scorpio,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. vol. xii., 1893, p. 55; 14. Benham, “Testis of Limulus,” Trans. Linn. Soc., 1882; 15. Lankester, “Mobility of the Spermatozoa of Limulus,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xviii. N.S., 1878; 16. Korschelt and Heider, Entwickelungsgeschichte (Jena, 1892), ibique citata; 17. Laurie, M., “The Embryology of a Scorpion,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xxxi. N.S., 1890, and “On Development of Scorpio fulvipes,” ibid. vol. xxxii., 1891; 18. Lankester (Homoplasy and Homogeny), “On the Use of the term Homology in Modern Zoology,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 1870; 19. Idem, “Degeneration, a Chapter in Darwinism,” 1878, reprinted in the Advancement of Science (Macmillan, 1890); 20. Idem, “Limulus an Arachnid,” Q. J. Micr. Sci. vol. xxi. N.S.; 21. Claus, “Degeneration of the Acari and Classification of Arthropoda,” Anzeiger d. k. k. Akad. Wissen. Wien, 1885; see also Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (5) vol. xvii., 1886, p. 364, and vol. xix. p. 225; 22. Lindstrom, G., “Researches on the Visual Organs of the Trilobites,” K. Svenska Vet. Akad. Handl. xxxiv. No. 8, pp. 1-86, Pls. i.-vi., 1901; 22*. Zittel, American edition of his Palaeontology (the Macmillan Co., New York), where ample references to the literature of Trilobitae and Eurypteridae will be found; also references to literature of fossil Scorpions and Spiders; 23. Hoek, “Report on the Pycnogonida,” Challenger Expedition Reports, 1881; Meinert, “Pycnogonida of the Danish Ingolf Expedition,” vol. iii., 1899; Morgan, “Embryology and Phylogeny of the Pycnogonids,” Biol. Lab. Baltimore, vol. v., 1891; 24. Bourne, A.G., “The Reputed Suicide of the Scorpion,” Proc. Roy. Soc. vol. xlii. pp. 17-22; 25. Lankester, “Notes on some Habits of Scorpions,” Journ. Linn. Soc. Zool. vol. xvi. p. 455, 1882; 26. Huxley, “Pharynx of Scorpion,” Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. viii. (old series), 1860, p. 250; 27. Pocock, “How and Why Scorpions hiss,” Natural Science, vol. ix., 1896; cf. idem, “Stridulating Organs of Spiders,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (6), xvi. pp. 230-233; 28. Kraepelin, Das Thierreich (Scorpiones et Pedipalpi) (Berlin, 1899); Peters, “Eine neue Eintheilung der Skorpione,” Man. Akad. Wiss. Berlin, 1861; Pocock, “Classification of Scorpions,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (6) xii., 1893; Thorell and Lindstrom, “On a Silurian Scorpion,” Kongl. Svens. Vet. Akad. Handl. xxi. No. 9, 1885; 29. Cambridge, O.P., “A New Family (Tartarides) and Genus of Thelyphonidea,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (4) x., 1872, p. 413; Cook, “Hubbardia, a New Genus of Pedipalpi,” Proc. Entom. Soc. Washington, vol. iv., 1899; Thorell, “Tartarides, &c.” Ann. Mus. Genova, vol. xxvii., 1889; 30. M Cook, American Spiders and their Spinning Work (3 vols.; Philadelphia, 1889-1893); 31. Peckham, “On Sexual Selection in Spiders,” Occasional Papers Nat. Hist. Soc. Wisconsin, vol. i. pp. 1-113, 1889; 32. Moggridge, Harvesting Ants and Trap-Door Spiders (1873); 33. Bertkau, Ph., Arch. f. Naturgesch. vol. xlviii. pp. 316-362; Idem, same journal, 1875, p. 235, and 1878, p. 351; Cambridge, O.P., “Araneidea” in Biologia Centr. Americana, vols. i. and ii. (London, 1899); Keyserling, Spinnen Amerikas (Nuremberg, 1880-1892); Pocock, “Liphistius and the Classification of Spiders,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. (6) x., 1892; Simon, Hist. nat. des Araignées, vols. i. and ii., 1892, 1897; Wagner, “L’Industrie des Araneína,” Mem. Acad. St-Pétersbourg; Idem, “La Mue des Araignées,” Ann. Sci. Nat. vol. vi.; 34. Grassi, G.B. “Intorno ad un nuovo Aracnide artrogastro (Koenenia mirabilis) &c.” Boll. Soc. Ent. Ital. vol. xviii., 1886; 35. H.J. Hansen and Sörensen, “The Order Palpigradi, Thorell (Koenenia), and its Relationships with other Arachnida,” Ent. Tidskr. vol. xviii. pp. 233-240, 1898; Kraepelin, Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1901); 36. Bernard. “Compar. Morphol. of the Galeodidae,” Trans. Linn. Soc. Zool. vol. vi., 1896, ibique citata; Dufour, “Galeodes,” Mém. prés. Acad. Sci. Paris, vol. xvii., 1862; Kraepelin, Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1901); Pocock, “Taxonomy of Solifugae,” Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist. vol. xx.; 37. Balzan, “Voyage au Vénézuela (Pseudoscorpiones),” Ann. Soc. Entom. France, 1891, pp. 497-522; 38. Guérin-Méneville, Rev. Zool., 1838, p. II; Karsch, “Ueber Cryptostemma Guer.” Berliner entom. Zeitschrift, xxxviii. pp. 25-32, 1892; Thorell, “On an apparently new Arachnid belonging to the family Cryptostemmidae,” Westv. Bihang Svenska Vet. Akad. Handligar, vol. xvii. No. 9, 1892; 39. Hansen and Sorensen, On Two Orders of Arachnida (Cambridge, 1904); Sörensen, “Opiliones laniatores,” Nat. Tidskr. (3) vol. xiv., 1884; Thorell, “Opilioni,” Ann. Mus. Genova, vol. viii., 1876; 40. Berlese, “Acari, &c., in Italia reperta” (Padova, 1892); Canestrini, Acarofauna Italiana (Padova, 1885); Canestrini and Kramer, “Demodicidae and Sarcoptidae” in Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1899); Michael, “British Oribatidae,” Ray Soc.; Idem, “Oribatidae” in Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1898); Idem, “Progress and Present State of Knowledge of Acari,” Journ. Roy. Micr. Soc., 1894; Nalepa, “Phytoptidae,” Das Thierreich (Berlin, 1898); Trouessart, “Classification des Acariens,” Rev. Sci. Nat. de l’ouest. p. 289, 1892; Wagner, Embryonal Entwick, von Ixodes (St Petersburg, 1803); 41. Bertkau, Ph., “Coxaldrusen der Arachniden,” Sitzb. Niederl. Gesellsch., 1885; 42. Patten, W., “Brain and Sense Organs of Limulus,” Quart. Journ. Mic. Sci. vol. xxxv., 1894; see also his “Origin of Vertebrates from Arachnids,” ibid. vol. xxxi.

Authorities not cited by numbers in the text:—

Authorities not cited by numbers in the text:—

Lung-books:—Berteaux, “Le Poumon des Arachnides,” La Cellule, vol. v. 1891; Jawarowski, “Die Entwick. d. sogen. Lunge bei der Arachniden,” Zeitsch. wiss. Zool. vol. lviii., 1894; Macleod, “Recherches sur la structure et la signification de l’appareil respiratoire des Arachnides,” Arch. d. Biologie. vol. v., 1884; Schneider, A., “Mélanges arachnologiques,” in Tablettes zoologiques, vol. ii. p. 135, 1892; Simmons, “Development of Lung in Spiders,” Amer. Journ. Science, vol. xlviii., 1894. Coxal Glands:—Bertkau, “Ueber die Coxaldrusen der Arachniden,” Sitzb. d. Niederl. Gesellsch., 1885; Loman, “Altes und neues über das Nephridium (die Coxaldrüse) der Arachniden,” Bÿd. tot de Dierkunde, vol. xiv., 1887; Macleod, “Glande coxale chez les Galéodes,” Bull. Acad. Belg. (3) vol. viii., 1884; Pelseneer, “On the Coxal Glands of Mygale,” Proc. Zool. Soc., 1885; Tower, “The External Opening of the brick-red Glands of Limulus,” Zool. Anzeiger, vol. xviii. p. 471, 1895. Ento-sternite:—Schimkewitsch, “Bau und Entwick. des Endosternites der Arachniden,” Zool. Jahrb., Anal. Abtheil., vol. viii., 1894. Embryology:—Balfour, “Development of the Araneina,” Q. J. Micr. Sci. vol. xx., 1880; Kingsley, “The Embryology of Limulus,” Journ. Morphology, vols. vii. and viii.; Kishinouye, “Development of Araneina,” Journ. Coll. Sci. Univ. of Japan, vol. iv., 1890; Locy, “Development of Agelena,” Bull. Mus. Harvard, vol. xii., 1885; Metchnikoff, “Embryologie d. Scorpion,” Zeit. wiss. Zool. vol. xxi., 1871; Idem, “Embryol. Chelifer,” Zeit. wiss. Zool. vol. xxi., 1871; Schimkewitsch, “Développement des Araignées,” Archives d. Biologie, vol. vi. 1887. Sense organs:—Bertkau, “Sinnesorgane der Spinnen,” Arch. f. mikros. Anat. vol. xxvii. p. 589, 1886; Graber, “Unicorneale Tracheaten Auge,” Arch. f. mikr. Anat. vol. xvii., 1879; Grenacher, Gehörorgane der Arthropoden (Göttingen, 1879); Kishinouye, “Lateral Eyes of Spiders,” Zool. Anz. vol. xiv. p. 381, 1891; Purcell, “Phalangiden Augen,” Zool. Anzeiger, vol. xv. p. 461.

Lung-books:—Berteaux, “The Lung of Arachnids,” The Cell, vol. v. 1891; Jawarowski, “The Development of the So-Called Lung in Arachnids,” Journal of Scientific Zoology, vol. lviii., 1894; Macleod, “Research on the Structure and Function of the Respiratory System in Arachnids,” Archives of Biology, vol. v., 1884; Schneider, A., “Arachnological Studies,” in Zoological Tablets, vol. ii. p. 135, 1892; Simmons, “Development of Lung in Spiders,” American Journal of Science, vol. xlviii., 1894. Coxal Glands:—Bertkau, “On the Coxal Glands of Arachnids,” Transactions of the Netherlands Society, 1885; Loman, “Old and New Information on the Nephridium (Coxal Gland) of Arachnids,” Studies on Zoology, vol. xiv., 1887; Macleod, “Coxal Gland in Galeodes,” Bulletin of the Belgian Academy (3) vol. viii., 1884; Pelseneer, “On the Coxal Glands of Mygale,” Proceedings of the Zoological Society, 1885; Tower, “The External Opening of the Brick-Red Glands of Limulus,” Zoological Gazette, vol. xviii. p. 471, 1895. Ento-sternite:—Schimkewitsch, “Structure and Development of the Endosternite in Arachnids,” Zoological Yearbook, Analytical Division, vol. viii., 1894. Embryology:—Balfour, “Development of the Araneina,” Quarterly Journal of Microscience vol. xx., 1880; Kingsley, “The Embryology of Limulus,” Journal of Morphology, vols. vii. and viii.; Kishinouye, “Development of Araneina,” Journal of the College of Science, University of Japan, vol. iv., 1890; Locy, “Development of Agelena,” Bulletin of the Harvard Museum, vol. xii., 1885; Metchnikoff, “Embryology of Scorpions,” Journal of Scientific Zoology vol. xxi., 1871; Idem, “Embryology of Chelifer,” Journal of Scientific Zoology vol. xxi., 1871; Schimkewitsch, “Development of Spiders,” Archives of Biology, vol. vi. 1887. Sense organs:—Bertkau, “Sensory Organs of Spiders,” Archives of Microscopic Anatomy vol. xxvii. p. 589, 1886; Graber, “Unicorneale Trachaeate Eye,” Archives of Microscopic Anatomy vol. xvii., 1879; Grenacher, Hearing Organs of Arthropods (Göttingen, 1879); Kishinouye, “Lateral Eyes of Spiders,” Zoological Gazette vol. xiv. p. 381, 1891; Purcell, “Phalangidae Eyes,” Zoological Gazette, vol. xv. p. 461.

