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THE ENCYCLOPÆDIA BRITANNICA

A DICTIONARY OF ARTS, SCIENCES, LITERATURE AND GENERAL INFORMATION

ELEVENTH EDITION

 

VOLUME XIV SLICE III

Ichthyology to Independence


 

Articles in This Slice

Articles in This Section

ICHTHYOLOGY ILLUSTRES
ICHTHYOPHAGI ILLYRIA
ICHTHYOSAURUS ILMENAU
ICHTHYOSIS ILMENITE
ICKNIELD STREET ILOILO
ICON ILSENBURG
ICONIUM IMAGE
ICONOCLASTS IMAGE WORSHIP
ICONOSTASIS IMAGINATION
ICOSAHEDRON IMĀM
ICTERUS IMBECILE
ICTINUS IMBREX
IDA IMBROS
IDAHO IMERETIA
IDAR IMIDAZOLES
IDAS IMITATION
IDDESLEIGH, STAFFORD HENRY NORTHCOTE IMITATION OF CHRIST, THE
IDEA IMMACULATE CONCEPTION, THE
IDEALISM IMMANENCE
IDELER, CHRISTIAN LUDWIG IMMANUEL BEN SOLOMON
IDENTIFICATION IMMERMANN, KARL LEBERECHT
IDEOGRAPH IMMERSION
IDIOBLAST IMMIGRATION
IDIOM IMMORTALITY
IDIOSYNCRASY IMMUNITY
IDOLATRY IMOLA
IDOMENEUS IMP
IDRIA IMPATIENS
IDRIALIN IMPEACHMENT
IDRISI IMPERIAL CHAMBER
IDUMAEA IMPERIAL CITIES OR TOWNS
IDUN IMPEY, SIR ELIJAH
IDYL IMPHAL
IFFLAND, AUGUST WILHELM IMPLEMENT
IGLAU IMPLUVIUM
IGLESIAS IMPOSITION
IGNATIEV, NICHOLAS PAVLOVICH IMPOST
IGNATIUS IMPOTENCE
IGNORAMUS IMPRESSIONISM
IGNORANCE IMPRESSMENT
IGNORANTINES IMPROMPTU
IGUALADA IMPROVISATORE
IGUANA IN-ANTIS
IGUANODON INAUDI, JACQUES
IGUVIUM INCANTATION
IJOLITE INCE, WILLIAM
IKI INCE-IN-MAKERFIELD
ILAGAN INCENDIARISM
ILCHESTER INCENSE
ÎLE-DE-FRANCE INCEST
ILETSK INCH
ILFELD INCHBALD, MRS ELIZABETH
ILFORD INCHIQUIN, MURROUGH O’BRIEN
ILFRACOMBE INCLEDON, CHARLES BENJAMIN
ILHAVO INCLINOMETER
ILI INCLOSURE
ILION IN COENA DOMINI
ILKESTON INCOME TAX
ILKLEY INCORPORATION
ILL INCUBATION and INCUBATORS
ILLAWARRA INCUBUS
ILLE-ET-VILAINE INCUMBENT
ILLEGITIMACY INCUNABULA
ILLER INDABA
ILLINOIS INDAZOLES
ILLORIN INDEMNITY
ILLUMINATED MSS. INDENE
ILLUMINATI INDENTURE
ILLUMINATION INDEPENDENCE
ILLUSTRATION  

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ICHTHYOLOGY (from Gr. ἰχθύς, fish, and λόγος, doctrine or treatise), the branch of zoology which treats of the internal and external structure of fishes, their mode of life, and their distribution in space and time. According to the views now generally adopted, all those vertebrate animals are referred to the class of fishes which combine the following characteristics: they live in water, and by means of gills or branchiae breathe air dissolved in water; the heart consists of a single ventricle and single atrium; the limbs, if present, are modified into fins, supplemented by unpaired median fins; and the skin is either naked or covered with scales or with osseous plates or bucklers. With few exceptions fishes are oviparous. There are, however, not a few members of this class which show a modification of one or more of these characteristics, and which, nevertheless, cannot be separated from it.

ICHTHYOLOGY (from Gr. fish, fish, and word, study), is the branch of zoology that focuses on the internal and external structure of fish, their way of life, and their distribution over time and space. According to the views that are now widely accepted, all vertebrate animals classified as fish share the following traits: they live in water and breathe air dissolved in it through gills; their heart has a single ventricle and atrium; if they have limbs, those are adapted into fins, along with unpaired median fins; and their skin is either bare or covered in scales, bony plates, or shields. With few exceptions, fish are oviparous. However, there are several members of this class that exhibit variations of one or more of these traits and still cannot be classified outside of it.

I. History and Literature down to 1880

I. History and Literature up to 1880

The commencement of the history of ichthyology coincides with that of zoology generally. Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) had a perfect knowledge of the general structure of fishes, which he clearly discriminates both from the aquatic animals with lungs and mammae, i.e. Cetaceans, and from the various groups of aquatic invertebrates. According to him: “the special characteristics of the true fishes consist in the branchiae and fins, the majority having four fins, but those of an elongate form, as the eels, having two only. Some, as the Muraena, lack the fins altogether. The rays swim with their whole body, which is spread out. The branchiae are sometimes furnished with an operculum, sometimes they are without one, as in the cartilaginous fishes.... No fish has hairs or feathers; most are covered with scales, but some have only a rough or a smooth skin. The tongue is hard, often toothed, and sometimes so much adherent that it seems to be wanting. The eyes have no lids, nor are any ears or nostrils visible, for what takes the place of nostrils is a blind cavity; nevertheless they have the senses of tasting, smelling and hearing. All have blood. All scaly fishes are oviparous, but the cartilaginous fishes (with the exception of the sea-devil, which Aristotle places along with them) are viviparous. All have a heart, liver and gall-bladder; but kidneys and urinary bladder are absent. They vary much in the structure of their intestines: for, whilst the mullet has a fleshy stomach like a bird, others have no stomachic dilatation. Pyloric caeca are close to the stomach, and vary in number; there are even some, like the majority of the cartilaginous fishes, which have none whatever. Two bodies are situated along the spine, which have the function of testicles; they open towards the vent, and are much enlarged in the spawning season. The scales become harder with age. Not being provided with lungs, fishes have no voice, but several can emit grunting sounds. They sleep like other animals. In most cases the females exceed the males in size; and in the rays and sharks the male is distinguished by an appendage on each side of the vent.”

The history of ichthyology starts at the same time as zoology. Aristotle (384-322 BCE) understood the general structure of fish very well, clearly distinguishing them from aquatic animals with lungs and mammary glands, like cetaceans, and from different groups of aquatic invertebrates. He stated: “The unique features of true fish include gills and fins; most have four fins, but elongated ones, like eels, only have two. Some, like the Muraena, don't have any fins at all. Rays swim by moving their entire body, which is spread out. Sometimes gills have an operculum, and sometimes they don’t, like in cartilaginous fish.... No fish has hair or feathers; most are covered in scales, but some have either rough or smooth skin. The tongue is tough, often with teeth, and sometimes it's so attached that it seems to be missing. The eyes don’t have lids, and there are no visible ears or nostrils; what serves as nostrils is a blind cavity; however, they can taste, smell, and hear. All have blood. All scaly fish lay eggs, but the cartilaginous fish (except for the sea-devil, which Aristotle includes with them) give birth to live young. All have a heart, liver, and gallbladder, but they lack kidneys and a urinary bladder. Their intestines are very different in structure; for instance, while the mullet has a fleshy stomach like a bird, others aren't expanded that way. Pyloric caeca are located near the stomach and vary in number; some, like most cartilaginous fish, don’t have any at all. Two organs along the spine function as testicles; they open towards the vent and enlarge during breeding season. The scales become tougher as they age. Because they don’t have lungs, fish cannot make sounds, but some can grunt. They sleep like other animals. Most of the time, females are larger than males, and in rays and sharks, males are identified by appendages on either side of the vent.”

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Aristotle’s information on the habits of fishes, their migrations, mode and time of propagation, and economic uses is, so far as it has been tested, surprisingly correct. Unfortunately, we too often lack the means of recognizing the species of which he gives a description. His ideas of specific distinction were as vague as those of the fishermen whose nomenclature he adopted; it never occurred to him that vernacular names are subject to change, or may be entirely lost in course of time, and the difficulty of identifying his species is further increased by the circumstance that sometimes several popular names are applied by him to the same fish, or different stages of growth are designated by distinct names. The number of fishes known to Aristotle seems to have been about one hundred and fifteen, all of which are inhabitants of the Aegean Sea.

Aristotle’s insights into fish habits, their migrations, breeding times, and economic uses are surprisingly accurate, based on what has been tested. Unfortunately, we often lack the means to identify the species he describes. His concepts of specific distinctions were as unclear as those of the fishermen whose names he used; he never realized that common names can change or might be entirely lost over time. This makes it even harder to identify the species he mentioned, especially since he sometimes applied multiple names to the same fish or used different names for various growth stages. The number of fish that Aristotle seemed to know was about one hundred and fifteen, all of which inhabit the Aegean Sea.

That one man should have laid so sure a basis for future progress in zoology is less surprising than that for about eighteen centuries a science which seemed to offer particular attractions to men gifted with power of observation was no further advanced. Yet such is the case. Aristotle’s successors remained satisfied to be his copiers or commentators, and to collect fabulous stories or vague notions. With few exceptions (such as Ausonius, who wrote a small poem, in which he describes from his own observations the fishes of the Moselle) authors abstained from original research; and it was not until about the middle of the 16th century that ichthyology made a new step in advance by the appearance of Belon, Rondelet and Salviani, who almost simultaneously published their great works, by which the idea of species was established.

That one person could establish such a solid foundation for future advancements in zoology is less surprising than the fact that for about eighteen centuries, a science that seemed particularly appealing to people with strong observational skills made little progress. But that’s exactly what happened. Aristotle’s followers were content to simply copy or comment on his work and gather fantastical tales or unclear ideas. With a few exceptions (like Ausonius, who wrote a short poem based on his own observations of the fish in the Moselle), authors generally avoided original research. It wasn’t until around the mid-16th century that ichthyology took a significant step forward with the emergence of Belon, Rondelet, and Salviani, who almost simultaneously published their major works that established the concept of species.

P. Belon travelled in the countries bordering on the eastern part of the Mediterranean in the years 1547-1550; he collected rich stores of positive knowledge, which he embodied in several works. The one most important for the Belon. progress of ichthyology is that entitled De aquatilibus libri duo (Paris, 1553). Belon knew about one hundred and ten fishes, of which he gives rude but generally recognizable figures. Although Belon rarely gives definitions of the terms used by him, it is not generally very difficult to ascertain the limits which he intended to assign to each division of aquatic animals. He very properly divides them into such as are provided with blood and those without it—two divisions corresponding in modern language to vertebrate and invertebrate aquatic animals. The former are classified by him according to size, the further sub-divisions being based on the structure of the skeleton, mode of propagation, number of limbs, form of the body and physical character of the habitat.

P. Belon traveled through the countries along the eastern Mediterranean from 1547 to 1550; he gathered a wealth of knowledge, which he put into several works. The one most significant for the advancement of ichthyology is titled De aquatilibus libri duo (Paris, 1553). Belon identified about one hundred and ten fish species, providing rough but generally recognizable illustrations. Although Belon seldom defines the terms he uses, it's usually not too hard to figure out the categories he intended for each type of aquatic animal. He rightly divides them into those with blood and those without it—two groups that in modern terms would correspond to vertebrate and invertebrate aquatic animals. He classifies the former by size, and the further subdivisions are based on skeleton structure, method of reproduction, number of limbs, body shape, and the physical characteristics of their habitat.

The work of the Roman ichthyologist H. Salviani (1514-1572), bears evidence of the high social position which the author held as physician to three popes. Its title is Aquatilium animalium historia (Rome, 1554-1557, fol.). It treats Salviani. exclusively of the fishes of Italy. Ninety-two species are figured on seventy-six plates, which, as regards artistic execution, are masterpieces of that period, although those specific characteristics which nowadays constitute the value of a zoological drawing were overlooked by the author or artist. No attempt is made at a natural classification, but the allied forms are generally placed in close proximity. The descriptions are equal to those given by Belon, entering much into the details of the economy and uses of the several species, and were evidently composed with the view of collecting in a readable form all that might prove of interest to the class of society in which the author moved. Salviani’s work is of a high order. It could not fail to render ichthyology popular in the country to the fauna of which it was devoted, but it was not fitted to advance ichthyology as a science generally; in this respect Salviani is not to be compared with Rondelet or Belon.

The work of the Roman ichthyologist H. Salviani (1514-1572) shows the high social status he had as a physician to three popes. Its title is Aquatilium animalium historia (Rome, 1554-1557, fol.). It focuses solely on the fish of Italy. Ninety-two species are illustrated on seventy-six plates, which, in terms of artistic quality, are masterpieces of that era, although the specific traits that we now see as important in a zoological drawing were overlooked by the author or artist. There’s no effort to categorize them naturally, but related forms are generally placed nearby. The descriptions are comparable to those by Belon, delving into the details of the ecology and uses of the various species, and were clearly written to engage the social class in which the author was involved. Salviani’s work is of a high standard. It undoubtedly helped make ichthyology popular in the country whose fauna it covered, but it wasn’t designed to advance ichthyology as a scientific discipline overall; in this regard, Salviani can’t be compared to Rondelet or Belon.

G. Rondelet (1507-1557) had the great advantage over Belon of having received a medical education at Paris, and especially of having gone through a complete course of instruction in anatomy as a pupil of Guentherus of Andernach. Rondelet. This is conspicuous throughout his works—Libri de piscibus marinis (Lyons, 1554); and Universae aquatilium historiae pars altera (Lyons, 1555). Nevertheless they cannot be regarded as more than considerably enlarged editions of Belon’s work. For, although he worked independently of the latter, the system adopted by him is characterized by the same absence of the true principles of classification. His work is almost entirely limited to European and chiefly to Mediterranean forms, and comprises no fewer than one hundred and ninety-seven marine and forty-seven fresh-water fishes. His descriptions are more complete and his figures much more accurate than those of Belon; and the specific account is preceded by introductory chapters, in which he treats in a general manner of the distinctions, the external and internal parts, and the economy of fishes. Like Belon, he had no conception of the various categories of classification—confounding throughout his work the terms “genus” and “species,” but he had an intuitive notion of what his successors called a “species,” and his principal object was to give as much information as possible regarding such species.

G. Rondelet (1507-1557) had a significant advantage over Belon because he received his medical education in Paris and completed a full anatomy course as a student of Guentherus of Andernach. Rondelet. This is evident throughout his works—Libri de piscibus marinis (Lyons, 1554); and Universae aquatilium historiae pars altera (Lyons, 1555). However, these works are essentially much larger editions of Belon’s work. While he worked independently from Belon, the system he used showed the same lack of true principles of classification. His work mainly focuses on European and primarily Mediterranean species, covering a total of one hundred ninety-seven marine species and forty-seven freshwater species. His descriptions are more detailed, and his illustrations are much more accurate than Belon’s; and the specific accounts are prefaced by introductory chapters, where he generally discusses the differences, external and internal parts, and the biology of fishes. Like Belon, he didn’t understand the different categories of classification, often mixing up the terms “genus” and “species,” but he did have an instinctive sense of what modern successors would call a “species,” and his main goal was to provide as much information as possible about those species.

For nearly a century the works of Belon and Rondelet continued to be the standard works on ichthyology; but the science did not remain stationary during that period. The attention of naturalists was now directed to the fauna of foreign countries, especially of the Spanish and Dutch possessions in the New World; and in Europe the establishment of anatomical schools and academies led to careful investigation of the internal anatomy of the most remarkable European forms. Limited as these efforts were as to their scope, they were sufficiently numerous to enlarge the views of naturalists, and to destroy that fatal dependence on preceding authorities which had kept in bonds even Rondelet and Belon. The most noteworthy of those engaged in these inquiries in tropical countries were W. Piso and G. Marcgrave, who accompanied as physicians the Dutch governor, Count Maurice of Nassau, to Brazil (1630-1644).

For almost a hundred years, the works of Belon and Rondelet remained the go-to references on fish science; however, the field was not stagnant during that time. Naturalists began focusing on the wildlife of other countries, especially the Spanish and Dutch territories in the New World. In Europe, the rise of anatomical schools and academies led to thorough studies of the internal anatomy of the most notable European species. Although these efforts had limited scope, they were numerous enough to broaden naturalists' perspectives and break the unhealthy reliance on earlier authorities that had constrained even Rondelet and Belon. The most prominent figures in these studies of tropical regions were W. Piso and G. Marcgrave, who served as physicians to the Dutch governor, Count Maurice of Nassau, in Brazil (1630-1644).

Of the men who left records of their anatomical researches, we may mention Borelli (1608-1679), who wrote a work De motu animalium (Rome, 1680, 4to), in which he explained the mechanism of swimming and the function of the air-bladder; M. Malpighi (1628-1694), who examined the optic nerve of the sword-fish; the celebrated J. Swammerdam (1637-1680), who described the intestines of numerous fishes; and J. Duverney (1648-1730), who investigated in detail the organs of respiration.

Of the men who documented their studies of anatomy, we can mention Borelli (1608-1679), who wrote a work De motu animalium (Rome, 1680, 4to), where he explained how swimming works and the role of the air bladder; M. Malpighi (1628-1694), who studied the optic nerve of the swordfish; the famous J. Swammerdam (1637-1680), who described the intestines of various fish; and J. Duverney (1648-1730), who thoroughly investigated the respiratory organs.

A new era in the history of ichthyology commences with Ray, Willughby and Artedi, who were the first to recognize the true principles by which the natural affinities of animals should be determined. Their labours stand in so intimate a connexion with each other that they represent but one great step in the progress of this science.

A new era in the history of ichthyology begins with Ray, Willughby, and Artedi, who were the first to understand the true principles for determining the natural relationships of animals. Their work is so closely connected that it represents a single significant advancement in the development of this science.

J. Ray (1628-1705) was the friend and guide of F. Willughby (1635-1672). They found that a thorough reform in the method of treating the vegetable and animal kingdoms had become necessary; that the only way of bringing Ray and Willughby. order into the existing chaos was by arranging the various forms according to their structure. They therefore substituted facts for speculation, and one of the first results of this change, perhaps the most important, was that, having recognized “species” as such, they defined the term and fixed it as the starting-point of all sound zoological knowledge.

J. Ray (1628-1705) was the friend and mentor of F. Willughby (1635-1672). They realized that a complete overhaul in how the plant and animal kingdoms were studied was essential; the only way to bring order to the current chaos was by organizing the different forms based on their structure. They replaced speculation with hard facts, and one of the first, and possibly the most significant, outcomes of this shift was their identification of "species" as a concept. They defined the term and established it as the foundation for all solid zoological knowledge.

Although they had divided their work so that Ray attended to the plants principally, and Willughby to the animals, the Historia piscium (Oxf., 1686), which bears Willughby’s name on the title-page and was edited by Ray, is their joint production. A great part of the observations contained in it were collected during the journeys they made together in Great Britain and in the various countries of Europe.

Although they split their tasks so that Ray focused mainly on the plants and Willughby on the animals, the Historia piscium (Oxf., 1686), which features Willughby’s name on the cover and was edited by Ray, is a collaborative effort. Many of the observations included in it were gathered during their travels together in Great Britain and across various countries in Europe.

By the definition of fishes as animals with blood, breathing by gills, provided with a single ventricle of the heart, and either covered with scales or naked, the Cetaceans are excluded. The fishes proper are arranged primarily according to the cartilaginous or the osseous nature of the skeleton, and then subdivided according to the general form of the body, the presence or the absence of ventral fins, the soft or the spinous structure of the dorsal rays, the number of dorsal fins, &c. No fewer than four hundred and twenty species are thus arranged and described, of which about one hundred and eighty were known to the 245 authors from personal examination—a comparatively small proportion, but descriptions and figures still formed in great measure the substitute for our modern collections and museums. With the increasing accumulation of forms, the want of a fixed nomenclature had become more and more felt.

By defining fish as animals with blood, breathing through gills, having a single ventricle in their heart, and either covered in scales or bare, Cetaceans are excluded. True fish are mainly classified based on whether their skeletons are cartilaginous or bony, and then further divided according to their body shape, presence or absence of ventral fins, type of dorsal rays (soft or spiny), number of dorsal fins, etc. At least four hundred and twenty species are arranged and described this way, with about one hundred and eighty being known to the authors from personal observation—a relatively small percentage, but descriptions and illustrations largely served as a substitute for our modern collections and museums. As the number of forms increased, the need for a consistent naming system became more pressing.

Peter Artedi (1705-1734) would have been a great ichthyologist if Ray or Willughby had not preceded him. But he was fully Artedi. conscious of the fact that both had prepared the way for him, and therefore he did not fail to reap every possible advantage from their labours. His work, edited by Linnaeus, is divided as follows:—

Peter Artedi (1705-1734) would have been an amazing fish scientist if Ray or Willughby hadn’t come before him. But he was completely aware that both had cleared the path for him, so he made sure to take full advantage of their work. His research, edited by Linnaeus, is organized as follows:—

(1) In the Bibliotheca ichthyologica Artedi gives a very complete list of all preceding authors who had written on fishes, with a critical analysis of their works. (2) The Philosophia ichthyologica is devoted to a description of the external and internal parts of fishes; Artedi fixes a precise terminology for all the various modifications of the organs, distinguishing between those characters which determine a genus and such as indicate a species or merely a variety; in fact he establishes the method and principles which subsequently have guided every systematic ichthyologist. (3) The Genera piscium contains well-defined diagnoses of forty-five genera, for which he has fixed an unchangeable nomenclature. (4) In the Species piscium descriptions of seventy-two species, examined by himself, are given—descriptions which even now are models of exactitude and method. (5) Finally, in the Synonymia piscium references to all previous authors are arranged for every species, very much in the manner which is adopted in the systematic works of the present day.

(1) In the Bibliotheca ichthyologica, Artedi provides a thorough list of all the previous authors who wrote about fish, along with a critical analysis of their works. (2) The Philosophia ichthyologica focuses on describing the external and internal parts of fish; Artedi establishes a clear terminology for the various modifications of the organs, distinguishing between the features that define a genus and those that indicate a species or just a variety. In fact, he lays down the methods and principles that have guided every systematic ichthyologist since then. (3) The Genera piscium includes well-defined descriptions of forty-five genera, for which he has established a stable nomenclature. (4) In the Species piscium, descriptions of seventy-two species that he examined are provided—descriptions that remain models of accuracy and organization. (5) Finally, in the Synonymia piscium, references to all previous authors are organized for each species, much like the approach taken in modern systematic works.

Artedi has been justly called the father of ichthyology. So admirable was his treatment of the subject, that even Linnaeus Linnaeus. could only modify and add to it. Indeed, so far as ichthyology is concerned, Linnaeus has scarcely done anything beyond applying binominal terms to the species properly described and classified by Artedi. His classification of the genera appears in the 12th edition of the Systema thus:—

Artedi has rightly been called the father of ichthyology. His approach to the subject was so impressive that even Linnaeus Linnaeus. could only make adjustments and additions. In fact, when it comes to ichthyology, Linnaeus hardly contributed anything beyond using binomial names for the species that Artedi had already accurately described and classified. His classification of the genera appears in the 12th edition of the Systema as follows:—

A. Amphibia nantia.Spiraculis compositis.—Petromyzon, Raía, Squalus, Chimaera. Spiraculis solitariis.—Lophius, Acipenser, Cyclopterus, Balistes, Ostracion, Tetrodon, Diodon, Centriscus, Syngnathus, Pegasus.

A. Amphibia nantia.Spiraculis compositis.—Petromyzon, Raía, Squalus, Chimaera. Spiraculis solitariis.—Lophius, Acipenser, Cyclopterus, Balistes, Ostracion, Tetrodon, Diodon, Centriscus, Syngnathus, Pegasus.

B. Pisces apodes.—Muraena, Gymnotus, Trichiurus, Anarrhichas, Ammodytes, Ophidium, Stromateus, Xiphias.

B. Pisces apodes.—Muraena, Gymnotus, Trichiurus, Anarrhichas, Ammodytes, Ophidium, Stromateus, Xiphias.

C. Pisces jugulares.—Callionymus, Uranoscopus, Trachinus, Gadus, Blennius.

C. Pisces jugulares.—Callionymus, Uranoscopus, Trachinus, Gadus, Blennius.

D. Pisces thoracici.—Cepola, Echeneis, Coryphaena, Gobius, Cottus, Scorpaena, Zeus, Pleuronectes, Chaetodon, Sparus, Labrus, Sciaena, Perca, Gasterosteus, Scomber, Mullus, Trigla.

D. Pisces thoracici.—Cepola, Echeneis, Coryphaena, Gobius, Cottus, Scorpaena, Zeus, Pleuronectes, Chaetodon, Sparus, Labrus, Sciaena, Perca, Gasterosteus, Scomber, Mullus, Trigla.

E. Pisces abdominales.—Cobitis, Amia, Silurus, Teuthis, Loricaria, Salmo, Fistularia, Esox, Elops, Argentina, Atherina, Mugil, Mormyrus, Exocoetus, Polynemus, Clupea, Cyprinus.

E. Pisces abdominales.—Cobitis, Amia, Silurus, Teuthis, Loricaria, Salmo, Fistularia, Esox, Elops, Argentina, Atherina, Mugil, Mormyrus, Exocoetus, Polynemus, Clupea, Cyprinus.

Two contemporaries of Linnaeus, L. T. Gronow and J. T. Klein, attempted a systematic arrangement of fishes.

Two contemporaries of Linnaeus, L. T. Gronow and J. T. Klein, tried to create a systematic classification of fish.

The works of Artedi and Linnaeus led to an activity of research, especially in Scandinavia, Holland, Germany and England, such as has never been equalled in the history of biological science. Whilst some of the pupils and followers of Linnaeus devoted themselves to the examination and study of the fauna of their native countries, others proceeded on voyages of discovery to foreign and distant lands. Of these latter the following may be especially mentioned: O. Fabricius worked out the fauna of Greenland; Peter Kalm collected in North America, F. Hasselquist in Egypt and Palestine, M. T. Brünnich in the Mediterranean, Osbeck in Java and China, K. P. Thunberg in Japan; Forskål examined and described the fishes of the Red Sea; G. W. Steller, P. S. Pallas, S. G. Gmelin, and A. J. Güldenstädt traversed nearly the whole of the Russian empire in Europe and Asia. Others attached themselves as naturalists to celebrated navigators, such as the two Forsters (father and son) and Solander, who accompanied Cook; P. Commerson, who travelled with Bougainville; and Pierre Sonnerat. Of those who studied the fishes of their native countries, the most celebrated were Pennant (Great Britain), O. F. Müller (Denmark), Duhamel du Monceau (France), C. von Meidinger (Austria), J. Cornide (Spain), and A. Parra (Cuba).

The works of Artedi and Linnaeus sparked a surge of research, particularly in Scandinavia, Holland, Germany, and England, unlike anything seen before in the history of biological science. While some of Linnaeus's students focused on studying the wildlife in their own countries, others embarked on voyages of discovery to far-off lands. Notable among these explorers are: O. Fabricius, who investigated the fauna of Greenland; Peter Kalm, who collected specimens in North America; F. Hasselquist, who explored Egypt and Palestine; M. T. Brünnich, who worked in the Mediterranean; Osbeck, who traveled to Java and China; K. P. Thunberg, who went to Japan; Forskål, who studied and described the fishes of the Red Sea; and G. W. Steller, P. S. Pallas, S. G. Gmelin, and A. J. Güldenstädt, who traveled through much of the Russian empire in both Europe and Asia. Others joined well-known navigators as naturalists, including the two Forsters (father and son) and Solander, who sailed with Cook; P. Commerson, who accompanied Bougainville; and Pierre Sonnerat. Among those who researched the fish of their home countries, the most notable were Pennant (Great Britain), O. F. Müller (Denmark), Duhamel du Monceau (France), C. von Meidinger (Austria), J. Cornide (Spain), and A. Parra (Cuba).

The mass of materials brought together was so great that, not long after the death of Linnaeus, the necessity made itself felt for collecting them in a compendious form. Several compilers undertook this task; they embodied the recent discoveries in new editions of the classical works of Artedi and Linnaeus, but, they only succeeded in burying those noble monuments under a chaotic mass of rubbish. For ichthyology it was fortunate that two men at least, Bloch and Lacepède, made it a subject of prolonged original research.

The amount of materials gathered was so vast that, soon after Linnaeus passed away, the need was clear for organizing them into a concise format. Several editors took on this challenge; they included the latest discoveries in new editions of the classic works by Artedi and Linnaeus, but they only managed to bury those valuable texts under a disordered heap of junk. Fortunately for ichthyology, at least two individuals, Bloch and Lacepède, focused on it as a subject of in-depth original research.

Mark Eliezer Bloch (1723-1799), a physician of Berlin, had reached the age of fifty-six when he began to write on ichthyological subjects. His work consists of two divisions:— (1) Öconomische Naturgeschichte der Fische Deutschlands Bloch. (Berl., 1782-1784); (2) Naturgeschichte der ausländischen Fische (Berl., 1785-1795). The first division, which is devoted to a description of the fishes of Germany, is entirely original. His descriptions as well as figures were made from nature, and are, with few exceptions, still serviceable; indeed many continue to be the best existing in literature. Bloch was less fortunate, and is much less trustworthy, in his natural history of foreign fishes. For many of the species he had to trust to more or less incorrect drawings and descriptions by travellers; frequently, also, he was deceived as to the origin of specimens which he purchased. Hence his accounts contain numerous errors, which it would have been difficult to correct had not nearly the whole of the materials on which his work is based been preserved in the collections at Berlin.

Mark Eliezer Bloch (1723-1799), a physician from Berlin, was fifty-six years old when he started writing about fish. His work is divided into two parts: (1) Öconomische Naturgeschichte der Fische Deutschlands Bloch. (Berlin, 1782-1784); (2) Naturgeschichte der ausländischen Fische (Berlin, 1785-1795). The first part, which focuses on the fish of Germany, is entirely original. His descriptions and illustrations were made directly from nature and, with few exceptions, are still useful today; in fact, many remain the best available in literature. Bloch had less success and is much less reliable in his account of foreign fish. For many species, he had to rely on mostly inaccurate drawings and descriptions from travelers; he was often misled about the origin of specimens he bought. As a result, his accounts contain many errors, which would have been hard to correct if not for the preservation of most of the materials his work is based on in the collections at Berlin.

After the completion of his great work Bloch prepared a general system of fishes, in which he arranged not only those previously described, but also those with which he had afterwards become acquainted. The work was ably edited and published after Bloch’s death by a philologist, J. G. Schneider, under the title M. E. Blochii Systema ichthyologiae iconibus cx. illustratum (Berl., 1801). The number of species enumerated amounts to 1519. The system is based upon the number of the fins, the various orders being termed Hendecapterygii, Decapterygii, &c. An artificial method like this led to the most unnatural combinations and distinctions.

After finishing his major work, Bloch created a comprehensive classification of fish, including not only those he had previously described but also new species he had encountered later. The work was skillfully edited and published posthumously by the philologist J. G. Schneider, titled M. E. Blochii Systema ichthyologiae iconibus cx. illustratum (Berl., 1801). The total number of species listed is 1519. This system is organized based on the number of fins, with different groups labeled as Hendecapterygii, Decapterygii, etc. Such an artificial system resulted in the most unnatural combinations and distinctions.

Bloch’s Naturgeschichte remained for many years the standard work. But as regards originality of thought Bloch was far surpassed by his contemporary, B. G. E. de Lacepède, born at Agen, in France, in 1756, who became professor at the museum of natural history in Paris, where he died in 1825.

Bloch’s Naturgeschichte was the standard work for many years. However, in terms of original ideas, Bloch was greatly outshined by his contemporary, B. G. E. de Lacepède, who was born in Agen, France, in 1756. He became a professor at the natural history museum in Paris, where he passed away in 1825.

Lacepède had to contend with great difficulties in the preparations of his Histoire des poissons (Paris, 1798-1803, 5 vols.), which was written during the most disturbed period of the French Revolution. A great part of it was Lacepède. composed whilst the author was separated from collections and books, and had to rely on his notes and manuscripts only. Even the works of Bloch and other contemporaneous authors remained unknown or inaccessible to him for a long time. His work, therefore, abounds in the kind of errors into which a compiler is liable to fall. Thus the influence of Lacepède on the progress of ichthyology was vastly less than that of his fellow-labourer; and the labour laid on his successors in correcting numerous errors probably outweighed the assistance which they derived from his work.

Lacepède faced significant challenges in preparing his Histoire des poissons (Paris, 1798-1803, 5 vols.) during one of the most turbulent times of the French Revolution. Much of it was written while he was away from his collections and books, relying solely on his notes and manuscripts. Additionally, the works of Bloch and other contemporary authors were largely unknown or unavailable to him for an extended period. As a result, his work is filled with the types of mistakes that can occur when compiling information. Consequently, Lacepède's impact on the advancement of ichthyology was much less than that of his collaborators, and the effort required by his successors to correct numerous errors likely outweighed the benefits they gained from his work.

The work of the principal students of ichthyology in the period between Ray and Lacepède was chiefly systematizing and describing; but the internal organization of fishes also received attention from more than one great anatomist. Albrecht von Haller, Peter Camper and John Hunter examined the nervous system and the organs of sense; and Alexander Monro, secundus, published a classical work, The Structure and Physiology of Fishes Explained and Compared with those of Man and other Animals (Edin., 1785). The electric organs of fishes (Torpedo and Gymnotus) were examined by Réaumur, J. N. S. Allamand, E. Bancroft, John Walsh, and still more exactly by J. Hunter. The mystery of the propagation of the eel called forth a large number of essays, and even the artificial propagation of Salmonidae was known and practised by J. G. Gleditsch (1764).

The work of the main students of fish science between Ray and Lacepède was mainly about organizing and describing fish species; however, several prominent anatomists also focused on the internal structure of fishes. Albrecht von Haller, Peter Camper, and John Hunter studied the nervous system and sensory organs, while Alexander Monro, secundus, published a significant work titled The Structure and Physiology of Fishes Explained and Compared with those of Man and other Animals (Edin., 1785). The electric organs of fish (Torpedo and Gymnotus) were researched by Réaumur, J. N. S. Allamand, E. Bancroft, John Walsh, and more precisely by J. Hunter. The mystery surrounding eel reproduction led to numerous essays, and even the artificial propagation of Salmonidae was known and practiced by J. G. Gleditsch (1764).

Bloch and Lacepède’s works were almost immediately succeeded by the labours of Cuvier, but his early publications were tentative, preliminary and fragmentary, so that some little time elapsed before the spirit infused into ichthyology by this great anatomist could exercise its influence on all the workers in this field.

Bloch and Lacepède’s works were quickly followed by Cuvier’s efforts, but his early publications were hesitant, preliminary, and incomplete, so it took a little while before the passion this great anatomist brought to ichthyology could affect all the researchers in this area.

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The Descriptions and Figures of Two Hundred Fishes collected at Vizagapatam on the Coast of Coromandel (Lond., 1803, 2 vols.) by Patrick Russel, and An Account of the Fishes found in the River Ganges and its Branches (Edin., 1822, 2 vols.) by F. Hamilton (formerly Buchanan), were works distinguished by greater accuracy of the drawings (especially the latter) than was ever attained before. A Natural History of British Fishes was published by E. Donovan (Lond., 1802-1808); and the Mediterranean fauna formed the study of the lifetime of A. Risso, Ichthyologie de Nice (Paris, 1810); and Histoire naturelle de l’Europe méridionale (Paris, 1827). A slight beginning in the description of the fishes of the United States was made by Samuel Latham Mitchell (1764-1831), who published, besides various papers, a Memoir on the Ichthyology of New York, in 1815.

The Descriptions and Figures of Two Hundred Fishes Collected at Vizagapatam on the Coast of Coromandel (London, 1803, 2 vols.) by Patrick Russel, and An Account of the Fishes Found in the River Ganges and Its Branches (Edinburgh, 1822, 2 vols.) by F. Hamilton (formerly Buchanan), were notable for their improved accuracy in the drawings (especially the latter) compared to previous works. A Natural History of British Fishes was published by E. Donovan (London, 1802-1808); the Mediterranean fauna was the focus of A. Risso's lifetime study, which resulted in Ichthyologie de Nice (Paris, 1810) and Histoire naturelle de l’Europe méridionale (Paris, 1827). A small start in describing the fishes of the United States was made by Samuel Latham Mitchell (1764-1831), who published several papers and a Memoir on the Ichthyology of New York in 1815.

G. Cuvier (1769-1832) devoted himself to the study of fishes with particular predilection. The investigation of their anatomy, and especially their skeleton, was continued until he had succeeded in completing so perfect a framework Cuvier. of the system of the whole class that his immediate successors required only to fill up those details for which their master had had no leisure. He ascertained the natural affinities of the infinite variety of forms, and accurately defined the divisions, orders, families and genera of the class, as they appear in the various editions of the Règne Animal. His industry equalled his genius; he formed connections with almost every accessible part of the globe; and for many years the museum of the Jardin des Plantes was the centre where all ichthyological treasures were deposited. Thus Cuvier brought together a collection which, as it contains all the materials on which his labours were based, must still be considered as the most important. Soon after the year 1820, Cuvier, assisted Valenciennes. by one of his pupils, A. Valenciennes, commenced his great work on fishes, Historie naturelle des Poissons, of which the first volume appeared in 1828. After Cuvier’s death in 1832 the work was left entirely in the hands of Valenciennes, whose energy and interest gradually slackened, rising to their former pitch in some parts only, as, for instance, in the treatise, on the herring. He left the work unfinished with the twenty-second volume (1848), which treats of the Salmonoids. Yet, incomplete as it is, it is indispensable to the student.

G. Cuvier (1769-1832) dedicated himself to studying fish with great enthusiasm. He continued his investigation of their anatomy, especially their skeletons, until he created such a complete framework of the entire class that his immediate successors only needed to fill in the details that he hadn't had time to complete. He discovered the natural relationships among the vast variety of forms and accurately defined the divisions, orders, families, and genera of the class, as presented in various editions of the Règne Animal. His diligence matched his talent; he established connections with nearly every part of the world, and for many years, the museum at the Jardin des Plantes became the hub where all ichthyological treasures were collected. In doing so, Cuvier amassed a collection that contains all the materials on which his work was based and must still be regarded as the most significant. Shortly after 1820, Cuvier, with the help of one of his students, A. Valenciennes, began his extensive work on fish, Historie naturelle des Poissons, with the first volume published in 1828. After Cuvier's death in 1832, the project was entirely taken over by Valenciennes, whose enthusiasm and commitment gradually waned, only to revive in certain parts, such as in the section on herring. He left the work unfinished with the twenty-second volume (1848), which covers the Salmonoids. However, despite being incomplete, it remains essential for students.

The system finally adopted by Cuvier is the following:—

The system Cuvier finally adopted is as follows:—

A. POISSONS OSSEUX.
I. A Branchies en Peignes ou en Lames.
1. A Mâchoire Supérieure Libre.

A. BONY FISH.
I. With Comb or Lamellar Gills.
1. With a Free Upper Jaw.

a. Acanthoptérygiens.
Percoïdes. Sparoïdes. Branchies labyrinthiques.
Polynèmes. Chétodonoïdes. Lophioïdes.
Mulles. Scombéroïdes. Gobioïdes.
Joues cuirassées. Muges. Labroïdes.
Sciénoïdes.
b. Malacoptérygiens.
Abdominaux. Subbrachiens. Apodes.
  ——   ——   ——
Cyprinoïdes Gadoïdes. Murénoïdes.
Siluroïdes. Pleuronectes.
Salmonoïdes. Discoboles.
Clupéoïdes.
Lucioïdes.

2. A Mâchoire Supérieure Fixée.

2. Fixed Upper Jaw.

Selérodermes. Gymnodontes.

II. A Branchies en Forme de Houppes.
Lophobranches.

II. A Branchies in the Form of Tufts.
Lophobranches.

B. CARTILAGINEUX OU CHONDROPTÉRYGIENS.

B. Cartilaginous or Chondrichthyans.

Sturioniens. Plagiostomes. Cyclostomes.

We have only to compare this system with that of Linnaeus if we wish to measure the gigantic stride made by ichthyology during the intervening period of seventy years. The various characters employed for classification have been examined throughout the whole class, and their relative importance has been duly weighed and understood. The important category of “family” appears now in Cuvier’s system fully established as intermediate between genus and order. Important changes in Cuvier’s system have been made and proposed by his successors, but in the main it is still that of the present day.

We just need to compare this system with Linnaeus's to see the huge progress made in ichthyology over the past seventy years. The different traits used for classification have been thoroughly examined across the entire class, and their relative significance has been carefully considered and understood. The important category of "family" is now clearly established in Cuvier's system as a link between genus and order. Significant changes have been made and suggested by Cuvier's successors, but for the most part, it remains the system we use today.

Cuvier had extended his researches beyond the living forms, into the field of palaeontology; he was the first to observe the close resemblance of the scales of the fossil Palaeoniscus to those of the living Polypterus and Lepidosteus, the prolongation and identity of structure of the upper caudal lobe in Palaeoniscus and the sturgeons, the presence of peculiar “fulcra” on the anterior margin of the dorsal fin in Palaeoniscus and Lepidosteus, and inferred from these facts that the fossil genus was allied either to the sturgeons or to Lepidosteus. But it did not occur to him that there was a close relationship between those recent fishes. Lepidosteus and, with it, the fossil genus remained in his system a member of the order of Malacopterygii abdominales.

Cuvier expanded his research beyond living organisms into palaeontology. He was the first to notice the strong similarity between the scales of the fossil Palaeoniscus and those of the living Polypterus and Lepidosteus. He observed the extension and similarity in structure of the upper caudal lobe in Palaeoniscus and sturgeons, as well as the unique “fulcra” on the front edge of the dorsal fin in both Palaeoniscus and Lepidosteus. From these findings, he concluded that the fossil genus was related either to sturgeons or to Lepidosteus. However, he did not realize that there was a close connection between those modern fishes. In his classification, Lepidosteus and the fossil genus were still part of the order Malacopterygii abdominales.

It was left to L. Agassiz (1807-1873) to point out the importance of the structure of the scales as a characteristic, and to open a Agassiz. path towards the knowledge of a whole new subclass of fishes, the Ganoidei. Impressed with the fact that the peculiar scales of Polypterus and Lepidosteus are common to all fossil osseous fishes down to the Chalk, he takes the structure of the scales generally as the base for an ichthyological system, and distinguishes four orders:—

It was up to L. Agassiz (1807-1873) to highlight the importance of scale structure as a defining characteristic, paving the way for the understanding of an entirely new subclass of fish, the Ganoidei. Noticing that the unique scales of Polypterus and Lepidosteus are common to all fossil bony fish up to the Chalk period, he uses the structure of scales as the foundation for an ichthyological system and identifies four orders:—

1. Placoids.—Without scales proper, but with scales of enamel, sometimes large, sometimes small, and reduced to mere points (Rays, Sharks and Cyclostomi, with the fossil Hybodontes). 2. Ganoids.—With angular bony scales, covered with a thick stratum of enamel: to this order belong the fossil Lepidoides, Sauroides, Pycnodontes and Coelacanthi; the recent Polypterus, Lepidosteus, Sclerodermi, Gymnodontes, Lophobranches and Siluroides; also the Sturgeons. 3. Ctenoids.—With rough scales, which have their free margins denticulated: Chaetodontidae, Pleuronectidae, Percidae, Polyacanthi, Sciaenidae, Sparidae, Scorpaenidae, Aulostomi. 4. Cycloids.—With smooth scales, the hind margin of which lacks denticulation: Labridae, Mugilidae, Scombridae, Gadoidei, Gobiidae, Muraenidae, Lucioidei, Salmonidae, Clupeidae, Cyprinidae.

1. Placoids.—These fish don't have true scales but possess enamel scales, which can vary in size from large to small or even just tiny points (like Rays, Sharks, and Cyclostomes, including the fossil Hybodontes). 2. Ganoids.—These have bony scales that have angular shapes and are covered by a thick layer of enamel: this group includes fossil types like Lepidoides, Sauroides, Pycnodontes, and Coelacanthi; and also recent species like Polypterus, Lepidosteus, Sclerodermi, Gymnodontes, Lophobranches, and Siluroides; plus the Sturgeons. 3. Ctenoids.—These feature rough scales with serrated edges: Chaetodontidae, Pleuronectidae, Percidae, Polyacanthi, Sciaenidae, Sparidae, Scorpaenidae, Aulostomi. 4. Cycloids.—These have smooth scales without serrated edges at the back: Labridae, Mugilidae, Scombridae, Gadoidei, Gobiidae, Muraenidae, Lucioidei, Salmonidae, Clupeidae, Cyprinidae.

If Agassiz had had an opportunity of acquiring a more extensive and intimate knowledge of existing fishes before his energies were absorbed in the study of fossil remains, he would doubtless have recognized the artificial character of his classification. The distinctions between cycloid and ctenoid scales, between placoid and ganoid fishes, are vague, and can hardly be maintained. So far as the living and post-Cretacean forms are concerned, he abandoned the vantage-ground gained by Cuvier; and therefore his system could never supersede that of his predecessor, and finally shared the fate of every classification based on the modifications of one organ only. But Agassiz opened an immense new field of research by his study of the infinite variety of fossil forms. In his principal work, Recherches sur les poissons fossiles, Neuchâtel, 1833-1843, 4to, atlas in fol., he placed them before the world arranged in a methodical manner, with excellent descriptions and illustrations. His power of discernment and penetration in determining even the most fragmentary remains is astonishing; and, if his order of Ganoids is an assemblage of forms very different from what is now understood by that term, he was the first who recognized that such an order of fishes exists.

If Agassiz had had the chance to gain a broader and deeper understanding of current fish before he focused on studying fossil remains, he surely would have seen the artificial nature of his classification. The differences between cycloid and ctenoid scales, as well as between placoid and ganoid fish, are unclear and barely hold up. In terms of living and post-Cretaceous forms, he missed the advantage that Cuvier had achieved; thus, his system could never replace that of his predecessor and ultimately met the same fate as any classification based solely on changes in one organ. However, Agassiz opened up a vast new area of research with his exploration of the countless fossil forms. In his main work, Recherches sur les poissons fossiles, Neuchâtel, 1833-1843, 4to, atlas in folio, he presented them to the world in a systematic way, complete with excellent descriptions and illustrations. His ability to identify and analyze even the most fragmentary remains is remarkable; and while his classification of Ganoids includes forms that are quite different from what we currently define, he was the first to recognize that such a group of fish exists.

The discoverer of the Ganoidei was succeeded by their explorer Johannes Müller (1801-1858). In his classical memoir Über den Bau und die Grenzen der Ganoiden (Berl., 1846) he showed that the Ganoids differ from all the other osseous fishes, and agree with the Plagiostomes, in the structure of the heart. By this primary character, all heterogeneous elements, as Siluroids, Osteoglossidae, &c., were eliminated from the order as understood by Agassiz. On the other hand, he did not recognize the affinity of Lepidosiren to the Ganoids, but established for it a distinct subclass, Dipnoi, which he placed at the opposite end of the system. By his researches into the anatomy of the lampreys and Amphioxus, their typical distinctness from other cartilaginous fishes was proved; they became the types of two other subclasses, Cyclostomi and Leptocardii.

The discoverer of the Ganoidei was followed by their explorer Johannes Müller (1801-1858). In his classic paper Über den Bau und die Grenzen der Ganoiden (Berl., 1846), he demonstrated that Ganoids are different from all other bony fishes and share similarities with Plagiostomes in heart structure. By this key feature, he excluded all unrelated elements, such as Siluroids, Osteoglossidae, etc., from the order as defined by Agassiz. However, he did not recognize the connection between Lepidosiren and Ganoids, instead creating a separate subclass, Dipnoi, which he positioned at the opposite end of the classification system. Through his studies on the anatomy of lampreys and Amphioxus, he proved their distinctness from other cartilaginous fishes, establishing them as the examples of two additional subclasses, Cyclostomi and Leptocardii.

Müller proposed several other modifications of the Cuvierian system; and, although all cannot be maintained as the most natural arrangements, yet his researches have given us a much more complete knowledge of the organization of the Teleostean fishes, and later inquiries have shown that, on the whole, the combinations proposed by him require only some further modification and another definition to render them perfectly natural.

Müller suggested several other changes to the Cuvierian system; and, while not all of these can be considered the most natural arrangements, his research has significantly improved our understanding of the structure of Teleostean fishes. Further studies have indicated that, overall, the combinations he proposed only need a bit more adjustment and a new definition to become entirely natural.

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The discovery (in the year 1871) of a living representative of a genus hitherto believed to be long extinct, Ceratodus, threw a new light on the affinities of fishes. The writer of the present article, who had the good fortune to examine this fish, was enabled to show that, on the one hand, it was a form most closely allied to Lepidosiren, and, on the other, that it could not be separated from the Ganoid fishes, and therefore that Lepidosiren also was a Ganoid,—a relation already indicated by Huxley in a previous paper on “Devonian Fishes.”

The discovery in 1871 of a living representative of a genus thought to be long extinct, Ceratodus, shed new light on the relationships among fish. The author of this article, who had the opportunity to study this fish, was able to demonstrate that, on one hand, it was most closely related to Lepidosiren, and on the other hand, it couldn't be separated from the Ganoid fish, which means that Lepidosiren was also a Ganoid—a connection that Huxley had already pointed out in a previous paper on “Devonian Fishes.”

Having followed the development of the ichthyological system down to this period, we now enumerate the most important contributions to ichthyology which appeared contemporaneously with or subsequently to the publication of the great work of Cuvier and Valenciennes. For the sake of convenience we may arrange these works under two heads.

Having tracked the evolution of the fish classification system up to this point, we will now list the key contributions to ichthyology that were published either alongside or after the release of Cuvier and Valenciennes' major work. To make this easier, we can categorize these works into two groups.

I. Voyages, containing general accounts of Zoological Collections

I. Voyages, including overall descriptions of Zoological Collections

A. French.—1. Voyage autour du monde sur les corvettes de S. M. l’Uranie et la Physicienne, sous le commandement de M. Freycinet, “Zoologie—Poissons,” par Quoy et Gaimard (Paris, 1824). 2. Voyage de la Coquille, “Zoologie,” par Lesson (Paris, 1826-1830). 3. Voyage de l’Astrolabe, sous le commandement de M. J. Dumont d’Urville, “Poissons,” par Quoy et Gaimard (Paris, 1834). 4. Voyage au Pôle Sud par M. J. Dumont d’Urville, “Poissons,” par Hombron et Jacquinot (Paris, 1853-1854).

A. French.—1. Voyage autour du monde sur les corvettes de S. M. l’Uranie et la Physicienne, sous le commandement de M. Freycinet, “Zoologie—Poissons,” by Quoy and Gaimard (Paris, 1824). 2. Voyage de la Coquille, “Zoologie,” by Lesson (Paris, 1826-1830). 3. Voyage de l’Astrolabe, sous le commandement de M. J. Dumont d’Urville, “Poissons,” by Quoy and Gaimard (Paris, 1834). 4. Voyage au Pôle Sud par M. J. Dumont d’Urville, “Poissons,” by Hombron and Jacquinot (Paris, 1853-1854).

B. English.—1. Voyage of H.M.S. Sulphur, “Fishes,” by J. Richardson (Lond., 1844-1845). 2. Voyage of H.M.SS. Erebus and Terror, “Fishes,” by J. Richardson (Lond., 1846). 3. Voyage of H.M.S. Beagle, “Fishes,” by L. Jenyns (Lond., 1842).

B. English.—1. Voyage of H.M.S. Sulphur, “Fishes,” by J. Richardson (London, 1844-1845). 2. Voyage of H.M.SS. Erebus and Terror, “Fishes,” by J. Richardson (London, 1846). 3. Voyage of H.M.S. Beagle, “Fishes,” by L. Jenyns (London, 1842).

C. German.—1. Reise der österreichischen Fregatte Novara, “Fische,” von R. Kner (Vienna, 1865).

C. German.—1. Journey of the Austrian Frigate Novara, “Fish,” by R. Kner (Vienna, 1865).

II. Faunae

II. Wildlife

A. Great Britain.—1. R. Parnell, The Natural History of the Fishes of the Firth of Forth (Edin., 1838). 2. W. Yarrell, A History of British Fishes (3rd ed., Lond., 1859). 3. J. Couch, History of the Fishes of the British Islands (Lond., 1862-1865).

A. Great Britain.—1. R. Parnell, The Natural History of the Fishes of the Firth of Forth (Edin., 1838). 2. W. Yarrell, A History of British Fishes (3rd ed., Lond., 1859). 3. J. Couch, History of the Fishes of the British Islands (Lond., 1862-1865).

B. Denmark and Scandinavia.—1. H. Kröyer, Danmark’s Fiske (Copenhagen, 1838-1853). 2. S. Nilsson, Skandinavisk Fauna, vol. iv. “Fiskarna” (Lund, 1855). 3. Fries och Ekström, Skandinaviens Fiskar (Stockh., 1836).

B. Denmark and Scandinavia.—1. H. Kröyer, Denmark's Fish (Copenhagen, 1838-1853). 2. S. Nilsson, Scandinavian Fauna, vol. iv. “The Fish” (Lund, 1855). 3. Fries and Ekström, Scandinavia's Fish (Stockholm, 1836).

C. Russia.—1. Nordmann, “Ichthyologie pontique,” in Demidoff’s Voyage dans la Russie méridionale, tome iii. (Paris, 1840).

C. Russia.—1. Nordmann, “Pontic Ichthyology,” in Demidoff’s Journey in Southern Russia, volume iii. (Paris, 1840).

D. Germany.—1. Heckel und Kner, Die Süsswasserfische der österreichischen Monarchie (Leipz., 1858). 2. C. T. E. Siebold, Die Süsswasserfische von Mitteleuropa (Leipz., 1863).

D. Germany.—1. Heckel and Kner, The Freshwater Fishes of the Austrian Monarchy (Leipzig, 1858). 2. C. T. E. Siebold, The Freshwater Fishes of Central Europe (Leipzig, 1863).

E. Italy and Mediterranean.—1. Bonaparte, Iconografia della fauna italica, tom iii., “Pesci” (Rome, 1832-1841). 2. Costa, Fauna del regno di Napoli, “Pesci” (Naples, about 1850).

E. Italy and Mediterranean.—1. Bonaparte, Iconografia della fauna italica, vol. iii., “Fish” (Rome, 1832-1841). 2. Costa, Fauna of the Kingdom of Naples, “Fish” (Naples, around 1850).

F. France.—1. E. Blanchard, Les Poissons des eaux douces de la France (Paris, 1866).

F. France.—1. E. Blanchard, The Freshwater Fishes of France (Paris, 1866).

G. Spanish Peninsula.—The fresh-water fish fauna of Spain and Portugal was almost unknown, until F. Steindachner paid some visits to those countries for the purpose of exploring the principal rivers. His discoveries are described in several papers in the Sitzungsberichte der Akademie zu Wien. B. du Bocage and F. de B. Capello made contributions to our knowledge of the marine fishes on the coast of Portugal (Jorn. Scienc. Acad. Lisb.).

G. Spanish Peninsula.—The freshwater fish species in Spain and Portugal were mostly unknown until F. Steindachner visited these countries to explore the main rivers. His findings are detailed in several papers in the Sitzungsberichte der Akademie zu Wien. B. du Bocage and F. de B. Capello also contributed to our understanding of the marine fish along the coast of Portugal (Jorn. Scienc. Acad. Lisb.).

H. North America.—1. J. Richardson, Fauna Bareali-Americana, part iii., “Fishes” (Lond., 1836). The species described in this work are nearly all from the British possessions in the north. 2. Dekay, Zoology of New York, part iv., “Fishes” (New York, 1842). 3. Reports of the U.S. Comm. of Fish and Fisheries (5 vols., Washington, 1873-1879) and Reports and special publications of the U.S. Bureau of Fisheries contain valuable information. Numerous descriptions of North American fresh-water fishes have been published in the reports of the various U.S. Government expeditions, and in North American scientific journals, by D. H. Storer, S. F. Baird, C. Girard, W. O. Ayres, E. D. Cope, D. S. Jordan, G. Brown Goode, &c.

H. North America.—1. J. Richardson, Fauna Bareali-Americana, part iii., “Fishes” (London, 1836). The species described in this work are mostly from the British territories in the north. 2. Dekay, Zoology of New York, part iv., “Fishes” (New York, 1842). 3. Reports of the U.S. Comm. of Fish and Fisheries (5 vols., Washington, 1873-1879) and Reports and special publications of the U.S. Bureau of Fisheries provide valuable information. Many descriptions of North American freshwater fishes have been published in the reports of various U.S. Government expeditions and in North American scientific journals by D. H. Storer, S. F. Baird, C. Girard, W. O. Ayres, E. D. Cope, D. S. Jordan, G. Brown Goode, etc.

I. Japan.—1. Fauna Japonica, “Poissons,” par H. Schlegel, (Leiden, 1850).

I. Japan.—1. Fauna Japonica, “Fish,” by H. Schlegel, (Leiden, 1850).

J. East Indies; Tropical parts of the Indian and Pacific Oceans.—1. E. Rüppell, Atlas zu der Reise im nördlichen Afrika (Frankf., 1828). 2. E. Rüppell, Neue Wirbelthiere, “Fische” (Frankf., 1837). 3. R. L. Playfair and A. Günther, The Fishes of Zanzibar (Lond., 1876). 4. C. B. Klunzinger, Synopsis der Fische des Rothen Meers (Vienna, 1870-1871). 5. F. Day, The Fishes of India (Lond., 1865, 4to) contains an account of the fresh-water and marine species. 6. A. Günther, Die Fische der Südsee (Hamburg, 4to), from 1873 (in progress). 7. Unsurpassed in activity, as regards the exploration of the fish fauna of the East Indian archipelago, is P. Bleeker (1819-1878), a surgeon in the service of the Dutch East Indian Government, who, from the year 1840, for nearly thirty years, amassed immense collections of the fishes of the various islands, and described them in extremely numerous papers, published chiefly in the journals of the Batavian Society. Soon after his return to Europe (1860) Bleeker commenced to collect the final results of his labours in a grand work, illustrated by coloured plates, Atlas ichthyologique des Indes Orientales Néerlandaises (Amsterd., fol., 1862), the publication of which was interrupted by the author’s death in 1878.

J. East Indies; Tropical parts of the Indian and Pacific Oceans.—1. E. Rüppell, Atlas zu der Reise im nördlichen Afrika (Frankfurt, 1828). 2. E. Rüppell, Neue Wirbelthiere, “Fische” (Frankfurt, 1837). 3. R. L. Playfair and A. Günther, The Fishes of Zanzibar (London, 1876). 4. C. B. Klunzinger, Synopsis der Fische des Rothen Meers (Vienna, 1870-1871). 5. F. Day, The Fishes of India (London, 1865, 4to) includes details about the freshwater and marine species. 6. A. Günther, Die Fische der Südsee (Hamburg, 4to), from 1873 (in progress). 7. P. Bleeker (1819-1878), a surgeon for the Dutch East Indian Government, was unmatched in his dedication to exploring the fish fauna of the East Indian archipelago. From 1840, for nearly thirty years, he collected immense numbers of fish specimens from various islands and documented them in a large number of papers, primarily published in the journals of the Batavian Society. Shortly after returning to Europe in 1860, Bleeker began compiling a comprehensive work, illustrated with colored plates, Atlas ichthyologique des Indes Orientales Néerlandaises (Amsterdam, fol., 1862), but its publication was cut short by his death in 1878.

K. Africa.—1. A. Günther, “The Fishes of the Nile,” in Petherick’s Travels in Central Africa (Lond., 1869). 2. W. Peters, Naturwissenschaftliche Reise nach Mossambique, iv., “Flussfische” (Berl., 1868, 4to).

K. Africa.—1. A. Günther, “The Fishes of the Nile,” in Petherick’s Travels in Central Africa (London, 1869). 2. W. Peters, Naturwissenschaftliche Reise nach Mossambique, vol. iv, “River Fish” (Berlin, 1868, 4to).

L. West Indies and South America.—1. L. Agassiz, Selecta genera et species piscium, quae in itinere per Brasiliam, collegit J. B. de Spix (Munich, 1829, fol.). 2. F. de Castelnau, Animaux nouveaux ou rares, recueillis pendant l’expédition dans les parties centrales de l’Amérique du Sud, “Poissons” (Paris, 1855). 3. L. Vaillant and F. Bocourt, Mission scientifique au Mexique et dans l’Amérique centrale, “Poissons” (Paris, 1874). 4. F. Poey, the celebrated naturalist of Havana, devoted many years of study to the fishes of Cuba. His papers and memoirs are published partly in two periodicals, issued by himself, under the title of Memorias sobre la historia natural de la isla de Cuba (from 1851), and Repertorio fisico-natural de la isla de Cuba (from 1865), partly in North American scientific journals. And, finally, F. Steindachner and A. Günther have published many contributions, accompanied by excellent figures, to our knowledge of the fishes of Central and South America.

L. West Indies and South America.—1. L. Agassiz, Selecta genera et species piscium, quae in itinere per Brasiliam, collegit J. B. de Spix (Munich, 1829, fol.). 2. F. de Castelnau, Animaux nouveaux ou rares, recueillis pendant l’expédition dans les parties centrales de l’Amérique du Sud, “Poissons” (Paris, 1855). 3. L. Vaillant and F. Bocourt, Mission scientifique au Mexique et dans l’Amérique centrale, “Poissons” (Paris, 1874). 4. F. Poey, the renowned naturalist from Havana, dedicated many years to studying the fish of Cuba. His papers and memoirs were published partially in two journals he founded, titled Memorias sobre la historia natural de la isla de Cuba (starting in 1851) and Repertorio fisico-natural de la isla de Cuba (starting in 1865), and also in North American scientific journals. Lastly, F. Steindachner and A. Günther have contributed numerous works, along with excellent illustrations, to our understanding of the fish of Central and South America.

M. New Zealand.—1. F. W. Hutton and J. Hector, Fishes of New Zealand (Wellington, 1872).

M. New Zealand.—1. F. W. Hutton and J. Hector, Fishes of New Zealand (Wellington, 1872).

N. Arctic Regions.—1. C. Lütken, “A Revised Catalogue of the Fishes of Greenland,” in Manual of the Natural History, Geology and Physics of Greenland (Lond., 1875, 8vo). 2. The fishes of Spitzbergen were examined by A. J. Malmgren (1865).

N. Arctic Regions.—1. C. Lütken, “A Revised Catalogue of the Fishes of Greenland,” in Manual of the Natural History, Geology and Physics of Greenland (London, 1875, 8vo). 2. The fishes of Spitzbergen were studied by A. J. Malmgren (1865).

(A. C. G.)

II. History and Literature from 1880

II. History and Literature from 1880

In the systematic account which followed the above chapter in the 9th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the following classification, which is the same as that given in the author’s Introduction to the Study of Fishes (London, 1880) was adopted by Albert Günther:—

In the organized explanation that came after the chapter above in the 9th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the following classification, which is identical to what was presented in the author’s Introduction to the Study of Fishes (London, 1880), was used by Albert Günther:—

Subclass I. : Palaeichthyes.

Subclass I: Palaeichthyes.

Order I. : Chondropterygii.

Order I: Chondrichthyes.

With two suborders : Plagiostomata and Holocephala.

With two suborders: Plagiostomata and Holocephala.

Order II. : Ganoidei.

Order II: Ganoidei.

With eight suborders : Placodermi, Acanthodini, Dipnoi, Chondrostei, Polypteroidei, Pycnodontoidei, Lepidosteoidei, Amioidei.

With eight suborders: Placodermi, Acanthodini, Dipnoi, Chondrostei, Polypteroidei, Pycnodontoidei, Lepidosteoidei, Amioidei.

Subclass II. : Teleostei.

Subclass II: Teleostei.

Order I. : Acanthopterygii.

Order I: Acanthopterygii.

With the divisions Perciformes, Beryciformes, Kurtiformes, Polynemiformes, Sciaeniformes, Xiphiiformes, Trichiuriformes, Cotto-Scombriformes, Gobiiformes, Blenniformes, Mugiliformes, Gastrosteiformes, Centrisciformes, Gobiesociformes, Channiformes, Labyrinthibranchii, Lophotiformes, Taeniiformes and Notacanthiformes.

With the groups Perciformes, Beryciformes, Kurtiformes, Polynemiformes, Sciaeniformes, Xiphiiformes, Trichiuriformes, Cotto-Scombriformes, Gobiiformes, Blenniformes, Mugiliformes, Gastrosteiformes, Centrisciformes, Gobiesociformes, Channiformes, Labyrinthibranchii, Lophotiformes, Taeniiformes, and Notacanthiformes.

Order II. : Acanthopterygii Pharyngognathi.

Order II: Acanthopterygii Pharyngognathi.

Order III. : Anacanthini.

Order III: Anacanthini.

With two divisions : Gadoidei and Pleuronectoidei.

With two divisions: Gadoidei and Pleuronectoidei.

Order IV. : Physostomi.

Order IV: Physostomi.

Order V. : Lophobranchii.

Order V: Lophobranchii.

Order VI. : Plectognathi.

Order VI: Plectognathi.

Subclass III. : Cyclostomata.

Subclass III: Cyclostomata.

Subclass IV. : Leptogardii.

Subclass IV: Leptogardii.

It was an artificial system, in which the most obvious relationships of the higher groups were lost sight of, and the results of the already fairly advanced study of the fossil forms to a great extent discarded. This system gave rise to much adverse criticism; as T. H. Huxley forcibly put it in a paper published soon after (1883), opposing the division of the main groups into Palaeichthyes and Teleostei: “Assuredly, if there is any such distinction to be drawn on the basis of our present knowledge among the higher fishes, it is between the Ganoids and the Plagiostomes, and not between the Ganoids and the Teleosteans”; at the same time expressing his conviction, “first, that there are no two large groups of animals for which the evidence of a direct genetic connexion is better than in the case of the Ganoids and the Teleosteans; and secondly, that the proposal to separate the Elasmobranchii (Chondropterygii of Günther), Ganoidei and Dipnoi of Müller into a group apart from, and equivalent to, the Teleostei appears to be inconsistent with the plainest relations of these fishes.” This verdict has been endorsed by all subsequent workers at the classification of fishes.

It was an artificial system where the most obvious relationships between the higher groups were ignored, and the findings from the already quite advanced study of fossil forms were largely dismissed. This system faced a lot of criticism; as T. H. Huxley strongly argued in a paper published shortly after (1883), opposing the division of the main groups into Palaeichthyes and Teleostei: “Certainly, if there is any distinction to be made based on our current knowledge of the higher fishes, it's between the Ganoids and the Plagiostomes, not between the Ganoids and the Teleosteans”; he also expressed his belief, “first, that there are no two large groups of animals for which the evidence of a direct genetic connection is stronger than in the case of the Ganoids and the Teleosteans; and second, that the suggestion to separate the Elasmobranchii (Chondropterygii of Günther), Ganoidei, and Dipnoi of Müller into a separate group equivalent to the Teleostei seems to contradict the most obvious relationships of these fishes.” This judgment has been supported by all subsequent researchers in fish classification.

Günther’s classification would have been vastly improved 248 had he made use of a contribution published as early as 1871, but not referred to by him. As not even a passing allusion is made to it in the previous chapter, we must retrace our steps to make good this striking omission. Edward Drinker Cope (1840-1897) was a worker of great originality and relentless energy, who, in the sixties of the last century, inspired by the doctrine of evolution, was one of the first to apply its principles to the classification of vertebrates. Equally versed in recent and fossil zoology, and endowed with a marvellous gift, or “instinct” for perceiving the relationship of animals, he has done a great deal for the advance of our knowledge of mammals, reptiles and fishes. Although often careless in the working out of details and occasionally a little too bold in his deductions, Cope occupies a high rank among the zoologists of the 19th century, and much of his work has stood the test of time.

Günther’s classification would have been greatly improved 248 if he had considered a contribution published as early as 1871, which he did not mention. Since there isn't even a brief reference to it in the previous chapter, we need to go back and address this notable omission. Edward Drinker Cope (1840-1897) was a highly original and tireless researcher who, in the 1860s, inspired by the idea of evolution, was one of the first to apply its principles to the classification of vertebrates. Well-versed in both recent and fossil zoology, and possessing an incredible talent, or “instinct,” for recognizing the connections between animals, he significantly advanced our understanding of mammals, reptiles, and fishes. Although he was often careless in working through details and sometimes a bit too daring in his conclusions, Cope holds a prominent position among 19th-century zoologists, and much of his work has endured through time.

The following was Cope’s classification, 1871 (Tr. Amer. Philos. Soc. xiv. 449).

The following was Cope’s classification, 1871 (Tr. Amer. Philosophical Society xiv. 449).

Subclass I. Holocephali.

Subclass I. Holocephali.

  ”   II. Selachii.

II. Sharks.

  ”   III. Dipnoi.

III. Lungfish.

  ”   IV. Crossopterygia, with two orders: Haplistia and Cladistia.

”   IV. Crossopterygia, which includes two orders: Haplistia and Cladistia.

  ”    V. Actinopteri.

Actinopteri

The latter is subdivided in the following manner:—

The latter is divided as follows:—

Tribe I. : Chondrostei.

Order I: Chondrostei.

Two orders : Selachostomi and Glaniostomi.

Two orders: Selachostomi and Glaniostomi.

Tribe II. : Physostomi.

Tribe II: Physostomi.

Twelve orders: Ginglymodi, Halecomorphi, Nematognathi, Scyphophori, Plectospondyli, Isospondyli, Haplomi, Glanencheli, Ichthyocephali, Holostomi, Enchelycephali, Colocephali.

Twelve orders: Ginglymodi, Halecomorphi, Nematognathi, Scyphophori, Plectospondyli, Isospondyli, Haplomi, Glanencheli, Ichthyocephali, Holostomi, Enchelycephali, Colocephali.

Tribe III. : Physoclysti.

Tribe III: Physoclysti.

Ten orders : Opisthomi, Percesoces, Synentognathi, Hemibranchii, Lophobranchii, Pediculati, Heterosomata, Plectognathi, Percomorphi, Pharyngognathi.

Ten orders: Opisthomi, Percesoces, Synentognathi, Hemibranchii, Lophobranchii, Pediculati, Heterosomata, Plectognathi, Percomorphi, Pharyngognathi.

Alongside with so much that is good in this classification, there are many suggestions which cannot be regarded as improvements on the views of previous workers. Attaching too great an importance to the mode of suspension of the mandible, Cope separated the Holocephali from the Selachii and the Dipnoi from the Crossopterygii, thus obscuring the general agreement which binds these groups to each other, whilst there is an evident want of proportion in the five subclasses. The exclusion from the class Pisces of the Leptocardii, or lancelets, as first advocated by E. Haeckel, was a step in the right direction, whilst that of the Cyclostomes does not seem called for to such an authority as R. H. Traquair, with whom the writer of this review entirely concurs.

Along with so much that is good in this classification, there are many suggestions that can’t be seen as improvements over the views of earlier researchers. By placing too much importance on how the mandible is suspended, Cope separated the Holocephali from the Selachii and the Dipnoi from the Crossopterygii, which obscures the overall connection that exists between these groups, while also showing an obvious lack of balance in the five subclasses. Excluding the Leptocardii, or lancelets, from the class Pisces, as first proposed by E. Haeckel, was a step in the right direction, while the exclusion of the Cyclostomes doesn’t seem justified to such an authority as R. H. Traquair, with whom the author of this review fully agrees.

The group of Crossopterygians, first separated as a family from the other Ganoids by Huxley, constituted a fortunate innovation, and so was its division into two minor groups, by which the existing forms (Polypteroidei) were separated as Cladistia. The divisions of the Actinopteri, which includes all Teleostomes other than the Dipneusti and Crossopterygii also showed, on the whole, a correct appreciation of their relationships, the Chondrostei being well separated from the other Ganoids with which they were generally associated. In the groupings of the minor divisions, which Cope termed orders, we had a decided improvement on the Cuvierian-Müllerian classification, the author having utilized many suggestions of his fellow countrymen Theodore Gill, who has done much towards a better understanding of their relationships. In the association of the Characinids with the Cyprinids (Plectospondyli) in the separation of the flat-fishes from the Ganoids, in the approximation of the Lophobranchs to the sticklebacks and of the Plectognaths to the Acanthopterygians, and in many other points, Cope was in advance of his time, and it is to be regretted that his contemporaries did not more readily take up many of his excellent suggestions for the improvement of their systems.

The group of Crossopterygians, which Huxley first identified as its own family separate from other Ganoids, was a fortunate development. This led to its division into two smaller groups, with the existing forms (Polypteroidei) designated as Cladistia. The classifications within the Actinopteri, which includes all Teleostomes except the Dipneusti and Crossopterygii, generally reflected an accurate understanding of their relationships, with the Chondrostei being clearly distinguished from other Ganoids they were typically grouped with. In the classification of these minor divisions, which Cope referred to as orders, there was a significant improvement over the Cuvierian-Müllerian system. Cope incorporated many insights from his fellow countryman Theodore Gill, who contributed greatly to clarifying their relationships. Cope was ahead of his time in associating Characinids with Cyprinids (Plectospondyli), separating flat-fishes from Ganoids, grouping Lophobranchs with sticklebacks, and relating Plectognaths to Acanthopterygians, among other aspects. It's unfortunate that his contemporaries did not more readily adopt many of his excellent suggestions for enhancing their classifications.

In the subsequent period of his very active scientific life, Cope made many alterations to his system, the latest scheme published by him being the following (“Synopsis of the families of Vertebrata,” Amer. Natur., 1889, p. 849):—

In the following phase of his highly active scientific career, Cope made numerous changes to his system, with the most recent version published being the following (“Synopsis of the families of Vertebrata,” Amer. Natur., 1889, p. 849):—

Class : Agnatha.

Class: Agnatha.

 I. Subclass : Ostracodermi.

I. Subclass: Ostracodermi.

Orders : Arrhina, Diplorrhina.

Orders: Arrhina, Diplorrhina.

II. Subclass : Marsipobranchii.

II. Subclass: Marsipobranchii.

Orders : Hyperotreti, Hyperoarti.

Orders: Hyperotreti, Hyperoarti.

Class : Pisces.

Class: Pisces.

 I. Subclass : Holocephali.

I. Subclass: Holocephali.

II. Subclass : Dipnoi.

II. Subclass: Dipnoi.

III. Subclass : Elasmobranchii.

III. Subclass: Elasmobranchii.

Orders : Ichthyotomi, Selachii.

Orders: Fish and Sharks.

IV. Subclass : Teleostomi.

IV. Subclass: Teleostomi.

(i.) Superorder : Rhipidopterygia.

Superorder: Rhipidopterygia.

Orders : Rhipidistia, Actinistia.

Orders: Rhipidistia, Actinistia.

(ii.) Superorder : Crossopterygia.

(ii.) Superorder: Crossopterygia.

Orders : Placodermi, Haplistia, Taxistia, Cladistia.

Orders: Placodermi, Haplistia, Taxistia, Cladistia.

(iii.) Superorder : Podopterygia (Chondrostei).

(iii.) Superorder: Podopterygia (Chondrostei).

(iv.) Superorder : Actinopterygia.

(iv.) Superorder: Actinopterygia.

Orders : Physostomi, Physoclysti.

Orders: Physostomi, Physoclysti.

This classification is that followed, with many emendations, by A. S. Woodward in his epoch-making Catalogue of Fossil Fishes (4 vols., London, 1889-1901), and in his most useful Outlines of Vertebrate Paleontology (Cambridge, 1898), and was adopted by Günther in the 10th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica:—

This classification is the one used, with many updates, by A. S. Woodward in his groundbreaking Catalogue of Fossil Fishes (4 vols., London, 1889-1901), and in his very helpful Outlines of Vertebrate Paleontology (Cambridge, 1898), and was adopted by Günther in the 10th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica:—

Class : Agnatha.

Class: Agnatha.

 I. Subclass : Cyclostomi.

I. Subclass: Cyclostomi.

With three orders : (a) Hyperoartia (Lampreys); (b) Hyperotreti (Myxinoids); (c) Cycliae (Palaeospondylus).

With three categories: (a) Hyperoartia (Lampreys); (b) Hyperotreti (Myxinoids); (c) Cycliae (Palaeospondylus).

II. Subclass : Ostracodermi.

II. Subclass: Ostracodermi.

With four orders : (a) Heterostraci (Coelolepidae, Psammosteidae, Drepanaspidae, Pteraspidae); (b) Osteostraci (Cephalaspidae, Ateleaspidae, &c.); (c) Antiarchi (Asterolepidae, Pterichthys, Bothrolepis, &c.); (d) Anaspida (Birkeniidae).

With four categories: (a) Heterostraci (Coelolepidae, Psammosteidae, Drepanaspidae, Pteraspidae); (b) Osteostraci (Cephalaspidae, Ateleaspidae, etc.); (c) Antiarchi (Asterolepidae, Pterichthys, Bothrolepis, etc.); (d) Anaspida (Birkeniidae).

Class : Pisces.

Class: Pisces.

 I. Subclass : Elasmobranchii.

I. Subclass: Elasmobranchii.

With four orders : (a) Pleuropterygii (Cladoselache); (b) Ichthyotomi (Pleuracanthidae); (c) Acanthodii (Diplacanthidae, and Acanthodidae); (d) Selachii (divided from the structure of the vertebral centres into Asterospondyli and Tectospondyli).

With four categories: (a) Pleuropterygii (Cladoselache); (b) Ichthyotomi (Pleuracanthidae); (c) Acanthodii (Diplacanthidae and Acanthodidae); (d) Selachii (split from the structure of the vertebral centers into Asterospondyli and Tectospondyli).

II. Subclass : Holocephali.

II. Subclass: Holocephali.

With one order : Chimaeroidei.

With one order: Chimaeroidei.

III. Subclass : Dipnoi.

III. Subclass: Dipnoi.

With two orders : (a) Sirenoidei (Lepidosiren, Ceratodus, Uronemidae, Ctenodontidae); (b) Arthrodira (Homosteus, Coccosteus, Dinichthys).

With two categories: (a) Sirenoidei (Lepidosiren, Ceratodus, Uronemidae, Ctenodontidae); (b) Arthrodira (Homosteus, Coccosteus, Dinichthys).

IV. Subclass : Teleostomi.

IV. Subclass: Teleostomi.

A. Order : Crossopterygii.

A. Order: Crossopterygii.

With four suborders: (1) Haplistia (Tarassius); (2) Rhipidistia (Holoptychidae, Rhizodontidae, Osteolepidae); (3) Actinistia (Coelacanthidae); (4) Cladistia (Polypterus).

With four suborders: (1) Haplistia (Tarassius); (2) Rhipidistia (Holoptychidae, Rhizodontidae, Osteolepidae); (3) Actinistia (Coelacanthidae); (4) Cladistia (Polypterus).

B. Order : Actinopterygii.

B. Order: Actinopterygii.

With about twenty suborders: (1) Chondrostei (Palaeoniscidae, Platysomidae, Chondrosteidae, Sturgeons); (2) Protospondyli (Semionotidae, Macrosemiidae, Pycnodontidae, Eugnathidae, Amiidae, Pachycormidae); (3) Aetheospondyli (Aspidorhynchidae, Lepidosteidae); (4) Isospondyli (Pholidophoridae, Osteoglossidae, Clupeidae, Leptolepidae, &c.); (5) Plectospondyli (Cyprinidae, Characinidae); (6) Nematognathi; (7) Apodes; and the other Teleosteans.

With about twenty suborders: (1) Chondrostei (Palaeoniscidae, Platysomidae, Chondrosteidae, Sturgeons); (2) Protospondyli (Semionotidae, Macrosemiidae, Pycnodontidae, Eugnathidae, Amiidae, Pachycormidae); (3) Aetheospondyli (Aspidorhynchidae, Lepidosteidae); (4) Isospondyli (Pholidophoridae, Osteoglossidae, Clupeidae, Leptolepidae, etc.); (5) Plectospondyli (Cyprinidae, Characinidae); (6) Nematognathi; (7) Apodes; and the other Teleosteans.

There are, however, grave objections to this system, which cannot be said to reflect the present state of our knowledge. In his masterly paper on the evolution of the Dipneusti, L. Dollo has conclusively shown that the importance of the autostyly on which the definition of the Holocephali from the Elasmobranchii or Selachii and of the Dipneusti from the Teleostomi rested, had been exaggerated, and that therefore the position assigned to these two groups in Günther’s classification of 1880 still commended itself. Recent work on Palaeospondylus, on the Ostracoderms, and on the Arthrodira, throws great doubt on the propriety of the positions given to them in the above classification, and the rank assigned to the main divisions of the Teleostomi do not commend themselves to the writer of the present article, who would divide the fishes into three subclasses:—

There are, however, serious concerns about this system, which can't be considered representative of our current understanding. In his insightful paper on the evolution of the Dipneusti, L. Dollo has convincingly demonstrated that the significance of autostyly, which was the basis for distinguishing the Holocephali from the Elasmobranchii or Selachii and the Dipneusti from the Teleostomi, has been overstated. Therefore, the classification that Günther proposed in 1880 still holds merit. Recent research on Palaeospondylus, Ostracoderms, and Arthrodira casts considerable doubt on the appropriateness of the classifications assigned to them in the aforementioned system, and the ranking of the main divisions of the Teleostomi does not appeal to the author of this article, who would categorize fish into three subclasses:—

I. Cyclostomi
II. Selachii
III. Teleostomi,

the characters and contents of which will be found in separate 249 articles; in the present state of uncertainty as to their position, Palaeospondylus and the Ostracodermi are best placed hors cadre and will be dealt with under these names.

the characters and contents of which will be found in separate 249 articles; given the current uncertainty about their classification, Palaeospondylus and the Ostracodermi are best considered hors cadre and will be addressed under these names.

The three subclasses here adopted correspond exactly with those proposed in Theo. Gill’s classification of the recent fishes (“Families and Subfamilies of Fishes,” Mem. Nat. Ac. Sci. vi. 1893), except that they are regarded by that authority as classes.

The three subclasses mentioned here align perfectly with those suggested in Theo. Gill's classification of recent fishes ("Families and Subfamilies of Fishes," Mem. Nat. Ac. Sci. vi. 1893), except that he considers them classes.

The period dealt with in this chapter, ushered in by the publication of Günther’s Introduction to the Study of Fishes, has been one of extraordinary activity in every branch of ichthyology, recent and fossil. A glance at the Zoological Record, published by the Zoological Society of London, will show the ever-increasing number of monographs, morphological papers and systematic contributions, which appear year after year. The number of new genera and species which are being proposed is amazing, but it is difficult to tell how many of them will simply go to swell the already overburdened synonymy. Perhaps a reasonable estimate of the living species known at the present day would assess their number at about 13,000.

The time covered in this chapter, marked by the release of Günther’s Introduction to the Study of Fishes, has been one of incredible activity in all areas of ichthyology, both modern and fossil. A look at the Zoological Record, published by the Zoological Society of London, will reveal the steadily increasing number of monographs, morphological studies, and systematic contributions that come out every year. The number of new genera and species being proposed is astounding, but it’s hard to determine how many will just add to the already overloaded synonymy. A reasonable estimate of the known living species today would put their number at around 13,000.

It is much to be regretted that there is not a single general modern systematic work on fishes. The most important treatises, the 7th volume of the Cambridge Natural History, by T. W. Bridge and G. A. Boulenger, and D. S. Jordan’s Guide to the Study of Fishes, only profess to give definitions of the families with enumerations of the principal genera. Günther’s Catalogue of the Fishes in the British Museum therefore remains the only general descriptive treatise, but its last volume dates from 1870, and the work is practically obsolete. A second edition of it was begun in 1894, but only one volume, by Boulenger, has appeared, and the subject is so vast that it seems doubtful now whether any one will ever have the time and energy to repeat Günther’s achievement. The fish fauna of the different parts of the world will have to be dealt with separately, and it is in this direction that descriptive ichthyology is most likely to progress.

It's unfortunate that there's no comprehensive modern systematic work on fish. The most significant texts, the 7th volume of the Cambridge Natural History by T. W. Bridge and G. A. Boulenger, and D. S. Jordan’s Guide to the Study of Fishes, only claim to define the families and list the main genera. Günther’s Catalogue of the Fishes in the British Museum remains the only general descriptive work, but its last volume was published in 1870, making it practically outdated. A second edition was started in 1894, but only one volume, by Boulenger, has been published. The topic is so extensive that it seems unlikely anyone will have the time and energy to replicate Günther’s work. The fish species in different regions around the world will need to be studied separately, and this is where descriptive ichthyology is most likely to progress.

North America, the fishes of which were imperfectly known in 1880, now possesses a Descriptive Catalogue in 4 stout volumes, by D. S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, replacing the synopsis brought out in 1882 by D. S. Jordan and C. H. Gilbert. A similar treatise should embrace all the fresh-water species of Africa, the fishes of the two principal river systems, the Nile and the Congo, having recently been worked out by G. A. Boulenger. Japanese ichthyology has been taken in hand by D. S. Jordan and his pupils.

North America, which only had a limited understanding of its fish in 1880, now has a Descriptive Catalogue in four substantial volumes by D. S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, replacing the synopsis published in 1882 by D. S. Jordan and C. H. Gilbert. A similar work should cover all the freshwater species of Africa, as the fishes of the two main river systems, the Nile and the Congo, have recently been documented by G. A. Boulenger. Japanese ichthyology has been taken up by D. S. Jordan and his students.

The fishes of the deep sea have been the subject of extensive monographs by L. Vaillant (Travailleur and Talisman), A. Günther (Challenger), A. Alcock (Investigator), R. Collett (Hirondelle), S. Garman (Albatross) and a general résumé up to 1895 was provided in G. B. Goode’s and T. H. Bean’s Oceanic Ichthyology. More than 600 true bathybial fishes are known from depths of 1000 fathoms and more, and a great deal of evidence has been accumulated to show the general transition of the surface fauna into the bathybial.

The deep sea fish have been thoroughly documented in monographs by L. Vaillant (Travailleur and Talisman), A. Günther (Challenger), A. Alcock (Investigator), R. Collett (Hirondelle), S. Garman (Albatross), and a general summary up to 1895 was provided in G. B. Goode’s and T. H. Bean’s Oceanic Ichthyology. More than 600 true bathybial fish species have been identified from depths of 1000 fathoms or more, and substantial evidence has been gathered to demonstrate the overall transition of surface fauna into the bathybial zone.

A recent departure has been the exploration of the Antarctic fauna. Three general reports, on the results of the Southern Cross, the Belgica and the Swedish South Polar expeditions, had already been published in 1907, and others on the Scotia and Discovery were in preparation. No very striking new types of fishes have been discovered, but the results obtained are sufficient to entirely disprove the theory of bipolarity which some naturalists had advocated. Much has been done towards ascertaining the life-histories of the fishes of economic importance, both in Europe and in North America, and our knowledge of the larval and post-larval forms has made great progress.

A recent development has been the study of the Antarctic wildlife. Three main reports on the findings from the Southern Cross, the Belgica, and the Swedish South Polar expeditions were published in 1907, and additional reports on the Scotia and Discovery are being prepared. While no particularly striking new types of fish have been identified, the findings are enough to completely debunk the bipolarity theory that some naturalists had proposed. Significant progress has been made in understanding the life cycles of economically important fish species in both Europe and North America, and our knowledge of their larval and post-larval stages has advanced greatly.

Wonderful activity has been displayed in the field of palaeontology, and the careful working out of the morphology of the archaic types has led to a better understanding of the general lines of evolution; but it is to be regretted that very little light on the relationships of the living groups of Teleosteans has been thrown by the discoveries of palaeontologists.

Great work has been done in the field of paleontology, and the detailed study of the shape of ancient types has improved our understanding of the overall patterns of evolution. However, it’s unfortunate that the discoveries made by paleontologists have not shed much light on the relationships of the existing groups of Teleosteans.

Among the most remarkable additions made in recent years, the work of R. H. Traquair on the problematic fishes Palaeospondylus, Thelodus, Drepanaspis, Lanarkia, Ateleaspis, Birkenia and Lanasius, ranks foremost; next to it must be placed the researches of A. S. Woodward and Bashford Dean on the primitive shark Cladoselache, and of the same authors, J. S. Newberry, C. R. Eastman, E. W. Claypole and L. Hussakof, on the Arthrodira, a group the affinities of which have been much discussed.

Among the most notable contributions in recent years, R. H. Traquair's work on the tricky fish species Palaeospondylus, Thelodus, Drepanaspis, Lanarkia, Ateleaspis, Birkenia, and Lanasius stands out. Following this, we have the studies by A. S. Woodward and Bashford Dean on the primitive shark Cladoselache, along with the same authors and J. S. Newberry, C. R. Eastman, E. W. Claypole, and L. Hussakof on the Arthrodira, a group that has sparked much debate about its relationships.

Authorities.—The following selection from the extremely extensive ichthyological literature which has appeared during the period 1880-1906 will supplement the bibliographical notice appended to section I. I. The General Subject: A. Günther, Introduction to the Study of Fishes (Edinburgh, 1880); B. Dean, Fishes Living and Fossil (New York, 1895); T. W. Bridge and G. A. Boulenger, “Fishes,” Cambridge Natural History, vii. (1904); D. S. Jordan, Guide to the Study of Fishes (2 vols., New York, 1905). II. Palaeontological: A. Fritsch, Fauna der Gaskohle und der Kalksteine der Permformation Böhmens (vols, i.-iii., Prague, 1879-1894); K. A. von Zittel, Handbuch der Paläontologie, vol. iii. (Munich, 1887); A. Smith Woodward, Catalogue of Fossil Fishes in the British Museum, vols. i.-iii. (London, 1889-1895); A. Smith Woodward, Outlines of Vertebrate Palaeontology for Students of Zoology (Cambridge, 1898); J. S. Newberry, “The Palaeozoic Fishes of North America,” Mon. U.S. Geol. Surv. vol. xvi. (1889); J. V. Rohon, “Die obersilurischen Fische von Ösel, Thyestidae und Tremataspidae,” Mém. Ac. Imp. Sc. St-Pétersb. xxxviii. (1892); O. Jaekel, Die Selachier von Bolca, ein Beitrag zur Morphogenie der Wirbeltiere (Berlin, 1894); B. Dean, “Contributions to the Morphology of Cladoselache,” Journ. Morphol. ix. (1894); R. H. Traquair, “The Asterolepidae,” Mon. Palaeont. Soc. (1894-1904, in progress); “Report on Fossil Fishes collected by the Geological Survey of Scotland in the Silurian Rocks of the South of Scotland,” Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin. xxxix. (1899); L. Dollo, “Sur la phylogénie des Dipneustes,” Bull. Soc. Belge Géol. vol. ix. (1895); E. W. Claypole, “The Ancestry of the Upper Devonian Placoderms of Ohio,” Amer. Geol. xvii. (1896); B. Dean, “Palaeontlogical Notes,” Mem. N.Y. Ac. ii. (1901); A. Stewart and S. W. Williston, “Cretaceous Fishes of Kansas,” Univ. Geol. Surv. Kansas, vi. (Topeka, 1901); A. S. Woodward, “Fossil Fishes of the English Chalk,” Palaeontogr. Soc. (1902-1903, etc.); R. H. Traquair, “The Lower Devonian Fishes of Gemünden.,” Roy. Soc. Edin. Trans. 40 (1903); W. J. and I. B. J. Sollas, “Account of the Devonian Fish Palaeospondylus,” Phil. Trans. 196 (1903); C. T. Regan, “Phylogeny of the Teleostomi,” Ann. & Mag. N.H. (7) 13 (1904); C. R. Eastman, “Fishes of Monte Bolca,” Bull. Mus. C.Z. 46 (1904); “Structure and Relations of Mylostoma,” Op. cit. 2 (1906); O. Abel, “Fossile Flugfische,” Jahrb. Geol. Reichsanst. 56 (Wien, 1906); L. Hussakof. “Studies on the Arthrodira,” Mem. Amer. Mus. N.H. ix. (1906). III. Faunistic (recent fishes): (A) Europe: E. Bade, Die mitteleuropäischen Süsswasserfische (2 vols., Berlin, 1901-1902). Great Britain: F. Day, The Fishes of Great Britain and Ireland (2 vols., London, 1880-1884); J. T. Cunningham, The Natural History of the Marketable Marine Fishes of the British Islands (London, 1896); W. C. M’Intosh and A. T. Masterman, The Life-Histories of the British Marine Food-Fishes (London, 1897); Sir H. Maxwell, British Fresh-water Fish (London, 1904); F. G. Aflalo, British Salt-water Fish (London, 1904). Numerous important researches into the development, life-conditions and distributions, carried out at the Biological Laboratories at Plymouth and St Andrews and during the survey of the fishing grounds of Ireland, have been published by W. L. Calderwood, J. T. Cunningham, E. W. L. Holt, W. C. M’Intosh, J. W. Fulton, W. Garstang and Prince in the Journ. Mar. Biolog. Assoc., The Reports of the Fishery Board of Scotland, Scient. Trans. R. Dublin Soc. and other periodicals. (B) Denmark and Scandinavia: W. Lilljeborg, Sveriges och Norges Fiskar (3 vols., Upsala, 1881-1891); F. A. Smith, A History of Scandinavian Fishes by B. Fries, C. U. Ekström and C. Sundevall, with Plates by W. von Wright (second edition, revised and completed by F. A. S., Stockholm, 1892); A. Stuxberg, Sveriges och Norges Fiskar (Göteborg, 1895); C. G. J. Petersen, Report of the Danish Biological Station (Copenhagen, 1802-1900) (annual reports containing much information on fishes of and fishing in the Danish seas). (C) Finland: G. Sundman and A. J. Mela, Finland’s Fiskar (Helsingfors, 1883-1891). (D) Germany: K. Möbius and F. Heincke, “Die Fische der Ostsee,” Bericht Commiss. Untersuch. deutsch. Meere (Kiel, 1883); F. Heincke, E. Ehrenbaum and G. Duncker have published their investigations into the life-history and development of the fishes of Heligoland in Wissenschaftl. Meeresuntersuchungen (Kiel and Leipzig, 1894-1899); (E) Switzerland: V. Fatio, Faune des vertébrés de la Suisse: Poissons (2 vols., Geneva and Basel, 1882-1890). (F) France: E. Moreau, Histoire naturelle des poissons de la France (3 vols., Paris, 1881); Supplément (Paris, 1891). (G) Pyrenean Peninsula: D. Carlos de Bragança, Resultados das investigações scientificas feitas a bordo do yacht “Amelia.” Pescas maritimas, i. and ii. (Lisbon, 1899-1904). (H) Italy and Mediterranean: P. Döderlein, Manuale ittiologico del Mediterraneo (Palermo, 1881-1891, not completed; interrupted 250 by the death of the author); E. W. L. Holt, “Recherches sur la reproduction des poissons osseux, principalement dans le golfe de Marseille,” Ann. Mus. Mars. v. (Marseilles, 1899); (I) Western and Central Asia: L. Lortet, “Poissons et reptiles du lac de Tibériade,” Arch. Mus. d’Hist. Nat. Lyon, iii. (1883); S. Herzenstein, Wissenschaftliche Resultate der von N. M. Przewalski nach Central Asien unternommenen Reisen: Fische (St Petersburg, 1888-1891); L. Berg, Fishes of Turkestan (Russian text, St Petersburg, 1905); G. Radde, S. Kamensky and F. F. Kawraisky have worked out the Cyprinids and Salmonids of the Caucasus (Tiflis, 1896-1899). (J) Japan: F. Steindachner and L. Döderlein, “Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Fische Japans,” Denkschr. Ak. Wien, (vols. 67 and 68, 1883); K. Otaki, T. Fujita and T. Higurashi, Fishes of Japan (in Japanese) (Tokyo, 1903, in progress). Numerous papers by D. S. Jordan, in collaboration with J. O. Snyder, E. C. Starks, H. W. Fowler and N. Sindo. (K) East Indies: F. Day, The Fauna of British India: Fishes (2 vols., London, 1889) (chiefly an abridgment of the author’s Fishes of India); M. Weber, “Die Süsswasserfische des Indischen Archipels,” Zool. Ergebnisse e. Reise in Niederl. Ostind. iii. (Leiden, 1894). Numerous contributions to the fauna of the Malay Peninsula and Archipelago by G. A. Boulenger, L. Vaillant, F. Steindachner, G. Duncker, W. Volz and C. L. Popta. (L) Africa: G. A. Boulenger, Matériaux pour la faune du Congo: poissons nouveaux (Brussels, 1898-1902, in progress); and Poissons du bassin du Congo (Brussels, 1901); G. Pfeffer, Die Thierwelt Ostafrikas: Fische (Berlin, 1896); A. Günther, G. A. Boulenger, G. Pfeffer, F. Steindachner, D. Vinciguerra, J. Pellegrin and E. Lönnberg have published numerous contributions to the fish-fauna of tropical Africa in various periodicals. The marine fishes of South Africa have received special attention on the part of J. D. F. Gilchrist, Marine Investigations in South Africa, i. and ii. (1898-1904), and new species have been described by G. A. Boulenger and C. T. Regan. (M) North America: D. S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, The Fishes of North and Middle America (4 vols., Washington, 1896-1900); D. S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, American Food and Game Fishes (New York, 1902); D. S. Jordan and C. H. Gilbert “The Fishes of Bering Sea,” in Fur-Seals and Fur-Seal Islands (Washington, 1899); The U.S. Bureau of Fisheries (since 1903) has published annually a Report and a Bulletin, containing a vast amount of information on North American fishes and every subject having a bearing on the fisheries of the United States; S. E. Meek, “Fresh-water Fishes of Mexico,” Field Columb. Mus. Zool. v. (1904). (N) South America: C. H. and R. S. Eigenmann, “A Catalogue of the Fresh-water Fishes of South America,” Proc. U.S. Nat. Mus. 14 (Washington, 1891); the same authors, F. Steindachner, G. A. Boulenger, C. Berg and C. T. Regan have published contributions in periodicals on this fauna. (O) Australia: J. E. Tenison-Woods, Fish and Fisheries of New South Wales (Sydney, 1882); J. Douglas Ogilby, Edible Fishes and Crustaceans of New South Wales (Sydney, 1893); J. Douglas Ogilby and E. R. Waite are authors of numerous papers on Australian fishes in Proc. Linn. Soc. N.S. Wales and Rec. Austral. Mus. (P) South Pacific: D S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, “Shore Fishes of the Hawaiian Islands,” Bull. U.S. Fish. Comm. 23 (1905). (Q) Madagascar: H. E. Sauvage, Histoire physique, naturelle et politique de Madagascar, par A. Grandidier. xvi.; Poissons (Paris, 1891). (R) Oceanic Fishes: G. B. Goode and T. H. Bean, Oceanic Ichthyology (Washington, 1895); A. Günther, Deep-sea Fishes of the “Challenger” Expedition (London, 1887); C. H. Gilbert, “Deep-sea Fishes of the Hawaiian Islands,” Bull. U.S. Fish. Comm. 23 (1905); R. Collett, Norske Nordhavs Expedition: Fiske (Christiania, 1880); C. F. Lütken, Dijmphna-Togtets Zoologisk-botaniske Udbytte: Kara-Havets Fiske (Copenhagen, 1886); L. Vaillant, Expéditions scientifiques du “Travailleur” et du “Talisman”: Poissons (Paris, 1888); A. Agassiz, Three Cruises of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey Steamer “Blake” (Boston and New York, 1888); A. Alcock, Illustrations of the Zoology of H.M.S. “Investigator”: Fishes (Calcutta, 1892-1899, in progress); A. Alcock, Descriptive Catalogue of the Indian Deep-sea Fishes in the Indian Museum (Calcutta, 1899, contains references to all the previous papers of the author on the subject); R. Collett, Résultats des campagnes scientifiques accomplies par Albert Ier prince de Monaco: poissons provenant des campagnes du yacht “l’Hirondelle,” (Monaco, 1896); R. Koehler, Résultats scientifiques de la campagne du “Caudan,” (Paris, 1896); C. H. Gilbert and F. Cramer, “Report on the Fishes dredged in Deep Water near the Hawaiian Islands,” Proc. U.S. Nat. Mus. xix. (Washington, 1896); C. Lütken, “Spolia Atlantica,” Vidensk. Selsk. Skr. vii. and ix. (Copenhagen, 1892-1898); C. Lütken, Danish Ingolf Expedition, ii.: Ichthyological Results (Copenhagen, 1898); S. Garman, “Reports on an Exploration off the West Coast of Mexico, Central and South America, and off the Galapagos Islands in charge of Alexander Agassiz, by the U.S. Fish Commission Steamer “Albatross,” during 1891,” Mem. Mus. Comp. Zool. vol. xxiv. (Cambridge, U.S.A., 1899). (S) Antarctic Fishes: G. A. Boulenger, Report on the Collections made during the voyage of the “Southern Cross”: Fishes (London, 1902); L. Dollo, Expédition Antarctique Belge (S.Y. “Belgica”). Poissons (Antwerp, 1904); E. Lönnberg, Swedish South Polar Expedition: Fishes (Stockholm, 1905); G. A. Boulenger, Fishes of the “Discovery” Antarctic Expedition (London, 1906).

Authorities.—The following list includes a very wide range of ichthyological literature published between 1880 and 1906, which will add to the bibliographical note attached to section I. I. The General Subject: A. Günther, Introduction to the Study of Fishes (Edinburgh, 1880); B. Dean, Fishes Living and Fossil (New York, 1895); T. W. Bridge and G. A. Boulenger, “Fishes,” Cambridge Natural History, vii. (1904); D. S. Jordan, Guide to the Study of Fishes (2 vols., New York, 1905). II. Palaeontological: A. Fritsch, Fauna der Gaskohle und der Kalksteine der Permformation Böhmens (vols. i.-iii., Prague, 1879-1894); K. A. von Zittel, Handbuch der Paläontologie, vol. iii. (Munich, 1887); A. Smith Woodward, Catalogue of Fossil Fishes in the British Museum, vols. i.-iii. (London, 1889-1895); A. Smith Woodward, Outlines of Vertebrate Palaeontology for Students of Zoology (Cambridge, 1898); J. S. Newberry, “The Palaeozoic Fishes of North America,” Mon. U.S. Geol. Surv. vol. xvi. (1889); J. V. Rohon, “Die obersilurischen Fische von Ösel, Thyestidae und Tremataspidae,” Mém. Ac. Imp. Sc. St-Pétersb. xxxviii. (1892); O. Jaekel, Die Selachier von Bolca, ein Beitrag zur Morphogenie der Wirbeltiere (Berlin, 1894); B. Dean, “Contributions to the Morphology of Cladoselache,” Journ. Morphol. ix. (1894); R. H. Traquair, “The Asterolepidae,” Mon. Palaeont. Soc. (1894-1904, in progress); “Report on Fossil Fishes collected by the Geological Survey of Scotland in the Silurian Rocks of the South of Scotland,” Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin. xxxix. (1899); L. Dollo, “Sur la phylogénie des Dipneustes,” Bull. Soc. Belge Géol. vol. ix. (1895); E. W. Claypole, “The Ancestry of the Upper Devonian Placoderms of Ohio,” Amer. Geol. xvii. (1896); B. Dean, “Palaeontlogical Notes,” Mem. N.Y. Ac. ii. (1901); A. Stewart and S. W. Williston, “Cretaceous Fishes of Kansas,” Univ. Geol. Surv. Kansas, vi. (Topeka, 1901); A. S. Woodward, “Fossil Fishes of the English Chalk,” Palaeontogr. Soc. (1902-1903, etc.); R. H. Traquair, “The Lower Devonian Fishes of Gemünden.,” Roy. Soc. Edin. Trans. 40 (1903); W. J. and I. B. J. Sollas, “Account of the Devonian Fish Palaeospondylus,” Phil. Trans. 196 (1903); C. T. Regan, “Phylogeny of the Teleostomi,” Ann. & Mag. N.H. (7) 13 (1904); C. R. Eastman, “Fishes of Monte Bolca,” Bull. Mus. C.Z. 46 (1904); “Structure and Relations of Mylostoma,” Op. cit. 2 (1906); O. Abel, “Fossile Flugfische,” Jahrb. Geol. Reichsanst. 56 (Wien, 1906); L. Hussakof. “Studies on the Arthrodira,” Mem. Amer. Mus. N.H. ix. (1906). III. Faunistic (recent fishes): (A) Europe: E. Bade, Die mitteleuropäischen Süsswasserfische (2 vols., Berlin, 1901-1902). UK: F. Day, The Fishes of Great Britain and Ireland (2 vols., London, 1880-1884); J. T. Cunningham, The Natural History of the Marketable Marine Fishes of the British Islands (London, 1896); W. C. M’Intosh and A. T. Masterman, The Life-Histories of the British Marine Food-Fishes (London, 1897); Sir H. Maxwell, British Fresh-water Fish (London, 1904); F. G. Aflalo, British Salt-water Fish (London, 1904). Numerous important studies on development, life conditions, and distributions have been published by W. L. Calderwood, J. T. Cunningham, E. W. L. Holt, W. C. M’Intosh, J. W. Fulton, W. Garstang, and Prince in the Journ. Mar. Biolog. Assoc., The Reports of the Fishery Board of Scotland, Scient. Trans. R. Dublin Soc. and other journals. (B) Denmark and Scandinavia: W. Lilljeborg, Sveriges och Norges Fiskar (3 vols., Upsala, 1881-1891); F. A. Smith, A History of Scandinavian Fishes by B. Fries, C. U. Ekström, and C. Sundevall, with Plates by W. von Wright (second edition, revised and completed by F. A. S., Stockholm, 1892); A. Stuxberg, Sveriges och Norges Fiskar (Göteborg, 1895); C. G. J. Petersen, Report of the Danish Biological Station (Copenhagen, 1802-1900) (annual reports with extensive information on fishes and fishing in the Danish seas). (C) Finland: G. Sundman and A. J. Mela, Finland’s Fiskar (Helsingfors, 1883-1891). (D) Germany: K. Möbius and F. Heincke, “Die Fische der Ostsee,” Bericht Commiss. Untersuch. deutsch. Meere (Kiel, 1883); F. Heincke, E. Ehrenbaum and G. Duncker published studies on the life history and development of the fishes of Heligoland in Wissenschaftl. Meeresuntersuchungen (Kiel and Leipzig, 1894-1899); (E) Switzerland: V. Fatio, Faune des vertébrés de la Suisse: Poissons (2 vols., Geneva and Basel, 1882-1890). (F) France: E. Moreau, Histoire naturelle des poissons de la France (3 vols., Paris, 1881); Supplément (Paris, 1891). (G) Pyrenees Peninsula: D. Carlos de Bragança, Resultados das investigações scientificas feitas a bordo do yacht “Amelia.” Pescas maritimas, i. and ii. (Lisbon, 1899-1904). (H) Italy and the Med: P. Döderlein, Manuale ittiologico del Mediterraneo (Palermo, 1881-1891, not completed; interrupted 250 by the author's death); E. W. L. Holt, “Recherches sur la reproduction des poissons osseux, principalement dans le golfe de Marseille,” Ann. Mus. Mars. v. (Marseilles, 1899); (I) Western and Central Asia: L. Lortet, “Poissons et reptiles du lac de Tibériade,” Arch. Mus. d’Hist. Nat. Lyon, iii. (1883); S. Herzenstein, Wissenschaftliche Resultate der von N. M. Przewalski nach Central Asien unternommenen Reisen: Fische (St Petersburg, 1888-1891); L. Berg, Fishes of Turkestan (Russian text, St Petersburg, 1905); G. Radde, S. Kamensky, and F. F. Kawraisky have worked out the Cyprinids and Salmonids of the Caucasus (Tiflis, 1896-1899). (J) Japan: F. Steindachner and L. Döderlein, “Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Fische Japans,” Denkschr. Ak. Wien, (vols. 67 and 68, 1883); K. Otaki, T. Fujita, and T. Higurashi, Fishes of Japan (in Japanese) (Tokyo, 1903, in progress). Numerous papers by D. S. Jordan, in collaboration with J. O. Snyder, E. C. Starks, H. W. Fowler, and N. Sindo. (K) Southeast Asia: F. Day, The Fauna of British India: Fishes (2 vols., London, 1889) (mainly an abridgment of the author’s Fishes of India); M. Weber, “Die Süsswasserfische des Indischen Archipels,” Zool. Ergebnisse e. Reise in Niederl. Ostind. iii. (Leiden, 1894). Numerous contributions to the fauna of the Malay Peninsula and Archipelago by G. A. Boulenger, L. Vaillant, F. Steindachner, G. Duncker, W. Volz, and C. L. Popta. (L) Africa: G. A. Boulenger, Matériaux pour la faune du Congo: poissons nouveaux (Brussels, 1898-1902, in progress); and Poissons du bassin du Congo (Brussels, 1901); G. Pfeffer, Die Thierwelt Ostafrikas: Fische (Berlin, 1896); A. Günther, G. A. Boulenger, G. Pfeffer, F. Steindachner, D. Vinciguerra, J. Pellegrin, and E. Lönnberg have published numerous contributions to the fish fauna of tropical Africa in various journals. The marine fishes of South Africa have been particularly studied by J. D. F. Gilchrist, Marine Investigations in South Africa, i. and ii. (1898-1904), and new species have been described by G. A. Boulenger and C. T. Regan. (M) North America: D. S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, The Fishes of North and Middle America (4 vols., Washington, 1896-1900); D. S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, American Food and Game Fishes (New York, 1902); D. S. Jordan and C. H. Gilbert “The Fishes of Bering Sea,” in Fur-Seals and Fur-Seal Islands (Washington, 1899); The U.S. Bureau of Fisheries (since 1903) has published an annual Report and a Bulletin, containing extensive information on North American fishes and all topics related to the fisheries of the United States; S. E. Meek, “Fresh-water Fishes of Mexico,” Field Columb. Mus. Zool. v. (1904). (N) South America: C. H. and R. S. Eigenmann, “A Catalogue of the Fresh-water Fishes of South America,” Proc. U.S. Nat. Mus. 14 (Washington, 1891); the same authors, F. Steindachner, G. A. Boulenger, C. Berg, and C. T. Regan have published articles in journals regarding this fauna. (O) Australia: J. E. Tenison-Woods, Fish and Fisheries of New South Wales (Sydney, 1882); J. Douglas Ogilby, Edible Fishes and Crustaceans of New South Wales (Sydney, 1893); J. Douglas Ogilby and E. R. Waite are co-authors of numerous papers on Australian fishes in Proc. Linn. Soc. N.S. Wales and Rec. Austral. Mus. (P) South Pacific: D S. Jordan and B. W. Evermann, “Shore Fishes of the Hawaiian Islands,” Bull. U.S. Fish. Comm. 23 (1905). (Q) Madagascar: H. E. Sauvage, Histoire physique, naturelle et politique de Madagascar, par A. Grandidier. xvi.; Poissons (Paris, 1891). (R) Ocean Fish: G. B. Goode and T. H. Bean, Oceanic Ichthyology (Washington, 1895); A. Günther, Deep-sea Fishes of the “Challenger” Expedition (London, 1887); C. H. Gilbert, “Deep-sea Fishes of the Hawaiian Islands,” Bull. U.S. Fish. Comm. 23 (1905); R. Collett, Norske Nordhavs Expedition: Fiske (Christiania, 1880); C. F. Lütken, Dijmphna-Togtets Zoologisk-botaniske Udbytte: Kara-Havets Fiske (Copenhagen, 1886); L. Vaillant, Expéditions scientifiques du “Travailleur” et du “Talisman”: Poissons (Paris, 1888); A. Agassiz, Three Cruises of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey Steamer “Blake” (Boston and New York, 1888); A. Alcock, Illustrations of the Zoology of H.M.S. “Investigator”: Fishes (Calcutta, 1892-1899, in progress); A. Alcock, Descriptive Catalogue of the Indian Deep-sea Fishes in the Indian Museum (Calcutta, 1899, contains references to all the previous papers of the author on the subject); R. Collett, Résultats des campagnes scientifiques accomplies par Albert Ier prince de Monaco: poissons provenant des campagnes du yacht “l’Hirondelle,” (Monaco, 1896); R. Koehler, Résultats scientifiques de la campagne du “Caudan,” (Paris, 1896); C. H. Gilbert and F. Cramer, “Report on the Fishes dredged in Deep Water near the Hawaiian Islands,” Proc. U.S. Nat. Mus. xix. (Washington, 1896); C. Lütken, “Spolia Atlantica,” Vidensk. Selsk. Skr. vii. and ix. (Copenhagen, 1892-1898); C. Lütken, Danish Ingolf Expedition, ii.: Ichthyological Results (Copenhagen, 1898); S. Garman, “Reports on an Exploration off the West Coast of Mexico, Central and South America, and off the Galapagos Islands in charge of Alexander Agassiz, by the U.S. Fish Commission Steamer “Albatross,” during 1891,” Mem. Mus. Comp. Zool. vol. xxiv. (Cambridge, U.S.A., 1899). (S) Antarctic Fish: G. A. Boulenger, Report on the Collections made during the voyage of the “Southern Cross”: Fishes (London, 1902); L. Dollo, Expédition Antarctique Belge (S.Y. “Belgica”). Poissons (Antwerp, 1904); E. Lönnberg, Swedish South Polar Expedition: Fishes (Stockholm, 1905); G. A. Boulenger, Fishes of the “Discovery” Antarctic Expedition (London, 1906).

(G. A. B.)

III. Definition of the Class Pisces. Its Principal Divisions

III. Class Definition Pisces. Main Sections

Fishes, constituting the class Pisces, may be defined as Craniate Vertebrata, or Chordata, in which the anterior portion of the central nervous system is expanded into a brain surrounded by an unsegmented portion of the axial skeleton; which are provided with a heart, breathing through gills; and in which the limbs, if present, are in the form of fins, as opposed to the pentadactyle, structure common to the other Vertebrata. With the exception of a few forms in which lungs are present in addition to the gills, thus enabling the animal to breathe atmospheric air for more or less considerable periods (Dipneusti), all fishes are aquatic throughout their existence.

Fishes, belonging to the class Pisces, can be described as Craniate Vertebrates or Chordates, where the front part of the central nervous system is expanded into a brain surrounded by an unsegmented part of the axial skeleton. They have a heart and breathe through gills, and if they have limbs, they take the form of fins, unlike the five-fingered structure found in other Vertebrates. Except for a few types that have lungs in addition to gills, allowing them to breathe air for varying amounts of time (Dipneusti), all fishes live in water throughout their lives.

In addition to the paired limbs, median fins are usually present, consisting of dermal rays borne by endoskeletal supports, which in the more primitive forms are strikingly similar in structure to the paired fins that are assumed to have arisen from the breaking up of a lateral fold similar to the vertical folds out of which the dorsal, anal and caudal fins have been evolved. The body is naked, or scaly, or covered with bony shields or hard spines.

In addition to the paired limbs, median fins are typically present, made up of dermal rays supported by endoskeletal structures. In more primitive forms, these are notably similar in structure to the paired fins, which are thought to have developed from the separation of a lateral fold—similar to the vertical folds that gave rise to the dorsal, anal, and caudal fins. The body can be naked, scaly, or covered with bony shields or hard spines.

Leaving aside the Ostracophori, which are dealt with in a separate article, the fishes may be divided into three subclasses—

Leaving aside the Ostracophori, which are covered in a separate article, fish can be divided into three subclasses—

I. Cyclostomi or Marsipobranchii, with the skull imperfectly developed, without jaws, with a single nasal aperture, without paired fins, and with an unpaired fin without dermal rays. Lampreys and hag-fishes.

I. Cyclostomi or Marsipobranchii, with an underdeveloped skull, lacking jaws, featuring a single nasal opening, no paired fins, and an unpaired fin without dermal rays. Lampreys and hagfish.

II. Selachii or Chondropterygii, with the skull well developed but without membrane bones, with paired nasal apertures, with median and paired fins, the ventrals bearing prehensile organs (claspers) in the males. Sharks, skates and chimaeras.

II. Selachii or Chondropterygii, with a well-developed skull but no membrane bones, featuring paired nasal openings, median and paired fins, and ventral fins that have grabbing organs (claspers) in the males. Sharks, skates, and chimaeras.

III. Teleostomi, with the skull well developed and with membrane bones, with paired nasal apertures, primarily with median and paired fins, including all other fishes.

III. Teleostomi, featuring a well-developed skull and membrane bones, with paired nostrils, mainly having median and paired fins, including all other fish.

(G. A. B.)

IV. Anatomy1

IV. Anatomy1

The special importance of a study of the anatomy of fishes lies in the fact that fishes are on the whole undoubtedly the most archaic of existing craniates, and it is therefore to them especially that we must look for evidence as to the evolutionary history of morphological features occurring in the higher groups of vertebrates.

The special importance of studying fish anatomy lies in the fact that fish are generally the most primitive of all current craniates, so we should especially turn to them for evidence regarding the evolutionary history of the morphological traits found in higher vertebrate groups.

In making a general survey of the morphology of fishes it is essential to take into consideration the structure of the young developing individual (embryology) as well as that of the adult (comparative anatomy in the narrow sense). Palaeontology is practically dumb excepting as regards external form and skeletal features, and even of these our knowledge must for long be in a hopelessly imperfect state. While it is of the utmost importance to pay due attention to embryological data it is equally important to consider them critically and in conjunction with broad morphological considerations. Taken by themselves they are apt to be extremely misleading.

In doing a general overview of fish morphology, it's crucial to consider the structure of the young developing individual (embryology) as well as that of the adult (comparative anatomy in a specific sense). Paleontology is pretty limited, only offering insights into external shape and skeletal features, and even then, our understanding will likely be quite imperfect for a long time. While it's very important to pay proper attention to embryological data, it's just as essential to examine them critically and alongside broader morphological ideas. Looking at them on their own can be very misleading.

External Features.—The external features of a typical fish are intimately associated with its mode of life. Its shape is more or less that of a spindle; its surface is covered with a highly glandular epidermis, which is constantly producing lubricating mucus through the agency of which skin-friction is reduced to an extraordinary degree; and finally it possesses a set of remarkable propelling organs or fins.

External Features.—The external features of a typical fish are closely linked to how it lives. Its shape is generally spindle-like; its surface is covered with a highly glandular skin that continuously produces lubricating mucus, which greatly reduces friction; and lastly, it has a set of impressive fins that help it move.

The exact shape varies greatly from the typical spindle shape with variations in the mode of life; e.g. bottom-living fishes may be much flattened from above downwards as in the rays, or from side to side in the Pleuronectids such as flounder, plaice or sole, or the shape may be much elongated as in the eels.

The exact shape differs significantly from the usual spindle shape, depending on their lifestyle; e.g. bottom-dwelling fish can be flattened from top to bottom like rays, or from side to side in Pleuronectids like flounder, plaice, or sole, or the shape may be elongated like eels.

Head, Trunk and Tail.—In the body of the fish we may recognize the three main sub-divisions of the body—head, trunk and tail—as in the higher vertebrates, but there is no definite narrowing of the anterior region to form a neck such as occurs in the higher groups, though a suspicion of such a narrowing occurs in the young Lepidosiren.

Head, Trunk and Tail.—In the body of the fish, we can identify the three main parts—head, trunk, and tail—similar to higher vertebrates. However, there isn’t a distinct narrowing of the front area to create a neck like in the higher groups, although a hint of such narrowing appears in young Lepidosiren.

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The tail, or postanal region, is probably a secondary development—a prolongation of the hinder end of the body for motor purposes. This is indicated by the fact that it frequently develops late in ontogeny.

The tail, or postanal region, is likely a secondary development—a lengthening of the back end of the body for movement purposes. This is shown by the fact that it often develops late in individual growth.

The vertebrate, in correlation perhaps with its extreme cephalization, develops from before backwards (except the alimentary canal, which develops more en bloc), there remaining at the hind end for a prolonged period a mass of undifferentiated embryonic tissue from the anterior side of which the definitive tissues are constantly being developed. After development has reached the level of the anus it still continues backwards and the tail region is formed, showing a continuation of the same tissues as in front, notochord, nerve cord, gut, myotomes. Of these the (postanal) gut soon undergoes atrophy.

The vertebrate, possibly in relation to its high level of head development, grows from the front to the back (except for the digestive tract, which develops more as a whole). There remains a lump of undifferentiated embryonic tissue at the back end for an extended period, from which the definitive tissues are continuously evolving. Once development has progressed to the anus, it still continues backwards, forming the tail area, which includes the same tissues as in the front: notochord, nerve cord, gut, and muscle segments. Among these, the (postanal) gut quickly starts to shrink.

Fins.—The fins are extensions of the body surface which serve for propulsion. To give the necessary rigidity they are provided with special skeletal elements, while to give mobility they are provided with special muscles. These muscles, like the other voluntary muscles of the body, are derived from the primitive myotomes and are therefore segmental in origin. The fins are divisible into two main categories—the median or unpaired fins and the paired fins.

Fins.—Fins are extensions of the body surface that help with movement. They have special skeletal structures for support and unique muscles for flexibility. These muscles, similar to other voluntary muscles in the body, come from the basic muscle segments and are thus segmental in origin. Fins can be divided into two main types: median or unpaired fins and paired fins.

Fig. 1.—Heterocercal Tail of Acipenser. a, Modified median scales (“fulcra”); b, bony plates.
From Cambridge Natural History, vol. vii., “Fishes, &c.,” by permission of Messrs. Macmillan & Co., Ltd.
Fig. 2.Cladoselache. (After Dean.)
From “ChallengerReports Zool., published by H.M. Stationery Office.
Fig. 3.Chlamydoselachus. (After Günther.)

The median fins are to be regarded as the more primitive. The fundamental structure of the vertebrate, with its median skeletal axis and its great muscular mass divided into segments along each side of the body, indicates that its primitive method of movement was by waves of lateral flexure, as seen in an Amphioxus, a cyclostome or an eel. The system of median fins consists in the first instance of a continuous fin-fold extending round the posterior end of the body—as persists even in the adult in the existing Dipneusti. A continuous median fin-fold occurs also in various Teleosts (many deep-sea Teleosts, eels, &c.), though the highly specialized features in other respects make it probable that we have here to do with a secondary return to a condition like the primitive one. In the process of segmentation of the originally continuous fin-fold we notice first of all a separation of and an increase in size of that portion of the fin which from its position at the tip of the tail region is in the most advantageous position for producing movements of the body. There is thus formed the caudal fin. In this region there is a greatly increased size of the fin-fold—both dorsally and ventrally. There is further developed a highly characteristic asymmetry. In the original symmetrical or protocercal (= diphycercal) type of tail (as seen in a cyclostome, a Dipnoan and in most fish embryos) the skeletal axis of the body runs straight out to its tip—the tail fold being equally developed above and below the axis. In the highly developed caudal fin of the majority of fishes, however, the fin-fold is developed to a much greater extent on the ventral side, and correlated with this the skeletal axis is turned upwards as in the heterocercal tail of sharks and sturgeons. The highest stage in this evolution of the caudal fin is seen in the Teleostean fishes, where the ventral tail-fold becomes developed to such an extent as to produce a secondarily symmetrical appearance (homocercal tail, fig. 4).

The median fins are considered more primitive. The basic structure of vertebrates, with a central skeletal axis and a large muscular mass divided into segments on each side of the body, suggests that their original way of moving was through waves of side-to-side bending, similar to what we see in an Amphioxus, a cyclostome, or an eel. The median fin system initially consists of a continuous fin fold that wraps around the rear end of the body, which still exists in adult Dipneusti. We also see a continuous median fin fold in various Teleosts (many deep-sea Teleosts, eels, etc.), although the specialized features in other areas suggest this might be a secondary return to a more primitive state. In the process of separating the originally continuous fin fold, we first notice an increase in size of the part of the fin located at the tip of the tail, which is best positioned for generating movement. This creates the caudal fin. In this area, the fin fold becomes much larger—both above and below. There also develops a distinct asymmetry. In the original symmetrical or protocercal (also known as diphycercal) type of tail (as seen in a cyclostome, a Dipnoan, and in most fish embryos), the body’s skeletal axis runs straight to the tip, with the tail fold evenly developed above and below the axis. However, in most fish, the highly developed caudal fin has the fin fold much larger on the underside, which causes the skeletal axis to tilt upward, as seen in the heterocercal tails of sharks and sturgeons. The most advanced stage of evolution of the caudal fin is seen in Teleostean fishes, where the ventral tail fold grows so large that it creates a secondarily symmetrical look (known as a homocercal tail, fig. 4).

The sharks have been referred to as possessing heterocercal tails, but, though this is true of the majority, within the limits of the group all three types of tail-fin occur, from the protocercal tail of the fossil Pleuracanthids and the living Chlamydoselachus to the highly developed, practically homocercal tail of the ancient Cladoselache(fig. 2).

The sharks are often described as having heterocercal tails, and while that's accurate for most, there are actually three types of tail fins within the group. This ranges from the protocercal tail of the fossil Pleuracanthids and the living Chlamydoselachus to the highly developed, nearly homocercal tail of the ancient Cladoselache (fig. 2).

The praecaudal portion of the fin-fold on the dorsal side of the body becomes broken into numerous finlets in living Crossopterygians, while in other fishes it disappears throughout part of its length, leaving only one, two or three enlarged portions—the dorsal fins (fig. 4, d.f.). Similarly the praecaudal part of the fin-fold ventrally becomes reduced to a single anal fin (a.f.), occasionally continued backwards by a series of finlets (Scombridae). In the sucker-fishes (Remora, Eckeneis) the anterior dorsal fin is metamorphosed into a sucker by which the creature attaches itself to larger fishes, turtles, &c.

The front part of the fin fold on the back side of the body gets split into many small finlets in living Crossopterygians, while in other fish it disappears over part of its length, leaving only one, two, or three enlarged sections—the dorsal fins (fig. 4, d.f.). Likewise, the front part of the fin fold on the underside reduces to a single anal fin (a.f.), which may sometimes extend backward with a series of finlets (Scombridae). In sucker-fishes (Remora, Eckeneis), the front dorsal fin transforms into a sucker that allows the animal to attach itself to larger fish, turtles, etc.

From Cambridge Natural History, vol. vii., “Fishes, &c.,” by permission of Messrs. Macmillan & Co., Ltd.
Fig. 4.Tilapia dolloi, a teleostean fish, to illustrate external features. (After Boulenger.)

A, Side view.

A, Side view.

B, First branchial arch.

B, First gill arch.

a.f, Anal fin.

Anal fin.

c.f, Caudal fin.

c.f., tail fin.

d.f, Dorsal fin.

Dorsal fin.

g.f, Gill lamellae.

g.f, Gill filaments.

g.r, Gill rakers.

Gill rakers.

l.l, Lateral line organs.

Lateral line organs.

n, Nasal opening.

Nostril

p.f, Pelvic fin.

P.f., pelvic fin.

p.op, Preoperculum.

p.op, Preop.

pt.f, Pectoral fin.

Pectoral fin.

The paired fins—though more recent developments than the median—are yet of very great morphological interest, as in them we are compelled to recognize the homologues of the paired limbs of the higher vertebrates. We accordingly distinguish the two pairs of fins as pectoral or anterior and pelvic (= “ventral”) or posterior. There are two main types of paired fin—the archipterygial type, a paddle-like structure supported by a jointed axis which bears lateral rays and exists in an unmodified form in Neoceratodus alone amongst living fishes, and the actinopterygial type, supported by fine raylike structures as seen in the fins of any ordinary fish. The relatively 252 less efficiency of the archipterygium and its predominance amongst the more ancient forms of fishes point to its being the more archaic of these two types.

The paired fins—though developed later than the median fins—are still of great interest in terms of their structure, as we must recognize them as the homologues of the paired limbs found in higher vertebrates. Therefore, we categorize the two pairs of fins as pectoral or anterior and pelvic (or “ventral”) or posterior. There are two main types of paired fins: the archipterygial type, which is a paddle-like structure supported by a jointed skeleton that has lateral rays and exists in an unmodified form only in Neoceratodus among living fish, and the actinopterygial type, which is supported by fine, ray-like structures found in the fins of most common fish. The relatively lower efficiency of the archipterygium and its prevalence among more ancient fish suggest that it is the more primitive of these two types.

In the less highly specialized groups of fishes the pectoral fins are close behind the head, the pelvic fins in the region of the cloacal opening. In the more specialized forms the pelvic fins frequently show a more or less extensive shifting towards the head, so that their position is described as thoracic (fig. 4) or jugular (Gadus—cod, haddock, &c., fig. 5).

In less specialized groups of fish, the pectoral fins are located just behind the head, while the pelvic fins are near the cloaca. In more specialized species, the pelvic fins often shift forward towards the head, so their position is referred to as thoracic (fig. 4) or jugular (Gadus—cod, haddock, etc., fig. 5).

Fig. 5.—Burbot (Lota vulgaris), with jugular ventral fins.

The median fin, especially in its caudal section, is the main propelling organ: the paired fins in the majority of fishes serve for balancing. In the Dipneusti the paired fins are used for clambering about amidst vegetation, much in the same fashion as the limbs of Urodeles. In Ceratodus they also function as paddles. In various Teleosts the pectoral fins have acquired secondarily a leg-like function, being used for creeping or skipping over the mud (Periophthalmus; cf. also Trigloids, Scorpaenids and Pediculati). In the “flying” fishes the pectoral fins are greatly enlarged and are used as aeroplanes, their quivering movements frequently giving a (probably erroneous) impression of voluntary flapping movements. In the gobies and lumpsuckers (Cyclopteridae) the pelvic fins are fused to form an adhesive sucker; in the Gobiesocidae they take part in the formation of a somewhat similar sucker.

The median fin, especially at the tail end, is the main propelling feature: the paired fins in most fish are used for balance. In lungfishes, the paired fins help them move through vegetation, similar to how salamanders use their limbs. In Ceratodus, they also act like paddles. In various bony fishes, the pectoral fins have taken on a leg-like role, being used to crawl or skip over the mud (Periophthalmus; see also Trigloids, Scorpaenids, and Pediculati). In the “flying” fish, the pectoral fins are significantly enlarged and function like wings, and their rapid movements often create a (likely misleading) impression of intentional flapping. In gobies and lumpsuckers (Cyclopteridae), the pelvic fins are fused to create a suction cup; in the Gobiesocidae, they also contribute to forming a similar sucker.

The evolutionary history of the paired limbs forms a fascinating chapter in vertebrate morphology. As regards their origin two hypotheses have attracted special attention: (1) that enunciated by Gegenbaur, according to which the limb is a modified gill septum, and (2) that supported by James K. Thacher, F. M. Balfour, St George Mivart and others, that the paired fins are persisting and modified portions of a once continuous fin-fold on each side of the body. The majority of morphologists are now inclined to accept the second of these views. Each has been supported by plausible arguments, for which reference must be made to the literature of the subject.2 Both views rest upon the assumed occurrence of stages for the existence of which there is no direct evidence, viz. in the case of (1) transitional stages between gill septum and limb, and in the case of (2) a continuous lateral fin-fold. (There is no evidence that the lateral row of spines in the acanthodian Climatius has any other than a defensive significance.) In the opinion of the writer of this article, such assumptions are without justification, now that our knowledge of Dipnoan and Crossopterygian and Urodele embryology points towards the former possession by the primitive vertebrate of a series of projecting, voluntarily movable, and hence potentially motor structure on each side of the body. It must be emphasized that these—the true external gills—are the only organs known actually to exist in vertebrates which might readily be transformed into limbs. When insuperable objections are adduced to this having actually taken place in the course of evolution, it will be time enough to fall back upon purely hypothetical ancestral structures on which to base the evolutionary history of the limbs.

The evolutionary history of paired limbs is a captivating part of vertebrate structure. Regarding their origin, two main hypotheses have gained particular attention: (1) the one proposed by Gegenbaur, which suggests that the limb is a modified gill septum, and (2) the view supported by James K. Thacher, F. M. Balfour, St. George Mivart, and others, which claims that paired fins are modified remnants of a once continuous fin fold on each side of the body. Most morphologists now lean toward accepting the second hypothesis. Both have been backed by convincing arguments, which can be found in the relevant literature. Both views rely on the assumption of stages that lack direct evidence, specifically (1) transitional stages between gill septum and limb, and (2) a continuous lateral fin fold. (There is no evidence that the lateral row of spines in the acanthodian Climatius serves any purpose other than for defense.) In the opinion of the author of this article, such assumptions are unjustified, given our understanding of Dipnoan, Crossopterygian, and Urodele embryology, which suggests that primitive vertebrates originally had a series of projecting, voluntarily movable structures on each side of their body. It should be stressed that these—the true external gills—are the only organs known to exist in vertebrates that could easily evolve into limbs. When substantial objections are raised against the idea that this transformation actually occurred during evolution, we can consider purely hypothetical ancestral structures as the basis for the evolutionary history of limbs.

The ectoderm covering the general surface is highly glandular. In the case of the Dipneusti, flask-shaped multicellular glands like those of Amphibians occur in addition to the scattered gland cells.

The ectoderm covering the overall surface is very glandular. In the case of the Dipneusti, flask-shaped multicellular glands, similar to those found in amphibians, appear alongside the scattered gland cells.

A characteristic feature of glandular activity is the production of a slight electrical disturbance. In the case of Malopterurus this elsewhere subsidiary function of the skin has become so exaggerated as to lead to the conversion of the skin of each side of the body into a powerful electrical organ.3 Each of these consists of some two million small chambers, each containing an electric disk and all deriving their nerve supply from the branches of a single enormous axis cylinder. This takes its origin from a gigantic ganglion cell situated latero-dorsally in the spinal cord between the levels of the first and second spinal nerves.

A key aspect of glandular activity is the generation of a slight electrical disturbance. In the case of Malopterurus, this secondary function of the skin has become so pronounced that it has transformed the skin on each side of the body into a powerful electrical organ.3 Each of these organs contains about two million tiny chambers, each with an electric disk, all receiving their nerve supply from the branches of a single large axis cylinder. This originates from a huge ganglion cell located on the side and back of the spinal cord, between the levels of the first and second spinal nerves.

Cement Organs.—The larvae of certain Teleostomes and Dipnoans possess special glandular organs in the head region for the secretion of a sticky cement by which the young fish is able to attach itself to water-plants or other objects. As a rule these are ectodermal in origin; e.g. in Lepidosiren and Protopterus4 the crescentic cement organ lying ventrally behind the mouth consists of a glandular thickening of the deep layer of the ectoderm. In young ganoid fishes preoral cement organs occur. In Crossopterygians there is one cup-shaped structure on each side immediately in front of the mouth. Here the glandular epithelium is endodermal, developed5 as an outgrowth from the wall of the alimentary canal, closely resembling a gill pouch. In Amia6 the same appears to be the case. In a few Teleosts similar organs occur, e.g. Sarcodaces, Hyperopisus,7 where so far as is known they are ectodermal.

Cement Organs.—The larvae of certain Teleostomes and Dipnoans have specialized glandular organs in their heads that secrete a sticky cement, allowing the young fish to attach themselves to water plants or other surfaces. Typically, these organs are made from ectoderm; e.g. in Lepidosiren and Protopterus4, the crescent-shaped cement organ located beneath the mouth is a thickened glandular area of the deep ectoderm layer. In young ganoid fishes, preoral cement organs can be found. In Crossopterygians, there is a cup-shaped structure on each side right in front of the mouth. Here, the glandular epithelium is endodermal, developed5 as an outgrowth from the wall of the digestive tract, closely resembling a gill pouch. In Amia6, this appears to be the case as well. A few Teleosts show similar organs, e.g. Sarcodaces, Hyperopisus7, where they are known to be ectodermal.

Photogenic Organs.—The slimy secretion produced by the epidermal glands of fishes contains in some cases substances which apparently readily undergo a slow process of oxidation, giving out light of low wave-length in the process and so giving rise to a phosphorescent appearance. In many deep-sea fishes this property of producing light-emitting secretion has undergone great development, leading to the existence of definite photogenic organs. These vary much in character, and much remains to be done in working out their minute structure. Good examples are seen in the Teleostean family Scopelidae, where they form brightly shining eye-like spots scattered about the surface of the body, especially towards the ventral side.

Photogenic Organs.—The slimy secretion produced by the skin glands of fish contains substances that can slowly oxidize, emitting low-wavelength light in the process, which creates a phosphorescent effect. In many deep-sea fish, this ability to produce light-emitting secretion has developed significantly, resulting in specialized photogenic organs. These organs vary greatly in their characteristics, and there is still much to discover regarding their detailed structure. Great examples can be found in the Teleostean family Scopelidae, where they form brightly shining, eye-like spots scattered across the body, especially on the underside.

From Trans. Zool. Soc. of London.
Fig. 6.—Larva of Polypterus. (After Budgett.)
From Phil. Transactions, Royal Society of London.
Fig. 7.—Thirty Days’ Larval Lepidosiren. (After Graham Kerr.)

External Gills.—In young Crossopterygians and in the young Protopterus and Lepidosiren true external gills occur of the same morphological nature as those of Urodele amphibians. In Crossopterygians a single one is present on each side on the hyoid arch; in the two Dipnoans mentioned four are present on each side—on visceral arches III., IV., V. and VI. (It may be recalled that in Urodeles they occur on arches III., IV. and V., with vestiges8 on arches I. and II.). Each external gill develops as a projection of ectoderm with mesodermal core near the upper end of its visceral arch; the main aortic arch is prolonged into it as a loop. When fully developed it is pinnate, and is provided with voluntary muscles by which it can be moved freely to renew the water in contact with its respiratory surface. In the case of Polypterus a short rod of cartilage projects from the hyoid arch into the base of the external gill. Their occurrence with identical main features in the three groups mentioned indicates that the external gills are important and archaic organs of the vertebrata. Their non-occurrence in at least some of the groups where they are absent is to be explained by the presence of a large vascular yolk sac, which necessarily fulfils in a very efficient way the respiratory function.

External Gills.—In young Crossopterygians and in the young Protopterus and Lepidosiren, true external gills are present with the same structure as those of Urodele amphibians. In Crossopterygians, there is one gill on each side of the hyoid arch; in the two mentioned Dipnoans, there are four on each side—on visceral arches III, IV, V, and VI. (It’s worth noting that in Urodeles, they are found on arches III, IV, and V, with remnants 8 on arches I and II.) Each external gill forms as an outgrowth of ectoderm with a mesodermal core near the top end of its visceral arch; the main aortic arch extends into it as a loop. When fully developed, it is feather-like and has voluntary muscles that allow it to move freely to refresh the water in contact with its respiratory surface. In the case of Polypterus, a short cartilage rod extends from the hyoid arch into the base of the external gill. The presence of these external gills with similar main characteristics in the three mentioned groups suggests that they are significant and ancient organs in vertebrates. Their absence in some groups can be explained by the existence of a large vascular yolk sac, which effectively takes over the respiratory function.

From Bridge, Cambridge Natural History, vol. vii., “Fishes, &c.” (by permisson of Macmillan & Co., Ltd.). After Boas, Lehrbuch der Zoologie (by permission of Gustav Fischer).
Fig. 8.—Diagrams to illustrate the relations of branchial clefts and pharynx in an Elasmobranch (A) and a Teleost (B); 1, 2, &c., Branchial septa.

b.c, Opercular cavity.

b.c, Mouth cavity.

b.l, Respiratory lamellae.

b.l, Breathing lamellae.

c, Coelom.

c, Coelom.

e.b.a, Opercular opening.

e.b.a, Opercular opening.

hy.a, Hyoid arch.

hy.a, hyoid arch.

hy.c, Hyobranchial cleft.

hy.c, hyobranchial groove.

l.s, Valvular outer edge of gill septum.

l.s, Outer edge of the gill septum.

n, Nasal aperture.

Nasal opening.

oes, Oesophagus.

oes, Esophagus.

op, Operculum.

op, Operculum.

p.q, Palato quadrate cartilage.

p.q, Quadrate palatal cartilage.

Ph, Pharynx.

Ph, Pharynx.

sp, Spiracle.

sp, Spiracle.

Alimentary Canal.—The alimentary canal forms a tube traversing the body from mouth to cloacal opening. Corresponding with structural and functional differences it is for descriptive 253 purposes divided into the following regions—(1) Buccal cavity or mouth cavity, (2) Pharynx, (3) Oesophagus or gullet, (4) Stomach, (5) Intestine, and (6) Cloaca. The buccal cavity or mouth cavity is morphologically a stomodaeum, i.e. it represents an inpushing of the external surface. Its opening to the exterior is wide and gaping in the embryo in certain groups (Selachians and Crossopterygians), and even in the adult among the Cyclostomata, but in the adult Gnathostome it can be voluntarily opened and shut in correlation with the presence of a hinged jaw apparatus. The mouth opening is less or more ventral in position in Cyclostomes and Selachians, while in Dipnoans and Teleostomes it is usually terminal.

Digestive Tract.—The digestive tract is a tube that runs through the body from the mouth to the cloacal opening. To account for various structural and functional differences, it is divided into the following regions for descriptive purposes—(1) Mouth or oral cavity, (2) Throat, (3) Esophagus, (4) Stomach, (5) Intestine, and (6) Cloaca. The mouth or oral cavity is morphologically a stomodaeum, i.e. it is an inward extension of the external surface. Its opening to the outside is wide and open in the embryo in certain groups (sharks and lobe-finned fish), and even in adults among jawless fish, but in adult jawed vertebrates, it can be opened and closed voluntarily due to the presence of a hinged jaw structure. The mouth opening is positioned more towards the underside in jawless fish and sharks, while in lungfish and bony fish, it is usually located at the end.

In certain cases (e.g. Lepidosiren)9 the buccal cavity arises by secondary excavation without any actual pushing in of ectoderm.

In some instances (e.g. Lepidosiren)9 the mouth cavity forms through secondary digging, without any actual folding in of the outer layer of cells.

It is highly characteristic of the vertebrata that the pharynx—the portion of the alimentary canal immediately behind the buccal cavity—communicates with the exterior by a series of paired clefts associated with the function of respiration and known as the visceral clefts. It is especially characteristic of fishes that a number of these clefts remain open as functional breathing organs in the adult.

It’s a key feature of vertebrates that the pharynx—the part of the digestive system right behind the mouth—connects to the outside through a set of paired openings linked to breathing, called the visceral clefts. It’s particularly typical of fish that several of these clefts stay open and serve as breathing organs in adults.

The visceral clefts arise as hollow pouches (or at first solid projections) of the endoderm. Each pouch fuses with the ectoderm at its outer end and then becomes perforated so as to form a free communication between pharynx and exterior.

The visceral clefts develop as hollow pouches (or initially solid projections) of the endoderm. Each pouch connects with the ectoderm at its outer end and then becomes perforated to create a direct link between the pharynx and the outside.

The mesenchymatous packing tissue between consecutive clefts forms the visceral arches, and local condensation within each gives rise to important skeletal elements—to which the name visceral arches is often restricted. From the particular skeletal structures which develop in the visceral arches bounding it the anterior cleft is known as the hyomandibular cleft, the next one as hyobranchial. In common usage the hyomandibular cleft is called the spiracle, and the series of clefts behind it the branchial clefts.

The mesenchymal tissue between the gaps forms the visceral arches, and the local thickening within each leads to important skeletal elements—often referred to as visceral arches. The specific skeletal structures that develop within the visceral arches surrounding it identify the anterior gap as the hyomandibular gap, while the next one is called hyobranchial. In everyday language, the hyomandibular gap is known as the spiracle, and the series of gaps behind it are called the branchial gaps.

The typical functional gill cleft forms a vertical slit, having on each side a gill septum which separates it from its neighbours in the series. The lining of the gill cleft possesses over a less or greater extent of its area a richly developed network of capillary blood-vessels, through the thin covering of which the respiratory exchange takes place between the blood and the water which washes through the gill cleft. The area of respiratory surface tends to become increased by the development of outgrowths. Frequently these take the form of regular plate-like structures known as gill lamellae. In the Selachians these lamellae are strap-like structures (Elasmobranch) attached along nearly their whole length to the gill septum as shown in fig. 8, A. In the Holocephali and in the sturgeon the outer portions of the gill septa have disappeared and this leads to the condition seen in the higher Teleostomes (fig. 8, B), where the whole of the septum has disappeared except its thick inner edge containing the skeletal arch. It follows that in these higher Teleostomes—including the ordinary Teleosts—the gill lamellae are attached only at their extreme inner end.

The typical functional gill cleft forms a vertical slit, with a gill septum on each side separating it from its neighbors in the series. The lining of the gill cleft has a well-developed network of capillary blood vessels, through which the respiratory exchange occurs between the blood and the water flowing through the gill cleft. The area for gas exchange tends to increase due to the development of outgrowths. These often take the shape of regular plate-like structures known as gill lamellae. In sharks (Elasmobranchs), these lamellae are strap-like structures attached along almost their entire length to the gill septum, as shown in fig. 8, A. In the chimeras and in sturgeons, the outer parts of the gill septa have disappeared, leading to the condition seen in higher bony fish (fig. 8, B), where the entire septum has disappeared except for its thick inner edge containing the skeletal arch. This means that in these higher bony fish—including regular bony fish—the gill lamellae are only attached at their extreme inner end.

In the young of Selachians and certain Teleosts (e.g. Gymnarchus and Heterotis)10 the gill lamellae are prolonged as filaments which project freely to the exterior. These must not be confused with true external gills.

In the young ones of Selachians and some Teleosts (for example, Gymnarchus and Heterotis) 10 the gill lamellae are extended into filaments that stick out into the open. These should not be mistaken for actual external gills.

The partial atrophy of the gill septa in the Teleostomes produces an important change in their appearance. Whereas in the Selachian a series of separate gill clefts is seen in external view each covered by a soft valvular backgrowth of its anterior lip, in the Teleostean fish, on the other hand, a single large opening is seen on each side (opercular opening) covered over by the enormously enlarged valvular flap belonging to the anterior lip of the hyobranchial cleft. This flap, an outgrowth of the hyoid arch, is known as the operculum.

The partial atrophy of the gill septa in Teleostomes leads to a significant change in their appearance. In Selachians, you can see a series of separate gill slits from the outside, each covered by a soft valve-like growth of its front lip. In contrast, Teleostean fish have a single large opening on each side (the opercular opening) that is covered by a greatly enlarged valve-like flap from the front lip of the hyobranchial cleft. This flap, which is an outgrowth of the hyoid arch, is called the operculum.

In the Teleostomi there are usually five functional clefts, but these are the survivors of a formerly greater number. Evidence of reduction is seen at both ends of the series. In front of the first functional cleft (the hyobranchial) there is laid down in the embryo the rudiment of a spiracular cleft. In the less highly organized fishes this survives in many cases as an open cleft.

In the Teleostomi, there are typically five working clefts, but these are what remains of a previously larger number. Signs of reduction can be observed at both ends of the series. In front of the first functional cleft (the hyobranchial), the embryo develops the beginning of a spiracular cleft. In less advanced fish, this often remains as an open cleft.

In many sharks and in sturgeons the spiracle forms a conspicuous opening just behind the eye. In rays and skates, which are modified in correlation with their ground feeding habit, the spiracle is a large opening which during the great widening out of the body during development comes to be situated on the dorsal side, while the branchial clefts come to be ventral in position. In existing Crossopterygians the spiracle is a slit-like opening on the dorsal side of the head which can be opened or closed at will. In Dipneusti, as in the higher Teleostomes, the spiracle is found as an embryonic rudiment, but in this case it gives rise in the adult to a remarkable sense organ of problematical function.11

In many sharks and sturgeons, the spiracle is a noticeable opening just behind the eye. In rays and skates, which are adapted for their bottom-feeding lifestyle, the spiracle is a large opening that, as the body expands during development, ends up on the top side, while the gill slits move to the underside. In current Crossopterygians, the spiracle is a slit-like opening on the top side of the head that can be opened or closed at will. In Dipneusti, similar to higher Teleostomes, the spiracle appears as an embryonic remnant, but in this case, it develops in adults into a remarkable sense organ of unclear function.11

Traces of what appear to be pre-spiracular clefts exist in the embryos of various forms. Perhaps the most remarkable of these is to be found in the larval Crossopterygian,12 and apparently also in Amia13 at least, amongst the other ganoids, where a pair of entodermal pouches become cut off from the main entoderm and, establishing an opening to the exterior, give rise to the lining of the cement organs of the larva. Posteriorily there is evidence that the extension backwards of the series of gill clefts was much greater in the primitive fishes. In the surviving sharks (Chlamydoselachus and Notidanus cinereus), there still exist in the adult respectively six and seven branchial clefts, while in embryonic Selachians there are frequently to be seen pouch-like outgrowths of entoderm apparently representing rudimentary gill pouches but which never develop. Further evidence of the progressive reduction in the series of clefts is seen in the reduction of their functional activity at the two ends of the series. The spiracle, even where persisting in the adult, has lost its gill lamellae either entirely or excepting a few vestigial lamellae forming a “pseudobranch” on its anterior wall (Selachians, sturgeons). A similar reduction affects the lamellae on the anterior wall of the hyobranchial cleft (except in Selachians) and on the posterior wall of the last branchial cleft.

Traces of what seem to be pre-spiracular clefts can be found in the embryos of various species. One of the most notable examples is in the larval Crossopterygian, 12, and apparently also in Amia 13, among other ganoids, where a pair of entodermal pouches become separated from the main entoderm, creating an opening to the exterior that leads to the lining of the cement organs of the larva. There’s evidence that the series of gill clefts extended much further back in primitive fish. In surviving sharks (Chlamydoselachus and Notidanus cinereus), there are still six and seven branchial clefts in adults, respectively. Meanwhile, in embryonic Selachians, pouch-like outgrowths of entoderm that seem to represent rudimentary gill pouches are often seen but never develop. Further evidence of the gradual reduction of these clefts can be observed in the decreasing functional activity at both ends of the series. The spiracle, even when it persists in adults, has either completely lost its gill lamellae or retains only a few vestigial lamellae that form a "pseudobranch" on its anterior wall (as seen in Selachians and sturgeons). A similar reduction affects the lamellae on the anterior wall of the hyobranchial cleft (except in Selachians) and on the posterior wall of the last branchial cleft.

A pseudobranch is frequently present in Teleostomes on the anterior wall of the hyobranchial cleft, i.e. on the inner or posterior face of the operculum. It is believed by some morphologists to belong really to the cleft in front.14

A pseudobranch is often found in Teleostomes on the front wall of the hyobranchial cleft, i.e. on the inner or back side of the operculum. Some morphologists think it actually belongs to the cleft in front.14

Phylogeny.—The phylogeny of the gill clefts or pouches is uncertain. The only organs of vertebrates comparable with them morphologically are the enterocoelic pouches of the entoderm which 254 give rise to the mesoderm. It is possible that the respiratory significance of the wall of the gill cleft has been secondarily acquired. This is indicated by the fact that they appear in some cases to be lined by an ingrowth of ectoderm. This suggests that there may have been a spreading inwards of respiratory surface from the external gills. It is conceivable that before their walls became directly respiratory the gill clefts served for the pumping of fresh water over the external gills at the bases of which they lie.

Phylogeny.—The phylogeny of the gill clefts or pouches is unclear. The only organs in vertebrates that are morphologically comparable to them are the enterocoelic pouches of the endoderm, which 254 develop into the mesoderm. It’s possible that the respiratory function of the gill cleft wall was acquired later. This is suggested by the fact that in some cases, they seem to be lined with an inward growth of ectoderm. This indicates that there might have been an expansion of respiratory surface from the external gills. It’s possible that before their walls became directly involved in respiration, the gill clefts were used for pumping fresh water over the external gills at their bases.

Fig. 9.—Lung of Neoceratodus, opened in its lower half to show its cellular pouches. a, Right half; b, Left half; c, Cellular pouches; e, Pulmonary vein; f, Arterial blood-vessel; oe, Oesophagus, opened to show glottis (gl.)

Lung.—As in the higher vertebrates, there develops in all the main groups of gnathostomatous fishes, except the Selachians, an outgrowth of the pharyngeal wall intimately associated with gaseous interchange. In the Crossopterygians and Dipnoans this pharyngeal outgrowth agrees exactly in its mid-ventral origin and in its blood-supply with the lungs of the higher vertebrates, and there can be no question about its being morphologically the same structure as it is also in function.

Lung.—Like in higher vertebrates, an outgrowth of the pharyngeal wall forms in all the main groups of jawed fishes, except for the sharks. In the lobe-finned fishes and lungfishes, this pharyngeal outgrowth has the same mid-ventral origin and blood supply as the lungs in higher vertebrates, confirming that it is morphologically the same structure, as well as functioning the same way.

In the Crossopterygian the ventrally placed slit-like glottis leads into a common chamber produced anteriorly into two horns and continued backwards into two “lungs.” These are smooth, thin-walled, saccular structures, the right one small, the left very large and extending to the hind end of the splanchnocoele. In the Dipnoans the lung has taken a dorsal position close under the vertebral column and above the splanchnocoele. Its walls are sacculated, almost spongy in Lepidosiren and Protopterus, so as to give increase to the respiratory surface. In Nexeratodus (fig. 9) an indication of division into two halves is seen in the presence of two prominent longitudinal ridges, one dorsal and one ventral. In Lepidosiren and Protopterus the organ is completely divided except at its anterior end into a right and a left lung. The anterior portion of the lung or lungs is connected with the median ventral glottis by a short wide vestibule which lies on the right side of the oesophagus.

In the Crossopterygian, the slit-like glottis positioned on the underside leads into a common chamber that extends forward into two horns and continues backward into two “lungs.” These are smooth, thin-walled, sac-like structures, the right one being small and the left one very large, reaching the back end of the splanchnocoele. In the Dipnoans, the lung has moved to a dorsal position, situated just beneath the vertebral column and above the splanchnocoele. Its walls are pouch-like, almost spongy in Lepidosiren and Protopterus, which increases the respiratory surface. In Nexeratodus (fig. 9), there’s a hint of division into two halves seen with two prominent longitudinal ridges, one on the dorsal side and one on the ventral side. In Lepidosiren and Protopterus, the organ is completely divided except at its front end into a right lung and a left lung. The front section of the lung or lungs connects to the median ventral glottis through a short, wide vestibule located on the right side of the esophagus.

In the Teleostei the representative of the lung, here termed the swimbladder, has for its predominant function a hydrostatic one; it acts as a float. It arises as a diverticulum of the gut-wall which may retain a tubular connexion with the gut (physostomatous condition) or may in the adult completely lose such connexion (physoclistic). It shows two conspicuous differences from the lung of other forms: (1) it arises in the young fish as a dorsal instead of as a ventral diverticulum, and (2) it derives its blood-supply not from the sixth aortic arch but from branches of the dorsal aorta.

In the Teleostei, the structure that represents the lung, called the swimbladder, primarily serves a hydrostatic function; it acts as a buoy. It develops as a pouch from the gut wall, which may maintain a tubular connection with the gut (physostomatous condition) or may completely lose that connection in adulthood (physoclistic). It has two notable differences from the lungs of other species: (1) in young fish, it develops as a dorsal pouch rather than a ventral one, and (2) its blood supply comes not from the sixth aortic arch but from branches of the dorsal aorta.

These differences are held by many to be sufficient to invalidate the homologizing of the swimbladder with the lung. The following facts, however, appear to do away with the force of such a contention. (1) In the Dipneusti (e.g. Neoceratodus) the lung apparatus has acquired a dorsal position, but its connexion with the mid-ventral glottis is asymmetrical, passing round the right side of the gut. Were the predominant function of the lung in such a form to become hydrostatic we might expect the course of evolution to lead to a shifting of the glottis dorsalwards so as to bring it nearer to the definitive situation of the lung. (2) In Erythrinus and other Characinids the glottis is not mid-ventral but decidedly lateral in position, suggesting either a retention of, or a return to, ancestral stages in the dorsalward migration of the glottis. (3) The blood-supply of the Teleostean swimbladder is from branches of the dorsal aorta, which may be distributed over a long anteroposterior extent of that vessel. Embryology, however, shows that the swimbladder arises as a localized diverticulum. It follows that the blood-supply from a long stretch of the aorta can hardly be primitive. We should rather expect the primitive blood-supply to be from the main arteries of the pharyngeal wall, i.e. from the hinder aortic arch as is the case with the lungs of other forms. Now in Amia at least we actually find such a blood-supply, there being here a pulmonary artery corresponding with that in lung-possessing forms. Taking these points into consideration there seems no valid reason for doubting that in lung and swimbladder we are dealing with the same morphological structure.

These differences are often seen as enough to disprove the comparison between the swim bladder and the lung. However, the following facts seem to undermine this argument. (1) In the Dipneusti (e.g., Neoceratodus), the lung structure has moved to a dorsal position, but its connection with the mid-ventral glottis is asymmetrical, wrapping around the right side of the gut. If the primary function of the lung in this form were to become hydrostatic, we might expect evolution to shift the glottis upwards to bring it closer to the final position of the lung. (2) In Erythrinus and other Characinids, the glottis is not located mid-ventrally but is distinctly lateral, suggesting either a retention of or a return to ancestral stages in the upward migration of the glottis. (3) The blood supply of the Teleostean swim bladder comes from branches of the dorsal aorta, which can extend over a long distance along that vessel. However, embryology shows that the swim bladder develops as a localized pouch. This implies that the blood supply from such a long stretch of the aorta is unlikely to be primitive. We would rather expect the original blood supply to come from the main arteries of the pharyngeal wall, i.e., from the posterior aortic arch, as is the case with the lungs in other forms. In Amia, we actually find such a blood supply, with a pulmonary artery corresponding to that in lung-bearing forms. Considering these points, there seems to be no valid reason to doubt that the lung and the swim bladder are essentially the same morphological structure.

Function.—In the Crossopterygians and Dipnoans the lung is used for respiration, while at the same time fulfilling a hydrostatic function. Amongst the Actinopterygians a few forms still use it for respiration, but its main function is that of a float. In connexion with this function there exists an interesting compensatory mechanism whereby the amount of gas in the swimbladder may be diminished (by absorption), or, on the other hand, increased, so as to counteract alterations in specific gravity produced, e.g. by change of pressure with change of depth. This mechanism is specially developed in physoclistic forms, where there occur certain glandular patches (“red glands”) in the lining epithelium of the swimbladder richly stuffed with capillary blood-vessels and serving apparently to secrete gas into the swimbladder. That the gas in the swimbladder is produced by some vital process, such as secretion, is already indicated by its composition, as it may contain nearly 90% of oxygen in deep-sea forms or a similar proportion of nitrogen in fishes from deep lakes, i.e. its composition is quite different from what it would be were it accumulated within the swimbladder by mere ordinary diffusion processes. Further, the formation of gas is shown by experiment to be controlled by branches of the vagus and sympathetic nerves in an exactly similar fashion to the secretion of saliva in a salivary gland. (See below for relations of swimbladder to ear).

Function.—In Crossopterygians and Dipnoans, the lung is used for breathing, while also serving a hydrostatic purpose. Among Actinopterygians, a few species still use it for respiration, but its primary role is as a float. Linked to this function is an interesting compensatory mechanism that allows the amount of gas in the swim bladder to decrease (by absorption) or, conversely, increase, to counteract changes in specific gravity caused by pressure changes with depth. This mechanism is particularly well-developed in physoclistic forms, which have specialized glandular patches (“red glands”) in the lining epithelium of the swim bladder that are packed with capillary blood vessels and appear to secrete gas into the swim bladder. The fact that the gas in the swim bladder is produced through some biological process, like secretion, is indicated by its composition, as it can contain nearly 90% oxygen in deep-sea species or a similar amount of nitrogen in fish from deep lakes, meaning its composition is significantly different from what it would be if it accumulated in the swim bladder through simple diffusion. Additionally, experiments have shown that the formation of gas is regulated by branches of the vagus and sympathetic nerves in a manner similar to how saliva secretion occurs in a salivary gland. (See below for the relationship of the swim bladder to the ear).

Of the important non-respiratory derivatives of the pharyngeal wall (thyroid, thymus, postbranchial bodies, &c.), only the thyroid calls for special mention, as important clues to its evolutionary history are afforded by the lampreys. In the larval lamprey the thyroid develops as a longitudinal groove on the pharyngeal floor. From the anterior end of this groove there pass a pair of peripharyngeal ciliated tracts to the dorsal side of the pharynx where they pass backwards to the hind end of the pharynx. Morphologically the whole apparatus corresponds closely with the endostyle and peripharyngeal and dorsal ciliated tracts of the pharynx of Amphioxus. The correspondence extends to function, as the open thyroid groove secretes a sticky mucus which passes into the pharyngeal cavity for the entanglement of food particles exactly as in Amphioxus. Later on the thyroid groove becomes shut off from the pharynx; its secretion now accumulates in the lumina of its interior and it functions as a ductless gland as in the Gnathostomata. The only conceivable explanation of this developmental history of the thyroid in the lamprey is that it is a repetition of phylogenetic history.

Of the key non-respiratory structures derived from the pharyngeal wall (thyroid, thymus, postbranchial bodies, etc.), only the thyroid deserves special mention, as the lampreys provide important insights into its evolutionary history. In the larval lamprey, the thyroid forms as a long groove on the floor of the pharynx. From the front end of this groove, two ciliated tracts extend around the pharynx, moving back to the rear end. Morphologically, this entire structure is very similar to the endostyle and the surrounding ciliated tracts in the pharynx of Amphioxus. This similarity extends to function, as the open thyroid groove produces a sticky mucus that flows into the pharyngeal cavity to trap food particles, just like in Amphioxus. Eventually, the thyroid groove becomes separated from the pharynx; its secretion then collects inside, and it operates as a ductless gland similar to those in the Gnathostomata. The only reasonable explanation for this developmental history of the thyroid in the lamprey is that it mirrors its evolutionary history.

Behind the pharynx comes the main portion of the alimentary canal concerned with the digestion and absorption of the food. This forms a tube varying greatly in length, more elongated and coiled in the higher Teleostomes, shorter and straighter in the Selachians, Dipnoans and lower Teleostomes. The oesophagus or gullet, usually forming a short, wide tube, leads into the glandular, more or less dilated stomach. This is frequently in the form of a letter J, the longer limb being continuous with the gullet, the shorter with the intestine. The curve of the J may be as in Polypterus and the perch produced backwards into a large pocket. The intestine is usually marked off from the stomach by a ring-like sphincter muscle forming the 255 pyloric valve. In the lower gnathostomatous fishes (Selachians, Crossopterygians, Dipnoans, sturgeons) the intestine possesses the highly characteristic spiral valve, a shelf-like projection into its lumen which pursues a spiral course, and along the turns of which the food passes during the course of digestion. From its universal occurrence in the groups mentioned we conclude that it is a structure of a very archaic type, once characteristic of ancestral Gnathostomata; a hint as to its morphological significance is given by its method of development.15 In an early stage of development the intestinal rudiment is coiled into a spiral and it is by the fusion together of the turns that the spiral valve arises. The only feasible explanation of this peculiar method of development seems to lie in the assumption that the ancestral gnathostome possessed an elongated, coiled intestine which subsequently became shortened with a fusion of its coils. In the higher fishes the spiral valve has disappeared—being still found, however, in a reduced condition in Amia and Lepidosteus, and possibly as a faint vestige in one or two Teleosts (certain Clupeidae16 and Salmonidae17). In the majority of the Teleosts the absence of spiral valves is coupled with a secondary elongation of the intestinal region, which in extreme cases (Loricariidae) may be accompanied by a secondary spiral coiling.

Behind the pharynx is the main part of the digestive tract responsible for digesting and absorbing food. This part forms a tube that varies significantly in length: it’s longer and more coiled in higher Teleostomes, while it’s shorter and straighter in Selachians, Dipnoans, and lower Teleostomes. The esophagus, or gullet, typically forms a short, wide tube that leads into the glandular, somewhat expanded stomach. This stomach often resembles a letter J, with the longer part connected to the gullet and the shorter part linked to the intestine. The curve of the J can be seen in Polypterus and perch, where it extends backward into a large pocket. The intestine is usually separated from the stomach by a ring-like sphincter muscle known as the pyloric valve. In lower jawed fishes (Selachians, Crossopterygians, Dipnoans, sturgeons), the intestine features the distinctive spiral valve, which is a shelf-like projection into its lumen that follows a spiral path, along which food moves during digestion. Its common presence in these groups suggests it is an ancient structure, once typical of ancestral Gnathostomata; its developmental method offers clues about its morphological significance. In the early stages of development, the intestinal rudiment coils into a spiral, and the spiral valve forms as the turns fuse together. The only logical explanation for this unusual developmental method seems to be that the ancestral gnathostome had an elongated, coiled intestine that later became shorter as its coils fused. In higher fishes, the spiral valve has disappeared; however, a reduced version can still be found in Amia and Lepidosteus, and possibly as a faint remnant in one or two Teleosts (certain Clupeidae and Salmonidae). In most Teleosts, the lack of spiral valves is associated with a secondary elongation of the intestinal region, which, in some extreme cases (like Loricariidae), may also show secondary spiral coiling.

The terminal part of the alimentary canal—the cloaca—is characterized by the fact that into it open the two kidney ducts. In Teleostomes the cloaca is commonly flattened out, so that the kidney ducts and the alimentary canal come to open independently on the outer surface.

The end part of the digestive system—the cloaca—is notable because the two kidney ducts drain into it. In Teleostomes, the cloaca is usually flattened, which allows the kidney ducts and the digestive tract to open separately on the outside.

The lining of the alimentary canal is throughout the greater part of its extent richly glandular. And at certain points local enlargements of the secretory surface take place so as to form glandular diverticula. The most ancient of these as indicated by its occurrence even in Amphioxus appears to be the liver, which, originally—as we may assume—mainly a digestive gland, has in the existing Craniates developed important excretory and glycogen-storing functions. Arising in the embryo as a simple caecum, the liver becomes in the adult a compact gland of very large size, usually bi-lobed in shape and lying in the front portion of the splanchnocoele. The stalk of the liver rudiment becomes drawn out into a tubular bile duct, which may become subdivided into branches, and as a rule develops on its course a pocket-like expansion, the gall-bladder. This may hang freely in the splanchnocoele or may be, as in many Selachians, imbedded in the liver substance.

The lining of the digestive tract is mostly made up of glands. At certain points, there are local enlargements of this secretory surface that create glandular diverticula. The oldest of these, as seen even in Amphioxus, seems to be the liver, which originally—presumably—served mainly as a digestive gland but has since developed significant excretory and glycogen-storing functions in present-day Craniates. The liver starts as a simple cecum in the embryo and grows into a large, compact gland in adults, typically shaped like two lobes and located in the front part of the body cavity. The stalk of the liver starts to stretch into a tubular bile duct, which can branch out and usually forms a pocket-like expansion along the way, known as the gallbladder. This gallbladder may hang freely in the body cavity or, as in many Selachians, be embedded within the liver tissue.

The pancreas also arises by localized bulging outwards of the intestinal lining—there being commonly three distinct rudiments in the embryo. In the Selachians the whitish compact pancreas of the adult opens into the intestine some little distance behind the opening of the bile duct, but in the Teleostomes it becomes involved in the liver outgrowth and mixed with its tissue, being frequently recognizable only by the study of microscopic sections. In the Dipnoans the pancreatic rudiment remains imbedded in the wall of the intestine: its duct is united with that of the liver.

The pancreas also forms through localized bulging of the intestinal lining, usually with three distinct early structures in the embryo. In cartilaginous fish, the adult pancreas, which is whitish and compact, connects to the intestine a bit behind the bile duct opening. In bony fish, it merges with the liver growth and blends with its tissue, often only identifiable through microscopic examination. In lungfish, the pancreatic structure stays embedded in the intestinal wall, and its duct merges with that of the liver.

Pyloric Caeca.—In the Teleostomi one or more glandular diverticula commonly occur at the commencement of the intestine and are known as the pyloric caeca. There may be a single caecum (crossopterygians, Ammodytes amongst Teleosts) or there may be nearly two hundred (mackerel). In the sturgeons the numerous caeca form a compact gland. In several families of Teleosts, on the other hand, there is no trace of these pyloric caeca.

Pyloric Caeca.—In the Teleostomi, one or more glandular pouches usually appear at the start of the intestine, called the pyloric caeca. There might be a single caecum (like in crossopterygians, or Ammodytes among Teleosts) or there can be nearly two hundred (like in mackerel). In sturgeons, the many caeca form a compact gland. However, in several families of Teleosts, there is no sign of these pyloric caeca.

In Selachians a small glandular diverticulum known as the rectal gland opens into the terminal part of the intestine on its dorsal side.

In Selachians, a small gland-like pouch called the rectal gland opens into the end part of the intestine on its upper side.

Coelomic Organs.—The development of the mesoderm in the restricted sense (mesothelium) as seen in the fishes (lamprey, Lepidosiren, Protopterus, Polypterus) appears to indicate beyond doubt that the mesoderm segments of vertebrates are really enterocoelic pouches in which the development of the lumen is delayed. Either the inner, or both inner and outer (e.g. Lepidosiren) walls of the mesoderm segment pass through a myoepithelial condition and give rise eventually to the great muscle segments (myomeres, or myotomes) which lie in series on each side of the trunk. In the fishes these remain distinct throughout life. The fins, both median and paired, obtain their musculature by the ingrowth into them of muscle buds from the adjoining myotomes.

Coelomic Organs.—The development of the mesoderm in its specific sense (mesothelium) observed in fish (lamprey, Lepidosiren, Protopterus, Polypterus) clearly shows that the mesoderm segments of vertebrates are actually enterocoelic pouches where the formation of the lumen is delayed. Either the inner wall or both the inner and outer walls (e.g. Lepidosiren) of the mesoderm segment go through a myoepithelial stage and eventually develop into the large muscle segments (myomeres, or myotomes) that are arranged in series on each side of the body. In fish, these segments remain distinct throughout their lives. The fins, both median and paired, get their muscle structure from muscle buds that grow into them from the neighboring myotomes.

From Gegenbaur, Untersuchungen zur vergleich. Anat. der Wirbeltiere, by permission of Wilhelm Engelmann.
Fig. 10.—View of Torpedo from the dorsal side: the electric organs are exposed.

I, Fore-brain.

I, Forebrain.

II, Mesencephalon.

Midbrain.

III, Cerebellum.

III, Cerebellum.

IV, Electric lobe.

IV, Electric lobe.

br, Common muscular sheath covering branchial clefts (on the left side this has been removed so as to expose the series of branchial sacs).

br, Common muscle layer covering branchial clefts (the left side has been removed to reveal the series of branchial sacs).

f, Spiracle.

f, Breathing hole.

o.e, Electric organ, on the left side the nerve-supply is shown.

o.e, Electric organ, the nerve supply is shown on the left side.

o, Eye.

o, Eye.

t, Sensory tubes of lateral line system.

t, Sensory tubes of the lateral line system.

Electrical Organs.18—It is characteristic of muscle that at the moment of contraction it produces a slight electrical disturbance. In certain fishes definite tracts of the musculature show a reduction of their previously predominant function of contraction and an increase of their previously subsidiary function of producing electrical disturbance; so that the latter function is now predominant.

Electrical Organs.18—Muscles are known to create a small electrical disturbance during contraction. In some fish, specific areas of the muscles exhibit a decrease in their main function of contraction and an increase in their previously minor role of generating electrical disturbances, making the latter function the primary one.

In the skates (Raia) the electrical organ is a fusiform structure derived from the lateral musculature of the tail; in Gymnotus—the electric eel—and in Mormyrus it forms an enormous structure occupying the place of the ventral halves of the myotomes along nearly the whole length of the body; in Torpedo it forms a large, somewhat kidney-shaped structure as viewed from above lying on each side of the head and derived from the musculature of the anterior visceral arches. In Torpedo the nerve-supply is derived from cranial nerves VII. IX. and the anterior branchial branches of X.

In skates (Raia), the electric organ is a spindle-shaped structure that comes from the side muscles of the tail. In the electric eel (Gymnotus) and in Mormyrus, it forms a massive structure that takes up the space of the lower halves of the myotomes along almost the entire length of the body. In Torpedo, it forms a large, somewhat kidney-shaped structure when viewed from above, lying on either side of the head and derived from the muscles of the front visceral arches. In Torpedo, the nerve supply comes from cranial nerves VII, IX, and the anterior branchial branches of X.

The electric organ is composed of prismatic columns each built up of a row of compartments. Each compartment contains a lamellated electric disc representing the shortened-up and otherwise metamorphosed muscle fibre. On one face (ventral in Torpedo, anterior in Raia) of the electric disc is a gigantic end-plate supplied by a beautiful, dichotomously branched, terminal nervous arborization.

The electric organ is made up of prismatic columns, each consisting of a series of compartments. Each compartment has a layered electric disc that represents the modified muscle fiber. On one side (the underside in Torpedo, the front in Raia) of the electric disc is a large end-plate supplied by a beautifully branched network of nerves.

The development of the mesoderm of the head region is too obscure for treatment here.19 The ventral portion of the trunk mesoderm gives rise to the splanchnocoel or general coelom. Except in the Myxinoids the anterior part of the splanchnocoel becomes separated off as a pericardiac cavity, though in adult Selachians the separation becomes incomplete, the two cavities being in communication by a pericardio-peritoneal canal.

The development of the mesoderm in the head region is too unclear to discuss here.19 The lower part of the trunk mesoderm forms the splanchnocoel or general coelom. Except in Myxinoids, the front part of the splanchnocoel is separated into a pericardiac cavity. However, in adult Selachians, the separation is incomplete, and the two cavities are connected by a pericardio-peritoneal canal.

Nephridial System.—-The kidney system in fishes consists of segmentally arranged tubes leading from the coelom into a longitudinal duct which opens within the hinder end of the enteron—the whole forming what is known as the archinephros (Lankester) or holonephros (Price). Like the other segmented 256 organs of the vertebrate the archinephros develops from before backwards. The sequence is, however, not regular. A small number of tubules at the head end of the series become specially enlarged and are able to meet the excretory needs during larval existence (Pronephros): the immediately succeeding tubules remain undeveloped, and then come the tubules of the rest of the series which form the functional kidney of the adult (Mesonephros).

Nephridial System.—The kidney system in fish consists of segmented tubes that lead from the coelom into a longitudinal duct, which opens at the rear end of the digestive tract—this whole setup is referred to as the archinephros (Lankester) or holonephros (Price). Like other segmented organs in vertebrates, the archinephros develops from the front to the back. However, the sequence isn't entirely consistent. A small number of tubules at the head end of the series become enlarged and can handle the excretory needs during the larval stage (Pronephros); the immediately following tubules remain undeveloped, and then come the tubules that form the functional kidney of the adult (Mesonephros).

The kidney tubules subserve the excretory function in two different ways. The wall of the tubule, bathed in blood from the posterior cardinal vein, serves to extract nitrogenous products of excretion from the blood and pass them into the lumen of the tubule. The open ciliated funnel or nephrostome at the coelomic end of the tubule serves for the passage outwards of coelomic fluid to flush the cavity of the tubule. The secretory activity of the coelomic lining is specially concentrated in certain limited areas in the neighbourhood of the nephrostomes, each such area ensheathing a rounded mass depending into the coelom and formed of a blood-vessel coiled into a kind of skein—a glomerulus. In the case of the pronephros the glomeruli are as a rule fused together into a single glomus. In the mesonephros they remain separate and in this case the portion of coelom surrounding the glomerulus tends to be nipped off from the general coelom—to form a Malpighian body. The separation may be incomplete—the Malpighian coelom remaining in connexion with the general coelom by a narrow peritoneal canal. The splanchnocoelic end of this is usually ciliated and is termed a peritoneal funnel: it is frequently confused with the nephrostome.

The kidney tubules perform the excretory function in two different ways. The wall of the tubule, surrounded by blood from the posterior cardinal vein, extracts nitrogenous waste products from the blood and transfers them into the tubule's lumen. The open ciliated funnel or nephrostome at the coelomic end of the tubule allows coelomic fluid to exit, flushing the tubule's cavity. The secretory activity of the coelomic lining is particularly concentrated in certain specific areas near the nephrostomes, with each area encasing a rounded mass that hangs into the coelom, made up of a blood vessel coiled into a kind of skein—a glomerulus. In the case of the pronephros, the glomeruli typically fuse together into a single glomus. In the mesonephros, they remain separate, and in this case, the portion of coelom surrounding the glomerulus tends to be pinched off from the main coelom to form a Malpighian body. The separation can be incomplete, with the Malpighian coelom still connected to the general coelom by a narrow peritoneal canal. The splanchnocoelic end of this canal is usually ciliated and is called a peritoneal funnel, which is often confused with the nephrostome.

Mesonephros.—The kidney of the adult fish is usually a compact gland extending over a considerable distance in an anteroposterior direction and lying immediately dorsal to the coelomic cavity.

Mesonephros.—The kidney in adult fish is typically a compact gland that stretches over a significant distance from front to back and sits right above the coelomic cavity.

Peritoneal funnels are present in the adult of certain Selachians (e.g. Acanthias, Squatina), though apparently in at least some of these forms they no longer communicate with the Malpighian bodies or tubules. The kidneys of the two sides become fused together posteriorly in Protopterus and in some Teleosts. The mesonephric ducts undergo fusion posteriorly in many cases to form a median urinary or urinogenital sinus. In the Selachians this median sinus is prolonged forwards into a pair of horn-like continuations—the sperm sacs. In Dipnoans the sinus becomes greatly dilated and forms a large, rounded, dorsally placed cloacal caecum. In Actinopterygians a urinary bladder of similar morphological import is commonly present.

Peritoneal funnels are found in the adults of certain sharks (e.g., Acanthias, Squatina), although in at least some of these species, they seem to no longer connect with the Malpighian bodies or tubules. The kidneys on both sides fuse together at the back in Protopterus and some bony fish. In many cases, the mesonephric ducts fuse at the back to create a central urinary or urinogenital sinus. In sharks, this central sinus extends forward into a pair of horn-like extensions—the sperm sacs. In lungfish, the sinus expands greatly and forms a large, rounded cloacal sac on the dorsal side. In ray-finned fish, a urinary bladder with similar structural significance is often present.

Gonads.—The portion of coelomic lining which gives rise to the reproductive cells retains its primitive relations most nearly in the female, where, as a rule, the genital cells are still shed into the splanchnocoele. Only in Teleostomes (Lepidosteus and most Teleosts) the modification occurs that the ovary is shut off from the splanchnocoele as a closed cavity continuous with its duct.

Gonads.—The part of the coelomic lining that produces reproductive cells keeps its basic structure most closely in females, where, generally, the genital cells are still released into the splanchnocoele. Only in Teleostomes (Lepidosteus and most Teleosts) does the change happen where the ovary is separated from the splanchnocoele, forming a closed cavity that is connected to its duct.

In a few Teleosts (Salmonidae, Muraenidae, Cobitis) the ovary is not a closed sac, its eggs being shed into the coelom as in other groups.

In some Teleosts (Salmonidae, Muraenidae, Cobitis), the ovary isn't a closed sac; instead, the eggs are released into the coelom like in other groups.

The appearance of the ovary naturally varies greatly with the character of the eggs.

The appearance of the ovary naturally varies a lot based on the characteristics of the eggs.

The portion of coelomic lining which gives rise to the male genital cells (testis) is in nearly, if not quite, all cases, shut off from the splanchnocoele. The testes are commonly elongated in form. In Dipneusti20 (Lepidosiren and Protopterus) the hinder portion of the elongated testis has lost its sperm-producing function, though the spermatozoa produced in the anterior portion have to traverse it in order to reach the kidney. In Polypterus21 the testis is continued backwards as a “testis ridge,” which appears to correspond with the posterior vesicular region of the testis in Lepidosiren and Protopterus. Here also the spermatozoa pass back through the cavities of the testis ridge to reach the kidney duct. In the young Teleost22 the rudiment of the duct forms a backward continuation of the testis containing a network of cavities and opening as a rule posteriorly into the kidney duct. It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the testis duct of the Teleost is for the most part the equivalent morphologically of the posterior vesicular region of the testis of Polypterus and the Dipneusti.

The part of the coelomic lining that develops into male reproductive cells (testis) is almost always, if not entirely, separated from the splanchnocoele. The testes are usually elongated in shape. In Dipneusti20 (Lepidosiren and Protopterus), the back part of the elongated testis has lost its ability to produce sperm, although the sperm produced in the front part must pass through it to reach the kidney. In Polypterus21, the testis extends backward as a "testis ridge," which seems to correspond to the posterior vesicular area of the testis in Lepidosiren and Protopterus. Here too, spermatozoa travel back through the cavities of the testis ridge to reach the kidney duct. In young Teleost22, the duct's early form extends backward from the testis, containing a network of cavities and typically opening posteriorly into the kidney duct. It is hard to avoid concluding that the testis duct of the Teleost is mostly morphologically equivalent to the posterior vesicular region of the testis in Polypterus and Dipneusti.

From Arch. zool, expérimentale, by permission of Schleicher Frères.
Fig. 11.—Urino-Genital Organs of the right side in a male Scyllium. (After Borcea.)

m.n. 1, Anterior (genital) portion of mesonephros with its coiled duct.

m.n. 1, Front (genital) part of the mesonephros with its twisted duct.

m.n. 2, Posterior (renal) portion of mesonephros.

m.n. 2, Back (kidney) part of the mesonephros.

s.s, Sperm sac.

Sperm sac.

T, Testis.

T, Testicle.

u, “Ureter” formed by fusion of collecting tubes of renal portion of mesonephros.

u, “Ureter” created by the merging of collecting tubes from the renal part of the mesonephros.

u.g.s, Urino-genital sinus;

, urogenital sinus;

v.s, Vesicula seminalis.

vs, Seminal vesicle.

Relations of Renal and Reproductive Organs. (1) Female.—In the Selachians and Dipnoans the oviduct is of the type (Müllerian duct) present in the higher vertebrates and apparently representing a split-off portion of the archinephric duct. At its anterior end is a wide funnel-like coelomic opening. Its walls are glandular and secrete accessory coverings for the eggs. In the great majority of Teleosts and in Lepidosteus the oviduct possesses no coelomic funnel, its walls being in structural continuity with the wall of the ovary. In most of the more primitive Teleostomes (Crossopterygians, sturgeons, Amia) the oviduct has at its front end an open coelomic funnel, and it is difficult to find adequate reason for refusing to regard such oviducts as true Müllerian ducts. On this interpretation the condition characteristic of Teleosts would be due to the lips of the oviduct becoming fused with the ovarian wall, and the duct itself would be a Müllerian duct as elsewhere.

Relations of Renal and Reproductive Organs. (1) Female.—In the Selachians and Dipnoans, the oviduct resembles the Müllerian duct found in higher vertebrates and seems to be a part that has separated from the archinephric duct. At its front end, it has a wide, funnel-like opening to the coelom. Its walls are glandular and produce extra coverings for the eggs. In most Teleosts and in Lepidosteus, the oviduct lacks a coelomic funnel, and its walls are directly continuous with the ovary wall. In many of the more primitive Teleostomes (Crossopterygians, sturgeons, Amia), the oviduct has an open coelomic funnel at its front end, making it hard to find a good reason to not consider these oviducts as true Müllerian ducts. If we take this view, the unique condition found in Teleosts would result from the lips of the oviduct fusing with the ovarian wall, and the duct itself would indeed be a Müllerian duct like in other species.

A departure from the normal arrangement is found in those Teleosts which shed their eggs into the splanchnocoele, e.g. amongst Salmonidae, the smelt (Osmerus) and capelin (Mallotus) possess a pair of oviducts resembling Müllerian ducts while the salmon possesses merely a pair of genital pores opening together behind the anus. It seems most probable that the latter condition has been derived from the former by reduction of the Müllerian ducts, though it has been argued that the converse process has taken place. The genital pores mentioned must not be confused with the abdominal pores, which in many adult fishes, particularly in those without open peritoneal funnels, lead from coelom directly to the exterior in the region of the cloacal opening. These appear to be recent developments, and to have nothing to do morphologically with the genitourinary system.23

A departure from the usual setup is seen in those Teleosts that release their eggs into the splanchnocoele. For example, in the Salmonidae family, smelts (Osmerus) and capelins (Mallotus) have a pair of oviducts that resemble Müllerian ducts, while salmon only have a pair of genital pores that open just behind the anus. It seems most likely that the latter condition evolved from the former through the reduction of the Müllerian ducts, although some argue that the opposite has happened. The genital pores mentioned should not be confused with the abdominal pores, which in many adult fishes, especially those without open peritoneal funnels, lead directly from the coelom to the exterior near the cloacal opening. These appear to be recent developments and are morphologically unrelated to the genitourinary system.23

(2) Male.—It seems that primitively the male reproductive elements like the female were shed into the coelom and passed thence through the nephridial tubules. In correlation probably with the greatly reduced size of these elements they are commonly no longer shed into the splanchnocoele, but are conveyed from the testis through covered-in canals to the Malpighian bodies or kidney tubules. The system of covered-in canals forms the testicular network, the individual canals being termed vasa efferentia. In all probability the series of vasa efferentia was originally spread over the whole length of the elongated testis (cf. Lepidosteus), but in existing fishes the series is as a rule 257 restricted to a comparatively short anteroposterior extent. In Selachians the vasa efferentia are restricted to the anterior end of testis and kidney, and are connected by a longitudinal canal ending blindly in front and behind. The number of vasa efferentia varies and in the rays (Raia, Torpedo) may be reduced to a single one opening directly into the front end of the mesonephric duct. The anterior portion of the mesonephros is much reduced in size in correlation with the fact that it has lost its renal function. The hinder part, which is the functional kidney, is considerably enlarged. The primary tubules of this region of the kidney have undergone a modification of high morphological interest. Their distal portions have become much elongated, they are more or less fused, and their openings into the mesonephric duct have undergone backward migration until they open together either into the mesonephric duct at its posterior end or into the urinogenital sinus independently of the mesonephric duct. The mesonephric duct is now connected only with the anterior part of the kidney, and serves merely as a vas deferens or sperm duct. In correlation with this it is somewhat enlarged, especially in its posterior portion, to form a vesicula seminalis.

(2) Male.—It appears that originally, like the female, the male reproductive elements were released into the coelom and then passed through the nephridial tubules. Likely due to the significantly smaller size of these elements now, they are generally not released into the splanchnocoele, but instead are transported from the testis through enclosed canals to the Malpighian bodies or kidney tubules. This system of enclosed canals makes up the testicular network, with the individual canals referred to as vasa efferentia. It’s probable that the series of vasa efferentia was initially distributed along the entire length of the elongated testis (see Lepidosteus), but in current fish species, this series is usually limited to a relatively short anteroposterior stretch. In Selachians, the vasa efferentia are confined to the front part of the testis and kidney, connected by a longitudinal canal that ends blindly at both ends. The number of vasa efferentia varies, and in rays (Raia, Torpedo), it can be reduced to just one that opens directly into the front end of the mesonephric duct. The front part of the mesonephros is greatly reduced in size, as it has lost its renal function. However, the hind part, which functions as the kidney, is much larger. The primary tubules in this kidney region have undergone fascinating modifications. Their distal portions have become much longer, they are somewhat fused, and their openings into the mesonephric duct have shifted backward until they either open together at the back end of the mesonephric duct or into the urinogenital sinus, separate from the mesonephric duct. The mesonephric duct now only connects with the anterior part of the kidney and acts solely as a vas deferens or sperm duct. Accordingly, it is slightly enlarged, especially in its rear section, forming a vesicula seminalis.

The morphological interest of these features lies in the fact that they represent a stage in evolution which carried a little farther would lead to a complete separation of the definitive kidney (metanephros) from the purely genital anterior section of the mesonephros (epididymis), as occurs so characteristically in the Amniota.

The morphological interest of these features lies in the fact that they represent a stage in evolution that, if carried a bit further, would lead to a complete separation of the definitive kidney (metanephros) from the purely genital anterior section of the mesonephros (epididymis), as is so characteristic in the Amniota.

Dipneusti.—In Lepidosiren24 a small number (about half a dozen) of vasa efferentia occur towards the hind end of the vesicular part of the testis and open into Malpighian bodies. In Protopterus the vasa efferentia are reduced to a single one on each side at the extreme hind end of the testis.

Dipneusti.—In Lepidosiren24 there are a few (about six) vasa efferentia located towards the rear of the vesicular part of the testis, which open into Malpighian bodies. In Protopterus, the vasa efferentia have been reduced to just one on each side at the very back end of the testis.

Graham Kerr, Proc. Zool. Soc. London.
Fig. 12.—Diagram illustrating Connexion between Kidney and Testis in Various Groups of Fishes.

A, Distributed condition of vasa efferentia (Acipenser, Lepidosteus).

A, Distributed condition of vasa efferentia (Acipenser, Lepidosteus).

B, Vasa efferentia reduced to a few at the hind end (Lepidosiren).

B, Vasa efferentia reduced to a few at the back end (Lepidosiren).

C, Reduction of vasa efferentia to a single one posteriorly (Protopterus).

C, Reduction of vasa efferentia to a single one at the back (Protopterus).

D, Direct communication between testis and kidney duct (Polypterus, Teleosts).

D, Direct communication between testis and kidney duct (Polypterus, Teleosts).

c.f, Nephrostome leading from Malpighian coelom into kidney tubule.

c.f, Nephrostome connecting the Malpighian coelom to the kidney tubule.

T1, Functional region of testis.

Functional area of testis.

T2, Vesicular region of testis.

T2, Vesicular area of testis.

WD, Mesonephric duct.

WD, mesonephric duct.

Teleostomi.—In the actinopterygian Ganoids a well-developed testicular network is present; e.g. in Lepidosteus25 numerous vasa efferentia arise from the testis along nearly its whole length and pass to a longitudinal canal lying on the surface of the kidney, from which in turn transverse canals lead to the Malpighian bodies. (In the case of Amia they open into the tubules or even directly into the mesonephric duct.) In the Teleosts and in Polypterus there is no obvious connexion between testis and kidney, the wall of the testis being continuous with that of its duct, much as is the case with the ovary and its duct in the female. In all probability this peculiar condition is to be explained26 by the reduction of the testicular network to a single vas efferens (much as in Protopterus or as in Raia and various anurous Amphibians at the front end of the series) which has come to open directly into the mesonephric duct (cf. fig. 12).

Teleostomi.—In the actinopterygian Ganoids, there is a well-developed testicular network; for example, in Lepidosteus, numerous vasa efferentia arise from the testis along nearly its entire length and connect to a longitudinal canal on the surface of the kidney, which then leads to transverse canals that go to the Malpighian bodies. (In the case of Amia, they open into the tubules or even directly into the mesonephric duct.) In Teleosts and in Polypterus, there’s no clear connection between the testis and kidney; the wall of the testis is continuous with that of its duct, similar to how the ovary and its duct connect in females. This unusual condition is likely due to a reduction of the testicular network to a single vas efferens (as seen in Protopterus or in Raia and various anurous Amphibians at the beginning of the series) that opens directly into the mesonephric duct (see fig. 12).

Organs of the Mesenchyme.—In vertebrates as in all other Metazoa, except the very lowest, there are numerous cell elements which no longer form part of the regularly arranged epithelial layers, but which take part in the formation of the packing tissue of the body. Much of this forms the various kinds of connective tissue which fill up many of the spaces between the various epithelial layers; other and very important parts of the general mesenchyme become specialized in two definite directions and give rise to two special systems of organs. One of these is characterized by the fact that the intercellular substance or matrix assumes a more or less rigid character—it may be infiltrated with salts of lime—giving rise to the supporting tissues of the skeletal system. The other is characterized by the intercellular matrix becoming fluid, and by the cell elements losing their connexion with one another and forming the characteristic fluid tissue, the blood, which with its well-marked containing walls forms the blood vascular system.