General works on Arachnida:—Blanchard, “Les Arachnides” in L’Organisation du regne animal; Gaubert, “Recherches sur les Arachnides,” Ann. Sci. Nat. (7) vol. xiii., 1892; Koch, C., Die Arachniden (16 vols., Nuremberg, 1831-1848); Koch, Keyserling and Sörensen, Die Arachniden Australiens (Nuremberg, 1871-1890); Pocock, Arachnida of British India (London, 1900); Idem, “On African Arachnida,” in Proc. Zool. Soc. and Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 1897-1900; Simon, Les Arachnides de la France (7 vols., Paris, 1874-1881); Thorell, “Arachnida from the Oriental Region,” Ann. Mus. Genova, 1877-1899.

General works on Arachnida:—Blanchard, “Les Arachnides” in L’Organisation du regne animal; Gaubert, “Recherches sur les Arachnides,” Ann. Sci. Nat. (7) vol. xiii., 1892; Koch, C., Die Arachniden (16 vols., Nuremberg, 1831-1848); Koch, Keyserling and Sörensen, Die Arachniden Australiens (Nuremberg, 1871-1890); Pocock, Arachnida of British India (London, 1900); Idem, “On African Arachnida,” in Proc. Zool. Soc. and Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 1897-1900; Simon, Les Arachnides de la France (7 vols., Paris, 1874-1881); Thorell, “Arachnida from the Oriental Region,” Ann. Mus. Genova, 1877-1899.

(E. R. L.)

1 See the article Arthropoda for the use of the term “prosthomere.”

1 Check out the article Arthropoda for how the term “prosthomere” is used.

2 See fig. 12 in the article Arthropoda.

2 See fig. 12 in the article Arthropoda.

3 Though ten is the prevailing number of retinula cells and rhabdomeres in the lateral eye of Limulus, Watase states that they may be as few as nine and as many as eighteen.

3 Although ten is the most common number of retinula cells and rhabdomeres in the lateral eye of Limulus, Watase mentions that there can be as few as nine or as many as eighteen.

4 A great deal of superfluous hypothesis has lately been put forward in the name of “the principle of convergence of characters” by a certain school of palaeontologists. The horse is supposed by these writers to have originated by separate lines of descent in the Old World and the New, from five-toed ancestors! And the important consequences following from the demonstration of the identity in structure of Limulus and Scorpio are evaded by arbitrary and even phantastic invocations of a mysterious transcendental force which brings about “convergence” irrespective of heredity and selection. Morphology becomes a farce when such assumptions are made.

4 A lot of unnecessary theories have recently been proposed in the name of “the principle of convergence of characters” by some palaeontologists. These writers suggest that horses originated from separate lines of descent in the Old World and the New, tracing back to five-toed ancestors! The significant implications of the structural similarities between Limulus and Scorpio are ignored by arbitrary and even fantastical claims of a mysterious transcendental force that causes “convergence” without considering heredity and selection. Morphology turns into a joke when such assumptions are made.

(E. R. L.)

5 A pair of round tubercles on the labram (camerostome or hypostoma) of several species of Trilobites has been described and held to be a pair of eyes (22). Sense-organs in a similar position were discovered in Limulus by Patten (42) in 1894.

5 A pair of round bumps on the labrum (camerostome or hypostoma) of several species of Trilobites has been identified and considered to be a pair of eyes (22). Sensory organs in a similar location were found in Limulus by Patten (42) in 1894.

6 The writer is indebted to R.I. Pocock, assistant in the Natural History departments of the British Museum, for valuable assistance in the preparation of this article and for the classification and definition of the groups of Eu-arachnida here given. The general scheme and some of the details have been brought by the writer into agreement with the views maintained in this article. Pocock accepts those views in all essential points and has, as a special student of the Arachnida, given to them valuable expansion and confirmation. The writer also desires to express his thanks to Messrs. Macmillan & Co. for permission to use figs. 22, 43, 44 and 45, which are taken from Parker and Haswell’s Text-book of Zoology; and to Messrs. Swan Sonnenschein & Co. for the loan of several figures from the translations published by them of the admirable treatise on Embryology by Professors Korschelt and Heider; also to the publishers of the treatise on Palaeontology by Professor Zittel, Herr Oldenbourg and The Macmillan Co., New York, for several cuts of extinct forms.

6 The author thanks R.I. Pocock, who works in the Natural History departments of the British Museum, for his valuable help in preparing this article and for classifying and defining the groups of Eu-arachnida included here. The author has aligned the general scheme and some details with the perspectives presented in this article. Pocock agrees with these views in all major aspects and, as a specialist in Arachnida, has provided valuable expansion and confirmation. The author also wishes to thank Messrs. Macmillan & Co. for allowing the use of figures 22, 43, 44, and 45, which are from Parker and Haswell’s Text-book of Zoology; and Messrs. Swan Sonnenschein & Co. for lending several figures from their translations of the excellent treatise on Embryology by Professors Korschelt and Heider; and finally to the publishers of the treatise on Palaeontology by Professor Zittel, Herr Oldenbourg, and The Macmillan Co., New York, for several illustrations of extinct forms.

7 Pocock suggests that the area marked vii. in the outline figure of the dorsal view of Limulus (fig. 7) may be the tergum of the suppressed prae-genital somite. Embryological evidence must settle whether this is so or not.

7 Pocock suggests that the area marked vii in the outline figure of the dorsal view of Limulus (fig. 7) might be the tergum of the repressed prae-genital segment. Embryological evidence needs to determine whether this is accurate or not.


ARAD, or Ó-Arad, a town of Hungary, capital of the county of the same name, 159 m. S.E. of Budapest by rail. Pop. (1900) 53,903. It is situated on the right bank of the river Maros, and consists of the inner town and five suburbs. Arad is a modern-built town, and contains many handsome private and public buildings, including a cathedral. It is the seat of a Greek-Orthodox bishop, and possesses a Greek-Orthodox theological seminary, two training schools for teachers—one Hungarian, and the other Rumanian—and a conservatoire for music. The town played an important part in the Hungarian revolution of 1848-49, and possesses a museum containing relics of this war of independence. One of the public squares contains a martyrs’ monument, erected in memory of the thirteen Hungarian generals shot here on the 6th of October 1849, by order of the Austrian general Haynau. It consists of a colossal figure of 312 Hungary, with four allegorical groups, and medallions of the executed generals. Arad is an important railway junction, and has become the largest industrial and commercial centre of south-eastern Hungary. Its principal industries are: distilling, milling, machinery-making, leather-working and saw-milling. A large trade is carried on in grain, flour, alcohol, cattle and wood. Arad was a fortified place, and was captured by the Turks during the wars of the 17th century, and kept by them till the end of that century. The new fortress, built in 1763, although small, was formidable, and played a great role during the Hungarian struggle for independence in 1849. Bravely defended by the Austrian general Berger until the 1st of July 1849, it was then captured by the Hungarian rebels, who made it their headquarters during the latter part of the insurrection. It was from it that Kossuth issued his famous proclamation (11th August 1849), and it was here that he handed over the supreme military and civil power to Görgei. The fortress was recaptured shortly after the surrender of Görgei to the Russians at Világos. The fortress is now used as an ammunition depot.

ARAD, or Ó-Arad, a town in Hungary, is the capital of the county of the same name, located 159 km southeast of Budapest by rail. Population (1900) was 53,903. It’s situated on the right bank of the Maros River and includes the inner town and five suburbs. Arad is a modern town with many attractive private and public buildings, including a cathedral. It houses a Greek Orthodox bishop and has a Greek Orthodox theological seminary, two teacher training schools—one Hungarian and the other Romanian—and a music conservatory. The town played a significant role in the Hungarian revolution of 1848-49 and has a museum with artifacts from this war of independence. One of the public squares features a memorial to the martyrs, commemorating the thirteen Hungarian generals who were executed here on October 6, 1849, by order of the Austrian general Haynau. The monument includes a large statue of 312 Hungary, with four allegorical groups and medallions of the executed generals. Arad is an important railway hub and has grown into the largest industrial and commercial center in southeastern Hungary. Its main industries include distilling, milling, machinery production, leatherworking, and sawmilling. There is significant trade in grain, flour, alcohol, livestock, and timber. Arad was a fortified location, captured by the Turks during the 17th-century wars and held until the end of that century. The new fortress, built in 1763, though small, was strong and played a crucial role during the Hungarian struggle for independence in 1849. It was valiantly defended by Austrian general Berger until July 1, 1849, when it was seized by Hungarian rebels, who used it as their headquarters for the latter part of the uprising. From there, Kossuth issued his famous proclamation on August 11, 1849, and it was where he transferred the supreme military and civil authority to Görgei. The fortress was retaken shortly after Görgei's surrender to the Russians at Világos. Currently, the fortress serves as an ammunition depot.

The town of Uj-Arad, i.e. New Arad (pop. 6124), situated on the opposite bank of the Maros, is practically a suburb of Arad, with which it is connected by a bridge. The town was founded during the Turkish wars of the 17th century. The works erected by the Turks for the capture of the fortress of Arad formed the nucleus of the new town.

The town of Uj-Arad, i.e. New Arad (pop. 6124), located on the opposite bank of the Maros, is essentially a suburb of Arad, linked to it by a bridge. The town was established during the Turkish wars of the 17th century. The structures built by the Turks to capture the fortress of Arad became the core of the new town.

Világos, the town where the famous capitulation of Görgei to the Russians took place on the 13th of August 1849, lies 21 m. by rail north-east of Arad.

Világos, the town where the famous surrender of Görgei to the Russians happened on August 13, 1849, is located 21 miles by rail northeast of Arad.


ARAEOSTYLE (Gr. ἀραιός, weak or widely spaced, and στῦλος, column), an architectural term for the intercolumniation (q.v.) given to those temples where the columns had only timber architraves to carry.

ARAEOSTYLE (Gr. sparse, weak or widely spaced, and column, column), an architectural term for the space between columns (q.v.) used in temples where the columns were only supported by wooden architraves.


ARAEOSYSTYLE (Gr. ἀραιός, widely spaced, and σύστυλος, with columns set close together), an architectural term applied to a colonnade, in which the intercolumniation (q.v.) is alternately wide and narrow, as in the case of the western porch of St Paul’s cathedral and the east front of the Louvre by Perrault.

ARAEOSYSTYLE (Gr. sparse, widely spaced, and σύστυλος, with columns set close together), an architectural term used for a colonnade where the spacing between columns (q.v.) alternates between wide and narrow, similar to the western porch of St Paul’s Cathedral and the east front of the Louvre by Perrault.


ARAGO, DOMINIQUE FRANÇOIS JEAN (1786-1853), French physicist, was born on the 26th of February 1786, at Estagel, a small village near Perpignan, in the department of the eastern Pyrenees. He was the eldest of four brothers. Jean (1788-1836) emigrated to America and became a general in the Mexican army. Jacques Étienne Victor (1799-1855) took part in L.C. de S. de Freycinet’s exploring voyage in the “Uranie” from 1817 to 1821, and on his return to France devoted himself to journalism and the drama. The fourth brother, Étienne Vincent (1802-1892), is said to have collaborated with H. de Balzac in the Héritière de Birague, and from 1822 to 1847 wrote a great number of light dramatic pieces, mostly in collaboration. A strong republican, he was obliged to leave France in 1849, but returned after the amnesty of 1859. In 1879 he was nominated director of the Luxembourg museum.