Organs of the Mesenchyme.—In vertebrates, like in all other Metazoa, except the very simplest ones, there are many cell elements that no longer belong to the regularly arranged epithelial layers but contribute to the creation of the body's connective tissue. Much of this connective tissue fills the spaces between different epithelial layers; other important parts of the general mesenchyme become specialized in two distinct ways, leading to the development of two specific organ systems. One of these systems is marked by the intercellular substance or matrix becoming somewhat rigid—it can be infused with calcium salts—resulting in the supporting tissues of the skeletal system. The other system is defined by the intercellular matrix becoming fluid, and the cell elements separating from each other to form the characteristic fluid tissue, blood, which, with its clearly defined containing walls, makes up the blood vascular system.

Skeletal System.—The skeletal system may be considered under three headings—(1) the chordal skeleton, (2) the cartilaginous skeleton and (3) the osseous skeleton.

Skeletal System.—The skeletal system can be viewed in three parts—(1) the chordal skeleton, (2) the cartilaginous skeleton, and (3) the bony skeleton.

1. Chordal Skeleton.—The most ancient element of the skeleton appears to be the notochord—a cylindrical rod composed of highly vacuolated cells lying ventral to the central nervous system and dorsal to the gut. Except in Amphioxus—where the condition may probably be secondary, due to degenerative shortening of the central nervous system—the notochord extends from a point just behind the infundibulum of the brain (see below) to nearly the tip of the tail. In ontogeny the notochord is a derivative of the dorsal wall of the archenteron. The outer layer of cells, which are commonly less vacuolated and form a “chordal epithelium,” soon secretes a thin cuticle which ensheaths the notochord and is known as the primary sheath. Within this there is formed later a secondary sheath, like the primary, cuticular in nature. This secondary sheath attains a considerable thickness and plays an important part in strengthening the notochord. The notochord with its sheaths is in existing fishes essentially the skeleton of early life (embryonic or larval). In the adult it may, in the more primitive forms (Cyclostomata, Dipneusti), persist as an important part of the skeleton, but as a rule it merely forms the foundation on which the cartilaginous or bony vertebral column is laid down.

1. Chordal Skeleton.—The oldest part of the skeleton seems to be the notochord—a cylindrical rod made up of highly vacuolated cells that sits below the central nervous system and above the gut. Except in Amphioxus—where this condition might be a secondary result of the central nervous system shrinking—the notochord stretches from just behind the brain's infundibulum (see below) to almost the tip of the tail. During development, the notochord derives from the outer layer of the archenteron. The outer layer of cells, which are usually less vacuolated and form a “chordal epithelium,” soon secretes a thin cuticle that encases the notochord and is called the primary sheath. Later on, a secondary sheath forms within this primary one, similar in nature and also cuticular. This secondary sheath becomes quite thick and plays a key role in strengthening the notochord. In present-day fish, the notochord with its sheaths is essentially the skeleton during early life (embryonic or larval). In adults, it may remain an important part of the skeleton in more primitive forms (Cyclostomata, Dipneusti), but generally, it simply serves as the base on which the cartilaginous or bony vertebral column is built.

2. Cartilaginous or Chondral Skeleton.—(A) Vertebral column.27 In the embryonic connective tissue or mesenchyme lying just outside the primary sheath of the notochord there are developed a dorsal and a ventral series of paired nodules of cartilage known as arcualia (fig. 13, d.a, v.a). The dorsal arcualia are commonly prolonged upwards by supradorsal cartilages which complete the neural arches and serve to protect the spinal cord. The ventral arcualia become, in the tail region only, also incorporated in complete arches—the haemal arches. In correlation with the flattening of the body of the fish from side to side the arches are commonly prolonged into elongated neural or haemal spines.

2. Cartilaginous or Chondral Skeleton.—(A) Vertebral column.27 In the embryonic connective tissue or mesenchyme located just outside the primary sheath of the notochord, paired nodules of cartilage known as arcualia develop in a dorsal and a ventral series (fig. 13, d.a, v.a). The dorsal arcualia are usually extended upwards by supradorsal cartilages that complete the neural arches and help protect the spinal cord. The ventral arcualia, exclusively in the tail region, are also incorporated into complete arches—the haemal arches. As the fish's body flattens from side to side, the arches are typically extended into long neural or haemal spines.

The relations of the arcualia to the segmentation of the body, as shown by myotomes and spinal nerves, is somewhat obscure. The mesenchyme in which they arise is segmental in origin (sclerotom), which suggests that they too may have been primitively segmental, but in existing fishes there are commonly two sets of arcualia to each body segment.

The relationship between the arcualia and the segmentation of the body, as indicated by myotomes and spinal nerves, is a bit unclear. The mesenchyme from which they develop has a segmental origin (sclerotom), indicating that they might also have been originally segmental. However, in modern fish, there are usually two sets of arcualia for each body segment.

In gnathostomatous fishes the arcualia play a most important part in that cartilaginous tissue derived from them comes into special relationships with the notochord and gives rise to the vertebral column which functionally replaces this notochord in most of the fishes. This replacement occurs according to two different methods, giving rise to the different types of vertebral column known as chordacentrous and arcicentrous.

In jawed fishes, the arcualia are crucial because the cartilage that develops from them forms special connections with the notochord and leads to the development of the backbone, which functionally takes over the role of the notochord in most fishes. This replacement happens in two distinct ways, resulting in the different types of backbone referred to as chordacentrous and arcicentrous.

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(a) Chordacentrous type. An incipient stage in the evolution of a chordacentrous vertebral column occurs in the Dipneusti, where cartilage cells from the arcualia become amoeboid and migrate into the substance of the secondary sheath, boring their way through the primary sheath (fig. 13, C). They wander throughout the whole extent of the secondary sheath, colonizing it as it were, and settle down as typical stationary cartilage cells. The secondary sheath is thus converted into a cylinder of cartilage. In Selachians exactly the same thing takes place, but in recent forms development goes a step further, as the cartilage cylinder becomes broken into a series of segments, known as vertebral centra. The wall of each segment becomes much thickened in the middle so that the notochord becomes constricted within each centrum and the space occupied by it is shaped like the cavity of a dice-box. When free from notochord and surrounding tissues such a cartilaginous centrum presents a deep conical cavity at each end (amphicoelous).

(a) Chordacentrous type. An early stage in the evolution of a chordacentrous vertebral column happens in the Dipneusti, where cartilage cells from the arcualia become amoeboid and move into the secondary sheath, making their way through the primary sheath (fig. 13, C). They spread throughout the entire secondary sheath, effectively colonizing it, and settle down as typical stationary cartilage cells. The secondary sheath is thus transformed into a cylinder of cartilage. In Selachians, exactly the same process occurs, but in modern forms, development goes a step further, as the cartilage cylinder is broken into a series of segments called vertebral centra. The wall of each segment thickens in the middle, causing the notochord to constrict within each centrum, creating a shape that resembles the cavity of a dice-box. When separated from the notochord and surrounding tissues, such a cartilaginous centrum has a deep conical cavity at each end (amphicoelous).

From Wiedersheim, Grundriss der vergleichenden Anatomie, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 13.—Diagrammatic transverse sections to illustrate the morphology of the vertebral column.

A, Primitive conditions as seen in any young embryo.

A, Primitive conditions as seen in any young embryo.

B, Condition as it occurs in Cyclostomata, sturgeons, embryos of bony Actinopterygians.

B, Condition as it occurs in Cyclostomata, sturgeons, embryos of bony Actinopterygians.

C, Condition found in Selachians and Dipnoans.

C, Condition found in sharks and lungfish.

D and E, Illustrating the developmental process in bony Actinopterygians and higher vertebrates.

D and E, showing the developmental process in bony fish and higher vertebrates.

c, Centrum.

c, Center.

d.a, Dorsal arcualia.

d.a, Dorsal arcualia.

n.a, Neural arch.

N/A, Neural arch.

nc, Notochord.

Notochord.

nc.ep, Chordal epithelium.

nc.ep, Chordal epithelium.

n.sp, Neural spine.

Neural spine.

sh.1, Primary sheath.

sh.1, Main sheath.

sh.2, Secondary sheath.

sh.2, Secondary cover.

sk.l, Connective tissue.

Connective tissue.

tr.p, Transverse process.

Transverse process.

v.a, Ventral arcualia.

v.a, Ventral arcualia.

A secondary modification of the centrum consists in the calcification of certain zones of the cartilaginous matrix. The precise arrangement of these calcified zones varies in different families and affords characters which are of taxonomic importance in palaeontology where only skeletal structures are available (see Selachians).

A secondary change in the centrum involves the hardening of specific areas of the cartilage matrix. The exact pattern of these hardened areas differs among various families and provides features that are significant for classification in paleontology, especially when only skeletal remains are available (see Selachians).

(b) Arcicentrous type. Already in the Selachians the vertebral column is to a certain extent strengthened by the broadening of the basis of the arcualia so as partially to surround the centra. In the Teleostomes, with the exceptions of those ganoids mentioned, the expanded bases of the arcualia undergo complete fusion to form cartilaginous centra which, unlike the chordacentrous centra, lie outside the primary sheath (figs. 13, D and E). In these forms no invasion of the secondary sheath by cartilage cells takes place. The composition of the groups of arcualia which give rise to the individual centrum is different in different groups. The end result is an amphicoelous or biconcave centrum in general appearance much like that of the Selachian.

(b) Arcicentrous type. Even in Selachians, the vertebral column is somewhat reinforced by the widening of the base of the arcualia, which partially surrounds the centra. In Teleostomes, except for the mentioned ganoid types, the expanded bases of the arcualia completely fuse to form cartilaginous centra that, unlike the chordacentrous centra, are located outside the primary sheath (figs. 13, D and E). In these forms, there's no invasion of the secondary sheath by cartilage cells. The structure of the groups of arcualia that lead to the formation of each centrum varies among different groups. The final result is an amphicoelous or biconcave centrum that generally resembles that of the Selachian.

In Lepidosteus the spaces between adjacent centra become filled by a secondary development of intervertebral cartilage which then splits in such a way that the definitive vertebrae are opisthocoelous, i.e. concave behind, convex in front.

In Lepidosteus, the gaps between neighboring vertebrae are filled by a secondary growth of intervertebral cartilage that then splits in a way that the mature vertebrae are opisthocoelous, i.e. concave at the back and convex at the front.

Ribs.—In the Crossopterygians a double set of “ribs” is present on each side of the vertebral column, a ventral set lying immediately outside the splanchnocoelic lining and apparently serially homologous with the haemal arches of the caudal region, and a second set passing outwards in the thickness of the body wall at a more dorsal level. In the Teleostomes and Dipnoans only the first type is present; in the Selachians only the second. It would appear that it is the latter which is homologous with the ribs of vertebrates above fishes.

Ribs.—In Crossopterygians, there are two sets of “ribs” on each side of the spine: a lower set located just outside the splanchnocoelic lining, which seems to be related to the haemal arches in the tail region, and an upper set that extends outward through the body wall at a higher level. In Teleostomes and Dipnoans, only the lower set exists; in Selachians, only the upper set is found. It seems that the upper set is the one that corresponds to the ribs in vertebrates above fish.

Median Fin Skeleton.—the foundation of the skeleton of the median fins consists of a series of rod-like elements, the radialia, each of which frequently is segmented into three portions. In a few cases the radialia correspond segmentally with the neural and haemal arches (living Dipnoans, Pleuracanthus tail region) and this suggests that they represent morphologically prolongations of the neural and haemal spines. That this is so is rendered probable by the fact that we must regard the evolution of the system of median fins as commencing with a simple flattening of the posterior part of the body. It is only natural to suppose that the edges of the flattened region would be at first supported merely by prolongations of the already existing spinous processes. In the Cyclostomes (where they are branched) and in the Selachians, the radialia form the main supports of the fin, though already in the latter they are reinforced by a new set of fin rays apparently related morphologically to the osseous or placoid skeleton (see below).

Median Fin Skeleton.—the base of the skeleton of the median fins consists of a series of rod-like elements called radialia, each of which is often segmented into three parts. In some cases, the radialia correspond segmentally with the neural and haemal arches (in living Dipnoans, Pleuracanthus tail region), suggesting that they are morphologically extensions of the neural and haemal spines. This is likely because we must view the evolution of the median fin system as starting with a simple flattening of the back part of the body. It makes sense to think that the edges of the flattened area would initially be supported solely by extensions of the existing spiny processes. In Cyclostomes (where they are branched) and Selachians, the radialia serve as the main supports of the fin, although in Selachians they are already reinforced by a new set of fin rays that appear morphologically related to the bony or placoid skeleton (see below).

The series of radialia tends to undergo the same process of local concentration which characterizes the fin-fold as a whole. In its extreme form this leads to complete fusion of the basal portions of a number of radialia (dorsal fins of Holoptychius and various Selachians, and anal fin of Pleuracanthus). In view of the identity in function it is not surprising that a remarkable resemblance exists between the mechanical arrangements (of skeleton, muscles, &c.), of the paired and unpaired fins. The resemblance to paired fins becomes very striking in some of the cases where the basal fusion mentioned above takes place (Pleuracanthus).

The series of radial structures tends to go through the same local concentration process that characterizes the fin-fold as a whole. In its most extreme form, this results in the complete fusion of the base portions of several radial structures (the dorsal fins of Holoptychius and various sharks, as well as the anal fin of Pleuracanthus). Given that they serve similar functions, it’s not surprising that there’s a remarkable similarity in the mechanical arrangements (like the skeleton, muscles, etc.) of paired and unpaired fins. The resemblance to paired fins becomes particularly striking in cases where the basal fusion noted earlier occurs (Pleuracanthus).

Trans. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh.
Fig. 14.—Chondrocranium of a young Lepidosiren, showing the suspension of the lower jaw by the upper portion of the mandibular arch. (After Agar.)

H, Hyoid arch.

H, Hyoid bone.

M, Mandibular arch.

M, Mandibular arch.

o.a, Occipital arch.

Occipital arch.

ot, Auditory capsule.

Auditory capsule.

q, Quadrate = upper end of mandibular arch.

q, Quadrate = top part of the jawbone arch.

tr, Trabecula.

Trabecula.

The palatopterygoid bar (p.pt) is represented by a faint vestige which disappears before the stage figured.

(B) Chondrocranium28.—In front of the vertebral column lies the cartilaginous trough, the chondrocranium, which protects the brain. This consists of a praechordal portion—developed out of a pair of lateral cartilaginous rods—the trabeculae cranii—and a parachordal portion lying on either side of the anterior end of the notochord. This arises in development 259 from a cartilaginous rod (parachordal cartilage) lying on each side of the notochord and possibly representing a fused row of dorsal arcualia. The originally separate parachordals and trabeculae become connected to form a trough-like, primitive cranium, complete or nearly so laterally and ventrally but open dorsally. With the primitive cranium there are also connected cartilaginous capsules developed round the olfactory and auditory organs. There also become fused with the hinder end of the cranium a varying number of originally distinct neural arches.

(B) Chondrocranium28.—In front of the vertebral column is the cartilaginous trough, known as the chondrocranium, which protects the brain. This structure includes a praechordal portion, formed from a pair of lateral cartilaginous rods called the trabeculae cranii, and a parachordal portion located on either side of the front end of the notochord. During development, this originates from a cartilaginous rod (parachordal cartilage) on each side of the notochord, possibly representing a fused row of dorsal arcualia. The initially separate parachordals and trabeculae fuse to create a trough-like, primitive cranium that is complete or nearly so on the sides and bottom but open on top. Along with the primitive cranium, there are also cartilaginous capsules that form around the olfactory and auditory organs. A varying number of originally separate neural arches also fuse with the back end of the cranium.

After W. K. Parker, Trans. Zool. Soc. London.
After Gegenbaur, Untersuchungen zur verg. Anat. der Wirbeltiere, by permission of Wilhelm Engelmann.
After Hubrecht, Brown’s Tierreich, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 15.—Chondrocranium, &c. of Scyllium (A), Notidanus cinereus (B) and Chimaera (C).

Br.A, Branchial arches.

Br.A, Branchial arches.

c.h, Ceratohyal.

Ceratohyal.

e.p.l, Ethmopalatine ligament.

e.p.l, Ethmopalatine ligament.

Hm, Hyomandibular.

Hmm, Hyomandibular.

M, Meckel’s cartilage.

M, Meckel's cartilage.

o, Orbit.

o, Orbit.

olf, Olfactory capsule.

olf, Olfactory capsule.

ot, Auditory capsule.

Auditory capsule.

p.pt, Palato-pterygoid bar.

p.pt, Palate-pterygoid bar.

p.s.l, Prespiracular ligament.

p.s.l, Prespiracular ligament.

r, Rostrum.

r, Podium.

Fig. 16—Fore-limb of Ceratodus.

(C) Visceral Arches.—The skeleton of the visceral arches consists essentially of a series of half-hoops of cartilage, each divided in the adult into a number of segments and connected with its fellow by a median ventral cartilage. The skeleton of arches I. and II. (mandibular and hyoidean) undergoes modifications of special interest (figs. 14 and 15). The lower portion of the mandibular arch becomes greatly thickened to support the lower or hinder edge of the mouth. It forms the primitive lower jaw or “Meckel’s cartilage.” Dorsal to this an outgrowth arises from the anterior face of the arch which supports the upper or anterior margin of the mouth: it is the primitive upper jaw or palato-pterygoquadrate cartilage. The portion of the arch dorsal to the palato-pterygo-quadrate outgrowth may form the suspensorial apparatus of the lower jaw, being fused with the cranium at its upper end. This relatively primitive con-arrangement (protostylic, as it may be termed) occurs in Dipneusti among fishes (cf. fig. 14). More usually this dorsal part of the mandibular arch becomes reduced, its place being occupied by a ligament (pre-spiracular) uniting the jaw apparatus to the chondrocranium, the upper jaw being also attached to the chondrocranium by the ethmopalatine ligament situated more anteriorly. The main attachment, however, of the jaws to the chondrocranium in such a case, as holds for the majority of fishes, is through the enlarged dorsal segment of the hyoid arch (hyomandibular) which articulates at its dorsal end with the chondrocranium, while its ventral end is attached to the hinge region of the jaw by stout ligamentous bands. A skull in which the jaws are suspended in this manner is termed a hyostylic skull (e.g. Scyllium in fig. 15).

(C) Visceral Arches.—The skeleton of the visceral arches mainly consists of a series of half-rings made of cartilage, with each ring divided into several segments in adults and connected to its counterpart by a central ventral cartilage. The skeleton of arches I and II (the mandibular and hyoid arches) undergoes interesting modifications (figs. 14 and 15). The lower part of the mandibular arch gets significantly thicker to support the lower or back edge of the mouth. This forms the primitive lower jaw or "Meckel’s cartilage." Above this, a grow-out from the front face of the arch supports the upper or front margin of the mouth: this is the primitive upper jaw, or palato-pterygoquadrate cartilage. The section of the arch above the palato-pterygoquadrate outgrowth may create the supporting structure of the lower jaw, merging with the skull at its upper end. This relatively primitive arrangement (referred to as protostylic) is seen in Dipneusti among fish (cf. fig. 14). More commonly, this upper part of the mandibular arch shrinks, being replaced by a ligament (pre-spiracular) that connects the jaw structure to the chondrocranium, with the upper jaw also linked to the chondrocranium by the ethmopalatine ligament located more towards the front. The main connection of the jaws to the chondrocranium in these cases, which is typical for most fish, is through the enlarged top segment of the hyoid arch (hyomandibular), which connects at its upper end to the chondrocranium, while its lower end is attached to the jaw hinge area by strong ligament bands. A skull where the jaws hang in this way is called a hyostylic skull (e.g. Scyllium in fig. 15).

In Notidanus (fig. 15, B) there is a large direct articulation of the upper jaw to the chondrocranium in addition to the indirect one through the hyomandibular: such a skull is amphistylic. In Heterodontus the upper jaw is firmly bound to the cranium throughout its length, while in Holocephali (fig. 15, C) complete fusion has taken place, so that the lower jaw appears to articulate directly with the cranium (“auto stylic” condition). In Dipneusti29 (Lepidosiren and Protopterus) the cartilaginous upper jaw never develops (except in its hinder quadrate portion) beyond the condition of a faint rudiment, owing doubtless to its being replaced functionally by precociously developed bone.

In Notidanus (fig. 15, B), there is a significant direct connection of the upper jaw to the chondrocranium, in addition to an indirect connection through the hyomandibular: this type of skull is amphistylic. In Heterodontus, the upper jaw is securely attached to the cranium along its entire length, while in Holocephali (fig. 15, C), there is a complete fusion, so the lower jaw seems to connect directly with the cranium (this is called the “auto stylic” condition). In Dipneusti29 (Lepidosiren and Protopterus), the cartilaginous upper jaw never fully develops (except in its back quadrate portion) beyond a faint remnant, likely because it is functionally replaced by bones that develop early.

(D) Appendicular Skeleton.—The skeleton of the free part of the limb is attached to the limb girdle which lies embedded in the musculature of the body. Each limb girdle is probably to be looked upon as consisting, like the skeleton of the visceral arches, of a pair of lateral half-hoops of cartilage. While in Pleuracanthus the lateral halves are distinct (and segmented like the branchial arches), in living Selachians generally the two halves are completely fused ventrally with one another. The part of the girdle lying dorsal to the articulation of the limb is termed scapular in the case of the pectoral limb, iliac in the case of the pelvic, while the ventral portions are known respectively as coracoid and ischio-pubic.

(D) Appendicular Skeleton.—The skeleton of the free part of the limb is connected to the limb girdle, which is embedded in the body's muscles. Each limb girdle should be seen as made up of a pair of lateral half-hoops of cartilage, similar to the skeleton of the visceral arches. In Pleuracanthus, the lateral halves are separate and segmented like the branchial arches, but in living Selachians, the two halves are typically completely fused together at the bottom. The part of the girdle located above the limb joint is called scapular for the pectoral limb and iliac for the pelvic limb, while the sections below are referred to as coracoid and ischio-pubic, respectively.

Fig. 17.a, Skeleton of pectoral limb of Pleuracanthus. (From Gegenbauer, after Frisch.) b, Skeleton of pectoral limb of Acanthias. (After Gegenbauer.)

In most Teleostomes the primitive pelvic girdle does not develop; in the Dipneusti it is represented by a median unpaired cartilage.

In most Teleostomes, the basic pelvic girdle doesn't develop; in the Dipneusti, it's represented by a single median cartilage piece.

The skeleton of the free limb is probably seen in its most archaic form amongst existing fishes in the biserial archipterygium of Ceratodus (fig. 16). This is indicated by the relative predominance of this type of fin amongst the geologically more ancient fishes. The biserial archipterygium consists of a segmented axial rod, bearing a praeaxial and a postaxial series of jointed rays.

The structure of the free limb is likely found in its most primitive form among current fishes in the biserial archipterygium of Ceratodus (fig. 16). This is highlighted by the relative dominance of this fin type in geologically older fish species. The biserial archipterygium features a segmented central rod, which supports a series of jointed rays on both the front and back sides.

In Protopterus and Lepidosiren the limbs are reduced and the lateral rays have less (Protopterus) or more (Lepidosiren) completely disappeared.

In Protopterus and Lepidosiren, the limbs are smaller, and the side rays have either decreased (Protopterus) or completely vanished (Lepidosiren).

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From Budgett, Trans. Zool. Soc. London, xvi, part vii. From Wiedersheim’s Verg. Anat. der Wirbeltiere, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 18.—Skeleton of Pectoral Limb of Polypterus. a, 30 mm. larva. b, Adult.
From Wiesdersheim’s Verg. Anat. der Wirbeltiere, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 19.—Skeleton of Pectoral Fin of Amia.

In such an archaic Selachian as Pleuracanthus the fin is clearly of the biserial archipterygial type, but the lateral rays are reduced (pectoral) or absent (pelvic) (fig. 17, a) on one side of the axis. In a typical adult Selachian the pectoral fin skeleton has little apparent resemblance to the biserial archipterygium—the numerous outwardly directed rays springing from a series of large basal cartilages (pro-, meso- and metapterygium). The condition in the young (e.g. fig. 17, b, Acanthias) hints strongly, however, at the possibility of the fin skeleton being really a modified biserial archipterygium, and that the basal cartilages represent the greatly enlarged axis which has become fixed back along the side of the body. In Crossopterygians (Polypterus) the highly peculiar fin skeleton (fig. 18) while still in the embryonic cartilaginous stage is clearly referable to a similar condition. In the Actinopterygians—with the increased development of dermal fin rays—there comes about reduction of the primitive limb skeleton. The axis becomes particularly reduced, and the fin comes to be attached directly to the pectoral girdle by a number of basal pieces (Teleosts) probably representing vestigial rays (cf. fig. 19).

In a primitive shark like Pleuracanthus, the fin clearly follows the biserial archipterygial pattern, but the side rays are reduced (pectoral) or missing (pelvic) (fig. 17, a) on one side of the axis. In a typical adult shark, the pectoral fin skeleton doesn’t look much like the biserial archipterygium—its numerous outwardly directed rays come from a series of large basal cartilages (pro-, meso- and metapterygium). However, the situation in young sharks (e.g. fig. 17, b, Acanthias) strongly suggests that the fin skeleton is actually a modified biserial archipterygium, and that the basal cartilages represent the greatly enlarged axis that has been fixed back along the side of the body. In Crossopterygians (Polypterus), the unique fin skeleton (fig. 18) while still in its embryonic cartilaginous stage clearly points to a similar situation. In Actinopterygians, as dermal fin rays become more developed, the primitive limb skeleton begins to shrink. The axis becomes particularly reduced, and the fin attaches directly to the pectoral girdle via several basal pieces (Teleosts) that likely represent vestigial rays (cf. fig. 19).

Views on the general morphology of the fin skeleton are strongly affected by the view held as to the mode of evolution of the fins. By upholders of the lateral fold hypothesis the type of fin skeleton described for Cladoselache30 is regarded as particularly primitive. It is, however, by no means clear that the obscure basal structures figured (Fig. 20) in this fin do not really represent the pressed back axis as in Pleuracanthus.

Views on the overall structure of the fin skeleton are heavily influenced by beliefs about how fins evolved. Supporters of the lateral fold hypothesis see the fin skeleton described for Cladoselache30 as especially primitive. However, it's not at all clear that the unclear basal structures shown (Fig. 20) in this fin don’t actually represent the compressed back axis seen in Pleuracanthus.

The pelvic fin skeleton, while built obviously on the same plan as the pectoral, is liable to much modification and frequently degeneration.

The pelvic fin skeleton, while clearly based on the same design as the pectoral, is prone to a lot of changes and often deterioration.

From Bashford Dean, Mem. N.Y. Acad. of Science. Fig. 21.—Placoid elements of a male
Thorn-back, Raia clavata.
Fig. 20.—Skeleton of Pectoral Fin of Cladoselache.

Osseous or Bony Skeleton.—The most ancient type of bony skeleton appears to be represented in the placoid elements such as are seen in the skin of the Selachian (fig. 21). Each placoid element consists of a spine with a broadly expanded base embedded in the dermis. The base is composed of bone: the spine of the somewhat modified bone known as dentine. Ensheathing the tip of the spine is a layer of extremely hard enamel formed by the inner surface of the ectoderm which originally covered it. Such typical placoid scales are well seen on any ordinary skate. In the groups of fishes above the Selachians, the coating of placoid elements shows various modifications. The spines disappear, though they may be present for a time in early development. The bony basal plates tend to undergo fusion—in certain cases they form a continuous bony cuirass (various Siluroids, trunk-fishes) formed of large plates jointed together at their edges. More usually the plates are small and regular in size. In Crossopterygians and Lepidosteus and in many extinct forms the scales are of the ganoid type, being rhomboidal and having their outer layer composed of hard glistening ganoine. In other Teleostomes the scales are as a rule thin, rounded and overlapping—the so-called cycloid type (fig. 22, A); where the posterior edge shows toothlike projections the scale is termed ctenoid (fig. 22, B). In various Teleosts the scales are vestigial (eel); in others (as in most electric fishes) they have completely disappeared.

Osseous or Bony Skeleton.—The oldest type of bony skeleton seems to be represented by the placoid elements found in the skin of Selachians (fig. 21). Each placoid element consists of a spine with a wide base that is embedded in the dermis. The base is made of bone, while the spine is made of a modified form of bone called dentine. Covering the tip of the spine is a layer of extremely hard enamel formed by the inner surface of the ectoderm that originally protected it. Typical placoid scales can be easily seen on any common skate. In the groups of fish above the Selachians, the placoid elements exhibit various changes. The spines disappear, although they may be present for a while during early development. The bony basal plates tend to fuse; in some cases, they form a continuous bony armor (various Siluroids, trunk-fishes) made of large plates joined at the edges. More commonly, the plates are small and uniform in size. In Crossopterygians and Lepidosteus, and in many extinct forms, the scales are of the ganoid type, which are rhomboidal and have an outer layer made of hard, shiny ganoine. In other Teleostomes, the scales are usually thin, rounded, and overlapping—the so-called cycloid type (fig. 22, A); when the back edge has tooth-like projections, the scale is called ctenoid (fig. 22, B). In various Teleosts, the scales are vestigial (like in eels); in others (like most electric fishes), they have completely vanished.

Fig. 22.—A, Cycloid Scale of Scopelus resplendens (magn.). B, Ctenoid Scale of Lethrinus (magn.).

Teeth.—Certain of the placoid elements belonging to that part of the skin which gives rise to the lining of the stomodaeum have their spines enlarged or otherwise modified to form teeth. In the majority of fishes these remain simple, conical structures: in some of the larger sharks (Carcharodon) they become flattened into trenchant blades with serrated edges: in certain rays (Myliobatis) they form a pavement of flattened plates suited for crushing molluscan shells. In the young Neoceratodus31 there are numerous small conical teeth, the bases of which become connected by a kind of spongework of bony trabeculae. As development goes on a large basal mass is formed which becomes the functional tooth plate of the adult, the original separate denticles disappearing completely. In the other two surviving Dipnoans, similar large teeth exist, though here there is no longer trace in ontogeny of their formation by the basal fusion of originally separate denticles. In the Selachians the bony skeleton is restricted to the placoid elements. In the Teleostomes and the Dipnoans the original cartilaginous skeleton becomes to a great extent unsheathed or replaced by bony tissue. It seems highly probable that the more deeply seated osseous elements occurring in these as in the higher groups arose in the course of evolution by the spreading inwards of bony trabeculae from the bases of the placoid elements. Such a method has been demonstrated as occurring in individual development in the case of certain of the more superficially placed bones.32

Teeth.—Certain placoid elements from the skin that form the lining of the mouth have their spines enlarged or modified to create teeth. In most fish, these remain simple, cone-shaped structures; in some larger sharks (Carcharodon), they become flattened into sharp blades with jagged edges; in certain rays (Myliobatis), they form a flat pavement of plates designed for crushing mollusk shells. In young Neoceratodus31, there are many small conical teeth whose bases connect through a sponge-like structure of bony trabeculae. As development proceeds, a larger base forms, which becomes the functional tooth plate of the adult, causing the original separate denticles to completely disappear. In the other two surviving Dipnoans, similar large teeth are present, but there is no longer evidence of their formation by the fusion of initially separate denticles. In the Selachians, the bony skeleton is limited to the placoid elements. In the Teleostomes and Dipnoans, the original cartilaginous skeleton is largely replaced or covered by bony tissue. It seems very likely that the deeper osseous elements found in these groups, as well as in higher groups, developed through the inward growth of bony trabeculae from the bases of the placoid elements during evolution. This method has been shown to occur in individual development in some of the more superficially located bones.32

The placoid element with its cap of enamel secreted by the ectoderm is probably originally derived from a local thickening of the basement membrane which with the external cuticle may be looked on as the most ancient skeletal structure in the Metazoa. The basal plate appears to have been a later development than the spine; in the palaeozoic Coelolepidae33 the basal plate is apparently not yet developed.

The placoid element, topped with enamel produced by the ectoderm, likely stems from a local thickening of the basement membrane, which along with the outer cuticle, can be seen as the oldest skeletal structure in the Metazoa. The basal plate seems to have developed later than the spine; in the Paleozoic Coelolepidae33, the basal plate doesn’t appear to have developed yet.

Only a brief summary can be given here of the leading features in the osteology of fishes. Care must be taken not to assume that bony elements bearing the same name in fishes and in other groups, or even in the various sub-divisions of the fishes, are necessarily strictly homologous. In all probability bony elements occupying similar positions and described by the same anatomical 261 name have been evolved independently from the ancestral covering of placoid elements.

Only a brief summary can be provided here of the main features in the bone structure of fish. It's important not to assume that bony elements with the same name in fish and other groups, or even in the different subdivisions of fish, are necessarily strictly homologous. It's likely that bony elements found in similar positions and described using the same anatomical name have developed independently from the ancestral covering of placoid elements. 261

From Parker & Haswell’s Text-book of Zoology, by permission of Messrs. Macmillan & Co., Ltd.
Fig. 23.—One of the radialia of the salmon, consisting of three segments, ptg¹, ptg², ptg³, and supporting a dermal fin ray. D.F.R.

Teleostei.—It will be convenient to take as the basis of our description the bony skeleton of such a Teleostean fish as the salmon. In the vertebral column all the cartilaginous elements are replaced by bone. The haemal spines of the turned-up tip of the tail are flattened (hypural bones) and serve to support the caudal fin rays.

Teleostei.—It will be helpful to use the bony skeleton of a Teleostean fish like the salmon as the foundation of our description. In the vertebral column, all the cartilaginous parts are replaced by bone. The haemal spines at the bent tip of the tail are flattened (hypural bones) and support the rays of the caudal fin.

In Argyropelecus and in one or two deep-sea forms the vertebral column remains cartilaginous.

In Argyropelecus and in one or two deep-sea species, the backbone stays cartilaginous.

Apart from the ossification of the radialia which takes place in the adults of bony fishes there exist special supporting structures in the fins (paired as well as median) of all the gnathostomatous fishes and apparently in nature independent of the cartilaginous skeleton. These are known as dermal fin-rays.34 Morphologically they are probably to be looked on (like placoid elements) as local exaggerations of the basement membrane.

Apart from the hardening of the radial bones that occurs in adult bony fish, there are unique support structures in the fins (both paired and median) of all jawed fish, seemingly independent of the cartilaginous skeleton. These are called dermal fin rays.34 Morphologically, they are likely considered (similar to placoid elements) as local expansions of the basement membrane.

In their detailed characters two main types of dermal fin-ray may be recognized. The first of these are horny unjointed rays and occur in the fins of Selachians and at the edge of the fins of Teleostomes (well seen in the small posterior dorsal or “adipose” fin, particularly in Siluroids). The second type of dermal fin-ray is originally arranged in pairs and forms the main supports of the fin in the adult Teleost (fig. 23). The members of each pair are in close contact except proximally where they separate and embrace the tip of one of the radialia. The fin-rays of this second type are frequently branched and jointed: in other cases they form unbranched rigid spines.

In their detailed characteristics, two main types of dermal fin rays can be identified. The first type consists of horny, unjointed rays, which are found in the fins of Selachians and along the edges of the fins of Teleostomes (particularly noticeable in the small posterior dorsal or “adipose” fin, especially in Siluroids). The second type of dermal fin ray is initially arranged in pairs and serves as the main supports of the fin in adult Teleosts (fig. 23). The members of each pair are in close contact, except at the proximal end where they separate to embrace the tip of one of the radialia. The fin rays of this second type are often branched and jointed; in other cases, they form unbranched, rigid spines.

In the angler or fishing-frog (Lophius) the anterior rays of the dorsal fin become greatly elongated to form small fishing-rods, from which depend bait-like lures for the attraction of its prey.

In the angler or fishing-frog (Lophius), the front rays of the dorsal fin are significantly elongated to create small fishing rods, from which hang bait-like lures designed to attract its prey.

From Wiedersheim, Verg. Anat. der Wirbeltiere, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 24.—Chondrocranium of Salmon, seen from the right side.

alsph, Alisphenoid.

alsph, Alisphenoid.

basocc, Basioccipital.

basocc, Basioccipital.

ekteth, Lateral ethmoid.

ekteth, Side ethmoid.

epiot, Epiotic.

epiot, Epiotic.

exocc, Exoccipital.

exocc, Exoccipital.

fr, Frontal.

fr, Front.

opisth, Opisthotic.

opisth, Opisthotic.

orbsph, Orbitosphenoid.

orbsph, orbitosphenoid.

proot, Prootic.

proot, Prootic.

psph, Parasphenoid.

psph, Parasphenoid.

ptero, Pterotic.

ptero, Pterotic.

socc, Supra occipital.

socc, Supra occipital.

sphot, Sphenotic.

sphot, Sphenotic.

vo, Vomer.

Vomer.

In the skull of the adult salmon it is seen that certain parts of the chondrocranium (fig. 24) have been replaced by bone (“cartilage bones”) while other more superficially placed bones (“membrane bones”) cover its surface (fig. 25). Of cartilage bones four are developed round the foramen magnum—the basioccipital, supraoccipital and two exoccipitals. In front of the basioccipital is the basisphenoid with an alisphenoid on each side. The region (presphenoidal) immediately in front of the basisphenoid is unossified, but on each side of it an orbitosphenoid is developed, the two orbitosphenoids being closely approximated in the mesial plane and to a certain extent fused, forming the upper part of the interorbital septum. In the anterior or ethmoidal portion of the cranium the only cartilage bones are a pair of lateral ethmoids lying at the anterior boundary of the orbit. A series of five distinct elements are ossified in the wall of the auditory or otic capsule, the prootic and opisthotic more ventrally, and the sphenotic, pterotic and epiotic more dorsally. The roof of the cranium is covered in by the following dermal bones—parietals (on each side of the supraoccipital), frontals, dermal ethmoid and small nasals, one over each olfactory organ. The floor of the cranium on its oral aspect is ensheathed by the large parasphenoid and the smaller vomer in front of and overlapping it. The cartilaginous lower jaw is ossified posteriorly to form the articular (fig. 25) with a small membrane bone, the angular, ventral to it, but the main part of the jaw is replaced functionally by a large membrane bone which ensheaths it—the dentary—evolved in all probability by the spreading outwards of bony tissue from the bases of the placoid elements (teeth) which it bears. The original upper jaw (palatopterygoid bar) is replaced by a chain of bones—palatine in front, then pterygoid and mesopterygoid, and posteriorly metapterygoid and quadrate, the latter giving articulation to the articular bone of the lower jaw. These representatives of the palatopterygoid bar no longer form the functional upper jaw. This function is performed by membrane bones which have appeared external to the palatopterygoid bar—the premaxilla and maxilla—which carry teeth—and the small scale-like jugal behind them. The quadrate is suspended from the skull as in the Selachians (hyostylic skull) by the upper portion of the hyoid arch—here represented by two bones—the hyomandibular and symplectic. The ventral portion of the hyoid arch is also represented by a chain of bones (stylohyal, epihyal, ceratohyal, hypohyal and the ventral unpaired basihyal), as is also each of the five branchial arches behind it. In addition to the bony elements belonging to the hyoid arch proper a series of membrane bones support the opercular flap. Ventrally there project backwards from the ceratohyal a series of ten overlapping branchiostegal rays, while more dorsally are the broader interopercular, subopercular and opercular.

In the skull of an adult salmon, you can see that some areas of the chondrocranium (fig. 24) have turned into bone (“cartilage bones”), while other more superficial bones (“membrane bones”) cover the surface (fig. 25). Four cartilage bones develop around the foramen magnum: the basioccipital, supraoccipital, and two exoccipitals. In front of the basioccipital is the basisphenoid, with an alisphenoid on each side. The area right in front of the basisphenoid (presphenoidal) remains unossified, but on either side, there’s an orbitosphenoid that is closely spaced in the middle and somewhat fused, forming the upper part of the interorbital septum. In the front or ethmoidal section of the skull, the only cartilage bones are a pair of lateral ethmoids located at the front edge of the orbit. Five distinct elements are ossified in the wall of the auditory capsule: the prootic and opisthotic are positioned more ventrally, and the sphenotic, pterotic, and epiotic are positioned more dorsally. The roof of the skull is covered by the following dermal bones: parietals (on each side of the supraoccipital), frontals, dermal ethmoid, and small nasals, one above each olfactory organ. The floor of the skull on the oral side is covered by the large parasphenoid in front of and overlapping a smaller vomer. The cartilage lower jaw turns into bone at the back to form the articular (fig. 25) with a small membrane bone, the angular, below it. However, the main part of the jaw is functionally replaced by a large membrane bone—the dentary—which likely developed from the outward spread of bony tissue from the base of the placoid structures (teeth) that it holds. The original upper jaw (palatopterygoid bar) is replaced by a chain of bones: palatine at the front, then pterygoid and mesopterygoid, and finally metapterygoid and quadrate at the back, the last providing a connection to the articular bone of the lower jaw. These components of the palatopterygoid bar no longer serve as the functional upper jaw. That role is now taken on by membrane bones that have formed outside the palatopterygoid bar—the premaxilla and maxilla, which carry teeth—and the small scale-like jugal behind them. The quadrate is attached to the skull, like in Selachians (hyostylic skull), by the upper part of the hyoid arch, represented here by two bones—the hyomandibular and symplectic. The lower part of the hyoid arch consists of a series of bones (stylohyal, epihyal, ceratohyal, hypohyal, and the unpaired ventral basihyal), and there are also five branchial arches behind it. Along with the bony elements that belong to the hyoid arch, a series of membrane bones support the opercular flap. Ventrally, a series of ten overlapping branchiostegal rays project backward from the ceratohyal, while more dorsally are the broader interopercular, subopercular, and opercular bones.

From Wiedersheim, Verg. Anat. der Wirbeltiere, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 25.—Complete Skull of Salmon from left side.

art, Articular.

art, Articulate.

branchiost, Branchiostegal.

branchiost, Branchiostegal.

dent, Dentary.

dent, Dent.

epiot, Epiotic.

epiot, Epiotic.

eth, Dermal ethmoid.

eth, Dermal ethmoid.

fr, Frontal.

Frontal.

hyom, Hyomandibular.

hyom, Hyomandibular.

intop, Interopercular.

intop, Interoperable.

Jug, Jugal.

Jug, Jugal.

mpt, Mesopterygoid.

mpt, Mesopterygoid.

mtpt, Metapterygoid.

mtpt, Metapterygoid.

mx, Maxilla.

mx, Upper jaw.

nas, Nasal.

nas, Nasal.

op, Opercular.

op, Opercular.

pal, Palatine.

Pal, Palatine.

par, Parietal.

Par, Parietal.

pmx, Premaxilla.

pmx, Premaxilla.

preop, Preopercular.

preop, Preoperative.

pt, Pterygoid.

Pterygoid.

pter, Pterotic.

pter, Pterotic.

Quad, Quadrate.

Square, Quadrate.

socc, Supraoccipital.

, Supraoccipital.

sphot, Sphenotic.

sphot, Sphenotic.

subop, Subopercular.

subop, Subopercular.

sympl, Symplectic.

sympl, Symplectic.

Zunge, Tongue.

Zunge, Tongue.

In addition to the bones already enumerated there is present a ring of circumorbital bones, a preopercular, behind and external to the hyomandibular and quadrate, and squamosal, external to the hinder end of the auditory capsule.

In addition to the already mentioned bones, there is a ring of bones around the eye socket, a preopercular bone located behind and outside the hyomandibular and quadrate bones, and a squamosal bone, situated outside the back end of the auditory capsule.

262

262

In the salmon, pike, and various other Teleosts, extensive regions of the chondrocranium persist in the adult, while in others (e.g. the cod) the replacement by bone is practically complete. Bony elements may be developed in addition to those noticed in the salmon.

In salmon, pike, and several other Teleosts, large areas of the chondrocranium remain in adults, while in some others (e.g. cod) the bone replacement is almost total. Bony structures may develop alongside those seen in salmon.

In the sturgeon the chondrocranium is ensheathed by numerous membrane bones, but cartilage bones are absent. In the Crossopterygians35 the chondrocranium persists to a great extent in the adult, but portions of it are replaced by cartilage bones—the most interesting being a large sphenethmoid like that of the frog. Numerous membrane bones cover the chondrocranium externally. In the Dipneusti36 the chondrocranium is strengthened in the adult by numerous bones. One of the most characteristic is the great palatopterygoid bone which develops very early by the spreading of ossification backwards from the tooth bases, and whose early development probably accounts for the non-development of the palatopterygoid cartilage.

In sturgeons, the chondrocranium is covered by several membrane bones, but there are no cartilage bones present. In the Crossopterygians35, the chondrocranium largely remains in adults, although some parts are replaced by cartilage bones—the most notable being a large sphenethmoid similar to that of frogs. Several membrane bones externally cover the chondrocranium. In Dipneusti36, the chondrocranium is reinforced in adults by many bones. One of the most distinctive is the large palatopterygoid bone, which forms very early as ossification spreads backward from the tooth bases, and this early development likely explains why the palatopterygoid cartilage does not develop.

Appendicular Skeleton.—The primitive pectoral girdle, which in the Dipneusti is strengthened by a sheath of bone, becomes in the Teleostomes reduced in size (small scapula and coracoid bones) and replaced functionally by a secondary shoulder girdle formed of superficially placed membrane bones (supraclavicular and cleithrum or “clavicle,” with, in addition in certain cases, an infraclavicular and one or two postclavicular elements), and connected at its dorsal end with the skull by a post-temporal bone.

Appendicular Skeleton.—The primitive pectoral girdle, which is reinforced by a layer of bone in the Dipneusti, becomes smaller in the Teleostomes (with smaller scapula and coracoid bones) and is functionally replaced by a secondary shoulder girdle made up of outer membrane bones (supraclavicular and cleithrum or "clavicle," and in some cases, an infraclavicular and one or two postclavicular bones), which connects at its upper end to the skull via a post-temporal bone.

The pelvic girdle is in Teleostomes completely absent as a rule.

The pelvic girdle is usually completely absent in Teleostomes.

The skeleton of the free limb undergoes ossification to a less or greater extent in the Teleostomes.

The skeleton of the free limb undergoes bone formation to varying degrees in the Teleostomes.

In Polypterus the pectoral fin (fig. 18, B) shows three ossifications in the basal part of the fin—pro-, meso- and metapterygium. Of these the metapterygium probably represents the ossified skeletal axis: while the propterygium and also the numerous diverging radials probably represent the lateral rays of one side of the archipterygium.

In Polypterus, the pectoral fin (fig. 18, B) has three bone structures in the base of the fin—pro-, meso-, and metapterygium. Of these, the metapterygium likely serves as the ossified skeletal center, while the propterygium and the many branching radials probably represent the side rays of one side of the archipterygium.

In the Teleostomes the place of the pelvic girdle is taken functionally by an element apparently formed by the fusion of the basal portions of several radials.

In the Teleostomes, the function of the pelvic girdle is taken over by an element that seems to be formed by the fusion of the base parts of several radials.

Vascular System.—The main components of the blood vascular system in the lower vertebrates are the following: (1) a single or double dorsal aorta lying between the enteron and notochord; (2) a ventral vessel lying beneath the enteron; and (3) a series of paired hoop-like aortic arches connecting dorsal and ventral vessels round the sides of the pharynx. The blood-stream passes forwards towards the head in the ventral vessel, dorsalwards through the aortic arches, and tailwards in the dorsal aorta.

Vascular System.—The main parts of the blood vascular system in lower vertebrates include: (1) a single or double dorsal aorta located between the gut and notochord; (2) a ventral vessel situated beneath the gut; and (3) a series of paired, hoop-shaped aortic arches that connect the dorsal and ventral vessels around the sides of the pharynx. The blood flow moves forward towards the head in the ventral vessel, upward through the aortic arches, and backward in the dorsal aorta.

The dorsal aorta is single throughout the greater part of its extent, but for a greater or less extent at its anterior end (circulus cephalicus) it consists of two paired aortic roots. It is impossible to say whether the paired or the unpaired condition is the more primitive, general morphological conditions being in favour of the latter, while embryological evidence rather supports the former. The dorsal aorta, which receives its highly oxygenated blood from the aortic arches, is the main artery for the distribution of this oxygenated blood. Anteriorly the aortic roots are continued forwards as the dorsal carotid arteries to supply the head region. A series of paired, segmentally-arranged arteries pass from the dorsal aorta to supply the muscular body wall, and the branches which supply the pectoral and pelvic fins (subclavian or brachial artery, and iliac artery) are probably specially enlarged members of this series of segmental vessels. Besides these paired vessels a varying number of unpaired branches pass from dorsal aorta to the wall of the alimentary canal with its glandular diverticula (coeliac, mesenteric, rectal).

The dorsal aorta is mostly a single vessel, but at its front end (circulus cephalicus), it splits into two paired aortic roots. It's hard to determine whether the paired or unpaired form is more primitive; general morphology leans towards the unpaired being older, while embryological evidence tends to support the paired structure. The dorsal aorta, which gets its oxygen-rich blood from the aortic arches, serves as the primary artery for distributing this oxygenated blood. Toward the front, the aortic roots extend as the dorsal carotid arteries to deliver blood to the head. A series of paired arteries arranged in segments branch off from the dorsal aorta to supply the muscles of the body wall, and the branches that go to the pectoral and pelvic fins (subclavian or brachial artery, and iliac artery) are likely specialized enlarged versions of these segmental vessels. In addition to these paired vessels, several unpaired branches connect the dorsal aorta to the wall of the digestive tract and its glandular extensions (coeliac, mesenteric, rectal).

The ventral vessel undergoes complicated changes and is represented in the adults of existing fishes by a series of important structures. Its post-anal portion comes with the atrophy of the post-anal gut to lie close under the caudal portion of the dorsal aorta and is known as the caudal vein. This assumes a secondary connexion with, and drains its blood into, the posterior cardinal veins (see below). In the region between cloaca and liver the ventral vessel becomes much branched or even reticular and—serving serving to convey the food-laden blood from the wall of the enteron to the capillary network of the liver—is known as the hepatic portal vein. The short section in front of the liver is known as the hepatic vein and this conveys the blood, which has been treated by the liver, into a section of the ventral vessel, which has become highly muscular and is rhythmically contractile. This enlarged muscular portion, in which the contractility—probably once common to the main vessels throughout their extent—has become concentrated, serves as a pump and is known as the heart. Finally the precardiac section of the ventral vessel—the ventral aorta—conveys the blood from heart to aortic arches.

The ventral vessel experiences complex changes and is represented in adult fish by several important structures. Its post-anal section appears as the post-anal gut shrinks and lies close beneath the tail part of the dorsal aorta, and is called the caudal vein. This vein connects secondarily and drains blood into the posterior cardinal veins (see below). In the area between the cloaca and liver, the ventral vessel becomes highly branched or even net-like, and—functioning to carry nutrient-rich blood from the wall of the gut to the capillary network of the liver—is called the hepatic portal vein. The short segment in front of the liver is known as the hepatic vein, which carries the blood processed by the liver into a part of the ventral vessel that has become very muscular and rhythmically contracts. This enlarged muscular section, where contractility—which was likely once common to the major vessels along their length—has concentrated, acts as a pump and is known as the heart. Finally, the precardiac section of the ventral vessel—the ventral aorta—transports blood from the heart to the aortic arches.

From Boas, Lehrbuch der Zoologie, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 26.—Diagram to illustrate the condition of the Conus in an Elasmobranch (A), Amia (B) and a typical Teleost (C).

a, Atrium.

a, Atrium.

b.a, Bulbus aortae.

b.a, Aortic bulb.

c.a, Conus arteriosus.

c.a, Conus arteriosus.

s.v, Sinus venosus.

Sinus venosus.

v,v′, Valves.

Valves.

v.a, Ventral aorta.

ventral aorta

vt, Ventricle.

Ventricle.

In addition to the vessels mentioned a large paired vein is developed in close relation to the renal organ which it serves to drain. This is the posterior cardinal. An anterior prolongation (anterior cardinal) serves to drain the blood from the head region. From the point of junction of anterior and posterior cardinal a large transverse vessel leads to the heart (ductus Cuvieri).

In addition to the mentioned vessels, there is a large paired vein that develops closely related to the kidney it drains. This is the posterior cardinal vein. An anterior extension (anterior cardinal) drains blood from the head region. From where the anterior and posterior cardinal veins join, a large transverse vessel leads to the heart (ductus Cuvieri).

Heart.—Originally a simple tube curved into a somewhat S-shape, the heart, by enlargements, constrictions and fusions of its parts, becomes converted into the complex, compact heart of the adult. In this we recognize the following portions—(1) Sinus venosus, (2) Atrium, (3) Ventricle. A fourth chamber, the conus arteriosus, the enlarged and contractile hinder end of the ventral aorta, is also physiologically a part of the heart. The sinus venosus receives the blood from the great veins (ductus Cuvieri and hepatic veins). It—like the atrium which it enters by an opening guarded by two lateral valves—has thin though contractile walls. The atrium is as a rule single, but in the Dipnoans, in correlation with the importance of their pulmonary breathing, it is incompletely divided into a right and a left auricle. In Neoceratodus the incomplete division is effected by the presence of a longitudinal shelf projecting into the atrial cavity from its posterior wall. The opening of the sinus venosus is to the right of this shell, that of the pulmonary vein to the left. In Prototerus and Lepidosiren a nearly complete septum is formed by the fusion of trabeculae, there being only a minute opening in it posteriorly. The atrium opens by a wide opening guarded by two or more flap valves provided with chordae tendineae into the ventricle.

Heart.—Initially a simple tube bent into a roughly S-shape, the heart transforms into the complex, compact organ of the adult through growth, narrowing, and fusion of its parts. In this structure, we identify the following sections—(1) Sinus venosus, (2) Atrium, (3) Ventricle. There's also a fourth chamber, the conus arteriosus, which is the enlarged and contractile rear end of the ventral aorta, and is considered a physiological part of the heart. The sinus venosus collects blood from the large veins (ductus Cuvieri and hepatic veins). It—like the atrium, which it connects to through an opening secured by two lateral valves—has thin, yet contractile walls. The atrium is generally singular, but in Dipnoans, due to the significance of their lung breathing, it is partially divided into a right and left auricle. In Neoceratodus, this partial division occurs because of a longitudinal shelf extending into the atrial cavity from the back wall. The opening of the sinus venosus is located to the right of this shelf, while that of the pulmonary vein is to the left. In Prototerus and Lepidosiren, a nearly complete septum forms through the fusion of trabeculae, leaving only a small opening at the back. The atrium opens into the ventricle through a wide passage protected by two or more flap valves that have chordae tendineae.

After Newton Parker, from Trans. of the Royal Irish Academy, vol. xxx.
Fig. 27.—Venous System of Protopterus, as seen from ventral side.

a, Atrium.

a, Atrium.

ac, Anterior cardinal.

Anterior cardinal.

an.v, Anastomotic vein.

an.v, Anastomotic vein.

c, Intestine.

Intestine.

c.v, Caudal vein.

c.v, Caudal vein.

f.v, Femoral vein.

Femoral vein.

g.b, Gall-bladder.

g.b, Gallbladder.

h.v, Hepatic vein.

Hepatic vein.

i.j.v, Inferior jugular vein.

Inferior jugular vein.

i.v.c, Posterior vena cava.

i.v.c, Posterior vena cava.

k, Kidney.

Kidney.

l, Liver.

Liver.

ov.v, Ovarian veins.

ov.v, Ovarian veins.

p, Pericardium.

Pericardium.

p.c.v, Left posterior cardinal.

p.c.v, Left posterior vein.

p.v′, Parietal veins.

p.v′, Parietal veins.

r.p.v, Renal portal.

r.p.v, Renal portal.

s, Stomach.

Stomach.

s.b.v, Subclavian.

Subclavian.

The ventricle, in correspondence with it being the main pumping apparatus, has its walls much thickened by the development of muscular trabeculae which, in the lower forms separated by wide spaces in which most of the blood is contained, become in the Teleostomes so enlarged as to give the wall a compact character, the spaces being reduced to small scattered openings on its inner surface. In the Dipnoans the ventricle, like the atrium, is incompletely divided into a right and left ventricle. In Ceratodus this is effected by an extension of the interauricular shelf into the ventricle. In Lepidosiren the separation of the two ventricles is complete but for a small perforation anteriorly, the heart in this respect showing a closer approximation to the condition in the higher vertebrates than is found in any Amphibians or in any reptiles except the Crocodilia. The conus arteriosus is of interest from the valvular arrangements in its interior to prevent regurgitation of blood from ventral aorta into ventricle. In their simplest condition, as seen e.g. in an embryonic Selachian, these arrangements consist of three, four or more prominent longitudinal ridges projecting into the lumen of the conus, and serving to obliterate the lumen when jammed 263 together by the systole of the conus. As development goes on each of these ridges becomes segmented into a row of pocket valves with their openings directed anteriorly so that regurgitation causes them to open out and occlude the lumen by their free edges meeting. Amongst the Teleostomes the lower ganoids show a similar development of longitudinal rows of valves in the conus. In Amia (fig. 26, B), however, the conus is shortened and the number of valves in each longitudinal row is much reduced. This leads to the condition found in the Teleosts (fig. 26, O), where practically all trace of the conus has disappeared, a single circle of valves representing a last survivor of each row (save in a few exceptional cases, e.g. Albula, Tarpen, Osteoglossum, where two valves of each row are present).

The ventricle, being the main pumping chamber, has much thicker walls due to the development of muscular trabeculae. In lower species, these are separated by wide spaces that hold most of the blood, but in Teleostomes, they grow so large that the wall appears compact, with the spaces reduced to small scattered openings on the inner surface. In Dipnoans, the ventricle, like the atrium, is not completely divided into a right and left ventricle. In Ceratodus, this division happens through an extension of the interauricular shelf into the ventricle. In Lepidosiren, the two ventricles are fully separated except for a small hole at the front, making the heart's structure in this regard more similar to higher vertebrates than what is seen in any amphibians or any reptiles except for the Crocodilia. The conus arteriosus is noteworthy because of the valvular arrangements inside it that prevent blood from flowing back from the ventral aorta into the ventricle. In the simplest form, such as in an embryonic Selachian, these arrangements consist of three to four or more prominent longitudinal ridges projecting into the lumen of the conus, which close off the lumen when pushed together by the conus' contraction. As development continues, each ridge segments into a row of pocket valves with openings directed forward, so that if regurgitation occurs, they open and block the lumen as their free edges meet. Among Teleostomes, lower ganoids show similar development of longitudinal rows of valves in the conus. In Amia (fig. 26, B), however, the conus is shorter, and the number of valves in each longitudinal row is significantly reduced. This leads to the condition found in Teleosts (fig. 26, O), where virtually all trace of the conus has vanished, leaving a single circle of valves as the last remnants of each row (except in a few exceptional cases, e.g. Albula, Tarpen, Osteoglossum, where two valves from each row are present).

In Front of the conus vestige of the Teleost there is present a thick walled bulbus aortae differing from the conus in not being rhythmically contractile, its walls being on the contrary richly provided with elastic tissue.

In front of the conus vestige of the Teleost, there is a thick-walled bulbus aortae that differs from the conus in that it isn't rhythmically contractile; instead, its walls are well-supplied with elastic tissue.

The Dipnoans37 show an important advance on the conus as in atrium and ventricle. The conus has a characteristic spiral twist. Within it in Neoceratodus are a number of longitudinal rows of pocket valves. One of these rows is marked out by the very large size of its valves and by the fact that they are not distinct from one another but even in the adult form a continuous, spirally-running, longitudinal fold. This ridge projecting into the lumen of the conus divides it incompletely into two channels, the one beginning (i.e. at its hinder end) on the left side and ending in front ventrally, the other beginning on the right and ending dorsally. In Protopterus a similar condition occurs, only in the front end of the conus a second spiral fold is present opposite the first and, meeting this, completes the division of the conus cavity into two separate parts. The rows of pocket valves which do not enter into the formation of the spiral folds are here greatly reduced.

The Dipnoans37 represent a significant advancement from the conus as seen in the atrium and ventricle. The conus has a distinct spiral twist. Inside it, in Neoceratodus, there are several long-term rows of pocket valves. One of these rows is notable for the large size of its valves and the fact that they are not separate from each other; even in the adult form, they form a continuous, spiraling, longitudinal fold. This ridge that projects into the lumen of the conus incompletely divides it into two channels: one starts (i.e., at its back end) on the left side and ends in front ventrally, while the other starts on the right and ends dorsally. In Protopterus, a similar condition occurs, but at the front end of the conus, there is a second spiral fold opposite the first, which, when it meets, completes the division of the conus cavity into two separate parts. The rows of pocket valves that do not contribute to the formation of the spiral folds are significantly reduced here.

These arrangements in the conus of the Dipnoans are of the highest morphological interest, pointing in an unmistakable way towards the condition found in the higher lung-breathing vertebrates. Of the two cavities into which the conus is partially divided in the Dipneusti the one which begins posteriorly on the right receives the (venous) blood from the right side of the heart, and ending up anteriorly dorsal to the other cavity communicates only with aortic arches V. and VI. In the higher vertebrates this cavity has become completely split off to form the root of the pulmonary arteries, and a result of aortic arch V. receiving its blood along with the functionally much more important VI. (the pulmonary arch) from this special part of the conus has been the almost complete disappearance of this arch (V.) in all the higher vertebrates.

These arrangements in the conus of the Dipnoans are extremely interesting from a morphological standpoint, clearly indicating the condition present in the more advanced lung-breathing vertebrates. Of the two chambers that partially divide the conus in the Dipneusti, the one that starts at the back on the right collects the (venous) blood from the right side of the heart and, ending at the front above the other chamber, only connects to aortic arches V and VI. In higher vertebrates, this chamber has completely separated to form the root of the pulmonary arteries, and as a result of aortic arch V receiving its blood along with the much more functionally significant arch VI (the pulmonary arch) from this specific part of the conus, arch V has almost entirely disappeared in all higher vertebrates.

Fig. 28.—Venous System of Polypterus 30 mm. larva (dorsal view).

a.c.v, Anterior cardinal vein.

Anterior cardinal vein

d.C, Ductus Cuvieri

d.C, Ductus Cuvieri

.

h.v, Hepatic vein.

h.v, Hepatic vein.

i.j.v, Inferior jugular vein.

i.j.v, Internal jugular vein.

ir.v, Inter-renal vein.

Inter-renal vein.

l.v, Lateral cutaneous vein.

Lateral cutaneous vein.

p.c.v, Posterior cardinal vein.

, Posterior cardinal vein.

p.n, Pronephros.

Pronephros.

p.v, Pulmonary vein.

Pulmonary vein.

s, Subclavian vein.

Subclavian vein.

s.v, Sinus venosus.

Sinus venosus.

th, Thyroid.

Thyroid.

v, Vein from pharyngeal wall.

Vein from throat wall.

* Anterior portion of left posterior cardinal vein.

* Front part of the left posterior cardinal vein.

Arterial System.—There are normally six aortic arches laid down corresponding with the visceral arches, the first (mandibular) and second (hyoidean) undergoing atrophy to a less or greater extent in post-embryonic life. Where an external gill is present the aortic arch loops out into this, a kind of short-circuiting of the blood-stream taking place as the external gill atrophies. As the walls of the clefts assume their respiratory function the aortic arch becomes broken into a network of capillaries in its respiratory portion, and there is now distinguished a ventral afferent and a dorsal efferent portion of each arch. Complicated developmental changes, into which it is unnecessary to enter,38 may lead to each efferent vessel draining the two sides of a single cleft instead of the adjacent walls of two clefts as it does primitively. In the Crossopterygians and Dipnoans as in the higher vertebrates the sixth aortic arch gives off the pulmonary artery to the lung. Among the Actinopterygians this, probably primitive, blood-supply to the lung (swimbladder) persists only in Amia.

Arterial System.—There are usually six aortic arches formed that correspond with the visceral arches, with the first (mandibular) and second (hyoidean) becoming less prominent to varying degrees as the organism develops after embryonic life. When an external gill is present, the aortic arch extends into it, creating a kind of short-circuit of the blood flow as the external gill diminishes. As the walls of the clefts take on their breathing function, the aortic arch changes into a network of capillaries in its respiratory section, and we can now identify a ventral afferent and a dorsal efferent part of each arch. Complex developmental changes, which we don't need to get into, may cause each efferent vessel to drain the two sides of a single cleft instead of the adjacent walls of two clefts as it does in its primitive form. In Crossopterygians and Dipnoans, as well as in higher vertebrates, the sixth aortic arch supplies the pulmonary artery to the lung. Among Actinopterygians, this likely primitive blood supply to the lung (swimbladder) only remains in Amia.

Venous System.—The most interesting variations from the general plan outlined have to do with the arrangements of the posterior cardinals. In the Selachians these are in their anterior portion wide and sinuslike, while in the region of the kidney they become broken into a sinusoidal network supplied by the postrenal portion now known as the renal portal vein. In the Teleostomes the chief noteworthy feature is the tendency to asymmetry, the right posterior cardinal being frequently considerably larger than the left and connected with it by transverse anastomotic vessels, the result being that most of the blood from the two kidneys passes forwards by the right posterior cardinal. The Dipnoans (fig. 27) show a similar asymmetry, but here the anterior end of the right posterior cardinal disappears, being replaced functionally by a new vessel which conveys the blood from the right posterior cardinal direct to the sinus venosus instead of to the outer end of the ductus Cuvieri. This new vessel is the posterior vena cava which thus in the series of vertebrates appears for the first time in the Dipneusti.

Venous System.—The most interesting differences from the general outline have to do with the arrangement of the posterior cardinals. In Selachians, these are wide and sinus-like in the front part, while in the kidney area they break into a sinusoidal network supplied by the postrenal section, now called the renal portal vein. In Teleostomes, the main feature is the tendency toward asymmetry, with the right posterior cardinal often being significantly larger than the left and linked to it by transverse anastomotic vessels. As a result, most of the blood from the two kidneys flows forward through the right posterior cardinal. The Dipnoans (fig. 27) show similar asymmetry, but here the front end of the right posterior cardinal is lost and functionally replaced by a new vessel that directs blood from the right posterior cardinal straight to the sinus venosus instead of to the outer end of the ductus Cuvieri. This new vessel is the posterior vena cava, which first appears in the Dipneusti among vertebrates.

Pulmonary Veins.—In Polypterus (fig. 28) the blood is drained from the lungs by a pulmonary vein on each side which unites in front with its fellow and opens into the great hepatic vein behind the heart. In the Dipnoans the conjoined pulmonary veins open directly into the left section of the atrium as in higher forms. In the Actinopterygians with their specialized air-bladder the blood passes to the heart via posterior cardinals, or hepatic portal, or—a probably more primitive condition—directly into the left ductus Cuvieri (Amia).

Pulmonary Veins.—In Polypterus (fig. 28), blood from the lungs is drained by a pulmonary vein on each side that joins together in front and opens into the large hepatic vein behind the heart. In the Dipnoans, the combined pulmonary veins open directly into the left part of the atrium, similar to higher animals. In Actinopterygians, which have a specialized air bladder, blood flows to the heart through the posterior cardinals, or hepatic portal, or—likely a more primitive state—directly into the left ductus Cuvieri (Amia).

Lymphatics.—More or less irregular lymphatic spaces occur in the fishes as elsewhere and, as in the Amphibia, localized muscular developments are present forming lymph hearts.

Lymphatics.—More or less irregular lymphatic spaces are found in fish, just like in other animals, and, similar to amphibians, there are specific muscle developments that create lymph hearts.

Central Nervous System.—The neural tube shows in very early stages an anterior dilated portion which forms the rudiment of the brain in contradistinction to the hinder, narrower part which forms the spinal cord. This enlargement of the brain is correlated with the increasing predominance of the nerve 264 centres at the anterior end of the body which tend to assume more and more complete control over those lying behind.

Central Nervous System.—The neural tube initially has a wider front section that develops into the basic structure of the brain, in contrast to the thinner back section that becomes the spinal cord. This expansion of the brain is linked to the growing dominance of the nerve centres at the front of the body, which take on more and more control over those located further back. 264

Spinal Cord.—A remarkable peculiarity occurs in the sun fishes (Molidae), where the body is greatly shortened and where the spinal cord undergoes a corresponding abbreviation so as to be actually shorter than the brain.

Spinal Cord.—An interesting feature is found in sunfish (Molidae), where the body is significantly shortened, and the spinal cord is correspondingly shortened to the point of being actually shorter than the brain.

Brain.—It is customary to divide the brain into three main regions, fore-, mid-, and hind-brain, as in the most familiar vertebrates there is frequently seen in the embryo a division of the primitive brain dilatation into three vesicles lying one behind the other. A consideration of the development of the brain in the various main groups of vertebrates shows that these divisions are not of equal importance. In those archaic groups where the egg is not encumbered by the presence of a large mass of yolk it is usual for the brain to show in its early stages a division into two main regions which we may term the primitive fore-brain or cerebrum and the primitive hind-brain or rhombencephalon. Only later does the hinder part of the primitive fore-brain become marked off as mid-brain. In the fully developed brain it is customary to recognize the series of regions indicated below, though the boundaries between these regions are not mathematical lines or surfaces any more than are any other biological boundaries:—

Brain.—It’s common to divide the brain into three main areas: the fore-brain, mid-brain, and hind-brain. In many familiar vertebrates, you can often see the early division of the primitive brain into three vesicles lined up one behind the other. Looking at how the brain develops in different major groups of vertebrates shows that these divisions aren’t equally significant. In older groups where the egg doesn’t have a large yolk mass, the brain usually starts off divided into two main parts: the primitive fore-brain or cerebrum, and the primitive hind-brain or rhombencephalon. Only later does the back part of the primitive fore-brain get defined as the mid-brain. In the fully developed brain, we typically recognize the series of regions outlined below, although the boundaries between these regions are not exact lines or surfaces, just like any other biological boundaries:—

Rhombencephalon (Hind-brain) Myelencephalon (Medulla oblongata).
Metencephalon (Cerebellum).
Cerebrum (Primitive Fore-brain) Mesencephalon (Mid-brain).
Thalamencephalon (Diencephalon).
[Hemispheres (Telencephalon).]

The myelencephalon or medulla oblongata calls for no special remark, except that in the case of Torpedo there is a special upward bulging of its floor on each side of the middle line forming the electric lobe and containing the nucleus of origin of the nerves to the electric organ.

The myelencephalon, or medulla oblongata, doesn’t require any special mention, except that in the case of Torpedo, there is a noticeable upward bulge on each side of the midline, creating the electric lobe that contains the origin of the nerves going to the electric organ.

A and B from Wiedersheim, by permission of Gustav Fischer.
Fig. 29.—Brain of Scyllium (A), Salmo (B) and Lepidosiren (C). The three figures are not drawn to the same scale.

cer, Cerebellum.

Cerebellum.

c.h, Cerebral hemisphere.

Cerebral hemisphere.

th, Thalamencephalon.

Thalamencephalon.

f.b, Primitive fore-brain (in B the line points to the thickened wall of the fore-brain, the so-called “basal ganglia”).

f.b, Primitive forebrain (in B the line points to the thickened wall of the forebrain, the so-called “basal ganglia”).

G.p, Pineal body.

G.p, Pineal gland.

m.b, Roof of mid-brain, optic lobes, tectum opticum.

m.b, Roof of the mid-brain, optic lobes, tectum opticum.

o.l, Olfactory lobe.

o.l, Smell brain region.

IV.v, Fourth ventricle.

IV. Fourth ventricle.

The cerebellum occurs in its simplest form in lampreys and Dipnoans (fig. 29, C), where it forms a simple band-like thickening of the anterior end of the roof of the hind-brain. In Selachians it is very large and bulges upwards, forming a conspicuous organ in a dorsal view of the brain (fig. 29, A). In Teleosts (fig. 29, B) the cerebellum is also large. It projects back as a great tongue-like structure over the roof of the fourth ventricle, while in front it dips downwards and projects under the roof of the mid-brain forming a highly characteristic valvula cerebelli. A valvula cerebelli occurs also in ganoids, while in the Crossopterygians a similar extension of the cerebellum projects backwards into the IV. ventricle or cavity of the hind-brain (fig. 30).

The cerebellum is found in its most basic form in lampreys and Dipnoans (fig. 29, C), where it appears as a simple band-like thickening at the front of the roof of the hindbrain. In Selachians, it is quite large and bulges upwards, creating a noticeable structure when viewed from above the brain (fig. 29, A). In Teleosts (fig. 29, B), the cerebellum is also substantial. It extends back like a large tongue over the roof of the fourth ventricle, while in the front, it dips down and projects under the roof of the midbrain, forming a distinctly shaped valvula cerebelli. A valvula cerebelli is also present in ganoids, and in Crossopterygians, a similar extension of the cerebellum projects backward into the fourth ventricle or cavity of the hindbrain (fig. 30).

The mesencephalon is a conspicuous structure in the fishes from its greatly developed roof (tectum opticum) which receives the end pencils of the optic nerve. Normally it projects upwards as a pair of large optic lobes, but in the Dipnoans (fig. 29, C) the lateral thickening is not sufficiently great to cause obvious lateral swellings in external view.

The mesencephalon is a prominent structure in fish due to its well-developed roof (tectum opticum) that receives the end fibers of the optic nerve. Typically, it extends upward as a pair of large optic lobes, but in Dipnoans (fig. 29, C), the lateral thickening isn't substantial enough to create noticeable external swellings.

Fig. 30.—Median Longitudinal Section through the brain of Lepidosiren and Polypterus. In the upper figure (Lepidosiren) the habenular ganglion and hemisphere are shown in outline though not actually present in a median section.

a.c, Anterior commissure.

Anterior commissure.

cer, Cerebellum.

Cerebellum.

d.s, Dorsal sac.

Dorsal sac.

g.h, Habenular ganglion.

g.h, Habenular ganglion.

h.c, Habenular commissure.

Habenular commissure.

i.g, Infundibular gland.

Infundibular gland.

l.p, Lateral plexus.

l.p, Lateral plexus.

o.c, Optic chiasma.

o.c, Optic chiasm.

pall, Pallium.

, Pallium.

par, Paraphysis.

Paraphysis.

pin, Pineal body.

pin, Pineal gland.

p.c, Posterior commissure.

Posterior commissure.

s.v, Saccus vasculosus.

s.v, Saccus vasculosus.

t.o, Tectum opticum.

t.o, Tectum opticum.

v.III, Third ventricle.

v.III, Third ventricle.

v.IV, Fourth ventricle.

IV, Fourth ventricle.

vel, Velum transversum.

vel, Velum transversum.

The thalamencephalon is one of the most interesting parts of the brain from its remarkable uniformity throughout the Vertebrata. Even in Amphioxus the appearance of a sagittal section strongly suggests vestiges of a once present thalamencephalon.39 The roof—like that of the myelencephalon—remains to a great extent membranous, forming with the closely applied pia mater a vascular roof to the III. ventricle. Frequently a transverse fold of the roof dips down into the III. ventricle forming the velum transversum (fig. 30).

The thalamencephalon is one of the most fascinating parts of the brain due to its remarkable consistency across different vertebrates. Even in Amphioxus, a cross-section strongly suggests remnants of a previously existing thalamencephalon.39 The roof, similar to that of the myelencephalon, largely remains membranous, creating a vascular roof over the III ventricle along with the closely positioned pia mater. Often, a transverse fold of the roof dips down into the III ventricle, forming the velum transversum (fig. 30).

The side walls of the thalamencephalon are greatly thickened forming the thalamus (epithalamus and hypothalamus), while a ganglionic thickening of the roof posteriorly on each side forms the ganglia habenulae which receive olfactory fibres from the base of the hemisphere. The habenular ganglia are unusually large in the lampreys and are here strongly asymmetrical, the right being the larger.

The side walls of the thalamencephalon are significantly thickened, creating the thalamus (epithalamus and hypothalamus), while a cluster of nerve cells at the back of the roof on each side creates the ganglia habenulae, which receive olfactory fibers from the base of the hemisphere. The habenular ganglia are unusually large in lampreys and are notably asymmetrical, with the right being the larger.

The floor of the thalamencephalon projects downwards and backwards as the infundibulum. The side walls of this are thickened to form characteristic lobi inferiores, while the blind end develops glandular outgrowths (infundibular gland, fig. 30) overlaid by a rich development of blood sinuses and forming with them the saccus vasculosus. The optic chiasma, where present, is involved in the floor of the thalamencephalon and forms a large, upwardly-projecting ridge. Farther forwards on the floor or anterior wall is the anterior commissure (see below).

The floor of the thalamencephalon extends downward and backward as the infundibulum. The side walls thicken to create distinct lobi inferiores, while the blind end develops glandular outgrowths (infundibular gland, fig. 30) covered by a rich network of blood sinuses, forming the saccus vasculosus. The optic chiasma, when present, is part of the floor of the thalamencephalon and creates a large ridge that projects upward. Further forward on the floor or the anterior wall is the anterior commissure (see below).

Passing forwards from the mid-brain (cf. fig. 30) a series of interesting structures are found connected with the roof of the primitive fore-brain, viz.—posterior commissure (intercalary region), pineal organ, habenular commissure with anterior parietal organ, dorsal sac (= pineal cushion), velum transversum, paraphysis. The posterior commissure is situated in the boundary between thalamencephalon and mid-brain. It is formed of 265 fibres connecting up the right and left sides of the tectum opticum (?). The habenular or superior commissure situated farther forwards connects the two ganglia habenulae. In the immediate neighbourhood of these ganglia there project upwards two diverticula of the brain-roof known as the pineal organ and the parapineal (or anterior parietal) organ. The special interest of these organs40 lies in the fact that in certain vertebrates one (parapineal in Sphenodon and in lizards) or both (Petromyzon) exhibit histological features which show that they must be looked on as visual organs or eyes. In gnathostomatous fishes they do not show any definite eye-like structure, but in certain cases (Polyodon, Callichthys, &c.) the bony plates of the skull-roof are discontinuous over the pineal organ forming a definite parietal foramen such as exists in lizards where the eye-like structure is distinct. It is also usual to find in the epithelial wall of the pineal organ columnar cells which show club-shaped ends projecting into the lumen (exactly as in the young visual cells of the retina41) and are prolonged into a root-like process at the other end. Definite nerve fibres pass down from these parietal organs to the brain. It is stated that the fibres from the pineal organ pass into the posterior commissure, those of the parapineal organ into the habenular commissure.

Passing forward from the mid-brain (see fig. 30), a series of intriguing structures are found connected to the roof of the primitive fore-brain, including the posterior commissure (intercalary region), pineal organ, habenular commissure with the anterior parietal organ, dorsal sac (= pineal cushion), velum transversum, and paraphysis. The posterior commissure is located at the boundary between the thalamencephalon and mid-brain. It consists of fibers linking the right and left sides of the tectum opticum (?). The habenular or superior commissure, situated further forward, connects the two habenulae ganglia. Nearby, two protrusions of the brain roof known as the pineal organ and the parapineal (or anterior parietal) organ project upward. The particular interest of these organs lies in the fact that in certain vertebrates, one (the parapineal in Sphenodon and lizards) or both (Petromyzon) display histological features that suggest they should be considered visual organs or eyes. In gnathostomatous fishes, they do not exhibit a clear eye-like structure, but in some cases (like Polyodon, Callichthys, etc.), the bony plates of the skull roof are not continuous over the pineal organ, forming a distinct parietal foramen similar to that found in lizards, where the eye-like structure is clearly defined. It is also common to find columnar cells with club-shaped ends projecting into the lumen in the epithelial wall of the pineal organ (similar to the young visual cells of the retina) and extending into a root-like structure at the other end. Definite nerve fibers extend from these parietal organs to the brain. It's noted that the fibers from the pineal organ enter the posterior commissure, while those from the parapineal organ connect to the habenular commissure.

The facts mentioned render it difficult to avoid the conclusion that these organs either have been sensory or are sensory. Possibly they represent the degenerate and altered vestiges of eye-like organs present in archaic vertebrates, or it may be that they represent the remains of organs not eye-like in function but which for some other reason lay close under the surface of the body. It would seem natural that a diverticulum of brain-tissue exposed to the influence of light-rays should exhibit the same reaction as is shown frequently elsewhere in the animal kingdom and tend to assume secondarily the characters of a visual organ. The presence of the rod-like features in the epithelial cells is perhaps in favour of the latter view. In evolution we should expect these to appear before the camera-like structure of a highly developed eye, while in the process of degeneration we should expect these fine histological characters to go first.

The facts mentioned make it hard to escape the conclusion that these organs either have been sensory or are currently sensory. They might be the reduced and changed remnants of eye-like organs found in ancient vertebrates, or they could be the leftovers of organs that don't function like eyes but exist close to the surface of the body for some other reason. It seems natural that a pocket of brain tissue exposed to light rays would show the same response as often seen elsewhere in the animal kingdom and might gradually take on the characteristics of a visual organ. The presence of rod-like features in the epithelial cells likely supports this view. In evolutionary terms, we would expect these features to appear before the camera-like structure of a highly advanced eye, while during the process of degeneration, we would expect these fine histological traits to disappear first.

Selachians.—No parapineal organ is present. The pineal body (except in Torpedo where it is absent) is in the form of a long slender tube ending in front in a dilated bulb lying near the front end of the brain in close contact with, or enclosed in, a definite foramen in the cranial roof.

Selachians.—There is no parapineal organ. The pineal body (except in Torpedo where it is missing) is shaped like a long, thin tube that ends in a widened bulb located near the front of the brain, closely situated or enclosed in a specific opening in the top of the skull.

Holocephali and Crossopterygii.—Here also the pineal body is long and tubular: at its origin it passes dorsalwards or slightly backwards behind the large dorsal sac.

Holocephali and Crossopterygii.—Here, the pineal body is long and tubular; at its origin, it extends upward or slightly backward behind the large dorsal sac.

Actinopterygian Ganoids resemble Selachians on the whole. In Amia a parapineal organ is present, and it is said to lie towards the left side and to be connected by a thick nerve with the left habenular ganglion (cf. Petromyzon, article Cyclostomata). This is adduced to support the view that the pineal and parapineal bodies represent originally paired structures.

Actinopterygian Ganoids are generally similar to Selachians. In Amia, there's a parapineal organ that's located on the left side and is connected by a thick nerve to the left habenular ganglion (see Petromyzon, article Cyclostomata). This is used to support the idea that the pineal and parapineal bodies originally came from paired structures.

Teleostei.—A parapineal rudiment appears in the embryo of some forms, but in the adult only the pineal organ is known to exist. This is usually short and club-shaped, its terminal part with much folded wall and glandular in character. In a few cases a parietal foramen occurs (Callichthys, Loricaria, &c.).

Teleostei.—A parapineal remnant appears in the embryo of some species, but in adults, only the pineal organ is known to exist. This is usually short and club-shaped, with its end having a highly folded wall and a glandular nature. In a few instances, a parietal foramen is present (Callichthys, Loricaria, etc.).

Dipneusti.—The pineal organ is short and simple. No parapineal organ is developed.

Dipneusti.—The pineal organ is short and straightforward. There is no development of a parapineal organ.

The dorsal sac is formed by that part of the roof of the thalamencephalon lying between the habenular commissure and the region of the velum. In some cases a longitudinal groove is present in which the pineal organ lies (Dipneusti). In the Crossopterygians the dorsal sac is particularly large and was formerly mistaken for the pineal organ.

The dorsal sac is created by the section of the roof of the thalamencephalon located between the habenular commissure and the area of the velum. Sometimes, there is a long groove where the pineal organ is found (Dipneusti). In Crossopterygians, the dorsal sac is especially large and was once incorrectly identified as the pineal organ.

The velum transversum is a transverse, inwardly-projecting fold of the roof of the primitive fore-brain in front of the dorsal sac. To those morphologists who regard the hemisphere region or telencephalon as a primitively unpaired structure the velum is an important landmark indicating the posterior limit of the telencephalon. Those who hold the view taken in this article that the hemispheres are to be regarded as paired outpushings of the side wall of the primitive fore-brain attribute less morphological importance to the velum. Physiologically the velum is frequently important from the plexus of blood-vessels which passes with it into the III. ventricle.

The velum transversum is a transverse fold that projects inward from the roof of the primitive forebrain, located in front of the dorsal sac. For morphologists who view the hemisphere region or telencephalon as a primitively unpaired structure, the velum serves as a key landmark indicating the posterior boundary of the telencephalon. In contrast, those who agree with the perspective in this article, which sees the hemispheres as paired extensions of the side wall of the primitive forebrain, give less morphological significance to the velum. Physiologically, the velum is often important due to the network of blood vessels that runs with it into the III ventricle.

In Petromyzon and Chimaera the velum is not developed. In Dipnoans there are present in its place paired transverse folds which are probably merely extensions backwards of the lateral plexuses.

In Petromyzon and Chimaera, the velum isn't developed. In Dipnoans, there are instead paired transverse folds, which are likely just backward extensions of the lateral plexuses.

The Paraphysis is a projection from the roof of the primitive fore-brain near its anterior end. It is well seen in Dipnoans42 (Lepidosiren and Protopterus) where in the larva (exactly as in the urodele larva) it forms a blindly ending tube sloping upwards and forwards between the two hemispheres. In the adult it becomes mixed with the two lateral plexuses and is liable to be confused with them. In the other groups—except the Teleosts where it is small (Anguilla) or absent (most Teleosts)—the paraphysis is by no means such a definite structure, but generally there is present a more or less branched and divided diverticulum of the brain wall, frequently glandular, which is homologized with the paraphysis. The morphological significance of the paraphysis is uncertain. It may represent the remains of an ancient sense organ, or it may simply represent the last connexion between the brain and the external ectoderm from which it was derived.

The paraphysis is a projection from the roof of the primitive forebrain near its front end. It's clearly observable in Dipnoans42 (Lepidosiren and Protopterus), where in the larva (just like in the urodele larva) it forms a closed tube that slopes upwards and forwards between the two hemispheres. In adults, it merges with the two lateral plexuses and can easily be confused with them. In other groups—except for Teleosts, where it is small (Anguilla) or missing (most Teleosts)—the paraphysis isn’t as well-defined, but there’s usually a more or less branched and divided outpouching of the brain wall, often glandular, which is considered homologous with the paraphysis. The exact role of the paraphysis is uncertain. It might be the remnants of an ancient sense organ, or it could merely reflect the last connection between the brain and the external ectoderm from which it originated.

An important derivative of the primitive fore-brain is seen in the pair of cerebral hemispheres which in the higher vertebrates become of such relatively gigantic dimensions. The hemispheres appear to be primitively associated with the special sense of smell, and they are prolonged anteriorly into a pair of olfactory lobes which come into close relation with the olfactory organ. From a consideration of their adult relations and of their development—particularly in those groups where there is no disturbing factor in the shape of a large yolk sac—it seems probable that the hemispheres are primitively paired outpushings of the lateral wall of the primitive fore-brain43—in order to give increased space for the increased mass of nervous matter associated with the olfactory sense. They are most highly developed in the Dipneusti amongst fishes. They are there (cf. fig. 29, C) of relatively enormous size with thick nervous floor (corpus striatum) and side walls and roof (pallium) surrounding a central cavity (lateral ventricle) which opens into the third ventricle. At the posterior end of the hemisphere a small area of its wall remains thin and membranous, and this becomes pushed into the lateral ventricle by an ingrowth of blood-vessel to form the huge lateral plexus (= plexus hemisphaerium). In this great size of the hemispheres44 and also in the presence of a rudimentary cortex in the Dipnoi we see, as in many other features in these fishes, a distinct foreshadowing of conditions occurring in the higher groups of vertebrates. The Cyclostomes possess a distinct though small pair of hemispheres. In the Selachians the relatively archaic Notidanidae45 possess a pair of thick-walled hemispheres, but in the majority of the members of the group the paired condition is obscured (fig. 29, A).

An important offshoot of the primitive forebrain is seen in the pair of cerebral hemispheres, which are significantly larger in higher vertebrates. The hemispheres are originally linked to the sense of smell, extending forward into a pair of olfactory lobes that connect closely with the olfactory organ. From examining their adult structure and development—especially in groups without the influence of a large yolk sac—it seems likely that the hemispheres originated as paired outgrowths of the lateral wall of the primitive forebrain to provide more space for the increased volume of nervous tissue related to the olfactory sense. They are most developed in the Dipneusti among fish. Here, they are of relatively enormous size with a thick nervous base (corpus striatum) and side walls and roof (pallium) surrounding a central cavity (lateral ventricle) that opens into the third ventricle. At the back end of the hemisphere, a small section of its wall remains thin and membranous, which gets pushed into the lateral ventricle by an inflow of blood vessels to form the large lateral plexus (= plexus hemisphaerium). In the considerable size of the hemispheres and the presence of a rudimentary cortex in the Dipnoi, we see a clear indication of conditions that appear in higher vertebrate groups. The Cyclostomes have a small but distinct pair of hemispheres. In the Selachians, the relatively primitive Notidanidae have a pair of thick-walled hemispheres, but in most members of the group, the paired structure is less defined.

In the Teleostomes the mass of nervous matter which in other groups forms the hemispheres does not undergo any pushing outwards except as regards the small olfactory lobes. On the contrary, it remains as a great thickening of the lateral wall of the thalamencephalon (the so-called basal ganglia), additional space for which, however, may be obtained by a considerable increase in length of the fore-brain region (cf. fig. 30, A) or by actual involution into the third ventricle (Polypterus).46 The great nervous thickenings of the thalamencephalic wall bulge into its cavity and are covered over by the thin epithelial roof of the thalamencephalon which is as a consequence liable to be confused with the pallium or roof of the hemispheres with which it has nothing to do: the homologue of the pallium 266 as of other parts of the hemisphere is contained within the lateral thickening of the thelamencephalic wall, not in its membranous roof.47

In Teleostomes, the mass of nerve tissue that forms the hemispheres in other groups doesn't push outward, except for the small olfactory lobes. Instead, it stays as a significant thickening of the lateral wall of the thalamencephalon (the so-called basal ganglia). However, additional space can be created by a considerable lengthening of the fore-brain region (see fig. 30, A) or through actual folding into the third ventricle (Polypterus).46 The large nerve thickening of the thalamencephalic wall bulges into its cavity and is covered by a thin epithelial roof of the thalamencephalon, which can be confusing because it resembles the pallium or roof of the hemispheres, even though it is unrelated. The equivalent of the pallium, like other parts of the hemisphere, is found within the lateral thickening of the thalamencephalic wall, not in its membranous roof.47

Associated with the parts of the fore-brain devoted to the sense of smell (especially the corpora striata) is the important system of bridging fibres forming the anterior commissure which lies near the anterior end of the floor, or in the front wall, of the primitive fore-brain. It is of great interest to note the appearance in the Dipnoans (Lepidosiren and Protopterus) of a corpus callosum (cf. fig. 30 B) lying dorsal to the anterior commissure and composed of fibres connected with the pallial region of the two hemispheres.

Associated with the parts of the forebrain related to the sense of smell (especially the corpora striata) is the important system of bridging fibers that make up the anterior commissure, located near the front end of the floor or in the front wall of the primitive forebrain. It's interesting to note the presence of a corpus callosum in the Dipnoans (Lepidosiren and Protopterus), which is positioned above the anterior commissure and consists of fibers linked to the pallial region of both hemispheres.

Sense Organs.—The olfactory organs are of special interest in the Selachians, where each remains through life as a widely-open, saccular involution of the ectoderm which may be prolonged backwards to the margin of the buccal cavity by an open oronasal groove, thus retaining a condition familiar in the embryo of the higher vertebrates. In Dipnoans the olfactory organ communicates with the roof of the buccal cavity by definite posterior nares as in the higher forms—the communicating passage being doubtless the morphological equivalent of the oronasal groove, although there is no direct embryological evidence for this. In the Teleostomes the olfactory organ varies from a condition of great complexity in the Crossopterygians down to a condition of almost complete atrophy in certain Teleosts (Plectognathi).48

Sense Organs.—The olfactory organs are particularly interesting in Selachians, where they remain as widely open, pouch-like structures derived from the ectoderm throughout life. These can extend backward to the edge of the mouth cavity through an open oronasal groove, which keeps a state similar to what’s seen in the embryos of higher vertebrates. In Dipnoans, the olfactory organ connects to the top of the mouth cavity via distinct posterior nares, like in more advanced forms. This connecting passage is likely the morphological equivalent of the oronasal groove, although there’s no direct embryological evidence for this. In Teleostomes, the olfactory organ ranges from a highly complex structure in Crossopterygians to almost complete degeneration in some Teleosts (Plectognathi).48

The eyes are usually of large size. The lens is large and spherical and in the case of most Teleostomes accommodation for distant vision is effected by the lens being pulled bodily nearer the retina. This movement is brought about by the contraction of smooth muscle fibres contained in the processus falciformis, a projection from the choroid which terminates in contact with the lens in a swelling, the campanula Halleri. In Amia and in Teleosts a network of capillaries forming the so-called choroid gland surrounds the optic nerve just outside the retina. As a rule the eyes of fishes have a silvery, shining appearance due to the deposition of shining flakes of guanin in the outer layer of the choroid (Argentea) or, in the case of Selachians, in the inner layers (tapetum). Fishes which inhabit dark recesses, e.g. of caves or of the deep sea, show an enlargement, or, more frequently, a reduction, of the eyes. Certain deep-sea Teleosts possess remarkable telescopic eyes with a curious asymmetrical development of the retina.49

The eyes are usually large. The lens is big and round, and for most Teleostomes, focusing on distant objects happens when the lens is physically pulled closer to the retina. This movement is caused by the contraction of smooth muscle fibers in the processus falciformis, a projection from the choroid that ends in a bulge that contacts the lens, known as the campanula Halleri. In Amia and Teleosts, a network of tiny blood vessels known as the choroid gland surrounds the optic nerve just outside the retina. Typically, fish eyes have a shiny, silvery look due to the presence of shiny flakes of guanin in the outer layer of the choroid (Argentea), or in the case of Selachians, in the inner layers (tapetum). Fish that live in dark places, like caves or the deep sea, often have larger or, more commonly, smaller eyes. Some deep-sea Teleosts have incredible telescopic eyes with an unusual asymmetrical development of the retina.49

The otocyst or auditory organ agrees in its main features with that of other vertebrates. In Selachians the otocyst remains in the adult open to the exterior by the ductus endolymphaticus. In Squatina50 this is unusually wide and correlated; with this the calcareous otoconia are replaced by sand-grains from the exterior. In Dipnoans (Lepidosiren and Protopterus) curious outgrowths arise from the ductus endolymphaticus and come to overlie the roof of the fourth ventricle, recalling the somewhat similar condition met with in certain Amphibians.

The otocyst, or auditory organ, shares its main features with those of other vertebrates. In sharks, the otocyst remains open to the outside through the ductus endolymphaticus. In Squatina50, this opening is unusually wide and is associated with the fact that the calcareous otoconia are replaced by sand grains from the outside. In lungfish (Lepidosiren and Protopterus), interesting outgrowths develop from the ductus endolymphaticus and extend to cover the roof of the fourth ventricle, resembling a somewhat similar condition found in certain amphibians.

In various Teleosts the swimbladder enters into intimate relations with the otocyst. In the simplest condition these relations consist in the prolongation forwards of the swimbladder as a blindly ending tube on either side, the blind end coming into direct contact either with the wall of the otocyst itself or with the fluid surrounding it (perilymph) through a gap in the rigid periotic capsule. A wave of compression causing a slight inward movement of the swimbladder wall will bring about a greatly magnified movement of that part of the wall which is not in relation with the external medium, viz. the part in relation with the interior of the auditory capsule. In this way the perception of delicate sound waves may be rendered much more perfect. In the Ostariophysi (Sagemehl), including the Cyprinidae, the Siluridae, the Characinidae and the Gymnotidae, a physiologically similar connexion between swimbladder and otocyst is brought about by the intervention of a chain of auditory ossicles (Weberian ossicles) formed by modification of the anterior vertebrae.51

In various Teleosts, the swim bladder has close connections with the otocyst. In the simplest form, these connections involve the swim bladder extending forward as a tube that ends blindly on both sides, with the blind end either making direct contact with the otocyst wall or with the fluid surrounding it (perilymph) through an opening in the rigid periotic capsule. When there's a wave of compression that causes a slight inward movement of the swim bladder wall, it leads to a significantly amplified movement of the part of the wall that isn't in touch with the external environment, specifically the part connected to the inside of the auditory capsule. This way, the ability to detect subtle sound waves can be enhanced. In the Ostariophysi (Sagemehl), which includes the Cyprinidae, the Siluridae, the Characinidae, and the Gymnotidae, a physiologically similar connection between the swim bladder and otocyst is created through a chain of auditory ossicles (Weberian ossicles) that are formed by modifying the anterior vertebrae.51

Lateral Line Organs.52—Epidermal sense buds are scattered about in the ectoderm of fishes. A special arrangement of these in lines along the sides of the body and on the head region form the highly characteristic sense organs of the lateral line system. In Lepidosiren these organs retain their superficial position; in other fishes they become sunk beneath the surface into a groove, which may remain open (some Selachians), but as a rule becomes closed into a tubular channel with openings at intervals. It has been suggested that the function of this system of sense organs is connected with the perception of vibratory disturbances of comparatively large wave length in the surrounding medium.

Lateral Line Organs.52—Epidermal sensory buds are spread out in the outer layer of fish skin. A specific arrangement of these buds in lines along the sides of the body and on the head forms the distinct sense organs of the lateral line system. In Lepidosiren, these organs stay close to the surface; in other fish, they sink below the surface into a groove, which may remain open (in some Selachians), but typically closes into a tubular channel with openings at intervals. It has been proposed that the function of this system of sense organs is related to detecting vibrational disturbances of relatively large wavelengths in the surrounding environment.

Peripheral Nerves.—In the Cyclostomes the dorsal afferent and ventral efferent nerves are still, as in Amphioxus, independent, but in the gnathostomatous fishes they are, as in the higher vertebrates, combined together into typical spinal nerves.

Peripheral Nerves.—In the jawless fish, the dorsal sensory and ventral motor nerves are still, like in Amphioxus, separate, but in the jawed fishes, they are combined, similar to higher vertebrates, into typical spinal nerves.

As regards the cranial nerves the chief peculiarities of fishes relate to (1) the persistence of the branchial clefts and (2) the presence of an elaborate system of cutaneous sense organs supplied by a group of nerves (lateralis) connected with a centre in the brain which develops in continuity with that which receives the auditory nerve. These points may be exemplified by the arrangements in Selachians (see fig. 31). I., II., III., IV. and VI. call for no special remark.

As for the cranial nerves, the main characteristics of fish are (1) the continued existence of the gill slits and (2) the presence of a complex system of skin sense organs connected by a group of nerves (lateralis) that link to a center in the brain, which develops alongside the part that receives the auditory nerve. These aspects can be illustrated by the arrangements in sharks and rays (see fig. 31). I., II., III., IV., and VI. don't require any special attention.

From Bridge, Cambridge Natural History, vol. vii. “Fishes” (by permission of Macmillan & Co., Ltd.). After Wiedersheim, Grundriss der vergleichenden Anatomie (by permission of Gustav Fischer).
Fig. 31.—Diagram of Cranial nerves of a Fish. Cranial nerves and branchial clefts are numbered with Roman figures. Trigeminus black; Facialis dotted; Lateralis oblique shading; Glossopharyngeal cross-hatched; Vagus white.

bucc, Buccal.

bucc, Buccal.

c, Commissure between pre- and postauditory parts of lateralis system.

c, Connection between the pre- and postauditory parts of the lateralis system.

d.r, Dorsal roots of spinal nerves.

d.r, Dorsal roots of spinal nerves.

g.g, Gasserian ganglion.

g.g, Gasserian ganglion.

gn.g, (Geniculate) ganglion of VII.

gn.g, (Geniculate) ganglion of VII.

hy, Hyomandibular.

Hyomandibular.

l.n.X, Lateralis vagi.

l.n.X, Vagus nerve lateral branch.

m, Motor branches of hy.

m, Motor branches of hy.

md, Mandibular.

md, Mandibular.

md.ex, External mandibular.

md.ex, Outside jaw.

mk.c, Meckel’s cartilage.

mk.c, Meckel's cartilage.

mx, Maxillary.

mx, Upper jaw.

oc, Occipitospinal.

oc, Occipitospinal.

ol.o, Olfactory organ.

ol.o, Smell organ.

op.p, Ophthalmicus profundus.

op.p, Deep Ophthalmic.

op.s, Ophthalmicus superficialis.

op.s, Superficial Ophthalmic.

pn, Palatine.

pn, Palatine.

pq., Palatopterygo-quadrate cartilage.

Palatopterygo-quadrate cartilage.

s, Spiracle.

Spiracle.

st, Supra-temporal branch of lateralis system.

st, Supra-temporal branch of the lateralis system.

t.a, Lateralis centre in brain.

Lateralis center in brain.

v.n, Visceral nerve.

Visceral nerve.

v.r, Ventral roots.

Ventral roots.

Trigeminus (V.).—The ophthalmicus profundus branch (op.p.)—which probably is morphologically a distinct cranial nerve—passes forwards along the roof of the orbit to the skin of the snout. As it passes through the orbit it gives off the long ciliary nerves to the eyeball, and is connected with the small ciliary ganglion (also connected with III.) which in turn gives off the short ciliary nerves to the eyeball. The ophthalmicus superficialis (cut short in the figure) branch passes from the root ganglion of V. (Gasserian ganglion), and passes also over the orbit to the skin of the snout. It lies close to, or completely fused with, the corresponding branch of the lateralis system.

Trigeminus (V.).—The ophthalmicus profundus branch (op.p.)—which is likely a distinct cranial nerve in terms of structure—moves forward along the top of the orbit to the skin of the snout. As it travels through the orbit, it gives off the long ciliary nerves to the eyeball and connects with the small ciliary ganglion (which is also connected with III.) that in turn sends out the short ciliary nerves to the eyeball. The ophthalmicus superficialis (trimmed in the figure) branch comes from the root ganglion of V. (Gasserian ganglion) and also extends over the orbit to the skin of the snout. It is positioned close to, or completely merged with, the corresponding branch of the lateralis system.

The main trunk of V. branches over the edge of the mouth into the maxillary (mx.) and mandibular (md.) divisions, the former, like the two branches already mentioned, purely sensory, the latter mixed—supplying the muscles of mastication as well as the teeth of the lower jaw and the lining of the buccal floor.

The main trunk of V. splits over the edge of the mouth into the maxillary (mx.) and mandibular (md.) divisions. The maxillary division, like the two branches mentioned earlier, is purely sensory, while the mandibular division is mixed—it supplies the chewing muscles as well as the teeth of the lower jaw and the lining of the mouth floor.

The main trunk of the Facialis (VII.) bifurcates over the 267 spiracle into a pre-spiracular portion—the main portion of which passes to the mucous membrane of the palate as the palatine (pnVII.)—and a postspiracular portion, the hyomandibular (hy.) trunk which supplies the muscles of the hyoid arch and also sends a few sensory fibres to the lining of the spiracle, the floor of mouth and pharynx and the skin of the lower jaw. Combined with the main trunk of the facial are branches belonging to the lateralis system.

The main trunk of the Facialis (VII) splits above the 267 spiracle into a pre-spiracular section—the main part of which goes to the mucous membrane of the palate as the palatine (pnVII)—and a postspiracular section, the hyomandibular (hy.) trunk, which supplies the muscles of the hyoid arch and also sends a few sensory fibers to the lining of the spiracle, the floor of the mouth and pharynx, and the skin of the lower jaw. Along with the main trunk of the facial, there are branches from the lateralis system.

Lateralis Group of Nerves.—The lateralis group of nerves are charged with the innervation of the system of cutaneous sense organs and are all connected with the same central region in the medulla. A special sensory area of the ectoderm becomes involuted below the surface to form the otocyst, and the nerve fibres belonging to this form the auditory nerve (VIII.). Other portions of the lateralis group become mixed up with various other cranial nerves as follows:

Lateralis Group of Nerves.—The lateralis group of nerves is responsible for supplying the sense organs in the skin, and they are all linked to the same central area in the medulla. A specific sensory region of the ectoderm folds in below the surface to create the otocyst, and the nerve fibers from this develop into the auditory nerve (VIII.). Other parts of the lateralis group interact with several other cranial nerves as follows:

(a) Facial portion.

Facial area.

(1) Ophthalmicus superficialis (op.s.VII.): passes to lining of nose or to the lateral line organs of the dorsal part of snout.

(1) Ophthalmicus superficialis (op.s.VII.): goes to the inside of the nose or to the lateral line organs located on the upper part of the snout.

(2) Buccal (bucc.VII): lies close to maxillary division of V. and passes to the sensory canals of the lower side of the snout.

(2) Buccal (bucc.VII): located near the maxillary division of V and extends to the sensory canals on the lower side of the snout.

(3) External mandibular (md.ex.): lies in close association with the mandibular division of V., supplies the sensory canals of the lower jaw and hyoid region.

(3) External mandibular (md.ex.): is closely linked to the mandibular division of V., providing sensory nerves to the lower jaw and hyoid area.

Lateralis vagi (l.n.X.) becomes closely associated with the vagus. It supplies the lateral line organs of the trunk.

Lateralis vagi (l.n.X.) becomes closely linked to the vagus nerve. It provides the lateral line organs of the trunk.

In the lamprey and in Dipnoans the lateralis vagi loses its superficial position in the adult and comes into close relation with the notochord.

In lampreys and Dipnoans, the lateralis vagi moves from its superficial position in the adult and gets close to the notochord.

In Actinopterygians and at least some Selachians a lateralis set of fibres is associated with IX., and in the former fishes a conspicuous trunk of lateralis fibres passes to some or all (Gadus) of the fins. This has been called the lateralis accessorius and is apparently connected with V., VII., IX., X. and certain spinal nerves.53

In Actinopterygians and some Selachians, a lateralis set of fibers is linked to IX. In the former group of fish, a noticeable bundle of lateralis fibers extends to some or all (Gadus) of the fins. This is referred to as the lateralis accessorius and seems to connect with V., VII., IX., X., and certain spinal nerves.53

Vagus Group (IX., X., XI.).—The glossopharyngeus (IX.) forks over the first branchial cleft (pretrematic and post-trematic branches) and also gives off a palatine branch (pn.IX.). In some cases (various Selachians, Ganoids and Teleosts) it would seem that IX. includes a few fibres of the lateralis group.

Vagus Group (IX., X., XI.).—The glossopharyngeus (IX.) splits over the first branchial cleft (pretrematic and post-trematic branches) and also sends out a palatine branch (pn.IX.). In some instances (various sharks, bony fish, and other fish) it appears that IX. includes a few fibers from the lateralis group.

Vagus (X.) is shown by its multiple roots arising from the medulla and also by the character of its peripheral distribution to be a compound structure formed by the fusion of a number of originally distinct nerves. It consists of (1) a number of branchial branches (X.¹ X.² &c.), one of which forks over each gill cleft behind the hyobranchial and which may (Selachians) arise by separate roots from the medulla; (2) an intestinal branch (v.n.X.) arising behind the last branchial and innervating the wall of the oesophagus and stomach and it may be even the intestine throughout the greater part of its length (Myxine).

Vagus (X.) is characterized by its multiple roots coming from the medulla and its unique peripheral distribution, indicating that it is a complex structure formed by the merging of several originally separate nerves. It includes (1) several branchial branches (X.¹, X.², etc.), with one that splits over each gill cleft behind the hyobranchial, and which may (in Selachians) originate from distinct roots in the medulla; (2) an intestinal branch (v.n.X.) that arises behind the last branchial and supplies the walls of the esophagus and stomach, and may even extend to the intestine for most of its length (Myxine).

The accessorius (XI.) is not in fishes separated as a distinct nerve from the vagus.

The accessorius (XI.) is not a separate nerve from the vagus in fish.

With increased development of the brain its hinder portion, giving rise to the vagus system, has apparently come to encroach on the anterior portion of the spinal cord, with the result that a number of spinal nerves have become reduced to a less or more vestigial condition. The dorsal roots of these nerves disappear entirely in the adult, but the ventral roots persist and are to be seen arising ventrally to the vagus roots. They supply certain muscles of the pectoral fins and of the visceral arches and are known as spino-occipital nerves.54

As the brain has developed more, its back part, which leads to the vagus system, seems to have started to take over the front part of the spinal cord. As a result, several spinal nerves have become less functional or somewhat vestigial. The dorsal roots of these nerves completely disappear in adults, but the ventral roots remain and can be seen emerging below the vagus roots. They supply certain muscles of the pectoral fins and the visceral arches and are referred to as spino-occipital nerves.54

These nerves are divisible into an anterior more ancient set—the occipital nerves—and a posterior set of more recent origin—(occipito-spinal nerves). In Selachians 1-5 pairs of occipital nerves alone are recognizable: in Dipnoans 2-3 pairs of occipital and 2-3 pairs of occipito-spinal: in Ganoids 1-2 pairs occipital and 1-5 pairs occipito-spinal; in Teleosts finally the occipital nerves have entirely disappeared while there are 2 pairs of occipito-spinal. In Cyclostomes no special spino-occipital nerves have been described.

These nerves can be divided into an older set at the front—the occipital nerves—and a newer set at the back—the occipito-spinal nerves. In Selachians, there are 1-5 pairs of occipital nerves identifiable; in Dipnoans, there are 2-3 pairs of occipital and 2-3 pairs of occipito-spinal; in Ganoids, there are 1-2 pairs of occipital and 1-5 pairs of occipito-spinal. In Teleosts, the occipital nerves are completely absent, while there are 2 pairs of occipito-spinal. In Cyclostomes, no specific spino-occipital nerves have been identified.

The fibres corresponding with those of the Hypoglossus (XII.) of higher vertebrates spring from the anterior spinal nerves, which are here, as indeed in Amphibia, still free from the cranium.

The fibers that correspond to those of the Hypoglossus (XII.) in higher vertebrates come from the anterior spinal nerves, which are still separate from the skull here, just like in amphibians.

Sympathetic.—The sympathetic portion of the nervous system does not in fishes attain the same degree of differentiation as in the higher groups. In Cyclostomes it is apparently represented by a fine plexus with small ganglia found in the neighbourhood of the dorsal aorta and on the surface of the heart and receiving branches from the spinal nerves. In Selachians also a plexus occurs in the neighbourhood of the cardinal veins and extends over the viscera: it receives visceral branches from the anterior spinal nerves. In Teleosts the plexus has become condensed to form a definite sympathetic trunk on each side, extending forwards into the head and communicating with the ganglia of certain of the cranial nerves.

Sympathetic.—The sympathetic part of the nervous system in fish doesn’t develop to the same level of complexity as in higher animals. In Cyclostomes, it seems to consist of a delicate network with small ganglia located near the dorsal aorta and on the surface of the heart, with branches from the spinal nerves. In Selachians, there is also a network near the cardinal veins that spreads over the internal organs and receives branches from the front spinal nerves. In Teleosts, this network has become more condensed into a distinct sympathetic trunk on each side, extending forward into the head and connecting with the ganglia of some cranial nerves.

(J. G. K.)

V. Distribution in Time and Space

V. Distribution in Time and Space

The origin of Vertebrates, and how far back in time they extend, is unknown. The earliest fishes were in all probability devoid of hard parts and traces of their existence can scarcely be expected to be found. The hypothesis that they may be derived from the early Crustaceans, or Arachnids, is chiefly based on the somewhat striking resemblance which the mailed fishes of the Silurian period (Ostracodermi) bear to the Arthropods of that remote time, a resemblance, however, very superficial and regarded by most morphologists as an interesting example of mimetic resemblance—whatever this term may be taken to mean. The minute denticles known as conodonts, which first appear in the Ordovician, were once looked upon as teeth of Cyclostomes, but their histological structure does not afford any support to the identification and they are now generally dismissed altogether from the Vertebrates. As a compensation the Lower Silurian of Russia has yielded small teeth or spines which seem to have really belonged to fishes, although their exact affinities are not known (Palaeodus and Archodus of J. V. Rohon).

The origin of vertebrates and how far back they go is still unknown. The earliest fishes likely didn’t have any hard parts, so we can hardly expect to find evidence of their existence. The idea that they might have come from early crustaceans or arachnids mainly comes from the striking similarities between the armored fishes of the Silurian period (Ostracodermi) and the arthropods of that ancient time. However, this resemblance is quite superficial and is seen by most morphologists as an interesting example of mimetic resemblance—whatever that term means. The tiny structures known as conodonts, which first appeared in the Ordovician period, were once thought to be teeth of cyclostomes, but their microscopic structure doesn’t support that identification, and they are now generally excluded from the vertebrate category. Instead, the Lower Silurian strata in Russia have provided small teeth or spines that likely belonged to actual fishes, although their exact relationships remain unknown (Palaeodus and Archodus of J. V. Rohon).

It is not until we reach the Upper Silurian that satisfactory remains of unquestionable fishes are found, and here they suddenly appear in a considerable variety of forms, very unlike modern fishes in every respect, but so highly developed as to convince us that we have to search in much earlier formations for their ancestors. These Upper Silurian fishes are the Coelolepidae, the Ateleaspidae, the Birkeniidae, the Pteraspidae, the Tremataspidae and the Cephalaspidae, all referred to the Ostracophori. The three last types persist in the Devonian, in the middle of which period the Osteolepid Crossopterygii, the Dipneusti and the Arthrodira suddenly appear. The most primitive Selachian (Cladoselache), the Acanthodian Selachians (Diplacanthidae), the Chimaerids (Ptyctodus), and the Palaeoniscid ganoids (Chirolepis) appear in the Upper Devonian, along with the problematic Palaeospondylus.

It isn't until we reach the Upper Silurian that clear remains of undeniable fish are found, and they suddenly show up in a wide variety of forms, quite different from modern fish in every way, but so well-developed that it suggests we need to look in much earlier layers to find their ancestors. These Upper Silurian fish include the Coelolepidae, the Ateleaspidae, the Birkeniidae, the Pteraspidae, the Tremataspidae, and the Cephalaspidae, all classified under the Ostracophori. The last three types continue into the Devonian, where, in the middle of that period, the Osteolepid Crossopterygii, the Dipneusti, and the Arthrodira suddenly appear. The most primitive Selachian (Cladoselache), the Acanthodian Selachians (Diplacanthidae), the Chimaerids (Ptyctodus), and the Palaeoniscid ganoids (Chirolepis) emerge in the Upper Devonian, along with the mysterious Palaeospondylus.

In the Carboniferous period, the Ostracophori and Arthrodira have disappeared, the Crossopterygii and Dipneusti are still abundant, and the Selachians (Pleuracanthus, Acanthodians, truesharks) and Chondrostean ganoids (Palaeoniscidae and Platysomidae) are predominant. In the Upper Permian the Holostean ganoids (Acanthophorus) make their appearance, and the group becomes dominant in the Jurassic and the Lower Cretaceous. In the Trias, the Crossopterygii and Dipneusti dwindle in variety and the Ceratodontidae appear; the Chondrostean and Holostean ganoids are about equally represented, and are supplemented in the Jurassic by the first, annectant representatives of the Teleostei (Pholidophoridae, Leptolepidae). In the latter period, the Holostean ganoids are predominant, and with them we find numerous Cestraciont sharks, some primitive skates (Squatinidae and Rhinobatidae), Chimaerids and numerous Coelacanthid crossopterygians.

During the Carboniferous period, the Ostracophori and Arthrodira have vanished, while the Crossopterygii and Dipneusti are still plentiful. The Selachians (Pleuracanthus, Acanthodians, true sharks) and Chondrostean ganoids (Palaeoniscidae and Platysomidae) are the most common. In the Upper Permian, the Holostean ganoids (Acanthophorus) appear, and this group becomes dominant in the Jurassic and early Cretaceous. In the Triassic, the Crossopterygii and Dipneusti decrease in diversity and the Ceratodontidae emerge; the Chondrostean and Holostean ganoids are represented equally, with the Jurassic adding the first, connecting members of the Teleostei (Pholidophoridae, Leptolepidae). In this later period, Holostean ganoids dominate, accompanied by a variety of Cestraciont sharks, some primitive skates (Squatinidae and Rhinobatidae), Chimaerids, and many Coelacanthid crossopterygians.

The fish-fauna of the Lower Cretaceous is similar to that of the Jurassic, whilst that of the Chalk and other Upper Cretaceous formations is quite modern in aspect, with only a slight admixture of Coelacanthid crossopterygians and Holostean ganoids, the Teleosteans being abundantly represented by Elopidae, Albulidae, Halosauridae, Scopelidae and Berycidae, 268 many being close allies of the present inhabitants of the deep sea. At this period the spiny-rayed Teleosteans, dominant in the seas of the present day, made their first appearance.

The fish fauna of the Lower Cretaceous is similar to that of the Jurassic, while the fish from the Chalk and other Upper Cretaceous formations look quite modern, with only a small mix of Coelacanthid crossopterygians and Holostean ganoids. The Teleosteans are well represented by Elopidae, Albulidae, Halosauridae, Scopelidae, and Berycidae, many of which are close relatives of today’s deep-sea fish. During this time, the spiny-rayed Teleosteans, which dominate today's oceans, made their first appearance. 268

With the Eocene, the fish-fauna has assumed the essential character which it now bears. A few Pycnodonts survive as the last representatives of typically Mesozoic ganoids, whilst in the marine deposits of Monte Bolca (Upper Eocene) the principal families of living marine fishes are represented by genera identical with or more or less closely allied to those still existing; it is highly remarkable that forms so highly specialized as the sucking-fish or remoras, the flat-fish (Pleuronectidae), the Pediculati, the Plectognaths, &c., were in existence, whilst in the freshwater deposits of North America Osteoglossidae and Cichlidae were already represented. Very little is known of the freshwater fishes of the early Tertiaries. What has been preserved of them from the Oligocene and Miocene shows that they differed very slightly from their modern representatives. We may conclude that from early Tertiary times fishes were practically as they are at present. The great hiatus in our knowledge lies in the period between the Cretaceous and the Eocene.

With the Eocene, the fish fauna took on the essential characteristics it has today. A few Pycnodonts have survived as the last representatives of typically Mesozoic ganoids, while in the marine deposits of Monte Bolca (Upper Eocene), the main families of living marine fishes are represented by genera that are identical or closely related to those still around. It's quite remarkable that highly specialized forms like sucking fish or remoras, flatfish (Pleuronectidae), Pediculati, Plectognaths, etc., were already present. Meanwhile, in the freshwater deposits of North America, Osteoglossidae and Cichlidae were already represented. Very little is known about the freshwater fishes of the early Tertiaries. The remnants from the Oligocene and Miocene show that they differed only slightly from their modern counterparts. We can conclude that from early Tertiary times, fishes were practically as they are today. The significant gap in our knowledge exists during the period between the Cretaceous and the Eocene.

At the present day the Teleosteans are in immense preponderance, Selachians are still well represented, the Chondrostean ganoids are confined to the rivers and lakes of the temperate zone of the northern hemisphere (Acipenseridae, Polyodontidae), the Holostean ganoids are reduced to a few species (Lepidosteus, Amia) dwelling in the fresh waters of North America, Mexico and Cuba, the Crossopterygians are represented by the isolated group Polypteridae, widely different from any of the known fossil forms, with about ten species inhabiting the rivers and lakes of Africa, whilst the Dipneusti linger in Australia (Neoceratodus), in South America (Lepidosiren), and in tropical Africa (Protopterus). The imperfections of the geological record preclude any attempt to deal with the distribution in space as regards extinct forms, but several types, at present very restricted in their habitat, once had a very wide distribution. The Ceratodontidae, for instance, of which only one species is now living, confined to the rivers of Queensland, has left remains in Triassic, Rhaetic, Jurassic and Cretaceous rocks of Europe, North America, Patagonia, North and South Africa, India and Australia; the Amiidae and Lepidosteidae were abundant in Europe in Eocene and Miocene times; the Osteoglossidae, now living in Africa, S.E. Asia and South America, occurred in North America and Europe in the Eocene.

Today, Teleosteans are overwhelmingly dominant, Selachians are still well represented, and Chondrostean ganoids are limited to the rivers and lakes of the temperate zones of the Northern Hemisphere (Acipenseridae, Polyodontidae). Holostean ganoids have decreased to a few species (Lepidosteus, Amia) found in fresh waters of North America, Mexico, and Cuba. Crossopterygians are represented by the isolated group Polypteridae, which is quite different from any known fossil forms, with about ten species living in the rivers and lakes of Africa. Meanwhile, the Dipneusti survive in Australia (Neoceratodus), South America (Lepidosiren), and tropical Africa (Protopterus). The gaps in the geological record make it impossible to discuss the spatial distribution of extinct forms, but several types, currently very limited in their habitats, once had much broader distributions. For example, the Ceratodontidae, which has only one living species currently found in the rivers of Queensland, has left remains in Triassic, Rhaetic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous rocks across Europe, North America, Patagonia, North and South Africa, India, and Australia. The Amiidae and Lepidosteidae were plentiful in Europe during the Eocene and Miocene periods, while the Osteoglossidae, now found in Africa, Southeast Asia, and South America, were present in North America and Europe during the Eocene.

In treating of the geographical distribution of modern fishes, it is necessary to distinguish between fresh-water and marine forms. It is, however, not easy to draw a line between these categories, as a large number of forms are able to accommodate themselves to either fresh or salt water, whilst some periodically migrate from the one into the other. On the whole, fishes may be roughly divided into the following categories:—

In discussing the geographical distribution of modern fish, it's important to differentiate between freshwater and marine species. However, it's not easy to separate these categories, as many species can adapt to either freshwater or saltwater, and some even migrate between the two. Overall, fish can be roughly divided into the following categories:—

I. Marine fishes. A. shore-fishes; B. pelagic fishes; C. deep-sea fishes.

I. Marine fishes. A. shore fishes; B. open ocean fishes; C. deep-sea fishes.

II. Brackish-water fishes.

Brackish water fish.

III. Fresh-water fishes.

III. Freshwater fish.

IV. Migratory fishes. A. anadromous (ascending fresh waters to spawn); B. catadromous (descending to the sea to spawn).

IV. Migratory fish. A. anadromous (moving up freshwater to reproduce); B. catadromous (moving down to the sea to reproduce).

About two-thirds of the known recent fishes are marine. Such are nearly all the Selachians, and, among the Teleosteans, all the Heteromi, Pediculati and the great majority of Apodes, Thoracostei, Percesoces, Anacanthini, Acanthopterygii and Plectognathi. All the Crossopterygii, Dipneusti, Opisthomi, Symbranchii, and nearly all the Ganoidei and Ostariophysi are confined to fresh-water.

About two-thirds of the known recent fish are found in the ocean. This includes almost all the sharks and, among the bony fish, all the Heteromi, Pediculati, and the vast majority of Apodes, Thoracostei, Percesoces, Anacanthini, Acanthopterygii, and Plectognathi. All the Crossopterygii, Dipneusti, Opisthomi, Symbranchii, and nearly all the Ganoidei and Ostariophysi are limited to freshwater.

The three categories of marine fishes have thus been defined by Günther:—

The three categories of marine fish have been defined by Günther:—

“1. Shore Fishes—that is, fishes which chiefly inhabit parts of the sea in the immediate neighbourhood of land either actually raised above, or at least but little submerged below, the surface of the water. They do not descend to any great depth,—very few to 300 fathoms, and the majority live close to the surface. The distribution of these fishes is determined, not only by the temperature of the surface water, but also by the nature of the adjacent land and its animal and vegetable products,—some being confined to flat coasts with soft or sandy bottoms, others to rocky and fissured coasts, others to living coral formations. If it were not for the frequent mechanical and involuntary removals to which these fishes are exposed, their distribution within certain limits, as it no doubt originally existed, would resemble still more that of freshwater fishes than we find it actually does at the present period.

“1. Shore Fishes—these are fish that mainly live in the parts of the sea close to land, either above the surface or just slightly below it. They don’t dive down to great depths—very few go deeper than 300 fathoms, and most stay near the surface. The spread of these fish is influenced not only by the temperature of the surface water but also by the type of nearby land and its animal and plant life—some are found only along flat coasts with soft or sandy bottoms, others along rocky and jagged shores, and others around living coral reefs. If it weren't for the frequent mechanical and unintentional movements that these fish experience, their distribution would likely resemble that of freshwater fish more than what we observe today."

2. Pelagic Fishes—that is, fishes which inhabit the surface and uppermost strata of the open ocean, and approach the shores only accidentally or occasionally (in search of prey), or periodically (for the purpose of spawning). The majority spawn in the open sea, their ova and young being always found at a great distance from the shore. With regard to their distribution, they are still subject to the influences of light and the temperature of the surface water; but they are independent of the variable local conditions which tie the shore fish to its original home, and therefore roam freely over a space which would take a freshwater or shore fish thousands of years to cover in its gradual dispersal. Such as are devoid of rapidity of motion are dispersed over similarly large areas by the oceanic currents, more slowly than the strong swimmers, but not less surely. An accurate definition, therefore, of their distribution within certain areas equivalent to the terrestrial regions is much less feasible than in the case of shore fishes.

2. Pelagic Fishes—these are fish that live in the surface and upper layers of the open ocean, and they only come close to the shores by accident, occasionally (to find food), or regularly (to spawn). Most spawn in the open sea, with their eggs and young always found far from the shore. In terms of their distribution, they are influenced by light and the temperature of the surface water; however, they are not tied to the changing local conditions that keep shore fish close to their habitat. This allows them to move freely across distances that would take freshwater or shore fish thousands of years to cover gradually. Those that aren’t fast swimmers are still spread out over large areas by ocean currents, though more slowly than the faster swimmers, but just as surely. Therefore, accurately defining their distribution within specific areas equivalent to land regions is much harder than it is for shore fish.

3. Deep-Sea Fishes—that is, fishes which inhabit such depths of the ocean that they are but little or not at all influenced by light or the surface temperature, and which, by their organization, are prevented from reaching the surface stratum in a healthy condition. Living almost under identical tellurian conditions, the same type, the same species, may inhabit an abyssal depth under the equator as well as one near the arctic or antarctic circle; and all that we know of these fishes points to the conclusion that no separate horizontal regions can be distinguished in the abyssal fauna, and that no division into bathymetrical strata can be attempted on the base of generic much less of family characters.”

3. Deep-Sea Fishes—these are fish that live at such depths in the ocean that they are hardly affected by light or surface temperature, and their physical structure prevents them from reaching the surface in a healthy state. Living in almost the same environmental conditions, the same type and species can be found at deep ocean levels near the equator as well as in areas close to the Arctic or Antarctic circles. Everything we know about these fish suggests that we can't identify separate horizontal regions in the deep-sea fauna, and that there’s no basis for dividing them into distinct depth layers based on their genus, let alone their family characteristics.

A division of the world into regions according to the distribution of the shore-fishes is a much more difficult task than that of tracing continental areas. It is possible perhaps to distinguish four great divisions: the Arctic region, the Atlantic region, the Indo-Pacific region and the Antarctic region. The second and third may be again subdivided into three zones: Northern, Tropical and Southern. This appears to be a more satisfactory arrangement than that which has been proposed into three zones primarily, each again subdivided according to the different oceans. Perhaps a better division is that adopted by D. S. Jordan, who arranges the littoral fishes according to coast lines; we then have an East Atlantic area, a West Atlantic, an East Pacific and a West Pacific, the latter including the coasts of the Indian Ocean. The tropical zone, whatever be the ocean, is that in which fishes flourish in greatest abundance and where, especially about coral-reefs, they show the greatest variety of bizarre forms and the most gorgeous coloration. The fish-fauna of the Indo-Pacific is much richer than that of the Atlantic, both as regards genera and species.

Dividing the world into regions based on the distribution of shore fish is a much tougher job than mapping out continental areas. We can probably identify four main regions: the Arctic, the Atlantic, the Indo-Pacific, and the Antarctic. The second and third can be further split into three zones: Northern, Tropical, and Southern. This seems like a better organization than the previous suggestion of dividing it into three primary zones, each further divided by different oceans. A more effective division might be the one proposed by D. S. Jordan, who sorts coastal fish according to coastlines; this gives us an East Atlantic area, a West Atlantic, an East Pacific, and a West Pacific, with the latter covering the coasts of the Indian Ocean. The tropical zone, regardless of the ocean, is where fish thrive in the highest numbers and, particularly around coral reefs, display the most stunning variety of unusual shapes and vibrant colors. The fish fauna of the Indo-Pacific is far richer than that of the Atlantic, both in terms of genera and species.

As regards the Arctic and Antarctic regions, the continuity or circumpolar distribution of the shore fishes is well established. The former is chiefly characterized by its Cottids, Cyclopterids, Zoarcids and Gadids, the latter by its Nototheniids. The theory of bipolarity receives no support from the study of the fishes.

As for the Arctic and Antarctic regions, the continuous or circumpolar distribution of the shore fishes is well established. The Arctic is mainly characterized by its Cottids, Cyclopterids, Zoarcids, and Gadids, while the Antarctic is defined by its Nototheniids. The theory of bipolarity is not supported by the study of the fishes.

Pelagic fishes, among which we find the largest Selachians and Teleosteans, are far less limited in their distribution, which, for many species, is nearly world-wide. Some are dependent upon currents, but the great majority being rapid swimmers able to continue their course for weeks, apparently without the necessity of rest (many sharks, scombrids, sword-fishes), pass from one ocean into the other. Most numerous between the tropics, many of these fishes occasionally wander far north and south of their habitual range, and there are few genera that are at all limited in their distribution.

Pelagic fish, including the largest sharks and bony fish, are much less restricted in where they can be found, with many species being nearly worldwide. Some rely on ocean currents, but most are fast swimmers that can travel for weeks without needing to rest (like many sharks, mackerels, and swordfish), moving freely from one ocean to another. While they are most abundant in tropical regions, many of these fish sometimes venture far north and south of their usual habitats, and there are very few groups that have a limited distribution.

Deep-sea fishes, of which between seven hundred and eight hundred species are known, belong to the most diverse groups and quite a number of families are exclusively bathybial (Chlamydoselachidae, Stomiatidae, Alepocephalidae, Nemichthyidae, Synaphobranchidae, Saccopharyngidae, Cetomimidae, Halosauridae, Lipogenyidae, Notacanthidae, Chiasmodontidae, Icosteidae, Muraenolepididae, Macruridae, Anomalopidae, Podatelidae, Trachypteridae, Lophotidae, Ceratiidae, Gigantactinidae). But they are all comparatively slight modifications of the forms living on the surface of the sea or in the shallow parts, from 269 which they may be regarded as derived. In no instance do these types show a structure which may be termed archaic when compared with their surface allies. That these fishes are localized in their vertical distribution, between the 100-fathoms line, often taken as the arbitrary limit of the bathybial fauna, and the depth of 2750 fathoms, the lowest point whence fishes have been procured, there is little doubt. But our knowledge is still too fragmentary to allow of any general conclusions, and the same applies to the horizontal distribution. Yet the same species may occur at most distant points; as these fishes dwell beyond the influence of the sun’s rays, they are not affected by temperature, and living in the Arctic zone or under the equator makes little difference to them. A great deal of evidence has been accumulated to show the gradual transition of the surface into the bathybial forms; a large number of surface fishes have been met with in deep water (from 100 to 500 fathoms), and these animals afford no support to Alexander Agassiz’s supposition of the existence of an azoic zone between the 200-fathoms line and the bottom.

Deep-sea fish, with around seven hundred to eight hundred known species, are among the most diverse groups, and several families are only found in deep waters (Chlamydoselachidae, Stomiatidae, Alepocephalidae, Nemichthyidae, Synaphobranchidae, Saccopharyngidae, Cetomimidae, Halosauridae, Lipogenyidae, Notacanthidae, Chiasmodontidae, Icosteidae, Muraenolepididae, Macruridae, Anomalopidae, Podatelidae, Trachypteridae, Lophotidae, Ceratiidae, Gigantactinidae). However, they are all relatively slight variations of the forms that live near the surface or in shallow areas, from which they can be considered derived. In every case, these types do not display a structure that could be called archaic compared to their surface relatives. It’s clear that these fish are limited in their vertical distribution, typically found between the 100-fathom line, often seen as the arbitrary limit of deep-sea fauna, and the depth of 2750 fathoms, the deepest point from which fish have been gathered. Nevertheless, our understanding is still too incomplete to draw any broad conclusions, and the same goes for horizontal distribution. Interestingly, the same species can be found in very far-apart locations; since these fish live beyond the reach of sunlight, they aren’t influenced by temperature, making them equally comfortable in the Arctic zone or near the equator. A lot of evidence has been gathered to demonstrate the gradual transition from surface to deep-sea forms; many surface fish have been found in deeper waters (from 100 to 500 fathoms), and these creatures do not support Alexander Agassiz’s theory about an azoic zone existing between the 200-fathom line and the bottom.

Brackish-water fishes occur also in salt and fresh water, in some localities at least, and belong to various groups of Teleosteans. Sticklebacks, gobies, grey mullets, blennies are among the best-known examples. The facility with which they accommodate themselves to changes in the medium in which they live has enabled them to spread readily over very large areas. The three-spined stickleback, for instance, occurs over nearly the whole of the cold and temperate parts of the northern hemisphere, whilst a grey mullet (Mugil capito) ranges without any appreciable difference in form from Scandinavia and the United States along all the Atlantic coasts to the Cape of Good Hope and Brazil. It would be hardly possible to base zoo-geographical divisions on the distribution of such forms.

Brackish-water fish are also found in both saltwater and freshwater in some areas, and they belong to various groups of Teleosteans. Sticklebacks, gobies, grey mullets, and blennies are among the most well-known examples. Their ability to adapt to changes in their environment has allowed them to spread across very large regions. The three-spined stickleback, for example, can be found throughout most of the cold and temperate regions of the northern hemisphere, while the grey mullet (Mugil capito) appears throughout the Atlantic coasts from Scandinavia to the United States, without any significant differences in form, all the way to the Cape of Good Hope and Brazil. It would be nearly impossible to establish zoo-geographical divisions based on the distribution of such species.

The fresh-water fishes, however, invite to such attempts. How greatly their distribution differs from that of terrestrial animals has long ago been emphasized. The key to their mode of dispersal is, with few exceptions, to be found in the hydrography of the continents, latitude and climate, excepting of course very great altitudes, being inconsiderable factors, the fish-fauna of a country deriving its character from the headwaters of the river-system which flows through it. The lower Nile, for instance, is inhabited by fishes bearing a close resemblance to, or even specifically identical with, those of tropical Africa, thus strikingly contrasting with the land-fauna of its banks. The knowledge of the river-systems is, however, not sufficient for tracing areas of distribution, for we must bear in mind the movements which have taken place on the surface of the earth, owing to which present conditions may not have existed within comparatively recent times, geologically speaking; and this is where the systematic study of the aquatic animals affords scope for conclusions having a direct bearing on the physical geography of the near past. It is not possible here to enter into the discussion of the many problems which the distribution of fresh-water fishes involves; we limit ourselves to an indication of the principal regions into which the world may be divided from this point of view. The main divisions proposed by Günther in the 9th edition of the Encyclopædia Britannica still appear the most satisfactory. They are as follows:—

The freshwater fish, however, encourage such attempts. It has long been pointed out how much their distribution differs from that of land animals. The key to their dispersal, with few exceptions, lies in the hydrography of the continents; factors like latitude and climate, except at very high altitudes, are not significant. The fish species of a country are shaped by the headwaters of the river system that runs through it. The lower Nile, for example, is home to fish that closely resemble or are even the same species as those found in tropical Africa, which starkly contrasts with the land animals along its banks. However, understanding the river systems alone isn’t enough to trace distribution areas; we must also consider the movements that have occurred on the earth’s surface, as the current conditions might not have existed in relatively recent geological times. This is where systematically studying aquatic animals helps provide insights relevant to the physical geography of the recent past. It’s not possible here to dive into all the issues related to the distribution of freshwater fish; we will limit ourselves to outlining the main regions into which the world can be divided from this perspective. The primary divisions suggested by Günther in the 9th edition of the Encyclopædia Britannica still seem to be the most satisfactory. They are as follows:—

I. The Northern Zone or Holarctic Region.—Characterized by Acipenseridae. Few Siluridae. Numerous Cyprinidae, Salmonidae, Esocidae, Percidae.

I. The Northern Zone or Holarctic Region.—Defined by sturgeons. A few catfish. Many minnows, salmon, pikes, and perches.

1. Europaeo-Asiatic or Palaearctic Region. Characterized by absence of osseous Ganoidei; Cobitinae and Barbus numerous.

1. Euro-Asian or Palaearctic Region. Characterized by the absence of bony Ganoidei; Cobitinae and Barbus are numerous.

2. North American or Nearctic Region. Characterized by osseous Ganoidei and abundance of Catostominae; but no Cobitinae or Barbus.

2. North American or Nearctic Region. Characterized by bony Ganoidei and a lot of Catostominae; but no Cobitinae or Barbus.

II. The Equatorial Zone.—Characterized by the development of Siluridae.

II. The Equatorial Region.—Defined by the emergence of Siluridae.

A. Cyprinoid Division. Characterized by presence of Cyprinidae, Mastacembelidae. Anabantidae, Ophiocephalidae.

A. Cyprinoid Division. Defined by the presence of Cyprinidae, Mastacembelidae, Anabantidae, and Ophiocephalidae.

1. Indian Region. Characterized by absence of Dipneusti, Polypteridae, Mormyridae and Characinidae. Cobitinae numerous.

1. Indian Region. Defined by the lack of Dipneusti, Polypteridae, Mormyridae, and Characinidae. Cobitinae are abundant.

2. African Region. Characterized by presence of Dipneusti, Polypterid and Mormyrid; Cichlid and Characinid numerous.

2. African Region. Notable for the presence of Dipneusti, Polypterid, and Mormyrid; Cichlids and Characinids are abundant.

B. Acyprinoid Division. Characterized by absence of Cyprinidae and the other families mentioned above.

B. Acyprinoid Division. Defined by the lack of Cyprinidae and the other families listed above.

1. Tropical American or Neotropical Region. Characterized by presence of Dipneusti; Cichlidae and Characinidae numerous; Gymnotidae and Loricariidae.

1. Tropical American or Neotropical Region. Characterized by the presence of Dipneusti; Cichlidae and Characinidae are numerous; Gymnotidae and Loricariidae.

2. Tropical Pacific Region. Includes the Australian as well as the Polynesian Region. Characterized by presence of Dipneusti. Cichlidae and Characinidae absent.

2. Tropical Pacific Region. This includes both the Australian and Polynesian Regions. It is characterized by the presence of Dipneusti. Cichlidae and Characinidae are absent.

III. The Southern Zone.—Characterized by absence of Cyprinidae and scarcity of Siluridae. Haplochitonidae and Galaxiidae represent the Salmonids and Esoces of the northern zone. One region only.

III. The South Zone.—Noted for lacking Cyprinidae and having few Siluridae. Haplochitonidae and Galaxiidae represent the Salmonids and Esoces of the northern zone. Only one region.

1. Antarctic Region. Characterized by the small number of species; the fishes of

1. Antarctic Region. It has a limited number of species; the fishes of

(a) The Tasmanian subregion;

The Tasmanian region;

(b) The New Zealand subregion; and

(b) The New Zealand subregion; and

(c) The Patagonian or Fuegian subregion being almost identical.

(c) The Patagonian or Fuegian subregion is nearly identical.

Although, as expressed in the above synopsis, the resemblance between the Indian and African regions is far greater than exists between them and the other regions of the equatorial zone, attention must be drawn to the marked affinity which some of the fishes of tropical Africa show to those of South America (Lepidosirenidae, Characinidae, Cichlidae, Nandidae), an affinity which favours the supposition of a connexion between these two parts of the world in early Tertiary times.

Although, as mentioned in the summary above, the similarities between the Indian and African regions are much stronger than those with other areas of the equatorial zone, it is important to note the significant similarities that some fish species in tropical Africa have with those in South America (Lepidosirenidae, Characinidae, Cichlidae, Nandidae). This similarity supports the idea of a connection between these two parts of the world in the early Tertiary period.

The boundaries of Günther’s regions may thus be traced, beginning with the equatorial zone, this being the richest.

The boundaries of Günther’s regions can be identified, starting with the equatorial zone, which is the most abundant.

Equatorial Zone.—Roughly speaking, the borders of this zoological zone coincide with the geographical limits of the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn; its characteristic forms, however, extend in undulating lines several degrees both northwards and southwards. Commencing from the west coast of Africa, the desert of the Sahara forms a boundary between the equatorial and northern zones; as the boundary approaches the Nile, it makes a sudden sweep towards the north as far as northern Syria, crosses through Persia and Afghanistan to the southern ranges of the Himalayas, and follows the course of the Yang-tse-Kiang, which receives its contingent of equatorial fishes through its southern tributaries. Its continuation through the North Pacific may be indicated by the tropic, which strikes the coast of Mexico at the southern end of the Gulf of California. Equatorial types of South America are known to extend so far northwards; and, by following the same line, the West India Islands are naturally included in this zone.

Equatorial Region.—Generally speaking, the boundaries of this zoological zone align with the geographical limits of the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn; however, its characteristic species extend in wavy lines several degrees both north and south. Starting from the west coast of Africa, the Sahara Desert acts as a barrier between the equatorial and northern zones; as the boundary approaches the Nile, it takes a sharp turn northward all the way to northern Syria, then moves through Persia and Afghanistan to the southern ranges of the Himalayas, and follows the Yangtze River, which gets its share of equatorial fish from its southern tributaries. Its extension through the North Pacific can be highlighted by the tropic that touches Mexico's coastline at the southern end of the Gulf of California. Equatorial species from South America are known to reach quite far north; and by following this line, the West Indies are naturally included in this zone.

Towards the south the equatorial zone embraces the whole of Africa and Madagascar, and seems to extend still farther south in Australia, its boundary probably following the southern coast of that continent; the detailed distribution of the freshwater fishes of south-western Australia has been little studied, but the tropical fishes of that region follow the principal watercourse, the Murray river, far towards the south and probably to its mouth. The boundary-line then stretches to the north of Tasmania and New Zealand, coinciding with the tropic until it strikes the western slope of the Andes, on the South American continent, where it again bends southward to embrace the system of the Rio de la Plata.

Towards the south, the equatorial zone covers all of Africa and Madagascar, and seems to extend even further south into Australia, with its boundary likely following the southern coast of that continent. The detailed distribution of freshwater fish in southwestern Australia hasn't been studied much, but the tropical fish in that area follow the main watercourse, the Murray River, quite far south, probably all the way to its mouth. The boundary then stretches north of Tasmania and New Zealand, aligning with the tropic until it reaches the western slope of the Andes in South America, where it again curves south to include the Rio de la Plata system.

The four regions into which the equatorial zone is divided arrange themselves into two well-marked divisions, one of which is characterized by the presence of Cyprinid fishes, combined with the development of Labyrinthic Percesoces (Anabantidae and Ophiocephalidae) and Mastacembelids, whilst in the other these types are absent. The boundary between the Cyprinoid and Acyprinoid division seems to follow the now exploded Wallace’s line—a line drawn from the south of the Philippines between Borneo and Celebes, and farther south between Bali and Lombok. Borneo abounds in Cyprinids; from the Philippine Islands a few only are known, and in Bali two species have been found; but none are known from Celebes or Lombok, or from islands situated farther east.

The four regions of the equatorial zone are divided into two clear divisions. One division is marked by the presence of Cyprinid fish along with the emergence of Labyrinthic Percesoces (Anabantidae and Ophiocephalidae) and Mastacembelids, while the other division lacks these types. The boundary between the Cyprinoid and Acyprinoid divisions seems to align with what was once known as Wallace’s line — a line drawn from the south of the Philippines between Borneo and Celebes, and further south between Bali and Lombok. Borneo is rich in Cyprinids; only a few are known from the Philippine Islands, and two species have been found in Bali, but none have been identified from Celebes, Lombok, or from islands located further east.

The Indian region comprises Asia south of the Himalayas and the Yang-tse-Kiang, and includes the islands to the west of Celebes and Lombok. Towards the north-east the island of Formosa, which also by other parts of its fauna shows the 270 characters of the equatorial zone, has received some characteristic Japanese freshwater fishes. Within the geographical boundaries of China the freshwater fishes of the tropics pass gradually into those of the northern zone, both being separated by a broad, debateable ground. The affluents of the great river traversing this district are more numerous from the south than from the north, and carry the southern fishes far into the temperate zone. Scarcely better defined is the boundary of this region towards the north-west, in which fishes were very poorly represented by types common to India and Africa.

The Indian region includes Asia south of the Himalayas and the Yangtze River and extends to the islands west of Celebes and Lombok. In the northeast, the island of Formosa, which also displays some characteristics of the equatorial zone through its unique wildlife, has introduced some distinct Japanese freshwater fish. Within the geographical limits of China, the tropical freshwater fish gradually transition into those of the northern region, separated by a broad, disputed area. The tributaries of the major river flowing through this area are more abundant from the south than from the north, transporting southern fish deep into the temperate zone. The boundary of this region to the northwest is similarly vague, where fish species are poorly represented, showing types common to both India and Africa.

The African region comprises the whole of Africa south of the Sahara. It might have been conjectured that the more temperate climate of its southern extremity would have been accompanied by a conspicuous difference in the fish fauna. But this is not the case; the difference between the tropical and southern parts of Africa consists simply in the gradual disappearance of specifically tropical forms, whilst Silurids, Cyprinids and even Anabas penetrate to its southern coast; no new form, except a Galaxias at the Cape of Good Hope, has entered to impart to South Africa a character distinct from the central portion of the continent. In the north-east the African fauna passes the isthmus of Suez and penetrates into Syria; the system of the Jordan presents so many African types that it has to be included in a description of the African region as well as of the Europaeo-Asiatic.

The African region includes all of Africa south of the Sahara. One might think that the milder climate of its southern tip would result in a noticeable difference in fish species. However, that's not the case; the distinction between the tropical and southern parts of Africa is mainly the gradual decline of tropical species, while Silurids, Cyprinids, and even Anabas reach its southern coast. No new species, except for a Galaxias at the Cape of Good Hope, has come in to give South Africa a character different from the central part of the continent. In the northeast, the African fauna crosses the Suez isthmus and moves into Syria; the Jordan River has so many African species that it must be included in a description of both the African region and the Europaeo-Asiatic.

The boundaries of the Neotropical or Tropical American region have been sufficiently indicated in the definition of the equatorial zone. A broad and most irregular band of country, in which the South and North American forms are mixed, exists in the north.

The borders of the Neotropical or Tropical American region have been clearly outlined in the definition of the equatorial zone. There's a wide and very irregular area where South American and North American species are mixed, located in the north.

The Tropical Pacific region includes all the islands east of Wallace’s line, New Guinea, Australia (with the exception of its south-eastern portion), and all the islands of the tropical Pacific to the Sandwich group.

The Tropical Pacific region covers all the islands east of Wallace’s line, New Guinea, Australia (except for its southeastern part), and all the islands of the tropical Pacific leading up to the Sandwich Islands.

Northern Zone.—The boundaries of the northern zone coincide in the main with the northern limit of the equatorial zone; but they overlap the latter at different points. This happens in Syria, as well as east of it, where the mixed faunae of the Jordan and the rivers of Mesopotamia demand the inclusion of this territory in the northern zone as well as in the equatorial; in the island of Formosa, where a Salmonid and several Japanese Cyprinids flourish; and in Central America, where a Lepidosteus, a Cyprinid (Sclerognathus meridionalis), and an Amiurus (A. meridionalis) represent the North American fauna in the midst of a host of tropical forms.

North Zone.—The boundaries of the northern zone generally line up with the northern edge of the equatorial zone; however, they overlap at various points. This occurs in Syria and to the east, where the mixed wildlife of the Jordan and the rivers of Mesopotamia require this area to be included in both the northern and equatorial zones; on the island of Formosa, where a Salmonid and several Japanese Cyprinids thrive; and in Central America, where a Lepidosteus, a Cyprinid (Sclerognathus meridionalis), and an Amiurus (A. meridionalis) represent the North American fauna amid a variety of tropical species.

There is no separate arctic zone for freshwater fishes; ichthyic life becomes extinct towards the pole wherever the fresh water remains frozen throughout the year, or thaws for a few weeks only; and the few fishes which extend into high latitudes belong to types in no wise differing from those of the more temperate south. The highest latitude at which fishes have been obtained is 82° N. lat., whence specimens of char (Salmo arcturus and Salmo naresii) have been brought back.

There isn't a distinct arctic zone for freshwater fish; fish life disappears as you move towards the pole wherever freshwater stays frozen all year or only thaws for a few weeks. The few fish that are found in higher latitudes are not different from those in the more temperate southern regions. The highest latitude where fish have been caught is 82° N. lat., from which samples of char (Salmo arcturus and Salmo naresii) have been collected.

The Palaearctic or Europaeo-Asiatic Region.—The western and southern boundaries of this region coincide with those of the northern zone. Bering Strait and the Kamchatka Sea have been conventionally taken as the boundary in the north, but the fishes of both coasts, so far as they are known, are not sufficiently distinct to be referred to two different regions. The Japanese islands exhibit a decided Palaearctic fish fauna with a slight influx of tropical forms in the south. In the east, as well as in the west, the distinction between the Europaeo-Asiatic and the North American regions disappears almost entirely as we advance farther towards the north. Finally, the Europaeo-Asiatic fauna mingles with African and Indian forms in Syria, Persia and Afghanistan.

The Palaearctic or Europaeo-Asiatic Region.—The western and southern boundaries of this region match those of the northern zone. Bering Strait and the Kamchatka Sea are traditionally considered the northern boundary, but the fish on both coasts, as far as we know, aren’t distinct enough to categorize into two different regions. The Japanese islands clearly show a Palaearctic fish population with a small mix of tropical species in the south. In both the east and west, the difference between the Europaeo-Asiatic and North American regions almost completely disappears as we move further north. Ultimately, the Europaeo-Asiatic fauna blends with African and Indian species in Syria, Persia, and Afghanistan.

The boundaries of the North American or Nearctic region have been sufficiently indicated. The main features and the distribution of this fauna are identical with those of the preceding region.

The boundaries of the North American or Nearctic region have been clearly defined. The key characteristics and the spread of this wildlife are the same as those of the previous region.

Southern Zone.—The boundaries of this zone have been indicated in the description of the equatorial zone; they overlap the southern boundaries of the latter in South Australia and South America, but we have not the means of defining the limits to which southern types extend northwards. This zone includes Tasmania, with at least a portion of south-eastern Australia (Tasmanian sub-region), New Zealand and the Auckland Islands (New Zealand sub-region), and Chile, Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego and the Falkland Islands (Fuegian sub-region). No freshwater fishes are known from Kerguelen’s Land, or from islands beyond 55° S. lat.

South Zone.—The boundaries of this zone have been outlined in the description of the equatorial zone; they overlap the southern limits of the latter in South Australia and South America, but we don’t have the means to pinpoint how far southern types extend northward. This zone includes Tasmania, at least part of southeastern Australia (Tasmanian sub-region), New Zealand and the Auckland Islands (New Zealand sub-region), as well as Chile, Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego, and the Falkland Islands (Fuegian sub-region). No freshwater fish are known to exist in Kerguelen’s Land or in islands south of 55° S. lat.

The Tropical American region is the richest (about 1300 species); next follow the African region (about 1000), the Indian region (about 800), the Europaeo-Asiatic region (about 500), the North American region (about 400), the Tropical Pacific region (about 60); whilst the Antarctic region is quite insignificant.

The Tropical American region has the most diversity with about 1300 species; then comes the African region with around 1000 species, followed by the Indian region with about 800, the Europaeo-Asiatic region with about 500, the North American region with around 400, and the Tropical Pacific region with about 60. Meanwhile, the Antarctic region is relatively unimportant.

Of the migratory fishes, or fishes travelling regularly from the sea to fresh waters, most, if not all, were derived from marine forms. The anadromous forms, annually or periodically ascending rivers for the purpose of spawning, such as several species of Acipenser, Salmo, Coregonus, Clupea (shads), and Petromyzon, are only known from the northern hemisphere, whilst the catadromous forms, spending most of their life in fresh water but resorting to the sea to breed, such as Anguilla, some species of Mugil, Galaxias and Pleuronectes, have representatives in both hemispheres.

Of the migratory fish, which travel regularly from the sea to freshwater, most, if not all, originated from marine species. The anadromous fish, which yearly or periodically swim up rivers to spawn, like several species of Acipenser, Salmo, Coregonus, Clupea (shads), and Petromyzon, are only found in the northern hemisphere. In contrast, the catadromous fish, which spend most of their lives in freshwater but go to the sea to reproduce, such as Anguilla, some species of Mugil, Galaxias, and Pleuronectes, are found in both hemispheres.

(G. A. B.)

1 For general anatomy of fishes, see T. W. Bridge, Cambridge Natural History, and R. Wiedersheim, Vergl. Anat. der Wirbeltiere. The latter contains an excellent bibliography.

1 For general anatomy of fish, see T. W. Bridge, Cambridge Natural History, and R. Wiedersheim, Vergl. Anat. der Wirbeltiere. The latter has a great bibliography.

2 Cf. J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Camb. Phil. Soc. x. 227.

2 Cf. J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Camb. Phil. Soc. x. 227.

3 For electric organs see W. Biedermann, Electro-Physiology.

3 For electric organs, check out W. Biedermann, Electro-Physiology.

4 J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xlvi.

4 J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. 46.

5 J. Graham Kerr, The Budgett Memorial Volume.

5 J. Graham Kerr, The Budgett Memorial Volume.

6 J. Phelps, Science, vol. N.S. ix. p. 366; J. Eycleshymer and Wilson, Amer. Journ. Anat. v. (1906) p. 154.

6 J. Phelps, Science, vol. N.S. ix. p. 366; J. Eycleshymer and Wilson, Amer. Journ. Anat. v. (1906) p. 154.

7 J. S. Budgett, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. xvi., 1901, p. 130.

7 J. S. Budgett, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. 16, 1901, p. 130.

8 L. Drüner, Zool. Jahrbücher Anat. Band xix. (1904), S. 434.

8 L. Drüner, Zool. Jahrbücher Anat. Volume xix. (1904), p. 434.

9 J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. xlvi. 423.

9 J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. xlvi. 423.

10 J. S. Budgett, op. cit.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ J. S. Budgett, same source

11 W. E. Agar, Anat. Anz., 1905, S. 298.

11 W. E. Agar, Anat. Anz., 1905, S. 298.

12 J. Graham Kerr, The Budgett Memorial Volume.

12 J. Graham Kerr, The Budgett Memorial Volume.

13 J. Phelps, Science, vol. N.S. ix. p. 366; J. Eycleshymer and Wilson, Amer. Journ. Anat., v. 1906, p. 154.

13 J. Phelps, Science, vol. N.S. ix. p. 366; J. Eycleshymer and Wilson, Amer. Journ. Anat., v. 1906, p. 154.

14: F. Maurer, Morphol. Jahrb. ix., 1884, S. 229, and xiv., 1888, S. 175.

14: F. Maurer, Morphol. Jahrb. ix., 1884, p. 229, and xiv., 1888, p. 175.

15 J. Rückert, Arch. Entwickelungsmech. Band iv., 1897, S. 298; J. Graham Kerr, Phil. Trans. B. 192, 1900, p. 325, and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

15 J. Rückert, Arch. Entwickelungsmech. Volume iv., 1897, p. 298; J. Graham Kerr, Phil. Trans. B. 192, 1900, p. 325, and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

16 Cuvier et Valenciennes, Hist. nat. des poiss. xix., 1846, p. 151.

16 Cuvier and Valenciennes, History of Natural History of Fish xix., 1846, p. 151.

17 J. Rathke, Üb. d. Darmkanal u.s.w. d. Fische, Halle, 1824, S. 62.

17 J. Rathke, On the Intestine and Other Aspects of Fish, Halle, 1824, p. 62.

18 Cf. W. Biedermann, Electro-Physiology.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See W. Biedermann, Electro-Physiology.

19 Literature in N. K. Koltzoff, Bull. Soc. Nat. Moscou, 1901, P. 259.

19 Literature in N. K. Koltzoff, Bull. Soc. Nat. Moscou, 1901, P. 259.

20 J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Zool. Soc. Lond. (1901), p. 484.

20 J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Zool. Soc. Lond. (1901), p. 484.

21 J. S. Budgett, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. xv. (1901), vol. p. 324.

21 J. S. Budgett, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. xv. (1901), vol. p. 324.

22 H. F. Jungersen, Arb. zool. zoot. Inst. Würzburg, Band ix., 1889.

22 H. F. Jungersen, Arb. zool. zoot. Inst. Würzburg, Volume 9, 1889.

23 E. J. Bles, Proc. Roy. Soc. 62, 1897, p. 232.

23 E. J. Bles, Proc. Roy. Soc. 62, 1897, p. 232.

24 J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Zool. Soc. Lond. (1901) p. 484.

24 J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Zool. Soc. Lond. (1901) p. 484.

25 F. M. Balfour and W. N. Parker, Phil. Trans. (1882).

25 F. M. Balfour and W. N. Parker, Phil. Trans. (1882).

26 J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Zool. Soc. Lond. (1901), p. 495.

26 J. Graham Kerr, Proc. Zool. Soc. Lond. (1901), p. 495.

27 H. Gadow and E. C. Abbott, Phil. Trans. 186 (1895), p. 163.

27 H. Gadow and E. C. Abbott, Phil. Trans. 186 (1895), p. 163.

28 For development cf. Gaupp in Hertwig’s Handbuch der Entwickelungslehre.

28 For development see Gaupp in Hertwig’s Handbuch der Entwickelungslehre.

29 Cf. W. E. Agar, Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin. xlv. (1906), 49.

29 Cf. W. E. Agar, Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin. xlv. (1906), 49.

30 Bashford Dean, Journ. Morph. ix. (1894) 87, and Trans. New York Acad. Sci. xiii. (1894) 115.

30 Bashford Dean, Journ. Morph. ix. (1894) 87, and Trans. New York Acad. Sci. xiii. (1894) 115.

31 R. Semon, Zool. Forschungsreisen, Band i. § 115.

31 R. Semon, Zool. Research Travels, Volume 1. § 115.

32 O. Hertwig, Arch. mikr. Anat. xi. (1874).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ O. Hertwig, Arch. mikr. Anat. 11. (1874).

33 R. H. Traquair, Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin. xxxix. (1899).

33 R. H. Traquair, Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin. xxxix. (1899).

34 Cf. E. S. Goodrich, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. xlvii. (1904), 465.

34 Cf. E. S. Goodrich, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. xlvii. (1904), 465.

35 R. H. Traquair, Journ. Anat. Phys. v. (1871) 166; J. S. Budgett, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. xvi. 315.

35 R. H. Traquair, Journ. Anat. Phys. v. (1871) 166; J. S. Budgett, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. xvi. 315.

36 T. W. Bridge, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. xiv. (1898) 350; W. E. Agar, op. cit.

36 T. W. Bridge, Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond. xiv. (1898) 350; W. E. Agar, op. cit.

37 J. V. Boas, Morphol. Jahrb. vi. (1880).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ J. V. Boas, *Morphol. Jahrb.* vi. (1880).

38 Cf. F. Hochstetter in O. Hertwig Handbuch der Entwickelungslehre.

38 See F. Hochstetter in O. Hertwig Handbook of Developmental Theory.

39 C. v. Kupffer, Studien z. vergl. Enlwickelungsgeschichte der Cranioten.

39 C. v. Kupffer, Study on the Comparative Development History of Craniota.

40 Cf. F. K. Studnička’s excellent account of the parietal organs in A. Oppel’s Lehrbuch vergl, mikr. Anatomie, T. v. (1905).

40 See F. K. Studnička’s excellent description of the parietal organs in A. Oppel’s Textbook of Comparative Microscopic Anatomy, Vol. v. (1905).

41 2. F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1901); J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xlvi., and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

41 2. F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1901); J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xlvi., and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

42 J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xlvi.

42 J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. 46.

43 F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1901); J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xlvi., and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

43 F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1901); J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. xlvi., and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

44 G. Elliot Smith, Anat. Anz. (1907).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ G. Elliot Smith, Anat. Anz. (1907).

45 F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1896).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1896).

46 J. Graham Kerr, The Budgett Memorial Volume.

46 J. Graham Kerr, The Budgett Memorial Volume.

47 F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1901); J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. xlvi., and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

47 F. K. Studnička, S.B. böhm. Gesell. (1901); J. Graham Kerr, Quart. Journ. Micr. Sci. vol. 46, and The Budgett Memorial Volume.

48: R. Wiedersheim, Kölliker’s Festschrift: cf. also Anat. Anz. (1887).

48: R. Wiedersheim, Kölliker’s Festschrift: see also Anat. Anz. (1887).

49 A. Brauer, Verhandl. deutsch. zool. Gesell. (1902).

49 A. Brauer, Proceedings of the German Zoological Society (1902).

50 C. Stewart, Journ. Linn. Soc. Zool. (1906), 439.

50 C. Stewart, Journ. Linn. Soc. Zool. (1906), 439.

51 T. W. Bridge and A. C. Haddon, Phil. Trans. 184 (1893).

51 T. W. Bridge and A. C. Haddon, Phil. Trans. 184 (1893).

52 For literature of lateral line organs see Cole, Trans. Linn. Soc. vii. (1898).

52 For literature on lateral line organs, see Cole, Trans. Linn. Soc. vii. (1898).

53 For literature of lateral line organs see Cole, Trans. Linn. Soc., vii. (1898).

53 For literature on lateral line organs, see Cole, Trans. Linn. Soc., vii. (1898).

54 M. Fürbringer in Gegenbaur’s Festschrift (1896).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ M. Fürbringer in Gegenbaur’s Festschrift (1896).


ICHTHYOPHAGI (Gr. for “fish-eaters”), the name given by ancient geographers to several coast-dwelling peoples in different parts of the world and ethnically unrelated. Nearchus mentions such a race as inhabiting the barren shores of the Mekran on the Arabian Sea; Pausanias locates them on the western coast of the Red Sea. Ptolemy speaks of fish-eaters in Ethiopia, and on the west coast of Africa; while Pliny relates the existence of such tribes on the islands in the Persian Gulf. Herodotus (book i. c. 200) mentions three tribes of the Babylonians who were solely fish-eaters, and in book iii. c. 19 refers to Ichthyophagi in Egypt. The existence of such tribes was confirmed by Sir Richard F. Burton (El-Medinah, p. 144).

ICHTHYOPHAGI (Greek for “fish-eaters”), is the term ancient geographers used for various coastal peoples around the world who were not ethnically related. Nearchus mentions a group living along the desolate shores of Mekran on the Arabian Sea; Pausanias places them on the western coast of the Red Sea. Ptolemy talks about fish-eaters in Ethiopia and on the west coast of Africa, while Pliny notes the existence of such tribes on the islands in the Persian Gulf. Herodotus (book i. c. 200) identifies three tribes of Babylonians that were strictly fish-eaters, and in book iii. c. 19, he refers to Ichthyophagi in Egypt. The existence of these tribes was verified by Sir Richard F. Burton (El-Medinah, p. 144).


ICHTHYOSAURUS, a fish or porpoise-shaped marine reptile which characterized the Mesozoic period and became extinct immediately after the deposition of the Chalk. It was named Ichthyosaurus (Gr. fish-lizard) by C. König in 1818 in allusion to its outward form, and is best known by nearly complete skeletons from the Lias of England and Germany. The large head is produced into a slender, pointed snout; and the jaws are provided with a row of conical teeth nearly uniform in size and deeply implanted in a continuous groove. The eye is enormous, and is surrounded by a ring of overlapping “sclerotic plates,” which would serve to protect the eye-ball during diving. The vertebrae are very numerous, short and deeply biconcave, imparting great flexibility to the backbone as in fishes. The neck is so short and thick that it is practically absent. There are always two pairs of paddle-like limbs, the hinder pair never disappearing as in porpoises and other Cetacea, though often much reduced in size. A few specimens from the Upper Lias of Württemberg (in the museums of Stuttgart, Tübingen, Budapest and Chicago) exhibit remains of the skin, which is quite smooth and forms two triangular median fins, one in the middle of the back, the other at the end of the tail. The dorsal fin consists merely of skin without any internal skeleton, while 271 the tail-fin is expanded in a vertical plane and has the lower lobe stiffened by the tapering end of the backbone, which is sharply bent downwards. Immature individuals are sometimes observable within the full-grown skeletons, suggesting that this reptile was viviparous.

ICHTHYOSAURUS, is a marine reptile shaped like a fish or porpoise that was prominent during the Mesozoic era and went extinct right after the Chalk was deposited. It was named Ichthyosaurus (Gr. fish-lizard) by C. König in 1818, referencing its outward appearance, and is best known from nearly complete skeletons found in the Lias of England and Germany. Its large head has a slender, pointed snout, and the jaws contain a row of conical teeth that are mostly uniform in size and deeply set in a continuous groove. The eye is huge and surrounded by a ring of overlapping “sclerotic plates” to protect the eyeball while diving. The vertebrae are numerous, short, and deeply biconcave, which gives the backbone great flexibility like that of fish. The neck is so short and thick that it almost doesn’t exist. There are always two pairs of paddle-like limbs, with the back pair never disappearing like they do in porpoises and other cetaceans, although they can be significantly reduced in size. Some specimens from the Upper Lias of Württemberg (in the museums of Stuttgart, Tübingen, Budapest, and Chicago) show remnants of skin that is very smooth and forms two triangular median fins—one in the middle of the back and the other at the end of the tail. The dorsal fin is just skin without any internal skeleton, while the tail fin expands vertically and has the lower lobe stiffened by the tapering end of the backbone, which bends sharply downwards. Immature individuals are sometimes found within the fully grown skeletons, suggesting that this reptile gave birth to live young.

From British Museum Guide to Fossil Reptiles and Fishes, by permission of the Trustees.
Skeleton of Ichthyosaurus communis, with outline of body and fins, from the Lower Lias of Lyme Regis, Dorset; original nearly four metres in length.

The largest known species of Ichthyosaurus is I. trigonodon from the Upper Lias of Banz, Bavaria, with the head measuring about two metres in length and probably representing an animal not less than ten metres in total length. I. platyodon, from the English Lower Lias, seems to have been almost equally large. I. intermedius and I. communis, which are the commonest species in the English Lower Lias, rarely exceed a length of three or four metres. The species in rocks later than the Lias are known for the most part only by fragments, but the remains of Lower Cretaceous age are noteworthy for their very wide geographical distribution, having been found in Europe, the East Indies, Australia, New Zealand and South America. Allied Ichthyosaurians named Ophthalmosaurus and Baptanodon, from the Upper Jurassic of England and North America, are nearly or quite toothless and have very flexible broad paddles. The earliest known Ichthyosaurians (Mixosaurus), which occur in the Trias, are of diminutive size, with paddles which suggest that these marine reptiles were originally descended from land or marsh animals (see Reptiles).

The biggest known species of Ichthyosaurus is I. trigonodon from the Upper Lias of Banz, Bavaria, with a head about two meters long and likely representing an animal that was at least ten meters in total length. I. platyodon, from the English Lower Lias, seems to have been almost just as large. I. intermedius and I. communis, the most common species in the English Lower Lias, rarely reach lengths of three or four meters. The species found in rocks younger than the Lias are mostly known only from fragments, but the remains from the Lower Cretaceous period are notable for their wide geographical distribution, having been found in Europe, the East Indies, Australia, New Zealand, and South America. Related Ichthyosaurians called Ophthalmosaurus and Baptanodon, from the Upper Jurassic of England and North America, are nearly or completely toothless and have very flexible, broad paddles. The earliest known Ichthyosaurians (Mixosaurus), which appeared during the Trias, are quite small, with paddles that suggest these marine reptiles originally descended from land or marsh animals (see Reptiles).

Authorities.—R. Owen, A Monograph of the Fossil Reptilia of the Liassic Formations, part iii. (Mon. Palaeont. Soc., 1881); E. Fraas, Die Ichthyosaurier der süddeutschen Trias- und Jura-Ablagerungen (Tübingen, 1891). Also good figures in T. Hawkins, The Book of the Great Sea-dragons (London, 1840).

Authorities.—R. Owen, A Monograph of the Fossil Reptiles of the Liassic Formations, part iii. (Mon. Palaeont. Soc., 1881); E. Fraas, The Ichthyosaurs of the Southern German Triassic and Jurassic Deposits (Tübingen, 1891). Also features great illustrations in T. Hawkins, The Book of the Great Sea Dragons (London, 1840).

(A. S. Wo.)

ICHTHYOSIS, or Xeroderma, a general thickening of the whole skin and marked accumulation of the epidermic elements, with atrophy of the sebaceous glands, giving rise to a hard, dry, scaly condition, whence the names, from ἰχθύς, fish, and ξηρός, dry, δέρμα, skin. This disease generally first appears in infancy, and is probably congenital. It differs in intensity and in distribution, and is generally little amenable to any but palliative remedies, such as the regular application of oily substances. Ichthyosis lingualis (“smokers’ tongue”), a variety common in heavy smokers, occurs in opaque white patches on the tongue, gums and roof of the mouth. Cancer occasionally starts from the patches. The affection is obstinate, but may disappear spontaneously.

ICHTHYOSIS, or Xeroderma, is a condition characterized by a general thickening of the skin and a significant buildup of skin cells, along with the shrinking of sebaceous glands, leading to a hard, dry, scaly texture. The names come from fish, meaning fish, and dry, meaning dry, and skin, meaning skin. This disease usually shows up in infancy and is likely hereditary. It varies in severity and spread and is typically not very responsive to anything beyond soothing treatments, like the regular use of oily substances. Ichthyosis lingualis (“smokers’ tongue”), a type often seen in heavy smokers, appears as opaque white patches on the tongue, gums, and roof of the mouth. Cancer can sometimes develop from these patches. The condition is persistent but may resolve on its own.


ICKNIELD STREET. (i) The Saxon name (earlier Icenhylt) of a prehistoric (not Roman) “Ridgeway” along the Berkshire downs and the Chilterns, which crossed the Thames near Streatley and ended somewhere near Tring or Dunstable. In some places there are traces of a double road, one line on the hills and one in the valley below, as if for summer and winter use. No modern highroad follows it for any distance. Antiquaries have supposed that it once ran on to Royston, Newmarket and Norfolk, and have connected its name with the Iceni, the Celtic tribe inhabiting East Anglia before the Roman conquest. But the name does not occur in early documents so far east, and it has certainly nothing to do with that of the Iceni (Haverfield, Victoria History of Norfolk, i. 286). See further Ermine Street. (2) A Roman road which ran through Derby, Lichfield, Birmingham and Alcester is sometimes called Icknield Street and sometimes Rycknield Street. The origin of this nomenclature is very obscure (Vict. Hist. of Warwick, i. 239).

ICKNIELD STREET. (i) The Saxon name (earlier Icenhylt) for a prehistoric (not Roman) “Ridgeway” that ran along the Berkshire downs and the Chilterns, crossing the Thames near Streatley and ending somewhere near Tring or Dunstable. In some areas, traces of a double road can be found, with one path on the hills and another in the valley below, seemingly for summer and winter use. No modern highway follows it for any significant distance. Historians believe it once extended to Royston, Newmarket, and Norfolk, linking its name to the Iceni, the Celtic tribe that lived in East Anglia before the Roman conquest. However, the name doesn’t appear in early documents that far east, and it certainly has nothing to do with the Iceni (Haverfield, Victoria History of Norfolk, i. 286). See further Ermine Street. (2) A Roman road that went through Derby, Lichfield, Birmingham, and Alcester is sometimes referred to as Icknield Street and sometimes as Rycknield Street. The origin of this naming is quite unclear (Vict. Hist. of Warwick, i. 239).

(F. J. H.)

ICON (through the Latinized form, from Gr. εἰκών, portrait, image), generally any image or portrait-figure, but specially the term applied to the representations in the Eastern Church of sacred personages, whether in painting or sculpture, and particularly to the small metal plaques in archaic Byzantine style, venerated by the adherents of the Greek Church. See Iconoclasts; Image-Worship; Byzantine Art. The term “iconography,” once confined to the study of engravings (q.v.), is now applied to the history of portrait images in Christian art, though it is also used with a qualifying adjective of Greek, Roman and other art.

ICON (from the Latinized form, derived from Gr. icon, meaning portrait or image), generally refers to any image or portrait figure, but specifically denotes the representations in the Eastern Church of sacred figures, whether in paintings or sculptures, and especially the small metal plaques in the archaic Byzantine style, which are revered by followers of the Greek Church. See Iconoclasts; Image-Worship; Byzantine Art. The term “iconography,” which once referred only to the study of engravings (q.v.), is now used to describe the history of portrait images in Christian art, though it can also refer to Greek, Roman, and other art when used with a qualifying adjective.


ICONIUM (mod. Konia), a city of Asia Minor, the last of the Phrygian land towards Lycaonia, was commonly reckoned to Lycaonia in the Roman time, but retained its old Phrygian connexion and population to a comparatively late date. Its natural surroundings must have made it an important town from the beginning of organized society in this region. It lies in an excellently fertile plain, 6 m. from the Pisidian mountains on the west, with mountains more distant on the north and south, while to the east the dead level plain stretches away for hundreds of miles, though the distant view is interrupted by island-like mountains. Streams from the Pisidian mountains make the land on the south-west and south of the city a garden; but on the east and north-east a great part of the naturally fertile soil is uncultivated. Trees grow nowhere except in the gardens near the city. Irrigation is necessary for productiveness, and the water-supply is now deficient. A much greater supply was available for agriculture in ancient times and might be reintroduced.

ICONIUM (mod. Konia), a city in Asia Minor, was the last part of Phrygian land before reaching Lycaonia. During Roman times, it was often considered part of Lycaonia, but it maintained its historical Phrygian ties and population for quite a long time. Its natural surroundings must have made it an important town right from the start of organized society in this area. It sits in an incredibly fertile plain, 6 miles from the Pisidian mountains to the west, with more distant mountains to the north and south, while to the east, the flat land stretches for hundreds of miles, interrupted by island-like mountains in the distance. Streams from the Pisidian mountains turn the land to the southwest and south of the city into a garden; however, a large portion of the naturally fertile soil to the east and northeast remains uncultivated. Trees only grow in the gardens near the city. Irrigation is essential for productivity, and currently, the water supply is lacking. A much greater supply was available for agriculture in ancient times and could be reintroduced.

Originally a Phrygian city, as almost every authority who has come into contact with the population calls it, and as is implied in Acts xiv. 6, it was in a political sense the chief city of the Lycaonian tetrarchy added to the Galatian country about 165 B.C., and it was part of the Roman province Galatia from 25 B.C. to about A.D. 295. Then it was included in the province Pisidia (as Ammianus Marcellinus describes it) till 372, after which it formed part of the new province Lycaonia so long as the provincial division lasted. Later it was a principal city of the theme of Anatolia. It suffered much from the Arab raids in the three centuries following A.D. 660; its capture in 708 is mentioned, but it never was held as a city of the caliphs. In later Roman and Byzantine times it must have been a large and wealthy city. It was a metropolis and an archbishopric, and one of the earliest councils of the church was held there in A.D. 235. The ecclesiastical organization of Lycaonia and the country round Iconium on all sides was complete in the early 4th century, and monuments of later 3rd and 4th century Christianity are extremely numerous. The history of Christian Iconium is utterly obscure. The city was thrice visited by St Paul, probably in A.D. 47, 50 and 53; and it is the principal scene of the tale of Paul and Thecla (which though apocryphal has certainly some historical basis; see Thecla). There was a distinct Roman element in Iconium, arising doubtless from the presence of Roman traders. This was recognized by Claudius, who granted the honorary title Claudiconium, and by Hadrian, who elevated the city to the rank of a Roman colony about A.D. 130 under the name Colonia Aelia Hadriana Augusta Iconiensium. The period of its greatest splendour was after the conquest by the Seljuk Turks about 1072-1074. It soon became the capital of the Seljuk state, and one of the most brilliant cities of the world. The palace of the sultans and the mosque of Ala ed-dīn Kaikobād formerly covered great part of the Acropolis hill in the northern part of the city. Farther south there is still the great complex of buildings which form the chief seat of the Mevlevi dervishes, a sect widely spread over Anatolia. Many other splendid mosques and royal tombs adorned the city, and justified the Turkish proverb, “See all the world; but see Konia.” The walls, about 2 m. in circumference, consisted of a core of rubble and concrete, coated with ancient stones, inscriptions, sculptures and architectural marbles, forming a striking sight, which no traveller ever examined in detail. Beyond the walls extended the gardens and villas of a prosperous Oriental population, especially on the south-west towards the suburb of Meram.

Originally a Phrygian city, as almost every expert who has interacted with the locals describes it, and as mentioned in Acts 14:6, it was politically the main city of the Lycaonian tetrarchy added to the Galatian region around 165 B.C. It was part of the Roman province of Galatia from 25 B.C. until about A.D. 295. Then it was included in the province of Pisidia (as described by Ammianus Marcellinus) until 372, after which it became part of the new province of Lycaonia until the provincial division ended. Later, it was a major city of the theme of Anatolia. It suffered greatly from Arab raids in the three centuries after A.D. 660; its capture in 708 is noted, but it was never controlled as a city of the caliphs. During later Roman and Byzantine times, it must have been a large and wealthy city. It was a metropolis and an archbishopric, and one of the earliest church councils took place there in A.D. 235. The ecclesiastical organization of Lycaonia and the surrounding area of Iconium was fully developed in the early 4th century, and there are numerous monuments from later 3rd and 4th century Christianity. The history of Christian Iconium is entirely unclear. The city was visited three times by St. Paul, likely in A.D. 47, 50, and 53; and it is the main setting for the story of Paul and Thecla (which, although apocryphal, likely has some historical foundation; see Thecla). There was a notable Roman influence in Iconium, likely due to the presence of Roman merchants. This was acknowledged by Claudius, who granted the honorary title Claudiconium, and by Hadrian, who upgraded the city to the status of a Roman colony around A.D. 130, naming it Colonia Aelia Hadriana Augusta Iconiensium. The city’s peak of prosperity came after it was conquered by the Seljuk Turks around 1072-1074. It quickly became the capital of the Seljuk state and one of the most illustrious cities in the world. The sultans' palace and the mosque of Ala ed-dīn Kaikobād once covered a large part of the Acropolis hill in the northern section of the city. Further south, there is still a large complex of buildings that serves as the main center for the Mevlevi dervishes, a sect widespread across Anatolia. Many other magnificent mosques and royal tombs decorated the city, affirming the Turkish saying, “See all the world; but see Konia.” The walls, about 2 miles in circumference, consisted of a core of rubble and concrete, covered with ancient stones, inscriptions, sculptures, and architectural marbles, creating a remarkable sight that no traveler ever examined closely. Beyond the walls lay the gardens and villas of a prosperous Oriental population, particularly to the southwest towards the suburb of Meram.

When the Seljuk state broke up, and the Osmanli or Ottoman sovereignty arose, Konia decayed, its population dwindled and the splendid early Turkish buildings were suffered to go to ruin. As trade and intercourse diminished Konia grew poorer and more ruinous. The walls and the palace, still perfect in the beginning of the 19th century, were gradually pulled down for building material, and in 1882 there remained only a small part of the walls, from which all the outer stones had been removed, while the palace was a ruin. At that time and for some years later a large part of Konia was like a city of the dead. But about 1895 the advent of the Anatolian railway began to restore its prosperity. A good supply of drinking water was 272 brought to the city by Ferid Pasha, who governed the vilayet ably for several years, till in 1903 he was appointed Grand Vizier. The sacred buildings, mosques, &c., were patched up (except a few which were quite ruinous) and the walls wholly removed, but an unsightly fragment of a palace-tower still remained in 1906. In 1904-1905 the first two sections of the Bagdad railway, 117 m., to Karaman and Eregli, were built. In the city there is a branch of the Ottoman bank, a government technical school, a French Catholic mission and a school, an Armenian Protestant school for boys, an American mission school for girls, mainly Armenian, and other educational establishments.

When the Seljuk state fell apart and the Ottoman sovereignty emerged, Konia declined, its population shrank, and the magnificent early Turkish buildings fell into disrepair. As trade and communication decreased, Konia became poorer and more desolate. The walls and the palace, which were still intact at the beginning of the 19th century, were gradually torn down for building materials, and by 1882, only a small section of the walls remained, stripped of their outer stones, while the palace had turned to ruins. At that time and for several years afterward, much of Konia resembled a ghost town. However, around 1895, the arrival of the Anatolian railway began to restore its prosperity. Ferid Pasha, who skillfully governed the vilayet for several years until he was appointed Grand Vizier in 1903, brought a good supply of drinking water to the city. The sacred buildings, mosques, etc., were repaired (except for a few that were entirely beyond saving), and the walls were completely removed, although an unsightly remnant of a palace tower still stood in 1906. Between 1904-1905, the first two sections of the Baghdad railway, totaling 117 miles, to Karaman and Eregli, were constructed. The city has a branch of the Ottoman bank, a government technical school, a French Catholic mission and school, an Armenian Protestant boys' school, an American girls' mission school, primarily for Armenians, and various other educational institutions.

The founder of the Mevlevi dancing dervishes, the poet Mahommed Jelal-ed-Din (Rumi), in 1307, though tempted to assume the inheritance along with the empire of the Seljuk sultan Ala ed-dīn Kaikobad III., who died without heirs, preferred to pass on the power to Osman, son of Ertogrul, and with his own hands invested Osman and girt him with the sword: this investiture was the legitimate beginning of the Osmanli authority. The heirs of Jelal-ed-Din (Rumi) were favoured by the Osmanli sultans until 1516, when Selim was on the point of destroying the Mevlevi establishment as hostile to the Osmanli and the faith; and though he did not do so the Mevlevi and their chiefs were deprived of influence and dignity. In 1829 Mahmud II. restored their dignity in part, and in 1889 Abd-ul-Hamid II. confirmed their exemption from military duty. The head of the Mevlevi dervishes (Aziz-Effendi, Hazreti-Mevlana, Mollah-Unkiar, commonly styled simply Chelebi-Effendi) has the right to gird on the sultan’s sword at his investiture, and is master of the considerable revenues of the greatest religious establishment in the empire. He has also the privilege of corresponding direct with the caliph; but otherwise is regarded as rather opposed to the Osmanli administration, and has no real power.

The founder of the Mevlevi dancing dervishes, poet Mahommed Jelal-ed-Din (Rumi), in 1307, was tempted to take on the inheritance along with the empire of the Seljuk sultan Ala ed-dīn Kaikobad III, who died without heirs. However, he chose to pass the power to Osman, son of Ertogrul, and personally invested Osman and belted him with the sword. This ceremony marked the legitimate start of the Osmanli authority. The descendants of Jelal-ed-Din (Rumi) were favored by the Osmanli sultans until 1516, when Selim nearly dismantled the Mevlevi community for being a threat to the Osmanli and their faith; although he ultimately did not, the Mevlevi and their leaders lost influence and status. In 1829, Mahmud II partially restored their dignity, and in 1889, Abd-ul-Hamid II confirmed their exemption from military duty. The head of the Mevlevi dervishes (Aziz-Effendi, Hazreti-Mevlana, Mollah-Unkiar, usually referred to simply as Chelebi-Effendi) has the right to wear the sultan's sword during his investiture and manages the significant revenues of the largest religious institution in the empire. He also has the privilege to correspond directly with the caliph; however, he is generally seen as somewhat opposed to the Osmanli administration and holds no real power.

Iconium is distant by rail 466 m. from the Bosporus at Haidar-Pasha, and 389 from Smyrna by way of Afium-Kara-Hissar. It has recently become the seat of a considerable manufacture of carpets, owing to the cheapness of labour. The population was estimated at 44,000 in 1890, and is now probably over 50,000. Mercury mines have begun to be worked; other minerals are known to exist.

Iconium is 466 km away by train from the Bosporus at Haidar-Pasha and 389 km from Smyrna through Afium-Kara-Hissar. It has recently become a hub for carpet manufacturing due to the low cost of labor. The population was estimated to be 44,000 in 1890 and is likely over 50,000 now. Mercury mines have started operations, and other minerals are known to be present.

(W. M. Ra.)

ICONOCLASTS (Gr. εἰκονοκλάστης: εἰκών, image, and κλάειν, to break), the name applied particularly to the opponents in the 8th and 9th centuries of the use of images in Christian cult.

ICONOCLASTS (Gr. iconoclast: image, image, and κλάειν, to break), the term specifically used for those who opposed the use of images in Christian worship during the 8th and 9th centuries.

As regards the attitude towards religious images assumed by the primitive Christian Church, several questions have often been treated as one which cannot be too carefully kept apart. There can be no doubt that the early Christians were unanimous in condemning heathen image-worship and the various customs, some immoral, with which it was associated. A form of iconolatry specially deprecated in the New Testament was the then prevalent adoration of the images of the reigning emperors (see Rev. xv. 2). It is also tolerably certain that, if for no other reasons besides the Judaism, obscurity, and poverty of the early converts to Christianity, the works of art seen in their meeting-houses cannot at first have been numerous. Along with these reasons would co-operate towards the exclusion of visible aids to devotion, not only the church’s sacramental use of Christ’s name as a name of power, and its living sense of his continued real though unseen presence, but also, during the first years, its constant expectation of his second advent as imminent. It was a common accusation brought against Jews and Christians that they had “no altars, no temples, no known images” (Min. Fel. Oct. c. 10), that “they set up no image or form of any god” (see Arnob. Adv. Gent. vi. I; similarly Celsus); and this charge was never denied; on the contrary Origen gloried in it (c. Celsum, bk. 7, p. 386). At a comparatively early date, indeed, we read of various Gnostic sects calling in the fine arts to aid their worship; thus Irenaeus (Haer. i. 25. 6), speaking of the followers of Marcellina, says that “they possess images, some of them painted, and others formed from different kinds of material; and they maintain that a likeness of Christ was made by Pilate at that time when Jesus lived among men. They crown these images, and set them up along with the images of the philosophers of the world; that is to say, with the images of Pythagoras and Plato and Aristotle and the rest. They have also other modes of honouring these images after the same manner as the Gentiles” (cf. Aug. De Haer. c. 7). It is also well known that the emperor Alexander Severus found a place for several Scripture characters and even for Christ in his lararium (Lamprid. Vit. Alex. Sev. c. 29). But there is no evidence that such a use of images extended at that period to orthodox Christian circles. The first unmistakable indication of the public use of the painter’s art for directly religious ends does not occur until A.D. 306, when the synod of Elvira, Spain, decreed (can. 36) that “pictures ought not to be in a church, lest that which is worshipped and adored be painted on walls.”1 This canon is proof that the use of sacred pictures in public worship was not at the beginning of the 4th century a thing unknown within the church in Spain; and the presumption is that in other places, about the same period, the custom was looked upon with a more tolerant eye. Indications of the existence of allied forms of sacred Christian art prior to this period are not wholly wanting. It seems possible to trace some of the older and better frescos in the catacombs to a very early age; and Bible manuscripts were often copiously illuminated and illustrated even before the middle of the 4th century. An often-quoted passage from Tertullian (De Pudic. c. 10, cf. c. 7) shows that in his day the communion cup was wont to bear a representation of the Good Shepherd. Clement of Alexandria (Paedag. iii. 11) mentions the dove, fish, ship, lyre, anchor, as suitable devices for Christian signet rings. Origen (c. Celsum, bk. 3) repudiates graven images as only fit for demons.

As for the attitude towards religious images taken by the early Christian Church, several questions have often been treated as one that should be carefully distinguished. It's clear that early Christians were united in condemning pagan image-worship and the various, sometimes immoral, practices associated with it. A form of idolatry particularly criticized in the New Testament was the widespread veneration of images of the reigning emperors (see Rev. xv. 2). It's also fairly certain that, if for no other reasons than the Judaism, obscurity, and poverty of the early converts to Christianity, the artwork displayed in their meeting places was likely not abundant at first. Along with these factors, the church’s sacramental use of Christ’s name as a powerful name, its deep sense of his ongoing real, though unseen, presence, and its constant expectation of his imminent return during those early years would also contribute to the exclusion of visible aids to devotion. It was a common accusation against Jews and Christians that they had “no altars, no temples, no known images” (Min. Fel. Oct. c. 10), that “they set up no image or form of any god” (see Arnob. Adv. Gent. vi. I; similarly Celsus); and this charge was never denied; on the contrary, Origen took pride in it (c. Celsum, bk. 7, p. 386). Indeed, at a comparatively early date, we read of various Gnostic sects incorporating fine arts into their worship; thus Irenaeus (Haer. i. 25. 6), speaking of Marcellina's followers, states that “they possess images, some painted and others made from different materials; they claim that a likeness of Christ was created by Pilate at the time when Jesus lived among people. They crown these images and display them alongside images of the world's philosophers; namely, the images of Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle, and others. They also have other ways of honoring these images similar to how the Gentiles do” (cf. Aug. De Haer. c. 7). It is also well-known that Emperor Alexander Severus included several biblical characters and even Christ in his household shrine (Lamprid. Vit. Alex. Sev. c. 29). However, there is no evidence that such use of images reached orthodox Christian circles during that time. The first clear indication of the public use of visual art for specific religious purposes appears in CE 306, when the synod of Elvira in Spain decreed (can. 36) that “pictures ought not to be in a church, lest that which is worshipped and adored be painted on walls.” 1 This canon indicates that the practice of using sacred pictures in public worship was not unknown in the church in Spain at the beginning of the 4th century; and it can be presumed that in other places, around the same time, the custom was viewed with greater tolerance. There are some indications of related forms of sacred Christian art existing before this period. It seems possible to trace some of the older and better frescos in the catacombs to a very early age; and Bible manuscripts were often richly illuminated and illustrated even before the middle of the 4th century. A frequently referenced passage from Tertullian (De Pudic. c. 10, cf. c. 7) shows that in his time, the communion cup typically featured an image of the Good Shepherd. Clement of Alexandria (Paedag. iii. 11) mentions the dove, fish, ship, lyre, and anchor as suitable symbols for Christian signet rings. Origen (c. Celsum, bk. 3) dismisses carved images as only appropriate for demons.

During the 4th and following centuries the tendency to enlist the fine arts in the service of the church steadily advanced; not, however, so far as appears, with the formal sanction of any regular ecclesiastical authority, and certainly not without strong protests raised by more than one powerful voice. From a passage in the writings of Gregory of Nyssa (Orat. de Laudibus Theodori Martyris, c. 2) it is easy to see how the stories of recent martyrs would offer themselves as tempting subjects for the painter, and at the same time be considered to have received from him their best and most permanent expression; that this feeling was widespread is shown in many places by Paulinus of Nola (ob. 431), from whom we gather that not only martyrdoms and Bible histories, but also symbols of the Trinity were in his day freely represented pictorially. Augustine (De Cons. Ev. i. 10) speaks less approvingly of those who look for Christ and his apostles “on painted walls” rather than in his written word. How far the Christian feeling of the 4th and 5th centuries was from being settled in favour of the employment of the fine arts is shown by such a case as that of Eusebius of Caesarea, who, in reply to a request of Constantia, sister of Constantine, for a picture of Christ, wrote that it was unlawful to possess images pretending to represent the Saviour either in his divine or in his human nature, and added that to avoid the reproach of idolatry he had actually taken away from a lady friend the pictures of Paul and of Christ which she had.2 Similarly Epiphanius in a letter to John, bishop of Jerusalem, tells how in a church at Anablatha near Bethel he had found a curtain painted with the image “of Christ or of some other saint,” which he had torn down and ordered to be used for the burial of a pauper. The passage, however, reveals not only what Epiphanius thought on the subject, but also that such pictures must have been becoming frequent. Nilus, the disciple and defender of Chrysostom, permitted the symbol of the cross in churches and also pictorial delineations of Old and New Testament history, but deprecated other symbols, pictures of martyrs, and most of all the representation of Christ. In the time of Gregory the Great the Western Church obtained 273 something like an authoritative declaration on the question about images, but in a sense not quite the same as that of the synod of Elvira. Serenus of Marseilles had ordered the destruction of all sacred images within his diocese; this action called forth several letters from Pope Gregory (viii. 2. III; ix. 4. 11), in which he disapproved of that course, and, drawing the distinction which has since been authoritative for the Roman Church, pointed out that—

During the 4th century and onward, the trend of using fine arts to support the church steadily grew; however, this was not officially approved by any established church authority, and there were certainly significant objections raised by more than one influential figure. A passage in the writings of Gregory of Nyssa (Orat. de Laudibus Theodori Martyris, c. 2) clearly shows how the stories of recent martyrs would naturally appeal to painters and would be regarded as having received their best and most lasting expression from them. This sentiment was widely shared, as indicated in various writings by Paulinus of Nola (ob. 431), where we learn that not only martyrdoms and Bible stories but also symbols of the Trinity were commonly illustrated in his time. Augustine (De Cons. Ev. i. 10) was less approving of those who sought to find Christ and his apostles “on painted walls” instead of in the written word. The uncertainty surrounding the Christian attitude towards the use of fine arts in the 4th and 5th centuries is illustrated by the case of Eusebius of Caesarea, who responded to a request from Constantia, sister of Constantine, for a picture of Christ, stating that it was unlawful to own images claiming to represent the Savior in either his divine or human form. He added that, to avoid accusations of idolatry, he had taken away pictures of Paul and Christ from a female friend. Similarly, Epiphanius, in a letter to John, bishop of Jerusalem, recounted how he found a curtain with the image “of Christ or some other saint” in a church at Anablatha near Bethel, which he tore down and ordered to be used for burying a poor person. This passage not only reveals Epiphanius's views on the matter but also suggests that such images were becoming increasingly common. Nilus, a disciple and defender of Chrysostom, allowed the symbol of the cross in churches and illustrations of Old and New Testament stories, but he was against other symbols, pictures of martyrs, and especially representations of Christ. During Gregory the Great's time, the Western Church received something like an official statement on the issue of images, although it differed somewhat from the stance taken by the synod of Elvira. Serenus of Marseilles had ordered the destruction of all sacred images in his diocese; this action prompted several letters from Pope Gregory (viii. 2. III; ix. 4. 11), in which he expressed disapproval of that decision and, making a distinction that has since been authoritative for the Roman Church, noted that—

“It is one thing to worship a picture and another to learn from the language of a picture what that is which ought to be worshipped. What those who can read learn by means of writing, that do the uneducated learn by looking at a picture.... That, therefore, ought not to have been destroyed which had been placed in the churches, not for worship, but solely for instructing the minds of the ignorant.”

“It’s one thing to worship an image and another to understand from that image what should actually be worshipped. What those who can read learn from writing, the uneducated learn by looking at a picture.... Therefore, what was placed in the churches should not have been destroyed, not for worship, but solely to educate the minds of the ignorant.”

With regard to the symbol of the cross, its public use dates from the time of Constantine, though, according to many Christian archaeologists it had, prior to that date, a very important place in the so-called “disciplina arcani.” The introduction of the crucifix was later; originally the favourite combination was that of the figure of a lamb lying at the foot of the cross; the council of Constantinople, called “in Trullo,” in 692 enjoined that this symbol should be discontinued, and that where Christ was shown in connexion with his cross he should be represented in his human nature. In the catacombs Christ is never represented hanging on the cross, and the cross itself is only portrayed in a veiled and hesitating manner. In the Egyptian churches the cross was a pagan symbol of life borrowed by the Christians and interpreted in the pagan manner. The cross of the early Christian emperors was a labarum or token of victory in war, a standard for use in battle. Religious feeling in the West recoiled from the crucifix as late as the 6th century, and it was equally abhorrent to the Monophysites of the East who regarded the human nature of Christ as swallowed up in the divine. Nevertheless it seems to have originated in the East, perhaps as a protest against the extreme Monophysites, who even denied the passibility of Christ. Perhaps the Nestorians, who clung to the human aspect of Christ, introduced it about 550. From the East it soon passed to the West.

Regarding the symbol of the cross, its public use started during the time of Constantine, although, according to many Christian archaeologists, it held significant importance in the "discipline of the secret" before that time. The introduction of the crucifix came later; initially, the preferred image was of a lamb lying at the foot of the cross. The council of Constantinople, known as “in Trullo,” in 692 decreed that this symbol should be discarded and that when Christ was depicted with his cross, he should be shown in his human form. In the catacombs, Christ is never depicted hanging on the cross, and the cross itself is only represented in a subtle and hesitant way. In the Egyptian churches, the cross was a pagan symbol of life adopted by Christians and interpreted in a pagan context. The cross of the early Christian emperors was a labarum or a sign of victory in battle, a standard used in warfare. Religious sentiment in the West shunned the crucifix even as late as the 6th century, and it was equally repulsive to the Monophysites in the East, who believed Christ's human nature was absorbed by the divine. Nevertheless, it appears to have originated in the East, possibly as a response to the extreme Monophysites, who even denied Christ's ability to suffer. Perhaps the Nestorians, who emphasized Christ's human side, introduced it around 550. It quickly spread from the East to the West.

Not until the 8th century were the religious and theological questions which connect themselves with image-worship distinctly raised in the Eastern Church in their entirety. The controversy began with an address which Leo the Isaurian, in the tenth year of his reign (726), delivered in public “in favour of overthrowing the holy and venerable images,” as says Theophanes (Chronogr., in Migne Patr. Gr. 108, 816). This emperor had, in the years 717 and 718, hurled back the tide of Arab conquest which threatened to engulf Byzantium, and had also shown himself an able statesman and legislator. Born at Germanicia in Syria, and, before he mounted the throne, captain-general of the Anatolian theme, he had come under the influence of the anti-idolatrous sects, such as the Jews, Montanists, Paulicians and Manicheans, which abounded in Asia Minor, but of which he was otherwise no friend. But his religious reform was unpopular, especially among the women, who killed an official who, by the emperor’s command, was destroying an image of Christ in the vestibule of the imperial palace of Chalcé. This émeute provoked severe reprisals, and the partisans of the images were mutilated and killed, or beaten and exiled. A rival emperor even, Agallianus, was set up, who perished in his attempt to seize Constantinople. Italy also rose in arms, and Pope Gregory II. wrote to Leo blaming his interference in religious matters, though he dissuaded the rebels in Venetia, the Exarchate and the Pentapolis from electing a new emperor and marching against Leo. In 730 Germanus the patriarch resigned rather than subscribe to a decree condemning images; later he was strangled, in exile and replaced by an iconoclast, Anastasius. Meanwhile, inside the Arab empire, John of Damascus wrote his three dogmatic discourses against the traducers of images, arguing that their use was not idolatry but only a relative worship (προσκύνησις σχετική). The next pope, Gregory III. convoked a council of ninety-three bishops, which excommunicated the iconoclasts, and the fleet which Leo sent to retaliate on the Latin peninsula was lost in a storm in the Adriatic. The most Leo was able to do was to double the tribute of Calabria and Sicily, confiscate the pope’s revenues there, and impose on the bishops of south Italy a servitude to Byzantium which lasted for centuries.

Not until the 8th century were the religious and theological issues related to image-worship clearly addressed in the Eastern Church. The controversy started with a speech made by Leo the Isaurian during the tenth year of his reign (726), where he publicly advocated for the destruction of “holy and venerable images,” as noted by Theophanes (Chronogr., in Migne Patr. Gr. 108, 816). This emperor had, in the years 717 and 718, successfully halted the Arab conquest that threatened to overwhelm Byzantium, proving himself to be a capable statesman and legislator. Born in Germanicia, Syria, and serving as the captain-general of the Anatolian theme before ascending to the throne, he had been influenced by the anti-idolatrous groups, like the Jews, Montanists, Paulicians, and Manicheans, that were prevalent in Asia Minor, although he wasn’t a supporter of them. His religious reforms, however, were unpopular, especially with women, resulting in the murder of an official who, under the emperor's orders, was destroying an image of Christ at the entrance of the imperial palace of Chalcé. This uprising led to harsh reprisals, with supporters of the images being mutilated, killed, beaten, or exiled. A rival emperor, Agallianus, was even installed but ended up dying while trying to seize Constantinople. Italy also revolted, and Pope Gregory II wrote to Leo criticizing his involvement in religious matters, even though he deterred the rebels in Venetia, the Exarchate, and the Pentapolis from electing a new emperor and marching against Leo. In 730, Germanus the patriarch resigned instead of agreeing to a decree that condemned images; he was later strangled in exile and replaced by an iconoclast, Anastasius. Meanwhile, within the Arab empire, John of Damascus wrote three theological discourses against the detractors of images, arguing that their use was not idolatry but rather a form of relative worship (related worship). The next pope, Gregory III, convened a council of ninety-three bishops, which excommunicated the iconoclasts, and Leo's fleet sent to retaliate against the Latin peninsula was lost in a storm in the Adriatic. The most Leo could achieve was to double the tribute from Calabria and Sicily, seize the pope’s revenues there, and impose upon the bishops of southern Italy a servitude to Byzantium that lasted for centuries.

Leo III. died in June 740, and then his son Constantine V. began a persecution of the image-worshippers in real earnest. In his eagerness to restore the simplicity of the primitive church he even assailed Mariolatry, intercession of saints, relics and perhaps infant baptism, to the scandal even of the iconoclast bishops themselves. His reign began with the seizure for eighteen months of Constantinople by his brother-in-law Artavasdes, who temporarily restored the images. He was captured and beheaded with his accomplices in November 742, and in February 754 Constantine held in the palace of Hieria a council of 388 bishops, mostly of the East; the patriarchs of Rome, Antioch, Alexandria and Jerusalem refused to attend. In it images were condemned, but the other equally conservative leanings of the emperor found no favour. The chief upholders of images, the patriarch Germanus, George of Cyprus and John of Damascus, were anathematized, and Christians forbidden to adore or make images or even to hide them. These decrees were obstinately resisted, especially by the monks, large numbers of whom fled to Italy. In 765 the emperor demanded of his subjects all over his empire an oath on the cross that they detested images, and St Stephen the younger, the chief upholder of them, was murdered in the streets. A regular crusade now began against monks and nuns, and images and relics were destroyed on a great scale. In parts of Asia Minor (Lydia and Caria) the monks were even forced to marry the nuns. In 769 Pope Stephen III. condemned the council of Hieria, and in 775 Constantine V. died. His son Leo IV. died in 780, leaving a widow, Irene, of Athenian birth, who seized the opportunity presented by the minority of her ten-year-old son Constantine VI. to restore the images and dispersed relics. In 784 she invited Pope Adrian I. to come and preside over a fresh council, which was to reverse that of 754 and heal the schism with Rome. In August 786 the council met, but was broken up by the imperial guards, who were Easterns and sturdy iconoclasts. Irene replaced them by a more trustworthy force, and convoked a fresh council of three hundred bishops and monks innumerable in September 787, at Nicaea in the church of St Sophia. The cult of images was now solemnly restored, iconoclast bishops deposed or reconciled, the dogmatic theory of images defined, and church discipline re-established. The order thus imposed lasted twenty-four years, until a military revolution placed a soldier of fortune, half Armenian, half Persian, named Leo, on the throne; he, like his soldiers, was persuaded that the ill-success of the Roman arms against Bulgarians and other invaders was due to the idolatry rampant at court and elsewhere. The soldiers stoned the image of Christ which Irene had set up afresh in the palace of Chalcé, and this provoked a counter-demonstration of the clergy. Leo feigned for a while to be on their side, but on the 2nd of February 815, in the sanctuary of St Sophia, publicly refused to prostrate himself before the images, with the approbation of the army and of many bishops who were iconoclasts at heart. Irene’s patriarch Nicephorus was now deposed and one Theodotus, a kinsman of Constantine Copronymus, consecrated in his place on the 1st of April 815. A fresh council was soon convoked, which cursed Irene and re-enacted the decrees of 754. This reaction lasted only for a generation under Leo the Armenian, who died 820, Michael II. 820-829, and Theophilus 829-842; and was frustrated mainly by the exertions of Theodore of Studion and his monks, called the Studitae. Theodore refused to attend or recognize the new council, and was banished first to Bithynia and thence to Smyrna, whence he continued to address his appeals to the pope, to the eastern patriarchs and to his dispersed monks. He died in 826. Theophilus, the last of the iconoclast emperors, was a devoted Mariolater and controversialist who invited the monks to discuss the question of images with him, and whipped or branded them when he was out-argued; he at length banished them from the cities, and 274 branded on the hands a painter of holy pictures, Lazarus by name, who declined to secularize his art; he also raised to the patriarchal throne John Hylilas, chief instigator of the reaction of 815. In 842 Theophilus died, leaving his wife Theodora regent; she was, like Irene, addicted to images, and chose as patriarch a monk, Methodius, whom the emperor Michael had imprisoned for laying before him Pope Paschal I.’s letter of protest. John Hylilas was deposed and flogged in turn. A fresh council was now held which re-enacted the decrees of 787, and on the 20th of February 842 the new patriarch, the empress, clergy and court dignitaries assisted in the church of St Sophia at a solemn restoration of images which lasted until the advent of the Turks. The struggle had gone on for 116 years.

Leo III died in June 740, and his son Constantine V began a serious persecution of image-worshippers. In his desire to bring back the simplicity of the early church, he even attacked Mariolatry, the intercession of saints, relics, and possibly even infant baptism, shocking even the iconoclast bishops. His reign started with his brother-in-law Artavasdes seizing Constantinople for eighteen months, during which he temporarily restored the images. Artavasdes was captured and beheaded with his accomplices in November 742, and in February 754, Constantine held a council of 388 bishops, mostly from the East, at the palace of Hieria; the patriarchs of Rome, Antioch, Alexandria, and Jerusalem refused to attend. The council condemned images, but the emperor's other conservative views were not well-received. Key supporters of images, like Patriarch Germanus, George of Cyprus, and John of Damascus, were anathematized, and Christians were forbidden to worship or create images or even to hide them. These decrees were fiercely resisted, especially by monks, many of whom fled to Italy. In 765, the emperor demanded all his subjects across the empire to swear on the cross that they hated images, and St. Stephen the Younger, a leading supporter of images, was murdered in the streets. A full-scale campaign against monks and nuns began, and many images and relics were destroyed. In parts of Asia Minor (Lydia and Caria), monks were even forced to marry nuns. In 769, Pope Stephen III condemned the council of Hieria, and in 775, Constantine V died. His son Leo IV died in 780, leaving a widow, Irene, from Athens, who seized the chance offered by her ten-year-old son Constantine VI's minority to restore the images and redistribute relics. In 784, she invited Pope Adrian I to come and lead a new council, aiming to reverse the decisions of 754 and heal the rift with Rome. The council met in August 786 but was disrupted by the imperial guards, who were Easterners and staunch iconoclasts. Irene replaced them with a more reliable force and called a fresh council of three hundred bishops and numerous monks in September 787 at Nicaea in the Church of St. Sophia. The worship of images was officially restored, iconoclast bishops were either deposed or reconciled, the theological basis for images was defined, and church discipline was re-established. This order lasted twenty-four years until a military coup brought a soldier of fortune named Leo, who was half Armenian and half Persian, to the throne. He believed that the Roman army's failures against the Bulgarians and other invaders were due to the idol worship prevalent at court and elsewhere. The soldiers stoned the image of Christ that Irene had recently erected in the palace of Chalcé, prompting a counter-demonstration by the clergy. Leo pretended to side with the clergy at first, but on February 2, 815, in the sanctuary of St. Sophia, he publicly refused to bow before the images, gaining the approval of the army and many bishops who secretly opposed them. Irene’s patriarch Nicephorus was deposed, and Theodotus, a relative of Constantine Copronymus, was appointed on April 1, 815. A new council was soon convened, which cursed Irene and reinstated the decrees of 754. This reaction lasted only a generation under Leo the Armenian (who died in 820), Michael II (820-829), and Theophilus (829-842), and was mainly resisted by the efforts of Theodore of Studion and his monks, known as the Studitae. Theodore refused to attend or acknowledge the new council and was exiled first to Bithynia and then to Smyrna, from where he continued to appeal to the pope, the eastern patriarchs, and his scattered monks. He died in 826. Theophilus, the last of the iconoclast emperors, was a devoted supporter of Mary and a controversialist who invited monks to debate the issue of images with him and whipped or branded them when he lost arguments; he ultimately banished them from cities and branded a painter of holy pictures named Lazarus, who refused to secularize his art. He also elevated John Hylilas, the main instigator of the 815 reaction, to the patriarchal throne. In 842, Theophilus died, leaving his wife Theodora as regent; like Irene, she was devoted to images and chose a monk named Methodius as patriarch, who had been imprisoned by the emperor Michael for presenting Pope Paschal I’s letter of protest. John Hylilas was also deposed and flogged in turn. A new council was held, which reaffirmed the decrees of 787, and on February 20, 842, the new patriarch, the empress, the clergy, and court officials participated in a solemn restoration of images in the Church of St. Sophia, which lasted until the Turks arrived. The struggle lasted for 116 years.

The iconoclastic movement is perhaps the most dramatic episode in Byzantine history, and the above outline of its external events must be completed by an appreciation of its deeper historical and religious significance and results. We can distinguish three parties among the combatants:—

The iconoclastic movement is probably the most dramatic chapter in Byzantine history, and the outline of its external events needs to be supplemented by an understanding of its deeper historical and religious significance and outcomes. We can identify three groups among the participants:—

1. The partisans of image worship. These were chiefly found in the Hellenic portions of the empire, where Greek art had once held sway. The monks were the chief champions of images, because they were illuminators and artists. Their doctors taught that the same grace of the Holy Spirit which imbued the living saint attaches after death to his relics, name, image and picture. The latter are thus no mere representations, but as it were emanations from the archetype, vehicles of the supernatural personality represented, and possessed of an inherent sacramental value and power, such as the name of Jesus had for the earliest believers. Here Christian image-worship borders on the beliefs which underlie sympathetic magic (see Image Worship).

1. The supporters of image worship were primarily found in the Greek regions of the empire, where Greek art had once been prominent. The monks were the main defenders of images, as they were both illuminators and artists. Their scholars taught that the same grace of the Holy Spirit that filled a living saint also attaches to their relics, name, image, and picture after death. These are not just representations; they are seen as emanations from the original source, serving as vehicles of the supernatural personality represented, and possess an inherent sacramental value and power, similar to what the name of Jesus meant for the earliest believers. Here, Christian image-worship touches on beliefs that are akin to those found in sympathetic magic (see Image Worship).

2. The iconoclasts proper, who not only condemned image worship in the sense just explained but rejected all religious art whatever. Fleeting matter to their mind was not worthy to embody or reflect heavenly supersensuous energies denoted by the names of Christ and the saints. For the same reason they rejected relics and, as a rule, the worship of the cross. Statues of Christ, especially of him hanging on the cross, inspired the greatest horror and indignation; and this is why none of the graven images of Christ, common before the outbreak of the movement, survive. More than this—although the synod of 692 specially allowed the crucifix, yet Greek churches have discarded it ever since the 8th century.

2. The true iconoclasts not only condemned the worship of images as explained earlier but also rejected all forms of religious art. They believed that temporary matter was not worthy of representing or reflecting the divine, represented by Christ and the saints. For the same reason, they also rejected relics and generally opposed the veneration of the cross. Statues of Christ, especially those depicting him on the cross, evoked feelings of great horror and outrage; this explains why none of the representations of Christ that were common before the movement began have survived. Furthermore, even though the synod of 692 specifically permitted the crucifix, Greek churches have abandoned it since the 8th century.

This idea that material representation involves a profanation of divine personages, while disallowing all religious art which goes beyond scroll-work, spirals, flourishes and geometrical designs, yet admits to the full of secular art; and accordingly the iconoclastic emperors replaced the holy pictures in churches with frescoes of hunting scenes, and covered their palaces with garden scenes where men were plucking fruit and birds singing amid the foliage. Contemporary Mahommedans did the same, for it is an error to suppose that this religion was from the first hostile to profane art. At one time the mosques were covered with mosaics, analogous to those of Ravenna, depicting scenes from the life of Mahomet and the prophets. The Arabs only forbade plastic art in the 9th century, nor were their essentially Semitic scruples ever shared by the Persians.

This idea that material representation is a disrespect to divine figures while rejecting all religious art that goes beyond basic patterns, spirals, flourishes, and geometric designs, but fully accepting secular art; as a result, the iconoclastic emperors replaced holy images in churches with frescoes of hunting scenes and decorated their palaces with garden scenes where men were picking fruit and birds were singing among the leaves. Contemporary Muslims did the same, as it's a misconception to think that this religion was initially opposed to secular art. At one point, mosques were adorned with mosaics similar to those in Ravenna, depicting scenes from the life of Muhammad and the prophets. The Arabs only prohibited plastic art in the 9th century, and their fundamentally Semitic reservations were not shared by the Persians.

The prejudice we are considering is closely connected with the Manichaean view of matter, which in strict consistency rejected the belief that God was really made flesh, or really died on the cross. The Manichaeans were therefore, by reason of their dualism, arch-enemies no less of Christian art than of relics and cross-worship; the Monophysites were equally so by reason of their belief that the divine nature in Christ entirely absorbed and sublated the human; they shaded off into the party of the aphthartodoketes, who held that his human body was incorruptible and made of ethereal fire, and that his divine nature was impassible. Their belief made them, like the Manichaeans, hostile to material portraiture of Christ, especially of his sufferings on the cross. All these nearly allied schools of Christian thought could, moreover, address, as against the image-worshippers, a very effective appeal to the Bible and to Christian antiquity. Now Egypt, Asia Minor, Armenia, western Syria and the Hauran were almost wholly given up to these forms of opinion. Accordingly in all the remains of the Christian art of the Hauran one seeks in vain for any delineation of human face or figure. The art of these countries is mainly geometrical, and allows only of monograms crowned with laurels, of peacocks, of animals gambolling amid foliage, of fruit and flowers, of crosses which are either svastikas of Hindu and Mycenaean type, or so lost in enveloping arabesques as to be merely decorative. Such was the only religious art permitted by the Christian sentiment of these countries, and also of the large enclaves of semi-Manichaean belief formed in the Balkans by the transportation thither of Armenians and Paulicians. And it is important to remark that the protagonists of iconoclasm in Byzantium came from these lands where image cult offended the deepest religious instincts of the masses. Leo the Isaurian had all the scruples of a Paulician, even to the rejection of the cult of Virgin and saints; Constantine V. was openly such. Michael Balbus was reared in Phrygia among Montanists. The soldiers and captains of the Byzantine garrisons were equally Armenians and Syrians, in whom the sight of a crucifix or image set up for worship inspired nothing but horror.

The prejudice we’re looking at is closely linked to the Manichaean view of matter, which consistently denied that God could truly become flesh or actually die on the cross. Because of their dualism, the Manichaeans were arch-enemies of Christian art, as well as relics and cross-worship; the Monophysites were similarly opposed because they believed that the divine nature in Christ completely absorbed and replaced the human. They merged into the group of the aphthartodoketes, who believed his human body was incorruptible and made of ethereal fire, and that his divine nature was impassible. Their beliefs made them, like the Manichaeans, hostile to any material representation of Christ, especially depicting his sufferings on the cross. All these closely related schools of Christian thought could effectively argue against image worshippers by appealing to the Bible and Christian traditions. In contrast, Egypt, Asia Minor, Armenia, western Syria, and the Hauran were largely dominated by these views. Consequently, in all the remaining Christian art from the Hauran, one looks in vain for any representation of human faces or figures. The art from these regions is primarily geometric, featuring only monograms crowned with laurel, peacocks, animals playing among foliage, fruits and flowers, as well as crosses that are either svastikas of Hindu and Mycenaean style or so entwined in flowing arabesques that they appear purely decorative. This was the only type of religious art allowed by the Christian sentiment in these areas, as well as in the significant enclaves of semi-Manichaean beliefs established in the Balkans by the movement of Armenians and Paulicians there. It's noteworthy that the leaders of iconoclasm in Byzantium originated from these regions, where image worship clashed with the profound religious instincts of the people. Leo the Isaurian had all the reservations of a Paulician, including rejecting the veneration of the Virgin and saints; Constantine V. openly shared these views. Michael Balbus was raised in Phrygia among Montanists. The soldiers and commanders of the Byzantine garrisons were predominantly Armenians and Syrians, who were horrified by the sight of a crucifix or images set up for worship.

The issue of the struggle was not a complete victory even in Byzantium for the partisans of image-worship. The Iconoclasts left an indelible impress on the Christian art of the Greek Church, in so far as they put an end to the use of graven images; for the Eastern icon is a flat picture, less easily regarded than would be a statue as a nidus within which a spirit can lurk. Half the realm of creative art, that of statuary, was thus suppressed at a blow; and the other half, painting, forfeited all the grace and freedom, all the capacity of new themes, forms and colours, all the development which we see in the Latin Church. The Greeks have produced no Giotto, no Fra Angelico, no Raphael. Their artists have no choice of subjects and no initiative. Colour, dress, attitude, grouping of figures are all dictated by traditional rules, set out in regular manuals. God the Father may not be depicted at all—a restriction intelligible when we remember that the image in theory is fraught with the virtue of the archetype; but everywhere the utmost timidity is shown. What else could an artist do but make a slavish and exact copy of old pictures which worked miracles and perhaps had the reputation as well of having fallen from heaven?

The struggle wasn't a complete win for the supporters of image-worship, even in Byzantium. The Iconoclasts left a lasting mark on the Christian art of the Greek Church by ending the use of carved images. The Eastern icon is a flat picture, which is harder to perceive as a vessel for a spirit compared to a statue. This suppression hit half of creative art—sculpture—hard, while painting lost all its grace and freedom, along with the ability to explore new themes, forms, and colors, unlike what we see in the Latin Church. The Greeks have never produced a Giotto, Fra Angelico, or Raphael. Their artists lack subject choices and initiative. Color, clothing, poses, and figure arrangements are all dictated by traditional rules laid out in standard manuals. God the Father can't be depicted at all—a restriction that makes sense considering that, in theory, images carry the virtue of the archetype. But artists everywhere show extreme timidity. What else could they do but create slavish and precise copies of old pictures that had worked miracles and were perhaps believed to have come from heaven?

3. Between these extreme parties the Roman Church took the middle way of common sense. The hair-splitting distinction of the Byzantine doctors between veneration due to images (προσκύνησις τιμητική), and the adoration (προσκύνησις λατρευτική) due to God alone, was dropped, and the utility of pictures for the illiterate emphasized. Their use was declared to be this, that they taught the ignorant through the eye what they should adore with the mind; they are not themselves to be adored. Such was Gregory the Great’s teaching, and such also is the purport of the Caroline books, which embody the conclusions arrived at by the bishops of Germany, Gaul and Aquitaine, presided over by papal legates at the council of Frankfort in 794, and incidentally also reveal the hatred and contempt of Charlemagne for the Byzantine empire as an institution, and for Irene, its ruler, as a person. The theologians whom Louis the Pious convened at Paris in 825, to answer the letter received from the iconoclast emperor Michael Balbus, were as hostile to the orthodox Greeks as to the image-worshippers, and did not scruple to censure Pope Adrian for having approved of the empress Irene’s attitude. The council of Trent decided afresh in the same sense.

3. Between these two extreme parties, the Roman Church chose a middle ground based on common sense. The fine distinction made by the Byzantine theologians between the veneration given to images (honorary worship) and the adoration (worship service) reserved for God alone was set aside, highlighting the usefulness of images for those who were illiterate. It was stated that their purpose was to visually teach the ignorant what they should mentally adore; the images themselves were not to be adored. This was the teaching of Gregory the Great, and it is also reflected in the Caroline books, which capture the conclusions reached by the bishops of Germany, Gaul, and Aquitaine, presided over by papal legates at the council of Frankfort in 794. It also incidentally reveals Charlemagne's disdain and contempt for the Byzantine Empire as an institution and for Irene, its ruler, as a person. The theologians that Louis the Pious gathered in Paris in 825 to respond to a letter from the iconoclast emperor Michael Balbus were as antagonistic toward the orthodox Greeks as they were toward the image-worshippers, and did not hesitate to criticize Pope Adrian for supporting Empress Irene’s stance. The council of Trent reaffirmed this same position.

Two incidental results of the iconoclastic movement must be noticed, the one of less, the other of more importance. The lesser one was the flight of Greek iconolatrous monks from Asia Minor and the Levant to Sicily and Calabria, where they established convents which for centuries were the western homes of Greek learning, and in which were written not a few of the oldest Greek MSS. found in our libraries. The greater event 275 was the scission between East and West. The fury of the West against the iconoclastic emperors was such that the whole of Italy clamoured for war. It is true that Pope Stephen II. applied in 753 to Constantine V., one of the worst destroyers of images, for aid against the Lombards, for the emperor of Byzantium was still regarded as the natural champion of the church. But Constantine refused aid, and the pope turned to the Frankish King Pippin. The die was cast. Henceforth Rome was linked with the Carolingian house in an alliance which culminated in the coronation of Charlemagne by the pope on the 25th of December 800.

Two important outcomes of the iconoclastic movement should be noted, one being less significant and the other more significant. The lesser outcome was the escape of Greek monks who worshiped icons from Asia Minor and the Levant to Sicily and Calabria, where they set up convents that became centers of Greek learning in the West for centuries, and where many of the oldest Greek manuscripts found in our libraries were written. The more significant event was the split between East and West. The anger in the West toward the iconoclastic emperors was so intense that the entire region of Italy demanded war. It's true that Pope Stephen II reached out in 753 to Constantine V., one of the most notorious destroyers of images, for help against the Lombards, as the emperor of Byzantium was still seen as the natural defender of the church. But Constantine refused to help, and the pope then turned to the Frankish King Pippin. The decision was made. From that point on, Rome was connected with the Carolingian dynasty in a partnership that led to the coronation of Charlemagne by the pope on December 25, 800.

In the crusading epoch the Cathars and Paulicians carried all over Europe the old iconoclastic spirit, and perhaps helped to transmit it to Wycliffe and Hus. Not the least racy clause in the document compiled about 1389 by the Wycliffites in defence of their defunct teacher is the following: “Hit semes that this offrynge ymages is a sotile cast of Antichriste and his clerkis for to drawe almes fro pore men ... certis, these ymages of hemselfe may do nouther gode nor yvel to mennis soules, but thai myghtten warme a man’s body in colde, if thai were sette upon a fire.”

In the time of the crusades, the Cathars and Paulicians spread the old iconoclastic spirit throughout Europe and possibly helped pass it on to Wycliffe and Hus. One of the most striking phrases in the document put together around 1389 by the Wycliffites in defense of their deceased teacher is this: “It seems that this offering of images is a clever scheme by Antichrist and his clerics to collect donations from poor people... indeed, these images themselves can do nothing good or bad for people's souls, but they might warm a man's body in the cold if they were placed on a fire.”

At the period of the Reformation it was unanimously felt by the reforming party that, with the invocation of saints and the practice of reverencing their relics, the adoration of images ought also to cease. The leaders of the movement were not, however, perfectly agreed on the question as to whether these might not in some circumstances be retained in churches. Luther had no sympathy with the iconoclastic outbreaks which then occurred; he classed images in themselves as among the “adiaphora,” and condemned only their cultus; so also the “Confessio Tetrapolitana” leaves Christians free to have them or not, if only due regard be had to what is expedient and edifying. The “Heidelberg Catechism,” however, emphatically declares that images are not to be tolerated at all in churches.

During the Reformation, everyone in the reforming group agreed that, along with the invocation of saints and the veneration of their relics, the worship of images should also stop. However, the leaders of the movement didn't fully agree on whether these images might be allowed in churches under certain circumstances. Luther did not support the iconoclastic riots that were happening at the time; he considered images to be part of the “adiaphora,” condemning only their worship. The “Confessio Tetrapolitana” also allows Christians the freedom to have images or not, as long as they consider what is suitable and beneficial. On the other hand, the “Heidelberg Catechism” strongly states that images should not be allowed at all in churches.

Sources.—“Acts of the Seventh Ecumenical Council held in Nicaea, 787,” in Mansi’s Concilia, vols. xii. and xiii.; “Acts of the Iconoclast Council of 815,” in a treatise of Nicephorus discovered by M. Serruys and printed in the Séances Acad. des Inscript. (May 1903); Theophanes, Chronographia, edit. de Boor (Leipzig, 1883-1885); and Patr. Gr. vol. 108. Also his “Continuators” in Patr. Gr. vol. 109; Nicephorus, Chronicon, edit. de Boor (Leipzig, 1880), and Patr. Gr. vol. 100; Georgius Monachus, Chronicon, edit. Muralt (Petersburg, 1859), and Patr. Gr. 110; anonymous “Life of Leo the Armenian” in Patr. Gr. 108; The Book of the Kings, by Joseph Genesios, Patr. Gr. 109; “Life of S. Stephanus, Junior,” Patr. Gr. 100; “St John of Damascus,” three “Sermones” against the iconoclasts, Patr. Gr. 95; Nicephorus Patriarch, “Antirrhetici,” Patr. Gr. 100; Theodore Studita, “Antirrhetici,” Patr. Gr. 99. For bibliography of contemporary hymns, letters, &c., bearing on the controversy see K. Krumbacher’s History of Byzantine Literature, 2nd ed. p. 674. Literature: Louis Brehier, La Querelle des images, and Les Origines du crucifix (Paris, 1904); Librairie Blond, in French, each volume 60 centimes (brief but admirable); Karl Schwartzlose, Der Bilderstreit (Gotha, 1890); Karl Schenk, “The Emperor Leo III.,” in Byzant. Zeitschrift (1896, German); Tel. Uspenskij, Skizzen zur Geschichte der byzantinischen Kultur (St Petersburg, 1892, Russian); Lombard, Études d’histoire byzantine; Constantine V.( Paris, 1902, Biblioth. de l’université de Paris, xvi.); A. Tougard, La Persécution iconoclaste (Paris, 1897); and Rev. des questions historiques (1891); Marin, Les Moines de Constantinople (Paris, 1897, bk. iv. Les Moines et les empereurs iconoclastes); Alice Gardner, Theodore of Studium (London, 1905); Louis Maimbourg, Histoire de l’hérésie des iconoclastes (Paris, 1679-1683); J. Daillé (Dallaeus), De imaginibus (Leiden, 1642, and in French, Geneva, 1641); Spanheim, Historia imaginum (Leiden, 1686). See also the account of this epoch in the Histories of Neander, Gibbon and Milman; Aug. Fr. Gfrörer, “Der Bildersturm” in Byzantinische Geschichte 2 (1873); C. J. von Hefele, Conciliengeschichte 3 (1877), 366 ff. (also in English translation; Karl Krumbacher. Byzant. Literaturgeschichte (2nd ed. p. 1090).

References.—“Acts of the Seventh Ecumenical Council held in Nicaea, 787,” in Mansi’s Concilia, vols. xii. and xiii.; “Acts of the Iconoclast Council of 815,” in a treatise of Nicephorus discovered by M. Serruys and printed in the Séances Acad. des Inscript. (May 1903); Theophanes, Chronographia, edit. de Boor (Leipzig, 1883-1885); and Patr. Gr. vol. 108. Also his “Continuators” in Patr. Gr. vol. 109; Nicephorus, Chronicon, edit. de Boor (Leipzig, 1880), and Patr. Gr. vol. 100; Georgius Monachus, Chronicon, edit. Muralt (Petersburg, 1859), and Patr. Gr. 110; anonymous “Life of Leo the Armenian” in Patr. Gr. 108; The Book of the Kings, by Joseph Genesios, Patr. Gr. 109; “Life of S. Stephanus, Junior,” Patr. Gr. 100; “St John of Damascus,” three “Sermones” against the iconoclasts, Patr. Gr. 95; Nicephorus Patriarch, “Antirrhetici,” Patr. Gr. 100; Theodore Studita, “Antirrhetici,” Patr. Gr. 99. For a bibliography of contemporary hymns, letters, etc., related to the controversy see K. Krumbacher’s History of Byzantine Literature, 2nd ed. p. 674. Literature: Louis Brehier, La Querelle des images, and Les Origines du crucifix (Paris, 1904); Librairie Blond, in French, each volume 60 centimes (brief but excellent); Karl Schwartzlose, Der Bilderstreit (Gotha, 1890); Karl Schenk, “The Emperor Leo III.,” in Byzant. Zeitschrift (1896, German); Tel. Uspenskij, Skizzen zur Geschichte der byzantinischen Kultur (St Petersburg, 1892, Russian); Lombard, Études d’histoire byzantine; Constantine V.( Paris, 1902, Biblioth. de l’université de Paris, xvi.); A. Tougard, La Persécution iconoclaste (Paris, 1897); and Rev. des questions historiques (1891); Marin, Les Moines de Constantinople (Paris, 1897, bk. iv. Les Moines et les empereurs iconoclastes); Alice Gardner, Theodore of Studium (London, 1905); Louis Maimbourg, Histoire de l’hérésie des iconoclastes (Paris, 1679-1683); J. Daillé (Dallaeus), De imaginibus (Leiden, 1642, and in French, Geneva, 1641); Spanheim, Historia imaginum (Leiden, 1686). See also the account of this period in the Histories of Neander, Gibbon and Milman; Aug. Fr. Gfrörer, “Der Bildersturm” in Byzantinische Geschichte 2 (1873); C. J. von Hefele, Conciliengeschichte 3 (1877), 366 ff. (also in English translation; Karl Krumbacher. Byzant. Literaturgeschichte (2nd ed. p. 1090).

(F. C. C.)

1 “Placuit picturas in ecclesia esse non debere, ne quod colitur et adoratur in parietibus depingatur.” See Hefele, Conciliengesch. i. 170.

1 “It was decided that there should not be pictures in the church, so that what is worshiped and adored is not depicted on the walls.” See Hefele, Conciliengesch. i. 170.

2 The letter, which is most probably, though not certainly, genuine, appears in the Acta of the second council of Nice.

2 The letter, which is likely, but not definitely, genuine, appears in the Acta of the second council of Nice.


ICONOSTASIS, the screen in a Greek church which divides the altar and sanctuary from the rest of the church. It is generally attached to the first eastern pier or column and rises to the level of the springing of the vault. The iconostasis or image-bearer has generally three doors, one on each side of the central door, beyond which is the principal altar. The screen is subdivided into four or five tiers, each tier decorated with a series of panels containing representations of the saints: of these only the heads, hands and feet are painted, the bodies being covered with embossed metal work, richly gilded. There is a fine example in the Russo-Greek chapel, Welbeck Street, London, which was rebuilt in 1864-1865.

ICONOSTASIS, is the screen in a Greek church that separates the altar and sanctuary from the rest of the church. It is usually attached to the first eastern pier or column and rises to the level of the springing of the vault. The iconostasis, or image-bearer, typically has three doors, one on each side of the central door, leading to the main altar. The screen is divided into four or five tiers, each tier decorated with a series of panels that depict the saints: only the heads, hands, and feet are painted, while the bodies are covered with embossed metalwork that is richly gilded. A fine example can be found in the Russo-Greek chapel on Welbeck Street, London, which was rebuilt in 1864-1865.


ICOSAHEDRON (Gr. εἴκοσι, twenty, and ἕδρα, a face or base), in geometry, a solid enclosed by twenty faces. The “regular icosahedron” is one of the Platonic solids; the “great icosahedron” is a Kepler-Poinsot solid; and the “truncated icosahedron” is an Archimedean solid (see Polyhedron). In crystallography the icosahedron is a possible form, but it has not been observed; it is closely simulated by a combination of the octahedron and pentagonal dodecahedron, which has twenty triangular faces, but only eight are equilateral, the remaining twelve being isosceles (see Crystallography).

ICOSAHEDRON (Gr. twenty, twenty, and seat, a face or base), in geometry, is a solid shape with twenty faces. The “regular icosahedron” is one of the Platonic solids; the “great icosahedron” is a Kepler-Poinsot solid; and the “truncated icosahedron” is an Archimedean solid (see Polyhedron). In crystallography, the icosahedron is a potential form, but it hasn’t been seen; it closely resembles a combination of the octahedron and pentagonal dodecahedron, which has twenty triangular faces, but only eight are equilateral, while the other twelve are isosceles (see Crystallography).


ICTERUS, a bird so called by classical authors, and supposed by Pliny to be the same as the Galgulus, which is generally identified with the golden oriole (Oriolus galbula).1 It signified a bird in the plumage of which yellow or green predominated, and hence Brisson did not take an unhappy liberty when he applied it in a scientific sense to some birds of the New World of which the same could be said. These are now held to constitute a distinct family, Icteridae, intermediate it would seem between the Buntings (q.v.) and Starlings (q.v.); and, while many of them are called troopials (the English equivalent of the French Troupiales, first used by Brisson), others are known as the American Grackles (q.v.). The typical species of Icterus is the Oriolus icterus of Linnaeus, the Icterus vulgaris of Daudin and modern ornithologists, an inhabitant of northern Brazil, Guiana, Venezuela, occasionally visiting some of the Antilles and of the United States. Thirty-three species of the genus Icterus alone, and more than seventy others belonging to upwards of a score of genera, are recognized by Sclater and Salvin (Nomenclator, pp. 35-39) as belonging to the Neotropical Region, though a few of them emigrate to the northward in summer. Cassicus and Ostinops may perhaps be named as the most remarkable. They are nearly all gregarious birds, many of them with loud and in most cases, where they have been observed, with melodious notes, rendering them favourites in captivity, for they readily learn to whistle simple tunes. Some have a plumage wholly black, others are richly clad, as is the well-known Baltimore oriole, golden robin or hangnest of the United States, Icterus baltimore, whose brightly contrasted black and orange have conferred upon it the name it most commonly bears in North America, those colours being, says Catesby (Birds of Carolina, i. 48), the tinctures of the armorial bearings of the Calverts, Lords Baltimore, the original grantees of Maryland, but probably more correctly those of their liveries. The most divergent form of Icteridae seems to be that known in the United States as the meadow-lark, Sturnella magna or S. ludoviciana, a bird which in aspect and habits has considerable resemblance to the larks of the Old World, Alaudidae, to which, however, it has no near affinity, while Dolichonyx oryzivorus, the bobolink or rice-bird, with its very bunting-like bill, is not much less aberrant.

ICTERUS, a bird referenced by classical writers, and believed by Pliny to be the same as the Galgulus, which is commonly identified with the golden oriole (Oriolus galbula). It represented a bird whose plumage was primarily yellow or green, so Brisson wasn’t wrong to scientifically apply it to some New World birds that shared this trait. These are now considered a distinct family, Icteridae, which seems to be positioned between the Buntings (q.v.) and Starlings (q.v.); and while many of them are called troopials (the English equivalent of the French Troupiales, first used by Brisson), others are known as the American Grackles (q.v.). The typical species of Icterus is the Oriolus icterus of Linnaeus, the Icterus vulgaris of Daudin and modern ornithologists, found in northern Brazil, Guiana, and Venezuela, occasionally visiting parts of the Antilles and the United States. Sclater and Salvin recognize thirty-three species of the genus Icterus alone, along with more than seventy others from over twenty genera, as part of the Neotropical Region, although a few migrate north in the summer. Cassicus and Ostinops could be noted as particularly remarkable. Most of these birds are social, many have loud and often melodious songs, making them popular in captivity as they easily learn to whistle simple tunes. Some have all-black plumage, while others are vibrantly colored, like the well-known Baltimore oriole, golden robin, or hangnest of the United States, Icterus baltimore, whose stark black and orange coloration has earned it a common name in North America. These colors, as noted by Catesby (Birds of Carolina, i. 48), reflect the armorial bearings of the Calverts, Lords Baltimore, the original grantees of Maryland, but are likely more accurately their livery colors. The most distinct member of the Icteridae appears to be what is known in the U.S. as the meadow-lark, Sturnella magna or S. ludoviciana, a bird that resembles the larks of the Old World, Alaudidae, but is not closely related. Similarly, Dolichonyx oryzivorus, the bobolink or rice-bird, with its rather bunting-like bill, is also quite distinct.

(A. N.)

1 The number of names by which this species was known in ancient times—Chloris or Chlorion, Galbula (akin to Galgulus), Parra and Vireo—may be explained by its being a common and conspicuous bird, as well as one which varied in plumage according to age and sex (see Oriole). Owing to its general colour, Chloris was in time transferred to the Greenfinch (q.v.), while the names Galbula, Parra and Vireo have since been utilized by ornithologists (see Jacamar and Jacana).

1 The number of names this species was known by in ancient times—Chloris or Chlorion, Galbula (similar to Galgulus), Parra, and Vireo—can be attributed to it being a common and noticeable bird, as well as one that changed its feathers based on age and sex (see Oriole). Because of its overall color, Chloris eventually became associated with the Greenfinch (q.v.), while the names Galbula, Parra, and Vireo have since been used by ornithologists (see Jacamar and Jacana).


ICTINUS, the architect of the Parthenon at Athens, of the Hall of the Mysteries at Eleusis, and of the temple of Apollo at Bassae, near Phigalia. He was thus active about 450-430 B.C. We know little else about him; but the remains of his two great temples testify to his wonderful mastery of the principles of Greek architecture.

ICTINUS, was the architect of the Parthenon in Athens, the Hall of the Mysteries at Eleusis, and the temple of Apollo at Bassae, near Phigalia. He was active around 450-430 BCE We don't know much else about him, but the remains of his two major temples showcase his incredible skill in Greek architecture.


IDA (d. 559), king of Bernicia, became king in 547, soon after the foundation of the kingdom of Bernicia by the Angles. He built the fortress of Bebbanburh, the modern Bamborough, and after his death his kingdom, which did not extend south of the Tees, passed in turn to six of his sons. The surname of 276 “Flame-Bearer,” sometimes applied to him, refers, however, not to Ida, but to his son Theodric (d. 587).

IDA (d. 559), king of Bernicia, became king in 547, shortly after the Angles established the kingdom of Bernicia. He built the fortress of Bebbanburh, now known as Bamborough, and after his death, his kingdom, which didn’t extend south of the Tees, was passed on to six of his sons. The nickname 276 “Flame-Bearer,” sometimes used for him, actually refers to his son Theodric (d. 587).

See J. R. Green, Making of England, vol. i. (London, 1897).

See J. R. Green, Making of England, vol. i. (London, 1897).


IDAHO, a western state of the United States of America, situated between 42° and 49° N. lat. and 111° and 117° W. long. It is bounded N. by British Columbia and Montana, E. by Montana and Wyoming, S. by Utah and Nevada, and W. by Oregon and Washington. Its total area is 83,888 sq. m., of which 83,354 sq. m. are land surface, and of this 41,851.55 sq. m. were in July 1908 unappropriated and unreserved public lands of the United States, and 31,775.7 sq. m. were forest reserves, of which 15,153.5 sq. m. were reserved between the 1st of July 1906 and the 1st of July 1907.

IDAHO, is a western state in the United States, located between 42° and 49° N latitude and 111° and 117° W longitude. It is bordered to the north by British Columbia and Montana, to the east by Montana and Wyoming, to the south by Utah and Nevada, and to the west by Oregon and Washington. Its total area is 83,888 square miles, of which 83,354 square miles are land. As of July 1908, 41,851.55 square miles were unappropriated and unreserved public lands of the United States, and 31,775.7 square miles were forest reserves, with 15,153.5 square miles reserved between July 1, 1906, and July 1, 1907.

Physical Features.—Idaho’s elevation above sea-level varies from 738 ft. (at Lewiston, Nez Perce county) to 12,078 ft. (Hyndman Peak, on the boundary between Custer and Blaine counties), and its mean elevation is about 4500 ft. The S.E. corner of the wedge-shaped surface of the state is a part of the Great Basin region of the United States. The remainder of the state is divided by a line running S.E. and N.W., the smaller section, to the N. and E., belonging to the Rocky Mountain region, and the larger, S. and W. of this imaginary line, being a part of the Columbia Plateau region. The topography of the Great Basin region in Idaho is similar to that of the same region in other states (see Nevada); in Idaho it forms a very small part of the state; its mountains are practically a part of the Wasatch Range of Utah; and the southward drainage of the region (into Great Salt Lake, by Bear river) also separates it from the other parts of the state. The Rocky Mountain region of Idaho is bounded by most of the state’s irregular E. boundary—the Bitter Root, the Cœur d’Alene and the Cabinet ranges being parts of the Rocky Mountain System. The Rocky Mountain region reaches across the N. part of the state (the Panhandle), and well into the middle of the state farther S., where the region is widest and where the Salmon River range is the principal one. The region is made up in general of high ranges deeply glaciated, preserving some remnants of ancient glaciers, and having fine “Alpine” scenery, with many sharp peaks and ridges, U-shaped valleys, cirques, lakes and waterfalls. In the third physiographic region, the Columbia plateau, are the Saw Tooth, Boisé, Owyhee and other rugged ranges, especially on the S. and W. borders of the region. The most prominent features of this part of the state are the arid Snake river plains and three mountain-like elevations—Big, Middle and East Buttes—that rise from their midst. The plains extend from near the S.E. corner of the state in a curved course to the W. and N.W. for about 350 m. over a belt 50 to 75 m. wide, and cover about 30,000 sq. m. Where they cross the W. border at Lewiston is the lowest elevation in the state, 738 ft. above the sea. Instead of being one plain formed by erosion, this region is rather a series of plains built up with sheets of lava, several thousand feet deep, varying considerably in elevation and in smoothness of surface according to the nature of the lava, and being greater in area than any other lava beds in North America except those of the Columbia river, which are of similar formation and, with the Snake river plains, form the Columbia plateau. Many volcanic cones mark the surface, but by far the most prominent among them are Big Butte, which rises precipitously 2350 ft. above the plain (7659 ft. above the sea) in the E. part of Blaine county, and East Butte, 700 ft. above the plain, in the N.W. part of Bingham county. Middle Butte (400 ft. above the plain, also in Bingham county) is an upraised block of stratified basalt. The Snake river (which receives all the drainage of Idaho except small amounts taken by the Spokane, the Pend Oreille and the Kootenai in the N., all emptying directly into the Columbia, and by some minor streams of the S.E. that empty into Great Salt Lake, Utah) rises in Yellowstone National Park a few miles from the heads of the Madison fork of the Missouri, which flows to the Gulf of Mexico, and the Green fork of the Colorado, which flows to the Gulf of California. It flows S.W. and then W. for about 800 m. in a tremendous cañon across southern Idaho; turns N. and runs for 200 m. as the boundary between Idaho and Oregon (and for a short distance between Idaho and Washington); turns again at Lewiston (where it ceases to be the boundary, and where the Clearwater empties into it) to the W. into a deep narrow valley, and joins the Columbia in S.E. Washington. Practically all the valley of the Snake from Idaho Falls in S.E. Idaho (Bingham county) to the mouth is of cañon character, with walls from a few hundred to 6000 ft. in height (about 650 m. in Idaho). The finest parts are among the most magnificent in the west; among its falls are the American (Oneida and Blaine counties), and the Shoshone and the Salmon (Lincoln county). At the Shoshone Falls the river makes a sudden plunge of nearly 200 ft., and the Falls have been compared with the Niagara and Zambezi; a short distance back of the main fall is a cataract of 125 ft., the Bridal Veil. Between Henry’s Fork and Malade (or Big Wood) river, a distance of 200 m., the river apparently has no northern tributaries; but several streams, as the Camas, Medicine Lodge and Birch creeks, and Big and Little Lost rivers, which fail to penetrate the plain of the Snake after reaching its border, are believed to join it through subterranean channels. The more important affluents are the North Fork in the E., the Raft, Salmon Falls and the Bruneau in the S., the Owyhee and the Payette in the S.W., and the Salmon and Clearwater in the W. The scenery on some of these tributaries is almost as beautiful as that of the Snake, though lacking the grandeur of its greater scale. In 1904 electricity, generated by water-power from the rivers, notably the Snake, began to be utilized in mining operations. Scattered among the mountains are numerous (glacial) lakes. In the N. are: Cœur d’Alene Lake, in Kootenai county, about 30 m. long and from 2 to 4 m. wide, drained by the Spokane river; Priest Lake, in Bonner county, 20 m. long and about 10 m. wide; and mostly in Bonner, but partly in Kootenai county, a widening of Clark Fork, Lake Pend Oreille, 60 m. long and from 3 to 15 m. wide, which is spanned by a trestle of the Northern Pacific 8400 ft. long. Bear Lake, in the extreme S.E., lies partly in Utah. Mineral springs and hot springs are also a notable feature of Idaho’s physiography, being found in Washington, Ada, Blaine, Bannock, Cassia, Owyhee, Oneida, Nez Perce, Kootenai, Shoshone and Fremont counties. At Soda Springs in Bannock county are scores of springs whose waters, some ice cold and some warm, contain magnesia, soda, iron, sulphur, &c.; near Hailey, Blaine county, water with a temperature of 144° F. is discharged from numerous springs; and at Boisé, water with a temperature of 165° is obtained from wells.

Physical Features.—Idaho’s elevation above sea level ranges from 738 ft. (at Lewiston, Nez Perce County) to 12,078 ft. (Hyndman Peak, on the boundary between Custer and Blaine counties), with an average elevation of about 4,500 ft. The southeast corner of the state, which has a wedge-shaped surface, is part of the Great Basin region of the United States. The rest of the state is split by an imaginary line running southeast and northwest; the smaller section to the north and east belongs to the Rocky Mountain region, while the larger area to the south and west of this line is part of the Columbia Plateau region. The topography of the Great Basin in Idaho resembles that of similar regions in other states (see Nevada); however, it only constitutes a small fraction of Idaho. Its mountains are nearly part of the Wasatch Range in Utah, and the southward flow of the region (into Great Salt Lake via Bear River) further separates it from the rest of the state. Idaho's Rocky Mountain region is defined by most of the state’s irregular eastern boundary, with the Bitterroot, the Cœur d’Alene, and the Cabinet Ranges being sections of the Rocky Mountain System. This region stretches across northern Idaho (the Panhandle) and deep into the middle of the state to the south, where its width is greatest and the Salmon River Range is the main feature. Overall, the region consists of high ranges that are deeply glaciated, with remnants of ancient glaciers, showcasing stunning “Alpine” landscapes, sharp peaks, ridges, U-shaped valleys, cirques, lakes, and waterfalls. In the third physiographic region, the Columbia Plateau, lie the Sawtooth, Boise, Owyhee, and other rugged ranges, especially along the southern and western borders. The most notable features in this part of Idaho include the arid Snake River plains and three butte-like elevations—Big, Middle, and East Buttes—that rise from the plains. The plains extend in a curved path from the southeast corner of the state to the west and northwest for about 350 miles, covering a belt 50 to 75 miles wide, and occupying around 30,000 square miles. At Lewiston, where they cross the western border, is the lowest elevation in the state at 738 ft. above sea level. Rather than being a single plain formed by erosion, this area is more like a series of plains made up of layers of lava several thousand feet deep, varying significantly in elevation and surface smoothness based on the type of lava, and is larger in area than any other lava beds in North America, except those along the Columbia River, which have a similar formation and, alongside the Snake River plains, constitute the Columbia Plateau. Numerous volcanic cones are scattered across the landscape, but the most prominent are Big Butte, which rises steeply 2,350 ft. above the plain (7,659 ft. above sea level) in the eastern part of Blaine County, and East Butte, which stands 700 ft. above the plain in the northwest part of Bingham County. Middle Butte, located in Bingham County as well, rises 400 ft. above the plain and is a block of stratified basalt. The Snake River, which collects all the drainage of Idaho except for small amounts drained by the Spokane, Pend Oreille, and Kootenai rivers in the north (all of which empty directly into the Columbia), as well as some minor streams in the southeast that flow into Great Salt Lake, Utah, starts in Yellowstone National Park just a few miles from the origins of the Madison River fork of the Missouri (which flows to the Gulf of Mexico) and the Green River fork of the Colorado (which flows to the Gulf of California). It travels southwest and then west for about 800 miles through an enormous canyon across southern Idaho, shifts northward, and flows for 200 miles along the border between Idaho and Oregon (with a brief stretch between Idaho and Washington); it then reorients again at Lewiston, where it no longer serves as the boundary and where the Clearwater River joins it, flowing west into a deep narrow valley before merging with the Columbia in southeastern Washington. Almost the entire stretch of the Snake River from Idaho Falls in southeastern Idaho (Bingham County) to its mouth is characterized by canyon-like features, with walls rising from a few hundred to 6,000 ft. (about 650 m. in Idaho). The most beautiful sections are among the most stunning in the west; notable waterfalls include the American (Oneida and Blaine counties), the Shoshone, and the Salmon (Lincoln County). At Shoshone Falls, the river plunges nearly 200 ft., and these falls have been compared to Niagara and Zambezi; just upstream from the main fall, there's a 125 ft. cataract called the Bridal Veil. Between Henry's Fork and Malade (or Big Wood) River, over a distance of 200 miles, the Snake River seemingly has no northern tributaries; however, several streams like Camas, Medicine Lodge, Birch Creeks, and Big and Little Lost rivers are believed to connect to it through underground channels after hitting the plain. The more significant tributaries include the North Fork in the east, the Raft, Salmon Falls, and Bruneau in the south, and the Owyhee and Payette in the southwest, along with the Salmon and Clearwater in the west. The scenery along some of these tributaries is nearly as beautiful as that of the Snake, though it lacks the grandeur of its larger scale. In 1904, electricity generated from water power, mainly from the Snake River, began to be used in mining operations. Scattered throughout the mountains are numerous glacial lakes. In the north, there are: Cœur d’Alene Lake in Kootenai County, about 30 miles long and 2 to 4 miles wide, drained by the Spokane River; Priest Lake in Bonner County, which is 20 miles long and about 10 miles wide; and mostly in Bonner but partly in Kootenai County, a widening of Clark Fork known as Lake Pend Oreille, which is 60 miles long and ranges from 3 to 15 miles wide, crossed by a 8,400 ft. long trestle of the Northern Pacific. Bear Lake, located in the extreme southeast, lies partly in Utah. Mineral springs and hot springs are also significant features of Idaho's geography, found in Washington, Ada, Blaine, Bannock, Cassia, Owyhee, Oneida, Nez Perce, Kootenai, Shoshone, and Fremont counties. At Soda Springs in Bannock County, there are numerous springs with water that ranges from ice-cold to warm, containing minerals like magnesia, soda, iron, and sulfur; near Hailey, Blaine County, various springs discharge water at 144°F; while at Boise, water at 165°F is accessible from wells.

The fauna and flora of Idaho are similar in general to those of the other states in the north-western part of the United States.

The wildlife and plants of Idaho are generally similar to those in the other states in the northwestern part of the United States.

Climate.—The mean annual temperature of Idaho from 1898 to 1903 was 45.5° F. There are several distinct climate zones within the state. North of Clearwater river the climate is comparatively mild, the maximum in 1902 (96° F.) being lower than the highest temperature in the state and the minimum (−16°) higher than the lowest temperature registered. The mildest region of the state is the Snake river basin between Twin Falls and Lewiston, and the valley of the Boisé, Payette and Weiser rivers; here the mean annual temperature in 1902 was 52° F., the maximum was 106° F., and the minimum was −13° F. In the Upper Snake basin, in the Camas prairie and Lost river regions, the climate is much colder, the highest temperature in 1902 being 101° and the lowest −35° F. The mean annual rainfall for the entire state in 1903 was 16.60 in.; the highest amount recorded was at Murray, Shoshone county (37.70 in.) and the lowest was at Garnet, Elmore county (5.69 in.).

Climate.—The average annual temperature of Idaho from 1898 to 1903 was 45.5° F. There are several distinct climate zones in the state. North of the Clearwater River, the climate is fairly mild, with the highest temperature in 1902 reaching 96° F., which is lower than the state’s highest temperature, and the lowest recorded temperature was −16°, higher than the state's absolute low. The mildest area in the state is the Snake River basin between Twin Falls and Lewiston, and the valleys of the Boise, Payette, and Weiser rivers; here, the average annual temperature in 1902 was 52° F., with a maximum of 106° F., and a minimum of −13° F. In the Upper Snake basin, Camas Prairie, and Lost River regions, the climate is significantly colder, with the highest temperature in 1902 at 101° F. and the lowest at −35° F. The total annual rainfall for the entire state in 1903 was 16.60 inches; the highest recorded amount was in Murray, Shoshone County (37.70 inches), and the lowest was in Garnet, Elmore County (5.69 inches).

Agriculture.—The principal source of wealth in Idaho was in 1900 agriculture, but it had long been secondary to mining, and its development had been impeded by certain natural disadvantages. Except for the broad valleys of the Panhandle, where the soils are black in colour and rich in vegetable mould, the surface of the state is arid; the Snake river valley is a vast lava bed, covered with deposits of salt and sand, or soils of volcanic origin. And, apart from this, the farming country was long without transport facilities. The fertile northern plateaus, the Camas and Nez Perce prairies and the Palouse country—a wonderful region for growing the durum or macaroni wheat—until 1898 had no market nearer than Lewiston, 50-70 m. away; and even in 1898, when the railway was built, large parts of the region were not tapped by it, and were as much as 30 m. from any shipping point, for the road had followed the Clearwater. In the arid southern region, also, there was no railway until 1885, when the Oregon Short Line was begun. Like limitations in N. and S. had like effects: for years the country was devoted to live-stock, which could be driven to a distant market. Timothy was grown in the northern, and alfalfa in the southern region as a forage crop. Even at this earliest period, irrigation, simple and individual, had begun in the southern section, the head waters of the few streams in this district being soon surrounded by farms. Co-operation and colonization followed, and more ditching was done, co-operative irrigation canals were constructed with some elaborate and large dams and head gates. The Carey Act (1894) and the Federal Reclamation Act (1902) introduced the most important period of irrigation. Under the Carey Act the Twin Falls project, deriving water from the Snake river near Twin Falls, and irrigating more than 200,000 acres, was completed in 1903-1905. The great projects undertaken with Federal aid were: the Minidoka, in Lincoln and Cassia counties, of which survey began in March 1903 and construction in December 1904, and which was completed in 1907, commanding an irrigable area of 130,000-150,000 acres,1 and has a diversion dam (rock-fill type) 600 ft. long, and 130 m. of canals and 100 m. of laterals; the larger Payette-Boisé project in Ada, Canyon and Owyhee counties (372,000 acres irrigable; 300,000 now desert; 60% privately owned), whose principal features are the Payette dam (rock-fill), 100 ft. high and 400 ft. long, and the Boisé dam (masonry), 33 ft. high and 400 ft. long, 200 m. of canals, 100 m. of laterals, a tunnel 1100 ft. long and 12,500 h.p. transmitted 29 m., 3000 h.p. being necessary to pump to a height of 50-90 ft. water for the irrigation of 15,000 acres; and the Dubois project, the largest in the state, on which survey and reconnaissance work were done in 1903-1904, which requires storage sites on the North Fork of the 277 Snake and on nearly all the important branches of the North Fork, and whose field is 200,000—250,000 acres, almost entirely Federal property, in the W. end of Fremont county between Mud Lake and the lower end of Big Lost river. A further step in irrigation is the utilization of underground waters: in the Big Camas Prairie region, Blaine county, water 10 ft. below the surface is tapped and pumped by electricity generated from the only surface water of the region, Camas Creek. In 1899 the value of the crops and other agricultural products of the irrigated region amounted to more than seven-tenths of the total for the state. In 1907, according to the Report of the state commissioner of immigration, 1,559,915 irrigated acres were under cultivation, and 3,266,386 acres were “covered” by canals 3789 m. long and costing $11,257,023.

Agriculture.—In 1900, agriculture was the main source of wealth in Idaho, but it had been secondary to mining for a long time, and its growth faced some natural challenges. Aside from the wide valleys of the Panhandle, where the soil is dark and fertile, most of the state is dry. The Snake River Valley is a huge lava field covered in salt, sand, and volcanic-based soils. Additionally, the farming areas struggled for a long time without transportation options. The fertile northern plateaus, the Camas and Nez Perce prairies, and the Palouse region—which is excellent for growing durum or macaroni wheat—didn't have a market closer than Lewiston, 50-70 miles away, until 1898. Even then, when the railway was built, many parts of the region were still unreachable by it, with some areas being 30 miles from any shipping point because the railway followed the Clearwater route. In the dry southern region, there was also no railway until 1885, when the Oregon Short Line began construction. These limitations in both the north and south had similar effects; for years, the region focused on livestock since they could be driven to faraway markets. Timothy was grown in the north, and alfalfa in the south as a forage crop. Even at that early time, simple irrigation had started in the south, with farms quickly surrounding the headwaters of a few streams in the area. Cooperation and colonization followed, leading to more ditching and the construction of cooperative irrigation canals, complete with significant and large dams and head gates. The Carey Act (1894) and the Federal Reclamation Act (1902) marked the most crucial period for irrigation. Under the Carey Act, the Twin Falls project, which took water from the Snake River near Twin Falls and irrigated over 200,000 acres, was completed between 1903 and 1905. Major projects undertaken with federal assistance included the Minidoka project in Lincoln and Cassia counties, which began surveying in March 1903, started construction in December 1904, and was finished in 1907, covering an irrigable area of 130,000 to 150,000 acres, with a 600-foot long rock-fill diversion dam and 130 miles of canals and 100 miles of laterals. The larger Payette-Boisé project in Ada, Canyon, and Owyhee counties has an irrigable area of 372,000 acres (with 300,000 now desert and 60% privately owned) and features the Payette dam (rock-fill) at 100 feet high and 400 feet long, and the Boisé dam (masonry) at 33 feet high and 400 feet long, along with 200 miles of canals, 100 miles of laterals, and a tunnel measuring 1,100 feet long, transmitting 12,500 horsepower over 29 miles, with 3,000 horsepower needed to pump water up 50-90 feet for irrigating 15,000 acres. The Dubois project, the largest in the state, had survey and reconnaissance work done between 1903 and 1904 and requires storage sites on the North Fork of the Snake and almost all major branches of the North Fork, covering a field of 200,000 to 250,000 acres, primarily federal property, in the western end of Fremont County between Mud Lake and the lower end of the Big Lost River. A further step in irrigation is tapping into underground water: in the Big Camas Prairie region of Blaine County, water 10 feet below the surface is pumped using electricity generated from the only surface water in the area, Camas Creek. In 1899, the value of crops and other agricultural products from the irrigated region was over 70% of the state's total. By 1907, according to the Report of the state commissioner of immigration, 1,559,915 irrigated acres were under cultivation, and 3,266,386 acres were “covered” by canals totaling 3789 miles and costing $11,257,023.

Up to 1900 the most prosperous period (absolutely) in the agricultural development of the state was the last decade of the 19th century; the relative increase, however, was greater between 1880 and 1890. The number of farms increased from 1885 in 1880 to 6603 in 1890 and to 17,471 in 1900; the farm acreage from 327,798 in 1880 to 1,302,256 in 1890 and to 3,204,903 acres in 1900; the irrigated area (exclusive of farms on Indian reservations) from 217,005 acres in 1889 to 602,568 acres in 1899; the value of products increased from $1,515,314 in 1879 to $3,848,930 in 1889, and to $18,051,625 in 1899; the value of farm land with improvements (including buildings) from $2,832,890 in 1880 to $17,431,580 in 1890 and $42,318,183 in 1900; the value of implements and machinery from $363,930 in 1880 to $1,172,460 in 1890 and to $3,295,045 in 1900; and that of live-stock from $4,023,800 in 1880 to $7,253,490 in 1890 and to $21,657,974 in 1900. In 1900 the average size of farms was 183.4 acres. Cultivation by owners is the prevailing form of tenure, 91.3% of the farms being so operated in 1900 (2.3% by cash tenants and 6.4% by share tenants). As illustrative of agricultural conditions the contrast of the products of farms operated by Indians, Chinese and whites is of considerable interest, the value of products (not fed to live-stock) per acre of the 563 Indian farms being in 1899 $1.40, that of the 16,876 white farms $4.67, and that of the 23 Chinese farms intensively cultivated and devoted to market vegetables $69.83.

Up to 1900, the most successful period in the state's agricultural development was the last decade of the 19th century; however, the relative growth was even greater between 1880 and 1890. The number of farms increased from 5,188 in 1880 to 6,603 in 1890 and to 17,471 in 1900; the total farm acreage grew from 327,798 in 1880 to 1,302,256 in 1890 and to 3,204,903 acres in 1900; the irrigated area (excluding farms on Indian reservations) expanded from 217,005 acres in 1889 to 602,568 acres in 1899; the value of agricultural products rose from $1,515,314 in 1879 to $3,848,930 in 1889, and then to $18,051,625 in 1899; the value of farmland with improvements (including buildings) went from $2,832,890 in 1880 to $17,431,580 in 1890 and $42,318,183 in 1900; the value of tools and machinery jumped from $363,930 in 1880 to $1,172,460 in 1890 and to $3,295,045 in 1900; and the value of livestock increased from $4,023,800 in 1880 to $7,253,490 in 1890 and to $21,657,974 in 1900. In 1900, the average size of farms was 183.4 acres. Owner cultivation was the most common form of land tenure, with 91.3% of farms being operated by owners in 1900 (2.3% by cash tenants and 6.4% by share tenants). To illustrate agricultural conditions, it's interesting to compare the products of farms run by Indians, Chinese, and whites; the value of products (not fed to livestock) per acre in 1899 was $1.40 for the 563 Indian farms, $4.67 for the 16,876 white farms, and an impressive $69.83 for the 23 Chinese farms that were intensively cultivated and focused on market vegetables.

The income from agriculture in 1899 was almost equally divided between crops ($8,951,440) and animal products ($8,784,364)—in that year forest products were valued at $315,821. Of the crops, hay and forage were the most valuable ($4,238,993), yielding 47.4% of the total value of crops, an increase of more than 200% over that of 1889, and in 1907, according to the Year-book of the Department of Agriculture, the crop was valued at $8,585,000. Wheat, which in 1899 ranked second ($2,131,953), showed an increase of more than 400% in the decade, and the farm value of the crop of 1907, according to the Year-book of the United States Department of Agriculture, was $5,788,000; the value of the barley crop in 1899 ($312,730) also increased more than 400% over that of 1889, and in 1907 the farm value of the product, according to the same authority, was $1,265,000; the value of the oat crop in 1899 ($702,955) showed an increase of more than 300% in the decade, and the value of the product in 1907, according to the United States Department of Agriculture, was $2,397,000.

The income from agriculture in 1899 was almost evenly split between crops ($8,951,440) and animal products ($8,784,364). That year, forest products were valued at $315,821. Among the crops, hay and forage were the most valuable ($4,238,993), making up 47.4% of the total crop value, which was more than a 200% increase compared to 1889. In 1907, according to the Year-book of the Department of Agriculture, the crop was valued at $8,585,000. Wheat, which was ranked second in 1899 ($2,131,953), saw an increase of over 400% in the decade, with the farm value of the 1907 crop, as reported by the Year-book of the United States Department of Agriculture, reaching $5,788,000. The value of the barley crop in 1899 ($312,730) also increased by more than 400% since 1889, and in 1907 the farm value of the product, according to the same source, was $1,265,000. The oat crop in 1899 was valued at $702,955, which represented a rise of more than 300% over the decade, and the value of the product in 1907, according to the United States Department of Agriculture, was $2,397,000.

More than one-half of the cereal crop in 1905 was produced in the prairie and plateau region of Nez Perce and Latah counties. The production of orchard fruits (apples, cherries, peaches, pears, plums and prunes) increased greatly from 1889 to 1899; the six counties of Ada, Canyon (probably the leading fruit county of the state), Latah (famous for apples), Washington, Owyhee and Nez Perce had in 1900 89% of the plum and prune trees, 85% of all pear trees, 78% of all cherry trees, and 74% of all apple trees in the state, and in 1906 it was estimated by the State Commissioner of Immigration that there were nearly 48,000 acres of land devoted to orchard fruits in Idaho. Viticulture is of importance, particularly in the Lewiston valley. In 1906, 234,000 tons of sugar beets were raised, and fields in the Boisé valley raised 30 tons per acre.

More than half of the cereal crop in 1905 was grown in the prairie and plateau region of Nez Perce and Latah counties. The production of orchard fruits (apples, cherries, peaches, pears, plums, and prunes) saw a significant increase from 1889 to 1899; the six counties of Ada, Canyon (likely the top fruit county in the state), Latah (known for apples), Washington, Owyhee, and Nez Perce had, in 1900, 89% of the plum and prune trees, 85% of all pear trees, 78% of all cherry trees, and 74% of all apple trees in the state. In 1906, the State Commissioner of Immigration estimated that there were nearly 48,000 acres of land dedicated to orchard fruits in Idaho. Viticulture is also important, especially in the Lewiston valley. In 1906, 234,000 tons of sugar beets were harvested, with fields in the Boise valley yielding 30 tons per acre.

Of the animal products in 1899, the most valuable was live-stock sold during the year ($3,909,454); the stock-raising industry was carried on most extensively in the S.E. part of the state. Wool ranked second in value ($2,210,790), and according to the estimate of the National Association of Wool Manufactures for 1907, Idaho ranked fourth among the wool-producing states in number of sheep (2,500,000), third in wool, washed and unwashed (17,250,000 ℔), and fourth in scoured wool (5,692,500 ℔). In January 1908, according to the Year-book of the Department of Agriculture, the number and farm values of live-stock were: milch cows, 69,000, valued at $2,208,000, and other neat cattle, 344,000, valued at $5,848,000; horses, 150,000, $11,250,000; sheep, 3,575,000, $12,691,000; and swine, 130,000, $910,000. According to state reports for 1906, most of the neat cattle were then on ranges in Lemhi, Idaho, Washington, Cassia and Owyhee counties; Nez Perce, Canyon, Fremont, Idaho, and Washington counties had the largest number of horses; Owyhee, Blaine and Canyon counties had the largest numbers of sheep, and Idaho and Nez Perce counties were the principal swine-raising regions. The pasture lands of the state have been greatly decreased by the increase of forest reserves, especially by the large reservations made in 1906-1907.

Of the animal products in 1899, the most valuable was livestock sold during the year ($3,909,454); the stock-raising industry was most prevalent in the southeastern part of the state. Wool was the second most valuable product ($2,210,790), and according to the estimate from the National Association of Wool Manufacturers in 1907, Idaho was fourth among the wool-producing states in sheep numbers (2,500,000), third in total wool, both washed and unwashed (17,250,000 lbs), and fourth in scoured wool (5,692,500 lbs). In January 1908, according to the Year-book from the Department of Agriculture, the number and farm values of livestock were: milking cows, 69,000, valued at $2,208,000; other cattle, 344,000, valued at $5,848,000; horses, 150,000, valued at $11,250,000; sheep, 3,575,000, valued at $12,691,000; and pigs, 130,000, valued at $910,000. State reports for 1906 showed that most of the cattle were on ranges in Lemhi, Idaho, Washington, Cassia, and Owyhee counties; Nez Perce, Canyon, Fremont, Idaho, and Washington counties had the highest number of horses; Owyhee, Blaine, and Canyon counties had the most sheep, while Idaho and Nez Perce counties were the main areas for raising pigs. The state's pasture lands have significantly decreased due to the expansion of forest reserves, particularly from the large reservations made in 1906-1907.

Mining.—The mineral resource of Idaho are second only to the agricultural; indeed it was primarily the discovery of the immense value of the deposits of gold and silver about 1860 that led to the settlement of Idaho Territory. In Idaho, as elsewhere, the first form of mining was a very lucrative working of placer deposits; this gave way to vein mining and a greatly reduced production of gold and silver after 1878, on account of the exhaustion of the placers. Then came an adjustment to new conditions and a gradual increase of the product. The total mineral product in 1906, according to the State Mine Inspector, was valued at $24,138,317. The total gold production of Idaho from 1860 to 1906 has been estimated at $250,000,000, of which a large part was produced in the Idaho Basin, the region lying between the N. fork of the Boisé and the S. fork of the Payette rivers. In 1901-1902 rich gold deposits were discovered in the Thunder Mountain district in Idaho county. The counties with the largest production of gold in 1907 (state report) were Owyhee ($362,742), Boisé ($282,444), Custer ($210,900) and Idaho; the total for the state was $1,075,618 in 1905; in 1906 it was $1,149,100; and in 1907, according to state reports, $1,373,031. The total of the state for silver in 1905 was $5,242,172; in 1906 it was $6,042,606; in 1907, according to state reports, it was $5,546,554. The richest deposits of silver are those of Wood river and of the Cœur d’Alene district in Shoshone county (opened up in 1886); the county’s product in 1906 was valued at $5,322,706, an increase of $917,743 over the preceding year; in 1907 it was $4,780,093, according to state reports. The production of the next richest county, Owyhee, in 1907, was less than one tenth that of Shoshone county, which yields, besides, about one half of the lead mined in the United States, its product of lead being valued at $9,851,076 in 1904, at $14,365,265 in 1906, and at $12,232,233 (state report) in 1907. Idaho was the first of the states in its output of lead from 1896, when it first passed Colorado in rank, to 1906, excepting the year 1899, when Colorado again was first; the value of the lead mined in 1906 was $14,535,823, and of that mined in 1907 (state report), $12,470,375. High grade copper ores have been produced in the Seven Devils and Washington districts of Washington county; there are deposits, little developed up to 1906, in Lemhi county (which was almost inaccessible by railway) and in Bannock county; the copper mined in 1905 was valued at $1,134,846, and in 1907, according to state reports, at $2,241,177, of which about two-thirds was the output of the Cœur d’Alene district in Shoshone county. Zinc occurs in the Cœur d’Alene district, at Hailey, Blaine county and elsewhere; according to the state reports, the state’s output in 1906 was valued at $91,426 and in 1907 at $534,087. Other minerals of economic value are sandstone, quarried at Boisé, Ada county, at Preston, Oneida county, and at Goshen, Prospect and Idaho Falls, Bingham county, valued at $22,265 in 1905, and at $11,969 in 1906; limestone, valued at $14,105 in 1905 and at $12,600 in 1906, used entirely for the local manufacture of lime, part of which was used in the manufacture of sugar; and coal, in the Horseshoe Bend and Jerusalem districts in Boisé county, in Lemhi county near Salmon City, and in E. Bingham and Fremont counties, with an output in 1906 of 5365 tons, valued at $18,538 as compared with 20 and 10 tons respectively in 1899 and 1900. Minerals developed slightly, or not at all, are granite, valued at $1500 in 1905; surface salt, in the arid and semi-arid regions; nickel and cobalt, in Lemhi county; tungsten, near Murray, Shoshone county; monazite and zircon, in certain sands; and some pumice.

Mining.—The mineral resources of Idaho are second only to agriculture; indeed, it was primarily the discovery of the immense value of gold and silver deposits around 1860 that led to the settlement of Idaho Territory. In Idaho, as in other places, the first type of mining was highly profitable placer mining. This eventually transitioned to vein mining, leading to a significant drop in gold and silver production after 1878, due to the depletion of placer deposits. Then came an adjustment to new conditions and a gradual increase in production. The total mineral output in 1906, according to the State Mine Inspector, was valued at $24,138,317. The total gold production in Idaho from 1860 to 1906 is estimated at $250,000,000, much of which came from the Idaho Basin, the area between the North Fork of the Boise and the South Fork of the Payette rivers. In 1901-1902, rich gold deposits were found in the Thunder Mountain district of Idaho County. The counties with the highest gold production in 1907 (according to state reports) were Owyhee ($362,742), Boise ($282,444), Custer ($210,900), and Idaho; the total for the state was $1,075,618 in 1905; $1,149,100 in 1906; and $1,373,031 in 1907, based on state reports. The total silver production for the state in 1905 was $5,242,172; in 1906, it was $6,042,606; and in 1907, according to state reports, it was $5,546,554. The richest silver deposits are located in the Wood River and Cœur d’Alene districts in Shoshone County (which opened in 1886); the county’s output in 1906 was valued at $5,322,706, an increase of $917,743 from the previous year; in 1907, it was $4,780,093 according to state reports. The production of the next richest county, Owyhee, in 1907, was less than one-tenth that of Shoshone County, which also produces about half of the lead mined in the United States, with its lead output valued at $9,851,076 in 1904, $14,365,265 in 1906, and $12,232,233 (according to state reports) in 1907. Idaho was the leading state in lead production from 1896, when it first surpassed Colorado, until 1906, except for the year 1899, when Colorado reclaimed the top spot; the value of lead mined in 1906 was $14,535,823, and in 1907 (according to state reports), it was $12,470,375. High-grade copper ores have been produced in the Seven Devils and Washington districts of Washington County; there are deposits, which were minimally developed until 1906, in Lemhi County (which was nearly inaccessible by rail) and in Bannock County; copper mined in 1905 was valued at $1,134,846, and in 1907, according to state reports, it was valued at $2,241,177, with about two-thirds coming from the Cœur d’Alene district in Shoshone County. Zinc can be found in the Cœur d’Alene district, at Hailey, Blaine County, and elsewhere; according to state reports, the state's zinc output was valued at $91,426 in 1906 and $534,087 in 1907. Other economically valuable minerals include sandstone, quarried at Boise, Ada County, at Preston, Oneida County, and at Goshen, Prospect, and Idaho Falls, Bingham County, with values of $22,265 in 1905 and $11,969 in 1906; limestone, valued at $14,105 in 1905 and $12,600 in 1906, used entirely for local lime production, some of which was used to make sugar; and coal, found in the Horseshoe Bend and Jerusalem districts in Boise County, in Lemhi County near Salmon City, and in Eastern Bingham and Fremont counties, with an output in 1906 of 5,365 tons, valued at $18,538, compared to just 20 and 10 tons respectively in 1899 and 1900. Minerals that developed only slightly, or not at all, include granite, valued at $1,500 in 1905; surface salt in arid and semi-arid regions; nickel and cobalt in Lemhi County; tungsten near Murray, Shoshone County; monazite and zircon in certain sands; and some pumice.

Manufactures.—The manufactures of Idaho in 1900 were relatively unimportant, the value of all products of establishments under the “factory system” being $3,001,442; in 1905 the value of such manufactured products had increased 192.2%, to $8,768,743. The manufacturing establishments were limited to the supply of local demands. The principal industries were devoted to lumber and timber products, valued at $908,670 in 1900, and in 1905 at $2,834,506, 211.9% more. In 1906 the Weyerhauser Syndicate built at Potlatch, a town built by the syndicate in Latah county, a lumber mill, supposed to be the largest in the United States, with a daily capacity of 750,000 ft. In Bonner county there are great mills at Sand Point and at Bonner’s Ferry. In these and the other 93 saw-mills in the state in 1905 steam generated by the waste wood was the common power. The raw material for these products was secured from the 35,000 sq. m. of timber land in the state (6164 sq. m. having been reserved up to 1905, and 31,775.7 sq. m. up to April 1907 by the United States government); four-fifths of the cut in 1900 was yellow pine. Flour and grist mill products ranked second among the manufactures, being valued at $1,584,473 in 1905, an increase of nearly 116% over the product in 1900; and steam-car construction and repairs ranked third, with a value of $913,670 in 1905 and $523,631 in 1900. In 1903-1904 the cultivation of sugar beets and the manufacture of beet sugar were undertaken, and manufacturing establishments for that purpose were installed at Idaho Falls and Blackfoot (Bingham county), at Sugar, or Sugar City (Fremont county), a place built up about the sugar refineries, and at Nampa, Canyon county. In 1906 between 57,000,000 and 64,000,000 ℔ of beet sugar were refined in the state. Brick-making was of little more than local importance in 1906, the largest kilns being at Boisé, Sand Point and Cœur d’Alene City. Lime is made at Orofino, Shoshone county, and at Hope, Bonner county.

Manufactures.—In 1900, Idaho's manufacturing output was relatively minor, with the total value of products from establishments under the “factory system” being $3,001,442. By 1905, this value had surged by 192.2%, reaching $8,768,743. The manufacturing operations were primarily focused on fulfilling local needs. The main industries centered on lumber and timber products, valued at $908,670 in 1900 and soaring to $2,834,506 in 1905—a 211.9% increase. In 1906, the Weyerhauser Syndicate built a lumber mill in Potlatch, a town established by the syndicate in Latah County, which was said to be the largest in the United States, with a daily capacity of 750,000 feet. Great mills were also located in Bonner County at Sand Point and Bonner’s Ferry. In these and the other 93 sawmills in the state in 1905, steam generated from waste wood was the primary power source. The raw materials for these products came from the 35,000 square miles of timberland in the state (6,164 square miles had been reserved by 1905, and 31,775.7 square miles by April 1907 by the United States government); four-fifths of the timber cut in 1900 was yellow pine. Flour and grist mill products were the second-largest manufacturing sector, valued at $1,584,473 in 1905, an increase of nearly 116% from 1900; steam-car construction and repairs ranked third, valued at $913,670 in 1905 compared to $523,631 in 1900. In 1903-1904, sugar beet cultivation and sugar manufacturing were initiated, with facilities set up in Idaho Falls and Blackfoot (Bingham County), at Sugar, or Sugar City (Fremont County), a town that developed around the sugar refineries, and in Nampa, Canyon County. In 1906, between 57,000,000 and 64,000,000 pounds of beet sugar were refined in the state. Brick-making was mainly of local significance in 1906, with the largest kilns located in Boise, Sand Point, and Coeur d’Alene City. Lime was produced in Orofino, Shoshone County, and Hope, Bonner County.

Communications.—The total railway mileage in January 1909 was 2,022.04 m., an increase from 206 m. in 1880 and 946 m. in 1890. The Great Northern, the Northern Pacific, and the Oregon Railway 278 & Navigation lines cross the N. part of the state; the Oregon Short Line crosses the S., and the Union Pacific, which owns the Oregon Railway & Navigation and the Oregon Short Line roads, crosses the eastern part. The constitution declares that railways are public highways, that the legislature has authority to regulate rates, and that discrimination in tolls shall not be allowed.

Communications.—As of January 1909, the total railway mileage was 2,022.04 miles, an increase from 206 miles in 1880 and 946 miles in 1890. The Great Northern, Northern Pacific, and Oregon Railway 278 & Navigation lines run through the northern part of the state; the Oregon Short Line passes through the south, and the Union Pacific, which owns both the Oregon Railway & Navigation and Oregon Short Line, runs through the eastern area. The constitution states that railways are public highways, the legislature has the authority to regulate rates, and that discrimination in tolls is not allowed.

Population.—The population of Idaho in 1870 was 14,999; in 1880 it was 32,610, an increase of 117.4%; in 1890 it was 88,548, an increase of 158.8%; in 1900 161,772 (82.7% increase); and in 1910 325,594 (101.3% increase). Of the inhabitants 15.2% were in 1900 foreign-born and 4.5% were coloured, the coloured population consisting of 293 negroes, 1291 Japanese, 1467 Chinese and 4226 Indians. The Indians lived principally in three reservations, the Fort Hall and Lemhi reservations (1350 sq. m. and 100 sq. m. respectively), in S.E. and E. Idaho, being occupied by the Shoshone, Bannock and Sheef-eater tribes, and the Cœur d’Alene reservation (632 sq. m.), in the N.W., by the Cœur d’Alene and Spokane tribes. The former Nez Perce reservation, in the N.W. part of the state, was abolished in 1895, and the Nez Perces were put under the supervision of the superintendent of the Indian School at Fort Lapwai, about 12 m. E. of Lewiston, in Nez Perce county. Of these tribes, the Nez Perce and Cœur d’Alene were self-supporting; the other tribes were in 1900 dependent upon the United States government for 30% of their rations. Of the 24,604 foreign-born inhabitants of the state, 3943 were from England, 2974 were from Germany, 2528 were Canadian English, 2822 were from Sweden, and 1633 were from Ireland, various other countries being represented by smaller numbers. The urban population of Idaho in 1900 (i.e. the population of places having 4000 or more inhabitants) was 6.2% of the whole. There were thirty-three incorporated cities, towns and villages, but only five had a population exceeding 2000; these were Boisé (5957), Pocatello (4046), Lewiston (2425), Moscow (2484) and Wallace (2265). In 1906 it was estimated that the total membership of all religious denominations was 74,578, and that there were 32,425 Latter-Day Saints or Mormons (266 of the Reorganized Church), 18,057 Roman Catholics, 5884 Methodist Episcopalians (5313 of the Northern Church), 3770 Presbyterians (3698 of the Northern Church), 3206 Disciples of Christ, and 2374 Baptists (2331 of the Northern Convention).

Population.—The population of Idaho in 1870 was 14,999; in 1880 it grew to 32,610, an increase of 117.4%; in 1890 it reached 88,548, an increase of 158.8%; in 1900 it was 161,772 (an 82.7% increase); and in 1910 it jumped to 325,594 (a 101.3% increase). Of the residents, 15.2% were foreign-born in 1900, and 4.5% were people of color, which included 293 Black individuals, 1,291 Japanese, 1,467 Chinese, and 4,226 Native Americans. The Native Americans primarily lived on three reservations: the Fort Hall and Lemhi reservations (1,350 sq. mi. and 100 sq. mi. respectively) in southeastern and eastern Idaho, occupied by the Shoshone, Bannock, and Sheef-eater tribes, and the Cœur d’Alene reservation (632 sq. mi.) in the northwest, home to the Cœur d’Alene and Spokane tribes. The former Nez Perce reservation in the northwest part of the state was dissolved in 1895, and the Nez Perce were placed under the care of the superintendent of the Indian School at Fort Lapwai, about 12 miles east of Lewiston, in Nez Perce County. Among these tribes, the Nez Perce and Cœur d’Alene were self-sufficient; the other tribes depended on the U.S. government for 30% of their food supplies as of 1900. Of the 24,604 foreign-born residents in the state, 3,943 were from England, 2,974 were from Germany, 2,528 were Canadian English, 2,822 were from Sweden, and 1,633 were from Ireland, with various other countries represented by smaller numbers. The urban population of Idaho in 1900 (i.e. the population of places with 4,000 or more residents) was 6.2% of the total. There were thirty-three incorporated cities, towns, and villages, but only five had populations exceeding 2,000: Boise (5,957), Pocatello (4,046), Lewiston (2,425), Moscow (2,484), and Wallace (2,265). In 1906, it was estimated that the total membership of all religious groups was 74,578, including 32,425 Latter-Day Saints or Mormons (266 of the Reorganized Church), 18,057 Roman Catholics, 5,884 Methodist Episcopalians (5,313 from the Northern Church), 3,770 Presbyterians (3,698 from the Northern Church), 3,206 Disciples of Christ, and 2,374 Baptists (2,331 from the Northern Convention).

Government.—The present constitution of Idaho was adopted in 1889. The government is similar in outline to that of the other states of the United States. The executive officials serve for a term of two years. Besides being citizens of the United States and residents of the state for two years preceding their election the governor, lieutenant-governor and attorney-general must each be at least thirty years of age, and the secretary of state, state auditor, treasurer and superintendent of education must be at least twenty-five years old. The governor’s veto may be overridden by a two-thirds vote of the legislature; the governor, secretary of state, and the attorney-general constitute a Board of Pardons and a Board of State Prison Commissioners. The legislature meets biennially; its members, who must be citizens of the United States and electors of the state for one year preceding their election, are chosen biennially; the number of senators may never exceed twenty-four, that of representatives sixty; each county is entitled to at least one representative. The judiciary consists of a supreme court of three judges, elected every six years, and circuit and probate courts, the five district judges being elected every four years. Suffrage requirements are citizenship in the United States, registration and residence in the state for six months and in the county for thirty days immediately before election, but mental deficiency, conviction of infamous crimes (without restoration to rights of citizenship), bribery or attempt at bribery, bigamy, living in “what is known as patriarchal, plural or celestial marriage,” or teaching its validity or belonging to any organization which teaches polygamy,2 are disqualifications. Chinese or persons of Mongolian descent not born in the United States are also excluded from suffrage rights. Women, however, since 1897, have had the right to vote and to hold office, and they are subject to jury service. An Australian ballot law was passed in 1891. The constitution forbids the chartering of corporations except according to general laws. In 1909 a direct primary elections law was passed which required a majority of all votes to nominate, and, to make a majority possible, provided for preferential (or second-choice) voting, such votes to be canvassed and added to the first-choice vote for each candidate if there be no majority by the first-choice vote. The right of eminent domain over all corporations is reserved to the state; and no corporation may issue stock except for labour, service rendered, or money paid in. The waters of the state are, by the constitution of the state, devoted to the public use, contrary to the common law theory of riparian rights. By statute (1891) it has been provided that in civil actions three-fourths of a jury may render a verdict, and in misdemeanour cases five-sixths may give a verdict. Life insurance agents not residents of Idaho cannot write policies in the state. Divorces may be obtained after residence of six months on the ground of adultery, cruelty, desertion or neglect for one year, habitual drunkenness for the same period, felony or insanity. There are a state penitentiary at Boisé, an Industrial Training School at St Anthony, an Insane Asylum at Blackfoot, and a North Idaho Insane Asylum at Orofino. The care of all defectives was let by contract to other states until 1906, when a state school for the deaf and blind was opened in Boisé. No bureau of charities is in existence, but there is a Labor Commission, and a Commissioner of Immigration and a Commissioner of Public Lands to investigate the industrial resources. The offices of State Engineer and Inspector of Mines have been created.

Government.—The current constitution of Idaho was adopted in 1889. The government is structured similarly to that of other states in the U.S. Executive officials serve a two-year term. In addition to being U.S. citizens and residents of Idaho for two years before their election, the governor, lieutenant governor, and attorney general must each be at least thirty years old, while the secretary of state, state auditor, treasurer, and superintendent of education must be at least twenty-five. The governor's veto can be overridden by a two-thirds vote of the legislature, and the governor, secretary of state, and attorney general make up a Board of Pardons and a Board of State Prison Commissioners. The legislature meets every two years; its members, who must be U.S. citizens and voters in the state for one year before their election, are elected biennially. The number of senators cannot exceed twenty-four, and that of representatives cannot exceed sixty; each county is guaranteed at least one representative. The judiciary includes a supreme court with three judges, elected every six years, as well as circuit and probate courts, with the five district judges elected every four years. Voting requirements include U.S. citizenship, registration, and residence in Idaho for six months and in the county for thirty days immediately before the election, but those with mental disabilities, convicted of serious crimes (without restoration of citizenship rights), involved in bribery or attempted bribery, bigamy, practicing or promoting plural marriage, or being part of any organization that advocates polygamy, are disqualified. Chinese individuals or people of Mongolian descent not born in the United States are also excluded from voting rights. However, since 1897, women have had the right to vote, hold office, and serve on juries. An Australian ballot law was enacted in 1891. The constitution prohibits the chartering of corporations except according to general laws. In 1909, a direct primary elections law was implemented that required a majority of all votes to nominate candidates and allowed for preferential (or second-choice) voting, which could be counted alongside first-choice votes if there was no majority. The right of eminent domain over all corporations is reserved for the state, and no corporation can issue stock except for labor, services rendered, or money paid in. The state's waters are designated for public use by the state constitution, contrary to the common law concept of riparian rights. By statute (1891), it is mandated that in civil cases, three-fourths of a jury may reach a verdict, while five-sixths of a jury can do so in misdemeanor cases. Life insurance agents who are not residents of Idaho are prohibited from writing policies in the state. Divorces can be granted after six months of residence on the grounds of adultery, cruelty, desertion or neglect for one year, habitual drunkenness for the same duration, felony, or insanity. There is a state penitentiary in Boise, an Industrial Training School in St. Anthony, an Insane Asylum in Blackfoot, and a North Idaho Insane Asylum in Orofino. Care for all individuals with disabilities was contracted out to other states until 1906, when a state school for the deaf and blind opened in Boise. There is no bureau of charities, but there is a Labor Commission, a Commissioner of Immigration, and a Commissioner of Public Lands to explore the state's industrial resources. The positions of State Engineer and Inspector of Mines have been established.

Education.—The public schools in 1905-1906 had an enrolment of 62,726, or 81.5% of the population between 5 and 21 years of age. The average length of school term was 6-8 months, the average expenditure (year ending Aug. 31, 1906) for instruction for each child was $19.29, and the expenditure for all school purposes was $1,008,481. There was a compulsory attendance law, which, however, was not enforced. Higher education is provided by the University of Idaho, established in 1899 at Moscow, Latah county, which confers degrees in arts, science, music and engineering, and offers free tuition. In 1907-1908 the institution had 41 instructors and 426 regular and 58 special students. In 1901 the Academy of Idaho, another state institution with industrial and technical courses and a preparatory department, was established at Pocatello, Bannock county, to be a connecting link between the public schools and the university. There are two state normal schools, one at Lewiston and the other at Albion. The only private institution of college rank in 1908 was the College of Caldwell (Presbyterian, opened 1891) at Caldwell, Canyon county, with 65 students in 1906-1907. There are Catholic academies at Boisé and Cœur d’Alene and a convent, Our Lady of Lourdes, at Wallace, Shoshone county, opened in 1905; Mormon schools at Paris (Bear Lake county), Preston (Oneida county), Rexburg (Fremont county), and Oakley (Cassia county); a Methodist Episcopal school (1906) at Weiser (Washington county); and a Protestant Episcopal school at Boisé (1892). The Idaho Industrial Institute (non-denominational; incorporated in 1899) is at Weiser.

Education.—During the 1905-1906 school year, public schools had an enrollment of 62,726, which was 81.5% of the population aged 5 to 21. The average school term lasted between 6 to 8 months, and the average cost for instruction per child for the year ending August 31, 1906, was $19.29. The total expenditure for all school purposes reached $1,008,481. There was a compulsory attendance law in place, but it wasn't enforced. Higher education is offered by the University of Idaho, which was established in 1899 in Moscow, Latah County, and grants degrees in arts, science, music, and engineering, with free tuition provided. In the 1907-1908 academic year, the university employed 41 instructors and had 426 regular students along with 58 special students. The Academy of Idaho, another state institution founded in 1901 in Pocatello, Bannock County, provides industrial and technical courses and a preparatory department to bridge the gap between public schools and the university. There are two state normal schools: one in Lewiston and the other in Albion. The only private college in 1908 was the College of Caldwell (Presbyterian, established in 1891) located in Caldwell, Canyon County, which had 65 students in the 1906-1907 year. Additionally, there are Catholic academies in Boise and Coeur d’Alene, as well as a convent, Our Lady of Lourdes, in Wallace, Shoshone County, which opened in 1905. Mormon schools are found in Paris (Bear Lake County), Preston (Oneida County), Rexburg (Fremont County), and Oakley (Cassia County). There is also a Methodist Episcopal school opened in 1906 in Weiser (Washington County) and a Protestant Episcopal school in Boise established in 1892. The Idaho Industrial Institute (non-denominational; incorporated in 1899) is located in Weiser.

Finance.—The finances of Idaho are in excellent condition. The bonded debt on the 30th of September 1908 was $1,364,000. The revenue system is based on the general property tax and there is a State Board of Equalization. Each year $100,000 is set aside for the sinking fund for the payment of outstanding bonds as fast as they become due. The constitution provides that the rate of taxation shall never exceed 10 mills for each dollar of assessed valuation, that when the taxable property amounts to $50,000,000 the 279 rate shall not exceed 5 mills, when it reaches $100,000,000, 3 mills shall be the limit, and when it reaches $300,000,000 the rate shall not exceed 1½ mills; but a greater rate may be established by a vote of the people. No public debt (exclusive of the debt of the Territory of Idaho at the date of its admission to the Union as a state) may be created that exceeds 1½% of the assessed valuation (except in case of war, &c.); the state cannot lend its credit to any corporation, municipality or individual; nor can any county, city or town lend its credit or become a stockholder in any company (except for municipal works).

Finance.—Idaho's finances are in great shape. As of September 30, 1908, the bonded debt was $1,364,000. The revenue system relies on the general property tax and includes a State Board of Equalization. Every year, $100,000 is reserved for the sinking fund to pay off outstanding bonds as they come due. The constitution states that the tax rate can never exceed 10 mills for each dollar of assessed valuation. When taxable property reaches $50,000,000, the rate is capped at 5 mills; at $100,000,000, it drops to 3 mills; and at $300,000,000, it can be no more than 1½ mills. However, a higher rate can be set by a public vote. No public debt (excluding the debt of the Territory of Idaho at the time it became a state) can exceed 1½% of the assessed valuation (except in times of war, etc.); the state is not allowed to lend its credit to any corporation, municipality, or individual; and no county, city, or town can lend its credit or invest in any company (except for municipal projects).

History.—The first recorded exploration of Idaho by white men was made by Lewis and Clark, who passed along the Snake river to its junction with the Columbia; in 1805 the site of Fort Lemhi in Lemhi county was a rendezvous for two divisions of the Lewis and Clark expedition; later, the united divisions reached a village of the Nez Perce Indians near the south fork of the Clearwater river, where they found traces of visits by other white men. In 1810 Fort Henry, on the Snake river, was established by the Missouri Fur Company, and in the following year a party under the auspices of the Pacific Fur Company descended the Snake river to the Columbia. In 1834 Fort Hall in E. Idaho (Bingham county) was founded. It acquired prominence as the meeting-point of a number of trails to the extreme western parts of North America. Missions to the Indians were also established, both by the Catholics and by the Protestants. But the permanent settlements date from the revelation of Idaho’s mineral resources in 1860, when the Cœur d’Alene, Palouses and Nez Perces were in the North, and the Blackfoots, Bannocks and Shoshones in the South. While trading with these Indians, Capt. Pierce learned in the summer of 1860 that there was gold in Idaho. He found it on Orofino Creek, and a great influx followed—coming to Orofino, Newsome, Elk City, Florence, where the ore was especially rich, and Warren. The news of the discovery of the Boisé Basin spread far and wide, and Idaho City, Placerville, Buena Vista, Centreville and Pioneerville grew up. The territory now constituting Idaho was comprised in the Territory of Oregon from 1848 to 1853; from 1853 to 1859 the southern portion of the present state was a part of Oregon, the northern a part of Washington Territory; from 1859 to 1863 the territory was within the bounds of Washington Territory. In 1863 the Territory of Idaho was organized; it included Montana until 1864, and a part of Wyoming until 1868, when the area of the Territory of Idaho was practically the same as that of the present state. Idaho was admitted into the Union as a state in 1890. There have been a few serious Indian outbreaks in Idaho. In 1856 the Cœur d’Alenes, Palouses and Spokanes went on the war-path; in April 1857 they put to flight a small force under Col. Edward Tenner Steptoe; but the punitive expedition led by Col. George Wright (1803-1865) was a success. In 1877 the Nez Perces, led by Chief Joseph, refused to go on the reservation set apart for them, defeated a small body of regulars, were pursued by Major-General O. O. Howard, reinforced by frontier volunteers, and in September and October were defeated and retreated into Northern Montana, where they were captured by Major-General Nelson A. Miles. Occasional labour troubles have been very severe in the Cœur d’Alene region, where the attempt in 1892 of the Mine Owners’ Association to discriminate in wages between miners and surfacemen brought on a union strike. Rioting followed the introduction of non-union men, the Frisco Mill was blown up, and many non-union miners were killed. The militia was called out and regular troops were hurried to Shoshone county from Fort Sherman, Idaho and Fort Missoula, Montana. These soon quieted the district. But the restlessness of the region caused more trouble in 1899. The famous Bunker Hill and Sullivan mines were wrecked, late in April, by union men. Federal troops, called for by Governor Frank Steunenberg, again took charge, and about 800 suspected men in the district were arrested and shut up in a stockade known as the “bull-pen.” Ten prisoners, convicted of destroying the property of the mine-owners, were sentenced to twenty-two months in jail. The feeling among the union men was bitter against Steunenberg, who was assassinated on the 30th of December 1905. The trial in 1907 of Charles H. Haywood, secretary of the Western Federation of Miners, who was charged with conspiracy in connexion with the murder, attracted national attention; it resulted in Haywood’s acquittal. Before 1897 the administration of the state was controlled by the Republican party; but in 1896 Democrats, Populists and those Republicans who believed in free coinage of silver united, and until 1902 elected a majority of all candidates for state offices. In 1902, 1904, 1906 and 1908 a Republican state ticket was elected.

History.—The first recorded exploration of Idaho by white men was conducted by Lewis and Clark, who traveled along the Snake River to where it meets the Columbia. In 1805, the site of Fort Lemhi in Lemhi County served as a meeting place for two divisions of the Lewis and Clark expedition. Eventually, the united groups reached a village of the Nez Perce Indians near the south fork of the Clearwater River, where they discovered signs of previous visits by other white men. In 1810, the Missouri Fur Company established Fort Henry on the Snake River, and the following year, a group sponsored by the Pacific Fur Company traveled down the Snake River to the Columbia. In 1834, Fort Hall was founded in E. Idaho (Bingham County), becoming an important hub for various trails leading to the far western regions of North America. Missionaries were also established to work with the Indians, both by Catholic and Protestant groups. However, permanent settlements began only after the discovery of Idaho’s mineral resources in 1860, when the Cœur d’Alene, Palouse, and Nez Perce tribes were in the north, and the Blackfoot, Bannock, and Shoshone tribes were in the south. While trading with these tribes, Captain Pierce learned in the summer of 1860 that there was gold in Idaho. He found it on Orofino Creek, leading to a massive influx of people heading to Orofino, Newsome, Elk City, Florence, where the ore was particularly rich, and Warren. The news of the discovery in the Boise Basin spread quickly, resulting in the growth of Idaho City, Placerville, Buena Vista, Centreville, and Pioneerville. The area that is now Idaho was part of the Territory of Oregon from 1848 to 1853; from 1853 to 1859, the southern part of what is now the state belonged to Oregon, and the northern part was part of Washington Territory; from 1859 to 1863, it was entirely within the bounds of Washington Territory. In 1863, the Territory of Idaho was organized; it included Montana until 1864 and a part of Wyoming until 1868, when the Territory of Idaho’s area closely matched that of the present state. Idaho became a state in the Union in 1890. There have been a few significant Indian conflicts in Idaho. In 1856, the Cœur d'Alenes, Palouses, and Spokanes took up arms; in April 1857, they forced a small group led by Colonel Edward Tenner Steptoe to retreat. However, the punitive expedition led by Colonel George Wright (1803-1865) succeeded. In 1877, the Nez Perce, under Chief Joseph, refused to relocate to the designated reservation, defeated a small body of regular troops, and were eventually pursued by Major-General O. O. Howard and additional frontier volunteers. In September and October, they were defeated and retreated into Northern Montana, where they were captured by Major-General Nelson A. Miles. There have been some serious labor disputes in the Cœur d’Alene region, particularly in 1892, when the Mine Owners’ Association tried to pay miners and surface workers differently, leading to a union strike. Rioting ensued after non-union workers were brought in, resulting in the blowing up of the Frisco Mill and the deaths of many non-union miners. The militia was called in, and regular troops were sent to Shoshone County from Fort Sherman, Idaho, and Fort Missoula, Montana. They quickly restored order. However, discontent in the region caused further issues in 1899 when the Bunker Hill and Sullivan mines were damaged by union workers in late April. Federal troops, requested by Governor Frank Steunenberg, once again took control, leading to the arrest of around 800 suspected individuals in the area, who were held in a stockade known as the "bull-pen." Ten prisoners found guilty of damaging mine owners' property received sentences of twenty-two months in jail. Union workers harbored deep resentment towards Steunenberg, who was assassinated on December 30, 1905. The 1907 trial of Charles H. Haywood, secretary of the Western Federation of Miners, charged with conspiracy related to the murder, garnered national attention and ended in his acquittal. Before 1897, the state government was controlled by the Republican Party; however, in 1896, Democrats, Populists, and some Republicans who supported the free coinage of silver united and elected a majority of state officeholders until 1902. The Republican Party regained power in 1902, 1904, 1906, and 1908, electing a state ticket each time.

Governors
Territorial.
William H. Wallace 1863
W. B. Daniels, Secretary, Acting Governor 1863-1864
Caleb Lyon 1864-1865
C. de Witt Smith, Secretary, Acting Governor 1865
Horace C. Gilson    ”      ” 1865-1866
S. R. Howlett      ”      ” 1866
David W. Ballard 1866-1870
E. J. Curtis, Acting Governor 1870
Thomas W. Bennett 1871-1875
D. P. Thompson 1875-1876
Mason Brayman 1876-1880
John B. Neil 1880-1883
John N. Irwin 1883-1884
William M. Bunn 1884-1885
Edward A. Stevenson 1885-1889
George L. Shoup 1889-1890
State Governors
George L. Shoup,3 Republican 1890
Norman B. Wiley, Acting Governor 1890-1892
William J. McConnell, Republican 1893-1897
Frank Steunenberg, Democrat Populist 1897-1901
Frank W. Hunt,     ”     ” 1901-1903
John T. Morrison, Republican 1903-1905
Frank R. Gooding,    ” 1905-1909
James H. Brady,     ” 1909-  

Bibliography.—The physical features and economic resources of Idaho are discussed in J. L. Onderdonk’s Idaho: Facts and Statistics (San Francisco, 1885), Israel C. Russell’s “Geology and Water Resources of the Snake River Plains of Idaho,” U.S. Geological Survey, Bulletin 199 (Washington, 1902), The State of Idaho (a pamphlet issued by the State Commissioner of Immigration), Waldmor Lindgren’s “Gold and Silver Veins of Silver City, De Lamar and other Mining Districts of Idaho,” U.S. Geological Survey, 20th Annual Report (Washington, 1900), and “The Mining Districts of the Idaho Basin and the Boisé Ridge, Idaho,” U.S. Geological Survey, 18th Annual Report (Washington, 1898). These reports should be supplemented by the information contained elsewhere in the publications of the Geological Survey (see the Indexes of the survey) and in various volumes of the United States Census. W. B. Hepburn’s Idaho Laws and Decisions, Annotated and Digested (Boisé, 1900), and H. H. Bancroft’s Washington, Idaho, and Montana (San Francisco, 1890) are the principal authorities for administration and history. The reports of the state’s various executive officers should be consulted also.

References.—The physical features and economic resources of Idaho are covered in J. L. Onderdonk’s Idaho: Facts and Statistics (San Francisco, 1885), Israel C. Russell’s “Geology and Water Resources of the Snake River Plains of Idaho,” U.S. Geological Survey, Bulletin 199 (Washington, 1902), The State of Idaho (a pamphlet issued by the State Commissioner of Immigration), Waldmor Lindgren’s “Gold and Silver Veins of Silver City, De Lamar and other Mining Districts of Idaho,” U.S. Geological Survey, 20th Annual Report (Washington, 1900), and “The Mining Districts of the Idaho Basin and the Boisé Ridge, Idaho,” U.S. Geological Survey, 18th Annual Report (Washington, 1898). These reports should be complemented by information found in other publications from the Geological Survey (see the Indexes of the survey) and various volumes of the United States Census. W. B. Hepburn’s Idaho Laws and Decisions, Annotated and Digested (Boisé, 1900), and H. H. Bancroft’s Washington, Idaho, and Montana (San Francisco, 1890) are key references for administration and history. It's also important to review the reports from the state’s different executive officers.


1 Of these 80,000 acres are reached directly—72,000 N., and 8000 S. of the Snake river; and from 50,000 to 70,000 acres more are above the level of the canals and will have water pumped to them by the 11,000-30,000 h.p. developed.

1 Out of these 80,000 acres, 72,000 acres are located north of the Snake River, and 8,000 acres are to the south. Additionally, between 50,000 and 70,000 more acres are situated above the level of the canals and will receive water pumped from the 11,000 to 30,000 horsepower developed.

2 This disqualification and much other legislation were due to the large Mormon population in Idaho. In 1884-1885 all county and precinct officers were required to take a test oath abjuring bigamy, polygamy, or celestial marriage; and under this law in 1888 three members of the territorial legislature were deprived of their seats as ineligible. An act of 1889, when the Mormons constituted over 20% of the population, forbade in the case of any who had since the 1st of January 1888 practised, taught, aided or encouraged polygamy or bigamy, their registration or voting until two years after they had taken a test oath renouncing such practices, and until they had satisfied the District Court that in the two years preceding they had been guilty of no such practices. The Constitutional Convention which met at Boisé in July-August 1889 was strongly anti-Mormon, and the Constitution it framed was approved by a popular vote of 12,398 out of 14,184. The United States Supreme Court decided the anti-Mormon legislation case of Davis v. Beason in favour of the Idaho legislature. In 1893 the disqualification was made no longer retroactive, the two-year clause was omitted, and the test oath covered only present renunciation of polygamy.

2 This disqualification and much of the legislation stemmed from the large Mormon population in Idaho. In 1884-1885, all county and precinct officials had to take a test oath rejecting bigamy, polygamy, or celestial marriage; because of this law, in 1888, three members of the territorial legislature lost their seats for being ineligible. An act passed in 1889, when Mormons made up over 20% of the population, prohibited anyone who had practiced, taught, helped, or encouraged polygamy or bigamy since January 1, 1888 from registering or voting until two years after they took a test oath renouncing such practices, and until they proved to the District Court that they hadn’t engaged in those practices in the two years prior. The Constitutional Convention that took place in Boise in July-August 1889 was strongly anti-Mormon, and the Constitution it drafted was approved by a popular vote of 12,398 out of 14,184. The United States Supreme Court ruled in the anti-Mormon case of Davis v. Beason in favor of the Idaho legislature. In 1893, the disqualification was no longer applied retroactively, the two-year clause was removed, and the test oath only required a current renunciation of polygamy.

3 Governor Shoup resigned in December to take his seat in the U.S. Senate.

3 Governor Shoup stepped down in December to join the U.S. Senate.


IDAR, or Edar, a native state of India, forming part of the Mahi Kantha agency, within the Gujarat division of Bombay. It has an area of 1669 sq. m., and a population (1901) of 168,557, showing a decrease of 44% in the decade as the result of famine. Estimated gross revenue, £29,000; tribute to the gaekwar of Baroda, £2000. In 1901 the raja and his posthumous son both died, and the succession devolved upon Sir Pertab Singh (q.v.) of Jodhpur. The line of railway from Ahmedabad through Parantij runs mainly through this state. Much of the territory is held by kinsmen of the raja on feudal tenure. The products are grain, oil-seeds and sugar-cane. The town of Idar is 64 m. N.E. of Ahmedabad. Pop. (1901) 7085. It was formerly the capital, but Ahmednagar (pop. 3200) is the present capital.

IDAR, or Edar, is a state in India that's part of the Mahi Kantha agency within the Gujarat division of Bombay. It covers an area of 1669 sq. miles and had a population of 168,557 in 1901, which reflects a 44% decline over the past decade due to famine. The estimated gross revenue is £29,000, with a tribute of £2,000 paid to the gaekwar of Baroda. In 1901, both the raja and his son, who was born after his death, passed away, and the succession went to Sir Pertab Singh (q.v.) of Jodhpur. The railway line from Ahmedabad via Parantij primarily runs through this state. Much of the land is held by relatives of the raja under feudal tenure. The main products are grains, oilseeds, and sugarcane. The town of Idar is located 64 miles northeast of Ahmedabad, with a population of 7,085 in 1901. Idar used to be the capital, but Ahmednagar (pop. 3,200) is now the current capital.


IDAS, in Greek legend, son of Aphareus of the royal house of Messene, brother of Lynceus. He is only mentioned in a single passage in Homer (Iliad, ix. 556 sqq.), where he is called the strongest of men on earth. He carried off Marpessa, daughter of Evenus, as his wife and dared to bend his bow against Apollo, who was also her suitor. Zeus intervened, and left the choice to Marpessa, who declared in favour of Idas, fearing that the god might desert her when she grew old (Apollodorus i. 7). The Apharetidae are best known for their fight with the Dioscuri. 280 A quarrel had arisen about the division of a herd of cattle which the four had stolen. Idas claimed the whole of the booty as the victor in a contest of eating, and drove the cattle off to Messene. The Dioscuri overtook him and lay in wait in a hollow oak. But Lynceus, whose keenness of sight was proverbial, saw Castor through the trunk and warned his brother, who thereupon slew the mortal Castor; finally, Pollux slew Lynceus, and Idas was struck by lightning (Apollodorus iii. 11; Pindar, Nem., x. 60; Pausanias iv. 3. 1). According to others, the Dioscuri had carried off the daughters of Leucippus, who had been betrothed to the Apharetidae (Ovid, Fasti, v. 699; Theocritus xxii. 137). The scene of the combat is placed near the grave of Aphareus at Messene, at Aphidna in Attica, or in Laconia; and there are other variations of detail in the accounts (see also Hyginus, Fab. 80). Idas and Lynceus were originally gods of light, probably the sun and moon, the herd of cattle (for the possession of which they strove with the Dioscuri) representing the heavenly bodies. The annihilation of the Apharetidae in the legend indicates the subordinate position held by the Messenians after the loss of their independence and subjugation by Sparta, the Dioscuri being distinctly Spartan, as the Apharetidae were Messenian heroes. The grave of Idas and Lynceus was shown at Sparta, according to Pausanias (iii. 13. 1), whose own opinion, however, is that they were buried in Messenia. On the chest of Cypselus, Marpessa is represented as following Idas from the temple of Apollo (by whom, according to some, she had been carried off), and there was a painting by Polygnotus of the rape of the Leucippidae in the temple of the Dioscuri at Athens.

IDAS, in Greek mythology, son of Aphareus from the royal lineage of Messene, brother of Lynceus. He is mentioned only once in Homer (Iliad, ix. 556 sqq.), where he's described as the strongest man on earth. He took Marpessa, the daughter of Evenus, as his wife and boldly challenged Apollo, who was also vying for her affection. Zeus intervened and allowed Marpessa to choose, and she picked Idas, worried that the god would abandon her when she got older (Apollodorus i. 7). The Apharetidae are most famous for their battle with the Dioscuri. 280 A dispute had arisen over the division of a herd of stolen cattle. Idas claimed all the spoils as the winner in an eating contest and took the cattle back to Messene. The Dioscuri caught up with him and lay in ambush in a hollow oak tree. But Lynceus, known for his exceptional eyesight, spotted Castor through the trunk and warned his brother, who then killed the mortal Castor; ultimately, Pollux killed Lynceus, and Idas was struck down by lightning (Apollodorus iii. 11; Pindar, Nem., x. 60; Pausanias iv. 3. 1). In other accounts, the Dioscuri had abducted the daughters of Leucippus, who were engaged to the Apharetidae (Ovid, Fasti, v. 699; Theocritus xxii. 137). The battlefield is said to be near the tomb of Aphareus in Messene, at Aphidna in Attica, or in Laconia; there are various details across different narratives (see also Hyginus, Fab. 80). Idas and Lynceus were originally deities of light, likely representing the sun and moon, with the herd of cattle (for which they fought the Dioscuri) symbolizing celestial bodies. Their downfall in the tale reflects the diminished status of the Messenians after losing their independence and being subjugated by Sparta, with the Dioscuri clearly representing Sparta, while the Apharetidae were Messenian heroes. According to Pausanias (iii. 13. 1), the grave of Idas and Lynceus was shown in Sparta, but he believes they were actually buried in Messenia. On the chest of Cypselus, Marpessa is depicted following Idas from the temple of Apollo (from whom, according to some, she had been abducted), and there was a painting by Polygnotus of the abduction of the Leucippidae in the Dioscuri's temple in Athens.

In the article Greek Art, fig. 66 (Pl. iv.) represents Idas and the Dioscuri driving off cattle.

In the article Greek Art, fig. 66 (Pl. iv.) shows Idas and the Dioscuri rounding up cattle.


IDDESLEIGH, STAFFORD HENRY NORTHCOTE, 1st Earl of (1818-1887), British statesman, was born in London, on the 27th of October 1818. His ancestors had long been settled in Devonshire, their pedigree, according to Burke, being traceable to the beginning of the 12th century. After a successful career at Balliol College, Oxford, he became in 1843 private secretary to Mr Gladstone at the board of trade. He was afterwards legal secretary to the board; and after acting as one of the secretaries to the Great Exhibition of 1851, co-operated with Sir Charles Trevelyan in framing the report which revolutionized the conditions of appointment to the Civil Service. He succeeded his grandfather, Sir Stafford Henry Northcote, as 8th baronet in 1851. He entered Parliament in 1855 as Conservative M.P. for Dudley, and was elected for Stamford in 1858, a seat which he exchanged in 1866 for North Devon. Steadily supporting his party, he became president of the board of trade in 1866, secretary of state for India in 1867, and chancellor of the exchequer in 1874. In the interval between these last two appointments he had been one of the commissioners for the settlement of the “Alabama” difficulty with the United States, and on Mr Disraeli’s elevation to the House of Lords in 1876 he became leader of the Conservative party in the Commons. As a finance minister he was largely dominated by the lines of policy laid down by Mr Gladstone; but he distinguished himself by his dealings with the Debt, especially his introduction of the New Sinking Fund (1876), by which he fixed the annual charge for the Debt in such a way as to provide for a regular series of payments off the capital. His temper as leader was, however, too gentle to satisfy the more ardent spirits among his own followers, and party cabals (in which Lord Randolph Churchill—who had made a dead set at the “old gang,” and especially Sir Stafford Northcote—took a leading part) led to Sir Stafford’s transfer to the Lords in 1885, when Lord Salisbury became prime minister. Taking the titles of earl of Iddesleigh and Viscount St Cyres, he was included in the cabinet as first lord of the treasury. In Lord Salisbury’s 1886 ministry he became secretary of state for foreign affairs, but the arrangement was not a comfortable one, and his resignation had just been decided upon when on the 12th of January 1887 he died very suddenly at Lord Salisbury’s official residence in Downing Street. Lord Iddesleigh was elected lord rector of Edinburgh University in 1883, in which capacity he addressed the students on the subject of “Desultory Reading.” He had little leisure for letters, but amongst his works were Twenty Years of Financial Policy (1862), a valuable study of Gladstonian finance, and Lectures and Essays (1887). His Life by Andrew Lang appeared in 1890. Lord Iddesleigh married in 1843 Cecilia Frances Farrer (d. 1910) (sister of Thomas, 1st Lord Farrer), by whom he had seven sons and three daughters.

IDDESLEIGH, STAFFORD HENRY NORTHCOTE, 1st Earl of (1818-1887), British politician, was born in London on October 27, 1818. His family had been living in Devonshire for a long time, and according to Burke, his lineage can be traced back to the early 12th century. After a successful career at Balliol College, Oxford, he became private secretary to Mr. Gladstone at the Board of Trade in 1843. He later served as legal secretary for the board and, after working as one of the secretaries for the Great Exhibition of 1851, collaborated with Sir Charles Trevelyan on a report that transformed the Civil Service appointment process. He took over as the 8th baronet from his grandfather, Sir Stafford Henry Northcote, in 1851. He entered Parliament in 1855 as a Conservative MP for Dudley and was elected for Stamford in 1858, a position he swapped in 1866 for North Devon. Consistently backing his party, he became president of the Board of Trade in 1866, secretary of state for India in 1867, and chancellor of the exchequer in 1874. Between his last two appointments, he served as one of the commissioners handling the “Alabama” issue with the United States, and when Mr. Disraeli moved to the House of Lords in 1876, he became the leader of the Conservative party in the Commons. As a finance minister, he primarily followed the policy guidelines established by Mr. Gladstone, but he made his mark by managing the Debt, notably introducing the New Sinking Fund (1876), which set the annual Debt charge to ensure regular principal repayments. However, his leadership style was too mild for the more passionate members of his party, and internal party factions (led by Lord Randolph Churchill, who had targeted the “old gang,” particularly Sir Stafford Northcote) resulted in Sir Stafford moving to the Lords in 1885 when Lord Salisbury became prime minister. Taking the titles of earl of Iddesleigh and Viscount St Cyres, he was included in the cabinet as first lord of the treasury. During Lord Salisbury’s 1886 government, he became secretary of state for foreign affairs, but this arrangement was uncomfortable, and he had decided to resign when he unexpectedly died on January 12, 1887, at Lord Salisbury’s official residence in Downing Street. Lord Iddesleigh was elected lord rector of Edinburgh University in 1883, where he spoke to students on “Desultory Reading.” He had little time for writing, but among his works were Twenty Years of Financial Policy (1862), a significant analysis of Gladstonian finance, and Lectures and Essays (1887). His Life by Andrew Lang was published in 1890. Lord Iddesleigh married Cecilia Frances Farrer (d. 1910), sister of Thomas, 1st Lord Farrer, in 1843, and they had seven sons and three daughters.

He was succeeded as 2nd earl by his eldest son, Walter Stafford Northcote (1845-  ), who for some years was his father’s private secretary. He was chairman of the Inland Revenue Board from 1877 to 1892; and is also known as a novelist. His eldest son Stafford Henry Northcote, Viscount St Cyres (1869-  ), was educated at Eton and Merton College Oxford. After taking a 1st class in History, he was elected a senior student of Christ Church, where he resided for a while as tutor and lecturer. His interest in the development of religious thought led him to devote himself specially to the history of the Roman Catholic Church in the 17th century, the first-fruits of which was his François de Fénelon (London, 1901); eight years later he published his Pascal (ib. 1909).

He was succeeded as the 2nd Earl by his oldest son, Walter Stafford Northcote (1845-  ), who worked as his father's private secretary for several years. He served as the chairman of the Inland Revenue Board from 1877 to 1892 and is also recognized as a novelist. His oldest son Stafford Henry Northcote, Viscount St Cyres (1869-  ), was educated at Eton and Merton College, Oxford. After graduating with a 1st class degree in History, he was elected a senior student at Christ Church, where he lived for a time as a tutor and lecturer. His interest in the development of religious thought led him to focus specifically on the history of the Roman Catholic Church in the 17th century, the first result of which was his book François de Fénelon (London, 1901); eight years later, he published Pascal (ib. 1909).

The second son of the 1st earl of Iddesleigh, Stafford Henry Northcote, 1st Baron Northcote (b. 1846), was educated at Eton and at Merton College, Oxford. He became a clerk in the foreign office in 1868, acted as private secretary to Lord Salisbury, and was attached to the embassy at Constantinople from 1876 to 1877. From 1877 to 1880 he was secretary to the chancellor of the exchequer, was financial secretary to the war office from 1885 to 1886, surveyor-general of ordnance, 1886 to 1887, and charity commissioner, 1891 to 1892. In 1887 he was created a baronet. In 1880 he was elected M.P. for Exeter as a Conservative, and retained the seat until 1899, when he was appointed governor of Bombay (1899-1903), being created a peer in 1900. Lord Northcote was appointed governor-general of the Commonwealth of Australia in 1903, and held this post till 1908. He married in 1873 Alice, adopted daughter of the 1st Lord Mount Stephen.

The second son of the 1st Earl of Iddesleigh, Stafford Henry Northcote, 1st Baron Northcote (b. 1846), was educated at Eton and Merton College, Oxford. He started working as a clerk in the Foreign Office in 1868, served as private secretary to Lord Salisbury, and was assigned to the embassy in Constantinople from 1876 to 1877. From 1877 to 1880, he was the secretary to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, financial secretary to the War Office from 1885 to 1886, surveyor-general of ordnance from 1886 to 1887, and a charity commissioner from 1891 to 1892. In 1887, he was made a baronet. In 1880, he was elected as an M.P. for Exeter as a Conservative, keeping the seat until 1899, when he was appointed governor of Bombay (1899-1903) and became a peer in 1900. Lord Northcote was appointed governor-general of the Commonwealth of Australia in 1903, serving in that role until 1908. He married Alice, the adopted daughter of the 1st Lord Mount Stephen, in 1873.


IDEA (Gr. ἰδέα, connected with ἰδεῖν, to see; cf. Lat. species from specere, to look at), a term used both popularly and in philosophical terminology with the general sense of “mental picture.” To have no idea how a thing happened is to be without a mental picture of an occurrence. In this general sense it is synonymous with concept (q.v.) in its popular usage. In philosophy the term “idea” is common to all languages and periods, but there is scarcely any term which has been used with so many different shades of meaning. Plato used it in the sphere of metaphysics for the eternally existing reality, the archetype, of which the objects of sense are more or less imperfect copies. Chairs may be of different forms, sizes, colours and so forth, but “laid up in the mind of God” there is the one permanent idea or type, of which the many physical chairs are derived with various degrees of imperfection. From this doctrine it follows that these ideas are the sole reality (see further Idealism); in opposition to it are the empirical thinkers of all time who find reality in particular physical objects (see Hylozoism, Empiricism, &c.). In striking contrast to Plato’s use is that of John Locke, who defines “idea” as “whatever is the object of understanding when a man thinks” (Essay on the Human Understanding (I.), vi. 8). Here the term is applied not to the mental process, but to anything whether physical or intellectual which is the object of it. Hume differs from Locke by limiting “idea” to the more or less vague mental reconstructions of perceptions, the perceptual process being described as an “impression.” Wundt widens the term to include “conscious representation of some object or process of the external world.” In so doing he includes not only ideas of memory and imagination, but also perceptual processes, whereas other psychologists confine the term to the first two groups. G. F. Stout and J. M. Baldwin, in the Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology, i. 498, define “idea” as “the reproduction with a more or less adequate image, of an object not actually present to the senses.” They point out that an idea 281 and a perception are by various authorities contrasted in various ways. “Difference in degree of intensity,” “comparative absence of bodily movement on the part of the subject,” “comparative dependence on mental activity,” are suggested by psychologists as characteristic of an idea as compared with a perception.

IDEA (Gr. idea, related to to see, to see; cf. Lat. species from specere, to look at), a term used in everyday language and philosophical discussions, generally meaning “mental picture.” Not knowing how something happened means you lack a mental picture of that event. In this broad sense, it is synonymous with concept (q.v.) in everyday usage. While the term “idea” is common across languages and eras in philosophy, few terms have as many different interpretations. Plato used it in metaphysics to describe the eternally existing reality, the archetype, of which sensory objects are imperfect copies. Chairs may have various shapes, sizes, and colors, but there is one permanent idea or type in the mind of God, from which the many physical chairs derive with varying degrees of imperfection. This doctrine implies that these ideas represent the only reality (see further Idealism); in contrast to this view are empirical thinkers who find reality in specific physical objects (see Hylozoism, Empiricism, & c.). In marked contrast to Plato’s definition is John Locke’s, who defines “idea” as “whatever is the object of understanding when a man thinks” (Essay on the Human Understanding (I.), vi. 8). In this context, the term refers not to the mental process, but to anything—whether physical or intellectual—that is the focus of that process. Hume differs from Locke by restricting “idea” to the more or less vague mental reconstructions of perceptions, referring to the perceptual process as an “impression.” Wundt expands the term to encompass “conscious representation of some object or process of the external world.” By doing this, he includes not only ideas from memory and imagination but also perceptual processes, whereas other psychologists limit the term to the first two categories. G. F. Stout and J. M. Baldwin, in the Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology, i. 498, define “idea” as “the reproduction with a more or less adequate image, of an object not actually present to the senses.” They note that an idea 281 and a perception are compared in various ways by different authorities. Psychologists suggest that “difference in degree of intensity,” “comparative absence of bodily movement on the part of the subject,” and “comparative dependence on mental activity” are distinguishing features of an idea compared to a perception.

It should be observed that an idea, in the narrower and generally accepted sense of a mental reproduction, is frequently composite. That is, as in the example given above of the idea of chair, a great many objects, differing materially in detail, all call a single idea. When a man, for example, has obtained an idea of chairs in general by comparison with which he can say “This is a chair, that is a stool,” he has what is known as an “abstract idea” distinct from the reproduction in his mind of any particular chair (see Abstraction). Furthermore a complex idea may not have any corresponding physical object, though its particular constituent elements may severally be the reproductions of actual perceptions. Thus the idea of a centaur is a complex mental picture composed of the ideas of man and horse, that of a mermaid of a woman and a fish.

It should be noted that an idea, in the more specific and commonly accepted sense of a mental reproduction, is often made up of multiple parts. For example, as mentioned earlier with the idea of a chair, many items that differ significantly in detail all fall under that single concept. When someone has developed a general idea of chairs that allows them to say, “This is a chair, that is a stool,” they possess what’s called an “abstract idea,” which is different from the mental image of any specific chair (see Abstraction). Moreover, a complex idea may not correspond to any physical object, even though its individual components can each be based on actual perceptions. For instance, the idea of a centaur is a complex mental image made up of the ideas of a man and a horse, while a mermaid combines the concepts of a woman and a fish.


IDEALISM (from Gr. ἰδέα, archetype or model, through Fr. idéalisme), a term generally used for the attitude of mind which is prone to represent things in an imaginative light and to lay emphasis exclusively or primarily on abstract perfection (i.e. in “ideals”). With this meaning the philosophical use of the term has little in common.

IDEALISM (from Gr. idea, meaning archetype or model, through Fr. idéalisme), is a term typically used to describe a mindset that is inclined to view things in a creative way and focuses mainly or solely on abstract perfection (i.e. in “ideals”). In this sense, its philosophical usage has little connection.

To understand the philosophical theory that has come to be known under this title, we may ask (1) what in general it is and how it is differentiated from other theories of knowledge and reality, (2) how it has risen in the history of philosophy, (3) what position it occupies at present in the world of speculation.

To understand the philosophical theory that is now known by this name, we can ask (1) what it generally is and how it differs from other theories of knowledge and reality, (2) how it developed in the history of philosophy, (3) what role it plays today in the realm of thought.

1. General Definition of Idealism.—Idealism as a philosophical doctrine conceives of knowledge or experience as a process in which the two factors of subject and object stand in a relation of entire interdependence on each other as warp and woof. Apart from the activity of the self or subject in sensory reaction, memory and association, imagination, judgment and inference, there can be no world of objects. A thing-in-itself which is not a thing to some consciousness is an entirely unrealizable, because self-contradictory, conception. But this is only one side of the truth. It is equally true that a subject apart from an object is unintelligible. As the object exists through the constructive activity of the subject, so the subject lives in the construction of the object. To seek for the true self in any region into which its opposite in the form of a not-self does not enter is to grasp a shadow. It is in seeking to realize its own ideas in the world of knowledge, feeling and action that the mind comes into possession of itself; it is in becoming permeated and transformed by the mind’s ideas that the world develops the fullness of its reality as object.

1. General Definition of Idealism.—Idealism, as a philosophical belief, views knowledge or experience as a process where the subject and object are completely dependent on each other, like the threads of a fabric. Without the self or subject actively engaging in sensory perception, memory, association, imagination, judgment, and inference, there can't be a world of objects. A thing-in-itself that isn't recognized by any consciousness is an entirely unachievable and self-contradictory idea. However, this is just one aspect of the truth. It's equally true that a subject without an object is meaningless. Just as the object comes into being through the subject's constructive activity, the subject exists within the context of the object's creation. Trying to find the true self in any area where its opposite, the not-self, doesn't exist is like trying to catch a shadow. It is through striving to realize its own ideas in the realms of knowledge, feeling, and action that the mind gains self-awareness; it is by being influenced and transformed by the mind's ideas that the world achieves its full reality as an object.

Thus defined, idealism is opposed to ordinary common-sense dualism, which regards knowledge or experience as the result of the more or less accidental relation between two separate and independent entities—the mind and its ideas on one side, the thing with its attributes on the other—that serve to limit and condition each other from without. It is equally opposed to the doctrine which represents the subject itself and its state and judgments as the single immediate datum of consciousness, and all else, whether the objects of an external world or person other than the individual subject whose states are known to itself, as having a merely problematic existence resting upon analogy or other process of indirect inference. This theory is sometimes known as idealism. But it falls short of idealism as above defined in that it recognizes only one side of the antithesis of subject and object, and so falls short of the doctrine which takes its stand on the complete correlativity of the two factors in experience. It is for this reason that it is sometimes known as subjective or incomplete idealism. Finally the theory defined is opposed to all forms of realism, whether in the older form which sought to reduce mind to a function of matter, or in any of the newer forms which seek for the ultimate essence of both mind and matter in some unknown force or energy which, while in itself it is neither, yet contains the potentiality of both. It is true that in some modern developments of idealism the ultimate reality is conceived of in an impersonal way, but it is usually added that this ultimate or absolute being is not something lower but higher than self-conscious personality, including it as a more fully developed form may be said to include a more elementary.

Thus defined, idealism is opposed to basic common-sense dualism, which views knowledge or experience as the result of a more or less random relationship between two separate and independent entities—the mind and its ideas on one side, and the object with its attributes on the other—that limit and condition each other from the outside. It also contrasts with the belief that sees the subject itself, along with its state and judgments, as the sole immediate reality of consciousness, while everything else, whether external world objects or individuals other than the one whose states are known to it, is viewed as having a mere questionable existence based on analogy or some indirect reasoning. This belief is sometimes called idealism. However, it falls short of the idealism defined earlier because it acknowledges only one side of the subject-object relationship, thus lacking the doctrine that stands on the complete interdependence of the two factors in experience. For this reason, it is sometimes referred to as subjective or incomplete idealism. Finally, this theory is opposed to all forms of realism, whether in the older versions that aimed to reduce the mind to a function of matter, or in any of the newer versions that search for the ultimate essence of both mind and matter in some unknown force or energy which, while not itself either, has the potential for both. It's true that some modern interpretations of idealism think of ultimate reality in an impersonal way, but it’s usually pointed out that this ultimate or absolute being is something higher than self-conscious personality, encompassing it as a more fully developed form may include a more basic one.

2. Origin and Development of Idealism.—In its self-conscious form idealism is a modern doctrine. In it the self or subject may be said to have come to its rights. This was possible in any complete sense only after the introspective movement represented by the middle ages had done its work, and the thought of the individual mind and will as possessed of relative independence had worked itself out into some degree of clearness. In this respect Descartes’ dictum—cogito ergo sum—may be said to have struck the keynote of modern philosophy, and all subsequent speculation to have been merely a prolonged commentary upon it. While in its completer form it is thus a doctrine distinctive of modern times, idealism has its roots far back in the history of thought. One of the chief proofs that has been urged of the truth of its point of view is the persistency with which it has always asserted itself at a certain stage in philosophical reflection and as the solution of certain recurrent speculative difficulties. All thought starts from the ordinary dualism or pluralism which conceives of the world as consisting of the juxtaposition of mutually independent things and persons. The first movement is in the direction of dispelling this appearance of independence. They are seen to be united under the relation of cause and effect, determining and determined, which turns out to mean that they are merely passing manifestations of some single entity or energy which constitutes the real unknown essence of the things that come before our knowledge. In the pantheism that thus takes the place of the old dualism there seems no place left for the individual. Mind and will in their individual manifestations fade into the general background of appearance without significance except as a link in a fated chain. Deliverance from the pantheistic conception of the universe comes through the recognition of the central place occupied by thought and purpose in the actual world, and, as a consequence of this, of the illegitimacy of the abstraction whereby material energy is taken for the ultimate reality.

2. Origin and Development of Idealism.—In its self-aware form, idealism is a modern philosophy. In it, the self or subject has gained its rightful place. This was only possible after the introspective movement of the Middle Ages had done its job, and the idea of the individual mind and will as relatively independent had developed into a clearer understanding. In this regard, Descartes’ statement—cogito ergo sum—can be seen as the foundation of modern philosophy, with all later ideas being an extended commentary on it. While its more complete form is distinctly modern, idealism has deep roots in the history of thought. One of the main arguments for the validity of its perspective is its persistence at a certain stage in philosophical thought as a solution to recurring speculative issues. All thinking begins with a basic dualism or pluralism that views the world as made up of independent things and people existing side by side. The initial movement is towards breaking down this illusion of independence. They are understood to be connected through the relationship of cause and effect, determining and determined, which suggests that they are merely transient expressions of some single entity or energy that forms the true, unknown essence of the things we perceive. In the pantheism that replaces the old dualism, there appears to be no room for the individual. Mind and will in their individual forms fade into the general backdrop of appearance, lacking significance beyond being links in a predetermined chain. Liberation from the pantheistic view of the universe comes from recognizing the central role of thought and purpose in the real world, and, consequently, the invalidity of the abstraction that treats material energy as the ultimate reality.

The first illustration of this movement on a large scale was given in the Socratic reaction against the pantheistic conclusions of early Greek philosophy (see Ionian School). The whole movement of which Socrates was a part may be Ancient idealism: Socrates. said to have been in the direction of the assertion of the rights of the subject. Its keynote is to be found in the Protagorean “man is the measure.” This seems to have been interpreted by its author and by the Sophists in general in a subjective sense, with the result that it became the motto of a sceptical and individualistic movement in contemporary philosophy and ethics. It was not less against this form of idealism than against the determinism of the early physicists that Socrates protested. Along two lines the thought of Socrates led to idealistic conclusions which may be said to have formed the basis of all subsequent advance. (1) He perceived the importance of the universal or conceptual element in knowledge, and thus at a single stroke broke through the hard realism of ordinary common sense, disproved all forms of naturalism that were founded on the denial of the reality of thought, and cut away the ground from a merely sensational and subjective idealism. This is what Aristotle means by claiming for Socrates that he was the founder of definition. (2) He taught that life was explicable only as a system of ends. Goodness consists in the knowledge of what these are. It is by his hold upon them that the individual is able to give unity and reality to his will. In expounding these ideas Socrates limited himself to the sphere of practice. Moreover, the end or ideal of the practical life was conceived of in too vague a way to be of much practical use. His principle, however, was essentially sound, and led directly 282 to the Platonic Idealism. Plato extended the Socratic discovery to the whole of reality and while seeking to see the pre-Socratics with the eyes of Socrates sought “to see Socrates with the Plato eyes of the pre-Socratics.” Not only were the virtues to be explained by their relation to a common or universal good which only intelligence could apprehend, but there was nothing in all the furniture of heaven or earth which in like manner did not receive reality from the share it had in such an intelligible idea or essence. But these ideas are themselves intelligible only in relation to one another and to the whole. Accordingly Plato conceived of them as forming a system and finding their reality in the degree in which they embody the one all-embracing idea and conceived of not under the form of an efficient but of a final cause, an inner principle of action or tendency in things to realize the fullness of their own nature which in the last resort was identical with the nature of the whole. This Plato expressed in the myth of the Sun, but the garment of mythology in which Plato clothed his idealism, beautiful as it is in itself and full of suggestion, covered an essential weakness. The more Plato dwelt upon his world of ideas, the more they seemed to recede from the world of reality, standing over against it as principles of condemnation instead of revealing themselves in it. In this way the Good was made to appear as an end imposed upon things from without by a creative intelligence instead of as an inner principle of adaptation.

The first large-scale example of this movement was seen in Socrates' reaction against the pantheistic ideas of early Greek philosophy (see Ionian School). The entire movement Socrates was part of can be described as pushing for the recognition of individual rights. The central idea is found in the Protagorean statement that “man is the measure.” This seems to have been understood by its author and the Sophists generally in a subjective way, which turned it into a slogan for a skeptical and individualistic trend in contemporary philosophy and ethics. Socrates opposed not only this form of idealism but also the determinism of the early physicists. His thoughts led to idealistic conclusions in two significant ways that can be seen as laying the groundwork for all future progress. (1) He recognized the importance of the universal or conceptual aspect of knowledge, effectively breaking through the rigid realism of everyday common sense, disproving all forms of naturalism that denied the reality of thought, and undermining purely sensational and subjective idealism. This is why Aristotle claimed that Socrates was the founder of definition. (2) He argued that life can only be understood as a system of goals. Goodness consists in knowing what these goals are. It is through understanding these that individuals can unify and give substance to their will. In explaining these ideas, Socrates focused on practical matters. Furthermore, the goal or ideal of practical life was too vaguely defined to be of much real use. Nonetheless, his principle was fundamentally sound and directly led to Platonic Idealism. Plato expanded on Socrates' discovery to encompass all of reality, aiming to view the pre-Socratics through Socratic lenses while also trying “to see Socrates through the eyes of the pre-Socratics.” Virtues were to be explained by their connection to a common or universal good that could only be grasped by intelligence. Moreover, nothing in the universe gained reality except through its connection to such an intelligible idea or essence. These ideas are intelligible only in relation to one another and the whole. Thus, Plato viewed them as forming a system, with their reality deriving from how well they expressed the one all-encompassing idea, which was seen not as an efficient cause but as a final cause—an intrinsic principle of action or tendency in things to fulfill their nature, which ultimately aligned with the nature of the whole. Plato conveyed this in the myth of the Sun, but the mythological framework he used to express his idealism, while beautiful and suggestive, revealed a core weakness. The more Plato focused on his world of ideas, the more they seemed to distance themselves from reality, acting as principles of judgment rather than manifesting within it. This led to the Good being perceived as an external goal imposed on things by a creative intelligence, rather than as an internal principle of adaptation.

On one side of his thought Aristotle represents a reaction against idealism and a return to the position of common-sense dualism, but on another, and this the deeper side, he represents the attempt to restore the theory in a Aristotle. more satisfactory form. His account of the process of knowledge in his logical treatises exhibits the idealistic bent in its clearest form. This is as far removed as possible either from dualism or from empiricism. The universal is the real; it is that which gives coherence and individuality to the particulars of sense which apart from it are like the routed or disbanded units of an army. Still more manifestly in his Ethics and Politics Aristotle makes it clear that it is the common or universal will that gives substance and reality to the individual. In spite of these and other anticipations of a fuller idealism, the idea remains as a form imposed from without on a reality otherwise conceived of as independent of it. As we advance from the logic to the metaphysics and from that to his ontology, it becomes clear that the concepts are only “categories” or predicates of a reality lying outside of them, and there is an ultimate division between the world as the object or matter of thought and the thinking or moving principle which gives its life. It is this that gives the Aristotelian doctrine in its more abstract statements an air of uncertainty. Yet besides the particular contribution that Aristotle made to idealistic philosophy in his logical and ethical interpretations, he advanced the case in two directions, (a) He made it clear that no explanation of the world could be satisfactory that was not based on the notion of continuity in the sense of an order of existence in which the reality of the lower was to be sought for in the extent to which it gave expression to the potentialities of its own nature—which were also the potentialities of the whole of which it was a part. (b) From this it followed that difficult as we might find it to explain the relation of terms so remote from each other as sense and thought, the particular and the universal, matter and mind, these oppositions cannot in their nature be absolute. These truths, however, were hidden from Aristotle’s successors, who for the most part lost the thread which Socrates had put into their hand. When the authority of Aristotle was again invoked, it was its dualistic and formal, not its idealistic and metaphysical, side that was in harmony with the spirit of the age. Apart from one or two of the greatest minds, notably Dante, what appealed to the thinkers of the middle ages was not the idea of reality as a progressive self-revelation of an inner principle working through nature and human life, but the formal principles of classification which it seemed to offer for a material of thought and action given from another source.

On one side of his thinking, Aristotle reacts against idealism and returns to a common-sense dualism. On a deeper level, he tries to refine the theory into a more satisfactory version. His discussions on the process of knowledge in his logical writings show the idealistic approach most clearly. This stance is far removed from both dualism and empiricism. The universal is what’s real; it provides coherence and individuality to specific experiences, which without it are like scattered fragments of an army. Even more clearly, in his Ethics and Politics, Aristotle emphasizes that the common or universal will gives substance and reality to the individual. Despite these and other hints of a more complete idealism, the concept still appears as an external imposition on a reality otherwise considered independent. As we move from logic to metaphysics and then to his ontology, it becomes evident that concepts are merely "categories" or predicates of a reality beyond them, creating a fundamental divide between the world as the object of thought and the thinking or driving force that animates it. This creates a sense of uncertainty in Aristotle's more abstract statements. Yet, in addition to his contributions to idealistic philosophy through his logical and ethical perspectives, he pushed the discussion in two directions: (a) He clarified that no explanation of the world could be satisfactory unless it was based on the idea of continuity, seeing lower realities in terms of how much they express the potential of their own nature—potential that is also part of the whole they belong to. (b) From this, it followed that, even though we may struggle to explain the relationship between seemingly distant concepts like sense and thought, the particular and the universal, matter and mind, these oppositions cannot be absolute in nature. However, these truths were overlooked by Aristotle’s successors, who largely lost the thread that Socrates had provided. When Aristotle’s authority was later invoked, it was his dualistic and formal aspects that resonated with the spirit of the time, rather than his idealistic and metaphysical insights. Aside from a few brilliant minds, especially Dante, what engaged medieval thinkers was not the idea of reality as a progressive self-revelation of an inner principle operating through nature and human life, but the formal principles of classification that seemed to offer a framework for understanding thought and action derived from another source.

Modern like ancient idealism came into being as a correction of the view that threatened to resolve the world of matter and mind alike into the changing manifestations of some Modern Idealism. single non-spiritual force or substance. While, however, ancient philosophy may be said to have been unilinear, modern philosophy had a twofold origin, and till the time of Kant may be said to have pursued two independent courses.

Modern idealism, like ancient idealism, emerged as a way to correct the perspective that risked reducing both the material and mental worlds to the varying expressions of a single non-spiritual force or substance. However, while ancient philosophy can be described as unilinear, modern philosophy had two origins and can be said to have followed two separate paths up until the time of Kant.

All philosophy is the search for reality and rational certainty as opposed to mere formalism on the one hand, to authority and dogmatism on the other. In this sense modern philosophy had a common root in revolt against medievalism. In England this revolt sought for the certainty and clearness that reason requires In the assurance of an outer world given to immediate sense experience; on the continent of Europe, in the assurance of an inner world given immediately in thought. Though starting from apparently opposite poles and following widely different courses the two movements led more or less directly to the same results. It is easy to understand how English empiricism issued at once in the trenchant naturalism of Hobbes. It is less comprehensible how the Cartesian philosophy from the starting-point of thought allied itself with a similar point of view. This can be understood only by a study of the details of Descartes’ philosophy (see Cartesianism). Suffice it to say that in spite of its spiritualistic starting-point its general result was to give a stimulus to the prevailing scientific tendency as represented by Galileo, Kepler and Harvey to the principle of mechanical explanations of the phenomena of the universe. True it was precisely against this that Descartes’ immediate successors struggled. But the time-spirit was too strong for them. Determinism had other forms besides that of a crude materialism, and the direction that Malebranche succeeded in giving to speculation led only to the more complete denial of freedom and individuality in the all-devouring pantheism of Spinoza.

All philosophy is about searching for reality and rational certainty, as opposed to just formalism on one side and authority and dogmatism on the other. In this way, modern philosophy shared a common root in its rebellion against medieval thinking. In England, this rebellion aimed for the certainty and clarity that reason needs, relying on the assurance of an outer world accessible through immediate sensory experiences; meanwhile, on the European continent, it focused on the assurance of an inner world revealed immediately in thought. Although these two movements seemed to start from opposite ends and went in different directions, they ultimately led to similar outcomes. It’s clear how English empiricism quickly resulted in Hobbes’ sharp naturalism. However, it’s less obvious how Cartesian philosophy, beginning with thought, linked itself to a similar viewpoint. This understanding requires a detailed examination of Descartes' philosophy (see Cartesianism). It's enough to say that even though it started from a spiritual viewpoint, its overall impact was to support the prevailing scientific trend represented by Galileo, Kepler, and Harvey towards mechanical explanations of the universe's phenomena. It’s true that Descartes' immediate successors fought against this; however, the spirit of the time was too powerful for them. Determinism existed in forms other than crude materialism, and the direction Malebranche put speculation toward led only to a more complete denial of freedom and individuality within the all-consuming pantheism of Spinoza.

The foundations of idealism in the modern sense were laid by the thinkers who sought breathing room for mind and will in a deeper analysis of the relations of the subject to the world that it knows. From the outset English Berkeley. philosophy had a leaning to the psychological point of view, and Locke was only carrying on the tradition of his predecessors and particularly of Hobbes in definitely accepting it as the basis of his Essay. It was, however, Berkeley who first sought to utilize the conclusions that were implicit in Locke’s starting-point to disprove “the systems of impious and profane persons which exclude all freedom, intelligence, and design from the formation of things, and instead thereof make a self-existent, stupid, unthinking substance the root and origin of all beings.” Berkeley’s statement of the view that all knowledge is relative to the subject—that no object can be known except under the form which our powers of sense-perception, our memory and imagination, our notions and inference, give it—is still the most striking and convincing that we possess. To have established this position was a great step in speculation. Henceforth ordinary dogmatic dualism was excluded from philosophy; any attempt to revive it, whether with Dr Johnson by an appeal to common prejudice, or, in the more reflective Johnsonianism of the 18th-century Scottish philosophers, must be an anachronism. Equally impossible was it thenceforth to assert the mediate or immediate certainty of material substance as the cause either of events in nature or of sensations in ourselves. But with these advances came the danger of falling into error from which common-sense dualism and naturalistic monism were free. From the point of view which Berkeley had inherited from Locke it seemed to follow that not only material substance, but the whole conception of a world of objects, is at most an inference from subjective modifications which are the only immediately certain objects of knowledge. The implications of such a view were first clearly apparent when Hume showed that on the basis of it there seemed to be nothing that we could confidently affirm except the order of our own impressions and ideas. This being so, not only were physics and mathematics impossible as sciences of necessary 283 objective truth, but our apparent consciousness of a permanent self and object alike must be delusive.

The foundation of modern idealism was built by thinkers who explored the relationship between the mind and will in deeper ways, seeking more space for thought. From the beginning, English philosophy leaned toward a psychological perspective, with Locke continuing the tradition of his predecessors, especially Hobbes, by clearly adopting it as the basis of his Essay. However, it was Berkeley who first aimed to use the conclusions inherent in Locke's starting ideas to challenge "the beliefs of disrespectful and unholy individuals who deny all liberty, intelligence, and design in how things come to be, instead proposing a self-existent, dull, unthinking substance as the root and source of all existence." Berkeley argued that all knowledge is related to the subject; that no object can be understood except through the forms provided by our sensory perceptions, memory, imagination, concepts, and reasoning. This view remains one of the most compelling and powerful we have. Establishing this position was a significant step in philosophical thinking. From then on, traditional dogmatic dualism was excluded from philosophy; attempts to revive it, whether by Dr. Johnson appealing to common beliefs or through the more thoughtful Johnsonianism of 18th-century Scottish philosophers, were out of place. It also became impossible to claim that material substance could be the cause of either natural events or our own sensations. However, along with these advances came the risk of sliding into errors that common-sense dualism and naturalistic monism had avoided. From the perspective Berkeley inherited from Locke, it appeared that not just material substance, but the entire idea of a world filled with objects, was ultimately an inference from subjective experiences, which are the only things we can know for sure. The full implications of this view became clear when Hume demonstrated that, based on it, there was very little we could confidently assert other than the order of our own impressions and ideas. Given this, physics and mathematics could not serve as sciences of necessary 283 objective truth, and our apparent awareness of a lasting self and the existence of objects must be illusory.

It was these paradoxes that Kant sought to rebut by a more thoroughgoing criticism of the basis of knowledge the substance of which is summed up in his celebrated Refutation Kant. of Idealism,1 wherein he sought to undermine Hume’s scepticism by carrying it one step further and demonstrating that not only is all knowledge of self or object excluded, but the consciousness of any series of impressions and ideas is itself impossible except in relation to some external permanent and universally accepted world of objects.

It was these contradictions that Kant aimed to challenge by offering a deeper critique of the foundation of knowledge, which he famously summarized in his Refutation Kant. of Idealism,1 where he tried to weaken Hume’s skepticism by pushing it even further and showing that not only is all knowledge of the self or objects excluded, but the awareness of any sequence of impressions and ideas is impossible unless it relates to some external, permanent, and universally acknowledged world of objects.

But Kant’s refutation of subjective idealism and his vindication of the place of the object can be fully understood only when we take into account the other defect in the teaching of his predecessors that he sought in his Leibnitz. Critique to correct. In continental philosophy the reaction against mechanical and pantheistic explanations of the universe found even more definite utterance than in English psychological empiricism in the metaphysical system of Leibnitz, whose theory of self-determined monads can be understood only when taken in the light of the assertion of the rights of the subject against the substance of Spinoza and the atoms of the materialist. But Leibnitz also anticipated Kant in seeking to correct the empirical point of view of the English philosophers. True, sense-given material is necessary in order that we may have thought. “But by what means,” he asks, “can experience and the senses give ideas? Has the soul windows? Is it like a writing tablet? Is it like wax? It is plain that all those who think thus of the soul make it at bottom corporeal. True, nothing is in the intellect which has not been in the senses, but we must add except the intellect itself. The soul contains the notions of being, substance, unity, identity, cause, perception, reasoning and many others which the senses cannot give” (Nouveaux essais, ii. 1). But Leibnitz’s conception of the priority of spirit had too little foundation, and the different elements he sought to combine were too loosely related to one another to stand the strain of the two forces of empiricism and materialism that were opposed to his idealism. More particularly by the confusion in which he left the relation between the two logical principles of identity and of sufficient reason underlying respectively analytic and synthetic, deductive and inductive thought, he may be said to have undermined in another way the idealism he strove to establish. It was in seeking to close up the fissure in his system represented by this dualism that his successors succeeded only in adding weakness to weakness by reducing the principle of sufficient reason to that of formal identity (see Wolff) and representing all thought as in essence analytic. From this it immediately followed that, so far as the connexion of our experiences of the external world does not show itself irreducible to that of formal identity, it must remain unintelligible. As empiricism had foundered on the difficulty of showing how our thoughts could be an object of sense experience, so Leibnitzian formalism foundered on that of understanding how the material of sense could be an object of thought. On one view as on the other scientific demonstration was impossible.

But Kant's challenge to subjective idealism and his defense of the role of the object can only be fully understood when we consider another flaw in the teachings of his predecessors that he aimed to correct in his Leibniz. Critique. In continental philosophy, the reaction against mechanical and pantheistic interpretations of the universe was articulated more clearly than in English psychological empiricism within Leibnitz's metaphysical system. His theory of self-determined monads can only be understood when viewed in light of the assertion of the subject's rights against Spinoza's substance and the atoms of materialists. However, Leibnitz also predated Kant by trying to adjust the empirical perspective of English philosophers. It's true that sensory material is necessary for thought. “But by what means,” he asks, “can experience and the senses provide ideas? Does the soul have windows? Is it like a writing tablet? Is it like wax? Clearly, all who think of the soul this way essentially view it as corporeal. True, nothing is in the intellect that hasn't been in the senses, but we must add except for the intellect itself. The soul has notions of being, substance, unity, identity, cause, perception, reasoning, and many others which the senses cannot provide” (Nouveaux essais, ii. 1). However, Leibnitz's idea of the spirit's priority lacked a solid foundation, and the different elements he tried to combine were too loosely connected to withstand the pressure from the opposing forces of empiricism and materialism that challenged his idealism. Particularly, the confusion he created regarding the relationship between the two logical principles of identity and sufficient reason, which underlie analytic and synthetic, deductive and inductive thought respectively, can be seen as another way he weakened the idealism he aimed to establish. In trying to bridge the gap in his system represented by this dualism, his successors ended up adding more weakness by reducing the principle of sufficient reason to that of formal identity (see Wolff) and portraying all thought as essentially analytic. This immediately led to the conclusion that, as long as the connection of our experiences of the external world does not appear reducible to that of formal identity, it must remain unintelligible. Just as empiricism failed because it struggled to show how our thoughts could be objects of sensory experience, Leibnitzian formalism fell apart in trying to understand how sensory material could be an object of thought. In both views, scientific demonstration was impossible.

The extremity to which philosophy had been brought by empiricism on the one hand and formalism on the other was Kant’s opportunity. Leibnitz’s principle of the “nisi intellectus ipse” was expanded by him into a demonstration Kant. the completest yet effected by philosophy of the part played by the subject not merely in the manipulation of the material of experience but in the actual constitution of the object that is known. On the other hand he insisted on the synthetic character of this activity without which it was impossible to get beyond the circle of our own thoughts. The parts of the Critique of Pure Reason, more particularly the “Deduction of the Categories” in which this theory is worked out, may be said to have laid the foundation of modern idealism—“articulum stantis aut cadentis doctrinae.” In spite of the defects of Kant’s statement—to which it is necessary to return—the place of the concepts and ideals of the mind and the synthetic organizing activity which these involve was established with a trenchancy which has been acknowledged by all schools alike. The “Copernican revolution” which he claimed to have effected may be said to have become the starting-point of all modern philosophy. Yet the divergent uses that have been made of it witness to the ambiguity of his statement which is traceable to the fact that Kant was himself too deeply rooted in the thought of his predecessors and carried with him too much of their spirit to be able entirely to free himself from their assumptions and abstractions. His philosophy was more like Michaelangelo’s famous sculpture of the Dawn, a spirit yet encumbered with the stubble of the material from which it was hewn, than a clear cut figure with unmistakable outlines. Chief among these encumbering presuppositions was that of a fundamental distinction between perception and conception and consequent upon it between the synthetic and the analytic use of thought. It is upon this in the last resort that the distinction between the phenomenal world of our experience and a noumenal world beyond it is founded. Kant perceives that “perception without conception is blind, conception without perception is empty,” but if he goes so far ought he not to have gone still further and inquired whether there can be any perception at all without a concept, any concept which does not presuppose a precept, and, if this is impossible, whether the distinction between a world of appearance which is known and a world of things-in-themselves which is not, is not illusory?

The extent to which philosophy had been shaped by empiricism on one side and formalism on the other presented Kant with an opportunity. He expanded Leibnitz’s principle of "nisi intellectus ipse" into a demonstration that was the most thorough yet achieved by philosophy regarding the role of the subject, not only in processing the material of experience but also in the actual formation of the object being known. He also emphasized the synthetic nature of this activity, without which it was impossible to move beyond the confines of our own thoughts. The sections of the Critique of Pure Reason, especially the “Deduction of the Categories” where this theory is developed, can be said to have laid the groundwork for modern idealism—“articulum stantis aut cadentis doctrinae.” Despite the flaws in Kant’s argument—which need to be revisited—the significance of the mind's concepts and ideals, along with the synthetic organizing activity they involve, was established with a clarity that has been recognized by all schools of thought. The “Copernican revolution” he claimed to have initiated can be seen as the starting point of all modern philosophy. However, the various ways it has been interpreted highlight the ambiguity in his statements, which can be traced back to Kant being too influenced by the ideas of his predecessors and carrying too much of their spirit to fully break free from their assumptions and abstractions. His philosophy resembles Michelangelo’s famous sculpture of Dawn, a spirit still burdened by the raw material from which it was formed, rather than a distinctly outlined figure. Chief among these burdensome assumptions was the fundamental distinction between perception and conception, and consequently, between the synthetic and analytic use of thought. This ultimately underpins the difference between the phenomenal world of our experience and a noumenal world beyond it. Kant recognizes that “perception without conception is blind, conception without perception is empty,” but if he acknowledges this, shouldn’t he have pursued the question further? Can there even be any perception without a concept, any concept that doesn't rely on a precept? If that is impossible, isn't the distinction between a known world of appearances and a world of things-in-themselves, which isn't known, illusory?

It was by asking precisely these questions that Hegel gave the finishing strokes to the Kantian philosophy. The starting-point of all valid philosophy must be the perception that the essence of all conscious apprehension is the Hegel. union of opposites—of which that of subject and object is the most fundamental and all-pervasive. True, before differences can be united they must have been separated, but this merely proves that differentiation or analysis is only one factor in a single process. Equally fundamental is the element of synthesis. Nor is it possible at any point in knowledge to prove the existence of a merely given in whose construction the thinking subject has played no part nor a merely thinking subject in whose structure the object is not an organic factor. In coming, as at a certain point in its development it does, to the consciousness of an object, the mind does not find itself in the presence of an opponent, or of anything essentially alien to itself but of that which gives content and stability to its own existence. True, the stability it seems to find in it is incomplete. The object cannot rest in the form of its immediate appearance without involving us in contradiction. The sun does not “rise,” the dew does not “fall.” But this only means that the unity between subject and object to which the gift of consciousness commits us is incompletely realized in that appearance: the apparent truth has to submit to correction and supplementation before it can be accepted as real truth. It does not mean that there is anywhere a mere fact which is not also an interpretation nor an interpreting mind whose ideas have no hold upon fact. From this it follows that ultimate or absolute reality is to be sought not beyond the region of experience, but in the fullest and most harmonious statement of the facts of our experience. True a completely harmonious world whether of theory or of practice remains an ideal. But the fact that we have already in part realized the ideal and that the degree in which we have realized it is the degree in which we may regard our experience as trustworthy, is proof that the ideal is no mere idea as Kant taught, but the very substance of reality.

It was by asking these exact questions that Hegel completed the Kantian philosophy. The foundation of all valid philosophy must be the understanding that the essence of all conscious perception is the merging of opposites—of which the relationship between subject and object is the most fundamental and universally applicable. It’s true that before differences can be united, they must first be separated, but this only demonstrates that differentiation or analysis is just one part of a single process. Equally essential is the element of synthesis. Moreover, it's impossible at any point in knowledge to prove the existence of a purely given aspect where the thinking subject has played no role, or a purely thinking subject in which the object is not an integral part. When the mind reaches the awareness of an object, as it does at a certain stage in its development, it doesn’t encounter an opponent or anything completely foreign to itself, but rather that which provides content and stability to its own existence. True, the stability it seems to find is incomplete. The object cannot remain in the form of its immediate appearance without leading us into contradiction. The sun does not “rise,” the dew does not “fall.” But this only indicates that the unity between subject and object, which the gift of consciousness demands of us, is not fully realized in that appearance: the apparent truth must undergo correction and enhancement before it can be accepted as real truth. It does not imply that there exists somewhere a mere fact that is not also an interpretation or a mind interpreting ideas that have no connection to facts. Consequently, it follows that ultimate or absolute reality should be sought not beyond the realm of experience, but in the fullest and most harmonious expression of the facts of our experience. True, a completely harmonious world, whether in theory or practice, remains an ideal. However, the fact that we have already partially achieved the ideal, and that the extent to which we have achieved it is the extent to which we can view our experience as credible, proves that the ideal is not just an idea as Kant suggested, but the very essence of reality.

Intelligible as this development of Kantian idealism seems in the light of subsequent philosophy, the first statement of it in Hegel was not free from obscurity. The unity of opposites translated into its most abstract terms Stumbling blocks in Hegel’s statements. as the “identity of being and not-being,” the principle that the “real is the rational,” the apparent substitution of “bloodless” categories for the substance of concrete reality gave it an air of paradox in the eyes of metaphysicians while physicists were scandalized by the premature attempts at a complete philosophy of nature and 284 history. For this Hegel was doubtless partly to blame. But philosophical critics of his own and a later day are not hereby absolved from a certain perversity in interpreting these doctrines in a sense precisely opposite to that in which they were intended. The doctrine of the unity of contraries so far from being the denial of the law of non-contradiction is founded on an absolute reliance upon it. Freed from paradox it means that in every object of thought there are different aspects or elements each of which if brought separately into consciousness may be so emphasized as to appear to contradict another. Unity may be made to contradict diversity, permanence change, the particular the universal, individuality relatedness. Ordinary consciousness ignores these “latent fires”; ordinary discussion brings them to light and divides men into factions and parties over them; philosophy not because it denies but because it acknowledges the law of non-contradiction as supreme is pledged to seek a point of view from which they may be seen to be in essential harmony with one another as different sides of the same truth. The “rationality of the real” has in like manner been interpreted as intended to sanctify the existing order. Hegel undoubtedly meant to affirm that the actual was rational in the face of the philosophy which set up subjective feeling and reason against it. But idealism has insisted from the time of Plato on the distinction between what is actual in time and space and the reality that can only partially be revealed in it. Hegel carried this principle further than had yet been done. His phrase does not therefore sanctify the established fact but, on the contrary, declares that it partakes of reality only so far as it embodies the ideal of a coherent and stable system which it is not. As little is idealism responsible for any attempt to pass off logical abstractions for concrete reality. The “Logic” of Hegel is merely the continuation of Kant’s “Deduction” of the categories and ideas of the reason which has generally been recognized as the soberest of attempts to set forth the presuppositions which underlie all experience. “What Hegel attempts to show is just that the categories by which thought must determine its object are stages in a process that, beginning with the idea of ‘Being,’ the simplest of all determinations is driven on by its own dialectic till it reaches the idea of self-consciousness. In other words the intelligence when it once begins to define an object for itself, finds itself launched on a movement of self-asserting synthesis in which it cannot stop until it had recognized that the unity of the object with itself involves its unity with all other objects and with the mind that knows it. Hence, whatever we begin by saying, we must ultimately say ‘mind’” (Caird, Kant, i. 443).

As clear as this development of Kantian idealism seems in light of later philosophy, Hegel's initial expression of it was somewhat obscure. The unity of opposites, framed in its most abstract terms, like the "identity of being and not-being," the principle that "the real is the rational," and the seemingly “bloodless” categories replacing the essence of concrete reality, created an impression of paradox for metaphysicians, while physicists were outraged by Hegel’s premature attempts to create a complete philosophy of nature and history. Hegel was certainly partially responsible for this. However, philosophical critics, both then and now, are not exempt from a certain stubbornness in interpreting these ideas in a way that directly opposes their intended meaning. The doctrine of the unity of opposites, far from denying the law of non-contradiction, is actually based on a firm reliance on it. Free from paradox, it suggests that within every object of thought, there are different aspects or elements, each of which, when considered separately, can be emphasized to the point of seeming to contradict another. Unity can appear to contradict diversity, permanence can contradict change, the particular can conflict with the universal, and individuality can clash with relatedness. Everyday consciousness ignores these "latent fires"; typical discussions bring them to the surface, dividing people into factions and parties. Philosophy, not because it denies but because it acknowledges the law of non-contradiction as fundamental, is committed to finding a perspective from which these elements can be viewed as fundamentally harmonious, different sides of the same truth. The "rationality of the real" has similarly been interpreted as a way to legitimize the current order. Hegel certainly aimed to assert that the actual was rational in opposition to philosophies that placed subjective feelings and reason above it. Yet, idealism has maintained since Plato a distinction between what is actual in time and space and the reality that can only be partially revealed through it. Hegel advanced this principle further than had previously been done. Thus, his phrase does not endorse the established facts but, conversely, states that they partake in reality only to the extent that they embody the ideal of a coherent and stable system, which they are not. Idealism is not accountable for any attempt to present logical abstractions as concrete reality. Hegel's "Logic" is simply a continuation of Kant's "Deduction" of the categories and ideas of reason, which is generally recognized as one of the most rational attempts to outline the assumptions that underlie all experience. "What Hegel attempts to show is just that the categories by which thought must determine its object are stages in a process that, beginning with the idea of 'Being,' the simplest of all determinations, is propelled by its own dialectic until it reaches the idea of self-consciousness. In other words, once the intellect begins to define an object for itself, it finds itself engaged in a movement of self-affirming synthesis, which it cannot halt until it recognizes that the unity of the object with itself entails its unity with all other objects and with the mind that comprehends it. Therefore, no matter how we begin our discussion, we must ultimately say 'mind.'" (Caird, Kant, i. 443).

While the form in which these doctrines were stated proved fatal to them in the country of their birth, they took deep root in the next generation in English philosophy. Here the stone that the builders rejected was made the head of the corner. The influences which led to this result were manifold. From the side of literature the way was prepared for it by the genius of Coleridge, Wordsworth and Carlyle; from the side of morals and politics by the profound discontent of the constructive spirit of the century with the disintegrating conceptions inherited from utilitarianism. In taking root in England idealism had to contend against the traditional empiricism represented by Mill on the one hand and the pseudo-Kantianism which was rendered current by Mansel and Hamilton on the other. As contrasted with the first it stood for the necessity of recognizing a universal or ideal element as a constitutive factor in all experience whether cognitive or volitional; as contrasted with the latter for the ultimate unity of subject and object, knowledge and reality, and therefore for the denial of the existence of any thing-in-itself for ever outside the range of experience. Its polemic against the philosophy of experience has exposed it to general misunderstanding, as though it claimed some a priori path to truth. In reality it stands for a more thoroughgoing and consistent application of the test of experience. The defect of English empiricism from the outset had been the uncritical acceptance of the metaphysical dogma of a pure unadulterated sense-experience as the criterion of truth. This assumption idealism examines and rejects in the name of experience itself. Similarly it only carried the doctrine of relativity to its logical conclusion in denying that there could be any absolute relativity. Object stands in essential relation to subject, subject to object. This being so, it is wholly illogical to seek for any test of the truth and reality of either except in the form which that relation itself takes. In its subsequent development idealism in England has passed through several clearly marked stages which may be distinguished as (a) that of exploration and tentative exposition in the writings of J. F. Ferrier,2 J. Hutchison Stirling,3 Benjamin Jowett,4 W. T. Harris;5 (b) of confident application to the central problems of logic, ethics and politics, fine art and religion, and as a principle of constructive criticism and interpretation chiefly in T. H. Green,6 E. Caird,7 B. Bosanquet;8 (c) of vigorous effort to develop on fresh lines its underlying metaphysics in F. H. Bradley,9 J. M. E. McTaggart,10 A. E. Taylor,11 Josiah Royce12 and others. Under the influence of these writers idealism, as above expounded though with difference of interpretation in individual writers, may be said towards the end of the 19th century to have been on its way to becoming the leading philosophy in the British Isles and America.

While the way these doctrines were expressed proved disastrous for them in their birthplace, they took strong root in the next generation of English philosophy. Here, the stone that the builders rejected became the cornerstone. Many factors contributed to this outcome. On the literary side, figures like Coleridge, Wordsworth, and Carlyle paved the way; on the moral and political side, there was a deep dissatisfaction with the breaking-down ideas inherited from utilitarianism. In establishing itself in England, idealism had to face the traditional empiricism represented by Mill on one side and the pseudo-Kantianism promoted by Mansel and Hamilton on the other. Compared to the former, it advocated for the necessity of recognizing a universal or ideal element as a fundamental part of all experiences, whether cognitive or volitional; compared to the latter, it supported the ultimate unity of subject and object, knowledge and reality, denying the existence of anything-in-itself existing outside the scope of experience. Its criticisms of the philosophy of experience have led to general misunderstanding, as if it were claiming some a priori way to truth. In reality, it advocates for a more thorough and consistent application of the experience test. The initial flaw of English empiricism was its uncritical acceptance of the metaphysical claim that pure, unadulterated sense-experience was the standard of truth. This assumption is what idealism scrutinizes and rejects in the name of experience itself. Similarly, it took the doctrine of relativity to its logical conclusion by denying that there could be any absolute relativity. The object is fundamentally related to the subject, and the subject is related to the object. With this in mind, it is entirely illogical to seek any measure of truth and reality for either, except in the form that the relationship itself takes. In its later development, English idealism has gone through several distinct stages that can be categorized as (a) exploration and tentative exposition in the writings of J. F. Ferrier,2 J. Hutchison Stirling,3 Benjamin Jowett,4 W. T. Harris;5 (b) confident application to the main issues of logic, ethics and politics, fine art and religion, and functioning as a principle of constructive criticism and interpretation primarily in the works of T. H. Green,6 E. Caird,7 B. Bosanquet;8 (c) vigorous efforts to develop its underlying metaphysics along new lines by F. H. Bradley,9 J. M. E. McTaggart,10 A. E. Taylor,11 Josiah Royce12 and others. Under the influence of these writers, idealism, as described above but with different interpretations by individual authors, can be said to have been on its way to becoming the dominant philosophy in the British Isles and America by the end of the 19th century.

3. Reaction against Traditional Idealism.—But it was not to be expected that the position idealism had thus won for itself would remain long unchallenged. It had its roots in a literature and in forms of thought remote from the New Dualism and Pragmatism. common track; it had been formulated before the great advances in psychology which marked the course of the century; its latest word seemed to involve consequences that brought it into conflict with the vital interest the human mind has in freedom and the possibility of real initiation. It is not, therefore, surprising that there should have been a vigorous reaction. This has taken mainly two opposite forms. On the one hand the attack has come from the old ground of the danger that is threatened to the reality of the external world and may be said to be in the interest of the object. On the other hand the theory has been attacked in the interest of the subject on the ground that in the statuesque world of ideas into which it introduces us it leaves no room for the element of movement and process which recent psychology and metaphysic alike have taught us underlies all life. The conflict of idealism with these two lines of criticism—the accusation of subjectivism on the one side of intellectualism and rigid objectivism on the other—may be said to have constituted the history of Anglo-Saxon philosophy during the first decade of the 20th century.

3. Reaction against Traditional Idealism.—However, it was unrealistic to think that the position idealism had secured would remain unchallenged for long. It was rooted in literature and ways of thinking that were far removed from the New Dualism and Pragmatism. mainstream; it had been shaped before the significant advancements in psychology that defined the century; its latest conclusions seemed to lead to consequences that conflicted with the essential human desire for freedom and the potential for genuine creativity. Therefore, it’s not surprising that a strong reaction emerged. This reaction took mainly two opposing forms. On one side, the criticism arose from concerns about the threat to the reality of the external world, which could be seen as defending the object. On the other side, the theory was challenged from the perspective of the subject, arguing that the static world of ideas it presented allowed no space for the movement and processes that contemporary psychology and metaphysics have shown underlie all life. The clash between idealism and these two lines of critique—the charge of subjectivism on one hand and the accusations of intellectualism and rigid objectivism on the other—can be said to have defined the history of Anglo-Saxon philosophy during the first decade of the 20th century.

I. Whatever is to be said of ancient Idealism, the modern doctrine may be said notably in Kant to have been in the main a vindication of the subjective factor in knowledge. But that space and time, matter and cause should owe their origin to the action of the mind has always seemed paradoxical to common sense. Nor is the impression which its enunciation in Kant made, likely to have been lightened in this country by the connexion that was sure to be traced between Berkeleyanism and the new teaching or by the form which the doctrine received at the hands of T. H. Green, its leading English representative between 1870 and 1880. If what is real in things is ultimately nothing but their relations, and if relations are inconceivable apart from the relating mind, what is this but the dissolution of the solid ground of external reality which my consciousness seems to assure me underlies and eludes all the conceptual network by which I try to bring one part of my experience into connexion with another? It is quite true that modern idealists like Berkeley himself have sought to save themselves from the gulf of subjectivism by calling in the aid of a universal or infinite mind or by an appeal to a total or absolute experience to which our own is relative. But the former device is too obviously a deus ex machina, the purpose of which would be equally well served by supposing with Fichte the individual self to be endowed with the power of subconsciously extraditing a world which returns to it in consciousness under the form of a foreign creation. The appeal to an Absolute on the other hand is only to substitute one difficulty for another. For granting that it places the centre of reality outside the individual self it does so only at the price of reducing the reality of the latter to an appearance; 285 and if only one thing is real what becomes of the many different things which again my consciousness assures me are the one world with which I can have any practical concern? To meet these difficulties and give back to us the assurance of the substantiality of the world without us it has therefore been thought necessary to maintain two propositions which are taken to be the refutation of idealism. (1) There is given to us immediately in knowledge a world entirely independent of and different from our own impressions on the one hand and the conceptions by which we seek to establish relations between them upon the other. The relation of these impressions (and for the matter of that of their inter-relations among themselves) to our minds is only one out of many. As a leading writer puts it: “There is such a thing as greenness having various relations, among others that of being perceived.”13 (2) Things may be, and may be known to be simply different. They may exclude one another, exist so to speak in a condition of armed neutrality to one another, without being positively thereby related to one another or altered by any change taking place in any of them. As the same writer puts it: “There is such a thing as numerical difference, different from conceptual difference,”14 or expressing the same thing in other words “there are relations not grounded in the nature of the related terms.”

I. Whatever can be said about ancient Idealism, the modern view, especially in Kant, mainly defends the subjective element in knowledge. However, the idea that space and time, matter and cause originate from the mind's activity has always seemed paradoxical to common sense. Additionally, the impact of Kant’s ideas was likely not diminished in this country by the connection that was sure to be drawn between Berkeley's views and this new theory, nor by the way the ideas were expressed by T. H. Green, its leading English representative from 1870 to 1880. If what is real in things is ultimately just their relationships, and if those relationships can't exist without a relating mind, isn't that essentially undermining the solid foundation of external reality that my consciousness seems to tell me supports the complex web of concepts I use to connect different parts of my experience? It's true that modern idealists like Berkeley have tried to escape the pitfall of subjectivism by invoking a universal or infinite mind, or by referring to a total or absolute experience that our own experiences relate to. But the first option is clearly a deus ex machina, which could equally be replaced by Fichte's idea that the individual self has the ability to subconsciously create a world that appears to it as a separate creation. The appeal to an Absolute, on the other hand, just swaps one problem for another. While it places the center of reality outside the individual self, it does so at the cost of reducing that self's reality to mere appearance; 285 and if only one thing is real, what happens to the many different things that my consciousness assures me make up the one world that I can engage with? To address these challenges and restore our confidence in the substantiality of the external world, it has been thought necessary to maintain two propositions that are seen as refuting idealism. (1) We are immediately given a world that is entirely independent of and different from our own impressions and the concepts we use to relate them. The relationship of these impressions (and indeed their interrelations) to our minds is just one among many. As a prominent writer states: “There is such a thing as greenness having various relations, including the relation of being perceived.” 13 (2) Things may exist, and may be recognized as simply different. They can exclude one another, existing, so to speak, in a state of armed neutrality, without being positively related to each other or affected by any changes in any of them. As the same writer puts it: “There is such a thing as numerical difference, different from conceptual difference,” 14 or, to express the same idea differently, “there are relations not grounded in the nature of the related terms.”

In this double-barrelled criticism it is important to distinguish what is really relevant. Whatever the shortcomings of individual writers may be, modern idealism differs, as we have seen, from the arrested idealism of Berkeley precisely in the point on which dualism insists. In all knowledge we are in touch not merely with the self and its passing states, but with a real object which is different from them. On this head there is no difference, and idealism need have no difficulty in accepting all that its opponents here contend. The difference between the two theories does not consist in any difference of emphasis on the objective side of knowledge, but in the standard by which the nature of the object is to be tested—the difference is logical not metaphysical—it concerns the definition of truth or falsity in the knowledge of the reality which both admit. To idealism there can be no ultimate test, but the possibility of giving any fact which claims to be true its place in a coherent system of mutually related truths. To this dualism opposes the doctrine that truth and falsehood are a matter of mere immediate intuition: “There is no problem at all in truth and falsehood, some propositions are true and some false just as some roses are red and some white.”15 The issue between the two theories under this head may here be left with the remark that it is a curious comment on the logic of dualism that setting out to vindicate the reality of an objective standard of truth it should end in the most subjective of all the way a thing appears to the individual. The criticism that applies to the first of the above contentions applies mutatis mutandis to the second. As idealism differs from Berkeleyanism in asserting the reality of an “external” world so it differs from Spinozism in asserting the reality of difference within it. Determination is not merely negation. On this head there need be no quarrel between it and dualism. Ours is a many-sided, a many-coloured world. The point of conflict again lies in the nature and ground of the assigned differences. Dualism meets the assertion of absolute unity by the counter assertion of mere difference. But if it is an error to treat the unity of the world as its only real aspect, it is equally an error to treat its differences as something ultimately irreducible. No philosophy founded on this assumption is likely to maintain itself against the twofold evidence of modern psychology and modern logic. According to the first the world, whether looked at from the side of our perception or from the side of the object perceived, can be made intelligible only when we accept it for what it is as a real continuity. Differences, of course, there are; and, if we like to say so, every difference is unique, but this does not mean that they are given in absolute independence of everything else, “fired at us out of a cannon.” They bear a definite relation to the structure of our physical and psychical nature, and correspond to definite needs of the subject that manifests itself therein. Similarly from the side of logic. It is not the teaching of idealism alone but of the facts which logical analysis has brought home to us that all difference in the last resort finds its ground in the quality or content of the things differentiated, and that this difference of content shows in turn a double strand, the strand of sameness and the strand of otherness—that in which and that by which they differ from one another. Idealism has, of course, no quarrel with numerical difference. All difference has its numerical aspect: two different things are always two both in knowledge and in reality. What it cannot accept is the doctrine that there are two things which are two in themselves apart from that which makes them two—which are not two of something. So far from establishing the truth for which dualism is itself concerned—the reality of all differences—such a theory can end only in a scepticism as to the reality of any difference. It is difficult to see what real difference there can be between things which are differences of nothing.

In this two-part criticism, it’s crucial to recognize what’s really important. No matter the flaws of individual authors, modern idealism, as we’ve observed, is distinct from the stagnant idealism of Berkeley, especially on the point emphasized by dualism. In all knowledge, we engage not only with the self and its fleeting states but also with a real object that is separate from them. There’s no disagreement on this point, and idealism can easily accept everything its opponents argue here. The distinction between the two theories doesn’t lie in their emphasis on the objective side of knowledge but in the criteria used to assess the nature of the object—this difference is logical, not metaphysical—it involves how we define truth or falsity in our understanding of the reality both acknowledge. For idealism, there can be no absolute standard, only the possibility of placing any claim to truth within a coherent system of interrelated truths. In opposition, dualism asserts that truth and falsehood are simply a matter of immediate intuition: “There is no real issue with truth and falsehood; some statements are true while others are false, just like some roses are red and some are white.” 15 The debate between the two theories can be summed up by noting that it’s an interesting comment on the logic of dualism that, in trying to establish the reality of an objective standard of truth, it ends up relying on the most subjective perspective of how something appears to the individual. The criticism applicable to the first of the above points also applies mutatis mutandis to the second. As idealism differs from Berkeleyanism by asserting the reality of an “external” world, it also differs from Spinozism by recognizing the reality of differences within it. Determination involves more than just negation. On this matter, there doesn’t have to be a conflict between it and dualism. We live in a complex, colorful world. The point of contention again lies in the nature and basis of the differences assigned. Dualism responds to the claim of absolute unity with the counterclaim of mere difference. However, if it’s a mistake to view the unity of the world as its only real characteristic, it’s equally erroneous to consider its differences as something ultimately irreducible. No philosophy built on this assumption is likely to hold up against the dual evidence of modern psychology and modern logic. According to the first, the world, whether viewed through our perception or from the perspective of the object being perceived, can only be understood when we accept it as a real continuity. Certainly, there are differences, and if we choose to say so, each difference is unique, but this doesn’t imply that they exist completely independently of everything else, “fired at us out of a cannon.” They have a specific relationship to the structure of our physical and psychological nature and meet definite needs of the subject that expresses itself in them. Similarly, from the standpoint of logic, it’s not just the philosophy of idealism but also the insights that logical analysis has provided us that all differences ultimately find their basis in the qualities or content of the differentiated things, and this difference of content reveals a dual nature: the element of sameness and the element of otherness—that in which and that by which they differ from each other. Idealism certainly has no issue with numerical difference. Every difference has its numerical aspect: two distinct things are always two in both knowledge and reality. What it cannot accept is the idea that there are two things that are distinct in and of themselves apart from what makes them distinct—that they are not two of something. Far from confirming the truth that dualism seeks—the reality of all differences—such a theory can only lead to skepticism about any difference's reality. It’s hard to see what real differences can exist between things that are differences of nothing.

II. More widespread and of more serious import is the attack from the other side to which since the publication of A. Seth’s Hegelianism and Personality (1887) and W. James’s Will to Believe (1903) idealism has been subjected. Here also it is important to distinguish what is relevant from what is irrelevant in the line of criticism represented by these writers. There need be no contradiction between idealism and a reasonable pragmatism. In so far as the older doctrine is open to the charge of neglecting the conative and teleological side of experience it can afford to be grateful to its critics for recalling it to its own eponymous principle of the priority of the “ideal” to the “idea,” of needs to the conception of their object. The real issue comes into view in the attempt, undertaken in the interest of freedom, to substitute for the notion of the world as a cosmos pervaded by no discernible principle and in its essence indifferent to the form impressed upon it by its active parts.

II. More widespread and more serious is the challenge from the other side that idealism has faced since the publication of A. Seth’s Hegelianism and Personality (1887) and W. James’s Will to Believe (1903). Here, it’s essential to separate what’s relevant from what’s irrelevant in the criticisms made by these authors. There doesn’t have to be a conflict between idealism and practical pragmatism. While the older doctrine can be criticized for overlooking the conative and purposeful side of experience, it can be thankful to its critics for reminding it of its own foundational principle that prioritizes the “ideal” over the “idea,” of needs over the understanding of their object. The real issue emerges in the effort, aimed at promoting freedom, to replace the idea of the world as a cosmos lacking any discernible principle and fundamentally indifferent to the shape given to it by its active components.

To the older idealism as to the new the essence of mind or spirit is freedom. But the guarantee of freedom is to be sought for not in the denial of law, but in the whole nature of mind and its relation to the structure of experience. Without mind no orderly world: only through the action of the subject and its “ideas” are the confused and incoherent data of sense-perception (themselves shot through with both strands) built up into that system of things we call Nature, and which stands out against the subject as the body stands out against the soul whose functioning may be said to have created it. On the other hand, without the world no mind: only through the action of the environment upon the subject is the idealizing activity in which it finds its being called into existence. Herein lies the paradox which is also the deepest truth of our spiritual life. In interpreting its environment first as a world of things that seem to stand in a relation of exclusion to one another and to itself, then as a natural system governed by rigid mechanical necessity, the mind can yet feel that in its very opposition the world is akin to it, bone of its bone and flesh of its flesh. What is true of mind is true of will. Idealism starts from the relativity of the world to purposive consciousness. But this again may be so stated as to represent only one side of the truth. It is equally true that the will is relative to the world of objects and interests to which it is attached through instincts and feelings, habits and sentiments. In isolation from its object the will is as much an abstraction as thought apart from the world of percepts, memories and associations which give it content and stability. And just as mind does not lose but gain in individuality in proportion as it parts with any claim to the capricious determination of what its world shall be, and becomes dominated by the conception of an order which is immutable so the will becomes free and “personal” in proportion as it identifies itself with objects and interests, and subordinates itself to laws and requirements which involve the suppression of all that is merely arbitrary and subjective. Here, too, subject and object grow together. The power and vitality of the one is the power and vitality of the other, and this is so because they are not two things with separate roots but are both rooted in a common reality which, while it includes, is more than either.

To both older and newer ideals, the essence of mind or spirit is freedom. However, the guarantee of freedom isn’t found in denying law, but in understanding the nature of the mind and its relationship to the structure of experience. Without the mind, there’s no orderly world: only through the actions of the subject and its “ideas” do the confusing and disjointed data of sense perception (which are intertwined with both elements) come together to form what we call Nature, standing apart from the subject, much like the body stands apart from the soul that can be said to have created it. On the flip side, without the world, there’s no mind: it is only through the influence of the environment on the subject that the idealizing activity that gives it existence comes to life. This presents a paradox that reveals the deepest truth of our spiritual existence. As it interprets its environment first as a world of things that seem to exclude each other and itself, then as a natural system governed by strict mechanical necessity, the mind can still sense that in its very opposition, the world is similar to it—part of its essence. What applies to the mind also applies to the will. Idealism begins with the relativity of the world to purposeful consciousness. However, this can be presented in a way that only shows one side of the truth. It’s equally true that the will is relative to the world of objects and interests it is connected to through instincts, feelings, habits, and sentiments. Separated from its object, the will is as much an abstraction as thought that exists apart from the world of perceptions, memories, and associations that provide it with meaning and stability. Just as the mind does not lose but rather gains individuality when it relinquishes control over what its world should be, embracing the idea of an immutable order, the will becomes free and “personal” to the extent that it aligns itself with objects and interests, subjecting itself to laws and requirements that suppress anything merely arbitrary and subjective. Here, too, subject and object develop together. The strength and vitality of one directly reflect the strength and vitality of the other, and this is true because they are not two separate entities with distinct roots but are both grounded in a common reality that, while encompassing both, exceeds either one individually.