ARAGO, DOMINIQUE FRANÇOIS JEAN (1786-1853), a French physicist, was born on February 26, 1786, in Estagel, a small village near Perpignan, in the eastern Pyrenees. He was the oldest of four brothers. Jean (1788-1836) moved to America and became a general in the Mexican army. Jacques Étienne Victor (1799-1855) participated in L.C. de S. de Freycinet’s exploration on the “Uranie” from 1817 to 1821, and after returning to France, he pursued a career in journalism and theater. The fourth brother, Étienne Vincent (1802-1892), is said to have worked with H. de Balzac on the Héritière de Birague, and from 1822 to 1847, he wrote numerous light dramatic pieces, mostly in collaboration. A staunch republican, he had to leave France in 1849 but returned after the amnesty in 1859. In 1879, he was appointed director of the Luxembourg museum.

Showing decided military tastes François Arago was sent to the municipal college of Perpignan, where he began to study mathematics in preparation for the entrance examination of the polytechnic school. Within two years and a half he had mastered all the subjects prescribed for examination, and a great deal more, and, on going up for examination at Toulouse, he astounded his examiner by his knowledge of Lagrange. Towards the close of 1803 he entered the polytechnic school, with the artillery service as the aim of his ambition, and in 1804, through the advice and recommendation of S.D. Poisson, he received the appointment of secretary to the Observatory of Paris. He now became acquainted with Laplace, and through his influence was commissioned, with J.B. Biot, to complete the meridional measurements which had been begun by J.B.J. Delambre, and interrupted since the death of P.F.A. Méchain (1744-1804). The two left Paris in 1806 and began operations among the mountains of Spain, but Biot returned to Paris after they had determined the latitude of Formentera, the southernmost point to which they were to carry the survey, leaving Arago to make the geodetical connexion of Majorca with Ivica and with Formentera.

Showing a clear interest in the military, François Arago was sent to the municipal college of Perpignan, where he started studying mathematics to prepare for the entrance exam for the polytechnic school. Within two and a half years, he had mastered all the subjects required for the exam, and much more, and when he sat for the exam in Toulouse, he impressed his examiner with his knowledge of Lagrange. By the end of 1803, he entered the polytechnic school, aiming for a career in the artillery service, and in 1804, thanks to the advice and recommendation of S.D. Poisson, he was appointed secretary at the Observatory of Paris. There, he met Laplace, who helped him get commissioned, along with J.B. Biot, to complete the meridional measurements started by J.B.J. Delambre, which had been interrupted since the death of P.F.A. Méchain (1744-1804). The two left Paris in 1806 and began their work in the mountains of Spain, but Biot returned to Paris after they had determined the latitude of Formentera, the southernmost point of their survey, leaving Arago to establish the geodetic connection between Majorca and Ivica and Formentera.

The adventures and difficulties of the latter were now only beginning. The political ferment caused by the entrance of the French into Spain extended to these islands, and the ignorant populace began to suspect that Arago’s movements and his blazing fires on the top of Mount Galatzo were telegraphic signals to the invading army. Ultimately they became so infuriated that he was obliged to cause himself to be incarcerated in the fortress of Belver in June 1808. On the 28th of July he managed to escape from the island in a fishing-boat, and after an adventurous voyage he reached Algiers on the 3rd of August. Thence he procured a passage in a vessel bound for Marseilles, but on the 16th of August, just as the vessel was nearing Marseilles, it fell into the hands of a Spanish corsair. With the rest of the crew, Arago was taken to Rosas, and imprisoned first in a windmill, and afterwards in the fortress of that seaport, until the town fell into the hands of the French, when the prisoners were transferred to Palamos. After fully three months’ imprisonment they were released on the demand of the dey of Algiers, and again set sail for Marseilles on the 28th of November, but when within sight of their port they were driven back by a northerly wind to Bougie on the coast of Africa. Transport to Algiers by sea from this place would have occasioned a weary stay of three months; Arago, therefore, set out for it by land under conduct of a Mahommedan priest, and reached it on Christmas day. After six months’ stay in Algiers he once again, on the 21st of June 1809, set sail for Marseilles, where he had to undergo a monotonous and inhospitable quarantine in the lazaretto, before his difficulties were over. The first letter he received, while in the lazaretto, was from A. von Humboldt; and this was the origin of a connexion which, in Arago’s words, “lasted over forty years without a single cloud ever having troubled it.”

The adventures and challenges of the latter were just beginning. The political unrest triggered by the French entering Spain spread to these islands, and the uninformed public started to suspect that Arago’s actions and his blazing fires on top of Mount Galatzo were signals to the invading army. Eventually, they became so enraged that he had to have himself locked up in the fortress of Belver in June 1808. On July 28th, he managed to escape from the island in a fishing boat, and after an eventful journey, he reached Algiers on August 3rd. From there, he secured a ride on a ship headed for Marseilles, but on August 16th, just as the ship was approaching Marseilles, it was captured by a Spanish corsair. Along with the rest of the crew, Arago was taken to Rosas and imprisoned first in a windmill, and later in the fortress of that port city, until the town fell into French hands, at which point the prisoners were moved to Palamos. After nearly three months of imprisonment, they were released after the dey of Algiers demanded it, and they set sail for Marseilles again on November 28th. However, as they neared their destination, a northern wind forced them back to Bougie on the coast of Africa. Getting to Algiers by sea from there would have meant a tiring three-month wait, so Arago decided to travel overland with a Muslim priest and arrived on Christmas Day. After spending six months in Algiers, he once again set sail for Marseilles on June 21, 1809, where he had to endure a dull and unwelcoming quarantine in the lazaretto before his troubles were finally over. The first letter he received while in the lazaretto was from A. von Humboldt, which marked the beginning of a connection that, in Arago’s words, “lasted over forty years without a single cloud ever having troubled it.”

Through all these vicissitudes Arago had succeeded in preserving the records of his survey; and his first act on his return home was to deposit them in the Bureau des Longitudes at Paris. As a reward for his adventurous conduct in the cause of science, he was in September 1809 elected a member of the Academy of Sciences, in room of J.B.L. Lalande, at the remarkably early age of twenty-three, and before the close of the same year he was chosen by the council of the polytechnic school to succeed G. Monge in the chair of analytical geometry. About the same time he was named by the emperor one of the astronomers of the Royal Observatory, which was accordingly his residence till his death, and it was in this capacity that he delivered his remarkably successful series of popular lectures on astronomy, which were continued from 1812 to 1845.

Through all these ups and downs, Arago managed to keep the records of his survey safe; and his first action upon returning home was to file them at the Bureau des Longitudes in Paris. As a reward for his daring contributions to science, he was elected a member of the Academy of Sciences in September 1809, taking the place of J.B.L. Lalande at the impressively young age of twenty-three. Before the end of the same year, the council of the polytechnic school appointed him to succeed G. Monge as the chair of analytical geometry. Around the same time, he was appointed by the emperor as one of the astronomers at the Royal Observatory, which became his home until he passed away. In this role, he delivered a highly successful series of popular astronomy lectures from 1812 to 1845.

In 1816, along with Gay-Lussac, he started the Annales de chimie et de physique, and in 1818 or 1819 he proceeded along with Biot to execute geodetic operations on the coasts of France, England and Scotland. They measured the length of the seconds-pendulum at Leith, and in Unst, one of the Shetland isles, the results of the observations being published in 1821, along with those made in Spain. Arago was elected a member of the Board of Longitude immediately afterwards, and contributed to each of its Annuals, for about twenty-two years, important scientific notices on astronomy and meteorology and occasionally on civil engineering, as well as interesting memoirs of members of the Academy.

In 1816, together with Gay-Lussac, he launched the Annales de chimie et de physique. In 1818 or 1819, he teamed up with Biot to conduct geodetic surveys along the coasts of France, England, and Scotland. They measured the length of the seconds pendulum in Leith, and on Unst, one of the Shetland Islands. The results of their observations were published in 1821, along with those collected in Spain. Arago was elected as a member of the Board of Longitude shortly after and contributed important scientific articles on astronomy and meteorology, as well as occasional notes on civil engineering and intriguing memoirs of Academy members, to each of its Annuals for about twenty-two years.

In 1830, Arago, who always professed liberal opinions of the extreme republican type, was elected a member of the chamber of deputies for the Lower Seine, and he employed his splendid gifts of eloquence and scientific knowledge in all questions connected with public education, the rewards of inventors, and the encouragement of the mechanical and practical sciences. Many of the most creditable national enterprises, dating from this period, are due to his advocacy—such as the reward to L.J.M. Daguerre for the invention of photography, the grant for the publication of the works of P. Fermat and Laplace, the acquisition of the museum of Cluny, the development of railways and electric telegraphs, the improvement of the 313 navigation of the Seine, and the boring of the artesian wells at Grenelle.

In 1830, Arago, who consistently expressed extreme republican views, was elected as a member of the Chamber of Deputies for the Lower Seine. He used his impressive eloquence and scientific knowledge to address issues related to public education, inventor rewards, and the promotion of mechanical and practical sciences. Many reputable national initiatives from this time can be attributed to his support, including the reward to L.J.M. Daguerre for inventing photography, funding for publishing the works of P. Fermat and Laplace, the acquisition of the Cluny museum, the expansion of railways and electric telegraphs, the enhancement of Seine navigation, and the drilling of artesian wells at Grenelle.

In the year 1830 also he was appointed director of the Observatory, and as a member of the chamber of deputies he was able to obtain grants of money for rebuilding it in part, and for the addition of magnificent instruments. In the same year, too, he was chosen perpetual secretary of the Academy of Sciences, in room of J.B.J. Fourier. Arago threw his whole soul into its service, and by his faculty of making friends he gained at once for it and for himself a world-wide reputation. As perpetual secretary it fell to him to pronounce historical éloges on deceased members; and for this duty his rapidity and facility of thought, his happy piquancy of style, and his extensive knowledge peculiarly adapted him.

In 1830, he was appointed the director of the Observatory, and as a member of the chamber of deputies, he managed to secure funding for partly rebuilding it and adding impressive instruments. That same year, he was also chosen as the perpetual secretary of the Academy of Sciences, replacing J.B.J. Fourier. Arago dedicated himself fully to this role, and his knack for making connections helped him earn a global reputation for both the Academy and himself. As the perpetual secretary, he was responsible for delivering historical éloges for deceased members; for this task, his quick thinking, engaging writing style, and extensive knowledge made him particularly suited.

In 1834 he again visited England, to attend the meeting of the British Association at Edinburgh. From this time till 1848 he led a life of comparative quiet—not the quiet of inactivity, however, for his incessant labours within the Academy and the Observatory produced a multitude of contributions to all departments of physical science,—but on the fall of Louis Philippe he left his laboratory to join in forming the provisional government. He was entrusted with the discharge of two important functions, that had never before been united in one person, viz. the ministry of war and of marine; and in the latter capacity he effected some salutary reforms, such as the improvement of rations in the navy and the abolition of flogging. He also abolished political oaths of all kinds, and, against an array of moneyed interests, succeeded in procuring the abolition of negro slavery in the French colonies.

In 1834, he visited England again to attend the British Association meeting in Edinburgh. From that time until 1848, he lived a relatively quiet life—not a life of inactivity, though, as his continuous work at the Academy and the Observatory led to numerous contributions in various fields of physical science. However, after the fall of Louis Philippe, he left his lab to help form the provisional government. He was given the responsibility of two important roles that had never been held by one person before: the ministries of war and marine. In the latter role, he implemented several beneficial reforms, including improving rations in the navy and ending flogging. He also eliminated political oaths of all kinds and, despite significant opposition from wealthy interests, succeeded in abolishing slavery in the French colonies.

In the beginning of May 1852, when the government of Louis Napoleon required an oath of allegiance from all its functionaries, Arago peremptorily refused, and sent in his resignation of his post as astronomer at the Bureau des Longitudes. This, however, the prince president, to his credit, declined to accept, and made “an exception in favour of a savant whose works had thrown lustre on France, and whose existence his government would regret to embitter.” But the tenure of office thus granted did not prove of long duration. Arago was now on his death-bed, under a complication of diseases, induced, no doubt, by the hardships and labours of his earlier years. In the summer of 1853 he was advised by his physicians to try the effect of his native air, and he accordingly set out for the eastern Pyrenees. But the change was unavailing, and after a lingering illness, in which he suffered first from diabetes, then from Bright’s disease, complicated by dropsy, he died in Paris on the 2nd of October 1853.