Passing by these contentions as unmeaning or irrelevant and seeing nothing but irreconcilable contradiction between the conceptions of the world as immutable law and a self-determining subject pragmatism (q.v.) seeks other means of vindicating the reality of freedom. It agrees with older forms of libertarianism in taking its stand on the fact of spontaneity as primary and self-evidencing, 286 but it is not content to assert its existence side by side with rigidly determined sequence. It carries the war into the camp of the enemy by seeking to demonstrate that the completely determined action which is set over against freedom as the basis of explanation in the material world is merely a hypothesis which, while it serves sufficiently well the limited purpose for which it is devised, is incapable of verification in the ultimate constituents of physical nature. There seems in fact nothing to prevent us from holding that while natural laws express the average tendencies of multitudes they give no clue to the movement of individuals. Some have gone farther and argued that from the nature of the case no causal explanation of any real change in the world of things is possible. A cause is that which contains the effect (“causa aequat effectum”), but this is precisely what can never be proved with respect to anything that is claimed as a real cause in the concrete world. Everywhere the effect reveals an element which is indiscoverable in the cause with the result that the identity we seek for ever eludes us. Even the resultant of mechanical forces refuses to resolve itself into its constituents. In the “resultant” there is a new direction, and with it a new quality the component forces of which no analysis can discover.16

Ignoring these arguments as meaningless or irrelevant and seeing only an unresolvable contradiction between the idea of the world as an unchanging law and a self-determining subject, pragmatism seeks different ways to prove the reality of freedom. It aligns with older forms of libertarianism by emphasizing spontaneity as fundamental and self-evident, but it is not satisfied to merely claim its existence alongside a strictly determined sequence. It takes the fight to the opposition by attempting to show that the completely determined actions set against freedom, which serve as the basis for explanation in the material world, are just a hypothesis. While this hypothesis may function adequately for its intended purpose, it cannot be verified in the ultimate components of physical nature. In reality, there seems to be no reason we can't argue that while natural laws reflect the average tendencies of groups, they offer no insight into individual actions. Some have gone even further, claiming that it's impossible to offer a causal explanation for any real change in the world of things. A cause is something that contains its effect ("causa aequat effectum"), but this is exactly what can never be proven concerning anything that is claimed as a real cause in the concrete world. Everywhere, the effect shows elements that cannot be found in the cause, leading to the conclusion that the identity we seek always eludes us. Even the resultant of mechanical forces refuses to break down into its individual components. In the "resultant," there’s a new direction, and along with it, a new quality that no analysis of the component forces can uncover.

It is not here possible to do more than indicate what appear to be the valid elements in these two conflicting interpretations of the requirements of a true idealism. On behalf of the older it may be confidently affirmed that no solution is likely to find general acceptance which involves the rejection of the conception of unity and intelligible order as the primary principle of our world. The assertion of this principle by Kant was, we have seen, the corner-stone of idealistic philosophy in general, underlying as it does the conception of a permanent subject not less than that of a permanent object. As little from the side of knowledge is it likely that any theory will find acceptance which reduces all thought to a process of analysis and the discovery of abstract identity. There is no logical principle which requires that we should derive qualitative change by logical analysis from quantitative difference. Everywhere experience is synthetic: it gives us multiplicity in unity. Explanation of it does not require the annihilation of all differences but the apprehension of them in organic relation to one another and to the whole to which they belong. It was, as we have seen, this conception of thought as essentially synthetic for which Kant paved the way in his polemic against the formalism of his continental predecessors. The revival as in the above argument of the idea that the function of thought is the elimination of difference, and that rational connexion must fail where absolute identity is indiscoverable merely shows how imperfectly Kant’s lesson has been learned by some of those who prophesy in his name.

It’s not possible here to do more than point out what seem to be the valid points in these two conflicting interpretations of what true idealism requires. For the older viewpoint, it can confidently be said that no solution is likely to gain widespread acceptance if it involves rejecting the idea of unity and intelligible order as the fundamental principle of our world. Kant’s assertion of this principle was, as we have seen, the foundation of idealistic philosophy as a whole, as it supports both the idea of a permanent subject and that of a permanent object. Similarly, from the standpoint of knowledge, it’s unlikely that any theory will be accepted if it reduces all thought to merely analyzing and discovering abstract identity. There’s no logical principle that necessitates deriving qualitative change through logical analysis from quantitative difference. Experience is always synthetic: it presents us with multiplicity within unity. Explaining it doesn’t require eliminating all differences but rather understanding them in relation to each other and to the whole they belong to. As we’ve seen, Kant paved the way for the idea of thought as essentially synthetic in his critique of the formalism of his continental predecessors. The revival, as seen in the above argument, of the notion that the role of thought is to eliminate difference and that rational connection must fail where absolute identity cannot be found only shows how poorly some of those who claim to speak for Kant have understood his message.

Finally, apart from these more academic arguments there is an undoubted paradox in a theory which, at a moment when in whatever direction we look the best inspiration in poetry, sociology and physical science comes from the idea of the unity of the world, gives in its adhesion to pluralism on the ground of its preponderating practical value.

Finally, besides these more academic points, there’s a clear paradox in a theory that, at a time when the strongest inspiration in poetry, sociology, and physical science comes from the idea of the unity of the world, supports pluralism based on its dominant practical value.

On the other hand, idealism would be false to itself if it interpreted the unity which it thus seeks to establish in any sense that is incompatible with the validity of moral distinctions and human responsibility in the fullest sense of the term. It would on its side be, indeed, a paradox if at a time when the validity of human ideals and the responsibility of nations and individuals to realize them is more universally recognized than ever before on our planet, the philosophical theory which hitherto has been chiefly identified with their vindication should be turned against them. Yet the depth and extent of the dissatisfaction are sufficient evidence that the most recent developments are not free from ambiguity on this vital issue.

On the other hand, idealism would betray itself if it understood the unity it seeks to achieve in any way that clashes with the importance of moral distinctions and human responsibility in the fullest sense. It would indeed be a contradiction if, at a time when the significance of human ideals and the accountability of nations and individuals to achieve them is more widely recognized than ever before on our planet, the philosophical theory that has mostly been associated with defending these ideals were to be turned against them. However, the depth and breadth of the dissatisfaction are clear evidence that the latest developments are not without ambiguity on this crucial issue.

What is thus suggested is not a rash departure from the general point of view of idealism (by its achievements in every field to which it has been applied, “stat mole sua”) but a cautious inquiry into the possibility of reaching a conception of the world in which a place can be found at once for the idea of unity and determination and of movement and freedom. Any attempt here to anticipate what the course of an idealism inspired by such a spirit of caution and comprehension is likely to be cannot but appear dogmatic.

What’s being suggested isn’t a hasty rejection of idealism, considering its successes in all areas it’s been applied to (“stat mole sua”), but rather a careful exploration of the possibility of understanding the world in which we can incorporate both the idea of unity and determination, as well as movement and freedom. Any effort to predict the direction of an idealism shaped by such a cautious and comprehensive approach will likely come off as dogmatic.

Yet it may be permitted to make a suggestion. Taking for granted the unity of the world idealism is committed to interpret it as spiritual as a unity of spirits. This is implied in the phrase by which it has sought to signalize its break with Spinozism: “from substance to subject.” The universal or infinite is one that realizes itself in finite particular minds and wills, not as accidents or imperfections of it, but as its essential form. These on their side, to be subject in the true sense must be conceived of as possessing a life which is truly their own, the expression of their own nature as self-determinant. In saying subject we say self, in saying self we say free creator. No conception of the infinite can therefore be true which does not leave room for movement, process, free creation. Oldness, sameness, permanence of principle and direction, these must be, otherwise there is nothing; but newness of embodiment, existence, realization also, otherwise nothing is.

Yet it might be okay to make a suggestion. Assuming the unity of the world, idealism is committed to interpreting it as spiritual, as a unity of spirits. This is suggested in the phrase it has used to mark its break with Spinozism: “from substance to subject.” The universal or infinite is one that realizes itself in individual finite minds and wills, not as mere accidents or imperfections, but as its essential form. These, in turn, to be subjects in the true sense must be seen as having a life that is genuinely their own, reflecting their own nature as self-determining. When we say subject, we mean self; when we say self, we mean free creator. Therefore, no understanding of the infinite can be true if it doesn't allow for movement, process, and free creation. There must be oldness, sameness, and a permanence of principle and direction; otherwise, there is nothing; but there must also be newness of embodiment, existence, and realization, or else nothing is.

Now it is just to these implications in the idea of spirit that some of the prominent recent expositions of Idealism seem to have failed to do justice. They have failed particularly when they have left the idea of “determination” unpurged of the suggestion of time succession. The very word lends itself to this mistake. Idealists have gone beyond others in asserting that the subject in the sense of a being which merely repeats what has gone before is timeless. This involves that its activity cannot be truly conceived of as included in an antecedent, as an effect in a cause or one term of an equation in the other. As the activity of a subject or spirit it is essentially a new birth. It is this failure that has led to the present revolt against a “block universe.” But the difficulty is not to be met by running to the, opposite extreme in the assertion of a loose and ramshackle one. This is merely another way of perpetuating the mistake of allowing the notion of determination by an other or a preceding to continue to dominate us in a region where we have in reality passed from it to the notion of determination by self or by self-acknowledged ideals. As the correction from the one side consists in a more whole-hearted acceptance of the conception of determination by an ideal as the essence of mind, so from the other side it must consist in the recognition of the valuelessness of a freedom which does not mean submission to a self-chosen, though not self-created, law.

Now, it's precisely these implications in the concept of spirit that some recent prominent explanations of Idealism seem to overlook. They particularly fail when they leave the idea of “determination” tainted by the connotation of time succession. The very word lends itself to this error. Idealists have insisted more than others that the subject, as a being that merely repeats what has happened before, is timeless. This means that its activity cannot truly be seen as included in something that came before it, like an effect in a cause or one term of an equation in another. As the activity of a subject or spirit, it represents an essential new beginning. This oversight has contributed to the current backlash against a “block universe.” However, the issue cannot be resolved by swinging to the opposite extreme and claiming a loose, chaotic one. This merely repeats the mistake of allowing the idea of determination by an other or a preceding element to continue to dominate us in a context where we have actually transitioned to the idea of determination by self or by self-acknowledged ideals. Correcting from one side involves fully embracing the idea of determination by an ideal as the essence of mind, while from the other side, it must recognize the emptiness of a freedom that doesn't imply adherence to a self-chosen, although not self-created, law.

The solution here suggested is probably more likely to meet with opposition from the side of Idealism than of Pragmatism. It involves, it will be said, the reality of time, the dependence of the Infinite in the finite, and therewith a departure from the whole line of Hegelian thought. (1) It does surely involve the reality of time in the sense that it involves the reality of existence, which it is agreed is process. Without process the eternal is not complete or, if eternity means completeness, is not truly eternal. Our mistake lies in abstraction of the one from the other, which, as always, ends in confusion of the one with the other. Truth lies in giving each its place. Not only does eternity assert the conception of the hour but the hour asserts the conception of eternity—with what adequacy is another question. (2) The second of the above objections takes its point from the contradiction to religious consciousness which seems to be involved. This is certainly a mistake. Religious consciousness asserts, no doubt, that God is necessary to the soul: from Him as its inspiration, to Him as its ideal are all things. But it asserts with equal emphasis that the soul is necessary to God. To declare itself an unnecessary creation is surely on the part of the individual soul the height of impiety. God lives in the soul as it in Him. He also might say, from it as His offspring, to it as the object of His outgoing love are all things. (3) It is a mistake to attribute to Hegel the doctrine that time is an illusion. If in a well-known passage (Logic § 212) he seems to countenance the Spinoxistic view he immediately corrects it by assigning an “actualizing force” to this illusion and making it a “necessary dynamic element of truth.” Consistently with this we have the conclusion stated in the succeeding section on the Will. “Good, the final end of the world, has being only while it constantly produces itself. And the world of the spirit and the world of nature continue to have this distinction, that the latter moves only in a recurring cycle while the former certainly also makes progress.” The mistake is not Hegel’s but ours. It is to be remedied not by giving up the idea of the Infinite but by ceasing to think of the Infinite as of a being endowed with a static perfection which the finite will merely reproduces, and definitely recognizing the forward effort of the finite as an essential element in Its self-expression. If there be any truth in this suggestion it seems likely that the last word of idealism, like the first, will prove to be that the type of the highest reality is to be sought for not in any fixed Parmenidean circle of achieved being but in an ideal of good which while never fully expressed under the form of time can never become actual and so fulfil itself under any other.

The solution proposed here is likely to face more opposition from Idealism than from Pragmatism. It suggests the reality of time, the dependence of the Infinite on the finite, and, as a result, strays from the entire line of Hegelian thought. (1) It certainly involves the reality of time in that it engages with the reality of existence, which is universally recognized as a process. Without process, the eternal is incomplete or, if eternity means completeness, it isn’t truly eternal. Our error lies in abstracting one from the other, which always leads to confusion between the two. Truth lies in recognizing the place of both. Not only does eternity affirm the concept of the moment, but the moment also affirms the concept of eternity—how adequately is another question. (2) The second objection arises from the contradiction it seems to create with religious consciousness. This is undoubtedly an error. Religious consciousness asserts that God is essential to the soul: everything is inspired by Him and is an ideal derived from Him. But it equally asserts that the soul is essential to God. To claim oneself as an unnecessary creation is surely the height of impiety for the individual soul. God exists in the soul just as the soul exists in Him. He might also say that everything comes from it as His offspring and is directed to it as the object of His outgoing love. (3) It is incorrect to attribute the doctrine that time is an illusion to Hegel. If, in a well-known passage (Logic § 212), he seems to support the Spinozan view, he quickly corrects that by assigning an “actualizing force” to this illusion, making it a “necessary dynamic element of truth.” In line with this, we have the conclusion expressed in the next section on the Will: “Good, the ultimate purpose of the world, exists only while it continuously produces itself. The world of spirit and the world of nature maintain the distinction that the latter moves only in a recurring cycle while the former undoubtedly also progresses.” The mistake is not Hegel’s but ours. It should be corrected not by abandoning the idea of the Infinite but by stopping the view of the Infinite as a being with static perfection that the finite merely reproduces, and by recognizing the forward movement of the finite as a vital element in Its self-expression. If there is any truth in this suggestion, it seems likely that the final word of idealism, like the first, will conclude that the highest reality is to be sought not in any fixed Parmenidean circle of achieved existence but in an ideal of good that, while never fully expressed in the form of time, can never become real and thus fulfill itself in any other form.

Bibliography.—(A) General works besides those of the writers mentioned above: W. Wallace, Prolegomena to the Study of Hegel (1894), and Hegel’s Philosophy of Mind (1894); A. Seth and R. B. 287 Haldane, Essays in Phil. Criticism (1883); John Watson, Kant and his English Critics (1881); J. B. Baillie, Idealistic Construction of Experience (1906); J. S. Mackenzie, Outlines of Metaphysics (1902); A. E. Taylor, Elements of Metaphysics (1903); R. L. Nettleship, Lectures and Remains (1897); D. G. Ritchie, Philosophical Studies (1905).

References.—(A) General works in addition to those of the authors mentioned above: W. Wallace, Prolegomena to the Study of Hegel (1894), and Hegel’s Philosophy of Mind (1894); A. Seth and R. B. Haldane, Essays in Phil. Criticism (1883); John Watson, Kant and his English Critics (1881); J. B. Baillie, Idealistic Construction of Experience (1906); J. S. Mackenzie, Outlines of Metaphysics (1902); A. E. Taylor, Elements of Metaphysics (1903); R. L. Nettleship, Lectures and Remains (1897); D. G. Ritchie, Philosophical Studies (1905).

(B) Works on particular branches of philosophy: (a) Logic—F. H. Bradley, Principles of Logic (1883); B. Bosanquet, Logic (1888) and Essentials of Logic (1895). (b) Psychology—J. Dewey, Psychology (1886); G. F. Stout, Analytic Psychology (1896); B. Bosanquet, Psychology of the Moral Self (1897). (c) Ethics—F. H. Bradley, Ethical Studies (1876); J. Dewey, Ethics (1891); W. R. Sorley, Ethics of Naturalism (2nd ed., 1904); J. S. Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics (4th ed., 1900); J. H. Muirhead, Elements of Ethics (3rd ed., 1910). (d) Politics and Economics—B. Bosanquet, Philosophical Theory of the State (1899), and Aspects of the Social Problem (1895); B. Bonar, Philosophy and Political Economy in their historical Relations (1873); D. G. Ritchie, Natural Rights (1895); J. S. Mackenzie, An Introd. to Social Phil. (1890); J. MacCunn, Six Radical Thinkers (1907). (e) Aesthetic—B. Bosanquet, History of Aesthetic (1892), and Introd. to Hegel’s Phil. of the Fine Arts (1886); W. Hastie, Phil. of Art by Hegel and Michelet (1886). (f) Religion—J. Royce, Religious Aspect of Philosophy (1885), and The Conception of God (1897); R. B. Haldane, The Pathway to Reality (1903); E. Caird, Evolution of Religion (1893); J. Caird, Introd. to the Phil. of Religion (1880); H. Jones, Idealism as a Practical Creed (1909).

(B) Works on specific branches of philosophy: (a) Logic—F. H. Bradley, Principles of Logic (1883); B. Bosanquet, Logic (1888) and Essentials of Logic (1895). (b) Psychology—J. Dewey, Psychology (1886); G. F. Stout, Analytic Psychology (1896); B. Bosanquet, Psychology of the Moral Self (1897). (c) Ethics—F. H. Bradley, Ethical Studies (1876); J. Dewey, Ethics (1891); W. R. Sorley, Ethics of Naturalism (2nd ed., 1904); J. S. Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics (4th ed., 1900); J. H. Muirhead, Elements of Ethics (3rd ed., 1910). (d) Politics and Economics—B. Bosanquet, Philosophical Theory of the State (1899), and Aspects of the Social Problem (1895); B. Bonar, Philosophy and Political Economy in their Historical Relations (1873); D. G. Ritchie, Natural Rights (1895); J. S. Mackenzie, An Introduction to Social Philosophy (1890); J. MacCunn, Six Radical Thinkers (1907). (e) Aesthetics—B. Bosanquet, History of Aesthetics (1892), and Introduction to Hegel’s Philosophy of the Fine Arts (1886); W. Hastie, Philosophy of Art by Hegel and Michelet (1886). (f) Religion—J. Royce, Religious Aspect of Philosophy (1885), and The Conception of God (1897); R. B. Haldane, The Pathway to Reality (1903); E. Caird, Evolution of Religion (1893); J. Caird, Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion (1880); H. Jones, Idealism as a Practical Creed (1909).

(C) Recent Criticism. Besides works mentioned in the text: W. James, Pragmatism (1907), A Pluralistic Universe (1909), The Meaning of Truth (1909); H. Sturt, Personal Idealism (1902); F. C. S. Schiller, Humanism (1903); G. E. Moore, Principia Ethica; H. Rashdall, The Theory of Good and Evil (1907).

(C) Recent Criticism. In addition to the works mentioned in the text: W. James, Pragmatism (1907), A Pluralistic Universe (1909), The Meaning of Truth (1909); H. Sturt, Personal Idealism (1902); F. C. S. Schiller, Humanism (1903); G. E. Moore, Principia Ethica; H. Rashdall, The Theory of Good and Evil (1907).

See also Ethics and Metaphysics.

See also Ethics and Metaphysics.

(J. H. Mu.)

1 Kritik d. reinen Vernunft, p. 197 (ed. Hartenstein).

1 Critique of Pure Reason, p. 197 (ed. Hartenstein).

2 Institutes of Metaphysics (1854); Works (1866).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Metaphysics Institutes (1854); Works (1866).

3 Secret of Hegel (1865).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hegel's Secret (1865).

4 Dialogues of Plato (1871).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Plato's Dialogues (1871).

5 Journal of Spec. Phil. (1867).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Journal of Spec. Phil. (1867).

6 Hume’s Phil. Works (1875).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hume’s Philosophical Works (1875).

7 Critical account of the Phil. of Kant (1877).

7 Critical account of the Philosophy of Kant (1877).

8 Knowledge and Reality (1885); Logic (1888).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Knowledge and Reality (1885); Logic (1888).

9 Appearance and Reality (1893).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Appearance vs. Reality (1893).

10 Studies in Hegelian Cosmology (1901).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Studies in Hegelian Cosmology (1901).

11 Elements of Metaphysics (1903).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Elements of Metaphysics (1903).

12 The World and the individual (1901).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The World and the Individual (1901).

13 See Mind, New Series, xii. p. 433 sqq.

13 See Mind, New Series, xii. p. 433 sqq.

14 Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society (1900-1901), p. 110.

14 Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society (1900-1901), p. 110.

15 Mind, New Series, xiii. p. 523; cf. 204, 350.

15 Mind, New Series, xiii. p. 523; cf. 204, 350.

16 The most striking statement of this argument is to be found in Boutroux’s treatise De la contingence des lois de la nature, first published in 1874 and reprinted without alteration in 1905. The same general line of thought underlies James Ward’s Naturalism and Agnosticism (2nd ed., 1903), and A. J. Balfour’s Foundations of Belief (8th ed., 1901). H. Bergson’s works on the other hand contain the elements of a reconstruction similar in spirit to the suggestions of the present article.

16 The most striking point of this argument can be found in Boutroux’s book De la contingence des lois de la nature, first published in 1874 and reprinted unchanged in 1905. The same general idea is present in James Ward’s Naturalism and Agnosticism (2nd ed., 1903), and A. J. Balfour’s Foundations of Belief (8th ed., 1901). H. Bergson’s works, on the other hand, include elements of a reconstruction that aligns with the suggestions in this article.


IDELER, CHRISTIAN LUDWIG (1766-1846), German chronologist and astronomer, was born near Perleberg on the 21st of September 1766. After holding various official posts under the Prussian government he became professor at the university of Berlin in 1821, and eighteen years later foreign member of the Institute of France. From 1816 to 1822 he was tutor to the young princes William Frederick and Charles. He died in Berlin on the 10th of August 1846. He devoted his life chiefly to the examination of ancient systems of chronology. In 1825-1826 he published his great work, Handbuch der mathematischen und technischen Chronologie (2 vols.; 2nd ed., 1883), re-edited as Lehrbuch der Chronologie (1831); a supplementary volume, Die Zeitrechnung der Chinesen, appeared in 1839. Beside these important works he wrote also Untersuchungen über d. Ursprung und d. Bedeutung d. Sternnamen (1809) and Über d. Ursprung d. Thierkreises (1838). With Nolte he published handbooks on English and French language and literature. His son, Julius Ludwig Ideler (1809-1842), wrote Meteorologia veterum Graecorum et Romanorum (1832).

IDELER, CHRISTIAN LUDWIG (1766-1846), was a German chronologist and astronomer, born near Perleberg on September 21, 1766. After serving in various official roles under the Prussian government, he became a professor at the University of Berlin in 1821, and eighteen years later he was elected a foreign member of the Institute of France. From 1816 to 1822, he was a tutor to the young princes William Frederick and Charles. He passed away in Berlin on August 10, 1846. He dedicated his life mainly to studying ancient systems of chronology. In 1825-1826, he published his major work, Handbuch der mathematischen und technischen Chronologie (2 vols.; 2nd ed., 1883), later re-edited as Lehrbuch der Chronologie (1831); a supplementary volume, Die Zeitrechnung der Chinesen, came out in 1839. In addition to these important works, he also wrote Untersuchungen über d. Ursprung und d. Bedeutung d. Sternnamen (1809) and Über d. Ursprung d. Thierkreises (1838). Along with Nolte, he published handbooks on English and French language and literature. His son, Julius Ludwig Ideler (1809-1842), authored Meteorologia veterum Graecorum et Romanorum (1832).


IDENTIFICATION (Lat. idem, the same), the process of proving any one’s identity, i.e. that he is the man he purports to be, or—if he is pretending to be some one else—the man he really is; or in case of dispute, that he is the man he is alleged to be. As more strenuous efforts have been made for the pursuit of criminals, and more and more severe penalties are inflicted on old offenders, means of identification have become essential, and various processes have been tried to secure that desirable end. For a long time they continued to be most imperfect; nothing better was devised than rough and ready methods of recognition depending upon the memories of officers of the law or the personal impressions of witnesses concerned in the case, supplemented in more recent years by photographs, not always a safe and unerring guide. The machinery employed was cumbrous, wasteful of time and costly. Detective policemen were marched in a body to inspect arrested prisoners in the exercising yards of the prison. Accused persons were placed in the midst of a number of others of approximately like figure and appearance, and the prosecutor and witnesses were called in one by one to pick out the offender. Inquiries, with a detailed description of distinctive marks, and photographs were circulated far and wide to local police forces. Officers, police and prison wardens were despatched in person to give evidence of identity at distant courts. Mis-identification was by no means rare. Many remarkable cases may be quoted. One of the most notable was that of the Frenchman Lesurques, in the days of the Directory, who was positively identified as having robbed the Lyons mail and suffered death, protesting his innocence of the crime, which was afterwards brought home to another man, Duboscq, and this terrible judicial error proved to be the result of the extraordinary likeness between the two men. Another curious case is to be found in American records, when a man was indicted for bigamy as James Hoag, who averred that he was really Thomas Parker. There was a marvellous conflict of testimony, even wives and families and personal friends being misled, and there was a narrow escape of mis-identification. The leading modern case in England is that of Adolf Beck (1905). Beck (who eventually died at the end of 1909) was arrested on the complaint of a number of women who positively swore to his identity as Smith, a man who had defrauded them. An ex-policeman who had originally arrested Smith also swore that Beck was the same man. There was a grave miscarriage of justice. Beck was sentenced to penal servitude, and although a closer examination of the personal marks showed that Beck could not possibly be Smith, it was only after a scandalous delay, due to the obstinacy of responsible officials, that relief was afforded. It has to be admitted that evidence as to identity based on personal impressions is perhaps of all classes of evidence the least to be relied upon.

IDENTIFICATION (Lat. idem, meaning the same), is the process of proving someone's identity, that they are who they claim to be or, if they are pretending to be someone else, that they are really the person they are. In cases of dispute, it involves proving that they are the person they’re alleged to be. As more effort has been put into catching criminals, and harsher penalties have been applied to repeat offenders, effective means of identification have become crucial. Various methods have been tested to achieve this goal. For a long time, these methods were quite inadequate; the best options available relied on the memories of law enforcement officials or personal impressions from witnesses in the case, later supplemented by photographs, which are not always reliable. The systems in place were clumsy, time-consuming, and expensive. Detective officers would be gathered to identify arrested individuals in the prison exercise yard. Accused individuals were placed among a group of others with similar appearances, and prosecutors and witnesses were called in one at a time to identify the suspect. Descriptions of distinctive features and photographs were circulated widely among local police forces. Officers, police, and prison guards were sent in person to testify about identity in distant courts. Misidentification happened quite often. Many remarkable cases illustrate this. One well-known case was that of the Frenchman Lesurques during the Directory period, who was wrongly identified as having robbed the Lyons mail and was executed while maintaining his innocence, a crime later attributed to another man, Duboscq, due to the striking resemblance between the two. Another interesting case from American records involved a man indicted for bigamy as James Hoag, who claimed he was actually Thomas Parker. The testimony was conflicting, with even wives and personal friends being confused, leading to a close call with misidentification. A significant modern case in England is that of Adolf Beck (1905). Beck (who eventually died at the end of 1909) was arrested based on complaints from several women who confidently identified him as Smith, a man who had defrauded them. An ex-police officer who originally arrested Smith also testified that Beck was the same individual. This led to a serious miscarriage of justice. Beck was sentenced to penal servitude, and although a closer inspection of personal features revealed that Beck could not possibly be Smith, relief was only granted after a scandalous delay caused by the stubbornness of the officials involved. It must be acknowledged that evidence of identity based on personal impressions is likely the least reliable of all types of evidence.

Such elements of uncertainty cannot easily be eliminated from any system of jurisprudence, but some improvements in the methods of identification have been introduced in recent years. The first was in the adoption of anthropometry (q.v.), which was invented by the French savant, A. Bertillon. The reasons that led to its general supersession may be summed up in its costliness, the demand for superior skill in subordinate agents and the liability to errors not easy to trace and correct. A still more potent reason remained, the comparative failure of results. It was found in the first four years of its use in England and Wales that an almost inappreciable number of identifications were effected by the anthropometric system; namely, 152 in 1898, 243 in 1899, 462 in 1900, and 503 in 1901, the year in which it was supplemented by the use of “finger prints” (q.v.). The figures soon increased by leaps and bounds. In 1902 the total number of searches among the records were 6826 and the identifications 1722 for London and the provinces; in 1903 the searches were 11,919, the identifications 3642; for the first half of 1904 the searches were 6697 and the identifications 2335. In India and some of the colonies the results were still more remarkable; the recognitions in 1903 were 9512, and 17,289 in 1904. Were returns available from other countries very similar figures would no doubt be shown. Among these countries are Ireland, Australasia, Ceylon, South Africa, and many great cities of the United States; and the system is extending to Germany, Austria-Hungary and other parts of Europe.

Such elements of uncertainty can't easily be removed from any legal system, but there have been some improvements in identification methods in recent years. The first was the adoption of anthropometry (q.v.), which was created by the French scholar A. Bertillon. The main reasons it was largely replaced include its high cost, the need for greater skill from lower-level agents, and the difficulty in tracing and correcting errors. An even bigger reason was the relatively poor results. In the first four years of its use in England and Wales, only a tiny number of identifications were made through the anthropometric system: 152 in 1898, 243 in 1899, 462 in 1900, and 503 in 1901, the year it was enhanced by the addition of “fingerprints” (q.v.). The numbers quickly surged. In 1902, the total number of searches among the records was 6,826, leading to 1,722 identifications in London and the provinces; in 1903, searches reached 11,919, with 3,642 identifications; and for the first half of 1904, there were 6,697 searches and 2,335 identifications. In India and some colonies, the results were even more impressive; in 1903, there were 9,512 recognitions, and in 1904, 17,289. If data were available from other countries, similar figures would likely emerge. These countries include Ireland, Australasia, Ceylon, South Africa, and many major cities in the United States, and the system is spreading to Germany, Austria-Hungary, and other parts of Europe.

The record of finger prints in England and Wales is kept by the Metropolitan police at New Scotland Yard. They were at first limited to persons convicted at courts at quarter sessions and assizes and to all persons sentenced at minor courts to more than a month without option of fine for serious offences. The finger prints when taken by prison warders are forwarded to London for registration and reference on demand. The total number of finger-print slips was 70,000 in 1904, and weekly additions were being made at the rate of 350 slips. The advantages of the record system need not be emphasized. By its means identification is prompt, inevitable and absolutely accurate. By forwarding the finger prints of all remanded prisoners to New Scotland Yard, their antecedents are established beyond all hesitation.

The record of fingerprints in England and Wales is maintained by the Metropolitan Police at New Scotland Yard. Initially, it was limited to individuals convicted in quarter sessions and assizes, as well as anyone sentenced in minor courts to more than a month without the option of a fine for serious offenses. When fingerprints are taken by prison warders, they are sent to London for registration and can be referenced upon request. The total number of fingerprint slips was 70,000 in 1904, with weekly additions at a rate of 350 slips. The benefits of the record system speak for themselves. It allows for prompt, reliable, and completely accurate identification. By sending the fingerprints of all remanded prisoners to New Scotland Yard, their backgrounds are confirmed without any doubt.

In past times identification of criminals who had passed through the hands of the law was compassed by branding, imprinting by a hot iron, or tattooing with an indelible sign, such as a crown, fleur de lys or initials upon the shoulder or other part of the body. This practice, long since abandoned, was in a measure continued in the British army, when offenders against military law were ordered by sentence of court-martial to be marked with “D” for deserter and “B.C.” bad character; this ensured their recognition and prevented re-enlistment; but all such penalties have now disappeared.

In the past, identifying criminals who had gone through the legal system involved branding, using a hot iron to make an imprint, or tattooing an indelible mark, like a crown, fleur de lys, or initials on the shoulder or another part of the body. This practice has long been discontinued, but a similar method continued in the British army, where offenders against military law were sentenced by court-martial to be marked with "D" for deserter and "B.C." for bad character; this ensured they could be recognized and prevented them from re-enlisting. However, all such penalties have now been eliminated.

(A. G.)

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IDEOGRAPH (Gr. ἰδέα, idea, and γράφειν, to write), a symbol or character painted, written or inscribed, representing ideas and not sounds; such a form of writing is found in Chinese and in most of the Egyptian hieroglyphs (see Writing).

IDEOGRAPH (Gr. idea, idea, and write, to write), a symbol or character that is painted, written, or inscribed, representing ideas rather than sounds; this type of writing is found in Chinese and in most of the Egyptian hieroglyphs (see Writing).


IDIOBLAST (Gr. ἴδιος, peculiar, and βλαστός, a shoot), a botanical term for an individual cell which is distinguished by its shape, size or contents, such as the stone-cells in the soft tissue of a pear.

IDIOBLAST (Gr. same, unique, and budding, a shoot), is a botanical term for a single cell that is identified by its shape, size, or contents, like the stone cells found in the soft tissue of a pear.


IDIOM (Gr. ἰδίωμα, something peculiar and personal; ἴδιος, one’s own, personal), a form of expression whether in words, grammatical construction, phraseology, &c., which is peculiar to a language; sometimes also a special variety of a particular language, a dialect.

IDIOM (Gr. idiolect, something unique and personal; identical, one's own, personal), a way of expressing something through words, sentence structure, phrases, etc., that is specific to a language; it can also refer to a distinct form of a particular language, a dialect.


IDIOSYNCRASY (Gr. ἰδιοσυγρασία, peculiar habit of body or temperament; ἴδιος, one’s own, and σύγκρασις, blending, tempering, from συγκεράννυσθαι, to put together, compound, mix), a physical or mental condition peculiar to an individual usually taking the form of a special susceptibility to particular stimuli; thus it is an idiosyncrasy of one individual that abnormal sensations of discomfort should be excited by certain odours or colours, by the presence in the room of a cat, &c.; similarly certain persons are found to be peculiarly responsive or irresponsive to the action of particular drugs. The word is also used, generally, of any eccentricity or peculiarity of character, appearance, &c.

IDIOSYNCRASY (Gr. idiosyncrasy, a unique habit of body or temperament; same, one's own, and σύγκρασις, blending, tempering, from συγκεράννυσθαι, to combine, mix), is a physical or mental condition unique to an individual that typically shows up as a distinct sensitivity to specific stimuli. For example, it might be an idiosyncrasy of one person to experience unusual discomfort from certain smells or colors, or when a cat is present in the room, etc.; likewise, some people may have unusual reactions or lack thereof to specific medications. The term also generally refers to any eccentricity or oddity in character, appearance, etc.


IDOLATRY, the worship (Gr. λατρεία) of idols (Gr. εἴδωλον), i.e. images or other objects, believed to represent or be the abode of a superhuman personality. The term is often used generically to include such varied, forms as litholatry, dendrolatry, pyrolatry, zoolatry and even necrolatry. In an age when the study of religion was practically confined to Judaism and Christianity, idolatry was regarded as a degeneration from an uncorrupt primeval faith, but the comparative and historical investigation of religion has shown it to be rather a stage of an upward movement, and that by no means the earliest. It is not found, for instance, among Bushmen, Fuegians, Eskimos, while it reached a high development among the great civilizations of the ancient world in both hemispheres.1 Its earliest stages are to be sought in naturism and animism. To give concreteness to the vague ideas thus worshipped the idol, at first rough and crude, comes to the help of the savage, and in course of time through inability to distinguish subjective and objective, comes to be identified with the idea it originally symbolized. The degraded form of animism known as fetichism is usually the direct antecedent of idolatry. A fetich is adored, not for itself, but for the spirit who dwells in it and works through it. Fetiches of stone or wood were at a very early age shaped and polished or coloured and ornamented. A new step was taken when the top of the log or stone was shaped like a human head; the rest of the body soon followed. The process can be followed with some distinctness in Greece. Sometimes, as in Babylonia and India, the representation combined human and animal forms, but the human figure is the predominant model; man makes God after his own image.

IDOLATRY,__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ the worship (Gr. worship) of idols (Gr. idol), i.e. images or other objects believed to represent or house a superhuman being. The term is often used to include various forms like litholatry, dendrolatry, pyrolatry, zoolatry, and even necrolatry. In a time when the study of religion was mainly focused on Judaism and Christianity, idolatry was seen as a decline from an original pure faith. However, the comparative and historical study of religion has shown it to be more of a stage in an upward progression, and definitely not the earliest stage. For example, it’s not found among Bushmen, Fuegians, or Eskimos, but it developed significantly in the major civilizations of the ancient world across both hemispheres. Its earliest forms are linked to naturism and animism. To give substance to the vague concepts worshipped, the idol, initially rough and crude, assists the primitive person, and over time, through the inability to differentiate between subjective and objective, it becomes identified with the idea it originally represented. The degraded form of animism known as fetishism usually precedes idolatry directly. A fetish is worshipped not for itself, but for the spirit that resides in it and operates through it. In early times, fetishes made of stone or wood were shaped, polished, colored, or adorned. A significant step was when the top of a log or stone was carved to resemble a human head; the rest of the body soon followed. This process can be distinctly traced in Greece. Sometimes, as seen in Babylonia and India, the representations combined human and animal forms, but the human figure remained the primary model; humans create gods in their own image.

Idols may be private and personal like the teraphim of the Hebrews or the little figures found in early Egyptian tombs, or—a late development, public and tribal or national. Some, like the ancestral images among the Maoris, are the intermittent abodes of the spirits of the dead.

Idols can be private and personal, like the teraphim of the Hebrews or the small figures found in early Egyptian tombs, or—later on—they can be public and related to tribes or nations. Some, like the ancestral images among the Maoris, serve as temporary homes for the spirits of the deceased.

As the earlier stages in the development of the religious consciousness persist and are often manifest in idolatry, so in the higher stages, when men have attained loftier spiritual ideas, idolatry itself survives and is abundantly visible as a reactionary tendency. The history of the Jewish people whom the prophets sought, for long in vain, to wean from worshipping images is an illustration: so too the vulgarities of modern popular Hinduism contrasted with the lofty teaching of the Indian sacred books.

As the earlier stages of religious awareness continue and often show up in idol worship, in the higher stages—when people have reached greater spiritual understanding—idol worship itself still exists and is clearly seen as a backward move. The history of the Jewish people, whom the prophets tried, often unsuccessfully, to discourage from idol worship is an example of this; similarly, the crudeness of modern popular Hinduism stands in contrast to the profound teachings found in the Indian sacred texts.

In the New Testament the word εἰδωλολατρεία (idololatria, afterwards shortened occasionally to εἰδολατρεία, idolatria) occurs in all four times, viz. in 1 Cor. x. 14; Gal. v. 20; 1 Peter iv. 3; Col. iii. 5. In the last of these passages it is used to describe the sin of covetousness or “mammon-worship.” In the other places it indicates with the utmost generality all the rites and practices of those special forms of paganism with which Christianity first came into collision. It can only be understood by reference to the LXX., where εἴδωλον (like the word “idol” in A.V.) occasionally translates indifferently no fewer than sixteen words by which in the Old Testament the objects of what the later Jews called “strange worship” (עבודה זרה) are denoted (see Encyclopaedia Biblica). In the widest acceptation of the word, idolatry in any form is absolutely forbidden in the second commandment, which runs “Thou shalt not make unto thee a graven image; [and] to no visible shape in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the water under the earth, shalt thou bow down or render service” (see Decalogue). For some account of the questions connected with the breaches of this law which are recorded in the history of the Israelites see the article Jews; those differences as to the interpretation of the prohibition which have so seriously divided Christendom are discussed under the head of Iconoclasts.

In the New Testament, the word idol worship (idololatria, later sometimes shortened to idol worship, idolatria) appears four times: in 1 Cor. x. 14; Gal. v. 20; 1 Peter iv. 3; and Col. iii. 5. In the last reference, it refers to the sin of greed or "mammon-worship." In the other instances, it generally signifies all the rituals and practices of the specific forms of paganism that Christianity originally confronted. Its meaning can only be fully grasped by looking at the LXX., where idol (similar to the word "idol" in the A.V.) sometimes translates as many as sixteen words that denote what the later Jews referred to as “strange worship” (Idolatry) (see Encyclopaedia Biblica). In its broadest sense, idolatry in any form is strictly prohibited by the second commandment, which states, "You shall not make for yourself a carved image; [and] you shall not bow down to any visible form in heaven above, or on the earth below, or in the water under the earth" (see Decalogue). For a discussion of the issues related to violations of this law recorded in the history of the Israelites, see the article Jews; the differences in interpreting this prohibition that have significantly divided Christendom are explored under Iconoclasts.

In the ancient church, idolatry was naturally reckoned among those magna crimina or great crimes against the first and second commandments which involved the highest ecclesiastical censures. Not only were those who had gone openly to heathen temples and partaken in the sacrifices (sacrificati) or burnt incense (thurificati) held guilty of this crime; the same charge, in various degrees, was incurred by those whose renunciation of idolatry had been private merely, or who otherwise had used unworthy means to evade persecution, by those also who had feigned themselves mad to avoid sacrificing, by all promoters and encouragers of idolatrous rites, and by idol makers, incense sellers and architects or builders of structures connected with idol worship. Idolatry was made a crime against the state by the laws of Constantius (Cod. Theod. xvi. 10. 4, 6), forbidding all sacrifices on pain of death, and still more by the statutes of Theodosius (Cod. Theod. xvi. 10. 12) enacted in 392, in which sacrifice and divination were declared treasonable and punishable with death; the use of lights, incense, garlands and libations was to involve the forfeiture of house and land where they were used; and all who entered heathen temples were to be fined. See Bingham, Antiqq. bk. xvi. c. 4.

In the early church, idolatry was considered one of the serious crimes against the first and second commandments, leading to the most severe church punishments. People who openly went to pagan temples and participated in sacrifices (sacrificati) or burned incense (thurificati) were found guilty of this sin; the same accusation applied, to varying degrees, to those whose renunciation of idolatry was merely private or who used unworthy means to escape persecution. This also included anyone who pretended to be insane to avoid making sacrifices, as well as all promoters and supporters of idolatrous practices, idol makers, incense sellers, and those who constructed buildings related to idol worship. Idolatry was also criminalized by state laws under Constantius (Cod. Theod. xvi. 10. 4, 6), which banned all sacrifices under the penalty of death. It was further enforced by Theodosius's laws (Cod. Theod. xvi. 10. 12) established in 392, which classified sacrifice and divination as treasonous acts punishable by death. Using lights, incense, garlands, and libations could result in the loss of property and land where these were employed, and anyone entering pagan temples faced fines. See Bingham, Antiqq. bk. xvi. c. 4.

See also Image-worship; and on the whole question, Religion.

See also Image-worship; and regarding the broader issue, Religion.


1 According to Varro the Romans had no animal or human image of a god for 170 years after the founding of the city; Herodotus (i. 131) says the Persians had no temples or idols before Artaxerxes I.; Lucian (De sacrif. 11) bears similar testimony for Greece and as to idols (Dea Syr. 3) for Egypt. Eusebius (Praep. Evang. i. 9) sums up the theory of antiquity in his statement “the oldest peoples had no idols.” Images of the gods indeed presuppose a definiteness of conception and powers of discrimination that could only be the result of history and reflection. The iconic age everywhere succeeded to an era in which the objects of worship were aniconic, e.g. wooden posts, stone steles, cones.

1 According to Varro, the Romans didn’t have any animal or human representations of a god for 170 years after the city was founded; Herodotus (i. 131) mentions that the Persians had no temples or idols before Artaxerxes I.; Lucian (De sacrif. 11) gives similar evidence for Greece, and regarding idols (Dea Syr. 3) for Egypt. Eusebius (Praep. Evang. i. 9) summarizes the ancient theory with his statement, “the oldest peoples had no idols.” Images of the gods really require a clear conception and the ability to distinguish that could only come from history and deep thought. The iconic age everywhere came after a time when the objects of worship were aniconic, e.g. wooden posts, stone steles, cones.


IDOMENEUS, in Greek legend, son of Deucalion, grandson of Minos and Pasiphaë, and king of Crete. As a descendant of Zeus and famous for his beauty, he was one of the suitors of Helen; hence, after her abduction by Paris, he took part in the Trojan War, in which he distinguished himself by his bravery. He is mentioned as a special favourite of Agamemnon (Iliad, iv. 257). According to Homer (Odyssey, iii. 191), he returned home safely with all his countrymen who had survived the war, but later legend connects him with an incident similar to that of Jephtha’s daughter. Having been overtaken by a violent storm, to ensure his safety he vowed to sacrifice to Poseidon the first living thing that met him when he landed on his native shore. This proved to be his son, whom he slew in accordance with his vow; whereupon a plague broke out in the island, and Idomeneus was driven out. He fled to the district of Sallentum in Calabria, and subsequently to Colophon in Asia Minor, where he settled near the temple of the Clarian Apollo and was buried on Mount Cercaphus (Virgil, Aeneid, iii. 121, 400, 531, and Servius on those passages). But the Cretans showed his grave at Cnossus, where he was worshipped as a hero with Meriones (Diod. Sic. v. 79).

IDOMENEUS, in Greek mythology, was the son of Deucalion, the grandson of Minos and Pasiphaë, and king of Crete. As a descendant of Zeus known for his beauty, he was one of Helen's suitors; therefore, after she was taken by Paris, he participated in the Trojan War, where he proved his courage. He is noted as a close favorite of Agamemnon (Iliad, iv. 257). According to Homer (Odyssey, iii. 191), he returned home safely with all of his surviving countrymen after the war, but later legends link him to an event similar to that of Jephtha’s daughter. Struck by a fierce storm, he vowed to sacrifice the first living thing he encountered upon reaching his homeland to ensure his safety. This turned out to be his son, whom he killed to fulfill his vow; as a result, a plague hit the island, and Idomeneus was exiled. He escaped to the region of Sallentum in Calabria, then to Colophon in Asia Minor, where he settled near the temple of the Clarian Apollo and was buried on Mount Cercaphus (Virgil, Aeneid, iii. 121, 400, 531, and Servius on those passages). However, the Cretans claimed to show his grave at Cnossus, where he was worshipped as a hero alongside Meriones (Diod. Sic. v. 79).

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IDRIA, a mining town in Carniola, Austria, 25 m. W. of Laibach. Pop. (1900) 5772. It is situated in a narrow Alpine valley, on the river Idria, an affluent of the Isonzo, and owes its prosperity to the rich mines of quicksilver which were accidentally discovered in 1497. Since 1580 they have been under the management of the government. The mercurial ore lies in a bed of clay slate, and is found both mingled with schist and in the form of cinnabar. A special excellence of the ore is the greatness of the yield of pure metal compared with the amount of the refuse. As regards the quantity annually extracted, the mines of Idria rank second to those of Almaden in Spain, which are the richest in the world.

IDRIA, is a mining town in Carniola, Austria, located 25 miles west of Laibach. Its population was 5,772 in 1900. The town is nestled in a narrow Alpine valley by the Idria River, a tributary of the Isonzo, and it owes its success to the rich quicksilver mines that were accidentally found in 1497. Since 1580, these mines have been managed by the government. The mercurial ore is found in a layer of clay slate and occurs both mixed with schist and as cinnabar. A key feature of the ore is the high yield of pure metal in relation to the waste produced. In terms of the quantity mined each year, the Idria mines rank second only to those of Almaden in Spain, which are the richest in the world.


IDRIALIN, a mineral wax accompanying the mercury ore in Idria. According to Goldschmidt it can be extracted by means of xylol, amyl alcohol or turpentine; also without decomposition, by distillation in a current of hydrogen, or carbon dioxide. It is a white crystalline body, very difficultly fusible, boiling above 440° C. (824° F.), of the composition C40H28O. Its solution in glacial acetic acid, by oxidation with chromic acid, yielded a red powdery solid and a fatty acid fusing at 62° C., and exhibiting all the characters of a mixture of palmitic and stearic acids.

IDRIALIN, is a mineral wax found with mercury ore in Idria. According to Goldschmidt, it can be extracted using xylol, amyl alcohol, or turpentine; it can also be distilled without breaking down using hydrogen or carbon dioxide. It appears as a white crystalline substance that melts very slowly, boiling at temperatures above 440° C. (824° F.), with the chemical formula C40H28O. When dissolved in glacial acetic acid and oxidized with chromic acid, it produces a red powdery solid and a fatty acid that melts at 62° C., showing characteristics of a mixture of palmitic and stearic acids.


IDRISI, or Edrisi [Abu Abdallah Mahommed Ibn Mahommed Ibn Abdallah Ibn Idrisi, c. A.D. 1099-1154], Arabic geographer. Very little is known of his life. Having left Islamic lands and become the courtier and panegyrist of a Christian prince, though himself a descendant of the Prophet, he was probably regarded by strict Moslems as a scandal, whose name should not, if possible, be mentioned. His great-grandfather, Idrisi II., “Biamrillah,” a member of the great princely house which had reigned for a time as caliphs in north-west Africa, was prince of Malaga, and likewise laid claim to the supreme title (Commander of the Faithful). After his death in 1055, Malaga was seized by Granada (1057), and the Idrisi family then probably migrated to Ceuta, where a freedman of theirs held power. Here the geographer appears to have been born in A.H. 493 (A.D. 1099). He is said to have studied at Cordova, and this tradition is confirmed by his elaborate and enthusiastic description of that city in his geography. From this work we know that he had visited, at some period of his life before A.D. 1154, both Lisbon and the mines of Andalusia. He had also once resided near Morocco city, and once was at (Algerian) Constantine. More precisely, he tells us that in A.D. 1117 he went to see the cave of the Seven Sleepers at Ephesus; he probably travelled extensively in Asia Minor. From doubtful readings in his text some have inferred that he had seen part of the coasts of France and England. We do not know when Roger II. of Sicily (1101-1154) invited him to his court, but it must have been between 1125 and 1150. Idrisi made for the Norman king a celestial sphere and a disk representing the known world of his day—both in silver. These only absorbed one-third of the metal that had been given him for the work, but Roger bestowed on him the remaining two-thirds as a present, adding to this 100,000 pieces of money and the cargo of a richly-laden ship from Barcelona. Roger next enlisted Idrisi’s services in the compilation of a fresh description of the “inhabited earth” from observation, and not merely from books. The king and his geographer chose emissaries whom they sent out into various countries to observe, record and design; as they returned, Idrisi inserted in the new geography the information they brought. Thus was gradually completed (by the month of Shawwal, A.H. 548 = mid-January, A.D. 1154), the famous work, best known, from its patron and originator, as Al Rojari, but whose fullest title seems to have been, The going out of a Curious Man to explore the Regions of the Globe, its Provinces, Islands, Cities and their Dimensions and Situation. This has been abbreviated to The Amusement of him who desires to traverse the Earth, or The Relaxation of a Curious Mind. The title of Nubian Geography, based upon Sionita and Hezronita’s misreading of a passage relating to Nubia and the Nile, is entirely unwarranted and misleading. The Rogerian Treatise contains a full description of the world as far as it was known to the author. The “inhabited earth” is divided into seven “climates,” beginning at the equinoctial line, and extending northwards to the limit at which the earth was supposed to be rendered uninhabitable by cold. Each climate is then divided by perpendicular lines into eleven equal parts, beginning with the western coast of Africa and ending with the eastern coast of Asia. The whole world is thus formed into seventy-seven equal square compartments. The geographer begins with the first part of the first climate, including the westernmost part of the Sahara and a small (north-westerly) section of the Sudan (of which a vague knowledge had now been acquired by the Moslems of Barbary), and thence proceeds eastward through the different divisions of this climate till he finds its termination in the Sea of China. He then returns to the first part of the second climate, and so proceeds till he reaches the eleventh part of the seventh climate, which terminates in north-east Asia, as he conceives that continent. The inconveniences of the arrangement (ignoring all divisions, physical, political, linguistic or religious, which did not coincide with those of his “climates”) are obvious.

IDRISI or Edrisi [Abu Abdallah Mahommed Ibn Mahommed Ibn Abdallah Ibn Idrisi, c. CE 1099-1154], was an Arabic geographer. Very little is known about his life. After leaving the Islamic world, he became a courtier and poet for a Christian prince, despite being a descendant of the Prophet, which likely made him a source of scandal among strict Muslims, who probably preferred not to mention his name. His great-grandfather, Idrisi II., “Biamrillah,” was part of the prominent princely family that ruled as caliphs in northwest Africa for a time and was the prince of Malaga, claiming the title of Commander of the Faithful. Following his death in 1055, Malaga fell to Granada in 1057, and the Idrisi family likely moved to Ceuta, where a freedman of theirs was in power. It seems that the geographer was born here in A.H. 493 (A.D. 1099). He is believed to have studied in Cordova, a tradition supported by his detailed and enthusiastic description of that city in his geography. From this work, we know he visited both Lisbon and the mines of Andalusia at some point before CE 1154. He had also lived near Morocco city and in (Algerian) Constantine. Specifically, he tells us that in CE 1117, he visited the cave of the Seven Sleepers at Ephesus; he likely traveled widely in Asia Minor. From some ambiguous readings in his text, it has been inferred that he may have seen parts of the coasts of France and England. We don't know when Roger II. of Sicily (1101-1154) invited him to his court, but it must have occurred between 1125 and 1150. Idrisi created a celestial sphere and a map of the known world at that time for the Norman king, both made of silver. These projects only used a third of the metal he was given, and Roger gifted him the remaining two-thirds, along with 100,000 coins and a cargo of a richly-laden ship from Barcelona. Roger then asked Idrisi to help compile a new description of the “inhabited earth” based on firsthand observations rather than solely on books. The king and his geographer selected emissaries to travel to different regions to observe, record, and sketch; as these emissaries returned, Idrisi included their findings in the new geography. Thus, the famous work was gradually completed (by the month of Shawwal, A.H. 548 = mid-January, CE 1154), best known from its patron and originator as Al Rojari, but whose full title appears to be, The Journey of a Curious Man to Explore the Regions of the Globe, its Provinces, Islands, Cities, and their Dimensions and Locations. This was shortened to The Amusement of Those Who Want to Travel the Earth, or The Relaxation of a Curious Mind. The title Nubian Geography, derived from Sionita and Hezronita’s misinterpretation of a passage related to Nubia and the Nile, is completely unfounded and misleading. The Rogerian Treatise includes a thorough description of the world as it was known to the author. The “inhabited earth” is divided into seven “climates,” starting at the equator and extending north to the point where it was thought to be too cold for habitation. Each climate is further divided by vertical lines into eleven equal parts, starting with the western coast of Africa and ending with the eastern coast of Asia. The entire world is thus divided into seventy-seven equal square sections. The geographer starts with the first part of the first climate, covering the western edge of the Sahara and a small (northwestern) section of the Sudan (of which Muslims in Barbary had now gained vague knowledge), and then moves east through the various divisions of this climate until he reaches the Sea of China. He then goes back to the first part of the second climate and continues until he reaches the eleventh part of the seventh climate, which concludes in northeast Asia, as he envisioned that continent. The drawbacks of this arrangement (overlooking any divisions—physical, political, linguistic, or religious—that didn't match his “climates”) are quite clear.

Though Idrisi was in such close relations with one of the most civilized of Christian courts and states, we find few traces of his influence on European thought and knowledge. The chief exception is perhaps in the delineation of Africa in the world-maps of Marino Sanuto (q.v.) and Pietro Vesconte. His account of the voyage of the Maghrurin or “Deceived Men” of Lisbon in the Atlantic (a voyage on which they seem to have visited Madeira and one of the Canaries) may have had some effect in stimulating the later ocean enterprise of Christian mariners; but we have no direct evidence of this. Idrisi’s Ptolemaic leanings give a distinctly retrograde character to certain parts of his work, such as east Africa and south Asia; and, in spite of the record of the Lisbon Wanderers, he fully shares the common Moslem dread of the black, viscous, stormy and wind-swept waters of the western ocean, whose limits no one knew, and over which thick and perpetual darkness brooded. At the same time his breadth of view, his clear recognition of scientific truths (such as the roundness of the world) and his wide knowledge and intelligent application of preceding work (such as that of Ptolemy, Masudi and Al Jayhani) must not be forgotten. He also preserves and embodies a considerable amount of private and special information—especially as to Scandinavia (in whose delineation he far surpasses his predecessors), portions of the African coast, the river Niger (whose name is perhaps first to be found, after Ptolemy’s doubtful Nigeir, in Idrisi), portions of the African coast, Egypt, Syria, Italy, France, the Adriatic shore-lands, Germany and the Atlantic islands. No other Arabic work contains a larger assortment of valuable geographical facts; unfortunately the place-names are often illegible or hopelessly corrupted in the manuscripts. Idrisi’s world-map, with all its shortcomings, is perhaps the best product of that strangely feeble thing—the Mahommedan cartography of the middle ages.

Though Idrisi had close connections with one of the most advanced Christian courts and states, there are few signs of his impact on European thought and knowledge. The main exception might be in how Africa is represented in the world maps of Marino Sanuto (q.v.) and Pietro Vesconte. His account of the voyage of the Maghrurin or “Deceived Men” from Lisbon across the Atlantic (where they apparently visited Madeira and one of the Canaries) may have inspired later ocean ventures by Christian sailors, but we have no direct proof of this. Idrisi’s adherence to Ptolemaic principles gives a rather backward aspect to some sections of his work, particularly regarding East Africa and South Asia; and despite the record of the Lisbon Wanderers, he clearly shares the common Muslim fear of the black, turbulent, stormy, and windy waters of the western ocean, whose boundaries were unknown, shrouded in thick and perpetual darkness. At the same time, his broad perspective, recognition of scientific truths (like the Earth's roundness), and extensive knowledge and thoughtful use of earlier works (like those of Ptolemy, Masudi, and Al Jayhani) should not be overlooked. He also includes a significant amount of specific and unique information—especially about Scandinavia (where he greatly surpasses his predecessors), parts of the African coast, the river Niger (whose name might first appear, following Ptolemy’s dubious Nigeir, in Idrisi), and regions including Egypt, Syria, Italy, France, the Adriatic coastline, Germany, and the Atlantic islands. No other Arabic work offers a broader range of valuable geographical facts; unfortunately, many place names are often illegible or severely distorted in the manuscripts. Despite its flaws, Idrisi’s world-map is likely the best example of the surprisingly weak—yet distinctive—Muslim cartography of the Middle Ages.

Besides the Rojari, Idrisi wrote another work, largely geographical, cited by Abulfida as The Book of Kingdoms, but apparently entitled by its author The Gardens of Humanity and the Amusement of the Soul. This was composed for William the Bad (1154-1166), son and successor of Roger II., but is now lost. He likewise wrote, according to Ibn Said, on Medicaments, and composed verses, which are referred to by the Sicilian Mahommedan poet Ibn Bashrun.

Besides the Rojari, Idrisi wrote another largely geographical work, cited by Abulfida as The Book of Kingdoms, but apparently titled by its author The Gardens of Humanity and the Amusement of the Soul. This was created for William the Bad (1154-1166), who was the son and successor of Roger II., but it is now lost. He also wrote, according to Ibn Said, about Medicaments, and composed verses that are mentioned by the Sicilian Muslim poet Ibn Bashrun.

Two manuscripts of Idrisi exist in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, and other two in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. One of the English MSS., brought from Egypt by Greaves, is illustrated by a map of the known world, and by thirty-three sectional maps (for each part of the first three climates). The second manuscript, brought by Pococke from Syria, bears the date of A.H. 906, or A.D. 1500. It consists of 320 leaves, and is illustrated by one general and seventy-seven particular maps, the latter consequently including all the parts of every climate. The general map was published by Dr Vincent in his Periplus of the Erythraean Sea. A copy of Idrisi’s work in the Escorial was destroyed by the fire of 1671.

Two manuscripts of Idrisi are found in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, and two more are in the Bodleian Library in Oxford. One of the English manuscripts, brought from Egypt by Greaves, includes a map of the known world and thirty-three sectional maps for each part of the first three climates. The second manuscript, brought by Pococke from Syria, is dated A.H. 906, or CE. 1500. It consists of 320 leaves and features one general map and seventy-seven detailed maps, which include all parts of every climate. The general map was published by Dr. Vincent in his Periplus of the Erythraean Sea. A copy of Idrisi’s work in the Escorial was destroyed in the fire of 1671.

An epitome of Idrisi’s geography, in the original Arabic, was printed, with many errors, in 1592 at the Medicean press in Rome, from a MS. preserved in the Grand Ducal library at Florence (De geographia universali. Hortulus cultissimus ...). Even the description of Mecca is here omitted. Pococke supplied it from 290 his MS. In many bibliographical works this impression has been wrongly characterized as one of the rarest of books. In 1619 two Maronite scholars, Gabriel Sionita, and Joannes Hezronita, published at Paris a Latin translation of this epitome (Geographia Nubiensis, id est, accuratissima totius orbis in VII. climata divisi descriptio). Besides its many inaccuracies of detail, this edition, by its unlucky title of Nubian Geography, started a fresh and fundamental error as to Idrisi’s origin; this was founded on a misreading of a passage where Idrisi describes the Nile passing into Egypt through Nubia—not “terram nostram,” as this version gives, but “terram illius” is here the true translation. George Hieronymus Velschius, a German scholar, had prepared a copy of the Arabic original, with a Latin translation, which he purposed to have illustrated with notes; but death interrupted this design, and his manuscript remains in the university library of Jena. Casiri (Bib. Ar. Hisp. ii. 13) mentions that he had determined to re-edit this work, but he appears never to have executed his intention. The part relating to Africa was ably edited by Johann Melchior Hartmann (Commentatio de geographia Africae Edrisiana, Göttingen, 1791, and Edrisii Africa, Göttingen, 1796), Here are collected the notices of each region in other Moslem writers, so as to form, for the time, a fairly complete body of Arabic geography as to Africa. Hartmann afterwards published Idrisi’s Spain (Hispania, Marburg, 3 vols., 1802-1818).

An updated version of Idrisi’s geography was published in Arabic, with numerous errors, in 1592 at the Medicean press in Rome, based on a manuscript kept in the Grand Ducal library at Florence (De geographia universali. Hortulus cultissimus ...). Even the description of Mecca was left out. Pococke added it from his manuscript. Many bibliographical sources have mistakenly labeled this edition as one of the rarest books. In 1619, two Maronite scholars, Gabriel Sionita and Joannes Hezronita, published a Latin translation of this summary in Paris (Geographia Nubiensis, id est, accuratissima totius orbis in VII. climata divisi descriptio). Despite its many inaccuracies, this edition, due to its unfortunate title Nubian Geography, created a new and serious misunderstanding about Idrisi’s origins; this mistake was based on a misinterpretation of a section where Idrisi talks about the Nile entering Egypt through Nubia—not “terram nostram,” as this version states, but “terram illius,” which is the correct translation. George Hieronymus Velschius, a German scholar, had prepared a copy of the Arabic original along with a Latin translation, intending to illustrate it with notes; however, his death interrupted this project, and his manuscript is now in the university library of Jena. Casiri (Bib. Ar. Hisp. ii. 13) noted that he had planned to re-edit this work, but he seems to have never carried out his intention. The section on Africa was competently edited by Johann Melchior Hartmann (Commentatio de geographia Africae Edrisiana, Göttingen, 1791, and Edrisii Africa, Göttingen, 1796). In this work, he compiled references from various other Muslim writers to create a fairly comprehensive account of Arabic geography concerning Africa at the time. Hartmann later published Idrisi’s work on Spain (Hispania, Marburg, 3 vols., 1802-1818).

An (indifferent) French translation of the whole of Idrisi’s geography (the only complete version which has yet appeared), based on one of the MSS. of the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, was published by Amédée Jaubert in 1836-1840, and forms volumes v. and vi. of the Recueil de voyages issued by the Paris Société de Géographie; but a good and complete edition of the original text is still a desideratum. A number of Oriental scholars at Leiden determined in 1861 to undertake the task. Spain and western Europe were assigned to Dozy; eastern Europe and western Asia to Engelmann; central and eastern Asia to Defrémery; and Africa to de Goeje. The first portion of the work appeared in 1866, under the title of Description de l’Afrique et de l’Espagne par Edrisi, texte arabe, publié avec une traduction, des notes et un glossaire par R. Dozy et M. J. de Goeje (Leiden, E. J. Brill, 1866); but the other collaborators did not furnish their quota. Other parts of Idrisi’s work have been separately edited; e.g. “Spain” (Descripcion de España de ... Aledris), by J. A. Condé, in Arabic and Spanish (Madrid, 1799); “Sicily” (Descrizione della Sicilia ... di Elidris), by P. D. Magri and F. Tardia (Palermo, 1764); “Italy” (Italia descritta nel “libro del Re Ruggero,” compilato da Edrisi), by M. Amari and C. Schiaparelli, in Arabic and Italian (Rome, 1883); “Syria” (Syria descripta a ... El Edrisio ... ), by E. F. C. Rosenmüller, in Arabic and Latin, 1825, and (Idrisii ... Syria), by J. Gildemeister (Bonn, 1885) (the last a Beilage to vol. viii. of the Zeitschrift d. deutsch. Palästina-Vereins). See also M. Casiri, Bibliotheca Arabico-Hispana Escurialensis (2 vols., Madrid, 1760-1770); V. Lagus, “Idrisii notitiam terrarum Balticarum ex commerciis Scandinavorum et Italorum ... ortam esse” in Atti del IV° Congresso internaz. degli orientalisti in Firenze, p. 395 (Florence, 1880); R. A. Brandel “Om och ur den arabiske geografen Idrisi,” Akad. afhand. (Upsala, 1894).

An indifferent French translation of the entire geography of Idrisi (the only complete version published so far), based on one of the manuscripts from the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, was released by Amédée Jaubert between 1836-1840 and makes up volumes v. and vi. of the Recueil de voyages published by the Paris Société de Géographie; however, a high-quality and complete edition of the original text is still needed. A group of Oriental scholars at Leiden decided in 1861 to take on the task. Spain and western Europe were assigned to Dozy; eastern Europe and western Asia to Engelmann; central and eastern Asia to Defrémery; and Africa to de Goeje. The first part of the project was released in 1866 under the title Description de l’Afrique et de l’Espagne par Edrisi, texte arabe, publié avec une traduction, des notes et un glossaire par R. Dozy et M. J. de Goeje (Leiden, E. J. Brill, 1866); however, the other collaborators did not contribute their share. Other sections of Idrisi’s work have been edited separately; for example, “Spain” (Descripcion de España de ... Aledris), by J. A. Condé, in Arabic and Spanish (Madrid, 1799); “Sicily” (Descrizione della Sicilia ... di Elidris), by P. D. Magri and F. Tardia (Palermo, 1764); “Italy” (Italia descritta nel “libro del Re Ruggero,” compilato da Edrisi), by M. Amari and C. Schiaparelli, in Arabic and Italian (Rome, 1883); “Syria” (Syria descripta a ... El Edrisio ...), by E. F. C. Rosenmüller, in Arabic and Latin, 1825, and (Idrisii ... Syria), by J. Gildemeister (Bonn, 1885) (the last one is an appendix to vol. viii. of the Zeitschrift d. deutsch. Palästina-Vereins). See also M. Casiri, Bibliotheca Arabico-Hispana Escurialensis (2 vols., Madrid, 1760-1770); V. Lagus, “Idrisii notitiam terrarum Balticarum ex commerciis Scandinavorum et Italorum ... ortam esse” in Atti del IV° Congresso internaz. degli orientalisti in Firenze, p. 395 (Florence, 1880); R. A. Brandel “Om och ur den arabiske geografen Idrisi,” Akad. afhand. (Upsala, 1894).

(C. R. B.)

IDUMAEA (Ἰδουμαῖα), the Greek equivalent of Edom (אדום), a territory which, in the works of the Biblical writers, is considered to lie S.E. of the Dead Sea, between the land of Moab and the Gulf of Akaba. Its name, which is connected with the root meaning “red,” is probably applied in reference to the red sandstone ranges of the mountains of Petra.1 This etymology, however, is not certain. The apparently theophorous name Obed-Edom (2 Sam. vi. 10) shows that Edom is the name of a divinity. Of this there is other evidence; a Leiden papyrus names Etum as the wife of the Semitic fire-god Reshpu.

IDUMAEA (Idumea), the Greek name for Edom (Red), is a region that, according to Biblical writers, is located southeast of the Dead Sea, situated between Moab and the Gulf of Aqaba. Its name likely relates to the root meaning "red," probably referencing the red sandstone mountains of Petra.1 However, this etymology isn’t definitive. The name Obed-Edom (2 Sam. vi. 10), which seems to refer to a deity, indicates that Edom is associated with a god. Additional evidence for this includes a Leiden papyrus, which mentions Etum as the spouse of the Semitic fire-god Reshpu.

The early history of Edom is hidden in darkness. The Egyptian references to it are few, and do not give us much light regarding its early inhabitants. In the early records of the Pentateuch, the country is often referred to by the name of Seir, the general name for the whole range of mountains on the east side of the Jordan-Araba depression south of the Dead Sea. These mountains were occupied, so early as we can find any record, by a cave-dwelling aboriginal race known as Horites, who were smitten by the much-discussed king Chedorlaomer (Gen. xiv. 6) and according to Deut. ii. 22 were driven out by the Semitic tribes of Esau’s descendants. The Horites are to us little more than a name, though the discovery of cave-dwellers of very early date at Gezer in the excavations of 1902-1905 has enabled us to form some idea as to their probable culture-status and physical character.

The early history of Edom is shrouded in mystery. There are only a few Egyptian references to it, which don't provide much insight into its early inhabitants. In the early records of the Pentateuch, the region is often referred to as Seir, the general term for the entire mountain range on the east side of the Jordan-Araba depression, south of the Dead Sea. These mountains were inhabited, as far back as we have records, by an ancient cave-dwelling group known as the Horites, who were defeated by the well-known king Chedorlaomer (Gen. xiv. 6), and according to Deut. ii. 22, were driven out by the Semitic tribes descended from Esau. The Horites remain mostly just a name to us, though the discovery of early cave-dwellers at Gezer during the excavations from 1902 to 1905 has allowed us to form some ideas about their probable cultural status and physical characteristics.

The occupants of Edom during practically the whole period of Biblical history were the Bedouin tribes which claimed descent through Esau from Abraham, and were acknowledged by the Israelites (Deut. xxiii. 7) as kin. That they intermarried with the earlier stock is suggested by the passage in Gen. xxxvi. 2, naming, as one of the wives of Esau, Oholibamah, daughter of Zibeon the Horite (corrected by verse 20). Among the peculiarities of the Edomites was government by certain officials known as אלופים2 which the English versions (by too close a reminiscence of the Vulgate duces) translate “dukes.” The now naturalized word “sheikhs” would be the exact rendering. In addition to this Bedouin organization there was the curious institution of an elective monarchy, some of whose kings are catalogued in Gen. xxxvi. 31-39 and 1 Chron. i. 43-54. These kings reigned at some date anterior to the time of Saul. No deductions as to their chronology can be based on the silence regarding them in Moses’ song, Exodus xv. 15. There was a king in Edom (Num. xx. 14) who refused passage to the Israelites in their wanderings.

The people of Edom during most of Biblical history were the Bedouin tribes who traced their ancestry through Esau back to Abraham, and the Israelites recognized them as relatives (Deut. xxiii. 7). The fact that they intermarried with the earlier inhabitants is hinted at in Gen. xxxvi. 2, which mentions Oholibamah, the daughter of Zibeon the Horite, as one of Esau's wives (corrected by verse 20). One of the unique features of the Edomites was that they were governed by certain officials known as Champions2, which the English translations refer to as “dukes,” following the Vulgate's use of duces. A more accurate term would be “sheikhs.” Alongside this Bedouin structure, there was an interesting system of elective monarchy, with some kings listed in Gen. xxxvi. 31-39 and 1 Chron. i. 43-54. These kings ruled at a time before Saul. No conclusions about their timeline can be drawn from the absence of mention in Moses' song in Exodus xv. 15. There was an Edomite king (Num. xx. 14) who denied the Israelites passage during their wanderings.

The history of the relations of the Edomites and Israelites may be briefly summarized. Saul, whose chief herdsman, Doeg, was an Edomite (1 Sam. xxi. 7), fought successfully against them (1 Sam. xiv. 47). Joab (1 Kings xi. 16) or Abishai, as his deputy (1 Chron. xviii. 11, 13), occupied Edom for six months and devastated it; it was garrisoned and permanently held by David (2 Sam. viii. 14). But a refugee named Hadad, who escaped as a child to Egypt and grew up at the court of the Egyptian king, returned in Solomon’s reign and made a series of reprisal raids on the Israelite territory (1 Kings xi. 14). This did not prevent Solomon introducing Edomites into his harem (1 Kings xi. 1) and maintaining a navy at Ezion-geber, at the head of the Gulf of Akaba (1 Kings ix. 26). Indeed, until the time of Jehoram, when the land revolted (2 Kings viii. 20, 22), Edom was a dependency of Judah, ruled by a viceroy (1 Kings xxii. 47). An attempt at recovering their independence was temporarily quelled in a campaign by Amaziah (2 Kings xiv. 7), and Azariah his successor was able to renew the sea trade of the Gulf of Akaba (2 Kings xiv. 22) which had probably languished since the wreck of Jehoshaphat’s ships (1 Kings xxii. 48); but the ancient kingdom had been re-established by the time of Ahaz, and the king’s name, Kaush-Malak, is recorded by Tiglath Pileser. He made raids on the territory of Judah (2 Chron. xxviii. 17). The kingdom, however, was short-lived, and it was soon absorbed into the vassalage of Assyria.

The history of the relationship between the Edomites and Israelites can be briefly outlined. Saul, whose main herdsman, Doeg, was an Edomite (1 Sam. xxi. 7), fought successfully against them (1 Sam. xiv. 47). Joab (1 Kings xi. 16) or Abishai, as his second-in-command (1 Chron. xviii. 11, 13), took control of Edom for six months and laid waste to it; it was garrisoned and permanently held by David (2 Sam. viii. 14). However, a refugee named Hadad, who escaped to Egypt as a child and grew up at the Egyptian king's court, returned during Solomon’s reign and launched several raids on Israelite territory (1 Kings xi. 14). Nonetheless, Solomon still brought Edomites into his harem (1 Kings xi. 1) and established a navy at Ezion-geber, at the northern tip of the Gulf of Akaba (1 Kings ix. 26). In fact, until the time of Jehoram, when the land revolted (2 Kings viii. 20, 22), Edom was subject to Judah, governed by a viceroy (1 Kings xxii. 47). An effort to regain their independence was temporarily suppressed during a campaign by Amaziah (2 Kings xiv. 7), and his successor Azariah was able to revitalize sea trade in the Gulf of Akaba (2 Kings xiv. 22), which had likely declined since Jehoshaphat’s ships were wrecked (1 Kings xxii. 48); but the ancient kingdom was re-established by the time of Ahaz, and the king's name, Kaush-Malak, is recorded by Tiglath Pileser. He conducted raids on Judah's territory (2 Chron. xxviii. 17). However, the kingdom was short-lived and was soon absorbed into Assyria's vassalage.

The later history of Edom is curious. By the constant westward pressure of the eastern Arabs, which (after the restraining force of the great Mesopotamian kingdoms was weakened) assumed irresistible strength, the ancient Edomites were forced across the Jordan-Araba depression, and with their name migrated to the south of western Palestine. In 1 Maccabees v. 65 we find them at Hebron, and this is one of the first indications that we discover of the cis-Jordanic Idumaea of Josephus and the Talmud.

The later history of Edom is interesting. Due to the constant pressure from the eastern Arabs, which, after the power of the great Mesopotamian kingdoms weakened, became overwhelming, the ancient Edomites were pushed across the Jordan-Araba depression and migrated to the south of western Palestine. In 1 Maccabees v. 65, we find them at Hebron, marking one of the first signs of the cis-Jordanic Idumaea mentioned by Josephus and the Talmud.

Josephus used the name Idumaea as including not only Gobalitis, the original Mount Seir, but also Amalekitis, the land of Amalek, west of this, and Akrabatine, the ancient Acrabbim, S.W. of the Dead Sea. In War IV. viii. 1, he mentions two villages “in the very midst of Idumaea,” named Betaris and Caphartobas. The first of these is the modern Beit Jibrin (see Eleutheropolis), the second is Tuffūḥ, near Hebron. Jerome describes Idumaea as extending from Beit Jibrin to Petra, and ascribes the great caves at the former place to cave-dwellers like the aboriginal Horites. Ptolemy’s account presents us with the last stage, in which the name Idumaea is entirely restricted to the cis-Jordanic district, and the old trans-Jordanic region is absorbed in Arabia.

Josephus referred to Idumaea as including not just Gobalitis, the original Mount Seir, but also Amalekitis, the land of Amalek to the west, and Akrabatine, the ancient Acrabbim, southwest of the Dead Sea. In War IV. viii. 1, he mentions two villages "in the very midst of Idumaea," called Betaris and Caphartobas. The first is the modern Beit Jibrin (see Eleutheropolis), and the second is Tuffūḥ, near Hebron. Jerome describes Idumaea as stretching from Beit Jibrin to Petra, attributing the large caves at Beit Jibrin to cave-dwellers like the original Horites. Ptolemy’s account presents the final stage, where the name Idumaea is fully confined to the cis-Jordanic area, while the old trans-Jordanic region is encompassed by Arabia.

The Idumaean Antipater was appointed by Julius Caesar procurator of Judaea, Samaria and Galilee, as a reward for services rendered against Pompey. He was the father of Herod the Great, whose family thus was Idumaean in origin. (See Palestine.)

The Idumaean Antipater was appointed by Julius Caesar as the governor of Judea, Samaria, and Galilee, in recognition of his support against Pompey. He was the father of Herod the Great, making Herod's family Idumaean. (See Palestine.)

(R. A. S. M.)

1 A curious etymological speculation connects the name with the story of Esau’s begging for Jacob’s pottage, Gen. xxv. 30.

1 A fascinating linguistic theory links the name to the story of Esau begging Jacob for some stew, Gen. xxv. 30.

2 The same word is used in the anonymous prophecy incorporated in the book of Zachariah (xii. 5), and in one or two other places as well, of Hebrew leaders.

2 The same word appears in the anonymous prophecy found in the book of Zechariah (xii. 5), and in a few other instances related to Hebrew leaders.

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IDUN, or Iduna, in Scandinavian mythology, the goddess of youth and spring. She was daughter of the dwarf Svald and wife of Bragi. She was keeper of the golden apples, the eating of which preserved to the gods their eternal youth. Loki, the evil spirit, kidnapped her and the apples, but was forced by the gods to restore her liberty. Idun personifies the year between March and September, and her myth represents the annual imprisonment of spring by winter.

IDUN, or Iduna, in Scandinavian mythology, is the goddess of youth and spring. She is the daughter of the dwarf Svald and the wife of Bragi. She is the guardian of the golden apples, which the gods eat to maintain their eternal youth. Loki, the evil spirit, kidnapped her and the apples but was forced by the gods to set her free. Idun represents the time of year from March to September, and her myth symbolizes the annual struggle of spring against winter.


IDYL, or Idyll (Gr. εἰδύλλιον, a descriptive piece, from εἶδος, a shape or style; Lat. idyllium), a short poem of a pastoral or rural character, in which something of the element of landscape is preserved or felt. The earliest commentators of antiquity used the term to designate a great variety of brief and homely poems, in which the description of natural objects was introduced, but the pastoral idea came into existence in connexion with the Alexandrian school, and particularly with Theocritus, Bion and Moschus, in the 3rd century before Christ. It appears, however, that εἰδύλλιον was not, even then, used consciously as the name of a form of verse, but as a diminutive of εἶδος, and merely signified “a little piece in the style of” whatever adjective might follow. Thus the idyls of the pastoral poets were εἰδύλλια αἰπολικά, little pieces in the goatherd style. We possess ten of the so-called “Idyls” of Theocritus, and these are the type from which the popular idea of this kind of poem is taken. But it is observable that there is nothing in the technical character of these ten very diverse pieces which leads us to suppose that the poet intended them to be regarded as typical. In fact, if he had been asked whether a poem was or was not an idyl he would doubtless have been unable to comprehend the question. As a matter of fact, the first of his poems, the celebrated “Dirge for Daphnis,” has become the prototype, not of the modern idyl, but of the modern elegy, and the not less famous “Festival of Adonis” is a realistic mime. It was the six little epical romances, if they may be so called, which started the conception of the idyl of Theocritus. It must be remembered, however, that there is nothing in ancient literature which justifies the notion of a form of verse recognized as an “idyl.” In the 4th century after Christ the word seems to have become accepted in Latin as covering short descriptive poems of very diverse characters, for the early MSS. of Ausonius contain a section of “Edyllia,” which embraces some of the most admirable of the miscellaneous pieces of that writer. But that Ausonius himself called his poems “idyls” is highly doubtful. Indeed, it is not certain that the heading is not a mistake for “Epyllia.” The word was revived at the Renaissance and applied rather vaguely to Latin and Greek imitations of Theocritus and of Virgil. It was also applied to modern poems of a romantic and pastoral character published by such writers as Tasso in Italy, Montemayor in Portugal and Ronsard in French. In 1658 the English critic, Edward Phillips, defined an “idyl” as “a kind of eclogue,” but it was seldom used to describe a modern poem. Mme Deshoulières published a series of seven Idylles in 1675, and Boileau makes a vague reference to the form. The sentimental German idyls of Salomon Gessner (in prose, 1758) and Voss (in hexameters, 1800) were modelled on Theocritus. Goethe’s Alexis und Dora is an idyl. It appears that the very general use, or abuse, of the word in the second half of the 19th century, both in English and French, arises from the popularity of two works, curiously enough almost identical in date, by two eminent and popular poets. The Idylles héroïques (1858) of Victor de Laprade and the Idylls of the King (1859) of Tennyson enjoyed a success in either country which led to a wide imitation of the title among those who had, perhaps, a very inexact idea of its meaning. Among modern Germans, Berthold Auerbach and Jeremias Gotthelf have been prominent as the composers of sentimental idyls founded on anecdotes of village-life. On the whole, it is impossible to admit that the idyl has a place among definite literary forms. Its character is vague and has often been purely sentimental, and our conception of it is further obscured by the fact that though the noun carries no bucolic idea with it in English, the adjective (“idyllic”) has come to be synonymous with pastoral and rustic.

IDYL, or Idyllic (Gr. Eidyllion, a descriptive piece, from form, a shape or style; Lat. idyllium), is a short poem with a pastoral or rural theme, in which some element of the landscape is preserved or sensed. The earliest commentators of antiquity used the term to refer to a wide range of brief, simple poems that included descriptions of natural objects, but the concept of pastoral poetry emerged in connection with the Alexandrian school, especially with Theocritus, Bion, and Moschus in the 3rd century BC. However, it seems that idyll was not even then consciously recognized as a specific form of verse, but rather as a diminutive of 形状, simply meaning “a small piece in the style of” whatever adjective followed. Thus, the idyls of pastoral poets were referred to as Greek pastoral poems, little pieces in the goatherd style. We have ten of the so-called “Idyls” of Theocritus, and these serve as the model for the popular idea of this type of poem. However, it is notable that there is nothing in the technical nature of these ten very diverse pieces that suggests that the poet intended them to be viewed as typical. In fact, if he had been asked whether a poem was or wasn't an idyl, he likely would not have understood the question. Notably, the first of his poems, the famous “Dirge for Daphnis,” became the prototype, not of the modern idyl, but of the modern elegy, and the equally well-known “Festival of Adonis” is a realistic mime. It was the six brief epic romances, if they can be called that, which sparked the idea of the idyl of Theocritus. It should be noted, however, that there is nothing in ancient literature that supports the notion of a recognized form of verse called an “idyl.” In the 4th century AD, the term seems to have been accepted in Latin to cover short descriptive poems of various kinds, as early manuscripts of Ausonius contain a section of “Edyllia,” which includes some of that writer's most remarkable miscellaneous pieces. However, it is highly doubtful that Ausonius himself referred to his poems as “idyls.” Indeed, it remains uncertain whether the heading might be a mistake for “Epyllia.” The word was revived during the Renaissance and applied somewhat loosely to Latin and Greek imitations of Theocritus and Virgil. It was also used for modern poems of a romantic and pastoral nature published by authors like Tasso in Italy, Montemayor in Portugal, and Ronsard in France. In 1658, the English critic Edward Phillips defined an “idyl” as “a type of eclogue,” but it was rarely used to describe a modern poem. Mme Deshoulières published a series of seven Idylles in 1675, and Boileau made a vague reference to the form. The sentimental German idyls of Salomon Gessner (in prose, 1758) and Voss (in hexameters, 1800) were modeled on Theocritus. Goethe’s Alexis und Dora is an idyl. It seems that the very broad use, or misuse, of the term in the second half of the 19th century, both in English and French, emerged from the popularity of two works, curiously published almost simultaneously, by two renowned and popular poets. The Idylles héroïques (1858) by Victor de Laprade and the Idylls of the King (1859) by Tennyson achieved success in both countries, leading to a widespread imitation of the title among those who perhaps had a very imprecise understanding of its meaning. Among contemporary Germans, Berthold Auerbach and Jeremias Gotthelf have been notable as writers of sentimental idyls based on village-life anecdotes. Overall, it is impossible to assert that the idyl has a place among specific literary forms. Its nature is vague and has often been purely sentimental, and our understanding of it is further clouded by the fact that while the noun carries no bucolic connotation in English, the adjective (“idyllic”) has become synonymous with pastoral and rustic.

(E. G.)

IFFLAND, AUGUST WILHELM (1759-1814), German actor and dramatic author, was born at Hanover on the 19th of April 1759. His father intended his son to be a clergyman, but the boy preferred the stage, and at eighteen ran away to Gotha in order to prepare himself for a theatrical career. He was fortunate enough to receive instruction from Hans Ekhof, and made such rapid progress that he was able in 1779 to accept an engagement at the theatre in Mannheim, then rising into prominence. He soon stood high in his profession, and extended his reputation by frequently playing in other towns. In 1796 he settled in Berlin, where he became director of the national theatre of Prussia; and in 1811 he was made general director of all representations before royalty. Iffland produced the classical works of Goethe and Schiller with conscientious care; but he had little understanding for the drama of the romantic writers. The form of play in which he was most at home, both as actor and playwright, was the domestic drama, the sentimental play of everyday life. His works are almost entirely destitute of imagination; but they display a thorough mastery of the technical necessities of the stage, and a remarkable power of devising effective situations. His best characters are simple and natural, fond of domestic life, but too much given to the utterance of sentimental commonplace. His best-known plays are Die Jäger, Dienstpflicht, Die Advokaten, Die Mündel and Die Hagestolzen. Iffland was also a dramatic critic, and German actors place high value on the reasonings and hints respecting their art in his Almanach für Theater und Theaterfreunde. In 1798-1802 he issued his Dramatischen Werke in 16 volumes, to which he added an autobiography (Meine theatralische Laufbahn). In 1807-1809 Iffland brought out two volumes of Neue dramatische Werke. Selections from his writings were afterwards published, one in 11 (Leipzig, 1827-1828), the other in 10 volumes (Leipzig, 1844, and again 1860). As an actor, he was conspicuous for his brilliant portrayal of comedy parts. His fine gentlemen, polished men of the world, and distinguished princes were models of perfection, and showed none of the traces of elaborate study which were noticed in his interpretation of tragedy. He especially excelled in presenting those types of middle-class life which appear in his own comedies. Iffland died at Berlin on the 22nd of September 1814. A bronze portrait statue of him was erected in front of the Mannheim theatre in 1864.

IFFLAND, AUGUST WILHELM (1759-1814), a German actor and playwright, was born in Hanover on April 19, 1759. His father wanted him to become a clergyman, but the boy preferred the stage and at eighteen ran away to Gotha to prepare for a theatrical career. He was lucky to receive training from Hans Ekhof and progressed so quickly that by 1779 he could take a job at the emerging theater in Mannheim. He quickly gained respect in his field and built his reputation by often performing in other cities. In 1796, he moved to Berlin, where he became the director of the national theater of Prussia, and in 1811 he was appointed general director of all performances before royalty. Iffland carefully produced the classic works of Goethe and Schiller but had little appreciation for the dramas of romantic writers. The type of play he was most comfortable with, both as an actor and a playwright, was domestic drama—the sentimental plays of everyday life. His works lack imagination, but they demonstrate a strong grasp of stage techniques and an impressive ability to create engaging situations. His best characters are simple and relatable, devoted to domestic life, but often express sentimental clichés. His most famous plays are Die Jäger, Dienstpflicht, Die Advokaten, Die Mündel, and Die Hagestolzen. Iffland was also a theater critic, and German actors highly value his insights and advice regarding their craft in his Almanach für Theater und Theaterfreunde. From 1798 to 1802, he published his Dramatischen Werke in 16 volumes, to which he added an autobiography (Meine theatralische Laufbahn). From 1807 to 1809, Iffland released two volumes of Neue dramatische Werke. Selections from his writings were published later, one in 11 volumes (Leipzig, 1827-1828) and another in 10 volumes (Leipzig, 1844, and again in 1860). As an actor, he was known for his exceptional performances in comedic roles. His portrayals of refined gentlemen, cultured men of the world, and distinguished princes were exemplary, showing no signs of the rigorous study evident in his tragic performances. He particularly excelled in depicting middle-class characters found in his own comedies. Iffland passed away in Berlin on September 22, 1814. A bronze statue of him was erected in front of the Mannheim theater in 1864.

See K. Duncker, Iffland in seinen Schriften als Künstler, Lehrer, und Direktor der Berliner Bühne (1859); W. Koffka, Iffland und Dalberg (1865); and Lampe, Studien über Iffland als Dramatiker (Celle, 1899). Iffland’s interesting autobiography, Meine theatralische Laufbahn, was republished by H. Holstein in 1885.

See K. Duncker, Iffland in His Writings as an Artist, Teacher, and Director of the Berlin Stage (1859); W. Koffka, Iffland and Dalberg (1865); and Lampe, Studies on Iffland as a Playwright (Celle, 1899). Iffland’s intriguing autobiography, My Theatrical Career, was republished by H. Holstein in 1885.


IGLAU (Czech Jihlava), a town of Austria, in Moravia, 56 m. N.W. of Brünn by rail. Pop. (1900) 24,387, of whom 4200 are Czechs and the remainder Germans. Iglau is situated on the Iglawa, close to the Bohemian frontier, and is one of the oldest towns in Moravia, being the centre of a German-speaking enclave. Among the principal buildings are the churches of St Jakob, St Ignatius, St John and St Paul, the town-hall, and the barracks formed from a monastery suppressed under the emperor Joseph II. There is also a fine cemetery, containing some remarkable monuments. It has the principal tobacco and cigar factory of the state monopoly, which employs about 2500 hands, and has besides a large and important textile and glass industry, corn and saw-mills, pottery and brewing. Fairs are periodically held in the town; and the trade in timber, cereals, and linen and woollen goods is generally brisk.

IGLAU (Czech Jihlava), a town in Austria, located in Moravia, is 56 km northwest of Brünn by rail. Population (1900) was 24,387, with 4,200 being Czechs and the rest Germans. Iglau is situated on the Iglawa River, near the Bohemian border, and is one of the oldest towns in Moravia, serving as the center of a German-speaking community. Some of the main buildings include the churches of St. Jakob, St. Ignatius, St. John, and St. Paul, the town hall, and the barracks that were once a monastery dissolved under Emperor Joseph II. The town also has a beautiful cemetery, featuring some noteworthy monuments. It is home to the main tobacco and cigar factory of the state monopoly, which employs about 2,500 people, and also has a significant textile and glass industry, as well as corn and sawmills, pottery, and brewing facilities. The town hosts fairs regularly, and trade in timber, grains, and linen and wool products is generally active.

Iglau is an old mining town where, according to legend, the silver mines were worked so early as 799. King Ottakar I. (1198-1230) established here a mining-office and a mint. At a very early date it enjoyed exceptional privileges, which were confirmed by King Wenceslaus I. in the year 1250. The town-hall contains a collection of municipal and mining laws dating as far back as 1389. At Iglau, on the 5th of July 1436, the treaty was made with the Hussites, by which the emperor Sigismund was acknowledged king of Bohemia. A granite column near the 292 town marks the spot where Ferdinand I., in 1527, swore fidelity to the Bohemian states. During the Thirty Years’ War Iglau was twice captured by the Swedes. In 1742 it fell into the hands of the Prussians, and in December 1805 the Bavarians under Wrede were defeated near the town.

Iglau is an old mining town where, according to legend, silver mines were operated as early as 799. King Ottakar I. (1198-1230) established a mining office and a mint here. At a very early date, it enjoyed special privileges, which were confirmed by King Wenceslaus I. in 1250. The town hall holds a collection of municipal and mining laws dating back to 1389. In Iglau, on July 5, 1436, a treaty was made with the Hussites, recognizing Emperor Sigismund as king of Bohemia. A granite column near the 292 town marks the spot where Ferdinand I., in 1527, pledged loyalty to the Bohemian states. During the Thirty Years’ War, Iglau was captured twice by the Swedes. In 1742, it was taken by the Prussians, and in December 1805, the Bavarians under Wrede were defeated near the town.


IGLESIAS, a town and episcopal see of Sardinia in the province of Cagliari, from which it is 34 m. W.N.W. by rail, 620 ft. above sea-level. Pop. (1901) 10,436 (town), 20,874 (commune). It is finely situated among the mountains in the S.W. portion of the island, and is chiefly important as the centre of a mining district; it has a government school for mining engineers. The minerals are conveyed by a small railway via Monteponi (with its large lead and zinc mine) to Portovesme (15 m. S.W. of Iglesias in the sheltered gulf of Carloforte), near Portoscuso, where they are shipped. The total amount of the minerals extracted in Sardinia in 1905 was 170,236 tons and their value £765,054 (chiefly consisting of 99,749 tons of calamine zinc, 26,051 of blende zinc, 24,798 tons of lead and 15,429 tons of lignite): the greater part of them—118,009 tons—was exported from Portoscuso by sea and most of the rest from Cagliari, the zinc going mainly to Antwerp, and in a less proportion to Bordeaux and Dunkirk, while the lead is sent to Pertusola near Spezia, to be smelted. At Portoscuso is also a tunny fishery.

IGLESIAS, is a town and episcopal see in Sardinia, located in the province of Cagliari, 34 miles W.N.W. by rail and 620 feet above sea level. In 1901, the population was 10,436 for the town and 20,874 for the commune. It's beautifully located among the mountains in the southwest part of the island and is mainly significant as the center of a mining area; it has a government school for mining engineers. The minerals are transported by a small railway through Monteponi (home to its large lead and zinc mine) to Portovesme (15 miles southwest of Iglesias in the protected Gulf of Carloforte), close to Portoscuso, where they are shipped. In 1905, the total amount of minerals extracted in Sardinia was 170,236 tons, worth £765,054 (mainly made up of 99,749 tons of calamine zinc, 26,051 tons of blende zinc, 24,798 tons of lead, and 15,429 tons of lignite): the majority—118,009 tons—was exported from Portoscuso by sea, with most of the remainder shipped from Cagliari. The zinc primarily went to Antwerp, with smaller amounts sent to Bordeaux and Dunkirk, while the lead was sent to Pertusola near Spezia for smelting. Portoscuso also has a tunny fishery.

The cathedral of Iglesias, built by the Pisans, has a good façade (restored); the interior is late Spanish Gothic. San Francesco is a fine Gothic church with a gallery over the entrance, while Sta Chiara and the church of the Capuchins (the former dating from 1285) show a transition between Romanesque and Gothic. The battlemented town walls are well preserved and picturesque; the castle, built in 1325, now contains a glass factory. The church of Nostra Signora del Buon Cammino above the town (1080 ft.) commands a fine view.

The cathedral of Iglesias, built by the Pisans, has a nice facade (restored); the interior showcases late Spanish Gothic style. San Francesco is a beautiful Gothic church with a gallery over the entrance, while Sta Chiara and the Capuchins' church (the former dating back to 1285) illustrate a transition between Romanesque and Gothic architecture. The town walls, with their battlements, are well preserved and picturesque; the castle, constructed in 1325, now houses a glass factory. The church of Nostra Signora del Buon Cammino, located above the town (1080 ft.), offers a great view.


IGNATIEV, NICHOLAS PAVLOVICH, Count (1832-1908), Russian diplomatist, was born at St Petersburg on the 29th of January 1832. His father, Captain Paul Ignatiev, had been taken into favour by the tsar Nicholas I., owing to his fidelity on the occasion of the military conspiracy in 1825; and the grand duke Alexander (afterwards tsar) stood sponsor at the boy’s baptism. At the age of seventeen he became an officer of the Guards. His diplomatic career began at the congress of Paris, after the Crimean War, where he took an active part as military attaché in the negotiations regarding the rectification of the Russian frontier on the Lower Danube. Two years later (1858) he was sent with a small escort on a dangerous mission to Khiva and Bokhara. The khan of Khiva laid a plan for detaining him as a hostage, but he eluded the danger and returned safely, after concluding with the khan of Bokhara a treaty of friendship. His next diplomatic exploit was in the Far East, as plenipotentiary to the court of Peking. When the Chinese government was terrified by the advance of the Anglo-French expedition of 1860 and the burning of the Summer Palace, he worked on their fears so dexterously that he obtained for Russia not only the left bank of the Amur, the original object of the mission, but also a large extent of territory and sea-coast south of that river. This success was supposed to prove his capacity for dealing with Orientals, and paved his way to the post of ambassador at Constantinople, which he occupied from 1864 till 1877. Here his chief aim was to liberate from Turkish domination and bring under the influence of Russia the Christian nationalities in general and the Bulgarians in particular. His restless activity in this field, mostly of a semi-official and secret character, culminated in the Russo-Turkish war of 1877-1878, at the close of which he negotiated with the Turkish plenipotentiaries the treaty of San Stefano. As the war which he had done so much to bring about did not eventually secure for Russia advantages commensurate with the sacrifices involved, he fell into disfavour, and retired from active service. Shortly after the accession of Alexander III. in 1881, he was appointed minister of the interior on the understanding that he would carry out a nationalist, reactionary policy, but his shifty ways and his administrative incapacity so displeased his imperial master that he was dismissed in the following year. After that time he exercised no important influence in public affairs. He died on the 3rd of July 1908.

IGNATIEV, NICHOLAS PAVLOVICH, Count (1832-1908), Russian diplomat, was born in St. Petersburg on January 29, 1832. His father, Captain Paul Ignatiev, earned the favor of Tsar Nicholas I for his loyalty during the military conspiracy in 1825, and Grand Duke Alexander (later Tsar) was his godfather at baptism. At seventeen, he became an officer in the Guards. His diplomatic career began at the Congress of Paris after the Crimean War, where he played an active role as a military attaché in negotiations about adjusting the Russian border on the Lower Danube. Two years later (1858), he was sent with a small escort on a risky mission to Khiva and Bokhara. The khan of Khiva attempted to take him hostage, but he managed to escape and returned safely, having negotiated a friendship treaty with the khan of Bokhara. His next diplomatic venture was in the Far East as a plenipotentiary to the court in Peking. When the Chinese government was panicked by the advancement of the Anglo-French expedition in 1860 and the burning of the Summer Palace, he skillfully played on their fears and secured for Russia not just the left bank of the Amur, which was the original goal of the mission, but also a significant amount of territory and coastline south of that river. This achievement was seen as evidence of his skill in dealing with Orientals and led to his appointment as ambassador in Constantinople, a position he held from 1864 to 1877. His main objective was to free Christian nationalities, especially the Bulgarians, from Turkish control and bring them under Russian influence. His relentless efforts in this area, largely semi-official and secretive, culminated in the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-1878, after which he negotiated the Treaty of San Stefano with the Turkish representatives. However, because the war he had helped instigate did not yield significant benefits for Russia relative to the sacrifices made, he fell out of favor and retired from active duty. Shortly after Tsar Alexander III came to power in 1881, he was appointed Minister of the Interior with the expectation that he would implement a nationalist, reactionary policy, but his unreliable behavior and poor administrative skills displeased the Tsar, resulting in his dismissal the following year. After that, he had little influence in public affairs. He died on July 3, 1908.


IGNATIUS (Ἰγνάτιος), bishop of Antioch, one of the “Apostolic Fathers.” No one connected with the history of the early Christian Church is more famous than Ignatius, and yet among the leading churchmen of the time there is scarcely one about whose career we know so little. Our only trustworthy information is derived from the letters which he wrote to various churches on his last journey from Antioch to Rome, and from the short epistle of Polycarp to the Philippians. The earlier patristic writers seem to have known no more than we do. Irenaeus, for instance, gives a quotation from his Epistle to the Romans and does not appear to know (or if he knew he has forgotten) the name of the author, since he describes him (Adv. haer. v. 28. 4) as “one of those belonging to us” (τις τῶν ἡμετέρων). If Eusebius possessed any knowledge about Ignatius apart from the letters he never reveals it. The only shred of extra information which he gives us is the statement that Ignatius “was the second successor of Peter in the bishopric of Antioch” (Eccles. hist. iii. 36). Of course in later times a cloud of tradition arose, but none of it bears the least evidence of trustworthiness. The martyrologies, from which the account of his martyrdom that used to appear in uncritical church histories is taken, are full of anachronisms and impossibilities. There are two main types—the Roman and the Syrian—out of which the others are compounded. They contradict each other in many points and even their own statements in different places are sometimes quite irreconcilable. Any truth that the narrative may contain is hopelessly overlaid with fiction. We are therefore limited to the Epistles for our information, and before we can use even these we are confronted with a most complex critical problem, a problem which for ages aroused the most bitter controversy, but which happily now, thanks to the labours of Zahn, Lightfoot, Harnack and Funk, may be said to have reached a satisfactory solution.

IGNATIUS (Ignatius), bishop of Antioch, is one of the “Apostolic Fathers.” No one associated with the history of the early Christian Church is more famous than Ignatius, yet among the prominent church leaders of that time, there’s hardly anyone whose life we know so little about. Our reliable information comes from the letters he wrote to various churches during his final journey from Antioch to Rome, as well as from the brief letter of Polycarp to the Philippians. The earlier church writers seemed to know no more than we do. Irenaeus, for instance, quotes from his Epistle to the Romans but doesn’t appear to know (or perhaps forgot) the author's name, referring to him instead as “one of those belonging to us” (of our people) in Adv. haer. v. 28. 4. If Eusebius had any knowledge about Ignatius beyond the letters, he never shares it. The only extra detail he provides is that Ignatius “was the second successor of Peter as bishop of Antioch” (Eccles. hist. iii. 36). Of course, in later times, a cloud of tradition emerged, but none of it shows any solid evidence of reliability. The martyrologies, from which the account of his martyrdom in uncritical church histories is derived, are full of anachronisms and impossibilities. There are mainly two types—the Roman and the Syrian—out of which the others are formed. They contradict each other on many points, and even their own statements in different sections are sometimes quite irreconcilable. Any truth the accounts may hold is hopelessly buried under fiction. Therefore, we rely on the Epistles for our information, but before we can even use them, we face a very complex critical problem, a problem that has sparked intense controversy for ages, but fortunately now, thanks to the efforts of Zahn, Lightfoot, Harnack, and Funk, it can be said to have reached a satisfactory resolution.

I. The Problem of the Three Recensions.—The Ignatian problem arises from the fact that we possess three different recensions of the Epistles. (a) The short recension (often called the Vossian) contains the letters to the Ephesians, Magnesians, Trallians, Romans, Philadelphians, Smyrnaeans and to Polycarp. This recension was derived in its Greek form from the famous Medicean MS. at Florence and first published by Vossius in 1646 (see Theol. Literaturzeitung, 1906, 596 f., for an early papyrus fragment in the Berlin Museum, containing Ad Smyrn. iii. fin. xii. init.). In the Medicean MS. the Epistle to the Romans is missing, but a Greek version of this epistle was discovered by Ruinart, embedded in a martyrium, in the National Library at Paris and published in 1689. There are also (1) a Latin version made by Robert Grosseteste, bishop of Lincoln, about 1250, and published by Ussher in 1644—two years before the Vossian edition appeared; (2) an Armenian version which was derived from a Syriac not earlier than the 5th century and published at Constantinople in 1783; (3) some fragments of a Syriac version published in Cureton’s edition of Ignatius; (4) fragments of a Coptic version first published in Lightfoot’s work (ii. 859-882). (b) The long recension contains the seven Epistles mentioned above in an expanded form and several additional letters besides. The Greek form of the recension, which has been preserved in ten MSS., has thirteen letters, the additional ones being to the Tarsians, the Philippians, the Antiochians, to Hero, to Mary of Cassobola and a letter of Mary to Ignatius. The Latin form, of which there are thirteen extant MSS., omits the letter of Mary of Cassobola, but adds to the list the Laus Heronis, two Epistles to the apostle John, one to the Virgin Mary and one from Mary to Ignatius. (c) The Syriac or Curetonian recension contains only three Epistles, viz. to Polycarp, to the Romans, and to the Ephesians, and these when compared with the same letters in the short and long recensions are found to be considerably abbreviated. The Syriac recension was made by William Cureton in 1845 from three Syriac MSS. which had recently been brought from the 293 Nitrian desert and deposited in the British Museum. One of these MSS. belongs to the 6th century, the other two are later. Summed up in a word, therefore, the Ignatian problem is this: which of these three recensions (if any) represents the actual work of Ignatius?

I. The Problem of the Three Versions.—The Ignatian issue comes from the existence of three different versions of the Epistles. (a) The short version (often called the Vossian) includes the letters to the Ephesians, Magnesians, Trallians, Romans, Philadelphians, Smyrnaeans, and to Polycarp. This version was derived in its Greek form from the famous Medicean manuscript in Florence and was first published by Vossius in 1646 (see Theol. Literaturzeitung, 1906, 596 f., for an early papyrus fragment in the Berlin Museum, containing Ad Smyrn. iii. fin. xii. init.). In the Medicean manuscript, the Epistle to the Romans is missing, but a Greek version of this epistle was discovered by Ruinart, embedded in a martyrium, in the National Library in Paris and published in 1689. There are also (1) a Latin version made by Robert Grosseteste, the bishop of Lincoln, around 1250, published by Ussher in 1644—two years before the Vossian edition was released; (2) an Armenian version derived from a Syriac source not earlier than the 5th century, published in Constantinople in 1783; (3) some fragments of a Syriac version published in Cureton’s edition of Ignatius; (4) fragments of a Coptic version first published in Lightfoot’s work (ii. 859-882). (b) The long version contains the seven Epistles mentioned above in a more detailed form and several additional letters as well. The Greek form of this version, preserved in ten manuscripts, includes thirteen letters, with the additional ones being to the Tarsians, the Philippians, the Antiochians, to Hero, to Mary of Cassobola, and a letter from Mary to Ignatius. The Latin version, of which there are thirteen extant manuscripts, omits the letter from Mary of Cassobola but adds to the list the Laus Heronis, two Epistles to the apostle John, one to the Virgin Mary, and one from Mary to Ignatius. (c) The Syriac or Curetonian version contains only three Epistles: to Polycarp, to the Romans, and to the Ephesians, and when compared with the same letters in the short and long versions, these are found to be significantly shortened. The Syriac version was created by William Cureton in 1845 from three Syriac manuscripts that had recently come from the Nitrian desert and were deposited in the British Museum. One of these manuscripts dates back to the 6th century, while the other two are later. In summary, the Ignatian problem is this: which of these three versions (if any) represents the actual writings of Ignatius?

II. History of the Controversy.—The history of the controversy may be divided into three periods: (a) up to the discovery of the short recension in 1646; (b) between 1646 and the discovery of the Syriac recension in 1845; (c) from 1845 to the present day. In the first stage the controversy was theological rather than critical. The Reformation raised the question as to the authority of the papacy and the hierarchy. Roman Catholic scholars used the interpolated Ignatian Epistles very freely in their defence and derived many of their arguments from them, while Protestant scholars threw discredit on these Epistles. The Magdeburg centuriators expressed the gravest doubts as to their genuineness, and Calvin declared that “nothing was more foul than those fairy tales (naeniis) published under the name of Ignatius!” It should be stated, however, that one Roman Catholic scholar, Denys Petau (Petavius), admitted that the letters were interpolated, while the Protestant Vedelius acknowledged the seven letters mentioned by Eusebius. In England the Ignatian Epistles took an important place in the episcopalian controversy in the 17th century. Their genuineness was defended by the leading Anglican writers, e.g. Whitgift, Hooker and Andrewes, and vigorously challenged by Dissenters, e.g. the five Presbyterian ministers who wrote under the name of Smectymnuus and John Milton.1 The second period is marked by the recognition of the superiority of the Vossian recension. This was speedily demonstrated, though some attempts were made, notably by Jean Morin or Morinus (about 1656), Whiston (in 1711) and Meier (in 1836), to resuscitate the long recension. Many Protestants still maintained that the new recension, like the old, was a forgery. The chief attack came from Jean Daillé, who in his famous work (1666) drew up no fewer than sixty-six objections to the genuineness of the Ignatian literature. He was answered by Pearson, who in his Vindiciae epistolarum S. Ignatii (1672) completely vindicated the authenticity of the Vossian Epistles. No further attack of any importance was made till the time of Baur, who like Daillé rejected both recensions. In the third stage—inaugurated in 1845 by Cureton’s work—the controversy has ranged round the relative claims of the Vossian and the Curetonian recensions. Scholars have been divided into three camps, viz. (1) those who followed Cureton in maintaining that the three Syriac Epistles alone were the genuine work of Ignatius. Among them may be mentioned the names of Bunsen, A. Ritschl, R. A. Lipsius, E. de Pressensé, H. Ewald, Milman, Bohringer. (2) Those who accepted the genuineness of the Vossian recension and regarded the Curetonian as an abbreviation of it, e.g. Petermann, Denzinger, Uhlhorn, Merx, and in more recent times Th. Zahn, J. B. Lightfoot, Ad. Harnack and F. X. Funk. (3) Those who denied the authenticity of both recensions, e.g. Baur and Hilgenfeld and in recent times van Manen,2 Völter3 and van Loon.4 The result of more than half a century’s discussion has been to restore the Vossian recension to the premier position.

II. History of the Controversy.—The history of the controversy can be divided into three periods: (a) up to the discovery of the short version in 1646; (b) between 1646 and the discovery of the Syriac version in 1845; (c) from 1845 to today. In the first stage, the controversy was more about theology than critical analysis. The Reformation raised questions about the authority of the papacy and the church hierarchy. Roman Catholic scholars used the interpolated Ignatian Epistles extensively in their defense and built many of their arguments on them, while Protestant scholars undermined these Epistles. The Magdeburg centuriators expressed serious doubts about their authenticity, and Calvin stated that “nothing was more foul than those fairy tales (naeniis) published under the name of Ignatius!” However, it's worth noting that one Roman Catholic scholar, Denys Petau (Petavius), admitted that the letters were interpolated, while the Protestant Vedelius recognized the seven letters mentioned by Eusebius. In England, the Ignatian Epistles played a significant role in the episcopalian controversy in the 17th century. Their authenticity was defended by leading Anglican writers, such as Whitgift, Hooker, and Andrewes, and fiercely challenged by Dissenters, including the five Presbyterian ministers who wrote under the name of Smectymnuus and John Milton.1 The second period is marked by the acknowledgment of the superiority of the Vossian version. This was quickly demonstrated, although some attempts were made, particularly by Jean Morin or Morinus (around 1656), Whiston (in 1711), and Meier (in 1836), to revive the long version. Many Protestants still argued that the new version, like the old one, was a forgery. The main critique came from Jean Daillé, who in his famous work (1666) listed no fewer than sixty-six objections to the genuineness of the Ignatian literature. He was countered by Pearson, who in his Vindiciae epistolarum S. Ignatii (1672) completely defended the authenticity of the Vossian Epistles. No significant attacks were made until the time of Baur, who, like Daillé, rejected both versions. In the third stage—inaugurated in 1845 by Cureton’s work—the debate has revolved around the relative claims of the Vossian and Curetonian versions. Scholars have been divided into three groups: (1) those who followed Cureton in maintaining that the three Syriac Epistles alone were the genuine works of Ignatius. Notable names include Bunsen, A. Ritschl, R. A. Lipsius, E. de Pressensé, H. Ewald, Milman, and Bohringer. (2) Those who recognized the authenticity of the Vossian version and viewed the Curetonian as an abbreviation of it, such as Petermann, Denzinger, Uhlhorn, Merx, and more recently Th. Zahn, J. B. Lightfoot, Ad. Harnack, and F. X. Funk. (3) Those who denied the authenticity of both versions, including Baur, Hilgenfeld, and more recently van Manen,2 Völter3 and van Loon.4 The outcome of more than half a century of discussion has restored the Vossian version to the foremost position.

III. The Origin of the Long Recension.—The arguments against the genuineness of the long recension are decisive. (1) It conflicts with the statement of Eusebius. (2) The first trace of its use occurs in Anastasius of Antioch (A.D. 598) and Stephen Gobarus (c. 575-600). (3) The ecclesiastical system of the letters implies a date not earlier than the 4th century. (4) The recension has been proved to be dependent on the Apostolical Constitutions. (5) The doctrinal atmosphere implies the existence of Arian and Apollinarian heresies. (6) The added passages reveal a difference in style which stamps them at once as interpolations. There are several different theories with regard to the origin of the recension. Some, e.g. Leclerc, Newman and Zahn, think that the writer was an Arian and that the additions were made in the interest of Arianism. Funk, on the other hand, regards the writer as an Apollinarian. Lightfoot opposes both views and suggests that it is better “to conceive of him as writing with a conciliatory aim.”

III. The Origin of the Long Recension.—The arguments against the authenticity of the long recension are clear-cut. (1) It contradicts Eusebius's statement. (2) The earliest evidence of its use shows up with Anastasius of Antioch (CE 598) and Stephen Gobarus (c. 575-600). (3) The church structure reflected in the letters suggests a date no earlier than the 4th century. (4) The recension has been shown to rely on the Apostolical Constitutions. (5) The theological context indicates the presence of Arian and Apollinarian heresies. (6) The additional passages exhibit a noticeable difference in style that clearly marks them as additions. There are various theories regarding the origin of the recension. Some, like Leclerc, Newman, and Zahn, believe the author was an Arian and that the additions were made to support Arianism. Funk, however, considers the author to be Apollinarian. Lightfoot disagrees with both perspectives and suggests it might be more accurate “to think of him as writing with a conciliatory goal.”

IV. The Objections to the Curetonian Recension.—The objections to the Syriac recension, though not so decisive, are strong enough to carry conviction with them. (1) We have the express statement of Eusebius that Ignatius wrote seven Epistles. (2) There are statements in Polycarp’s Epistle which cannot be explained from the three Syriac Epistles. (3) The omitted portions are proved by Lightfoot after an elaborate analysis to be written in the same style as the rest of the epistles and could not therefore have been later interpolations. (4) The Curetonian letters are often abrupt and broken and show signs of abridgment. (5) The discovery of the Armenian version proves the existence of an earlier Syriac recension corresponding to the Vossian of which the Curetonian may be an abbreviation. It seems impossible to account for the origin of the Curetonian recension on theological grounds. The theory that the abridgment was made in the interests of Eutychianism or Monophysitism cannot be substantiated.

IV. The Objections to the Curetonian Recension.—The objections to the Syriac recension, while not definitive, are compelling enough to be persuasive. (1) We have Eusebius’s clear statement that Ignatius wrote seven Epistles. (2) There are claims in Polycarp’s Epistle that can’t be explained by the three Syriac Epistles. (3) Lightfoot has demonstrated, through a detailed analysis, that the missing sections are written in the same style as the other epistles and therefore could not have been added later. (4) The Curetonian letters are often abrupt and fragmented, showing signs of condensation. (5) The discovery of the Armenian version confirms the existence of an earlier Syriac recension that aligns with the Vossian, of which the Curetonian might be a shortened form. It seems impossible to explain the origin of the Curetonian recension on theological grounds. The idea that the abridgment was created to support Eutychianism or Monophysitism cannot be proven.

V. The Date and Genuineness of the Vossian Epistles.—We are left therefore with the seven Epistles. Are they the genuine work of Ignatius, and, if so, at what date were they written? The main objections are as follows: (1) The conveyance of a condemned prisoner to Rome to be put to death in the amphitheatre is unlikely on historical grounds, and the route taken is improbable for geographical reasons. This objection has very little solid basis. (2) The heresies against which Ignatius contends imply the rise of the later Gnostic and Docetic sects. It is quite certain, however, that Docetism was in existence in the 1st century (cf. 1 John), while many of the principles of Gnosticism were in vogue long before the great Gnostic sects arose (cf. the Pastoral Epistles). There is nothing in Ignatius which implies a knowledge of the teaching of Basilides or Valentinus. In fact, as Harnack says: “No Christian writer after 140 could have described the false teachers in the way that Ignatius does.” (3) The ecclesiastical system of Ignatius is too developed to have arisen as early as the time of Trajan. At first sight this objection seems to be almost fatal. But we have to remember that the bishops of Ignatius are not bishops in the modern sense of the word at all, but simply pastors of churches. They are not mentioned at all in two Epistles, viz. Romans and Philippians, which seems to imply that this form of government was not universal. It is only when we read modern ecclesiastical ideas into Ignatius that the objection has much weight. To sum up, as Uhlhorn says: “The collective mass of internal evidence against the genuineness of the letters ... is insufficient to counterbalance the testimony of the Epistle of Polycarp in their favour. He who would prove the Epistles of Ignatius to be spurious must begin by proving the Epistle of Polycarp to be spurious, and such an undertaking is not likely to succeed.” This being so, there is no reason for rejecting the opinion of Eusebius that the Epistles were written in the reign of Trajan. Harnack, who formerly dated them about 140, now says that they were written in the latter years of Trajan, or possibly a little later (117-125). The majority of scholars place them a few years earlier (110-117).5

V. The Date and Authenticity of the Vossian Epistles.—So, we are left with the seven Epistles. Are they really the authentic work of Ignatius, and if so, when were they written? The main objections are as follows: (1) It's historically unlikely that a condemned prisoner would be taken to Rome to be executed in the amphitheater, and the route taken doesn't make sense geographically. However, there’s not much solid support for this objection. (2) The heresies Ignatius fights against suggest the rise of later Gnostic and Docetic groups. It is clear that Docetism existed in the 1st century (see 1 John), while many Gnostic ideas were around long before significant Gnostic sects formed (see the Pastoral Epistles). There is nothing in Ignatius that indicates he knew about the teachings of Basilides or Valentinus. In fact, as Harnack points out: “No Christian writer after 140 could have described the false teachers in the way that Ignatius does.” (3) Ignatius's church system seems too developed to have emerged during Trajan's time. At first glance, this objection appears quite serious. However, we must remember that the bishops of Ignatius are not bishops in the modern sense, but merely church leaders. They aren't mentioned at all in two Epistles, namely Romans and Philippians, which suggests that this form of governance wasn’t widespread. It’s only when we impose modern church concepts onto Ignatius that this objection holds much weight. To summarize, as Uhlhorn states: “The overall internal evidence against the authenticity of the letters ... is not enough to outweigh the endorsement of the Epistle of Polycarp in their favor. Anyone who wants to prove the Epistles of Ignatius are fake must first show that the Epistle of Polycarp is also fake, and that’s unlikely to succeed.” Therefore, there is no reason to dismiss Eusebius's view that the Epistles were written during Trajan's reign. Harnack, who previously dated them around 140, now suggests they were composed in the later years of Trajan, or possibly a bit later (117-125). Most scholars date them a few years earlier (110-117). 5

The letters of Ignatius unfortunately, unlike the Epistles of St Paul, contain scant autobiographical material. We are told absolutely nothing about the history of his career. The fact that like St Paul he describes himself as an ἔκτρωμα (Rom. 9), and that he speaks of himself as “the last of the Antiochene Christians” (Trall. 13; Smyrn. xi.), seems to suggest that he had been converted from paganism somewhat late in life and that the process of conversion had been abrupt and violent. He bore the surname of Theophorus, i.e. “God-clad” or “bearing 294 God.” Later tradition regarded the word as a passive form (“God-borne”) and explained it by the romantic theory that Ignatius was the child whom Christ took in his arms (Mark ix. 36-37). The date at which he became bishop of Antioch cannot be determined. At the time when the Epistles were written he had just been sentenced to death, and was being sent in charge of a band of soldiers to Rome to fight the beasts in the amphitheatre. The fact that he was condemned to the amphitheatre proves that he could not have been a Roman citizen. We lose sight of him at Troas, but the presumption is that he was martyred at Rome, though we have no early evidence of this.

The letters of Ignatius, unfortunately, contain very little autobiographical information compared to the Epistles of St. Paul. We know nothing about his career history. The fact that, like St. Paul, he refers to himself as an abomination (Rom. 9) and describes himself as “the last of the Antiochene Christians” (Trall. 13; Smyrn. xi.) suggests he converted from paganism fairly late in life, and that this conversion was sudden and intense. He was known by the nickname Theophorus, meaning “God-clad” or “bearing God.” Later traditions interpreted this as a passive form (“God-borne”) and connected it to the romantic idea that Ignatius was the child that Christ held in His arms (Mark ix. 36-37). We can’t pinpoint when he became the bishop of Antioch. At the time the Epistles were written, he had just been sentenced to death and was being escorted by a group of soldiers to Rome to face the beasts in the amphitheater. The fact that he was condemned to the amphitheater indicates that he was not a Roman citizen. After we lose track of him at Troas, it’s assumed he was martyred in Rome, although there is no early evidence to confirm this.

But if the Epistles tell us little of the life of Ignatius, they give us an excellent picture of the man himself, and are a mirror in which we see reflected certain ideals of the life and thought of the day. Ignatius, as Schaff says, “is the incarnation of three closely connected ideas: the glory of martyrdom, the omnipotence of episcopacy, and the hatred of heresy and schism.”

But even though the Epistles reveal little about Ignatius's life, they provide a great portrayal of the man himself, serving as a mirror that reflects certain ideals of life and thought from that time. Ignatius, as Schaff points out, “represents three interconnected ideas: the glory of martyrdom, the supremacy of the episcopacy, and the rejection of heresy and division.”

1. Zeal for martyrdom in later days became a disease in the Church, but in the case of Ignatius it is the mark of a hero. The heroic note runs through all the Epistles; thus he says:

1. In later times, the passion for martyrdom became a problem in the Church, but in Ignatius's case, it’s a sign of a hero. That heroic spirit is present in all the Epistles; for example, he states:

“I bid all men know that of my own free will I die for God, unless ye should hinder me.... Let me be given to the wild beasts, for through them I can attain unto God. I am God’s wheat, and I am ground by the wild beasts that I may be found the pure bread of Christ. Entice the wild beasts that they may become my sepulchre...; come fire and cross and grapplings with wild beasts, wrenching of bones, hacking of limbs, crushings of my whole body; only be it mine to attain unto Jesus Christ” (Rom. 4-5).

“I want everyone to know that I willingly die for God, unless you stop me.... Let me be given to the wild animals, because through them I can reach God. I am God’s wheat, and I am being ground by the wild beasts so that I can be the pure bread of Christ. Bring on the wild beasts to be my grave...; come fire and cross and struggles with wild animals, breaking of bones, chopping of limbs, crushing of my entire body; as long as I can reach Jesus Christ.” (Rom. 4-5).

2. Ignatius constantly contends for the recognition of the authority of the ministers of the church. “Do nothing,” he writes to the Magnesians, “without the bishop and the presbyters.” The “three orders” are essential to the church, without them no church is worthy of the name (cf. Trall. 3). “It is not lawful apart from the bishop either to baptize or to hold a love-feast” (Smyrn. 8). Respect is due to the bishop as to God, to the presbyters as the council of God and the college of apostles, to the deacons as to Jesus Christ (Trall. 3). These terms must not, of course, be taken in their developed modern sense. The “bishop” of Ignatius seems to represent the modern pastor of a church. As Zahn has shown, Ignatius is not striving to introduce a special form of ministry, nor is he endeavouring to substitute one form for another. His particular interest is not so much in the form of ministry as in the unity of the church. It is this that is his chief concern. Centrifugal forces were at work. Differences of theological opinion were arising. Churches had a tendency to split up into sections. The age of the apostles had passed away and their successors did not inherit their authority. The unity of the churches was in danger. Ignatius was resisting this fatal tendency which threatened ruin to the faith. The only remedy for it in those days was to exalt the authority of the ministry and make it the centre of church life. It should be noted that (1) there is no trace of the later doctrine of apostolical succession; (2) the ministry is never sacerdotal in the letters of Ignatius. As Lightfoot puts it: “The ecclesiastical order was enforced by him (Ignatius) almost solely as a security for doctrinal purity. The threefold ministry was the husk, the shell, which protected the precious kernel of the truth” (i. 40).

2. Ignatius continually argues for the recognition of the authority of church ministers. “Do nothing,” he writes to the Magnesians, “without the bishop and the presbyters.” The “three orders” are essential to the church; without them, no church can truly be considered a church (cf. Trall. 3). “It is not lawful, without the bishop, to baptize or to hold a love-feast” (Smyrn. 8). The bishop deserves respect as if he were God, the presbyters are to be respected as God’s council and the college of apostles, and the deacons as representatives of Jesus Christ (Trall. 3). These terms should not, of course, be interpreted in their modern sense. The “bishop” in Ignatius’s context seems to represent the modern church pastor. As Zahn has demonstrated, Ignatius isn’t trying to introduce a specific form of ministry or replace one form with another. His main concern isn't the structure of ministry but rather the unity of the church. That is what he cares about most. There were forces pulling the church apart. Different theological views were emerging. Churches tended to split into factions. The age of the apostles had ended, and their successors didn’t inherit their authority. The unity of the churches was at risk. Ignatius was fighting against this dangerous trend that threatened to destroy the faith. The only solution back then was to elevate the authority of the ministry and make it the core of church life. It should be noted that (1) there’s no sign of the later doctrine of apostolic succession; and (2) the ministry is never viewed as sacrificial in Ignatius’s letters. As Lightfoot puts it: “The ecclesiastical order was enforced by him (Ignatius) almost solely as a security for doctrinal purity. The threefold ministry was the husk, the shell, which protected the precious kernel of the truth” (i. 40).

3. Ignatius fights most vehemently against the current forms of heresy. The chief danger to the church came from the Docetists who denied the reality of the humanity of Christ and ascribed to him a phantom body. Hence we find Ignatius laying the utmost stress on the fact that Christ “was truly born and ate and drank, was truly persecuted under Pontius Pilate ... was truly raised from the dead” (Trall. 9). “I know that He was in the flesh even after the resurrection, and when He came to Peter and his company, He said to them, ‘Lay hold and handle me, and see that I am not an incorporeal spirit’” (Smyrn. 3). Equally emphatic is Ignatius’s protest against a return to Judaism. “It is monstrous to talk of Jesus Christ and to practise Judaism, for Christianity did not believe in Judaism but Judaism in Christianity” (Magn. 10).

3. Ignatius strongly opposes the current forms of heresy. The main threat to the church came from the Docetists, who denied the reality of Christ's humanity and claimed he had a phantom body. That's why Ignatius emphasizes that Christ “was truly born and ate and drank, was truly persecuted under Pontius Pilate ... was truly raised from the dead” (Trall. 9). “I know that He was in the flesh even after the resurrection, and when He came to Peter and his group, He said to them, ‘Touch me and see that I am not just a spirit’” (Smyrn. 3). Ignatius also strongly protests against returning to Judaism. “It’s absurd to talk about Jesus Christ and practice Judaism, because Christianity didn't come from Judaism; rather, Judaism came from Christianity” (Magn. 10).

Reference must also be made to a few of the more characteristic points in the theology of Ignatius. As far as Christology is concerned, besides the insistence on the reality of the humanity of Christ already mentioned, there are two other points which call for notice. (1) Ignatius is the earliest writer outside the New Testament to describe Christ under the categories of current philosophy; cf. the famous passage in Eph. 7, “There is one only physician, of flesh and of spirit (σαρκικὸς καὶ πνευματικός), generate and ingenerate (γεννητὸς καὶ ἀγέννητος), God in man, true life in death, son of Mary and son of God, first passible and then impassible” (πρῶτον παθητὸς καὶ ἀπαθής). (2) Ignatius is also the first writer outside the New Testament to mention the Virgin Birth, upon which he lays the utmost stress. “Hidden from the prince of this world were the virginity of Mary and her child-bearing and likewise also the death of the Lord, three mysteries to be cried aloud, the which were wrought in the silence of God” (Eph. 19). Here, it will be observed, we have the nucleus of the later doctrine of the deception of Satan. In regard to the Eucharist also later ideas occur in Ignatius. It is termed a μυστήριον (Trall. 2), and the influence of the Greek mysteries is seen in such language as that used in Eph. 20, where Ignatius describes the Eucharistic bread as “the medicine of immortality and the antidote against death.” When Ignatius says too that “the heretics abstain from Eucharist because they do not allow that the Eucharist is the flesh of Christ,” the words seem to imply that materialistic ideas were beginning to find an entrance into the church (Smyr. 6). Other points that call for special notice are: (1) Ignatius’s rather extravagant angelology. In one place for instance he speaks of himself as being able to comprehend heavenly things and “the arrays of angels and the musterings of principalities” (Trall. 5). (2) His view of the Old Testament. In one important passage Ignatius emphatically states his belief in the supremacy of Christ even over “the archives” of the faith, i.e. the Old Testament: “As for me, my archives—my inviolable archives—are Jesus Christ, His cross, His death, His resurrection and faith through Him” (Philadel. 8).

Reference must also be made to a few of the more notable points in Ignatius’s theology. In terms of Christology, aside from emphasizing the reality of Christ's humanity already mentioned, there are two additional points worth noting. (1) Ignatius is the earliest writer outside the New Testament to describe Christ using the concepts of contemporary philosophy; see the famous passage in Eph. 7, “There is only one doctor, of flesh and spirit (physical and spiritual), generated and ungenerated (born and unborn), God in man, true life in death, son of Mary and son of God, first capable of suffering and then incapable of suffering” (first emotive and unemotional). (2) Ignatius is also the first writer outside the New Testament to mention the Virgin Birth, which he emphasizes strongly. “Hidden from the ruler of this world were the virginity of Mary and her giving birth and also the death of the Lord, three mysteries to be proclaimed loudly, which were accomplished in the silence of God” (Eph. 19). Here, it can be noted, we have the core of the later doctrine concerning the deception of Satan. Concerning the Eucharist, later concepts also appear in Ignatius’s writings. It is referred to as a mystery (Trall. 2), and the influence of the Greek mysteries is evident in expressions like those in Eph. 20, where Ignatius describes the Eucharistic bread as “the medicine of immortality and the antidote against death.” When Ignatius states that “the heretics abstain from the Eucharist because they don’t accept that the Eucharist is the flesh of Christ,” the words suggest that materialistic ideas were beginning to infiltrate the church (Smyr. 6). Other notable points include: (1) Ignatius’s somewhat extravagant angelology. For instance, he claims to be able to comprehend heavenly matters and “the ranks of angels and the gatherings of principalities” (Trall. 5). (2) His perspective on the Old Testament. In one significant passage, Ignatius strongly asserts his belief in Christ’s supremacy even over “the archives” of the faith, i.e., the Old Testament: “As for me, my archives—my unchangeable archives—are Jesus Christ, His cross, His death, His resurrection, and faith through Him” (Philadel. 8).

Authorities.—T. Zahn, Ignatius von Antiochien (Gotha, 1873); J. B. Lightfoot, Apostolic Fathers, part ii. (London, 2nd ed., 1889); F. X. Funk, Die Echtheit der ignat. Briefe (Tübingen, 1892); A. Harnack, Chronologie der altchristlichen Litteratur (Leipzig, 1897). There is a good bibliography in G. Krüger, Early Christian Literature (Eng. trans., 1897, pp. 28-29). See also Apostolic Fathers.

Authorities. — T. Zahn, Ignatius of Antioch (Gotha, 1873); J. B. Lightfoot, Apostolic Fathers, part ii. (London, 2nd ed., 1889); F. X. Funk, The Authenticity of the Ignatian Letters (Tübingen, 1892); A. Harnack, Chronology of Early Christian Literature (Leipzig, 1897). There is a good bibliography in G. Krüger, Early Christian Literature (Eng. trans., 1897, pp. 28-29). See also Apostolic Fathers.

(H. T. A.)

1 In his short treatise “Of Prelatical Episcopacy,” works iii. p. 72 (Pickering, 1851).

1 In his brief essay “Of Prelatical Episcopacy,” works iii. p. 72 (Pickering, 1851).

2 Theologisch. Tijdschrift (1892), 625-633.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Theological Review (1892), 625-633.

3 Ib. (1886) 114-136; Die Ignatianischen Briefe (1892).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ib. (1886) 114-136; The Ignatian Letters (1892).

4 Ib. (1893) 275-316.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ib. (1893) 275-316.

5 But there are still a few scholars, e.g. van Manen and Völter, who prefer a date about 150 or later; van Loon goes as late as 175. See article “Old-Christian Literature,” Ency. Bib. iii. col. 3488.

5 But there are still a few scholars, e.g. van Manen and Völter, who lean towards a date around 150 or later; van Loon pushes it as far as 175. See article “Old-Christian Literature,” Ency. Bib. iii. col. 3488.


IGNORAMUS (Latin for “we do not know,” “we take no notice of”), properly an English law term for the endorsement on the bill of indictment made by a grand jury when they “throw out” the bill, i.e. when they do not consider that the case should go to a petty jury. The expression is now obsolete, “not a true bill,” “no bill,” being used. The expressions “ignoramus jury,” “ignoramus Whig,” &c., were common in the political satires and pamphlets of the years following on the throwing out of the bill for high treason against the 2nd earl of Shaftesbury in 1681. The application of the term to an ignorant person dates from the early part of the 17th century. The New English Dictionary quotes two examples illustrating the early connexion of the term with the law or lawyers. George Ruggle (1575-1622) in 1615 wrote a Latin play with the title Ignoramus, the name being also that of the chief character in it, intended for one Francis Brakin, the recorder of Cambridge. It is a satire against the ignorance and pettifogging of the common lawyers of the day. It was answered by a prose tract (not printed till 1648) by one Robert Callis, serjeant-at-law. This bore the title of The Case and Argument against Sir Ignoramus of Cambridge.

IGNORAMUS (Latin for “we do not know,” “we take no notice of”) is a term from English law for the endorsement on a bill of indictment given by a grand jury when they “throw out” the bill, meaning they don’t think the case should go to a petty jury. This expression is now outdated; “not a true bill” and “no bill” are used instead. The terms “ignoramus jury,” “ignoramus Whig,” etc., were popular in political satires and pamphlets after the grand jury dismissed the bill for high treason against the 2nd Earl of Shaftesbury in 1681. The use of the term to describe an ignorant person dates back to the early 17th century. The New English Dictionary cites two examples showing the early connection of the term with the law or lawyers. George Ruggle (1575-1622) wrote a Latin play titled Ignoramus in 1615, featuring a character with the same name, aimed at Francis Brakin, the recorder of Cambridge. It satirizes the ignorance and petty legal practices of contemporary common lawyers. This was responded to by a prose tract (not published until 1648) by Robert Callis, serjeant-at-law, titled The Case and Argument against Sir Ignoramus of Cambridge.


IGNORANCE (Lat. ignorantia, from ignorare, not to know), want of knowledge, a state of mind which in law has important consequences. A well-known legal maxim runs: ignorantia juris non excusat (“ignorance of the law does not excuse”). With this is sometimes coupled another maxim: ignorantia facti excusat (“ignorance of the fact excuses”). That every one who has capacity to understand the law is presumed to know it is a very necessary principle, for otherwise the courts would be continually occupied in endeavouring to solve problems which by their very impracticability would render the administration of justice next to impossible. It would be necessary for the 295 court to engage in endless inquiries as to the true inwardness of a man’s mind, whether his state of ignorance existed at the time of the commission of the offence, whether such a condition of mind was inevitable or brought about merely by indifference on his part. Therefore, in English, as in Roman law, ignorance of the law is no ground for avoiding the consequences of an act. So far as regards criminal offences, the maxim as to ignorantia juris admits of no exception, even in the case of a foreigner temporarily in England, who is likely to be ignorant of English law. In Roman law the harshness of the rule was mitigated in the case of women, soldiers and persons under the age of twenty-five, unless they had good legal advice within reach (Dig. xxii. 6. 9). Ignorance of a matter of fact may in general be alleged in avoidance of the consequences of acts and agreements, but such ignorance cannot be pleaded where it is the duty of a person to know, or where, having the means of knowledge at his disposal, he wilfully or negligently fails to avail himself of it (see Contract).

IGNORANCE (Lat. ignorantia, from ignorare, meaning not to know), refers to a lack of knowledge, which has significant implications in law. A well-known legal principle states: ignorantia juris non excusat (“ignorance of the law does not excuse”). This is sometimes paired with another principle: ignorantia facti excusat (“ignorance of the fact excuses”). It’s essential that everyone capable of understanding the law is presumed to know it; otherwise, courts would be endlessly trying to figure out complex issues that could make it nearly impossible to administer justice. The court would need to conduct endless inquiries about a person’s mindset, determining whether their ignorance existed at the time of the offense and whether it was unavoidable or simply a result of their indifference. Thus, in both English and Roman law, ignorance of the law cannot be used as a reason to escape the consequences of one's actions. In cases of criminal offenses, the maxim regarding ignorantia juris has no exceptions, even for foreigners temporarily in England who might not know English law. In Roman law, the severity of this rule was softened for women, soldiers, and individuals under the age of twenty-five, unless they had access to good legal advice (Dig. xxii. 6. 9). Generally, ignorance of a factual matter can be used to avoid the consequences of actions and agreements, but this ignorance cannot be claimed when a person is expected to know or when they have the means to be informed but fail to take advantage of it (see Contract).

In logic, ignorance is that state of mind which for want of evidence is equally unable to affirm or deny one thing or another. Doubt, on the other hand, can neither affirm nor deny because the evidence seems equally strong for both. For Ignoratio Elenchi (ignorance of the refutation) see Fallacy.

In logic, ignorance is that state of mind where, due to lack of evidence, one cannot confidently affirm or deny anything. Doubt, on the other hand, cannot affirm or deny because the evidence seems equally compelling for both sides. For Ignoratio Elenchi (ignorance of the refutation) see Fallacy.


IGNORANTINES (Frères Ignorantins), a name given to the Brethren of the Christian Schools (Frères des Écoles Chrétiennes), a religious fraternity founded at Reims in 1680, and formally organized in 1683, by the priest Jean Baptiste de la Salle, for the purpose of affording a free education, especially in religion, to the children of the poor. In addition to the three simple vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, the brothers were required to give their services without any remuneration and to wear a special habit of coarse black material, consisting of a cassock, a hooded cloak with hanging sleeves and a broad-brimmed hat. The name Ignorantine was given from a clause in the rules of the order forbidding the admission of priests with a theological education. Other popular names applied to the order are Frères de Saint-Yon, from the house at Rouen, which was their headquarters from 1705 till 1770, Frères à quatre bras, from their hanging sleeves, and Frères Fouetteurs, from their former use of the whip (fouet) in punishments. The order, approved by Pope Benedict XIII. in 1724, rapidly spread over France, and although dissolved by the National Assembly’s decree in February 1790, was recalled by Napoleon I. in 1804, and formally recognized by the French government in 1808. Since then its members have penetrated into nearly every country of Europe, and into America, Asia and Africa. They number about 14,000 members and have over 2000 schools, and are the strongest Roman Catholic male order. Though not officially connected with the Jesuits, their organization and discipline are very similar.

IGNORANTINES (Frères Ignorantins), a name for the Brethren of the Christian Schools (Frères des Écoles Chrétiennes), is a religious group founded in Reims in 1680 and formally organized in 1683 by the priest Jean Baptiste de la Salle. Its mission was to provide free education, especially in religion, to underprivileged children. Besides taking three simple vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, the brothers were expected to serve without pay and to wear a specific habit made of rough black fabric, which included a cassock, a hooded cloak with flowing sleeves, and a wide-brimmed hat. The term "Ignorantine" originated from a rule of the order that prohibited admitting priests with a theological education. They are also known as Frères de Saint-Yon, named after their headquarters in Rouen from 1705 to 1770; Frères à quatre bras, referring to their hanging sleeves; and Frères Fouetteurs, referencing their previous use of a whip (fouet) for discipline. The order gained approval from Pope Benedict XIII in 1724 and quickly expanded throughout France. Although it was dissolved by the National Assembly’s decree in February 1790, it was reinstated by Napoleon I in 1804 and officially recognized by the French government in 1808. Since then, its members have spread to nearly every country in Europe, as well as to America, Asia, and Africa. They currently have around 14,000 members and operate over 2,000 schools, making them the largest Roman Catholic male religious order. While not officially linked to the Jesuits, their structure and discipline are quite similar.

See J. B. Blain, La Vie du vénérable J. B. de la Salle (Versailles, 1887).

See J. B. Blain, The Life of the Venerable J. B. de la Salle (Versailles, 1887).


IGUALADA, a town of north-eastern Spain, in the province of Barcelona, on the left bank of the river Noya, a right-hand tributary of the Llobregat, and at the northern terminus of the Igualada-Martorell-Barcelona railway. Pop. (1900) 10,442. Igualada is the central market of a rich agricultural and wine-producing district. It consists of an old town with narrow and irregular streets and the remains of a fortress and ramparts, and a new town which possesses regular and spacious streets and many fine houses. The local industries, chiefly developed since 1880, include the manufacture of cotton, linen, wool, ribbons, cloth, chocolate, soap, brandies, leather, cards and nails. The famous mountain and convent of Montserrat or Monserrat (q.v.) is 12 m. E.

IGUALADA, is a town in northeastern Spain, located in the province of Barcelona, on the left bank of the Noya River, which is a right tributary of the Llobregat, and at the northern end of the Igualada-Martorell-Barcelona railway. Population (1900) was 10,442. Igualada serves as the main market for a wealthy agricultural and wine-producing region. It features an old town with narrow, winding streets and the ruins of a fortress and walls, as well as a new town with wide, organized streets and many beautiful houses. Local industries, primarily developed since 1880, include the production of cotton, linen, wool, ribbons, cloth, chocolate, soap, brandies, leather, cards, and nails. The famous mountain and monastery of Montserrat (q.v.) is located 12 miles to the east.


IGUANA, systematically Iguanidae (Spanish quivalent of Carib iwana), a family of pleurodont lizards, comprising about 50 genera and 300 species. With three exceptions, all the genera of this extensive family belong to the New World, being specially characteristic of the Neotropical region, where they occur as far south as Patagonia, while extending northward into the warmer parts of the Nearctic regions as far as California and British Columbia. The exceptional genera are Brachylophus in the Fiji Islands, Hoplurus and Chalarodon in Madagascar. The iguanas are characterized by the peculiar form of their teeth, these being round at the root and blade-like, with serrated edges towards the tip, resembling in this respect the gigantic extinct reptile Iguanodon. The typical forms belonging to this family are distinguished by the large dewlap or pouch situated beneath the head and neck, and by the crest, composed of slender elongated scales, which extends in gradually diminishing height from the nape of the neck to the extremity of the tail. The latter organ is very long, slender and compressed. The tongue is generally short and not deeply divided at its extremity, nor is its base retracted into a sheath; it is always moist and covered with a glutinous secretion. The prevailing colour of the iguanas is green; and, as the majority of them are arboreal in their habits, such colouring is generally regarded as protective. Those on the other hand which reside on the ground have much duller, although as a rule equally protective hues. Some iguanas, however (e.g. Anolis carolinensis), possess, to an extent only exceeded by the chameleon, the power of changing their colours, their brilliant green becoming transformed under the influence of fear or irritation, into more sombre hues and even into black. They differ greatly in size, from a few inches to several feet in length.

IGUANA, systematically Iguanidae (the Spanish equivalent of Carib iwana), is a family of pleurodont lizards that includes about 50 genera and 300 species. With three exceptions, all genera in this extensive family are found in the New World, particularly in the Neotropical region, where they can be found as far south as Patagonia and extend northward into the warmer parts of the Nearctic regions up to California and British Columbia. The exceptions are Brachylophus in the Fiji Islands, and Hoplurus and Chalarodon in Madagascar. Iguanas are known for their unique tooth structure, which is round at the base and blade-like with serrated edges towards the tip, resembling the gigantic extinct reptile Iguanodon. The typical forms in this family are recognized by the large dewlap or pouch located beneath the head and neck, and by the crest made of slender elongated scales that gradually diminish in height from the nape of the neck to the end of the tail. The tail is very long, slender, and compressed. The tongue is usually short and not deeply forked at the tip, nor is its base tucked into a sheath; it's always moist and covered with a sticky secretion. The dominant color of iguanas is green, and since most of them live in trees, this coloration is generally seen as camouflage. Those that live on the ground tend to have much duller, yet still protective, colors. Some iguanas, however (e.g. Anolis carolinensis), have the remarkable ability to change their colors, their bright green shifts under stress or irritation to more muted shades and even black. They vary significantly in size, ranging from a few inches to several feet in length.

Fig. 1.—Iguana.

One of the largest and most widely distributed is the common iguana (Iguana tuberculata), which occurs in the tropical parts of Central and South America and the West Indies, with the closely allied I. rhinolophus. It attains a length of 6 ft., weighing then perhaps 30 ℔, and is of a greenish colour, occasionally mixed with brown, while the tail is surrounded with alternate rings of those colours. Its food consists of vegetable substances, mostly leaves, which it obtains from the forest trees among whose branches it lives and in the hollows of which it deposits its eggs. These are of an oblong shape about 1½ in. in length, and are said by travellers to be very pleasant eating, especially when taken raw, and mixed with farina. They are timid, defenceless animals, depending for safety on the comparative inaccessibility of their arboreal haunts, and their protective colouring, which is rendered even more effective by their remaining still on the approach of danger. But the favourite resorts of the iguana are trees which overhang the 296 water, into which they let themselves fall with a splash, whatever the height of the tree, and then swim away, or hide at the bottom for many minutes. Otherwise they exhibit few signs of animal intelligence. “The iguana,” says H. W. Bates (The Naturalist on the Amazons), “is one of the stupidest animals I ever met. The one I caught dropped helplessly from a tree just ahead of me; it turned round for a moment to have an idiotic stare at the intruder and then set off running along the path. I ran after it and it then stopped as a timid dog would do, crouching down and permitting me to seize it by the neck and carry it off.” Along with several other species, notably Ctenosura acanthinura, which is omnivorous, likewise called iguana, the common iguana, is much sought after in tropical America; the natives esteem its flesh a delicacy, and capture it by slipping a noose round its neck as it sits in fancied security on the branch of a tree.

One of the largest and most widely found is the common iguana (Iguana tuberculata), which lives in the tropical regions of Central and South America and the West Indies, along with the closely related I. rhinolophus. It can grow up to 6 feet long and weigh around 30 pounds, typically having a greenish color that sometimes blends with brown. Its tail has alternating rings of these colors. Its diet mainly consists of plant matter, mostly leaves that it gathers from the trees in the forests where it lives and lays its eggs in the hollows of those trees. The eggs are oblong and about 1.5 inches long, and travelers have said they are very tasty, especially when eaten raw with farina. They are timid and defenseless creatures that rely on the relative inaccessibility of their tree homes and their camouflage, which is more effective because they stay still when danger approaches. Their preferred spots are trees that hang over water, from which they drop themselves with a splash, no matter how high, and swim away or hide at the bottom for a while. Otherwise, they show few signs of intelligence. “The iguana,” says H. W. Bates (The Naturalist on the Amazons), “is one of the dumbest animals I ever encountered. The one I caught fell helplessly from a tree right in front of me; it paused for a moment to give me a blank stare and then ran along the path. I chased it, and it stopped like a scared dog, crouching down and letting me grab it by the neck and carry it away.” Along with several other species, especially Ctenosura acanthinura, which is omnivorous and also called iguana, the common iguana is highly sought after in tropical America; locals consider its meat a delicacy and catch it by slipping a noose around its neck while it rests on a branch, believing itself to be safe.

Fig. 2.—Head of Iguana rhinolophus.

Although chiefly arboreal, many of the iguanas take readily to the water; and there is at least one species, Amblyrhynchus cristatus, which leads for the most part an aquatic life. These marine lizards occur only in the Galapagos Islands, where they are never seen more than 20 yds. inland, while they may often be observed in companies several hundreds of yards from the shore, swimming with great facility by means of their flattened tails. Their feet are all more or less webbed, but in swimming they are said to keep these organs motionless by their sides. Their food consists of marine vegetation, to obtain which they dive beneath the water, where they are able to remain, without coming to the surface to breathe, for a very considerable time. Though they are thus the most aquatic of lizards, Darwin, who studied their habits during his visit to those islands, states that when frightened they will not enter the water. Driven along a narrow ledge of rock to the edge of the sea, they preferred capture to escape by swimming, while if thrown into the water they immediately returned to the point from which they started. A land species belonging to the allied genus Conolophus also occurs in the Galapagos, which differs from most of its kind in forming burrows in the ground.

Although primarily tree-dwelling, many iguanas are comfortable in the water; in fact, there is at least one species, Amblyrhynchus cristatus, that mostly lives an aquatic life. These marine lizards are found only in the Galapagos Islands, where they are never seen more than 20 yards inland, yet they are often spotted in groups several hundred yards from the shore, swimming effortlessly with their flattened tails. Their feet are somewhat webbed, but when swimming, they are said to keep these limbs still by their sides. Their diet consists of marine plants, which they gather by diving under the water, where they can stay submerged for quite some time without needing to surface for air. Despite being the most aquatic of lizards, Darwin, who observed their behavior during his visit to those islands, noted that when scared, they would avoid the water. When driven along a narrow rock ledge to the water's edge, they preferred to be caught rather than escape by swimming; if thrown into the water, they would quickly swim back to where they started. A land species from the related genus Conolophus can also be found in the Galapagos, which differs from most others by digging burrows in the ground.


IGUANODON, a large extinct herbivorous land reptile from the Wealden formation of western Europe, almost completely known by numerous skeletons from Bernissart, near Mons, Belgium. It is a typical representative of the ornithopodous (Gr. for bird-footed) Dinosauria. The head is large and laterally compressed with a blunt snout, nearly terminal nostrils and relatively small eyes. The sides of the jaws are provided with a close series of grinding teeth, which are often worn down to stumps; the front of the jaws forms a toothless beak, which would be encased originally in a horny sheath. When unworn the teeth are spatulate and crimped or serrated round the edge, closely resembling those of the existing Central American lizard, Iguana—hence the name Iguanodon (Gr. Iguana-tooth) proposed by Mantell, the discoverer of this reptile, in 1825. The bodies of the vertebrae are solid; and they are convexo-concave (i.e. opisthocoelous) in the neck and anterior part of the back, where there must have been much freedom of motion. The hindquarters are comparatively large and heavy, while the tail is long, deep and more or less laterally compressed, evidently adapted for swimming. The small and mobile fore-limbs bear four complete fingers, with the thumb reduced to a bony spur. The pelvis and hind-limbs much resemble those of a running bird, such as those of an emu or the extinct moa; but the basal bones (metatarsals) of the three-toed foot remain separate throughout life, thus differing from those of the running birds, which are firmly fused together even in the young adult. No external armour has been found. The reptile doubtless frequented marshes, feeding on the succulent vegetation, and often swimming in the water. Footprints prove that when on land it walked habitually on its hind-limbs.

IGUANODON, is a large extinct herbivorous land reptile from the Wealden formation of western Europe, primarily known from numerous skeletons found in Bernissart, near Mons, Belgium. It is a typical example of the ornithopod (meaning bird-footed) Dinosauria. The head is large and laterally flattened with a blunt snout, nearly terminal nostrils, and relatively small eyes. The sides of the jaws have a close series of grinding teeth, which are often worn down to stumps; the front of the jaws forms a toothless beak that would have originally been covered in a horny sheath. When unworn, the teeth are spatula-shaped with crimped or serrated edges, closely resembling those of the existing Central American lizard, Iguana—thus the name Iguanodon (meaning Iguana-tooth), which was proposed by Mantell, the discoverer of this reptile, in 1825. The bodies of the vertebrae are solid and have a convex-concave shape (i.e., opisthocoelous) in the neck and front part of the back, suggesting there was a lot of freedom of motion. The hindquarters are relatively large and heavy, while the tail is long, deep, and somewhat laterally compressed, clearly suited for swimming. The small and flexible forelimbs have four complete fingers, with the thumb reduced to a bony spur. The pelvis and hind limbs are quite similar to those of a running bird, like an emu or the extinct moa; however, the basal bones (metatarsals) of the three-toed foot remain distinct throughout life, unlike those of running birds, which fuse together even in young adults. No external armor has been found. This reptile likely lived in marshes, feeding on lush vegetation, and often swimming in the water. Footprints indicate that when on land, it typically walked on its hind limbs.

Skeleton of Iguanadon bernissartensis. (After Dollo.)

The earliest remains of Iguanodon were found by Dr G. A. Mantell in the Wealden formation of Sussex, and a large part of the skeleton, lacking the head, was subsequently discovered in a block of ragstone in the Lower Greensand near Maidstone, Kent. These fossils, which are now in the British Museum, were interpreted by Dr Mantell, who made comparisons with the skeleton of Iguana, on the erroneous supposition that the resemblance in the teeth denoted some relationship to this existing lizard. Several of the bones, however, could not be understood until the much later discoveries of Mr S. H. Beckles in the Wealden cliffs near Hastings; and an accurate knowledge of the skeleton was only obtained when many complete specimens were disinterred by the Belgian government from the Wealden beds at Bernissart, near Mons, during the years 1877-1880. These skeletons, which now form the most striking feature of the Brussels Museum, evidently represent a large troop of animals which were suddenly destroyed and buried in a deep 297 ravine or gully. The typical species, Iguanodon mantelli, measures 5 to 6 metres in length, while I. bernissartensis (see fig.) attains a length of 8 to 10 metres. They are found both at Bernissart and in the south of England, while other species are also known from Sussex. Nearly complete skeletons of allied reptiles have been discovered in the Jurassic and Cretaceous rocks of North America.

The earliest remains of Iguanodon were found by Dr. G. A. Mantell in the Wealden formation of Sussex. A large part of the skeleton, missing the head, was later discovered in a block of ragstone in the Lower Greensand near Maidstone, Kent. These fossils, now in the British Museum, were interpreted by Dr. Mantell, who compared them with the skeleton of Iguana under the mistaken belief that the similarity in teeth indicated a relationship to this living lizard. However, several of the bones were not understood until later discoveries by Mr. S. H. Beckles in the Wealden cliffs near Hastings. A complete understanding of the skeleton emerged only when many intact specimens were excavated by the Belgian government from the Wealden beds at Bernissart, near Mons, between 1877 and 1880. These skeletons, which are now a standout feature at the Brussels Museum, clearly represent a large group of animals that were suddenly killed and buried in a deep ravine. The typical species, Iguanodon mantelli, measures 5 to 6 meters in length, while I. bernissartensis (see fig.) can reach lengths of 8 to 10 meters. They are found both at Bernissart and in southern England, with other species known from Sussex as well. Nearly complete skeletons of related reptiles have also been found in the Jurassic and Cretaceous rocks of North America.

References.—G. A. Mantell, Petrifactions and their Teaching (London, 1851); L. Dollo, papers in Bull. Mus. Roy. d’Hist. Nat. Belg., vols. i.-iii. (1882-1884).

References.—G. A. Mantell, Petrifactions and their Teaching (London, 1851); L. Dollo, articles in Bull. Mus. Roy. d’Hist. Nat. Belg., vols. i.-iii. (1882-1884).

(A. S. Wo.)

IGUVIUM (mod. Gubbio, q.v.), a town of Umbria, situated among the mountains, about 23 m. N.N.E. of Perusia and connected with it by a by-road, which joined the Via Flaminia near the temple of Jupiter Appenninus, at the modern Scheggia. It appears to have been an important place in pre-Roman times, both from its coins and from the celebrated tabulae Iguvinae (see below).

IGUVIUM (now Gubbio, see entry), a town in Umbria, located among the mountains, about 23 miles north-northeast of Perugia, connected to it by a side road that linked the Via Flaminia near the temple of Jupiter Appenninus, at what is now Scheggia. It seems to have been an important site in pre-Roman times, based on its coins and the famous tabulae Iguvinae (see below).

We find it in possession of a treaty with Rome, similar to that of the Camertes Umbri; and in 167 B.C. it was used as a place of safe custody for the Illyrian King Gentius and his sons (Livy xlv. 43). After the Social War, in which it took no part, it received Roman citizenship. At that epoch it must have received full citizen rights since it was included in the tribus Clustumina (C.I.L. xi. e.g. 5838). In 49 B.C. it was occupied by Minucius Thermus on behalf of Pompey, but he abandoned the town. Under the empire we hear almost nothing of it. Silius Italicus mentions it as subject to fogs. A bishop of Iguvium is mentioned as early as A.D. 413. It was taken and destroyed by the Goths in 552, but rebuilt with the help of Narses. The Umbrian town had three gates only, and probably lay on the steep mountain side as the present town does, while the Roman city lay in the lower ground. Here is the theatre, which, as an inscription records, was restored by Cn. Satrius Rufus in the time of Augustus. The diameter of the orchestra is 76½ ft. and of the whole 230 ft., so that it is a building of considerable size; the stage is well preserved and so are parts of the external arcades of the auditorium. Not far off are ruins probably of ancient baths, and the concrete core of a large tomb with a vaulted chamber within.

We have a treaty with Rome, similar to that of the Camertes Umbri; and in 167 B.C., it was used as a safe place for the Illyrian King Gentius and his sons (Livy xlv. 43). After the Social War, which it did not participate in, it gained Roman citizenship. At that time, it likely received full citizen rights since it was included in the tribus Clustumina (C.I.L. xi. e.g. 5838). In 49 B.C., it was occupied by Minucius Thermus on behalf of Pompey, but he abandoned the town. Under the empire, we hear almost nothing about it. Silius Italicus mentions it as being subject to fogs. A bishop of Iguvium is mentioned as early as A.D. 413. It was taken and destroyed by the Goths in 552 but was rebuilt with the help of Narses. The Umbrian town only had three gates and probably sat on a steep mountainside, much like the present town does, while the Roman city lay in the lower ground. Here are the remains of the theater, which, as an inscription notes, was restored by Cn. Satrius Rufus during the time of Augustus. The diameter of the orchestra is 76½ ft., and the total size is 230 ft., making it a considerable building; the stage is well preserved, as are parts of the external arcades of the auditorium. Not far away are ruins that are likely from ancient baths, and the concrete core of a large tomb with a vaulted chamber inside.

(T. As.)

Of Latin inscriptions (C.I.L. xi. 5803-5926) found at Iguvium two or three are of Augustan date, but none seem to be earlier. A Latin inscription of Iguvium (C.I.L. xi. 5824) mentions a priest whose functions are characteristic of the place “L. Veturius Rufio avispex extispecus, sacerdos publicus et privatus.”

Of the Latin inscriptions (C.I.L. xi. 5803-5926) found at Iguvium, two or three date back to the Augustan period, but none appear to be older. A Latin inscription from Iguvium (C.I.L. xi. 5824) refers to a priest whose duties are typical of the location: “L. Veturius Rufio avispex extispecus, sacerdos publicus et privatus.”

The ancient town is chiefly celebrated for the famous Iguvine (less correctly Eugubine) Tables, which were discovered there in 1444, bought by the municipality in 1456, and are still preserved in the town hall. A Dominican, Leandro Alberti (Descrizione d’Italia, 1550), states that they were originally nine in number, and an independent authority, Antonio Concioli (Statuta civitatis Eugubii, 1673), states that two of the nine were taken to Venice in 1540 and never reappeared. The existing seven were first published in a careful but largely mistaken transcript by Buonarotti in 1724, as an appendix to Dempster’s De Etruria Regali.1

The ancient town is mainly known for the famous Iguvine (less accurately Eugubine) Tables, which were found there in 1444, purchased by the local government in 1456, and are still kept in the town hall. A Dominican named Leandro Alberti (Descrizione d’Italia, 1550) notes that there were originally nine of them, and an independent source, Antonio Concioli (Statuta civitatis Eugubii, 1673), mentions that two of the nine were taken to Venice in 1540 and never returned. The remaining seven were first published in a careful but mostly incorrect transcript by Buonarotti in 1724, as an appendix to Dempster’s De Etruria Regali. 1

The first real advance towards their interpretation was made by Otfried Müller (Die Etrusker, 1828), who pointed out that though their alphabet was akin to the Etruscan their language was Italic. Lepsius, in his essay De tabulis Eugubinis (1833), finally determined the value of the Umbrian signs and the received order of the Tables, pointing out that those in Latin alphabet were the latest. He subsequently published what may be called the editio princeps in 1841. The first edition, with a full commentary based on scientific principles, was that of Aufrecht and Kirchhoff in 1849-1851, and on this all subsequent interpretations are based (Bréal, Paris, 1875; Bücheler, Umbrica, Bonn, 1883, a reprint and enlargement of articles in Fleckeisen’s Jahrbuch, 1875, pp. 127 and 313). The text is everywhere perfectly legible, and is excellently represented in photographs by the marquis Ranghiasci-Brancaleone, published with Bréal’s edition.

The first significant step towards understanding them was taken by Otfried Müller (Die Etrusker, 1828), who noted that while their alphabet was similar to the Etruscan, their language was Italic. Lepsius, in his essay De tabulis Eugubinis (1833), ultimately established the meaning of the Umbrian signs and the accepted order of the Tables, highlighting that those in the Latin alphabet were the most recent. He later published what could be called the editio princeps in 1841. The first edition with a detailed commentary grounded in scientific principles was produced by Aufrecht and Kirchhoff from 1849 to 1851, and all following interpretations rely on this work (Bréal, Paris, 1875; Bücheler, Umbrica, Bonn, 1883, a reprint and expansion of articles in Fleckeisen’s Jahrbuch, 1875, pp. 127 and 313). The text is completely legible everywhere and is well represented in photographs by the marquis Ranghiasci-Brancaleone, published with Bréal’s edition.

Language.—The dialect in which this ancient set of liturgies is written is usually known as Umbrian, as it is the only monument we possess of any length of the tongue spoken in the Umbrian district before it was latinized (see Umbria). The name, however, is certainly too wide, since an inscription from Tuder of, probably, the 3rd century B.C. (R. S. Conway, The Italic Dialects, 352) shows a final -s and a medial -d-, both apparently preserved from the changes which befell these sounds, as we shall see, in the dialect of Iguvium. On the other hand, inscriptions of Fulginia and Assisium (ibid. 354-355) agree very well, so far as they go, with Iguvine. It is especially necessary to make clear that the language known as Umbrian is that of a certain limited area, which cannot yet be shown to have extended very far beyond the eastern half of the Tiber valley (from Interamna Nahartium to Urvinum Mataurense), because the term is often used by archaeologists with a far wider connotation to include all the Italic, pre-Etruscan inhabitants of upper Italy; Professor Ridgeway, for instance, in his Early Age of Greece, frequently speaks of the “Umbrians” as the race to which belonged the Villanova culture of the Early Iron age. It is now one of the most urgent problems in the history of Italy to determine the actual historical relation (see further Rome: History, ad. init.) between the Ὀμβροί of, say, Herodotus and the language of Iguvium, of which we may now offer some description, using the term Umbrian strictly in this sense.

Language.—The dialect in which this ancient set of liturgies is written is commonly referred to as Umbrian, as it is the only significant example we have of the language spoken in the Umbrian region before it was influenced by Latin (see Umbria). However, the name is likely too broad, since an inscription from Tuder, dating to probably the 3rd century BCE (R. S. Conway, The Italic Dialects, 352), features a final -s and a medial -d-, both seemingly retained from the changes that affected these sounds, as we will see, in the Iguvian dialect. On the other hand, inscriptions from Fulginia and Assisium (ibid. 354-355) align quite well, as far as they go, with Iguvine. It is particularly important to clarify that the language known as Umbrian pertains to a specific limited area, which hasn't yet been proven to extend very far beyond the eastern half of the Tiber valley (from Interamna Nahartium to Urvinum Mataurense), because the term is often used by archaeologists in a much broader sense to encompass all the Italic, pre-Etruscan inhabitants of northern Italy; for example, Professor Ridgeway, in his Early Age of Greece, frequently refers to the “Umbrians” as the people associated with the Villanova culture of the Early Iron Age. Determining the actual historical relationship (see further Rome: History, ad. init.) between the Rain mentioned by Herodotus and the language of Iguvium is now one of the most pressing issues in the history of Italy, and we will attempt to describe it, using the term Umbrian in this precise context.

Under the headings Latin Language and Osca Lingua there have been collected (1) the points which separate all the Italic languages from their nearest congeners, and (2) those which separate Osco-Umbrian from Latin. We have now to notice (3) the points in which Umbrian has diverged from Oscan. The first of them antedates by six or seven centuries the similar change in the Romance languages (see Romance Languages).

Under the headings Latin Language and Osca Lingua, we have gathered (1) the differences that set all the Italic languages apart from their closest relatives, and (2) the distinctions between Osco-Umbrian and Latin. Now, we need to look at (3) the ways in which Umbrian has differed from Oscan. The first of these differences occurred six or seven centuries before the similar change in the Romance languages (see Romance Languages).

(1) The palatalization of k and g before a following i or e, or consonant i as in tiçit (i.e. diçit) = Lat. decet; muieto past part. passive (pronounced as though the i were an English or French j) beside Umb. imperative mugatu, Lat. mugire.

(1) The softening of k and g before a following i or e, or consonant i as in tiçit (i.e. diçit) = Latin decet; muieto past participle passive (pronounced like the i was an English or French j) alongside Umbrian imperative mugatu, Latin mugire.

(2) The loss of final -d, e.g. in the abl. sing. fem. Umb. tōtā = Osc. toutād.

(2) The loss of final -d, e.g. in the ablative singular feminine Umbrian tōtā = Osc. toutād.

(3) The change of d between vowels to a sound akin to r, written by a special symbol () in Umbrian alphabet and by RS in Latin alphabet, e.g. teḍa in Umbrian alphabet = dirsa in Latin alphabet (see below), “let him give,” exactly equivalent to Paelignian dida (see Paeligni).

(3) The change of d between vowels to a sound similar to r, represented by a special symbol () in the Umbrian alphabet and by RS in the Latin alphabet, e.g. teḍa in the Umbrian alphabet = dirsa in the Latin alphabet (see below), “let him give,” which is exactly the same as the Paelignian dida (see Paeligni).

(4) The change of -s- to -r- between vowels as in erom, “esse” = Osc. ezum, and the gen. plur. fem. ending in -aru = Lat. -arum, Osc. -azum.

(4) The change from -s- to -r- between vowels, as seen in erom, “esse” = Osc. ezum, and the gen. plur. fem. ending in -aru = Lat. -arum, Osc. -azum.

To this there appear a long string of exceptions, e.g. asa = Lat. ara. These are generally regarded as mere archaisms, and unfortunately the majority of them are in words of whose origin and meaning very little is known, so that (for all we can tell) in many the -s- may represent -ss- or -ps- as in osatu = Lat. operato, cf. Osc. opsaom.

To this, there seems to be a long list of exceptions, e.g. asa = Lat. ara. These are usually viewed as simply outdated forms, and unfortunately, most of them are in words whose origins and meanings are not well understood. So, for all we know, in many cases, the -s- might stand for -ss- or -ps- just like in osatu = Lat. operato, cf. Osc. opsaom.

(5) The change of final -ns to -f as in the acc. plur. masc. vitluf = Lat. vitulōs.

(5) The change of final -ns to -f as in the accusative plural masculine vitluf = Lat. vitulōs.

(6) In the latest stage of the dialect (see below) the change of final -s to -r, as in abl. plur. arver, arviis, i.e. “arvorum frugibus.”

(6) In the most recent stage of the dialect (see below), the change from final -s to -r, as seen in abl. plur. arver, arviis, i.e. “arvorum frugibus.”

(7) The decay of all diphthongs; ai, oi, ei all become a monophthong variously written e and i (rarely ei), as in the dat. sing. fem. tote, “civitati”; dat. sing. masc. pople, “populo”; loc. sing. masc. onse (from *om(e)sei), “in umero.” So au, eu, ou all become ō, as in ote = Osc. auti, Lat. aut.

(7) The decay of all diphthongs; ai, oi, ei all turn into a monophthong, often written as e and i (rarely ei), like in the dat. sing. fem. tote, “civitati”; dat. sing. masc. pople, “populo”; loc. sing. masc. onse (from *om(e)sei), “in umero.” Similarly, au, eu, ou all turn into ō, like in ote = Osc. auti, Lat. aut.

(8) The change of initial l to v, as in vutu = Lat. lavito.

(8) The shift from the initial l to v, as in vutu = Lat. lavito.

Owing to the peculiar character of the Tables no grammatical statement about Umbrian is free from difficulty; and these bare outlines of its phonology must be supplemented by reference to the lucid discussion in C. D. Buck’s Oscan and Umbrian Grammar (Boston, 1904), or to the earlier and admirably complete Oskischumbrische Grammatik of R. von Planta (Strassburg, 1892-1897). Some of the most important questions are discussed by R. S. Conway in The Italic Dialects, vol. ii. p. 495 seq.

Due to the unique nature of the Tables, no grammatical statement about Umbrian is straightforward; and these basic outlines of its phonology need to be backed up by the clear discussion in C. D. Buck’s Oscan and Umbrian Grammar (Boston, 1904), or by the earlier and thoroughly complete Oskischumbrische Grammatik by R. von Planta (Strassburg, 1892-1897). Some of the most significant issues are addressed by R. S. Conway in The Italic Dialects, vol. ii. p. 495 seq.

Save for the consequences of these phonetic changes, Umbrian morphology and syntax exhibit no divergence from Oscan that need be mentioned here, save perhaps two peculiar perfect-formations with -l- and -nçi-; as in ampelust, fut. perf. “impenderit,” combifiançiust, “nuntiaverit” (or the like). Full accounts of the accidence and syntax, so far as it is represented in the inscriptions, will be found in the grammars of Buck and von Planta already mentioned, and in the second volume of Conway, op. cit.

Aside from the effects of these phonetic changes, Umbrian morphology and syntax show no differences from Oscan that need to be noted here, except perhaps for two unusual perfect formations with -l- and -nçi-; like in ampelust, fut. perf. “impenderit,” combifiançiust, “nuntiaverit” (or something similar). Detailed discussions of the accidence and syntax, as represented in the inscriptions, can be found in the grammars of Buck and von Planta mentioned earlier, and in the second volume of Conway, op. cit.

Chronology. (I.) The Relative Dates of the Tables.—At least four periods in the history of the dialect can be distinguished in the records we have left to us, by the help of the successive changes (a) in alphabet and (b) in language, which the Tables exhibit. Of these only the outstanding features can be mentioned here; for a fuller discussion the reader must be referred to The Italic Dialects, pp. 400 sqq.

Chronology. (I.) The Relative Dates of the Tables.—We can identify at least four periods in the history of the dialect based on the records available, marked by the successive changes in (a) the alphabet and (b) the language shown in the Tables. Here, we will only highlight the key features; for a more detailed discussion, please refer to The Italic Dialects, pp. 400 sqq.

(a) Changes in Alphabet.—Observe first that Tables I., II., III. and IV., and the first two inscriptions of V. are in Umbrian character; the Latin alphabet is used in the Claverniur paragraph (V. iii.), and the whole of VI. (a and b) and VII. (a and b).

(a) Changes in Alphabet.—First, note that Tables I., II., III., and IV., as well as the first two inscriptions in V., are in Umbrian script; the Latin alphabet is used in the Claverniur section (V. iii.), along with all of VI. (a and b) and VII. (a and b).

What we may call the normal Umbrian alphabet (in which e.g. Table I. a is written) consists of the following signs, the writing being always from right to left: ḍ (i.e. a sound akin to r derived from d), and 298 and d, V u and (i.e. a voiceless palatal consonant.)

What we can call the standard Umbrian alphabet (in which e.g. Table I. a is represented) includes the following characters, with all writing going from right to left: ḍ (i.e. a sound similar to r that comes from d), and 298 and d, V u and (i.e. a voiceless palatal consonant.)

In the Latin alphabet, in which Tables VI. and VII. and the third inscription of Table V. are written, d is represented by RS, g by G, but k by C, d by D, t by T, v and u by V but o by O, ś by Ś, though the diacritic is often omitted. The interpunct is double with the Umbrian alphabet, single and medial with the Latin.

In the Latin alphabet, where Tables VI and VII and the third inscription of Table V are written, d is shown as RS, g as G, k as C, d as D, t as T, v and u as V, and o as O, while ś is represented by Ś, although the diacritic is often left out. The interpunct is double in the Umbrian alphabet and single and medial in the Latin.

Tables VI. and VII., then, and V. iii., were written later than the rest. But even in the earlier group certain variations appear.

Tables VI. and VII., as well as V. iii., were written after the others. However, even in the earlier group, some variations can be seen.

The latest form of the Umbrian alphabet is that of Table V. i. and ii., where the abbreviated form of m (Λ) and the angular and undivided form of k ( not ) are especially characteristic.

The latest version of the Umbrian alphabet is shown in Table V. i. and ii., where the abbreviated form of m (Λ) and the angular and undivided form of k ( not ) are particularly distinctive.

Nearest to this is that of Tables III. and IV., which form a single document; then that of I. (a) and (b); earliest would seem that of II. (a) and II. (b). In II. a, 18 and 24, we have the archaic letter san (M = s) of the abecedaria (E. S. Roberts, Int. Gr. Epig. pp. 17 ff.), which appears in no other Italic nor in any Chalcidian inscription, though it survived longer in Etruscan and Venetic use. Against this may be set the use of for t in I. b 1, but this appears also in IV. 20 and should be called rather Etruscan than archaic. These characteristics of II. a and b would be in themselves too slight to prove an earlier date, but they have perhaps some weight as confirming the evidence of the language.

Nearest to this is the combined document of Tables III and IV, followed by that of I. (a) and (b); the earliest seems to be II. (a) and II. (b). In II. a, 18 and 24, we find the ancient letter san (M = s) from the abecedaria (E. S. Roberts, Int. Gr. Epig. pp. 17 ff.), which doesn't show up in any other Italic or Chalcidian inscription, although it persisted longer in Etruscan and Venetic contexts. In contrast, the symbol for t in I. b 1 also appears in IV. 20 and should be considered more Etruscan than archaic. The features of II. a and b alone might not be enough to prove an earlier date, but they could add some weight to the evidence of the language.

(b) Changes in Language.—The evidence of date derived from changes in the language is more difficult to formulate, and the inquiry calls for the most diligent use of scientific method and critical judgment. Its intricacy lies in the character of the documents before us—religious formularies consisting partly of matter established in usage long before they were written down in their present shape, partly of additions made at the time of writing. The best example of this is furnished by the expansion and modernisation of the subject-matter of Table I. into Tables VI. and VII.a. Hence we frequently meet with forms which had passed out of the language that was spoken at the time they were engraved, side by side with their equivalents in that language. We may distinguish four periods, as follows:

(b) Changes in Language.—Determining the date based on changes in language is more complicated, requiring careful application of scientific methods and critical thinking. The challenge lies in the nature of the documents we have—religious texts that include material established long before they were recorded in their current form, along with updates made when they were written. A good example of this is seen in how the content from Table I. has been expanded and modernized into Tables VI. and VII.a. As a result, we often encounter forms that were no longer in use during the time they were created, alongside their modern equivalents. We can identify four distinct periods, as follows:

1. The first period is represented, not by any complete table, but by the old unmodernised forms of Tables III. and IV., which show the original guttural plosives unpalatalized, e.g. kebu = Lat. cibum.

1. The first period is shown, not through any complete table, but by the outdated forms of Tables III. and IV., which display the original guttural plosives unpalatalized, e.g. kebu = Lat. cibum.

2. In the second period the gutturals have been palatalized, but there yet is no change of final s to r. This is represented by the rest of III. and IV. and by II. (a and b).

2. In the second period, the gutturals have been palatalized, but there is still no change of final s to r. This is shown by the remainder of III. and IV. and by II. (a and b).

3. In the third period final s has everywhere become r. This appears in V. (i. and ii. and also iii.). Table I. is a copy or redraft made from older documents during this period. This is shown by the occasional appearance of r instead of final s.

3. In the third period, the final s has everywhere turned into r. This can be seen in V. (i., ii., and also iii.). Table I. is a copy or revision made from older documents during this time. This is indicated by the occasional use of r instead of final s.

4. Soon after the dialect had reached its latest form, the Latin alphabet was adopted. Tables VI. and VII.a contain an expanded form of the same liturgical direction as Table I.

4. Shortly after the dialect reached its latest form, the Latin alphabet was adopted. Tables VI. and VII.a include an expanded version of the same liturgical direction as Table I.

It is probable that further research will amend this classification in detail, but its main lines are generally accepted.

It’s likely that additional research will refine this classification in detail, but its main points are widely accepted.

(II.) Actual Date of the Tables.—Only the leading points can be mentioned here.

(II.) Current Date of the Tables.—Only the key points can be mentioned here.

(i.) The Latin alphabet of the latest Tables resembles that of the Tabula Bantina, and might have been engraved at almost any time between 150 B.C. and 50 B.C. It is quite likely that the closer relations with Rome, which began after the Social War, led to the adoption of the Latin alphabet. Hence we should infer that the Tables in Umbrian alphabet were at all events older than 90 B.C.

(i.) The Latin alphabet in the latest Tables is similar to that of the Tabula Bantina, and could have been carved at any point between 150 BCE and 50 BCE It's quite possible that the closer ties with Rome, which started after the Social War, led to the use of the Latin alphabet. Therefore, we can conclude that the Tables in the Umbrian alphabet were definitely older than 90 BCE

(ii.) For an upper limit of date, in default of definite evidence, it seems imprudent to go back beyond the 5th century B.C., since neither in Rome nor Campania have we any evidence of public written documents of any earlier century. When more is known of the earliest Etruscan inscriptions it may become possible to date the Iguvine Tables by their alphabetic peculiarities as compared with their mother-alphabet, the Etruscan. The “Tuscan name” is denounced in the comprehensive curse of Table VI. b, 53-60, and we may infer that the town of Iguvium was independent but in fear of the Etruscans at the time when the curse was first composed. The absence of all mention of either Gauls or Romans seems to prove that this time was at least earlier than 400 B.C.; and the curse may have been composed long before it was written down.

(ii.) For an upper limit of date, without definite evidence, it seems unwise to go back past the 5th century B.C., since we don’t have any evidence of public written documents from earlier centuries in either Rome or Campania. As more is learned about the earliest Etruscan inscriptions, it might be possible to date the Iguvine Tables based on their unique alphabet compared to their original alphabet, the Etruscan. The "Tuscan name" is condemned in the broad curse of Table VI. b, 53-60, and we can infer that the town of Iguvium was independent but fearful of the Etruscans when the curse was first created. The lack of any mention of either Gauls or Romans suggests that this time was at least earlier than 400 B.C.; and the curse may have been composed long before it was recorded.

The chief sources in which further information may be sought have been already mentioned.

The main sources where you can find more information have already been mentioned.

(R. S. C.)

1 A portion of this article is taken by permission from R. S. Conway’s Italic Dialects (Camb. Univ. Press, 1897).

1 A part of this article is used with permission from R. S. Conway’s Italic Dialects (Cambridge University Press, 1897).


IJOLITE (derived from the first syllable of the Finnish words Jiwaru, Jijoki, &c., common as geographical names in the Kola peninsula, and the Gr. λίθος, a stone), a rock consisting essentially of nepheline and augite, and of great rarity, but of considerable importance from a mineralogical and petrographical standpoint. It occurs in various parts of the Kola peninsula in north Finland on the shores of the White Sea. The pyroxene is morphic, yellow or green, and is surrounded by formless areas of nepheline. The accessory minerals are apatite, cancrinite, calcite, titanite and jiwaarite, a dark-brown titaniferous variety of melanite-garnet. This rock is the plutonic and holocrystalline analogue of the nephelenites and nepheline-dolerites; it bears the same relation to them as the nepheline-syenites have to the phonolites. It is worth mentioning that a leucite-augite rock, resembling ijolite except in containing leucite in place of nepheline, is known to occur at Shonkin Creek, near Fort Benton, Montana, and has been called missourite.

IJOLITE (from the first syllable of the Finnish words Jiwaru, Jijoki, etc., often found as geographical names in the Kola Peninsula, and the Greek stone, meaning stone), is a rock primarily made up of nepheline and augite. It is quite rare but holds significant importance from a mineralogical and petrographical perspective. It can be found in various locations throughout the Kola Peninsula in northern Finland along the shores of the White Sea. The pyroxene is morphic, appearing yellow or green, and it is surrounded by shapeless areas of nepheline. The accessory minerals include apatite, cancrinite, calcite, titanite, and jiwaarite, which is a dark-brown, titanium-rich variety of melanite-garnet. This rock is the plutonic and holocrystalline equivalent of nephelenites and nepheline-dolerites; it has the same relationship to them as nepheline-syenites do to phonolites. It’s also worth noting that a leucite-augite rock, which is similar to ijolite except that it contains leucite instead of nepheline, has been found at Shonkin Creek near Fort Benton, Montana, and is referred to as missourite.


IKI, an island belonging to Japan, lying off the north-western coast of Kiushiu, in 33° 45′ N. lat. and 129° 40′ E. long. It has a circumference of 86 m., an area of 51 sq. m., and a population of 36,530. The island is, for the most part, a tableland about 500 ft. above sea-level. The anchorage is at Gonoura, on the south-west. A part of Kublai Khan’s Mongols landed at Iki when about to invade Japan in the 13th century, for it lies in the direct route from Korea to Japan via Tsushima. In the immediate vicinity are several rocky islets.

IKI, is an island in Japan, located off the northwestern coast of Kyushu, at 33° 45′ N latitude and 129° 40′ E longitude. It has a circumference of 86 miles, an area of 51 square miles, and a population of 36,530. The island is mostly a plateau about 500 feet above sea level. The main harbor is at Gonoura, on the southwest side. A portion of Kublai Khan’s Mongol army landed on Iki when they were planning to invade Japan in the 13th century, as it is directly on the route from Korea to Japan via Tsushima. There are several rocky islets close by.


ILAGAN, the capital of the province of Isabela, Luzon, Philippine Islands, on an elevated site at the confluence of the Pinacanauan river with the Grande de Cagayan, about 200 m. N.N.E. of Manila. Pop. (1903) 16,008. The neighbouring country is the largest tobacco-producing section in the Philippines.

ILAGAN, the capital of Isabela province, Luzon, Philippines, is located on an elevated site where the Pinacanauan River meets the Grande de Cagayan, about 200 meters north-northeast of Manila. Population (1903) 16,008. The surrounding area is the largest tobacco-producing region in the Philippines.


ILCHESTER, a market town in the southern parliamentary division of Somersetshire, England, in the valley of the river Ivel or Yeo, 5 m. N.W. of Yeovil. It is connected by a stone bridge with the village of Northover on the other side of the river. Ilchester has lost the importance it once possessed, and had in 1901 a population of only 564, but its historical interest is considerable. The parish church of St Mary is Early English and Perpendicular, with a small octagonal tower, but has been largely restored in modern times. The town possesses almshouses founded in 1426, a picturesque cross, and a curious ancient mace of the former corporation.

ILCHESTER, is a market town in the southern parliamentary division of Somersetshire, England, located in the valley of the river Ivel or Yeo, 5 miles northwest of Yeovil. It is linked by a stone bridge to the village of Northover on the other side of the river. Ilchester has lost the significance it once had, and in 1901, it had a population of just 564, but it holds considerable historical interest. The parish church of St Mary features Early English and Perpendicular architecture, with a small octagonal tower, though it has been largely restored in recent times. The town has almshouses established in 1426, a charming cross, and an intriguing ancient mace from the former corporation.

Ilchester (Cair Pensavelcoit, Ischalis, Ivelcestre, Yevelchester) was a fortified British settlement, and subsequently a military station of the Romans, whose Fosse Way passed through it. Its importance continued in Saxon times, and in 1086 it was a royal borough with 107 burgesses. In 1180 a gild merchant was established, and the county gaol was completed in 1188. Henry II. granted a charter, confirmed by John in 1203, which gave Ilchester the same liberties as Winchester, with freedom from tolls and from being impleaded without the walls, the fee farm being fixed at £26, 10s. 0d. The bailiffs of Ilchester are mentioned before 1230. The borough was incorporated in 1556, the fee farm being reduced to £8. Ilchester was the centre of the county administration from the reign of Edward III. until the 19th century, when the change from road to rail travelling completed the decay of the town. Its place has been taken by Taunton. The corporation was abolished in 1886. Parliamentary representation began in 1298, and the town continued to return two members until 1832. A fair on the 29th of August was granted by the charter of 1203. Other fairs on the 27th of December, the 21st of July, and the Monday before Palm Sunday, were held under a charter of 1289. The latter, fixed as the 25th of March, was still held at the end of the 18th century, but there is now no fair. The Wednesday market dates from before the Conquest. The manufacture of thread lace was replaced by silk weaving about 1750, but this has decayed.

Ilchester (Cair Pensavelcoit, Ischalis, Ivelcestre, Yevelchester) was a fortified British settlement and later a Roman military station, through which the Fosse Way passed. Its significance persisted during Saxon times, and by 1086 it was a royal borough with 107 burgesses. In 1180, a merchant guild was established, and the county jail was completed in 1188. Henry II granted a charter, confirmed by John in 1203, which gave Ilchester the same rights as Winchester, including exemptions from tolls and from being sued outside its walls, with the fee farm set at £26, 10s. 0d. The bailiffs of Ilchester are mentioned before 1230. The borough was incorporated in 1556, reducing the fee farm to £8. Ilchester served as the center of county administration from the reign of Edward III until the 19th century, when the shift from road to rail travel led to the town's decline. It was replaced by Taunton. The corporation was abolished in 1886. Parliamentary representation started in 1298, and the town continued to send two members until 1832. A fair on August 29 was granted by the 1203 charter. Additional fairs on December 27, July 21, and the Monday before Palm Sunday were held under a 1289 charter. The latter, originally set for March 25, continued until the late 18th century, but there is currently no fair. The Wednesday market dates back to before the Conquest. The production of thread lace was replaced by silk weaving around 1750, but that industry has also declined.


ÎLE-DE-FRANCE, an old district of France, forming a kind of island, bounded by the Seine, the Marne, the Beuvronne, the Thève and the Oise. In this sense the name is not found in written documents before 1429; but in the second half of the 15th century it designated a wide military province of government, bounded N. by Picardy, W. by Normandy, S. by Orléanais and Nivernais, and E. by Champagne. Its capital was Paris. From the territory of Île-de-France were formed under the Revolution the department of the Seine, together with the greater part of Seine-et-Oise, Seine-et-Marne, Oise and Aisne, and a small part of Loiret and Nièvre. (The term Île-de-France is also used for Mauritius, q.v.).

ÎLE-DE-FRANCE, is an old region of France that forms a sort of island, surrounded by the Seine, the Marne, the Beuvronne, the Thève, and the Oise. In this context, the name didn't appear in written records until 1429; however, during the second half of the 15th century, it referred to a large military administration area, bordered to the north by Picardy, to the west by Normandy, to the south by Orléanais and Nivernais, and to the east by Champagne. Its capital was Paris. From the Île-de-France territory, several departments were created during the Revolution, including the Seine, as well as most of Seine-et-Oise, Seine-et-Marne, Oise, and Aisne, along with a small portion of Loiret and Nièvre. (The term Île-de-France is also used for Mauritius, q.v.).

See A. Longnon, “L’Île-de-France, son origine, ses limites, ses gouverneurs,” in the Mémoires de la Société de l’histoire de Paris et de l’Île-de-France, vol. i. (1875).

See A. Longnon, “The Île-de-France: Its Origins, Limits, and Governors,” in the Memoirs of the Society of the History of Paris and the Île-de-France, vol. i. (1875).

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ILETSK, formerly Fort Iletskaya Zashchita, a town of Russia, in the government of Orenburg, 48 m. S. of the town of Orenburg by the railway to Tashkent, near the Ilek river, a tributary of the Ural. Pop. 11,802 in 1897. A thick bed of excellent rock-salt is worked here to the extent of about 100,000 tons annually. The place is resorted to for its salt, mud and brine baths, and its koumiss cures.

ILETSK, previously known as Fort Iletskaya Zashchita, is a town in Russia located in the Orenburg region, 48 miles south of the town of Orenburg along the railway to Tashkent, near the Ilek River, which is a tributary of the Ural. The population was 11,802 in 1897. A thick layer of high-quality rock salt is mined here at a rate of about 100,000 tons each year. The area is visited for its salt, mud and brine baths, as well as its koumiss treatments.


ILFELD, a town in Germany, in the Prussian province of Hanover, situated at the south foot of the Harz, at the entrance to the Bährethal, 8 m. N. from Nordhausen by the railway to Wernigerode. Pop. 1600. It contains an Evangelical church, a celebrated gymnasium, once a monasterial school, with a fine library, and manufactures of parquet-flooring, paper and plaster of Paris, while another industry in the town is brewing. It is also of some repute as a health resort.

ILFELD, is a town in Germany, located in the Prussian province of Hanover, at the southern foot of the Harz Mountains, near the entrance to the Bährethal, 8 miles north of Nordhausen on the railway to Wernigerode. The population is 1,600. It has an Evangelical church, a well-known gymnasium that was once a monastery school, with a great library, and it produces parquet flooring, paper, and plaster of Paris. Brewing is another important industry in the town. It is also recognized as a health resort.

Ilfeld, as a town, dates from the 14th century, when it sprang up round a Benedictine monastery. Founded about 1190 this latter was reformed in 1545, and a year later converted into the school mentioned above, which under the rectorship of Michael Neander (1525-1595) enjoyed a reputation for scholarship which it has maintained until to-day.

Ilfeld, as a town, traces its origins back to the 14th century, when it developed around a Benedictine monastery. Founded around 1190, this monastery was reformed in 1545, and a year later it was transformed into the school mentioned above. Under the leadership of Michael Neander (1525-1595), the school earned a reputation for scholarship that it has upheld to this day.

See Förstemann, Monumenta rerum Ilfeldensium (Nordhausen, 1843); M. Neander, Bericht vom Kloster Ilfeld, edited by Bouterwek (Göttingen, 1873); and K. Meyer, Geschichte des Klosters Ilfeld (Leipzig, 1897).

See Förstemann, Monumenta rerum Ilfeldensium (Nordhausen, 1843); M. Neander, Bericht vom Kloster Ilfeld, edited by Bouterwek (Göttingen, 1873); and K. Meyer, Geschichte des Klosters Ilfeld (Leipzig, 1897).


ILFORD [Great Ilford], an urban district in the Romford parliamentary division of Essex, England, on the Roding, 7 m. E.N.E. of London by the Great Eastern railway. Pop. (1891) 10,913, (1901) 41,234. A portion of Hainault Forest lies within the parish. The hospital of St Mary and St Thomas, founded in the 12th century as a leper hospital, now contains almshouses and a chapel, and belongs to the marquess of Salisbury, who as “Master” is required to maintain a chaplain and six aged inmates. The chapel appears to be of the date of this foundation. Claybury Hall is a lunatic asylum (1893) of the London County Council. There are large photographic material works and paper mills. Little Ilford is a parish on the opposite (west) side of the Roding. The church of St Mary retains Norman portions, and has a curious monumental brass commemorating a boy in school-going clothes (1517). Pop. (1901) 17,915.

ILFORD [Ilford], an urban district in the Romford parliamentary division of Essex, England, on the Roding, 7 miles E.N.E. of London via the Great Eastern railway. Population (1891) 10,913, (1901) 41,234. A part of Hainault Forest is within the parish. The hospital of St Mary and St Thomas, established in the 12th century as a leper hospital, now includes almshouses and a chapel, and is owned by the Marquess of Salisbury, who, as “Master,” is responsible for maintaining a chaplain and six elderly residents. The chapel seems to date back to this foundation. Claybury Hall is a mental health facility (1893) of the London County Council. There are large photographic material factories and paper mills. Little Ilford is a parish on the opposite (west) side of the Roding. The church of St Mary features Norman elements and has an unusual monumental brass commemorating a boy in school attire (1517). Population (1901) 17,915.


ILFRACOMBE, a seaport and watering-place in the Barnstaple parliamentary division of Devonshire, England, on the Bristol Channel, 225 m. W. by S. of London by the London & South-Western railway. Pop. of urban district (1901) 8557. The picturesque old town, built on the cliffs above its harbour, consists of one street stretching for about a mile through a network of lanes. Behind it rise the terraces of a more modern town, commanding a fine view across the Channel. With its beautiful scenery and temperate climate, Ilfracombe is frequented by visitors both in summer and winter. Grand rugged cliffs line the coast; while, inland, the country is celebrated for the rich colouring of its woods and glens. Wooded heights form a semicircle round the town, which is protected from sea winds by Capstone Hill. Along the inner face of this rock has been cut the Victoria Promenade, a long walk roofed with glass and used for concerts. The restored church of Holy Trinity dates originally from the 12th century. Sea-bathing is insecure, and is confined to a few small coves, approached by tunnels hewn through the rock. The harbour, a natural recess among the cliffs, is sheltered on the east by Hilsborough Head, where there are some alleged Celtic remains; on the west by Lantern Hill, where the ancient chapel of St Nicholas has been transformed into a lighthouse. In summer, passenger steamers run to and from Ilfracombe pier; but the shipping trade generally has declined, though herring fisheries are carried on with success. In the latter part of the 13th century Ilfracombe obtained a grant for holding a fair and market, and in the reign of Edward III. it was a place of such importance as to supply him with six ships and ninety-six men for his armament against Calais. During the Civil War, being garrisoned for the Roundheads, it was in 1644 captured by the Royalists, but in 1646 it fell into the hands of Fairfax.

ILFRACOMBE, is a seaport and popular resort in the Barnstaple parliamentary division of Devon, England, located on the Bristol Channel, 225 miles west by southwest of London by the London & South-Western railway. The population of the urban district was 8,557 in 1901. The charming old town, built on the cliffs above the harbor, consists of a single street that stretches about a mile through a maze of lanes. Behind it, the terraces of a more modern town rise, offering a great view across the Channel. With its stunning scenery and mild climate, Ilfracombe attracts visitors year-round. There are grand, rugged cliffs lining the coast, and the countryside inland is known for the vibrant colors of its woods and valleys. Wooded hills form a semicircle around the town, offering protection from sea winds thanks to Capstone Hill. The Victoria Promenade, a long, glass-roofed walkway used for concerts, has been cut along the inner face of this rock. The restored church of Holy Trinity originally dates back to the 12th century. Sea-bathing can be tricky and is limited to a few small coves, accessible through tunnels carved into the rock. The harbor, a natural indentation among the cliffs, is sheltered on the east by Hilsborough Head, where some supposed Celtic remains can be found, and on the west by Lantern Hill, where the ancient chapel of St Nicholas has been converted into a lighthouse. During the summer, passenger steamers travel to and from Ilfracombe pier; however, the shipping trade has generally declined, although herring fisheries continue to thrive. In the late 13th century, Ilfracombe received a grant to hold a fair and market, and during the reign of Edward III, it was significant enough to provide six ships and ninety-six men for his campaign against Calais. During the Civil War, it was garrisoned for the Roundheads and captured by the Royalists in 1644, but fell back into the hands of Fairfax in 1646.


ILHAVO, a seaport in the district of Aveiro, formerly included in the province of Beira, Portugal, 3 m. S.W. of Aveiro (q.v.), on the lagoon of Aveiro, an inlet of the Atlantic Ocean. Pop. (1900) 12,617. Ilhavo is inhabited chiefly by fishermen, but has a celebrated manufactory of glass and porcelain, the Vista-Alegre, at which the art of glass-cutting has reached a high degree of perfection. Salt is largely exported. Ilhavo is celebrated for the beauty of its women. It is said to have been founded by Greek colonists about 400 B.C., but this tradition is of doubtful validity.

ILHAVO, is a seaport in the Aveiro district, previously part of the Beira province in Portugal, located 3 miles southwest of Aveiro (q.v.), on the Aveiro lagoon, which is an inlet of the Atlantic Ocean. Population (1900) was 12,617. Ilhavo is mainly populated by fishermen but is known for the famous Vista-Alegre glass and porcelain factory, where the craft of glass-cutting has achieved a high level of excellence. A significant amount of salt is exported from here. Ilhavo is also recognized for the beauty of its women. It is believed to have been founded by Greek colonists around 400 BCE, although this claim is uncertain.


ILI, one of the principal rivers of Central Asia, in the Russian province of Semiryechensk. The head-stream, called the Tekez, rises at an altitude of 11,600 ft. E. of Lake Issyk-kul, in 82° 25′ E. and 43° 23′ N., on the W. slopes of mount Kash-katur. At first it flows eastward and north-eastward, until, after emerging from the mountains, it meets the Kungez, and then, assuming the name of Ili, it turns westwards and flows between the Trans-Ili Ala-tau mountains on the south and the Boro-khoro and Talki ranges on the north for about 300 m. to Iliysk. The valley between 79° 30′ and 82° E. is 50 m. wide, and the portion above the town of Kulja (Old Kulja) is fertile and populous, Taranchi villages following each other in rapid succession, and the pastures being well stocked with sheep and cattle and horses. At Iliysk the river turns north-west, and after traversing a region of desert and marsh falls by at least seven mouths into the Balkash Lake, the first bifurcation of the delta taking place about 115 m. up the river. But it is only the southern arm of the delta that permanently carries water. The total length of the river is over 900 m. From Old Kulja to New Kulja the Ili is navigable for at most only two and a half months in the year, and even then considerable difficulty is occasioned by the shoals and sandbanks. From New Kulja to Iliysk (280 m.) navigation is easy when the water is high, and practicable even at its lowest for small boats. At Iliysk there is a ferry on the road from Kopal to Vyernyi. The principal tributaries of the Ili are the Kash, Chilik and Charyn. A vast number of streams flow towards it from the mountains on both sides, but most of them are used up by the irrigation canals and never reach their goal. The wealth of coal in the valley is said to be great, and when the Chinese owned the country they worked gold and silver with profit. Fort Ili or Iliysk, a modern Russian establishment, must not be confounded with Ili, the old capital of the Chinese province of the same name. The latter, otherwise known as Hoi-yuan-chen, New Kulja (Gulja), or Manchu Kulja, was formerly a city of 70,000 inhabitants, but now lies completely deserted. Old Kulja, Tatar Kulja or Nin-yuan, is now the principal town of the district. The Chinese district of Ili formerly included the whole of the valley of the Ili river as far as Issyk-kul, but now only its upper part. Its present area is about 27,000 sq. m. and its population probably 70,000. It belongs administratively to the province of Sin-kiang or East Turkestan. (See Kulja.)

ILI, one of the main rivers in Central Asia, located in the Russian province of Semiryechensk. The main source, known as the Tekez, starts at an elevation of 11,600 ft. east of Lake Issyk-kul, at 82° 25′ E. and 43° 23′ N., on the western slopes of Mount Kash-katur. Initially, it flows east and northeast until it emerges from the mountains, meets the Kungez, and then, taking the name Ili, turns westward, flowing between the Trans-Ili Ala-tau mountains to the south and the Boro-khoro and Talki ranges to the north for about 300 miles to Iliysk. The valley between 79° 30′ and 82° E. is 50 miles wide, and the area above the town of Kulja (Old Kulja) is fertile and densely populated, with Taranchi villages rapidly lining the banks, and the pastures well-stocked with sheep, cattle, and horses. At Iliysk, the river bends northwest, and after crossing a desert and marshy region, it splits into at least seven outlets into Balkash Lake, with the first bifurcation of the delta occurring about 115 miles up the river. However, only the southern branch of the delta consistently carries water. The total length of the river exceeds 900 miles. From Old Kulja to New Kulja, the Ili is navigable for only about two and a half months a year, and even then, there are significant challenges due to shoals and sandbanks. From New Kulja to Iliysk (280 miles), navigation is easy when the water level is high and feasible even at the lowest levels for small boats. At Iliysk, there is a ferry on the route from Kopal to Vyernyi. The main tributaries of the Ili are the Kash, Chilik, and Charyn. Numerous streams flow into it from the mountains on both sides, but most are diverted by irrigation canals and never reach the river. The coal resources in the valley are believed to be substantial, and when the Chinese controlled the area, they profitably mined gold and silver. Fort Ili or Iliysk, a modern Russian establishment, should not be confused with Ili, the ancient capital of the Chinese province bearing the same name. The latter, also known as Hoi-yuan-chen, New Kulja (Gulja), or Manchu Kulja, used to be a city of 70,000 residents but is now entirely deserted. Old Kulja, Tatar Kulja, or Nin-yuan, is now the main town in the district. The Chinese district of Ili once encompassed the entire Ili River valley up to Issyk-kul, but now only includes its upper part. Its current area is about 27,000 square miles, with a population likely around 70,000. It administratively belongs to the province of Sin-kiang or East Turkestan. (See Kulja.)


ILION, a village of Herkimer county, New York, U.S.A., about 12 m. S.E. of Utica, on the S. bank of the Mohawk river. Pop. (1890) 4057; (1900) 5138 (755 foreign-born); (1905, state census) 5924; (1910) 6588. It is served by the New York Central & Hudson river, and the West Shore railways, by the Utica & Mohawk Valley Electric railroad, and by the Erie canal. It has a public library (1868) of about 13,500 volumes, a public hospital and a village hall. The village owns its water-works and its electric-lighting plant. Its principal manufactures are Remington typewriters and Remington fire-arms (notably the Remington rifle); other manufactures are filing cabinets and cases and library and office furniture (the Clark & Baker Co.), knit goods, carriages and harness, and store fixtures. In 1828 Eliphalet Remington (1793-1861) established here a small factory for the manufacture of rifles. He invented, and, with the assistance of his sons, Philo (1816-1889), Samuel and Eliphalet, improved the famous Remington rifle, which was adopted by several European governments, and was supplied in large numbers to the United States army. In 1856 the company added the manufacture of farming tools, in 1870 sewing-machines, 300 and in 1874 typewriters. The last-named industry was sold to the Wyckoff, Seamans & Benedict Company in 1886, and soon afterwards, on the failure of the original Remington company, the fire-arms factory was bought by a New York City firm. A store was established on the present site of Ilion as early as 1816, but the village really dates from the completion of the Erie canal in 1825. On the canal list it was called Steele’s Creek, but it was also known as Morgan’s Landing, and from 1830 to 1843 as Remington’s Corners. The post-office, which was established in 1845, was named Remington, in honour of Eliphalet Remington; but later the present name was adopted. The village was incorporated in 1852. Ilion is a part of the township of German Flats (pop. in 1900, 8663; in 1910, 10,160), settled by Palatinate Germans about 1725. The township was the scene of several Indian raids during the French and Indian War and the War of Independence. Here General Herkimer began his advance to raise the siege of Fort Schuyler (1777), and subsequently Ilion was the rendezvous of Benedict Arnold’s force during the same campaign.

ILION, is a village in Herkimer County, New York, U.S.A., about 12 miles southeast of Utica, located on the southern bank of the Mohawk River. Population: (1890) 4,057; (1900) 5,138 (755 foreign-born); (1905, state census) 5,924; (1910) 6,588. It is served by the New York Central & Hudson River and the West Shore railways, the Utica & Mohawk Valley Electric railroad, and the Erie Canal. The village has a public library (established in 1868) with about 13,500 volumes, a public hospital, and a village hall. The village owns its waterworks and electric lighting plant. Its main products include Remington typewriters and Remington firearms (notably the Remington rifle); other products include filing cabinets, library and office furniture (from the Clark & Baker Co.), knit goods, carriages and harness, and store fixtures. In 1828, Eliphalet Remington (1793-1861) set up a small factory here to make rifles. He invented and, with the help of his sons, Philo (1816-1889), Samuel, and Eliphalet, improved the famous Remington rifle, which was adopted by several European governments and supplied in large quantities to the U.S. Army. In 1856, the company began making farming tools, added sewing machines in 1870, and typewriters in 1874. The typewriter division was sold to the Wyckoff, Seamans & Benedict Company in 1886, and shortly afterward, following the failure of the original Remington company, the firearms factory was purchased by a firm from New York City. A store was established at what is now Ilion as early as 1816, but the village officially began with the completion of the Erie Canal in 1825. On the canal list, it was called Steele’s Creek, but it was also known as Morgan’s Landing, and from 1830 to 1843 as Remington’s Corners. The post office, established in 1845, was named Remington in honor of Eliphalet Remington; however, the current name was adopted later. The village was incorporated in 1852. Ilion is part of the township of German Flats (population in 1900 was 8,663; in 1910, 10,160), settled by Palatinate Germans around 1725. The township was the site of several Indian raids during the French and Indian War and the War of Independence. Here, General Herkimer began his advance to lift the siege of Fort Schuyler (1777), and later, Ilion was the meeting place for Benedict Arnold’s forces during the same campaign.


ILKESTON, a market town and municipal borough, in the Ilkeston parliamentary division of Derbyshire, England, 9 m. E.N.E. of Derby, on the Midland and the Great Northern railways. Pop. (1891) 19,744, (1901) 25,384. It is situated on a hill commanding fine views of the Erewash valley. The church of St Mary is Norman and Early English, and has a fine chancel screen dating from the later part of the 13th century. The manufactures of the town are principally hosiery and lace, and various kinds of stoneware. Coal and iron are wrought in the neighbourhood. An alkaline mineral spring, resembling the seltzer water of Germany, was discovered in 1830, and baths were then erected, which, however, were subsequently closed. The town, which is very ancient, being mentioned in Domesday, obtained a grant for a market and fair in 1251, and received its charter of incorporation in 1887. It is governed by a mayor, 6 aldermen and 18 councillors. Area, 2526 acres.

ILKESTON, is a market town and municipal borough located in the Ilkeston parliamentary division of Derbyshire, England, 9 miles E.N.E. of Derby, on the Midland and Great Northern railways. The population was 19,744 in 1891 and 25,384 in 1901. It sits on a hill that offers beautiful views of the Erewash Valley. The church of St Mary features Norman and Early English architecture, including a stunning chancel screen from the late 13th century. The town primarily manufactures hosiery and lace, along with various types of stoneware. Coal and iron are processed in the area. An alkaline mineral spring, similar to German seltzer water, was discovered in 1830, leading to the construction of baths that were later closed. This ancient town, mentioned in the Domesday Book, received a grant for a market and fair in 1251 and gained its charter of incorporation in 1887. It is governed by a mayor, 6 aldermen, and 18 councillors. The area covers 2,526 acres.


ILKLEY, an urban district in the Otley parliamentary division of the West Riding of Yorkshire, England, 16 m. N.W. from Leeds, on the Midland and the North-Eastern railways. Pop. of urban district (1901) 7455. It is beautifully situated in the upper part of the valley of the Wharfe, and owing to the fine scenery of the neighbourhood, and to the bracing air of the high moorlands above the valley, has become a favourite health resort. Here and at Ben Rhydding, 1 m. E., are several hydropathic establishments. The church of All Saints is in the main Decorated, largely restored in 1860. Three ancient sculptured crosses are preserved in the churchyard. The institutions include a museum of local antiquities, a grammar school, the Siemens Convalescent Home and the Ilkley Bath Charitable Institution. The fine remains of Bolton Abbey lie in the Wharfe valley, 5 m. above Ilkley. Ilkley has been identified with the Olicana of Ptolemy, one of the towns of the British tribe of the Brigantes. There was a Roman fort near the present church of All Saints, and the site has yielded inscriptions and other small remains. Numerous relics are preserved in the museum.

ILKLEY, is an urban district in the Otley parliamentary division of the West Riding of Yorkshire, England, located 16 miles northwest of Leeds, accessible via the Midland and North-Eastern railways. The urban district had a population of 7,455 in 1901. It is beautifully positioned in the upper part of the Wharfe valley and, thanks to the stunning scenery in the area and the refreshing air from the high moorlands above, it has become a popular health resort. Along with Ben Rhydding, which is 1 mile east, there are several hydropathic establishments. The church of All Saints features a primarily Decorated style, with significant restorations completed in 1860. Three ancient sculptured crosses are preserved in the churchyard. Local institutions include a museum of antiquities, a grammar school, the Siemens Convalescent Home, and the Ilkley Bath Charitable Institution. The impressive remains of Bolton Abbey are found in the Wharfe valley, 5 miles above Ilkley. Ilkley has been identified as the Olicana mentioned by Ptolemy, one of the towns of the British tribe known as the Brigantes. There was a Roman fort near the current site of All Saints church, and this location has produced inscriptions and various small artifacts. Many relics are displayed in the museum.


ILL, a river of Germany, entirely within the imperial territory of Alsace-Lorraine. It rises on a north foothill of the Jura, S.W. of Basel, and flows N.N.E. parallel with the Rhine, which it enters from the left, 9 m. below Strassburg. Its course lies for the most part through low meadowland; and the stream, which is 123 m. long, receives numerous small affluents, which pour out of the short narrow valleys of the Vosges. It is navigable from Ladhof near Colmar to its confluence with the Rhine, a distance of 59 m. It is on this river, and not on the Rhine, that the principal towns of Upper Alsace are situated, e.g. Mülhausen, Colmarl, Schlettstadt and Strassburg. The Ill feeds two important canals, the Rhine-Marne canal and the Rhine-Rhone canal, both starting from the neighbourhood of Strassburg.

ILL is a river in Germany, entirely within the imperial territory of Alsace-Lorraine. It starts on the northern foothill of the Jura, southwest of Basel, and flows north-northeast, running parallel to the Rhine, which it joins from the left, 9 miles below Strasbourg. Its path mostly goes through low meadowlands, and the stream is 123 meters long, receiving many small tributaries that come from the short, narrow valleys of the Vosges. It is navigable from Ladhof near Colmar to where it meets the Rhine, a distance of 59 miles. The main towns of Upper Alsace, such as Mulhouse, Colmar, Schlettstadt, and Strasbourg, are located along this river rather than the Rhine. The Ill also feeds two important canals, the Rhine-Marne canal and the Rhine-Rhone canal, both starting near Strasbourg.


ILLAWARRA, a beautiful and fertile district of New South Wales, Australia, extending from a point 33 m. S. of Sydney, along the coast southwards for 40 m. to Shoalhaven. It is thickly populated, and supplies Sydney with the greater part of its dairy produce. There are also numerous collieries, producing coal of superior quality, and iron ore, fireclay and freestone are plentiful. The Illawarra Lake, a salt lagoon, 9 m. long and 3 m. wide, is encircled by hills and is connected with the sea by a narrow channel; quantities of fish are caught in it and wild fowl are abundant along its shores. The chief towns in the district are Wollongong, Kiama, Clifton and Shellharbour.

ILLAWARRA, is a beautiful and fertile region in New South Wales, Australia, stretching from a point 33 miles south of Sydney, along the coast for 40 miles down to Shoalhaven. It has a dense population and provides Sydney with most of its dairy products. There are also many coal mines producing high-quality coal, and iron ore, fireclay, and freestone are abundant. Illawarra Lake, a saltwater lagoon that is 9 miles long and 3 miles wide, is surrounded by hills and linked to the ocean by a narrow channel; large amounts of fish are caught there, and wild birds are plentiful along its shores. The main towns in the area are Wollongong, Kiama, Clifton, and Shellharbour.


ILLE-ET-VILAINE, a maritime department of north-western France, formed in 1790 out of the eastern part of the old province of Brittany. Pop. (1906) 611,805. Area 2699 sq. m. It is bounded N. by the English Channel, the Bay of St Michel and the department of Manche; E. by Mayenne; S. by Loire-Inférieure; and W. by Morbihan and Côtes-du-Nord. The territory of Ille-et-Vilaine constitutes a depression bordered by hills which reach their maximum altitudes (over 800 ft.) in the N.E. and W. of the department. The centre of this depression, which separates the hills of Brittany from those of Normandy, is occupied by Rennes, capital of the department and an important junction of roads, rivers and railways. The department takes its name from its two principal rivers, the Ille and the Vilaine. The former joins the Vilaine at Rennes after a course of 18 m. through the centre of the department; and the latter, which rises in Mayenne, flows westwards as far as Rennes, where it turns abruptly south. The stream is tidal up to the port of Redon, and is navigable for barges as far as Rennes. The Vilaine receives the Meu and the Seiche, which are both navigable. There are two other navigable streams, the Airon and the Rance, the long estuary of which falls almost entirely within the department. The Ille-et-Rance canal connects the town of Rennes with those of Dinan and St Malo. The greater portion of the shore of the Bay of St Michel is covered by the Marsh of Dol, valuable agricultural land, which is protected from the inroads of the sea by dykes. Towards the open channel the coast is rocky. Small lakes are frequent in the interior of the department. The climate is temperate, humid and free from sudden changes. The south-west winds, while they keep the temperature mild, also bring frequent showers, and in spring and autumn thick fogs prevail. The soil is thin and not very fertile, but has been improved by the use of artificial manure. Cereals of all kinds are grown, but the principal are wheat, buckwheat, oats and barley. Potatoes, early vegetables, flax and hemp are also largely grown, and tobacco is cultivated in the arrondissement of St Malo. Apples and pears are the principal fruit, and the cider of the canton of Dol has a high reputation. Cheese is made in considerable quantities, and the butter of Rennes is amongst the best in France. Large numbers of horses and cattle are raised. Mines of iron, lead and zinc (Pont-Péan) and quarries of slate, granite, &c., are worked. There are flour and saw-mills, brick works, boat-building yards, iron and copper foundries and forges, dyeworks, and a widespread tanning industry. Sail-cloth, rope, pottery, boots and shoes (Fougères), edge-tools, nails, farming implements, paper and furniture are also among the products of the department. The chief ports are St Malo and St Servan. Fishing is very active on the coast, and St Malo, St Servan and Cancale equip fleets for the Newfoundland cod-banks. There are also important oyster-fisheries in the Bay of St Michel, especially at Cancale. The little town of Dinard is well known as a fashionable bathing-resort. Exports include agricultural products, butter, mine-posts and dried fish; imports, live-stock, coal, timber, building materials and American wheat. The department is served by the Western railway, and has over 130 m. of navigable waterway. The population is of less distinctively Celtic origin than the Bretons of Western Brittany, between whom and the Normans and Angevins it forms a transitional group. Ille-et-Vilaine is divided into the arrondissements of Fougères, St Malo, Montfort-sur-Meu, Redon, Rennes and Vitré, with 43 cantons and 360 communes. The chief town is Rennes, which is the seat of an archbishop and of a court of appeal, headquarters of the X. army corps, and the centre of an académie (educational division).

ILLE-ET-VILAINE, is a coastal department in northwestern France, created in 1790 from the eastern part of the former province of Brittany. Population (1906) 611,805. Area 2,699 sq. mi. It is bordered to the north by the English Channel, the Bay of St. Michel, and the department of Manche; to the east by Mayenne; to the south by Loire-Inférieure; and to the west by Morbihan and Côtes-du-Nord. The land of Ille-et-Vilaine forms a low area surrounded by hills that reach their highest points (over 800 ft.) in the northeast and west of the department. The center of this lowland, which separates the Brittany hills from those of Normandy, is home to Rennes, the capital of the department and a key junction for roads, rivers, and railways. The department gets its name from its two main rivers, the Ille and the Vilaine. The Ille flows into the Vilaine at Rennes after traveling 18 miles through the center of the department; the Vilaine, which originates in Mayenne, flows westward to Rennes, where it sharply turns south. The river is tidal up to the port of Redon and navigable for barges up to Rennes. The Vilaine also receives the Meu and Seiche rivers, which are both navigable. There are two more navigable rivers, the Airon and the Rance, with most of the Rance's long estuary lying within the department. The Ille-et-Rance canal connects Rennes to the towns of Dinan and St. Malo. Much of the Bay of St. Michel's shoreline is covered by the Marsh of Dol, which is valuable farmland protected from the sea by dikes. Toward the open channel, the coast is rocky. Small lakes are common in the interior of the department. The climate is mild, humid, and stable. The southwest winds help maintain a mild temperature but also bring frequent rain, with thick fogs common in spring and autumn. The soil is thin and not very fertile but has improved with the use of fertilizer. A variety of cereals are grown, with the main ones being wheat, buckwheat, oats, and barley. Potatoes, early vegetables, flax, and hemp are also widely cultivated, and tobacco is grown in the St. Malo district. Apples and pears are the primary fruits, and the cider from the Dol region is highly regarded. Cheese is produced in large quantities, and Rennes butter is among the best in France. Many horses and cattle are raised. Iron, lead, and zinc mines (Pont-Péan) and slate and granite quarries are actively worked. There are flour and sawmills, brick factories, boat-building shops, iron and copper foundries and forges, dye works, and a widespread tanning industry. The department also produces sailcloth, rope, pottery, boots and shoes (Fougères), edge tools, nails, farming equipment, paper, and furniture. The main ports are St. Malo and St. Servan. Fishing is very active along the coast, and St. Malo, St. Servan, and Cancale operate fleets for the Newfoundland cod fishery. There are also significant oyster fisheries in the Bay of St. Michel, especially at Cancale. The small town of Dinard is well-known as a popular seaside resort. Exports include agricultural products, butter, mine posts, and dried fish; imports consist of livestock, coal, timber, building materials, and American wheat. The department is serviced by the Western railway and has over 130 miles of navigable waterways. The population is less distinctly Celtic than that of the Bretons in Western Brittany, forming a transitional group between them and the Normans and Angevins. Ille-et-Vilaine is divided into the districts of Fougères, St. Malo, Montfort-sur-Meu, Redon, Rennes, and Vitré, with 43 cantons and 360 communes. The main town is Rennes, which is the seat of an archbishop and a court of appeal, the headquarters of the X army corps, and the center of an académie (educational division).

In addition to the capital, Fougères, St Malo, St Servan, 301 Redon, Vitré, Dol, Dinard and Cancale are the towns of chief importance and are separately noticed. At Combourg there is a picturesque château of the 14th and 15th centuries where Chateaubriand passed a portion of his early life. St Aubin-du-Cormier has the ruins of an important feudal fortress of the 13th century built by the dukes of Brittany for the protection of their eastern frontier. Montfort-sur-Meu has a cylindrical keep of the 15th century which is a survival of its old ramparts.

In addition to the capital, Fougères, St. Malo, St. Servan, 301 Redon, Vitré, Dol, Dinard, and Cancale are the main towns and are mentioned separately. At Combourg, there's a picturesque château from the 14th and 15th centuries where Chateaubriand spent part of his early life. St. Aubin-du-Cormier has the ruins of a significant feudal fortress from the 13th century built by the dukes of Brittany to protect their eastern border. Montfort-sur-Meu features a cylindrical keep from the 15th century, which is part of its old ramparts.


ILLEGITIMACY (from “illegitimate,” Lat. illegitimus, not in accordance with law, hence born out of lawful wedlock), the state of being of illegitimate birth. The law dealing with the legitimation of children born out of wedlock will be found under Legitimacy and Legitimation. How far the prevalence of illegitimacy in any community can be taken as a guide to the morality of that community is a much disputed question. The phenomenon itself varies so much in different localities, even in localities where the same factors seem to prevail, that affirmative conclusions are for the most part impossible to draw. In the United Kingdom, where the figures differ considerably for the three countries—England, Scotland, Ireland—the reasons that might be assigned for the differences are negatived if applied on the same lines, as they might well be, to certain other countries. Then again, racial, climatic and social differences must be allowed for, and the influence of legislation is to be taken into account. The fact that in some countries marriage is forbidden until a man has completed his military service, in another, that consent of parents is requisite, in another, that “once a bastard always a bastard” is the rule, while in yet another that the merest of subsequent formalities will legitimize the offspring, must account in some degree for variations in figures.

ILLEGITIMACY (from “illegitimate,” Lat. illegitimus, not in accordance with law, hence born out of lawful wedlock), refers to the state of being born outside of marriage. The laws regarding the legitimation of children born out of wedlock can be found under Legitimacy and Legitimation. Whether the prevalence of illegitimacy in a community reflects its morality is a highly debated issue. This phenomenon varies significantly across different areas, even where similar factors are present, making it difficult to draw definitive conclusions. In the United Kingdom, the statistics vary widely among the three countries—England, Scotland, and Ireland—and the reasons for these differences do not hold up when applied consistently to other countries. Additionally, racial, climatic, and social differences must be considered, along with the impact of legislation. The fact that marriage might be prohibited until a man completes military service in some countries, or that parental consent is required in others, or that the belief “once a bastard always a bastard” exists, while in yet others, minimal subsequent formalities can legitimize a child, all contribute to variations in the data.

Table I.Illegitimate Births per 1000 Births (excluding still-born).

Table 1.Illegitimate Births per 1000 Births (excluding stillborn).

  1876-1880. 1881-1885. 1886-1890. 1891-1895. 1896-1900. 1901-1905.
England and Wales 48 48 46 42 41 40
Scotland 85 83 81 74 68 64
Ireland 24 27 28 36 36 26
Denmark 101 100 95 94 96 101
Norway 84 81 75 71 74 ..
Sweden 100 102 103 105 113 ..
Finland 73 70 65 65 66 ..
Russia 28 27 27 27 27 ..
Austria 138 145 147 146 141 ..
Hungary 73 79 82 85 90 94
Switzerland 47 48 47 46 45 ..
Germany 87 92 92 91 90 84
Netherlands 31 30 32 31 27 23
Belgium 74 82 87 88 80 68
France 72 78 83 87 88 88
Portugal .. .. 123 122 121 ..
Spain .. .. .. .. 49 44
Italy 72 76 74 69 62 56
New South Wales 42 44 49 60 69 70
Victoria 43 46 49 60 69 70
Queensland 39 41 44 48 59 65
South Australia .. 22 25 30 38 41
West Australia .. .. .. 48 51 42
Tasmania .. 44 38 46 57 ..
New Zealand 23 29 32 38 44 45

Table I. gives the number of illegitimate births per 1000 births in various countries of the world for quinquennial periods. It is to be noted that still-born births are excluded, as in the United Kingdom (contrary to the practice prevailing in most European countries) registration of such births is not compulsory. The United States is omitted, as there is no national system of registration of births.

Table I. provides the number of illegitimate births per 1,000 births in different countries around the world for five-year periods. It's important to note that stillborn births are excluded, as in the United Kingdom (unlike the practice in most European countries) registration of these births is not mandatory. The United States is not included, as there is no national birth registration system.

This method of measuring illegitimacy by ascertaining the proportion of illegitimate births in every thousand births is a fairly accurate one, but there is another valuable one which is often applied, that of comparing the number of illegitimate births with each thousand unmarried females at the child-bearing age the “corrected” rate as opposed to the “crude,” as it is usually termed. This is given for certain countries in Table II.

This way of measuring illegitimacy by looking at the number of illegitimate births per thousand total births is pretty accurate, but there's another useful method that is often used. It compares the number of illegitimate births to every thousand unmarried females of child-bearing age, referred to as the “corrected” rate, as opposed to the “crude” rate, which is the more common term. This information is provided for certain countries in Table II.

Table II.Illegitimate Births to 1000 Unmarried and Widowed Females, aged 15-49 years.

Table 2.Illegitimate Births per 1000 Unmarried and Widowed Women, aged 15-49 years.

Country. 1846-55. 1856-65. 1866-75. 1876-85. 1886-95. 1896-1905.
England and Wales 17 18 16 13 10  8
Scotland .. 22 23 20 17 13
Ireland .. ..  5  4  5  3
Denmark .. 28 27 26 24 23
Sweden 20 22 23 22 22 ..
Germany .. .. .. 28 27 26
Netherlands .. .. 10  9  9  6
Belgium 16 16 17 19 17 17
France 15 17 17 16 17 18
Italy .. .. .. 24 24 19

The generally accepted idea that the inhabitants of the warmer countries of the south of Europe are more ardent in temperament has at least no support as shown in the figures in Table I., where we find a higher rate of illegitimacy in Sweden and Denmark than in Spain or Italy. Religion, however, must be taken into account as having a strong influence in preventing unchastity, though it cannot be concluded that any particular creed is more powerful in this direction than another; for example, the figures for Austria and Ireland are very different. It cannot be said, either, that figures bear out the statement that where there is a high rate of illegitimacy there is little prostitution. It is more probable that in a country where the standard of living is low, and early marriages are the rule, the illegitimate birth-rate will be low. As regards England and Wales, the illegitimate birth-rate has been steadily declining for many years, not only in actual numbers, but also in proportion to the population.

The accepted belief that people in the warmer southern countries of Europe are more passionate isn’t supported by the data in Table I., which shows a higher rate of illegitimacy in Sweden and Denmark compared to Spain or Italy. Religion plays a significant role in discouraging promiscuity, although it’s hard to say that any specific belief system is more effective than others; for instance, the statistics for Austria and Ireland vary widely. It also can’t be claimed that where there is a high rate of illegitimacy, there is little prostitution. It’s more likely that in a country with a low standard of living and where early marriages are common, the rate of illegitimate births will be low. In England and Wales, the rate of illegitimate births has been steadily decreasing for many years, both in absolute numbers and as a proportion of the population.

Table III.England and Wales.

Table III.England & Wales.

Year. Illegitimate
Births.
Proportion
to 1000 of
population.
Illegitimate
Births in
1000 Births.
1860 43,693 2.2 64
1865 46,585 2.2 62
1870 44,737 2.0 56
1875 40,813 1.7 48
1880 42,542 1.6 48
1885 42,793 1.6 48
1890 38,412 1.3 44
1895 38,836 1.3 42
1900 36,814 1.1 40
1905 37,515 1.1 40
1907 36,189 1.0 39

The corrected rate bears out the result shown in Table III as follows:

The corrected rate confirms the result shown in Table III as follows:

Table IV.England and Wales. Illegitimate Birth-rate calculated on the Unmarried and Widowed Female Population, aged 15-45 years.

Table 4.England and Wales. Illegitimate Birth Rate calculated based on the Unmarried and Widowed Female Population, aged 15-45 years.

  Rate per 1000. Compared with
rate in 1876-1880,
taken as 100.
1876-1880 14.4 100.0
1881-1885 13.5 93.8
1886-1890 11.8 81.9
1891-1895 10.1 70.1
1896-1900  9.2 63.9
1901-1905  8.4 58.3
1906  8.1 56.3
1907  7.8 54.2

302

302

Table V.England and Wales. Illegitimate Births to 1000 Births.

Table V.England and Wales. Illegitimate Births per 1000 Births.

  Ten
years
1897-
1906.
1907.   Ten
years
1897-
1906.
1907.   Ten
years
1897-
1906.
1907.
Bedford 49 53 Leicestershire 40 39 Wilts 41 42
Berks 47 48 Lincolnshire 55 54 Worcester 37 38
Bucks 40 44 London 37 38 Yorks—    
Cambridge 48 53 Middlesex 30 28   E. Riding 52 49
Chester 41 39 Monmouth 29 27   N.  ” 53 45
Cornwall 50 48 Norfolk 62 65   W.  ” 43 41
Cumberland 61 58 Northampton 41 42      
Derby 41 41 Northumberland 39 38 Anglesey 81 75
Devon 39 39 Nottingham 50 49 Brecon 44 40
Dorset 40 37 Oxford 53 56 Cardigan 64 61
Durham 34 37 Rutland 46 70 Carmarthen 37 41
Essex 28 27 Shropshire 64 61 Carnarvon 60 72
Gloucester 36 36 Somerset 37 35 Denbigh 49 47
Hants 40 36 Stafford 40 38 Flint 42 42
Hereford 66 66 Suffolk 56 62 Glamorgan 26 26
Hertford 40 42 Surrey 38 37 Merioneth 71 77
Huntingdon 49 46 Sussex 52 52 Montgomery 76 73
Kent 40 41 Warwick 32 30 Pembroke 52 47
Lancashire 38 37 Westmorland 61 62 Radnor 66 67

Table VI.Annual Illegitimate Birth-rates in each Registration County of England and Wales, 1970-1907.

Table 6.Annual Illegitimate Birth Rates in Each Registration County of England and Wales, 1970-1907.

Registration
Counties.
Illegitimate Births to 1000 Unmarried and Widowed Females
aged 15-45 years.
Decrease per cent
in each County
between the period
1870-1872
and 1907.
Three-year Periods. Years.
1870-1872. 1880-1882. 1890-1892. 1900-1902. 1903-1905. 1906. 1907.
England and Wales 17.0 14.1 10.5 8.5 8.3 8.1 7.8 54.1
London 10.3 9.8 8.1 6.9 6.9 6.8 6.4 37.9
Bedford 21.1 18.0 11.2 8.4 8.0 8.2 8.7 58.8
Berks 16.8 13.4 10.3 8.7 8.6 8.1 8.4 50.0
Bucks 19.0 16.5 12.6 9.1 8.9 7.3 8.8 53.7
Cambridge 19.3 15.6 12.4 9.6 10.1 9.7 10.4 46.1
Chester 17.5 14.2 10.3 7.7 7.3 7.2 6.9 60.6
Cornwall 16.5 14.8 11.2 8.6 8.1 7.5 7.5 54.5
Cumberland 29.2 23.9 18.6 12.3 12.3 12.3 11.0 62.3
Derby 22.5 17.7 12.8 10.0 10.0 10.0 9.4 58.2
Devon 14.0 10.6 8.1 6.7 6.5 6.7 6.1 56.4
Dorset 14.2 13.1 9.6 7.2 7.2 8.1 6.4 54.9
Durham 24.0 18.0 13.8 11.1 11.1 10.8 11.6 51.7
Essex 16.2 12.7 9.1 7.3 7.1 6.7 6.4 60.5
Gloucester 12.9 11.6 8.2 6.3 6.1 6.8 5.8 55.0
Hants 13.6 11.8 8.5 7.3 7.1 6.9 6.4 52.9
Hereford 21.4 19.0 13.4 11.2 11.5 10.3 11.0 48.6
Hertford 18.4 15.3 10.4 7.0 7.2 6.6 7.5 59.2
Huntingdon 19.8 14.0 12.9 10.9 9.7 9.7 9.7 51.0
Kent 14.7 12.1 9.3 7.5 7.6 7.5 7.2 51.0
Lancashire 16.2 13.6 10.2 7.9 7.8 7.5 7.2 55.6
Leicestershire 19.9 16.1 11.4 8.6 7.9 7.5 7.3 63.3
Lincolnshire 22.3 18.5 14.2 12.2 12.1 12.7 11.9 46.6
Middlesex 9.4 9.4 6.5 5.9 6.0 6.1 5.7 39.4
Monmouth 18.6 15.9 11.3 10.2 9.1 9.6 9.3 50.0
Norfolk 27.3 22.6 16.7 13.4 13.4 12.5 12.8 53.1
Northampton 18.7 15.9 11.7 9.1 8.8 9.0 7.7 58.8
Northumberland 21.1 17.9 12.4 10.2 10.0 10.4 9.3 55.9
Nottingham 24.5 21.7 15.4 13.7 12.6 12.0 11.9 51.4
Oxford 19.0 15.4 10.4 9.0 9.1 9.3 9.2 51.6
Rutland 18.1 12.7 7.9 7.2 6.8 9.0 11.4 37.0
Salop 28.2 21.8 16.6 12.8 13.4 13.0 11.8 58.2
Somerset 13.3 11.3 7.4 6.0 6.0 5.4 5.5 58.6
Stafford 24.6 19.4 14.5 11.2 11.4 10.9 10.1 58.9
Suffolk 22.0 17.8 14.0 12.0 11.7 12.4 12.5 43.2
Surrey 9.5 8.5 6.6 5.9 5.7 5.9 5.7 40.0
Sussex 13.7 11.5 8.7 7.2 7.0 6.5 6.4 53.3
Warwick 14.9 13.2 9.7 7.6 7.5 6.6 6.8 54.4
Westmorland 21.9 17.9 13.1 8.6 9.1 8.5 7.8 64.4
Wilts 17.1 14.7 10.3 9.2 8.7 8.6 9.3 45.6
Worcester 16.3 13.7 9.2 7.2 6.8 6.6 6.6 59.5
Yorks—                
  E. Riding 23.0 18.2 14.3 12.2 11.7 12.2 10.6 53.9
  N. Riding 27.7 20.2 15.4 12.1 11.6 11.9 10.2 63.2
  W. Riding 20.4 16.1 11.4 9.4 9.2 8.8 8.1 60.3
Anglesey 19.7 16.7 15.7 16.1 14.9 13.3 12.9 34.5
Brecon 19.9 18.0 12.5 10.1 9.2 9.2 8.3 58.3
Cardigan 16.0 14.8 11.8 8.9 7.8 6.3 7.3 54.4
Carmarthen 18.2 13.9 9.4 7.7 8.2 7.7 8.9 51.1
Carnarvon 18.3 13.9 12.7 10.3 9.6 9.4 10.5 42.6
Denbigh 21.1 17.6 13.4 12.3 11.6 13.5 10.3 51.2
Flint 18.7 18.4 13.1 9.7 11.2 11.9 11.0 41.2
Glamorgan 17.7 13.5 10.3 8.5 9.1 8.9 8.4 52.5
Merioneth 24.4 19.5 16.4 13.5 13.4 13.2 12.7 48.0
Montgomery 29.5 24.3 16.7 13.1 13.4 12.6 11.7 60.3
Pembroke 21.6 15.9 12.4 8.9 10.2 10.7 8.4 61.1
Radnor 41.8 33.2 20.1 14.4 13.4 8.3 11.3 73.0

303

303

Table VII.Rate of Illegitimacy per 1000 Births.

Table 7.Rate of Illegitimacy per 1000 Births.

Belfast 31 Liverpool 54
Birmingham 35 Manchester 28
Bradford 40 Middlesboro’ 25
Bristol 31 Newcastle 36
Cork 18 Nottingham 60
Dublin 28 Portsmouth 33
Edinburgh 69 Salford 28
Glasgow 63 Sunderland 30
Leeds 54    

Table VIII.Scotland 1906.

Table VIII.Scotland 1906.

Total
Births.
Legitimate. Illegitimate. Births per
1000 of pop.
Percentage of
Illegitimate to
Total Births.
132,005 122,699 9306 27.93 7.05
  Illegitimate
Births.
Percentage of
Illegitimate to
Total Births.
  Illegitimate
Births.
Percentage of
Illegitimate to
Total Births.
1860  9,736 9.22 1895 9,204 7.28
1865 11,262 9.96 1900 8,534 6.49
1870 11,108 9.63 1901 8,359 6.32
1875 10,786 8.73 1902 8,300 6.28
1880 10,589 8.50 1903 8,295 6.21
1885 10,680 8.47 1904 9,010 6.79
1890  9,241 7.60 1905 9,082 6.91
      1906 9,306 7.05

Table IX.Scotland 1906.

Table IX.Scotland 1906.

  Illegitimate
Births
Illegitimate Births
per 1000 of Unmarried
Women and Widows
between 15 and 45.
No. Per 1000
of Pop.
Districts:      
  Principal Town 4318  7.14  
  Large Town 1029  5.58  
  Small Town 1724  6.23  
  Mainland-rural 2099  9.08  
  Insular-rural 136  5.88  
Shetland 31  5.30  7.0
Orkney 29  5.99  7.7
Caithness 84  9.96 19.4
Sutherland 28  6.81 10.1
Ross and Cromarty 74  4.40  6.9
Inverness 145  8.02 11.5
Nairn 18 10.29 13.2
Elgin (or Moray) 169 15.66 26.3
Banff 202 12.93 25.4
Aberdeen 1083 12.38 24.2
Kincardine 93  8.15 17.0
Forfar 676  9.43 14.2
Perth 215  7.93 10.8
Fife 308  4.56  9.7
Kinross 20  9.95 22.2
Clackmannan 53  6.69 10.9
Stirling 235  4.91 13.2
Dumbarton 163  4.14  9.7
Argyll 148 10.07 12.7
Bute 30  8.36  9.2
Renfrew 410  4.46  8.5
Ayr 499  6.23 14.3
Lanark 2872  6.28 15.9
Linlithgow 99  3.88 15.4
Edinburgh 930  7.23 11.0
Haddington 66  5.92 11.8
Berwick 60  9.63 12.7
Peebles 21  6.18  7.9
Selkirk 46  9.13 11.5
Roxburgh 83  8.67  9.8
Dumfries 218 12.51 19.9
Kirkcudbright 92 10.71 15.7
Wigtoun 106 12.79 22.5
  Scotland 9306  7.05 14.1

Table V. gives the illegitimate births to 1000 births in England and Wales for the ten years 1897-1906 and for the year 1907. Table VI. gives the “corrected” rate for certain three-year periods. In connexion with these tables the following extract from the Registrar-General’s Report for 1907 (p. xxx.) is important.

Table V. shows the number of illegitimate births per 1000 births in England and Wales for the ten years from 1897 to 1906 and for the year 1907. Table VI. presents the “corrected” rate for specific three-year periods. In relation to these tables, the following excerpt from the Registrar-General’s Report for 1907 (p. xxx.) is significant.

“It is difficult to explain the variations in the rates of illegitimacy in the several counties. It may be stated generally that the proportion of illegitimate children cannot alone serve as a standard of morality. Broadly speaking, however, the single and widowed women in London, in the counties south of the Thames, and in the south-western counties have comparatively few illegitimate children; on the other hand, the number of illegitimate children is comparatively high in Shropshire, in Herefordshire, in Staffordshire, in Nottinghamshire, in Cumberland, in North Wales, and also in nearly all the counties on the eastern seaboard, viz. Suffolk, Norfolk, Lincolnshire, the East and North Ridings of Yorkshire, and Durham. In the Registrar-General’s Report for the year 1851 it was assumed that there was an indirect connexion between female illiteracy and illegitimacy. This may have been the case in the middle of the last century, but there is no conclusive evidence that such is the case at the present day. The proportions of illegitimacy and the proportions of married women who signed the marriage register by mark are relatively high in Staffordshire, in North Wales, in Durham and in the North Riding of Yorkshire; on the other hand, in Norfolk, in Suffolk and in Lincolnshire there is a comparatively high proportion of illegitimacy and a low proportion of illiteracy.”

“It’s hard to explain the differences in illegitimacy rates across various counties. Generally speaking, the number of illegitimate children can’t solely be used as a measure of morality. However, single and widowed women in London, the counties south of the Thames, and the southwestern counties tend to have relatively few illegitimate children. In contrast, the number of illegitimate children is notably high in Shropshire, Herefordshire, Staffordshire, Nottinghamshire, Cumberland, North Wales, and almost all the counties along the eastern coast, such as Suffolk, Norfolk, Lincolnshire, the East and North Ridings of Yorkshire, and Durham. In the Registrar-General’s Report for 1851, it was suggested that there might be a connection between female illiteracy and illegitimacy. That may have been true in the mid-19th century, but there's no strong evidence to support that today. The rates of illegitimacy and the number of married women who signed the marriage register with a mark are relatively high in Staffordshire, North Wales, Durham, and the North Riding of Yorkshire; meanwhile, in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Lincolnshire, there’s a higher rate of illegitimacy but a lower rate of illiteracy.”

Table X.Ireland. Proportion per cent of Illegitimate Births.

Table X.Ireland. Percentage of Illegitimate Births.

  1903. 1904. 1905. 1906. 1907.
Ireland 2.6 2.5 2.6 2.6 2.5
Leinster 2.6 2.6 2.7 2.7 2.7
Munster 2.3 2.2 2.3 2.2 2.1
Ulster 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.5 3.3
Connaught 0.5 0.7 0.7 0.7 0.6

Table XI.Ireland 1907.

Table XI.Ireland 1907.

County. No. of
Illegitimate
Births.
Per cent of
Total Births.
Leinster—    
  Carlow  27 3.56
  Dublin  34 1.15
  Dublin Co. Borough 314 3.29
  Kildare  22 1.46
  Kilkenny  54 3.29
  King’s 24 2.07
  Longford  11 1.23
  Louth  27 2.01
  Meath  30 2.27
  Queen’s 18 1.70
  Westmeath  19 1.57
  Wexford  89 4.11
  Wicklow  37 2.91
Munster—    
  Clare  23 1.04
  Cork Co. and Co. Borough 151 1.69
  Kerry  51 1.34
  Limerick Co. and Co. Borough 107 3.14
  Tipperary N.R.  19 1.49
  Tipperary S.R.  66 3.32
  Waterford Co. and Co. Borough  68 3.69
Ulster—    
  Antrim 230 5.08
  Armagh  99 3.49
  Belfast Co. Borough 355 3.13
  Cavan  27 1.54
  Donegal  54 1.36
  Fermanagh  41 3.15
  Londonderry Co. and Borough 145 4.35
  Monaghan  24 1.55
  Tyrone 116 3.80
Connaught—    
  Galway  32  .80
  Leitrim  10  .77
  Mayo  21  .45
  Roscommon  9  .50
  Sligo  9  .52
  Leinster  716 2.67
  Munster  495 2.11
  Ulster 1272 3.32
  Connaught  81  .60
    2564  

This latter conclusion may be carried further by saying that in those European countries where elementary education is 304 most common, the rate of illegitimacy is high, and that it is low in the more illiterate parts, e.g. Ireland and Brittany.

This latter conclusion can be taken further by stating that in those European countries where basic education is most widespread, the rate of illegitimacy is high, while it is low in the more uneducated areas, e.g. Ireland and Brittany.

It has been said that one of the contributory causes of illegitimacy is the contamination of great cities; statistics, however, disprove this, there being more illegitimacy in the rural districts. Table VII. gives the rate of illegitimacy in some of the principal towns of the United Kingdom.

It’s been said that one of the factors leading to illegitimacy is the influence of large cities; however, statistics show otherwise, indicating that there’s more illegitimacy in rural areas. Table VII shows the rate of illegitimacy in some of the major towns in the United Kingdom.

That poverty is a determining factor in causing illegitimacy the following figures, giving the rate of illegitimacy in the poorest parts of London and in certain well-to-do parts, clearly disprove:—

That poverty is a key factor in causing illegitimacy is clearly disproved by the following figures, which show the rate of illegitimacy in the poorest areas of London compared to some affluent areas:—

Rate of Illegitimacy per 1000 Births.

Rate of Illegitimacy per 1000 Births.

London. 1901. 1903. 1905. 1907.
Stepney 12 9 18 10
Bethnal Green 13 15 13 11
Mile End Old Town 15 13 16 15
Whitechapel 22 24 19 19
St George’s, Hanover Sq. 40 45 45 45
Kensington 48 44 49 54
Fulham 43 42 45 40
Marylebone 182 186 198 182

Tables VIII. and IX. give the rate of illegitimacy for the various counties of Scotland, and Table X. the rate for Ireland.

Tables VIII. and IX. show the rate of illegitimacy for different counties in Scotland, and Table X. shows the rate for Ireland.

Bibliography.—The Annual Reports of the Registrars-General for England, Scotland and Ireland; statistical returns of foreign countries; A. Leffingwell, Illegitimacy and the Influence of the Seasons upon Conduct (1892).

References.—The Annual Reports of the Registrars-General for England, Scotland, and Ireland; statistical returns from foreign countries; A. Leffingwell, Illegitimacy and the Influence of the Seasons on Behavior (1892).

(T. A. I.)

ILLER, a river of Bavaria, rising in the south-west extremity of the kingdom, among the Algäuer Alps. Taking a northerly course, it quits the mountains at Immenstadt, and, flowing by Kempten, from which point it is navigable for rafts, forms for some distance the boundary between Bavaria and Württemberg, and eventually strikes the Danube (right bank) just above Ulm. Its total length is 103 m.

ILLER, is a river in Bavaria, starting in the southwestern part of the kingdom, among the Algäuer Alps. It flows northward, exiting the mountains at Immenstadt, and continues past Kempten, where it becomes navigable for rafts. For a significant stretch, it serves as the border between Bavaria and Württemberg, eventually joining the Danube (right bank) just above Ulm. Its total length is 103 miles.


ILLINOIS, a North Central state of the United States of America, situated between 37° and 42° 30′ N. lat. and 87° 35′ and 91° 40′ W. long. It is bounded N. by Wisconsin, E. by Lake Michigan and Indiana, S.E. and S. by the Ohio river, which separates it from Kentucky, and S.W. and W. by the Mississippi river, which separates it from Missouri and Iowa. The Enabling Act of Congress, which provided for the organization of Illinois Territory into a state, extended its jurisdiction to the middle of Lake Michigan and the Mississippi river; consequently the total area of the state is 58,329 sq. m., of which 2337 sq. m. are water surface, though the official figures of the United States Geological Survey, which does not take into account this extension of jurisdiction, are 56,665 sq. m.

ILLINOIS, is a North Central state in the United States of America, located between 37° and 42° 30′ N latitude and 87° 35′ and 91° 40′ W longitude. It is bordered to the north by Wisconsin, to the east by Lake Michigan and Indiana, and to the southeast and south by the Ohio River, which separates it from Kentucky. To the southwest and west, it’s bordered by the Mississippi River, which separates it from Missouri and Iowa. The Enabling Act of Congress, which established Illinois Territory as a state, extended its jurisdiction to the middle of Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River; as a result, the total area of the state is 58,329 square miles, of which 2,337 square miles are water surface. However, the official figures from the United States Geological Survey, which do not take this jurisdiction extension into account, are 56,665 square miles.

Physiography.—Physiographically, the state (except the extreme southern point) lies wholly in the Prairie Plains region. The N.E. corner is by some placed in the “Great Lakes District.” The southern point touches the Coastal Plain Belt at its northward extension called the “Mississippi Embayment.” The surface of Illinois is an inclined plane, whose general slope is toward the S. and S.W. The average elevation above sea-level is about 600 ft.; the highest elevation is Charles Mound (1257 ft.), on the Illinois-Wisconsin boundary line, one of a chain of hills that crosses Jo Daviess, Stephenson, Winnebago, Boone and McHenry counties. An elevation from 6 to 10 m. wide crosses the southern part of the state from Grand Tower, in Jackson county, on the Mississippi to Shawneetown, in Gallatin county, on the Ohio, the highest point being 1047 ft. above the sea; from Grand Tower N. along the Mississippi to the mouth of the Illinois there is a slight elevation and there is another elevation of minor importance along the Wabash. Many of the river bluffs rise to an unusual height, Starved Rock, near Ottawa, in La Salle county, being 150 ft. above the bed of the Illinois river. Cave in Rock, on the Ohio, in Hardin county, was once the resort of river pirates. The country S. of the elevation (mentioned above) between Grand Tower and Shawneetown was originally covered with forests.

Physiography.—Geographically, the state (except for the far southern tip) is entirely situated in the Prairie Plains region. Some place the northeastern corner in the “Great Lakes District.” The southern tip meets the Coastal Plain Belt at its northern extension known as the “Mississippi Embayment.” The surface of Illinois is an inclined plane that generally slopes toward the south and southwest. The average elevation above sea level is about 600 ft.; the highest point is Charles Mound (1257 ft.), located on the Illinois-Wisconsin border, part of a chain of hills that extends through Jo Daviess, Stephenson, Winnebago, Boone, and McHenry counties. A ridge between 6 to 10 miles wide crosses the southern part of the state from Grand Tower in Jackson County on the Mississippi to Shawneetown in Gallatin County on the Ohio, with the highest point reaching 1047 ft. above sea level. There is a slight rise from Grand Tower north along the Mississippi to the mouth of the Illinois, and there’s another lesser rise along the Wabash. Many river bluffs rise to notable heights, with Starved Rock near Ottawa in La Salle County being 150 ft. above the Illinois River bed. Cave in Rock on the Ohio in Hardin County was once a hideout for river pirates. The area south of the ridge between Grand Tower and Shawneetown was originally forested.

The drainage of Illinois is far better than its low elevation and comparatively level surface would suggest. There are more than 275 streams in the state, grouped in two river systems, one having the Mississippi, which receives three-fourths of the waters of Illinois, as outlet, the other being tributary to the Wabash or Ohio rivers. The most important river is the Illinois, which, formed by the junction of the Des Plaines and the Kankakee, in the N.E. part of Grundy county, crosses the N. central and W. portions of the state, draining 24,726 sq. m. At some points, notably at Lake Peoria, it broadens into vast expanses resembling lakes. The Kaskaskia, in the S., notable for its variations in volume, and the Rock, in the N., are the other important rivers emptying into the Mississippi; the Embarrass and Little Wabash, the Saline and Cache in the E., are the important tributaries of the Wabash and Ohio rivers. The Chicago river, a short stream 1 m. long, formed by the union of its N. and S. branches, naturally flowed into Lake Michigan, but by the construction of the Chicago Drainage Canal its waters were turned in 1900 so that they ultimately flow into the Mississippi.

The drainage system in Illinois is much better than you’d expect from its low elevation and flat terrain. The state has over 275 streams, divided into two river systems: one that flows into the Mississippi, which carries off three-quarters of Illinois' water, and another that feeds into the Wabash or Ohio rivers. The most significant river is the Illinois River, formed where the Des Plaines and Kankakee Rivers meet in the northeastern part of Grundy County. It runs through the north-central and western parts of the state, draining an area of 24,726 square miles. At certain points, like Lake Peoria, it widens into large areas that look like lakes. The Kaskaskia River in the south is known for its varying flow, while the Rock River in the north is another important river flowing into the Mississippi. Other key tributaries of the Wabash and Ohio rivers include the Embarrass, Little Wabash, Saline, and Cache rivers in the east. The Chicago River, a short stream just 1 mile long that results from the joining of its northern and southern branches, originally flowed into Lake Michigan, but in 1900, its waters were redirected by the construction of the Chicago Drainage Canal to flow into the Mississippi instead.

The soil of Illinois is remarkable for its fertility. The surface soils are composed of drift deposits, varying from 10 to 200 ft. in depth; they are often overlaid with a black loam 10 to 15 in. deep, and in a large portion of the state there is a subsoil of yellow clay. The soil of the prairies is darker and coarser than that of the forests, but all differences disappear with cultivation. The soil of the river valleys is alluvial and especially fertile, the “American Bottom,” extending along the Mississippi from Alton to Chester, having been in cultivation for more than 150 years. Along the river bluffs there is a silicious deposit called loess, which is well suited to the cultivation of fruits and vegetables. In general the N. part of the state is especially suited to the cultivation of hay, the N. and central parts to Indian corn, the E. to oats, and the S.W. to wheat.

The soil in Illinois is known for its incredible fertility. The top layers of soil are made up of drift deposits, ranging from 10 to 200 feet deep; they are often covered with a black loam that is 10 to 15 inches thick, and much of the state has a yellow clay subsoil. The prairie soil is darker and grainier than the forest soil, but these differences fade away with farming. The soil in the river valleys is alluvial and particularly fertile, with the "American Bottom," which runs along the Mississippi from Alton to Chester, having been farmed for over 150 years. Along the river bluffs, there is a siliceous deposit called loess that is great for growing fruits and vegetables. Overall, the northern part of the state is especially good for growing hay, while the northern and central areas are ideal for corn, the eastern part for oats, and the southwest for wheat.

Climate.—The climate of Illinois is notable for its extremes of temperature. The warm winds which sweep up the Mississippi Valley from the Gulf of Mexico are responsible for the extremes of heat, and the Arctic winds of the north, which find no mountain range to break their strength, cause the extremes of cold. The mean annual temperature at Winnebago, near the N. border, is 47° F., and it increases to the southward at the rate of about 2° for every degree of latitude, being 52° F. at Springfield, and 58° F. in Cairo, at the S. extremity. The lowest temperature ever recorded in the state was −32° F., in February 1905, at Ashton in the N.W. and the highest was 115° F., in July 1901, at Centralia, in the S., making a maximum range of 147° F. The range of extremes is considerably greater in the N. than in the S.; for example, at Winnebago extremes have ranged from −26° F. to 110° F. or 136° F., but at Cairo they have ranged only from −16° F. to 106° F. or 122° F. The mean annual precipitation is about 39 in. in the S. counties, but this decreases to the northward, being about 36 in. in the central counties and 34 in. along the N. border. The mean annual snowfall increases from 12 in. at the S. extremity to approximately 40 in. in the N. counties. In the N. the precipitation is 44.8% greater in spring and summer than it is in autumn and winter, but in the S. only 26.17% greater. At Cairo the prevailing winds are southerly during all months except February, and as far north as Springfield they are southerly from April to January; but throughout the N. half of the state, except along the shore of Lake Michigan, where they vary from N.E. to S.W., the winds are mostly from the W. or N.W. from October to March and very variable for the remainder of the year. The dampness and miasma, to which so many of the early settlers’ fatal “chills and fever” were due, have practically disappeared before modern methods of sanitary drainage.

Climate.—Illinois has a climate that is known for its extreme temperatures. The warm winds that come up the Mississippi Valley from the Gulf of Mexico are responsible for the hot weather, while the Arctic winds from the north, which aren't blocked by any mountains, lead to the cold extremes. The average annual temperature in Winnebago, located near the northern border, is 47° F., and it typically increases by about 2° for every degree of latitude as you move south, reaching 52° F. in Springfield and 58° F. in Cairo at the southern tip. The lowest temperature ever recorded in the state was −32° F. in February 1905, at Ashton in the northwest, and the highest was 115° F. in July 1901, at Centralia in the south, resulting in a maximum range of 147° F. The temperature fluctuations are much greater in the north than in the south; for example, in Winnebago, temperatures have ranged from −26° F. to 110° F. or even 136° F., while in Cairo they ranged from −16° F. to 106° F. or 122° F. The average annual rainfall is about 39 inches in the southern counties, decreasing as you move north, with about 36 inches in the central counties and 34 inches along the northern border. Average annual snowfall increases from 12 inches in the south to around 40 inches in the northern counties. In the north, precipitation is 44.8% higher in spring and summer compared to autumn and winter, while in the south it’s only 26.17% higher. In Cairo, the prevailing winds are southerly throughout the year except for February, and as far north as Springfield, they remain southerly from April to January. However, in the northern half of the state, except along the shore of Lake Michigan where winds vary from northeast to southwest, the winds predominantly come from the west or northwest from October to March and are quite variable for the rest of the year. The wetness and illness that caused many of the early settlers’ deadly “chills and fever” have mostly vanished thanks to modern sanitation and drainage methods.

Fauna and Flora.—The fauna and flora, which are similar to those of the other North Central States of North America, impressed the early explorers with their richness and variety. “We have seen nothing like this for the fertility of the land, its prairies, woods, and wild cattle,” wrote Père Jacques Marquette of the Illinois region, and later explorers also bore witness to the richness of the country. Many of the original wild animals, such as the bison, bear, beaver, deer and lynx, have disappeared; wolves, foxes and mink are rare; but rabbits, squirrels and raccoons are still common. The fish are mainly the coarser species, such as carp, buffalo-fish and white perch; of better food fish, the principal varieties are bass (black, striped and rock), crappie, pike, “jack salmon” or wall-eyed pike, and sun fish. The yield of the fisheries in 1900 was valued at $388,876. The most important fisheries on the Illinois river and its tributaries were at Havana, Pekin and Peoria, which in 1907-1908 were represented by a total catch of about 10,000,000 ℔, out of a total for this river system of 17,570,000 ℔. The flora is varied. Great numbers of grasses and flowering plants which once beautified the prairie landscape are still found on uncultivated lands, and there are about 80 species of trees, of which the oak, hickory, maple and ash are the most common. The cypress is found only in the S. and the tamarack only in the N. The forest area, estimated at 10,200 sq. m. in 1900, is almost wholly in the southern counties, and nearly all the trees which the northern half of the state had before the coming of the whites were along the banks of streams. Among wild fruits are the cherry, plum, grape, strawberry, blackberry and raspberry.

Fauna and Flora.—The wildlife and plant life, which are similar to those in other North Central States of North America, impressed early explorers with their rich variety. “We have never seen anything like this for the fertility of the land, its prairies, woods, and wild cattle,” wrote Père Jacques Marquette about the Illinois region, and later explorers also acknowledged the abundance of the area. Many original wild animals, such as bison, bears, beavers, deer, and lynxes, have vanished; wolves, foxes, and minks are rare; but rabbits, squirrels, and raccoons are still common. The fish are mostly the coarser types, like carp, buffalo fish, and white perch; among better food fish, the main varieties include bass (black, striped, and rock), crappie, pike, “jack salmon” or wall-eyed pike, and sunfish. The value of the fisheries in 1900 was $388,876. The most significant fisheries on the Illinois River and its tributaries were in Havana, Pekin, and Peoria, which in 1907-1908 accounted for a total catch of about 10,000,000 pounds out of a total for this river system of 17,570,000 pounds. The plant life is diverse. Many grasses and flowering plants that once adorned the prairie landscape are still found on uncultivated land, and there are around 80 species of trees, with oak, hickory, maple, and ash being the most common. Cypress is found only in the south, and tamarack only in the north. The forest area, estimated at 10,200 square miles in 1900, is mostly in the southern counties, and almost all the trees that the northern half of the state had before the arrival of white settlers were along the banks of streams. Among wild fruits are cherries, plums, grapes, strawberries, blackberries, and raspberries.

Industry and Commerce.—The fertility of the soil, the mineral wealth and the transportation facilities have given Illinois a vast economic development. In 1900 more than seven-tenths of the inhabitants in gainful occupations were engaged in agriculture (25.6%), manufactures and mechanical pursuits (26.7%), and trade and transportation (22%).

Industry and Commerce.—The rich soil, mineral resources, and transportation options have fueled significant economic growth in Illinois. By 1900, over 70% of people in jobs were working in agriculture (25.6%), manufacturing and mechanical fields (26.7%), and trade and transportation (22%).

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Historically and comparatively, agriculture is the most important industry. In 1900 about nine-tenths of the total land area was inclosed in farms; the value of farm property ($2,004,316,897) was greater than that of any other state; as regards the total value of farm products in 1899 Illinois was surpassed only by Iowa; in the value of crops Illinois led all the states, and the values of property and of products were respectively 35.6% and 87.1% greater than at the end of the preceding decade. During the last half of the 19th century the number of farms increased rapidly, and the average size declined from 158 acres in 1850 to 127.6 acres in 1870 and 124.2 acres in 1900. The prevailing form of tenure is that of owners, 60.7% of the farms being so operated in 1900; but during the decade 1890-1900 the number of farms cultivated by cash tenants increased 30.8%, and the number by share tenants 24.5%, while the increase of cultivation by owners was only 1%. In proportion of farm land improved (84.5%), Illinois was surpassed only by Iowa among the states. Cereals form the most important agricultural product (600,107,378 bushels in 1899—in value about three-fourths of the total agricultural products of the state). In the production of cereals Illinois surpassed the other states at the close of each decade during the last half of the 19th century except that ending in 1890, when Iowa was the leading state. Indian corn and oats are the most valuable crops. The rank of Illinois in the production of Indian corn was first in 1899 with about one-fifth of the total product of the United States, and first in 19071 with nearly one-tenth of the total crop of the country (9,521,000 bushels out of 99,931,000). In 1879, in 1899 and in 1905 (when it produced 132,779,762 bushels out of 953,216,197 from the entire country) it was first among the states producing oats, but it was surpassed by Iowa in 1889, 1906 and 1907; in 1907 the Illinois crop was 101,675,000 bushels. From 1850 until 1879 Illinois also led in the production of wheat; the competition of the more western states, however, caused a great decline in both acreage and production of that cereal, the state’s rank in the number of bushels produced declining to third in 1889 and to fourteenth in 1899, but the crop and yield per acre in 1902 was larger than any since 1894; in 1905 the state ranked ninth, in 1906 eighth and in 1907 fifth (the crop being 40,104,000 bushels) among the wheat-growing states of the country. The rank of the state in the growing of rye also declined from second in 1879 to eighth in 1899 and to ninth in 1907 (when the crop was 1,106,000 bushels), and the rank in the growing of barley from third in 1869 to sixteenth in 1899. In 1907 the barley crop was 600,000 bushels. Hay and forage are, after cereals, the most important crops; in 1907 2,664,000 acres produced 3,730,000 tons of hay valued at $41,030,000. Potatoes and broom corn are other valuable products. The potato crop in 1907 was 13,398,000 bushels, valued at $9,647,000, and the sugar beet, first introduced during the last decade of the 19th century, gave promise of becoming one of the most important crops. From 1889 to 1899 there was a distinct decline in the production of apples and peaches, but there was a great increase in that of cherries, plums and pears. The large urban population of the state makes the animal products very valuable, Illinois ranking third in 1900 in the number of dairy cows, and in the farm value of dairy products; indeed, all classes of live stock, except sheep, increased in number from 1850 to 1900, and at the end of the latter year Illinois was surpassed only by Iowa in the number of horses and swine; in 1909 there were more horses in Illinois than in Iowa. Important influences in the agricultural development of the state have been the formation of Farmers’ Institutes, organized in 1895, a Corn Breeders’ Association in 1898, and the introduction of fertilizers, the use of which in 1899 was nearly seven times the amount in 1889, and the study of soils, carried on by the State Department of Agriculture and the United States Department of Agriculture.

Historically and comparatively, agriculture is the most important industry. In 1900, about 90% of the total land area was used for farming; the value of farm property ($2,004,316,897) was greater than that of any other state. In terms of the total value of farm products in 1899, Illinois was only surpassed by Iowa. Illinois led all states in crop value, and the values of property and products were 35.6% and 87.1% higher than at the end of the previous decade, respectively. During the last half of the 19th century, the number of farms increased rapidly, while the average farm size dropped from 158 acres in 1850 to 127.6 acres in 1870 and 124.2 acres in 1900. The most common form of ownership was by the farmers themselves, with 60.7% of farms operated this way in 1900. However, from 1890 to 1900, the number of farms managed by cash tenants rose by 30.8%, and by share tenants by 24.5%, while the number cultivated by owners only grew by 1%. In terms of improved farm land (84.5%), Illinois was only outdone by Iowa. Cereals were the most significant agricultural product, with 600,107,378 bushels produced in 1899, making up about three-quarters of the total agricultural output of the state. In cereal production, Illinois led other states at the end of each decade during the latter half of the 19th century, except for 1890, when Iowa took the lead. Corn and oats were the most valuable crops. Illinois was first in the production of corn in 1899, contributing about 20% of the total U.S. output, and also topped the list in 1907, with nearly 10% of the national crop (9,521,000 bushels out of 99,931,000). In 1879, 1899, and 1905 (when it produced 132,779,762 bushels out of 953,216,197 nationwide), Illinois was the leading state for oats, though it was surpassed by Iowa in 1889, 1906, and 1907; in 1907, Illinois's oat crop reached 101,675,000 bushels. From 1850 until 1879, Illinois also led in wheat production; however, competition from more western states caused a significant drop in both acreage and output of that crop, with Illinois's ranking falling to third in 1889 and fourteenth in 1899. Nonetheless, the crop and yield per acre in 1902 were larger than any since 1894; in 1905, the state ranked ninth, eighth in 1906, and fifth (with a crop of 40,104,000 bushels) among wheat-producing states. The state's rank in rye production also decreased from second in 1879 to eighth in 1899 and to ninth in 1907 (with a crop of 1,106,000 bushels), and for barley production, it dropped from third in 1869 to sixteenth in 1899. In 1907, the barley crop was 600,000 bushels. Hay and forage are the next most vital crops after cereals; in 1907, 2,664,000 acres produced 3,730,000 tons of hay valued at $41,030,000. Potatoes and broom corn are also important products. The potato crop in 1907 was 13,398,000 bushels, valued at $9,647,000, and sugar beets, first introduced in the late 19th century, showed promise of becoming a significant crop. From 1889 to 1899, there was a noticeable decline in apple and peach production, but a substantial increase in cherries, plums, and pears. The large urban population of the state makes animal products highly valuable; in 1900, Illinois ranked third in the number of dairy cows and in the farm value of dairy products. Indeed, all classes of livestock, except sheep, increased in number from 1850 to 1900, and by the end of that year, Illinois was only surpassed by Iowa in the number of horses and pigs; by 1909, there were more horses in Illinois than in Iowa. Key factors in the agricultural growth of the state included the establishment of Farmers’ Institutes in 1895, a Corn Breeders’ Association in 1898, and the introduction of fertilizers, whose usage in 1899 was nearly seven times that of 1889, along with soil studies conducted by the State Department of Agriculture and the United States Department of Agriculture.

The growth of manufacturing in Illinois during the last half of the 19th century, due largely to the development of her exceptional transportation facilities, was the most rapid and remarkable in the industrial history of the United States. In 1850 the state ranked fifteenth, in 1860 eighth, in 1870 sixth, in 1880 fourth, in 1890 and again in 1900 third, in the value of its manufactures. The average increases of invested capital and products for each decade from 1850-1900 were, respectively, 189.26% and 152.9%; in 1900 the capital invested ($776,829,598, of which $732,829,771 was in establishments under the “factory system”), and the product ($1,259,730,168, of which $1,120,868,308 was from establishments under the “factory system”), showed unusually small percentages of increase over those for 1890 (54.7% and 38.6% respectively); and in 1905 the capital and product of establishments under the “factory system” were respectively $975,844,799 and $1,410,342,129, showing increases of 33.2% and 25.8% over the corresponding figures for 1900.

The growth of manufacturing in Illinois during the last half of the 19th century, primarily due to the development of its outstanding transportation options, was the fastest and most impressive in the industrial history of the United States. In 1850, the state ranked fifteenth, in 1860 eighth, in 1870 sixth, in 1880 fourth, and in both 1890 and 1900 third in the value of its manufactured goods. The average increases in invested capital and production for each decade from 1850-1900 were 189.26% and 152.9%, respectively; in 1900, the capital invested ($776,829,598, of which $732,829,771 was in facilities under the “factory system”), and the product ($1,259,730,168, with $1,120,868,308 from facilities under the “factory system”), displayed unusually low percentage increases compared to those for 1890 (54.7% and 38.6% respectively); and in 1905, the capital and production of facilities under the “factory system” reached $975,844,799 and $1,410,342,129, reflecting increases of 33.2% and 25.8% over the corresponding figures for 1900.

The most important industry was the wholesale slaughtering and packing of meats, which yielded 22.9% of the total manufactured product of the state in 1900, and 22.5% of the total in 1905. From 1870 to 1905 Illinois surpassed the other states in this industry, yielding in 1900 and in 1905 more than one-third of the total product of the United States. The increase in the value of the product in this industry in Illinois between 1900 and 1905 was over 10%. An interesting phase of the industry is the secondary enterprises that have developed from it, nearly all portions of the slaughtered animal being finally put to use. The blood is converted into clarifying material, the entrails are used for sausage coverings, the hoofs and small bones furnish the raw material for the manufacture of glue, the large bones are carved into knife handles, and the horns into combs, the fats are made to yield butterine, lard and soap, and the hides and hair are used in the manufacture of mattresses and felts.

The most important industry was the wholesale slaughtering and packaging of meats, which accounted for 22.9% of the total manufactured products in the state in 1900 and 22.5% in 1905. From 1870 to 1905, Illinois outperformed other states in this industry, producing over one-third of the total output in the United States in both 1900 and 1905. The value of this industry's products in Illinois increased by more than 10% between 1900 and 1905. An interesting aspect of the industry is the secondary businesses that have arisen from it, with nearly all parts of the slaughtered animal being utilized. The blood is turned into clarifying agents, the entrails are used for sausage casings, the hooves and small bones are raw materials for glue production, large bones are crafted into knife handles, and horns are made into combs. The fats are processed into butter substitute, lard, and soap, while the hides and hair are used to make mattresses and felts.

The manufacture of iron and steel products, and of products depending upon iron and steel as raw material, is second in importance. The iron for these industries is secured from the Lake Superior region, the coal and limestone from mines within the state. Indeed, in the manufacture of iron and steel, Illinois was surpassed in 1900 only by Pennsylvania and Ohio, the 1900 product being valued at $60,303,144; but the value of foundry and machine shop products was even greater ($63,878,352). In 1905 the iron and steel product had increased in value since 1900 44.9%, to $87,352,761; the foundry and machine shop products 25.2%, to $79,961,482; and the wire product showed even greater increase, largely because of a difference of classification in the two censuses, the value in 1905 being $14,099,566, as against $2,879,188 in 1900, showing an increase of nearly 390%. The development of agriculture, by creating a demand for improved farm machinery, has stimulated the inventive genius; in many cases blacksmith shops have been transformed into machinery factories; also well-established companies of the eastern states have been induced to remove to Illinois by the low prices of iron and wood, due to cheap transportation rates on the Great Lakes. Consequently, in 1890, in 1900 and again in 1905, Illinois surpassed any one of the other states in the production of agricultural implements, the product in 1900 being valued at $42,033,796, or 41.5% of the total output of agricultural machinery in the United States; and in 1905 with a value of $38,412,452 it represented 34.3% of the product of the entire country. In the building of railway cars by manufacturing corporations, Illinois also led the states in 1900 and in 1905, the product being valued at $24,845,606 in 1900 and at $30,926,464 (an increase of nearly one-fourth) in 1905; and in construction by railway companies was second in 1900, with a product valued at $16,580,424, which had increased 53.7% in 1905, when the product was valued at $25,491,209. The greatest increase of products between 1890 and 1900 was in the manufacture of electrical apparatus (2400%), in which the increase in value of product was 37.2% between 1900 and 1905.

The production of iron and steel products, along with items that rely on iron and steel as raw materials, is very important. The iron for these industries comes from the Lake Superior area, while coal and limestone are sourced from mines within the state. In fact, in 1900, Illinois was ranked third in iron and steel manufacturing, following Pennsylvania and Ohio, with the 1900 output valued at $60,303,144; however, the value of foundry and machine shop products was even higher at $63,878,352. By 1905, the value of iron and steel production had risen by 44.9% since 1900, reaching $87,352,761; foundry and machine shop products grew by 25.2%, totaling $79,961,482; and the wire product saw an even larger increase due to different classifications in the two censuses, going from $2,879,188 in 1900 to $14,099,566 in 1905, an impressive rise of nearly 390%. The growth of agriculture created a demand for better farm machinery, which encouraged innovation; many blacksmith shops evolved into machinery factories, and established companies from the eastern states were attracted to relocate to Illinois due to low prices for iron and wood, thanks to affordable transportation rates on the Great Lakes. As a result, in 1890, 1900, and again in 1905, Illinois outperformed all other states in the production of agricultural implements, with the 1900 output valued at $42,033,796, accounting for 41.5% of the total agricultural machinery production in the U.S.; in 1905, this dropped to $38,412,452, representing 34.3% of the national production. In terms of railway car manufacturing, Illinois also led the states in 1900 and 1905, with a product value of $24,845,606 in 1900 and $30,926,464 in 1905 (an increase of nearly one-fourth); for railway construction, Illinois was second in 1900, with a product valued at $16,580,424, which grew by 53.7% by 1905, reaching $25,491,209. The most significant growth in products from 1890 to 1900 was in the manufacture of electrical equipment (2400%), with an increase in product value of 37.2% between 1900 and 1905.

Another class of manufactures consists of those dependent upon agricultural products for raw material. Of these, the manufacture of distilled liquors was in 1900 and in 1905 the most important, Illinois leading the other states; the value of the 1900 product, which was nearly 12% less than that of 1890, was increased by 41.6%, to $54,101,805, in 1905. Peoria, the centre of the industry, is the largest producer of whisky and high-class wines of the cities in the United States. There were also, in 1900, 35 direct and other indirect products made from Indian corn by glucose plants, which consumed one-fifth of the Indian corn product of the state, and the value of these products was $18,122,814; in 1905 it was only $14,532,180. Of other manufactures dependent upon agriculture, flour and grist mill products declined between 1890 and 1900, but between 1900 and 1905 increased 39.6% to a value of $39,892,127. The manufacture of cheese, butter and condensed milk increased 60% between 1890 and 1900, but between 1900 and 1905 only 3.1%, the product in 1905 being valued at $13,276,533.

Another group of manufacturers relies on agricultural products for their raw materials. Among these, the production of distilled spirits was the most significant in 1900 and 1905, with Illinois leading the other states; the value of the 1900 product, which was nearly 12% less than that of 1890, rose by 41.6% to $54,101,805 in 1905. Peoria, the hub of the industry, is the largest producer of whiskey and high-quality wines among cities in the U.S. In 1900, there were also 35 direct and other indirect products made from corn by glucose plants, which used one-fifth of the state's corn production, and the value of these products was $18,122,814; by 1905, it had dropped to $14,532,180. Other agricultural-dependent products showed a decline in flour and grist mill production between 1890 and 1900, but saw a 39.6% increase between 1900 and 1905, reaching a value of $39,892,127. The production of cheese, butter, and condensed milk grew by 60% from 1890 to 1900, but only increased by 3.1% from 1900 to 1905, with the 1905 value at $13,276,533.

Other prosperous industries are the manufacture of lumber and timber products (the raw material being floated down the Mississippi river from the forests of other states), whose output increased from 1890 to 1900 nearly 50%, but declined slightly between 1900 and 1905; of furniture ($22,131,846 in 1905; $15,285,475 in 1900; showing an increase of 44.8%), and of musical instruments ($13,323,358 in 1905; $8,156,445 in 1900; an increase of 63.3% in the period), in both of which Illinois was second in 1900 and in 1905; book and job printing, in which the state ranked second in 1900 ($28,293,684 in 1905; $19,761,780 in 1900; an increase of 43.2%), newspaper and periodical printing ($28,644,981 in 1905; $19,404,955 in 1900; an increase of 47.6%), in which it ranked third in 1900; and the manufacture of clothing, boots and shoes. The value of the clothing manufactured in 1905 was $67,439,617 (men’s $55,202,999; women’s $12,236,618), an increase of 30.1% over 1900. The great manufacturing centre is Chicago, where more than seven-tenths of the manufactured products of the state were produced in 1900, and more than two-thirds in 1905.

Other successful industries include lumber and timber products (with the raw material coming down the Mississippi River from forests in other states), where production jumped nearly 50% from 1890 to 1900, but saw a slight decline between 1900 and 1905; furniture ($22,131,846 in 1905; $15,285,475 in 1900; a 44.8% increase), and musical instruments ($13,323,358 in 1905; $8,156,445 in 1900; a 63.3% increase during that time), in which Illinois ranked second in both 1900 and 1905; book and job printing, where the state was second in 1900 ($28,293,684 in 1905; $19,761,780 in 1900; a 43.2% increase), and newspaper and periodical printing ($28,644,981 in 1905; $19,404,955 in 1900; a 47.6% increase), where it ranked third in 1900; as well as the manufacture of clothing, boots, and shoes. The value of clothing produced in 1905 was $67,439,617 (men’s $55,202,999; women’s $12,236,618), which was a 30.1% increase over 1900. Chicago is the main manufacturing hub, where more than 70% of the state's manufactured goods were produced in 1900, and over two-thirds in 1905.

In this development of manufactures, the mineral resources have been an important influence, nearly one-fourth (23.6%) of the manufactured product in 1900 depending upon minerals for raw material. Although the iron ore, for the iron and steel industry, is furnished by the mines of the Lake Superior region, bituminous coal and limestone are supplied by the Illinois deposits. The great central coal field of North America extends into Illinois from 306 Indiana as far N. as a line from the N. boundary of Grundy county to Rock Island, W. from Rock Island to Henderson county, then S.W. to the southern part of Jackson county, when it runs S. into Kentucky, thus including more than three-fourths (42,900 sq. m.) of the land surface of the state. In 1679 Hennepin reported deposits of coal near what is now Ottawa on the Illinois; there was some mining in 1810 on the Big Muddy river in Jackson county; and in 1833, 6000 tons were mined. In 1907 (according to state authorities) coal was produced in 52 counties, Williamson, Sangamon, St Clair, Macoupin and Madison giving the largest yield. In that year the tonnage was 51,317,146, and the value of the total product $54,687,882; in 1908 the value of the state’s product of coal was exceeded only by that of Pennsylvania (nearly six times as great). Nearly 30% of all coal mined in the state was mined by machinery in 1907. The output of petroleum in Illinois was long unimportant. The first serious attempts to find oil and gas in the state were in the ’fifties of the 19th century. In 1889 the yield of petroleum was 1460 barrels. In 1902 it was only 200 barrels, nearly all of which came from Litchfield, Montgomery county (where oil had been found in commercial quantities in 1886), and Washington, Tazewell county, in the west central part of the state; at this time it was used locally for lubricating purposes. There had been some drilling in Clark county in 1865, and in 1904 this field was again worked at Westfield. In 1905 the total output of the state was 181,084 barrels; in 1906 the amount increased to 4,397,050 barrels, valued at $3,274,818; and in 1907, according to state reports, the output was 24,281,973 barrels, being nearly as great as that of the Appalachian field. The petroleum-producing area of commercial importance is a strip of land about 80 m. long and 2 or 3 to 10 or 12 m. wide in the S.E. part of the state, centring about Crawford county. In April 1906 the first pipe lines for petroleum in Illinois were laid; before that time all shipments had been in tank cars. In connexion with petroleum, natural gas has been found, especially in Clark and Crawford counties; in 1906 the state’s product of natural gas was valued at $87,211. Limestone is found in about 30 counties, principally Cook, Will and Kankakee; the value of the product in 1906 was $2,942,331. Clay and clay products of the state were valued in 1906 at $12,765,453. Deposits of lead and zinc have been discovered and worked in Jo Daviess county, near Galena and Elizabeth, in the N.W. part of the state. A southern district, including parts of Hardin, Pope and Saline counties, has produced, incidentally to fluorspar, some lead, the maximum amount being 176,387 ℔ from the Fairview mine in 1866-1867. In 1905 the zinc from the entire state was valued at $5,499,508; the lead product in 1906 was valued at $65,208. Sandstone, quarried in 10 counties, was valued in 1905 at $29,115 and in 1906 at $19,125. Pope and Hardin counties were the only sources of fluorspar in the United States from 1842 until 1898, when fluorspar began to be mined in Kentucky; in 1906 the output was 28,268 tons, valued at $160,623, and in 1905 33,275 tons, valued at $220,206. The centre of the fluorspar district was Rosiclare in Hardin county. The cement deposits are also of value, natural cement being valued at $118,221 and Portland cement at $2,461,494 in 1906. Iron ore has been discovered. Glass sand is obtained from the Illinois river valley in La Salle county; in 1906 it was valued at $156,684, making the state in this product second only to Pennsylvania and West Virginia (in 1905 it was second only to Pennsylvania). The value of the total mineral product of the state in 1906 was estimated at $121,188,306.2

In this growth of manufacturing, mineral resources played a key role, with nearly one-fourth (23.6%) of the manufactured goods in 1900 relying on minerals for raw materials. The iron ore for the iron and steel industry came from the mines in the Lake Superior region, while bituminous coal and limestone were supplied by the deposits in Illinois. The large central coal field of North America stretches into Illinois from Indiana, reaching as far north as a line from the northern boundary of Grundy County to Rock Island, west from Rock Island to Henderson County, and then southwest to the southern part of Jackson County, where it runs south into Kentucky, covering more than three-fourths (42,900 square miles) of the state's land surface. In 1679, Hennepin reported coal deposits near what is now Ottawa on the Illinois River; some mining occurred in 1810 along the Big Muddy River in Jackson County; and in 1833, 6,000 tons were mined. In 1907, according to state officials, coal was produced in 52 counties, with the largest yields coming from Williamson, Sangamon, St. Clair, Macoupin, and Madison. That year, the total coal output reached 51,317,146 tons, valued at $54,687,882; in 1908, the value of the state's coal production was second only to Pennsylvania (which was nearly six times greater). Almost 30% of all coal mined in the state was extracted using machinery in 1907. The output of petroleum in Illinois had long been minimal. The first serious attempts to find oil and gas in the state began in the 1850s. In 1889, petroleum output was 1,460 barrels. By 1902, it dropped to only 200 barrels, mostly from Litchfield, Montgomery County (where oil had first been found in commercial quantities in 1886), and Washington, Tazewell County, in the west-central part of the state; at that time, it was primarily used locally for lubrication. Some drilling occurred in Clark County in 1865, and the field was revisited in Westfield in 1904. In 1905, the total output of the state reached 181,084 barrels; in 1906, it increased to 4,397,050 barrels, valued at $3,274,818; and in 1907, according to state reports, the output was 24,281,973 barrels, almost matching that of the Appalachian field. The commercially significant petroleum-producing area extends roughly 80 miles long and 2 to 3, 10, or 12 miles wide in the southeastern part of the state, primarily around Crawford County. In April 1906, the first pipelines for petroleum in Illinois were installed; prior to that, all shipments were transported in tank cars. Along with petroleum, natural gas was discovered, especially in Clark and Crawford counties; in 1906, the state's natural gas production was valued at $87,211. Limestone can be found in about 30 counties, mainly Cook, Will, and Kankakee; its value in 1906 was $2,942,331. The value of clay and clay products in the state reached $12,765,453 in 1906. Lead and zinc deposits have been found and worked in Jo Daviess County, near Galena and Elizabeth, in the northwest part of the state. A southern district, including parts of Hardin, Pope, and Saline counties, has produced some lead, primarily alongside fluorspar, with the highest amount being 176,387 pounds from the Fairview mine in 1866-1867. In 1905, the value of zinc from the entire state was $5,499,508, while lead production in 1906 was valued at $65,208. Sandstone, quarried in 10 counties, was valued at $29,115 in 1905 and $19,125 in 1906. Pope and Hardin counties were the only sources of fluorspar in the United States from 1842 until 1898, when fluorspar mining began in Kentucky; in 1906, the output was 28,268 tons, valued at $160,623, and in 1905, 33,275 tons valued at $220,206. Rosiclare in Hardin County was the center of the fluorspar district. The cement deposits also hold value, with natural cement valued at $118,221 and Portland cement at $2,461,494 in 1906. Iron ore has been discovered. Glass sand is sourced from the Illinois River Valley in La Salle County, valued at $156,684 in 1906, making the state second in this product only to Pennsylvania and West Virginia (in 1905, it was second only to Pennsylvania). The total value of the mineral products from the state in 1906 was estimated at $121,188,306.

Communications.—Transportation facilities have been an important factor in the economic development of Illinois. The first European settlers, who were French, came by way of the Great Lakes, and established intimate relations with New Orleans by the Mississippi river. The American settlers came by way of the Ohio river, and the immigrants from the New England and Eastern states found their way to Illinois over the Erie Canal and the Great Lakes. The first transportation problem was to connect Lake Michigan and the Mississippi river; this was accomplished by building the Illinois & Michigan canal to La Salle, at the head of the navigation on the Illinois river, a work which was begun in 1836 and completed in 1848 under the auspices of the state. In 1890 the Sanitary District of Chicago undertook the construction of a canal from Chicago to Joliet, where the new canal joins the Illinois & Michigan canal; this canal is 24 ft. deep and 160 ft. wide. The Federal government completed in October 1907 the construction of a new canal, the Illinois & Mississippi, popularly known as the Hennepin, from Hennepin to Rock river (just above the mouth of Green river), 7 ft. deep, 52 ft. wide (at bottom), and 80 ft. wide at the water-line. This canal provides, with the Illinois & Michigan canal and the Illinois river, an improved waterway from Chicago to the Mississippi river, and greatly increases the commercial and industrial importance of the “twin cities” of Sterling and Rock Falls, where the Rock river is dammed by a dam nearly 1500 ft. long, making the main feeder for the canal. This feeder, formally opened in 1907, runs nearly due S. to a point on the canal N.W. of Sheffield and N.E. of Mineral; there are important locks on either side of this junction. At the general election in November 1908 the people of Illinois authorized the issue of bonds to the amount of $20,000,000 to provide for the canalizing of the Desplaines and Illinois rivers as far as the city of Utica, on the latter river, and connecting with the channel of the Chicago Sanitary District at Joliet. The situation of Illinois between the Great Lakes and the Appalachian Mountains has made it a natural gateway for railroads connecting the North Atlantic and the far Western states. The first railway constructed in the West was the Northern-Cross railroad from Meredosia on the Illinois river to Springfield, completed in 1842; during the last thirty years of the 19th century Illinois had a larger railway mileage than any of the American states, her mileage in January 1909 amounting to 12,215.63 m., second only to that of Texas. A Railway and Warehouse Commission has authority to fix freight and passenger rates for each road. It is the oldest commission with such power in the United States, and the litigation with railways which followed its establishment in 1871 fully demonstrated the public character of the railway business and was the precedent for the policy of state control elsewhere.3

Communications.—Transportation facilities have played a significant role in the economic development of Illinois. The first European settlers, who were French, arrived via the Great Lakes and developed close ties with New Orleans along the Mississippi River. American settlers came through the Ohio River, while immigrants from New England and the Eastern states traveled to Illinois via the Erie Canal and the Great Lakes. The initial transportation challenge was to link Lake Michigan with the Mississippi River; this was achieved by constructing the Illinois & Michigan Canal to La Salle, at the head of navigation on the Illinois River. This project began in 1836 and was completed in 1848 under the state's guidance. In 1890, the Sanitary District of Chicago began building a canal from Chicago to Joliet, where this new canal connects with the Illinois & Michigan Canal; it is 24 ft. deep and 160 ft. wide. The Federal government finished constructing a new canal, known as the Illinois & Mississippi or the Hennepin Canal, from Hennepin to the Rock River (just above Green River’s mouth) in October 1907; it is 7 ft. deep, 52 ft. wide (at the bottom), and 80 ft. wide at the waterline. This canal, along with the Illinois & Michigan Canal and the Illinois River, creates an improved waterway from Chicago to the Mississippi River, significantly enhancing the commercial and industrial significance of the “twin cities” of Sterling and Rock Falls, where the Rock River is dammed by a nearly 1500 ft. long dam that serves as the main supplier for the canal. This feeder, which officially opened in 1907, runs almost directly south to a point on the canal northwest of Sheffield and northeast of Mineral; there are significant locks on either side of this junction. In the general election in November 1908, the people of Illinois approved issuing bonds totaling $20,000,000 to fund the canalization of the Desplaines and Illinois Rivers up to the city of Utica, connecting with the channel of the Chicago Sanitary District at Joliet. Illinois' location between the Great Lakes and the Appalachian Mountains makes it a natural gateway for railroads linking the North Atlantic with the far West. The first railway built in the West was the Northern-Cross Railroad from Meredosia on the Illinois River to Springfield, completed in 1842; during the last thirty years of the 19th century, Illinois had more railway mileage than any other American state, totaling 12,215.63 miles in January 1909, second only to Texas. A Railway and Warehouse Commission has the authority to set freight and passenger rates for each railroad. It is the oldest commission in the United States with such power, and the legal battles with railroads that followed its establishment in 1871 clearly demonstrated the public nature of the railway business and set a precedent for state control policies elsewhere.3

Population.—In 1870 and 1880 Illinois was fourth among the states of the United States in population; but in 1890, in 1900, and in 1910, its rank was third, the figures for the last three years named being respectively 3,826,351, 4,821,550, and 5,638,591.4 The increase from 1880 to 1890 was 24.3%; from 1890 to 1900, 26%. Of the population in 1900, 98.2% was white, 79.9% was native-born, and 51.2% was of foreign parentage (either one or both parents foreign-born). The principal foreign element was German, the Teutonic immigration being especially large in the decade ending in 1860; the immigrants from the United Kingdom were second in importance, those from the Scandinavian countries third, and those from southern Europe fourth. The urban population, on the basis of places having 4000 inhabitants or more, was 51% of the total; indeed the population of Cook county, in which the city of Chicago is situated, was two-fifths of the total population of the state; during the decade of the Civil War (1860-1870) the population of the state increased only 48.4%, and that of Cook county about 140%, while from 1870 to 1900 the increase of all counties, excluding Cook, was about 36%, the increase in Chicago was about 468%. Of the 930 incorporated cities, towns and villages, 614 had less than 1000 inhabitants, 27 more than 5000 and less than 10,000, 14 more than 10,000 and less than 20,000, 4 more than 20,000 and less than 25,000, and 7 more than 25,000. These seven were Chicago (1,698,575), the second city in population in the United States, Peoria (56,100), Quincy (36,252), Springfield (34,159), Rockford (31,051), East St Louis (29,655), and Joliet (29,353). In 1906 it was estimated that the total number of communicants of all denominations was 2,077,197, and that of this total 932,084 were Roman Catholics, 263,344 were Methodist (235,092 of the Northern Church, 7198 of the Southern Church, 9833 of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, 5512 of the Methodist Protestant Church, and 3597 of the Free Methodist Church of North America), 202,566 were Lutherans (113,527 of the Evangelical Lutheran Synodical 307 Conference, 36,366 of the General Council of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, 14,768 of the General Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, and 14,005 of the Evangelical Lutheran Synod of Iowa and other states), 152,870 were Baptists (118,884 of the Northern Convention, 16,081 of the National (Colored) Baptist Convention, 7755 Free Baptists, 6671 General Baptists, and 5163 Primitive Baptists), 115,602 were Presbyterian (86,251 of the Northern Church, 17,208 of the Cumberland Church (now a part of the Northern Church), and 9555 of the United Presbyterian Church), 101,516 were Disciples of Christ, 50,973 were members of the German Evangelical Synod of North America, 54,875 were Congregationalists, and 36,364 were Protestant Episcopalians.

Population.—In 1870 and 1880, Illinois ranked fourth among the states in the United States in population; however, by 1890, 1900, and 1910, its rank rose to third, with populations of 3,826,351, 4,821,550, and 5,638,591 respectively. The increase from 1880 to 1890 was 24.3%; from 1890 to 1900, it was 26%. Of the population in 1900, 98.2% were white, 79.9% were native-born, and 51.2% had foreign parentage (either one or both parents were foreign-born). The largest foreign group was German, with significant immigration from Germany during the decade ending in 1860; immigrants from the United Kingdom were the second largest group, those from Scandinavian countries were third, and those from southern Europe were fourth. The urban population, defined as places with 4,000 inhabitants or more, made up 51% of the total; in fact, Cook County, where Chicago is located, accounted for two-fifths of the state's total population. During the Civil War decade (1860-1870), the state's population grew only 48.4%, while Cook County's population increased by about 140%. From 1870 to 1900, the population growth in all counties, excluding Cook, was about 36%, while in Chicago, it was about 468%. Out of 930 incorporated cities, towns, and villages, 614 had fewer than 1,000 residents, 27 had between 5,000 and 10,000, 14 had between 10,000 and 20,000, 4 had between 20,000 and 25,000, and 7 had more than 25,000. These seven were Chicago (1,698,575), the second largest city in the United States, Peoria (56,100), Quincy (36,252), Springfield (34,159), Rockford (31,051), East St. Louis (29,655), and Joliet (29,353). In 1906, the total number of members of all denominations was estimated to be 2,077,197, with 932,084 being Roman Catholics, 263,344 Methodists (235,092 from the Northern Church, 7,198 from the Southern Church, 9,833 from the African Methodist Episcopal Church, 5,512 from the Methodist Protestant Church, and 3,597 from the Free Methodist Church of North America), 202,566 Lutherans (113,527 from the Evangelical Lutheran Synodical Conference, 36,366 from the General Council of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, 14,768 from the General Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, and 14,005 from the Evangelical Lutheran Synod of Iowa and other states), 152,870 Baptists (118,884 from the Northern Convention, 16,081 from the National (Colored) Baptist Convention, 7,755 Free Baptists, 6,671 General Baptists, and 5,163 Primitive Baptists), 115,602 Presbyterians (86,251 from the Northern Church, 17,208 from the Cumberland Church (now part of the Northern Church), and 9,555 from the United Presbyterian Church), 101,516 Disciples of Christ, 50,973 members of the German Evangelical Synod of North America, 54,875 Congregationalists, and 36,364 Protestant Episcopalians.

Government.—Illinois has been governed under four constitutions, a Territorial constitution of 1812, and three State constitutions of 1818, 1848 and 1870 (subsequently amended). Amendments may be made by a Constitutional Convention or a two-thirds vote of all the members elected to the legislature, ratification by the people being required in either instance. To call a Constitutional Convention it is necessary that a majority popular vote concur in the demand therefor of two-thirds of the members of each house of the General Assembly. The executive officials hold office for four years, with the exception of the treasurer, whose term of service is two years. The governor must be at least thirty years of age, and he must also have been a citizen of the United States and of Illinois for the five years preceding his election. His veto may be over-ridden by a two-thirds vote of all the members elected to the legislature. Members of the legislature, which meets biennially, are chosen by districts, three representatives and one senator from each of the 51 districts, 18 of which are in Cook county. The term of senators is four years, that of representatives two years; and in the election of representatives since 1870 there has been a provision for “minority” representation, under which by cumulative voting each voter may cast as many votes for one candidate as there are representatives to be chosen, or he may distribute his votes (giving three votes to one candidate, or 1½ votes each to two candidates, or one vote each to three candidates), the candidate or candidates receiving the highest number of votes being elected. A similar system of cumulative voting for aldermen may be provided for by ordinance of councils in cities organized under the general state law of 1872. Requisites for membership in the General Assembly are citizenship in the United States; residence in Illinois for five years, two of which must have been just preceding the candidate’s election; and an age of 25 years for senators, and of 21 years for representatives. Conviction for bribery, perjury or other infamous crime, or failure (in the case of a collector or holder of public moneys) to account for and pay over all moneys due from him are disqualifications; and before entering upon the duties of his office each member of the legislature must take a prescribed oath that he has neither given nor promised anything to influence voters at the election, and that he will not accept, directly or indirectly, “money or other valuable thing from any corporation, company or person” for his vote or influence upon proposed legislation. Special legislation is prohibited when general laws are applicable, and special and local legislation is forbidden in any of twenty-three enumerated cases, among which are divorce, changing of an individual’s name or the name of a place, and the grant to a corporation of the right to build railways or to exercise any exclusive franchise or privilege. The judiciary consists of a supreme court of 7 members elected for a term of 9 years; a circuit court of 54 judges, 3 for each of 18 judicial districts, elected for 6 years; and four appellate courts—one for Cook county (which has also a “branch appellate court,” both the court and the branch court being presided over by three circuit judges appointed by the Supreme Court) and three other districts, each with three judges appointed in the same way. In Cook county a criminal court, and the supreme court of Cook county (originally the supreme court of Chicago), supplement the work of the circuit court. There are also county courts, consisting of one judge who serves for four years; in some counties probate courts have been established, and in counties of more than 500,000 population juvenile courts for the trial and care of delinquent children are provided for.

Government.—Illinois has been governed under four constitutions: a Territorial constitution from 1812, and three State constitutions from 1818, 1848, and 1870 (which have been amended since). Amendments can be made by a Constitutional Convention or a two-thirds vote of all elected members of the legislature, with ratification by the people required in either case. To call a Constitutional Convention, a majority of popular votes must agree to the request from two-thirds of the members in each house of the General Assembly. Executive officials serve for four years, except for the treasurer, whose term is two years. The governor must be at least thirty years old and a citizen of the United States and Illinois for the five years before the election. The governor's veto can be overridden by a two-thirds vote of all elected members of the legislature. The legislature, which meets every two years, is made up of members chosen by districts: three representatives and one senator from each of the 51 districts, 18 of which are in Cook County. Senators serve for four years while representatives serve for two years. Since 1870, representatives have been elected with a provision for “minority” representation, allowing voters to cast as many votes as there are representatives to be chosen—voters can concentrate votes on one candidate or distribute them among several. The candidates with the most votes win. A similar cumulative voting system for aldermen can be established by ordinance in cities organized under the general state law of 1872. To be a member of the General Assembly, one must be a U.S. citizen, reside in Illinois for five years (two of which must be immediately before the election), be at least 25 years old for senators, and 21 years old for representatives. Those convicted of bribery, perjury, or other serious crimes, or who fail to account for and pay any public funds owed, are disqualified. Before taking office, each legislator must swear an oath that they have not offered anything to influence voters in the election and will not accept money or gifts from any corporation, company, or individual for their vote or influence on proposed legislation. Special legislation is banned when general laws apply, and special and local laws are prohibited in twenty-three specific cases, including divorce, changing a person's name or a place's name, and granting corporations rights to build railways or exercise exclusive franchises. The judiciary includes a supreme court with 7 members elected for a 9-year term; a circuit court with 54 judges (3 for each of 18 judicial districts) elected for 6 years; and four appellate courts—one for Cook County (which also has a “branch appellate court,” both overseen by three circuit judges appointed by the Supreme Court) and three other districts, each with three judges appointed similarly. In Cook County, there is a criminal court and the supreme court of Cook County (originally the supreme court of Chicago) that support the circuit court's work. Additionally, there are county courts, each with one judge serving a four-year term; some counties have probate courts, and counties with more than 500,000 residents have juvenile courts for dealing with delinquent children.

The local government of Illinois includes both county and township systems. The earliest American settlers came from the Southern States and naturally introduced the county system; but the increase of population from the New England and Middle States led to a recognition of township organization in the constitution of 1848, and this form of government, at first prevalent only in the northern counties, is now found in most of the middle and southern counties. Cook county, although it has a township system, is governed, like those counties in which townships are not found, by a Board of Commissioners, elected by the townships and the city of Chicago. A general law of 1872 provides for the organization of municipalities, only cities and villages being recognized, though there are still some “towns” which have failed to reorganize under the new law. City charters are granted only to such municipalities as have a population of at least 1000.

The local government in Illinois consists of both county and township systems. The first American settlers came from the Southern States and naturally introduced the county system; however, the growing population from New England and the Middle States led to the acknowledgment of township organization in the 1848 constitution. This form of government, initially common only in the northern counties, is now seen in most of the middle and southern counties. Cook County, while it has a township system, is governed, much like those counties without townships, by a Board of Commissioners elected by the townships and the city of Chicago. A general law from 1872 outlines the organization of municipalities, recognizing only cities and villages, although some "towns" have not yet reorganized under the new law. City charters are granted only to those municipalities with a population of at least 1,000.

Requirements for suffrage are age of 21 years or more, citizenship in the United States, and residence in the state for one year, in the county ninety days, and the election precinct thirty days preceding the exercise of suffrage. Women are permitted to vote for certain school officials and the trustees of the State University. Disfranchisement is brought about by conviction for bribery, felony or infamous crime, and an attempt to vote after such conviction is a felony.

Requirements for voting are that you must be at least 21 years old, a citizen of the United States, and have lived in the state for a year, in the county for ninety days, and in the election precinct for thirty days before you vote. Women are allowed to vote for some school officials and the trustees of the State University. You lose your voting rights if you are convicted of bribery, a felony, or a serious crime, and trying to vote after such a conviction is considered a felony.

The relation of the state to corporations and industrial problems has been a subject of important legislation. The constitution declares that the state’s rights of eminent domain shall never be so abridged as to prevent the legislature from taking the property and franchises of incorporated companies and subjecting them to the public necessity in a way similar to the treatment of individuals. In 1903 the legislature authorized the municipal ownership of public service corporations, and in 1905 the city of Chicago took steps to acquire ownership of its street railways—a movement which seemed to have spent its force in 1907, when the municipal ownership candidates were defeated in the city’s elections—and in 1902 the right of that city to regulate the price of gas was recognized by the United States Circuit Court of Appeals. Railways organized or doing business in the state are required by the constitution to have a public office where books for public inspection are kept, showing the amount of stock, its owners, and the amount of the road’s liabilities and assets. No railway company may now issue stock except for money, labour, or property actually received and applied to purposes for which the corporation was organized. In 1907 a law went into effect making two cents a mile a maximum railway fare. An anti-trust law of 1893 exempted from the definition of trust combinations those formed by producers of agricultural products and live stock, but the United States Supreme Court in 1902 declared the statute unconstitutional as class legislation. According to a revised mining law of 1899 (subsequently amended), all mines are required to be in charge of certified mine managers, mine examiners, and hoisting engineers, when the services of the engineers are necessary; and every mine must have an escapement shaft distinct from the hoisting shaft. The number of men permitted to work in any mine not having an escapement shaft cannot, in any circumstances, exceed ten during the time in which the escapement or connexion is being completed.

The relationship between the state and corporations, as well as industrial issues, has been the focus of significant legislation. The constitution states that the state's rights of eminent domain should never be limited in a way that stops the legislature from taking the property and franchises of incorporated companies and subjecting them to public necessity, similar to how individuals are treated. In 1903, the legislature allowed for municipal ownership of public service corporations, and in 1905, the city of Chicago began efforts to take ownership of its street railways—a movement that seemed to lose momentum in 1907 when municipal ownership candidates were defeated in the city elections. Additionally, in 1902, the United States Circuit Court of Appeals recognized the city’s right to regulate gas prices. Railways organized or doing business in the state must have a public office where records for public inspection are kept. These records show the amount of stock, its owners, and the railway's liabilities and assets. No railway company can now issue stock except for money, labor, or property that has been actually received and used for the purposes for which the corporation was established. In 1907, a law went into effect setting a maximum railway fare of two cents per mile. An anti-trust law from 1893 exempted agricultural product and livestock producers from being classified as trust combinations, but the United States Supreme Court declared the statute unconstitutional in 1902, ruling it as class legislation. According to a revised mining law from 1899 (which was later amended), all mines must be overseen by certified mine managers, mine examiners, and hoisting engineers when their services are needed; every mine must also have an escapement shaft that is separate from the hoisting shaft. The number of workers allowed in any mine without an escapement shaft cannot exceed ten while the escapement or connection is being completed.

Economic conditions have also led to an increase of administrative boards. A State Civil Service Commission was created by an act of the General Assembly of 1905. A Bureau of Labor Statistics (1879), whose members are styled Commissioners of Labor, makes a study of economic and financial problems and publishes biennial reports; a Mining Board (1883) and an inspector of factories and workshops (since 1893) have for their duty the enforcement of labour legislation. There are also a State Food Commission (1899) and a Live Stock Commission (1885). A Board of Arbitration (1895) has authority to make and publish investigations of all facts relating to strikes and 308 lock-outs, to issue subpoenas for the attendance and testifying of witnesses, and “to adjust strikes or lock-outs by mediation or conciliation, without a formal submission to arbitration.”

Economic conditions have also resulted in more administrative boards. A State Civil Service Commission was established by an act of the General Assembly in 1905. A Bureau of Labor Statistics (1879), whose members are called Commissioners of Labor, studies economic and financial issues and publishes reports every two years; a Mining Board (1883) and an inspector of factories and workshops (since 1893) are responsible for enforcing labor laws. There is also a State Food Commission (1899) and a Live Stock Commission (1885). A Board of Arbitration (1895) has the power to investigate and publish findings related to strikes and lockouts, to issue subpoenas for witnesses to attend and testify, and “to resolve strikes or lockouts through mediation or conciliation, without a formal submission to arbitration.” 308

The employment of children under 14 years of age in factories or mines, and working employees under 16 years of age for more than 60 hours a week, are forbidden by statute. The state has an excellent “Juvenile Court Law,” which came into force on the 1st of July 1899 and has done much good, especially in Chicago. The law recognized that a child should not be treated like a mature malefactor, and provided that there should be no criminal procedure, that the child should not be imprisoned or prosecuted, that his interests should be protected by a probation officer, that he should be discharged unless found dependent, delinquent or truant, and in such case that he should be turned over to the care of an approved individual or charitable society. This law applies to counties having a minimum population of 500,000. The legal rate of interest is 5%, but this may be increased to 7% by written contract. A homestead owned and occupied by a householder having a family is exempt (to the amount of $1000) from liability for debts, except taxes upon, and purchase money for, the same. Personal property to the value of $300 also is exempt from liability for debt. Grounds for divorce are impotence of either party at time of marriage, previous marriage, adultery, wilful desertion for two years, habitual drunkenness, attempt on life, extreme and repeated cruelty, and conviction of felony or other infamous crime. The marriage of cousins of the first degree is declared incestuous and void. In June 1907 the Supreme Court of Illinois declared the sale of liquor not a common right and “sale without license a criminal offence,” thus forcing clubs to close their bars or take out licences.

The employment of children under 14 years old in factories or mines, and the work of employees under 16 years old for more than 60 hours a week, is prohibited by law. The state has a solid “Juvenile Court Law,” which took effect on July 1, 1899, and has been very beneficial, especially in Chicago. The law recognizes that children shouldn’t be treated like adult offenders and ensures that there’s no criminal trial process, that children aren’t imprisoned or prosecuted, that their interests are protected by a probation officer, that they are released unless found dependent, delinquent, or truant, and if that’s the case, they are placed in the care of a qualified individual or charitable organization. This law applies to counties with a minimum population of 500,000. The legal interest rate is 5%, but it can be raised to 7% through a written agreement. A homestead owned and lived in by a householder with a family is exempt (up to $1,000) from debt liability, except for taxes on it and the purchase price. Personal property valued at $300 is also exempt from debt liability. Grounds for divorce include impotence of either partner at the time of marriage, previous marriage, adultery, willful desertion for two years, habitual drunkenness, attempts on life, extreme and repeated cruelty, and conviction of a felony or other serious crime. Marriages between first cousins are considered incestuous and are void. In June 1907, the Supreme Court of Illinois ruled that the sale of alcohol is not a common right and that “selling without a license is a criminal offense,” forcing clubs to either close their bars or get licenses.

The charitable institutions of the state are under the management of local trustees appointed by the governor. They are under the supervision of the Board of State Commissioners of Public Charities (five non-salaried members appointed by the governor); in 1908 there were 18 institutions under its jurisdiction. Of these, seven were hospitals for the insane—six for specific parts of the state, viz. northern at Elgin, eastern at Kankakee, central at Jacksonville, southern at Anna, western at Watertown, and general at South Bartonville, and one at Chester for insane criminals. The others were the State Psychopathic Institute at Kankakee (established in 1907 as part of the insane service) for systematic study of mental and nervous diseases; one at Lincoln having charge of feeble-minded children; two institutions for the blind—a school at Jacksonville and an industrial home at Marshall Boulevard and 19th Street, Chicago; a home for soldiers and sailors (Quincy), one for soldiers’ orphans (Normal), and one for soldiers’ widows (Wilmington); a school for the deaf (Jacksonville), and an eye and ear infirmary (Chicago). The Board of Charities also had supervision of the State Training School for (delinquent) Girls (1893) at Geneva, and of the St Charles School for (delinquent) Boys (1901) at St Charles.

The state's charitable institutions are managed by local trustees appointed by the governor. They are supervised by the Board of State Commissioners of Public Charities, which consists of five non-salaried members appointed by the governor. In 1908, there were 18 institutions under its oversight. Among these, seven were hospitals for the mentally ill—six serving specific regions of the state: northern at Elgin, eastern at Kankakee, central at Jacksonville, southern at Anna, western at Watertown, and a general facility at South Bartonville, along with one in Chester for mentally ill criminals. The other institutions included the State Psychopathic Institute in Kankakee (established in 1907 as part of the mental health services) for the systematic study of mental and nervous disorders; one in Lincoln responsible for children with intellectual disabilities; two institutions for the blind—a school in Jacksonville and an industrial home at Marshall Boulevard and 19th Street in Chicago; a veterans' home in Quincy, one for orphans of soldiers in Normal, and one for widows of soldiers in Wilmington; a school for the deaf in Jacksonville, and an eye and ear infirmary in Chicago. The Board of Charities also oversaw the State Training School for Delinquent Girls (established in 1893) in Geneva and the St. Charles School for Delinquent Boys (established in 1901) in St. Charles.

The trustees of each penal institution are appointed by the governor, and the commissioners of the two penitentiaries and the managers of the state reformatory compose a Board of Prison Industries. There were in 1908 two penitentiaries, one at Joliet and one at Chester, and, in addition to the two reformatory institutions for young offenders under the supervision of the Board of Charities, there is a State Reformatory for boys at Pontiac. The indeterminate sentence and parole systems are important features of the treatment of criminals. All but two of the counties have almshouses. In 1908, in some counties, the care of paupers was still let by contract to the lowest bidder or the superintendent was paid between $1.00 and $1.80—seldom more than $1.50—a week for each patient, and he paid a small (or no) rent on the county farm. Complete state control of the insane and the introduction of modern hospital and curative treatment in the state asylums (or hospitals) are gradually taking the place of county care for the insane and of antiquated custodial treatment in and political control of the state asylums—changes largely due to the action of Governor Deneen, who appointed in 1906 a Board of Charities pledged to reform. By a law of 1905 all employed in such institutions were put on a civil service basis. In 1907-1908, $1,500,000 was spent in rehabilitating old buildings and in buying new land and erecting buildings.

The trustees of each correctional facility are appointed by the governor, and the commissioners of the two prisons along with the managers of the state reformatory form a Board of Prison Industries. In 1908, there were two prisons, one in Joliet and one in Chester, and in addition to the two reform schools for young offenders overseen by the Board of Charities, there is a State Reformatory for boys in Pontiac. The indeterminate sentence and parole systems are key aspects of dealing with criminals. Almost all counties have almshouses. In 1908, in some counties, the care of the poor was still contracted out to the lowest bidder, or the superintendent was paid between $1.00 and $1.80—usually no more than $1.50—a week for each patient, and he paid little (or no) rent on the county farm. Complete state control of the mentally ill and the adoption of modern hospital and therapeutic treatments in state hospitals are gradually replacing county care for the mentally ill and outdated custodial practices along with political control of the state hospitals—changes mainly driven by Governor Deneen, who appointed a Board of Charities in 1906 committed to reform. A law passed in 1905 placed all personnel in such institutions on a civil service basis. In 1907-1908, $1,500,000 was spent renovating old buildings and purchasing new land to construct facilities.

Education.—Public education in Illinois had its genesis in the land of the North-West Territory reserved for educational purposes by the Ordinance of 1787. The first state school law, which provided for state taxation for public schools, was enacted in 1825. The section providing for taxation, however, was repealed, but free schools supported by the sale of land reserved for education and by local taxation were established as early as 1834. In 1855 a second school law providing for a state school tax was enacted, and this is the foundation of the existing public school system; the constitution of 1870 also requires the legislature to provide a thorough and efficient system of public schools. In 1907-1908 the total school revenue, nine-tenths of which was derived from local taxation and the remainder chiefly from a state appropriation (for the year in question, $1,057,000) including the proceeds derived from permanent school funds secured by the gift and sale of public lands on the part of the United States Government, was $39,989,510.22. The attendance in some school of all children from 7 to 16 years of age is compulsory, and of the population of school age (1,500,066) 988,078 were enrolled in public schools. The average length of the school term in 1908 was 7.8 months, and the average monthly salary of teachers was $82.12 for men and $60.76 for women.

Education.—Public education in Illinois started in the North-West Territory, which was set aside for educational purposes by the Ordinance of 1787. The first state school law, allowing for state taxation to fund public schools, was passed in 1825. However, the taxation section was repealed, but free schools supported by the sale of land designated for education and local taxes were established as early as 1834. In 1855, a second school law that included a state school tax was enacted, forming the basis of the current public school system; the constitution of 1870 also mandates that the legislature provides a comprehensive and effective public school system. In the 1907-1908 academic year, total school revenue was $39,989,510.22, with nine-tenths coming from local taxes and the rest primarily from a state allocation (which for that year was $1,057,000), including funds from permanent school resources obtained through the gift and sale of public lands by the United States Government. Attendance in some school for all children aged 7 to 16 is mandatory, and among the school-age population (1,500,066), 988,078 were enrolled in public schools. The average school term length in 1908 was 7.8 months, and the average monthly salary for teachers was $82.12 for men and $60.76 for women.

The state provides for higher education in the University of Illinois, situated in the cities of Champaign and Urbana. It was founded in 1867, through the United States land grant of 1862, as the Illinois Industrial University, and received its present name in 1885; since 1870 it has been co-educational. Associated with the University are the State Laboratory of Natural History, the State Water Survey, the State Geological Survey, the State Entomologist’s Office, and Agricultural and Engineering Experiment Stations. The University confers degrees in arts, science, engineering, agriculture, law, medicine, pharmacy, dentistry, music, and library science; besides the usual subjects, it has a course in ceramics. The University publishes Bulletins of the Agricultural and Engineering Experiment Stations; Reports of the State Water Survey, of the State Natural History Survey, of the State Geological Survey, and of the State Entomologist’s Office; University Studies; and The Journal of English and Germanic Philology. The schools of medicine, pharmacy and dentistry are in Chicago. The faculty in 1907 numbered 408, and the total enrolment of students in 1907-1908 was 4743 (of whom 991 were women), distributed (with 13 duplicates in the classification) as follows: Graduate School, 203; Undergraduate Colleges, 2812; Summer Session, 367; College of Law, 186; College of Medicine, 476; College of Dentistry, 76; School of Pharmacy, 259; Academy, 377. In 1908 the University had a library of 103,000 volumes. The trustees of the institution, who have legislative power only, are the governor, the President of the Board of Agriculture, the State Superintendent of Public Instruction, and nine others elected by the people. There were in 1907 more than forty other universities and colleges in the state, the most important being the University of Chicago, North-western University at Evanston, Illinois Wesleyan University at Bloomington, Knox College, Galesburg, and Illinois College at Jacksonville. There were also six normal colleges, five of them public: the Southern Illinois State Normal College at Carbondale, the Eastern Illinois State Normal School at Charleston, the Western Illinois State Normal School at Macomb, the Chicago Normal School at Chicago, the Northern Illinois State Normal School at DeKalb, and the Illinois State Normal University at Normal.

The state supports higher education at the University of Illinois, located in Champaign and Urbana. It was founded in 1867, thanks to the U.S. land grant of 1862, as the Illinois Industrial University, and adopted its current name in 1885; it has been co-educational since 1870. The University is affiliated with the State Laboratory of Natural History, the State Water Survey, the State Geological Survey, the State Entomologist’s Office, and Agricultural and Engineering Experiment Stations. The University offers degrees in arts, science, engineering, agriculture, law, medicine, pharmacy, dentistry, music, and library science; in addition to the usual subjects, it also has a ceramics program. The University publishes Bulletins from the Agricultural and Engineering Experiment Stations; Reports from the State Water Survey, State Natural History Survey, State Geological Survey, and State Entomologist’s Office; University Studies; and The Journal of English and Germanic Philology. The medical, pharmacy, and dental schools are located in Chicago. In 1907, the faculty consisted of 408 members, and total student enrollment for 1907-1908 was 4,743 (including 991 women), distributed (with 13 duplicates in the classification) as follows: Graduate School, 203; Undergraduate Colleges, 2,812; Summer Session, 367; College of Law, 186; College of Medicine, 476; College of Dentistry, 76; School of Pharmacy, 259; Academy, 377. In 1908, the University had a library with 103,000 volumes. The institution's trustees, who have legislative power only, include the governor, the President of the Board of Agriculture, the State Superintendent of Public Instruction, and nine others elected by the public. In 1907, there were more than forty other universities and colleges in the state, the most notable being the University of Chicago, Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois Wesleyan University in Bloomington, Knox College in Galesburg, and Illinois College in Jacksonville. There were also six normal colleges, five of which were public: Southern Illinois State Normal College in Carbondale, Eastern Illinois State Normal School in Charleston, Western Illinois State Normal School in Macomb, Chicago Normal School in Chicago, Northern Illinois State Normal School in DeKalb, and Illinois State Normal University in Normal.

Finance.—The total receipts for the biennial period ending the 30th of September 1908 were $19,588,842.06, and the disbursements were $21,278,805.27; and on the 1st of October 1908 there was a balance in the treasury of $3,859,263.44. The bonded debt on the same date was $17,500; these bonds ceased to bear interest in 1882, but although called in by the governor they have never been presented for payment. The system of revenue is based upon the general property tax; the local assessment of all real and personal property is required, with the aim of recording all kinds of property upon the assessment rolls. Boards of Revision and Boards of Supervision then equalize the assessments in the counties and townships, while a State Board of Equalization seeks to equalize the total valuation of the various counties. The tendency is for property valuations to decline, the estimated valuation from 1873 to 1893 decreasing 27% in Cook county and 39% in the other counties, while the assessments from 1888 to 1898 were in inverse ratio to the increase of wealth. There has also been great inequality in valuations, the increase of valuation in Cook county made in 309 compliance with the revenue law of 1898 being $200,000,000, while that for the rest of the state was only $4,000,000. Among other sources of revenue are an inheritance tax, which yields approximately $1,000,000 a year, and 7% of the annual gross earnings of the Illinois Central railway, given in return for the state aid in the construction of the road. The constitution prohibits the state from lending its credit or making appropriations in aid of any corporation, association or individual, and from constructing internal improvements, and the counties, townships, and other political units cannot incur indebtedness in excess of 5% of their assessed property valuation. The legislature may not contract a debt of more than $250,000 except to suppress treason, war or invasion, and no legislative appropriation may extend longer than the succeeding legislature. General banking laws must be submitted to the people for ratification.

Finance.—The total income for the two-year period ending September 30, 1908, was $19,588,842.06, while the expenses were $21,278,805.27. On October 1, 1908, the treasury had a balance of $3,859,263.44. The bonded debt on that same date was $17,500; these bonds stopped earning interest in 1882, but even though the governor requested them to be paid, they have never been presented. The revenue system relies on a general property tax, which includes local assessments of all real and personal property aimed at cataloging all types of property on the assessment rolls. Boards of Revision and Boards of Supervision work to equalize assessments in counties and townships, while a State Board of Equalization attempts to standardize the total valuation across different counties. Property valuations tend to decline, with estimated values dropping by 27% in Cook County and 39% in other counties from 1873 to 1893. Furthermore, assessments from 1888 to 1898 did not keep pace with the increase in wealth. There has also been significant inequality in valuations; for instance, the increase in Cook County’s valuation, made in accordance with the revenue law of 1898, was $200,000,000, while the rest of the state saw only a $4,000,000 increase. Other revenue sources include an inheritance tax that generates about $1,000,000 annually and 7% of the Illinois Central railway's gross annual earnings, which is a return for the state’s assistance in building the road. The constitution prohibits the state from lending its credit or making appropriations to any corporation, association, or individual, and from undertaking internal improvements. Counties, townships, and other governmental units cannot incur debt exceeding 5% of their assessed property value. The legislature is not allowed to contract more than $250,000 in debt except for suppressing treason, war, or invasion, and no legislative appropriation can last beyond the next legislature. General banking laws must be approved by the public.

History.—Illinois is the French form of Iliniwek, the name of a confederacy of Algonquian tribes. The first exploration by Europeans was that of the French. In 1659 Pierre Radisson and Medard Chouart des Groseilliers seem to have reached the upper Mississippi. It is certain that in 1673 part of the region known as the Illinois country was explored to some extent by two Frenchmen, Louis Joliet and Jacques Marquette, a Jesuit father. Marquette, under orders to begin a mission to the Indians, who were known to the French by their visits to the French settlements in the Lake Superior region, and Joliet, who acted under orders of Jean Talon, Intendant of Canada, ascended the Fox river, crossed the portage between it and the Wisconsin river, and followed that stream to the Mississippi, which they descended to a point below the mouth of the Arkansas. On their return journey they ascended the Illinois river as far as Lake Peoria; they then crossed the portage to Lake Michigan, and in 1675 Marquette founded a mission at the Indian town of Kaskaskia, near the present Utica, Ill. In 1679 the explorer La Salle, desiring to find the mouth of the Mississippi and to extend the domain of France in America, ascended the St Joseph river, crossed the portage separating it from the Kankakee, which he descended to the Illinois, and built in the neighbourhood of Lake Peoria a fort which he called Fort Crevecœur. The vicissitudes of the expedition, the necessity for him to return to Canada for tools to construct a large river-boat, and opposition in Canada to his plans, prevented him from reaching the mouth of the Illinois until the 6th of February 1682. After such preliminary explorations, the French made permanent settlements, which had their origin in the missions of the Jesuits and the bartering posts of the French traders. Chief of these were Kaskaskia, established near the mouth of the Kaskaskia river, about 1720; Cahokia, a little below the mouth of the Missouri river, founded at about the same time; and Fort Chartres, on the Mississippi between Cahokia and Kaskaskia, founded in 1720 to be a link in a chain of fortifications intended to extend from the St Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico. A monument of the labours of the missionaries is a manuscript dictionary (c. 1720) of the language of the Illinois, with catechism and prayers, probably the work of Father Le Boulanger.

History.—Illinois comes from the French version of Iliniwek, which is the name of a confederacy of Algonquian tribes. The first European exploration was undertaken by the French. In 1659, Pierre Radisson and Medard Chouart des Groseilliers are believed to have reached the upper Mississippi. It is known that in 1673, parts of the area recognized as the Illinois country were explored to some degree by two Frenchmen, Louis Joliet and Jacques Marquette, a Jesuit priest. Marquette, sent to start a mission to the Indians known to the French from their visits to the French settlements in the Lake Superior area, and Joliet, who was working under orders from Jean Talon, the Intendant of Canada, traveled up the Fox River, crossed the portage to the Wisconsin River, and followed it to the Mississippi, which they navigated down to a point below the Arkansas River's mouth. On their way back, they traveled up the Illinois River as far as Lake Peoria; they then crossed the portage to Lake Michigan, and in 1675, Marquette established a mission at the Indian town of Kaskaskia, located near present-day Utica, Illinois. In 1679, the explorer La Salle, wanting to discover the mouth of the Mississippi and expand France's territory in America, traveled up the St. Joseph River, crossed the portage to the Kankakee River, which he descended to the Illinois River, and built a fort near Lake Peoria, naming it Fort Crevecœur. The challenges of the expedition, the need to return to Canada for supplies to build a large riverboat, and resistance in Canada to his plans delayed his arrival at the mouth of the Illinois until February 6, 1682. Following these initial explorations, the French established permanent settlements that grew out of Jesuit missions and trading posts. The main ones were Kaskaskia, founded near the mouth of the Kaskaskia River around 1720; Cahokia, located just below the Missouri River's mouth, founded around the same time; and Fort Chartres, established in 1720 on the Mississippi between Cahokia and Kaskaskia, to serve as part of a series of fortifications meant to connect from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico. A testament to the missionaries' work is a manuscript dictionary (c. 1720) of the Illinois language, which includes catechism and prayers, likely compiled by Father Le Boulanger.

In 1712 the Illinois river was made the N. boundary of the French province of Louisiana, which was granted to Antoine Crozat (1655-1738), and in 1721 the seventh civil and military district of that province was named Illinois, which included more than one-half of the present state, the country between the Arkansas river and the line 43° N. lat., as well as the country between the Rocky Mountains and the Mississippi; but in 1723 the region around the Wabash river was formed into a separate district. The trade of the Illinois country was now diverted to the settlements in the lower Mississippi river, but the French, although they were successful in gaining the confidence and friendship of the Indians, failed to develop the resources of the country. By the treaty of Paris, 1763, France ceded to Great Britain her claims to the country between the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, but on account of the resistance of Pontiac, a chief of the Ottawas who drew into conspiracy most of the tribes between the Ottawa river and the lower Mississippi, the English were not able to take possession of the country until 1765, when the French flag was finally lowered at Fort Chartres.

In 1712, the Illinois River was established as the northern boundary of the French province of Louisiana, which was granted to Antoine Crozat (1655-1738). By 1721, the seventh civil and military district of that province was named Illinois, covering more than half of what is now the state, including the area between the Arkansas River and the 43° N latitude line, as well as the land between the Rocky Mountains and the Mississippi. However, in 1723, the area around the Wabash River was made a separate district. The trade in the Illinois region was redirected to the settlements along the lower Mississippi River, but although the French successfully earned the trust and friendship of the Native Americans, they failed to develop the area's resources. In the Treaty of Paris in 1763, France ceded its claims to the land between the Ohio and Mississippi rivers to Great Britain. However, due to the resistance led by Pontiac, a chief of the Ottawas who stirred a conspiracy among many tribes from the Ottawa River to the lower Mississippi, the English were unable to take possession of the region until 1765, when the French flag was finally lowered at Fort Chartres.

The policy of the British government was not favourable to the economic development of the newly-acquired country, since it was feared that its prosperity might react against the trade and industry of Great Britain. But in 1769 and the succeeding years of English control, this policy was relaxed, and immigration from the seaboard colonies, especially from Virginia, began. In 1771 the people of the Illinois country, through a meeting at Kaskaskia, demanded a form of self-government similar to that of Connecticut. The petition was rejected by General Thomas Gage; and Thomas Legge, earl of Dartmouth (1731-1801), Secretary of State for Plantations and President of the Board of Trade, drew up a plan of government for Illinois in which all officials were appointed by the crown. This, however, was never operative, for in 1774, by the famous Quebec Act, the Illinois country was annexed to the province of Quebec, and at the same time the jurisdiction of the French civil law was recognized. These facts explain the considerable sympathy in Illinois for the colonial cause in the War of Independence. Most of the inhabitants, however, were French, and these were Loyalists. Consequently, the British government withdrew their troops from the Illinois country. The English authorities instigated the Indians to make attacks upon the frontiers of the American colonies, and this led to one of the most important events in the history of the Illinois country, the capture of the British posts of Cahokia and Kaskaskia in 1778, and in the following year of Vincennes (Indiana), by George Rogers Clark (q.v.), who acted under orders of Patrick Henry, Governor of Virginia. These conquests had much to do with the securing by the United States of the country W. of the Alleghanies and N. of the Ohio in the treaty of Paris, 1783.

The British government's policy was not supportive of the economic growth of the newly-acquired territory, as there were concerns that its success might negatively impact trade and industry in Great Britain. However, starting in 1769 and continuing through the following years of British control, this policy eased, and immigration from the coastal colonies, particularly Virginia, began. In 1771, the residents of the Illinois territory convened in Kaskaskia and requested a form of self-government like that of Connecticut. General Thomas Gage rejected the petition, and Thomas Legge, the Earl of Dartmouth (1731-1801), who was the Secretary of State for Plantations and President of the Board of Trade, created a government plan for Illinois where all officials would be appointed by the crown. This plan, however, was never put into action, as in 1774, with the notable Quebec Act, Illinois was annexed to the province of Quebec, and the jurisdiction of French civil law was acknowledged. These circumstances explain the strong support for the colonial cause during the War of Independence among the people of Illinois. Most inhabitants were French, and they were Loyalists. As a result, the British government pulled their troops out of the Illinois territory. The British authorities encouraged the Native Americans to launch attacks on the frontiers of the American colonies, which led to one of the most significant events in Illinois history: the capture of the British posts at Cahokia and Kaskaskia in 1778, and the following year, at Vincennes (Indiana), by George Rogers Clark (q.v.), who was acting on the orders of Patrick Henry, Governor of Virginia. These victories played a crucial role in the United States securing the land west of the Allegheny Mountains and north of the Ohio River in the Treaty of Paris, 1783.

The Virginia House of Delegates, in 1778, extended the civil jurisdiction of Virginia to the north-west, and appointed Captain John Todd (1750-1782), of Kentucky, governor of the entire territory north of the Ohio, organized as “The County of Illinois”; the judges of the courts at Cahokia, Kaskaskia, and Vincennes, who had been appointed under the British administration, were now chosen by election; but this government was confined to the old French settlements and was entirely inefficient. In 1787, Virginia and the other states having relinquished their claims to the country west of the Alleghanies, the North-West Territory was organized by Congress by the famous Ordinance of 1787. Two years later St Clair county was formed out of the S.W. part of the Illinois country, while the E. portion and the settlements around Vincennes (Indiana) were united into the county of Knox, and in 1795 the S. part of St Clair county was organized into Randolph county, with Kaskaskia as the seat of administration. In 1800 the Illinois country was included in the Territory of Indiana, and in 1809 the W. part of Indiana from Vincennes N. to Canada was organized as the Territory of Illinois; it included, besides the present territory of the state, all of Wisconsin except the N. part of the Green Bay peninsula, a considerable part of Michigan, and all of Minnesota E. of the Mississippi. In 1812, by permission of Congress, a representative assembly was chosen, a Territorial constitution was adopted, and the Territorial delegate in Congress was elected directly by the people.

The Virginia House of Delegates, in 1778, expanded Virginia’s civil jurisdiction to the northwest and appointed Captain John Todd (1750-1782) from Kentucky as the governor of the entire area north of the Ohio River, organized as “The County of Illinois.” The judges for the courts in Cahokia, Kaskaskia, and Vincennes, who had been appointed during British rule, were now elected. However, this government only covered the old French settlements and was largely ineffective. In 1787, after Virginia and the other states gave up their claims to the land west of the Alleghanies, Congress organized the North-West Territory through the famous Ordinance of 1787. Two years later, St. Clair County was created from the southwestern part of the Illinois territory, while the eastern portion and the settlements around Vincennes (Indiana) were combined into Knox County. In 1795, the southern part of St. Clair County became Randolph County, with Kaskaskia as the administrative center. In 1800, the Illinois territory was included in the Territory of Indiana, and in 1809, the western part of Indiana, stretching from Vincennes north to Canada, was organized as the Territory of Illinois; this area included not just what is now the state of Illinois but also all of Wisconsin except for the northern part of the Green Bay peninsula, a significant portion of Michigan, and all of Minnesota east of the Mississippi. In 1812, with Congress's approval, a representative assembly was elected, a Territorial constitution was adopted, and the Territorial delegate to Congress was chosen directly by the people.

In 1818 Illinois became a state of the American Union, the Enabling Act fixing the line 42° 30’ as the N. boundary, instead of that provided by the Ordinance of 1787, which passed through the S. bend of Lake Michigan. The reason given for this change was that if the Mississippi and Ohio rivers were the only outlets of Illinois trade, the interests of the state would become identified with those of the southern states; but if an outlet by Lake Michigan were provided, closer relations would be established with the northern and middle states, and so “additional security for the perpetuity of the Union” would be afforded.

In 1818, Illinois joined the United States, with the Enabling Act setting the northern boundary at 42° 30’, instead of the line established by the Ordinance of 1787, which ran through the southern bend of Lake Michigan. The reason for this change was that if Illinois’s trade only relied on the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, the state's interests would align with those of the southern states. However, if an outlet through Lake Michigan was created, it would foster closer ties with the northern and midwestern states, ensuring “additional security for the longevity of the Union.”

Among the first problems of the new state were those relating to lands and Indians. Throughout the Territorial period there was conflict between French and English land claims. In 1804 Congress established land offices at Kaskaskia and Vincennes to examine existing claims and to eliminate conflict with future grants; in 1812 new offices were established at 310 Shawneetown and Edwardsville for the sale of public lands; and in 1816 more than 500,000 acres were sold. In 1818, however, many citizens were in debt for their lands, and “squatters” invaded the rights of settlers. Congress therefore reduced the price of land from $2 to $1.25 per acre, and adopted the policy of pre-emption, preference being given to the claims of existing settlers. The Indians, however, resisted measures looking toward the extinguishment of their claims to the country. Their dissatisfaction with the treaties signed in 1795 and 1804 caused them to espouse the British cause in the War of 1812, and in 1812 they overpowered a body of soldiers and settlers who had abandoned Fort Dearborn (See Chicago). For a number of years after the end of the conflict, the Indians were comparatively peaceful; but in 1831 the delay of the Sauk and Foxes in withdrawing from the lands in northern Illinois, caused Governor John Reynolds (1788-1865) to call out the militia. The following year Black Hawk, a Sauk leader, opened an unsuccessful war in northern Illinois and Wisconsin (the Black Hawk War); and by 1833 all Indians in Illinois had been removed from the state.

Among the first issues of the new state were those related to land and Native Americans. Throughout the Territorial period, there was conflict between French and English land claims. In 1804, Congress set up land offices at Kaskaskia and Vincennes to review existing claims and reduce conflicts with future grants; in 1812, new offices were opened at 310 Shawneetown and Edwardsville for the sale of public lands; and in 1816, over 500,000 acres were sold. However, by 1818, many citizens were in debt for their land, and “squatters” infringed on the rights of settlers. Congress then lowered the price of land from $2 to $1.25 per acre and adopted a pre-emption policy, giving preference to the claims of existing settlers. The Native Americans, however, resisted efforts to extinguish their claims to the land. Their dissatisfaction with the treaties signed in 1795 and 1804 led them to support the British in the War of 1812, and in 1812 they overpowered a group of soldiers and settlers who had abandoned Fort Dearborn (See Chicago). For several years after the war, the Native Americans were relatively peaceful; but in 1831, the delay of the Sauk and Foxes in leaving their lands in northern Illinois prompted Governor John Reynolds (1788-1865) to call in the militia. The following year, Black Hawk, a Sauk leader, initiated an unsuccessful war in northern Illinois and Wisconsin (the Black Hawk War); by 1833, all Native Americans in Illinois had been removed from the state.

The financial and industrial policy of the state was unfortunate. Money being scarce, the legislature in 1819 chartered a state bank which was authorized to do business on the credit of the state. In a few years the bank failed, and the state in 1831 borrowed money to redeem the depreciated notes issued by the bank. A second state bank was chartered in 1835; two years later it suspended payment, and in 1843 the legislature provided for its liquidation. The state also undertook to establish a system of internal improvements, granting a loan for the construction of the Illinois and Michigan canal in 1836, and in 1837 appropriating $10,000,000 for the building of railroads and other improvements. The experiment proved unsuccessful; the state’s credit declined and a heavy debt was incurred, and in 1840 the policy of aiding public improvements was abandoned. Through the efforts of Governor Thomas Ford (1800-1850) a movement to repudiate the state debt was defeated, and a plan was adopted by which the entire debt could be reduced without excessive taxation, and by 1880 practically the entire debt was extinguished.

The state’s financial and industrial policy was unfortunate. With money being tight, the legislature chartered a state bank in 1819 that could operate on the state’s credit. A few years later, the bank failed, and in 1831 the state borrowed money to cover the devalued notes issued by the bank. A second state bank was established in 1835; two years later it stopped making payments, and in 1843 the legislature arranged for its liquidation. The state also attempted to set up a system of internal improvements, giving a loan for the construction of the Illinois and Michigan Canal in 1836, and in 1837 allocating $10,000,000 for building railroads and other improvements. This effort turned out to be unsuccessful; the state’s credit dropped and a significant debt was incurred, leading to the abandonment of the policy to support public improvements in 1840. Thanks to Governor Thomas Ford’s (1800-1850) efforts, a movement to reject the state debt was defeated, and a plan was put in place to reduce the entire debt without excessive taxes, resulting in the virtually complete extinguishment of the debt by 1880.

A notable incident in the history of the state was the immigration of the Mormons from Missouri, about 1840. Their principal settlements were in Hancock county. They succeeded in securing favours from the legislature, and their city of Nauvoo had courts and a military organization that was independent of state control. Political intrigue, claims of independence from the state, as well as charges of polygamy and lawless conduct, aroused such intense opposition to the sect that in 1844 a civil war broke out in Hancock county which resulted in the murder of Joseph Smith and the removal of the Mormons from Illinois in 1846.

A significant event in the state’s history was the migration of the Mormons from Missouri around 1840. Their main settlements were in Hancock County. They managed to gain favors from the legislature, and their city of Nauvoo had its own courts and military organization that operated independently of state control. Political maneuvering, demands for independence from the state, and accusations of polygamy and unruly behavior sparked such strong opposition to the group that in 1844, a civil war erupted in Hancock County, leading to the murder of Joseph Smith and the Mormons' expulsion from Illinois in 1846.

The slavery question, however, was the problem of lasting political importance. Slaves had been brought into the Illinois country by the French, and Governor Arthur St Clair (1734-1818) interpreted the article of the Ordinance of 1787, which forbade slavery in the North-West Territory, as a prohibition of the introduction of slaves into the Territory, not an interference with existing conditions. The idea also arose that while negroes could not become slaves, they could be held as indentured servants, and such servitude was recognized in the Indiana Code of 1803, the Illinois constitution of 1818, and Statutes of 1819; indeed there would probably have been a recognition of slavery in the constitution of 1818 had it not been feared that such recognition would have prevented the admission of the state to the Union. In 1823 the legislature referred to the people a resolution for a constitutional convention to amend the constitution. The aim, not expressed, was the legalization of slavery. Although a majority of the public men of the state, indeed probably a majority of the entire population, was either born in the Southern states or descended from Southern people, the resolution of the legislature was rejected, the leader of the opposition being Governor Edward Coles (1786-1868), a Virginia slave-holder, who had freed his slaves on coming to Illinois, and at least one half the votes against the proposed amendment of the constitution were cast by men of Southern birth. The opposition to slavery, however, was at first economic, not philanthropic. In 1837 there was only one abolition society in the state, but chiefly through the agitation of Elijah P. Lovejoy (see Alton), the abolition sentiment grew. In 1842 the moral issue had become political, and the Liberty Party was organized, which in 1848 united with the Free Soil Party; but as the Whig Party approved the policy of non-extension of slavery, these parties did not succeed so well united as under separate existence. In 1854, however, the Liberty and Free Soil parties, the Democrats opposed to the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, and some Whigs united, secured a majority in the legislature, and elected Lyman Trumbull United States senator. Two years later these elements formally organized as the Republican Party, though that name had been used locally in 1854, and elected their candidates for state offices. This was the first time that the Democratic Party had been defeated, its organization having been in control since the admission of Illinois to the Union. An important influence in this political revolution was a change in the character of the population. Until 1848 the Southern element predominated in the population, but after that year the immigration from the Northern states was greater than that from the South, and the foreign element also increased.5 The opposition to slavery continued to be political and economic rather than philanthropic. The constitution of 1848, which abolished slavery, also forbade the immigration of slaves into the state.6 In 1858 occurred the famous contest for the office of United States senator between Stephen A. Douglas (Democrat) and Abraham Lincoln (Republican). Douglas was elected, but the vote showed that Illinois was becoming more Northern in sympathy, and two years later Lincoln, then candidate for the presidency, carried the state.

The issue of slavery was a significant political concern. Slaves had been brought into Illinois by the French, and Governor Arthur St Clair (1734-1818) viewed the article in the Ordinance of 1787 that banned slavery in the North-West Territory as a prohibition on bringing in new slaves, rather than interfering with the situation already in place. There was also the belief that while Black people couldn't be enslaved, they could be held as indentured servants, which was acknowledged in the Indiana Code of 1803, the Illinois constitution of 1818, and the Statutes of 1819; in fact, slavery might have been recognized in the 1818 constitution if there hadn't been concerns that it would hinder the state's admission to the Union. In 1823, the legislature put a resolution to the public for a constitutional convention to amend the constitution. The unspoken goal was to legalize slavery. Although most of the prominent figures in the state, and likely most of the population, were born in the Southern states or were descended from Southerners, the legislature's resolution was voted down, led by Governor Edward Coles (1786-1868), a Virginia slave owner who had freed his slaves upon moving to Illinois. At least half of the votes against the proposed constitutional amendment came from men born in the South. Initially, the opposition to slavery was more about economic concerns than moral ones. In 1837, there was only one abolition society in the state, but thanks to the efforts of Elijah P. Lovejoy (see Alton), abolitionist sentiment began to grow. By 1842, the moral debate became political, leading to the formation of the Liberty Party, which in 1848 merged with the Free Soil Party. However, since the Whig Party supported the non-extension of slavery, the united effort wasn't as successful as when they were separate. In 1854, the Liberty and Free Soil parties, along with Democrats opposed to the Kansas-Nebraska Bill and some Whigs, came together to secure a majority in the legislature and elected Lyman Trumbull as a United States senator. Two years later, these groups officially organized as the Republican Party, although the name had been used locally in 1854, and they nominated their candidates for state offices. This marked the first time the Democratic Party was defeated since its establishment, having been in control since Illinois joined the Union. A significant factor in this political shift was the demographic change in the population. Until 1848, the Southern element dominated, but after that, immigration from the Northern states surpassed that from the South, and the foreign population also increased.5 The opposition to slavery remained politically and economically motivated rather than philanthropic. The constitution of 1848, which abolished slavery, also prohibited the immigration of slaves into the state.6 In 1858, the famous contest for the United States Senate took place between Stephen A. Douglas (Democrat) and Abraham Lincoln (Republican). Douglas was elected, but the vote indicated that Illinois was leaning more Northern in its sympathies, and two years later, Lincoln, who was then running for president, won the state.

The policy of Illinois in the early period of secession was one of marked loyalty to the Union; even in the S. part of the state, where there was a strong feeling against national interference with slavery, the majority of the people had no sympathy with the pro-slavery men in their efforts to dissolve the Union. The legislature of 1861 provided for a war fund of $2,000,000; and Capt. James H. Stokes (1814-1890) of Chicago transferred a large amount of munitions of war from St Louis, where the secession sentiment was strong, to Alton. The state contributed 255,092 men to the Federal armies. From 1862-1864, however, there was considerable opposition to a continuance of the war. This was at first political; the legislature of 1862 was Democratic, and for political purposes that body adopted resolutions against further conflict, and recommended an armistice, and a national convention to conclude peace. The same year a convention, whose duty was to revise the constitution, met. It declared that the law which called it into being was no longer binding, and that it was supreme in all matters incident to amending the constitution. Among its acts was the assumption of the right of ratifying a proposed amendment to the constitution of the United States which prohibited Congress from interfering with the institution of slavery within a state, although the right of ratification belonged to the legislature. The convention also inserted clauses preventing negroes and mulattoes from immigrating into the state and from voting and holding office; and although the constitution as a whole was rejected by the people, these clauses were ratified. In 1863 more pronounced opposition to the policy of the National Government developed. A mass meeting, which met at Springfield in July, at the instance of 311 the Democratic Party, adopted resolutions that condemned the suspension of the writ of Habeas Corpus, endorsed the doctrine of state sovereignty, demanded a national assembly to determine terms of peace, and asked President Lincoln to withdraw the proclamation that emancipated the slaves, and so to permit the people of Illinois to fight only for “Union, the Constitution and the enforcement of the laws.” The Knights of the Golden Circle, and other secret societies, whose aims were the promulgation of state sovereignty and the extension of aid to the Confederate states, began to flourish, and it is said that in 1864 there were 50,000 members of the Sons of Liberty in the state. Captain T. Henry Hines, of the Confederate army, was appointed by Jefferson Davis to co-operate with these societies. For a time his headquarters were in Chicago, and an elaborate attempt to liberate Confederate prisoners in Chicago (known as the Camp Douglas Conspiracy) was thwarted by a discovery of the plans. In the elections of 1864 the Republicans and Union Democrats united, and after an exciting campaign they were successful. The new legislature was the first among the legislatures of the states to ratify (on the 1st of February 1865) the Thirteenth Amendment.

The policy of Illinois during the early days of secession was characterized by strong loyalty to the Union; even in the southern part of the state, where there was significant opposition to national interference with slavery, most people did not support the pro-slavery advocates in their attempts to break away from the Union. The legislature of 1861 set up a war fund of $2,000,000, and Capt. James H. Stokes (1814-1890) from Chicago moved a large amount of war supplies from St. Louis, where secessionist sentiment was strong, to Alton. The state contributed 255,092 men to the Federal armies. However, from 1862 to 1864, there was considerable resistance to continuing the war. At first, it was political; the legislature of 1862 was Democratic, and for political reasons, this body adopted resolutions against further fighting, recommending an armistice and a national convention to establish peace. That same year, a convention tasked with revising the constitution convened. It declared that the law that established it was no longer valid and that it held supreme authority over all matters related to amending the constitution. Among its actions was claiming the right to ratify a proposed amendment to the U.S. Constitution that would prevent Congress from interfering with slavery in a state, even though that right belonged to the legislature. The convention also included clauses that barred African Americans and mixed-race individuals from immigrating to the state and from voting or holding office; although the overall constitution was rejected by the people, these clauses were ratified. In 1863, more pronounced opposition to the National Government's policies emerged. A mass meeting held in Springfield in July, initiated by the Democratic Party, passed resolutions condemning the suspension of habeas corpus, supporting the idea of state sovereignty, calling for a national assembly to set the terms for peace, and urging President Lincoln to retract the emancipation proclamation so that the people of Illinois could fight only for "Union, the Constitution, and the enforcement of the laws." The Knights of the Golden Circle and other secret societies that aimed to promote state sovereignty and aid the Confederate states began to thrive, and it’s reported that in 1864, there were 50,000 members of the Sons of Liberty in the state. Captain T. Henry Hines of the Confederate army was appointed by Jefferson Davis to work with these societies. For a time, his headquarters were in Chicago, where a detailed plan to free Confederate prisoners (known as the Camp Douglas Conspiracy) was thwarted after the plans were discovered. In the 1864 elections, Republicans and Union Democrats came together, and after an intense campaign, they were victorious. The new legislature was the first among state legislatures to ratify the Thirteenth Amendment on February 1, 1865.

From the close of the Civil War until the end of the 19th century the Republican Party was generally dominant, but the trend of political development was not without interest. In 1872 many prominent men of the state joined the Liberal Republican Party, among them Governor John M. Palmer, Senator Lyman Trumbull and Gustavus Koerner (1809-1896), one of the most prominent representatives of the German element in Illinois. The organization united locally, as in national politics, with the Democratic Party, with equally ineffective results. Economic depression gave the Granger Movement considerable popularity, and an outgrowth of the Granger organization was the Independent Reform Party, of 1874, which advocated retrenchment of expenses, the state regulation of railways and a tariff for revenue only. A Democratic Liberal Party was organized in the same year, one of its leaders being Governor Palmer; consequently no party had a majority in the legislature elected in 1874. In 1876 the Greenback Party, the successor in Illinois of the Independent Reform Party, secured a strong following; although its candidate for governor was endorsed by the Democrats, the Republicans regained control of the state administration.

From the end of the Civil War until the late 19th century, the Republican Party was mostly in charge, but the political scene was still quite dynamic. In 1872, many key figures from the state joined the Liberal Republican Party, including Governor John M. Palmer, Senator Lyman Trumbull, and Gustavus Koerner (1809-1896), a prominent representative of the German community in Illinois. This organization teamed up locally and nationally with the Democratic Party, but with similarly ineffective outcomes. Economic downturns led to the Granger Movement becoming quite popular, which eventually gave rise to the Independent Reform Party in 1874. This party pushed for cutting expenses, state regulation of railroads, and a tariff solely for revenue. That same year, a Democratic Liberal Party was formed, with Governor Palmer among its leaders; as a result, no party held a majority in the legislature elected in 1874. In 1876, the Greenback Party, which followed the Independent Reform Party in Illinois, gained significant support; even though its candidate for governor received Democratic backing, the Republicans regained control of the state administration.

The relations between capital and labour have resulted in serious conditions, the number of strikes from 1880-1901 having been 2640, and the number of lock-outs 95. In 1885 the governor found it necessary to use the state militia to suppress riots in Will and Cook counties occasioned by the strikes of quarrymen, and the following year the militia was again called out to suppress riots in St Clair and Cook counties caused by the widespread strike of railway employees. The most noted instance of military interference was in 1894, when President Grover Cleveland sent United States troops to Chicago to prevent strikers and rioters from interfering with the transmission of the United States mails.

The relationship between capital and labor has led to serious issues, with 2,640 strikes and 95 lockouts occurring between 1880 and 1901. In 1885, the governor found it necessary to deploy the state militia to control riots in Will and Cook counties caused by the strikes of quarry workers. The following year, the militia was called out again to manage riots in St. Clair and Cook counties due to the widespread strike of railway employees. The most notable instance of military intervention was in 1894 when President Grover Cleveland sent U.S. troops to Chicago to stop strikers and rioters from disrupting the delivery of United States mail.

Municipal problems have also reacted upon state politics. From 1897 to 1903 the efforts of the Street Railway Companies of Chicago to extend their franchise, and of the city of Chicago to secure municipal control of its street railway system, resulted in the statute of 1903, which provided for municipal ownership. But the proposed issue under this law of bonds with which Chicago was to purchase or construct railways would have increased the city’s bonded indebtedness beyond its constitutional limit, and was therefore declared unconstitutional in April 1907 by the supreme court of the state.

Municipal issues have also influenced state politics. From 1897 to 1903, the attempts by the Street Railway Companies of Chicago to expand their franchise, and the city of Chicago's push for municipal control over its street railway system, led to the 1903 statute that allowed for municipal ownership. However, the proposed bond issue under this law, meant for Chicago to buy or build railways, would have pushed the city’s bonded debt beyond its constitutional limit, and was declared unconstitutional by the state’s supreme court in April 1907.

A law of 1901 provided for a system of initiative whereby any question of public policy might be submitted to popular vote upon the signature of a written petition therefor by one-tenth of the registered voters of the state; such a petition must be filed at least 60 days before the election day when it is to be voted upon, and not more than three questions by initiative may be voted on at the same election; to become operative a measure must receive a majority of all votes cast in the election. Under this act, in 1902, there was a favourable vote (451,319 to 76,975) for the adoption of measures requisite to securing the election of United States senators by popular and direct vote, and in 1903 the legislature of the state (which in 1891 had asked Congress to submit such an amendment) adopted a joint resolution asking Congress to call a convention to propose such an amendment to the Federal Constitution; in 1904 there was a majority of all the votes cast in the election for an amendment to the primary laws providing that voters may vote at state primaries under the Australian ballot. The direct primary law, however, which was passed immediately afterwards by the legislature, was declared unconstitutional by the supreme court of the state, as were a second law of the same sort passed soon afterwards and a third law of 1908, which provided for direct nominations of all officers and an “advisory” nomination of United States senators.

A law from 1901 allowed for a system of initiative where any public policy question could be put to a popular vote if a written petition was signed by one-tenth of the registered voters in the state. This petition had to be submitted at least 60 days before the election day when the vote would take place, and no more than three initiative questions could be voted on in the same election. To take effect, a measure needed to receive a majority of all votes cast. Under this law, in 1902, there was strong support (451,319 to 76,975) for measures needed to ensure the election of United States senators through popular and direct vote. In 1903, the state legislature (which had asked Congress in 1891 to propose such an amendment) passed a joint resolution requesting Congress to call a convention to propose this amendment to the Federal Constitution. In 1904, a majority of the votes cast supported an amendment to the primary laws allowing voters to use the Australian ballot in state primaries. However, the direct primary law that was passed shortly after by the legislature was deemed unconstitutional by the state's supreme court, as were a second similar law passed shortly afterward and a third law from 1908 that called for direct nominations of all officers and an “advisory” nomination of United States senators.

American Governors of Illinois

Illinois Governors

Territorial.
Ninian Edwards 1809-1818
State.
Shadrach Bond 1818-1822 Democrat
Edward Coles 1822-1826   ”
Ninian Edwards 1826-1830   ”
John Reynolds 1830-1834   ”
Wm. L. D. Ewing (acting) 1834   ”
Joseph Duncan 1834-1838   ”
Thomas Carlin 1838-1842   ”
Thomas Ford 1842-1846   ”
Augustus C. French 1846-18537   ”
Joel A. Matteson 1853-1857   ”
William H. Bissell 1857-1860 Republican
John Wood (acting) 1860-1861   ”
Richard Yates 1861-1865   ”
Richard J. Oglesby 1865-1869   ”
John M. Palmer 1869-1873   ”
Richard J. Oglesby 1873   ”
John L. Beveridge (acting) 1873-1877   ”
Shelby M. Cullom 1877-1883   ”
John M. Hamilton (acting) 1883-1885   ”
Richard J. Oglesby 1885-1889   ”
Joseph W. Fifer 1889-1893   ”
John P. Altgeld 1893-1897 Democrat
John R. Tanner 1897-1901 Republican
Richard Yates 1901-1905   ”
Charles S. Deneen 1905-   ”

Bibliography.—There is no complete bibliography of the varied and extensive literature relating to Illinois; but Richard Bowker’s State Publications, part ii. (New York, 1902), and the chapters of E. B. Greene’s The Government of Illinois (New York, 1904) contain useful lists of documents, monographs and books. Physiography is well described in The Illinois Glacial Lobe (U.S. Geological Survey, Monograph, xxxviii.) and The Water Resources of Illinois (U.S. Geological Survey, Annual Report, xviii.). The Illinois State Laboratory of Natural History, connected with the State University, has published S. A. Forbes and R. E. Richardson’s Fishes of Illinois (Urbana, 1909). Information concerning economic conditions may be derived from the volumes of the Twelfth Census of the United States, which treat of Agriculture, Manufactures and Mines and Quarries: a summary of agricultural conditions may be found in Census Bulletin No. 213. Constitutional and administrative problems are discussed in Elliott Anthony’s Constitutional History of Illinois; Greene’s The Government of Illinois, and H. P. Judson’s The Government of Illinois (New York, 1900). Among the reports of the state officials, those of the Railroad and Ware House Commission, of the Bureau of Labor Statistics, and of the Commissioners of Charity are especially valuable. There is an historical study of the problem of taxation, entitled, “History of the Struggle in Illinois to realize Equality in Taxation,” by H. B. Hurd, in the Publications of the Michigan Political Science Association (1901). Local government is described by Albert Shaw, Local Government in Illinois (Johns Hopkins University Studies, vol. i. No. 10). The Blue Book of the State of Illinois (Springfield, 1903); H. B. Hurd’s Revised Statutes of Illinois (Chicago, 1903), and Starr and Curtis, Annotated Statutes of the State of Illinois (Chicago, 1896), are also of value.

References.—There is no complete bibliography of the diverse and extensive literature on Illinois; however, Richard Bowker’s State Publications, part ii. (New York, 1902), and the chapters in E. B. Greene’s The Government of Illinois (New York, 1904) offer useful lists of documents, monographs, and books. The physiography is well covered in The Illinois Glacial Lobe (U.S. Geological Survey, Monograph, xxxviii.) and The Water Resources of Illinois (U.S. Geological Survey, Annual Report, xviii.). The Illinois State Laboratory of Natural History, affiliated with the State University, published S. A. Forbes and R. E. Richardson’s Fishes of Illinois (Urbana, 1909). Information about economic conditions can be found in the volumes of the Twelfth Census of the United States, which address Agriculture, Manufactures, and Mines and Quarries; a summary of agricultural conditions is available in Census Bulletin No. 213. Constitutional and administrative issues are explored in Elliott Anthony’s Constitutional History of Illinois; Greene’s The Government of Illinois, and H. P. Judson’s The Government of Illinois (New York, 1900). Among the reports from state officials, those from the Railroad and Warehouse Commission, the Bureau of Labor Statistics, and the Commissioners of Charity are particularly notable. An historical study of the taxation issue titled “History of the Struggle in Illinois to Realize Equality in Taxation” by H. B. Hurd is found in the Publications of the Michigan Political Science Association (1901). Local government is discussed by Albert Shaw in Local Government in Illinois (Johns Hopkins University Studies, vol. i. No. 10). The Blue Book of the State of Illinois (Springfield, 1903); H. B. Hurd’s Revised Statutes of Illinois (Chicago, 1903), and Starr and Curtis’s Annotated Statutes of the State of Illinois (Chicago, 1896) are also valuable resources.

The standard histories of the state are J. Moses, Illinois, Historical and Statistical (2 vols., Chicago, 1889); and H. Davidson and B. Stuvé, Complete History of Illinois (Springfield, 1874). Edward G. Mason’s Chapters from Illinois History (Chicago, 1901) is of interest 312 for the French explorations and the colonial period. C. E. Boyd in “The County of Illinois” (American Hist. Rev. vol. iv.), “Record Book and Papers of John Todd” (Chicago Historical Society, Collections, iv.), C. E. Carter, Great Britain and the Illinois Country, 1763-1774 (Washington, 1910), R. L. Schuyler, The Transition of Illinois to American Government (New York, 1909), and W. H. Smith in The St Clair Papers (Cincinnati, 1882), and the Territorial Records of Illinois (“Publications of the State Historical Library,” No. 3) are important for the period until 1818. Governor Thomas Ford’s History of Illinois (Chicago, 1854), and Governor John Reynolds’s My Own Times (1855), are contemporary sources for 1818-1846; they should be supplemented by N. W. Edwards’s History of Illinois (1778-1833) and Life of Ninian Edwards (Springfield, 1870), E. B. Washburne’s Edwards Papers (Chicago, 1884), C. H. Garnett’s State Banks of Issue in Illinois (Univ. of Ill., 1898), and N. G. Harris’s History of Negro Servitude in Illinois (Chicago, 1904). C. E. Carr’s The Illini (Chicago, 1904) is a study of conditions in Illinois from 1850-1860. W. W. Lusk’s Politics and Politicians of Illinois, the Illinois Constitutional Convention (1862), the Granger Movement in Illinois, and Illinois Railway Legislation and Common Control (University of Illinois Studies), Street Railway Legislation in Illinois (Atlantic Monthly, vol. xciii.), are of value for conditions after 1860. The publications of the Chicago Historical Society, of the “Fergus Historical” series, of the State Historical Library, of the Wisconsin Historical Society, also the Michigan Pioneer Collections, contain valuable documents and essays.

The standard histories of the state include J. Moses, Illinois, Historical and Statistical (2 vols., Chicago, 1889); and H. Davidson and B. Stuvé, Complete History of Illinois (Springfield, 1874). Edward G. Mason’s Chapters from Illinois History (Chicago, 1901) is notable for its coverage of the French explorations and the colonial period. C. E. Boyd in “The County of Illinois” (American Hist. Rev. vol. iv.), “Record Book and Papers of John Todd” (Chicago Historical Society, Collections, iv.), C. E. Carter, Great Britain and the Illinois Country, 1763-1774 (Washington, 1910), R. L. Schuyler, The Transition of Illinois to American Government (New York, 1909), and W. H. Smith in The St Clair Papers (Cincinnati, 1882), along with the Territorial Records of Illinois (“Publications of the State Historical Library,” No. 3), are essential for the period up to 1818. Governor Thomas Ford’s History of Illinois (Chicago, 1854), and Governor John Reynolds’s My Own Times (1855), are contemporary sources for 1818-1846; they should be supplemented by N. W. Edwards’s History of Illinois (1778-1833) and Life of Ninian Edwards (Springfield, 1870), E. B. Washburne’s Edwards Papers (Chicago, 1884), C. H. Garnett’s State Banks of Issue in Illinois (Univ. of Ill., 1898), and N. G. Harris’s History of Negro Servitude in Illinois (Chicago, 1904). C. E. Carr’s The Illini (Chicago, 1904) examines conditions in Illinois from 1850-1860. W. W. Lusk’s Politics and Politicians of Illinois, the Illinois Constitutional Convention (1862), the Granger Movement in Illinois, and Illinois Railway Legislation and Common Control (University of Illinois Studies), along with Street Railway Legislation in Illinois (Atlantic Monthly, vol. xciii.), are significant for understanding conditions after 1860. The publications of the Chicago Historical Society, the “Fergus Historical” series, the State Historical Library, the Wisconsin Historical Society, and the Michigan Pioneer Collections contain valuable documents and essays.


1 The statistics for years prior to 1900 are taken from reports of the U.S. Census, those for years after 1900 from the Year Books of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. It should be borne in mind that in census years, when comparison can be made, the two sets of statistics often vary considerably.

1 The stats for years before 1900 are sourced from reports of the U.S. Census, and those for years after 1900 come from the Year Books of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. It's important to remember that in census years, when comparisons can be made, the two sets of statistics often differ quite a bit.

2 According to the report of the State Geological Survey, the value of the total mineral product in the state for 1907 was $152,122,648, the values of the different minerals being as follows: coal, $54,687,382; pig iron, about $52,228,000; petroleum, $16,432,947; clay and clay products, $13,351,362; zinc, $6,614,608; limestone, $4,333,651; Portland cement, $2,632,576; sand and gravel, $1,367,653; natural slag, $174,282; fluorspar, $141,971; mineral waters, $91,700; lead ore, $45,760; sandstone, $14,996; and pyrite, $5700.

2 According to the State Geological Survey report, the total value of mineral products in the state for 1907 was $152,122,648, with the values of the different minerals listed as follows: coal, $54,687,382; pig iron, around $52,228,000; petroleum, $16,432,947; clay and clay products, $13,351,362; zinc, $6,614,608; limestone, $4,333,651; Portland cement, $2,632,576; sand and gravel, $1,367,653; natural slag, $174,282; fluorspar, $141,971; mineral waters, $91,700; lead ore, $45,760; sandstone, $14,996; and pyrite, $5,700.

3 See the so-called McLean County Case (67 Ill. 11), the Neal Ruggles Case (91 Ill. 256), The People v. The Illinois Central Railroad Co. (95 Ill. 313), and Munn v. Ill. (94 U.S. 113).

3 Check out the so-called McLean County Case (67 Ill. 11), the Neal Ruggles Case (91 Ill. 256), The People v. The Illinois Central Railroad Co. (95 Ill. 313), and Munn v. Ill. (94 U.S. 113).

4 The populations in other census years were: (1810), 12,282; (1820), 55,211; (1830), 157,445; (1840), 476,183; (1850), 851,470; (1860), 1,711,951; (1870), 2,539,891; (1880), 3,077,871.

4 The populations in other census years were: (1810), 12,282; (1820), 55,211; (1830), 157,445; (1840), 476,183; (1850), 851,470; (1860), 1,711,951; (1870), 2,539,891; (1880), 3,077,871.

5 The influence of immigration and sectionalism upon Illinois politics is well illustrated by the fact that the first six governors (1818-1838) were born in the Southern states, six of the eight United States senators of that period were also Southern born, and all of the representatives, with one exception, also came to Illinois from the Southern states. After 1838 the Eastern states began to be represented among the governors, but until 1901 no governor was elected who was a native of Illinois. See E. B. Greene, Sectional Forces in the History of Illinois (Publications of the Historical Library of Illinois, No. 8, 1903).

5 The impact of immigration and regionalism on Illinois politics is clearly shown by the fact that the first six governors (1818-1838) were from Southern states, six out of the eight U.S. senators during that time were also from the South, and nearly all of the representatives, with one exception, came to Illinois from the Southern states. After 1838, governors from the Eastern states started to appear, but until 1901, no governor was elected who was a native of Illinois. See E. B. Greene, Sectional Forces in the History of Illinois (Publications of the Historical Library of Illinois, No. 8, 1903).

6 In the slavery issue of 1848 the sentiment for abolition centred in the northern counties, the opposition in the southern.

6 In the slavery debate of 1848, support for abolition was focused in the northern counties, while resistance came from the southern counties.

7 Mr French’s service of seven years is due to the fact that the Constitutional Convention of 1848 ordered a new election of state officials. French was re-elected Governor, beginning his new term in 1849.

7 Mr. French’s seven-year term is because the Constitutional Convention of 1848 called for a new election of state officials. French was re-elected as Governor and started his new term in 1849.


ILLORIN, a province of British West Africa in the protectorate of Nigeria. It has an area of 6300 m., with an estimated population of about 250,000. Its inhabitants are of various tribes, among which the Yoruba now predominate. There are two minor emirates, Shonga and Lafiagi in this province, and a number of semi-independent towns of which the chief are Awton, Ajassa, Offa and Patiji. Under British administration the province is divided into three divisions, Illorin (central), Offa (southern) and Patiji (northern). The province is rich in agricultural and sylvan products. Among the former are tobacco, cotton, rice, peppers, ground-nuts and kolas. The latter include great quantities of shea as well as palm-oil and rubber. The capital is a town of the same name as the province. It is 160 m. in a direct line N.N.E. of Lagos, and 50 m. S.S.W. of Jebba, a port on the Niger, being connected with both places by railway. The town is surrounded by a mud wall partly in ruins, which has a circuit of some 10 m. Illorin is a great trading centre, Hausa caravans bringing goods from central Africa, and merchandise from the coasts of the Mediterranean, which is distributed from Illorin to Dahomey, Benin and the Lagos hinterland, while from the Guinea coast the trade is in the hands of the Yoruba and comes chiefly through Lagos. A variety of manufactures are carried on, including the making of leather goods, carved wooden vessels, finely plaited mats, embroidered work, shoes of yellow and red leather and pottery of various kinds. Before the establishment of British administration traders from the south, with a few selected exceptions, were prohibited from entering the city. Illorin middlemen transacted all business between the traders from the north, who were not allowed to pass to the south, and those from the south. Since the establishment of British authority the town has been thrown open, crowds of petty traders from Lagos have flocked into Illorin, and between 4000 and 5000 trade licences are issued yearly. The British resident estimated in 1904 that at least 3000 loads of British cotton goods, which he valued at £5 a load, were imported. The population of the town is estimated at from 60,000 to 70,000. The chief buildings are the palace of the emir and the houses of the baloguns (war chiefs). From the centre of the town roads radiate like spokes of a wheel to the various gates. Baobabs and other shade trees are numerous. There are a number of mosques in the town, and the Mahommedans are the dominant power, but the Yoruba, who constitute the bulk of the people, are pagans.

ILLORIN, is a province in British West Africa within the protectorate of Nigeria. It covers an area of 6,300 square miles, with an estimated population of around 250,000. Its residents belong to various tribes, predominantly the Yoruba. The province features two minor emirates, Shonga and Lafiagi, along with several semi-independent towns, the main ones being Awton, Ajassa, Offa, and Patiji. Under British administration, the province is split into three divisions: Illorin (central), Offa (southern), and Patiji (northern). The province is rich in agricultural and forest products. Among the agricultural products are tobacco, cotton, rice, peppers, groundnuts, and kolas. The forest products include large amounts of shea, as well as palm oil and rubber. The capital is a town that shares its name with the province. It is located 160 miles in a direct line N.N.E. of Lagos and 50 miles S.S.W. of Jebba, a port on the Niger, connected to both locations by railway. The town is surrounded by a partly ruined mud wall with a perimeter of about 10 miles. Illorin serves as a major trading hub, with Hausa caravans bringing goods from Central Africa, and merchandise from the Mediterranean coast, which is then distributed from Illorin to Dahomey, Benin, and the Lagos hinterland. Trade from the Guinea coast is mostly managed by the Yoruba and comes primarily through Lagos. Various crafts are produced in the area, including leather goods, carved wooden items, finely woven mats, embroidery, yellow and red leather shoes, and various kinds of pottery. Before British rule, traders from the south were generally prohibited from entering the city, with a few exceptions. Illorin middlemen handled all transactions between traders from the north, who were not permitted to go south, and those from the south. Since British authority was established, the town has been opened up, attracting a large number of petty traders from Lagos, and between 4,000 and 5,000 trade licenses are issued each year. The British resident estimated in 1904 that at least 3,000 loads of British cotton goods, valued at £5 per load, were imported. The town's population is estimated to be between 60,000 and 70,000. The main buildings include the emir’s palace and the houses of the baloguns (war chiefs). From the town center, roads radiate outward like spokes from a wheel to the various gates. Baobabs and other shade trees are abundant. There are several mosques in the town, and the Muslim community holds significant influence, but the Yoruba, making up the majority of the population, primarily practice traditional religions.

The town of Illorin was founded, towards the close of the 18th century, by Yoruba, and rose to be the capital of one of the Yoruba kingdoms. About 1825 the kingdom, which had come under Mahommedan influence, ceased its connexion with the Yoruba states and became an emirate of the Sokoto empire. The Fula, however, maintained the Yoruba system of government, which places the chief power in a council of elders. In 1897 Illorin was occupied by the forces of the Royal Niger Company, and the emir placed himself “entirely under the protection and power of the company.” After the assumption of authority by the British government in 1900, Illorin was organized for administration on the same system as the remainder of northern Nigeria. The emir took the oath of allegiance to the sovereign of Great Britain. A resident was placed at his court. Courts of justice have been established and British garrisons quartered at various places in the province. (See also Nigeria and Lagos.)

The town of Illorin was established towards the end of the 18th century by the Yoruba and became the capital of one of the Yoruba kingdoms. Around 1825, the kingdom, which had come under Muslim influence, cut ties with the Yoruba states and became an emirate of the Sokoto empire. The Fula, however, kept the Yoruba system of governance, which gives chief power to a council of elders. In 1897, Illorin was taken over by the forces of the Royal Niger Company, and the emir placed himself “entirely under the protection and power of the company.” After the British government took control in 1900, Illorin was organized for administration in the same way as the rest of northern Nigeria. The emir swore an oath of allegiance to the monarch of Great Britain. A resident was assigned to his court. Courts of justice were established, and British garrisons were stationed at various locations in the province. (See also Nigeria and Lagos.)


ILLUMINATED MSS.—“Illumination,” in art, is a term used to signify the embellishment of written or printed text or design with colours and gold, rarely also with silver. The old form of the verb “to illuminate” was “to enlumine” (O. Fr. enluminer; Lat. illuminare, “to throw light on,” “to brighten”), as used by Chaucer (A.B.C., 73), “kalendres enlumyned ben they,” and other medieval writers. Joinville likens the action of St Louis in adorning his kingdom with monastic foundations to a writer “qui a fait son livre qui l’enlumine d’or et d’azur”; while Dante (Purgat. xi. 79) alludes to this kind of decoration as “quell’ arte che alluminare chiamata è in Parisi.” But while the term should be strictly applied to the brilliant book-ornamentation which was developed in the later middle ages, it has been extended, by usage, to the illustration and decoration of early MSS. in general.

ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS.—“Illumination” in art refers to the decoration of written or printed text or design with colors and gold, and rarely with silver. The old form of the verb “to illuminate” was “to enlumine” (O. Fr. enluminer; Lat. illuminare, meaning “to throw light on” or “to brighten”), as used by Chaucer (A.B.C., 73), “kalendres enlumyned ben they,” and other medieval writers. Joinville compares St. Louis's efforts to enhance his kingdom with monastic foundations to a writer “who created his book and decorated it with gold and azure”; while Dante (Purgat. xi. 79) refers to this type of decoration as “that art which is called illumination in Paris.” However, while the term should be strictly applied to the brilliant book ornamentation that developed in the later Middle Ages, it has been broadened in usage to include the illustration and decoration of early MSS. in general.

From remote times the practice of illustrating texts by means of pictorial representations was in vogue. The survival of papyrus rolls containing the text of the Egyptian ritual known as The Book of the Dead, dating back Early. fifteen centuries B.C., and accompanied with numerous scenes painted in brilliant colours, proves how ancient was this very natural method of elucidating a written text by means of pictures. There are many passages in the writings of Latin authors showing that illustrated books were not uncommon in Rome at least in the early period of the empire; and the oldest extant paintings in ancient classical MSS. may with little hesitation be accepted as representative of the style of illustration which was practised very much earlier. But such paintings are rather illustrative than decorative, and the only strictly ornamental adjuncts are the frames in which they are set. Yet independent decoration appears in a primitive form in the papyri and the earliest vellum MSS. At the head or at the end of the text designs composed of cross-hatchings, cables, dotted patterns and scrolls, sometimes with birds or simple domestic objects, are found. The early practice of writing the initial lines or even the entire text of a volume in gold or coloured inks, and of staining with purple and of gilding the vellum, while it undoubtedly enhanced the decorative aspect, does not properly fall within the scope of this article; it concerns the material rather than the artistic element of the MS. (See Manuscripts, Palaeography.)

From ancient times, the practice of illustrating texts with pictures has been popular. The discovery of papyrus scrolls containing the text of the Egyptian ritual known as The Book of the Dead, dating back fifteen centuries Early. B.C., along with numerous brightly colored scenes, shows how long this natural method of clarifying written text through images has existed. There are many references in Latin authors' writings that demonstrate illustrated books were fairly common in Rome, at least during the early empire. The oldest surviving paintings in ancient classical manuscripts can confidently be seen as representative of the style of illustration that existed much earlier. However, these paintings are more illustrative than decorative, with the only true ornamental elements being the frames they are enclosed in. Still, some independent decoration does appear in a primitive form in the papyri and the earliest vellum manuscripts. At the beginning or end of the text, designs made up of cross-hatchings, cables, dotted patterns, and scrolls, sometimes featuring birds or simple domestic items, can be found. The early practice of writing the initial lines or even the entire text of a volume in gold or colored inks, along with staining the vellum purple and gilding it, certainly enhanced the decorative look, but this topic falls outside the focus of this article; it pertains more to the material aspects than to the artistic elements of the manuscript. (See Manuscripts, Palaeography.)

It will be seen, then, that in the earliest examples of book decorations we find the germs of the two lines on which that decoration was destined to develop in the illuminated MSS. of the middle ages: the illustrative picture was the precursor of the medieval miniature (the technical term for a picture in an illuminated MS.); and the independent simple ornament was to expand into the brilliant initial letters and borders of illumination. And yet, while the miniature has a career of its own in artistic development which may be more conveniently dealt with under a separate heading (see Miniature), its decorative qualities are so closely bound up with those of the initial and border that an historical description of illumination must give full recognition to its prominent position in the general scheme of book-ornamentation of the middle ages.

It can be seen that in the earliest examples of book decorations, we find the beginnings of two main directions for how that decoration would evolve in the illuminated manuscripts of the Middle Ages: the illustrative picture was the forerunner of the medieval miniature (the technical term for a picture in an illuminated manuscript); and the simple independent ornament was set to grow into the vibrant initial letters and borders of illumination. However, while the miniature has its own artistic development that might be better addressed under a separate section (see Miniature), its decorative qualities are so closely related to those of the initials and borders that a historical overview of illumination must acknowledge its significant role in the overall scheme of book decoration during the Middle Ages.

The first examples to come under consideration are the few surviving MSS. of early origin which, preserving as they do the classical tradition, form the connecting link between the art of the Roman empire and that of the middle ages. The most ancient of these, it is now agreed, is the fragmentary copy of the Iliad, on vellum, in the Ambrosian Library of Milan, which consists of cuttings of the coloured drawings with which the volume was adorned in illustration of the various scenes of the 313 poem. The MS. may have been executed in Italy, and there is good reason to assign the fragments to the 3rd century. The character of the art is quite classical, bearing comparison with that of the wall-paintings of Pompeii and the catacombs. Equally classical in their style are the fifty illustrative pictures of the Vatican Virgil, known as the Schedae Vaticanae, of the 4th century; but in these we find an advance on the Homeric fragments in the direction of decoration, for gilt shading is here employed to heighten the lights, and the frames in which the pictures are set are ornamented with gilt lozenges. A second famous MS. of Virgil in the Vatican library is the Codex Romanus, a curious instance of rough and clumsy art, with its series of illustrations copied by an unskilful hand from earlier classical models. And a still later example of persistence of the classical tradition is seen in the long roll of the book of Joshua, also in the Vatican, perhaps of the 10th century, which is filled with a series of outline drawings of considerable merit, copied from an earlier MS. But all such MSS. exhibit little tendency to decoration, and if the book ornamentation of the early middle ages had been practised only in the western empire and not also at Constantinople, it is very doubtful if the brilliant illumination which was afterwards developed would have ever existed.

The first examples to consider are the few surviving manuscripts of early origin, which, by preserving the classical tradition, link the art of the Roman Empire to that of the Middle Ages. The oldest of these is now recognized as the fragmentary copy of the Iliad, on vellum, located in the Ambrosian Library of Milan. It consists of cuttings of the colorful drawings that illustrated various scenes from the poem. This manuscript may have been created in Italy, and there’s strong evidence to date the fragments to the 3rd century. Its artistic style is distinctly classical, comparable to the wall paintings of Pompeii and the catacombs. Similarly classical are the fifty illustrative images from the Vatican Virgil, known as the Schedae Vaticanae, which dates back to the 4th century. However, these represent a step forward in decoration compared to the Homeric fragments, as they utilize gold shading to enhance highlights, and the frames surrounding the images are adorned with gold lozenges. Another notable manuscript of Virgil in the Vatican Library is the Codex Romanus, which showcases a rough and clumsy artistic approach, with a series of illustrations that were copied by an unskilled hand from earlier classical works. An even later example of the enduring classical tradition can be seen in the long roll of the Book of Joshua, also in the Vatican, which may date from the 10th century and features a range of quality outline drawings copied from an earlier manuscript. However, all these manuscripts show little inclination toward decoration, and if ornamentation in early medieval books had only occurred in the western empire and not in Constantinople as well, it’s quite unlikely that the vibrant illumination that later developed would have ever come into existence.

Plate I.

Plate I.

THE LINDISFARNE GOSPELS.—ABOUT CE 700.
(British Museum. Cotton MS., Nero D. iv. f. 211.)

When the centre of government passed eastward, Roman art came under Oriental influence with its sense of splendour, and developed the style known as Byzantine which, in its earlier stages, and until it became stereotyped in Byzantine. character, was broad in its drawing, on classical lines, and brilliant in its colouring, and which introduced a profuse application of gold in the details of ornament. Reacting on the art of the west, the influence of the Byzantine or Greek school is not only prominent in such early works as the mosaics of Ravenna, but it has also left its mark in the peculiar character of Italian pictorial art of the middle ages.

When the government moved east, Roman art was influenced by Oriental styles, embracing a sense of grandeur and evolving into what is known as Byzantine art. In its early stages, before it became standardized in Byzantine Empire. form, it featured broad lines following classical traditions and vibrant colors, incorporating a lavish use of gold in decorative details. The Byzantine or Greek school's influence not only strongly impacted early works like the mosaics of Ravenna but also shaped the unique character of Italian pictorial art during the Middle Ages.

Very few examples of early Byzantine work in MSS. have survived; but two fragmentary leaves (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 5111) of tables of the Eusebian canons, which must have stood at the beginning of a copy of the Gospels, executed no doubt in the Eastern capital in the 6th century, are sufficient to exemplify the splendour of ornament which might be lavished on book decoration at that date. The surface of the vellum is entirely gilt, and the ornamental designs are in classical style and painted in bright colours. Two well-known MSS., the Genesis of the Imperial Library of Vienna, of the latter part of the 6th century, and the Gospels of Rossano in southern Italy, of the same period, both containing series of illustrative paintings of a semi-classical type, are very interesting specimens of Byzantine art; but they depend on their purple vellum and their silver-written texts to claim a place among highly ornamented MSS., for the paintings themselves are devoid of gold. On the other hand, the Greek MS. of Genesis, of the 5th or 6th century, which once formed part of the Cottonian collection in the British Museum, but which was almost totally destroyed by fire, was of a more artistic character: the drawing of its miniatures was of great merit and classical in style, and gold shading was largely employed in the details. The famous MS. of Dioscorides at Vienna, executed in the year 472, is another excellent example of the early Byzantine school, its series of paintings at the beginning of the volume well maintaining the classical sentiment.

Very few examples of early Byzantine manuscripts have survived; however, two fragmentary leaves (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 5111) of the Eusebian canons, which would have been at the beginning of a copy of the Gospels, were likely created in the Eastern capital in the 6th century and are enough to showcase the ornate decoration that could be lavishly applied to books at that time. The surface of the vellum is entirely gilt, and the decorative designs are in a classical style and painted in vibrant colors. Two well-known manuscripts, the Genesis of the Imperial Library of Vienna from the late 6th century, and the Gospels of Rossano in southern Italy from the same period, both include a series of illustrative paintings of a semi-classical type, making them very interesting examples of Byzantine art; but they rely on their purple vellum and silver-written texts to be considered highly decorative manuscripts, as the paintings themselves lack gold. On the other hand, the Greek manuscript of Genesis from the 5th or 6th century, which was once part of the Cottonian collection in the British Museum but was almost completely destroyed by fire, had a more artistic quality: the drawings of its miniatures were of high merit and classical style, and gold shading was extensively used in the details. The famous manuscript of Dioscorides in Vienna, created in the year 472, is another exceptional example of the early Byzantine school, with its series of paintings at the beginning of the volume effectively maintaining the classical sentiment.

From such early examples Byzantine art advanced to a maturer style in the 9th and 10th centuries, two MSS. in the Bibliothèque Nationale of Paris being types of the best work of this time. These are: the copy of the sermons of Gregory Nazianzen (MS. Grec. 510), executed about the year 880 and containing a series of large miniatures, some being of the highest excellence; and a psalter of the 10th century (MS. Grec. 139), among whose miniatures are examples which still maintain the old sentiment of classical art in a remarkable degree, one in particular, representing David as the psalmist, being an adapted copy of a classical scene of Orpheus and the Muses. The same scene is repeated in a later Psalter in the Vatican: an instance of the repetition of favourite subjects from one century to another which is common throughout the history of medieval art. At the period of the full maturity of the Byzantine school great skill is displayed in the best examples of figure-drawing, and a fine type of head and features is found in the miniatures of such MSS. as the Homilies of Chrysostom at Paris, which belonged to the emperor Nicephorus III., 1078-1081, and in the best copies of the Gospels and Saints’ Lives of that period, some of them being of exquisite finish. By this time also the scheme of decoration was established. Brilliant gilded backgrounds, give lustre to the miniatures. Initial letters in gold and colours are in ordinary use; but, it is to be observed, they never become very florid, but are rather meagre in outline, nor do they develop the pendants and borders which are afterwards so characteristic of the illuminated MSS. of the west. By way of general decoration, the rectangular head-pieces, which are such prominent features in Greek MSS. from the 10th to the 13th centuries, flourish in flowered and tesselated and geometric patterns in bright colours and gold. These are palpably of Oriental design, and may very well have been suggested by the woven fabrics of western Asia.

From these early examples, Byzantine art evolved into a more sophisticated style in the 9th and 10th centuries. Two manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale of Paris are top examples of this period's best work. These are: the copy of the sermons of Gregory Nazianzen (MS. Grec. 510), made around the year 880 and featuring a series of large miniatures, some of exceptional quality; and a psalter from the 10th century (MS. Grec. 139), which includes miniatures that remarkably retain the classic artistic sentiment, particularly one depicting David as the psalmist, an adapted version of a classical scene of Orpheus and the Muses. This scene is repeated in a later Psalter in the Vatican, illustrating the common practice in medieval art of revisiting popular subjects across different centuries. During the peak of the Byzantine school's development, great skill is evident in the finest examples of figure drawing, with notable head types and features in the miniatures of manuscripts like the Homilies of Chrysostom in Paris, which belonged to Emperor Nicephorus III, 1078-1081, along with the best copies of the Gospels and Saints’ Lives from that time, some showcasing exquisite finishing. By this period, the decoration style was also established. Brightly gilded backgrounds enhance the miniatures. Initial letters in gold and colors are commonly used, but they remain relatively simple and not overly ornamental in design, lacking the pendants and borders that later became characteristic of illuminated manuscripts in the West. In general decoration, the rectangular headpieces, prominent in Greek manuscripts from the 10th to the 13th centuries, flourish with floral, tessellated, and geometric patterns in vibrant colors and gold. These designs are clearly of Oriental origin and likely inspired by the woven fabrics of western Asia.

But Byzantine art was not destined to have a great history. Too self-contained and, under ecclesiastical influence, too much secluded from the contact with other ideas and other influences which are vitally necessary for healthy growth and expansion, it fell into stereotyped and formal convention and ran in narrow grooves. A general tendency was set up to paint the flesh tints in swarthy hues, to elongate and emaciate the limbs, to stiffen the gait, and generally to employ sombre colours in the miniatures, the depressing effect of which the artist seems to have felt himself compelled to relieve by rather startling contrasts of bright vermilion and lavish employment of gold. Still the initials and head-pieces continued to retain their brilliancy, of which they could scarcely be deprived without losing their raison d’être as decorative adjuncts. But, with all faults, fine and delicate drawing, with technical finish in the applied colours, is still characteristic of the best Greek miniatures of the 10th to 12th centuries, and the fine type of head and features of the older time remains a tradition. For example, in the Gospel lectionary, Harleian MS. 1810, in the British Museum, of the 12th century, there is a series of scenes from the life of Christ which are more than usually free from the contemporary conventionalism and which contain many figures of noble design. After the 12th century there is little in the art of Greek MSS. to detain us. The later examples, as far as they exist, are decadent and are generally lifeless copies of the earlier MSS.

But Byzantine art was not meant to have a great legacy. It was too insular and, under church influence, too isolated from interaction with other ideas and influences that are essential for healthy growth and expansion. It became stuck in stereotypical and formal conventions and followed narrow paths. A general trend developed to paint skin tones in dark shades, to elongate and thin out the limbs, to stiffen the poses, and generally to use dull colors in the miniatures, the depressing effect of which the artist seemed compelled to offset with jolting contrasts of bright vermilion and generous use of gold. Nevertheless, the initials and decorative headers still maintained their brilliance, which they could hardly lose without losing their raison d’être as decorative elements. Still, despite its flaws, fine and delicate drawing, along with technical refinement in the applied colors, remains characteristic of the best Greek miniatures from the 10th to the 12th centuries, and the elegant features from earlier times persist as a tradition. For example, in the Gospel lectionary, Harleian MS. 1810, from the 12th century at the British Museum, there is a series of scenes from the life of Christ that are unusually free from the contemporary conventions and include many figures of noble design. After the 12th century, there is little in the art of Greek manuscripts that is worth our attention. The later examples, where they do exist, are decadent and are generally lifeless imitations of the earlier manuscripts.