In early May 1852, when Louis Napoleon's government demanded an oath of loyalty from all its officials, Arago firmly refused and submitted his resignation as an astronomer at the Bureau des Longitudes. However, the president, to his credit, chose not to accept it, making “an exception in favor of a savant whose work had brought prestige to France, and whose existence his government would regret to sour.” But the extended term in office was short-lived. Arago was now on his deathbed, suffering from multiple illnesses likely caused by the hardships and demands of his earlier life. In the summer of 1853, his doctors recommended that he try the fresh air of his homeland, so he headed to the eastern Pyrenees. Unfortunately, the change did not help, and after a prolonged illness where he first battled diabetes, then Bright’s disease complicated by dropsy, he passed away in Paris on October 2, 1853.

Arago’s fame as an experimenter and discoverer rests mainly on his contributions to magnetism and still more to optics. He found that a magnetic needle, made to oscillate over nonferruginous surfaces, such as water, glass, copper, &c., falls more rapidly in the extent of its oscillations according as it is more or less approached to the surface. This discovery, which gained him the Copley medal of the Royal Society in 1825, was followed by another, that a rotating plate of copper tends to communicate its motion to a magnetic needle suspended over it (“magnetism of rotation”). Arago is also fairly entitled to be regarded as having proved the long-suspected connexion between the aurora borealis and the variations of the magnetic elements.

Arago’s reputation as an experimenter and discoverer is mainly based on his contributions to magnetism and even more so to optics. He discovered that a magnetic needle, when allowed to swing over non-magnetic surfaces like water, glass, and copper, loses its oscillations more quickly as it gets closer to the surface. This discovery earned him the Copley medal from the Royal Society in 1825. He later found that a rotating copper plate tends to transfer its motion to a magnetic needle suspended above it (known as “magnetism of rotation”). Arago is also quite justified in being recognized for demonstrating the long-suspected connection between the aurora borealis and changes in magnetic elements.

In optics we owe to him not only important optical discoveries of his own, but the credit of stimulating the genius of A.J. Fresnel, with whose history, as well as with that of E.L. Malus and of Thomas Young, this part of his life is closely interwoven. Shortly after the beginning of the 19th century the labours of these three philosophers were shaping the modern doctrine of the undulatory theory of light. Fresnel’s arguments in favour of that theory found little favour with Laplace, Poisson and Biot, the champions of the emission theory; but they were ardently espoused by Humboldt and by Arago, who had been appointed by the Academy to report on the paper. This was the foundation of an intimate friendship between Arago and Fresnel, and of a determination to carry on together further researches in this subject, which led to the enunciation of the fundamental laws of the polarization of light known by their names (see Polarization). As a result of this work Arago constructed a polariscope, which he used for some interesting observations on the polarization of the light of the sky. To him is also due the discovery of the power of rotatory polarization exhibited by quartz, and last of all, among his many contributions to the support of the undulatory hypothesis, comes the experimentum crucis which he proposed to carry out for comparing directly the velocity of light in air and in water or glass. On the emission theory the velocity should be accelerated by an increase of density in the medium; on the wave theory, it should be retarded. In 1838 he communicated to the Academy the details of his apparatus, which utilized the revolving mirrors employed by Sir C. Wheatstone in 1835 for measuring the velocity of the electric discharge; but owing to the great care required in the carrying out of the project, and to the interruption to his labours caused by the revolution of 1848, it was the spring of 1850 before he was ready to put his idea to the test; and then his eyesight suddenly gave way. Before his death, however, the retardation of light in denser media was demonstrated by the experiments of H.L. Fizeau and J.B.L. Foucault, which, with improvements in detail, were based on the plan proposed by him.

In optics, we owe him not only important optical discoveries of his own but also the credit for inspiring the genius of A.J. Fresnel, whose history, along with that of E.L. Malus and Thomas Young, is closely linked to this part of his life. Shortly after the start of the 19th century, the work of these three philosophers was shaping the modern understanding of the wave theory of light. Fresnel’s arguments supporting that theory didn't gain much support from Laplace, Poisson, and Biot, the advocates of the emission theory; however, they were strongly supported by Humboldt and Arago, who were appointed by the Academy to review the paper. This led to a close friendship between Arago and Fresnel, and a shared commitment to further research on this topic, which resulted in the fundamental laws of light polarization known by their names (see Polarization). As a result of this work, Arago built a polariscope, which he used for some intriguing observations on the polarization of sky light. He is also credited with discovering the power of rotatory polarization exhibited by quartz, and lastly, among his many contributions to supporting the wave hypothesis, is the experimentum crucis he proposed to directly compare the speed of light in air and in water or glass. According to the emission theory, the speed should increase with densification of the medium; under the wave theory, it should slow down. In 1838, he shared the details of his apparatus with the Academy, which employed the rotating mirrors used by Sir C. Wheatstone in 1835 to measure the speed of electric discharge; but due to the meticulous nature of the project and interruptions from the revolution of 1848, he wasn't ready to test his idea until spring 1850; then, suddenly, he lost his eyesight. However, before his passing, the slowing of light in denser media was demonstrated by the experiments of H.L. Fizeau and J.B.L. Foucault, which, with refinements, were based on his proposed plan.

Arago’s Œuvres were published after his death under the direction of J.A. Barral, in 17 vols., 8vo, 1854-1862; also separately his Astronomie populaire, in 4 vols.; Notices biographiques, in 3 vols.; Notices scientifiques, in 5 vols.; Voyages scientifiques, in 1 vol.; Mémoires scientifiques, in 2 vols.; Mélanges, in 1 vol.; and Tables analytiques et documents importants (with portrait), in 1 vol. English translations of the following portions of his works have appeared:—Treatise on Comets, by C. Gold, C.B. (London, 1833); also translated by Smyth and Grant (London, 1861); Hist. éloge of James Watt, by James Muirhead (London, 1839); also translated, with notes, by Lord Brougham; Popular Lectures on Astronomy, by Walter Kelly and Rev. L. Tomlinson (London, 1854); also translated by Dr W.H. Smyth and Prof. R. Grant, 2 vols. (London, 1855); Arago’s Autobiography, translated by the Rev. Baden Powell (London, 1855, 1858); Arago’s Meteorological Essays, with introduction by Humboldt, translated under the superintendence of Colonel Sabine (London, 1855), and Arago’s Biographies of Scientific Men, translated by Smyth, Powell and Grant, 8vo (London, 1857).

Arago’s Œuvres were published posthumously under the guidance of J.A. Barral, in 17 volumes, 8vo, from 1854 to 1862. Additionally, his works also include Astronomie populaire in 4 volumes; Notices biographiques in 3 volumes; Notices scientifiques in 5 volumes; Voyages scientifiques in 1 volume; Mémoires scientifiques in 2 volumes; Mélanges in 1 volume; and Tables analytiques et documents importants (with portrait) in 1 volume. English translations of select portions of his works have been published: Treatise on Comets, by C. Gold, C.B. (London, 1833); also translated by Smyth and Grant (London, 1861); Hist. éloge of James Watt, by James Muirhead (London, 1839); also translated, with notes, by Lord Brougham; Popular Lectures on Astronomy, by Walter Kelly and Rev. L. Tomlinson (London, 1854); also translated by Dr W.H. Smyth and Prof. R. Grant, in 2 volumes (London, 1855); Arago’s Autobiography, translated by Rev. Baden Powell (London, 1855, 1858); Arago’s Meteorological Essays, with an introduction by Humboldt, translated under the supervision of Colonel Sabine (London, 1855); and Arago’s Biographies of Scientific Men, translated by Smyth, Powell, and Grant, 8vo (London, 1857).


ARAGON, or Arragon (in Span. Aragón), a captaincy-general, and formerly a kingdom of Spain; bounded on the N. by the Pyrenees, which separate it from France, on the E. by Catalonia and Valencia, S. by Valencia, and W. by the two Castiles and Navarre. Pop. (1900) 912,711; area, 18,294 sq. m. Aragon was divided in 1833 into the provinces of Huesca, Teruel and Saragossa; an account of its modern condition is therefore given under these names, which have not, however, superseded the older designation in popular usage.

ARAGON, or Arragon (in Spanish Aragón), a captaincy-general and formerly a kingdom of Spain; bordered to the north by the Pyrenees, which separate it from France, to the east by Catalonia and Valencia, to the south by Valencia, and to the west by the two Castiles and Navarre. Population (1900) 912,711; area, 18,294 sq. miles. Aragon was divided in 1833 into the provinces of Huesca, Teruel, and Saragossa; an overview of its modern situation is therefore provided under these names, which have not, however, replaced the older name in everyday usage.

Aragon consists of a central plain, edged by mountain ranges. On the south, east and west, these ranges, though wild and rugged, are of no great elevation, but on the north the Pyrenees attain their greatest altitude in the peaks of Aneto (11,168 ft.) and Monte Perdido (10,998 ft.)—also known as Las Tres Sorores, and, in French, as Mont Perdu. The central pass over the Pyrenees is the Port de Canfranc, on the line between Saragossa and Pau. Aragon is divided by the river Ebro (q.v.), which flows through it in a south-easterly direction, into two nearly equal parts, known as Trans-ibero and Cis-ibero. The Ebro is the principal river, and receives from the north, in its passage through the province, the Arba, the Gallego and the united waters of the Cinca, Esera, Noguera Ribagorzana, Noguera Pallaresa and Segre—the last three belonging to Catalonia. From the south it receives the Jalon and Jiloca (or Xalon and Xiloca) and the Guadalope. The Imperial Canal of Aragon, which was begun by the emperor Charles V. in 1529, but remained unfinished for nearly two hundred years, extends from Tudela to El Burgo de Ebro, a distance of 80 m.; it has a depth of 9 ft., and an average breadth of 69, and is navigable for vessels of about 80 tons. The Royal Canal of Tauste, which lies along the north side of the Ebro, was cut for purposes of irrigation, and gives fertility to the district. Two leagues north-north-east of Albarracin is the remarkable fountain called Cella, 3700 ft. above the 314 sea, which forms the source of the Jiloca; and between this river and the Sierra Molina is an extensive lake called Gallocanta, covering about 6000 acres. The climate is characterized by extreme heat in the summer and cold in the winter; among the mountains the snowfall is heavy, and thunderstorms are frequent, but there is comparatively little rain.

Aragon features a central plain surrounded by mountain ranges. To the south, east, and west, these ranges, while wild and rugged, aren't particularly high. However, to the north, the Pyrenees reach their highest peaks with Aneto (11,168 ft.) and Monte Perdido (10,998 ft.)—also known as Las Tres Sorores, and called Mont Perdu in French. The main route through the Pyrenees is the Port de Canfranc, which connects Saragossa and Pau. The region is divided by the Ebro River (q.v.), which flows southeastward through it, dividing it into two nearly equal sections known as Trans-ibero and Cis-ibero. The Ebro is the main river and receives several northern tributaries as it streams through the province: the Arba, the Gallego, and the combined waters of the Cinca, Esera, Noguera Ribagorzana, Noguera Pallaresa, and Segre—all of which belong to Catalonia. From the south, it connects with the Jalon and Jiloca (or Xalon and Xiloca) and the Guadalope. The Imperial Canal of Aragon, initiated by Emperor Charles V in 1529 and unfinished for nearly two centuries, stretches from Tudela to El Burgo de Ebro, covering 80 miles; it has a depth of 9 feet and an average width of 69 feet, making it navigable for vessels weighing around 80 tons. The Royal Canal of Tauste, located along the north side of the Ebro, was constructed for irrigation purposes and enhances the area's fertility. Two leagues north-northeast of Albarracín is a notable fountain called Cella, situated 3,700 feet above sea level, which serves as the source of the Jiloca; between this river and Sierra Molina lies a large lake named Gallocanta, spanning about 6,000 acres. The climate is marked by extreme heat in summer and cold in winter; heavy snowfall occurs in the mountains, and thunderstorms are common, but overall, there is relatively little rainfall.

Within a recent geological period, central Aragon was undoubtedly submerged by the sea, and the parched chalky soil remains saturated with salt, while many of the smaller streams run brackish. As the mountains of Valencia and Catalonia effectually bar out the fertilizing moisture of the sea-winds, much of the province is a sheer wilderness, stony, ash-coloured, scarred with dry watercourses, and destitute of any vegetation except thin grass and heaths. In contrast with the splendid fertility of Valencia or the south of France, the landscape of this region, like the rest of central Spain, seems almost a continuation of the north African desert area. There are, however, extensive oak, pine and beech forests in the highlands, and many beautiful oases in the deeply sunk valleys, and along the rivers, especially beside the Ebro, which is, therefore, often called the “Nile of Aragon.” In such oases the flora is exceedingly rich. Wheat, maize, rice, oil, flax and hemp, of fine quality, are grown in considerable quantities; as well as saffron, madder, liquorice, sumach, and a variety of fruits. Merino wool is one of the chief products.

During a recent geological period, central Aragon was definitely underwater, and the dry, chalky soil is still full of salt, while many of the smaller streams are salty. The mountains of Valencia and Catalonia effectively block the nourishing moisture from the sea winds, leaving much of the province a barren wilderness, rocky, gray, marked by dry riverbeds, and lacking any vegetation except for sparse grass and heaths. Compared to the rich fertility of Valencia or southern France, the landscape of this region, like much of central Spain, appears to be almost an extension of the north African desert. However, there are large oak, pine, and beech forests in the highlands and many beautiful oases in the deeply sunken valleys and along the rivers, particularly by the Ebro, which is often referred to as the "Nile of Aragon." In these oases, the plant life is very diverse. Wheat, corn, rice, oil, flax, and high-quality hemp are grown in substantial amounts, along with saffron, madder, licorice, sumac, and various fruits. Merino wool is one of the main products.

In purity of race the Aragonese are probably equal to the Castilians, to whom, rather than to the Catalans or Valencians, they are also allied in character. The dress of the women is less distinctive than that of the men, who wear a picturesque black and white costume, with knee-breeches, a brilliantly coloured sash, black hempen sandals, and a handkerchief wound round the head.

In terms of racial purity, the Aragonese are likely equal to the Castilians, with whom they share more in common character-wise than with the Catalans or Valencians. The women's attire is less distinctive compared to that of the men, who sport a striking black and white outfit, featuring knee-breeches, a brightly colored sash, black hemp sandals, and a handkerchief tied around their heads.

Three counties—Sobrarbe, situated near the headwaters of the Cinca, Aragon, to the west, and Ribagorza or Ribagorça, to the east—are indicated by tradition and the earliest chronicles as the cradle of the Aragonese monarchy. These districts were never wholly subdued when the Moors overran the country (711-713). Sobrarbe especially was for a time the headquarters of the Christian defence in eastern Spain. About 1035, Sancho III. the Great, ruler of the newly established kingdom of Navarre, which included the three counties above mentioned, bequeathed them to Gonzalez and Ramiro, his sons. Ramiro soon rid himself of his rival, and welded Sobrarbe, Ribagorza and Aragon into a single kingdom, which thenceforward grew rapidly in size and power and shared with Castile the chief part in the struggle against the Moors. The history of this period, which was terminated by the union of Castile and Aragon under Ferdinand and Isabella in 1479, is given, along with a full account of the very interesting constitution of Aragon, under Spain (q.v.). At the height of its power under James I. (1213-1276), the kingdom included Valencia, Catalonia, the Balearic Islands and the considerable territory of Montpellier in France; while Peter III. (1276-1285) added Sicily to his dominions.

Three counties—Sobrarbe, located near the headwaters of the Cinca, in Aragon to the west, and Ribagorza or Ribagorça, to the east—are traditionally and historically recognized as the birthplace of the Aragonese monarchy. These areas were never completely conquered when the Moors invaded the region (711-713). Sobrarbe, in particular, served for a time as the center of Christian resistance in eastern Spain. Around 1035, Sancho III the Great, the ruler of the newly formed kingdom of Navarre, which included the three previously mentioned counties, passed them on to his sons Gonzalez and Ramiro. Ramiro quickly eliminated his rival and united Sobrarbe, Ribagorza, and Aragon into one kingdom, which subsequently expanded rapidly in size and power, partnering with Castile in the main efforts against the Moors. The history of this era, which ended with the unification of Castile and Aragon under Ferdinand and Isabella in 1479, is detailed, along with a comprehensive account of the fascinating constitution of Aragon, under Spain (q.v.). At the height of its power under James I. (1213-1276), the kingdom encompassed Valencia, Catalonia, the Balearic Islands, and the significant territory of Montpellier in France, while Peter III. (1276-1285) expanded his reign to include Sicily.

The literature relating to Aragon is very extensive. See, in addition to the works cited in the article Spain (section History), “Les Archives d’Aragon et de Navarre,” by L. Cadier, in Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes, 49 (Paris, 1888). Among the more important original authorities, the following may be selected:—for general history, Anales de la corona de Aragón, by G. Çurita, 3rd ed. in 7 folio volumes (Saragossa, 1668-1671; 1st ed. 1562-1580);—for ecclesiastical history, Teatro histórico de las iglesias de Aragón (Pamplona, 1770-1807); for economic history, História de la economia politica de Aragón, by I.J. de Asso y del Rio (Saragossa, 1798). For the constitution and laws of Aragon, see Orígines del Justicia de Aragón, &c., by J. Ribera Tarrago (Saragossa, 1897), and Instituciones y reyes de Aragón, by V. Balaguér (Madrid, 1896). The topography, inhabitants, art, products, &c., of the kingdom are described in a volume of the series España entitled Aragón, by J.M. Quadrado (Barcelona, 1886).

The literature on Aragon is quite extensive. For more details, refer to the works mentioned in the article Spain (section History), "Les Archives d’Aragon et de Navarre," by L. Cadier, in Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes, 49 (Paris, 1888). Among the key original sources, consider the following: for general history, Anales de la corona de Aragón, by G. Çurita, 3rd ed. in 7 folio volumes (Saragossa, 1668-1671; 1st ed. 1562-1580); for ecclesiastical history, Teatro histórico de las iglesias de Aragón (Pamplona, 1770-1807); for economic history, História de la economia politica de Aragón, by I.J. de Asso y del Rio (Saragossa, 1798). For details on the constitution and laws of Aragon, see Orígines del Justicia de Aragón, &c., by J. Ribera Tarrago (Saragossa, 1897), and Instituciones y reyes de Aragón, by V. Balaguér (Madrid, 1896). The topography, inhabitants, art, products, etc., of the kingdom are detailed in the volume Aragón, by J.M. Quadrado in the series España (Barcelona, 1886).


ARAGONITE, one of the mineral forms of calcium carbonate (CaCO3), the other form being the more common mineral calcite. It crystallizes in the orthorhombic system, and the crystals are either prismatic or acicular in habit. Simple crystals are, however, rare; twinning on the prism planes (M in the figures) being a characteristic feature of the mineral (fig. 1). This twinning is usually often repeated on the same plane (fig. 2), and gives rise to striations on the terminal faces (k) of the crystals; often, also, three crystals are twinned together on two of the prism planes of one of them, producing an apparently hexagonal prism. The mineral is colourless, white or yellowish, transparent or translucent, has a vitreous lustre, and, in fact, is not unlike calcite in general appearance. It may, however, always be readily distinguished from calcite by the absence of any marked cleavage, and by its greater hardness (H. = 3½ − 4) and specific gravity (2.93); further, it is optically biaxial, whilst calcite is uniaxial. It is brittle and has a subconchoidal fracture; on a fractured surface the lustre is decidedly resinous in character.

ARAGONITE, is one of the mineral forms of calcium carbonate (CaCO3), with the other form being the more common mineral calcite. It crystallizes in the orthorhombic system, and the crystals are typically prismatic or needle-like in shape. Simple crystals are quite rare; twinning on the prism planes (M in the figures) is a distinctive feature of the mineral (fig. 1). This twinning often occurs repeatedly on the same plane (fig. 2) and creates striations on the terminal faces (k) of the crystals. Sometimes, three crystals are twinned together on two of the prism planes of one of them, forming what looks like a hexagonal prism. The mineral is colorless, white, or yellowish and is either transparent or translucent, exhibiting a glassy luster. In general appearance, it resembles calcite; however, it can always be easily differentiated from calcite by the lack of any significant cleavage, its greater hardness (H. = 3½ − 4), and its higher specific gravity (2.93). Additionally, it is optically biaxial, while calcite is uniaxial. It is brittle and has a subconchoidal fracture; on a broken surface, the luster is noticeably resinous.

Fig. 1. Fig. 2.

The mineral was first found, as reddish twinned crystals with the form of six-sided prisms, at Molina in Aragon, Spain, where it occurs with gypsum and small crystals of ferruginous quartz in a red clay. It is from this locality that the mineral takes its name, which was originally spelt arragonite. Fine groups of crystals of the same habit are found in the sulphur deposits of Girgenti in Sicily; also at Herrengrund near Neusohl in Hungary. At many other localities the mineral takes the form of radiating groups of acicular crystals, such as those from the haematite mines of west Cumberland: beautiful feathery forms have been found in a limestone cave in the Transvaal. Fibrous forms are also common. A peculiar coralloidal variety known as flosferri (“flower of iron”) consists of radially arranged fibres: magnificent snow-white specimens of this variety have long been known from the iron mines of Eisenetz in Styria. The calcareous secretions of many groups of invertebrate animals consist of aragonite (calcite is also common); pearls may be specially cited as an example.

The mineral was first discovered as reddish twinned crystals shaped like six-sided prisms at Molina in Aragon, Spain, where it’s found alongside gypsum and small crystals of ferruginous quartz in red clay. It's from this location that the mineral gets its name, which was originally spelled arragonite. Beautiful groups of crystals with the same structure can be found in the sulfur deposits of Girgenti in Sicily, as well as at Herrengrund near Neusohl in Hungary. In many other locations, the mineral appears as radiating clusters of needle-like crystals, such as those from the hematite mines of west Cumberland. Stunning feathery shapes have also been found in a limestone cave in the Transvaal. Fibrous forms are quite common too. A unique coralloidal variety known as flosferri (“flower of iron”) consists of radially arranged fibers; magnificent pure white specimens of this variety have long been known from the iron mines of Eisenetz in Styria. The calcareous secretions from many groups of invertebrate animals are made of aragonite (calcite is also frequently found); pearls can be specifically mentioned as an example.

Aragonite is a member of the isomorphous group of minerals comprising witherite (BaCO3), strontianite (SrCO3), cerussite (PbCO3) and bromlite ((Ba, Ca)CO3); and crystals of aragonite sometimes contain small amounts of strontium or lead. A variety known as tarnowitzite, from Tarnowitz in Silesia, contains about 5% of lead carbonate.

Aragonite is part of the isomorphous group of minerals that includes witherite (BaCO3), strontianite (SrCO3), cerussite (PbCO3), and bromlite ((Ba, Ca)CO3). Crystals of aragonite sometimes have small amounts of strontium or lead. A variety called tarnowitzite, from Tarnowitz in Silesia, contains about 5% lead carbonate.

Aragonite is the more unstable of the two modifications of calcium carbonate. A crystal of aragonite when heated becomes converted into a granular aggregate of calcite individuals: altered crystals of this kind (paramorphs) are not infrequently met with in nature, whilst in fossil shells the original nacreous layer of aragonite has invariably been altered to calcite. From a solution of calcium carbonate in water containing carbon dioxide crystals of calcite are deposited at the ordinary temperature, but from a warm solution aragonite crystallizes out. The thermal springs of Carlsbad deposit spherical concretions of aragonite, forming masses known as pisolite or Sprudelstein.