Byzantine art, as seen in Greek MSS., stands apart as a thing of itself. But we shall have to consider how far and in what manner it had an influence on western art. Its reaction and influence on Italian art have been mentioned. That that influence was direct is manifest both in the style of such works as the mosaics of Italy and in the character of the paintings of the early Italian masters, and eventually in the earliest examples of the illuminated MSS. of central and southern Italy. But it is not so obvious how the influence which the eastern art of the Greek school undoubtedly exercised on the illuminated MSS. of the Frankish empire was conveyed. All things considered, however, it seems more probable that it passed westward through the medium of Italian art rather than by actual contact, except perhaps in accidental instances.

Byzantine art, as seen in Greek manuscripts, is distinct in its own right. However, we need to examine how much and in what ways it influenced Western art. Its impact on Italian art has already been noted. The direct influence is clear both in the style of works like the mosaics of Italy and in the characteristics of the paintings by early Italian masters, as well as in the earliest examples of illuminated manuscripts from central and southern Italy. However, it’s less clear how the influence of eastern art from the Greek school made its way to the illuminated manuscripts of the Frankish empire. Overall, it seems more likely that this influence spread westward through Italian art rather than through direct contact, except in some random cases.

We turn to the west of Europe, and we shall see how in the elaborately ornamented Frankish MSS. of the Carolingian school was combined the lingering tradition of the classical style with a new and independent element which had Franco-Lombardic. grown up spontaneously in the north. This new factor was the Celtic art which had its origin and was brought to perfection in the illuminated MSS. of Ireland and afterwards of Britain. It will therefore be convenient to trace the history of that school of book ornamentation. But before doing so we must dispose, in few words, of the more primitive style which preceded the Carolingian development in western continental Europe. This primitive style, which we may call the native style, as distinguished from the more artificially 314 compounded art of the revival under Charlemagne, seems to have been widely extended throughout the Frankish empire and to have been common in Lombardy, and to some degree in Spain, as well as in France, and is known as Merovingian and Franco-Lombardic. This kind of ornamentation appears chiefly in the form of initial letters composed of birds, fishes and animals contorted into the shapes of the alphabetical letters; and in a less degree of head-pieces and borders filled with interlacings, or bands, or geometrical patterns, and even details of animal life. In these patterns, barbarous as they usually are, the influence of such artistic objects as mosaics and enamels is evident. The prevailing colours are crude green, red, orange and yellow, which hold their place with persistence through successive generations of MSS. This native style also, in course of time, came under Celtic influence, and adopted into its scheme the interlaced designs of animal forms and other details of the ornament of the north. It is therefore necessary to bear in mind that, side by side with the great series of Carolingian MSS., executed with all possible magnificence, there was existent this native school producing its examples of a more rustic character, which must be taken into account when studying the development of the later national style in France, in the 10th and succeeding centuries.

We turn to the west of Europe, where we can see how the intricately decorated Frankish manuscripts from the Carolingian school blended the enduring tradition of classical style with a new, independent element that had spontaneously emerged in the north. This new factor was Celtic art, which originated and was perfected in the illuminated manuscripts of Ireland and later Britain. It makes sense to trace the history of that school of book decoration. However, before we do that, we should briefly discuss the more primitive style that preceded the Carolingian development in western continental Europe. This primitive style, which we can call the native style, in contrast to the more artificially combined art of the revival under Charlemagne, seems to have been widespread throughout the Frankish empire and common in Lombardy, to some extent in Spain, as well as in France, and is known as Merovingian and Franco-Lombardic. This type of decoration appears mainly in the form of initial letters made up of birds, fish, and animals twisted into the shapes of letters, and to a lesser extent in head-pieces and borders filled with interlacings, bands, or geometric patterns, and even details of animal life. In these designs, rough as they often are, the influence of artistic objects like mosaics and enamels is clear. The dominant colors are vibrant green, red, orange, and yellow, which consistently appear across generations of manuscripts. This native style also gradually came under Celtic influence, incorporating the interlaced designs of animal forms and other ornamental details from the north. It’s important to remember that alongside the impressive series of Carolingian manuscripts, created with every possible grandeur, there existed this native school producing examples of a more rustic character, which must be considered when studying the development of the later national style in France during the 10th century and beyond.

To turn now to the Celtic style of ornament in MSS. This we find in full development in Ireland as early as the 7th century. The Irish school of book ornamentation was essentially a native school working out its own ideas, created and Celtic fostered by the early civilization of the country and destined to have a profound influence on the art of Britain and eventually on that of the continent. It may be described as a mechanical art brought to the highest pitch of perfection by the most skilful and patient elaboration. Initials, borders and full-page designs are made up of interlaced ribbons, interlaced and entangled zoomorphic creatures, intricate knots, spirals, zig-zag ornaments, and delicate interwoven patterns, together with all kinds of designs worked out in red dots—all arranged and combined together with mathematical accuracy and with exquisite precision of touch; and painted in harmonious colours in thick pigments, which lend to the whole design the appearance of enamel. Gold is never used. In the production of his designs the Irish artist evidently took for his models the objects of early metal work in which the Celtic race was so skilled, and probably, too, the classical enamels and mosaics and jewelry which had been imported and copied in the country. The finest example of early Celtic book ornamentation is the famous copy of the Gospels known as the Book of Kells, of the latter part of the 7th century, preserved in Trinity College, Dublin: a miracle of minute and accurate workmanship, combining in its brilliant pages an endless variety of design.

To shift our focus to the Celtic style of ornamentation in manuscripts, we see its full development in Ireland as early as the 7th century. The Irish tradition of book decoration was fundamentally a local practice, fully developed from its own ideas, nurtured by the early civilization of the region, and it would greatly influence the art of Britain and eventually that of the continent. It can be described as a craft perfected to the highest level through skilled and detailed work. Initials, borders, and full-page designs consist of interlaced ribbons, intertwined and entangled zoomorphic creatures, intricate knots, spirals, zig-zag patterns, and delicate interwoven motifs, along with various designs created with red dots—all arranged and combined with mathematical precision and exquisite detail; painted in harmonious colors using thick pigments, giving the entire design an enamel-like appearance. Gold is never used. In creating these designs, the Irish artist clearly drew inspiration from early metalwork, where the Celtic people excelled, along with classical enamels, mosaics, and jewelry that had been imported and emulated in the area. The best example of early Celtic book ornamentation is the famous copy of the Gospels known as the Book of Kells, from the latter part of the 7th century, preserved in Trinity College, Dublin: a marvel of meticulous and precise craftsmanship, showcasing an endless variety of design in its vibrant pages.

But, with all his artistic excellence, the Irish artist failed completely in figure drawing; in fact he can hardly be said to have seriously attempted it. When we contemplate, for example, the rude figures intended to represent the evangelists in early copies of the Gospels, their limbs contorted and often composed of extraordinary interlacings and convolutions, we wonder that the sense of beauty which the Irish artist indubitably possessed in an eminent degree was not shocked by such barbarous productions. The explanation is probably to be found in tradition. These figures in course of time had come to be regarded rather as details to be worked into the general scheme of the ornament of the pages in which they occur than representations of the human form, and were accordingly treated by the artist as subjects on which to exercise his ingenuity in knotting them into fantastic shapes.

But, despite his incredible artistic talent, the Irish artist completely struggled with figure drawing; in fact, he can hardly be said to have really tried. When we look at the rough figures meant to represent the evangelists in early versions of the Gospels, their limbs twisted and often made up of bizarre interwoven patterns, we wonder how the sense of beauty that the Irish artist clearly had in abundance wasn't offended by such crude works. The explanation likely lies in tradition. Over time, these figures came to be seen more as elements to be integrated into the overall design of the pages they appeared on rather than accurate representations of the human form, and so the artist treated them as opportunities to show off his creativity by twisting them into unusual shapes.

Passing from Ireland, the Celtic style of book ornamentation was naturally practised in the monastic settlements of Scotland, and especially in St Columba’s foundation in the island of Iona. Thence it spread to other houses in Lindisfarne Gospels. Britain. In the year 635, at the request of Oswald, king of Northumbria, Aidan, a monk of Iona, was sent to preach Christianity in that kingdom, and became the founder of the abbey and see of Lindisfarne in Holy Isle off the Northumbrian coast. Here was established by the brethren who accompanied the missionary the famous school of Lindisfarne, from which issued a wonderful series of finely written and finely ornamented MSS. in the Celtic style, some of which still survive. The most perfect is the Lindisfarne Gospels or St Cuthbert’s Gospels or the Durham Book, as it is more commonly called from the fact of its having rested for some time at Durham after early wanderings. This MS., written in honour of St Cuthbert and completed early in the 8th century, is in the Cottonian collection in the British Museum—a beautiful example of writing, and of the Celtic style of ornament, and in perfect condition. The contact with foreign influences, unknown in Ireland, is manifested in this volume by the use of gold, but in very sparing quantity, in some of the details. An interesting point in the artistic treatment of the MS. is the style in which the figures of the four evangelists are portrayed. Here the conventional Irish method, noticed above, is abandoned; the figures are mechanical copies from Byzantine models. The artist was unskilled in such drawing and has indicated the folds of the draperies, not by shading, but by streaks of paint of contrasting colours. Explanations of such instances of the unexpected adoption of a foreign style are rarely forthcoming; but in this case there is one. The sections of the text have been identified as following the Neapolitan use. The Greek Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury, arrived in Britain in the year 688 and was accompanied by Adrian, abbot of a monastery in the island of Nisita near Naples; and they both visited Lindisfarne. There can therefore be little doubt that the Neapolitan MS. from which the text of the Durham Book was derived, was one which Abbot Adrian had brought with him; and it may also be assumed that his MS. also contained paintings of the evangelists in the Byzantine style, which served as models to the Northumbrian artist.

Passing from Ireland, the Celtic style of book decoration was naturally practiced in the monastic settlements of Scotland, especially in St. Columba’s foundation on the island of Iona. From there, it spread to other places in Britain. In 635, at the request of Oswald, the king of Northumbria, Aidan, a monk from Iona, was sent to preach Christianity in that kingdom and became the founder of the abbey and see of Lindisfarne on Holy Isle off the Northumbrian coast. Here, the brethren who accompanied the missionary established the famous school of Lindisfarne, which produced a remarkable series of beautifully written and ornately decorated manuscripts in the Celtic style, some of which still exist. The most outstanding is the Lindisfarne Gospels or St. Cuthbert’s Gospels or the Durham Book, as it’s more commonly called because it was kept for some time at Durham after its earlier travels. This manuscript, written in honor of St. Cuthbert and completed in the early 8th century, is in the Cottonian collection at the British Museum—a stunning example of writing and Celtic ornamentation, and it’s in perfect condition. The influence of foreign styles, which were unknown in Ireland, is evident in this volume through the limited use of gold in some details. An interesting aspect of the artistic presentation of the manuscript is the style in which the figures of the four evangelists are depicted. Here, the traditional Irish method mentioned earlier is set aside; the figures are direct copies from Byzantine models. The artist lacked skill in this type of drawing and indicated the folds of the drapery, not with shading, but with contrasting strokes of paint. Explanations for such unexpected adoption of a foreign style are rarely available, but in this case, there is one. The sections of the text are identified as following the Neapolitan style. The Greek Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury, arrived in Britain in 688 and was accompanied by Adrian, the abbot of a monastery on the island of Nisita near Naples, and they both visited Lindisfarne. Therefore, it’s likely that the Neapolitan manuscript from which the text of the Durham Book was derived was one that Abbot Adrian brought with him; it can also be assumed that his manuscript contained paintings of the evangelists in the Byzantine style, which served as models for the Northumbrian artist.

The Celtic style was thus established through the north of England, and thence it spread to the southern parts of the country. But, for the moment, the account of its further development in Britain must be suspended Carolingian. in order to resume the thread of the story of the later classical influence on the illumination of MSS. of the Frankish empire. Under Charlemagne, who became emperor of the West in the year 800, art revived in many branches, and particularly in that of the writing and the illumination of MSS. During the reigns of this monarch and his immediate successors was produced a series of magnificent volumes, mostly biblical and liturgical, made resplendent by a lavish use of gold. The character of the decoration runs still, as of old, in the two lines of illustration and of pure ornament. We find a certain amount of general illustration, usually of the biblical narrative, in pictorial scenes drawn in freehand in the later classical style, and undoubtedly inspired by the western art of Rome. But those illustrations are small in number compared with the numerous examples of pure ornament. Such ornament was employed in the tables of the Eusebian canons, in the accessories of the traditional pictures of the evangelists, in the full-page designs which introduced the opening words of the several books of Bibles or Gospels, in the large initial letters profusely scattered through the volumes, in the infinite variety of borders which, in some MSS., adorned page after page. In all this ornament the debased classical element is prominently in evidence, columns and arches of variegated marbles, and leaf mouldings and other architectural details are borrowed from the Roman basilicas, to serve as decorations for text and miniature. The conventional portrait-figures of the evangelists are modelled on the Byzantine pattern, but with differences which appear to indicate an intervening influence, such as would be exercised on the eastern art by its transmission through Italy. Such figures, which indeed become, in course of time, so formal as almost to be decorative details along with their settings, grew stereotyped and passed on monotonously from artist to artist, always subject to deterioration, and were perpetuated especially in MSS. of German origin down to the 11th and 12th centuries.

The Celtic style was established in northern England and then spread to the southern parts of the country. However, for now, we need to pause the discussion of its further development in Britain Carolingian. to return to the later classical influence on the illumination of manuscripts from the Frankish empire. Under Charlemagne, who became the emperor of the West in 800, art experienced a revival in many areas, especially in writing and illuminating manuscripts. During the reigns of Charlemagne and his immediate successors, a series of magnificent volumes, mostly biblical and liturgical, were created, shining with a rich use of gold. The decoration style still follows the traditional two lines of illustration and pure ornament. We see some general illustration, usually depicting biblical narratives with freehand scenes in the later classical style, undoubtedly inspired by Western Roman art. However, these illustrations are small compared to the many examples of pure ornament. Such ornament was used in the tables of the Eusebian canons, in the traditional pictures of the evangelists, in the full-page designs that introduced the opening words of various books of Bibles or Gospels, in the large initial letters scattered throughout the volumes, and in the countless borders adorning page after page in some manuscripts. In all this ornament, the degraded classical element is clearly visible, with columns and arches of colorful marbles, leaf moldings, and other architectural details borrowed from Roman basilicas to decorate text and miniatures. The conventional portrait figures of the evangelists are modeled on the Byzantine pattern, but with variations that suggest an influence intervened, likely due to the transmission of art through Italy. These figures became increasingly formal over time, almost turning into decorative details along with their settings, becoming stereotyped and monotonously passed down from artist to artist, always subject to decline, and were especially preserved in manuscripts of German origin up until the 11th and 12th centuries.

Plate II.

Plate 2.

PSALTER OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY.—LATE TWELFTH CENTURY.
(British Museum. Royal MS. 2A. xxii.)

Plate III.

Plate 3.

LECTIONARY, OF THE USE OF PARIS. LATE THIRTEENTH CENTURY.
(British Museum. Add. M.S. 17,341.)

But it is not the debased classical decoration alone which 315 marks the illumination of the Carolingian school. The influence of the Celtic art, which has been described, imposed itself and combined with it. This combination was due to the Englishman, Alcuin of York, who became abbot of the Benedictine house of St Martin of Tours, and who did so much to aid Charlemagne in the revival of letters. Thus, in the finest examples of the Carolingian illuminated MSS., Celtic interlaced patterns stand side by side with the designs of classical origin; and, at the same time, it is interesting to observe that the older native Merovingian style of ornament makes its presence felt, now and again, in this or that detail. But with all the artistic effort bestowed upon it, it must be conceded that Carolingian illumination, as presented in the MSS., is not always pleasing. Indeed, it is often coarse and monotonous, and there is a tendency to conceal inferiority under a dazzling abundance of gold. The leading idea of the ornament of the great MSS. was splendour. Gold was used in profusion even in the writing of the text, and silver also in a minor degree; and the vellum, stained or painted purple, enhanced the gorgeous effect of the illumination. But undoubtedly the purer style of the Celtic school balanced and restrained the tendency to coarseness; and this foreign influence naturally was stronger in some centres than in others. For example, in the abbey of Saint-Denis, near Paris, if we may draw conclusions from surviving examples, the Celtic style was in great favour. Another peculiarity in the decoration of the Carolingian MSS. is the tendency of the artist to mix his styles, and to attach details on a small scale, such as delicate sprays and flourishes, and minute objects, to large-scale initial letters, as though he felt that grossness required a corrective contrast. The art became more refined under the immediate successors of Charlemagne, and under Charles the Bald it culminated. The most famous MSS. of the Carolingian school are the Evangeliarium, written and illuminated by the scribe Godescalc for Charlemagne in the year 787; the Sacramentarium written for Drogon, son of Charlemagne and bishop of Metz; the Gospels of the emperor Lothair, once at Tours; the first Bible of Charles the Bald, presented by Count Vivien, abbot of St Martin of Tours; the second Bible, called the Bible of Saint Denis, in Franco-Saxon style; and the so-called Gospels of Francis II. There are also in the British Museum (Harleian MS. 2788) an Evangeliarium written in gold and known as the Codex aureus, of this school; and a Bible of Alcuin’s recension, probably executed at Tours in the middle of the 9th century, with illustrative miniatures and initial letters, but of a less elaborate degree of ornament.

But it’s not just the simplified classical decoration that defines the illumination of the Carolingian school. The influence of Celtic art, which has been described, merged with it. This combination was largely due to Alcuin of York, an Englishman who became the abbot of the Benedictine monastery of St. Martin of Tours and played a significant role in helping Charlemagne revive education. As a result, in the finest examples of the Carolingian illuminated manuscripts, Celtic interlaced patterns appear alongside classical designs; it's also interesting to note that the older native Merovingian style of ornament occasionally makes an appearance in various details. However, despite all the artistic effort put into it, it's fair to say that Carolingian illumination, as seen in the manuscripts, isn’t always aesthetically pleasing. In fact, it can often seem rough and monotonous, with a tendency to hide its shortcomings beneath a dazzling abundance of gold. The main idea behind the ornamentation of the great manuscripts was opulence. Gold was used lavishly, even in the text itself, with silver used to a lesser extent; and the vellum, stained or painted purple, added to the stunning effect of the illumination. Nonetheless, the more refined style of the Celtic school balanced and tempered the coarseness; this foreign influence was naturally stronger in some centers than in others. For instance, in the abbey of Saint-Denis, near Paris, if we can draw conclusions from existing examples, the Celtic style was very popular. Another unique aspect of the decoration of the Carolingian manuscripts is the artists’ tendency to mix styles and attach small-scale details, such as delicate sprays and flourishes, to large initial letters, as if they felt that coarseness needed a contrasting refinement. The art became more sophisticated under Charlemagne’s immediate successors and reached its peak under Charles the Bald. The most famous manuscripts of the Carolingian school include the Evangeliarium, written and illuminated by the scribe Godescalc for Charlemagne in 787; the Sacramentarium made for Drogon, Charlemagne's son and bishop of Metz; the Gospels of Emperor Lothair, once in Tours; the first Bible of Charles the Bald, gifted by Count Vivien, abbot of St. Martin of Tours; the second Bible, known as the Bible of Saint Denis, in Franco-Saxon style; and the so-called Gospels of Francis II. The British Museum also houses a manuscript (Harleian MS. 2788) of an Evangeliarium written in gold, known as the Codex aureus, from this school; and a Bible based on Alcuin’s version, likely created at Tours in the mid-9th century, featuring illustrative miniatures and initial letters, but with a less intricate level of ornamentation.

After this brilliant period decadence sets in; and in the course of the 11th century Frankish illumination sinks to its lowest point, the miniatures being for the most part coarse and clumsy copies of earlier models. The colours become harsh, often assuming an unpleasant chalky appearance.

After this brilliant period, decline sets in; and throughout the 11th century, Frankish art reaches its lowest point, with the miniatures mostly being crude and clumsy imitations of earlier works. The colors become harsh, often taking on an unpleasant chalky look.

We have now to trace the development of another kind of book decoration, quite different from the florid style of gold and colours just now described, which had a lasting influence on the early art of England, where it was specially cultivated, and where it developed a character which at length became distinctively national. This is the style of outline drawing which fills so large a space in the Anglo-Saxon MSS. of the 10th and 11th centuries.

We now need to explore the evolution of a different type of book decoration, one that contrasts sharply with the elaborate gold and colors we've just discussed. This style had a significant impact on the early art of England, where it was particularly embraced, eventually developing a character that became uniquely national. This is the style of outline drawing that occupies a prominent place in the Anglo-Saxon manuscripts of the 10th and 11th centuries.

We have already seen how the Celtic style of ornamentation was introduced into the north of England. Thence it appears to have spread rapidly southward. As early as the beginning of the 8th century it was practised at Anglo-Saxon. Canterbury, as is testified by a famous psalter in the British Museum (Cott. MS. Vespasian A. 1), in which much of the ornament is of Celtic type. But the same MS. is also witness to the presence of another influence in English art, that of the classical style of Rome, certain details of the ornament being of that character and a miniature in the MS. being altogether of the classical type. With little hesitation this element may be ascribed to MSS. brought from Rome, in the first instance by St Augustine, and afterwards by the incoming missionaries who succeeded him, and deposited in such centres as Canterbury and Winchester. But this importation of MSS. from Italy was not confined to the south. We have distinct evidence that they were brought into northern monasteries, such as those of Jarrow and Wearmouth and York. Thus the English artists of both south and north were in a position to take advantage of material from two sources; and they naturally did so. Thus we find that mingling of the Celtic and classical styles just noticed. In this way, early grown accustomed to take classical models for their drawings, the Anglo-Saxon artists were the more susceptible to the later development of the classical style of outline drawing which was next introduced into the country from the continent. The earliest MS. in which this style of drawing is exhibited in fullest detail is the volume known as the Utrecht Psalter, once in the Cottonian Library, in which the text of the psalms is profusely illustrated with minute pen-sketches remarkably full of detail. The period of the MS. is about the year 800; and it was probably executed in the north or north-east of France. But the special interest of the drawings is that they are evidently copies of much older models and provide a valuable link with the late classical art of some two or three centuries earlier. The work is very sketchy, the movement of the draperies indicated by lightly scribbled strokes of the pen, the limbs elongated, the shoulders humped—all characteristic features which are repeated in the later Anglo-Saxon work. The drawings of the Utrecht Psalter are clearly typical examples of a style which, founded on Roman models, must at one time have been widely practised in western Europe. For instance, there are traces of it in such a centre as St Gallen in Switzerland, and there are extant MSS. of the Psychomachia of Prudentius (a favourite work) with drawings of this character which were executed in France in the 10th century. But the style does not appear to have taken much hold on the fancy of continental artists. It was reserved for England to welcome and to make this free drawing her own, and to develop it especially in the great school of illumination at Winchester. Introduced probably in such examples as the Utrecht Psalter and copies of the Psychomachia, this free drawing of semi-classical origin had fully established itself here in the course of the 10th century, and by that time had assumed a national character. A fair number of MSS. of the 10th and 11th centuries which issued from the Winchester school are still to be seen among the collections of the British museum, in most of which the light style of outline drawing with the characteristic fluttering drapery is more or less predominant, although body colours were also freely employed in many examples. But the most elaborate specimen of Anglo-Saxon illumination of the 10th century is one belonging to the duke of Devonshire: the Benedictional of the see of Winchester, executed under the direction of Æthelwold, bishop from 963 to 984, which contains a series of miniatures, in this instance in body colours, but drawn in the unmistakable style of the new school. In the scheme of decoration, however, another influence is at work. As England had sent forth its early Celtic designs to modify the art of the Frankish empire, so the Carolingian style of ornament now, in its turn, makes its way into this country, and appears in the purely ornamental details of the Anglo-Saxon illuminated volumes. The frames of the miniatures are chiefly composed of conventional foliage, and the same architectural leaf-mouldings of classical origin which are seen in the foreign MSS. are here repeated. Profuse gilding also, which is frequently applied, sometimes with silver, is due to foreign influence. But this character of decoration soon assumed a national cast. Under the hands of the Anglo-Saxon artist the conventional foliage flourished with greater freedom; and the colouring which he applied was generally softer and more harmonious than that which was employed abroad. Examples of outline drawing of the best type exist in the Harleian Psalter (No. 2904), of the same period as the Æthelwold Benedictional; in the register of New Minster (Stowe MS. 944), A.D. 1016-1020; and in the Prudentius (Cotton MS. Cleop. C. viii.), executed early in the 11th century.

We have already seen how the Celtic style of decoration was brought into northern England. From there, it seems to have quickly spread southward. By the early 8th century, it was being practiced in Anglo-Saxon. Canterbury, as evidenced by a famous psalter in the British Museum (Cott. MS. Vespasian A. 1), which contains a lot of Celtic-style ornamentation. However, this manuscript also showcases another influence on English art: the classical style from Rome. Some ornamental details have that characteristic, and a miniature in the manuscript is entirely classical. This element can likely be traced back to manuscripts brought from Rome initially by St. Augustine and later by missionaries who followed him, deposited in centers like Canterbury and Winchester. But this influx of manuscripts from Italy wasn’t limited to the south. We have clear evidence that they were also brought into northern monasteries, such as those in Jarrow, Wearmouth, and York. Therefore, English artists in both the south and north had access to materials from two sources, which they naturally utilized. This is how we see the blending of Celtic and classical styles. With the early artists already used to classical models for their drawings, the Anglo-Saxon artists became even more receptive to the later development of classical outline drawing that came next from the continent. The earliest manuscript displaying this drawing style in detail is the volume known as the Utrecht Psalter, once part of the Cottonian Library, which richly illustrates the text of the psalms with tiny pen-sketches that are remarkably detailed. This manuscript dates back to around the year 800 and was likely created in the north or northeast of France. The intriguing aspect of these drawings is that they clearly copy much older models, providing a valuable link to late classical art from two to three centuries earlier. The work appears very sketchy, with the movement of the draperies indicated by lightly scribbled pen strokes, elongated limbs, and humped shoulders—all characteristic features repeated in later Anglo-Saxon work. The drawings in the Utrecht Psalter are clearly typical examples of a style based on Roman models that must have once been widely practiced across western Europe. For instance, there are traces of it in places like St. Gallen in Switzerland, and existing manuscripts of Prudentius's Psychomachia (a favorite work) feature drawings of this type that were created in France during the 10th century. However, it appears that this style did not capture the attention of continental artists very much. England took it upon itself to embrace and adopt this free drawing style, particularly through the great school of illumination at Winchester. Likely introduced through examples like the Utrecht Psalter and copies of the Psychomachia, this free drawing of semi-classical origins fully established itself here during the 10th century, developing a national character by that time. A fair number of 10th and 11th-century manuscripts from the Winchester school can still be seen in the collections of the British Museum, most of which prominently feature the light style of outline drawing with its characteristic fluttering drapery, although many examples also utilized body colors extensively. The most ornate specimen of 10th-century Anglo-Saxon illumination belongs to the Duke of Devonshire: the Benedictional of the see of Winchester, created under the direction of Æthelwold, bishop from 963 to 984, which includes a series of miniatures rendered in body colors but drawn in the unmistakable style of the new school. However, in the decorative scheme, another influence is at play. Just as England had sent its early Celtic designs to influence the art of the Frankish empire, the Carolingian style of ornamentation now finds its way into this country, appearing in the purely decorative details of Anglo-Saxon illuminated volumes. The frames of the miniatures mainly consist of conventional foliage along with the same architectural leaf motifs of classical origin seen in foreign manuscripts. Lavish gilding, sometimes combined with silver, also reflects foreign influence. However, this decorative style soon took on a national flavor. Under the hands of the Anglo-Saxon artist, conventional foliage was depicted with greater creativity, and the colors used were generally softer and more harmonious than those used abroad. Notable examples of high-quality outline drawing exist in the Harleian Psalter (No. 2904), from the same period as the Æthelwold Benedictional; in the register of New Minster (Stowe MS. 944), A.D. 1016-1020; and in the Prudentius (Cotton MS. Cleop. C. viii.), created early in the 11th century.

With the Norman Conquest naturally great changes were effected in the illumination of English MSS., as in other 316 branches of art; no doubt to the ultimate improvement of English draughtsmanship. Left to itself the outline drawing Norman. of the Anglo-Saxons, inclining as it did to affectation, would probably have sunk into fantastic exaggeration and feebleness. Brought more directly under Norman domination it resulted in the fine, bold freehand style which is conspicuous in MSS. executed in England in the next three centuries. Then we come to the period when the art of illumination is brought into line in the countries of western Europe, in England and in France, in Flanders and in western Germany, by the splendid outburst of artistic sentiment of the 12th century. This century is the period of large folios providing ample space in their pages for the magnificent initial letters drawn on a grand scale which are to be seen in the great Bibles and psalters of the time. The leading feature is a wealth of foliage with twining and interlacing branches, among which human and animal life is freely introduced, the whole design being thrown into relief by brilliant colours and a generous use of gold. The figure drawing both in miniatures and initials is stiff, the figures elongated but bold, and with sweeping lines in the draperies; and a tendency to represent the latter clinging closely to the limbs is a legacy of the tradition of the later classical style. In England the school of Winchester appears to have maintained the same excellence after the Norman Conquest as before it. A remarkable MS. (Cotton, Nero C. iv.), a psalter of about the year 1160, with a series of fine miniatures, is a good example of its work. In France, Flanders and western Germany we find the same energy in producing boldly ornamented volumes, as in England; a certain heaviness of outline distinguishing the work of the Flemish and German artists from that of the English and French schools. Such MSS. as the Stavelot Bible (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 28,107), of the close of the 11th century, the Bible of Floreffe (Add. MS. 17,737-17,738), of about the year 1160, and the Worms Bible (Harl. MS. 2803-2804), of the same time, are fine specimens of Flemish and German work.

With the Norman Conquest, significant changes occurred in the illumination of English manuscripts, just like in other art forms; undoubtedly leading to improvements in English craftsmanship. If left unaltered, the outline drawing of the Anglo-Saxons, which tended to be overly showy, would likely have devolved into outlandish exaggeration and weakness. However, coming directly under Norman influence resulted in the fine, bold freehand style that stands out in manuscripts created in England over the next three centuries. Then, we enter the period when the art of illumination aligned across Western Europe—in England, France, Flanders, and Western Germany—due to the remarkable creative surge of the 12th century. This century is marked by large folios, which provided ample space on their pages for the stunning initial letters drawn on a grand scale, observable in the great Bibles and psalters of the time. A key feature is a richness of foliage with twisting and interlacing branches, within which human and animal figures are freely integrated, all enhanced by vibrant colors and a generous application of gold. The figure drawing, both in miniatures and initials, is somewhat rigid, with elongated but bold forms and sweeping lines in the drapery; the tendency for the drapery to cling closely to the limbs reflects the legacy of the later classical style. In England, the school of Winchester seems to have preserved its excellence after the Norman Conquest, just as it did before. A notable manuscript (Cotton, Nero C. iv.), a psalter from around 1160 that features a series of fine miniatures, exemplifies this work. In France, Flanders, and Western Germany, we observe the same vigor in producing richly decorated volumes as in England; however, the somewhat heavier outlines set the work of Flemish and German artists apart from that of the English and French schools. Notable manuscripts such as the Stavelot Bible (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 28,107), dating to the end of the 11th century, the Bible of Floreffe (Add. MS. 17,737-17,738), from around 1160, and the Worms Bible (Harl. MS. 2803-2804), from the same period, are excellent examples of Flemish and German craftsmanship.

It is towards the close of the 12th century and in the beginning of the 13th century that the character of illumination settles down on more conventional lines. Hitherto gold had been applied in a liquid state; now it is laid on in leaf 13th Century. and is highly burnished, a process which lends a brilliant effect to initial and miniature. A great change passes over the face of things. The large, bold style gives place to the minute. Volumes decrease in size; the texts are written in close-packed characters; the large and simple is superseded by the small and decorated. The period has arrived when book ornamentation becomes more settled and accurately defined within limits, and starts on the course of regulated expansion which was to run for three hundred years down to the close of the 15th century. In the 13th century the historiated or miniature initial, that is, the initial letter containing within its limits a miniature illustrating the subject of the immediate text, is established as a favourite detail of ornamentation, in addition to the regular independent miniature. Such initials form a prominent feature in the pretty little Bibles which were produced in hundreds at this period. But a still more interesting subject for study is the development of the border which was to have such a luxuriant growth in the 13th, 14th and 15th centuries. Commencing as a pendant from the initial, with terminal in form of bud or cusp, it gradually pushes its way along the margins, unfolding foliage as it proceeds, and in course of time envelopes the entire page of text in a complete framework formulating in each country a national style.

It’s towards the end of the 12th century and the beginning of the 13th century that the style of illumination settles into more traditional patterns. Previously, gold was applied in a liquid form; now it is laid down in leaf 13th century. and is highly polished, creating a brilliant effect on initials and miniatures. A significant change occurs. The large, bold style is replaced by more intricate designs. Volumes become smaller; the texts are written in tightly packed letters; the large and simple give way to the small and ornate. This is the time when book decoration becomes more established and clearly defined within certain limits, starting a regulated expansion that would last for three hundred years until the end of the 15th century. In the 13th century, the historiated or miniature initial—an initial letter that contains a small illustration relating to the text—is established as a popular ornamental feature, alongside the independent miniature. These initials become a prominent aspect of the charming little Bibles that were produced in large numbers during this time. However, an even more fascinating topic for exploration is the development of borders, which would flourish during the 13th, 14th, and 15th centuries. Beginning as a pendant from the initial, with ends shaped like buds or cusps, it gradually extends along the margins, unfurling foliage as it goes, and over time wraps around the entire page of text, creating a complete framework that defines a national style in each country.

In the miniatures of the 13th century the art of England, of France, and of the Low Countries runs very much in one channel. The Flemish art, however, may be generally distinguished from the others by the heavier outline already noticed. The French art is exquisitely exact and clean-cut, and in its best examples it is the perfection of neat-handedness. English art is perhaps less exact, but makes up for any deficiency in this direction by its gracefulness. However, there is often little to choose between the productions of the three countries, and they are hard to distinguish. As an aid for such distinction, among small differences, we may notice the copper tone of French gold contrasting with the purer metal in English MSS.; and the favour shown to deep ultramarine appears to mark French work. But, besides actual illuminated miniature painting, there is also a not inconsiderable amount of freehand illustrative drawing in the MSS. In this particular the English artist maintains the excellence of work which distinguished his ancestors. Such series of delicate drawings, slightly tinted, as those to be seen in the famous Queen Mary’s Psalter (Royal MS. 2 B. vii.), and in other MSS. of the 13th and 14th centuries in the British Museum, are not surpassed by any similar drawings done at the same period in any other country. In the 13th century also comes into vogue the highly decorated diaper-work, generally of lozenges or chequered patterns in brilliant colours and brightly burnished gold. These fill the backgrounds of miniatures and initials, together with other forms of decoration, such as sheets of gold stippled or surface-drawn in various designs. Diapering continued to be practised in all three countries down into the 15th century; and in particular it is applied with exquisite effect in many of the highly-finished MSS. of the artists of Paris.

In the miniatures of the 13th century, the art from England, France, and the Low Countries shares a similar style. However, Flemish art can generally be distinguished by its heavier outlines. French art is incredibly precise and sharp, and in its best examples, it showcases perfect craftsmanship. English art might be less precise, but it compensates for that with its elegance. Still, there is often little difference between the artworks from these three countries, making them hard to tell apart. To help in distinguishing them, one might note the coppery tone of French gold compared to the purer gold in English manuscripts, and the preference for deep ultramarine, which seems to mark French works. Besides actual illuminated miniature painting, there's also a significant amount of freehand illustration in the manuscripts. In this regard, the English artist upholds the quality that characterized his predecessors. Collections of delicate, slightly tinted drawings, like those in the famous Queen Mary’s Psalter (Royal MS. 2 B. vii.) and other manuscripts from the 13th and 14th centuries in the British Museum, are unmatched by similar works from other countries during the same period. The 13th century also saw the rise of highly decorated diaper work, usually featuring diamond or check patterns in bright colors and shiny gold. These designs fill the backgrounds of miniatures and initials, along with other decorative elements, such as gold sheets that are stippled or drawn in various patterns. Diapering continued to be used in all three countries into the 15th century and is particularly refined in many of the beautifully finished manuscripts created by Parisian artists.

To return to the growth of the borders: these continue to be generally of one style in both England and France and in Flanders during the 13th century; but, when with the opening of the 14th century the conventional foliage begins to expand, a divergence ensues. In France and Flanders the three-pointed leaf, or ivy leaf, appears, which soon becomes fixed and flourishes as a typical detail of ornament in French illumination of the 14th and 15th centuries. In England there is less convention, and along with formal branches and leafage, natural growths, such as daisy-buds, acorns, oak leaves, nuts, &c., are also represented.

To go back to the growth of borders: these generally maintain a similar style in both England and France, as well as in Flanders, during the 13th century. However, with the onset of the 14th century, when the typical foliage starts to grow, a divergence occurs. In France and Flanders, the three-pointed leaf, or ivy leaf, emerges, which quickly becomes established and thrives as a common ornamental detail in French illumination of the 14th and 15th centuries. In England, there's less of a conventional approach, and alongside formal branches and leaves, natural elements like daisy buds, acorns, oak leaves, nuts, etc., are also depicted.

Meanwhile German illumination, which in the large MSS. of the 12th century had given high promise, in the following centuries falls away and becomes detached from the western schools, and is, as a general rule, of inferior German. quality, although in the 13th century fine examples are still to be met with. Dark outlines and backgrounds of highly-burnished gold are in favour. At present, however, there is not sufficient published material to enable us to pass a definite judgment on the value of German illumination in the later middle ages. But the researches of scholars are beginning to localize particular styles in certain centres. For example, in Bohemia there was a school of illumination of a higher class, which seems later to have had an influence on English art, as will be noticed presently.

Meanwhile, German illumination, which showed great promise in the large manuscripts of the 12th century, declined in the following centuries and became disconnected from the Western schools. Generally, its quality was inferior, although there are still some fine examples from the 13th century. Dark outlines and backgrounds of highly polished gold were preferred. However, there isn’t enough published material right now to make a definite judgment on the value of German illumination in the later Middle Ages. Scholars' research is starting to pinpoint specific styles in certain centers. For example, in Bohemia, there was a higher-class school of illumination that later influenced English art, as will be noted soon.

We must now turn to Italy, which has been left on one side during our examination of the art of the more western countries. In attempting to bridge the gap which severs the later classical style of Rome from the medieval art of Italy, Italian. much must be left to conjecture. That a debased classical style of drawing was employed in the earlier centuries of the middle ages we cannot doubt. Such a MS. as the Ashburnham Genesis of the 7th century, which contains pictures of a somewhat rude character but based apparently upon a recollection of the classical drawing of earlier times, and which appears to be of Italian origin, serves as a link, however slight. Coming down to a later period, the primitive native art of the Frankish empire, as we have seen, extended into northern Italy under the name of Franco-Lombardic ornamentation; and we have also seen how the art of the Byzantine school reacted on the art of the southern portion of the country. Hence, in the middle ages, the ornamentation of Italian MSS. appears to move on two leading lines. The first, which we owe to the Byzantine influence, in which figure-drawing is the leading idea, follows the old classical method and, showing a distinctly Greek impress, leads to the style which we recognize as Italian par excellence, and which is seen most effectively manifested in the works of Cimabue and Giotto and of allied schools. In this style the colouring is generally opaque: the flesh tints being laid over a foundation of deep olive green, which imparts a swarthy complexion to the features—a practice also common in Byzantine art. The other line is that of the Lombardic style which, like 317 the Celtic school of the British Isles, was an art almost exclusively of pure ornament, of intricate interlacings of arabesques and animal forms, with bright colouring and ample use of gold. The Lombardic style was employed in certain centres, as, for example, at Monte Cassino, where in the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries brilliant examples were produced. But it was not destined to stand before the other, stronger and inherently more artistic, style which was to become national. Still, its scheme of brighter colouring and of general ornament seems to have had an effect upon later productions, if we are not mistaken in recognizing something of its influence in such designs as the interlaced white vine-branch borders which are so conspicuous in Italian MSS. of the period of the Renaissance.

We must now shift our focus to Italy, which we have somewhat overlooked in our discussion of art from western countries. In trying to connect the later classical style of Rome with the medieval art of Italy, Italian cuisine. we can only speculate on much of it. There's no doubt that a less refined classical drawing style was used in the early centuries of the Middle Ages. A manuscript like the Ashburnham Genesis from the 7th century, which has somewhat crude illustrations but seems to be based on memories of classical drawing from earlier times and is likely of Italian origin, serves as a tenuous link. Moving into a later period, we see how the native art of the Frankish empire spread into northern Italy as Franco-Lombardic ornamentation; we've also noted the influence of Byzantine art on the southern part of the country. Thus, during the Middle Ages, the ornamentation of Italian manuscripts seems to evolve along two main paths. The first, influenced by Byzantine art, focuses on figure drawing, adhering to the old classical techniques and showing a distinctly Greek influence, which leads to the style we identify as Italian par excellence, most prominently seen in the works of Cimabue, Giotto, and similar schools. In this style, the coloring is typically opaque: flesh tones are applied over a deep olive green base, giving a darker complexion to the features—a practice also common in Byzantine art. The other path is the Lombardic style, which, like 317 the Celtic art of the British Isles, was mainly ornamental, characterized by intricate interlacings of arabesques and animal forms, with bright colors and extensive use of gold. The Lombardic style found its application in certain centers, such as Monte Cassino, where brilliant examples were created in the 11th, 12th, and 13th centuries. However, it was not meant to compete with the other, stronger, and more inherently artistic style that was to become national. Still, its brighter color schemes and general ornamentation seem to have influenced later works, as we can observe traces of its impact in the interlaced white vine-branch borders that are so prominent in Italian manuscripts from the Renaissance period.

Plate IV.

Plate IV.

DURANDUS. DE DlVINIS OFFICIIS. FOURTEENTH CENTURY. Italian School.
(British Museum. Add. MS. 31,032.)

Plate V.

Plate V.

VALERIUS MAXIMUS. ABOUT CE 1475. Executed for Philippe de Comines.
(British Museum. Harley M.S. 4374.)

The progress of Italian illumination in the style influenced by the Byzantine element is of particular interest in the general history of art, on account of the rapidity with which it grew to maturity, and the splendour to which it 14th Century. attained in the 15th century. Of the earlier centuries the existing examples are not many. That Italian artists were capable of great things as far back as the 12th century is evident from their frescoes. We may notice the curious occurrence of two very masterly paintings, the death of the Virgin and the Virgin enthroned, drawn with remarkable breadth in the Italian style, in the Winchester Psalter (Cottonian MS. Nero C. iv.) of the middle of that century, as a token of the possibilities of Italian illumination at that date; but generally there is little to show. Even at the beginning of the 14th century most of the specimens are of an ordinary character and betray a want of skill in striking contrast with the highly artistic productions of the Northern schools of England and France at the same period. But, though inferior artistically, Italian book ornamentation had by this time been so far influenced by the methods of those schools as to fall into line with them in the general system of decoration. The miniature, the initial, the miniature-initial and the border—all have their place and are subject to the same laws of development as in the other schools. But, once started, Italian illumination in the 14th century, especially in Florence, expanded with extraordinary energy. We may cite the Royal MS. 6, E. ix., containing an address to Robert of Anjou, king of Sicily, 1334-1342, and the Add. MS. 27,428 of legends of the saints, of about the year 1370, as instances of very fine miniature-work of the Florentine type. As the century advances, Italian illumination becomes more prolific and is extended to all classes of MSS., the large volumes of the Decretals and other law books, and still more the great folio choral books, in particular affording ample space for the artist to exercise his fancy. As was natural from the contiguity of the two countries, as well as from political causes, France and Italy influenced each other in the art. In many MSS. of the Florentine school the French influence is very marked, and on the other hand, Italian influence is exercised especially in MSS. of the southern provinces of France. Italian art of this period also in some degree affected the illumination of southern German MSS.

The development of Italian illumination influenced by Byzantine elements is particularly noteworthy in the broader history of art due to how quickly it matured and the brilliance it achieved in the 15th century. There aren't many existing examples from the earlier centuries. However, it’s clear that Italian artists were capable of impressive work as far back as the 12th century, as seen in their frescoes. Notably, there are two remarkable paintings, the death of the Virgin and the Virgin enthroned, drawn with a striking breadth in the Italian style, found in the Winchester Psalter (Cottonian MS. Nero C. iv.) from the middle of that century, showcasing the potential of Italian illumination at that time; but overall, there’s little to display. Even at the start of the 14th century, most examples are fairly ordinary and reveal a lack of skill, especially when compared to the highly artistic works from the Northern schools of England and France during the same period. Despite being artistically inferior, Italian book decoration had by this time been significantly influenced by those methods and conformed to their general decorative system. The miniature, the initial, the miniature-initial, and the border all have their established roles and follow the same developmental rules as other schools. However, once it began, Italian illumination in the 14th century, particularly in Florence, expanded with remarkable vigor. We can reference Royal MS. 6, E. ix., which contains an address to Robert of Anjou, king of Sicily, from 1334-1342, and Add. MS. 27,428 with legends of the saints, around the year 1370, as examples of excellent miniature work of the Florentine style. As the century progresses, Italian illumination grows more prolific and spreads across all types of manuscripts, with larger volumes like the Decretals and other law books, as well as great folio choral books, providing ample space for artists to express their creativity. Naturally, due to their proximity and political factors, France and Italy influenced each other’s art. In many manuscripts from the Florentine school, the French influence is evident, while conversely, Italian influence appears prominently in manuscripts from the southern regions of France. The Italian art from this era also somewhat impacted the illumination of southern German manuscripts.

We have also to note the occurrence in Italy in the 14th century of good illustrative outline drawings, generally tinted in light colours, and occasionally we meet with a wonderfully bright style of illumination of a lighter cast of colouring than usually prevails in Italian art: such as may be seen in a MS. of Durandus De divinis oficiis (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 31,032) containing an exquisite series of initials and borders.

We also need to point out that in 14th century Italy, there were great illustrative outline drawings, usually tinted in light colors. Occasionally, we come across a remarkably bright style of illumination that has a lighter color scheme than is typically found in Italian art. An example of this can be seen in a manuscript of Durandus's De divinis officiis (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 31,032), which features a beautiful series of initials and borders.

Taking a general view of the character of European illumination in the 14th century it may be described as an art of great invention and flexibility. The rigid exactness of the 13th century is replaced by flowing lines, just as the stiff, formal strokes of the handwriting of that century was exchanged for a more cursive and easy style. The art of each individual country now developed a national type of its own, which again branched off into the different styles of provincial schools. For example, in the eastern counties of England a very fine school of illumination, the East Anglian, was established in the first half of the century and produced a series of beautiful MSS., such as the Arundel Psalter (No. 83) in the British Museum.

Taking a broad look at the character of European illumination in the 14th century, it can be described as an art full of creativity and flexibility. The strict precision of the 13th century gave way to flowing lines, much like how the rigid, formal handwriting of that time was swapped for a more cursive and relaxed style. Each country’s art began to develop its own national type, which further branched into different styles from regional schools. For instance, in the eastern counties of England, a notable school of illumination, the East Anglian, emerged in the first half of the century and produced a series of beautiful manuscripts, such as the Arundel Psalter (No. 83) in the British Museum.

By the end of the century the borders had developed on national lines so fully as to become, more than any other detail in the general scheme, the readiest means of identifying the country of origin. First as to the English border: Distinctive Borders. the favour shown to the introduction of natural growths among the conventional foliage thrown out from the frame into which the border had by this time expanded has already been noticed. But now a new feature is introduced. The frame up to this time had consisted generally of conventional branches with bosses at the corners. Now it is divided more into compartments within which twining coils of ornament resembling cut feather-work are common details; and feathery scrolls fill the corner-bosses and are attached to other parts of the frame; while the foliage thrown out into the margin takes the form of sprays of curious lobe- or spoon-shaped and lozenge-shaped leaves or flowers, with others resembling curled feathers, and with cup- and trumpet-shaped flowers. This new style of border is contemporaneous with the appearance of a remarkably brilliant style in the miniatures, good in drawing and rich in colouring; and an explanation for the change has been sought in foreign influence. It has been suggested, with some plausibility, that this influence comes from the school of Prague, through the marriage of Richard II. with Anne of Bohemia in 1382. However this may be, there certainly is a decidedly German sentiment in the feathery scrolls just described.

By the end of the century, the borders had evolved along national lines so much that they became, more than any other detail in the overall design, the easiest way to identify the country of origin. Let's start with the English border: Unique Borders. The trend of incorporating natural elements among the standard foliage that extended from the frame, which had expanded by this time, has already been noted. But now a new feature has emerged. The frame, which until now mostly consisted of traditional branches with decorative elements at the corners, is now divided into more sections. Within these sections, twisting coils of ornamentation resembling cut featherwork are common, and feathery scrolls fill the corner decorations while connecting to other areas of the frame. Meanwhile, the foliage extending into the margin takes on the shape of sprays of unusual lobe- or spoon-shaped leaves or flowers, along with others that look like curled feathers, as well as cup- and trumpet-shaped flowers. This new style of border coincides with the emergence of an impressively vibrant style in miniatures, which are good in drawing and rich in color. An explanation for this change has been sought in foreign influences. It has been suggested, with some credibility, that this influence originates from the school of Prague, following the marriage of Richard II to Anne of Bohemia in 1382. Regardless of how it came about, there is definitely a German sentiment in the feathery scrolls just described.

Turning to the French border, we find towards the close of the 14th century that the early ivy-leaf pendant has now invaded all the margins and that the page is set in a conventional frame throwing off on every side sprigs and waving scrolls of the conventional ivy foliage, often also accompanied with very delicate compact tracery of minute flower-work filling the background of the frame. Nothing can be more charming than the effect of such borders, in which the general design is under perfect control. The character, too, of the French miniature of this period harmonizes thoroughly with the brilliant border, composed as it is very largely of decorative elements, such as diapered patterns and details of burnished gold. In the Low Countries, as was natural, the influence of French art continued to have great weight, at least in the western provinces where the style of illumination followed the French lead.

Turning to the French border, we see that by the end of the 14th century, the early ivy-leaf pendant had taken over all the margins. The page is framed in a traditional style, adorned with sprigs and flowing scrolls of ivy leaves, often accompanied by intricate designs of tiny flowers filling the background of the frame. The charm of these borders is unmistakable, with the overall design perfectly balanced. The style of French miniatures from this period also blends well with the vivid borders, which are mainly made up of decorative elements like patterned backgrounds and details in polished gold. In the Low Countries, it’s not surprising that the influence of French art remained strong, especially in the western provinces where the style of illumination followed the French example.

The Italian border in its ordinary form was of independent character, although following the methods of the West. Thrown out from the initial, it first took the form of pendants of a peculiarly heavy conventional curling foliage, associated, as progress was made, with slender rods jointed at intervals with bud-like ornaments and extending along the margins; at length expanding into a frame. The employment of gilt spots or pellets to fill spaces in the pendants and borders becomes very marked as the century advances. They are at first in a simple form, but they gradually throw out rays, and in the latter shape they become the chief constituents of one kind of border of the 15th century.

The Italian border, in its typical style, was distinctively independent, though influenced by Western methods. Initially, it took the shape of heavy, curling foliage pendants that, as time went on, became paired with slender rods connected at intervals with bud-like ornaments, extending along the edges; eventually, it evolved into a frame. The use of gilt spots or pellets to fill in the spaces within the pendants and borders becomes very prominent as the century progresses. They start off in a simple form, but gradually develop rays, and in this later style, they become key elements of a specific type of border from the 15th century.

Illumination in the 15th century enters on a new phase. The balance is no longer evenly maintained between the relative values of the miniature and the border as factors in the general scheme of decoration. The influence 15th Century. of a new sentiment in art makes itself felt more and more; the flat treatment of the miniature gradually gives place to true laws of perspective and of figure-drawing, and to the depth and atmospheric effects of modern painting. Miniature painting in the decoration of MSS. now became more of a trade; what in old times had been done in the cloister was now done in the shop; and the professional miniaturist, working for his own fame, took the place of the nameless monk who worked for the credit of his house. Henceforth the miniature occupies a more important place than ever in the illuminated MS.; while the border, with certain important exceptions, is apt to recede into an inferior position and to become rather an ornamental adjunct to set off the miniature than a work of art claiming equality with it.

Illumination in the 15th century enters a new phase. The balance between the relative values of the miniature and the border in the overall decoration is no longer even. The influence of a new artistic sentiment becomes increasingly evident; the flat treatment of the miniature gradually gives way to real principles of perspective and figure drawing, along with the depth and atmospheric effects seen in modern painting. Miniature painting in the decoration of manuscripts now became more of a trade; what was once done in the cloister is now done in the shop, and the professional miniaturist, working for their own recognition, takes the place of the nameless monk who worked for the reputation of their community. From now on, the miniature holds a more important position than ever in the illuminated manuscript; while the border, with some notable exceptions, tends to recede into a secondary role, becoming more of an ornamental addition to enhance the miniature rather than an equal work of art.

Continuing the survey of the several national styles, we shall have to witness the final supersession of the older styles of 318 England and France by the later developments of Italy and Flanders. We left English illumination at the close of the 14th century strengthened by a fresh infusion of apparently a foreign, perhaps Bohemian, source. The style thus evolved marks a brilliant but short-lived epoch in English art. It is not confined to MSS., but appears also in the paintings of the time, as, for example, in the portrait of Richard II. in Westminster Abbey and in that in the Wilton triptych belonging to the earl of Pembroke. Delicate but brilliant colouring, gold worked in stippled patterns and a careful modelling of the human features are its characteristics. In MSS. also the decorative borders, of the new pattern already described, are of exceptional richness. Brilliant examples of the style, probably executed for Richard himself, may be seen in a magnificent Bible (Royal MS. 1, E. ix.), and in a series of cuttings from a missal (Add. MS. 29,704-29,705) in the British Museum. But the promise of this new school was not to be fulfilled. The same style of border decoration was carried into the 15th century, and good examples are found down to the middle of it, but a general deterioration soon sets in. Two MSS. must, however, be specially mentioned as surviving instances of the fine type of work which could still be turned out early in the century; and, curiously, they are both the productions of one and the same illuminator, the Dominican, John Siferwas. The first is a fragmentary Lectionary (Brit. Mus., Harl. MS., 7026) executed for John, Lord Lovel of Tichmersh, who died in 1408; the other is the famous Sherborne Missal, the property of the duke of Northumberland, a large volume completed about the same time for the Benedictine abbey of Sherborne in Dorsetshire. Certainly other MSS. of equal excellence must have existed; but they have now perished. After the middle of the 15th century English illumination may be said to have ceased, for the native style disappears before foreign imported art. This failure is sufficiently accounted for by the political state of the country and the distractions of the War of the Roses.

Continuing the exploration of various national styles, we will witness the complete replacement of the older styles from 318 England and France by the later developments from Italy and Flanders. We left English illumination at the end of the 14th century, boosted by a new influence that seems to come from abroad, possibly Bohemia. The style that developed marks a vibrant but brief period in English art. It’s not just seen in manuscripts; it also shows up in contemporary paintings, like the portrait of Richard II in Westminster Abbey and in the one in the Wilton triptych owned by the Earl of Pembroke. The characteristics of this style include delicate yet vibrant colors, gold applied in stippled patterns, and careful modeling of human features. In manuscripts, the decorative borders of the new design are exceptionally rich. Stunning examples of this style, likely created for Richard himself, can be found in a magnificent Bible (Royal MS. 1, E. ix.) and in a series of cuttings from a missal (Add. MS. 29,704-29,705) in the British Museum. However, the potential of this new school wasn’t realized. The same style of border decoration continued into the 15th century, and good examples can be found until the middle of it, but a general decline soon began. Two manuscripts must be specifically mentioned as surviving examples of the fine quality of work that could still be produced early in the century; interestingly, both were created by the same illuminator, the Dominican, John Siferwas. The first is a fragmentary Lectionary (Brit. Mus., Harl. MS. 7026) made for John, Lord Lovel of Tichmersh, who died in 1408; the other is the famous Sherborne Missal, owned by the Duke of Northumberland, a large volume completed around the same time for the Benedictine abbey of Sherborne in Dorsetshire. Certainly, there must have been other manuscripts of equal quality; however, they have now been lost. After the middle of the 15th century, English illumination can be said to have come to an end, as the native style vanished in favor of imported foreign art. This decline can be largely explained by the political conditions in the country and the distractions of the War of the Roses.

In France the 15th century opened more auspiciously for the art of illumination. Brilliant colouring and the diapered background glittering with gold, the legacy of the previous century, still continue in favour for some time; the border, too, of ivy-leaf tracery still holds its own. But in actual drawing there are signs, as time advances, of growing carelessness, and the artist appears to think more of the effect of colour than of draughtsmanship. This was only natural at a time when the real landscape began to replace the background of diaper and conventional rocks and trees. In the first quarter of the century the school of Paris comes prominently to the front with such magnificent volumes as the Book of Hours of the regent, John Plantagenet, duke of Bedford, now in the British Museum; and the companion MS. known as the Sobieski Hours, at Windsor. In these examples, as is always the case with masterpieces, we see a great advance upon earlier methods. The miniatures are generally exquisitely painted in brilliant colours and the drawing is of a high standard; and in the borders now appear natural flowers intermingled with the conventional tracery—a new idea which was to be carried further as the century advanced. The Psalter executed at Paris for the boy-king Henry VI. (Cotton MS. Domitian A. xviii.) is another example of this school, rather of earlier type than the Bedford MS., but beautifully painted. In all three MSS. the borders show no lack of finish; they are of a high standard and are worthy of the miniatures. But perhaps the very finest miniature-work to be found in any MS. of French origin of this period is the breviary (Harl. MS. 2897) illuminated for John the Fearless, duke of Burgundy, who was assassinated in 1419. It could hardly be surpassed in refinement and minuteness of detail.

In France, the 15th century started off on a positive note for the art of illumination. The brilliant colors and the patterned backgrounds sparkling with gold, a holdover from the previous century, remained popular for a while; the ivy-leaf border designs also continued to thrive. However, as time went on, there were signs of growing carelessness in the actual drawing, with artists seeming to focus more on color effects than on draftsmanship. This shift was natural at a time when realistic landscapes began to replace the patterned backgrounds of conventional rocks and trees. In the first part of the century, the Parisian school gained prominence with stunning volumes like the Book of Hours of the regent, John Plantagenet, duke of Bedford, now in the British Museum; and the companion manuscript known as the Sobieski Hours, located at Windsor. In these masterpieces, as is often the case with great works, we see significant advancements from earlier methods. The miniatures are typically beautifully painted in vibrant colors, and the drawing is of a high quality; the borders now feature natural flowers mixed with traditional tracery—a new concept that would be further developed as the century progressed. The Psalter created in Paris for the boy-king Henry VI (Cotton MS. Domitian A. xviii.) is another example of this school, leaning towards an earlier style than the Bedford manuscript but beautifully painted nonetheless. In all three manuscripts, the borders show excellent detail; they are of high quality and worthy of the miniatures. Yet, perhaps the finest miniature work from any French manuscript from this period is the breviary (Harl. MS. 2897) illuminated for John the Fearless, duke of Burgundy, who was assassinated in 1419. Its refinement and meticulous detail are nearly unmatched.

Development towards the modern methods of painting moves on rapidly with the century. First, the border in the middle period grows florid; the simpler ivy-spray design, which had held its position so long, is gradually pushed away by a growth of flowering scrolls, with flowers, birds and animal and insect life introduced in more or less profusion. But henceforward deterioration increases, and the border becomes subsidiary. In the case of miniatures following the old patterns of the devotional and liturgical books, a certain restraint still prevails; but with those in other works, histories and romances and general literature, where the paintings are devised by the fancy of the artist, the advance is rapid. The recognition of the natural landscape, the perception of atmospheric effects now guide the artist’s brush, and the modern French school of the second half of the 15th century is fairly established. The most celebrated leaders of this school were Jean Foucquet of Tours and his sons, many of whose works still bear witness to their skill. In the MSS. of this school the influence of the Flemish contemporary art is very obvious; and before the advance of that art French illumination receded. A certain hardness of surface and want of depth characterize the French work of this time, as well as the practice of employing gilt hatching to obtain the high lights. This practice is carried to excess in the latest examples of French illumination in the early part of the 16th century, when the art became mechanical and overloaded with ornament, and thus expired.

Development toward modern painting methods is progressing rapidly in this century. Initially, the border in the middle period becomes elaborate; the simpler ivy-spray design that had been popular for so long is gradually replaced by more intricate flowering scrolls featuring flowers, birds, and various animals and insects. However, from this point on, decline increases, and the border becomes less important. In miniatures that follow the traditional patterns of devotional and liturgical books, there’s still a level of restraint; but in other works like histories, romances, and general literature, where the paintings are driven by the artist's imagination, the progress is swift. The recognition of natural landscapes and the understanding of atmospheric effects now guide the artist's brush, and the modern French school of the late 15th century is well established. The most notable figures of this school were Jean Foucquet of Tours and his sons, many of whose works still demonstrate their skill. In the manuscripts from this school, the influence of contemporary Flemish art is quite clear, and before this art advanced, French illumination declined. A certain rigidity and lack of depth mark the French work of this period, along with the practice of using gold hatching to achieve highlights. This technique is pushed to extremes in the latest examples of French illumination in the early 16th century, when the art became mechanical and overloaded with decoration, ultimately leading to its decline.

It has been seen that the Flemish school of illumination in the 13th and 14th centuries followed the French model. In the 15th century, while the old tradition continued in force for a while, the art developed on an independent line; and in the second half of the century it exercised a widespread influence on the neighbouring countries, on France, on Holland and on Germany. This development was one of the results of the industrial and artistic activity of the Low Countries at this period, when the school of the Van Eycks and their followers, and of other artists of the great and wealthy cities, such as Bruges, Antwerp, Ghent, were so prolific. The Flemish miniatures naturally followed on the lines of painting. The new style was essentially modern, freeing itself from the traditions of medieval illumination and copying nature. Under the hand of the Flemish artist the landscape attained to great perfection, softness and depth of colouring, the leading attribute of the school, lending a particular charm and sense of reality to his out-door scenes. His closer observation of nature is testified also in the purely decorative part of his work. Flowers, insects, birds and other natural objects now frequent the border, the origin of which is finally forgotten. It ceases to be a connected growth wandering round the page; it becomes a flat frame of dull gold or colour, over which isolated objects, flowers, fruits, insects, butterflies, are strewn, painted with naturalistic accuracy and often made, by means of strong shadows, to stand out in relief against the background. This practice was soon carried to florid excess, and all kinds of objects, including jewels and personal ornaments, were pressed into the service of the border, in addition to the details copied from nature. The soft beauty of the later Flemish style proved very attractive to the taste of the day, with the result that it maintained a high standard well on into the 16th century, the only rivals being the MSS. of Italian art. The names of celebrated miniaturists, such as Memlinc, Simon Bening of Ghent, Gerard of Bruges, are associated with its productions; and many famous extant examples bear witness to the excellence to which it attained. The Grimani Breviary at Venice is one of the best known MSS. of the school; but almost every national library has specimens to boast of. Among those in the British Museum may be mentioned the breviary of Queen Isabella of Spain (Add. MS. 18,851); the Book of Hours of Juana of Castille (Add. MS. 18,852); a very beautiful Book of Hours executed at Bruges (Egerton MS. 2125); another exquisite but fragmentary MS. of the same type (Add. MS. 24,098) and cuttings from a calendar of the finest execution (Add. MS. 18,855) ascribed to Bening of Ghent; a series of large sheets of genealogies of the royal houses of Portugal and Spain (Add. MS. 12,531) by the same master and others; and late additions to the Sforza Book of Hours (Add. MS. 34,294).

It has been observed that the Flemish school of illumination in the 13th and 14th centuries followed the French model. In the 15th century, while the old tradition continued for a time, the art began to develop independently; and in the second half of the century, it significantly influenced neighboring countries—France, Holland, and Germany. This development was partly due to the industrial and artistic activities in the Low Countries during this time, when the Van Eycks and their followers, along with other artists from the great and wealthy cities like Bruges, Antwerp, and Ghent, were particularly prolific. The Flemish miniatures naturally aligned with the styles of painting. The new style was fundamentally modern, breaking free from the traditions of medieval illumination and drawing inspiration from nature. Under the Flemish artist's skill, landscapes achieved remarkable perfection, softness, and depth of color, which became a defining feature of the school, adding a special charm and realism to outdoor scenes. His keen observation of nature is also evident in the decorative aspects of his work. Flowers, insects, birds, and other natural elements frequently appeared in the borders, their original designs now forgotten. The border transformed from a connected growth winding around the page into a flat frame of dull gold or color, adorned with isolated objects—flowers, fruits, insects, and butterflies—depicted with realistic accuracy and often highlighted with strong shadows to create depth against the background. This approach soon evolved into elaborate excess, incorporating all sorts of objects, including jewels and personal ornaments, in addition to nature-inspired details. The soft beauty of the later Flemish style was highly appealing to contemporary tastes, allowing it to maintain a high standard well into the 16th century, with the only competition coming from Italian art manuscripts. The names of renowned miniaturists like Memlinc, Simon Bening of Ghent, and Gerard of Bruges are linked to its works, and many famous surviving examples attest to the excellence it reached. The Grimani Breviary in Venice is one of the best-known manuscripts of the school; however, almost every national library showcases specimens. In the British Museum, for instance, one can find the breviary of Queen Isabella of Spain (Add. MS. 18,851); the Book of Hours of Juana of Castille (Add. MS. 18,852); a beautifully crafted Book of Hours completed in Bruges (Egerton MS. 2125); another exquisite but incomplete manuscript of the same type (Add. MS. 24,098); and cuttings from an elegantly executed calendar (Add. MS. 18,855) attributed to Bening of Ghent; a series of large genealogical sheets of the royal houses of Portugal and Spain (Add. MS. 12,531) by the same master and others; along with later additions to the Sforza Book of Hours (Add. MS. 34,294).

But, besides the brilliantly coloured style of Flemish illumination which has been described, there was another which was practised with great effect in the 15th century. This was the simpler style of drawing in white delicately shaded to indicate 319 the contour of figures and the folds of drapery, &c., known as grisaille or camaïeu gris. It was not indeed confined to the Flemish schools, but was practised also to some extent and to good effect in northern France, and also in Holland and other countries; but the centre of its activity appears to have been in the Low Countries. The excellence to which it attained may be seen in the MSS. of the Miracles de Nostre Dame now in Paris and the Bodleian Library, which were executed for Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy, in the middle of the 15th century.

But in addition to the vibrant style of Flemish illumination that has been described, there was another style that was very effective in the 15th century. This was the simpler drawing technique using white, delicately shaded to outline the shapes of figures and the folds of fabric, etc., known as grisaille or camaïeu gris. It wasn't limited to Flemish schools; it was also practiced, to some extent and with good results, in northern France, as well as in Holland and other countries. However, its main activity seems to have been in the Low Countries. The high quality it achieved can be seen in the manuscripts of the Miracles de Nostre Dame now in Paris and the Bodleian Library, which were created for Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, in the mid-15th century.

Of the Dutch school of illumination, which was connected with that of Flanders, there is little to be said. Judging from existing examples, the art was generally of a more rustic and coarser type. There are, however, exceptions. A MS. in the British Museum (King’s MS. 5) of the beginning of the 15th century contains scenes from the life of Christ in which the features are carefully modelled, very much after the style of English work of the same time; and some of the specimens of Dutch work in camaïeu gris are excellent.

Of the Dutch school of illumination, which was connected to that of Flanders, there's not much to say. Based on existing examples, the art was generally more rustic and coarser. However, there are exceptions. A manuscript in the British Museum (King’s MS. 5) from the early 15th century contains scenes from the life of Christ where the features are carefully modeled, similar to the style of English work from that same period; and some examples of Dutch work in camaïeu gris are exceptional.

German illumination in the 15th century appears to have largely copied the Flemish style; but it lost the finer qualities of its pattern, and in decoration it inclined to extravagance. Where the Flemish artist was content with single flowers gracefully placed, the German filled his borders with straggling plants and foliage and with large flourished scrolls.

German illumination in the 15th century seems to have largely imitated the Flemish style, but it lost the finer details of its design and became more extravagant in decoration. While the Flemish artist was satisfied with elegantly placed single flowers, the German artist crowded his borders with sprawling plants, foliage, and large, elaborate scrolls.

Italian illumination, which had developed so rapidly in the 14th century, now advanced with accelerated pace and expanded into a variety of styles, more or less local, culminating in the exquisite productions of the classical renaissance in the latter half of the 15th century. As in the other national styles of France and Flanders, the Italian miniaturist quickly abandoned the conventional for the natural landscape; but with more character both in the figure-drawing and in the actual representation of scenery. The colouring is brilliant, not of the softness of the Flemish school, but of stronger and harder body; the outlines are firm and crisp and details well delineated. The Florentine, the Lombard, the Venetian, the Neapolitan and other schools flourished; and, though they borrowed details from each other, each had something distinctive in its scheme of colouring. The border developed on several lines. The rayed gold spots or studs or pellets, which were noticed in the 14th century, are now grouped in profusion along the margins and in the interstices of delicate flowering and other designs. Another favourite detail in the composition of both initials and borders was the twining vine tendril, generally in white or gold upon a coloured ground, apparently a revival of the interlacing Lombardic work of the 11th and 12th centuries. At first, restrained and not too complex, it fills the body of initials and short borders; then it rapidly expands, and the convolutions and interlacings become more and more elaborate. Lastly came the completed solid frame into which are introduced arabesques, vignettes, candelabras, trophies, vases, medallions, antique gems, cupids, fawns, birds, &c., and all that the fancy led by the spirit of classical renaissance could suggest. Among the principal Italian MSS. of the 15th century in the British Museum there are: a copy of Plutarch’s Lives, with miniatures in a remarkable style (Add. MS. 22,318); Aristotle’s Ethics, translated into Spanish by Charles, prince of Viana, probably executed in Sicily about 1458 (Add. MS. 21,120); a breviary of Santa Croce at Florence, late in the century (Add. MS. 29,735); Livy’s History of the Macedonian War, of the Neapolitan school, late in the century (Harl. MS. 3694); and, above all, the remarkable Book of Hours of Bona Sforza of Savoy of about the year 1490 (Add. MS. 34,291); besides a fair number of MSS. exhibiting the rich colouring of the Venetian school.

Italian illumination, which grew rapidly in the 14th century, now progressed at an even faster pace and diversified into various styles, each with its local flair, reaching a peak in the stunning works of the classical Renaissance in the latter half of the 15th century. Similar to other national styles from France and Flanders, the Italian miniaturist quickly shifted from conventional to natural landscapes, displaying more character in both figure drawing and actual scenery representation. The colors are vibrant, distinct from the softer tones of the Flemish school, featuring stronger and denser pigments; the outlines are bold and sharp, with details clearly defined. The Florentine, Lombard, Venetian, Neapolitan, and other schools thrived; while they borrowed elements from one another, each maintained something unique in its color schemes. Borders evolved in several ways. The golden rayed spots or studs that appeared in the 14th century now cluster abundantly along margins and within the gaps of delicate floral and other designs. Another popular element in the design of initials and borders was the twisting vine tendril, typically in white or gold on a colored background, seemingly a revival of the interlaced Lombardic work from the 11th and 12th centuries. Initially simple and not overly intricate, it occupies the interiors of initials and short borders; then it quickly expands, with the twists and interlacings becoming increasingly elaborate. Lastly, a complete solid frame emerged, incorporating arabesques, vignettes, candelabras, trophies, vases, medallions, antique gems, cupids, fawns, birds, etc., along with everything that imagination, fueled by the spirit of the classical Renaissance, could inspire. Among the main Italian manuscripts from the 15th century in the British Museum are: a copy of Plutarch’s Lives, featuring miniatures in a remarkable style (Add. MS. 22,318); Aristotle’s Ethics, translated into Spanish by Charles, prince of Viana, likely produced in Sicily around 1458 (Add. MS. 21,120); a breviary from Santa Croce in Florence, late in the century (Add. MS. 29,735); Livy’s History of the Macedonian War, from the Neapolitan school, late in the century (Harl. MS. 3694); and, most notably, the extraordinary Book of Hours belonging to Bona Sforza of Savoy from around 1490 (Add. MS. 34,291); along with a good number of manuscripts showcasing the rich colors of the Venetian school.

Like that of the French and Flemish schools, Italian illumination survived into the 16th century, and for a time showed vigour. Very elaborate borders of the classical type and of good design were still produced. But, as in other countries, it was then a dying art. The attempt to graft illumination on to books produced by the printing press, which were now displacing the hand-written volumes with which the art had always been associated, proved, except in a few rare instances, a failure. The experiment did not succeed; and the art was dead.

Like the French and Flemish schools, Italian illumination continued into the 16th century and for a while still showed vitality. Very intricate borders in the classical style and of high quality were still created. However, like in other countries, it was a dying art. The effort to combine illumination with books produced by the printing press, which were now replacing the handwritten volumes that had always been linked to the art, largely failed, except in a few rare cases. The experiment didn’t succeed, and the art was effectively gone.

It remains to say a few words respecting the book ornamentation of the Peninsula. In the earlier centuries of the middle ages there appears to have been scarcely anything worthy of note. The Mozarabic liturgies and biblical Spain. MSS. of the 9th to 12th centuries are adorned with initial letters closely allied to the primitive specimens of the Merovingian and Franco-Lombardic pattern, and coloured with the same crude tints; the larger letters also being partly composed of interlaced designs. But the style is barbaric. Such illustrative drawings as are to be found are also of a most primitive character. Moorish influence is apparent in the colours, particularly in the yellows, reds and blacks. In the later middle ages no national school of illumination was developed, owing to political conditions. When in the 15th century a demand arose for illuminated MSS., recourse was had to foreign artists. Flemish art naturally was imported, and French art on the one side and Italian art on the other accompanied it. In the breviary executed for Queen Isabella of Spain about the year 1497 (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 18,851) we find a curious random association of miniatures and borders in both the French and the Flemish styles, the national taste for black, however, asserting itself in the borders where, in many instances, the usual coloured designs are replaced by black-tinted foliage and scrolls.

It’s worth saying a few words about the book decoration of the Peninsula. In the earlier centuries of the Middle Ages, there seems to have been almost nothing noteworthy. The Mozarabic liturgies and biblical Spain. manuscripts from the 9th to 12th centuries feature initial letters closely related to the basic examples of the Merovingian and Franco-Lombard patterns, colored with the same crude hues; the larger letters also include interlaced designs. But the style is quite primitive. The illustrative drawings found are of a very basic nature. Moorish influence can be seen in the colors, especially in the yellows, reds, and blacks. In the later Middle Ages, no national school of illumination emerged due to political conditions. When a demand for illuminated manuscripts arose in the 15th century, foreign artists were sought. Flemish art was naturally imported, along with French art on one side and Italian art on the other. In the breviary created for Queen Isabella of Spain around 1497 (Brit. Mus., Add. MS. 18,851), there is an interesting random mix of miniatures and borders in both the French and Flemish styles, with the national preference for black showing up in the borders, where in many cases the usual colored designs are replaced by black-tinted foliage and scrolls.

In other outlying countries of Europe the art of illumination can scarcely be said to have existed. In Slavonic countries a recollection of the Byzantine school lingered in book ornamentation, but chiefly in a degraded and extravagant system of fantastic interlacings. In the 16th century there was a revival in Russia of the Byzantine style, and the head-pieces and other ornamental details of the 11th and 12th centuries were successfully imitated.

In other remote parts of Europe, the art of illumination barely existed. In Slavic countries, there was some memory of the Byzantine school in book decoration, but mostly it took the form of a twisted and exaggerated style of complex designs. In the 16th century, Russia saw a revival of the Byzantine style, successfully imitating the headpieces and other decorative elements from the 11th and 12th centuries.

The consideration of oriental art does not come within the scope of this article. It may, however, be noted that in Arabic and Persian MSS. of the 13th to 16th centuries there are many examples of exquisitely drawn title-pages and other ornament of intricate detail, resplendent with colour and gold, which may be ranked with western illuminations.

The focus on Eastern art isn’t part of this article. However, it’s worth mentioning that in Arabic and Persian manuscripts from the 13th to 16th centuries, there are numerous examples of beautifully designed title pages and other decorative elements with intricate details, vibrant colors, and gold that can be compared to Western illuminations.

Authorities.—Medieval and later works dealing in part with the technicalities of illumination are collected by Mrs Merrifield, Original Treatises dating from the 12th to 18th Centuries on the Art of Painting (1849); see also Theophilus, De diversis Artibus, ed. R. Hendrie (1847). Text-books and collections of facsimiles are Count A. de Bastard, Peintures et ornaments des manuscrits, a magnificent series of facsimiles, chiefly from Carolingian MSS. (1832-1869); Shaw and Madden, Illuminated Ornaments from MSS. and early Printed Books (1833); Noel Humphreys and Jones, The Illuminated Books of the Middle Ages (1849); H. Shaw, Handbook of Medieval Alphabets (1853), and The Art of Illumination (1870); Tymms and Digby Wyatt, The Art of Illumination (1860); Birch and Jenner, Early Drawings and Illuminations, with a dictionary of subjects in MSS. in the British Museum (1879); J. H. Middleton, Illuminated MSS. in Classical and Medieval Times (1892); G. F. Warner, Illuminated MSS. in the British Museum (official publication, 1903); H. Omont, Facsimilés des miniatures des plus anciens MSS. grecs de la Bibl. Nationale (1902); V. de Boutovsky, Histoire de l’ornement russe du Xe au XVIe siècle, including facsimiles from Byzantine MSS. (1870); J. O. Westwood, Facsimiles of Miniatures and Ornaments of Anglo-Saxon and Irish MSS. (1868); E. M. Thompson, English Illuminated MSS. (1895); Paleografia artistica di Montecassino (1876-1884); Le Miniature nei codici Cassinesi (1887); A. Haseloff, Eine thüringisch-sächsische Malereischule des 13. Jahrhunderts (1897); G. Schwarzenski, Die Regensburger Buchmalerei des 10. und 11. Jahrhunderts (1901); Sauerland and Haseloff, Der Psalter Erzbischof Egberts von Trier (1901).

Authorities.—Medieval and later works that cover some of the details of illumination are gathered by Mrs. Merrifield in Original Treatises dating from the 12th to 18th Centuries on the Art of Painting (1849); also see Theophilus, De diversis Artibus, edited by R. Hendrie (1847). Textbooks and collections of facsimiles include Count A. de Bastard’s Peintures et ornaments des manuscrits, a stunning series of facsimiles primarily from Carolingian manuscripts (1832-1869); Shaw and Madden’s Illuminated Ornaments from MSS. and early Printed Books (1833); Noel Humphreys and Jones’s The Illuminated Books of the Middle Ages (1849); H. Shaw’s Handbook of Medieval Alphabets (1853), and The Art of Illumination (1870); Tymms and Digby Wyatt’s The Art of Illumination (1860); Birch and Jenner’s Early Drawings and Illuminations, which includes a dictionary of subjects in manuscripts in the British Museum (1879); J. H. Middleton’s Illuminated MSS. in Classical and Medieval Times (1892); G. F. Warner’s Illuminated MSS. in the British Museum (official publication, 1903); H. Omont’s Facsimilés des miniatures des plus anciens MSS. grecs de la Bibl. Nationale (1902); V. de Boutovsky’s Histoire de l’ornement russe du Xe au XVIe siècle, which includes facsimiles from Byzantine manuscripts (1870); J. O. Westwood’s Facsimiles of Miniatures and Ornaments of Anglo-Saxon and Irish MSS. (1868); E. M. Thompson’s English Illuminated MSS. (1895); Paleografia artistica di Montecassino (1876-1884); Le Miniature nei codici Cassinesi (1887); A. Haseloff’s Eine thüringisch-sächsische Malereischule des 13. Jahrhunderts (1897); G. Schwarzenski’s Die Regensburger Buchmalerei des 10. und 11. Jahrhunderts (1901); Sauerland and Haseloff’s Der Psalter Erzbischof Egberts von Trier (1901).

Several of the most ancient illustrated or illuminated MSS. have been issued wholly or partially in facsimile, viz. The Ambrosian Homer, by A. Ceriani; the Schedae Vaticanae and the Codex Romanus of Virgil, by the Vatican Library; the Vienna Dioscorides, in the Leiden series of facsimiles; the Vienna Genesis, by Hartel and Wickhoff; the Greek Gospels of Rossano, by A. Haseloff; the Ashburnham Pentateuch, by B. von Gebhart; the Utrecht Psalter, by the Palaeographical Society.

Several of the oldest illustrated or illuminated manuscripts have been published entirely or partially in facsimile, such as the Ambrosian Homer by A. Ceriani; the Schedae Vaticanae and the Codex Romanus of Virgil from the Vatican Library; the Vienna Dioscorides, part of the Leiden series of facsimiles; the Vienna Genesis by Hartel and Wickhoff; the Greek Gospels of Rossano by A. Haseloff; the Ashburnham Pentateuch by B. von Gebhart; and the Utrecht Psalter by the Palaeographical Society.

Facsimiles from illuminated MSS. are also included in large palaeographical works such as Silvestre, Universal Palaeography, ed. Madden (1850); the Facsimiles of the Palaeographical Society (1873-1894) and of the New Palaeographical Society (1903, &c.); 320 and the Collezione paleografia Vaticana, the issue of which was commenced in 1905. Excellent photographic reproductions on a reduced scale are being issued by the British Museum and by the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris.

Facsimiles from illuminated manuscripts are also included in major paleography works like Silvestre, Universal Palaeography, edited by Madden (1850); the Facsimiles of the Palaeographical Society (1873-1894) and the New Palaeographical Society (1903, etc.); 320 and the Collezione paleografia Vaticana, which started publication in 1905. The British Museum and the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris are releasing excellent photographic reproductions at a smaller scale.

(E. M. T.)

ILLUMINATI (Lat. illuminare), a designation in use from the 15th century, and applied to, or assumed by, enthusiasts of types distinct from each other, according as the “light” claimed was viewed as directly communicated from a higher source, or as due to a clarified and exalted condition of the human intelligence. To the former class belong the alumbrados of Spain. Menendez Pelayo first finds the name about 1492 (in the form aluminados, 1498), but traces them back to a Gnostic origin, and thinks their views were promoted in Spain through influences from Italy. One of their earliest leaders, born in Salamanca, a labourer’s daughter, known as La Beata de Piedrahita, came under the notice of the Inquisition in 1511, as claiming to hold colloquies with our Lord and the Virgin; having high patrons, no decision was taken against her (Los Heterodoxos Españoles, 1881, lib. v.). Ignatius Loyola, while studying at Salamanca (1527) was brought before an ecclesiastical commission on a charge of sympathy with the alumbrados, but escaped with an admonition. Others were not so fortunate. In 1529 a congregation of unlettered adherents at Toledo was visited with scourging and imprisonment. Greater rigours followed, and for about a century the alumbrados afforded many victims to the Inquisition, especially at Cordova. The movement (under the name of Illuminés) seems to have reached France from Seville in 1623, and attained some proportions in Picardy when joined (1634) by Pierre Guérin, curé of Saint-Georges de Roye, whose followers, known as Guérinets, were suppressed in 1635 (Hermant, Hist. des hérésies, 1717). Another and obscure body of Illuminés came to light in the south of France in 1722, and appears to have lingered till 1794, having affinities with those known contemporaneously in this country as “French Prophets,” an offshoot of the Camisards. Of different class were the so-called Illuminati, better known as Rosicrucians, who claimed to originate in 1422, but rose into notice in 1537; a secret society, combining with the mysteries of alchemy the possession of esoteric principles of religion. Their positions are embodied in three anonymous treatises of 1614 (Richard et Giraud, Dict. de la théol. cath.). A short-lived movement of republican freethought, to whose adherents the name Illuminati was given, was founded on May-day 1776 by Adam Weishaupt (d. 1830), professor of Canon Law at Ingolstadt, an ex-Jesuit. The chosen title of this Order or Society was Perfectibilists (Perfektibilisten). Its members, pledged to obedience to their superiors, were divided into three main classes; the first including “novices,” “minervals” and “lesser illuminati”; the second consisting of freemasons, “ordinary,” “Scottish” and “Scottish knights”; the third or “mystery” class comprising two grades of “priest” and “regent” and of “magus” and “king.” Relations with masonic lodges were established at Munich and Freising in 1780. The order had its branches in most countries of the European continent, but its total numbers never seem to have exceeded two thousand. The scheme had its attraction for literary men, such as Goethe and Herder, and even for the reigning dukes of Gotha and Weimar. Internal rupture preceded its downfall, which was effected by an edict of the Bavarian government in 1785. Later, the title Illuminati was given to the French Martinists, founded in 1754 by Martinez Pasqualis, and to their imitators, the Russian Martinists, headed about 1790 by Professor Schwartz of Moscow; both were Cabalists and allegorists, imbibing ideas from Jakob Boehme and Emmanuel Swedenborg (Bergier, Dict. de théol.).

ILLUMINATI (Lat. illuminare), a term used since the 15th century, refers to groups of people who claimed to receive “light” either as a direct message from a higher power or as a result of an elevated state of human understanding. The first category includes the alumbrados of Spain. Menendez Pelayo first encountered the term around 1492 (as aluminados in 1498) and linked it to a Gnostic background, believing their ideas were spread in Spain through Italian influences. One of their early leaders, La Beata de Piedrahita, a laborer's daughter from Salamanca, came to the Inquisition's attention in 1511 for claiming to speak with Jesus and the Virgin Mary; due to her influential supporters, no action was taken against her (Los Heterodoxos Españoles, 1881, lib. v.). Ignatius Loyola, studying in Salamanca in 1527, faced an ecclesiastical commission for allegedly sympathizing with the alumbrados, but he only received a warning. Others weren't so lucky. In 1529, a group of uneducated followers in Toledo was punished with whipping and imprisonment. Harsh measures continued, and for about a century, the alumbrados suffered greatly at the hands of the Inquisition, especially in Cordova. The movement, known as the Illuminés, reached France from Seville in 1623, gaining traction in Picardy when Pierre Guérin, the curé of Saint-Georges de Roye, joined in 1634; his followers, the Guérinets, were suppressed in 1635 (Hermant, Hist. des hérésies, 1717). Another little-known group of Illuminés emerged in southern France in 1722 and appeared to have lasted until 1794, sharing connections with the contemporaneous “French Prophets,” an offshoot of the Camisards. A different group, the so-called Illuminati, more commonly known as Rosicrucians, claimed to have originated in 1422 but became prominent in 1537; they were a secret society that blended alchemical mysteries with esoteric religious teachings. Their beliefs were outlined in three anonymous treatises from 1614 (Richard et Giraud, Dict. de la théol. cath.). A brief movement of republican freethinkers, termed Illuminati, was established on May Day in 1776 by Adam Weishaupt (d. 1830), a Canon Law professor at Ingolstadt and a former Jesuit. The society adopted the title Perfectibilists (Perfektibilisten). Members, sworn to obey their superiors, were divided into three main tiers: the first included “novices,” “minervals,” and “lesser illuminati”; the second consisted of freemasons, including “ordinary,” “Scottish,” and “Scottish knights”; the third, or “mystery” class, contained two grades of “priest” and “regent” and “magus” and “king.” Connections with masonic lodges were established in Munich and Freising in 1780. The order had branches across most of Europe, though its membership never seemed to exceed two thousand. It attracted literary figures like Goethe and Herder, as well as the ruling dukes of Gotha and Weimar. Internal strife led to its decline, which was finalized by a Bavarian government edict in 1785. Later, the label Illuminati was applied to the French Martinists, founded in 1754 by Martinez Pasqualis, and to their Russian counterparts led around 1790 by Professor Schwartz of Moscow; both groups were Cabalists and allegorists, influenced by the ideas of Jakob Boehme and Emmanuel Swedenborg (Bergier, Dict. de théol.).

See (especially for details of the movement of Weishaupt,) P. Tschackert, in Hauck’s Realencyklopädie (1901).

See (especially for details on the movement of Weishaupt,) P. Tschackert, in Hauck’s Realencyklopädie (1901).

(A. Go.*)

ILLUMINATION, in optics, the intensity of the light falling upon a surface. The measurement of the illumination is termed photometry (q.v.). The fundamental law of illumination is that if the medium be transparent the intensity of illumination which a luminous point can produce on a surface directly exposed to it is inversely as the square of the distance. The word transparent implies that no light is absorbed or stopped. Whatever, therefore, leaves the source of light must in succession pass through each of a series of spherical surfaces described round the source as centre. The same amount of light falls perpendicularly on all these surfaces in succession. The amount received in a given time by a unit of surface on each is therefore inversely as the number of such units in each. But the surfaces of spheres are as the squares of their radii,—whence the proposition. (We assume here that the velocity of light is constant, and that the source gives out its light uniformly.) When the rays fall otherwise than perpendicularly on the surface, the illumination produced is proportional to the cosine of the angle of obliquity; for the area seen under a given spherical angle increases as the secant of the obliquity, the distance remaining the same.

ILLUMINATION, in optics refers to the intensity of light hitting a surface. The measurement of illumination is called photometry (q.v.). The basic principle of illumination states that if the medium is transparent, the intensity of illumination that a light source can create on a surface directly exposed to it is inversely proportional to the square of the distance. The term transparent means that no light is absorbed or blocked. Therefore, whatever leaves the light source must successively pass through a series of spherical surfaces centered around the source. The same amount of light hits all these surfaces perpendicularly in succession. Consequently, the amount received in a set time by a unit of surface on each sphere is inversely proportional to the number of such units. However, the surfaces of spheres are proportional to the squares of their radii, which leads to this conclusion. (We assume here that the speed of light is constant and that the source emits its light uniformly.) When the rays hit the surface at an angle other than perpendicular, the resulting illumination is proportional to the cosine of the angle of incidence; this is because the area visible under a certain spherical angle increases as the secant of the angle while keeping the distance the same.

As a corollary to this we have the further proposition that the apparent brightness of a luminous surface (seen through a transparent homogeneous medium) is the same at all distances.

As a related point, we also have the idea that the visible brightness of a bright surface (viewed through a clear, uniform material) is the same no matter how far away you are.

The word brightness is here taken as a measure of the amount of light falling on the pupil per unit of spherical angle subtended by the luminous surface. The spherical angle subtended by any small surface whose plane is at right angles to the line of sight is inversely as the square of the distance. So also is the light received from it. Hence the brightness is the same at all distances.

The term brightness is used here to describe the amount of light hitting the pupil per unit of spherical angle created by the light source. The spherical angle from any small surface that's perpendicular to the line of sight is inversely proportional to the square of the distance. The light received from that surface follows the same rule. Therefore, brightness remains consistent at all distances.

The word brightness is often used (even scientifically) in another sense from that just defined. Thus we speak of a bright star, of the question—When is Venus at its brightest? &c. Strictly, such expressions are not defensible except for sources of light which (like a star) have no apparent surface, so that we cannot tell from what amount of spherical angle their light appears to come. In that case the spherical angle is, for want of knowledge, assumed to be the same for all, and therefore the brightness of each is now estimated in terms of the whole quantity of light we receive from it.

The term brightness is often used (even in scientific contexts) in a different way than just explained. For example, we talk about a bright star and ask questions like—When is Venus at its brightest? Strictly speaking, these phrases aren't justifiable unless they refer to light sources that, like a star, lack a visible surface, making it impossible to determine the angle from which their light seems to come. In this situation, since we don't have that knowledge, we assume the angle is the same for all, and therefore, we measure the brightness of each based on the total amount of light we receive from it.

The function of a telescope is to increase the “apparent magnitude” of distant objects; it does not increase the “apparent brightness.” If we put out of account the loss of light by reflection at glass surfaces (or by imperfect reflection at metallic surfaces) and by absorption, and suppose that the magnifying power does not exceed the ratio of the aperture of the object-glass to that of the pupil, under which condition the pupil will be filled with light, we may say that the “apparent brightness” is absolutely unchanged by the use of a telescope. In this statement, however, two reservations must be admitted. If the object under examination, like a fixed star, have no sensible apparent magnitude, the conception of “apparent brightness” is altogether inapplicable, and we are concerned only with the total quantity of light reaching the eye. Again, it is found that the visibility of an object seen against a black background depends not only upon the “apparent brightness” but also upon the apparent magnitude. If two or three crosses of different sizes be cut out of the same piece of white paper, and be erected against a black background on the further side of a nearly dark room, the smaller ones become invisible in a light still sufficient to show the larger. Under these circumstances a suitable telescope may of course bring also the smaller objects into view. The explanation is probably to be sought in imperfect action of the lens of the eye when the pupil is dilated to the utmost. Lord Rayleigh found that in a nearly dark room he became distinctly short-sighted, a defect of which there is no trace whatever in a moderate light. If this view be correct, the brightness of the image on the retina is really less in the case of a small than in the case of a large object, although the so-called apparent brightnesses may be the same. However this may be, the utility of a night-glass is beyond dispute.

The purpose of a telescope is to enhance the “apparent magnitude” of faraway objects; it doesn’t increase the “apparent brightness.” If we disregard light loss due to reflection at glass surfaces (or imperfect reflection at metallic surfaces) and absorption, and assume that the magnifying power doesn’t exceed the ratio of the aperture of the objective lens to that of the pupil, under which condition the pupil will be filled with light, we can say that the “apparent brightness” remains completely unchanged when using a telescope. However, there are two exceptions to this statement. If the object being viewed, like a fixed star, has no noticeable apparent magnitude, the idea of “apparent brightness” doesn’t apply at all, and we're only considering the total amount of light reaching the eye. Additionally, it’s observed that the visibility of an object seen against a black background relies not just on “apparent brightness” but also on apparent magnitude. If you cut out two or three crosses of different sizes from the same piece of white paper and set them against a black background in a dimly lit room, the smaller crosses may become invisible even in light bright enough to show the larger ones. In such cases, a suitable telescope can help reveal the smaller objects. This likely happens due to the lens of the eye not functioning perfectly when the pupil is fully dilated. Lord Rayleigh discovered that in a dim room, he became noticeably short-sighted, a condition that doesn't appear in moderate light. If this is accurate, the brightness of the image on the retina is actually less for a small object than for a large one, even though the so-called apparent brightnesses might be the same. Regardless of this, the usefulness of a night-vision telescope is undeniable.

The general law that (apart from the accidental losses mentioned above) the “apparent brightness” depends only upon the area of the pupil filled with light, though often ill understood, has been established for a long time, as the following quotation from Smith’s Optics (Cambridge, 1738), p. 113, will show:—

The basic rule that, aside from the accidental losses mentioned earlier, the “apparent brightness” relies solely on the area of the pupil that is filled with light, although it’s often misunderstood, has been known for a long time, as the following quote from Smith’s Optics (Cambridge, 1738), p. 113, illustrates:—

321

321

“Since the magnitude of the pupil is subject to be varied by various degrees of light, let NO be its semi-diameter when the object PL is viewed by the naked eye from the distance OP; and upon a plane that touches the eye at O, let OK be the semi-diameter of the greatest area, visible through all the glasses to another eye at P, to be found as PL was; or, which is the same thing, let OK be the semi-diameter of the greatest area inlightened by a pencil of rays flowing from P through all the glasses; and when this area is not less than the area of the pupil, the point P will appear just as bright through all the glasses as it would do if they were removed; but if the inlightened area be less than the area of the pupil, the point P will appear less bright through the glasses than if they were removed in the same proportion as the inlightened area is less than the pupil. And these proportions of apparent brightness would be accurate if all the incident rays were transmitted through the glasses to the eye, or if only an insensible part of them were stopt.”

“Since the size of the pupil can change with different levels of light, let NO be its semi-diameter when the object PL is seen by the naked eye from the distance OP; and on a plane that touches the eye at O, let OK be the semi-diameter of the largest area visible through all the lenses to another eye at P, found the same way as PL; or, in other words, let OK be the semi-diameter of the largest area lit by a beam of rays coming from P through all the lenses; and when this area is at least as large as the area of the pupil, the point P will appear just as bright through all the lenses as it would if they were taken away; but if the illuminated area is smaller than the area of the pupil, the point P will appear dimmer through the lenses than it would if they were removed, in the same proportion that the illuminated area is smaller than the pupil. These proportions of apparent brightness would be accurate if all the incoming rays passed through the lenses to the eye, or if only an imperceptible portion of them were blocked.”

A very important fact connected with our present subject is: The brightness of a self-luminous surface does not depend upon its inclination to the line of sight. Thus a red-hot ball of iron, free from scales of oxide, &c., appears flat in the dark; so, also, the sun, seen through mist, appears as a flat disk. This fact, however, depends ultimately upon the second law of thermodynamics (see Radiation). It may be stated, however, in another form, in which its connexion with what precedes is more obvious—The amount of radiation, in any direction, from a luminous surface is proportional to the cosine of the obliquity.

A very important fact related to our current topic is: The brightness of a self-luminous surface doesn’t depend on its angle to the line of sight. For example, a red-hot iron ball, free from oxide scales, looks flat in the dark; similarly, the sun appears as a flat disk when viewed through mist. This fact ultimately relies on the second law of thermodynamics (see Radiation). However, it can also be stated in a different way that makes its connection to the previous discussion clearer—The amount of radiation emitted in any direction from a luminous surface is proportional to the cosine of the angle of inclination.

The flow of light (if we may so call it) in straight lines from the luminous point, with constant velocity, leads, as we have seen, to the expression μr−2 (where r is the distance from the luminous point) for the quantity of light which passes through unit of surface perpendicular to the ray in unit of time, μ being a quantity indicating the rate at which light is emitted by the source. This represents the illumination of the surface on which it falls. The flow through unit of surface whose normal is inclined at an angle θ to the ray is of course μr−2 cos θ, again representing the illumination. These are precisely the expressions for the gravitation force exerted by a particle of mass μ on a unit of matter at distance r, and for its resolved part in a given direction. Hence we may employ an expression V = Σμr−1, which is exactly analogous to the gravitation or electric potential, for the purpose of calculating the effect due to any number of separate sources of light.

The way light travels (if we can call it that) in straight lines from a light source, at a consistent speed, leads us to the formula μr−2 (where r is the distance from the light source) for the amount of light that passes through a unit area perpendicular to the light ray in a unit of time, with μ indicating how much light the source emits. This represents the brightness of the surface it hits. The amount of light passing through a unit area whose normal is tilted at an angle θ to the ray is μr−2 cos θ, which also represents the brightness. These are exactly the same formulas used for the gravitational force that a mass μ exerts on a unit of matter at a distance r, as well as for its component in a specific direction. Therefore, we can use the expression V = Σμr−1, which is perfectly similar to gravitational or electric potential, to calculate the effects coming from any number of separate light sources.

And the fundamental proposition in potentials, viz. that, if n be the external normal at any point of a closed surface, the integral ∫∫(dV/dn)dS, taken over the whole surface, has the value—4πμ0, where μ0 is the sum of the values of μ for each source lying within the surface, follows almost intuitively from the mere consideration of what it means as regards light. For every source external to the closed surface sends in light which goes out again. But the light from an internal source goes wholly out; and the amount per second from each unit source is 4π, the total area of the unit sphere surrounding the source.

And the basic idea in potentials is that if n is the external normal at any point on a closed surface, the integral ∫∫(dV/dn)dS, calculated over the entire surface, equals -4πμ0, where μ0 is the total of the values of μ for each source inside the surface. This arises almost intuitively when considering how it relates to light. Every external source sends in light that passes through and goes out again. However, the light from an internal source completely exits; the amount of light emitted per second from each unit source is 4π, which is the total area of a unit sphere surrounding that source.

It is well to observe, however, that the analogy is not quite complete. To make it so, all the sources must lie on the same side of the surface whose illumination we are dealing with. This is due to the fact that, in order that a surface may be illuminated at all, it must be capable of scattering light, i.e. it must be to some extent opaque. Hence the illumination depends mainly upon those sources which are on the same side as that from which it is regarded.

It’s important to note, though, that the analogy isn’t entirely accurate. For it to work, all the sources need to be on the same side of the surface we are examining. This is because, in order for a surface to be illuminated at all, it has to be able to scatter light, i.e. it needs to be somewhat opaque. Therefore, the illumination mainly relies on those sources that are on the same side as the viewpoint.

Though this process bears some resemblance to the heat analogy employed by Lord Kelvin (Sir W. Thomson) for investigations in statical electricity and to Clerk Maxwell’s device of an incompressible fluid without mass, it is by no means identical with them. Each method deals with a substance, real or imaginary, which flows in conical streams from a source so that the same amount of it passes per second through every section of the cone. But in the present process the velocity is constant and the density variable, while in the others the density is virtually constant and the velocity variable. There is a curious reciprocity in formulae such as we have just given. For instance, it is easily seen that the light received from a uniformly illuminated surface is represented by ∫∫r−2 cos θ dS.

Though this process is somewhat similar to the heat analogy used by Lord Kelvin (Sir W. Thomson) for studies in static electricity and to Clerk Maxwell’s concept of an incompressible fluid with no mass, it's not the same as those. Each approach involves a substance, whether real or imaginary, that flows in conical streams from a source, ensuring that the same amount flows per second through every section of the cone. However, in the current process, the velocity is constant and the density is variable, whereas in the others, the density is nearly constant and the velocity is variable. There is an interesting reciprocity in formulas like the one we just provided. For example, it's clear that the light received from a uniformly illuminated surface can be represented by ∫∫r−2 cos θ dS.

As we have seen that this integral vanishes for a closed surface which has no source inside, its value is the same for all shells of equal uniform brightness whose edges lie on the same cone.

As we've observed, this integral equals zero for a closed surface without any sources inside; its value remains the same for all shells of equal uniform brightness whose edges are on the same cone.


ILLUSTRATION. In a general sense, illustration (or the art of representing pictorially some idea which has been expressed in words) is as old as Art itself. There has never been a time since civilization began when artists were not prompted to pictorial themes from legendary, historical or literary sources. But the art of illustration, as now understood, is a comparatively modern product. The tendency of modern culture has been to make the interests of the different arts overlap. The theory of Wagner, as applied to opera, for making a combined appeal to the artistic emotions, has been also the underlying principle in the development of that great body of artistic production which in painting gives us the picture containing “literary” elements, and, in actual association with literature in its printed form, becomes what we call “illustration.” The illustrator’s work is the complement of expression in some other medium. A poem can hardly exist which does not awaken in the mind at some moment a suggestion either of picture or music. The sensitive temperament of the artist or the musician is able to realize out of words some parallel idea which can only be conveyed, or can be best conveyed, through his own medium of music or painting. Similarly, music or painting may, and often does, suggest poetry. It is from this inter-relation of the emotions governing the different arts that illustration may be said to spring. The success of illustration lies, then, in the instinctive transference of an idea from one medium to another; the more spontaneous it be and the less laboured in application, the better.

ILLUSTRATION. Generally speaking, illustration (or the art of visually representing an idea that has been expressed in words) has existed as long as art itself. Since the dawn of civilization, artists have always found inspiration in themes from legends, history, or literature. However, the way we understand the art of illustration today is relatively modern. Contemporary culture tends to blur the lines between different art forms. Wagner's theory, applied to opera, aimed to create a unified appeal to artistic emotions, and this principle also underlies the development of a significant body of artistic work where painting features "literary" elements and, when printed alongside literature, becomes what we call "illustration." The illustrator's role complements expression in another medium. A poem rarely exists that doesn’t evoke, at some point, an image or a musical thought. An artist or musician with a sensitive temperament can interpret words into a parallel idea best conveyed through their medium of music or painting. Similarly, music or painting can often suggest poetry. It is from this emotional interplay among various art forms that illustration emerges. The success of illustration depends on instinctively transferring an idea from one medium to another; the more spontaneous and less forced the connection, the better.

Leaving on one side the illuminated manuscripts of the middle ages (see Illuminated MSS.) we start with the fact that illustration was coincident with the invention of printing. Italian art produced many fine examples, notably the outline illustrations to the Poliphili Hypneratomachia, printed by Aldus at Venice in the last year of the 15th century. Other early works exist, the products of unnamed artists of the French, German, Spanish and Italian schools; while of more singular importance, though not then brought into book form, were the illustrations to Dante’s Divine Comedy made by Botticelli at about the same period. The sudden development of engraving on metal and wood drew many painters of the Renaissance towards illustration as a further opportunity for the exercise of their powers; and the line-work, either original or engraved by others, of Pollajuolo, Mantegna, Michelangelo and Titian has its place in the gradual enlargement of illustrative art. The German school of the 16th century committed its energies even more vigorously to illustration; and many of its artists are now known chiefly through their engravings on wood or copper, a good proportion of which were done to the accompaniment of printed matter. The names of Dürer, Burgmair, Altdorfer and Holbein represent a school whose engraved illustrations possess qualities which have never been rivalled, and remain an invaluable aid to imitators of the present day.

Leaving aside the illuminated manuscripts of the Middle Ages (see Illuminated MSS.), we start with the fact that illustration appeared alongside the invention of printing. Italian art produced many great examples, especially the outline illustrations for the Poliphili Hypneratomachia, printed by Aldus in Venice in the last year of the 15th century. Other early works exist, created by unnamed artists from the French, German, Spanish, and Italian schools; while of greater significance, although not published in book form at the time, were the illustrations for Dante’s Divine Comedy made by Botticelli around the same period. The sudden rise of engraving on metal and wood attracted many Renaissance painters to illustration as an additional outlet for their skills; and the line work, whether original or engraved by others, from Pollajuolo, Mantegna, Michelangelo, and Titian played a part in the gradual expansion of illustrative art. The German school in the 16th century dedicated itself even more vigorously to illustration, and many of its artists are now primarily recognized for their wood or copper engravings, many of which accompanied printed texts. The names of Dürer, Burgmair, Altdorfer, and Holbein represent a school whose engraved illustrations have qualities that remain unmatched and continue to be invaluable for modern imitators.

Illustration has generally flourished in any particular age in proportion to the health and vigour of the artistic productions in other kinds. No evident revival in painting has come about, no great school has existed during the last four centuries, which has not set its mark upon the illustration of the period and quickened it into a medium for true artistic expression. The etchers of the Low Countries during the 17th century, with Rembrandt at their head, were to a great extent illustrators in their choice of subjects. In France the period of Watteau and Fragonard gave rise to a school of delicately engraved illustration, exquisite in detail and invention. In England Hogarth came to be the founder of many new conditions, both in painting and illustration, and was followed by men of genius so distinct as Reynolds on the one side and Bewick on the other. With Reynolds one connects the illustrators and engravers for whom now Bartolozzi supplies a surviving name and an embodiment in his graceful but never quite English art. But it is from Thomas Bewick that the wonderfully consistent development of English illustration begins to date. Bewick marks an important period in the technical history of wood-engraving Progress in England. as the practical inventor of the “tint” and “white line” method of wood-cutting; but he also happened to be an artist. His artistic device was to give local colour and texture without shadow, securing thereby a precision of outline which allowed no form to be lost. And though, in consequence, many of his best designs have somewhat the air of a specimen plate, he succeeded in bringing into black-and-white illustration an element of colour which had been wholly absent from it in the work of the 15th and 16th century German and Italian schools. Bewick’s method started a new school; but the more racy qualities 322 of his woodcuts were entirely dependent on the designer being his own cutter; and the same happy relationship gave distinct characteristics to the nearly contemporary work of William Blake and of Calvert. Blake’s wonderful Illustrations to the Book of Job, while magnificent in their conventional rendering of light and shade, still retain the colourlessness of the old masters, as do also the more broadly handled designs to his own books of prophecy and verse; but in his woodcuts to Philips’s Pastorals the modern tendency towards local colour makes itself strongly felt. So wonderfully, indeed, have colour and tone been expressed in these rough wood-blocks, that more vivid impressions of darkness and twilight falling across quiet landscape have never been produced through the same materials. The pastoral designs made by Edward Calvert on similar lines can hardly be over-praised. Technically these engravings are far more able than those from which they drew their inspiration.

Illustration has generally thrived in any given era in line with the strength and vitality of artistic works in other forms. No noticeable revival in painting has occurred, and no major school has emerged in the last four centuries without leaving its mark on the illustration of the time, energizing it as a medium for genuine artistic expression. The etchers from the Low Countries during the 17th century, led by Rembrandt, were largely illustrators in their choice of subjects. In France, the period of Watteau and Fragonard gave rise to a school of finely engraved illustrations, exquisite in detail and creativity. In England, Hogarth became the founder of many new trends in both painting and illustration, paving the way for notable talents like Reynolds on one side and Bewick on the other. Reynolds is associated with the illustrators and engravers for whom Bartolozzi remains a notable name, embodying his elegant, albeit not entirely English, artistic style. However, it is from Thomas Bewick that the remarkable and consistent growth of English illustration can be traced. Bewick represents an important milestone in the technical history of wood-engraving as the practical inventor of the “tint” and “white line” wood-cutting techniques; yet he was also an artist. His artistic approach was to give local color and texture without shadow, achieving a sharp precision in outline that left no form lost. Although many of his best designs resemble specimen plates due to this method, he managed to introduce an element of color into black-and-white illustration that was entirely absent in the works of the 15th and 16th-century German and Italian schools. Bewick's method initiated a new school; however, the more lively qualities of his woodcuts relied heavily on the designer also being the cutter, and this fortunate relationship gave distinct characteristics to the nearly contemporary works of William Blake and Calvert. Blake’s stunning Illustrations to the Book of Job, while glorious in their traditional depiction of light and shadow, still maintain the colorlessness of the old masters, as do the more broadly executed designs in his own books of prophecy and verse; yet in his woodcuts for Philips’s Pastorals, the modern inclination toward local color is clearly evident. Indeed, color and tone have been expressed so beautifully in these rough wood blocks that no more vivid impressions of darkness and twilight sweeping over tranquil landscapes have ever been produced from the same materials. The pastoral designs created by Edward Calvert along similar lines can hardly receive enough praise. Technically, these engravings are far more skilled than those from which they drew their inspiration.

With the exception of the two artists named, and in a minor degree of Thomas Stothard and John Flaxman, who also produced original illustrations, the period from the end of the 18th century till about the middle of the 19th was less notable for the work of the designer than of the engraver. The delicate plates to Rogers’s Italy were done from drawings which Turner had not produced for purposes of illustration; and the admirable lithographs of Samuel Prout and Richard Bonington were merely studies of architecture and landscape made in a material that admitted of indefinite multiplication. It is true that Géricault came over to England about the year 1820 to draw the English race-horse and other studies of country life, which were published in London in 1821, and that other fine work in lithography was done by James Ward, G. Cattermole, and somewhat later by J. F. Lewis. But illustration proper, subject-illustration applied to literature, was mainly in the hands of the wood-engravers; and these, forming a really fine school founded on the lines which Bewick had laid down, had for about thirty years to content themselves with rendering the works of ephemeral artists, among whom Benjamin R. Haydon and John Martin stand out as the chief lights. It must not be forgotten, however, that while the day of a serious English school of illustration had not yet come, Great Britain possessed an indigenous tradition of gross and lively caricature; a tradition of such robust force and vulgarity that, by the side of some choicer specimens of James Gillray and Henry W. Bunbury, the art of Rowlandson appears almost refined. This was the school in which George Cruikshank, John Leech, and the Dickens illustrators had their training, from which they drew more and more away; until, with the help of Punch, just before the middle of the 19th century, English caricaturists had learned the secret of how to be apposite and amusing without scurrility and without libel. (See Caricature.)

Aside from the two artists mentioned, and to a lesser extent Thomas Stothard and John Flaxman, who also created original illustrations, the period from the end of the 18th century to about the mid-19th was less remarkable for design than for engraving. The delicate plates for Rogers’s Italy were made from drawings that Turner hadn't created for illustration purposes; and the excellent lithographs by Samuel Prout and Richard Bonington were merely studies of architecture and landscapes done in a medium that allowed for unlimited reproduction. It's true that Géricault came to England around 1820 to draw English racehorses and other scenes from country life, which were published in London in 1821, and that other fine lithographic work was done by James Ward, G. Cattermole, and later by J. F. Lewis. However, proper illustration—subject illustration applied to literature—was primarily in the hands of wood engravers. These engravers, forming a truly distinguished school based on the foundations laid by Bewick, spent about thirty years rendering the works of short-lived artists, among whom Benjamin R. Haydon and John Martin stand out as the main figures. It's important to note, though, that while a serious English school of illustration had not yet emerged, Great Britain had a strong tradition of bold and lively caricature; a tradition so robust and crude that, alongside some finer examples from James Gillray and Henry W. Bunbury, Rowlandson's art seems almost refined. This was the school where George Cruikshank, John Leech, and the illustrators for Dickens received their training, from which they gradually distanced themselves; until, with the help of Punch, just before the mid-19th century, English caricaturists discovered how to be relevant and entertaining without being offensive or defamatory. (See Caricature.)

Under Newspapers will be found some account of the rise of illustrated journalism. It was in about the year 1832 that the illustrated weekly paper started on its career in England, and almost by accident determined Influence of Wood-engraving. under what form a great national art was to develop itself. While in France the illustrators were making their triumphs by means of lithography, English illustration was becoming more and more identified with wood-engraving. The demand for a method of illustration, easy to produce and easy to print, for books and magazines of large circulation and moderate price, forced the artist before long into drawing upon the wood itself; and so soon as the artist had asserted his preference for facsimile over “tint,” the school which came to be called “of the ’sixties” was in embryo, and waited only for artistic power to give it distinction. The engraver’s translation of the artist’s painting or wash-drawing into “tint” had largely exalted the individuality of the engraver at the expense of the artist. But from the moment when the designer began to put his own lines upon the wood, new conditions shaped themselves; and though the artist at times might make demands which the engraver could not follow, or the engraver inadequately fulfil the expectation of the artist, the general tendency was to bring designer and engraver into almost ideal relations—an ideal which nothing short of the artist being his own engraver could have equalled. Out of an alliance cemented by their common use and understanding of the material on which they worked came the school of facsimile or partial-facsimile engraving which flourished during the ’sixties, and lasted just so long as its conditions were unimpaired—losing its flavour only at the moment when “improved” mechanical appliances enabled the artist once more to dissociate himself from the conditions which bound the engraver in his craft.

Under Newspapers you'll find some information about the rise of illustrated journalism. It was around 1832 when the illustrated weekly magazine began its journey in England, and almost by chance decided under what form a major national art would develop. While in France, illustrators were achieving success through lithography, English illustration became increasingly linked to wood-engraving. The need for an illustration method that was easy to produce and print for widely circulated and reasonably priced books and magazines pushed artists to start drawing directly on wood. Once artists showed a preference for facsimile over “tint,” the school known as “of the ’sixties” emerged, waiting only for artistic talent to give it distinction. The engraver’s reinterpretation of the artist’s painting or wash-drawing into “tint” had mostly boosted the engraver’s individuality at the expense of the artist. But from the moment the designer started placing his own lines on the wood, new dynamics evolved; even though the artist might sometimes have requests that the engraver couldn't meet, or the engraver could only partially fulfill the artist's expectations, the general trend was to foster an ideal relationship between designer and engraver—an ideal that nothing less than the artist being his own engraver could match. From a partnership strengthened by their shared use and understanding of the material they worked with emerged the school of facsimile or partial-facsimile engraving that thrived during the ’sixties, existing only as long as its conditions remained intact—losing its essence only when “improved” mechanical tools allowed the artist to separate himself once again from the conditions that tied the engraver to his craft.

Before the fortunate circumstances which governed the work of the ’sixties became decisive, illustrations of a transitional character, but tending to the same end, had been produced by John Tenniel, John Gilbert, Birket Pre-Raphaelite movement. Foster, Harrison Weir, T. Creswick, W. Mulready and others; but their methods were too vague and diffuse to bear as yet the mark of a school; no single influence gave a unity to their efforts. On some of them Adolf von Menzel’s illustrations to Kügler’s Frederick the Great, published in England in 1844, may have left a mark; Gilbert certainly shows traces of the influence of Delacroix and Bonington in the free, loose method of his draughtsmanship, independent of accurate modelling, and with here and there a paint-like dab of black to relieve a generally colourless effect; while Tenniel, with cold, precise lines of wire-drawn hardness, remained the representative of the past academic style, influencing others by the dignity of his fine technique, but with his own feeling quite untouched by the Pre-Raphaelite and romantic movement which was soon to occupy the world of illustration. In greater or less degree it may be said of the work of all these artists that, as it antedates, so to the end does it stand somewhat removed in character from, the school with which for a time it became contemporary. The year which decisively marked the beginning of new things in illustration was 1857, the year of the Moxon Tennyson and of Wilmott’s Poets of the Nineteenth Century, with illustrations by Rossetti, Millais, Holman Hunt and Ford Madox Brown. In these artists we get the germ of the movement which afterwards came to have so wide a popularity. At the beginning, Pre-Raphaelite in name, poetic and literary in its choice of subjects, the school quickly expanded to an acceptance of those open-air and everyday subjects which one connects with the names of Frederick Walker, Arthur B. Houghton, G. F. Pinwell and M. North. The illustrations of the Pre-Raphaelites were eminently thoughtful, full of symbolism, and with a certain pressure of interest to which the epithet of “intense” came to be applied. As an example of their method of thought-transference from word to form, Madox Brown’s drawing for the Dalziel Bible of “Elijah and the Widow’s Son” may be taken. The restoration of life to a dead body, of a child to its mother, is there conveyed with many illustrative touches and asides, which become clumsy when stated in words. The hen bearing her chicken between her wings is a perfectly direct and appropriate pictorial symbol, but a far more imaginative stroke is the shadow on the wall of a swallow flying back to the clay bottle where it has made its nest. Here is illustration full of literary symbolism, yet wholly pictorial in its means; and in this it is entirely characteristic of Pre-Raphaelite feeling, with its method of suggesting, through externals, consideration as opposed to mere outlook. Of this phase Rossetti must be accounted the leader, but it was Millais who, by the sheer weight of his personality, carried English illustration along with him from Pre-Raphaelitism to the freer romanticism and naturalistic tendencies of the ’sixties. Rossetti, with his poetic enthusiasm, his strong personal magnetism and dramatic power of composition, may be said to have brought about the awakening; it was Millais who, by his rapid development Influence of Millais. of style, his original and daring technique, turned it into a movement. When he started, there were many influences behind him and his fellow-workers—among older foreign contemporaries, those of Menzel and Rethel; and behind these again something of the old masters. But through a transitional period, represented by his twelve drawings of “The Parables,” which appeared first in Good Words, Millais emerged in to the perfect independence of his illustrations to Trollope’s novels, Framley Parsonage, and The 323 Small House at Allington, his own master and the master of a new school. Depicting the ugly fashions of his day with grave dignity and distinction, and with a broad power of rendering type in work which had the aspect of genre, he drew the picture of his age in a summary so embracing that his illustrations attain the rank almost of historical art. For art of this sort the symbolism of the Pre-Raphaelites lost its use: the realization in form of a character conveyed by an author’s words, the happy suggestion of a locality helping to fix the writer’s description, the verisimilitudes of ordinary life, even to trivial detail, carried out with real pictorial conviction, were the things most to be aimed at. Pictorial conviction was the great mark of the illustrative school of the ’sixties. The work of its artists has absorbed so completely the interest and reality of the letterpress that the results are a model of what faithful yet imaginative illustration should be. In the illustrated magazines of this period, Once a Week, Good Words, Cornhill, London Society, The Argosy, The Leisure Hour, Sunday at Home, The Quiver and The Churchman’s Family Magazine, as well as others, is to be found the best work of this new school of illustrators; and with the greater number of them it cannot be mistaken that Millais is the prevailing force.

Before the fortunate circumstances that shaped the work of the '60s became decisive, artists like John Tenniel, John Gilbert, Birket Foster, Harrison Weir, T. Creswick, W. Mulready, and others produced transitional illustrations that shared a common goal. However, their techniques were too vague and scattered to create a unified style; no single influence tied their work together. Some of them may have been influenced by Adolf von Menzel’s illustrations for Kügler’s *Frederick the Great*, published in England in 1844. Gilbert certainly reflects the impact of Delacroix and Bonington in his free, loose drawing style, which does not rely on exact modeling and often includes paint-like touches of black to enhance a generally muted palette. Meanwhile, Tenniel, with his cold, precise lines and stark hardness, embodied the traditional academic style, influencing others through the elegance of his technique, yet remaining unaffected by the Pre-Raphaelite and romantic movements that were soon to dominate illustration. It can be said that all these artists' works, while contemporary for a time, remain somewhat distinct in character from the school that followed. The year that definitively marked the start of new trends in illustration was 1857, the year of the Moxon *Tennyson* and Wilmot’s *Poets of the Nineteenth Century*, featuring illustrations by Rossetti, Millais, Holman Hunt, and Ford Madox Brown. In these artists, we see the seeds of a movement that would later gain widespread popularity. Initially identified as Pre-Raphaelite, with poetic and literary themes in their work, the school quickly broadened to embrace everyday and outdoor subjects associated with artists like Frederick Walker, Arthur B. Houghton, G. F. Pinwell, and M. North. The Pre-Raphaelite illustrations were deeply thoughtful, rich in symbolism, and carried an intense level of interest. An example of their method of conveying thought through imagery is Madox Brown’s drawing for the Dalziel Bible titled “Elijah and the Widow’s Son.” The revival of life in a deceased child is presented with various illustrative details that become cumbersome in words. The hen carrying her chick between her wings serves as a direct and fitting pictorial symbol, but a more imaginative touch is the shadow of a swallow on the wall returning to the clay bottle where it built its nest. This illustration is full of literary symbolism yet remains entirely pictorial, embodying the essence of Pre-Raphaelite sentiment by suggesting deeper meanings through external representations, rather than merely superficial appearances. Rossetti is considered the leader of this phase, but it was Millais who, through the strength of his personality, propelled English illustration from Pre-Raphaelitism toward the freer romanticism and naturalistic tendencies of the '60s. Rossetti, with his poetic zeal, strong personal charm, and dramatic compositional skills, initiated this awakening; Millais, with his rapid style evolution and bold techniques, transformed it into a movement. When he began, he had many influences supporting him and his peers, including older foreign contemporaries like Menzel and Rethel, and even the old masters behind them. Through a transitional phase marked by his twelve drawings for “The Parables,” which first appeared in *Good Words*, Millais emerged into the complete independence of his illustrations for Trollope’s novels, *Framley Parsonage* and *The Small House at Allington*, becoming his own master and the leader of a new school. By depicting the ugly fashions of his time with serious dignity and refinement, and with a broad ability to portray types in work resembling genre, he captured the essence of his era in a way that his illustrations nearly achieved the status of historical art. In this new art form, the symbolism of the Pre-Raphaelites became less relevant; what mattered most was conveying a character as expressed by the author's words, the subtle suggestion of a location to anchor the writer's descriptions, and the believable details of everyday life presented with genuine pictorial conviction. Pictorial conviction marked the illustrative school of the '60s. The work of its artists has so thoroughly absorbed the interest and reality of the text that the outcomes exemplify what faithful yet imaginative illustration should be. In the illustrated magazines of this period, such as *Once a Week*, *Good Words*, *Cornhill*, *London Society*, *The Argosy*, *The Leisure Hour*, *Sunday at Home*, *The Quiver*, and *The Churchman’s Family Magazine*, along with others, is found the finest work of this new school of illustrators; for most of them, it is evident that Millais is the dominant influence.

By their side other men were working, more deeply influenced by the old masters, and by the minuteness and hard, definite treatment of form which the Pre-Raphaelite school had inculcated. Foremost of these was Frederick Sandys. His illustrations, scattered through nearly all the magazines which have been named, show always a decorative power of design and are full of fine drawing and fine invention, but remain resolutely cold in handling and lacking in imaginative ardour. The few illustrations done by Burne-Jones at this period show a whole-hearted following of Rossetti, but a somewhat struggling technique; and the same qualities are to be found in the work of Arthur Hughes, whose illustrations in Good Words for the Young (1869) have a charm of tender poetic invention showing through the faults and persistent uncertainty of his draughtsmanship. The illustrations of Frederick Shields to Defoe’s History of the Plague have a certain affinity to the work of Sandys; but, with less power over form, they show a more dramatic sense of light and shade, and at their best can claim real and original beauty. The formality of feeling and composition, and the strained, stiff quality of line in Lord Leighton’s designs to Romola (1863), do a good deal to mar one’s enjoyment of their admirable draughtsmanship. Many fine drawings done at this period by Leighton, Poynter, Henry Armstead and Burne-Jones did not appear until the year 1880 in the “Dalziel Bible Gallery,” when the methods of which they were the outcome had fallen almost out of use.

By their side, other artists were working, more heavily influenced by the old masters and by the detailed and precise way of treating form that the Pre-Raphaelite school had taught. Leading the way was Frederick Sandys. His illustrations, found in almost all the magazines mentioned, consistently display a strong sense of design and are filled with excellent drawing and creativity, but they remain noticeably cold in execution and lack imaginative passion. The few illustrations done by Burne-Jones during this time show a dedicated following of Rossetti, but with a somewhat struggling technique; and similar traits can be seen in the work of Arthur Hughes, whose illustrations in Good Words for the Young (1869) have a charm of gentle poetic imagination that shines through the flaws and ongoing uncertainty in his drawing skills. Frederick Shields’ illustrations for Defoe’s History of the Plague have some similarities to Sandys' work; however, with less control over form, they display a stronger sense of dramatic light and shadow, and at their best, they possess real and original beauty. The formal quality of feeling and composition, along with the strained, rigid lines in Lord Leighton’s designs for Romola (1863), significantly detract from the enjoyment of their impressive draughtsmanship. Many fine drawings created during this period by Leighton, Poynter, Henry Armstead, and Burne-Jones did not appear until 1880 in the “Dalziel Bible Gallery,” when the techniques they employed had nearly fallen out of fashion.

Deeply influenced by the broad later phases of Millais’s black-and-white work were those artists whose tendency lay in the direction of idyllic naturalism and popular romance, the men to whom more particularly is given the name “The ’sixties.” of the period and school “the ’sixties,” and whose more immediate leader, as far as popular estimation goes, was Frederick Walker. With his, one may roughly group the names of Pinwell, Houghton, North, Charles Keene, Lawless, Matthew J. Mahoney, Morten and, with a certain reservation, W. Small and G. du Maurier. In no very separate category stand two other artists whose contributions to illustration were but incidental, John Pettie and J. M’Neill Whistler. The broad characteristics of this variously related group were a loose, easy line suggestive of movement, a general fondness for white spaces and open-air effects, and in the best of them a thorough sense of the serious beauty of domestic and rural life. They treated the present with a feeling rather idyllic than realistic; when they touched the past it was with a courteous sort of realism, and a wonderful inventiveness of detail which carried with it a charm of conviction. Walker’s method shows a broad and vivid use of black and white, with a fine sense of balance, but very little preoccupation for decorative effect. Pinwell had a more delicate fancy, but less freedom in his technique—less ease, but more originality of composition. In Houghton’s work one sees a swift, masterful technique, full of audacity, noble in its economy of means, sometimes rough and careless. His temperament was dramatic, passionate, satiric and witty. Some of his best work, his “Scenes from American Life,” appeared in the pages of the Graphic as late as the years 1873-1874. There are indications in the work of Lawless that he might have come close to Millais in his power of infusing distinction into the barest materials of everyday life, but he died too soon for his work to reach its full accomplishment. North was essentially a landscape illustrator. The delicate sense of beauty in du Maurier’s early work became lost in the formal but graceful conventions of his later Punch drawings. It was in the pages of Punch that Keene secured his chief triumphs. The two last-named artists outstayed the day which saw the break-up of the school of which these are the leading names. It ran its course through a period when illustrated magazines formed the staple of popular consumption, before the illustrated newspapers, with their hungry rush for the record of latest events, became a weekly feature. Its waning influence may be plainly traced through the early years of the Graphic, which started in 1869 with some really fine work, done under transitional conditions before the engraver’s rendering of tone-drawings once more ousted facsimile from its high place in illustration.

Deeply influenced by the later phases of Millais’s black-and-white artwork were those artists who leaned towards idyllic naturalism and popular romance, often referred to as "The '60s." This period and school, known as “the 'sixties,” had Frederick Walker as its most recognized leader. Alongside him, you can roughly group artists like Pinwell, Houghton, North, Charles Keene, Lawless, Matthew J. Mahoney, Morten, and, with some qualification, W. Small and G. du Maurier. Two other artists, John Pettie and J. M’Neill Whistler, also contributed to illustration, albeit in a minor capacity. The common traits of this diverse group included a loose, fluid line that suggested movement, a general preference for white spaces and open-air effects, and in the best of their works, a deep appreciation for the beauty of domestic and rural life. They portrayed the present with an idyllic rather than realistic feeling; when they approached the past, it was with a respectful realism and a wonderful attention to detail that conveyed a sense of authenticity. Walker employed a bold and vivid approach to black and white, displaying a keen sense of balance while showing little concern for decorative effects. Pinwell had a more delicate imagination but less freedom in technique—less ease but more originality in composition. Houghton’s work showcased a swift, masterful technique, full of confidence, economically noble at times, and sometimes rough and casual. His temperament was dramatic, passionate, satirical, and witty. Some of his best work, including “Scenes from American Life,” appeared in the pages of the Graphic as late as 1873-1874. Lawless’s work indicated he might have matched Millais in his ability to add distinction to the simplest materials of everyday life, but he passed away too soon for his work to fully develop. North was primarily known as a landscape illustrator. The delicate beauty of du Maurier’s early work faded in the formal yet graceful style of his later Punch drawings. It was in the pages of Punch that Keene achieved his greatest successes. The two last-named artists outlasted the era that saw the decline of the school associated with these leading figures. This movement thrived during a time when illustrated magazines were popular, before illustrated newspapers, with their insatiable demand for the latest news, became a regular weekly feature. Its diminishing influence can be clearly traced through the early years of the Graphic, which began in 1869 with some truly exceptional work, crafted under transitional conditions before the engraver’s interpretation of tone drawings once again displaced facsimile in its esteemed role in illustration.

In connexion with this transitional period, drawings for the Graphic by Houghton, Pinwell, Sir Hubert von Herkomer, E. J. Gregory, H. Woods, Charles Green, H. Paterson (Mrs Allingham) and William Small deserve honourable mention. Yet it was the last-named who was mainly instrumental in bringing about the change from line-work to pigment, which depressed the artistic value of illustration during the ’seventies and the ’eighties to almost absolute mediocrity. Several artists of great ability practised illustration during this period: in addition to those Graphic artists already mentioned there were Luke Fildes, Frank Holl, S. P. Hall, Paul Renouard and a few others of smaller merit. But the interest was for the time shifting from black-and-white work and turning to colour. Kate Greenaway began to produce her charming idyllic renderings of children in mob-caps and long skirts. Walter Crane on somewhat similar lines designed his illustrated nursery rhymes; while Randolph Caldecott took the field with his fresh and breezy scenes of hunting life and carousal in the times most typical of the English squirearchy. Working with a broad outline, suggestive of the brush by its easy freedom, and adding washes of conventional colour for embellishment, he was one of the first in England to show the beginnings of Japanese influence. Even more dependent upon colour were his illustrated books for children; while in black and white, in his illustrations to Bracebridge Hall (1876), for instance, pen and ink began to replace the pencil, and to produce a new and more independent style of draughtsmanship. This style was taken up and followed by many artists of ability, by Harry Furniss, Hugh Thomson and others, till the influence of E. A. Abbey’s more mobile and more elaborate penmanship came to produce a still further development in the direction of fineness and illusion, and that of Phil May, with Linley Sambourne for his teacher, to simplify and make broad for those who aimed rather at a journalistic and shorthand method of illustration. (See also Caricature and Cartoon.)

In connection with this transitional period, illustrations for the Graphic by Houghton, Pinwell, Sir Hubert von Herkomer, E. J. Gregory, H. Woods, Charles Green, H. Paterson (Mrs Allingham), and William Small deserve special mention. However, it was William Small who played a key role in shifting from line work to color, which significantly lowered the artistic quality of illustration during the 1870s and 1880s to near mediocrity. Several highly skilled artists worked in illustration during this time: in addition to the already mentioned Graphic artists, there were Luke Fildes, Frank Holl, S. P. Hall, Paul Renouard, and a few others of lesser talent. But interest was shifting from black-and-white work to color. Kate Greenaway started creating her lovely, idealized depictions of children in mob caps and long skirts. Walter Crane, similarly, designed illustrated nursery rhymes; while Randolph Caldecott entered the scene with his lively and fresh depictions of hunting life and revelry typical of the English gentry. Working with a broad outline, which evoked the brush with its relaxed freedom, and adding washes of conventional color for enhancement, he was among the first in England to show signs of Japanese influence. His illustrated children's books relied even more on color; while in black-and-white, as seen in his illustrations for Bracebridge Hall (1876), pen and ink began to replace pencil and shaped a new and more independent style of drawing. This style was adopted by many skilled artists, including Harry Furniss, Hugh Thomson, and others, until the influence of E. A. Abbey’s more fluid and elaborate penmanship further advanced the pursuit of finesse and illusion, and that of Phil May, who learned from Linley Sambourne, simplified and broadened the approach for those who focused on a more journalistic and shorthand method of illustration. (See also Caricature and Cartoon.)

Under the absolutely liberating conditions of “process reproduction” (see Process) the latest developments in illustration on its lighter and more popular side are full of French influences, or ready to follow the wind in any fresh direction, whether to America or Japan; but on the graver side they show a strong leaning towards the older traditions of the ’sixties and of Pre-Raphaelitism. The founding by William Morris of the Kelmscott Press in 1891, through which were produced a series of decorated and illustrated books, aimed frankly at a revival of medieval taste. In Morris’s books decorative effect and sense of material claimed mastery over the whole scheme, and subdued the illustrations to a sort of glorious captivity into which no breath of modern spirit could be breathed. The illustrations of Burne-Jones filled with a happy touch of archaism the decorative borders of William Morris; and only a little less happy, apart from their imaginative inferiority, were the serious efforts of Walter Crane and one or two others. Directly under the Morris influence arose the “Birmingham school,” with an entire devotion to decorative methods and still archaic effects which 324 tended sometimes to rather inane technical results. Among its leaders may be named Arthur Gaskin, C. M. Gere and E. H. New; while work not dissimilar but more independent in spirit had already been done by Selwyn Image and H. P. Horne in the Century Guild Hobby-Horse. But far greater originality and force belonged to the work of a group, known for a time as the neo-Pre-Raphaelites, which joined to an earnest study of the past a scrupulously open mind towards more modern influences. Its earliest expression of existence was the publication of an occasional periodical, the Dial (1889-1897), but before long its influence became felt outside its first narrow limits. The technical influence of Abbey, but still more the emotional and intellectual teaching of Rossetti and Millais, together with side-influences from the few great French symbolists, were, apart from their own originality, the forces which gave distinction to the work of C. S. Ricketts, C. H. Shannon, R. Savage and their immediate following. Beauty of line, languorous passion, symbolism full of literary allusions, and a fondness for the life of any age but the present, are the characteristics of the school. Their influence fell very much in the same quarters where Morris found a welcome; but an affinity for the Italian rather than the German masters (shown especially in the “Vale Press” publications), and a studied note of world-weariness, kept them somewhat apart from the sturdy medievalism of Morris, and linked them intellectually with the decadent school initiated by the wayward genius of Aubrey Beardsley. But though broadly men may be classed in groups, no grouping will supply a formula for all the noteworthy work produced when men are drawn this way and that by current influences. Among artists resolutely independent of contemporary coteries may be named W. Strang, whose grave, rugged work shows him a pupil, through Legros, of Dürer and others of the old masters; T. Sturge Moore, an original engraver of designs which have an equal affinity for Blake, Calvert and Hokusai; W. Nicholson, whose style shows a dignified return to the best part of the Rowlandson tradition; and E. J. Sullivan. In the closing years of the 19th century Aubrey Beardsley became the creator of an entirely novel style of decorative illustration. Drawing inspiration from all sources of European and Japanese art, he produced, by the force of a vivid personality and extraordinary technical skill, a result which was highly original and impressive. To a genuine liking for analysis of repulsive and vicious types of humanity he added an exquisite sense of line, balance and mass; and partly by succès de scandale, partly by genuine artistic brilliance, he gathered round him a host of imitators, to whom, for the most part, he was able to impart only his more mediocre qualities.

Under the truly liberating conditions of “process reproduction” (see Process), the latest developments in illustration on its lighter and more popular side are filled with French influences or eager to follow new trends, whether toward America or Japan; however, on the more serious side, they exhibit a strong preference for the older traditions of the 1860s and Pre-Raphaelitism. William Morris founded the Kelmscott Press in 1891, producing a series of decorated and illustrated books aimed at reviving medieval taste. In Morris’s books, decorative effect and material richness took precedence over the overall design, confining the illustrations to a kind of glorious captivity that excluded any modern spirit. Burne-Jones’s illustrations added a joyful touch of antiquity to the decorative borders of William Morris; somewhat less successful, aside from their imaginative shortcomings, were the serious works of Walter Crane and a few others. Under Morris's influence arose the “Birmingham school,” dedicated to decorative techniques and still-archaic effects, which sometimes led to rather trivial technical outcomes. Prominent figures included Arthur Gaskin, C. M. Gere, and E. H. New; meanwhile, similar yet more independent work had already been done by Selwyn Image and H. P. Horne in the Century Guild Hobby-Horse. However, a far greater originality and impact characterized the work of a group known for a time as the neo-Pre-Raphaelites, which combined a serious study of the past with a highly receptive approach to modern influences. Their first notable output was an occasional periodical called the Dial (1889-1897), but soon their influence extended beyond its initial boundaries. The technical influence of Abbey, even more so the emotional and intellectual teachings of Rossetti and Millais, along with minor influences from a few major French symbolists, were the forces that shaped the distinctive work of C. S. Ricketts, C. H. Shannon, R. Savage, and their immediate followers, apart from their own originality. Characteristics of this school include beauty of line, languorous passion, symbolism rich in literary references, and a fondness for life in any era but the present. Their influence reached the same circles where Morris was welcomed; however, their preference for Italian rather than German masters (notably in the “Vale Press” publications) and a deliberate note of world-weariness set them somewhat apart from Morris’s robust medievalism, connecting them intellectually with the decadent school sparked by the unpredictable genius of Aubrey Beardsley. While it is possible to categorize artists broadly, no simple classification can capture all the noteworthy work produced by those swayed by current influences. Artists who remained resolutely independent of contemporary groups include W. Strang, whose serious, rugged work shows he is a pupil, through Legros, of Dürer and other old masters; T. Sturge Moore, an innovative engraver whose designs resonate with Blake, Calvert, and Hokusai; W. Nicholson, whose style represents a dignified return to the best aspects of the Rowlandson tradition; and E. J. Sullivan. In the late 19th century, Aubrey Beardsley emerged as the creator of an entirely new style of decorative illustration. He drew inspiration from various European and Japanese art sources, producing, through the power of a vivid personality and exceptional technical skill, a highly original and impressive result. With a genuine interest in analyzing repulsive and corrupt types of humanity, he also possessed an exquisite sense of line, balance, and mass; and partly through succès de scandale, partly through true artistic brilliance, he attracted many imitators, to whom, for the most part, he could only impart his more mediocre qualities.

In America, until a comparatively recent date, illustration bowed the knee to the superior excellence of the engraver over the artist. Not until the brilliant pen-drawing of E. A. Abbey carried the day with the black-and-white artists of England did United States. any work of real moment emanate from the United States, unless that of Elihu Vedder be regarded as an exception. Howard Pyle is a brilliant imitator of Dürer; he has also the ability to adapt himself to draughtsmanship of a more modern tendency. C. S. Reinhart was an artist of directness and force, in a style based upon modern French and German examples; while of greater originality as a whole, though derivative in detail, is the fanciful penmanship of Alfred Brennan. Other artists who stand in the front rank of American illustrators, and whose works appear chiefly in the pages of Scribner’s, Harper’s and the Century Magazine, are W. T. Smedley, F. S. Church, R. Blum, Wenzell, A. B. Frost, and in particular C. Dana Gibson, the last of whom gained a reputation in England as an American du Maurier.

In America, until relatively recently, illustration was secondary to the engraver's skill over that of the artist. It wasn't until E. A. Abbey's exceptional pen drawings impressed the black-and-white artists of England that any significant work truly came out of the United States, unless we consider Elihu Vedder's work as an exception. Howard Pyle is an impressive imitator of Dürer; he can also adapt to more modern styles of drawing. C. S. Reinhart was an artist known for his straightforward and powerful approach, influenced by modern French and German styles; while Alfred Brennan, although he was more original overall, had derivative elements in his imaginative penwork. Other prominent American illustrators, whose works mainly appear in the pages of Scribner’s, Harper’s, and The Century Magazine, include W. T. Smedley, F. S. Church, R. Blum, Wenzell, A. B. Frost, and particularly C. Dana Gibson, who earned a reputation in England as the American du Maurier.

The record of modern French illustration goes back to the day when political caricature and the Napoleonic legend divided between them the triumphs of early lithography. The illustrators of France at that period were also her France. greatest artists. Of the historical and romantic school were D. Raffet, Nicholas J. Charlet, Géricault, Delacroix, J. B. Isabey and Achille Devéria, many of whose works appeared in L’Artiste, a paper founded in 1831 as the official organ of the romanticists; while the realists were led in the direction of caricature by two artists of such enormous force as Gavarni and Honoré Daumier, whose works, appearing in La Lithographie Mensuelle, Le Charivari and La Caricature, ran the gauntlet of political interference and suppression during a troubled period of French politics—which was the very cause of their prosperity. Behind these men lay the influence of the great Spanish realist Goya. Following upon the harsh satire and venomous realism of this famous school of pictorial invective, the influence of the Barbizon school came as a milder force; but the power of its artists did not show in the direction of original lithography, and far more value attaches to the few woodcuts of J. F. Millet’s studies of peasant life. In these we see clearly the tendency of French illustrative art to keep as far as possible the authentic and sketch-like touch of the artist; and it was no doubt from this tendency that so many of the great French illustrators retained lithography rather than commit themselves to the middleman engraver. Nevertheless, from about the year 1830 many French artists produced illustrations which were interpreted upon the wood for the most part by English engravers. Cunier’s editions of Paul et Virginie and La Chaumière Indienne, illustrated by Huet, Jacque, Isabey, Johannot and Meissonier, were followed by Meissonier’s more famous illustrations to Contes rémois. After Meissonier came J. B. E. Detaille and Alphonse M. de Neuville and, with a voluminous style of his own, L. A. G. Doré. By the majority of these artists the drawing for the engraver seems to have been done with the pen; and the tendency to penmanship was still more accentuated when from Spain came the influence of M. J. Fortuny’s brilliant technique; while after him, again, came Daniel Vierge, to make, as it were, the point of the pen still more pointed. During the middle period of the 19th century the best French illustration was serious in character; but among the later men, when we have recognized the grave beauty of Grasset’s Les Quatre Fils d’Aymon (in spite of his vicious treatment of the page by flooding washes of colour through the type itself), and the delicate grace of Boutet de Monvel’s Jeanne d’Arc, also in colours, it is to the illustrators of the comic papers that we have to go for the most typical and most audacious specimens of French art. In the pages of Gil Blas, Le Pierrot, L’Écho de Paris, Le Figaro Illustré, Le Courrier Français, and similar publications, are to be found, reproduced with a dexterity of process unsurpassed in England, the designs of J. L. Forain, C. L. Léandre, L. A, Willette and T. A. Steinlen, the leaders of a school enterprising in technique, and with a mixture of subtlety and grossness in its humour. Caran d’Ache also became celebrated as a draughtsman of comic drama in outline.

The history of modern French illustration dates back to the time when political caricature and the Napoleonic legend took center stage alongside the early successes of lithography. The illustrators of France during that period were also her greatest artists. From the historical and romantic schools came D. Raffet, Nicholas J. Charlet, Géricault, Delacroix, J. B. Isabey, and Achille Devéria, many of whose works appeared in L’Artiste, a publication established in 1831 as the official voice of the romanticists. Meanwhile, the realists were steered toward caricature by powerful artists like Gavarni and Honoré Daumier, whose works, featured in La Lithographie Mensuelle, Le Charivari, and La Caricature, faced political interference and censorship during a tumultuous era in French politics—this very conflict contributed to their success. Behind these figures lay the influence of the renowned Spanish realist Goya. Following the harsh satire and biting realism of this iconic school of illustrative critique, the influence of the Barbizon school emerged as a gentler force; however, the impact of its artists didn't translate into original lithography, and the few woodcuts of J. F. Millet's studies of peasant life hold more value. In these pieces, we clearly see the tendency of French illustrative art to maintain the artist's authentic, sketch-like style, which likely led many great French illustrators to prefer lithography over working with engravers. Nevertheless, starting around 1830, many French artists produced illustrations mostly interpreted on wood by English engravers. Cunier's editions of Paul et Virginie and La Chaumière Indienne, illustrated by Huet, Jacque, Isabey, Johannot, and Meissonier, were followed by Meissonier’s well-known illustrations for Contes rémois. After Meissonier, there came J. B. E. Detaille and Alphonse M. de Neuville, along with L. A. G. Doré, known for his own voluminous style. Most of these artists seemed to use pen drawing for the engraver; this penmanship trend intensified with the arrival of M. J. Fortuny’s brilliant technique from Spain, followed by Daniel Vierge, who refined the pen style even further. During the mid-19th century, the best French illustrations had a serious tone; however, among the later artists, once we appreciate the solemn beauty of Grasset’s Les Quatre Fils d’Aymon (despite his harsh treatment of pages with excessive washes of color that disrupted the text), and the delicate elegance of Boutet de Monvel’s Jeanne d’Arc, also in color, we must turn to the illustrators of comic papers for the most typical and daring examples of French art. In the pages of Gil Blas, Le Pierrot, L’Écho de Paris, Le Figaro Illustré, Le Courrier Français, and similar publications, the designs of J. L. Forain, C. L. Léandre, L. A. Willette, and T. A. Steinlen are reproduced with a level of skill unmatched in England. These artists led a school that was bold in technique and combined subtlety with crudeness in its humor. Caran d’Ache also became famous for his comic drawings.

Among illustrators of Teutonic race the one artist who seems worthy of comparison with the great Menzel is Hans Tegner, if, indeed, he be not in some respects his technical superior; but apart from these two, the illustrators respectively of Germany. Kügler’s Frederick the Great and Holberg’s Comedies, there is no German, Danish or Dutch illustrator who can lay claim to first rank. Max Klinger, A. Böcklin, W. Trübner, Franz Stück and Hans Thoma are all symbolists who combine in a singular degree force with brutality; the imaginative quality in their work is for the most part ruined by the hard, braggart way in which it is driven home. The achievements and tendency of the later school of illustration in Germany are best seen in the weekly illustrated journal, Jugend, of Munich. Typical of an older German school is the work of Adolf Oberländer, a solid, scientific sort of caricaturist, whose illustrations are at times so monumental that the humour in them seems crushed out of life. Others who command high qualities of technique are W. Dietz, L. von Nagel, Hermann Vogel, H. Lüders and Robert Haug. Behind all these men in greater or less degree lies the influence of Menzel’s coldly balanced and dry-lighted realism; but wherever the influence of Menzel ceases, the merit of German illustration for the most part tends to disappear or become mediocre.

Among illustrators of German descent, the one artist who seems comparable to the great Menzel is Hans Tegner, if not in some ways his technical superior. Besides these two, the illustrators of Germany. Kügler’s Frederick the Great and Holberg’s Comedies, there aren’t any German, Danish, or Dutch illustrators who can claim top rank. Max Klinger, A. Böcklin, W. Trübner, Franz Stück, and Hans Thoma are all symbolists who uniquely blend strength with brutality; the imaginative quality in their work is mostly ruined by the harsh, boastful way in which it's expressed. The achievements and trends of the later school of illustration in Germany are best seen in the weekly illustrated journal, Jugend, published in Munich. A typical figure from an older German school is Adolf Oberländer, a solid, scientific type of caricaturist, whose illustrations are sometimes so monumental that the humor in them feels drained from life. Others who demonstrate strong technical skills include W. Dietz, L. von Nagel, Hermann Vogel, H. Lüders, and Robert Haug. Behind all these men, to varying degrees, lies the influence of Menzel’s cold, balanced, and dry-lighted realism; but wherever Menzel's influence ends, the quality of German illustration mostly tends to vanish or become average.

Authorities.—W. J. Linton, The Masters of Wood Engraving (London, 1889); C. G. Harper, English Pen Artists of To-day (London, 1892); Joseph Pennell, Pen Drawing and Pen Draughtsmen (London, 1894), Modern Illustration (London, 1895); Walter Crane, The Decorative Illustration of Books (London, 1896); Gleeson White, English Illustration: “The ’Sixties”: 1855-1870 (Westminster, 1897); W. A. Chatto, A Treatise on Wood Engraving (London, n.d.); Bar-le-Duc, Les Illustrations du XIXe siècle (Paris, 1882); T. Kutschmann, Geschichte der deutschen Illustration vom ersten Auftreten des Formschnittes bis auf die Gegenwart (Berlin, 1899).

Authorities.—W. J. Linton, The Masters of Wood Engraving (London, 1889); C. G. Harper, English Pen Artists of Today (London, 1892); Joseph Pennell, Pen Drawing and Pen Draughtsmen (London, 1894), Modern Illustration (London, 1895); Walter Crane, The Decorative Illustration of Books (London, 1896); Gleeson White, English Illustration: “The ’Sixties”: 1855-1870 (Westminster, 1897); W. A. Chatto, A Treatise on Wood Engraving (London, n.d.); Bar-le-Duc, Les Illustrations du XIXe siècle (Paris, 1882); T. Kutschmann, Geschichte der deutschen Illustration vom ersten Auftreten des Formschnittes bis auf die Gegenwart (Berlin, 1899).

(L. Ho.)

Technical Developments.

Tech Innovations.

The history of illustration, apart from the merits of individual artists, during the period since the year 1875, is mainly that of the development of what is called Process (q.v.), the term applied to methods of reproducing a drawing or photograph which depend on the use of some mechanical agency in the making of the block, as distinguished from such products of manual skill as steel or wood-engraving, lithography and the like. There is good reason to believe that the art of stereotyping—the multiplication of an already existing block by means of moulds and casts—is as old as the 15th century; and the early processes were, in a measure, a refinement upon this: with the difference that they aimed at the making of a metal block by means of a cast of the lines of the drawing itself, the background of which had been cut away so as to leave the design in a definite relief. Experiments of this nature may be said to have assumed practical shape from the time of the invention of Palmer’s process called at first Glyphography, about the year 1844; this was afterwards perfected and used to a considerable extent under the name of Dawson’s Typographic Etching, and its results were in many cases quite admirable, and often appear in books and periodicals of the first part of the period with which we are now concerned. The Graphic, for instance, published its first process block in 1876, and the Illustrated London News also made similar experiments at about the same time.

The history of illustration, beyond the individual talents of artists, since 1875 mainly revolves around the growth of what's known as Process (q.v.), which refers to techniques for reproducing a drawing or photograph using some mechanical method to create the block, as opposed to traditional manual techniques like steel or wood engraving, lithography, and similar practices. It’s widely believed that the art of stereotyping—the replication of an existing block using molds and casts—dates back to the 15th century; early processes were a refinement of this, focusing on creating a metal block from a cast of the drawing's lines, with the background cut away to highlight the design in relief. Experiments like these became practical around the time Palmer invented his process known as Glyphography around 1844; this was later refined and widely used under the name Dawson’s Typographic Etching, producing results that were often impressive and frequently appeared in books and periodicals from the early part of the period we are examining. For example, the Graphic released its first process block in 1876, and the Illustrated London News conducted similar experiments around the same time.

From this time begins the gradual application of photography to the uses of illustration, the first successful line blocks made by 325 its help being probably those of Gillot, at Paris, in the early ’eighties. The next stage was to be the invention of some means of reproducing wash drawings. To do this it was necessary for the surface of the block to be so broken up that every tone of the drawing should be represented thereon by a grain holding ink enough to reproduce it. This was finally accomplished by the insertion of a screen, in the camera, between the lens and the plate—the effect of which was to break up the whole surface of the negative into dots, and so secure, when printed on a zinc plate and etched, an approximation to the desired result. Half-tone blocks (as they were called) of this nature (see Process) were used in the Graphic from 1884 and the Illustrated London News from 1885 onwards, the methods at first in favour being those of Meisenbach and Boussod Valadon and Co.’s phototype. Lemercier and Petit of Paris, Angerer and Göschl of Vienna, and F. Ives of Philadelphia also perfected processes giving a similar result, a block by the latter appearing in the Century magazine as early as 1882. Processes of this description had, however, been used for some years before by Henry Blackburn in his Academy Notes.

From this time onwards, photography gradually started being used for illustration purposes, with the first successful line blocks likely created by Gillot in Paris in the early 1880s. The next step was to invent a method to reproduce wash drawings. To achieve this, the surface of the block needed to be finely broken up so that every tone of the drawing was represented by a grain that could hold enough ink to reproduce it. This was finally achieved by placing a screen in the camera between the lens and the plate, which broke the entire surface of the negative into dots. When printed on a zinc plate and etched, this method produced an approximation of the desired result. Half-tone blocks (as they were called) of this kind (see Process) were used in the Graphic starting in 1884 and in the Illustrated London News from 1885 onwards. The initially popular methods were those of Meisenbach and Boussod Valadon and Co.’s phototype. Lemercier and Petit from Paris, Angerer and Göschl from Vienna, and F. Ives from Philadelphia also developed processes that yielded similar results, with a block from the latter appearing in the Century magazine as early as 1882. However, Henry Blackburn had already been using similar processes for several years in his Academy Notes.

During the decade 1875-1885, however, the main body of illustration was accomplished by wood-engraving, which a few years earlier had achieved such splendid results. Its artistic qualities were now at a rather low ebb, although good facsimile engravings of pen-drawings were not infrequent. The two great illustrated periodicals already referred to during that period relied more upon pictorial than journalistic work. An increasing tendency towards the illustration of the events of the day was certainly shown, but the whole purpose of the journal was not, as at present, subordinated thereto. The chief illustrated magazines of the time, Harper’s, the Century, the English Illustrated, were also content with the older methods, and are filled with wood-engravings, in which, if the value of the simple line forming the chief quality of the earlier work has disappeared, a most astonishing delicacy and success were obtained in the reproduction of tone.

During the decade from 1875 to 1885, most illustrations were done using wood engraving, which had produced impressive results just a few years earlier. Its artistic quality had now declined, though good facsimile engravings of pen drawings were still fairly common. The two major illustrated magazines mentioned earlier relied more on visuals than on journalistic content during this time. While there was a growing trend to illustrate current events, the overall aim of the magazine was not, as it is today, entirely focused on that. The leading illustrated magazines of the time, Harper’s, the Century, and the English Illustrated, also stuck with older methods and featured wood engravings. Even though the simple line that characterized earlier work had lost its value, these engravings achieved remarkable delicacy and success in reproducing tone.

Perhaps the most notable and most characteristic production of the time in England was colour-printing. The Graphic and the Illustrated London News published full-page supplements of high technical merit printed from wood-blocks in conjunction with metal plates, the latter sometimes having a relief aquatint surface which produced an effect of stipple upon the shading; metal was also used in preference to wood for the printing of certain colours. The children’s books illustrated by Randolph Caldecott, Walter Crane and Kate Greenaway at this time are among the finest specimens of colour-printing yet seen outside of Japan; in them the use of flat masses of pleasant colour in connexion with a bold and simple outline was carried to a very high pitch of excellence. These plates were generally printed by Edmund Evans. In 1887 the use of process was becoming still more general; but its future was by no means adequately foreseen, and the blocks of this and the next few years are anything but satisfactory. This, it soon appeared, was due to inefficient printing on the one hand, and, on the other, to a want of recognition by artists of the special qualities of drawing most suitable for photographic reproduction. The publication of Quevedo’s Pablo de Segovia with illustrations by Daniel Vierge in 1882, although hardly noticed at the time, was to be a revelation of the possibilities of the new development; and a serious study of pen-drawing from this point of view was soon inaugurated by the issue of Joseph Pennell’s Pen Drawing and Pen Draughtsmen in 1889, followed in by C. G. Harper’s English Pen Artists of To-day and in 1896 by Walter Crane’s Decorative Illustration of Books. At this time also the influence of Aubrey Beardsley made itself strongly felt, not merely as a matter of style, but, by the use of simple line or mass of solid black, as an almost perfect type of the work most suitable to the needs of process. Wider experience of printing requirements, and finer workmanship in the actual making of the blocks, in Paris, Vienna, New York and London, soon brought the half-tone process into great vogue. The spread of education has enormously increased the demand for ephemeral literature, more especially that which lends itself to pictorial illustration; and the photograph or drawing in wash reproduced in half-tone has of late to a great extent ousted line work from the better class of both books and periodicals.

Perhaps the most notable and distinctive production of the time in England was color printing. The Graphic and the Illustrated London News published full-page supplements of high technical quality printed from wood blocks in combination with metal plates, which sometimes had a relief aquatint surface that created a stipple effect in the shading; metal was also favored over wood for printing certain colors. The children’s books illustrated by Randolph Caldecott, Walter Crane, and Kate Greenaway during this period are among the best examples of color printing seen outside of Japan; they achieved a high level of excellence through the use of flat areas of pleasing color alongside bold and simple outlines. These plates were usually printed by Edmund Evans. By 1887, the use of process printing was becoming more widespread; however, its future was far from clear, and the blocks produced during this and the following few years were far from satisfactory. It soon became apparent that this was due to poor printing on one hand, and on the other, a lack of recognition by artists of the special qualities of drawing most suited for photographic reproduction. The publication of Quevedo’s Pablo de Segovia with illustrations by Daniel Vierge in 1882, although barely acknowledged at the time, would reveal the potential of this new development; a serious exploration of pen drawing from this perspective began shortly after with the release of Joseph Pennell’s Pen Drawing and Pen Draughtsmen in 1889, followed by C. G. Harper’s English Pen Artists of To-day and later by Walter Crane’s Decorative Illustration of Books in 1896. During this time, Aubrey Beardsley’s influence became strongly felt, not only in terms of style but also through the use of simple lines or solid black masses, which proved to be an almost perfect type of work tailored to the needs of process printing. Broader experience with printing requirements and better craftsmanship in the creation of the blocks in Paris, Vienna, New York, and London quickly made the half-tone process very popular. The expansion of education significantly increased the demand for ephemeral literature, especially material suitable for pictorial illustration; recently, photographs or drawings in wash reproduced in half-tone have largely replaced line work in higher-quality books and periodicals.

Improvements in machinery have made it possible to print illustrations at a very high speed; and the facility with which photographs can now be taken of scenes such as the public delight to see reproduced in pictures has brought about an almost complete change in pictorial journalism. In addition, reference must be made to an extraordinary increase in the numbers and circulation of cheap periodical publications depending to a very large extent for popularity on their illustrations. Several of these, printed on the coarsest paper, from rotary machines, sell to the extent of hundreds of thousands of copies per week. It was inevitable that this cheapening process should not be permitted to develop without opposition, and the Dial (1889-1897) must be looked on as a protest by the band of artists who promoted it against the unintelligent book-making now becoming prevalent. Much more effective and far-reaching in the same direction was the influence of William Morris, as shown in the publications of the Kelmscott Press (dating from 1891). In these volumes the aim was to produce illustrations and ornaments which were of their own nature akin to, and thus able to harmonize with the type, and to do this by pure handicraft work. As a result, a distinct improvement is to be found in the mere book-making of Great Britain; and although the main force of the movement soon spent itself in somewhat uninspired imitations, there can be no doubt of the survival of a taste for well-produced volumes, in which the relationship of type, paper, illustration and binding has been a matter of careful and artistic consideration. Under this influence, a notable feature has been the re-issue, in an excellent form, of illustrated editions of the works of most of the famous writers.

Improvements in machinery have made it possible to print illustrations at very high speeds, and the ease with which photographs can now be taken of scenes that the public loves to see in pictures has led to a nearly complete transformation in visual journalism. Additionally, it's important to note the extraordinary increase in the number and circulation of inexpensive periodicals, which rely heavily on their illustrations for popularity. Several of these, printed on the roughest paper from rotary machines, sell hundreds of thousands of copies per week. It was inevitable that this drive for cheap production would face opposition, and the Dial (1889-1897) should be seen as a protest from a group of artists against the mindless book-making that was becoming widespread. Much more significant and impactful in the same vein was the influence of William Morris, as evidenced by the publications of the Kelmscott Press (starting in 1891). These volumes aimed to create illustrations and decorations that naturally complemented the type and achieved this through pure craftsmanship. As a result, there was a notable improvement in the quality of book-making in Great Britain; although the main momentum of the movement quickly faded into somewhat uninspired imitations, there's no doubt that a preference for well-crafted volumes remains, where the relationship between type, paper, illustration, and binding receives careful and artistic attention. Under this influence, a significant development has been the reissue, in an excellent format, of illustrated editions of the works of many famous writers.

In France the general movement has proceeded upon lines on the whole very similar. Process—especially what was called “Gillotage”—was adopted earlier, and used at first with greater liberality than in England, although wood-engraving has persisted effectively even up to our own time. In the various types of periodicals of which the Revue Illustrée, Figaro Illustré and Gil Blas Illustré may be taken as examples, the most noticeable feature is a use of colour-printing, which is far in advance of anything generally attempted in Great Britain. A favourite and effective process is that employed for the reproduction of chalk drawings (as by Steinlen), which consists of the application of a surface-tint of colour from a metal plate to a print from an ordinary process block.

In France, the overall trend has followed a path that’s largely similar. The process—especially what was known as “Gillotage”—was adopted earlier and initially used more liberally than in England, though wood engraving has remained significant even to this day. In various types of periodicals, with the Revue Illustrée, Figaro Illustré, and Gil Blas Illustré serving as examples, the most striking feature is the use of color printing, which is well ahead of what is generally attempted in Great Britain. A popular and effective method is the one used to reproduce chalk drawings (like those by Steinlen), which involves applying a surface tint of color from a metal plate to a print from a standard process block.

In Germany, Jugend, Simplicissimus, and other publications devoted to humour and caricature, employ colour-printing to a great extent with success. The organ of the artists of the younger German schools, Pan (1895), makes use of every means of illustration, and has especially cultivated lithography and wood-cuts, using these arts effectively but with some eccentricity. Holland has also employed coloured lithography for a remarkable series of children’s books illustrated by van Hoytema and others. The Viennese Kunst und Kunsthandwerk is an art publication which is exceptionally well produced and printed.

In Germany, Jugend, Simplicissimus, and other magazines focused on humor and caricature make great use of color printing with impressive results. The publication for the artists of the younger German schools, Pan (1895), utilizes various illustration techniques, particularly honing in on lithography and woodcuts, and employs these methods effectively, though sometimes in unconventional ways. Holland has also used colored lithography for an impressive series of children’s books illustrated by van Hoytema and others. The Viennese Kunst und Kunsthandwerk is an art magazine that is exceptionally well-produced and printed.

Illustration in the United States has some few characteristics which differentiate it from that of other countries. The later school of fine wood-engraving is even yet in existence. American artists also introduced an effective use of the process block, namely, the engraving or working over of the whole or certain portions of it by hand. This is generally done by an engraver, but in certain cases it has been the work of the original draughtsman, and its possibilities have been foreseen by him in making his drawing. The only other variant of note is the use of half-tone blocks superimposed for various colours.

Illustration in the United States has a few characteristics that set it apart from other countries. The later style of fine wood engraving still exists today. American artists also introduced a smart use of the process block, which involves engraving or manually working on all or certain parts of it. This is usually done by an engraver, but sometimes it's the original artist who does the work, envisioning its potential while creating the drawing. The only other noteworthy variation is the use of half-tone blocks layered for different colors.

(E. F. S.)

ILLUSTRES, the Latin name given to the highest magistrates of the later Roman Empire. The designation was at first informal, and not strictly differentiated from other marks of honour. From the time of Valentinian I. it became an official title of the consuls, the chief praefecti or ministers, and of the commanders-in-chief of the army. Its usage was eventually extended to lower grades of the imperial service, and to pensionaries from the order of the spectabiles. The Illustres were privileged to be tried in criminal cases by none but the emperor or his deputy, and to delegate procuratores to represent them in the courts.

ILLUSTRES, is the Latin term used for the highest officials of the later Roman Empire. Initially, it was an informal title and wasn’t clearly distinct from other forms of honor. Starting with Valentinian I, it became an official title for consuls, chief praefecti or ministers, and commanders-in-chief of the army. Over time, the title was also applied to lower ranks within the imperial administration and to pensioners from the order of the spectabiles. The Illustres had the special privilege of being tried in criminal cases solely by the emperor or his representative, and they could appoint procuratores to act on their behalf in court.

See O. Hirschfeld in Sitzungsberichte der Berliner Akademie (1901), p. 594 sqq.; and T. Hodgkin, Italy and her Invaders (Oxford, 1892), i. 603-617.

See O. Hirschfeld in Sitzungsberichte der Berliner Akademie (1901), p. 594 and following; and T. Hodgkin, Italy and her Invaders (Oxford, 1892), i. 603-617.


ILLYRIA, a name applied to part of the Balkan Peninsula extending along the eastern shore of the Adriatic from Fiume to Durazzo, and inland as far as the Danube and the Servian Morava. This region comprises the modern provinces or states of Dalmatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Montenegro, with the southern half of Croatia-Slavonia, part of western Servia, the sanjak of Novibazar, and the extreme north of Albania. As the inhabitants of Illyria never attained complete political unity its landward boundaries were never clearly defined. Indeed, the very name seems originally to have been an ethnological rather than a geographical term; the older Greek historians usually wrote of “the Illyrians” (οἰ Ἰλλυρίοι), while the names Illyris (Ἰλλυρίς) or less commonly Illyria (Ἰλλυρία) came subsequently to be used of the indeterminate area inhabited by the Illyrian tribes, i.e. a region extending eastward from the Adriatic between Liburnia on the N. and Epirus on the S., and gradually shading off into the territories of kindred peoples towards Thrace. The Latin name Illyricum was not, unless at a very early period, synonymous with Illyria; it also may originally have signified the land inhabited by the Illyrians, but it became a political expression, and was applied to various divisions of the Roman Empire, the boundaries of which were frequently changed and often included an area far larger than Illyria properly so called. Vienna and Athens at different times formed part of Illyricum, but no geographer would ever have included these cities in Illyria.

ILLYRIA, is a term used for part of the Balkan Peninsula stretching along the eastern coast of the Adriatic from Fiume to Durazzo, and inland as far as the Danube and the Servian Morava. This area includes the modern provinces or states of Dalmatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Montenegro, along with the southern half of Croatia-Slavonia, parts of western Servia, the sanjak of Novibazar, and the northernmost area of Albania. Since the people of Illyria never achieved complete political unity, its land boundaries were never well-defined. In fact, the name seems to have originally been more about ethnicity than geography; early Greek historians typically referred to “the Illyrians” (the Illyrians), while the terms Illyris (Illirium) or, less frequently, Illyria (Illyria) came later to describe the vague area where the Illyrian tribes lived, meaning a region that extended eastward from the Adriatic between Liburnia to the north and Epirus to the south, gradually blending into the territories of related peoples toward Thrace. The Latin term Illyricum was not, unless in very early times, interchangeable with Illyria; it may have initially denoted the land of the Illyrians, but it evolved into a political term and was used to refer to various divisions of the Roman Empire, whose boundaries frequently changed and often included a much larger area than what is properly called Illyria. At different times, Vienna and Athens were part of Illyricum, but no geographer would have included these cities in Illyria.

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Ethnology.—Little can be learned from written sources of the origin and character of the Illyrians. The Greek legend that Cadmus and Harmonia settled in Illyria and became the parents of Illyrius, the eponymous ancestor of the whole Illyrian people, has been interpreted as an indication that the Greeks recognized some affinity between themselves and the Illyrians; but this inference is based on insufficient data. Herodotus and other Greek historians represent the Illyrians as a barbarous people, who resembled the ruder tribes of Thrace. Both are described as tattooing their persons and offering human sacrifices to their gods. The women of Illyria seem to have occupied a high position socially and even to have exercised political power. Queens are mentioned among their rulers. Fuller and more trustworthy information can be obtained from archaeological evidence. In Bosnia the lake-dwellings at Butmir, the cemeteries of Jezerine and Glasinac and other sites have yielded numerous stone and horn implements, iron and bronze ornaments, weapons, &c., and objects of more recent date fashioned in silver, tin, amber and even glass. These illustrate various stages in the development of primitive Illyrian civilization, from the neolithic age onward. The Hallstatt and La Tène cultures are especially well represented. (See W. Ridgeway, The Early Age of Greece, 1901; R. Munro, Bosnia-Herzegovina and Dalmatia, Edinburgh, 1900; and W. Radimský, Die neolithische Station von Butmir, Vienna, 1895-1898.) Similar discoveries have been made in Dalmatia, as among the tumuli on the Sabbioncello promontory, and in Croatia-Slavonia. H. Kiepert (“Über den Volkstamm der Leleges,” in Monatsber. Berl. Akad., 1861, p. 114) sought to prove that the Illyrians were akin to the Leleges; his theory was supported by E. Schrader, but is not generally accepted. In Dalmatia there appears to have been a large Celtic element, and Celtic place-names are common. The ancient Illyrian languages fall into two groups, the northern, closely connected with Venetic, and the southern, perhaps allied to Messapian and now probably represented by Albanian.

Ethnology.—There's not much we can learn from written sources about the origin and character of the Illyrians. The Greek myth that Cadmus and Harmonia settled in Illyria and became the parents of Illyrius, the legendary ancestor of all Illyrians, has been seen as a sign that the Greeks recognized some connection with the Illyrians; however, this guess is based on limited information. Herodotus and other Greek historians describe the Illyrians as a barbaric people, similar to the rougher tribes of Thrace. Both groups are noted for tattooing their bodies and making human sacrifices to their gods. Illyrian women seem to have held a significant social position and even exercised political power. Queens are mentioned among their leaders. More detailed and reliable information can be gathered from archaeological evidence. In Bosnia, the lake-dwellings at Butmir, the cemeteries of Jezerine and Glasinac, and other sites have produced many stone and horn tools, iron and bronze ornaments, weapons, etc., along with more recent objects made of silver, tin, amber, and even glass. These findings showcase various stages in the development of primitive Illyrian civilization, from the Neolithic age onwards. The Hallstatt and La Tène cultures are particularly well represented. (See W. Ridgeway, The Early Age of Greece, 1901; R. Munro, Bosnia-Herzegovina and Dalmatia, Edinburgh, 1900; and W. Radimský, Die neolithische Station von Butmir, Vienna, 1895-1898.) Similar discoveries have been made in Dalmatia, such as among the tumuli on the Sabbioncello promontory, and in Croatia-Slavonia. H. Kiepert (“Über den Volkstamm der Leleges,” in Monatsber. Berl. Akad., 1861, p. 114) tried to prove that the Illyrians were related to the Leleges; his theory was supported by E. Schrader, but is not widely accepted. In Dalmatia, there seems to have been a significant Celtic influence, and Celtic place-names are common. The ancient Illyrian languages are divided into two groups: the northern, closely linked to Venetic, and the southern, possibly related to Messapian and likely represented today by Albanian.

See K. Brugmann, Kurze vergleichende Grammatik der Indogermanischen Sprachen (Strassburg, 1904); and his larger Grundriss der vergleichenden Grammatik (2nd ed., Strassburg, 1897), with the authorities there quoted, especially P. Kretschmer, Einleitung in die Geschichte der Griechischen Sprachen (Göttingen, 1896): see also Albania.

See K. Brugmann, Short Comparative Grammar of the Indo-European Languages (Strasbourg, 1904); and his larger work Outline of Comparative Grammar (2nd ed., Strasbourg, 1897), with the sources referenced there, especially P. Kretschmer, Introduction to the History of the Greek Languages (Göttingen, 1896): see also Albania.

History.—Greek colonization on the Illyrian seaboard probably began late in the 7th century B.C. or early in the 6th century. The most important settlements appear to have been at Epidamnus (Durazzo), Tragurium (Traù), Rhizon (near Cattaro), Salona (near Spalato), Epidaurum (Ragusavecchia), Zara and on the islands of Curzola, Lesina and Lissa. There is a collection of Greek coins from Illyria in the museum at Agram, and the researches of Professor F. Bulié and others at Salona (see Spalato) have brought to light Greek inscriptions, Greek pottery, &c. dating from 600 B.C. But Greek influence seems never to have penetrated far into the interior, and even on the coast it was rapidly superseded by Latin civilization after the 3rd century B.C. Until then the Illyrian tribes appear to have lived in a state of intermittent warfare with their neighbours and one another. They are said by Herodotus (ix. 43) to have attacked the temple of Delphi. Brasidas with his small army of Spartans was assaulted by them on his march (424 B.C.) across Thessaly and Macedonia to attack the Athenian colonies in Thrace. The earlier history of the Macedonian kings is one constant struggle against the Illyrian tribes. The migrations of the Celts at the beginning of the 4th century disturbed the country between the Danube and the Adriatic. The Scordisci and other Celtic tribes settled there, and forced the Illyrians towards the south. The necessities of defence seem to have united the Illyrians under a chief Bardylis (about 383 B.C.) and his son Clitus. Bardylis nearly succeeded in destroying the rising kingdom of Macedonia; King Amyntas II was defeated, and a few years later Perdiccas was defeated and slain (359). But the great Philip crushed the Illyrians completely, and annexed part of their country. During the next century we hear of them as pirates. Issuing from the secluded harbours of the coast, they ravaged the shores of Italy and Greece, and preyed on the commerce of the Adriatic. The Greeks applied to Rome for help. Teuta, the Illyrian queen, rejected the Roman demands for redress, and murdered the ambassadors; but the two Illyrian Wars (229 and 219 B.C.) ended in the submission of the Illyrians, a considerable part of their territory being annexed by the conquerors. Illyria, however, remained a powerful kingdom with its capital at Scodra (Scutari in Albania), until 180 B.C., when the Dalmatians declared themselves independent of Gentius or Genthius, the king of Illyria, and founded a republic with its capital at Delminium (see Dalmatia: History, on the site of Delminium). In 168 Gentius came into conflict with the Romans, who conquered and annexed his country. Dalmatia was invaded by a Roman army under Gaius Marcius Figulus in 156, but Figulus was driven back to the Roman frontier, and in Dalmatia the Illyrians were not finally subdued until 165 years afterwards. Publius Scipio Nasica, who succeeded Figulus, captured Delminium, and in 119 L. Caecilius Metellus overran the country and received a triumph and the surname Dalmaticus. But in 51 a Dalmatian raid on Liburnia led to a renewal of hostilities; the Roman armies were often worsted, and although in 39 Asinius Pollio gained some successes (see Horace, Odes ii. 1. 15) these appear to have been exaggerated, and it was not until Octavian took the field in person that the Dalmatians submitted in 33. (For an account of the war see Appian, Illyrica, 24-28; Dio Cassius xlix. 38; Livy, Epit. 131, 132). They again revolted in 16 and 11, and in A.D. 6-9 joined the rebel Pannonians. Suetonius (Tiberius, 16) declares that they were the most formidable enemies with whom the Romans had had to contend since the Punic Wars. In A.D. 9, however, Tiberius entirely subjugated them, for which he was awarded a triumph in 12 (Dio Cass. lv. 23-29, lvi. 11-17; Vell. Pat. ii. 110-115). Thenceforward Dalmatia, Iapydia and Liburnia were united as the province of Illyricum.

History.—Greek colonization along the Illyrian coast likely started in the late 7th century BCE or early 6th century. The key settlements seem to have been at Epidamnus (Durazzo), Tragurium (Traù), Rhizon (near Cattaro), Salona (near Spalato), Epidaurum (Ragusavecchia), Zara, and on the islands of Curzola, Lesina, and Lissa. There’s a collection of Greek coins from Illyria in the museum at Agram, and research by Professor F. Bulié and others at Salona (see Spalato) has uncovered Greek inscriptions, Greek pottery, etc., dating back to 600 BCE However, Greek influence seems to have never reached far into the interior, and even on the coast it was quickly overtaken by Latin civilization after the 3rd century BCE Until then, the Illyrian tribes appeared to be engaged in intermittent warfare with their neighbors and among themselves. Herodotus (ix. 43) mentions that they attacked the temple of Delphi. Brasidas, leading a small army of Spartans, was attacked by them while marching (424 BCE) through Thessaly and Macedonia to assault the Athenian colonies in Thrace. The early history of the Macedonian kings is marked by continuous struggles against the Illyrian tribes. The migrations of the Celts at the beginning of the 4th century disrupted the area between the Danube and the Adriatic. The Scordisci and other Celtic tribes settled there, forcing the Illyrians southward. The need for defense seems to have united the Illyrians under a leader named Bardylis (around 383 BCE) and his son Clitus. Bardylis nearly succeeded in destroying the emerging kingdom of Macedonia; King Amyntas II was defeated, and a few years later Perdiccas was defeated and killed (359). But the great Philip completely crushed the Illyrians and annexed part of their territory. In the following century, we hear about them as pirates, launching from the hidden harbors along the coast to plunder the shores of Italy and Greece, disrupting Adriatic trade. The Greeks turned to Rome for assistance. Teuta, the Illyrian queen, dismissed the Roman demands for compensation and murdered the ambassadors; however, the two Illyrian Wars (229 and 219 BCE) resulted in the Illyrians’ submission, with a significant portion of their territory annexed by the victors. Nevertheless, Illyria remained a strong kingdom, with its capital at Scodra (Scutari in Albania), until 180 B.C., when the Dalmatians declared independence from Gentius or Genthius, the king of Illyria, establishing a republic with its capital at Delminium (see Dalmatia: History, on the site of Delminium). In 168, Gentius clashed with the Romans, who conquered and annexed his territory. Dalmatia was invaded by a Roman army under Gaius Marcius Figulus in 156, but Figulus was pushed back to the Roman border, and in Dalmatia, the Illyrians weren't fully subdued until 165 years later. Publius Scipio Nasica, who replaced Figulus, captured Delminium, and in 119 L. Caecilius Metellus swept through the region and received a triumph along with the nickname Dalmaticus. However, in 51 a Dalmatian raid on Liburnia sparked renewed hostilities; Roman armies faced significant defeats, and even though Asinius Pollio achieved some successes in 39 (see Horace, Odes ii. 1. 15), these seem to have been inflated, and it wasn't until Octavian took command himself that the Dalmatians surrendered in 33. (For details on the war, see Appian, Illyrica, 24-28; Dio Cassius xlix. 38; Livy, Epit. 131, 132). They revolted again in 16 and 11, and between CE 6-9 joined the rebel Pannonians. Suetonius (Tiberius, 16) claims they were the toughest enemies the Romans had faced since the Punic Wars. In CE 9, however, Tiberius completely subdued them, earning a triumph in 12 (Dio Cass. lv. 23-29, lvi. 11-17; Vell. Pat. ii. 110-115). From then on, Dalmatia, Iapydia, and Liburnia were merged into the province of Illyricum.

Latin civilization spread rapidly, the cultivation of the vine was introduced, gold-mining was carried on in Bosnia, and flourishing commercial cities arose along the coast. Illyria became one of the best recruiting grounds for the Roman legions; and in troubled times many Illyrian soldiers fought their way up from the ranks to the imperial purple. Claudius, Aurelian, Probus, Diocletian and Maximian were all sons of Illyrian peasants. It is probable, however, that most of the highland tribes now represented by the Albanians remained almost unaffected by Roman influence. The importance of Illyricum caused its name to be extended to many neighbouring districts; in the 2nd century A.D. the Illyricus Limes included Noricum, Pannonia, Moesia, Dacia and Thrace. In the reorganization of the empire by Diocletian (285) the diocese of Illyricum was created; it comprised Pannonia, Noricum and Dalmatia, while Dacia and Macedonia, together called Eastern Illyricum, were added later. Either Diocletian or after him Constantine made Illyricum one of the four prefectures, each governed by a praefectus praetorio, into which the empire was divided. This prefecture included Pannonia, Noricum, Crete and the entire Balkan peninsula except Thrace, which was attached by Constantine to the prefecture of the East. From the partition of the empire in 285 until 379 Illyricum was included in the Western Empire, but thenceforward Eastern Illyricum was annexed to the Eastern Empire; its frontier was almost identical with the line of demarcation between Latin-speaking and Greek-speaking peoples, and roughly corresponded to the boundary which now severs Latin from Greek Christianity in the Balkan peninsula. The whole peninsula except Thrace was still known as Illyricum, but was subdivided into Illyris Barbara or Romana and Illyris Graeca (Eastern Illyricum with Greece and Crete). The Via Egnatia, the great line of road which connected Rome with Constantinople and the East, led across Illyricum from Dyrrachium to Thessalonica.

Latin civilization spread quickly, the cultivation of vines was introduced, gold mining took place in Bosnia, and thriving commercial cities emerged along the coast. Illyria became one of the best recruiting grounds for the Roman legions, and during tough times, many Illyrian soldiers climbed from the ranks to become emperors. Claudius, Aurelian, Probus, Diocletian, and Maximian were all sons of Illyrian peasants. However, it's likely that most of the highland tribes now represented by the Albanians remained largely unaffected by Roman influence. The significance of Illyricum led to its name being extended to many neighboring areas; in the 2nd century A.D., the Illyricus Limes included Noricum, Pannonia, Moesia, Dacia, and Thrace. In the restructuring of the empire by Diocletian in 285, the diocese of Illyricum was established; it included Pannonia, Noricum, and Dalmatia, while Dacia and Macedonia, collectively referred to as Eastern Illyricum, were added later. Either Diocletian or after him, Constantine made Illyricum one of the four prefectures, each governed by a praefectus praetorio, into which the empire was divided. This prefecture included Pannonia, Noricum, Crete, and the entire Balkan peninsula except for Thrace, which Constantine attached to the prefecture of the East. From the division of the empire in 285 until 379, Illyricum was part of the Western Empire, but afterwards, Eastern Illyricum was joined with the Eastern Empire; its border closely matched the line of separation between Latin-speaking and Greek-speaking peoples, roughly corresponding to the boundary that currently divides Latin from Greek Christianity in the Balkan peninsula. The entire peninsula except Thrace was still referred to as Illyricum but was subdivided into Illyris Barbara or Romana and Illyris Graeca (Eastern Illyricum along with Greece and Crete). The Via Egnatia, the major road that linked Rome with Constantinople and the East, ran through Illyricum from Dyrrachium to Thessalonica.

In the 5th century began a series of invasions which profoundly modified the ethnical character and the civilization of the Illyrians. In 441 and 447 their country was ravaged by the Huns. In 481 Dalmatia was added to the Ostrogothic kingdom, which already included the more northerly parts of Illyricum, 327 i.e. Pannonia and Noricum. Dalmatia was partially reconquered by Justinian in 536, but after 565 it was devastated by the Avars, and throughout the century bands of Slavonic invaders had been gradually establishing themselves in Illyria, where, unlike the earlier barbarian conquerors, they formed permanent settlements. Between 600 and 650 the main body of the immigrants occupied Illyria (see Servia: History; and Slavs). It consisted of Croats and Serbs, two groups of tribes who spoke a single language and were so closely related that the origin of the distinction between them is obscure. The Croats settled in the western half of Illyria, the Serbs in the eastern; thus the former came gradually under the influence of Italy and Roman Catholicism, the latter under the influence of Byzantium and the Greek Church. Hence the distinction between them became a marked difference of civilization and creed, which has always tended to keep the Illyrian Slavs politically disunited.

In the 5th century, a series of invasions began that significantly changed the ethnic makeup and civilization of the Illyrians. In 441 and 447, the Huns devastated their land. In 481, Dalmatia was added to the Ostrogothic kingdom, which already included the northern parts of Illyricum, 327 i.e. Pannonia and Noricum. Dalmatia was partially reclaimed by Justinian in 536, but after 565, it was destroyed by the Avars, and throughout the century, groups of Slavic invaders slowly started to settle in Illyria, where, unlike earlier barbarian conquerors, they established permanent communities. Between 600 and 650, the main wave of immigrants occupied Illyria (see Servia: History; and Slavs). This group consisted of Croats and Serbs, two tribes that spoke the same language and were so closely related that the origins of their distinction are unclear. The Croats settled in the western half of Illyria, while the Serbs occupied the eastern part; as a result, the former gradually came under the influence of Italy and Roman Catholicism, while the latter were influenced by Byzantium and the Greek Church. Consequently, the differences between them became significant in terms of culture and belief, which has always contributed to the political disunity of the Illyrian Slavs.

The Croats and Serbs rapidly absorbed most of the Latinized Illyrians. But the wealthy and powerful city-states on the coast were strong enough to maintain their independence and their distinctively Italian character. Other Roman provincials took refuge in the mountains of the interior; these Mavrovlachi, as they were called (see Dalmatia: Population; and Vlachs), preserved their language and nationality for many centuries. The Illyrian tribes which had withstood the attraction of Roman civilization remained unconquered among the mountains of Albania and were never Slavonized. With these exceptions Illyria became entirely Serbo-Croatian in population, language and culture.

The Croats and Serbs quickly absorbed most of the Latinized Illyrians. However, the rich and powerful city-states along the coast were strong enough to keep their independence and maintain their distinctly Italian character. Other Roman provincials sought refuge in the interior mountains; these Mavrovlachi, as they were called (see Dalmatia: Population; and Vlachs), preserved their language and identity for many centuries. The Illyrian tribes that resisted the pull of Roman civilization remained unconquered in the mountains of Albania and were never Slavicized. With these exceptions, Illyria became entirely Serbo-Croatian in terms of population, language, and culture.

The name of Illyria had by this time disappeared from history. In literature it was preserved, and the scene of Shakespeare’s comedy, Twelfth Night, is laid in Illyria. Politically the name was revived in 1809, when the name Illyrian Provinces was given to Carniola, Dalmatia, Istria, Fiume, Görz and Gradisca, and Trieste, with parts of Carinthia and Croatia; these territories were ceded by Austria to Italy at the peace of Schönnbrun (14th Oct. 1809). The Illyrian Provinces were occupied by French troops and governed in the interest of Napoleon; the republic of Ragusa was annexed to them in 1811, but about the end of 1813 the French occupation ceased to be effective and the provinces reverted to Austria. The kingdom of Illyria, which was constituted in 1816 out of the crown-lands of Carinthia, Carniola, Istria, Görz and Gradisca, and Trieste, formed until 1849 a kingdom of the Austrian crown. For the political propaganda known as Illyrism, see Croatia-Slavonia: History.

The name Illyria had by this time faded from history. In literature, it was kept alive, and the setting of Shakespeare’s comedy, Twelfth Night, takes place in Illyria. Politically, the name was revived in 1809 when the Illyrian Provinces were established, covering areas including Carniola, Dalmatia, Istria, Fiume, Görz, Gradisca, and Trieste, along with parts of Carinthia and Croatia. These territories were ceded by Austria to Italy at the peace of Schönnbrun on October 14, 1809. The Illyrian Provinces were occupied by French troops and governed in Napoleon's interests; the republic of Ragusa was annexed to them in 1811. However, by the end of 1813, the French occupation was no longer effective, and the provinces returned to Austria. The kingdom of Illyria was established in 1816 from the crown lands of Carinthia, Carniola, Istria, Görz, Gradisca, and Trieste, and it lasted as a kingdom under the Austrian crown until 1849. For the political propaganda known as Illyrism, see Croatia-Slavonia: History.

Bibliography.—In addition to the authorities quoted above, see G. Zippel, Die römische Herrschaft in Illyrien bis auf Augustus (Leipzig, 1877); P. O. Bahn, Der Ursprung der römischen Provinz Illyrien (Grimma, 1876); J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung, i. (1881), p. 295; E. A. Freeman, “The Illyrian Emperors and their Land” (Historical Essays, series 3, 1879); C. Patsch in Pauly-Wissowa’s Realencyklopädie, iv. pt. 2 (1901); Th. Mommsen, The Provinces of the Roman Empire (ed. F. Haverfield, 1909).

References.—In addition to the sources mentioned above, see G. Zippel, The Roman Rule in Illyria Until Augustus (Leipzig, 1877); P. O. Bahn, The Origin of the Roman Province of Illyria (Grimma, 1876); J. Marquardt, Roman Administration, vol. i (1881), p. 295; E. A. Freeman, “The Illyrian Emperors and Their Land” (Historical Essays, series 3, 1879); C. Patsch in Pauly-Wissowa’s Realencyklopädie, vol. iv, pt. 2 (1901); Th. Mommsen, The Provinces of the Roman Empire (ed. F. Haverfield, 1909).


ILMENAU, a town and summer resort of Germany, in the grand-duchy of Saxe-Weimar, at the north foot of the Thuringian Forest, on the river Ilm, 30 m. by rail south of Erfurt. Pop. (1905) 11,222. The town, which stands picturesquely among wooded hills, is much frequented by visitors in the summer. It was a favourite resort of Goethe, who wrote here his Iphigenie, and often stayed at Gabelbach in the neighbourhood. It has a grand-ducal palace, a Roman Catholic and two Evangelical churches, a sanatorium for nervous disorders, and several educational establishments. Its chief manufactures are glass and porcelain, toys, gloves and chemicals, and the town has tanneries and saw-mills. Formerly a part of the county of Henneberg, Ilmenau came in 1631 into the possession of electoral Saxony, afterwards passing to Saxe-Weimar.

ILMENAU, is a town and summer resort in Germany, located in the grand-duchy of Saxe-Weimar, at the northern foot of the Thuringian Forest, along the river Ilm, 30 miles by rail south of Erfurt. The population was 11,222 in 1905. The town is beautifully set among wooded hills and attracts many visitors during the summer. It was a favorite getaway for Goethe, who wrote his Iphigenie here and often stayed at Gabelbach nearby. Ilmenau features a grand-ducal palace, a Roman Catholic church, two Evangelical churches, a sanatorium for nervous disorders, and several educational institutions. The main industries include glass and porcelain manufacturing, toys, gloves, and chemicals, along with tanneries and sawmills. Once part of the county of Henneberg, Ilmenau became part of electoral Saxony in 1631 and later passed to Saxe-Weimar.

See R. Springer, Die klassischen Stätten von Jena und Ilmenau (Berlin, 1869); Pasig, Goethe und Ilmenau (2nd ed., Weimar, 1902); and Fils, Bad Ilmenau und seine Umgebung (Hildburghausen, 1886).

See R. Springer, The Classical Sites of Jena and Ilmenau (Berlin, 1869); Pasig, Goethe and Ilmenau (2nd ed., Weimar, 1902); and Fils, Bad Ilmenau and Its Surroundings (Hildburghausen, 1886).


ILMENITE, a mineral known also as titanic iron, formerly regarded as an iron and titanium sesquioxide (Fe, Ti)2O3 isomorphous with haematite (Fe2O3), but now generally considered to be an iron titanate FeTiO3 isomorphous with pyrophanite (MnTiO3) and geikielite (MgTiO3). It crystallizes in the parallel-faced hemihedral class of the rhombohedral system, thus having the same degree of symmetry as phenacite and pyrophanite, but differing from that of haematite. The angles between the faces are very nearly the same as between the corresponding faces of haematite; but it is to be noted that the rhombohedral angle (94° 29′) of ilmenite is not intermediate between that of haematite (94° 0′) and of the artificially prepared crystals of titanium sesquioxide (92° 40′), which should be the case if the three substances were isomorphous. Analyses show wide variations in chemical composition, and there is a gradation from normal ilmenite FeTiO3 (with titanium dioxide 52.7, and ferrous oxide 47.3%) to titaniferous haematite and titaniferous magnetite. Frequently also, magnesia and manganous oxide are present in small amounts, the former reaching 16%. The formula (Fe, Mg)TiO3 is then analogous to those of geikielite and pyrophanite. Many analyses show the presence of TiO2 and (Fe, Mg)O in this ratio of 1:1, yet there is often an excess of ferric oxide to be accounted for; this may perhaps be explained by the regular intergrowth on a minute scale of ilmenite with haematite, like the intergrowth of such substances as calcite and sodium nitrate, which are similar crystallographically but not chemically.

ILMENITE, is a mineral also known as titanium iron, once thought to be an iron and titanium sesquioxide (Fe, Ti)2O3 that is isomorphous with hematite (Fe2O3), but is now generally recognized as an iron titanate FeTiO3 that is isomorphous with pyrophanite (MnTiO3) and geikielite (MgTiO3). It crystallizes in the parallel-faced hemihedral class of the rhombohedral system, giving it the same level of symmetry as phenacite and pyrophanite, but different from that of hematite. The angles between the faces are very similar to those between the corresponding faces of hematite; however, it should be noted that the rhombohedral angle (94° 29′) of ilmenite is not in between that of hematite (94° 0′) and the artificially prepared crystals of titanium sesquioxide (92° 40′), which would be expected if all three substances were isomorphous. Analyses show significant variations in chemical composition, with a progression from normal ilmenite FeTiO3 (containing 52.7% titanium dioxide and 47.3% ferrous oxide) to titaniferous hematite and titaniferous magnetite. Additionally, small amounts of magnesia and manganous oxide are often present, with the former reaching up to 16%. The formula (Fe, Mg)TiO3 is similar to those of geikielite and pyrophanite. Many analyses indicate the presence of TiO2 and (Fe, Mg)O in a 1:1 ratio, although there is often an excess of ferric oxide to account for; this might be explained by the regular intergrowth on a microscopic level of ilmenite with hematite, similar to the intergrowth of substances like calcite and sodium nitrate, which share crystallographic similarities but not chemical ones.

In many of its external characters ilmenite is very similar to haematite; the crystals often have the same tabular or lamellar habit; the twin-laws are the same, giving rise to twin-lamellae and planes of parting parallel to the basal plane and the primitive rhombohedron; the colour is iron-black with a submetallic lustre; finally, the conchoidal fracture is the same in both minerals. Ilmenite has a black streak; it is opaque, but in very thin scales sometimes transparent with a clove-brown colour. It is slightly magnetic, but without polarity. The hardness is 5½, and the specific gravity varies with the chemical composition from 4.3 to 5.0.

In many of its external features, ilmenite is very similar to hematite; the crystals often share the same flat or layered shape; the twinning patterns are identical, leading to twin layers and breaking planes that run parallel to the basal plane and the basic rhombohedron; the color is iron-black with a metallic sheen; lastly, the conchoidal fracture is the same in both minerals. Ilmenite has a black streak; it is opaque, but in very thin pieces, it can sometimes be transparent with a clove-brown hue. It is slightly magnetic, but without polarity. The hardness is 5.5, and the specific gravity ranges from 4.3 to 5.0 depending on the chemical composition.

Owing to the wide variations in composition, which even yet are not properly understood, several varieties of the mineral have been distinguished by special names. Crichtonite occurs as small and brilliant crystals of acute rhombohedral habit on quartz at Le Bourg d’Oisans in Dauphiné; it agrees closely in composition with the formula FeTiO3 and has a specific gravity of 4.7. Manaccanite (or Menaccanite) is a black sandy material, first found in 1791 in a stream at Manaccan near Helston in Cornwall. Iserite, from Iserwiese in the Iser Mountains, Bohemia, is a similar sand, but containing some octahedral crystals, possibly of titaniferous magnetite. Washingtonite is found as large tabular crystals at Washington, Connecticut. Uddevallite is from Uddevalla in Sweden. Picrotitanite or picroilmenite (Gr. πικρός, “bitter”) is the name given to varieties containing a considerable amount of magnesia. Other varieties are kibdelophane, hystatite, &c. The name ilmenite, proposed by A. T. Kupffer in 1827, is after the Ilmen Mountains in the southern Urals, whence come the best crystals of the mineral. The largest crystals, sometimes as much as 16 ℔ in weight, are from Kragerö and Arendal in Norway.

Due to the wide variations in composition, which still aren't fully understood, several types of the mineral have been given specific names. Crichtonite appears as small, shiny crystals with an acute rhombohedral shape on quartz at Le Bourg d’Oisans in Dauphiné; it closely matches the composition of the formula FeTiO3 and has a specific gravity of 4.7. Manaccanite (or Menaccanite) is a black sandy material, first discovered in 1791 in a stream at Manaccan near Helston in Cornwall. Iserite, from Iserwiese in the Iser Mountains, Bohemia, is a similar sand but contains some octahedral crystals, possibly made of titaniferous magnetite. Washingtonite appears as large tabular crystals in Washington, Connecticut. Uddevallite comes from Uddevalla in Sweden. Picrotitanite or picroilmenite (Gr. bitter, “bitter”) refers to varieties with a significant amount of magnesia. Other varieties include kibdelophane, hystatite, etc. The name ilmenite, proposed by A. T. Kupffer in 1827, is derived from the Ilmen Mountains in the southern Urals, where the best crystals of the mineral are found. The largest crystals, weighing as much as 16 pounds, come from Kragerö and Arendal in Norway.

Ilmenite occurs, often in association with magnetite, in gneisses and schists, sometimes forming beds of considerable extent, but of little or no economic value. It is a common accessory constituent of igneous rocks of all kinds, more especially basic rocks such as gabbro, diabase and basalt. In these rocks it occurs as platy crystals, and is frequently represented by a white, opaque alteration product known as leucoxene.

Ilmenite is often found alongside magnetite in gneisses and schists, sometimes creating extensive beds that hold little to no economic value. It is a common accessory mineral in all types of igneous rocks, particularly in basic rocks like gabbro, diabase, and basalt. In these rocks, it appears as flat crystals and is often seen as a white, opaque alteration product called leucoxene.

(L. J. S.)

ILOILO, a town, port of entry and the capital of the province of Iloilo, Panay, Philippine Islands, at the mouth of Iloilo river, on the S.E. coast. Pop. (1903) 19,054. In 1903, after the census had been taken, the population of the town was more than doubled by the addition of the municipalities of La Paz (pop. 5724), Mandurriao (pop. 4482), Molo (pop. 8551) and Jaro (pop. 10,681); in 1908 Jaro again became a separate town. The town is built on low sandy ground, is irregularly laid out, 328 and its streets are not paved. It has a good government house and a fine church. The harbour, suitable for ships of 15 ft. draught, is well protected by the island of Guimaras, and ocean-going vessels can lie in the channel. The surrounding country, which is traversed by gravel roads leading to the principal towns of the province, is fertile and well cultivated, producing sugar, tobacco and rice in abundance. In commercial importance Iloilo ranks next to Manila among Philippine cities; it has manufactures of piña, jusi, coconut oil, lime, vinegar and various articles made from palm wood. Much of the town was burned by Filipino insurgents soon after its capture by American troops in February 1899.

ILOILO, is a town, a port of entry, and the capital of the province of Iloilo, Panay, Philippines, located at the mouth of the Iloilo River on the southeastern coast. Population (1903) was 19,054. In 1903, after the census was completed, the town's population more than doubled with the addition of the municipalities of La Paz (pop. 5,724), Mandurriao (pop. 4,482), Molo (pop. 8,551), and Jaro (pop. 10,681); in 1908, Jaro became a separate town again. The town is situated on low sandy land and has an irregular layout, 328 with unpaved streets. It features a good government house and a beautiful church. The harbor, which can accommodate ships with a 15 ft. draft, is well-protected by Guimaras Island, allowing ocean-going vessels to dock in the channel. The surrounding area has gravel roads leading to the main towns of the province and is fertile and well-cultivated, yielding abundant sugar, tobacco, and rice. In terms of commercial significance, Iloilo ranks second to Manila among Philippine cities; it manufactures piña, jusi, coconut oil, lime, vinegar, and various items made from palm wood. Much of the town was destroyed by Filipino insurgents shortly after American troops took control in February 1899.


ILSENBURG, a village and health resort of Germany, in Prussian Saxony, romantically situated under the north foot of the Harz Mountains, at the entrance to the Ilsethal, 6 m. N.W. from Wernigerode by the railway to Goslar. Pop. (1900) 3868. It has an Evangelical church, a modern château of the princes of Stolberg, with pretty grounds, and a high grade school, and manufactures metal wares, machines and iron screws and bolts.

ILSENBURG, is a village and health resort in Germany, located in Prussian Saxony. It's beautifully set at the foot of the Harz Mountains, right at the entryway to the Ilsethal, 6 miles northwest of Wernigerode, accessible by train to Goslar. The population was 3,868 in 1900. The village has an Evangelical church, a modern château owned by the princes of Stolberg along with attractive grounds, and a high-grade school. It produces metal items, machines, and iron screws and bolts.

Owing to its charming surroundings and its central position in the range, Ilsenburg is one of the most frequented tourist resorts in the Harz Mountains, being visited annually by some 6000 persons. The old castle, Schloss Ilsenburg, lying on a high crag above the town, was originally an imperial stronghold and was probably built by the German king Henry I. The emperor Otto III. resided here in 995, Henry II. bestowed it in 1003 upon the bishop of Halberstadt, who converted it into a Benedictine monastery, and the school attached to it enjoyed a great reputation towards the end of the 11th century. After the Reformation the castle passed to the counts of Wernigerode, who restored it and made it their residence until 1710. Higher still, on the edge of the plateau rises the Ilsenstein, a granite peak standing about 500 ft. above the valley, crowned by an iron cross erected by Count Anton von Stolberg-Wernigerode in memory of his friends who fell in the wars of 1813-1815. Around this rock cluster numerous legends.

Due to its beautiful surroundings and central location in the range, Ilsenburg is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the Harz Mountains, attracting around 6000 visitors each year. The old castle, Schloss Ilsenburg, perched on a high crag above the town, was originally an imperial stronghold and was likely built by German King Henry I. Emperor Otto III stayed here in 995, and in 1003, Henry II gave it to the bishop of Halberstadt, who transformed it into a Benedictine monastery. The attached school gained a great reputation by the end of the 11th century. After the Reformation, the castle was taken over by the counts of Wernigerode, who restored it and made it their home until 1710. Even higher, at the edge of the plateau, rises the Ilsenstein, a granite peak about 500 ft. above the valley, topped with an iron cross erected by Count Anton von Stolberg-Wernigerode in memory of his friends who died in the wars of 1813-1815. Many legends surround this rock.

See Jacobs, Urkundenbuch des Klosters Ilsenburg (Halle, 1875); Brandes, Ilsenburg als Sommeraufenthalt (Wernigerode, 1885); and H. Herre, Ilsenburger Annalen (Leipzig, 1890).

See Jacobs, Urkundenbuch des Klosters Ilsenburg (Halle, 1875); Brandes, Ilsenburg als Sommeraufenthalt (Wernigerode, 1885); and H. Herre, Ilsenburger Annalen (Leipzig, 1890).


IMAGE (Lat. imago, perhaps from the same root as imitari, copy, imitate), in general, a copy, representation, exact counterpart of something else. Thus the reflection of a person in a mirror is known as his “image”; in popular usage one person is similarly described as “the very image” of another; so in entomology the term is applied in its Latin form imago to an insect which, having passed through its larval stages, has achieved its full typical development. The term is in fact susceptible of two opposite connotations; on the one hand, it implies that the thing to which it is applied is only a copy; on the other that as a copy it is faithful and accurate.

IMAGE (Lat. imago, possibly from the same root as imitari, copy, imitate), generally refers to a copy, representation, or exact counterpart of something else. For instance, the reflection of a person in a mirror is called their “image”; in everyday language, one person may also be described as “the very image” of another. In entomology, the term is used in its Latin form imago to describe an insect that, after going through its larval stages, has reached its full and typical development. The term can convey two opposing meanings; on one hand, it suggests that the subject is just a copy; on the other hand, it indicates that it is a faithful and accurate representation.

Psychology (q.v.) recognizes two uses of the term. The simplest is for the impression made by an observed object on the retina, the eye; in this connexion the term “after-image” (better “after-sensation”) is used for an image which remains when the eye is withdrawn from a brilliantly lighted object; it is called positive when the colour remains the same, negative when the complementary colours are seen. The strict psychological use of the term “image” is by analogy from the physiological for a purely mental idea which is taken as being observed by the eye of the mind. These images are created or produced not by an external stimulus, such as is necessary for a visual image (even the after-image is due to the continued excitement of the same organ), but by a mental act of reproduction. The simplest ideational image, which has been described as the primary memory-image, is “the peculiarly vivid and definite ideal representation of an object which we can maintain or recall by a suitable effort of attention immediately after perceiving it” (Stout). For this no external stimulus is required, and as compared with the after-image it represents the objects in perspective just as they might be seen in perception. This is characteristic of all mental images. The essential requisite for this primary image is that the attention should have been fixed upon the impressions.

Psychology (q.v.) recognizes two meanings of the term. The simplest one refers to the impression made by an observed object on the retina of the eye; in this context, the term “after-image” (or better “after-sensation”) describes an image that lingers when the eye is taken away from a brightly lit object. It’s called positive when the color remains the same and negative when complementary colors are seen. The strict psychological use of the term “image” is drawn from the physiological meaning, referring to a purely mental idea that is perceived by the "eye" of the mind. These images are created or produced not by an external stimulus, which is needed for a visual image (even the after-image results from the prolonged stimulation of the same organ), but through a mental act of reproduction. The simplest ideational image, described as the primary memory-image, is “the uniquely vivid and clear ideal representation of an object that we can maintain or recall by a suitable effort of attention immediately after perceiving it” (Stout). This doesn’t require any external stimulus, and compared to the after-image, it presents objects in a way that resembles how they would appear during perception. This is true for all mental images. The key requirement for this primary image is that attention must have been focused on the impressions.

The relation between sense-impressions and mental images is a highly complicated one. Difference in intensity is not a wholly satisfactory ground of distinction; abnormal physical conditions apart, an image may have an intensity far greater than that of a sense-given impression. On the other hand, Hume is certainly right in holding that the distinctive character of a percept as compared with an image is in all ordinary cases the force and liveliness with which it strikes the mind—the distinction, therefore, being one of quality, not of degree. A distinction of some importance is found in the “superior steadiness” (Ward) of impressions; while looking at any set of surroundings, images of many different scenes may pass through the mind, each one of which is immediately distinguished from the impression of the actual scene before the eyes. This arises partly, no doubt, from the fact that the perception has clear localization, which the image has not. In many cases indeed an image even of a most familiar scene is exceedingly vague and inaccurate.

The relationship between sensory experiences and mental images is quite complex. Differences in intensity aren't a completely reliable way to tell them apart; aside from unusual physical conditions, an image can be much more intense than a sensory impression. However, Hume is definitely correct in asserting that the main difference between a perception and an image is usually the strength and clarity with which it impacts the mind—so the distinction is about quality, not degree. A notable difference is seen in the "superior steadiness" (Ward) of impressions; while observing any environment, various images of different scenes can pass through the mind, each one easily distinguished from the impression of the actual scene in front of the eyes. This is partly due to the fact that perceptions have clear localization, which images do not possess. In many cases, even an image of a very familiar scene is extremely vague and imprecise.

In Art the term is used for a representation or likeness of an animate or inanimate object, particularly of the figure of a person in sculpture or painting. The most general application of the word is to such a representation when used as an object of religious worship or adoration, or as a decorative or architectural ornament in places of religious worship. The worship of images, or idolatry, from the point of view of comparative religion, is treated in the article Image-Worship, and the history of the attitude of the Christian church, outside the post-Reformation church of England, towards the use of images as objects of worship and religion in the article Iconoclasts. With regard to the Pre-Reformation period in England, it is of interest to note that by the constitutions of Archbishop Winchelsey, 1305, it was the duty of the parish to provide for the parish church, among other objects, the images of Christ on the Cross, of the saint to whom the church was dedicated, to be placed in the chancel, and of other saints. The injunctions of Edward VI., 1547, ordered the destruction of all images that had been the objects of superstitious use, and the act of 1549 (3 & 4 Edw. VI. c. 10) declared all such images illegal. This act, repealed in Mary’s reign, was revived in 1604 (1 James I. c. 25) and is still in force. The present effect of this unrepealed act, as stated in Boyd v. Philpotts (L.R. 6 P.C. 449), is that it only referred to the images then subject to abuse, which had been ordered to be removed, and did not refer to the subsequent use or abuse of other images. In Article XXII. of the Articles of Religion it is laid down that “the Romish Doctrine concerning ... Worshipping and Adoration as well of Images as of Reliques ... is a fond thing mainly invented and grounded on no warranty of Scripture, but rather repugnant to the Word of God.” The law in regard to images, which in this connexion include pictures and stained-glass windows, but not sculptured effigies on monuments or merely ornamental work, is contained in various judicial decisions, and is not defined by statute. The effect of these decisions is thus summarized in the report of the Royal Commission on Ecclesiastical Discipline, 1906: “Such images are lawful as objects of decoration in a church, but are unlawful if they are made, or are in danger of being made, objects of superstitious reverence, contrary to Article XXII. against the worshipping and adoration of images. In accordance with this view, crosses, if not placed on the Holy Table, and also crucifixes, if part only of a sculptured design or architectural decoration, have been declared lawful. The question whether a crucifix or rood standing alone or combined with figures of the Blessed Virgin and St John can, in any circumstances, be regarded as merely decorative, has given rise to a difference of judicial opinion and appears to be unsettled.” Speaking generally, articles of decoration and embellishment not used in the services cannot lawfully be introduced into a church without the consent of the ordinary given by a faculty, the granting of which is subject to the judicial discretion of the chancellor or commissary, sitting as judge of the bishop’s court. 329 By section 8 of the Public Worship Regulation Act 1874, complainants may take proceedings if it is considered that “any alteration in, or addition to, the fabric, ornaments or furniture has been made without legal authority, or that any decoration forbidden by law has been introduced into such church ... provided that no proceedings shall be taken ... if such alteration or addition has been completed five years before the commencement of such proceedings.” The following are the principal cases on the subject: in Boyd v. Philpotts, 1874 (L.R., 4 Ad. & Ec. 297; 6 P.C. 435), the Exeter reredos case, the privy council, reversing the bishop’s judgment, allowed the structure, which contained sculptures in high relief of the Ascension, Transfiguration and Descent of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, together with a cross and angels; in R. v. the Bishop of London, 1889 (23 Q.B.D. 414, 24 Q.B.D. 213), the St Paul’s reredos case, the bishop refused further proceedings against the legality of a structure containing sculptured figures of Christ on the Cross and the Virgin and Child. In Clifton v. Ridsdale, 1876 (1 P. & D., 316), a metal crucifix on the centre of the chancel screen was declared illegal as being in danger of being used superstitiously, and in the same case pictures or rather coloured reliefs representing the “Stations of the Cross” were ordered to be removed on the ground that they had been erected without a faculty, and were also considered unlawful by Lord Penzance as connected with certain superstitious devotion authorized by the Roman church.

In art, the term refers to a representation or likeness of a living or non-living object, especially the figure of a person in sculpture or painting. The most general use of the word pertains to such a representation when it's used as an object of religious worship or veneration or as a decorative or architectural adornment in places of worship. The worship of images, or idolatry, is discussed in the article Image-Worship, while the history of the Christian church's stance, outside of the post-Reformation Church of England, on the use of images as objects of worship and religion is covered in the article Iconoclasts. Regarding the Pre-Reformation period in England, it's noteworthy that according to Archbishop Winchelsey's constitutions from 1305, it was the parish's responsibility to provide certain items for the parish church, including images of Christ on the Cross, the saint the church was dedicated to, placed in the chancel, and images of other saints. Edward VI's injunctions from 1547 mandated the destruction of all images associated with superstitious practices, and the act of 1549 (3 & 4 Edw. VI. c. 10) declared such images illegal. This act, which was repealed during Mary's reign, was reinstated in 1604 (1 James I. c. 25) and remains in effect today. The current impact of this unrepealed act, as stated in Boyd v. Philpotts (L.R. 6 P.C. 449), is that it only pertains to the images that were subject to abuse and were ordered to be removed, without addressing the later use or misuse of other images. Article XXII of the Articles of Religion states that “the Romish Doctrine concerning ... Worshipping and Adoration as well of Images as of Reliques ... is a foolish concept mainly created and based on no scriptural authority, but rather contradicts the Word of God.” The law regarding images, which includes pictures and stained glass windows but not sculpted effigies on monuments or purely decorative work, is based on various court decisions and is not defined by statute. The outcomes of these decisions are summarized in the report of the Royal Commission on Ecclesiastical Discipline, 1906: “Such images are lawful as decorative objects in a church but unlawful if they are created or at risk of becoming objects of superstitious reverence, contrary to Article XXII against the worshipping and adoration of images. Following this interpretation, crosses that are not placed on the Holy Table and crucifixes that are merely part of a sculptural design or architectural decoration have been deemed lawful. The question of whether a crucifix or rood standing alone or combined with figures of the Blessed Virgin and St. John can ever be seen as merely decorative has led to differing judicial opinions and remains unsettled.” Generally, decorative items not used in services cannot be legally introduced into a church without the bishop's consent given by a faculty, which is subject to the judicial discretion of the chancellor or commissary, serving as judge of the bishop’s court. 329 According to section 8 of the Public Worship Regulation Act 1874, complainants may initiate proceedings if an “alteration in, or addition to, the fabric, ornaments or furniture has been made without legal authority, or if any decoration prohibited by law has been added to such church ... provided no proceedings shall be initiated ... if such alteration or addition was completed five years prior to the start of such proceedings.” The principal cases on this topic are as follows: in Boyd v. Philpotts, 1874 (L.R., 4 Ad. & Ec. 297; 6 P.C. 435), the Exeter reredos case, the Privy Council reversed the bishop's judgment, allowing the structure that featured high relief sculptures of the Ascension, Transfiguration, and Descent of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, alongside a cross and angels; in R. v. the Bishop of London, 1889 (23 Q.B.D. 414, 24 Q.B.D. 213), the St. Paul’s reredos case, the bishop dismissed further proceedings against the legality of a structure featuring sculpted figures of Christ on the Cross and the Virgin and Child. In Clifton v. Ridsdale, 1876 (1 P. & D., 316), a metal crucifix at the center of the chancel screen was declared illegal due to the risk of it being used superstitiously, and in the same case, images or rather colored reliefs representing the “Stations of the Cross” were ordered to be removed on the grounds that they were erected without a faculty and were deemed unlawful by Lord Penzance due to their association with certain superstitious devotion sanctioned by the Roman Church.


IMAGE WORSHIP. It is obvious that two religious votaries kneeling together before a statue may entertain widely different conceptions of what the image is and signifies, although their outward attitude is the same. The one may regard it as a mere image, picture or representation of the higher being, void in itself of value or power. It is to him, like the photograph hung on a wall of one we love, cherished as a picture and no more. But the other may regard it, as a little girl regards her doll, as an animated being, no mere picture, but as tenement and vehicle of the god and fraught with divine influence. The former is the attitude which the Latin Church officially inculcates towards sacred pictures and statues; they are intended to convey to the eyes of the faithful, especially to the illiterate among them, the history of Jesus, of the Virgin and of the saints. The other attitude, however, is that into which simple-minded Latin peasants actually lapse, as it is also that which characterizes other religions ancient or modern which use pictures or sculptures of gods, demons, men, brutes, or of particular parts and organs of the same. With the latter attitude alone does the present article deal, and it may conveniently be called idolatry or image worship. For the history of the use of images in Christian worship see Iconoclasts.

Image Worship. It's clear that two religious followers kneeling together before a statue can have very different ideas about what the image represents, even though they're both showing the same outward devotion. One might see it as just an image, a picture, or a representation of a higher being that has no inherent value or power. To this person, it’s like a photograph of a loved one, treasured as an image and nothing more. The other person, however, may view it like a little girl sees her doll, believing it to be a living entity, not just a picture, but a housing and medium for the divine, filled with holy influence. The first perspective is the one officially promoted by the Latin Church regarding sacred images and statues; these are meant to visually communicate the stories of Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and the saints, particularly to the faithful who cannot read. The second perspective, however, is what simple-minded Latin peasants often fall into, and it also characterizes other ancient and modern religions that use images or sculptures of gods, demons, people, animals, or specific parts and organs of these figures. This article will focus solely on the latter perspective, which is commonly referred to as idolatry or image worship. For the history of the use of images in Christian worship, see Iconoclasts.

The image or idol differs from the fetish, charm, talisman, phylactery or miraculous relic, only in this, that either in the flat or the round it resembles the power adored; it has a prototype capable of being brought before the eye and visualized. This is not necessarily the case with the worshipper of aniconic or unshaped gods. The Semite or savage who sets up a sacred stone or Bethel believes indeed that a divine power or influence enters the stone and dwells in it, and he treats the stone as if it were the god, kisses it, anoints it with oil, feeds the god in it by pouring out over it the blood of victims slain. But he is not an idolater, for he has not “made unto himself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above or in the water beneath or in the water under the earth.”

The image or idol is different from a fetish, charm, talisman, phylactery, or miraculous relic only in that it either in a flat or round form resembles the power being worshipped; it has a prototype that can be visually represented. This isn't necessarily true for worshippers of aniconic or formless gods. The Semitic person or tribal individual who sets up a sacred stone or Bethel truly believes that a divine power or influence enters the stone and resides within it, treating the stone as if it were the god—kissing it, anointing it with oil, and feeding the god by pouring the blood of sacrificed animals on it. However, he is not an idolater because he has not “made unto himself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above or in the water beneath or in the water under the earth.”

The question arises: must the stage of aniconic gods historically precede and lead up to that of pictures and images? Are the latter a development of the former? In the history of human religions can we trace, as it were, a law of transition from sacred stock and stone up to picture and image? Is it true to say that the latter is characteristic of a later and higher stage of religious development? It was perhaps the facility with which a pillar of stone or wood can be turned into an image by painting or sculpturing on it eyes, ears, mouth, marks of sex and so on, which led anthropologists of an earlier generation to postulate such a law of development; but facts do not bear it out. In the first place, what we are accustomed to call higher religions deliberately attach greater sanctity to aniconic gods than to iconic ones, and that from no artistic incapacity. The Jews were as well able as their neighbours to fashion golden calves, snakes and the minor idols called teraphim, when their legislator, in the words we have just cited, forbade the ancillary use of all plastic and pictorial art for religious purposes. And of our own Christianity, Robertson Smith remarks as follows: “The host in the Mass is artistically as much inferior to the Venus of Milo as a Semitic Maṣṣēba was, but no one will say that medieval Christianity is a lower form of religion than Aphrodite worship.”

The question arises: must the stage of non-representational gods historically come before and lead to that of pictures and images? Are the latter a development of the former? In the history of human religions, can we identify a trend from sacred stone and wood to pictures and images? Is it accurate to say that the latter represents a later and more advanced stage of religious development? It may have been the ease with which a stone or wooden pillar can be transformed into an image by painting or carving on it eyes, ears, mouth, gender markers, and so on, that led earlier anthropologists to suggest such a developmental law; however, the evidence doesn’t support it. For starters, what we usually call higher religions intentionally assign more sanctity to non-representational gods than to representative ones, and this is not due to any artistic inability. The Jews were just as capable as their neighbors of creating golden calves, snakes, and the lesser idols known as teraphim, when their lawgiver, in the words we've just cited, prohibited any use of plastic and pictorial art for religious purposes. And regarding our own Christianity, Robertson Smith notes: “The host in the Mass is artistically as much inferior to the Venus of Milo as a Semitic Maṣṣēba was, but no one will say that medieval Christianity is a lower form of religion than Aphrodite worship.”

Here then in the most marked manner the aniconic sacrament has ousted pictures and statues. It is the embodiment and home of divine personality and power, and not they. Equally contradictory of any such law of development is the circumstance that the Greeks of the 5th and 4th centuries B.C., although Pheidias and other artists were embodying their gods and goddesses in the most perfect of images, nevertheless continued to cherish the rude aniconic stocks and stones of their ancestors. If any such law ever operated in human religious development, how can we explain the following facts. In the shadowy age which preceded the Stone age and hardly ended later than 10,000 B.C., the cave-dwellers of the Dordogne could draw elks, bisons, elephants and other animals at rest or in movement, with a freshness and realism which to-day only a Landseer can rival. And yet in the European Stone age which followed, the age in which the great menhirs and cromlechs were erected, in which the domestication of animals began and the first corn was sown, we find in the strata no image of man or beast, big or little.

Here, in a significant way, the aniconic sacrament has replaced pictures and statues. It represents and houses divine personality and power, not the images themselves. The fact that the Greeks of the 5th and 4th centuries B.C., despite Pheidias and other artists creating perfect representations of their gods and goddesses, still valued the crude aniconic figures from their ancestors contradicts any theory of development. If such a theory ever applied to human religious development, how do we explain the following facts? During the shadowy time before the Stone Age, which likely ended around 10,000 B.C., the cave dwellers of the Dordogne were able to draw elks, bison, elephants, and other animals in both rest and motion with a freshness and realism that only a Landseer could match today. Yet, in the subsequent European Stone Age, the time when the great menhirs and cromlechs were built, when animals began to be domesticated, and the first crops were sown, we find no images of people or animals, large or small, in the archaeological layers.

Whence this seeming blight and decay of art? Salomon Reinach, guided by the analogy of similar practices among the aborigines of Australia, and noticing that these primitive pictures represent none but animals that formed the staple food of the age and place, and that they are usually found in the deepest and darkest recesses of the caves where they could only be drawn and seen by torchlight, has argued that they were not intended for artistic gratification (a late motive in human art), but were magical representations destined to influence and perhaps attract the hunter’s quarry. In a word this earliest art was ancillary to the chase. It is a common practice in the magic of all ages and countries to acquire control and influence over men and animals by making images of them. The prototype is believed to suffer whatever is done to the image. Reinach, therefore, supposes that in the Stone age which succeeded, pictorial art was banned because it had got into the hands of magicians and had come to be regarded as inevitably uncanny and malefic. This is certainly the secret of the ordinary Mahommedan prohibition of pictures and statues, which goes even to the length of denying to poor little Arab girls the enjoyment of having dolls. It is felt that if you have got a picture of any one, you have some power of harming him through it; you can bind or loose him, just as you can a Djinn whose name you have somehow learned. It is as dangerous for your enemy to have a picture of you as for him to know your name. The old Hebrew prohibition of graven images was surely based on a like superstition, so far as it was not merely due to the physical impossibility for nomads of heavy statues that do not admit of being carried from camp to camp and from pasture to pasture. Possessing no images of Yahweh the Jews were also not exposed to the same risk as were idolaters of having their gods stolen by their foes and used against them. Lastly, the restriction to aniconic worship saved them from much superstition, for there is nothing which so much stimulates the growth of a mythology as the manufacture of idols. The artist must indeed start with imaginative types, revealed to him in visions or borrowed from current myths. But the tendency of his art is to give rise to new tales of the gods. There is perpetual action and reaction between picture and myth; and a legislator desiring to purify and raise his countrymen’s religion must devote no less attention to their plastic art than to their hymnology.

Where does this apparent decline and decay of art come from? Salomon Reinach, drawing on parallels with similar practices among the Indigenous peoples of Australia, points out that these primitive images typically depict only the animals that were a key part of the local diet. He notes that they are usually found in the deepest, darkest parts of caves, where they could only be drawn and seen in the flickering light of a torch. He argues that these images weren't meant for artistic enjoyment (which is a later motive in human art) but were magical representations aimed at influencing or perhaps attracting the hunters' prey. In short, this early art was connected to the hunt. Across different cultures and ages, it's a common practice in magic to gain control over people and animals by creating images of them. The belief is that the prototype suffers whatever happens to the image. Therefore, Reinach suggests that in the Stone Age that followed, pictorial art was banned because it became associated with magicians and was seen as inherently spooky and harmful. This notion certainly explains why ordinary Muslims often prohibit pictures and statues, even going so far as to deny little Arab girls the joy of having dolls. There's a belief that if you have someone's picture, you hold some power to harm them through it; you can bind or free them, just like a Djinn whose name you've learned. It’s just as risky for your enemy to have a picture of you as it is for them to know your name. The ancient Hebrew ban on graven images was likely rooted in a similar superstition, not just due to the practical challenge for nomads to carry heavy statues from one camp to another. By not having images of Yahweh, the Jews also avoided the dangers idol-worshippers faced, like having their gods taken by enemies and used against them. Lastly, the restriction to aniconic worship kept them away from excessive superstition, since nothing fuels the growth of mythology like the creation of idols. An artist must indeed begin with imaginative figures, inspired by visions or borrowed from existing myths. However, the direction of their art often leads to the creation of new stories about the gods. There is an ongoing interaction between images and myths; thus, a lawmaker who wants to purify and elevate the spirituality of their people must pay just as much attention to visual art as to their hymns.

Motives drawn from homoeopathic magic may thus explain the occasional disuse and prohibition of pictorial and plastic 330 art in cult; they may equally explain its genesis and rise in certain ages and countries. Prayer is much more hopeful and efficacious for a worshipper who has means of bringing near to himself, and even coercing the god he worships. An image fashioned like a god, and which has this advantage over a mere stock and stone that it declares itself and reveals at a glance to what god it is sacred, must surely attract and influence the god to choose it as his home and tenement. And having the god thus at hand and imprisoned in matter, the simple-minded worshipper can punish him if his prayers are left unanswered. Dr E. B. Tylor accordingly (in his chapter on “Idolatry” in Primitive Culture, ii. 170), reminds us of “the negro who feeds ancestral images and brings them a share of his trade profits, but will beat an idol or fling it into the fire if it cannot give him luck or preserve him from sickness.” So Augustus Caesar, having lost some ships in a storm, punished Neptune by forbidding his image to be carried in procession at the Circensian games (Sueton. Aug. 16).

Motives from homoeopathic magic can explain why pictorial and three-dimensional art is sometimes ignored or banned in worship; they can also clarify how this art form originated and flourished in certain times and places. Prayer feels much more promising and effective for a worshipper who can bring the deity closer and even exert influence over the god they worship. An image that resembles a god—and which has the advantage over a mere statue that it clearly indicates which god it represents—must surely attract and persuade the god to choose it as his dwelling. With the god present and contained in a physical form, the simple worshipper can punish him if their prayers go unanswered. Dr. E. B. Tylor, in his chapter on “Idolatry” in Primitive Culture, ii. 170, reminds us of “the African who feeds ancestral images and shares his trade profits with them, but will beat an idol or throw it into the fire if it fails to bring him good luck or protect him from illness.” Similarly, Augustus Caesar punished Neptune after losing ships in a storm by banning his image from being paraded during the Circensian games (Sueton. Aug. 16).

In certain cases the wish to carry elsewhere the cult of a favourite or ancestral cult, may have dictated the manufacture of images that declare themselves and reveal at a glance whose they are. Thus a Phoenician colonist might desire to carry abroad the cult of a certain Baal or Astarte who lived in a conical stone or pillar. Pilgrims visiting Paphos, the original home and temple of Astarte, could of course be in no doubt about which of the heavenly powers inhabited the cone of stone in which she was there held to be immanent; nor was any Semite ever ignorant as to which Baal he stood before. It was necessarily the Baal or Lord of the region. But small portrait statues must surely have been made to be carried about or used in private worship. Meanwhile the shapeless cone remained the object of public adoration and pilgrimage.

In some cases, the desire to take the worship of a favorite or ancestral god to another place may have led to the creation of images that clearly indicate whose they are. For example, a Phoenician colonist might want to bring the worship of a specific Baal or Astarte, who was represented by a conical stone or pillar. Pilgrims visiting Paphos, the original site of Astarte’s temple, could easily recognize which of the divine powers was represented by the stone cone where she was believed to be present; similarly, any Semite would know which Baal he was honoring. It would always be the Baal or Lord of that particular region. However, smaller portrait statues must have been created for personal worship or for being carried around. Meanwhile, the shapeless cone continued to be the focus of public worship and pilgrimage.

The Egyptian writer Hermes Trismegistus (c. 250), in a work called Asclepius (cited by Augustine, De civit. Dei, viii. 26), claims that his ancestors discovered the art of making gods, and since they could not create souls, they called up the souls of demons or angels and introduced them into the holy images and divine mysteries, that through these souls the idols might possess powers of doing good and harm. This was the belief of the pagans, and the Christians for centuries shared it with them. Not a few Christian martyrs sought and won the palm by smashing the idols in order to dislodge the indwelling devil; occasionally their zeal was further gratified by beholding it pass away like smoke from its ruined home.

The Egyptian writer Hermes Trismegistus (c. 250), in a work called Asclepius (cited by Augustine, De civit. Dei, viii. 26), claims that his ancestors discovered the art of making gods. Since they couldn't create souls, they summoned the souls of demons or angels and placed them into holy images and divine rituals so that these idols could have the power to do good and harm. This was the belief of pagans, and for centuries, Christians shared this belief with them. Many Christian martyrs sought and earned their crowns by destroying the idols to drive out the demons residing within them; sometimes, their fervor was further rewarded by witnessing the demons flee like smoke from their shattered homes.

Image worship then is a sort of animism. It is a continuance by adults of their childish games with dolls. In the Roman religion, on a feast of thanksgiving for a great victory, couches were spread in the temples for the gods, whose images were taken down from their pedestals and laid on the couches, and tables set before them loaded with delicate viands. This was called a Lectisternium. So Marco Polo (i. chap. 53) relates how the Tatars had each a figure of Natigay, the god of the earth, who watched over their children, cattle and crops. The image was made of felt and cloth, and similar images of his wife and children were set on his left hand and in front of him. “And when they eat, they take the fat of the meat and grease the god’s mouth withal, as well as the mouths of his wife and children.” The old Greek statues moved of themselves, shook their spears, kneeled down, spoke, walked, wept, laughed, winked, and even bled and sweated,—a mighty portent. Images of Christ, of the Virgin and saints have achieved many a similar miraculous portent. A figure of Christ has been known even to give its shoes to a poor man, and a Virgin to drop a ring off her finger to a suppliant. In Umbrian villages on Easter Sunday the images of Jesus and His Mother are carried in rival processions from their respective chapels, and are made to bow when they meet face to face. The spectators applaud or hiss according as they make their bow well or ill. In antiquity it was a common ceremony to arrange a holy marriage between male and female images, and such unions acted on the earth as a fertility charm. Much of a priest’s time was given up to the toilet of the god or goddess. Thus Isis was dressed and coiffed every day by her special attendants according to Apuleius (Met. xi. 9). Like the statue of St Agatha of Catania to-day, her image was loaded with jewels, and an inscription of Cadiz (C.I.L. ii. 3386) contains an inventory of the jewels with which Isis had been endowed by Spanish devotees.

Image worship is like a form of animism. It’s adults continuing their childhood games with dolls. In Roman religion, during a thanksgiving celebration for a significant victory, couches were set up in the temples for the gods. Their images were taken down from pedestals and placed on these couches, with tables set in front of them filled with delicious food. This was called a Lectisternium. Marco Polo (i. chap. 53) recounts how the Tatars had figures of Natigay, the earth god, who watched over their children, livestock, and crops. The image was made of felt and cloth, and similar figures of his wife and children were placed beside him. “When they eat, they take the fat from the meat and smear it on the god’s mouth, as well as on the mouths of his wife and children.” The ancient Greek statues were said to move on their own, shake their spears, kneel, speak, walk, weep, laugh, wink, and even bleed and sweat—quite a phenomenon. Images of Christ, the Virgin, and saints have also been known to perform similar miraculous acts. There have been instances where a statue of Christ gave its shoes to a poor man, and a Virgin dropped a ring off her finger to someone in need. In Umbrian villages on Easter Sunday, the images of Jesus and His Mother are carried in competing processions from their respective chapels and are made to bow to each other when they meet. Spectators either cheer or boo based on how well the bow is performed. In ancient times, it was common to arrange a holy marriage between male and female images, and these unions were believed to bring fertility to the earth. Priests dedicated much of their time to grooming the god or goddess. For example, Isis was dressed and styled every day by her attendants, according to Apuleius (Met. xi. 9). Like the statue of St Agatha of Catania today, her image was adorned with jewels, and an inscription from Cadiz (C.I.L. ii. 3386) lists the jewels that Spanish devotees had gifted to Isis.

Idolatrous cults repose so largely on make-believe and credulity that the priests who administered them, perhaps oftener than we know, fell into the kind of imposture and trickery of which the legend of Bel and the dragon represents a classical example. “Thinkest thou not,” said King Astyages, “that Bel is a living god? Or seest thou not how much he eateth and drinketh every day? Then Daniel laughed, and said, O King, be not deceived: for this is but clay within, and brass without, and did never eat or drink anything.” In the sequel Daniel proves to the king that the priests with their wives and children came in through privy doors and consumed the viands set before the god; and the king, angered at their trickery, slew them all and gave Bel over to Daniel for destruction.

Idolatrous cults rely heavily on fantasy and gullibility, so much so that the priests running them, more often than we realize, fell into the kind of deceit and trickery exemplified by the story of Bel and the dragon. “Don’t you think,” said King Astyages, “that Bel is a real god? Or don’t you see how much he eats and drinks every day?” Then Daniel laughed and said, “O King, don’t be fooled: for this is just clay inside and brass outside, and has never eaten or drunk anything.” Later, Daniel shows the king that the priests, along with their wives and children, came in through secret doors and ate the food placed before the god; enraged by their deception, the king had them all killed and handed Bel over to Daniel for destruction.

The invectives against idolatry of the early Jewish and Christian apologists, of Philo, Minucius Felix, Tertullian, Arnobius, Lactantius and others, are very good reading and throw much light on the question how an ancient pagan conceived of his idols. One capital argument of the Christians was the absurdity of a man making an idol and then being afraid of or adoring the work of his own hands. Lactantius preserves the answer of the pagans so attacked (De origine Erroris, ii. 2): We do not, they said, fear the images themselves, but those beings after whose likeness they were fashioned and by whose names they were consecrated. Few such rites of consecration remain, but they must have been similar to those used in India to-day. There the Brahmin invites the god to dwell within the image, specially made hollow to contain him, “performing the ceremony of adhivāsa or inhabitation, after which he puts in the eyes and the prāna, i.e. breath, life or soul.”1 Similarly Augustine (De civ. Dei, viii. 23) relates how, according to Hermes, the spirits entered by invitation (spiritus invitatos), so that the images became bodies of the gods (corpora deorum). Thus the invisible spirits by a certain art are so joined unto the visible objects of corporeal matter that the latter become as it were animated bodies, images dedicated to those spirits and controlled by them (see Consecration). Such statues were animated with sense and full of spirit, they foresaw the future, and foretold it by lot, through their priests, in dreams and in other ways.

The criticisms of idolatry from early Jewish and Christian defenders, like Philo, Minucius Felix, Tertullian, Arnobius, Lactantius, and others, are quite enlightening and provide insight into how ancient pagans viewed their idols. One major argument from Christians was the ridiculousness of someone crafting an idol and then fearing or worshiping something they created with their own hands. Lactantius shares the pagan response to these criticisms (De origine Erroris, ii. 2): they said, “We don’t fear the images themselves, but the beings they represent and the names by which they were sanctified.” Few of these consecration rituals still exist, but they likely resembled those practiced in India today. There, a Brahmin invites the god to inhabit the hollow image specifically made to hold him, performing the ceremony of adhivāsa or inhabitation, after which he places in the eyes and the prāna, meaning breath, life, or soul. Similarly, Augustine (De civ. Dei, viii. 23) tells how, according to Hermes, spirits entered by invitation (spiritus invitatos), which turned the images into bodies of the gods (corpora deorum). Thus, the invisible spirits are linked to visible physical objects through a certain art, making the latter appear as animated bodies, images dedicated to those spirits and controlled by them (see Consecration). These statues were said to be animated with awareness and full of spirit, capable of foresight and predicting the future through casting lots, through their priests, in dreams, and other methods.

See E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture, ed. 1903 (list of authorities and sources vol., p. 171); L. R. Farnell, The Evolution of Religion (London, 1905); Jacob Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, translation by J. S. Stallybrass.

See E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture, ed. 1903 (list of authorities and sources vol., p. 171); L. R. Farnell, The Evolution of Religion (London, 1905); Jacob Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, translation by J. S. Stallybrass.

(F. C. C.)

1 Tylor, Prim. Culture, ii. 178.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tylor, Primitive Culture, ii. 178.


IMAGINATION, in general, the power or process of producing mental pictures or ideas. The term is technically used in psychology for the process of reviving in the mind percepts of objects formerly given in sense perception. Since this use of the term conflicts with that of ordinary language, some psychologists have preferred to describe this process as “imaging” or “imagery” or to speak of it as “reproductive” as opposed to “productive” or “constructive” imagination (see Image and Psychology). The common use of the term is for the process of forming in the mind new images which have not been previously experienced, or at least only partially or in different combinations. Thus the image of a centaur is the result of combining the common percepts of man and horse: fairy tales and fiction generally are the result of this process of combination. Imagination in this sense, not being limited to the acquisition of exact knowledge by the requirements of practical necessity, is up to a certain point free from objective restraints. In various spheres, however, even imagination is in practice limited: thus a man whose imaginations do violence to the elementary laws of thought, or to the necessary principles of practical possibility, or to the reasonable probabilities of a given case is regarded as insane. The same limitations beset imagination in the field of scientific hypothesis. 331 Progress in scientific research is due largely to provisional explanations which are constructed by imagination, but such hypotheses must be framed in relation to previously ascertained facts and in accordance with the principles of the particular science. In spite, however, of these broad practical considerations, imagination differs fundamentally from belief in that the latter involves “objective control of subjective activity” (Stout). The play of imagination, apart from the obvious limitations (e.g. of avoiding explicit self-contradiction), is conditioned only by the general trend of the mind at a given moment. Belief, on the other hand, is immediately related to practical activity: it is perfectly possible to imagine myself a millionaire, but unless I believe it I do not, therefore, act as such. Belief always endeavours to conform to objective conditions; though it is from one point of view subjective it is also objectively conditioned, whereas imagination as such is specifically free. The dividing line between imagination and belief varies widely in different stages of mental development. Thus a savage who is ill frames an ideal reconstruction of the causes of his illness, and attributes it to the hostile magic of an enemy. In ignorance of pathology he is satisfied with this explanation, and actually believes in it, whereas such a hypothesis in the mind of civilized man would be treated as a pure effort of imagination, or even as a hallucination. It follows that the distinction between imagination and belief depends in practice on knowledge, social environment, training and the like.

IMAGINATION, is generally the ability or process of creating mental images or ideas. In psychology, this term specifically refers to the process of recalling mental images of objects that were once perceived through the senses. Because this usage conflicts with everyday language, some psychologists prefer to call this process “imaging” or “imagery,” or to refer to it as “reproductive” in contrast to “productive” or “constructive” imagination (see Image and Psychology). Commonly, the term describes the process of forming new mental images that haven’t been previously experienced, or have only been partially experienced or seen in different combinations. For example, the image of a centaur comes from combining the familiar images of a man and a horse; fairy tales and fiction are generally the result of this combinatory process. Imagination in this sense isn’t strictly bound by the need for precise knowledge or practical necessity, so it has a certain degree of freedom from objective limits. However, in various areas, even imagination has its constraints: a person whose imaginations completely contradict basic logical principles or necessary possibilities, or who disregards reasonable probabilities, is considered insane. The same limitations apply to imagination in the context of scientific hypotheses. 331 Progress in scientific research largely depends on temporary explanations formed by imagination, but these hypotheses need to be based on previously established facts and align with the principles of that specific science. Despite these practical considerations, imagination is fundamentally different from belief because belief involves “objective control of subjective activity” (Stout). The workings of imagination, beyond the obvious limitations (e.g., avoiding explicit self-contradiction), are influenced only by the general direction of the mind at any given moment. In contrast, belief is directly linked to practical activity: I can easily imagine myself as a millionaire, but unless I believe it, I won’t act like one. Belief always tries to align with objective conditions; while it may seem subjective from one perspective, it is also conditioned by objective realities, whereas imagination is inherently free. The boundary between imagination and belief varies significantly at different stages of mental development. For instance, a primitive person who is ill might create an idealized explanation for their sickness, blaming it on a hostile enemy's magic. Lacking medical knowledge, they accept this explanation and genuinely believe in it, whereas such a hypothesis would be seen by a civilized person as mere imagination or even a hallucination. Thus, the distinction between imagination and belief is inherently tied to knowledge, social context, education, and similar factors.

Although, however, the absence of objective restraint, i.e. a certain unreality, is characteristic of imagination, none the less it has great practical importance as a purely ideational activity. Its very freedom from objective limitation makes it a source of pleasure and pain. A person of vivid imagination suffers acutely from the imagination of perils besetting a friend. In fact in some cases the ideal construction is so “real” that specific physical manifestations occur, as though imagination had passed into belief or the events imagined were actually in progress.

Although the lack of objective restraint, i.e. a certain unreality, is characteristic of imagination, it still holds significant practical importance as a purely mental activity. Its very freedom from objective limits makes it a source of both pleasure and pain. A person with a vivid imagination can suffer intensely from imagining the dangers facing a friend. In some cases, the idealized scenarios can feel so "real" that specific physical reactions occur, as if the imagination has turned into belief or the imagined events are truly happening.


IMĀM, an Arabic word, meaning “leader” or “guide” in the sense of a “pattern whose example is followed, whether for good or bad.” Thus it is applied to the Koran, to a builder’s level and plumb-line, to a road, to a school-boy’s daily task, to a written record. It is used in several of these, senses in the Koran, but specifically several times of leaders and (ii. 118) of Abraham, “Lo, I make thee a pattern for mankind.” Imām thus became the name of the head of the Moslem community, whose leadership and patternhood, as in the case of Mahomet himself, is to be regarded as of the widest description. His duty is to be the lieutenant, the Caliph (q.v.) of the Prophet, to guard the faith and maintain the government of the state. Round the origin and basis of his office all controversies as to the Moslem state centre. The Sunnites hold that it is for men to appoint and that the basis is obedience to the general usage of the Moslem peoples from the earliest times. The necessity for leaders has always been recognized, and a leader has always been appointed. The basis is thus agreement in the technical sense (see Mahommedan Law), not Koran nor tradition from Mahomet nor analogy. The Shī’ites in general hold that the appointment lies with God, through the Prophet or otherwise, and that He always has appointed. The Khārijites theoretically recognize no absolute need of an Imām; he is convenient and allowable. The Motazilites held that reason, not agreement, dictated the appointment. Another distinction between the Sunnites and the Shī’ites is that the Sunnites regard the Imām as liable to err, and to be obeyed even though he personally sins, provided he maintains the ordinances of Islām. Effective leadership is the essential point. But the Shī’ites believe that the divinely appointed Imām is also divinely illumined and preserved (ma‘ṣūm) from sin. The above is called the greater Imāmate. The lesser Imāmate is the leadership in the Friday prayers. This was originally performed by the Imām in the first sense, who not only led in prayers but delivered a sermon (khuṭba); but with the growth of the Moslem empire and the retirement of the caliph from public life, it was necessarily given over to a deputy—part of a gradual process of putting the Imāmate or caliphate into commission. These deputy Imāms are, in Turkey, ministers of the state, each in charge of his own parish; they issue passports, &c., and perform the rites of circumcision, marriage and burial. In Persia among Shī’ites their position is more purely spiritual, and they are independent of the state. A few of their leaders are called Mujtahids, i.e. capable of giving an independent opinion on questions of religion and canon law. A third use of the term Imām is as an honorary title. It is thus applied to leading theologians, e.g. to Abū Ḥanīfa, ash-Shāfi‘ī, Malik ibn Anas, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (these are called “the four Imāms”), Ghazāli.

IMAM, an Arabic term, means “leader” or “guide” in the sense of a “model whose example is followed, whether for good or bad.” It applies to the Koran, a builder’s level and plumb-line, a road, a schoolboy’s daily task, and a written record. The Koran uses it in various ways, specifically referring to leaders and (ii. 118) to Abraham, “Lo, I make thee a model for mankind.” Imām thus became the title of the head of the Muslim community, whose leadership and example, as in the case of Muhammad, is viewed as very broad. His role is to be the deputy, the Caliph (q.v.) of the Prophet, to protect the faith and manage the state. All debates surrounding the origin and foundation of his role focus on the Muslim state. The Sunnis believe that it is up to people to appoint the leader and that the foundation is obedience to the general practices of the Muslim community from earliest times. The need for leaders has always been acknowledged, and a leader has always been chosen. Therefore, the basis is agreement in a technical sense (see Mahommedan Law), rather than the Koran, tradition from Muhammad, or analogy. The Shiites generally believe that the appointment comes from God, through the Prophet or another means, and that He has always appointed one. The Kharijites theoretically do not see an absolute necessity for an Imām; he is seen as convenient and permitted. The Mu'tazilites argued that reason, not agreement, should dictate the appointment. Another distinction between the Sunnis and the Shiites is that the Sunnis believe the Imām can make mistakes and should be obeyed even if he personally sins, as long as he upholds the ordinances of Islam. Effective leadership is the essential aspect. Conversely, the Shiites believe that the divinely appointed Imām is also divinely guided and preserved (ma‘ṣūm) from sin. This is known as the greater Imāmate. The lesser Imāmate refers to the leadership in the Friday prayers. Originally, this was conducted by the Imām in the first sense, who not only led the prayers but also delivered a sermon (khuṭba); however, as the Muslim empire expanded and the caliph withdrew from public life, this responsibility was gradually handed over to a deputy—part of an ongoing process of delegating the Imāmate or caliphate. These deputy Imāms, in Turkey, are state ministers, each overseeing their own community; they issue passports, etc., and perform the rites of circumcision, marriage, and burial. In Persia among Shiites, their role is more spiritual and independent of the state. Some of their leaders are called Mujtahids, i.e. capable of providing independent opinions on religious and canon law issues. A third usage of the term Imām is as an honorary title. It is applied to prominent theologians, e.g. to Abū Ḥanīfa, ash-Shāfi‘ī, Malik ibn Anas, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (these are referred to as “the four Imāms”), and Ghazāli.

See McG. de Slane’s transl. of Ibn Khaldūn’s Prolégomènes, i. 384 seq., 402 seq., 426 seq., 445; iii. 35, 58 seq.; Ostrorog’s transl. of Māwardī’s Ahkām i. 89 seq.; Haarbrücker’s transl. of Shahrastānī by index; Juynboll’s De Mohammedanische Wet, 316 seq.; Sell’s Faith of Islam, 95 seq.; Macdonald’s Development of Muslim Theology, 56 seq.

See McG. de Slane’s translation of Ibn Khaldūn’s Prolégomènes, i. 384 and following, 402 and following, 426 and following, 445; iii. 35, 58 and following; Ostrorog’s translation of Māwardī’s Ahkām i. 89 and following; Haarbrücker’s translation of Shahrastānī by index; Juynboll’s De Muslim Wet, 316 and following; Sell’s Faith of Islam, 95 and following; Macdonald’s Development of Muslim Theology, 56 and following.

(D. B. Ma.)

IMBECILE (through the French from Lat. imbecillus or imbecillis, weak, feeble; of unknown origin), weak or feeble, particularly in mind. The term “imbecility” is used conventionally of a condition of mental degeneration less profound than “idiotcy” (see Insanity).

IMBECILE (derived from French from Lat. imbecillus or imbecillis, weak, feeble; origin unknown), weak or feeble, especially in mind. The term “imbecility” is typically used to describe a state of mental decline that is less severe than “idiocy” (see Insanity).


IMBREX (Latin for “tile”), in architecture the term given to the covering tile of the ancient roof: the plain tile is turned up on each side and the imbrex covers the joint. In the simpler type of roof the imbrex is semicircular, but in some of the Greek temples it has vertical sides and an angular top. In the temple of Apollo at Bassae, where the tiles were in Parian marble, the imbrex on one side of the tile and the tile were worked in one piece out of the solid marble.

IMBREX (Latin for “tile”) refers to the covering tile on ancient roofs in architecture: the flat tile has its edges turned up, and the imbrex covers the seams. In simpler roofs, the imbrex is semicircular, but in some Greek temples, it has straight sides and a pointed top. In the temple of Apollo at Bassae, where the tiles were made of Parian marble, the imbrex on one side of the tile and the tile itself were carved from a single piece of solid marble.


IMBROS, a Turkish island in the Aegean, at the southern end of the Thracian Chersonese peninsula. It forms with Samothrace, about 17 m. distant, a caza (or canton) in the sanjak of Lemnos and province of the Archipelago Isles. Herodotus (v. 26) mentions it as an abode of the historic Pelasgians (q.v.). It was, like Samothrace, a seat of the worship of the Cabeiri (q.v.). The island is now the seat of a Greek bishopric. There is communication with the mainland by occasional vessels. The island is of great fertility—wheat, oats, barley, olives, sesame and valonia being the principal products, in addition to a variety of fruits. Pop. about 92,000, nearly all Turks.

IMBROS, is a Turkish island in the Aegean, at the southern tip of the Thracian Chersonese peninsula. It, along with Samothrace, which is about 17 miles away, forms a caza (or district) in the sanjak of Lemnos and the province of the Archipelago Isles. Herodotus (v. 26) refers to it as a settlement of the ancient Pelasgians (q.v.). Like Samothrace, it was a center for the worship of the Cabeiri (q.v.). Today, the island is home to a Greek bishopric. There are occasional boat services to the mainland. The island is very fertile, with wheat, oats, barley, olives, sesame, and valonia as the main products, along with a variety of fruits. The population is about 92,000, almost all of whom are Turks.


IMERETIA, or Imeritia a district in Russian Transcaucasia, extends from the left bank of the river Tskheniz-Tskhali to the Suram range, which separates it from Georgia on the east, and is bounded on the south by Akhaltsikh, and thus corresponds roughly to the eastern part of the modern government of Kutais. Anciently a part of Colchis, and included in Lazia during the Roman empire, Imeretia was nominally under the dominion of the Greek emperors. In the early part of the 6th century it became the theatre of wars between the Byzantine emperor Justinian and Chosroes, or Khosrau, king of Persia. Between 750 and 985 it was ruled by a dynasty (Apkhaz) of native princes, but was devastated by hostile incursions, reviving only after it became united to Georgia. It flourished until the reign of Queen Thamar, but after her death (1212) the country became impoverished through strife and internal dissensions. It was reunited with Georgia from 1318 to 1346, and again in 1424. But the union only lasted forty-five years; from 1469 until 1810 it was governed by a Bagratid dynasty, closely akin to that which ruled over Georgia. In 1621 it made the earliest appeal to Russia for aid; in 1650 it acknowledged Russian suzerainty and in 1769 a Russian force expelled the Turks. In 1803 the monarch declared himself a vassal of Russia, and in 1810 the little kingdom was definitively annexed to that empire. (See Georgia.)

IMERETIA, or Imeritia, a region in Russian Transcaucasia, stretches from the left bank of the Tskheniz-Tskhali River to the Suram Range, which separates it from Georgia to the east. It is bordered to the south by Akhaltsikh and roughly aligns with the eastern part of the modern Kutais government. Historically part of Colchis and included in Lazia during the Roman Empire, Imeretia was nominally under the control of the Greek emperors. In the early 6th century, it became the battleground for conflicts between the Byzantine Emperor Justinian and Chosroes, or Khosrau, the king of Persia. From 750 to 985, it was ruled by the Apkhaz dynasty of local princes, but was devastated by foreign invasions, only reviving after it united with Georgia. It thrived until the reign of Queen Thamar, but after her death in 1212, the region became impoverished due to conflicts and internal struggles. It was reunited with Georgia from 1318 to 1346, and again in 1424. However, this union lasted only 45 years; from 1469 to 1810, it was governed by a Bagratid dynasty closely related to the one ruling over Georgia. In 1621, it made its first appeal to Russia for assistance; by 1650, it recognized Russian suzerainty, and in 1769 a Russian force drove out the Turks. In 1803, the monarch declared himself a vassal of Russia, and in 1810, the small kingdom was definitively annexed to that empire. (See Georgia.)


IMIDAZOLES, or Glyoxalines, organic chemical compounds containing the ring system Imidazole itself was first prepared by H. Debus (Ann. 1858, 107, p. 254) by the action of ammonia on glyoxal, 2C2H2O2 + 2NH3 = C3H4N2 + H2CO2 + 2H2O. The compounds of this series may be prepared by the condensation of ortho-diketones with ammonia and aldehydes

IMIDAZOLES, or Glyoxalines, are organic chemical compounds that include the ring system Imidazole was first created by H. Debus (Ann. 1858, 107, p. 254) through the reaction of ammonia with glyoxal, 2C2H2O2 + 2NH3 = C3H4N2 + H2CO2 + 2H2O. Compounds in this series can be made by condensing ortho-diketones with ammonia and aldehydes.

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from thioimidazolones by oxidation with dilute nitric acid (W. Marckwald, Ber., 1892, 25, p. 2361); by distillation of hydrobenzamide and similarly constituted bodies; and by the action of phosphorus pentachloride on symmetrical dimethyloxamide, a methylchlorglyoxaline being formed (O. Wallach, Ann., 1877, 184, p. 500).

from thioimidazolones by oxidation with weak nitric acid (W. Marckwald, Ber., 1892, 25, p. 2361); by distillation of hydrobenzamide and similar compounds; and by the reaction of phosphorus pentachloride on symmetrical dimethyloxamide, resulting in the formation of a methylchlorglyoxaline (O. Wallach, Ann., 1877, 184, p. 500).

The glyoxalines are basic in character, and the imide hydrogen is replaceable by metals and alkyl groups. They are stable towards reducing agents, and acidyl groups are only introduced with difficulty.

The glyoxalines have a basic nature, and the imide hydrogen can be replaced by metals and alkyl groups. They are stable when exposed to reducing agents, and it's challenging to introduce acidyl groups.

Imidazole (glyoxaline), C3H4N2, crystallizes in thick prisms which melt at 88-89° C. and boil at 253° C., and are readily soluble in alcohol and in water. It is unaffected by chromic acid, but potassium permanganate oxidizes it to formic acid. It forms salts with acids.

Imidazole (glyoxaline), C3H4N2, crystallizes in thick prisms that melt at 88-89° C and boil at 253° C, and it dissolves easily in alcohol and water. It doesn't react with chromic acid, but potassium permanganate oxidizes it to form formic acid. It can form salts with acids.

Lophine (triphenylglyoxaline), is formed by the dry distillation of hydrobenzamide, or by saturating an alcoholic solution of benzil and benzaldehyde (at a temperature of 40° C.) with ammonia. It crystallizes in needles which melt at 275° C. It is a weak base. When heated to 300° C. with hydriodic acid and hydrochloric acid, in the presence of some red phosphorus, it yields benzoic acid.

Lophine (triphenylglyoxaline), is produced by the dry distillation of hydrobenzamide or by saturating an alcoholic solution of benzil and benzaldehyde (at a temperature of 40° C.) with ammonia. It crystallizes in needle-like structures that melt at 275° C. It is a weak base. When heated to 300° C. with hydriodic acid and hydrochloric acid, along with some red phosphorus, it produces benzoic acid.

The keto-glyoxalines are known as imidazolones and are prepared by the action of acids on acetalyl thioureas (W. Marckwald, Ber., 1892, 25, p. 2357). Benzimidazole, is the simplest representative of the benzoglyoxalines and is prepared by the condensation of formic acid with ortho-phenylene diamine. It forms rhombic crystals which melt at 170° C. It is basic in character, and on oxidation with potassium permanganate yields a small amount of glyoxaline dicarboxylic acid, (E. Bamberger, Ann., 1893, 273, p. 338).

The keto-glyoxalines, known as imidazolones, are created by the reaction of acids with acetalyl thioureas (W. Marckwald, Ber., 1892, 25, p. 2357). Benzimidazole, is the simplest example of the benzoglyoxalines, produced by condensing formic acid with ortho-phenylenediamine. It forms rhombic crystals that melt at 170° C. It has a basic character, and when oxidized with potassium permanganate, it produces a small amount of glyoxaline dicarboxylic acid, (E. Bamberger, Ann., 1893, 273, p. 338).


IMITATION (Lat. imitatio, from imitari, to imitate), the reproduction or repetition of an action or thought as observed in another person or in oneself, or the construction of one object in the likeness of another. By some writers (e.g. Preyer and Lloyd Morgan) the term “imitation” is limited to cases in which one person copies the action or thought of another; others have preferred a wider use of the term (i.e. including “self-imitation”), and have attempted to classify imitative action into various groupings, e.g. as cases of “conscious imitation,” “imitative suggestion,” “plastic imitation” (as when the members of a crowd subconsciously reproduce one another’s modes of thought and action), and the like. The main distinction is that which takes into account the question of attention (q.v.). In conscious imitation, the attention is fixed on the act and its reproduction: in unconscious imitation the reproduction is entirely mechanical and the agent does not “attend” to the action or thought which he is copying: in subconscious imitation the action is not deliberate, though the necessary train of thought would immediately follow if the attention were turned upon it under normal conditions. Imitation plays an extremely important part in human and animal development, and a clear understanding of its character is important both for the study of primitive peoples, and also in the theories of education, art and sociology. The child’s early development is in large measure imitative: thus the first articulate sounds and the first movements are mainly reproductions of the words and actions of parents, and even in the later stages that teacher is likely to achieve the best results who himself gives examples of how a word should be pronounced or an action done. The impulse to imitate is, however, not confined to children: there is among the majority of adults a tendency to assimilate themselves either to their society or to those whom they especially admire or respect: this tendency to shun the eccentric is rooted deeply in human psychology. Moreover, even among highly developed persons the imitative impulse frequently overrides the reason, as when an audience, a crowd, or even practically a whole community is carried away by a panic for which no adequate ground has been given, or when a cough or a yawn is imitated by a company of people. Such cases may be compared with those of persons in mesmeric trances who mechanically copy a series of movements made by the mesmerist. The universality of the imitative impulse has led many psychologists to regard it as an instinct (so William James, Principles of Psychology, ii. 408; cf. Instinct), and in that large class of imitative actions which have no obvious ulterior purpose the impulse certainly appears to be instinctive in character. On the other hand where the imitator recognizes the particular effect of a process and imitates with the deliberate intention of producing the same effect, his action can scarcely be classed as instinctive. A considerable number of psychologists have distinguished imitative from instinctive actions (e.g. Baldwin, and Sully). According to Darwin the imitative impulse begins in infants at the age of four months. It is to be noted, however, that the child imitates, not every action indiscriminately, but especially those towards which it has a congenital tendency. The same is true of animals: though different kinds of animals may live in close proximity, the young of each kind imitate primarily the actions of their own parents.

IMITATION (Lat. imitatio, from imitari, to imitate), is the reproduction or repetition of an action or thought as seen in another person or oneself, or creating one object in the likeness of another. Some writers (e.g. Preyer and Lloyd Morgan) limit the term “imitation” to situations where one person copies the actions or thoughts of another; others prefer a broader definition (i.e. including “self-imitation”) and have tried to categorize imitative actions into various types, such as “conscious imitation,” “imitative suggestion,” “plastic imitation” (like when the members of a crowd unconsciously mimic each other’s ways of thinking and acting), and more. The key distinction considers the question of attention (q.v.). In conscious imitation, attention is focused on the act and its reproduction; in unconscious imitation, the replication is purely mechanical, and the person does not “attend” to the action or thought they're copying; in subconscious imitation, the action is not intentional, though the necessary thought process would follow immediately if attention turned to it under normal circumstances. Imitation plays a crucial role in the development of both humans and animals, and understanding its nature is essential for the study of primitive cultures, as well as in education, art, and sociology. A child's early development is largely imitative: the first sounds and movements are mainly reproductions of their parents' words and actions, and even in later stages, the most effective teacher is often the one who demonstrates how a word should be pronounced or how an action should be performed. However, the urge to imitate isn't limited to children; most adults also tend to align themselves with their society or with those they particularly admire or respect. This tendency to avoid being different is deeply rooted in human psychology. Furthermore, even highly developed individuals often allow the imitative impulse to override reason, as seen when an audience, a crowd, or even a whole community gets swept up in a panic without any solid reason, or when a group of people mimics a cough or a yawn. Such instances can be compared to people in hypnotic trances who mechanically imitate a series of movements made by the hypnotist. The widespread nature of the imitative impulse has led many psychologists to view it as an instinct (as noted by William James, Principles of Psychology, ii. 408; cf. Instinct), and among the various imitative actions that don't have an obvious ulterior motive, the impulse does appear to be instinctual. On the other hand, when an imitator understands the specific outcome of an action and imitates with the clear intention of producing the same effect, that action can hardly be classified as instinctive. Many psychologists have drawn a line between imitative actions and instinctive actions (e.g. Baldwin and Sully). According to Darwin, the imitative impulse starts in infants around four months old. It’s important to note, however, that children don’t imitate every action indiscriminately; they mainly imitate those actions they have a natural tendency toward. The same applies to animals: even if different species live closely together, the young of each kind primarily imitate their own parents' actions.

Among primitive man imitation plays a very important part. The savage believes that he can bring about events by imitating them. He makes, for instance, an image of his enemy and pierces it with darts or burns it, believing that by so doing he will cause his enemy’s death: similarly sailors would whistle, or farmers would pour water on the ground, in the hope of producing wind or rain. This form of imitation is known as sympathetic magic (see Magic). The sociological importance of imitation is elaborately investigated by Gabriel Tarde (Les Lois de l’imitation, 2nd ed., 1895), who bases all social evolution on the imitative impulse. He distinguishes “custom imitations,” i.e. imitations of ancient or even forgotten actions, and “mode imitations,” i.e. imitations of current fashions. New discoveries are, in his scheme, the product of the conflict of imitations. This theory, though of great value, seems to neglect original natural similarities which, by the law of causation, produce similar consequences, where imitation is geographically or chronologically impossible.

Among primitive humans, imitation plays a crucial role. Early people believed they could influence events by mimicking them. For example, they would create an image of their enemy and stab it with darts or set it on fire, convinced that this would lead to their enemy's death. Similarly, sailors might whistle or farmers might pour water on the ground, hoping to create wind or rain. This type of imitation is known as sympathetic magic (see Magic). The sociological significance of imitation is thoroughly explored by Gabriel Tarde (Les Lois de l’imitation, 2nd ed., 1895), who argues that all social progress stems from the imitative impulse. He differentiates between "custom imitations," which are copies of ancient or even forgotten actions, and "mode imitations," which are adaptations of current trends. In his view, new discoveries arise from the clash of imitations. While this theory is quite valuable, it seems to overlook original natural similarities that, according to the law of causation, lead to similar outcomes even when imitation isn’t possible due to geographical or chronological reasons.

The term “imitation” has also the following special uses:—

The term “imitation” also has these specific uses:—

1. In Art-theory.—According to Plato all artistic production is a form of imitation (μίμησις). That which really exists is the idea or type created by God; of this type all concrete objects are representations, while the painter, the tragedian, the musician are merely imitators, thrice removed from the truth (Rep. x. 596 seq.). Such persons are represented by Plato as a menace to the moral fibre of the community (Rep. iii.), as performing no useful function, drawing men away from reality and pandering to the irrational side of the soul. All art should aim at moral improvement. Plato clearly intends by “imitation” more than is connotated by the modern word: though in general he associates with it all that is bad and second-rate, he in some passages admits the value of the imitation of that which is good, and thus assigns to it a certain symbolic significance. Aristotle, likewise regarding art as imitation, emphasizes its purely artistic value as purging the emotions (κάθαρσις), and producing beautiful things as such (see Aesthetics and Fine Arts).

1. In Art-theory.—According to Plato, all artistic creation is a form of imitation (mimesis). What truly exists is the idea or type created by God; all concrete objects are representations of this type, while painters, playwrights, and musicians are just imitators, three times removed from the truth (Rep. x. 596 seq.). Plato presents these individuals as a threat to the community's moral integrity (Rep. iii.), claiming they perform no useful function, distract people from reality, and cater to the irrational aspects of the soul. All art should aim for moral betterment. When Plato talks about "imitation," he means more than what the modern word suggests: while he generally associates it with the bad and mediocre, he occasionally acknowledges the value of imitating what is good, thus giving it a certain symbolic importance. Similarly, Aristotle, who also sees art as imitation, focuses on its artistic value in purging emotions (catharsis) and creating beauty in itself (see Aesthetics and Fine Arts).

2. In Biology, the term is sometimes applied to the assimilation by one species of certain external characteristics (especially colour) which enable them to escape the notice of other species which would otherwise prey upon them. It is a form of protective resemblance and is generally known as mimicry (q.v.; see also Colours of Animals).

2. In Biology, the term is sometimes used to describe how one species adopts certain external traits (especially color) that help them avoid being noticed by other species that would otherwise hunt them. It's a kind of protective resemblance and is commonly referred to as mimicry (q.v.; see also Colours of Animals).

3. In Music, the term “imitation” is applied in contrapuntal composition to the repetition of a passage in one or more of the other voices or parts of a composition. When the repetition is note for note with all the intervals the same, the imitation is called “strict” and becomes a canon (q.v.); if not it is called “free,” the latter being much the more common. There are many varieties of imitation, known as imitation “by inversion,” “by inversion and reversion,” “by augmentation,” “by diminution” (see Grove’s Dictionary of Music, s. v., and textbooks of musical theory).

3. In Music, the term “imitation” refers to the repetition of a musical phrase in one or more of the other voices or parts of a composition. When the repetition matches note for note with all the intervals unchanged, it’s called “strict” and becomes a canon (q.v.); if it varies, it’s called “free,” which is much more common. There are many types of imitation, known as imitation “by inversion,” “by inversion and reversion,” “by augmentation,” and “by diminution” (see Grove’s Dictionary of Music, s. v., and textbooks on musical theory).

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IMITATION OF CHRIST, THE (Imitatio Christi), the title of a famous medieval Christian devotional work, much used still by both Catholics and Protestants and usually ascribed to Thomas à Kempis. The “Contestation” over the author of the Imitation of Christ is probably the most considerable and famous controversy that has ever been carried on concerning a purely literary question. It has been going on almost without flagging for three centuries, and nearly 200 combatants have entered the lists. In the present article nothing is said on the history of the controversy, but an attempt is made to summarize the results that may be looked on as definitely acquired.

IMITATION OF CHRIST, THE (Imitatio Christi), the title of a well-known medieval Christian devotional book, is still widely used by both Catholics and Protestants, and is usually attributed to Thomas à Kempis. The debate over who actually wrote the Imitation of Christ is likely the most significant and well-known dispute ever held about a purely literary issue. This discussion has been ongoing for almost three centuries, with nearly 200 participants involved. In this article, the focus is not on the history of the debate, but rather an attempt is made to summarize the conclusions that can be regarded as definitively established.

Until quite recently there were three candidates in the field—Thomas à Kempis (1380-1471), a canon regular of Mount St Agnes in Zwolle, in the diocese of Utrecht, of the Windesheim Congregation of Augustinian Canons; John Gerson (1363-1429), chancellor of the University of Paris; and an abbot, John Gersen, said to have been abbot of a Benedictine monastery at Vercelli in the 12th century. Towards the end of the 15th century the Imitation circulated under the names of the first two; but Gerson is an impossible author, and his claims have never found defenders except in France, where they are no longer urged. The Benedictine abbot Gersen is an absolutely mythical personage, a mere “double” of the chancellor. Consequently at the present day the question is narrowed to the issue: Thomas à Kempis, or an unknown author.

Until quite recently, there were three candidates in the field—Thomas à Kempis (1380-1471), a canon regular of Mount St Agnes in Zwolle, in the diocese of Utrecht, part of the Windesheim Congregation of Augustinian Canons; John Gerson (1363-1429), chancellor of the University of Paris; and an abbot, John Gersen, who is said to have been the abbot of a Benedictine monastery in Vercelli in the 12th century. Towards the end of the 15th century, the Imitation was circulated under the names of the first two; however, Gerson is an unlikely author, and his claims have never had supporters except in France, where they are no longer promoted. The Benedictine abbot Gersen is completely mythical, merely a "double" of the chancellor. As a result, the current question is narrowed down to: Thomas à Kempis, or an unknown author.

The following is a statement of the facts that may be received as certain:—

The following is a statement of the facts that can be considered reliable:—

1. The earliest-known dated MS. of the Imitation is of 1424—it contains only Bk. I.; the earliest MSS. of the whole work of certain date are of 1427. Probably some of the undated MSS. are older; but it is the verdict of the most competent modern expert opinion that there is no palaeographical reason for suspecting that any known MS. is earlier than the first quarter of the 15th century.

1. The earliest known dated manuscript of the Imitation is from 1424—it contains just Book I. The earliest manuscripts of the entire work with a specific date are from 1427. It's likely that some of the undated manuscripts are older, but the consensus among the most qualified modern experts is that there’s no paleographical reason to believe that any known manuscript is older than the first quarter of the 15th century.

2. A Latin letter of a Dutch canon regular, named Johann van Schoonhoven, exhibits such a close connexion with Bk. I. that plagiarism on the one side or the other is the only possible explanation. It is capable of demonstration that the author of the Imitation was the borrower, and that the opposite hypothesis is inadmissible. Now, this letter can be shown to have been written after 1382. Therefore Bk. I. was beyond controversy written between the years 1382 and 1424.

2. A Latin letter from a Dutch canon regular named Johann van Schoonhoven shows such a close connection with Bk. I. that plagiarism on either side is the only likely explanation. It's clear that the author of the Imitation was the one who borrowed, making the opposite idea impossible. This letter can be dated after 1382, which means Bk. I. was definitely written between 1382 and 1424.

3. It is not here assumed that the four treatises formed a single work, or even that they are all by the same author; and the date of the other three books cannot be fixed with the same certainty. But, on the one hand, before the beginning of the 15th century there is no trace whatever of their existence—a strong argument that they did not yet exist; and on the other hand, after 1424 nearly each year produces its quota of MSS. and other signs of the existence of these books become frequent. Moreover, as a matter of fact, the four treatises did commonly circulate together. The presumption is strong that Bks. II., III., IV., like Bk. I., were composed shortly before they were put into circulation.

3. It's not assumed here that the four treatises make up a single work or that they’re all by the same author; the dates of the other three books can’t be determined with the same certainty. However, on one hand, there’s no evidence of their existence before the beginning of the 15th century, which strongly suggests they didn’t exist yet; on the other hand, after 1424, nearly every year shows a variety of manuscripts and other signs indicating these books started to appear frequently. Additionally, the four treatises generally circulated together. It’s likely that Books II, III, and IV, like Book I, were written shortly before they were released.

It may then be taken as proved that the Imitation was composed between 1380 and 1425, and probably towards the end rather than the beginning of that period. Having ascertained the date, we must consider the birthplace.

It can be established that the Imitation was created between 1380 and 1425, likely closer to the end of that timeframe rather than the beginning. Now that we have determined the date, we need to consider the place of origin.

4. A number of idioms and turns of expression throughout the book show that its author belonged to some branch of the Teutonic race. Further than this the argument does not lead; for when the dialects of the early 15th century are considered it cannot be said that the expressions in question are Netherlandic rather than German—as a matter of fact, they have all been paralleled out of High German dialects.

4. Several idioms and expressions throughout the book indicate that the author was part of some branch of the Teutonic race. Beyond that, the argument doesn't go; because when you look at the dialects of the early 15th century, you can't really say that the expressions in question are more Dutch than German—actually, they've all been matched with High German dialects.

5. Of the 400 MSS. of the Imitation 340 come from the Teutonic countries—another argument in favour of its Teutonic origin. Again, 100 of them, including the earliest, come from the Netherlands. This number is quite disproportionate to the relative size of the Netherlands, and so points to Holland as the country in which the Imitation was first most widely circulated and presumably composed.

5. Out of the 400 manuscripts of the Imitation, 340 are from German-speaking countries—another point supporting its German origin. Additionally, 100 of these, including the earliest ones, are from the Netherlands. This number is significantly larger compared to the relatively small size of the Netherlands, suggesting that Holland is where the Imitation was first widely distributed and likely composed.

6. There is a considerable body of early evidence, traceable before 1450, that the author was a canon regular.

6. There's a lot of early evidence, dating back before 1450, that shows the author was a regular canon.

7. Several of the MSS. were written in houses belonging to the Windesheim Congregation of canons regular, or, in close touch with it. Moreover there is a specially intimate literary and spiritual relationship between the Imitation and writings that emanated from what has been called the “Windesheim Circle.”

7. Several of the manuscripts were written in houses associated with the Windesheim Congregation of canons regular, or were closely connected to it. Additionally, there is a particularly close literary and spiritual relationship between the Imitation and the writings that came from what is known as the “Windesheim Circle.”

To sum up: the indirect evidence points clearly to the conclusion that the Imitation was written by a Teutonic canon regular, probably a Dutch canon regular of the Windesheim Congregation, in the first quarter of the 15th century. These data are satisfied by Thomas à Kempis.

To sum up: the indirect evidence clearly suggests that the Imitation was written by a Teutonic canon regular, likely a Dutch canon regular from the Windesheim Congregation, in the early 15th century. This information aligns with Thomas à Kempis.

We pass to the direct evidence, neglecting that of witnesses who had no special sources of information.

We move on to the direct evidence, ignoring that from witnesses who didn't have any special sources of information.

8. There can be no question that in the Windesheim Congregation itself there was already, during Thomas à Kempis’s lifetime, a fixed tradition that he was the author of the Imitation. The most important witness to this tradition is Johann Busch. It is true that the crucial words are missing in one copy of his “Chronicle”; but it is clear there were two redactions of the work, and there are no grounds whatever for doubting that the second with its various enlargements came from the hands of Busch himself—a copy of it containing the passage exists written in 1464, while both Busch and Thomas à Kempis were still alive. Busch passed a great part of his life in Windesheim, only a few miles from Mount St Agnes where Thomas lived. It would be hard to find a more authentic witness. Another witness is Hermann Rhyd, a German member of the Windesheim Congregation, who also had personally known Thomas. Besides, two or three MSS. originating in the Windesheim Congregation state or imply the same tradition.

8. There’s no doubt that within the Windesheim Congregation, even during Thomas à Kempis’s lifetime, there was a strong belief that he was the author of the Imitation. The most important evidence for this belief comes from Johann Busch. While it’s true that key words are missing in one version of his "Chronicle," it’s evident that there were two versions of the work, and there’s no reason to doubt that the second version, with its various additions, was created by Busch himself—a copy of it that includes the passage was written in 1464, when both Busch and Thomas à Kempis were still alive. Busch spent a significant part of his life in Windesheim, just a few miles from Mount St Agnes, where Thomas lived. It would be difficult to find a more credible source. Another witness is Hermann Rhyd, a German member of the Windesheim Congregation, who also personally knew Thomas. In addition, two or three manuscripts from the Windesheim Congregation state or suggest the same belief.

9. More than this: the tradition existed in Thomas à Kempis’s own monastery shortly after his death. For John Mauburne became a canon in Mount St Agnes within a few years of Thomas’s death, and he states more than once that Thomas wrote the Imitation.

9. More than that: the tradition was present in Thomas à Kempis’s own monastery shortly after he passed away. John Mauburne became a canon in Mount St Agnes just a few years after Thomas’s death, and he mentions more than once that Thomas wrote the Imitation.

10. The earliest biographer of Thomas à Kempis was an anonymous contemporary: the Life was printed in 1494, but it exists in a MS. of 1488. The biographer says he got his information from the brethren at Mount St Agnes, and he states in passing that Bk. III. was written by Thomas. Moreover, he appends a list of Thomas’s writings, 38 in number, and 5-8 are the four books of the Imitation.

10. The first biographer of Thomas à Kempis was an unknown contemporary: the Life was published in 1494, but it exists in a manuscript from 1488. The biographer mentions that he obtained his information from the brothers at Mount St Agnes, and he notes that Book III was written by Thomas. Additionally, he includes a list of Thomas’s works, totaling 38, with 5-8 being the four books of the Imitation.

It is needless to point out that such a list must be of vastly greater authority than those given by St Jerome or Gennadius in their De Viris Illustribus, and its rejection must, in consistency, involve methods of criticism that would work havoc in the history of early literature of what king soever. The domestic tradition in the Windesheim Congregation, and in Mount St Agnes itself, has a weight that cannot be legitimately avoided or evaded. Indeed the external authority for Thomas’s authorship is stronger than that for the authorship of most really anonymous books—such, that is, as neither themselves claim to be by a given author, nor have been claimed by any one as his own. A large proportion of ancient writings, both ecclesiastical and secular, are unquestioningly assigned to writers on far less evidence than that for Thomas’s authorship of the Imitation.

It goes without saying that such a list must hold much greater authority than those provided by St. Jerome or Gennadius in their De Viris Illustribus, and rejecting it must consistently involve methods of criticism that would disrupt the history of early literature of any kind. The local tradition in the Windesheim Congregation, and in Mount St. Agnes itself, carries a weight that cannot be legitimately ignored or brushed aside. In fact, the external evidence for Thomas’s authorship is stronger than that for the authorship of most truly anonymous books—meaning those that neither claim to be by a specific author nor have been claimed by anyone as their own. A significant number of ancient writings, both ecclesiastical and secular, are assigned to writers without question on far less evidence than that for Thomas’s authorship of the Imitation.

Internal arguments have been urged against Thomas’s authorship. It has been said that his certainly authentic writings are so inferior that the Imitation could not have been written by the same author. But only if they were of the most certain and peremptory nature could such internal arguments be allowed to weigh against the clear array of facts that make up the external argument in favour of à Kempis. And it cannot be said that the internal difficulties are such as this. Let it be granted that Thomas was a prolific writer and that his writings vary very much in quality; let it be granted also that the Imitation surpasses all the rest, and that some are on a level very far below it; still, when at their best, some of the other works are not unworthy of the author of the Imitation.

Internal arguments have been made against Thomas’s authorship. It's been claimed that his definitely authentic writings are so inferior that the Imitation couldn't have been written by the same author. But these internal arguments would only hold weight against the strong external evidence supporting à Kempis if they were rigorously definitive. This isn't the case here. Let's acknowledge that Thomas was a prolific writer and that the quality of his work varies greatly; let's also acknowledge that the Imitation stands out above all the rest, with some works being far below it. However, at their best, some of the other writings are still worthy of the author of the Imitation.

In conclusion, it is the belief of the present writer that 334 the “Contestation” is over, and that Thomas à Kempis’s claims to the authorship of the Imitation have been solidly established.

In conclusion, the author believes that 334 the "Contestation" is finished, and that Thomas à Kempis's claims to the authorship of the Imitation have been firmly established.

The best account in English of the Controversy is that given by F. R. Cruise in his Thomas à Kempis (1887). Works produced before 1880 are in general, with the exception of those of Eusebius Amort, superannuated, and deal in large measure with points no longer of any living interest. A pamphlet by Cruise, Who was the Author of the Imitation? (1898) contains sufficient information on the subject for all ordinary needs; it has been translated into French and German, and may be regarded as the standard handbook.

The best account in English of the controversy is provided by F. R. Cruise in his Thomas à Kempis (1887). Works published before 1880 are generally outdated, except for those by Eusebius Amort, and mainly address points that aren’t really relevant today. A pamphlet by Cruise, Who was the Author of the Imitation? (1898), contains enough information on the topic for most common needs; it has been translated into French and German and can be considered the standard handbook.

It has been said that the Imitation of Christ has had a wider religious influence than any book except the Bible, and if the statement be limited to Christendom, it is probably true. The Imitation has been translated into over fifty languages, and is said to have run through more than 6000 editions. The other statement, often made, that it sums up all that is best of earlier Western mysticism—that in it “was gathered and concentered all that was elevating, passionate, profoundly pious in all the older mystics” (Milman) is an exaggeration that is but partially true, for it depreciates unduly the elder mystics and fails to do justice to the originality of the Imitation. For its spiritual teaching is something quite different from the mysticism of Augustine in the Confessions, or of Bernard in the Sermons on the Song of Songs; it is different from the scholastic mysticism of the St Victors or Bonaventure; above all, it is different from the obscure mysticism, saturated with the pseudo-Dionysian Neoplatonism of the German school of Eckhart, Suso, Tauler and Ruysbroek. Again, it is quite different from the later school of St Teresa and St John of the Cross, and from the introspective methods of what may be called the modern school of spirituality. The Imitation stands apart, unique, as the principal and most representative utterance of a special phase of religious thought—non-scholastic, non-platonic, positive and merely religious in its scope—herein reflecting faithfully the spirit of the movement initiated by Gerhard Groot (q.v.), and carried forward by the circles in which Thomas à Kempis lived. In contrast with more mystical writings it is of limpid clearness, every sentence being easily understandable by all whose spiritual sense is in any degree awakened. No doubt it owes its universal power to this simplicity, to its freedom from intellectualism and its direct appeal to the religious sense and to the extraordinary religious genius of its author. Professor Harnack in his book What is Christianity? counts the Imitation as one of the chief spiritual forces in Catholicism: it “kindles independent religious life, and a fire which burns with a flame of its own” (p. 266).

It’s been said that the Imitation of Christ has had a greater religious impact than any book except the Bible, and if this claim is restricted to Christianity, it’s likely true. The Imitation has been translated into over fifty languages and is reported to have gone through more than 6000 editions. Another often-made claim is that it captures the best of earlier Western mysticism—“gathering and focusing all that was uplifting, passionate, and deeply pious from all the older mystics” (Milman). However, this is an exaggeration that only reflects part of the truth, as it downplays the previous mystics and fails to acknowledge the originality of the Imitation. Its spiritual teachings are quite different from the mysticism of Augustine in the Confessions, or of Bernard in the Sermons on the Song of Songs; it also differs from the scholastic mysticism of the St Victors or Bonaventure. Most importantly, it stands apart from the obscure mysticism soaked in pseudo-Dionysian Neoplatonism of the German school exemplified by Eckhart, Suso, Tauler, and Ruysbroek. Furthermore, it is distinct from the later traditions of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross, as well as from the introspective approaches of what might be termed the modern spirituality school. The Imitation is unique, serving as the primary and most representative expression of a specific phase of religious thought—non-scholastic, non-platonic, straightforward, and simply religious in its scope—faithfully reflecting the spirit of the movement started by Gerhard Groot (q.v.), and developed within the circles where Thomas à Kempis lived. In contrast to more mystical writings, it is remarkably clear, with every sentence being easily understood by anyone whose spiritual sense is even slightly awakened. Its universal appeal surely stems from this clarity, its lack of intellectualism, its direct connection to the religious experience, and the exceptional religious insight of its author. Professor Harnack, in his book What is Christianity?, considers the Imitation one of the major spiritual forces in Catholicism: it “ignites independent religious life and a flame that burns with its own light” (p. 266).

The best Latin edition of the Imitation is that of Hirsche (1874), which follows closely the autograph of 1441 and reproduces the rhythmical character of the book. Of English translations the most interesting is that by John Wesley, under the title The Christian’s Pattern (1735).

The best Latin edition of the Imitation is Hirsche's (1874), which closely follows the original from 1441 and captures the book's rhythm. Among English translations, the most notable is the one by John Wesley, titled The Christian’s Pattern (1735).

(E. C. B.)

IMMACULATE CONCEPTION, THE. This dogma of the Roman Catholic Church was defined, as “of faith” by Pope Pius IX. on the 8th of December 1854 in the following terms: “The doctrine which holds that the Blessed Virgin Mary, from the first instant of her conception, was, by a most singular grace and privilege of Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the human race, preserved from all stain of Original Sin, is a doctrine revealed, by God, and therefore to be firmly and steadfastly believed by all the faithful.”1 These words presuppose the distinction between original, or racial, and actual, or personally incurred sin. There is no dispute that the Church has always held the Blessed Virgin to be sinless, in the sense of actual or personal sin. The question of the Immaculate Conception regards original or racial sin only. It is admitted that the doctrine as defined by Pius IX. was not explicitly mooted before the 12th century. But it is claimed that it is implicitly contained in the teaching of the Fathers. Their expressions on the subject of the sinlessness of Mary are, it is pointed out, so ample and so absolute that they must be taken to include original sin as well as actual. Thus we have in the first five centuries such epithets applied to her as “in every respect holy,” “in all things unstained,” “super-innocent” and “singularly holy”; she is compared to Eve before the fall, as ancestress of a redeemed people; she is “the earth before it was accursed.”2 The well-known words of St Augustine (d. 430) may be cited: “As regards the mother of God,” he says, “I will not allow any question whatever of sin.”3 It is true that he is here speaking directly of actual or personal sin. But his argument is that all men are sinners; that they are so through original depravity; that this original depravity may be overcome by the grace of God, and he adds that he does not know but that Mary may have had sufficient grace to overcome sin “of every sort” (omni ex parte).

IMMACULATE CONCEPTION, THE. This doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church was defined as “of faith” by Pope Pius IX on December 8, 1854, in these terms: “The doctrine that states that the Blessed Virgin Mary, from the very moment of her conception, was, by a unique grace and privilege of Almighty God, considering the merits of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of humanity, kept free from all stain of Original Sin, is a doctrine revealed by God and therefore must be firmly and steadfastly believed by all the faithful.”1 These words imply the distinction between original, or inherited, sin and actual, or personally committed, sin. There is no argument that the Church has always recognized the Blessed Virgin as sinless in terms of actual or personal sin. The question of the Immaculate Conception pertains only to original or inherited sin. It is acknowledged that the doctrine as defined by Pius IX was not explicitly discussed before the 12th century. However, it is claimed to be implicitly contained in the teachings of the Church Fathers. Their statements regarding Mary’s sinlessness are noted to be so comprehensive and absolute that they must include original sin alongside actual sin. Thus, in the first five centuries, we see descriptions of her like “in every respect holy,” “in all things unstained,” “super-innocent,” and “specially holy”; she is compared to Eve before the fall, as the ancestress of a redeemed people; she is described as “the earth before it was cursed.”2 The well-known words of St. Augustine (d. 430) can be referenced: “Regarding the mother of God,” he says, “I will not entertain any question of sin.”3 It is true he is speaking directly about actual or personal sin. His point is that all humans are sinners due to original depravity; that this original depravity can be overcome by God’s grace, and he adds that he cannot say that Mary might not have received enough grace to overcome “any kind” of sin (omni ex parte).

It seems to have been St Bernard who, in the 12th century, explicitly raised the question of the Immaculate Conception. A feast of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin had already begun to be celebrated in some churches of the West. St Bernard blames the canons of the metropolitan church of Lyons for instituting such a festival without the permission of the Holy See. In doing so, he takes occasion to repudiate altogether the view that the Conception of Mary was sinless. It is doubtful, however, whether he was using the term “Conception” in the same sense in which it is used in the definition of Pius IX. In speaking of conception one of three things may be meant: (1) the mother’s co-operation; (2) the formation of the body, or (3) the completion of the human being by the infusion of the rational or spiritual soul. In early times conception was very commonly used in the first sense—“active” conception as it was called. But it is in the second, or rather the third, sense that the word is employed in modern usage, and in the definition of Pope Pius IX. But St Bernard would seem to have been speaking of conception in the first sense, for in his argument he says, “How can there be absence of sin where there is concupiscence (libido)?” and stronger expressions follow, showing that he is speaking of the mother and not of the child.4

It appears that St. Bernard was the one who, in the 12th century, explicitly raised the issue of the Immaculate Conception. A celebration for the Conception of the Blessed Virgin had already begun in some Western churches. St. Bernard criticizes the canons of the metropolitan church of Lyons for establishing such a feast without the Holy See's approval. In doing this, he entirely rejects the idea that Mary’s conception was sinless. However, it's unclear if he used the term “Conception” in the same way it is understood in the definition by Pius IX. When referring to conception, three aspects might be considered: (1) the mother's role; (2) the formation of the body; or (3) the completion of a human being by the addition of the rational or spiritual soul. Historically, the term conception was often used in the first sense—referred to as “active” conception. But in modern usage and in Pope Pius IX's definition, it's more often used in the second or third sense. Yet, St. Bernard seems to be discussing conception in the first sense, as in his argument he states, “How can there be the absence of sin where there is desire (libido)?” and follows with stronger statements indicating he is referring to the mother rather than the child.4

St Thomas Aquinas, the greatest of the medieval scholastics, refused to admit the Immaculate Conception, on the ground that, unless the Blessed Virgin had at one time or other been one of the sinful, she could not justly be said to have been redeemed by Christ.5 St Bonaventura (d. 1274), second only to St Thomas in his influence on the Christian schools of his age, hesitated to accept it for a similar reason.6 The celebrated John Duns Scotus (d. 1308), a Franciscan like St Bonaventura, argued, on the contrary, that from a rational point of view it was certainly as little derogatory to the merits of Christ to assert that Mary was by him preserved from all taint of sin, as to say that she first contracted it and then was delivered.7 His arguments, combined with a better acquaintance with the language of the early Fathers, gradually prevailed in the schools of the Western Church. In 1387 the university of Paris strongly condemned the opposite view. In 1483 Pope Sixtus IV., who had already (1476) emphatically approved of the feast of the Conception, condemned those who ventured to assert that the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception was heretical, and forbade either side to claim a decisive victory until further action on the part of the Holy See. The council of Trent, after declaring that in its decrees on the subject of original sin it did not include “the blessed and immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God,” renewed this prohibition.8 Pope Paul V. (d. 1651) ordered that no one, under severe penalties, should dare to assent in public “acts” or disputations that the Blessed Virgin was conceived in original sin. Pope Gregory XV., shortly afterwards, extended this prohibition to private discussions, allowing, however, the Dominicans to argue on the subjects among themselves. Clement XI., in 1708, extended the feast of the Conception to the whole Church as a holy day of obligation. Long before the middle of the 19th century the doctrine was universally taught in the Roman Catholic Church. During the reign of Gregory XVI. the bishops in various countries began to press for a definition. Pius IX., at the beginning of his pontificate, and again after 1851, appointed commissions to investigate the whole subject, and he was advised that the doctrine was one 335 which could be defined and that the time for a definition was opportune. On the 8th of December 1854 in a great assembly of bishops, in the basilica of St Peter’s at Rome, he promulgated the Bull Ineffabilis Deus, in which the history of the doctrine is summarily traced, and which contains the definition as given above.

St. Thomas Aquinas, the most prominent of the medieval scholastics, rejected the idea of the Immaculate Conception because he believed that unless the Blessed Virgin had at some point been among the sinful, she couldn't truly be said to have been redeemed by Christ.5 St. Bonaventura (d. 1274), who was second only to St. Thomas in his influence on the Christian schools of his time, was hesitant to accept it for a similar reason.6 The famous John Duns Scotus (d. 1308), a Franciscan like St. Bonaventura, argued instead that from a logical standpoint, it was just as valid to say that Mary was preserved from all sin by Christ, as it was to claim that she first sinned and then was redeemed.7 His arguments, along with a better understanding of the early Fathers' writings, gradually gained traction in the Western Church's schools. In 1387, the University of Paris strongly condemned the opposing view. In 1483, Pope Sixtus IV, who had already emphasized the observance of the feast of the Conception in 1476, condemned anyone who claimed the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception was heretical, and forbade either side from claiming a definitive victory until the Holy See took further action. The Council of Trent, after stating that when addressing original sin it did not include “the blessed and immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God,” reaffirmed this prohibition.8 Pope Paul V (d. 1651) commanded that no one, under severe penalties, should publicly agree in “acts” or disputes that the Blessed Virgin was conceived in original sin. Shortly after, Pope Gregory XV expanded this prohibition to private discussions, although he allowed the Dominicans to debate the topics among themselves. Clement XI, in 1708, made the feast of the Conception a holy day of obligation for the entire Church. By the mid-19th century, the doctrine was taught universally in the Roman Catholic Church. During Gregory XVI's reign, bishops in various countries began advocating for a formal definition. Pius IX, at the beginning of his papacy, and again after 1851, appointed commissions to look into the matter, and he was advised that the doctrine could be defined and that the time was right for such a declaration. On December 8, 1854, in a large assembly of bishops at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, he issued the Bull Ineffabilis Deus, which briefly outlines the history of the doctrine and contains the definition as stated above.

The festival of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin, as distinct from her Nativity, was certainly celebrated in the Greek Church in the 7th century, as we learn from one of the canons of St Andrew of Crete (or of Jerusalem) who died about A.D. 700.9 There is some evidence that it was kept in Spain in the time of St Ildefonsus of Toledo (d. 667) and in southern Italy before A.D. 1000. In England it was known in the 12th century; a council of the province of Canterbury, in 1328, ascribes its introduction to St Anselm. It spread to France and Germany in the same century. It was extended to the whole church, as stated above, in 1708. It is kept, in the Western Church, on the 8th of December; the Greeks have always kept it one day later.

The festival of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin, different from her Nativity, was definitely celebrated in the Greek Church in the 7th century, as we know from one of the canons of St. Andrew of Crete (or Jerusalem), who passed away around CE 700.9 There is some evidence that it was observed in Spain during the time of St. Ildefonsus of Toledo (d. 667) and in southern Italy before CE 1000. In England, it was recognized in the 12th century; a council in the province of Canterbury in 1328 attributes its introduction to St. Anselm. It spread to France and Germany in the same century. As mentioned above, it was extended to the entire church in 1708. The Western Church celebrates it on December 8th; the Greeks have always observed it one day later.

The chief répertoire of Patristic passages, both on the doctrine and on the festival, is Father Charles Passaglia’s great collection, entitled De immaculato Deiparae semper Virginis conceptu Caroli Passaglia sac. S.J. commentarius (3 vols., Romae, 1854-1855).

The main collection of Church Fathers' writings, regarding both doctrine and the feast, is Father Charles Passaglia’s extensive compilation, titled De immaculato Deiparae semper Virginis conceptu Caroli Passaglia sac. S.J. commentarius (3 vols., Rome, 1854-1855).

A useful statement of the doctrine with numerous references to the Fathers and scholastics is found in Hürter’s Theologia Dogmatica (5th ed.), tom. i. tract. vii. cap. 6, p. 438.

A helpful explanation of the doctrine, with many references to the Church Fathers and scholastics, can be found in Hürter’s Theologia Dogmatica (5th ed.), vol. i, tract. vii, chap. 6, p. 438.

The state of Catholic belief in the middle of the 19th century is well brought out in La Croyance générale el constante de l’Église touchant l’immaculée conception de la bienheureuse Vierge Marie, published in 1855 by Thomas M. J. Gousset (1792-1866), professor of moral theology at the grand seminary of Besançon, and successively archbishop of Besançon and cardinal archbishop of Reims.

The state of Catholic belief in the middle of the 19th century is clearly presented in La Croyance générale el constante de l’Église touchant l’immaculée conception de la bienheureuse Vierge Marie, published in 1855 by Thomas M. J. Gousset (1792-1866), who was a professor of moral theology at the grand seminary of Besançon and later served as archbishop of Besançon and cardinal archbishop of Reims.

For English readers the doctrine, and the history of its definition, is clearly stated by Archbishop Ullathorne in The Immaculate Conception of the Mother of God (2nd ed., London, 1904). Dr F. G. Lee, in The Sinless Conception of the Mother of God; a Theological Essay (London, 1891) argued that the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception is a legitimate development of early church teaching.

For English readers, the doctrine and the history of its definition are clearly explained by Archbishop Ullathorne in The Immaculate Conception of the Mother of God (2nd ed., London, 1904). Dr. F. G. Lee, in The Sinless Conception of the Mother of God: a Theological Essay (London, 1891), argued that the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception is a valid development of early church teaching.

(†J. C. H.)

1 From the Bull Ineffabilis Deus.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From the Papal Bull Ineffabilis Deus.

2 See Passaglia’s work, referred to below.

2 Check out Passaglia’s work mentioned below.

3 De natura et gratia, cap. xxxvi.

3 On Nature and Grace, chapter 36.

4 S. Bernardi Epist. clxxiv. 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ S. Bernardi Letter 174. 7.

5 Summa theologia, part iii., quaest. 27, art. 3.

5 Summa Theologia, part iii., ques. 27, art. 3.

6 In librum III. sententiarum distinct. 3 quaest. i. art. 2.

6 In Book III. of the Distinctions of Sentences. 3 question i. article 2.

7 In librum III. sententiarum dist. 3 quaest. i. n. 4; Cfr. Distinct. 18 n. 15. Also the Summa theologia of Scotus (compiled by a disciple), part iii., quaest. 27, art. 2.

7 In Book III. of Sentences, Distinction 3 Question i. n. 4; See Distinction 18 n. 15. Also the Summa Theologia of Scotus (compiled by a disciple), part iii., question 27, article 2.

8 Sess. v. De peccato originale.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sess. v. Original Sin.

9 P. G., tom. cxvii. p. 1305.

9 P. G., vol. 117, p. 1305.


IMMANENCE (from Lat. in-manere to dwell in, remain), in philosophy and theology a term applied in contradistinction to “transcendence,” to the fact or condition of being entirely within something. Its most important use is for the theological conception of God as existing in and throughout the created world, as opposed, for example, to Deism (q.v.), which conceives Him as separate from and above the universe. This conception has been expressed in a great variety of forms (see Theism, Pantheism). It should be observed that the immanence doctrine need not preclude the belief in the transcendence of God: thus God may be regarded as above the world (transcendent) and at the same time as present in and pervading it (immanent). The immanence doctrine has arisen from two main causes, the one metaphysical, the other religious. Metaphysical speculation on the relation of matter and mind has naturally led to a conviction of an underlying unity of all existence, and so to a metaphysical identification of God and the universe: when this identification proceeds to the length of expressing the universe as merely a mode or form of deity the result is pantheism (cf. the Eleatics): when it regards the deity as simply the sum of the forces of nature (cf. John Toland) the result is naturalism. In either case, but especially in the former, it frequently becomes pure mysticism (q.v.). Religious thinkers are faced by the problem of the Creator and the created, and the necessity for formulating a close relationship between God and man, the Infinite and Perfect with the finite and imperfect. The conception of God as wholly external to man, a purely mechanical theory of the creation, is throughout Christendom regarded as false to the teaching of the New Testament as also to Christian experience. The contrary view has gained ground in some quarters (cf. the so-called “New Theology” of Rev. R. J. Campbell) so far as to postulate a divine element in human beings, so definitely bridging over the gap between finite and infinite which was to some extent admitted by the bulk of early Christian teachers. In support of such a view are adduced not only the metaphysical difficulty of postulating any relationship between the infinite and the purely finite, but also the ethical problems of the nature of human goodness—i.e. how a merely human being could appreciate the nature of or display divine goodness—and the epistemological problem of explaining how finite mind can cognize the infinite. The development of the immanence theory of God has coincided with the deeper recognition of the essentially spiritual nature of deity as contrasted with the older semi-pagan conception found very largely in the Old Testament of God as primarily a mighty ruler, obedience to whom is comparable with that of a subject to an absolute monarch: the idea of the dignity of man in virtue of his immediate relation with God may be traced in great measure to the humanist movement of the 14th and 15th centuries (cf. the Inner Light doctrine of Johann Tauler). In later times the conception of conscience as an inward monitor is symptomatic of the same movement of thought. In pure metaphysics the term “immanence-philosophy” is given to a doctrine held largely by German philosophers (Rehmke, Leclair, Schuppe and others) according to which all reality is reduced to elements immanent in consciousness. This doctrine is derived from Berkeley and Hume on the one hand and from Kantianism on the other, and embodies the principle that nothing can exist for the mind save itself. The natural consequence of this theory is that the individual consciousness alone exists (solipsism): this position is, however, open to the obvious criticism that in some cases individual consciousnesses agree in their content. Schuppe, therefore, postulates a general consciousness (Bewusstsein überhaupt).

IMMANENCE (from Lat. in-manere to dwell in, remain), in philosophy and theology a term used in contrast to “transcendence,” refers to the fact or condition of being completely within something. Its most significant application is the theological view of God as existing in and throughout the created world, as opposed to Deism (q.v.), which sees Him as separate from and above the universe. This idea has been expressed in many different ways (see Theism, Pantheism). It's important to note that the doctrine of immanence doesn't have to rule out the belief in God’s transcendence: God can be viewed as above the world (transcendent) while also being present in and encompassing it (immanent). The doctrine of immanence has emerged from two main factors, one metaphysical and the other religious. Metaphysical ideas regarding the relationship between matter and mind have naturally led to a belief in an underlying unity of all existence, subsequently leading to the metaphysical identification of God and the universe: when this identification goes so far as to express the universe as merely a mode or form of deity, the outcome is pantheism (cf. the Eleatics); when it sees deity as simply the totality of the forces of nature (cf. John Toland), the outcome is naturalism. In both cases, but especially in the former, it often leads to pure mysticism (q.v.). Religious thinkers face the dilemma of the Creator and the created and the need to establish a close relationship between God and humans, the Infinite and Perfect with the finite and imperfect. The idea of God as entirely external to humanity, suggesting a purely mechanical model of creation, is widely deemed inconsistent with the teachings of the New Testament and Christian experience across Christendom. The opposing view has gained traction in some circles (cf. the so-called “New Theology” of Rev. R. J. Campbell), proposing a divine element within human beings, thus directly bridging the gap between the finite and infinite acknowledged by many early Christian thinkers. Support for such a view comes from the metaphysical challenges of establishing any connection between the infinite and the purely finite, as well as the ethical questions around human goodness—i.e. how a purely human being could understand or demonstrate divine goodness—and the epistemological challenge of explaining how limited human minds can comprehend the infinite. The evolution of the immanence theory of God has paralleled a deeper understanding of the fundamentally spiritual nature of deity, contrasting with the earlier semi-pagan views prevalent in the Old Testament of God primarily as a mighty ruler, whose authority is likened to that of a subject to an absolute monarch: the concept of human dignity based on a direct relationship with God can largely be traced back to the humanist movement of the 14th and 15th centuries (cf. the Inner Light doctrine of Johann Tauler). In later periods, the notion of conscience as an internal guide reflects the same shift in thought. In pure metaphysics, the phrase “immanence-philosophy” describes a belief primarily held by German philosophers (Rehmke, Leclair, Schuppe, and others) which maintains that all reality is reduced to elements inherent in consciousness. This belief draws from both Berkeley and Hume on one side and Kantianism on the other, embodying the principle that nothing can exist for the mind except itself. The logical outcome of this theory is that only individual consciousness exists (solipsism); however, this position is subject to the obvious criticism that in some instances, individual consciousnesses align in their content. To address this, Schuppe proposes a general consciousness (Bewusstsein überhaupt).


IMMANUEL BEN SOLOMON (c. 1265-c. 1330), Hebrew poet, was born in Rome. He was a contemporary and friend of Dante, and his verse shows the influence of the “divine poet.” Immanuel’s early studies included science, mathematics and philosophy; and his commentaries on Proverbs, Psalms, Job and other Biblical books are good examples of the current symbolical methods which Dante so supremely used. Immanuel’s fame chiefly rests on his poems, especially the collection (in the manner of Harizi, q.v.) entitled Mehabberoth, a series of 27 good-natured satires on Jewish life. Religious and secular topics are indiscriminately interwoven, and severe pietists were offended by Immanuel’s erotic style. Most popular is an additional section numbered 28 (often printed by itself) called Hell and Paradise (ha-Tophet veha-Eden). The poet is conducted by a certain Daniel (doubtfully identified with Dante) through the realms of torture and bliss, and Immanuel’s pictures and comments are at once vivid and witty.

IMMANUEL BEN SOLOMON (c. 1265-c. 1330), a Hebrew poet, was born in Rome. He was a contemporary and friend of Dante, and his poetry reflects the influence of the “divine poet.” Immanuel’s early studies included science, mathematics, and philosophy; his commentaries on Proverbs, Psalms, Job, and other Biblical texts are great examples of the symbolic methods that Dante masterfully utilized. Immanuel’s reputation primarily comes from his poems, notably the collection (in the style of Harizi, q.v.) called Mehabberoth, which is a series of 27 lighthearted satires on Jewish life. Religious and secular themes are intertwined, and strict pietists were often offended by Immanuel’s erotic style. The most popular piece is an additional section numbered 28 (often printed separately) called Hell and Paradise (ha-Tophet veha-Eden). In this work, the poet is guided by a character named Daniel (possibly identified with Dante) through realms of torment and joy, with Immanuel’s descriptions and commentary being both vivid and witty.

See J. Chotzner, Hebrew Humour (Lond., 1905), pp. 82-102.

See J. Chotzner, Hebrew Humour (London, 1905), pp. 82-102.

(I. A.)

IMMERMANN, KARL LEBERECHT (1796-1840), German dramatist and novelist, was born on the 24th of April 1796 at Magdeburg, the son of a government official. In 1813 he went to study law at Halle, where he remained, after the suppression of the university by Napoleon in the same year, until King Frederick William’s “Summons to my people” on March 17th. He responded with alacrity, but was prevented by illness from taking part in the earlier campaign; he fought, however, in 1815 at Ligny and Waterloo, and marched into Paris with Blücher. At the conclusion of the war he resumed his studies at Halle, and after being Referendar in Magdeburg, was appointed in 1819 Assessor at Münster in Westphalia. Here he made the acquaintance of Elise von Lützow, Countess von Ahlefeldt, wife of the leader of the famous “free corps” (see Lützow). This lady first inspired his pen, and their relationship is reflected in several dramas written about this time. In 1823 Immermann was appointed judge at Magdeburg, and in 1827 was transferred to Düsseldorf as Landgerichtsrat or district judge. Thither the countess, whose marriage had in the meantime been dissolved, followed him, and, though refusing his hand, shared his home until his marriage in 1839 with a grand-daughter of August Hermann Niemeyer (1754-1828), chancellor and rector perpetuus of Halle university. In 1834 Immermann undertook the management of the Düsseldorf theatre, and, although his resources were small, succeeded for two years in raising it to a high level of excellence. The theatre, however, was insufficiently endowed to allow of him carrying on the work, and 336 in 1836 he returned to his official duties and literary pursuits. He died at Düsseldorf on the 25th of August 1840.

IMMERMANN, KARL LEBERECHT (1796-1840), German dramatist and novelist, was born on April 24, 1796, in Magdeburg, the son of a government official. In 1813, he went to study law at Halle, where he stayed until the university was closed by Napoleon that same year, following King Frederick William's "Summons to my people" on March 17. He eagerly responded but was unable to join the earlier campaign due to illness; however, he fought in 1815 at Ligny and Waterloo and marched into Paris with Blücher. After the war, he resumed his studies at Halle, and after serving as a trainee lawyer in Magdeburg, he was appointed as assessor in Münster, Westphalia, in 1819. There, he met Elise von Lützow, Countess von Ahlefeldt, wife of the leader of the famous "free corps" (see Lützow). She inspired him to write, and their relationship is reflected in several dramas from that time. In 1823, Immermann became a judge in Magdeburg, and in 1827, he was moved to Düsseldorf as a district judge. The countess, whose marriage had since ended, followed him there and, despite not accepting his proposal, shared his home until he married in 1839 to a granddaughter of August Hermann Niemeyer (1754-1828), chancellor and perpetual rector of Halle University. In 1834, Immermann took charge of the Düsseldorf theatre, and although his resources were limited, he managed to elevate it to a high standard for two years. However, the theatre lacked sufficient funding for him to continue the effort, and 336 in 1836 he returned to his official duties and literary work. He died in Düsseldorf on August 25, 1840.

Immermann had considerable aptitude for the drama, but it was long before he found a congenial field for his talents. His early plays are imitations, partly of Kotzebue’s, partly of the Romantic dramas of Tieck and Müllner, and are now forgotten. In 1826, however, appeared Cardenio und Celinde, a love tragedy of more promise; this, as well as the earlier productions, awakened the ill-will of Platen, who made Immermann the subject of his wittiest satire, Der romantische Oedipus. Between 1827 and 1832 Immermann redeemed his good name by a series of historical tragedies, Das Trauerspiel in Tirol (1827), Kaiser Friedrich II. (1828) and a trilogy from Russian history, Alexis (1832). His masterpiece is the poetic mystery, Merlin (1831), a noble poem, which, like its model, Faust, deals with the deeper problems of modern spiritual life. Immermann’s important dramaturgic experiments in Düsseldorf are described in detail in Düsseldörfer Anfänge (1840). More significant is his position as a novelist. Here he clearly stands on the boundary line between Romanticism and modern literature; his Epigonen (1836) might be described as one of the last Romantic imitations of Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister, while the satire and realism of his second novel, Münchhausen (1838), form a complete break with the older literature. As a prose-writer Immermann is perhaps best remembered to-day by the admirable story of village life, Der Oberhof, which is embedded in the formless mass of Münchhausen. His last work was an unfinished epic, Tristan und Isolde (1840).

Immermann had a strong talent for drama, but it took him a while to find the right outlet for his skills. His early plays were imitations, partly of Kotzebue and partly of the Romantic dramas by Tieck and Müllner, and are now forgotten. However, in 1826, he released Cardenio und Celinde, a love tragedy with more promise; this, along with his earlier works, sparked the disdain of Platen, who made Immermann the target of his sharpest satire, Der romantische Oedipus. Between 1827 and 1832, Immermann restored his reputation with a series of historical tragedies, including Das Trauerspiel in Tirol (1827), Kaiser Friedrich II. (1828), and a trilogy based on Russian history, Alexis (1832). His masterpiece is the poetic mystery, Merlin (1831), a noble poem that, like its inspiration, Faust, tackles the deeper issues of modern spiritual life. Immermann’s significant theatrical experiments in Düsseldorf are detailed in Düsseldörfer Anfänge (1840). His role as a novelist is even more important. He clearly stands at the crossroads between Romanticism and modern literature; his Epigonen (1836) can be seen as one of the last Romantic imitations of Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister, while the satire and realism of his second novel, Münchhausen (1838), mark a complete break from older literature. As a prose writer, Immermann is perhaps best remembered today for the wonderful story of village life, Der Oberhof, which is part of the sprawling work of Münchhausen. His final work was an unfinished epic, Tristan und Isolde (1840).

Immermann’s Gesammelte Schriften were published in 14 vols. in 1835-1843; a new edition, with biography and introduction by R. Boxberger, in 20 vols. (Berlin, 1883); selected works, edited by M. Koch (4 vols., 1887-1888) and F. Muncker (6 vols., 1897). See G. zu Putlitz, Karl Immermann, sein Leben und seine Werke (2 vols., 1870); F. Freiligrath, Karl Immermann, Blätter der Erinnerung an ihn (1842); W. Müller, K. Immermann und sein Kreis (1860); R. Fellner, Geschichte einer deutschen Musterbühne (1888); K. Immermann: eine Gedächtnisschrift (1896).

Immermann’s Gesammelte Schriften were published in 14 volumes between 1835 and 1843; a new edition, with a biography and introduction by R. Boxberger, was released in 20 volumes (Berlin, 1883); selected works, edited by M. Koch (4 volumes, 1887-1888) and F. Muncker (6 volumes, 1897). See G. zu Putlitz, Karl Immermann, sein Leben und seine Werke (2 volumes, 1870); F. Freiligrath, Karl Immermann, Blätter der Erinnerung an ihn (1842); W. Müller, K. Immermann und sein Kreis (1860); R. Fellner, Geschichte einer deutschen Musterbühne (1888); K. Immermann: eine Gedächtnisschrift (1896).


IMMERSION (Lat. immersio, dipping), the act of being plunged into a fluid, or being overwhelmed by anything; in astronomy, the disappearance of a heavenly body in the shadow of another, especially of a satellite in the shadow of its primary.

IMMERSION (Lat. immersio, dipping), the act of being submerged in a liquid or being overwhelmed by something; in astronomy, the obscuring of a celestial object by the shadow of another, particularly when a satellite goes into the shadow of its primary.


IMMIGRATION (from Lat. in, into, and migrare, to depart), the movement of population, other than that of casual visitors or travellers, into one country from another (see Migration).

IMMIGRATION (from Lat. in, meaning "into," and migrare, meaning "to depart"), the movement of people, aside from temporary visitors or travelers, into one country from another (see Migration).


IMMORTALITY (Lat. in-, not, mortalis, mortal, from mors, death), the condition or quality of being exempt from death or annihilation. This condition has been predicated of man, both body and soul, in many senses; and the term is used by analogy of those whose deeds or writings have made a lasting impression on the memory of man. The belief in human immortality in some form is almost universal; even in early animistic cults the germ of the idea is present, and in all the higher religions it is an important feature. This article is confined to summarizing the philosophical or scientific arguments for, and objections to, the doctrine of the persistence of the human soul after death. For the Christian doctrine, see Eschatology; and for other religions see the separate articles.

IMMORTALITY (Lat. in-, not, mortalis, mortal, from mors, death), the state or quality of being free from death or destruction. This state has been associated with humans, both body and soul, in various ways; and the term is also applied to those whose actions or writings have left a lasting mark on human memory. The belief in human immortality in some form is almost universal; even in early animistic religions, the seed of the idea is present, and in all major religions, it is a significant aspect. This article focuses on outlining the philosophical or scientific arguments for and against the idea of the human soul continuing to exist after death. For the Christian perspective, see Eschatology; for other religions, see the individual articles.

In the Orphic mysteries “the soul was regarded as a part of the divine, a particula aurae divinae, for which the body in its limited and perishable condition was no fit organ, but a grave or prison (τὸ σῶμα σῆμα). The existence of the soul in the body was its punishment for sins in a previous condition; and the doom of its sins in the body was its descent into other bodies, and the postponement of its deliverance” (Salmond’s Christian Doctrine of Immortality, p. 109). This deliverance was what the mysteries promised. A remarkable passage in Pindar (Thren. 2) is thus rendered by J. W. Donaldson (Pindar’s Epinician or Triumphal Odes, p. 372). “By a happy lot, all persons travel to an end free of toil. And the body, indeed, is subject to the powerful influence of death; but a shadow of vitality is still left alive, and this alone is of divine origin; while our limbs are in activity it sleeps; but, when we sleep, it discloses to the mind in many dreams the future judgment with regard to happiness and misery.”

In the Orphic mysteries, “the soul was seen as a part of the divine, a particula aurae divinae, and the body, in its limited and fragile state, was no suitable vessel, but rather a grave or prison (the body is a sign). The soul's existence in the body was its punishment for sins committed in a previous state; and the consequence of its sins in the body was its reincarnation into other bodies, delaying its liberation” (Salmond’s Christian Doctrine of Immortality, p. 109). This liberation was what the mysteries promised. A notable passage in Pindar (Thren. 2) is translated by J. W. Donaldson (Pindar’s Epinician or Triumphal Odes, p. 372). “By a fortunate fate, everyone journeys to an end free from toil. The body, indeed, is subject to the powerful force of death; but a shadow of vitality still remains alive, and this alone is of divine origin; while our limbs are active it sleeps; but when we sleep, it reveals to the mind in many dreams the future judgment concerning happiness and misery.”

The belief of Socrates is uncertain. In the Apology he is represented as sure that “no evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after death,” but as not knowing whether “death be a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or a change or migration of the soul from this world to the next” (i. 40, 41). In the Phaedo a confident expectation is ascribed to him. He is not the body to be buried; he will not remain with his friends after he has drunk the poison, but he will go away to the happiness of the blessed. The silence of the Memorabilia of Xenophon must be admitted as an argument to the contrary; but the probability seems to be that Plato did not in the Phaedo altogether misrepresent the Master. In Plato’s thought the belief held a prominent position. “It is noteworthy,” says Professor D. G. Ritchie, “that, in the various dialogues in which Plato speaks of immortality, the arguments seem to be of different kinds, and most of them quite unconnected with one another.” In the Phaedrus (245 C) the argument is, that the soul is self-moving, and, therefore, immortal; and this argument is repeated in the Laws (x. 894, 895). It is an argument that Plato probably inherited from Alcmaeon, the physician of Croton (Arist. De An. i. 2, § 17 405 A 29), whose views were closely connected with those of the Pythagoreans. In the Phaedo the main argument up to which all the others lead is that the soul participates in the idea of life. Recollection (anamnesis) alone would prove pre-existence, but not existence after death. In the tenth book of the Republic we find the curious argument that the soul does not perish like the body, because its characteristic evil, sin or wickedness does not kill it as the diseases of the body wear out the bodily life. In the Timaeus (41 A) the immortality even of the gods is made dependent on the will of the Supreme Creator; souls are not in their own nature indestructible, but persist because of His goodness. In the Laws (xii. 959 A) the notion of a future life seems to be treated as a salutary doctrine which is to be believed because the legislator enacts it (Plato, p. 146). The estimate to be formed of this reasoning has been well stated by Dr A. M. Fairbairn, “Plato’s arguments for immortality, isolated, modernized, may be feeble, even valueless, but allowed to stand where and as he himself puts them, they have an altogether different worth. The ratiocinative parts of the Phaedo thrown into syllogisms may be easily demolished by a hostile logician; but in the dialogue as a whole there is a subtle spirit and cumulative force which logic can neither seize nor answer” (Studies in the Philosophy of Religion, p. 226, 1876).

The beliefs of Socrates are unclear. In the Apology, he is depicted as confident that “no evil can happen to a good person, either in life or after death,” but unsure whether “death is a state of nothingness and complete unconsciousness, or a change or migration of the soul from this world to the next” (i. 40, 41). In the Phaedo, he is attributed with a strong expectation. He is not simply a body to be buried; he will not stay with his friends after drinking the poison, but will instead go on to the joy of the blessed. The silence in Xenophon's Memorabilia must be acknowledged as an argument against this; however, it seems likely that Plato didn’t entirely misrepresent the Master in the Phaedo. In Plato’s philosophy, this belief holds a key position. “It’s interesting,” notes Professor D. G. Ritchie, “that in various dialogues where Plato discusses immortality, the arguments seem to be of different types, and most are rather unrelated to each other.” In the Phaedrus (245 C), the argument is that the soul is self-moving, and therefore immortal; this argument is also repeated in the Laws (x. 894, 895). It’s likely an argument that Plato inherited from Alcmaeon, the physician from Croton (Arist. De An. i. 2, § 17 405 A 29), whose ideas were closely linked to those of the Pythagoreans. In the Phaedo, the main argument to which all others lead is that the soul participates in the idea of life. Recollection (anamnesis) alone could suggest pre-existence, but not existence after death. In the tenth book of the Republic, we encounter the interesting argument that the soul does not die like the body because its inherent evil, sin or wickedness, doesn’t destroy it as bodily ailments exhaust physical life. In the Timaeus (41 A), even the immortality of the gods hinges on the will of the Supreme Creator; souls are not inherently indestructible but endure because of His goodness. In the Laws (xii. 959 A), the idea of an afterlife appears to be regarded as a beneficial doctrine that is to be believed simply because the lawmaker enacts it (Plato, p. 146). The assessment of this reasoning has been aptly stated by Dr. A. M. Fairbairn: “Plato’s arguments for immortality, if isolated and modernized, may seem weak, even worthless, but when allowed to exist in the way and context he presents them, they have an entirely different value. The logical aspects of the Phaedo could be easily dismantled by a critical logician; however, in the dialogue as a whole, there is a subtle spirit and cumulative strength that logic cannot grasp or counter” (Studies in the Philosophy of Religion, p. 226, 1876).

Aristotle held that the νοῦς or active intelligence alone is immortal. The Stoics were not agreed upon the question. Cleanthes is said to have held that all survive to the great conflagration which closes the cycle, Chrysippus that only the wise will. Marcus Aurelius teaches that even if the spirit survive for a time it is at last “absorbed in the generative principle of the universe.” Epicureanism thought that “the wise man fears not death, before which most men tremble; for, if we are, it is not; if it is, we are not.” Death is extinction. Augustine adopts a Platonic thought when he teaches that the immortality of the soul follows from its participation in the eternal truths. The Apologists themselves welcomed, and commended to others, the Christian revelation as affording a certainty of immortality such as reason could not give. The Aristotelian school in Islam did not speak with one voice upon the question; Avicenna declared the soul immortal, but Averroes assumes only the eternity of the universal intellect. Albertus Magnus argued that the soul is immortal, as ex se ipsa causa, and as independent of the body; Pietro Pomponazzi maintained that the soul’s immortality could be neither proved nor disproved by any natural reasons. Spinoza, while consistently with his pantheism denying personal immortality, affirms that “the human mind cannot be absolutely destroyed with the body, but there remains of it something which is eternal” (Eth. v. prop, xxiii.). The reason he gives is that, as this something “appertains to the 337 essence of the mind,” it is “conceived by a certain eternal necessity through the very essence of God.”

Aristotle believed that the mind, or active intelligence, is the only thing that is immortal. The Stoics had differing opinions on this matter. Cleanthes suggested that everyone survives until the great conflagration that ends the cycle, while Chrysippus believed that only the wise would survive. Marcus Aurelius teaches that even if the spirit exists for a time, it is eventually “absorbed into the generative principle of the universe.” Epicureanism argued that “the wise man does not fear death, which makes most people tremble; for, if we are, it is not; if it is, we are not.” Death is seen as extinction. Augustine took a Platonic view when he stated that the soul's immortality comes from its connection to eternal truths. The Apologists embraced the Christian revelation and encouraged others to do so, claiming it offered a certainty of immortality that reason alone could not provide. The Aristotelian school in Islam did not reach a clear consensus on this issue; Avicenna declared the soul to be immortal, while Averroes only acknowledged the eternity of the universal intellect. Albertus Magnus argued that the soul is immortal because it is ex se ipsa causa and independent of the body; Pietro Pomponazzi claimed that the soul’s immortality could neither be proven nor disproven by natural reasons. Spinoza, while denying personal immortality consistent with his pantheism, asserted that “the human mind cannot be completely destroyed with the body, but there remains something of it which is eternal” (Eth. v. prop, xxiii.). He argued that this something “pertains to the essence of the mind,” and it is “conceived by a certain eternal necessity through the very essence of God.”

Leibnitz, in accord with the distinctive principle of his philosophy, affirmed the absolute independence of mind and body as distinct monads, the parallelism of their functions in life being due to the pre-established harmony. For the soul, by its nature as a single monad indestructible and, therefore, immortal, death meant only the loss of the monads constituting the body and its return to the pre-existent state. The argument of Ernst Platner (Philos. Aphor. i. 1174, 1178) is similar. “If the human soul is a force in the narrower sense, a substance, and not a combination of substances, then, as in the nature of things there is no transition from existence to non-existence, we cannot naturally conceive the end of its existence, any more than we can anticipate a gradual annihilation of its existence.” He adds a reason that recalls one of Plato’s, “As manifestly as the human soul is by means of the senses linked to the present life, so manifestly it attaches itself by reason, and the conceptions, conclusions, anticipations and efforts to which reason leads it, to God and eternity.”

Leibnitz, in line with the unique principle of his philosophy, stated that mind and body are completely independent as separate monads, and their parallel functions in life result from a pre-established harmony. For the soul, being a singular and indestructible monad, it is therefore immortal; death simply signifies the loss of the monads that make up the body, leading to its return to the pre-existing state. Ernst Platner's argument (Philos. Aphor. i. 1174, 1178) is similar. “If the human soul is a force in a specific sense, a substance, and not a mix of substances, then, since there is fundamentally no shift from existence to non-existence, we cannot logically imagine the end of its existence, just as we cannot foresee a gradual elimination of its existence.” He further adds a reason reminiscent of one of Plato’s: “Just as the human soul is clearly connected to the present life through the senses, it is equally connected to God and eternity through reason, as indicated by the concepts, conclusions, anticipations, and efforts that reason guides it toward.”

Against the first kind of argument, as formulated by Moses Mendelssohn, Kant advances the objection that, although we may deny the soul extensive quantity, division into parts, yet we cannot refuse to it intensive quantity, degrees of reality; and consequently its existence may be terminated not by decomposition, but by gradual diminution of its powers (or to use the term he coined for the purpose, by elanguescence). This denial of any reasonable ground for belief in immortality in the Critique of Pure Reason (Transcendental Dialectic, bk. ii. ch. i.) is, however, not his last word on the subject. In the Critique of the Practical Reason (Dialectic, ch. i. sec. iv) the immortality of the soul is shown to be a postulate. Holiness, “the perfect accordance of the will with the moral law,” demands an endless progress; and “this endless progress is only possible on the supposition of an endless duration of the existence and personality of the same rational being (which is called the immortality of the soul).” Not demonstrable as a theoretical proposition, the immortality of the soul “is an inseparable result of an unconditional a priori practical law.” The moral interest, which is so decisive on this question in the case of Kant, dominates Bishop Butler also. A future life for him is important, because our happiness in it may depend on our present conduct; and therefore our action here should take into account the reward or punishment that it may bring on us hereafter. As he maintains that probability may and ought to be our guide in life, he is content with proving in the first chapter of the Analogy that “a future life is probable from similar changes (as death) already undergone in ourselves and in others, and from our present powers, which are likely to continue unless death destroy them.” While we may fear this, “there is no proof that it will, either from the nature of death,” of the effect of which on our powers we are altogether ignorant, “or from the analogy of nature, which shows only that the sensible proof of our powers (not the powers themselves) may be destroyed.” The imagination that death will destroy these powers is unfounded, because (1) “this supposes we are compounded, and so discerptible, but the contrary is probable” on metaphysical grounds (the indivisibility of the subject in which consciousness as indivisible inheres, and its distinction from the body) and also experimental (the persistence of the living being in spite of changes in the body or even losses of parts of the body); (2) this also assumes that “our present living powers of reflection” must be affected in the same way by death “as those of sensation,” but this is disproved by their relative independence even in this life; (3) “even the suspension of our present powers of reflection” is not involved in “the idea of death, which is simply dissolution of the body,” and which may even “be like birth, a continuation and perfecting of our powers.” “Even if suspension were involved, we cannot infer destruction from it” (analysis of chapter i. in Angus’s edition). He recognizes that “reason did, as it well might, conclude that it should finally, and upon the whole, be well with the righteous and ill with the wicked,” but only “revelation teaches us that the next state of things after the present is appointed for the execution of this justice” (ch. ii. note 10). He does not use this general anticipation of future judgment, as he might have done, as a positive argument for immortality.

Against the first kind of argument, as presented by Moses Mendelssohn, Kant objects that while we may deny the soul extensive quantity and division into parts, we cannot deny it intensive quantity, or degrees of reality; therefore, its existence may be ended not by decomposition but by a gradual reduction of its powers (or using the term he created for this, by elanguescence). This rejection of any reasonable basis for believing in immortality in the Critique of Pure Reason (Transcendental Dialectic, bk. ii. ch. i.) is not the last word on the topic. In the Critique of the Practical Reason (Dialectic, ch. i. sec. iv), the immortality of the soul is presented as a postulate. Holiness, “the perfect alignment of the will with the moral law,” necessitates an endless progress; and “this endless progress is only possible under the assumption of an endless duration of the existence and personality of the same rational being (which is referred to as the immortality of the soul).” Not provable as a theoretical assertion, the immortality of the soul “is an inseparable outcome of an unconditional a priori practical law.” The moral concern, which is so crucial for Kant on this issue, also influences Bishop Butler. A future life is significant for him because our happiness in it may hinge on our current behavior; thus, our actions here should consider the rewards or punishments they might bring us later. He argues that probability can and should guide us in life, and he is satisfied with demonstrating in the first chapter of the Analogy that “a future life is probable based on similar transformations (like death) already experienced by ourselves and others, and from our current abilities, which are likely to continue unless death destroys them.” While we may fear this, “there is no proof that it will, either from the nature of death,” the effects of which on our abilities we know little about, “or from the analogy of nature, which shows only that the sensible proof of our abilities (not the abilities themselves) may be destroyed.” The belief that death will eliminate these abilities is unfounded, because (1) “this assumes we are made up of parts and thus separable, but the opposite is probable” on metaphysical grounds (the indivisibility of the subject where consciousness resides, and its distinction from the body) and also experimental (the persistence of living beings despite changes or losses in the body); (2) this also presumes that “our current living abilities of reflection” must be affected by death “in the same way as those of sensation,” but this is disproven by their relative independence even in this life; (3) “even the suspension of our current reflective abilities” is not included in “the idea of death, which is simply the dissolution of the body,” and which may even “be like birth, a continuation and enhancement of our abilities.” “Even if suspension were involved, we cannot conclude destruction from it” (analysis of chapter i. in Angus’s edition). He acknowledges that “reason did, as it well might, conclude that it should ultimately, and overall, be well for the righteous and poorly for the wicked,” but only “revelation informs us that the next state of affairs after the present is set for the execution of this justice” (ch. ii. note 10). He does not use this general expectation of future judgment, as he could have, as a positive argument for immortality.

Adam Ferguson (Institutes of Moral Philosophy, p. 119, new ed., 1800) argues that “the desire for immortality is an instinct, and can reasonably be regarded as an indication of that which the author of this desire wills to do.” From the standpoint of modern science John Fiske confirms the validity of such an argument; for what he affirms in regard to belief in the divine is equally applicable to this belief in a future life. “If the relation thus established in the morning twilight of man’s existence between the human soul and a world invisible and immaterial is a relation of which only the subjective term is real and the objective term is non-existent; then I say it is something utterly without precedent in the whole history of creation” (Through Nature to God, 1899, p. 188, 189). Whatever may have been Hegel’s own belief in regard to personal immortality, the logical issue of his absolute idealism has been well stated by W. Windelband (History of Philosophy, p. 633). “It became clear that in the system of perpetual Becoming and of the dialectical passing over of all forms into one another, the finite personality could scarcely raise a plausible claim to the character of a substance and to immortality in the religious sense.” F. D. Schleiermacher applies the phrase “the immortality of religion” to the religious emotion of oneness, amid finitude, with the infinite and, amid time, with the eternal; denies any necessary connexion between the belief in the continuance of personal existence and the consciousness of God; and rests his faith on immortality altogether on Christ’s promise of living fellowship with His followers, as presupposing their as well as His personal immortality. A. Schopenhauer assigns immortality to the universal will to live; and Feuerbach declares spirit, consciousness eternal, but not any individual subject. R. H. Lotze for the decision of the question lays down the broad principle, “All that has once come to be will eternally continue so soon as for the organic unity of the world it has an unchangeable value, but it will obviously again cease to be, when that is not the case” (Gr. der Psy. p. 74).

Adam Ferguson (Institutes of Moral Philosophy, p. 119, new ed., 1800) argues that "the desire for immortality is an instinct and can reasonably be seen as a sign of what the author of this desire intends." From the perspective of modern science, John Fiske supports this argument; what he asserts about belief in the divine is equally relevant to belief in an afterlife. “If the relationship established in the early dawn of humanity between the human soul and an invisible, immaterial world is a relationship where only the subjective aspect is real and the objective aspect doesn't exist; then I say this is something completely unprecedented in the entire history of creation” (Through Nature to God, 1899, p. 188, 189). Regardless of Hegel’s own beliefs about personal immortality, the logical implications of his absolute idealism have been effectively stated by W. Windelband (History of Philosophy, p. 633). “It became clear that in the system of constant Becoming and the dialectical transformation of all forms into one another, the finite personality could hardly assert a convincing claim to substance and immortality in a religious sense.” F. D. Schleiermacher refers to “the immortality of religion” as the spiritual emotion of unity, amidst finitude, with the infinite and, amid time, with the eternal; he denies any necessary connection between the belief in the continuation of personal existence and the awareness of God; and bases his faith in immortality entirely on Christ's promise of living fellowship with His followers, which presupposes both their and His personal immortality. A. Schopenhauer attributes immortality to the universal will to live; and Feuerbach claims that spirit and consciousness are eternal, but not any individual self. R. H. Lotze establishes a broad principle for resolving the question: “All that has once come into being will continue to exist eternally as long as it has unchangeable value for the organic unity of the world, but it will obviously cease to be when that is not the case” (Gr. der Psy. p. 74).

Objections to the belief in immortality have been advanced from the standpoints of materialism, naturalism, pessimism and pantheism. Materialism argues that, as life depends on a material organism, thought is a function of the brain, and the soul is but the sum of mental states, to which, according to the theory of psychophysical parallelism, physical changes always correspond; therefore, the dissolution of the body carries with it necessarily the cessation of consciousness. That, as now constituted, mind does depend on brain, life on body, must be conceded, but that this dependence is so absolute that the function must cease with the organ has not been scientifically demonstrated; the connexion of the soul with the body is as yet too obscure to justify any such dogmatism. But against this inference the following considerations may be advanced: (1) Man does distinguish himself from his body; (2) he is conscious of his personal identity, through all the changes of his body; (3) in the exercise of his will he knows himself not controlled by but controlling his body; (4) his consciousness warrants his denying the absolute identification of himself and his body. It may further be added that materialism can be shown to be an inadequate philosophy in its attempts to account even for the physical universe, for this is inexplicable without the assumption of mind distinct from, and directive of, matter. The theory of psychophysical parallelism has been subjected to a rigorous examination in James Ward’s Naturalism and Agnosticism, part iii., in which the argument that mind cannot be derived from matter is convincingly presented. Sir Oliver Lodge in his reply to E. Haeckel’s Riddle of the Universe maintains that “life may be something not only ultra-terrestrial, but even immaterial, something outside our present categories of matter and energy; as real as they are, but different, and utilizing them for its own purpose” (Life and Matter, 1906, p. 198). He rejects the attempt to explain human personality as “generated by 338 the material molecular aggregate of its own unaided latent power,” and affirms that the “universe where the human spirit is more at home than it is among these temporary collocations of matter” is “a universe capable of infinite development, of noble contemplation, and of lofty joy, long after this planet—nay the whole solar system—shall have fulfilled its present spire of destiny, and retired cold and lifeless upon its endless way” (pp. 199-200).

Objections to the belief in immortality have been raised from perspectives like materialism, naturalism, pessimism, and pantheism. Materialism argues that since life relies on a physical organism, thought is a brain function, and the soul is just the collection of mental states. According to the theory of psychophysical parallelism, physical changes always correspond to mental states; thus, when the body disintegrates, consciousness also ceases. It's agreed that mind relies on the brain and life depends on the body, but the idea that this dependence is so absolute that mental functions must stop when the organ does hasn't been scientifically proven. The connection between the soul and the body is still too unclear to justify such a dogmatic stance. However, the following points can be made against this conclusion: (1) Humans see themselves as distinct from their bodies; (2) they are aware of their personal identity despite bodily changes; (3) in exercising their will, they feel that they control their bodies rather than being controlled by them; (4) their consciousness allows them to deny the absolute equation of themselves with their bodies. Additionally, materialism fails to adequately explain the physical universe, as it cannot be understood without assuming the existence of a mind that is separate from, and instructs, matter. The theory of psychophysical parallelism has been rigorously examined in James Ward’s Naturalism and Agnosticism, part iii., where the argument that mind cannot emerge from matter is persuasively laid out. Sir Oliver Lodge, in response to E. Haeckel’s Riddle of the Universe, argues that “life may be something not only ultra-terrestrial but even immaterial, something beyond our current understanding of matter and energy; as real as they are, but different, and using them for its own purposes” (Life and Matter, 1906, p. 198). He dismisses the notion that human personality is “generated by the material molecular aggregate of its own unaided latent power” and asserts that the “universe where the human spirit is more comfortable than among these temporary arrangements of matter” is “a universe capable of infinite development, noble contemplation, and lofty joy, long after this planet—indeed, the whole solar system—has completed its current destiny and has grown cold and lifeless on its endless journey” (pp. 199-200).

In his lecture on Human Immortality (3rd ed., 1906), Professor William James deals with “two supposed objections to the doctrine.” The first is “the law that thought is a function of the brain.” Accepting the law he distinguishes productive from permissive or transmissive function (p. 32), and, rejecting the view that brain produces thought, he recognizes that in our present condition brain transmits thought, thought needs brain for its organ of expression; but this does not exclude the possibility of a condition in which thought will be no longer so dependent on brain. He quotes (p. 57) with approval Kant’s words, “The death of the body may indeed be the end of the sensational use of our mind, but only the beginning of the intellectual use. The body would thus be not the cause of our thinking, but merely a condition restrictive thereof, and, although essential to our sensuous and animal consciousness, it may be regarded as an impeder of our pure spiritual life” (Kritik der reinen Vernunft, 2nd ed., p. 809).

In his lecture on Human Immortality (3rd ed., 1906), Professor William James addresses “two supposed objections to the doctrine.” The first is “the law that thought is a function of the brain.” While accepting this law, he distinguishes between productive and permissive or transmissive functions (p. 32). Rejecting the idea that the brain produces thought, he acknowledges that, in our current state, the brain transmits thought and is necessary for expressing it; however, this doesn’t rule out the possibility of a state where thought is no longer so reliant on the brain. He quotes (p. 57) with approval Kant’s words: “The death of the body may indeed be the end of the sensory use of our mind, but only the beginning of the intellectual use. Thus, the body would not be the cause of our thinking, but merely a restrictive condition, and while essential to our sensory and animal consciousness, it could be seen as a hindrance to our pure spiritual life” (Kritik der reinen Vernunft, 2nd ed., p. 809).

Further arguments in the same direction are derived from the modern school of psychical research (see especially F. W. H. Myers’ Human Personality, 1903).

Further arguments in the same direction come from the modern field of psychical research (see especially F. W. H. Myers’ Human Personality, 1903).

Another objection is advanced from the standpoint of naturalism, which, whether it issues in materialism or not, seeks to explain man as but a product of the process of nature. The universe is so immeasurably vast in extension and duration, and man is so small, his home but a speck in space, and his history a span in time that it seems an arrogant assumption for him to claim exemption from the universal law of evolution and dissolution. This view ignores that man has ideals of absolute value, truth, beauty, goodness, that he consciously communes with the God who is in all, and through all, and over all, that it is his mind which recognizes the vastness of the universe and thinks its universal law, and that the mind which perceives and conceives cannot be less, but must be greater than the object of its knowledge and thought.

Another objection comes from the perspective of naturalism, which, whether it leads to materialism or not, aims to explain humanity as merely a result of nature's processes. The universe is incredibly vast in size and time, while humans are tiny, their home just a tiny dot in space, and their history a brief moment in time. It seems arrogant for humans to believe they are exempt from the universal laws of evolution and decay. This viewpoint overlooks that humans have ideals of absolute value—truth, beauty, and goodness. They consciously connect with the God who is in everything, through everything, and above everything. It's the human mind that recognizes the vastness of the universe and contemplates its universal laws, and the mind that perceives and understands must be greater than the objects of its knowledge and thought.

Pessimism suggests a third objection. The present life is so little worth living that its continuance is not to be desired. James Thomson (“B.V.”) speaks “of the restful rapture of the inviolate grave,” and sings the praises of death and of oblivion. We cannot admit that the history of mankind justifies his conclusion; for the great majority of men life is a good, and its continuance an object of hope.

Pessimism raises a third objection. Life right now is so lacking in value that we shouldn't want it to go on. James Thomson (“B.V.”) talks about “the peaceful joy of the untouched grave” and praises death and oblivion. We can’t agree that the history of humanity supports his conclusion; for most people, life is valuable, and its continuation is something to look forward to.

For pantheism personal immortality appears a lesser good than reabsorption in the universal life; but against this objection we may confidently maintain that worthier of God and more blessed for man is the hope of a conscious communion in an eternal life of the Father of all with His whole family.

For pantheism, personal immortality seems like a lesser benefit compared to merging into universal life; however, we can confidently argue that a conscious connection in an eternal life with the Father of all and His entire family is more worthy of God and more blessed for humanity.

Lastly positivism teaches a corporate instead of an individual immortality; man should desire to live on as a beneficent influence in the race. This conception is expressed in George Eliot’s lines:

Lastly, positivism teaches a collective rather than an individual immortality; people should aspire to continue living on as a positive force in society. This idea is expressed in George Eliot’s lines:

“O, may I join the choir invisible

“O, may I join the invisible choir

Of those immortal dead who live again

Of those timeless souls who come back to life

In minds made better by their presence: live

In minds improved by their presence: live

In pulses stirred to generosity,

In waves of kindness,

In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn

In acts of brave integrity, in disdain

For miserable aims that end with self,

For selfish goals that only benefit oneself,

In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,

In elevated thoughts that break through the night like stars,

And with their mild persistence urge man’s search

And with their gentle persistence encourage man's search

To vaster issues.”

To bigger issues.”

But these possibilities are not mutually exclusive alternatives. A man may live on in the world by his teaching and example as a power for good, a factor of human progress, and he may also be continuing and completing his course under conditions still more favourable to all most worthy in him. Consciously to participate as a person in the progress of the race is surely a worthier hope than unconsciously to contribute to it as an influence; ultimately to share the triumph as well as the struggle is a more inspiring anticipation.

But these possibilities aren't mutually exclusive choices. A person can live on in the world through their teaching and example as a force for good, contributing to human progress, and they can also continue and complete their journey under even more favorable conditions for all the best parts of themselves. To consciously participate as an individual in the progress of humanity is undoubtedly a more admirable hope than to unconsciously contribute as an influence; ultimately sharing in both the triumphs and the struggles is a more inspiring expectation.

In stating constructively the doctrine of immortality we must assign altogether secondary importance to the metaphysical arguments from the nature of the soul. It is sufficient to show, as has already been done, that the soul is not so absolutely dependent on the body, that the dissolution of the one must necessarily involve the cessation of the other. Such arguments as the indivisibility of the soul and its persistence can at most indicate the possibility of immortality.

In constructively explaining the idea of immortality, we should place less importance on the metaphysical arguments regarding the nature of the soul. It's enough to demonstrate, as has already been shown, that the soul isn't entirely reliant on the body, meaning that the body's breakdown doesn't automatically lead to the end of the soul. Arguments like the soul's indivisibility and its persistence can at best suggest the possibility of immortality.

The juridical argument has some force; the present life does not show that harmony of condition and character which our sense of justice leads us to expect; the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer; there is ground for the expectation that in the future life the anomalies of this life will be corrected. Although this argument has the support of such great names as Butler and Kant, yet it will repel many minds as an appeal to the motive of self-interest.

The legal argument carries some weight; our current life doesn't reflect the harmony of circumstances and character that our sense of justice suggests we should see; the evil thrive while the good suffer; there is reason to believe that the inconsistencies of this life will be resolved in the next. Even though this argument is backed by prominent figures like Butler and Kant, it will deter many people as it appeals to self-interest.

The ethical argument has greater value. Man’s life here is incomplete, and the more lofty his aims, the more worthy his labours, the more incomplete will it appear to be. The man who lives for fame, wealth, power, may be satisfied in this life; but he who lives for the ideals of truth, beauty, goodness, lives not for time but for eternity, for his ideals cannot be realized, and so his life fulfilled on this side of the grave. Unless these ideals are mocking visions, man has a right to expect the continuance of his life for its completion. This is the line of argument developed by Professor Hugo Münsterberg in his lecture on The Eternal Life (1905), although he states it in the terms peculiar to his psychology, in which personality is conceived as primarily will. “No endless duration is our goal, but complete repose in the perfect satisfaction which the will finds when it has reached the significance, the influence, and the value at which it is aiming” (p. 83).

The ethical argument holds more importance. A person's life here feels incomplete, and the higher his aspirations and the more meaningful his efforts, the more incomplete it seems. A person who pursues fame, wealth, or power might find satisfaction in this life; however, someone who strives for ideals like truth, beauty, and goodness isn’t living for the present but for eternity, as these ideals can never be fully realized, leaving his life unfulfilled on this side of death. Unless these ideals are just empty dreams, people have the right to expect their lives to continue until they are complete. This is the argument presented by Professor Hugo Münsterberg in his lecture on The Eternal Life (1905), although he expresses it using the unique terminology of his psychology, in which personality is viewed primarily as will. “Our goal isn’t endless time, but complete peace in the perfect satisfaction that the will finds when it has achieved the significance, influence, and value it is striving for” (p. 83).

More general in its appeal still is the argument from the affections, which has been beautifully developed in Tennyson’s In Memoriam. The heart protests against the severance of death, and claims the continuance of love’s communion after death; and as man feels that love is what is most godlike in his nature, love’s claim has supreme authority.

More broadly appealing is the argument from the affections, which Tennyson has wonderfully explored in In Memoriam. The heart resists the separation caused by death and insists that love's connection continues after death; and since people feel that love embodies the most divine aspect of their nature, love's claim holds ultimate power.

There is a religious argument for immortality. The saints of the Hebrew nation were sure that as God had entered into fellowship with them, death could not sever them from his presence. This is the argument in Psalms xvi. and xvii., if, as is probable, the closing verses do express the hope of a glorious and blessed immortality. This too is the proof Jesus himself offers when he declares God to be the God of the living and not of the dead (Matt. xxii. 32). God’s companions cannot become death’s victims.

There is a religious argument for immortality. The saints of the Hebrew nation believed that since God was in fellowship with them, death could not separate them from his presence. This is the argument presented in Psalms 16 and 17, especially if, as is likely, the closing verses express the hope of a glorious and blessed immortality. This is also the proof Jesus himself provides when he says God is the God of the living, not the dead (Matt. 22:32). God’s companions cannot fall victim to death.

Josiah Royce in his lecture on The Conception of Immortality (1900) combines this argument of the soul’s union with God with the argument of the incompleteness of man’s life here:—

Josiah Royce, in his lecture on The Conception of Immortality (1900), combines the idea of the soul's connection with God with the notion that human life here is incomplete:—

“Just because God is One, all our lives have various and unique places in the harmony of the divine life. And just because God attains and wins and finds this uniqueness, all our lives win in our union with Him the individuality which is essential to their true meaning. And just because individuals whose lives have uniqueness of meaning are here only objects of pursuit, the attainment of this very individuality, since it is indeed real, occurs not in our present form of consciousness, but in a life that now we see not, yet in a life whose genuine meaning is continuous with our own human life, however far from our present flickering form of disappointed human consciousness that life of the final individuality may be. Of this our true individual life, our present life is a glimpse, a fragment, a hint, and in its best moments a visible beginning. That this individual life of all of us is not something limited in its temporal expression to the life that now we experience, follows from the very fact that here nothing final or individual is found expressed” (pp. 144-146).

“Just because God is One, our lives each have unique and varying roles in the harmony of the divine. And because God embraces and recognizes this uniqueness, our lives gain the individuality crucial to their true meaning through our union with Him. Individual lives that have meaningful uniqueness are mostly just pursuits here, and achieving this individuality, which is indeed real, doesn't happen in our current state of awareness but in a life that we can't see now. Still, it’s a life whose true meaning is connected to our own human experience, no matter how distant that ultimate individuality might be from our current, often disappointing human consciousness. In this sense, our true individual life is only a glimpse, a fragment, a hint in our present life, and at our best moments, it's a visible beginning. The fact that this individual life for all of us isn't confined to just the life we currently know shows that here, we don’t find anything final or truly individual expressed.”

R. W. Emerson declares that “the impulse to seek proof of immortality is itself the strongest proof of all.” We expect immortality not merely because we desire it; but because the desire itself arises from all that is best and truest and worthiest in ourselves. The desire is reasonable, moral, social, religious; it has the same worth as the loftiest ideals, and worthiest aspirations 339 of the soul of man. The loss of the belief casts a dark shadow over the present life. “No sooner do we try to get rid of the idea of Immortality—than Pessimism raises its head.... Human griefs seem little worth assuaging; human happiness too paltry (at the best) to be worth increasing. The whole moral world is reduced to a point. Good and evil, right and wrong, become infinitesimal, ephemeral matters. The affections die away—die of their own conscious feebleness and uselessness. A moral paralysis creeps over us” (Natural Religion, Postscript). The belief exercises a potent moral influence. “The day,” says Ernest Renan, “in which the belief in an after-life shall vanish from the earth will witness a terrific moral and spiritual decadence. Some of us perhaps might do without it, provided only that others held it fast. But there is no lever capable of raising an entire people if once they have lost their faith in the immortality of the soul” (quoted by A. W. Momerie, Immortality, p. 9). To this belief, many and good as are the arguments which can be advanced for it, a confident certainty is given by Christian faith in the Risen Lord, and the life and immortality which he has brought to light in his Gospel.

R. W. Emerson states that “the urge to seek proof of immortality is itself the strongest proof of all.” We expect immortality not just because we want it, but because that desire comes from the best, truest, and most worthy parts of ourselves. The desire is reasonable, moral, social, and religious; it holds the same value as our highest ideals and noblest aspirations 339 of the human soul. Losing this belief casts a dark shadow over our present lives. “As soon as we try to rid ourselves of the idea of Immortality, Pessimism raises its head.... Human suffering seems hardly worth addressing; human happiness feels too insignificant (at best) to be worth enhancing. The whole moral world gets reduced to a dot. Good and evil, right and wrong, become minuscule, fleeting matters. Our affections fade away—wasting away from their own awareness of weakness and futility. A moral paralysis creeps over us” (Natural Religion, Postscript). This belief has a powerful moral impact. “The day,” says Ernest Renan, “when belief in an afterlife disappears from the earth will see a terrible moral and spiritual decline. Some of us might be able to manage without it, as long as others hold onto it tightly. But there is no force that can elevate an entire people if they once lose their faith in the immortality of the soul” (quoted by A. W. Momerie, Immortality, p. 9). To this belief, many strong arguments can be made, but it gains confident certainty from Christian faith in the Risen Lord, and the life and immortality he has revealed through his Gospel.

In addition to the works referred to above, see R. K. Gaye, The Platonic Conception of Immortality and its Connexion with the Theory of Ideas (1904); R. H. Charles, A Critical History of the Doctrine of a Future Life in Israel, in Judaism and in Christianity (1899); E. Pétavel, The Problem of Immortality (Eng. trans. by F. A. Freer, 1892); J. Fiske, The Destiny of Man, viewed in the Light of his Origin (1884); G. A. Gordon, Immortality and the New Theodicy (1897); Henry Buckle, The After Life (1907).

In addition to the works mentioned above, check out R. K. Gaye, The Platonic Conception of Immortality and its Connexion with the Theory of Ideas (1904); R. H. Charles, A Critical History of the Doctrine of a Future Life in Israel, in Judaism and in Christianity (1899); E. Pétavel, The Problem of Immortality (Eng. trans. by F. A. Freer, 1892); J. Fiske, The Destiny of Man, viewed in the Light of his Origin (1884); G. A. Gordon, Immortality and the New Theodicy (1897); Henry Buckle, The After Life (1907).

(A. E. G.*)

IMMUNITY (from Lat. immunis, not subject to a munus or public service), a general term for exemption from liability, principally used in the legal sense discussed below, but also in recent times in pathology (for which see Bacteriology). In international law the term (“not serving,” “not subject”) implies exemption from the jurisdiction of the state which otherwise exercises jurisdiction where the immunity arises. It is thus applied to the exceptional position granted to sovereigns and chiefs of states generally, and their direct representatives in the states to which they are accredited.

IMMUNITY (from Latin immunis, meaning not subject to a munus or public service), is a general term for exemption from liability. It is mainly used in the legal context discussed below, but it has also been applied in recent times in pathology (for which see Bacteriology). In international law, the term ("not serving," "not subject") refers to exemption from the jurisdiction of the state that would otherwise have authority where the immunity is granted. Thus, it is used to describe the special status given to sovereigns and heads of state, along with their direct representatives in the countries where they are appointed.

Under Exterritoriality is treated the inviolability of embassies and legations and the application of the material side of the doctrine of immunity. As a right appertaining to the persons of those who enjoy it, the doctrine has grown out of the necessity for sovereigns of respecting each other’s persons in their common interest. To be able to negotiate without danger of arrest or interference of any kind with their persons was the only condition upon which sovereigns would have been able to meet and discuss their joint interests. With the development of states as independent entities and of intercourse between them and their “nationals,” the work of diplomatic missions increased to such an extent that instead of having merely occasional ambassadors as at the beginning, states found it expedient to have resident representatives with a permanent residence. Hence the sovereign’s inviolability becomes vested in the person of the sovereign’s delegate, and with it as a necessary corollary the exterritoriality of his residence. Out of the further expansion of the work of diplomatic missions came duplication of the personnel and classes of diplomatic secretaries, who as forming part of the embassy or legation also had to be covered by the diplomatic immunity.

Under Exterritoriality, we discuss the inviolability of embassies and diplomatic missions, along with the practical aspects of immunity. This right, associated with those who hold it, developed from the need for sovereigns to respect each other's persons for their mutual benefit. The ability to negotiate without the threat of arrest or any kind of interference was the only way sovereigns could meet and discuss their shared interests. As states evolved into independent entities and began interacting with their nationals, the role of diplomatic missions expanded significantly. Instead of just having occasional ambassadors like in the past, states found it necessary to have permanent representatives with a fixed residence. Consequently, the inviolability of the sovereign became linked to the representative's person, leading to the establishment of the exterritoriality of their residence. As diplomatic functions grew, there was also an increase in the number of diplomatic personnel and classifications of diplomatic secretaries, who, as part of the embassy or legation, needed to be protected by diplomatic immunity as well.

In no branch of international intercourse have states shown so laudable a respect for tradition as in the case of this immunity, and this in spite of the hardship which frequently arises for private citizens through unavoidable dealings with members of embassies and legations. The Institute of International Law (see Peace) at their Cambridge session in 1895 drew up the following rules,1 which may be taken to be the only precise statement of theory on the subject, for the guidance of foreign offices in dealing with it:—

In no area of international relations have countries demonstrated as much respect for tradition as in the case of this immunity, and this is despite the challenges that often arise for private citizens from unavoidable interactions with embassy and legation members. The Institute of International Law (see Peace) at their Cambridge meeting in 1895 established the following rules,1 which can be considered the only clear statement of theory on the subject to guide foreign offices in handling it:—

Art. 1.—Public ministers are inviolable. They also enjoy “exterritoriality,” in the sense and to the extent hereinafter mentioned and a certain number of immunities.

Art. 1.—Public ministers are untouchable. They also benefit from "exterritoriality," in the sense and to the extent mentioned later, along with several immunities.

Art. 2.—The privilege of inviolability extends: (1) To all classes of public ministers who regularly represent their sovereign or their country; (2) To all persons forming part of the official staff of a diplomatic mission; (3) To all persons forming part of its non-official staff, under reserve, that if they belong to the country where the mission resides they only enjoy it within the official residence.

Art. 2.—The privilege of inviolability applies: (1) To all types of public ministers who officially represent their government or country; (2) To everyone on the official team of a diplomatic mission; (3) To all individuals on its non-official staff, provided that if they are from the country where the mission is located, they only enjoy this privilege within the official residence.

Art. 3.—The government to which the minister is accredited must abstain from all offence, insult or violence against the persons entitled to the privilege, must set an example in the respect which is due to them and protect them by specially rigorous penalties from all offence, insult or violence on the part of the inhabitants of the country, so that they may devote themselves to their duties in perfect freedom.

Art. 3.—The government where the minister is assigned must refrain from any offense, insult, or violence against those entitled to privileges. It should lead by example in showing the respect they deserve and protect them with strict penalties from any offense, insult, or violence by the local population, so they can focus on their responsibilities without any restrictions.

Art. 4.—Immunity applies to everything necessary for the fulfilment by ministers of their duties, especially to personal effects, papers, archives and correspondence.

Art. 4.—Immunity covers everything needed for ministers to carry out their responsibilities, particularly personal belongings, documents, records, and correspondence.

Art. 5.—It lasts during the whole time which the minister or diplomatic official spends, in his official capacity, in the country to which he has been sent.

Art. 5.—It lasts for the entire period that the minister or diplomatic official spends, in their official role, in the country they have been assigned to.

It continues even in time of war between the two powers during the period necessary to enable the minister to leave the country with his staff and effects.

It continues even during wartime between the two powers for the time needed to allow the minister to leave the country with his staff and belongings.

Art. 6.—Inviolability cannot be claimed: (1) In case of legitimate defence on the part of private persons against acts committed by the persons who enjoy the privilege; (2) In case of risks incurred by any of the persons in question voluntarily or needlessly; (3) In case of improper acts committed by them, provoking on the part of the state to which the minister is accredited measures of defence or precaution; but, except in a case of extreme urgency, this state should confine itself to reporting the facts to the minister’s government, requesting the punishment or the recall of the guilty agent and, if necessary, to surrounding the official residence to prevent unlawful communications or manifestations.

Art. 6.—Inviolability cannot be claimed: (1) In cases where private individuals act in legitimate defense against actions taken by those who have the privilege; (2) In situations where the individuals involved voluntarily or unnecessarily put themselves at risk; (3) In instances of inappropriate actions by them that provoke defensive or precautionary measures from the state to which the minister is assigned; however, except in cases of extreme urgency, this state should limit itself to informing the minister’s government about the incidents, requesting punishment or the removal of the responsible person, and, if necessary, securing the official residence to prevent illegal communications or actions.

Immunity with Respect to Taxes.

Tax Immunity.

Art. 11.—A public minister in a foreign country, functionaries officially attached to his mission and the members of their families residing with them, are exempt from paying: (1) Personal direct taxes and sumptuary taxes; (2) General taxes on property, whether on capital or income; (3) War contributions; (4) Customs duties in respect of articles for their personal use.

Art. 11.—A public minister in a foreign country, officials officially connected to their mission, and their family members living with them are exempt from paying: (1) Personal income taxes and luxury taxes; (2) General property taxes, whether on assets or income; (3) War taxes; (4) Customs duties on items for their personal use.

Each government shall indicate the grounds (justifications) to which these exemptions from taxation shall be subordinated.

Each government will specify the reasons (justifications) that these tax exemptions will depend on.

Immunity from Jurisdiction.

Legal Immunity.

Art. 12.—A public minister in a foreign country, functionaries officially attached to his mission and the members of their families residing with them, are exempt from all jurisdiction, civil or criminal, of the state to which they are accredited; in principle, they are only subject to the civil and criminal jurisdiction of their own country. A claimant may apply to the courts of the capital of the country of the minister, subject to the right of the minister to prove that he has a different domicile in his country.

Art. 12.—A public minister in a foreign country, officials officially connected to his mission, and their family members living with them are exempt from all civil and criminal jurisdiction of the country they are in. In general, they are only subject to the civil and criminal laws of their own country. A claimant can bring their case to the courts in the capital of the minister's country, but the minister has the right to prove that he has a different permanent residence in his country.

Art. 13.—With respect to crimes, persons indicated in the preceding article remain subject to the penal laws of their own country, as if they had committed the acts in their own country.

Art. 13.—Regarding crimes, the individuals mentioned in the previous article are still subject to their home country's criminal laws, as if they had committed those acts there.

Art. 14.—The immunity attaches to the function in respect of acts connected with the function. As regards acts done not in connexion with the function, immunity can only be claimed so long as the function lasts.

Art. 14.—The immunity is linked to the role in relation to actions associated with that role. For actions taken that are not related to the role, immunity can only be claimed as long as the role is active.

Art. 15.—Persons of the nationality of the country to the government of which they are accredited cannot claim the privilege of immunity.

Art. 15.—People who have the nationality of the country to which they are accredited cannot claim immunity privileges.

Art. 16.—Immunity from jurisdiction cannot be invoked: (1) In case of proceedings taken by reason of engagements entered into by the exempt person, not in his official or private capacity, but in the exercise of a profession carried on by him in the country concurrently with his diplomatic functions; (2) In respect of real actions, including possessory actions, relating to anything movable or immovable in the country.

Art. 16.—You cannot claim immunity from jurisdiction: (1) when legal actions are taken because of agreements made by the exempt person, not in their official or private role, but while engaging in a profession they are practicing in the country alongside their diplomatic duties; (2) regarding legal claims involving real estate, including possession claims, connected to any movable or immovable property in the country.

It exists even in case of a breach of the law which may endanger public order or safety, or of crime against the safety of the state, without prejudice to such steps as the territorial government may take for its own protection.

It exists even in the event of a law violation that could threaten public order or safety, or a crime against the safety of the state, without affecting any actions the local government may take for its own protection.

Art. 17.—Persons entitled to immunity from jurisdiction may refuse to appear as witnesses before a territorial court on condition that, if required by diplomatic intervention, they shall give their testimony in the official residence to a magistrate of the country appointed for the purpose.

Art. 17.—Individuals with immunity from jurisdiction can decline to testify in front of a local court, provided that, if requested through diplomatic channels, they will give their testimony at the official residence to an appointed magistrate from the country for that purpose.

Further questions connected with Immunity and Exterritoriality (q.v.) arise out of the different industrial enterprises undertaken by states, such as posts, telegraphs, telephones, railways, steamships, &c., which require regulation to prevent conflicts of interest between the state owners and the private interests involved in these enterprises.

Further questions related to Immunity and Exterritoriality (q.v.) come up from the various industrial ventures carried out by states, like postal services, telecommunications, railways, steamships, etc., which need regulation to avoid conflicts of interest between the state owners and the private entities involved in these ventures.

(T. Ba.)

1 The rules were drawn up in French. The author of this article is responsible for the translation of them.

1 The rules were written in French. The writer of this article is in charge of translating them.


IMOLA (anc. Forum Cornelii), a town and episcopal see of Emilia, Italy, in the province of Bologna, from which it is 21 m. S.E. by rail, 140 ft. above sea-level. Pop. (1901) 12,058 (town); 33,144 (commune). The cathedral of S. Cassiano has been 340 modernized; it possesses interesting reliquaries, and contains the tomb of Petrus Chrysologus, archbishop of Ravenna (d. 451), a native of Imola. S. Domenico has a fine Gothic portal and S. Maria in Regola an old campanile. The town also contains some fine palaces. The communal library has some MSS., including a psalter with miniatures, that once belonged to Sir Thomas More. The citadel is square with round towers at the angles; it dates from 1304, and is now used as a prison. Imola has a large lunatic asylum with over 1200 inmates. Innocenzo Francucci (Innocenzo da Imola), a painter of the Bolognese school (1494-1549), was a native of Imola, and two of his works are preserved in the Palazzo del Comune. The Madonna del Piratello, 2 m. outside the town to the N.W., is in the early Renaissance style (1488); the campanile was probably built from Bramante’s plans in 1506.

IMOLA (formerly Forum Cornelii), a town and bishopric in Emilia, Italy, located in the province of Bologna, which is 21 miles southeast by train and 140 feet above sea level. Population (1901) was 12,058 (town); 33,144 (commune). The cathedral of S. Cassiano has been 340 updated; it features interesting reliquaries and the tomb of Petrus Chrysologus, the archbishop of Ravenna (d. 451), who was born in Imola. S. Domenico has a beautiful Gothic entrance, and S. Maria in Regola has an old bell tower. The town also boasts some impressive palaces. The communal library houses several manuscripts, including a psalter with miniatures that once belonged to Sir Thomas More. The citadel is square with round towers at each corner; it dates back to 1304 and is now used as a prison. Imola has a large mental asylum with over 1,200 residents. Innocenzo Francucci (Innocenzo da Imola), a painter from the Bolognese school (1494-1549), was from Imola, and two of his works are displayed in the Palazzo del Comune. The Madonna del Piratello, located 2 miles northwest of the town, is in the early Renaissance style (1488); the bell tower was likely built according to Bramante’s plans in 1506.

The ancient Forum Cornelii, a station on the Via Aemilia, is said by Prudentius, writing in the 5th century A.D., to have been founded by Sulla; but the fact that it belonged to the Tribus Pollia shows that it already possessed Roman citizenship before the Social war. In later times we hear little of it; Martial published his third book of epigrams while he was there. In the Lombard period the name Imolas begins to appear. In 1480, after a chequered history, the town came into the possession of Girolamo Riario, lord of Forli, as the dowry of his wife Caterina Sforza, and was incorporated with the States of the Church by Caesar Borgia in 1500.

The ancient Forum Cornelii, a stop on the Via Aemilia, is mentioned by Prudentius, writing in the 5th century A.D., to have been established by Sulla; however, the fact that it belonged to the Tribus Pollia indicates that it already had Roman citizenship before the Social War. We hear little about it in later times; Martial published his third book of epigrams while he was there. During the Lombard period, the name Imolas starts to appear. In 1480, after a complicated history, the town came under the control of Girolamo Riario, lord of Forli, as part of the dowry of his wife Caterina Sforza, and was incorporated into the States of the Church by Caesar Borgia in 1500.


IMP (O. Eng. impa, a graft, shoot; the verb impian is cognate with Ger. impfen, to graft, inoculate, and the Fr. enter; the ultimate origin is probably the Gr. ἐμφύειν, to implant, cf. ἔμφυτος, engrafted), originally a slip or shoot of a plant or tree used for grafting. This use is seen in Chaucer (Prologue to the Monk’s Tale, 68) “Of fieble trees ther comen wrecched ympes.” The verb “to imp” in the sense of “to graft” was especially used of the grafting of feathers on to the wing of a falcon or hawk to replace broken or damaged plumage, and is frequently used metaphorically. Like “scion,” “imp” was till the 17th century used of a member of a family, especially of high rank, hence often used as equivalent to “child.” The New English Dictionary quotes an epitaph (1584) in the Beauchamp chapel at Warwick, “Heere resteth the body of the noble Impe Robert of Dudley ... sonne of Robert Erle of Leycester.” The current use of the word for a small devil or mischievous sprite is due to the expressions “imp of Satan, or of the devil or of hell,” in the sense of “child of evil.” It was thus particularly applied to the demons supposed to be the “familiar” spirits of witches.

IMP (O. Eng. impa, a graft, shoot; the verb impian is related to Ger. impfen, to graft, inoculate, and the Fr. enter; the ultimate origin is probably the Gr. ἐμφύειν, to implant, cf. inherent, engrafted), originally referred to a slip or shoot of a plant or tree used for grafting. This usage can be seen in Chaucer's (Prologue to the Monk’s Tale, 68) “Of feeble trees there come wretched imps.” The verb “to imp” in the sense of “to graft” was particularly used in connection with grafting feathers onto the wing of a falcon or hawk to replace broken or damaged plumage, and it's often used metaphorically. Like “scion,” “imp” was used until the 17th century to refer to a member of a family, especially of high rank, often equivalent to “child.” The New English Dictionary cites an epitaph (1584) in the Beauchamp chapel at Warwick, “Here rests the body of the noble Imp Robert of Dudley ... son of Robert Earl of Leicester.” The current meaning of the word as a small devil or mischievous sprite comes from expressions like “imp of Satan, or of the devil or of hell,” meaning “child of evil.” It was thus particularly applied to the demons believed to be the “familiar” spirits of witches.


IMPATIENS, in botany, a genus of annual or biennial herbs, sometimes becoming shrubby, chiefly natives of the mountains of tropical Asia and Africa, but also found widely distributed in the north temperate zone and in South Africa. The flowers, which are purple, yellow, pink or white and often showy, are spurred and irregular in form and borne in the leaf-axils. The name is derived from the fact that the seed-pod when ripe discharges the seeds by the elastic separation and coiling of the valves. Impatiens Noli-me-tangere, touch-me-not, an annual succulent herb with yellow flowers, is probably wild in moist mountainous districts in north Wales, Lancashire and Westmorland. I. Roylei, a tall hardy succulent annual with rose-purple flowers, a Himalayan species, is common in England as a self-sown garden plant or garden escape. I. Balsamina, the common balsam of gardens, a well-known annual, is a native of India; it is one of the showiest of summer and autumn flowers and of comparatively easy cultivation. I. Sultani, a handsome plant, with scarlet flowers, a native of Zanzibar, is easily grown in a greenhouse throughout the summer, but requires warmth in winter.

IMPATIENS, in botany, is a genus of annual or biennial herbs, sometimes becoming shrubby, mainly found in the mountains of tropical Asia and Africa, but also widely spread in the northern temperate zone and South Africa. The flowers, which come in purple, yellow, pink, or white and are often vibrant, have a spurred and irregular shape and grow in the leaf axils. The name comes from the fact that when the seed pod is ripe, it releases the seeds by the elastic separation and curling of the valves. Impatiens Noli-me-tangere, or touch-me-not, is an annual succulent herb with yellow flowers and is likely found wild in the damp mountainous areas of North Wales, Lancashire, and Westmorland. I. Roylei, a tall hardy succulent annual with rose-purple flowers, is a Himalayan species that commonly self-seeds in gardens or escapes cultivation in England. I. Balsamina, the common balsam found in gardens, is a well-known annual native to India; it is one of the most visually striking summer and autumn flowers and is relatively easy to grow. I. Sultani, a beautiful plant with scarlet flowers, is native to Zanzibar and can be easily grown in a greenhouse during the summer, though it needs warmth in the winter.


IMPEACHMENT (O. Fr. empechement, empeschement, from empecher or empescher, to hinder, Late Lat. impedicare, to entangle, pedica, fetter, pes, foot), the English form of judicial parliamentary procedure against criminals, in which the House of Commons are the prosecutors and the House of Lords the judges. It differs from bills of attainder (q.v.) in being strictly judicial. When the House of Commons has accepted a motion for impeachment, the mover is ordered to proceed to the bar of the House of Lords, and there impeach the accused “in the name of the House of Commons, and of all the Commons of the United Kingdom.” The charges are formulated in articles, to each of which the accused may deliver a written answer. The prosecution must confine itself to the charges contained in the articles, though further articles may be adhibited from time to time. The Commons appoint managers to conduct the prosecution, but the whole House in committee attends the trial. The defendant may appear by counsel. The president of the House of Lords is the lord high steward, in the case of peers impeached for high treason; in other cases the lord chancellor. The hearing takes place as in an ordinary trial, the defence being allowed to call witnesses if necessary, and the prosecution having a right of reply. At the end of the case the president “puts to each peer, beginning with the junior baron, the questions upon the first article, whether the accused be guilty of the crimes charged therein. Each peer in succession rises in his place when the question is put, and standing uncovered, and laying his right hand upon his breast, answers, ‘Guilty’ or ‘Not guilty,’ as the case may be, ‘upon my honour.’ Each article is proceeded with separately in the same manner, the lord high steward giving his own opinion the last” (May’s Parliamentary Practice, c. xxiii.). Should the accused be found guilty, judgment follows if the Commons move for it, but not otherwise. The Commons thus retain the power of pardon in their own hands, and this right they have in several cases expressly claimed by resolution, declaring that it is not parliamentary for their lordships to give judgment “until the same be first demanded by this House.” Spiritual peers occupy an anomalous position in the trial of peers, as not being themselves ennobled in blood; on the impeachment of Danby it was declared by the Lords that Spiritual peers have the right to stay and sit during proceedings for impeachment, but it is customary for them to withdraw before judgment is given, entering a protest “saving to themselves and their successors all such rights in judicature as they have by law, and by right ought to have.” An impeachment, unlike other parliamentary proceedings, is not interrupted by prorogation, nor even by dissolution. Proceedings in the House of Commons preliminary to an impeachment are subject to the ordinary rules, and in the Warren Hastings case an act was passed to prevent the preliminary proceedings from discontinuance by prorogation and dissolution. A royal pardon cannot be pleaded in bar of an impeachment, though it is within the royal prerogative to pardon after the lords have pronounced judgment. The point was raised in the case of the earl of Danby in 1679, and the rule was finally settled by the Act of Settlement. Persons found guilty on impeachment may be reprieved or pardoned like other convicts. Impeachment will lie against all kinds of crimes and misdemeanours, and against offenders of all ranks. In the case of Simon de Beresford, tried before the House of Lords in 1330, the House declared “that the judgment be not drawn into example or consequence in time to come, whereby the said peers may be charged hereafter to judge others than their peers,” from which Blackstone and others have inferred that “a commoner cannot be impeached before the Lords for any capital offence, but only for high misdemeanours.” In the case of Edward Fitzharris in 1681, the House of Commons in answer to a resolution of the Lords suspending the impeachment, declared it to be their undoubted right “to impeach any peer or commoner for treason or any other crime or misdemeanour.” And the House of Lords has in practice recognized the right of the Commons to impeach whomsoever they will. The procedure has, however, been reserved for great political offenders whom the ordinary powers of the law might fail to reach. It has now fallen into desuetude. The last impeachments were those of Warren Hastings (1788-1795) and Lord Melville (1806), but an unsuccessful attempt was made by Thomas C. Anstey to impeach Lord Palmerston in 1848. The earliest recorded instances of impeachment are those of Lord Latimer in 1376 and of Pole, earl of Suffolk, in 1386. From the time of Edward IV. to Elizabeth it fell into disuse, “partly,” says Hallam, “from the loss 341 of that control which the Commons had obtained under Richard II. and the Lancastrian kings, and partly from the preference the Tudor princes had given to bills of attainder or pains and penalties when they wished to turn the arm of parliament against an obnoxious subject.” Revived in the reign of James I., it became an instrument of parliamentary resistance to the crown, and it was not unfrequently resorted to in the first three reigns after the Revolution.

IMPEACHMENT (From Old French empechement, empeschement, derived from empecher or empescher, meaning to hinder, and from Late Latin impedicare, which means to entangle, pedica, meaning fetter, and pes, meaning foot), is the English judicial parliamentary process used against criminals, where the House of Commons acts as prosecutors and the House of Lords serves as judges. This process is different from bills of attainder (q.v.) as it is strictly judicial. Once the House of Commons has approved a motion for impeachment, the individual who initiated it must go to the House of Lords and present the charges “in the name of the House of Commons and all the Commons of the United Kingdom.” The allegations are laid out in articles, to which the accused can respond in writing. The prosecution must stick to the charges outlined in those articles, although additional articles can be added over time. The Commons appoint managers to handle the prosecution, but the entire House sits as a committee during the trial. The defendant can have legal counsel present. The president of the House of Lords acts as the lord high steward for peers being impeached for high treason; in other cases, the lord chancellor takes this role. The hearings are conducted like a regular trial, allowing the defense to call witnesses if needed, while the prosecution has the right to reply. At the conclusion of the proceedings, the president asks each peer, starting with the junior baron, whether the accused is guilty of the charges in the first article. Each peer then stands, uncovered, places their right hand on their heart, and answers ‘Guilty’ or ‘Not guilty,’ as applicable, stating ‘upon my honour.’ Each article is addressed separately in the same manner, with the lord high steward giving their opinion last” (May’s Parliamentary Practice, c. xxiii.). If the accused is found guilty, a judgment is issued if the Commons request it; otherwise, it does not happen. The Commons therefore hold the power to grant pardons themselves, a right they have claimed in several instances through resolutions, stating that it is not parliamentary for the Lords to deliver a judgment “until first demanded by this House.” Spiritual peers have a unique position during the trials of peers, not being ennobled by blood; during Danby’s impeachment, the Lords affirmed that Spiritual peers can remain present during impeachment proceedings, although it is customary for them to withdraw before judgment is delivered, entering a protest “saving to themselves and their successors all such rights in judicature as they have by law, and by right ought to have.” Impeachment, unlike other parliamentary processes, is not interrupted by prorogation or even dissolution. Preliminary proceedings in the House of Commons before an impeachment follow standard rules, and in the Warren Hastings case, an act was established to ensure these preliminary steps do not cease due to prorogation or dissolution. A royal pardon cannot be used to block an impeachment, although it is within the royal prerogative to grant a pardon after the lords have announced their judgment. This issue arose in the case of the Earl of Danby in 1679, and the rule was ultimately established by the Act of Settlement. Individuals found guilty during an impeachment can be reprieved or pardoned like any other convicted individuals. Impeachment can be initiated for all kinds of crimes and misdemeanors, targeting offenders of all ranks. For example, in the case of Simon de Beresford, who was tried before the House of Lords in 1330, the House stated “that the judgment be not drawn into example or consequence in time to come, whereby the said peers may be charged hereafter to judge others than their peers,” which led Blackstone and others to conclude that “a commoner cannot be impeached before the Lords for any capital offence, but only for high misdemeanours.” During Edward Fitzharris's case in 1681, the House of Commons responded to a Lords' resolution that suspended the impeachment by asserting their undeniable right “to impeach any peer or commoner for treason or any other crime or misdemeanour.” The House of Lords has, in practice, recognized the Commons' right to impeach anyone they choose. However, this process has typically been reserved for notable political offenders that ordinary legal powers might not adequately address. It has now largely fallen out of practice. The last impeachments were of Warren Hastings (1788-1795) and Lord Melville (1806), though there was an unsuccessful attempt by Thomas C. Anstey to impeach Lord Palmerston in 1848. The earliest documented cases of impeachment are those of Lord Latimer in 1376 and of Pole, Earl of Suffolk, in 1386. From the reign of Edward IV to Elizabeth, the process went out of use, “partly,” according to Hallam, “due to the loss of the control that the Commons had gained under Richard II and the Lancastrian kings, and partly because the Tudor monarchs preferred bills of attainder or pains and penalties when they wanted to use Parliament against an unpopular subject.” Revived during the reign of James I, it became a tool for parliamentary resistance against the crown and was not infrequently employed during the first three reigns following the Revolution.

In the United States the procedure of impeachment both in the national and in almost all of the state governments is very similar to that described above. The national constitution prescribes that the House of Representatives “shall have the sole power of impeachment” and that “the Senate shall have the sole power to try all impeachments.” The House appoints managers to conduct the prosecution at the bar of the Senate, and the vote of the Senate is taken by putting the question separately to each member, who, during the trial, must be on oath or affirmation. In ordinary cases the president or president pro tempore of the Senate presides, but when the president of the United States is on trial the presiding officer must be the chief justice of the United States Supreme Court. A two-thirds vote is necessary for conviction. The president, vice-president or any civil officer of the United States may be impeached for “treason, bribery or other high crimes and misdemeanours,” and if convicted, is removed from office and may be disqualified for holding any office under the government in future. The officer after removal is also “liable and subject to indictment, trial, judgment and punishment, according to law.” The term “civil officers of the United States” has been construed as being inapplicable to members of the Senate and the House of Representatives. The president’s pardoning power does not extend to officers convicted, on impeachment, of offences against the United States. Since the organization of the Federal government there have been only eight impeachment trials before the United States Senate, and of these only two—the trials of Judge John Pickering, a Federal District judge for the District of New Hampshire, in 1803, on a charge of making decisions contrary to law and of drunkenness and profanity on the bench, and of Judge W. H. Humphreys, Judge of the Federal District Court of Tennessee, in 1863, on a charge of making a secession speech and of accepting a judicial position under the Confederate Government—resulted in convictions. The two most famous cases are those of Justice Samuel Chase of the United States Supreme Court in 1805, and of President Andrew Johnson, the only chief of the executive who has been impeached, in 1868. There is a conflict of opinion with regard to the power of the House to impeach a Federal officer who has resigned his office, and also with regard to the kind of offences for which an officer can be impeached, some authorities maintaining that only indictable offences warrant impeachment, and others that impeachment is warranted by any act highly prejudicial to the public welfare or subversive of any essential principle of government. The latter view was adopted by the House of Representatives when it impeached President Johnson.

In the United States, the impeachment process at the national level and in almost all state governments is very similar to what’s described above. The national constitution states that the House of Representatives “shall have the sole power of impeachment” and that “the Senate shall have the sole power to try all impeachments.” The House appoints managers to handle the prosecution in the Senate, and the Senate votes on the matter by asking each member separately; during the trial, they must be under oath or affirmation. Normally, the president or president pro tempore of the Senate presides, but when the president of the United States is being tried, the presiding officer must be the chief justice of the United States Supreme Court. A two-thirds vote is required for a conviction. The president, vice president, or any civil officer of the United States can be impeached for “treason, bribery or other high crimes and misdemeanors,” and if convicted, they are removed from office and may be disqualified from holding any future government position. After removal, the officer is also “liable and subject to indictment, trial, judgment and punishment, according to law.” The term “civil officers of the United States” is understood to exclude members of the Senate and the House of Representatives. The president’s power to grant pardons does not extend to officers who have been convicted through impeachment for offenses against the United States. Since the Federal government was established, there have only been eight impeachment trials before the United States Senate, and only two resulted in convictions: the trials of Judge John Pickering, a Federal District judge from New Hampshire, in 1803, for making decisions contrary to law and for being drunk and profane on the bench; and Judge W. H. Humphreys, a Federal District Court judge from Tennessee, in 1863, for making a speech advocating secession and for accepting a judicial position under the Confederate Government. The two most famous cases are those of Justice Samuel Chase of the United States Supreme Court in 1805 and President Andrew Johnson in 1868, who is the only president to have been impeached. There is disagreement over whether the House can impeach a Federal officer who has resigned and over what offenses can lead to impeachment; some experts argue that only indictable offenses justify impeachment, while others believe impeachment is justified for any action that significantly harms public welfare or undermines any essential principle of government. The House of Representatives adopted the latter view when it impeached President Johnson.


IMPERIAL CHAMBER (Reichskammergericht), the supreme judicial court of the Holy Roman Empire, during the period between 1495 and the dissolution of the Empire in 1806. From the early middle ages there had been a supreme court of justice for the Empire—the Hofgericht (or curia imperatoris, as it were), in which the emperor himself presided. By his side sat a body of assessors (Urtheilsfinder), who must be at least seven in number, and who might, in solemn cases, be far more numerous,1 the assessors who acted varying from time to time and from case to case. The Hofgericht was connected with the person of the emperor; it ceased to act when he was abroad; it died with his death. Upon him it depended for its efficiency; and when, in the 15th century, the emperor ceased to command respect, his court lost the confidence of his subjects. The dreary reign of Frederick III. administered its deathblow and after 1450 it ceased to sit. Its place was taken by the Kammergericht, which appeared side by side with the Hofgericht from 1415, and after 1450 replaced it altogether. The king (or his deputy) still presided in the Kammergericht and it was still his personal court; but the members of the court were now officials—the consiliarii of the imperial aula (or Kammer, whence the name of the court). It was generally the legal members of the council who sat in the Kammergericht (see under Aulic Council); and as they were generally doctors of civil law, the court which they composed tended to act according to that law, and thus contributed to the “Reception” of Roman law into Germany towards the end of the 15th century. The old Hofgericht had been filled, as it were, by amateurs (provided they knew some law, and were peers of the person under trial), and it had acted by old customary law; the Kammergericht, on the contrary, was composed of lawyers, and it acted by the written law of Rome. Even the Kammergericht, however, fell into disuse in the later years of the reign of Frederick III.; and the creation of a new and efficient court became a matter of pressing necessity, and was one of the most urgent of the reforms which were mooted in the reign of Maximilian I.

IMPERIAL CHAMBER (Reichskammergericht), the highest court of the Holy Roman Empire, existed from 1495 until the Empire dissolved in 1806. Since the early Middle Ages, there had been a supreme court for the Empire—the Hofgericht (or curia imperatoris), which the emperor himself presided over. Beside him sat a group of assessors (Urtheilsfinder), who had to consist of at least seven members, and in serious cases, this number could be much higher, with the assessors varying from case to case. The Hofgericht was directly linked to the emperor; it stopped functioning when he was away and ended with his death. Its effectiveness relied on him, and when, in the 15th century, respect for the emperor waned, his court lost the trust of the people. The gloomy reign of Frederick III. dealt it a fatal blow, and it stopped meeting after 1450. The Kammergericht then took its place, appearing alongside the Hofgericht from 1415, and completely replacing it after 1450. The king (or his deputy) still presided over the Kammergericht, and it remained his personal court; but its members were now officials—the consiliarii of the imperial aula (or Kammer, which is where the court got its name). Typically, the legal members of the council served in the Kammergericht (see under Aulic Council); since they were often doctors of civil law, the court they formed tended to follow that law, thus aiding the “Reception” of Roman law into Germany in the late 15th century. The old Hofgericht had been filled with amateurs (as long as they knew some law and were peers of those on trial), following traditional customary law; in contrast, the Kammergericht was made up of lawyers who operated according to written Roman law. However, even the Kammergericht fell into disuse in the later years of Frederick III.'s reign, making the establishment of a new and effective court a pressing necessity and one of the most urgent reforms discussed during Maximilian I.'s reign.