Aragonite is the more unstable of the two forms of calcium carbonate. When heated, a crystal of aragonite transforms into a granular mass of calcite crystals. Altered forms like this (called paramorphs) are often found in nature, and in fossil shells, the original nacreous layer of aragonite is usually changed to calcite. From a solution of calcium carbonate in water that contains carbon dioxide, calcite crystals form at normal temperatures, while aragonite crystallizes from a warm solution. The thermal springs of Carlsbad produce spherical blobs of aragonite, forming structures known as pisolite or Sprudelstein.

(L. J. S.)

ARAGUA, one of the smaller states of Venezuela under the redivision of 1904, lying principally within the parallel ranges of the Venezuelan Cordillera, and comprising some of the most fertile and healthful valleys of the republic. It is bounded E. by the Federal District and Maturin, S. by Guárico and W. by Zamora and Carabobo. Pop. (1905, est.) 152,364. Aragua has a short coast-line on the Caribbean west of the Federal District, but has no port of consequence. Cattle, swine and goats are raised, and the state produces coffee, sugar, cacao, beans, cereals and cheese. The climate of the higher valleys is subtropical, the mean annual temperature ranging from 74° to 80° F. The capital, La Victoria (pop. 7800), is situated in the fertile Aragua valley, 1558 ft. above sea-level and 36 m. south-west of Carácas. Other important towns are Barbacoas (pop. 13,109) on the left bank of the Guarico in a highly fertile region, Ciudad de Cura and Maracay (pop. 7500), 56 m. west-south-west of 315 Carácas near the north-east shore of Lake Valencia. The last two towns are on the railway between Carácas and Valencia.

ARAGUA, is one of the smaller states of Venezuela as redefined in 1904, primarily located in the parallel ranges of the Venezuelan Cordillera, and contains some of the most fertile and healthy valleys in the country. It is bordered to the east by the Federal District and Maturin, to the south by Guárico, and to the west by Zamora and Carabobo. The estimated population in 1905 was 152,364. Aragua has a short coastline on the Caribbean to the west of the Federal District but lacks significant ports. The state raises cattle, pigs, and goats and produces coffee, sugar, cacao, beans, grains, and cheese. The climate in the higher valleys is subtropical, with an average annual temperature ranging from 74° to 80° F. The capital, La Victoria (population 7,800), is located in the fertile Aragua valley at an elevation of 1,558 feet above sea level and 36 miles southwest of Caracas. Other significant towns include Barbacoas (population 13,109), situated on the left bank of the Guarico in a very fertile area, Ciudad de Cura, and Maracay (population 7,500), which is 56 miles west-southwest of 315 Caracas, near the northeastern shore of Lake Valencia. The last two towns are located on the railway between Caracas and Valencia.


ARAGUAYA, Araguay or Araguia, a river of Brazil and principal affluent of the Tocantins, rising in the Serra do Cayapó, where it is known as the Rio Grande, and flowing in a north by east direction to a junction with the Tocantins at Sao Joao do Araguaya, or Sao Joao das Duas Barras. Its upper course forms the boundary line between Goyaz and Matto Grosso. The river divides into two branches at about 13° 20′ S. lat., and unites again at 10° 30′, forming the large island of Santa Anna or Bananal. The eastern branch, called the Furo, is the one used by boats, as the main channel is obstructed by rapids. Its principal affluent is the Rio das Mortes, which rises in the Serra de Sao Jeronymo, near Cuyabá, Matto Grosso, and is utilized by boatmen going to Pará. Of other affluents, the Bonito, Garças, Cristallino and Tapirapé on the west, and the Pitombas, Claro, Vermelho, Tucupá and Chavante on the east, nothing definite is known as the country is still largely unexplored. The Araguaya has a course of 1080 m., considerable stretches of which are navigable for small river steamers, but as the river below Santa Anna Island is interrupted by reefs and rapids in two places—one having a fall of 85 ft. in 18 m., and the other a fall of 50 ft. in 12 m.—it affords no practicable outlet for the products of the state. It was explored in part by Henri Coudreau in 1897.

ARAGUAYA, Araguai or Araguaya is a river in Brazil and the main tributary of the Tocantins. It starts in the Serra do Cayapó, where it's called the Rio Grande, and flows northeast until it meets the Tocantins at Sao Joao do Araguaya, or Sao Joao das Duas Barras. The upper part of the river forms the border between Goyaz and Matto Grosso. At about 13° 20′ S. latitude, the river splits into two branches and reconnects at 10° 30′, creating the large island of Santa Anna or Bananal. The eastern branch, known as the Furo, is the route taken by boats since the main channel is blocked by rapids. Its main tributary is the Rio das Mortes, which originates in the Serra de Sao Jeronymo, near Cuyabá, Matto Grosso, and is used by boatmen traveling to Pará. Little is known about other tributaries like Bonito, Garças, Cristallino, and Tapirapé on the west, and Pitombas, Claro, Vermelho, Tucupá, and Chavante on the east, because the region is still largely unexplored. The Araguaya spans 1,080 km, with significant sections navigable for small river steamers. However, below Santa Anna Island, the river is interrupted by reefs and rapids in two spots—one has an 85 ft drop over 18 m, and the other a 50 ft drop over 12 m—making it impractical for transporting state products. It was partially explored by Henri Coudreau in 1897.

See Coudreau’s Voyage au Tocantins-Araguaya (Paris, 1897).

See Coudreau’s Voyage au Tocantins-Araguaya (Paris, 1897).


ARAKAN, a division of Lower Burma. It consists of a strip of country running along the eastern seaboard of the Bay of Bengal, from the Naaf estuary, on the borders of Chittagong, to Cape Negrais. Length from northern extremity to Cape Negrais, about 400 m.; greatest breadth in the northern part, 90 m., gradually diminishing towards the south, as it is hemmed in by the Arakan Yoma mountains, until, in the extreme south, it tapers away to a narrow strip not more than 15 m. across. The coast is studded with islands, the most important of which are Cheduba, Ramree and Shahpura. The division has its headquarters at Akyab and consists of four districts—namely, Akyab, Northern Arakan Hill Tracts, Sandoway and Kyaukpyu, formerly called Ramree. Its area is 18,540 sq. m. The population at the time of the British occupation in 1826 did not exceed 100,000. In 1831 it amounted to 173,000; in 1839 to 248,000, and in 1901 to 762,102.

ARAKAN, is a region of Lower Burma. It stretches along the eastern coast of the Bay of Bengal, from the Naaf estuary, near Chittagong, to Cape Negrais. The length from the northern end to Cape Negrais is about 400 miles; its widest point in the north is 90 miles, gradually narrowing towards the south as it is flanked by the Arakan Yoma mountains, until, in the far south, it tapers down to a strip no more than 15 miles wide. The coastline is dotted with islands, the most notable being Cheduba, Ramree, and Shahpura. The region's administrative center is in Akyab and includes four districts—Akyab, Northern Arakan Hill Tracts, Sandoway, and Kyaukpyu, previously known as Ramree. It covers an area of 18,540 square miles. The population during British rule in 1826 was fewer than 100,000. By 1831, it reached 173,000; by 1839, 248,000; and by 1901, 762,102.

The principal rivers of Arakan are—(1) the Naaf estuary, in the north, which forms the boundary between the division and Chittagong; (2) the Myu river, an arm of the sea, running a course almost parallel with the coast for about 50 m.; (3) the Koladaing river, rising near the Blue mountain, in the extreme north-east, and falling into the Bay of Bengal a few miles south of the Myu river, navigable by vessels of from 300 to 400 tons burden for a distance of 40 m. inland; and (4) the Lemyu river, a considerable stream falling into the bay a few miles south of the Koladaing. Farther to the south, owing to the nearness of the range which bounds Arakan on the east, the rivers are of but little importance. These are the Talak and the Aeng, navigable by boats; and the Sandoway, the Taungup and the Gwa streams, the latter of which alone has any importance, owing to its mouth forming a good port of call or haven for vessels of from 9 to 10 ft. draught. There are several passes over the Yoma mountains, the easiest being that called the Aeng route, leading from the village of that name into Upper Burma. The staple crop of the province is rice, along with cotton, tobacco, sugar, hemp and indigo. The forests produce abundance of excellent oak and teak timber.

The main rivers of Arakan are—(1) the Naaf estuary in the north, which acts as the border between the division and Chittagong; (2) the Myu river, a sea arm that runs almost parallel with the coast for about 50 miles; (3) the Koladaing river, which begins near the Blue Mountain in the far northeast and flows into the Bay of Bengal a few miles south of the Myu river, navigable by vessels weighing between 300 to 400 tons for about 40 miles inland; and (4) the Lemyu river, a significant stream that enters the bay a few miles south of the Koladaing. Further south, because of the proximity of the mountain range that borders Arakan on the east, the rivers are not very significant. These include the Talak and Aeng rivers, which can be navigated by boats, and the Sandoway, Taungup, and Gwa streams, with the Gwa being the only one of real importance, as its mouth serves as a good port or haven for vessels with a draft of 9 to 10 feet. There are several passes over the Yoma mountains, the easiest being the Aeng route, which leads from the village of the same name into Upper Burma. The main crop of the province is rice, along with cotton, tobacco, sugar, hemp, and indigo. The forests yield plenty of excellent oak and teak timber.

The natives of Arakan trace their history as far back as 2666 B.C., and give a lineal succession of 227 native princes down to modern times. According to them, their empire had at one period far wider limits, and extended over Ava, part of China, and a portion of Bengal. This extension of their empire is not, however, corroborated by known facts in history. At different times the Moguls and Pegus carried their arms into the heart of the country. The Portuguese, during the era of their greatness in Asia, gained a temporary establishment in Arakan; but in 1782 the province was finally conquered by the Burmese, from which period until its cession to the British in 1826, under the treaty of Yandaboo, its history forms part of that of Burma. The old city of Arakan, formerly the capital of the province, is situated on an inferior branch of the Koladaing river. Its remoteness from the ports and harbours of the country, combined with the extreme unhealthiness of its situation, have led to its gradual decay subsequently to the formation of the comparatively recent settlement of Akyab, which place is now the chief town of the province. The old city (now Myohaung) lies 50 m. north-east of Akyab. The Maghs, who form nearly the whole population of the province, follow the Buddhist doctrines, which are universally professed throughout Burma. The priests are selected from all classes of men, and one of their chief employments is the education of children. Instruction is consequently widely diffused, and few persons, it is said, can be found in the province who are unable to read. The qualifications for entering into the priestly order are good conduct and a fair measure of learning—such conduct at least as is good according to Buddhist tenets, and such learning as is esteemed among their votaries.

The people of Arakan trace their history back to 2666 BCE and list a continuous line of 227 native princes up to modern times. They claim that their empire once had much larger boundaries, reaching into Ava, parts of China, and a section of Bengal. However, this expansion of their empire isn't supported by known historical facts. Over the years, the Moguls and Pegus invaded the heart of the region. The Portuguese, at the height of their power in Asia, briefly established themselves in Arakan; however, in 1782, the Burmese conquered the province. From that point until it was ceded to the British in 1826 under the treaty of Yandaboo, its history was intertwined with that of Burma. The old city of Arakan, which was once the capital of the province, is located on a lesser branch of the Koladaing river. Its distance from the country's ports and the extremely unhealthy conditions of its location have led to its gradual decline following the establishment of the newer settlement of Akyab, which is now the main town of the province. The old city (now called Myohaung) is situated 50 miles northeast of Akyab. The Maghs, who make up almost the entire population of the province, follow Buddhist teachings, which are widely practiced throughout Burma. Monks are chosen from all walks of life, and one of their main roles is to educate children. As a result, education is widely accessible, and it is said that few people in the province are unable to read. To join the priesthood, individuals must demonstrate good behavior and a decent level of knowledge—good behavior in accordance with Buddhist principles and knowledge that is valued among their followers.

The Arakanese are of Burmese origin, but separated from the parent stock by the Arakan Yoma mountains, and they have a dialect and customs of their own. Though conquered by the Burmese, they have remained distinct from their conquerors.

The Arakanese are originally from Burma, but they are separated from their roots by the Arakan Yoma mountains, and they have their own dialect and customs. Even though they were conquered by the Burmese, they have kept their identity separate from their conquerors.

The Northern Arakan Hill Tracts district is under a superintendent, who is usually a police officer, with headquarters at Paletwa. The area of the Hill Tracts is 5233 sq. m.; pop. (1901) 20,682.

The Northern Arakan Hill Tracts district is managed by a superintendent, who is typically a police officer, with its headquarters in Paletwa. The size of the Hill Tracts is 5,233 square miles; population (1901) 20,682.

(J. G. Sc.)

ARAKCHEEV, ALEKSYEI ANDREEVICH, Count (1769-1834), Russian soldier and statesman, was descended from an ancient family of Great Novgorod. From his mother, Elizabeth Vitlitsaya, he inherited most of his characteristics, an insatiable love of work, an almost pedantic love of order and the most rigorous sense of duty. In 1788 he entered the corps of noble cadets in the artillery and engineering department, where his ability, especially in mathematics, soon attracted attention. In July 1791 he was made an adjutant on the staff of Count N.I. Saltuikov, who (September 1792) recommended him to the cesarevich Paul Petrovich as the artillery officer most capable of reorganizing the army corps maintained by the prince at Gatchina. Arakcheev speedily won the entire confidence of Paul by his scrupulous zeal and undeniable technical ability. His inexorable discipline (magnified into cruelty by later legends) soon made the Gatchina corps a model for the rest of the Russian army. On the accession of Paul to the throne Arakcheev was promptly summoned to St Petersburg, appointed military commandant in the capital, and major-general in the grenadier battalion of the Preobrazhenskoe Guard. On the 12th of December 1796, he received the ribbon of St Anne and a rich estate at Gruzina in the government of Novgorod, the only substantial gift ever accepted by him during the whole of his career. At the coronation (5th of April 1797) Paul created him a baron, and he was subsequently made quartermaster-general and colonel of the whole Preobrazhenskoe Guard. It was to Arakcheev that Paul entrusted the reorganization of the army, which during the latter days of Catherine had fallen into a state of disorder and demoralization. Arakcheev remorselessly applied the iron Gatchina discipline to the whole of the imperial forces, beginning with the Guards. He soon became generally detested by the army, but pursued his course unflinchingly and introduced many indispensable hygienic reforms. “Clean barracks are healthy barracks,” was his motto. Nevertheless, the opposition of the officers proved too strong for him, and on the 18th of March 1798 he was dismissed from all his appointments. Arakcheev’s first disgrace only lasted six months. On the 11th of August he was received back into favour, speedily reinstated in all his former offices, and on the 5th of May 1799 was created a count, the emperor himself selecting the motto: “Devoted, not servile.” Five months later he was again in disgrace, the emperor dismissing him on the strength of a denunciation subsequently proved to be false. It was a fatal step on Paul’s part, for everything goes to prove that he would never have been assassinated had Arakcheev continued by his 316 side. During the earlier years of Alexander, Arakcheev was completely overlooked. Only on the 27th of April 1803, was the count recalled to St Petersburg, and employed as inspector-general of the artillery. His wise and thorough reorganization of the whole department contributed essentially to the victories of the Russians during the Napoleonic wars. All critics agree, indeed, that the Arakcheev administration was the golden era of the Russian artillery. The activity of the inexhaustible inspector knew no bounds, and he neglected nothing which could possibly improve this arm. His principal reforms were the subdivision of the artillery divisions into separate independent units, the formation of artillery brigades, the establishment of a committee of instruction (1808), and the publishing of an Artillery Journal. At Austerlitz he had the satisfaction of witnessing the actual results of his artillery reforms. The commissariat scandals which came to light after the peace of Tilsit convinced the emperor that nothing short of the stern and incorruptible energy of Arakcheev could reach the sources of the evil, and in January 1808 he was appointed inspector-general and war minister. When, on the outbreak of the Swedish war of 1809, the emperor ordered the army to take advantage of an unusually severe frost and cross the ice of the Gulf of Finland, it was only the presence of Arakcheev that compelled an unwilling general and a semi-mutinous army to begin a campaign which ended in the conquest of Finland. On the institution of the “Imperial Council” (1st of January 1810), Arakcheev was made a member of the council of ministers and a senator, while still retaining the war office. Subsequently Alexander was alienated from him owing to the intrigues of the count’s enemies, who hated him for his severity and regarded him as a dangerous reactionary. The alienation was not, however, for long. It is true, Arakcheev took no active part in the war of 1812, but all the correspondence and despatches relating to it passed through his hands, and he was the emperor’s inseparable companion during the whole course of it. At Paris (31st of March 1814) Alexander, with his own hand, wrote the ukaz appointing him a field-marshal, but he refused the dignity, accepting, instead, a miniature portrait of his master. From this time Alexander’s confidence in Arakcheev steadily increased, and the emperor imparted to him, first of all, his many projects of reform, especially his project of military colonies, the carrying out of the details of which was committed to Arakcheev (1824). The failure of the scheme was due not to any fault of the count, but to the inefficiency and insubordination of the district officers. In Alexander’s last years Arakcheev was not merely his chief counsellor, but his dearest friend, to whom he submitted all his projects for consideration and revision. The most interesting of these projects was the plan for the emancipation of the peasantry (1818). On the accession of Nicholas I., Arakcheev, thoroughly broken in health, gradually restricted his immense sphere of activity, and on the 26th of April 1826, resigned all his offices and retired to Carlsbad. The 50,000 roubles presented to him by the emperor as a parting gift he at once handed to the Pavlovsk Institute for the education of the daughters of poor gentlemen. His last days he spent on his estate at Gruzina, carefully collecting all his memorials of Alexander, whose memory he most piously cherished. He also set aside 25,000 roubles for the author of the best biography of his imperial friend. Arakcheev died on the 21st of April 1834, with his eyes fixed to the last on the late emperor’s portrait. “I have now done everything,” he said, “so I can go and make my report to the emperor Alexander.” In 1806 he had married Natalia Khomutova, but they lived apart, and he had no children by her.

ARAKCHEEV, ALEKSYEI ANDREEVICH, Count (1769-1834), Russian soldier and statesman, came from an ancient family in Great Novgorod. He inherited many traits from his mother, Elizabeth Vitlitsaya, including a relentless work ethic, a meticulous appreciation for order, and a strong sense of duty. In 1788, he joined the corps of noble cadets in the artillery and engineering department, where his skills, particularly in mathematics, quickly gained attention. In July 1791, he became an adjutant on the staff of Count N.I. Saltuikov, who (in September 1792) recommended him to the cesarevich Paul Petrovich as the artillery officer most capable of reorganizing the army corps maintained by the prince at Gatchina. Arakcheev quickly earned Paul’s complete trust through his diligent efforts and undeniable technical proficiency. His strict discipline (which later legends exaggerated into cruelty) turned the Gatchina corps into a model for the rest of the Russian army. When Paul ascended to the throne, Arakcheev was quickly summoned to St Petersburg, appointed military commandant of the capital, and made major-general of the grenadier battalion of the Preobrazhenskoe Guard. On December 12, 1796, he was awarded the St Anne ribbon and a valuable estate in Gruzina in the Novgorod region, the only significant gift he accepted throughout his career. At the coronation on April 5, 1797, Paul made him a baron, and he was later promoted to quartermaster-general and colonel of the entire Preobrazhenskoe Guard. Arakcheev was tasked by Paul with reorganizing an army that had become disordered and demoralized during Catherine’s later years. He harshly imposed the stringent Gatchina discipline on all imperial forces, starting with the Guards. He quickly became widely disliked by the army but continued on his path resolutely, introducing many essential hygiene reforms. “Clean barracks are healthy barracks,” was his motto. However, the officers' opposition was too strong, and on March 18, 1798, he was dismissed from all his positions. His first fall from grace lasted only six months. On August 11, he was welcomed back into favor, quickly reinstated in all his previous roles, and on May 5, 1799, he was made a count, with the emperor personally choosing the motto: “Devoted, not servile.” Five months later, he fell out of favor again when the emperor dismissed him based on an allegation that was later proven false. This was a disastrous move by Paul, as evidence suggests he would not have been assassinated if Arakcheev had remained by his side. During Alexander’s early years, Arakcheev was largely ignored. It wasn’t until April 27, 1803, that the count was recalled to St Petersburg and appointed as inspector-general of the artillery. His smart and thorough reorganization of the entire department significantly contributed to Russian victories during the Napoleonic wars. Critics widely agree that the Arakcheev administration marked the golden age of Russian artillery. His unending activity knew no limits, and he overlooked no detail that could improve this branch. His major reforms included subdividing artillery divisions into independent units, forming artillery brigades, establishing a committee for instruction (1808), and publishing an Artillery Journal. At Austerlitz, he witnessed the outcomes of his artillery reforms firsthand. The scandal related to the commissariat that emerged after the peace of Tilsit convinced the emperor that only Arakcheev’s strict and incorruptible approach could address the root of the problems, and in January 1808, he was appointed inspector-general and war minister. When the Swedish war of 1809 broke out, and the emperor instructed the army to take advantage of an unusually fierce freeze to cross the ice of the Gulf of Finland, it was only Arakcheev’s presence that compelled a reluctant general and a nearly mutinous army to start a campaign that ended in the conquest of Finland. When the “Imperial Council” was established on January 1, 1810, Arakcheev was made a member of the council of ministers and a senator while still holding the war office. Later, Alexander grew distant from him due to the intrigues of the count’s opponents, who disliked him for his strictness and considered him a dangerous reactionary. However, this alienation didn’t last long. Arakcheev didn’t actively participate in the war of 1812, but all related correspondence and dispatches went through him, and he was the emperor’s constant companion throughout the entire period. In Paris on March 31, 1814, Alexander personally wrote the ukaz appointing him a field-marshal, which he declined, instead accepting a miniature portrait of the emperor. From that point on, Alexander’s confidence in Arakcheev steadily grew, and the emperor shared with him, first of all, his many reform projects, particularly the plan for military colonies, which Arakcheev was responsible for implementing (1824). The project’s failure was not due to any shortcomings on Arakcheev’s part but rather the incompetence and insubordination of the district officers. In Alexander’s later years, Arakcheev was not only his chief advisor but also his closest friend, to whom he entrusted all his plans for review. One of the most interesting projects was the plan for the emancipation of the peasantry (1818). When Nicholas I ascended the throne, Arakcheev, who was in poor health, gradually scaled back his extensive responsibilities and on April 26, 1826, resigned all his positions and retired to Carlsbad. The 50,000 roubles he received from the emperor as a farewell gift he immediately donated to the Pavlovsk Institute for the education of the daughters of impoverished gentlemen. He spent his final days on his estate in Gruzina, carefully collecting all mementos of Alexander, whose memory he cherished dearly. He also set aside 25,000 roubles for the author of the best biography of his imperial friend. Arakcheev passed away on April 21, 1834, with his gaze fixed on the portrait of the late emperor. “I have now done everything,” he said, “so I can go and report to Emperor Alexander.” In 1806, he married Natalia Khomutova, but they lived separately, and he had no children with her.

See Vasily Ratch, Memorials of Count Arakcheev (Rus.) (St Petersburg, 1864); Mikhail Ivanovich Semevsky, Count Arakcheev and the Military Colonies (Rus.) (St Petersburg, 1871); Theodor Schiemann, Gesch. Russland’s unter Kaiser Nikolaus I., vol. i., Alexander I., &c. (Berlin, 1904).

See Vasily Ratch, Memorials of Count Arakcheev (Rus.) (St Petersburg, 1864); Mikhail Ivanovich Semevsky, Count Arakcheev and the Military Colonies (Rus.) (St Petersburg, 1871); Theodor Schiemann, History of Russia under Emperor Nicholas I., vol. i., Alexander I., etc. (Berlin, 1904).

(R. N. B.)

ARAL, a lake or inland sea in the west of Asia, situated between lat. 43° 30′ and 46° 51′ N., and long. 58° 13′ and 61° 56′ E. It was known to the ancient Arab and Persian geographers as the Sea of Khwārizm or Kharezm, from the neighbouring district of the Chorasmians, and derives its present name from the Kirghiz designation of Aral-denghiz, or Sea of Islands. In virtue of its area (26,233 sq. m.) it is the fourth largest inland sea of the world. It has nearly the same length as width, namely about 170 m., if its northern gulf (Kichkineh-denghiz) is left out of account. Its depth is insignificant, the maximum being 220 ft. in a depression in the north-west, and the mean depth only 50 ft., so that notwithstanding its area it contains only eleven times as much water as the Lake of Geneva. Its altitude is 242½ ft. above the Caspian, i.e. about 155 ft. above the ocean. The lake is surrounded on the north by steppes; on the west by the rocky plateau of Ust-Urt, which separates it from the Caspian; on the south by the alluvial district of Khiva; and on the east by the Kyzyl-kum, or Red Sand Desert. On the north the shores are comparatively low, and the coast-line is broken by a number of irregular bays, of which the most important are those of Sary-chaganak and Paskevich. On the west an almost unbroken wall of rock extends from Chernychev Bay southwards, rising towards the middle to 500 ft. The southern coast is occupied by the delta of the Oxus (Jīhūn, Amu-darya), one of the arms of which, the Laudan, forms a swamp, 80 m. long and 20 broad, before it discharges into the sea. The only other tributary of any size that the sea receives is the Jaxartes (Sihun, Syr-darya) which enters towards the northern extremity of the east coast, and is suspected to be shifting its embouchure more and more to the north. This river, as well as the Amu, conveys vast quantities of sediment into the lake; the delta of the Syr-darya increased by 13¾ sq. m. between 1847 and 1900. The eastern coast is fringed with multitudes of small islands, and other islands, some of considerable size, are situated in the open towards the north and west. Kug-Aral, the largest, lies opposite the mouth of the Syr-darya, cutting off the Kichkineh-denghiz or Little Sea. The next largest island is the Nikolai, nearly in the middle. Navigation is dangerous owing to the frequency and violence of the storms, and the almost total absence of shelter. The north-east wind is the most prevalent, and sometimes blows for months together. The only other craft, except the steamships of the Russians, that venture on the waters, are the flat-bottomed boats of the Kirghiz.

ARAL, is a lake or inland sea located in western Asia, between latitudes 43° 30′ and 46° 51′ N, and longitudes 58° 13′ and 61° 56′ E. It was referred to by ancient Arab and Persian geographers as the Sea of Khwārizm or Kharezm, named after the neighboring region of the Chorasmians, and its current name comes from the Kirghiz term Aral-denghiz, meaning Sea of Islands. With an area of 26,233 square miles, it ranks as the fourth largest inland sea in the world. Its length and width are nearly equal, both about 170 miles, not counting its northern gulf (Kichkineh-denghiz). The lake's depth is shallow, with a maximum depth of 220 feet in a depression in the northwest and an average depth of just 50 feet, meaning it holds only eleven times as much water as Lake Geneva, despite its size. Its elevation is 242½ feet above the Caspian Sea, or about 155 feet above sea level. The lake is bordered by steppes to the north, the rocky plateau of Ust-Urt to the west separating it from the Caspian Sea, the alluvial area of Khiva to the south, and the Kyzyl-kum, or Red Sand Desert, to the east. The northern shores are relatively low and feature a coastline with several irregular bays, the most significant being Sary-chaganak and Paskevich. On the west, a nearly continuous wall of rock extends from Chernychev Bay southward, rising to about 500 feet in the middle. The southern coastline contains the delta of the Oxus (Jīhūn, Amu-darya), one of whose branches, the Laudan, creates a swamp that is 80 miles long and 20 miles wide before it flows into the sea. The only other major tributary is the Jaxartes (Sihun, Syr-darya), which enters at the northern end of the east coast and is believed to be shifting its mouth further north. Both rivers deposit large amounts of sediment into the lake, with the delta of the Syr-darya expanding by 13¾ square miles from 1847 to 1900. The eastern coast is lined with numerous small islands, while larger islands are found in the open waters to the north and west. Kug-Aral, the largest island, is located opposite the mouth of the Syr-darya, effectively cutting off the Kichkineh-denghiz or Little Sea. The second largest is Nikolai, positioned nearly in the center. Navigation is perilous due to the frequency and intensity of storms, along with a lack of shelter. The northeast wind is the most common, sometimes blowing for months at a time. Besides the Russian steamships, the only other vessels that navigate these waters are the flat-bottomed boats used by the Kirghiz.

In regard to the period of the formation of the Aral there were formerly two theories. According to Sir H.C. Rawlinson (Proc. Roy. Geog. Soc., March 1867) the disturbances which produced the present lake took place in the course of the middle ages; while Sir Roderick Murchison contended (Journ. of Roy. Geog. Soc., 1867, p. cxliv. &c.) that the Caspian and Aral existed as separate seas before and during all the historic period, and that the main course of the rivers Jaxartes and Oxus was determined in a prehistoric era. The former based his opinion largely on historical evidence, and the latter trusted principally to geological data. There is no doubt that in recent historical times Lake Aral had a much greater extension than it has at the present time, and that its area is now diminishing. This is, of course, due to the excess of evaporation over the amount of water supplied by its two feeders, the Amu-darya and the Syr-darya, both of which are seriously drawn upon for irrigation in all the oases they flow through. Old shore lines and other indications point to the level of the lake having once been 50 ft. above the existing level. Nevertheless the general desiccation is subject to temporary fluctuations, which appear to correspond to the periods recently suggested by Eduard Brückner (b. 1862); for, whereas the lake diminished and shrank during 1850-1880, since the latter year it has been rising again. Islands which were formerly connected with the shore are now some distance away from it and entirely surrounded by water. Moreover, on a graduated level, put down in 1874, there was a permanent rise of nearly 4 ft. by 1901. The temperature at the bottom was found (1900-1902) by Emil Berg to be 33.8° Fahr., while that of the surface varied from 44.5° to 80.5° between May and September; the mean surface temperature for July was 75°. The salinity of the water is much less than that of the ocean, containing only 1.05% of salt, and the lake freezes every year for a great distance from its shores. The opinion that Lake Aral periodically disappeared, which was for a long 317 time countenanced by Western geographers, loses more and more probability now that it is evident that at a relatively recent period the Caspian Sea extended much farther eastward than it does now, and that Lake Aral communicated with it through the Sary-kamysh depression. The present writer is even inclined to think that, besides this southern communication with the Caspian, Lake Aral may have been, even in historical times, connected with the Mortvyi Kultuk (Tsarevich) Gulf of the Caspian, discharging part of its water into that sea through a depression of the Ust-Urt plateau, which is marked by a chain of lakes (Chumyshty, Asmantai). In this case it might have been easily confounded with a gulf of the Caspian (as by Jenkinson). That the level of Lake Aral was much higher in post-Pliocene times is proved by the discovery of shells of its characteristic species of Pecten and Mytilus in the Kara-kum Desert, 33 m. south of the lake and at an altitude of 70 ft. above its present level, and perhaps even up to 200 ft. (by Syevertsov).

Regarding the formation of the Aral Sea, there used to be two main theories. Sir H.C. Rawlinson (Proc. Roy. Geog. Soc., March 1867) believed that the changes that created the current lake occurred during the Middle Ages, while Sir Roderick Murchison argued (Journ. of Roy. Geog. Soc., 1867, p. cxliv. &c.) that the Caspian and Aral Seas existed as separate bodies before and throughout all of recorded history, and that the main paths of the Jaxartes and Oxus rivers were established in prehistoric times. The former based his view largely on historical records, while the latter relied mainly on geological evidence. It is clear that in more recent history, Lake Aral was much larger than it is today, and its size is now decreasing. This is due to the higher rates of evaporation compared to the water supplied by its main rivers, the Amu-darya and the Syr-darya, both of which are heavily used for irrigation in the oases they pass through. Old shorelines and other signs indicate that the lake's level was once 50 ft. higher than it is now. However, the overall drying out is subject to temporary changes, which seem to align with periods recently proposed by Eduard Brückner (b. 1862); for instance, the lake shrank from 1850 to 1880, but since then it has been rising again. Islands that used to be connected to the shore are now quite far from it and completely surrounded by water. Additionally, a measurement taken in 1874 showed a steady increase of nearly 4 ft. by 1901. The bottom temperature, measured by Emil Berg from 1900 to 1902, was found to be 33.8° F, while surface temperatures ranged from 44.5° to 80.5° between May and September, with an average surface temperature of 75° in July. The salinity of the water is much lower than that of the ocean, containing only 1.05% salt, and the lake freezes each year for a significant distance from its shores. The belief that Lake Aral periodically vanished, once widely accepted by Western geographers, is becoming less likely now that it's clear that at a relatively recent time, the Caspian Sea extended much farther east than it currently does, and that Lake Aral was connected to it through the Sary-kamysh depression. The author is even inclined to think that, in addition to this southern connection with the Caspian, Lake Aral may have also been linked to the Mortvyi Kultuk (Tsarevich) Gulf of the Caspian during historical times, discharging some of its water into that sea through a depression in the Ust-Urt plateau, which features a series of lakes (Chumyshty, Asmantai). In this case, it could easily be confused with a gulf of the Caspian (as noted by Jenkinson). The higher water level of Lake Aral in post-Pliocene times is supported by the discovery of shells of typical species like Pecten and Mytilus in the Kara-kum Desert, located 33 miles south of the lake and at an elevation of 70 ft. above its current level, possibly even up to 200 ft. (according to Syevertsov).

The fish of Lake Aral belong to fresh-water species, and in some of its rapid tributaries the interesting Scaphirhynchus, which represents a survival from the Tertiary epoch, is found. The fishing is very productive, the fish being exported to Turkestan, Merv and Russia. The shores of the lake are uninhabited; the nearest settlements are Kazala, 55 m. east, on the Syr, and Chimbai and Kungrad in the delta of the Amu.

The fish in Lake Aral are freshwater species, and in some of its swift tributaries, you'll find the fascinating Scaphirhynchus, which has survived since the Tertiary period. Fishing here is very productive, with fish being exported to Turkestan, Merv, and Russia. The shores of the lake are uninhabited; the nearest settlements are Kazala, 55 miles east on the Syr, and Chimbai and Kungrad in the Amu delta.

Authorities.—Makshéev’s “Description of Lake Aral,” and Kaulbars’ “Delta of the Amu,” in Zapiski of Russ. Geogr. Soc., 1st series, v., and new series, ix.; Grimm’s Studies of the Aral-Caspian Expedition; Nikolsky’s “Fishing in Lake Aral,” in Izvestia, Russ. Geogr. Soc., 1887; Prof. Mushketov, Turkestan, vol. i. (1886), which contains bibliographical references; Rösler, Die Aralseefrage (1873); Wood, The Shores of the Aral Lake (1876); and Berg in Izvestia, Turkestan Branch of Russian Geog. Soc. (vol. iii., Tashkent, 1902).

Authorities.—Makshéev’s “Description of Lake Aral,” and Kaulbars’ “Delta of the Amu,” in Zapiski of Russ. Geogr. Soc., 1st series, v., and new series, ix.; Grimm’s Studies of the Aral-Caspian Expedition; Nikolsky’s “Fishing in Lake Aral,” in Izvestia, Russ. Geogr. Soc., 1887; Prof. Mushketov, Turkestan, vol. i. (1886), which includes bibliographical references; Rösler, Die Aralseefrage (1873); Wood, The Shores of the Aral Lake (1876); and Berg in Izvestia, Turkestan Branch of Russian Geog. Soc. (vol. iii., Tashkent, 1902).

(P. A. K.)




        
        
    
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