This new court was eventually created in 1495; and it bore the name of Reichskammergericht, or Imperial Chamber. It was distinguished from the old Kammergericht by the essential fact that it was not the personal court of the emperor, but the official court of the Empire (or Reich—whence its name). This change was a natural result of the peculiar character of the movement of reform which was at this time attempted by the electors, under the guidance of Bertold, elector of Mainz. Their aim was to substitute for the old and personal council and court appointed and controlled by the emperor a new and official council, and a new and official court, appointed and controlled by the diet (or rather, in the ultimate resort, by the electors). The members of the Imperial Chamber, which was created by the diet in 1495 in order to serve as such a court,2 were therefore the agents of the Empire, and not of the emperor. The emperor appointed the president; the Empire nominated the assessors, or judges.3 There were originally sixteen assessors (afterwards, as a rule, eighteen): half of these were to be doctors of Roman law, while half were to be knights; but after 1555 it became necessary that the latter should be learned in Roman law, even if they had not actually taken their doctorate.

This new court was eventually established in 1495 and was called the Reichskammergericht, or Imperial Chamber. It was different from the old Kammergericht because it wasn’t the personal court of the emperor; instead, it was the official court of the Empire (or Reich—hence its name). This change was a natural outcome of the unique reform movement that the electors were trying to implement at the time, guided by Bertold, elector of Mainz. Their goal was to replace the old personal council and court that were appointed and controlled by the emperor with a new official council and a new official court appointed and controlled by the diet (or more ultimately, by the electors). The members of the Imperial Chamber, created by the diet in 1495 to function as such a court,2 were therefore representatives of the Empire, not the emperor. The emperor appointed the president; the Empire nominated the assessors, or judges.3 There were originally sixteen assessors (later usually eighteen): half were to be experts in Roman law, and half were to be knights; but after 1555, it became necessary for the knights to be knowledgeable in Roman law, even if they hadn’t actually obtained their doctorate.

Thus the Empire at last was possessed of a court, a court resting on the enactment of the diet, and not on the emperor’s will; a court paid by the Empire, and not by the emperor; a court resident in a fixed place (until 1693, Spires, and afterwards, from 1693 to 1806, Wetzlar), and not attached to the emperor’s person. The original intention of the court was that it should repress private war (Fehde), and maintain the public peace (Landfriede). The great result which in the issue it served to achieve was the final “Reception” of Roman law as the common law of Germany. That the Imperial Chamber should itself administer Roman law was an inevitable result of its composition; and it was equally inevitable that the composition and procedure of the supreme imperial court should be imitated in the various states which composed the Empire, and that Roman law should thus become the local, as it was already the central, law of the land.

Thus, the Empire finally had a court that was established by the diet, not just at the emperor’s discretion; a court funded by the Empire rather than the emperor; a court located in a permanent place (first in Spires until 1693, and then in Wetzlar from 1693 to 1806), and not tied to the emperor personally. The original purpose of the court was to curb private wars (Fehde) and maintain public peace (Landfriede). Ultimately, it played a key role in the final "Reception" of Roman law as the common law of Germany. It was unavoidable that the Imperial Chamber would administer Roman law due to its structure; and it was equally inevitable that the structure and procedures of the supreme imperial court would influence the various states within the Empire, thus making Roman law the local, as it was already the central, law of the land.

The province of the Imperial Chamber, as it came to be gradually defined by statute and use, extended to breaches of the public peace, cases of arbitrary distraint or imprisonment, pleas which concerned the treasury, violations of the emperor’s decrees or the laws passed by the diet, disputes about property between immediate tenants of the Empire or the subjects of different rulers, and finally suits against immediate tenants of the Empire (with the exception of criminal charges and matters relating to imperial fiefs, which went to the Aulic Council). It 342 had also cognizance in cases of refusal to do justice; and it acted as a court of appeal from territorial courts in civil and, to a small extent, in criminal cases, though it lost its competence as a court of appeal in all territories which enjoyed a privilegium de non appellando (such as, e.g. the territories of the electors). The business of the court was, however, badly done; the delay was interminable, thanks, in large measure, to the want of funds, which prevented the maintenance of the proper number of judges. In all its business it suffered from the competition of the Aulic Council (q.v.); for that body, having lost all executive competence after the 16th century, had also devoted itself exclusively to judicial work. Composed of the personal advisers of the emperor, the Aulic Council did justice on his behalf (the erection of a court to do justice for the Empire having left the emperor still possessed of the right to do justice for himself through his consiliarii); and it may thus be said to be the descendant of the old Kammergericht. The competition between the Aulic Council and the Imperial Chamber was finally regulated by the treaty of Westphalia, which laid it down that the court which first dealt with a case should alone have competence to pursue it.

The province of the Imperial Chamber, as it was gradually defined by laws and practice, covered breaches of public peace, cases of wrongful seizure or imprisonment, issues related to the treasury, violations of the emperor’s decrees or laws passed by the diet, property disputes between immediate tenants of the Empire or subjects of different rulers, and lawsuits against immediate tenants of the Empire (except for criminal charges and matters concerning imperial fiefs, which were handled by the Aulic Council). It also had authority in cases where justice was refused; it acted as an appellate court for territorial courts in civil cases and, to a lesser extent, in criminal cases, though it lost its appellate jurisdiction in all territories that had a privilegium de non appellando (like, for instance, the territories of the electors). However, the court was not very effective; delays were endless, largely due to a lack of funding, which hindered maintaining the necessary number of judges. It faced competition from the Aulic Council (q.v.), as that body, having lost all executive power after the 16th century, focused solely on judicial functions. Made up of the emperor's personal advisers, the Aulic Council administered justice on his behalf (with the establishment of a court to administer justice for the Empire still leaving the emperor with the right to administer justice himself through his consiliarii); thus, it can be considered a descendant of the old Kammergericht. The competition between the Aulic Council and the Imperial Chamber was ultimately regulated by the treaty of Westphalia, which stated that the court that first handled a case would be the only one with jurisdiction to continue it.

See R. Schröder, Lehrbuch der deutschen Rechtsgeschichte (Leipzig, 1904); J. N. Harpprecht, Staatsarchiv des Reichskammergerichts (1757-1785); and G. Stobbe, Reichshofgericht und Reichskammergericht (Leipzig, 1878).

See R. Schröder, Textbook of German Legal History (Leipzig, 1904); J. N. Harpprecht, State Archives of the Imperial Chamber Court (1757-1785); and G. Stobbe, Imperial High Court and Imperial Chamber Court (Leipzig, 1878).

(E. Br.)

1 For instance, all the members of the diet might serve as Urtheilsfinder in a case like the condemnation of Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony, in the 12th century.

1 For example, all the members of the assembly could act as judges in a situation like the trial of Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony, in the 12th century.

2 The attempt to create a new and official council ultimately failed.

2 The effort to establish a new and official council ended up failing.

3 More exactly, the emperor nominates, according to the regular usage of later times, a certain number of members, partly as emperor, and partly as the sovereign of his hereditary estates; while the rest, who form the majority, are nominated partly by the electors and partly by the six ancient circles.

3 To be more precise, the emperor appoints a specific number of members, in accordance with later customs, both as emperor and as the ruler of his hereditary lands; while the remaining members, who make up the majority, are appointed partly by the electors and partly by the six ancient circles.


IMPERIAL CITIES OR TOWNS, the usual English translation of Reichsstädte, an expression of frequent occurrence in German history. These were cities and towns subject to no authority except that of the emperor, or German king, in other words they were immediate; the earliest of them stood on the demesne land of their sovereign, and they often grew up around his palaces. A distinction was thus made between a Reichsstadt and a Landstadt, the latter being dependent upon some prince, not upon the emperor direct. The term Freie Reichsstadt, which is sometimes used in the same sense as Reichsstadt, is rightly only applicable to seven cities, Basel, Strassburg, Spires, Worms, Mainz, Cologne and Regensburg. Having freed themselves from the domination of their ecclesiastical lords these called themselves Freistädte and in practice their position was indistinguishable from that of the Reichsstädte.

IMPERIAL CITIES OR TOWNS, is the common English translation of Reichsstädte, a term frequently found in German history. These were cities and towns that were directly under the authority of the emperor or German king, meaning they were immediate; the earliest of them were located on the lands owned by their sovereign and often developed around his palaces. Thus, a distinction was made between a Reichsstadt and a Landstadt, with the latter being dependent on a prince rather than the emperor directly. The term Freie Reichsstadt, which is sometimes used interchangeably with Reichsstadt, correctly applies only to seven cities: Basel, Strassburg, Spires, Worms, Mainz, Cologne, and Regensburg. Having liberated themselves from the control of their ecclesiastical lords, these cities referred to themselves as Freistädte, and in practice, their position was indistinguishable from that of the Reichsstädte.

In the middle ages many other places won the coveted position of a Reichsstadt. Some gained it by gift and others by purchase; some won it by force of arms, others usurped it during times of anarchy, while a number secured it through the extinction of dominant families, like the Hohenstaufen. There were many more free towns in southern than in northern Germany, but their number was continually fluctuating, for their liberties were lost much more quickly than they were gained. Mainz was conquered and subjected to the archbishop in 1462. Some free towns fell into the hands of various princes of the Empire and others placed themselves voluntarily under such protection. Some, like Donauwörth in 1607, were deprived of their privileges by the emperor on account of real, or supposed, offences, while others were separated from the Empire by conquest. In 1648 Besançon passed into the possession of Spain, Basel had already thrown in its lot with the Swiss confederation, while Strassburg, Colmar, Hagenau and others were seized by Louis XIV.

In the middle ages, many other places achieved the prized status of a Reichsstadt. Some received it as a gift, while others bought it; some earned it through military might, and others took it during chaotic times. A few gained it through the collapse of powerful families, like the Hohenstaufen. There were many more free towns in southern Germany than in the north, but their numbers were always changing, as they lost their freedoms much faster than they acquired them. Mainz was conquered and came under the archbishop's control in 1462. Some free towns fell into the hands of various princes of the Empire, while others chose to place themselves under such protection. Some, like Donauwörth in 1607, lost their privileges due to real or alleged offenses, and others were taken from the Empire through conquest. In 1648, Besançon was taken over by Spain, Basel had already allied with the Swiss confederation, and Strassburg, Colmar, Hagenau, and others were captured by Louis XIV.

Meanwhile the free towns had been winning valuable privileges in addition to those which they already possessed, and the wealthier among them, like Lübeck and Augsburg, were practically imperia in imperio, waging war and making peace, and ruling their people without any outside interference. But they had also learned that union is strength. They formed alliances among themselves, both for offence and for defence, and these Städtebünde had an important influence on the course of German history in the 14th and 15th centuries. These leagues were frequently at war with the ecclesiastical and secular potentates of their district and in general they were quite able to hold their own in these quarrels. The right of the free towns to be represented in the imperial diet was formally recognized in 1489, and about the same time they divided themselves into two groups, or benches, the Rhenish and the Swabian. By the peace of Westphalia in 1648 they were formally constituted as the third college of the diet. A list drawn up in 1422 mentions 75 free cities, another drawn up in 1521 mentions 84, but at the time of the French Revolution the number had decreased to 51. At this time the Rhenish free cities were: Cologne, Aix-la-Chapelle, Lübeck, Worms, Spires, Frankfort-on-the-Main, Goslar, Bremen, Hamburg, Mühlhausen, Nordhausen, Dortmund, Friedberg and Wetzlar. The Swabian free cities were: Regensburg, Augsburg, Nuremberg, Ulm, Esslingen, Reutlingen, Nördlingen, Rothenburg-on-the-Tauber, Schwäbisch-Hall, Rottweil, Ueberlingen, Heilbronn, Memmingen, Gmünd, Dinkelsbühl, Lindau, Biberach, Ravensburg, Schweinfurt, Kempten, Windsheim, Kaufbeuern, Weil, Wangen, Isny, Pfullendorf, Offenburg, Leutkirch, Wimpfen, Weissenburg, Giengen, Gengenbach, Zell, Buchorn, Aalen, Buchau and Bopfingen. But a large proportion of them had as little claim to their exceptional positions as the pocket boroughs of Great Britain and Ireland had before the passing of the Reform Bill of 1832.

Meanwhile, the free towns had been gaining valuable privileges on top of what they already had, and the wealthier ones, like Lübeck and Augsburg, were essentially imperia in imperio, conducting their own wars, making peace, and ruling their people without outside interference. They also realized that there was strength in unity. They formed alliances for both offense and defense, and these Städtebünde had a significant impact on the course of German history in the 14th and 15th centuries. These leagues often went to war with the regional ecclesiastical and secular leaders and were generally quite capable of holding their own in such conflicts. The right of the free towns to be represented in the imperial diet was officially acknowledged in 1489, and around the same time, they split into two groups, or benches: the Rhenish and the Swabian. By the peace of Westphalia in 1648, they were formally established as the third college of the diet. A list created in 1422 names 75 free cities, another from 1521 lists 84, but by the time of the French Revolution, the number had dropped to 51. At that time, the Rhenish free cities included: Cologne, Aix-la-Chapelle, Lübeck, Worms, Spires, Frankfort-on-the-Main, Goslar, Bremen, Hamburg, Mühlhausen, Nordhausen, Dortmund, Friedberg, and Wetzlar. The Swabian free cities included: Regensburg, Augsburg, Nuremberg, Ulm, Esslingen, Reutlingen, Nördlingen, Rothenburg-on-the-Tauber, Schwäbisch-Hall, Rottweil, Ueberlingen, Heilbronn, Memmingen, Gmünd, Dinkelsbühl, Lindau, Biberach, Ravensburg, Schweinfurt, Kempten, Windsheim, Kaufbeuern, Weil, Wangen, Isny, Pfullendorf, Offenburg, Leutkirch, Wimpfen, Weissenburg, Giengen, Gengenbach, Zell, Buchorn, Aalen, Buchau, and Bopfingen. However, a large portion of them had as little claim to their exceptional positions as the pocket boroughs of Great Britain and Ireland did before the Reform Bill of 1832.

By the peace of Lunéville in 1801 Cologne, Aix-la-Chapelle, Worms and Spires were taken by France, and by the decision of the imperial deputation of 1803 six cities only: Hamburg, Lübeck, Bremen, Augsburg, Frankfort-on-Main and Nuremberg, were allowed to keep their Reichsfreiheit, or in other words to hold directly of the Empire. This number was soon further reduced. On the dissolution of the Empire in 1806 Augsburg and Nuremburg passed under the sovereignty of Bavaria, and Frankfort was made the seat of a duchy for Karl Theodor von Dalberg, elector and archbishop of Mainz, who was appointed prince primate of the Confederation of the Rhine. When the German Confederation was established in 1815 Hamburg, Lübeck, Bremen and Frankfort were recognized as free cities, and the first three hold that position in the modern German empire; but Frankfort, in consequence of the part it took in the war of 1866, lost its independence and was annexed by Prussia.

By the peace of Lunéville in 1801, Cologne, Aix-la-Chapelle, Worms, and Spires were taken by France. According to the decision made by the imperial deputation in 1803, only six cities—Hamburg, Lübeck, Bremen, Augsburg, Frankfort-on-Main, and Nuremberg—were allowed to maintain their Reichsfreiheit, which means they could hold directly from the Empire. This number soon decreased further. When the Empire was dissolved in 1806, Augsburg and Nuremberg came under Bavaria's control, and Frankfort became the seat of a duchy for Karl Theodor von Dalberg, the elector and archbishop of Mainz, who was made the prince primate of the Confederation of the Rhine. When the German Confederation was established in 1815, Hamburg, Lübeck, Bremen, and Frankfort were recognized as free cities; the first three still hold that status in the modern German empire, but Frankfort lost its independence and was annexed by Prussia due to its involvement in the war of 1866.

In the earlier years of their existence the free cities were under the jurisdiction of an imperial officer, who was called the Reichsvogt or imperial advocate, or sometimes the Reichsschultheiss or imperial procurator. As time went on many of the cities purchased the right of filling these offices with their own nominees; and in several instances the imperial authority fell practically into desuetude except when it was stirred into action by peculiar circumstances. The internal constitution of the free cities was organized after no common model, although several of them had a constitution drawn up in imitation of that of Cologne, which was one of the first to assert its independence.

In the early years of their existence, the free cities were governed by an imperial officer known as the Reichsvogt or imperial advocate, and sometimes the Reichsschultheiss or imperial procurator. Over time, many of the cities bought the right to choose their own candidates for these positions; in several cases, the imperial authority became practically obsolete unless prompted by special circumstances. The internal structure of the free cities was organized in various ways, although several of them adopted a constitution modeled after that of Cologne, which was one of the first to declare its independence.

For the history of the free cities, see J. J. Moser, Reichsstädtisches Handbuch (Tübingen, 1732); D. Hänlein, Anmerkungen über die Geschichte der Reichsstädte (Ulm, 1775); A. Wendt, Beschreibung der kaiserlichen freien Reichsstädte (Leipzig, 1804); G. W. Hugo, Die Mediatisirung der deutschen Reichsstädte (Carlsruhe, 1838); G. Waitz, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte (Kiel, 1844 fol.); G. L. von Maurer, Geschichte der Städteverfassung in Deutschland (Erlangen, 1869-1871); W. Arnold, Verfassungsgeschichte der deutschen Freistädte (Gotha, 1854); P. Brülcke, Die Entwickelung der Reichsstandschaft der Städte (Hamburg, 1881); A. M. Ehrentraut, Untersuchungen über die Frage der Frei- und Reichsstädte (Leipzig, 1902); and S. Rietschel, Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der deutschen Stadtverfassung (Leipzig, 1905). See also the article Commune.

For the history of the free cities, see J. J. Moser, Reichsstädtisches Handbuch (Tübingen, 1732); D. Hänlein, Anmerkungen über die Geschichte der Reichsstädte (Ulm, 1775); A. Wendt, Beschreibung der kaiserlichen freien Reichsstädte (Leipzig, 1804); G. W. Hugo, Die Mediatisirung der deutschen Reichsstädte (Carlsruhe, 1838); G. Waitz, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte (Kiel, 1844 fol.); G. L. von Maurer, Geschichte der Städteverfassung in Deutschland (Erlangen, 1869-1871); W. Arnold, Verfassungsgeschichte der deutschen Freistädte (Gotha, 1854); P. Brülcke, Die Entwickelung der Reichsstandschaft der Städte (Hamburg, 1881); A. M. Ehrentraut, Untersuchungen über die Frage der Frei- und Reichsstädte (Leipzig, 1902); and S. Rietschel, Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der deutschen Stadtverfassung (Leipzig, 1905). See also the article Commune.

(A. W. H.*)

IMPEY, SIR ELIJAH (1732-1809), chief justice of Bengal, was born on the 13th of June 1732, and educated at Westminster with Warren Hastings, who was his intimate friend throughout life. In 1773 he was appointed the first chief justice of the new supreme court at Calcutta, and in 1775 presided at the trial of Nuncomar (q.v.) for forgery, with which his name has been chiefly connected in history. His impeachment was unsuccessfully attempted in the House of Commons in 1787, and he is accused by Macaulay of conspiring with Hastings to commit a judicial murder; but the whole question of the trial of Nuncomar has been examined in detail by Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, who states that “no man ever had, or could have, a fairer trial than Nuncomar, and Impey in particular behaved 343 with absolute fairness and as much indulgence as was compatible with his duty.”

IMPEY, SIR ELIJAH (1732-1809), the chief justice of Bengal, was born on June 13, 1732, and educated at Westminster alongside Warren Hastings, who remained a close friend throughout his life. In 1773, he was appointed the first chief justice of the new supreme court in Calcutta, and in 1775, he presided over the trial of Nuncomar (q.v.) for forgery, which has become the main historical event associated with him. His impeachment was unsuccessfully attempted in the House of Commons in 1787, and Macaulay accused him of conspiring with Hastings to carry out a judicial murder; however, Sir James Fitzjames Stephen thoroughly examined the trial of Nuncomar and concluded that “no man ever had, or could have, a fairer trial than Nuncomar, and Impey in particular behaved 343 with absolute fairness and as much indulgence as was compatible with his duty.”

See E. B. Impey, Sir Elijah Impey (1846); and Sir James Stephen, The Story of Nuncomar and the Impeachment of Sir Elijah Impey (1885).

See E. B. Impey, Sir Elijah Impey (1846); and Sir James Stephen, The Story of Nuncomar and the Impeachment of Sir Elijah Impey (1885).


IMPHAL, the capital of the state of Manipur (q.v.) in eastern Bengal and Assam, on the north-east frontier of India, situated at the confluence of three rivers. Pop. (1901) 67,903. It is really only a collection of villages buried amid trees, with a clearing containing the palace of the raja, the cantonments, and the houses of the few European residents.

IMPHAL,, the capital of Manipur (q.v.) in eastern Bengal and Assam, on the northeastern border of India, is located at the meeting point of three rivers. Population (1901) was 67,903. It’s basically just a cluster of villages surrounded by trees, with an open area that has the raja's palace, the military encampments, and the homes of the few European residents.


IMPLEMENT (Lat. implementum, a filling up, from implere, to fill), in ordinary usage, a tool, especially in the plural for the set of tools necessary for a particular trade or for completing a particular piece of work (see TOOLS). It is also the most general term applied to the weapons and tools that remain of those used by primitive man. The Late Lat. implementum, more usually in the plural, implementa, was used for all the objects necessary to stock or “fill up” a house, farm, &c.; it was thus applied to furniture of a house, the vestments and sacred vessels of a church, and to articles of clothing, &c. The transition to the necessary outfit of a trade, &c., is easy. In its original Latin sense of “filling up,” the term survives in Scots law, meaning full performance or “fulfilment” of a contract, agreement, &c.; “to implement” is thus also used in Scots law for to carry out, perform.

IMPLEMENT (Lat. implementum, meaning to fill, from implere, to fill), in everyday language, refers to a tool, especially when talking about the set of tools needed for a specific job or trade (see TOOLS). It’s also the most general term for the weapons and tools left over from primitive times. The Late Latin implementum, more commonly in the plural as implementa, referred to all the items required to equip or “fill” a house, farm, etc.; it was thus used for household furniture, the vestments and sacred vessels of a church, and clothing items, etc. The shift to the necessary equipment for a trade or profession is straightforward. In its original Latin meaning of “filling up,” the term is still used in Scots law to indicate the complete performance or “fulfilment” of a contract or agreement; therefore, “to implement” is also used in Scots law to mean to carry out or perform.


IMPLUVIUM, the Latin term for the sunk part of the floor in the atrium of a Greek or Roman house, which was contrived to receive the water passing through the compluvium (q.v.) of the roof. The impluvium was generally in marble and sunk about a foot below the floor of the atrium.

IMPLUVIUM, is the Latin term for the lowered section of the floor in the atrium of a Greek or Roman house, designed to collect the rainwater that came through the compluvium (q.v.) in the roof. The impluvium was usually made of marble and was set about a foot below the atrium floor.


IMPOSITION (from Lat. imponere, to place or lay upon), in ecclesiastical usage, the “laying on” of hands by a bishop at the services of confirmation and ordination as a sign that some special spiritual gift is conferred, or that the recipient is set apart for some special service or work. The word is also used of the levying of a burdensome or unfair tax or duty, and of a penalty, and hence is applied to a punishment task given to a schoolboy. From “impose” in the sense of “to pass off” on some one, imposition means also a trick or deception. In the printing trade the term is used of the arrangement of pages of type in the “forme,” being one of the stages between composing and printing.

IMPOSITION (from Lat. imponere, to place or lay upon), in ecclesiastical context, refers to the “laying on” of hands by a bishop during confirmation and ordination services as a sign that a special spiritual gift is given, or that the recipient is designated for a specific service or task. The term is also used to describe the imposition of a heavy or unfair tax or duty, as well as a penalty, and is therefore related to a punishment assigned to a schoolboy. From the meaning of “impose” as in “to pass off” onto someone, imposition also signifies a trick or deception. In the printing industry, the term describes the arrangement of typesetting pages in the “forme,” marking one of the steps between composing and printing.


IMPOST (through the O. Fr. from Lat. impositum, a thing laid upon another; the modern French is impôt), a tax or tribute, and particularly a duty levied on imported or exported merchandise (see Taxation, Customs Duties, Excise, &c.). In architecture, “impost” (in German Kaempfer) is a term applied in Italian to the doorpost, but in English restricted to the upper member of the same, from which the arch springs. This may either be in the same plane as the arch mould or projecting and forming a plain band or elaborately moulded, in which case the mouldings are known as impost mouldings. Sometimes the complete entablature of a smaller order is employed, as in the case of the Venetian or Palladian window, where the central opening has an arch resting on the entablature of the pilasters which flank the smaller window on each side. In Romanesque and Gothic work the capitals with their abaci take the place of the impost mouldings.

IMPOST (from Old French derived from Latin impositum, meaning a thing laid upon another; modern French is impôt), refers to a tax or tribute, specifically a duty charged on goods that are imported or exported (see Taxation, Customs Duties, Excise, etc.). In architecture, “impost” (in German Kaempfer) is a term used in Italian to describe the doorpost but in English it specifically refers to the upper part of that post from which the arch starts. This can either be on the same level as the arch profile or can project out to create a plain band or a decorative moulding; in the latter case, the mouldings are known as impost mouldings. Sometimes, the full entablature of a smaller order is used, as seen in the Venetian or Palladian window, where the central opening has an arch resting on the entablature of the pilasters flanking the smaller window on each side. In Romanesque and Gothic architecture, the capitals with their abaci take the place of the impost mouldings.


IMPOTENCE (Lat. impotentia, want of power), the term used in law for the inability of a husband or wife to have marital intercourse. In English matrimonial law if impotence exists in either of the parties to a marriage at the time of its solemnization the marriage is voidable ab initio. A suit for nullity on the ground of impotence can only be brought by the party who suffers the injury. Third persons—however great their interest—cannot sue for a decree on this ground, nor can a marriage be impeached after the death of one of the parties. The old rule of the ecclesiastical courts was to require a triennial cohabitation between the parties prior to the institution of the suit, but this has been practically abrogated (G. v. G., 1871, L.R. 2 P.C.D. 287). In suits for nullity on the ground of impotence, medical evidence as to the condition of the parties is necessary and a commission of two medical inspectors is usually appointed by the registrar of the court for the purpose of examining the parties; such cases are heard in camera. In the United States impotence is a ground for nullity in most states. In Germany it is recognized as a ground for annulment, but not so in France.

IMPOTENCE (Lat. impotentia, lack of power), refers to the inability of a husband or wife to engage in sexual intercourse. Under English matrimonial law, if either spouse is impotent at the time of marriage, the marriage can be annulled ab initio. Only the injured party can file a suit for nullity based on impotence. Third parties—no matter how much they are affected—cannot sue for this reason, and a marriage cannot be challenged after one party's death. The previous rule from ecclesiastical courts required a three-year cohabitation before bringing the case, but this has largely been eliminated (G. v. G., 1871, L.R. 2 P.C.D. 287). In nullity suits based on impotence, medical evidence about the parties' condition is needed, and typically, two medical inspectors are appointed by the court registrar to examine the parties; these cases are heard in camera. In the United States, impotence is a valid ground for annulment in most states. In Germany, it is recognized as a reason for annulment, but this is not the case in France.


IMPRESSIONISM. The word “Impressionist” has come to have a more general application in England than in France, where it took currency as the nickname of a definite group of painters exhibiting together, and was adopted by themselves during the conflict of opinion which the novelty of their art excited. The word therefore belongs to the class of nicknames or battle-names, like “Romanticist,” “Naturalist,” “Realist,” which preceded it, words into which the acuteness of controversy infuses more of theoretical purport than the work of the artists denoted suggests to later times. The painters included in such a “school” differ so much among themselves, and so little from their predecessors compared with the points of likeness, that we may well see in these recurring effervescences of official and popular distaste rather the shock of individual force in the artist measured against contemporary mediocrity than the disturbance of a new doctrine. The “Olympia” of Manet, hooted at the Salon of 1865 as subversive of all tradition, decency and beauty, strikes the visitor to the Luxembourg rather as the reversion to a theme of Titian by an artist of ruder vision than as the demonstration of a revolutionary in painting. Later developments of the school do appear to us revolutionary. With this warning in a matter still too near us for final judgment, we may give some account of the Impressionists proper, and then turn to the wider significance sometimes given to the name.

IMPRESSIONISM. The term “Impressionist” has become more widely used in England than in France, where it was originally a nickname for a specific group of painters who exhibited together and adopted the term during the debates sparked by their new style of art. This term falls into the category of nicknames or labels, similar to “Romanticist,” “Naturalist,” and “Realist,” which came before it. These names often carry more theoretical weight from the intense discussions they inspired than what the actual work of the artists suggests to later audiences. The painters within this “school” vary greatly from one another and share only slight similarities with their predecessors, which indicates that the backlash from critics and the public is more about the clash of individual artistic talent against the mediocrity of the time rather than a true shift in artistic philosophy. Manet’s “Olympia,” which was ridiculed at the Salon of 1865 for supposedly undermining tradition, decency, and beauty, now seems more like a rougher interpretation of a theme by Titian rather than an avant-garde statement in painting. However, later developments within this movement do appear to be revolutionary. With this caution in mind, as the subject is still fresh for final judgment, we can provide some insights into the true Impressionists and then explore the broader implications sometimes associated with the term.

The words Impressioniste, Impressionisme, are said to have arisen from a phrase in the preface to Manet’s catalogue of his pictures exhibited in 1867 during the Exposition Universelle, from which he was excluded. “It is the effect,” he wrote, “of sincerity to give to a painter’s works a character that makes them resemble a protest, whereas the painter has only thought of rendering his impression.” An alternative origin is a catalogue in which Claude Monet entitled a picture of sunrise at sea “Une Impression.” The word was probably much used in the discussions of the group, and was caught up by the critics as characteristic.1 At the earlier date the only meaning of the word was a claim for individual liberty of subject and treatment. So far as subject went, most, though not all of Manet’s pictures were modern and actual of his Paris, for his power lay in the representation of the thing before his eye, and not in fanciful invention. His simplicity in this respect brought him into collision with popular prejudice when, in the “Déjeuner sur l’herbe” (1863), he painted a modern fête champêtre. The actual characters of his painting at this period, so fancifully reproached and praised, may be grouped under two heads. (1) The expression of the object by a few carefully chosen values in flattish patches. Those patches are placed side by side with little attenuation of their sharp collision. This simplification of colour and tone recalls by its broad effects of light and silhouette on the one hand Velasquez, on the other the extreme simplification made by the Japanese for the purposes of colour-printing. Manet, like the other painters of his group, was influenced by these newly-discovered works of art. The image, thus treated, has remarkable hardiness and vigour, and also great decorative breadth. Its vivacity and intensity of aspect is gained by the sacrifice of many minor gradations, and by the judgment with which the leading values have been determined. This matching of values produces, technically, a “solid” painting, without glazing or elaborate transparency in shadows. (2) During this period Manet makes constant progress towards a fair, clear colour. In his early work the patches of blond colour are relieved against black shadows; later these shadows clear up, and in place of an indeterminate brown sauce we find 344 shadows that are colours. A typical picture of this period is the “Musique aux Tuileries,” refused by the Salon of 1863. In this we have an actual out-of-doors scene rendered with a frankness and sharp taste of contemporary life surprising to contemporaries, with an elision of detail in the treatment of a crowd and a seizing on the chief colour note and patch that characterize each figure equally surprising, an effort finally to render the total high-pitched gaiety of the spectacle as a banquet of sunlight and colour rather than a collection of separate dramatic groups.

The terms Impressioniste and Impressionisme are said to have originated from a phrase in the preface to Manet’s catalogue of his paintings shown in 1867 during the Exposition Universelle, from which he was excluded. “It is the effect,” he wrote, “of sincerity to give a painter’s works a quality that makes them feel like a protest, while the painter has only aimed to capture his impression.” Another possible origin comes from a catalogue where Claude Monet titled a painting of a sunrise at sea “Une Impression.” The term was likely commonly used in the group's discussions and picked up by critics as representative. 1 At that earlier time, the only meaning of the word was a claim for individual freedom regarding subject matter and style. In terms of subject matter, most, though not all, of Manet’s paintings depicted modern and actual scenes of his Paris, as his strength lay in capturing what he saw rather than in imaginative creation. His straightforward approach led to conflicts with popular opinion when he painted a modern fête champêtre in “Déjeuner sur l’herbe” (1863). The distinctive characteristics of his paintings from this period, which were fancifully criticized and admired, can be categorized into two main points. (1) The representation of the subject through a few carefully chosen color patches that appear flat. These patches are placed next to each other with minimal blending at their edges. This simplification of color and tone evokes the broad effects of light and silhouette seen in Velasquez’s work and the extreme simplifications used by Japanese artists for color printing. Manet, like other artists in his group, was influenced by these newly discovered artworks. The resulting image has notable strength and vigor, as well as a significant decorative quality. Its liveliness and intensity come from sacrificing many subtle gradations and making careful decisions about the main color values. This matching of values results in a “solid” painting, free of glazing or intricate transparency in the shadows. (2) During this period, Manet continually improved towards achieving clear, bright colors. In his early works, patches of light color stand out against dark shadows; later, these shadows become clearer, and instead of an indistinct brown mass, we see shadows that are in themselves colors. A typical painting from this period is “Musique aux Tuileries,” which was rejected by the Salon of 1863. In this piece, we have an actual outdoor scene depicted with a frankness and sharp sense of contemporary life that surprised those at the time, with a reduction of detail in the portrayal of a crowd and a focus on the main color note and patch that define each figure, equally surprising, ultimately seeking to capture the overall vibrant joy of the scene as a celebration of sunlight and color rather than as a series of separate dramatic groups.

For life of Édouard Manet (1832-1883) see Edmond Bazire, Manet (Paris, 1884). An idea of the state of popular feeling may be gained by reading Zola’s eloquent defence in Mon Salon, which appeared in L’Événement (1866) and Édouard Manet (1867), both reprinted in Mes Haines (Paris, 1880). The same author has embodied many of the impressionist ideals in Claude Lantier, the fictitious hero of L’Œuvre. Other writers belonging to Manet’s group are Théodore Duret, author of Les Peintres français en 1867 and Critique d’avant-garde, articles and catalogue-prefaces reprinted 1885. See also, for Manet and others, J. K. Huysman’s L’Art moderne (1883) and Certains. Summaries of the literature of the whole period will be found in R. Muther, The History of Modern Painting (tr. London, 1896), not always trustworthy in detail, and Miss R. G. Kingsley, A History of French Art (1899). For an interesting critical account see W. C. Brownell, French Art (1892).

For the life of Édouard Manet (1832-1883), check out Edmond Bazire's Manet (Paris, 1884). To get a sense of how people felt at the time, read Zola’s powerful defense in Mon Salon, which was published in L’Événement (1866) and Édouard Manet (1867), both included in Mes Haines (Paris, 1880). The same author captured many impressionist ideas in Claude Lantier, the fictional main character of L’Œuvre. Other writers associated with Manet include Théodore Duret, who wrote Les Peintres français en 1867 and Critique d’avant-garde, which are collections of articles and catalogue prefaces reprinted in 1885. Also see J. K. Huysman’s L’Art moderne (1883) and Certains for insights on Manet and others. Summaries of the entire period's literature can be found in R. Muther's The History of Modern Painting (translated in London, 1896), which isn’t always reliable in details, and Miss R. G. Kingsley's A History of French Art (1899). For a compelling critical overview, check out W. C. Brownell's French Art (1892).

The second period, to which the name is sometimes limited, is complicated by the emergence of new figures, and it is difficult as yet, and perhaps will always remain difficult, to say how much of originality belongs to each artist in the group. The main features are an intenser study of illumination, a greater variety of illuminations, and a revolution in facture with a view to pressing closer to a high pitch of light. Manet plays his part in this development, but we shall not be wrong probably in giving to Claude Monet (b. 1840) the chief rôle as the instinctive artist of the period, and to Camille Pissarro (b. 1830) a very large part as a painter, curious in theory and experiment. Monet at the early date of 1866 had painted a picture as daring in its naïve brutality of out-of-door illumination as the “Déjeuner sur l’herbe.” But this picture has the breadth of patch, solidity and suavity of paste of Manet’s practice. During the siege of Paris (1870-71) Monet and Pissarro were in London, and there the study of Turner’s pictures enlarged their ideas of the pitch in lighting and range of effect possible in painting, and also suggested a new handling of colour, by small broken touches in place of the large flowing touches characteristic of Manet. This method of painting occupied much of the discussion of the group that centred round Manet at the Café Guerbois, in the Batignolles quarter (hence called L’École de Balignolles). The ideas were: (1) Abolition of conventional brown tonality. But all browns, in the fervour of this revolt, went the way of conventional brown, and all ready-made mixtures like the umbers, ochres, siennas were banished from the palette. Black itself was condemned. (2) The idea of the spectrum, as exhibiting the series of “primary” or “pure” colours, directed the reformed palette. Six colours, besides white, were admitted to represent the chief hues of the spectrum. (3) These colours were laid on the canvas with as little previous mixture on the palette as possible to maintain a maximum of luminosity, and were fused by touch on the canvas as little as possible, for the same reason. Hence the “broken” character of the touch in this painting, and the subordination of delicacies of form and suave continuity of texture to the one aim of glittering light-and-colour notation. Justification of these procedures was sought in occasional features of the practice of E. Delacroix, of Watteau, of J. B. Chardin, in the hatchings of pastel, the stipple of water-colour. With the ferment of theory went a parti pris for translating all effects into the upper registers of tone (cf. Ruskin’s chapter on Turner’s practice in Modern Painters), and for emphasizing the colour of shadows at the expense of their tone. The characteristic work of this period is landscape, as the subject of illumination strictly observed and followed through the round of the day and of the seasons. Other pictorial motives were subordinated to this research of effect, and Monet, with a haystack, group of poplars, or church front, has demonstrated the variety of lighting that the day and the season bring to a single scene. Besides Pissarro, Alfred Sisley (1840-1899) is a member of the group, and Manet continues his progress, influenced by the new ideas in pictures like “Le Linge” and “Chez le Père Lathuille.”

The second period, which is often referred to by this name, is complicated by the emergence of new artists, and it’s hard to determine how much originality each artist in the group contributes. The main features include a more intense study of light, a wider variety of lighting effects, and a significant change in technique aimed at achieving a higher level of brightness. Manet plays a role in this development, but it's probably fair to give Claude Monet (b. 1840) the leading role as the instinctive artist of the period, and Camille Pissarro (b. 1830) a significant role as a painter curious about theory and experimentation. Monet, as early as 1866, created a painting that was as bold in its raw portrayal of outdoor light as “Déjeuner sur l’herbe.” However, this painting shares the expansive patches, solidity, and smoothness typical of Manet’s work. During the siege of Paris (1870-71), Monet and Pissarro were in London, where studying Turner’s paintings expanded their understanding of the potential brightness and range of effects in painting, and inspired a new way to handle color using small broken touches instead of the large flowing strokes characteristic of Manet. This painting method became a major topic of discussion among the group surrounding Manet at the Café Guerbois in the Batignolles district, which is why it was called L’École de Balignolles. The ideas included: (1) The rejection of traditional brown tones. In the enthusiasm of this revolt, all browns were dismissed, and all pre-mixed colors like umbers, ochres, and siennas were removed from the palette. Even black was rejected. (2) The concept of the spectrum, featuring the series of “primary” or “pure” colors, guided the new palette. Six colors, along with white, were accepted to represent the main hues of the spectrum. (3) These colors were applied to the canvas with minimal mixing on the palette to maintain maximum brightness, and they were blended as little as possible on the canvas itself for the same reason. This led to the “broken” quality of the brushwork in this style of painting, prioritizing the effects of light and color over delicacies of form and smooth texture. Justification for these methods was found in occasional elements of the techniques used by E. Delacroix, Watteau, and J. B. Chardin, as well as in the hatchings of pastels and stippling of watercolors. Alongside this theoretical excitement was a commitment to translating all effects into the upper tonal registers (see Ruskin’s chapter on Turner’s methods in Modern Painters), and to highlighting the color of shadows at the expense of their tone. The main focus of this period’s artwork is landscape, as the subject of light is closely observed throughout the day and across the seasons. Other pictorial themes were secondary to this exploration of effects, and Monet, with images of haystacks, groups of poplars, or a church facade, demonstrated the variety of lighting that different times of day and seasons can bring to a single scene. Besides Pissarro, Alfred Sisley (1840-1899) is part of the group, and Manet continues to evolve, influenced by these new ideas in works like “Le Linge” and “Chez le Père Lathuille.”

Edmond Degas (b. 1834), a severe and learned draughtsman, is associated with this landscape group by his curiosity in the expression of momentary action and the effects of artificial illumination, and by his experiments in broken colour, more particularly in pastel. The novelty of his matter, taken from unexplored corners of modern life, still more the daring and irony of his observation and points of view, and the strangeness of his composition, strongly influenced by Japanese art, enriched the associations now gathering about the word “impressionist.” Another name, that of Auguste Renoir (b. 1841), completes the leading figures of the group. Any “school” programme would be strained to breaking-point to admit this painter, unless on the very general grounds of love of bright colour, sunlit places and independence of vision. He has no science of drawing or of tone, but wins a precarious charm of colour and expression.

Edmond Degas (b. 1834), a serious and knowledgeable draftsman, is linked to this landscape group due to his interest in capturing fleeting moments and the impact of artificial light, as well as his experiments with broken color, especially in pastel. The freshness of his subjects, drawn from unexplored aspects of modern life, along with the boldness and irony of his viewpoints and the uniqueness of his compositions—greatly influenced by Japanese art—significantly enriched the associations now forming around the term “impressionist.” Another key figure in this group is Auguste Renoir (b. 1841). Any “school” agenda would struggle to accommodate this artist, except on the broad basis of his love for bright colors, sunny places, and independent perspectives. He lacks a formal understanding of drawing or tone but achieves a fragile charm in his use of color and expression.

The landscape, out-of-doors line, which unites in this period with Manet’s line, may be represented by these names: J. B. Corot, J. B. Jongkind, Boudin, Monet. Monet’s real teacher was Eugène Boudin (1824-1898), (See Gustave Cahen’s Eugène Boudin, Paris, 1900). They, and others of the group, worked together in a painters’ colony at Saint Simeon, near Honfleur. It is usual to date the origin of plein-air painting, i.e. painting out-of-doors, in an out-of-doors key of tone, from a picture Manet painted in the garden of de Nittis, just before the outbreak of war in 1870. This dates only Manet’s change to the lighter key and looser handling. It was Monet who carried the practice to a logical extreme, working on his canvas only during the effect and in its presence. The method of Degas is altogether different, viz., a combination in the studio from innumerable notes and observations. It will be evident from what has been said above that impressionistic painting is an artistic ferment, corresponding to the scientific research into the principles of light and colour, just as earlier movements in painting coincided with the scientific study of perspective and anatomy. Chevreul’s famous book, already referred to, De la loi du contraste simultané des couleurs (1838), established certain laws of interaction for colours adjacent to one another. He still, however, referred the sensations of colour to the three impossible “primaries” of Brewster—red, blue and yellow. The Young-Helmholtz theory affected the palette of the Impressionists, and the work of Ogden Rood, Colour (Internat. Scientific Series, 1879-1881), published in English, French and German, furnished the theorists with formulae measuring the degradation of pitch suffered by pigments in mixture.

The outdoor landscape style, which blends during this time with Manet’s style, can be represented by these names: J. B. Corot, J. B. Jongkind, Boudin, and Monet. Monet’s true mentor was Eugène Boudin (1824-1898), (See Gustave Cahen’s Eugène Boudin, Paris, 1900). They, along with others in the group, collaborated in an artists' community at Saint Simeon, near Honfleur. It's typical to trace the origins of plein-air painting, meaning painting outdoors with an outdoor tonal approach, back to a piece Manet created in de Nittis' garden just before the war broke out in 1870. This only marks Manet's shift to a lighter tone and more relaxed brushwork. It was Monet who pushed this practice to its limits, only painting on his canvas in the moment and in the presence of the scene. Degas’ approach is quite different, as he combines countless notes and observations in the studio. From the above, it's clear that impressionistic painting is a vibrant artistic movement, paralleling scientific research into the principles of light and color, much like earlier art movements coincided with the scientific study of perspective and anatomy. Chevreul’s renowned book, previously mentioned, De la loi du contraste simultané des couleurs (1838), established certain laws regarding how colors interact when placed next to each other. However, he still attributed color sensations to the three impossible “primaries” defined by Brewster—red, blue, and yellow. The Young-Helmholtz theory influenced the palette of the Impressionists, and Ogden Rood’s work, Colour (Internat. Scientific Series, 1879-1881), which was published in English, French, and German, provided theorists with formulas measuring the changes in tone experienced by pigments when mixed.

The Impressionist group (with the exception of Manet, who still fought for his place in the Salon) exhibited together for the first time as L’Exposition des Impressionistes at Nadar’s, Boulevard des Capucines, in 1874. They were then taken up by the dealer Durand-Ruel, and the succeeding exhibitions in 1876, 1877, 1879, 1880, 1881, 1882 and 1886 were held by him in various galleries. The full history of these exhibitions, with the names of the painters, will be found in two works: Félix-Fénéon, Les Impressionistes en 1886 (Paris, 1886), and G. Geffroy, La Vie artistique (“Histoire de l’impressionisme,” in vol. for 1894). See also G. Lecomte, L’Art impressionists d’après la collection privée de M. Durand-Ruel (Paris, 1892); Duranty, La Peinture nouvelle (1876). Besides the names already cited, some others may be added: Madame Berthe Morisot, sister-in-law of Manet; Paul Cézanne, belonging to the Manet-Pissarro group; and, later, Gauguin. J. F. Raffaëlli applied a “characteristic” drawing, to use his word, to scenes in the dismal suburbs of Paris; Forain, the satiric draughtsman, was a disciple of Degas, as also Zandomeneghi. Miss Mary Cassatt was his pupil. Caillebotte, who bequeathed the collection of Impressionist paintings now in the Luxembourg, was also an exhibitor; and Boudin, who linked the movement to the earlier schools.

The Impressionist group (except for Manet, who continued to fight for his spot in the Salon) exhibited together for the first time as L’Exposition des Impressionistes at Nadar’s, Boulevard des Capucines, in 1874. They were then supported by dealer Durand-Ruel, and subsequent exhibitions in 1876, 1877, 1879, 1880, 1881, 1882, and 1886 were held by him in various galleries. The complete history of these exhibitions, along with the names of the artists, can be found in two books: Félix-Fénéon, Les Impressionistes en 1886 (Paris, 1886), and G. Geffroy, La Vie artistique (“Histoire de l’impressionisme,” in the volume for 1894). Also see G. Lecomte, L’Art impressionists d’après la collection privée de M. Durand-Ruel (Paris, 1892); Duranty, La Peinture nouvelle (1876). In addition to the names already mentioned, a few others can be added: Madame Berthe Morisot, Manet's sister-in-law; Paul Cézanne, who was part of the Manet-Pissarro group; and later, Gauguin. J. F. Raffaëlli used a “characteristic” drawing, as he called it, to depict scenes in the grim suburbs of Paris; Forain, the satirical draftsman, was a student of Degas, as were Zandomeneghi and Miss Mary Cassatt, who was his pupil. Caillebotte, who left behind the collection of Impressionist paintings now at the Luxembourg, was also an exhibitor, and Boudin, who connected the movement to earlier schools.

The first exhibitions of the Impressionists in London were in 1882 and 1883, but their fortunes there cannot be pursued in the present article, nor the history of the movement beyond its originators. This excludes notable figures, of which M. Besnard may be chosen as a type.

The first Impressionist exhibitions in London took place in 1882 and 1883, but we can't explore their impact there in this article, nor delve into the movement's history beyond its founders. This leaves out key figures, for example, M. Besnard, who can be selected as a representative.

In Manet’s painting, even in the final steps he took towards “la peinture claire,” there is nothing of the “decomposition of tones” that logically followed from the theories of his followers. He recognized the existence in certain illuminations of the violet shadow, and he adopted in open-air work a looser and more broken touch. The nature of his subjects encouraged such a handling, for the painter who attempts to note from nature the colour values of an elusive effect must treat form in a summary fashion, still more so when the material is in constant movement like water. Moreover, in the river-side subjects 345 near Paris there was a great deal that was only pictorially tolerable when its tone was subtracted from the details of its form. Monet’s painting carries the shorthand of form and broken colour to extremity; the flowing touch of Manet is chopped up into harsher, smaller notes of tone, and the pitch pushed up till all values approach the iridescent end of the register. It was in 1886 that the doctrinaire ferment came to a head, and what was supposed to be a scientific method of colour was formulated. This was pointillisme, the resolution of the colours of nature back into six bands of the rainbow or spectrum, and their representation on the canvas by dots of unmixed pigment. These dots, at a sufficient distance, combine their hues in the eye with the effect of a mixture of coloured lights, not of pigments, so that the result is an increase instead of a loss of luminosity. There are several fallacies, however, theoretical and practical, in this “spectral palette” and pointillist method. If we depart from the three primaries of the Helmholtz hypothesis, there is no reason why we should stop at six hues instead of six hundred. But pigments follow the spectrum series so imperfectly that the three primaries, even if we could exactly locate them, limit the palette considerably in its upper range. The sacrifice of black is quite illogical, and the lower ranges suffer accordingly. Moreover, it is doubtful whether many painters have followed the laws of mixture of lights in their dotting, e.g. dotting green and red together to produce yellow. It may be added that dotting with oil pigment is in practice too coarse and inaccurate a method. This innovation of pointillisme is generally ascribed to George Seurat (d. 1890), whose picture, “La Grande Jatte,” was exhibited at the Rue Laffitte in 1886. Pissarro experimented in the new method, but abandoned it, and other names among the Pointillistes are Paul Signac, Vincent van Gogh, and van Rysselberghe. The theory opened the way for endless casuistries, and its extravagances died out in the later exhibition of the Indépendants or were domesticated in the Salon by painters like M. Henri Martin.

In Manet’s painting, even in the final steps he took towards “la peinture claire,” there is nothing of the “decomposition of tones” that logically followed from the theories of his followers. He recognized that in certain lighting conditions, there were violet shadows, and he adopted a looser and more broken style in his outdoor work. The nature of his subjects called for such an approach, as a painter trying to capture the color values of a fleeting effect from nature must handle form in a simplified way, especially when the material, like water, is in constant motion. Furthermore, in the river-side scenes near Paris, a lot of what was only visually acceptable required removing tone from the details of its form. Monet’s painting pushed the shorthand of form and broken color to the extreme; Manet’s fluid touch was broken into harsher, smaller notes of tone, and the intensity increased until all values were close to the iridescent end of the spectrum. It was in 1886 that the doctrinaire movement reached its peak, and what was meant to be a scientific method of color was developed. This was pointillism, the breakdown of the colors of nature into six bands of the rainbow or spectrum, represented on the canvas by dots of unmixed pigment. These dots, when viewed from a distance, mix their colors in the eye, creating the effect of a mixture of colored lights rather than pigments, resulting in an increase rather than a decrease in luminosity. However, there are several theoretical and practical fallacies in this “spectral palette” and pointillist method. If we deviate from the three primary colors of the Helmholtz hypothesis, there’s no reason to limit ourselves to six hues instead of six hundred. Pigments align with the spectrum series so imperfectly that the three primary colors, even if correctly identified, considerably restrict the upper range of the palette. Eliminating black is quite illogical, and the lower ranges suffer as a result. Additionally, it’s questionable whether many painters have adhered to the laws of light mixing in their dotting, for example, combining green and red to produce yellow. It can also be noted that dotting with oil paint is often too rough and imprecise a method in practice. This innovation of pointillism is generally credited to George Seurat (d. 1890), whose painting “La Grande Jatte” was displayed at Rue Laffitte in 1886. Pissarro tried out this new method but eventually abandoned it, with other notable names among the Pointillistes including Paul Signac, Vincent van Gogh, and van Rysselberghe. The theory led to endless debates, and its excesses faded in later exhibitions of the Indépendants or were adapted in the Salon by artists like M. Henri Martin.

The first modern painter to concern himself scientifically with the reactions of complementary colours appears to have been Delacroix (J. Leonardo, it should be remembered, left some notes on the subject). It is claimed for Delacroix that as early as 1825 he observed and made use of these reactions, anticipating the complete exposition of Chevreul. He certainly studied the treatise, and his biographers describe a dial-face he constructed for reference. He had quantities of little wafers of each colour, with which he tried colour effects, a curious anticipation of pointillist technique. The pointillists claim him as their grandfather. See Paul Signac, “D’Eugène Delacroix au Néo-Impressionnisme” (Revue Blanche, 1898). For a fuller discussion of the spectral palette see the Saturday Review, 2nd, 9th and 23rd February and 23rd March 1901.

The first modern painter to scientifically study the reactions of complementary colors was Delacroix (it’s worth noting that J. Leonardo left some notes on this topic). Delacroix is said to have observed and utilized these reactions as early as 1825, ahead of Chevreul's full explanation. He definitely studied the treatise, and his biographers mention a color wheel he created for reference. He had a collection of small color wafers that he experimented with for color effects, which was an intriguing early version of pointillist technique. The pointillists consider him their predecessor. See Paul Signac, “From Eugène Delacroix to Neo-Impressionism” (Revue Blanche, 1898). For a more detailed discussion on the spectral palette, see the Saturday Review, February 2nd, 9th, and 23rd, and March 23rd, 1901.

In England the ideas connected with the word Impressionism have been refracted through the circumstances of the British schools. The questions of pitch of light and iridescent colour had already arisen over the work of Turner, of the Pre-Raphaelites, and also of G. F. Watts, but less isolated and narrowed, because the art of none of these limited itself to the pursuit of light. Pointillisme, after a fashion, existed in British water-colour practice. But the Pre-Raphaelite school had accustomed the English eye to extreme definition in painting and to elaboration of detail, and it happened that the painting of James M’Neill Whistler (Grosvenor Gallery, 1878) brought the battle-name Impressionism into England and gave it a different colour. Whistler’s method of painting was in no way revolutionary, and he preferred to transpose values into a lower key rather than compete with natural pitch, but his vision, like that of Manet under the same influences, Spanish and Japanese, simplified tone and subordinated detail. These characteristics raised the whole question of the science and art of aspect in modern painting, and the field of controversy was extended backwards to Velasquez as the chief master of the moderns. “Impressionism” at first had meant individualism of vision, later the notation of fugitive aspects of light and of movement; now it came to mean breadth in pictorial vision, all the simplifications that arise from the modern analysis of aspect, and especially the effect produced upon the parts of a picture-field by attending to the impression of the whole. Ancient painting analyses aspect into three separate acts as form, tone and colour. All forms are made out with equal clearness by a conventional outline; over this system of outlines a second system of light and shade is passed, and over this again a system of colours. Tone is conceived as a difference of black or white added to the tints, and the colours are the definite local tints of the objects (a blue, a red, a yellow, and so forth). In fully developed modern painting, instead of an object analysed into sharp outlines covered with a uniform colour darkened or lightened in places, we find an object analysed into a number of surfaces or planes set at different angles. On each of these facets the character of the object and of the illumination, with accidents of reflection, produces a patch called by modern painters a “value,” because it is colour of a particular value or tone. (With each difference of tone, “value” implies a difference of hue also, so that when we speak of a different tone of the same colour we are using the word “same” in a loose or approximate sense.) These planes or facets define themselves one against another with greater or less sharpness. Modern technique follows this modern analysis of vision, and in one act instead of three renders by a “touch” of paint the shape and value of these facets, and instead of imposing a uniform ideal outline at all their junctions, allows these patches to define themselves against one another with variable sharpness.

In England, the concepts related to the word Impressionism have been filtered through the context of British art schools. The issues of light intensity and vibrant color had already emerged in the works of Turner, the Pre-Raphaelites, and G. F. Watts, but these artists weren’t as isolated or constrained, since none of them limited their approach to just light. Pointillism, in a way, existed in British water-color practices. However, the Pre-Raphaelite movement had trained the English eye to expect extreme clarity in painting and intricate details. It was James M’Neill Whistler’s exhibition at the Grosvenor Gallery in 1878 that introduced the term Impressionism to England, giving it a new context. Whistler’s painting technique wasn’t revolutionary; he leaned towards simplifying values rather than competing with the natural intensity of light. His perspective, much like that of Manet influenced by Spanish and Japanese styles, emphasized simplified tones and downplayed detail. These traits brought forward the debate around the science and art of appearance in contemporary painting, pushing the discussion back to Velasquez as a primary influence for modern artists. Initially, “Impressionism” referred to individual vision, evolving to include the depiction of fleeting aspects of light and movement. Over time, it came to represent a broader pictorial vision, incorporating all the simplifications emerging from modern interpretations of appearance, especially the overall effect of attending to the impression of the whole. Traditional painting breaks down appearance into three distinct elements: shape, tone, and color. All shapes are distinctly outlined by a conventional contour; over this outline, a layer of light and shade is applied, followed by a color layer. Tone is viewed as a variation of black or white added to hues, with colors representing specific local hues of objects, like blue, red, or yellow. In fully developed modern art, instead of an object defined by sharp outlines covered in a uniform color that’s shaded or highlighted, we see an object described through multiple surfaces or planes angled differently. Each facet reflects the character of the object and the lighting, along with reflections creating a color patch known as a “value” in modern art, which refers to a particular tone or hue. (With each tonal difference, “value” also indicates a variation in hue, so when we discuss a different tone of the same color, we’re using “same” loosely.) These surfaces or facets define themselves relative to one another with varying degrees of sharpness. Modern techniques align with this contemporary understanding of vision, representing shape and value of these facets with a single application of paint rather than in three steps, allowing these patches to delineate against each other with varying sharpness.

Blurred definition, then, as it exists in our natural view of things, is admitted into painting; a blurring that may arise from distance, from vapour or smoke, from brilliant light, from obscurity, or simply from the nearness in value of adjacent objects. Similarly, much detail that in primitive art is elaborated is absorbed by rendering the aspect instead of the facts known to make up that aspect. Thus hair and fur, the texture of stuffs, the blades of grass at a little distance, become patches of tone showing only their larger constructive markings. But the blurring of definitions and the elimination of detail that we find in modern pictorial art are not all of this ready-made character. We have so far only the scientific analysis of a field of view. If the painter were a scientific reporter he would have to pursue the systems of planes, with their shapes and values, to infinity. Impressionism is the art that surveys the field and determines which of the shapes and tones are of chief importance to the interested eye, enforces these, and sacrifices the rest. Construction, the logic of the object rendered, determines partly this action of the eye, and also decoration, the effects of rhythm in line and harmony in fields of colour. These motives belong to all art, but the specially impressionist motive is the act of attention as it affects the aspect of the field. We are familiar, in the ordinary use of the eye, with two features of its structure that limit clearness of vision. There is, first, the spot of clear vision on the retina, outside of which all falls away into blur; there is, secondly, the action of focus. As the former limits clear definition to one spot in the field extended vertically and laterally, so focus limits clear definition to one plane in the third dimension, viz. depth. If three objects, A, B and C, stand at different depths before the eye, we can at will fix A, whereupon B and C must fall out of focus, or B, whereupon A and C must be blurred, or C, sacrificing the clearness of A and B. All this apparatus makes it impossible to see everything at once with equal clearness, enables us, and forces us for the uses of real life, to frame and limit our picture, according to the immediate interest of the eye, whatever it may be. The painter instinctively uses these means to arrive at the emphasis and neglect that his choice requires. If he is engaged on a face he will now screw his attention to a part and now relax it, distributing the attention over the whole so as to restore the bigger relations of aspect. Sir Joshua Reynolds describes this process as seeing the whole “with the dilated eye”; the commoner precept of the studios is “to look with the eyes half closed”; a third way is to throw the whole voluntarily out of focus. In any case the result is that minor planes are swamped in bigger, that smaller patches of colour are swept up into broader, that markings are blurred. The final result of these tentative reviews records, in what is blurred and what is clear, the attention that has been distributed 346 to different parts, and to parts measured against the whole. The Impressionist painter does not allot so much detail to a face in a full-length portrait as to a head alone, nor to twenty figures on a canvas as to one. Again, he indicates by his treatment of planes and definitions whether the main subject of his picture is in the foreground or the distance. He persuades the eye to slip over hosts of near objects so that, as in life, it may hit a distant target, or concentrate its attack on what is near, while the distance falls away into a dim curtain. All those devices by which attention is directed and distributed, and the importance in space of an object established, affect impressionistic composition.

Blurred definition, as it appears in our natural view of things, is incorporated into painting; this blurring can come from distance, smoke or vapor, bright light, shadow, or simply from the similarity in value of nearby objects. Similarly, much of the detail that is elaborated in primitive art is absorbed by capturing the appearance instead of the facts that create that appearance. So, hair and fur, the texture of fabrics, and blades of grass viewed from a distance become patches of tone that show only their broader structural features. However, the blurring of definitions and the removal of detail found in modern pictorial art aren’t entirely pre-made. So far, we have only a scientific analysis of a field of vision. If the painter were a scientific observer, he would have to pursue the systems of planes, with their shapes and values, infinitely. Impressionism is the art that surveys the field and identifies which shapes and tones are most important to the interested eye, emphasizes these, and sacrifices the rest. The construction, the logic behind the object being represented, partly influences this action of the eye, as does decoration, the effects of rhythm in line and harmony in color fields. These principles apply to all art, but the distinct impressionist focus is on the act of attention as it influences the appearance of the field. We are aware, in the ordinary use of our eyes, of two features of its structure that limit clarity of vision. First, there's the spot of clear vision on the retina, outside of which everything fades into blur; secondly, there’s the action of focus. While the former limits clear definition to one spot across the field both vertically and horizontally, focus limits clear definition to one plane in depth. If three objects, A, B, and C, are at different depths in front of the eye, we can choose to focus on A, causing B and C to go out of focus, or focus on B, which causes A and C to blur, or focus on C, sacrificing the clarity of A and B. This system makes it impossible to see everything at once with equal clarity, enabling us, and forcing us for practical life, to frame and limit our view based on what most interests the eye at that moment. The painter instinctively uses these methods to achieve the emphasis and neglect required by his choices. If he’s working on a face, he will focus his attention on a specific part and then relax it, spreading his attention across the entire face to regain a sense of the overall appearance. Sir Joshua Reynolds describes this process as seeing the whole “with the dilated eye,” while the common advice in studios is “to look with the eyes half closed”; another approach is to intentionally blur the entire scene. Either way, the outcome is that smaller planes blend into larger ones, small patches of color merge into broader ones, and markings get softened. The final outcome of these careful reviews reflects, in what is blurred and what is clear, the attention that has been distributed to different areas and how those areas relate to the whole. An Impressionist painter doesn’t assign as much detail to a face in a full-length portrait as he does to just a head, nor to twenty figures on a canvas as to one. Additionally, he indicates through his handling of planes and definitions whether the main subject of his painting is in the foreground or the distance. He guides the eye to skim past many nearby objects so that, like in real life, it can target something far away, or concentrate on something close while the distance fades into a vague background. All of these techniques that direct and distribute attention, and establish the spatial importance of an object, influence impressionistic composition.

It is an inevitable misunderstanding of painting which plays the game of art so closely up to the real aspects of nature that its aim is that of mere exact copying. Painting like Manet’s, accused of being realistic in this sense, sufficiently disproves the accusation when examined. Never did painting show a parti pris more pronounced, even more violent. The elisions and assertions by which Manet selects what he finds significant and beautiful in the complete natural image are startling to the stupid realist, and the Impressionist may best be described as the painter who out of the completed contents of vision constructs an image moulded upon his own interest in the thing seen and not on that of any imaginary schoolmaster. Accepting the most complex terms of nature with their special emotions, he uses the same freedom of sacrifice as the man who at the other end of the scale expresses his interest in things by a few scratches of outline. The perpetual enemy of both is the eclectic, who works for possible interests not his own.

It’s a common misconception about painting that it closely mimics the real aspects of nature, aiming solely for exact reproduction. Manet’s painting, often criticized for being realistic in this way, clearly refutes that claim upon closer examination. There has never been a painting with a more pronounced, even more intense, perspective. The choices and emphases Manet makes in highlighting what he deems significant and beautiful in the full natural image are shocking to those who see themselves as pure realists. The Impressionist can best be described as the artist who, from the totality of visual experience, creates an image shaped by their own interests in what they see, rather than trying to please some imaginary critic. Embracing the intricate details of nature and their unique emotions, he demonstrates the same willingness to simplify as someone on the opposite end of the spectrum who captures their interest with just a few strokes of an outline. The constant adversary of both is the eclectic, who caters to interests that aren’t genuinely their own.

Some of the points touched on above will be found amplified in articles by the writer in The Albemarle (September 1892), the Fortnightly Review (June 1894), and The Artist (March-July 1896). An admirable exposition of Impressionism in this sense is R. A. M. Stevenson’s The Art of Velasquez (1895). Mr Stevenson was trained in the school of Carolus Duran, where impressionist painting was reduced to a system. Mr Sargent’s painting is a brilliant example of the system.

Some of the points mentioned earlier will be further explored in articles by the author in The Albemarle (September 1892), the Fortnightly Review (June 1894), and The Artist (March-July 1896). A great explanation of Impressionism in this context is R. A. M. Stevenson’s The Art of Velasquez (1895). Mr. Stevenson was trained in the school of Carolus Duran, where impressionist painting was turned into a method. Mr. Sargent’s painting is an excellent example of this method.

(D. S. M.)

1 Mr H. P. Hain Friswell has pointed out that the word “impression” occurs frequently in Chevreul’s book on colour; but it is also current among the critics. See Ruskin’s chapter on Turner’s composition—“impression on the mind.”

1 Mr. H. P. Hain Friswell has noted that the word "impression" appears often in Chevreul’s book on color; however, it’s also commonly used by critics. Check out Ruskin’s chapter on Turner’s composition—“impression on the mind.”


IMPRESSMENT, the name given in English to the exercise of the authority of the state to “press”1 or compel the service of the subject for the defence of the realm. Every sovereign state must claim and at times exercise this power. The “drafting” of men for service in the American Civil War was a form of impressment. All the monarchical, or republican, governments of Europe have employed the press at one time or another. All forms of conscription, including the English ballot for the militia, are but regulations of this sovereign right. In England impressment may be looked upon as an erratic, and often oppressive, way of enforcing the common obligation to serve in “the host” or in the posse comitatus (power of the county). In Scotland, where the feudal organization was very complete in the Lowlands, and the tribal organization no less complete in the Highlands, and where the state was weak, impressment was originally little known. After the union of the two parliaments in 1707, no distinction was made between the two divisions of Great Britain. In England the kings of the Plantagenet dynasty caused Welshmen to be pressed by the Lords Marchers, and Irish kerns to be pressed by the Lords Deputy, for their wars in France. Complaints were made by parliament of the oppressive use of this power as early as the reign of Edward III., but it continued to be exercised. Readers of Shakespeare will remember Sir John Falstaff’s commission to press soldiers, and the manner, justified no doubt by many and familiar examples of the way in which the duty was performed. A small sum called imprest-money, or coat and conduct money, was given to the men when pressed to enable them to reach the appointed rendezvous. Soldiers were secured in this way by Queen Elizabeth, by King Charles I., and by the parliament itself in the Civil War. The famous New Model Army of Cromwell was largely raised by impressment. Parliament ordered the county committees to select recruits of “years meet for their employment and well clothed.” After the Revolution of 1688 parliament occasionally made use of this resource. In 1779 a general press of all rogues and vagabonds in London to be drafted into the regiments was ordered. It is said that all who were not too lame to run away or too destitute to bribe the parish constable were swept into the net. As they were encouraged to desert by the undisguised connivance of the officers and men who were disgusted with their company, no further attempt to use the press for the army was made.

IMPRESSMENT, is the term used in English to describe the government's authority to “press”1 or force individuals into service for the protection of the country. Every sovereign state must claim and sometimes exercise this power. The "drafting" of people for service during the American Civil War was a form of impressment. Every monarchical or republican government in Europe has used impressment at some point. All types of conscription, including the English ballot for the militia, are simply regulations of this sovereign right. In England, impressment can be seen as an erratic and often oppressive way of enforcing the common duty to serve in “the host” or in the posse comitatus (power of the county). In Scotland, where the feudal system was well-established in the Lowlands and tribal organization was equally strong in the Highlands, impressment was originally not very common due to the state's weakness. After the union of the two parliaments in 1707, no distinction was made between the two regions of Great Britain. In England, the kings of the Plantagenet dynasty had Welshmen pressed by the Lords Marchers and Irish kerns pressed by the Lords Deputy for their wars in France. Complaints from parliament about the oppressive use of this power date back to the reign of Edward III., yet it continued. Readers of Shakespeare will recall Sir John Falstaff’s commission to press soldiers, along with the many familiar examples of how this duty was carried out. A small amount known as imprest-money, or coat and conduct money, was given to the men when pressed to help them reach the designated meeting point. Soldiers were recruited in this way by Queen Elizabeth, King Charles I., and by parliament during the Civil War. Cromwell's famous New Model Army was largely formed through impressment. Parliament directed the county committees to select recruits of “suitable age for their service and well clothed.” After the Revolution of 1688, parliament occasionally used this method. In 1779, a general press of all rogues and vagabonds in London was ordered to be drafted into the regiments. It is said that anyone who wasn’t too lame to run away or too poor to bribe the parish constable was caught in the net. With the officers and men who were dissatisfied with their situation encouraging desertion, there was no further attempt to use impressment for the army.

A distinction between the liability of sailors and of other men dates from the 16th century. From an act of Philip and Mary (1556) it appears that the watermen of the Thames claimed exemption from the press as a privileged body. They were declared liable, and the liability was clearly meant to extend to service as a soldier on shore. In the fifth year of Queen Elizabeth (1563) an act was passed to define the liability of the sailors. It is known as “an Act touching politick considerations for the maintenance of the Navy.” By its term all fishermen and mariners were protected from being compelled “to serve as any soldiers upon the Land or upon the Sea, otherwise than as a mariner, except it shall be to serve under any Captain of some ship or vessel, for landing to do some special exploit which mariners have been used to do.” The operation of the act was limited to ten years, but it was renewed repeatedly, and was at last indefinitely prolonged in the sixteenth year of the reign of Charles I. (1631). By the Vagrancy Act of the close of Queen Elizabeth’s reign (1597), disorderly serving-men and other disreputable characters, of whom a formidable list is given, were declared to be liable to be impressed for service in the fleet. The “Takers,” as they were called in early times, the Press Gang of later days, were ordered to present their commission to two justices of the peace, who were bound to pick out “such sufficient number of able men, as in the said commission shall be contained, to serve Her Majesty as aforesaid.” The justices of the peace in the coast districts, who were often themselves concerned in the shipping trade, were not always zealous in enforcing the press. The pressed sailors often deserted with the “imprest money” given them. Loud complaints were made by the naval officers of the bad quality of the men sent up to serve in the king’s ships. On the other hand, the Press Gangs were accused of extorting money, and of making illegal arrests. In the reign of Queen Anne (1703) an act was passed “for the increase of Seamen and the better encouragement of navigation, and the protection of the Coal Trade.” The act which gave parish authorities power to apprentice boys to the sea exempted the apprentices from the press for three years, and until the age of eighteen. It especially reaffirmed the part of the Vagrancy Act of Elizabeth’s reign which left rogues and vagabonds subject to be pressed for the sea service. By the act for the “Increase of Mariners and Seamen to navigate Merchant Ships and other trading ships or vessels,” passed in the reign of George II. (1740), all men over fifty-five were exempted from the press together with lads under eighteen, foreigners serving in British ships (always numerous in war time), and landsmen who had gone to sea during their first two years. The act for “the better supplying of the cities of London and Westminster with fish” gave exemption to all masters of fishing-boats, to four apprentices and one mariner to each boat, and all landsmen for two years, except in case of actual invasion. By the act for the encouragement of insurance passed in 1774, the fire insurance companies in London were entitled to secure exemption for thirty watermen each in their employment. Masters and mates of merchant vessels, and a proportion of men per ship in the colliers trading from the north to London, were also exempt.

A distinction between the liability of sailors and that of others dates back to the 16th century. An act from Philip and Mary (1556) shows that the watermen of the Thames claimed exemption from impressment as a privileged group. They were deemed liable, and this liability was clearly intended to include service as soldiers on land. In the fifth year of Queen Elizabeth (1563), an act was passed to define sailors' liability, known as “an Act for political considerations regarding the maintenance of the Navy.” According to this act, all fishermen and mariners were protected from being compelled “to serve as soldiers on land or at sea, except as a mariner, unless it was to serve under a Captain of a ship or vessel for a specific task that mariners were accustomed to doing.” The act was set to operate for ten years, but it was renewed multiple times and was eventually extended indefinitely in the sixteenth year of Charles I's reign (1631). By the Vagrancy Act at the end of Queen Elizabeth’s reign (1597), disorderly servants and other disreputable individuals, listed extensively, were declared liable to be impressed for service in the fleet. The “Takers,” as they were called in earlier times, later known as the Press Gang, were required to present their commission to two justices of the peace, who were obligated to select “an adequate number of able men, as specified in the commission, to serve Her Majesty as stated.” The justices in coastal areas, often involved in shipping themselves, weren’t always eager to enforce the press. The pressed sailors frequently deserted after receiving the “imprest money” given to them. Naval officers loudly complained about the poor quality of the men sent to serve in the king’s ships. On the flip side, the Press Gangs faced accusations of extorting money and making unlawful arrests. During Queen Anne's reign (1703), an act was passed "for the increase of Seamen and better encouragement of navigation, and the protection of the Coal Trade." This act allowed parish authorities to apprentice boys to the sea, exempting them from the press for three years and until they turned eighteen. It specifically reaffirmed the part of the Vagrancy Act from Elizabeth’s reign that left rogues and vagabonds subject to being pressed for sea service. The act for “the Increase of Mariners and Seamen to navigate Merchant Ships and other trading vessels,” passed under George II (1740), exempted all men over fifty-five along with boys under eighteen, foreigners serving in British ships (which were always numerous during wartime), and landsmen who had gone to sea within their first two years. The act aimed at “the better supplying of the cities of London and Westminster with fish” exempted all masters of fishing boats, four apprentices, and one mariner for each boat, as well as all landsmen for two years, unless there was an actual invasion. By the act encouraging insurance passed in 1774, fire insurance companies in London were allowed to secure exemptions for thirty watermen in their employ. Masters and mates of merchant vessels, along with a proportion of men per ship in colliers trading from the north to London, were also exempted.

Subject to such limitations as these, all seafaring men, and 347 watermen on rivers, were liable to be pressed between the ages of eighteen and fifty-five, and might be pressed repeatedly for so long as their liability lasted. The rogue and vagabond element were at the mercy of the justices of the peace. The frightful epidemics of fever which desolated the navy till late in the 18th century were largely due to the infection brought by the prisoners drafted from the ill-kept jails of the time. As service in the fleet was most unpopular with the sailors, the press could often only be enforced by making a parade of strength and employing troops. The men had many friends who were always willing to conceal them, and they themselves became expert in avoiding capture. There was, however, one way of procuring them which gave them no chance of evasion. The merchant ships were stopped at sea and the sailors taken out. This was done to a great extent, more especially in the case of homeward-bound vessels. On one occasion, in 1802, an East Indiaman on her way home was deprived of so many of her crew by a man of war in the Bay of Biscay that she was unable to resist a small French privateer, and was carried off as a prize with a valuable cargo. The press and the jails failed to supply the number of men required. In 1795 it was found necessary to impose on the counties the obligation to provide “a quota” of men, at their own expense. The local authorities provided the recruits by offering high bounties, often to debtors confined in the prisons. These desperate men were a very bad element in the navy. In 1797 they combined with the United Irishmen, of whom large numbers had been drafted into the fleet as vagabonds, to give a very dangerous political character to the mutinies at the Nore and on the south of Ireland. After the conclusion of the great Napoleonic wars in 1815 the power of the press was not again exercised. In 1835 an act was passed during Sir James Graham’s tenure of office as first lord of the admiralty, by which men who had once been pressed and had served for a period of five years were to be exempt from impressment in future. Sir James, however, emphatically reaffirmed the right of the crown to enforce the service of the subject, and therefore to impress the seamen. The introduction of engagements for a term of five years in 1853, and then of long service, has produced so large a body of voluntary recruits, and service in the navy is so popular, that the question has no longer any interest save an historical one. If compulsory service in the fleet should again become necessary it will not be in the form of the old system of impressment, which left the sailor subject to compulsory service from the age of eighteen to fifty-five, and flooded the navy with the scum of the jails and the workhouse.

Subject to these limitations, all sailors and 347 river workers were at risk of being pressed into service between the ages of eighteen and fifty-five, and could be pressed repeatedly for as long as their liability lasted. The rogue and vagabond group were at the mercy of the justices of the peace. The terrible fever outbreaks that plagued the navy until the late 18th century were largely due to infections brought in by prisoners taken from poorly maintained jails of the time. Since serving in the fleet was very unpopular among sailors, press gangs often had to show their strength and use troops to enforce it. Many sailors had friends who were always ready to hide them, and they became skilled at avoiding capture. However, there was one method of obtaining sailors that allowed for no chance of escape. Merchant ships were stopped at sea, and their sailors taken. This happened frequently, especially with ships returning home. In one instance, in 1802, an East Indiaman heading home lost so many crew members to a man-of-war in the Bay of Biscay that it couldn’t defend itself against a small French privateer, which captured it along with its valuable cargo. The press and the jails could not provide enough men. In 1795, it became necessary to require counties to supply “a quota” of men at their own expense. Local authorities recruited by offering high bounties, often targeting debtors stuck in prisons. These desperate men were a poor addition to the navy. In 1797, they joined forces with the United Irishmen, many of whom had also been drafted into the fleet as vagabonds, giving a dangerous political edge to the mutinies at the Nore and in southern Ireland. After the end of the great Napoleonic wars in 1815, the power of the press was not used again. In 1835, an act was passed during Sir James Graham’s term as first lord of the admiralty, exempting men who had been pressed and served for five years from further impressment. However, Sir James firmly reaffirmed the crown's right to enforce service and impress seamen. The introduction of five-year engagements in 1853, followed by long service, has led to a significant number of voluntary recruits, making service in the navy so popular that the issue is now only of historical interest. If compulsory service in the fleet were ever needed again, it would not resemble the old system of impressment, which forced sailors into service from eighteen to fifty-five and filled the navy with the dregs of prisons and workhouses.

Authorities.—Grose’s Military Antiquities, for the general subject of impressment, vol. ii. p. 73 et seq. S. R. Gardiner gives many details in his history of James I. and Charles I., and in The Civil War. The acts relating to the navy are quoted in A Collection of the Statutes relating to the Admiralty, &c., published in 1810. Some curious information is in the papers relating to the Brest Blockade edited by John Leyland for the Navy Record Society. Sir James Graham’s speech is in Hansard for 1835.

Authorities.—Grose’s Military Antiquities, for the overall topic of impressment, vol. ii. p. 73 and following. S. R. Gardiner provides many details in his history of James I. and Charles I., as well as in The Civil War. The laws connected to the navy are cited in A Collection of the Statutes relating to the Admiralty, etc., published in 1810. There’s some interesting information in the documents regarding the Brest Blockade edited by John Leyland for the Navy Record Society. Sir James Graham’s speech can be found in Hansard for 1835.

(D. H.)

1 It is now accepted generally that “to press” is a corruption of “prest,” as “impress” is of “imprest,” but the word was quite early connected with “press,” to squeeze, crush, hence to compel or force. The “prest” was a sum of money advanced (O. Fr. prester, modern prêter, to lend, Lat. praestare, to stand before, provide, become surety for, &c.) to a person to enable him to perform some undertaking, hence used of earnest money given to soldiers on enlistment, or as the “coat and conduct” money alluded to in this article. The methods of compulsion used to get men for military service naturally connected the word with “to press” (Lat. pressare, frequentative of premere) to force, and all reference to the money advanced was lost (see Skeat, Etym. Dict., 1898, and the quotation from H. Wedgwood, Dict. of Eng. Etym.).

1 It's now widely accepted that “to press” is a corruption of “prest,” just as “impress” is a corruption of “imprest.” However, the word was linked to “press” early on, meaning to squeeze or crush, and by extension, to compel or force. The term “prest” referred to a sum of money advanced (from O. Fr. prester, modern prêter, meaning to lend, and Lat. praestare, meaning to stand before, provide, or become surety for) to someone so they could undertake a task, which is why it was used for the earnest money given to soldiers upon enlistment, or the “coat and conduct” money mentioned in this article. The methods used to compel men into military service naturally connected the word to “to press” (Lat. pressare, a frequentative form of premere), meaning to force, and the original reference to the money advanced was eventually lost (see Skeat, Etym. Dict., 1898, and the quotation from H. Wedgwood, Dict. of Eng. Etym.).


IMPROMPTU (from in promptu, on the spur of the moment), a short literary composition which has not been, or is not supposed to have been, prepared beforehand, but owes its merit to the ready skill which produces it without premeditation. The word seems to have been introduced from the French language in the middle of the 17th century. Without question, the poets have, from earliest ages, made impromptus, and the very art of poetry, in its lyric form, is of the nature of a modified improvisation. It is supposed that many of the epigrams of the Greeks, and still more probably those of the Roman satirists, particularly Martial, were delivered on the moment, and gained a great part, at least, of their success from the evidence which they gave of rapidity of invention. But it must have been difficult then, as it has been since, to be convinced of the value of that evidence. Who is to be sure that, like Mascarille in Les Précieuses ridicules, the impromptu-writer has not employed his leisure in sharpening his arrows? James Smith received the highest praise for his compliment to Miss Tree, the cantatrice:—

IMPROMPTU (from in promptu, on the spur of the moment), a brief literary piece that's created spontaneously, without prior preparation, and is valued for the skill that allows it to be produced without planning. The term seems to have been borrowed from French in the mid-17th century. It's clear that poets have crafted impromptus since ancient times, and the very nature of lyrical poetry is akin to a refined form of improvisation. Many of the epigrams from the Greeks, and even more likely those of the Roman satirists, particularly Martial, were likely delivered spontaneously and derived much of their impact from the speed of their creation. However, it has always been challenging to truly appreciate that spontaneity. How can we be sure that, like Mascarille in Les Précieuses ridicules, the person crafting the impromptu hasn’t spent time perfecting their response? James Smith earned significant acclaim for his compliment to Miss Tree, the singer:—

On this tree when a nightingale settles and sings,

On this tree, when a nightingale perches and sings,

The Tree will return him as good as he brings.

The Tree will bring him back just as well as he brings.

This was extremely neat, but who is to say that James Smith had not polished it as he dressed for dinner? One writer owed all his fame, and a seat among the Forty Immortals of the French Academy, to the reputation of his impromptus. This was the Marquis François Joseph de St Aulaire (1643-1742). The piece which threw open the doors of the Academy to him in 1706 was composed at Sceaux, where he was staying with the duchess of Maine, who was guessing secrets, and who called him Apollo. St Aulaire instantly responded:—

This was really impressive, but who's to say that James Smith hadn't polished it up while getting ready for dinner? One writer owed all his success, and a place among the Forty Immortals of the French Academy, to his reputation for spontaneous works. This was the Marquis François Joseph de St Aulaire (1643-1742). The piece that opened the doors of the Academy to him in 1706 was created at Sceaux, where he was staying with the Duchess of Maine, who was trying to figure out secrets and nicknamed him Apollo. St Aulaire immediately replied:—

La divinité qui s’amuse

The playful deity

A me demander mon secret,

To ask me my secret,

Si j’étais Apollon, ne serait pas ma muse,

Si j’étais Apollon, ne serait pas ma muse,

Elle serait Thétis—et le jour finirait.

Elle serait Thétis—et le jour finirait.

This is undoubtedly as neat as it is impertinent, and if the duchess had given him no ground for preparation, this is typical of the impromptu at its best. Voltaire was celebrated for the savage wit of his impromptus, and was himself the subject of a famous one by Young. Less well known but more certainly extemporaneous is the couplet by the last-mentioned poet, who being asked to put something amusing in an album, and being obliged to borrow from Lord Chesterfield a pencil for the purpose, wrote:—

This is definitely as clever as it is rude, and if the duchess hadn't given him any reason to prepare, this is a perfect example of off-the-cuff brilliance. Voltaire was famous for the sharp humor of his spontaneous remarks, and he himself inspired a well-known one from Young. Less famous but certainly more spontaneous is the couplet by the latter poet, who, when asked to write something funny in an album and having to borrow a pencil from Lord Chesterfield to do so, wrote:—

Accept a miracle instead of wit,—

Accept a miracle instead of sarcasm,—

See two dull lines with Stanhope’s pencil writ.

See two boring lines written with Stanhope’s pencil.

The word “impromptu” is sometimes used to designate a short dramatic sketch, the type of which is Molière’s famous Impromptu du Versailles (1663), a miniature comedy in prose.

The word “impromptu” is sometimes used to refer to a short dramatic sketch, like Molière’s famous Impromptu du Versailles (1663), a brief comedy written in prose.


IMPROVISATORE, a word used to describe a poet who recites verses which he composes on the spur of the moment, without previous preparation. The term is purely Italian, although in that language it would be more correctly spelt improvvisatore. It became recognized as an English word in the middle of the eighteenth century, and is so used by Smollett in his Travels (1766); he defines an improvisatore as “an individual who has the surprising talent of reciting verses extempore, on any subject you propose.” In speaking of a woman, the female form improvisatrice is sometimes used in English.

IMPROVISER, a term used to refer to a poet who creates and recites verses spontaneously, without any prior preparation. It's an Italian word that would be spelled improvvisatore in that language. It became recognized in English in the mid-eighteenth century, and is used by Smollett in his Travels (1766); he defines an improvisatore as “a person who has the amazing ability to recite verses off the cuff, on any topic you suggest.” When referring to a woman, the female version improvisatrice is sometimes used in English.

Improvisation is a gift which properly belongs to those languages in which a great variety of grammatical inflections, wedded to simplicity of rhythm and abundance of rhyme, enable a poet to slur over difficulties in such a way as to satisfy the ear of his audience. In ancient times the greater part of the popular poetry with which the leisure of listeners was beguiled was of this rhapsodical nature. But in modern Europe it was the troubadours, owing to the extreme flexibility of the languages of Provence, who distinguished themselves above all others as improvisatores. It is difficult to believe, however, that the elaborate compositions of these poets, which have come down to us, in which every exquisite artifice of versification is taken advantage of, can have been poured forth without premeditation. These poets, we must rather suppose, took a pride in the ostentation of a prodigious memory, most carefully trained, and poured forth in public what they had laboriously learned by heart in private. The Italians, however, in the 16th century, cultivated what seems to have been a genuine improvisation, in which the bards rhapsodized, not as they themselves pleased, but on subjects which were unexpected by them, and which were chosen on the spot by their patrons. Of these, the most extraordinary is said to have been Silvio Antoniano (1540-1603), who from the age of ten was able to pour out melodious verse on any subject which was suggested to him. He was brought to Rome, where successive popes so delighted in his talent that in 1598 he was made a cardinal. In the 17th century the celebrated Metastasio first attracted attention by his skill as an improvisatore. But he was excelled by Bernardino Perfetti (1681-1747), who was perhaps the most extraordinary genius of this class who has ever lived. He was seized, in his moments of composition, with a transport which transfigured his whole person, and under this excitement he poured forth verses in a miraculous flow. It was his custom to be attended by a guitarist, who played a recitative accompaniment. In this way Perfetti made a triumphal procession through the cities of Italy, ending 348 up with the Capitol of Rome, where Pope Benedict XIII. crowned him with laurel, and created him a Roman citizen. One of the most remarkable improvisatores of modern times appeared in Sweden, in the person of Karl Mikael Bellman (1740-1795), who used to take up a position in the public gardens and parks of Stockholm, accompanying himself on a guitar, and treating metre and rhythm with a virtuosity and originality which place him among the leading poets of Swedish literature. In England, somewhat later, Theodore Hook (1788-1841) developed a surprising talent for this kind, but his verses were rarely of the serious or sentimental character of which we have hitherto spoken. Hook’s animal spirits were unfortunately mingled with vulgarity, and his clever jeux d’esprit had little but their smartness to recommend them. A similar talent, exercised in a somewhat more literary direction, made Joseph Méry (1798-1865) a delightful companion in the Parisian society of his day. It is rare indeed that the productions of the improvisatore, taken down in shorthand, and read in the cold light of criticism, are found to justify the impression which the author produced on his original audience. Imperfections of every kind become patent when we read these transcripts, and the reader cannot avoid perceiving weaknesses of style and grammar. The eye and voice of the improvisatore so hypnotize his auditors as to make them incapable of forming a sober judgment on matters of mere literature.

Improvisation is a talent that's really suited to languages with a wide range of grammatical variations, combined with a simple rhythm and plenty of rhymes, allowing a poet to smoothly handle challenges in a way that pleases their audience’s ears. In ancient times, most of the popular poetry that entertained listeners was of this spontaneous nature. However, in modern Europe, it was the troubadours, thanks to the incredible flexibility of the languages of Provence, who stood out as improvisers. It’s hard to believe, though, that the elaborate pieces of poetry we have from these poets, which use every beautiful trick of verse, were created on the spot without any prior thought. Instead, we should assume that these poets took pride in showcasing their impressive memories, which they carefully trained, sharing in public what they meticulously memorized in private. In the 16th century, Italians developed what seems to have been true improvisation, where bards would improvise not on topics of their choosing but on subjects picked unexpectedly by their patrons. Among these, Silvio Antoniano (1540-1603) is said to be the most remarkable, as he was able to produce melodious verse on any topic thrown at him from the age of ten. He was brought to Rome, where successive popes were so impressed with his talent that he was made a cardinal in 1598. In the 17th century, the famous Metastasio first gained attention for his skill in improvisation. However, he was outshone by Bernardino Perfetti (1681-1747), who was perhaps the most extraordinary genius of this kind to have ever lived. During moments of creativity, he would become so inspired that it transformed him completely, and in this excitement, he effortlessly produced verses. He usually had a guitarist with him, playing a recitative accompaniment. This way, Perfetti made a grand tour through the cities of Italy, culminating in the Capitol of Rome, where Pope Benedict XIII crowned him with laurel and made him a Roman citizen. One of the most notable improvisers of modern times was Karl Mikael Bellman (1740-1795) in Sweden, who would set up in public gardens and parks in Stockholm, playing the guitar and handling meter and rhythm with a skill and originality that places him among the top poets in Swedish literature. Later on in England, Theodore Hook (1788-1841) showed a surprising talent for this type of work, though his verses were rarely as serious or sentimental as those we’ve discussed. Unfortunately, Hook’s lively spirit mixed with vulgarity, and his clever wordplays often lacked any real substance. A similar talent, but with a more literary touch, made Joseph Méry (1798-1865) an enjoyable presence in the Parisian social scene of his time. It’s indeed rare for improvisers' works, which are recorded in shorthand and examined critically, to truly support the impression they made on their original audiences. Various flaws become obvious when we read these transcriptions, and the reader can't help but notice weaknesses in style and grammar. The sight and voice of the improviser so captivate their listeners that it makes them incapable of making a clear judgment about the literary quality.


IN-ANTIS, the architectural term given to those temples the entrance part of which consisted of two columns placed between the antae or pilasters (see Temple).

IN-ANTIS, is the architectural term for temples where the entrance features two columns situated between the antae or pilasters (see Temple).


INAUDI, JACQUES (1867-  ), Italian calculating prodigy, was born at Onorato, Piedmont, on the 15th of October 1867. When between seven and eight years old, at which time he was employed in herding sheep, he already exhibited an extraordinary aptitude for mental calculation. His powers attracted the notice of various showmen, and he commenced to give exhibitions. He was carefully examined by leading French scientists, including Charcot, from the physiological, psychological and mathematical point of view. The secret of his arithmetical powers appeared to reside in his extraordinary memory, improved by continuous practice. It appeared to depend upon hearing rather than sight, more remarkable results being achieved when figures were read out than when they were written.

INAUDI, JACQUES (1867-  ), Italian mathematical prodigy, was born in Onorato, Piedmont, on October 15, 1867. By the time he was seven or eight years old and working as a shepherd, he already showed an incredible talent for mental math. His skills caught the attention of various showmen, and he began performing in exhibitions. He was thoroughly evaluated by prominent French scientists, including Charcot, from physiological, psychological, and mathematical perspectives. The secret to his arithmetic skills seemed to lie in his exceptional memory, which was enhanced by constant practice. It appeared to rely more on hearing than sight, with better results when numbers were spoken aloud rather than written down.


INCANTATION, the use of words, spoken, sung or chanted, usually as a set formula, for the purpose of obtaining a result by their supposed magical power. The word is derived from the Latin incantare, to chant a magical formula; cf. the use of carmen, for such a formula of words. The Latin use is very early; thus it appears in a fragment of the XII. Tables quoted in Pliny (N.H. xxviii. 2, 4, 17), “Qui malum carmen incantasset.” From the O. Fr. derivative of incantare, enchanter, comes “enchant,” “enchantment,” &c., properly of the exercise of magical powers, hence to charm, to fascinate, words which also by origin are of magical significance. The early magi of Assyria and Babylonia were adepts at this art, as is evident from the examples of Akkadian spells that have been discovered. Daniel (v. 11) is spoken of as “master of the enchanters” of Babylon. In Egypt and in India many formulas of religious magic were in use, witness especially the Vedic mantras, which are closely akin to the Maori karakias and the North American matamanik. Among the holy men presented by the king of Korea to the mikado of Japan in A.D. 577 was a reciter of mantras, who would find himself at home with the majinahi or incantation practised by the ancient Japanese for dissipating evil influences. One of the most common, widespread and persistent uses of incantation was in healing wounds, instances of which are found in the Odyssey and the Kalevala, and in the traditional folk-lore of almost every European country. Similar songs were sung to win back a faithless lover (cf. the second Idyll of Theocritus).

INCANTATION, refers to the use of words that are spoken, sung, or chanted, typically in a specific formula, to achieve a result through their supposed magical power. The term comes from the Latin incantare, meaning to chant a magical formula; similarly, carmen also refers to such a formula of words. The Latin usage is very ancient; it appears in a fragment of the XII Tables referenced by Pliny (N.H. xxviii. 2, 4, 17), “Qui malum carmen incantasset.” From the Old French derivative of incantare, enchanter, we get “enchant,” “enchantment,” etc., which relate to the application of magical powers, thus also meaning to charm or fascinate, terms that originally held magical significance. The early magi of Assyria and Babylonia were skilled in this practice, as shown by the examples of Akkadian spells that have been uncovered. Daniel (v. 11) is referred to as the “master of the enchanters” of Babylon. In Egypt and India, many formulas of religious magic were commonly used, especially the Vedic mantras, which are very similar to the Maori karakias and the North American matamanik. Among the holy men presented by the king of Korea to the mikado of Japan in AD 577 was a reciter of mantras, who would have been familiar with the majinahi or incantation practiced by the ancient Japanese to dispel evil influences. One of the most common, widespread, and lasting uses of incantation was in healing wounds, with examples found in the Odyssey and the Kalevala, as well as in the traditional folklore of nearly every European country. Similar songs were sung to regain a faithless lover (cf. the second Idyll of Theocritus).

See further Magic.

See more Magic.


INCE, WILLIAM, English 18th century furniture designer and cabinetmaker. He was one of the most successful imitators of Chippendale, although his work was in many respects lighter. He helped, indeed, to build the bridge between the massive and often florid style of Chippendale and the more boudoir-like forms of Hepplewhite. Although many of his designs were poor and extravagant, his best work was very good indeed. His chairs are sometimes mistaken for those of Chippendale, to which, however, they are much inferior. He greatly affected the Chinese and Gothic tastes of the second half of the 18th century. He was for many years in partnership in Broad Street, Golden Square, London, with Thomas Mayhew (q.v.), in collaboration with whom he published a folio volume of ninety-five plates, with letterpress in English and French under the title of The Universal System of Household Furniture (undated, but probably about 1762).

INCE, WILLIAM, English 18th-century furniture designer and cabinetmaker. He was one of the most successful imitators of Chippendale, though his work was often lighter. He helped bridge the gap between the heavy and often ornate style of Chippendale and the more delicate forms of Hepplewhite. While many of his designs were poor and extravagant, his best work was truly impressive. His chairs are sometimes mistaken for those of Chippendale, but they are considerably inferior. He had a significant influence on the Chinese and Gothic styles of the late 18th century. For many years, he partnered with Thomas Mayhew in Broad Street, Golden Square, London, with whom he published a folio volume of ninety-five plates, along with text in English and French titled The Universal System of Household Furniture (undated, but likely around 1762).


INCE-IN-MAKERFIELD, an urban district in the Ince parliamentary division of Lancashire, England, adjoining the borough of Wigan. Pop. (1901) 21,262. The Leeds and Liverpool Canal intersects the township. There are large collieries, ironworks, forges, railway wagon works, and cotton mills. There is preserved here the Old Hall, a beautiful example of half-timbered architecture.

INCE-IN-MAKERFIELD, is an urban district in the Ince parliamentary division of Lancashire, England, next to the borough of Wigan. Population (1901) was 21,262. The Leeds and Liverpool Canal runs through the area. There are large coal mines, ironworks, forges, railway wagon factories, and cotton mills. The Old Hall, a stunning example of half-timbered architecture, is preserved here.


INCENDIARISM (Lat. incendere, to set on fire, burn), in law, the wilful or malicious burning of the house or property of another, and punishable as arson (q.v.). It may be noted that in North Carolina it is provided in case of fires that there is to be a preliminary investigation by local authorities: all towns and cities have to make an annual inspection of buildings and a quarterly inspection within fire limits and report to the state insurance commissioner; all expenses so incurred are met by a tax of 15% on the gross receipts of the insurance companies (L. 1903, ch. 719).

ARSON (Lat. incendere, to set on fire, burn), in law, refers to the intentional or malicious burning of someone else's house or property, which is punishable as arson (q.v.). It is worth noting that in North Carolina, there is a requirement for a preliminary investigation by local authorities in the case of fires: all towns and cities must conduct an annual inspection of buildings and a quarterly inspection within fire limits, and report their findings to the state insurance commissioner; all costs incurred are covered by a tax of 15% on the gross receipts of the insurance companies (L. 1903, ch. 719).


INCENSE,1 the perfume (fumigation) arising from certain resins and gum-resins, barks, woods, dried flowers, fruits and seeds, when burnt, and also the substances so burnt. In its literal meaning the word “incense” is one with the word “perfume,” the aroma given off with the smoke (per fumum2) of any odoriferous substance when burnt. But, in use, while the meaning of the word “perfume” has been extended so as to include everything sweet in smell, from smoking incense to the invisible fresh fragrance of fruits and exquisite scent of flowers, that of the word “incense,” in all the languages of modern Europe in which it occurs, has, by an opposite process of limitation, been gradually restricted almost exclusively to frankincense (see Frankincense). Frankincense has always been obtainable in Europe in greater quantity than any other of the aromatics imported from the East; it has therefore gradually come to be the only incense used in the religious rites and domestic fumigations of many countries of the West, and at last to be properly regarded as the only “true” or “genuine” (i.e. “franc”) incense (see Littré’s Fr. Dict. and Skeat’s Etym. Dict. of Engl. Lang.).3

INCENSE,1 the fragrance (fumigation) that comes from certain resins, gum-resins, barks, woods, dried flowers, fruits, and seeds when burned, as well as the substances that are burned. Literally, the term “incense” is synonymous with “perfume,” referring to the scent released with the smoke (per fumum2) of any fragrant substance when burned. However, in practice, while the term “perfume” has broadened to encompass everything that smells good—from burning incense to the fresh aroma of fruits and beautiful scent of flowers—the term “incense” in all modern European languages has been gradually narrowed down almost exclusively to frankincense (see Frankincense). Frankincense has always been more readily available in Europe than any other aromatics imported from the East; as a result, it has come to be the primary incense used in the religious ceremonies and household fumigations of many Western countries, ultimately being regarded as the only “true” or “genuine” (i.e. “franc”) incense (see Littré’s Fr. Dict. and Skeat’s Etym. Dict. of Engl. Lang.).3

The following is probably an exhaustive list of the substances available for incense or perfume mentioned in the Hebrew Scriptures:—Algum or almug wood (almug in 1 Kings x. 11, 12; algum 349 in 2 Chron. ii. 8, and ix. 10, 11), generally identified with sandalwood (Santalum album), a native of Malabar and Malaya; aloes, or lign aloes (Heb. ahālim, ahālōth), produced by the Aloexylon Agallochum (Loureiro), a native of Cochin-China, and Aquilaria Agallocha (Roxburgh), a native of India beyond the Ganges; balm (Heb. tsorī), the oleo-resin of Balsamodendron opobalsamum and B. gileadense; bdellium (Heb. bdōlah), the resin produced by Balsamodendron roxburghii, B. Mukul and B. pubescens, all natives of Upper India (Lassen, however, identifies bdōlah with musk); calamus (Heb. kaneh; sweet calamus, keneh bosem, Ex. xxx. 23; Ezek. xxvii. 19; sweet cane, kaneh hattob, Jer. vi. 20; Isa. xliii. 24), identified by Royle with the Andropogon Calamus aromaticus or roosa grass of India; cassia (Heb. kiddah) the Cinnamomum Cassia of China; cinnamon (Heb. kinnamon), the Cinnamomum zeylanicum of the Somali country, but cultivated largely in Ceylon, where also it runs wild, and in Java; costus (Heb. ketzioth), the root of the Aucklandia Costus (Falconer), native of Kashmir; frankincense (Heb. lebōnah), the gum-resin of Bosiwellia Frereana and B. Bhau-Dajiana of the Somali country, and of B. Carterii of the Somali country and the opposite coast of Arabia (see “The Genus Boswellia” by Sir George Birdwood, Transactions of the Linnean Society, xxi. 1871); galbanum (Heb. helbenah), yielded by Opoidia galbanifera (Royle) of Khorassan, and Galbanum officinale (Don) of Syria and other Ferulas; ladanum (Heb. lōt, translated “myrrh” in Gen. xxxvii. 25, xliii. 11), the resinous exudation of Cistus creticus, C. ladaniferus and other species of “rock rose” or “rose of Sharon”; myrrh (Heb. mōr), the gum-resin of the Balsamodendron Myrrha of the Somali country and opposite shore of Arabia; onycha (Heb. sheḥeleth), the celebrated odoriferous shell of the ancients, the operculum or “nail” of a species of Strombus or “wing shell,” formerly well known in Europe under the name of Blatta byzantina; it is still imported into Bombay to burn with frankincense and other incense to bring out their odours more strongly; saffron (Heb. karkōm), the stigmata of Crocus sativus, a native originally of Kashmir; spikenard (Heb. nerd), the root of the Nardostachys Jatamansi of Nepal and Bhutan; stacte (Heb. nataf), generally referred to the Styrax officinalis of the Levant, but Hanbury has shown that no stacte or storax is now derived from S. officinalis, and that all that is found in modern commerce is the product of the Liquidambar orientalis of Cyprus and Anatolia.

The following is probably a complete list of the substances used for incense or perfume mentioned in the Hebrew Scriptures:—Algum or almug wood (almug in 1 Kings x. 11, 12; algum 349 in 2 Chron. ii. 8, and ix. 10, 11), generally identified with sandalwood (Santalum album), which comes from Malabar and Malaya; aloes, or lign aloes (Heb. ahālim, ahālōth), sourced from Aloexylon Agallochum (Loureiro), native to Cochin-China, and Aquilaria Agallocha (Roxburgh), from India beyond the Ganges; balm (Heb. tsorī), the oleo-resin of Balsamodendron opobalsamum and B. gileadense; bdellium (Heb. bdōlah), the resin produced by Balsamodendron roxburghii, B. Mukul, and B. pubescens, all found in Upper India (although Lassen identifies bdōlah as musk); calamus (Heb. kaneh; sweet calamus, keneh bosem, Ex. xxx. 23; Ezek. xxvii. 19; sweet cane, kaneh hattob, Jer. vi. 20; Isa. xliii. 24), identified by Royle with the Andropogon Calamus aromaticus or roosa grass from India; cassia (Heb. kiddah), the Cinnamomum Cassia from China; cinnamon (Heb. kinnamon), the Cinnamomum zeylanicum from the Somali region, but also widely cultivated in Ceylon where it also grows wild, and in Java; costus (Heb. ketzioth), the root of the Aucklandia Costus (Falconer), native to Kashmir; frankincense (Heb. lebōnah), the gum-resin from Bosiwellia Frereana and B. Bhau-Dajiana from the Somali region, and from B. Carterii of the Somali coast and the opposite coast of Arabia (see “The Genus Boswellia” by Sir George Birdwood, Transactions of the Linnean Society, xxi. 1871); galbanum (Heb. helbenah), produced by Opoidia galbanifera (Royle) from Khorassan, and Galbanum officinale (Don) from Syria and other Ferulas; ladanum (Heb. lōt, translated as “myrrh” in Gen. xxxvii. 25, xliii. 11), the resinous exudation from Cistus creticus, C. ladaniferus, and other species of “rock rose” or “rose of Sharon”; myrrh (Heb. mōr), the gum-resin from the Balsamodendron Myrrha of the Somali region and the opposite shore of Arabia; onycha (Heb. sheḥeleth), the famous fragrant shell of the ancients, the operculum or “nail” of a type of Strombus or “wing shell,” once well-known in Europe as Blatta byzantina; it is still imported into Bombay to burn with frankincense and other incense to enhance their aromas; saffron (Heb. karkōm), the stigmata of Crocus sativus, originally native to Kashmir; spikenard (Heb. nerd), the root of the Nardostachys Jatamansi from Nepal and Bhutan; stacte (Heb. nataf), usually associated with Styrax officinalis from the Levant, but Hanbury has shown that no stacte or storax is currently obtained from S. officinalis, and that all found in modern commerce comes from Liquidambar orientalis of Cyprus and Anatolia.

Besides these aromatic substances named in the Bible, the following must also be enumerated on account of their common use as incense in the East; benzoin or gum benjamin, first mentioned among Western writers by Ibn Batuta (1325-1349) under the name of lubân d’ Javi (i.e. olibanum of Java), corrupted in the parlance of Europe into benjamin and benzoin; camphor, produced by Cinnamomum Camphora, the “camphor laurel” of China and Japan, and by Dryobalanops aromatica, a native of the Indian Archipelago, and widely used as incense throughout the East, particularly in China; elemi, the resin of an unknown tree of the Philippine Islands, the elemi of old writers being the resin of Boswellia Frereana; gum-dragon or dragon’s blood, obtained from Calamus Draco, one of the ratan palms of the Indian Archipelago, Dracaena Draco, a liliaceous plant of the Canary Island, and Pterocarpus Draco, a leguminous tree of the island of Socotra; rose-malloes, a corruption of the Javanese rasamala, or liquid storax, the resinous exudation of Liquidambar Altingia, a native of the Indian Archipelago (an American Liquidambar also produces a rose-malloes-like exudation); star anise, the starlike fruit of the Illicum anisatum of Yunan and south-western China, burnt as incense in the temples of Japan; sweet flag, the root of Acorus Calamus, the bach of the Hindus, much used for incense in India. An aromatic earth, found on the coast of Cutch, is used as incense in the temples of western India. The animal excreta, musk and civet, also enter into the composition of modern European pastils and clous fumants. Balsam of Tolu, produced by Myroxylon toluiferum, a native of Venezuela and New Granada; balsam of Peru, derived from Myroxylon Pereirae, a native of San Salvador in Central America; Mexican and Brazilian elemi, produced by various species of Icica or “incense trees,” and the liquid exudation of an American species of Liquidambar, are all used as incense in America. Hanbury quotes a faculty granted by Pope Pius V. (August 2, 1571) to the bishops of the West Indies permitting the substitution of balsam of Peru for the balsam of the East in the preparation of the chrism to be used by the Catholic Church in America. The Sangre del drago of the Mexicans is a resin resembling dragon’s blood obtained from a euphorbiaceous tree, Croton Draco.

Besides the aromatic substances mentioned in the Bible, the following should also be listed due to their common use as incense in the East: benzoin or gum benjamin, first referenced by Western writers like Ibn Batuta (1325-1349) under the name of lubân d’ Javi (i.e. olibanum from Java), which was corrupted in European language into benjamin and benzoin; camphor, sourced from Cinnamomum Camphora, known as the “camphor laurel” in China and Japan, and also from Dryobalanops aromatica, a native of the Indian Archipelago, widely used as incense throughout the East, especially in China; elemi, the resin from an unknown tree in the Philippine Islands, with the elemi of ancient writers referring to the resin from Boswellia Frereana; gum-dragon or dragon’s blood, obtained from Calamus Draco, one of the rattan palms of the Indian Archipelago, Dracaena Draco, a liliaceous plant from the Canary Islands, and Pterocarpus Draco, a leguminous tree native to Socotra; rose-malloes, a corrupted term from the Javanese rasamala, or liquid storax, the resinous exudation from Liquidambar Altingia, found in the Indian Archipelago (an American Liquidambar also produces a similar exudation); star anise, the star-shaped fruit of Illicum anisatum from Yunan and southwestern China, burned as incense in Japanese temples; sweet flag, the root of Acorus Calamus, known as bach in Hindu culture, widely used for incense in India. An aromatic earth found on the coast of Cutch is used as incense in temples across western India. Animal excreta like musk and civet are also part of the composition of modern European pastils and clous fumants. Balsam of Tolu, produced by Myroxylon toluiferum, a native of Venezuela and New Granada; balsam of Peru, derived from Myroxylon Pereirae, found in San Salvador, Central America; Mexican and Brazilian elemi, produced by various species of Icica or “incense trees,” along with the liquid exudation from an American species of Liquidambar, are all used as incense in America. Hanbury cites a faculty granted by Pope Pius V. (August 2, 1571) to the bishops of the West Indies that allowed the substitution of balsam of Peru for balsam of the East in the preparation of the chrism used by the Catholic Church in America. The Sangre del drago of the Mexicans is a resin resembling dragon’s blood obtained from a euphorbiaceous tree, Croton Draco.

Probably nowhere can the actual historical progress from the primitive use of animal sacrifices to the later refinement of burning incense be more clearly traced than in the pages of the Old Testament, where no mention of the latter rite occurs before the period of the Mosaic legislation; but in the monuments of ancient Egypt the authentic traces of the use of incense that still exist carry us back to a much earlier date. From Meroe to Memphis the commonest subject carved or painted in the interiors of the temples is that of some contemporary Phrah or Pharaoh worshipping the presiding deity with oblations of gold and silver vessels, rich vestments, gems, the firstlings of the flock and herd, cakes, fruits, flowers, wine, anointing oil and incense. Generally he holds in one hand the censer, and with the other casts the pastils or osselets of incense into it: sometimes he offers incense in one hand and makes the libation of wine with the other. One of the best known of these representations is that carved on the memorial stone placed by Tethmosis (Thothmes) IV. (1533 B.C.) on the breast of the Sphinx at Gizeh.4 The tablet represents Tethmosis before his guardian deity, the sun-god Rê, pouring a libation of wine on one side and offering incense on the other. The ancient Egyptians used various substances as incense. They worshipped Rê at sunrise with resin, at mid-day with myrrh and at sunset with an elaborate confection called kuphi, compounded of no fewer than sixteen ingredients, among which were honey, wine, raisins, resin, myrrh and sweet calamus. While it was being mixed, holy writings were read to those engaged in the operation. According to Plutarch, apart from its mystic virtues arising from the magical combination of 4 × 4, its sweet odour had a benign physiological effect on those who offered it.5 The censer used was a hemispherical cup or bowl of bronze, supported by a long handle, fashioned at one end like an open hand, in which the bowl was, as it were, held, while the other end within which the pastils of incense were kept was shaped into the hawk’s head crowned with a disk, as the symbol of Rê.6 In embalming their dead the Egyptians filled the cavity of the belly with every sort of spicery except frankincense (Herod, ii. 86), for it was regarded as specially consecrated to the worship of the gods. In the burnt-offerings of male kine to Isis, the carcase of the steer, after evisceration, was filled with fine bread, honey, raisins, figs, frankincense, myrrh and other aromatics, and thus stuffed was roasted, being basted all the while by pouring over it large quantities of sweet oil, and then eaten with great festivity.

Nowhere can the historical development from the early practice of animal sacrifices to the later refinement of burning incense be more clearly seen than in the pages of the Old Testament, which doesn’t mention the latter practice until the time of the Mosaic laws. However, ancient Egyptian monuments show authentic evidence of incense use that dates back much earlier. From Meroe to Memphis, one of the most common subjects carved or painted in temple interiors is an Egyptian Pharaoh worshipping the main deity with offerings of gold and silver vessels, luxurious clothing, gems, the firstborn of livestock, cakes, fruits, flowers, wine, anointing oil, and incense. Typically, he holds a censer in one hand and uses the other to throw incense pastils or pellets into it; sometimes he offers incense in one hand while pouring wine from the other. A well-known example of this is the carving on the memorial stone placed by Tethmosis (Thothmes) IV around 1533 B.C. on the chest of the Sphinx at Giza. The tablet shows Tethmosis before his guardian deity, the sun-god Rê, pouring wine as a libation with one hand while offering incense with the other. The ancient Egyptians used various substances as incense. They worshipped Rê at sunrise with resin, at noon with myrrh, and at sunset with a complex mixture called *kuphi*, made from at least sixteen ingredients including honey, wine, raisins, resin, myrrh, and sweet calamus. While mixing this, holy texts were read to those involved. According to Plutarch, aside from its mystical properties due to the magical combination of 4 × 4, its pleasant scent had a positive physiological effect on those who offered it. The censer used was a hemispherical bowl made of bronze, held by a long handle shaped like an open hand at one end, while the other end that held the incense pastils was designed like a hawk’s head with a disk on top, symbolizing Rê. In mummifying their dead, the Egyptians filled the belly cavity with various spices except frankincense, as it was considered specially sacred to the gods. In the burnt offerings of male cattle to Isis, the carcass of the cow, after being emptied of its organs, was stuffed with fine bread, honey, raisins, figs, frankincense, myrrh, and other aromatic substances, then roasted while being basted with large amounts of sweet oil, and later consumed in great celebration.

How important the consumption of frankincense in the worship of the gods became in Egypt is shown by two of its monuments, both of the greatest interest and value for the light they throw on the early history of the commerce of the Indian Ocean. One is an inscription in the rocky valley of Hammamat, through which the desert road from the Red Sea to the valley of Egypt opens on the green fields and palm groves of the river Nile near Coptos. It was cut on the rocks by an Egyptian nobleman named Hannu, who states that he was sent by Pharaoh Sankhkere, Menthotp IV., with a force gathered out of the Thebaid, from Coptos to the Red Sea, there to take command of a naval expedition to the Holy Land of Punt (Puoni), “to bring back odoriferous gums.” Punt is identified with the Somali country, now known to be the native country of the trees that yield the bulk of the frankincense of commerce. The other bears the record of a second expedition to the same land of Punt, undertaken by command of Queen Hatshepsut, 1600 B.C. It is preserved in the vividly chiselled and richly coloured decorations portraying the history of the reign of this famous Pharaoh on the walls of the “Stage Temple” at Thebes. The temple is now in ruins, but the entire series of gorgeous pictures recording the expedition to “the balsam land of Punt,” from its leaving to its returning to Thebes, still remains intact and undefaced.7 These are the only authenticated instances of the export of incense trees from the Somali country until Colonel Playfair, then political agent at Aden, in 1862-1864, collected and sent to Bombay the specimens from which Sir George Birdwood prepared his descriptions of them for the Linnean Society in 1868. King Antigonus is said to have had a branch of the true frankincense tree sent to him.

How important the use of frankincense in worshiping the gods became in Egypt is shown by two significant monuments that shed light on the early history of trade in the Indian Ocean. One is an inscription in the rocky valley of Hammamat, where the desert road from the Red Sea leads to the lush fields and palm groves near the Nile River close to Coptos. It was carved into the rocks by an Egyptian nobleman named Hannu, who explains that he was sent by Pharaoh Sankhkere, Menthotp IV., with a group gathered from the Thebaid, from Coptos to the Red Sea, to lead a naval expedition to the Holy Land of Punt (Puoni), “to bring back fragrant gums.” Punt is identified with the Somali region, which is now known to be the origin of the majority of the commercially traded frankincense. The other monument records a second expedition to Punt, ordered by Queen Hatshepsut in 1600 B.C. It is preserved in the vividly carved and richly decorated walls of the “Stage Temple” at Thebes, which depict the history of this famous Pharaoh's reign. Although the temple is now in ruins, the complete series of beautiful images documenting the expedition to “the balsam land of Punt,” from departure to return to Thebes, remains intact and unspoiled.7 These are the only verified instances of the export of incense trees from the Somali region until Colonel Playfair, a political agent in Aden, collected and sent specimens to Bombay between 1862 and 1864, from which Sir George Birdwood prepared descriptions for the Linnean Society in 1868. King Antigonus is said to have received a branch of the true frankincense tree.

Homer tells us that the Egyptians of his time were emphatically a nation of druggists (Od. iv. 229, 230). This characteristic, in which, as in many others, they so remarkably resemble the 350 Hindus, the Egyptians have maintained to the present day; and, although they have changed their religion, the use of incense among them continues to be as familiar and formal as ever. The kohl or black powder with which the modern, like the ancient, Egyptian ladies paint their languishing eyelids, is nothing but the smeeth of charred frankincense, or other odoriferous resin brought with frankincense, and phials of water, from the well of Zem-zem, by the pilgrims returning from Mecca. They also melt frankincense as a depilatory, and smear their hands with a paste into the composition of which frankincense enters, for the purpose of communicating to them an attractive perfume. Herodotus (iv. 75) describes a similar artifice as practised by the women of Scythia (compare also Judith x. 3, 4). In cold weather the Egyptians warm their rooms by placing in them a brazier, “chafing-dish,” or “standing-dish,” filled with charcoal, whereon incense is burnt; and in hot weather they refresh them by occasionally swinging a hand censer by a chain through them—frankincense, benzoin and aloe wood being chiefly used for the purpose.8

Homer tells us that the Egyptians of his time were definitely a nation of druggists (Od. iv. 229, 230). This trait, which they share with the Hindus in many ways, has persisted among the Egyptians to this day. Even though they've changed their religion, the use of incense remains as common and formal as ever. The kohl or black powder that modern Egyptian women use to accentuate their eyelids is just the residue of charred frankincense or other fragrant resins brought along with frankincense and bottles of water from the well of Zem-zem by pilgrims coming back from Mecca. They also melt frankincense as a hair removal method and apply a paste containing frankincense to their hands to give them a pleasant scent. Herodotus (iv. 75) describes a similar practice among the women of Scythia (see also Judith x. 3, 4). In cold weather, the Egyptians heat their rooms by placing a brazier or “chafing-dish” filled with charcoal in them, on which incense is burned; and in hot weather, they cool down the rooms by occasionally swinging a hand censer through the air on a chain—primarily using frankincense, benzoin, and aloe wood for this purpose.

In the authorized version of the Bible, the word “incense” translates two wholly distinct Hebrew words. In various passages in the latter portion of Isaiah (xl.-lxvi.), in Jeremiah and in Chronicles, it represents the Hebrew lebōnah, more usually rendered “frankincense”; elsewhere the original word is ketoreth (Ex. xxx. 8, 9; Lev. x. 1; Num. vii. 14, &c.), a derivative of the verb kitter (Pi.) or hiktir (Hiph.), which verb is used, not only in Ex. xxx. 7, but also in Lev. i. 9, iii. 11, ix. 13, and many other passages, to denote the process by which the “savour of satisfaction” in any burnt-offering, whether of flesh or of incense, is produced. Sometimes in the authorized version (as in 1 Kings iii. 3; 1 Sam. ii. 28) it is made to mean explicitly the burning of incense with only doubtful propriety. The expression “incense (ketoreth) of rains” in Ps. lxvi. 15 and the allusion in Ps. cxli. 2 ought both to be understood, most probably, of ordinary burnt-offerings.9 The “incense” (ketoreth), or “incense of sweet scents” (ketoreth sammim), called, in Ex. xxx. 35, “a confection after the art of the apothecary,” or rather “a perfume after the art of the perfumer,” which was to be regarded as most holy, and the imitation of which was prohibited under the severest penalties, was compounded of four “sweet scents” (sammim),10 namely stacte (nataph), onycha (sheheleth), galbanum (helbenah) and “pure” or “fine” frankincense (lebōnah zaccah), pounded together in equal proportions, with (perhaps) an admixture of salt (memullah).11 It was then to be “put before the testimony” in the “tent of meeting.” It was burnt on the altar of incense by the priest every morning when the lamps were trimmed in the Holy Place, and every evening when they were lighted or “set up” (Ex. xxx. 7, 8). A handful of it was also burnt once a year in the Holy of Holies by the high priest on a pan of burning coals taken from the altar of burnt-offering (Lev. xvi. 12, 13). Pure frankincense (lebōnah) formed part of the meat-offering (Lev. ii. 16, vi. 15), and was also presented along with the shew bread (Lev. xxiv. 7) every Sabbath day (probably on two golden saucers; see Jos. Ant. iii. 10, 7). The religious significance of the use of incense, or at least of its use in the Holy of Holies, is distinctly set forth in Lev. xvi. 12, 13.

In the authorized version of the Bible, the word “incense” translates two completely different Hebrew words. In various passages in the latter part of Isaiah (xl.-lxvi.), Jeremiah, and Chronicles, it represents the Hebrew lebōnah, which is usually translated as “frankincense”; in other places, the original word is ketoreth (Ex. xxx. 8, 9; Lev. x. 1; Num. vii. 14, etc.), derived from the verb kitter (Pi.) or hiktir (Hiph.), which is used not only in Ex. xxx. 7 but also in Lev. i. 9, iii. 11, ix. 13, and many other passages to refer to the process that creates the “savour of satisfaction” in any burnt offering, whether of flesh or incense. Sometimes in the authorized version (as in 1 Kings iii. 3; 1 Sam. ii. 28), it explicitly refers to the burning of incense, though that may not be entirely accurate. The phrase “incense (ketoreth) of rains” in Ps. lxvi. 15 and the reference in Ps. cxli. 2 should probably be understood as pertaining to regular burnt offerings. The “incense” (ketoreth), or “incense of sweet scents” (ketoreth sammim), referred to in Ex. xxx. 35 as “a confection after the art of the apothecary,” or more accurately, “a perfume after the art of the perfumer,” was considered most holy, and attempting to replicate it was prohibited under the strictest penalties. It was made up of four “sweet scents” (sammim), namely stacte (nataph), onycha (sheheleth), galbanum (helbenah), and “pure” or “fine” frankincense (lebōnah zaccah), ground together in equal proportions, with (possibly) a bit of salt (memullah). It was then to be “put before the testimony” in the “tent of meeting.” The priest burned it on the altar of incense every morning when the lamps were trimmed in the Holy Place and every evening when they were lit or “set up” (Ex. xxx. 7, 8). A handful of it was also burned once a year in the Holy of Holies by the high priest on a pan of burning coals taken from the altar of burnt offering (Lev. xvi. 12, 13). Pure frankincense (lebōnah) was part of the meat offering (Lev. ii. 16, vi. 15) and was also presented with the show bread (Lev. xxiv. 7) every Sabbath day (likely on two golden saucers; see Jos. Ant. iii. 10, 7). The religious significance of using incense, or at least its use in the Holy of Holies, is clearly outlined in Lev. xvi. 12, 13.

The Jews were also in the habit of using odoriferous substances in connexion with the funeral obsequies of distinguished persons (see 2 Chron. xvi. 14, xxi. 19; Jer. xxxiv. 5). In Amos vi. 10 “he that burneth him” probably means “he that burns perfumes in his honour.” References to the domestic use of incense occur in Cant. iii. 6; Prov. xxvii. 9; cf. vii. 17.

The Jews also commonly used fragrant substances during the funeral rites of prominent individuals (see 2 Chron. xvi. 14, xxi. 19; Jer. xxxiv. 5). In Amos vi. 10, "he that burneth him" likely refers to "he that burns perfumes in his honor." Mentions of the use of incense at home can be found in Cant. iii. 6; Prov. xxvii. 9; cf. vii. 17.

The “marbles” of Nineveh furnish frequent examples of the offering of incense to the sun-god and his consort (2 Kings xxiii. 5). The kings of Assyria united in themselves the royal and priestly offices, and on the monuments they erected they are generally represented as offering incense and pouring out wine to the Tree of Life. They probably carried the incense in the sacred bag so frequently seen in their hands and in those also of the common priests. According to Herodotus (i. 183), frankincense to the amount of 1000 talents’ weight was offered every year, during the feast of Bel, on the great altar of his temple in Babylon.

The “marbles” of Nineveh provide many examples of incense being offered to the sun god and his partner (2 Kings xxiii. 5). The kings of Assyria held both royal and priestly roles, and on the monuments they built, they are usually shown offering incense and pouring out wine to the Tree of Life. They likely carried the incense in the sacred bag often seen in their hands and those of the regular priests. According to Herodotus (i. 183), an annual offering of frankincense weighing 1,000 talents was made during the feast of Bel on the great altar of his temple in Babylon.

The monuments of Persepolis and the coins of the Sassanians show that the religious use of incense was as common in ancient Persia as in Babylonia and Assyria. Five times a day the priests of the Persians (Zoroastrians) burnt incense on their sacred fire altars. In the Avesta (Vendidad, Fargard xix. 24, 40), the incense they used is named vohu gaono. It has been identified with benzoin, but was probably frankincense. Herodotus (iii. 97) states that the Arabs brought every year to Darius as tribute 1000 talents of frankincense. The Parsees still preserve in western India the pure tradition of the ritual of incense as followed by their race from probably the most ancient times.

The monuments of Persepolis and the coins of the Sassanians show that using incense for religious purposes was just as common in ancient Persia as it was in Babylonia and Assyria. Five times a day, the priests of the Persians (Zoroastrians) burned incense on their sacred fire altars. In the Avesta (Vendidad, Fargard xix. 24, 40), the incense they used is called vohu gaono. It's been identified with benzoin, but it was probably frankincense. Herodotus (iii. 97) mentions that the Arabs brought Darius 1000 talents of frankincense as tribute every year. The Parsees in western India still maintain the pure tradition of the incense ritual that their ancestors have followed since ancient times.

The Ramayana and Mahabharata afford evidence of the employment of incense by the Hindus, in the worship of the gods and the burning of the dead, from the remotest antiquity. Its use was obviously continued by the Buddhists during the prevalence of their religion in India, for it is still used by them in Nepal, Tibet, Ceylon, Burma, China and Japan. These countries all received Buddhism from India, and a large proportion of the porcelain and earthenware articles imported from China and Japan into Europe consists of innumerable forms of censers. The Jains all over India burn sticks of incense before their Jina. The commonest incense in ancient India was probably frankincense. The Indian frankincense tree, Boswellia thurifera, Colebrooke (which certainly includes B. glabra, Roxburgh), is a doubtful native of India. It is found chiefly where the Buddhist religion prevailed in ancient times, in Bihar and along the foot of the Himalayas and in western India, where it particularly flourishes in the neighbourhood of the Buddhist caves at Ajanta. It is quite possible therefore that, in the course of their widely extended commerce during the one thousand years of their ascendancy, the Buddhists imported the true frankincense trees from Africa and Arabia into India, and that the accepted Indian species are merely varieties of them. Now, however, the incense in commonest use in India is benzoin. But the consumption of all manner of odoriferous resins, gum resins, roots, woods, dried leaves, flowers, fruits and seeds in India, in social as well as religious observances, is enormous. The grateful perfumed powder abir or randa is composed either of rice, flour, mango bark or deodar wood, camphor and aniseed, or of sandalwood or wood aloes, and zerumbet, zedoary, rose flowers, camphor and civet. The incense sticks and pastils known all over India under the names of ud-buti (“benzoin-light”) or aggar-ki-buti (“wood aloes light”) are composed of benzoin, wood aloes, sandalwood, rock lichen, patchouli, rose-malloes, talispat (the leaf of Flacourtia Cataphracta of Roxburgh), mastic and sugar-candy or gum. The abir and aggir butis made at the Mahommedan city of Bijapur in the Mahratta country are celebrated all over western India. The Indian Mussulmans indeed were rapidly degenerating into a mere sect of Hindus before the Wahabi revival, and the more recent political propaganda in support of the false caliphate of the sultans of Turkey; and we therefore find the religious use of incense among them more general than among the Mahommedans of any other country. They use it at the ceremonies of circumcision, bismillah (teaching the child “the name of God”), virginity and marriage. At marriage they burn benzoin with nim seeds (Melia Azadirachta, Roxburgh) to keep off evil spirits, and prepare the bride-cakes by putting a quantity of benzoin between layers of wheaten dough, closed all round, and frying them in clarified butter. For days the bride is fed on little else. In their funeral ceremonies, the moment the spirit has fled incense is burnt before the corpse until it is carried out to be buried. The begging fakirs also go 351 about with a lighted stick of incense in one hand, and holding out with the other an incense-holder (literally, “incense chariot”), into which the coins of the pious are thrown. Large “incense trees” resembling our Christmas trees, formed of incense-sticks and pastils and osselets, and alight all over, are borne by the Shiah Mussulmans in the solennial procession of the Mohurrum, in commemoration of the martyrdom of the sons of Ali. The worship of the tulsi plant, or holy basil (Ocymum sanctum, Don), by the Hindus is popularly explained by its consecration to Vishnu and Krishna. It grows on the four-horned altar before the house, or in a pot placed in one of the front windows, and is worshipped every morning by all the female members of every Hindu household. It is possible that its adoration has survived from the times when the Hindus buried their dead in their houses, beneath the family hearth. When they came into a hot climate the fire of the sacrifices and domestic cookery was removed out of the house; but the dead were probably still for a while buried in or near it, and the tulsi was planted over their graves, at once for the salubrious fragrance it diffuses and to represent the burning of incense on the altar of the family Lar. The rich land round about the holy city of Pandharpur, sacred to Vithoba the national Mahratta form of (Krishna)-Vishnu, is wholly restricted to the cultivation of the tulsi plant.

The Ramayana and Mahabharata provide evidence that Hindus have used incense in worship and in funerals since ancient times. This practice continued with the Buddhists while their religion was prevalent in India, and it’s still used by them in Nepal, Tibet, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, China, and Japan. These countries all adopted Buddhism from India, and a significant part of the porcelain and pottery imported from China and Japan to Europe includes various forms of incense holders. Jains across India burn sticks of incense before their Jina. The most common incense in ancient India was likely frankincense. The Indian frankincense tree, Boswellia thurifera, Colebrooke (which likely includes B. glabra, Roxburgh), is an uncertain native of India. It mainly grows where Buddhism thrived in ancient times, like in Bihar and along the foothills of the Himalayas and in western India, especially near the Buddhist caves at Ajanta. Therefore, it's possible that during their extensive trade over the thousand years of their dominance, the Buddhists imported true frankincense trees from Africa and Arabia into India, and that the accepted Indian varieties are simply different forms of them. Currently, however, the most commonly used incense in India is benzoin. The consumption of various fragrant resins, gum resins, roots, woods, dried leaves, flowers, fruits, and seeds for both social and religious practices in India is enormous. The pleasant perfumed powder abir or randa is made from rice, flour, mango bark or deodar wood, camphor, and aniseed, or from sandalwood or wood aloes, along with zerumbet, zedoary, rose petals, camphor, and civet. The incense sticks and pastils known all over India as ud-buti (“benzoin light”) or aggar-ki-buti (“wood aloes light”) consist of benzoin, wood aloes, sandalwood, rock lichen, patchouli, rose-mallow, talispat (the leaf of Flacourtia Cataphracta of Roxburgh), mastic, and sugar-candy or gum. The abir and aggir butis made in the Muslim city of Bijapur in the Mahratta region are well-known throughout western India. Indian Muslims, in fact, were quickly becoming a mere sect of Hindus before the Wahhabi revival and the more recent political movements supporting the false caliphate of the Turkish sultans; thus, we find the religious use of incense among them to be more common than among Muslims from other countries. They use it during circumcision ceremonies, bismillah (teaching the child “the name of God”), and for virginity and marriage. At weddings, they burn benzoin with nim seeds (Melia Azadirachta, Roxburgh) to ward off evil spirits, and prepare the bride's cakes by placing benzoin between layers of wheat dough, sealing them, and frying in clarified butter. For days, the bride eats little else. During funerals, as soon as the spirit departs, incense is burned before the corpse until it is taken out for burial. The begging fakirs walk around with a lighted stick of incense in one hand and hold out an incense holder (literally, “incense chariot”) in the other for the pious to toss in coins. Large “incense trees” resembling Christmas trees, made of incense sticks and pastils and burning all over, are carried by the Shiah Muslims in the annual Mohurrum procession to commemorate the martyrdom of Ali's sons. The worship of the tulsi plant, or holy basil (Ocymum sanctum, Don), by Hindus is commonly explained as being dedicated to Vishnu and Krishna. It is grown on a four-horned altar in front of the house, or in a pot placed at one of the front windows, and is worshipped every morning by all the women in Hindu households. It's possible that this practice has its roots in the time when Hindus buried their dead in their homes, beneath the family hearth. When they moved to a hotter climate, the fire for sacrifices and cooking was moved outside, but the dead were still likely buried close by, and the tulsi was planted over their graves, both for its pleasant fragrance and to symbolize burning incense on the family altar. The fertile land around the holy city of Pandharpur, dedicated to Vithoba, the national Mahratta representation of (Krishna)-Vishnu, is exclusively reserved for cultivating the tulsi plant.

As to the θύεα mentioned in Homer (Il. ix. 499, and elsewhere) and in Hesiod (Works and Days, 338), there is some uncertainty whether they were incense offerings at all, and if so, whether they were ever offered alone, and not always in conjunction with animal sacrifices. That the domestic use, however, of the fragrant wood θύον (the Arbor vitae or Cailitris quadrivalvis of botanists, the source of the resin sandarach) was known in the Homeric age, is shown by the case of Calypso (Od. v. 60), and the very similarity of the word θύον to θύος may be taken as almost conclusively proving that by that time the same wood was also employed for religious purposes. It is not probable that the sweet-smelling gums and resins of the countries of the Indian Ocean began to be introduced into Greece before the 8th or 7th century B.C., and doubtless λίβανος or λιβανωτός first became an article of extensive commerce only after the Mediterranean trade with the East had been opened up by the Egyptian king Psammetichus (c. 664-610 B.C.). The new Oriental word is frequently employed by Herodotus; and there are abundant references to the use of the thing among the writers of the golden age of Attic literature (see, for example, Aristophanes, Plut. 1114; Frogs, 871, 888; Clouds, 426; Wasps, 96, 861). Frankincense, however, though the most common, never became the only kind of incense offered to the gods among the Greeks. Thus the Orphic hymns are careful to specify, in connexion with the several deities celebrated, a great variety of substances appropriate to the service of each; in the case of many of these the selection seems to have been determined not at all by their fragrance but by some occult considerations which it is now difficult to divine.

As for the storm mentioned by Homer (Il. ix. 499, and elsewhere) and Hesiod (Works and Days, 338), there is some uncertainty about whether they were incense offerings, and if they were, whether they were ever offered alone or always paired with animal sacrifices. However, the use of the fragrant wood θύον (the Arbor vitae or Cailitris quadrivalvis known to botanists, the source of the resin sandarach) during the Homeric age is evident from the case of Calypso (Od. v. 60), and the similarity of the word θυών to θύος strongly suggests that the same wood was also used for religious purposes by that time. It’s unlikely that the sweet-smelling gums and resins from the Indian Ocean began to reach Greece before the 8th or 7th century BCE, and Lebanon or frankincense likely became widely traded only after the Mediterranean trade with the East was established by the Egyptian king Psammetichus (c. 664-610 BCE). The new Oriental term is frequently used by Herodotus, and there are many references to its use among writers from the golden age of Attic literature (see, for example, Aristophanes, Plut. 1114; Frogs, 871, 888; Clouds, 426; Wasps, 96, 861). Frankincense, while the most common, was never the only type of incense offered to the gods by the Greeks. The Orphic hymns carefully specify a wide variety of substances for the worship of each deity; in many cases, the choice does not seem to be based on fragrance but on obscure factors that are hard to determine now.

Among the Romans the use of religious fumigations long preceded the introduction of foreign substances for the purpose (see, for example, Ovid, Fast. i. 337 seq., “Et non exiguo laurus adusta sono”). Latterly the use of frankincense (“mascula thura,” Virg. Ecl. viii. 65) became very prevalent, not only in religious ceremonials, but also on various state occasions, such as in triumphs (Ovid, Trist, iv. 2, 4), and also in connexion with certain occurrences of domestic life. In private it was daily offered by the devout to the Lar familiaris (Plaut. Aulul. prol. 23); and in public sacrifices it was not only sprinkled on the head of the victim by the pontifex before its slaughter, and afterwards mingled with its blood, but was also thrown upon the flames over which it was roasted.

Among the Romans, the use of religious incense started long before they began using foreign substances for that purpose (see, for example, Ovid, Fast. i. 337 seq., “And not without noticeable sound the laurel is burned”). Later on, the use of frankincense (“mascula thura,” Virg. Ecl. viii. 65) became quite common, not just in religious ceremonies but also during various state events, like triumphs (Ovid, Trist, iv. 2, 4), and even in certain domestic situations. Privately, it was offered daily by the faithful to the Lar familiaris (Plaut. Aulul. prol. 23); during public sacrifices, it was not only sprinkled on the victim's head by the pontiff before it was killed and then mixed with its blood, but it was also tossed into the flames over which it was roasted.

No perfectly satisfactory traces can be found of the use of incense in the ritual of the Christian Church during the first four centuries.12 It obviously was not contemplated by the author of the epistle to the Hebrews; its use was foreign to the synagogue services on which, and not on those of the temple, the worship of the primitive Christians is well known to have been originally modelled; and its associations with heathen solemnities, and with the evil repute of those who were known as “thurificati,” would still further militate against its employment. Various authors of the ante-Nicene period have expressed themselves as distinctly unfavourable to its religious, though not of course to its domestic, use. Thus Tertullian, while (De Cor. Mil. 10) ready to acknowledge its utility in counteracting unpleasant smells (“si me odor alicujus loci offenderit, Arabiae aliquid incendo”), is careful to say that he scorns to offer it as an accompaniment to his heartfelt prayers (Apol. 30; cf. 42). Athenagoras also (Legat. 13) gives distinct expression to his sense of the needlessness of any such ritual (“the Creator and Father of the universe does not require blood, nor smoke, nor even the sweet smell of flowers and incense”); and Arnobius (Adv. Gent. vii. 26) seeks to justify the Christian neglect of it by the fact, for which he vouches, that among the Romans themselves incense was unknown in the time of Numa, while the Etruscans had always continued to be strangers to it. Cyril of Jerusalem, Augustine and the Apostolic Constitutions make no reference to any such feature either in the public or private worship of the Christians of that time. The earliest mention, it would seem, occurs in the Apostolic Canons (can. 3), where the θυμίαμα is spoken of as one of the requisites of the eucharistic service. It is easy to perceive how it should inevitably have come in along with the whole circle of ideas involved in such words as “temple,” “altar,” “priest,” which about this time came to be so generally applied in ecclesiastical connexions. Evagrius (vi. 21) mentions the gift of a θυμιατήριον by the contemporary Chosroes of Persia to the church of Jerusalem; and all the Oriental liturgies of this period provide special prayers for the thurification of the eucharistic elements. The oldest Ordo Romanus, which perhaps takes us back to within a century of Gregory the Great, enjoins that in pontifical masses a sub-deacon, with a golden censer, shall go before the bishop as he leaves the secretarium for the choir, and two, with censers, before the deacon gospeller as he proceeds with the gospel to the ambo. And less than two centuries afterwards we read an order in one of the capitularies of Hincmar of Reims, to the effect that every priest ought to be provided with a censer and incense. That in this portion of their ritual, however, the Christians of that period were not universally conscious of its direct descent from Mosaic institutions may be inferred perhaps from the “benediction of the incense” used in the days of Charlemagne, which runs as follows: “May the Lord bless this incense to the extinction of every noxious smell, and kindle it to the odour of its sweetness.” Even Thomas Aquinas (p. iii. qu. 83, art. 5) gives prominence to this idea.

No perfectly satisfying evidence exists regarding the use of incense in the rituals of the Christian Church during the first four centuries.12 It is clear that the author of the epistle to the Hebrews did not intend for it to be used; its incorporation was not part of the synagogue services, which are well understood to have originally influenced the worship of early Christians, rather than those of the temple. Additionally, its associations with pagan rituals and the negative reputation of those known as “thurificati” further worked against its use. Various writers from the ante-Nicene period expressed their clear disapproval of its religious application, although they didn’t mind its use in domestic settings. For instance, Tertullian, while acknowledging its utility in masking unpleasant odors (“if I am offended by the smell of a place, I burn something from Arabia”), is careful to state that he refuses to offer it alongside his sincere prayers (Apol. 30; cf. 42). Athenagoras also (Legat. 13) clearly expresses his view that such rituals are unnecessary (“the Creator and Father of the universe does not require blood, nor smoke, nor even the sweet smell of flowers and incense”); and Arnobius (Adv. Gent. vii. 26) attempts to justify the Christian disregard for it by noting, with assurance, that among the Romans incense was unknown in the time of Numa, and the Etruscans had always remained strangers to it. Cyril of Jerusalem, Augustine, and the Apostolic Constitutions make no mention of such elements in the public or private worship of Christians at that time. The earliest reference seems to occur in the Apostolic Canons (can. 3), where the incense is described as one of the requirements of the eucharistic service. It’s easy to see how it would have inevitably arisen along with the entire range of ideas associated with terms like “temple,” “altar,” “priest,” which began to be widely used in ecclesiastical contexts around that time. Evagrius (vi. 21) notes the gift of a θυμιατήριον from the contemporary Persian King Chosroes to the church of Jerusalem; and all the Eastern liturgies from this period include special prayers for the thurification of the eucharistic elements. The earliest Ordo Romanus, which may date back within a century of Gregory the Great, instructs that during pontifical masses a sub-deacon, with a golden censer, should precede the bishop as he leaves the secretarium for the choir, and two individuals with censers should go ahead of the deacon gospeller as he approaches the ambo with the gospel. Less than two centuries later, we see an order in one of Hincmar of Reims’ capitularies stating that every priest should be equipped with a censer and incense. However, it may be inferred that the Christians of this period were not universally aware of its direct lineage from Mosaic practices, as suggested by the “benediction of the incense” used in the days of Charlemagne, which reads: “May the Lord bless this incense to eliminate every unpleasant smell and ignite it to the fragrance of its sweetness.” Even Thomas Aquinas (p. iii. qu. 83, art. 5) highlights this idea.

The character and order of these historical notices of incense would certainly, were there nothing else to be considered, justify the conclusion hitherto generally adopted, that its use was wholly unknown in the worship of the Christian Church before the 5th century. On the other hand, we know that in the first Christian services held in the catacombs under the city of Rome, incense was burnt as a sanitary fumigation at least. Tertullian also distinctly alludes to the use of aromatics in Christian burial: “the Sabaeans will testify that more of their merchandise, and that more costly, is lavished on the burial of Christians, than in burning incense to the gods.” And the whole argument from analogy is in favour of the presumption of the ceremonial use of incense by the Christians from the first. It is natural that little should be said of so obvious a practice until the fuller development of ritual in a later age. The slighting references to it by the Christian fathers are no more an argument against its existence in the primitive church than the similar denunciations by the Jewish prophets of burnt-offerings and sacrifices are any proof that there were no such rites as the offering of incense, and of the blood of bulls and fat of rams, in the worship of the temple at Jerusalem. There could be no real offence to Christians in the burning of incense. Malachi (i. 11) had already 352 foretold the time when among the Gentiles, in every place, incense should be offered to God. Gold, with myrrh and frankincense were offered by the Persian Magi to the infant Jesus at his birth; and in Revelation viii. 3, 4, the image of the offering of incense with the prayers of the saints, before the throne of God, is not without its significance. If also the passage in Ambrose of Milan (on Luke i. 11), where he speaks of “us” as “adolentes altaria” is to be translated “incensing the altars,” and taken literally, it is a testimony to the use of incense by the Christian Church in, at least, the 4th century. But the earliest express mention of the censing of the altar by Christian priests is in “the works,” first quoted in the 6th century, attributed to “Dionysius the Areopagite,” the contemporary of St Paul (Acts xvii. 34).

The character and order of these historical accounts of incense would definitely, if nothing else were taken into account, support the commonly accepted conclusion that its use was completely unknown in Christian worship before the 5th century. However, we know that in the first Christian services held in the catacombs under the city of Rome, incense was at least used for sanitary fumigation. Tertullian also clearly refers to the use of aromatics in Christian burials: “the Sabaeans will confirm that more of their goods, and the more expensive ones, are spent on the burial of Christians than on burning incense to the gods.” The overall argument from analogy supports the assumption that Christians used incense ceremonially from the beginning. It’s understandable that not much was written about such an obvious practice until ritual fully developed in a later time. The dismissive remarks by the Christian fathers do not argue against its existence in the early church any more than the similar criticisms by the Jewish prophets of burnt offerings and sacrifices prove that rites like burning incense, or offering the blood of bulls and fat of rams, did not occur in the worship of the temple in Jerusalem. There was no real offense to Christians in the burning of incense. Malachi (i. 11) had already predicted a time when incense would be offered to God among the Gentiles in every place. Gold, along with myrrh and frankincense, were given by the Persian Magi to the infant Jesus at his birth; and in Revelation viii. 3, 4, the image of incense being offered with the prayers of the saints before the throne of God carries significance. Additionally, if the passage in Ambrose of Milan (on Luke i. 11), where he refers to “us” as “adolentes altaria,” is translated as “incensing the altars” and taken literally, it provides evidence of the use of incense by the Christian Church in at least the 4th century. But the earliest specific mention of altar censing by Christian priests is found in “the works,” first quoted in the 6th century, attributed to “Dionysius the Areopagite,” who was a contemporary of St. Paul (Acts xvii. 34).

The Missal of the Roman Church now enjoins incensation before the introit, at the gospel and again at the offertory, and at the elevation, in every high mass; the use of incense also occurs at the exposition of the sacrament, at consecrations of churches and the like, in processions, in the office for the burial of the dead and at the exhibition of relics. On high festivals the altar is censed at vespers and lauds.

The Missal of the Roman Church now requires the use of incense before the entrance hymn, at the gospel, again at the offertory, and at the elevation during every high mass. Incense is also used during the exposition of the sacrament, during the consecration of churches and similar occasions, in processions, during the burial rites, and when displaying relics. On major feast days, the altar is incensed during vespers and lauds.

In the Church of England the use of incense was gradually abandoned after the reign of Edward VI., until the ritualistic revival of the present day. Its use, however, has never been abolished by law. A “Form for the Consecration of a Censer” occurs in Sancroft’s Form of Dedication and Consecration of a Church or Chapel (1685). In various works of reference (as, for example, in Notes and Queries, 3rd ser. vol. viii. p. 11) numerous sporadic cases are mentioned in which incense appears to have been burnt in churches; the evidence, however, does not go so far as to show that it was used during divine service, least of all that it was used during the communion office. At the coronation of George III., one of the king’s grooms appeared “in a scarlet dress, holding a perfuming pan, burning perfumes, as at previous coronations.”

In the Church of England, the use of incense was gradually phased out after the reign of Edward VI, until the ritual revival we see today. However, its use has never been banned by law. A “Form for the Consecration of a Censer” can be found in Sancroft’s Form of Dedication and Consecration of a Church or Chapel (1685). Various reference works (like Notes and Queries, 3rd ser. vol. viii. p. 11) mention several instances where incense seems to have been burned in churches; however, the evidence does not extend to showing that it was used during divine services, much less during the communion office. At the coronation of George III, one of the king’s grooms appeared “in a scarlet dress, holding a perfuming pan, burning perfumes, as at previous coronations.”

In 1899, on the appeal of the Rev. H. Westall, St Cuthbert’s, London, and the Rev. E. Ram, St John’s, Norwich, against the use of incense in the Church of England, the archbishops of Canterbury (Dr Temple) and York (Dr Maclagan) supported the appeal. Their decision was reviewed by Chancellor L. T. Dibdin in the 10th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, and the exposition given by Sir Lewis Dibdin of the whole question of the use of incense in the Church of England may here be interpolated.

In 1899, following a request from Rev. H. Westall of St Cuthbert’s in London and Rev. E. Ram of St John’s in Norwich against the use of incense in the Church of England, the archbishops of Canterbury (Dr. Temple) and York (Dr. Maclagan) backed the appeal. Their decision was reviewed by Chancellor L. T. Dibdin in the 10th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, and Sir Lewis Dibdin's explanation of the entire issue surrounding the use of incense in the Church of England can be included here.

(G. B.)

Incense in the Church of England.—Mr Scudamore (Notitia Eucharistica, 2nd ed. pp. 141-142) thus describes the method and extent of the employment of incense at the mass prior to the Reformation:—

Incense in the Church of England.—Mr Scudamore (Notitia Eucharistica, 2nd ed. pp. 141-142) describes how and to what extent incense was used during the mass before the Reformation:—

“According to the use of Sarum (and Bangor) the priest, after being himself censed by the deacon, censed the altar before the Introit began. The York rubric directed him to do it immediately alter the first saying of the Introit, which in England was thrice said. The Hereford missal gives no direction for censing the altar at that time. The middle of the altar was censed, according to Sarum, Bangor and Hereford, before the reading of the Gospel. According to Sarum and Bangor, the thurible, as well as the lights, attended the Gospel to the lectern. Perhaps the York rubric implies that this was done when it orders (which the others do not) the thurible to be carried round the choir with the Gospel while the Creed was being sung. In the Sarum and Bangor, the priest censed the oblations after offering them; then the space between himself and the altar. He was then, at Sarum, censed by the deacon, and an acolyte censed the choir; at Bangor the Sinistrum Cornu of the altar and the relics were censed instead. York and Hereford ordered no censing at the offertory. There is reason to think that, notwithstanding the order for the use of incense at every celebration, it was in practice burnt only on high festivals, and then only in rich churches, down to the period of the Reformation. In most parishes its costliness alone would preclude its daily use, while the want of an assistant minister would be a very common reason for omitting the rite almost everywhere. Incense was not burnt in private masses, so that the clergy were accustomed to celebrations without it, and would naturally forego it on any plausible ground.”

“According to the Sarum (and Bangor) traditions, the priest, after being censed by the deacon, censed the altar before the Introit began. The York guidelines instructed him to do it immediately after the first part of the Introit, which was said three times in England. The Hereford missal doesn’t provide any instructions for censing the altar at that time. According to Sarum, Bangor, and Hereford, the middle of the altar was censed before the reading of the Gospel. Following Sarum and Bangor, both the thurible and the lights were taken to the lectern during the Gospel reading. The York guidelines likely suggest this practice by ordering (which others do not) the thurible to be carried around the choir with the Gospel while the Creed was being sung. In Sarum and Bangor, the priest censed the offerings after presenting them, then censed the space between himself and the altar. At Sarum, he was censed by the deacon, and an acolyte censed the choir; at Bangor, the Sinistrum Cornu of the altar and the relics were censed instead. York and Hereford did not require any censing at the offertory. There’s reason to believe that, despite the instructions for using incense at every service, it was actually only burned during major festivals and then only in wealthy churches until the Reformation. In most parishes, its expense would likely prevent its daily use, and the lack of an assistant minister was a common reason for skipping the rite almost everywhere. Incense was not burned during private masses, so the clergy were used to celebrations without it, and would naturally skip it for any reasonable justification.”

The ritual of the mass remained unchanged until the death of Henry VIII. (Jan. 28, 1547). In March 1548 the Order of the Communion was published and commanded to be used by royal proclamation in the name of Edward VI. It was the precursor of the Prayer Book, and supplemented the accustomed Latin service by additions in English to provide for the communion of the people in both kinds. But it was expressly stated in a rubric that the old service of the mass was to proceed without variation of any rite or ceremony until after the priest had received the sacrament, that is, until long after the last of the three occasions for the use of incense explained above. But on Whitsunday 1549 the first Prayer Book of Edward VI. came into use under an Act of Parliament (2 and 3 Ed. VI. ch. 1, the first Act of Uniformity) which required its exclusive use in public worship so as to supersede all other forms of service. Another Act, 3 and 4 Ed. VI. ch. 10, required the old service books to be delivered up to be destroyed. The first Prayer Book does not contain any direction to use or any mention of incense. It has been and still is a keenly controverted question whether incense did or did not continue to be in ceremonial use under the first Prayer Book or during the rest of Edward VI.’s reign. No evidence has hitherto been discovered which justifies us in answering this question in the affirmative. The second Prayer Book of Edward VI. (1552), published under the authority of the second Act of Uniformity (5 and 6 Ed. VI. ch. 1), contains no reference to incense. Edward VI. died on the 6th July 1553. Queen Mary by statute (1 Mary, sess. 2, ch. 2) abolished the Prayer Book, repealed the Acts of Uniformity and restored “divine service and administration of sacraments as were most commonly used in England in the last year of Henry VIII.” The ceremonial use of incense thus became again an undoubted part of the communion service in the Church of England. A proclamation issued (December 6, 1553) directed the churchwardens to obtain the proper ornaments for the churches; and the bishops (at any rate Bishop Bonner, see Visitation Articles 1554, Cardwell’s Doc. Ann. i. 149-153) in their visitations inquired whether censers had been furnished for use. Mary died on the 17th of November 1558. On the 24th of June 1559 the second Prayer Book of Edward VI. (with a few alterations having no reference to incense) was again established, under the authority of the third Act of Uniformity (1 Eliz. ch. 2), as the exclusive service book for public service. There is no evidence of the ceremonial use of incense under Elizabeth’s Prayer Book, or under the present Prayer Book of 1662 (established by the fourth Act of Uniformity, 13 and 14 Charles II. ch. 4) until the middle of the 19th century; and there is no doubt that as a ceremony of divine worship, whether at the Holy Communion or at other services, it was entirely disused. There are, however, a good many instances recorded of what has been called a fumigatory use of frankincense in churches, by which it was sought to purify the air, in times of public sickness, or to dispel the foulness caused by large congregations, or poisonous gases arising from ill-constructed vaults under the church floor. It seems also to have been used for the purpose of creating an agreeable perfume on great occasions, e.g. the great ecclesiastical feasts. But this use of incense must be carefully distinguished from its ceremonial use. It was utilitarian and not symbolical, and from the nature of the purpose in view must have taken place before, rather than during, service. Of the same character is the use of incense carried in a perfuming pan before the sovereign at his coronation in the procession from Westminster Hall to the Abbey. This observance was maintained from James II.’s coronation to that of George III. In the general revival of church ceremonial which accompanied and followed the Oxford Movement incense was not forgotten, and its ceremonial use in the pre-Reformation method has been adopted in a few extreme churches since 1850. Its use has been condemned as an illegal ceremony by the ecclesiastical courts. In 1868 Sir Robert Phillimore (Dean of the Arches) pronounced the ceremonial use of incense to be illegal in the suit of Martin v. Mackonochie (2 A. and E.L.R. 116). The case was carried to the Privy Council on appeal, but there was no appeal on the question of incense. Again, in 1870, the ceremonial use of incense was condemned by Sir Robert Phillimore in the suit of Sumner v. Wix (3 A. and E. L.R. 58).

The ritual of the mass stayed the same until Henry VIII's death on January 28, 1547. In March 1548, the Order of the Communion was published and ordered to be used by royal decree in the name of Edward VI. It was the precursor to the Prayer Book and added English elements to the traditional Latin service to allow the congregation to receive communion in both forms. However, a rubric specified that the old mass service was to continue without any changes until after the priest had received the sacrament, which was long after the last of the three times incense was to be used mentioned earlier. But on Whitsun 1549, Edward VI's first Prayer Book came into effect under an Act of Parliament (2 and 3 Ed. VI. ch. 1, the first Act of Uniformity), requiring its sole use in public worship to replace all other service forms. Another Act, 3 and 4 Ed. VI. ch. 10, mandated that old service books be surrendered for destruction. The first Prayer Book does not include any instructions for using incense or mention it at all. There has been much debate over whether incense was still used ceremonially under the first Prayer Book or during Edward VI's reign. No evidence has been found to confirm this. The second Prayer Book of Edward VI. (1552), published under the second Act of Uniformity (5 and 6 Ed. VI. ch. 1), also contains no mention of incense. Edward VI died on July 6, 1553. Queen Mary, through statute (1 Mary, sess. 2, ch. 2), abolished the Prayer Book, repealed the Acts of Uniformity, and restored "divine service and administration of sacraments as were most commonly used in England in the last year of Henry VIII." Thus, the ceremonial use of incense became an unquestioned part of the communion service in the Church of England again. A proclamation issued on December 6, 1553, instructed churchwardens to procure the appropriate ornaments for churches; and bishops (at least Bishop Bonner, see Visitation Articles 1554, Cardwell’s Doc. Ann. i. 149-153) in their visitations checked if censers had been provided for use. Mary died on November 17, 1558. On June 24, 1559, the second Prayer Book of Edward VI. (with minor changes not related to incense) was again established under the third Act of Uniformity (1 Eliz. ch. 2) as the exclusive service book for public worship. There is no evidence of ceremonial incense use under Elizabeth’s Prayer Book or under the current Prayer Book of 1662 (established by the fourth Act of Uniformity, 13 and 14 Charles II. ch. 4) until the mid-19th century, and it is clear that as a ceremony of divine worship, whether at Holy Communion or other services, it was completely discontinued. However, there are many recorded instances of what has been called a fumigatory use of frankincense in churches, aimed at cleansing the air during public health crises or combating unpleasant odors from large gatherings or toxic gases from poorly constructed vaults under church floors. It also seems to have been used to create a pleasant fragrance on special occasions, for example, during major ecclesiastical feasts. But this use of incense must be carefully distinguished from its ceremonial use. It was practical, not symbolic, and due to its intended purpose, would have been done before, rather than during, services. A similar practice involved carrying incense in a perfuming pan before the sovereign at his coronation during the procession from Westminster Hall to the Abbey. This practice was maintained from James II’s coronation to that of George III. With the general revival of church ceremonial that came with and followed the Oxford Movement, incense was not overlooked, and its ceremonial use in the pre-Reformation style has been adopted in a few extreme churches since 1850. However, its use has been condemned as illegal by ecclesiastical courts. In 1868, Sir Robert Phillimore (Dean of the Arches) declared the ceremonial use of incense illegal in the case of Martin v. Mackonochie (2 A. and E.L.R. 116). The case was taken to the Privy Council on appeal, but there was no appeal regarding the incense issue. Again, in 1870, the ceremonial use of incense was condemned by Sir Robert Phillimore in the case of Sumner v. Wix (3 A. and E. L.R. 58).

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Notwithstanding these decisions, it was insisted by those who defended the revival of the ceremonial use of incense that it was a legal custom of the Church of England. The question was once more elaborately argued in May 1899 before an informal tribunal consisting of the archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Temple) and the archbishop of York (Dr. Maclagan), at Lambeth Palace. On the 31st of July 1899 the archbishops decided that the liturgical use of incense was illegal. The Lambeth “opinion,” as it was called, failed to convince the clergy against whom it was directed any better than the judgments of the ecclesiastical courts, but at first a considerable degree of obedience to the archbishops’ view was shown. Various expedients were adopted, as, e.g., the use of incense just before the beginning of service, by which it was sought to retain incense without infringing the law as laid down by the archbishops. There remained, nevertheless, a tendency on the part of the clergy who used incense, or desired to do so, to revert to the position they occupied before the Lambeth hearing—that is, to insist on the ceremonial use of incense as a part of the Catholic practice of the Church of England which it is the duty of the clergy to maintain, notwithstanding the decisions of ecclesiastical judges or the opinions or archbishops to the contrary.

Despite these decisions, those who supported bringing back the ceremonial use of incense argued that it was a legal tradition of the Church of England. This issue was discussed in detail again in May 1899 before an informal tribunal made up of the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Temple) and the Archbishop of York (Dr. Maclagan) at Lambeth Palace. On July 31, 1899, the archbishops ruled that the liturgical use of incense was illegal. The Lambeth "opinion," as it was known, didn’t convince the clergy it was directed at any more than the rulings from the ecclesiastical courts, but initially, there was a notable level of compliance with the archbishops' view. Various methods were adopted, such as using incense just before the service started, to maintain the use of incense without breaking the law established by the archbishops. However, there remained a tendency among clergy who used incense, or wanted to, to return to their previous stance before the Lambeth hearing—that is, to insist on the ceremonial use of incense as part of the Catholic practice of the Church of England, which they considered their responsibility to uphold, regardless of the decisions of church judges or the opinions of the archbishops to the contrary.

(L. T. D.)

Manufacture.—For the manufacture of the incense now used in the Christian churches of Europe there is no fixed rule. The books of ritual are agreed that Ex. xxx. 34 should be taken as a guide as much as possible. It is recommended that frankincense should enter as largely as possible into its composition, and that if inferior materials be employed at all they should not be allowed to preponderate. In Rome olibanum alone is employed; in other places benzoin, storax, lign, aloes, cascarilla bark, cinnamon, cloves and musk are all said to be occasionally used. In the Russian Church, benzoin is chiefly employed. The Armenian liturgy, in its benediction of the incense, speaks of “this perfume prepared from myrrh and cinnamon.”

Manufacture.—There isn't a set rule for making the incense used in Christian churches in Europe today. The ritual books agree that Exodus 30:34 should be referenced as much as possible. It's suggested that frankincense should be a major ingredient, and if any lower-quality materials are used, they shouldn't dominate the mixture. In Rome, only olibanum is used; elsewhere, benzoin, storax, lign, aloes, cascarilla bark, cinnamon, cloves, and musk are sometimes included. The Russian Church mainly uses benzoin. The Armenian liturgy, in its blessing of the incense, refers to “this perfume prepared from myrrh and cinnamon.”

The preparation of pastils of incense has probably come down in a continuous tradition from ancient Egypt, Babylonia and Phoenicia. Cyprus was for centuries famous for their manufacture, and they were still known in the middle ages by the names of pastils or osselets of Cyprus.

The making of incense pastilles has likely been passed down through an unbroken tradition from ancient Egypt, Babylonia, and Phoenicia. Cyprus was well-known for their production for centuries, and they were still referred to in the Middle Ages as pastils or osselets of Cyprus.

Maimonides, in his More Nevochim, states that the use of incense in the worship of the Jews originated as a corrective of the disagreeable odours arising from the slaughter and burning of the animals offered in sacrifice. There can be no doubt that its use throughout the East is based on sanitary considerations; and in Europe even, in the time when the dead were buried in the churches, it was recognized that the burning of incense served essentially to preserve their salubrity. But evidently the idea that the odour of a burnt-offering (cf. the κνίσης ἡδὺς ἀυτμή of Odyss. xii. 369) is grateful to the deity, being indeed the most essential part of the sacrifice, or at least the vehicle by which alone it can successfully be conveyed to its destination, is also a very early one, if not absolutely primitive; and survivals of it are possibly to be met with even among the most highly cultured peoples where the purely symbolical nature of all religious ritual is most clearly understood and maintained. Some such idea plainly underlies the familiar phrase “a sweet savour,” more literally “a savour of satisfaction,” whereby an acceptable offering by fire is so often denoted in the Bible (Gen. viii. 21; Lev. i. 9, et passim; cf. Eph. v. 2). It is easy to imagine how, as men grew in sensuous appreciation of pleasant perfumes, and in empirical knowledge of the sources from which these could be derived, this advance would naturally express itself, not only in their domestic habits, but also in the details of their religious ceremonial, so that the custom of adding some kind of incense to their animal sacrifices, and at length that of offering it pure and simple, would inevitably arise. Ultimately, with the development of the spiritual discernment of men, the “offering of incense” became a mere symbolical phrase for prayer (see Rev. v. 8, viii. 3, 4). Clement of Alexandria expresses this in his well-known words: “The true altar of incense is the just soul, and the perfume from it is holy prayer.” (So also Origen, Cont. Cels. viii. 17, 20.) The ancients were familiar with the sanitary efficacy of fumigations. The energy with which Ulysses, after the slaughter of the suitors, calls to Euryclea for “fire and sulphur” to purge (literally “fumigate”) the dining-hall from the pollution of their blood (Od. xxii. 481, 482) would startle those who imagine that sanitation is a peculiarly modern science. There is not the slightest doubt that the censing of things and persons was first practised as an act of purification, and thus became symbolical of consecration, and finally of the sanctification of the soul. The Egyptians understood the use of incense as symbolical of the purification of the soul by prayer. Catholic writers generally treat it as typifying contrition, the preaching of the Gospel, the prayers of the faithful and the virtues of the saints.

Maimonides, in his More Nevochim, explains that the use of incense in Jewish worship began as a way to mask the unpleasant odors from the slaughter and burning of sacrificial animals. It's clear that its use in the East is based on health considerations; even in Europe, during the time when the dead were buried in churches, it was recognized that burning incense helped preserve cleanliness. However, the idea that the smell of a burnt offering (see the Sweet-smelling incense from Odyss. xii. 369) is pleasing to the deity, being the most essential part of the sacrifice or the means by which it can be successfully delivered, is likely an ancient concept, if not entirely primitive; remnants of this belief probably still exist even among the most sophisticated cultures where the purely symbolic nature of religious rituals is well understood and maintained. A similar idea clearly underlies the familiar phrase “a sweet savour,” or more precisely “a savour of satisfaction,” often used in the Bible to describe an acceptable fire offering (Gen. viii. 21; Lev. i. 9, et passim; cf. Eph. v. 2). It’s easy to see how, as people developed a greater appreciation for pleasant scents and learned about their sources, this progress would naturally influence not just their daily lives but also their religious practices, leading to the custom of adding some type of incense to their animal sacrifices and eventually offering it on its own. Over time, as people’s spiritual awareness evolved, the “offering of incense” became just a symbolic term for prayer (see Rev. v. 8, viii. 3, 4). Clement of Alexandria captures this in his famous quote: “The true altar of incense is the just soul, and the perfume from it is holy prayer.” (This is also echoed by Origen, Cont. Cels. viii. 17, 20.) The ancients understood the health benefits of fumigating. The way Ulysses calls for “fire and sulphur” to cleanse (literally “fumigate”) the dining hall after the slaughter of the suitors (Od. xxii. 481, 482) would surprise those who think sanitation is a modern concept. It’s clear that using incense on people and things started as a way to purify and became symbolic of consecration, eventually representing the sanctification of the soul. The Egyptians saw incense as a symbol of the soul’s purification through prayer. Catholic writers generally view it as representing repentance, the preaching of the Gospel, the prayers of the faithful, and the virtues of the saints.

(G. B.)

1 Incensum (or incensum thuris) from incendere; Ital. and Port. incenso; Span. incienso; Fr. encens. The substantive occurs in an inscription of the Arvalian brotherhood (Marini, Gli Atti e Monumenti de’ fratelli Arvali, p. 639), but is frequent only in ecclesiastical Latin. Compare the classical suffimentum and suffitus from suffio. For “incense” Ulfila (Luke i. 10, 11) has retained the Greek θυμίαμα (thymiama); all the Teutonic names (Ger. Weihrauch; Old Saxon Wîrôc; Icel. Reykelsi; Dan. Rögelse) seem to belong to the Christian period (Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, i. 50).

1 Incensum (or incensum thuris) from incendere; Italian and Portuguese incenso; Spanish incienso; French encens. The noun appears in an inscription of the Arvalian brotherhood (Marini, Gli Atti e Monumenti de’ fratelli Arvali, p. 639), but is mainly found in ecclesiastical Latin. Compare the classical suffimentum and suffitus from suffio. For “incense,” Ulfila (Luke i. 10, 11) has kept the Greek incense (thymiama); all the Teutonic names (German Weihrauch; Old Saxon Wîrôc; Icelandic Reykelsi; Danish Rögelse) appear to belong to the Christian period (Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, i. 50).

2 The etymological affinities of θύω, θύος, thus, fuffio, funus, and the Sans. dhuma are well known. See Max Müller, Chips, i. 99.

2 The linguistic connections of θύω, θύος, thus, fuffio, funus, and the Sans. dhuma are widely recognized. See Max Müller, Chips, i. 99.

3 Classical Latin has but one word (thus or tus) for all sorts of incense. Libanus, for frankincense, occurs only in the Vulgate. Even the “ground frankincense” or “ground pine” (Ajuga chamaepitys) was known to the Romans as Tus terrae (Pliny), although they called some plant, from its smelling like frankincense, Libanotis, and a kind of Thasian wine, also from its fragrance, Libanios. The Latino-barbaric word Olibanum (quasi Oleum Libani), the common name for frankincense in modern commerce, is used in a bull of Pope Benedict IX. (1033). It may here be remarked that the name “European frankincense” is applied to Pinus Taeda, and to the resinous exudation (“Burgundy pitch”) of the Norwegian spruce firs (Abies excelsa). The “incense tree” of America is the Icica guianensis, and the “incense wood” of the same continent I. heptaphylla.

3 Classical Latin has just one word (thus or tus) for all kinds of incense. Libanus, referring to frankincense, only appears in the Vulgate. Even the “ground frankincense” or “ground pine” (Ajuga chamaepitys) was known to the Romans as Tus terrae (Pliny), although they named a plant that smelled like frankincense Libanotis, and a type of Thasian wine, also due to its fragrance, Libanios. The Latino-barbaric word Olibanum (similar to Oleum Libani), which is the common name for frankincense in modern commerce, appears in a bull of Pope Benedict IX. (1033). It’s worth noting that the term “European frankincense” is used for Pinus Taeda, and for the resinous exudation (“Burgundy pitch”) of the Norwegian spruce firs (Abies excelsa). The “incense tree” of America is the Icica guianensis, and the “incense wood” of the same continent is I. heptaphylla.

4 Brugsch, Egypt under the Pharaohs, i. 77-81, 414-419.

4 Brugsch, Egypt under the Pharaohs, i. 77-81, 414-419.

5 Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride, c. 52. In Parthey’s edition (Berlin, 1850) other recipes for the manufacture of kuphi, by Galen and Dioscorides, are given; also some results of the editor’s own experiments.

5 Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride, c. 52. In Parthey’s edition (Berlin, 1850), there are additional recipes for making kuphi from Galen and Dioscorides, as well as some findings from the editor’s own experiments.

6 Wilkinson, Ancient Egyptians, i. 493; ii. 49, 398-400, 414-416.

6 Wilkinson, Ancient Egyptians, i. 493; ii. 49, 398-400, 414-416.

7 Brugsch, Egypt under the Pharaohs, i. 303-312.

7 Brugsch, Egypt under the Pharaohs, i. 303-312.

8 See Lane, Mod. Egyptians, pp. 34, 41, 139, 187, 438 (ed. 1860).

8 See Lane, Mod. Egyptians, pp. 34, 41, 139, 187, 438 (ed. 1860).

9 See Wellhausen, Gesch. Israels, i. 70 sqq., who from philological and other data infers the late date of the introduction of incense into the Jewish ritual.

9 See Wellhausen, Gesch. Israels, i. 70 sqq., who uses linguistic and other evidence to suggest that incense was introduced into Jewish rituals at a later date.

10 According to Philo (Opera, i. 504, ed. Mangey), they symbolized respectively water, earth, air and fire.

10 According to Philo (Opera, i. 504, ed. Mangey), they represented water, earth, air, and fire.

11 Other accounts of its composition, drawn from Rabbinical sources, will be found in various works on Jewish antiquities; see, for example, Reland, Antiq. Sacr. vet. Hebr. pp. 39-41 (1712).

11 Other accounts of its composition, taken from Rabbinical sources, can be found in different works on Jewish history; see, for example, Reland, Antiq. Sacr. vet. Hebr. pp. 39-41 (1712).

12 This guarded statement still holds good. Compare Duchesne, Christian Worship (Eng. trans., 1904), ch. ii., “The Mass in the East,” v. “The Books of the Latin Rite,” and xii. “The Dedication of Churches.”

12 This cautious statement is still accurate. Check out Duchesne, Christian Worship (Eng. trans., 1904), ch. ii., “The Mass in the East,” v. “The Books of the Latin Rite,” and xii. “The Dedication of Churches.”


INCEST (Lat. incestus, unchaste), sexual intercourse between persons so related by kindred or affinity that legal marriage cannot take place between them (see Marriage, especially the section Canon Law). In England incest formerly was not generally treated as a crime, although, along with other offences against morals, it was made punishable by death in 1650. Since the Restoration it had, to use Blackstone’s phrase, been left to the “feeble coercion of the spiritual courts,” but bills to make it a criminal offence have at various times been unsuccessfully introduced in Parliament. In 1908 however, an act (The Punishment of Incest Act 1908) was passed, under which sexual intercourse of a male with his grand-daughter, daughter, sister or mother is made punishable with penal servitude for not less than 3 or more than 7 years, or with imprisonment for not more than two years with or without hard labour. It is immaterial that the sexual intercourse was had with the consent of the female; indeed, by s. 2 a female who consents is on conviction liable to the same punishment as the male. The act also makes an attempt to commit the offence of incest a misdemeanour, punishable by imprisonment for not more than two years with or without hard labour. The terms “brother” and “sister” include half-brother and half-sister, whether the relationship is or is not traced through lawful wedlock. All proceedings under the act are held in camera (s. 5). The act does not apply to Scotland, incest being punishable in Scots law. Under the Matrimonial Causes Act 1857, s. 27, incestuous adultery is per se sufficient ground to entitle a wife to divorce her husband. The Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Marriage Act 1907, s. 3, retained wives’ sisters in the class of persons with whom adultery is incestuous. In the law of Scotland, it was, until the Criminal Procedure (Scotland) Act 1887, a crime nominally punishable with death, but the penalty usually inflicted was penal servitude for life. This sentence was actually pronounced on a man in 1855. In the United States incest is not an indictable offence at common law, but, generally speaking, it has been made punishable by fine and imprisonment by state legislation. It is also a punishable offence in some European countries, notably Germany, Austria and Italy.

INCEST (Lat. incestus, unchaste) refers to sexual relations between individuals related by blood or marriage in a way that makes legal marriage impossible (see Marriage, especially the section Canon Law). In England, incest wasn't generally considered a crime in the past, though it was punishable by death along with other moral offenses in 1650. Since the Restoration, as Blackstone put it, it was left to the "weak enforcement of the spiritual courts," but various attempts to make it a criminal offense were often unsuccessful in Parliament. However, in 1908, an act (The Punishment of Incest Act 1908) was passed, making sexual intercourse between a male and his granddaughter, daughter, sister, or mother punishable by penal servitude for a minimum of 3 years and a maximum of 7 years, or imprisonment for up to two years with or without hard labor. It doesn't matter if the sexual intercourse happened with the female's consent; in fact, under section 2, a female who consents can face the same punishment as the male if convicted. The act also classifies an attempt to commit incest as a misdemeanor, punishable by up to two years in prison with or without hard labor. The terms “brother” and “sister” include half-brothers and half-sisters, regardless of whether the relationship is through a lawful marriage or not. All proceedings under the act are conducted in camera (s. 5). The act does not apply in Scotland, where incest is punishable under Scots law. According to the Matrimonial Causes Act 1857, s. 27, incestuous adultery is per se grounds for a wife to divorce her husband. The Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Marriage Act 1907, s. 3, kept wives' sisters in the category of individuals with whom adultery is considered incestuous. In Scots law, until the Criminal Procedure (Scotland) Act 1887, incest was nominally punishable by death, though the typical penalty was life imprisonment. This sentence was actually given to a man in 1855. In the United States, incest is not a punishable offense under common law, but state legislation has generally made it punishable by fines and imprisonment. It is also punishable in some European countries, especially Germany, Austria, and Italy.


INCH (O. Eng. ynce from Lat. uncia, a twelfth part; cf. “ounce,” and see As), the twelfth part of a linear foot. As a measure of rainfall an “inch of rain” is equivalent to a fall of a gallon of water spread over a surface of about 2 sq. ft., or 100 tons to an acre.

INCH (O. Eng. ynce from Lat. uncia, meaning a twelfth part; see “ounce,” and see As), is one-twelfth of a linear foot. When measuring rainfall, an “inch of rain” refers to a gallon of water spread over approximately 2 square feet, or 100 tons per acre.


INCHBALD, MRS ELIZABETH (1753-1821), English novelist, playwright and actress, was born on the 15th of October 1753 at Standingfield, Suffolk, the daughter of John Simpson, a farmer. Her father died when she was eight years old. She and her sisters never enjoyed the advantages of school or of any regular supervision in their studies, but they seem to have acquired refined and literary tastes at an early age. Ambitious to become an actress, a career for which an impediment in her speech hardly seemed to qualify her, she applied in vain for an engagement; and finally, in 1772, she abruptly left home to seek her fortune in London. Here she married Joseph Inchbald (d. 1779), an actor, and on the 4th of September made her début in Bristol as Cordelia, to his Lear. For several years she continued to act with him in the provinces. Her rôles included Anne Boleyn, Jane Shore, Calista, Calpurnia, Lady Anne in Richard III., Lady Percy, Lady Elizabeth Grey, Fanny in 354 The Clandestine Marriage, Desdemona, Aspasia in Tamerlane, Juliet and Imogen; but notwithstanding her great beauty and her natural aptitude for acting, her inability to acquire rapid and easy utterance prevented her from attaining to more than very moderate success. After the death of her husband she continued for some time on the stage; making her first London appearance at Covent Garden as Bellario in Philaster on the 3rd of October 1780. Her success, however, as an author led her to retire in 1789. She died at Kensington House on the 1st of August 1821.

INCHBALD, MRS. ELIZABETH (1753-1821), English novelist, playwright, and actress, was born on October 15, 1753, in Standingfield, Suffolk, the daughter of John Simpson, a farmer. Her father passed away when she was eight years old. She and her sisters never had the benefits of formal schooling or regular guidance in their studies, but they seem to have developed refined and literary tastes at a young age. Eager to become an actress, a career for which a speech impediment hardly seemed to disqualify her, she unsuccessfully applied for acting jobs. Finally, in 1772, she left home to pursue her fortune in London. There, she married Joseph Inchbald (d. 1779), an actor, and on September 4, she made her debut in Bristol as Cordelia, opposite his Lear. For several years, she continued to perform with him in various regions. Her roles included Anne Boleyn, Jane Shore, Calista, Calpurnia, Lady Anne in Richard III., Lady Percy, Lady Elizabeth Grey, Fanny in 354, The Clandestine Marriage, Desdemona, Aspasia in Tamerlane, Juliet, and Imogen; but despite her great beauty and natural talent for acting, her difficulty in achieving rapid and fluent speech limited her success to a moderate level. After her husband's death, she continued performing for some time, making her first London appearance at Covent Garden as Bellario in Philaster on October 3, 1780. However, her success as a writer led her to retire in 1789. She passed away at Kensington House on August 1, 1821.

Mrs. Inchbald wrote or adapted nineteen plays, and some of them, especially Wives as They Were and Maids as They Are (1797), were for a time very successful. Among the others may be mentioned I’ll tell you What (translated into German, Leipzig, 1798); Such Things Are (1788); The Married Man; The Wedding Day; The Midnight Hour; Everyone has his Fault; and Lover’s Vows. She also edited a collection of the British Theatre, with biographical and critical remarks (25 vols., 1806-1809); a Collection of Farces (7 vols., 1809); and The Modern Theatre (10 vols., 1809). Her fame, however, rests chiefly on her two novels: A Simple Story (1791), and Nature and Art (1796). These works possess many minor faults and inaccuracies, but on the whole their style is easy, natural and graceful; and if they are tainted in some degree by a morbid and exaggerated sentiment, and display none of that faculty of creation possessed by the best writers of fiction, the pathetic situations, and the deep and pure feeling pervading them, secured for them a wide popularity.

Mrs. Inchbald wrote or adapted nineteen plays, and some of them, especially Wives as They Were and Maids as They Are (1797), were very successful for a time. Other notable works include I’ll Tell You What (translated into German, Leipzig, 1798); Such Things Are (1788); The Married Man; The Wedding Day; The Midnight Hour; Everyone Has His Fault; and Lover’s Vows. She also edited a collection of the British Theatre, which included biographical and critical remarks (25 vols., 1806-1809); a Collection of Farces (7 vols., 1809); and The Modern Theatre (10 vols., 1809). However, her fame mainly comes from her two novels: A Simple Story (1791) and Nature and Art (1796). These works have some minor flaws and inaccuracies, but overall, their style is easy, natural, and graceful; while they may have a hint of morbid and exaggerated sentiment and lack the creative talent of the best fiction writers, the emotional situations and the deep, sincere feelings throughout them earned them wide popularity.

Mrs Inchbald destroyed an autobiography for which she had been offered £1000 by Phillips the publisher; but her Memoirs, compiled by J. Boaden, chiefly from her private journal, appeared in 1833 in two volumes. An interesting account of Mrs Inchbald is contained in Records of a Girlhood, by Frances Ann Kemble (1878). Her portrait was painted by Sir Thomas Lawrence.

Mrs. Inchbald destroyed an autobiography for which she had been offered £1000 by the publisher Phillips; however, her Memoirs, compiled by J. Boaden mainly from her private journal, were published in 1833 in two volumes. An interesting account of Mrs. Inchbald can be found in Records of a Girlhood by Frances Ann Kemble (1878). Her portrait was painted by Sir Thomas Lawrence.


INCHIQUIN, MURROUGH O’BRIEN, 1st Earl of (c. 1614-1674), Irish soldier and statesman, was the son of Dermod O’Brien, 5th Baron Inchiquin (d. 1624). He belonged to a great family which traced its descent to Brian Boroimhe, king of Ireland, and members of which were always to the forefront in Irish public life. The first baron of Inchiquin was another Murrough O’Brien (d. 1551) who, after having made his submission to Henry VIII., was created baron of Inchiquin and earl of Thomond in 1543. When Murrough died in November 1551 by a curious arrangement his earldom passed to his nephew Donogh, son of Conor O’Brien (d. 1539), the last independent prince of Thomond (see Thomond, Earls of), leaving only his barony to be inherited by his son Dermod (d. 1557), the ancestor of the later barons of Inchiquin.

INCHIQUIN, MURROUGH O’BRIEN, 1st Earl of (c. 1614-1674), Irish soldier and politician, was the son of Dermod O’Brien, 5th Baron Inchiquin (d. 1624). He came from a prominent family that traced its lineage back to Brian Boroimhe, the king of Ireland, and its members were always prominent in Irish public life. The first baron of Inchiquin was another Murrough O’Brien (d. 1551) who, after submitting to Henry VIII, was made baron of Inchiquin and earl of Thomond in 1543. When Murrough died in November 1551, due to a unique arrangement, his earldom passed to his nephew Donogh, son of Conor O’Brien (d. 1539), the last independent prince of Thomond (see Thomond, Earls of), leaving only his barony to be inherited by his son Dermod (d. 1557), the ancestor of the later barons of Inchiquin.

Murrough O’Brien, who became 6th baron of Inchiquin in 1624, gained some military experience in Italy, and then in 1640 was appointed vice-president of Munster. He took an active and leading part in suppressing the great Irish rebellion which broke out in the following year, and during the Civil War the English parliament made him president of Munster. Early in 1648, however, he declared, for his former master Charles I., and for about two years he sought to uphold the royalist cause in Ireland. In 1654 Charles II. made him an earl. His later years were partly spent in France and in Spain, but he had returned to Ireland when he died on the 9th of September 1674.

Murrough O’Brien, who became the 6th Baron of Inchiquin in 1624, gained military experience in Italy. In 1640, he was appointed vice-president of Munster. He played an active and leading role in suppressing the major Irish rebellion that broke out the following year, and during the Civil War, the English Parliament made him president of Munster. However, in early 1648, he declared his support for his former master, Charles I, and for about two years, he tried to support the royalist cause in Ireland. In 1654, Charles II made him an earl. He spent his later years partly in France and Spain but had returned to Ireland by the time he died on September 9, 1674.

His son William, the 2nd earl (c. 1638-1692), served under his father in France and Spain, and for six years was governor of Tangier. He was a partisan of William III. in Ireland, and in 1690 he became governor of Jamaica where he died in January 1692. In 1800 his descendant Murrough, the 5th earl (d. 1808), was created marquess of Thomond, but on the death of James, the 3rd marquess, in July 1855 both the marquessate and the earldom became extinct. The barony of Inchiquin, however, passed to a kinsman, Sir Lucius O’Brien, Bart. (1800-1872), a descendant of the first baron and a brother of William Smith O’Brien (q.v.).

His son William, the 2nd earl (c. 1638-1692), served alongside his father in France and Spain, and for six years he was the governor of Tangier. He supported William III in Ireland, and in 1690 he became governor of Jamaica, where he died in January 1692. In 1800, his descendant Murrough, the 5th earl (d. 1808), was made marquess of Thomond, but when James, the 3rd marquess, died in July 1855, both the marquessate and the earldom became extinct. However, the barony of Inchiquin went to a relative, Sir Lucius O’Brien, Bart. (1800-1872), who was a descendant of the first baron and a brother of William Smith O’Brien (q.v.).


INCLEDON, CHARLES BENJAMIN (1763-1826), English singer, son of a doctor in Cornwall, began as a choir-boy at Exeter, but then went into the navy. His fine tenor voice, however, attracted general attention, and in 1783 he determined to seek his fortune on the stage. After various provincial appearances he made a great success in 1790 at Covent Garden, and thenceforth was the principal English tenor of his day. He sang both in opera and in oratorio, but his chief popularity lay in his delivery of ballads, such as “Sally in our Alley,” “Black-eyed Susan,” “The Arethusa,” and anything of a bold and manly type. He toured in America in 1817; and on retiring in 1822 from the operatic stage, he travelled through the provinces with an entertainment called “The Wandering Melodist.” He died of paralysis at Worcester on the 11th of February 1826.

INCLEDON, CHARLES BENJAMIN (1763-1826), was an English singer, born to a doctor in Cornwall. He started as a choir boy in Exeter but later joined the navy. His impressive tenor voice caught the attention of many, and in 1783, he decided to pursue a career on stage. After several performances in smaller towns, he achieved significant success in 1790 at Covent Garden, becoming the leading English tenor of his time. He performed in both opera and oratorio, but he became especially popular for his ballads, like “Sally in our Alley,” “Black-eyed Susan,” “The Arethusa,” and other bold, masculine songs. He toured America in 1817, and after retiring from the opera in 1822, he traveled around the provinces with a show called “The Wandering Melodist.” He passed away from paralysis in Worcester on February 11, 1826.


INCLINOMETER (Dip Circle). Two distinct classes of instruments are used for measuring the dip (see Magnetism, Terrestrial) or inclination of the earth’s magnetic field to the horizontal, namely (1) dip circles, and (2) induction inclinometers or earth inductors.

INCLINOMETER (Dip Circle). There are two main types of instruments used to measure the dip (see Magnetism, Terrestrial) or inclination of the Earth's magnetic field to the horizontal: (1) dip circles and (2) induction inclinometers or earth inductors.

Dip Circles.—In the case of the dip circle the direction of the earth’s magnetic field is obtained by observing the position of the axis of a magnetized needle so supported as to be free to turn about a horizontal axis passing through its centre of gravity. The needles now used consist of flat lozenge-shaped pieces of steel about 9 cm. long and 0.1 cm. thick, and weigh about 4.1 grams. The axle, which is made of hard steel, projects on either side of the needle and has a diameter of about 0.05 cm. Needles considerably larger than the above have been used, but experience showed that the values for the dip observed with needles 23 cm. long, was about 1’ less than with the 9 cm. needles, and A. Schuster (Phil. Mag., 1891 [5], 31, p. 275) has shown that the difference is due to the appreciable bending of the longer needles owing to their weight.

Dip Circles.—For the dip circle, the direction of the earth’s magnetic field is determined by observing the orientation of a magnetized needle that is positioned to freely rotate around a horizontal axis through its center of gravity. The needles currently used are flat, lozenge-shaped pieces of steel that measure about 9 cm long and 0.1 cm thick, weighing around 4.1 grams. The axle, made of hard steel, extends on either side of the needle and has a diameter of approximately 0.05 cm. Larger needles have been used, but experience indicated that the dip value observed with 23 cm long needles was about 1’ less than with the 9 cm needles. A. Schuster (Phil. Mag., 1891 [5], 31, p. 275) demonstrated that this difference is due to the noticeable bending of the longer needles caused by their weight.

When in use the dip needle is supported on two agate knife-edges, so that its axle is on the axis of a vertical divided circle, on which the positions of the ends of the needle are either directly observed by means of two reading lenses, in which case the circle is generally divided into thirds of a degree so that it can by estimation be read to about two minutes, or a cross arm carries two small microscopes and two verniers, the cross wires of each microscope being adjusted so as to bisect the image of the corresponding end of the needle. Two V-shaped lifters actuated by a handle serve to raise the needle from the agates, and when lowered assure the axle being at the centre of the vertical circle. 355 The supports for the needle, and a box to protect the needle from draughts, as well as the vertical circle, can be rotated about a vertical axis, and their azimuth read off on a horizontal divided circle. There are also two adjustable stops which can be set in any position, and allow the upper part of the instrument to be rotated through exactly 180° without the necessity of reading the horizontal circle.

When in use, the dip needle is held on two agate knife-edges, so its axle is aligned with the axis of a vertical divided circle. The positions of the ends of the needle are either observed directly through two reading lenses, with the circle usually divided into thirds of a degree, allowing for estimated readings of about two minutes, or via a cross arm that holds two small microscopes and two verniers. The cross hairs in each microscope are adjusted to bisect the image of the corresponding end of the needle. Two V-shaped lifters, operated by a handle, lift the needle off the agates and ensure that when lowered, the axle is centered in the vertical circle. 355 The supports for the needle and a box designed to protect it from drafts, along with the vertical circle, can rotate around a vertical axis, with their azimuth readable on a horizontal divided circle. Additionally, there are two adjustable stops that can be set in any position, allowing the upper part of the instrument to be rotated exactly 180° without needing to read the horizontal circle.

When making a determination of the dip with the dip circle, a number of separate readings have to be made in order to eliminate various instrumental defects. Thus, that side of the needle on which the number is engraved being called the face of the needle, and that side of the protecting box next the vertical circle the face of the instrument, both ends of the needle are observed in the following relative positions, the instrument being in every case so adjusted in azimuth that the axle of the needle points magnetic east and west:—

When measuring the dip with the dip circle, you need to take several readings to rule out different instrument flaws. The side of the needle with the engraved number is known as the face of the needle, while the side of the protective box next to the vertical circle is referred to as the face of the instrument. Both ends of the needle are observed in the following relative positions, with the instrument adjusted in azimuth so that the needle's axle points magnetic east and west:—

i. Face of instrument east and face of needle next to face of instrument;

i. Position the instrument to the east and align the needle with the face of the instrument;

ii. Face of instrument west and face of needle next to face of instrument;

ii. Point the instrument west and place the needle next to the face of the instrument;

iii. Face of instrument west and face of needle away from face of instrument;

iii. Turn the instrument to face west and position the needle away from the instrument's face;

iv. Face of instrument east and face of needle away from face of instrument.

iv. Position the instrument facing east and have the needle pointing away from the face of the instrument.

Next the direction of magnetization of the needle is reversed by stroking it a number of times with two strong permanent magnets, when the other end of the needle dips and the above four sets of readings are repeated. The object in reading both ends of the needle is to avoid error if the prolongation of the axle of the needle does not pass through the centre of the vertical circle, as also to avoid error due to the eccentricity of the arm which carries the reading microscopes and verniers. The reversal of the instrument between (i.) and (ii.) and between (iii.) and (iv.) is to eliminate errors due to (a) the line joining the zeros of the vertical circle not being exactly horizontal, and (b) the agate knife-edges which support the needle not being exactly horizontal. The reversal of the needle between (ii.) and (iii.) is to eliminate errors due to (a) the magnetic axis of the needle not coinciding with the line joining the two points of the needle, and (b) to the centre of gravity of the needle being displaced from the centre of the axle in a direction at right angles to the length of the needle. The reversal of the poles of the needle is to counteract any error produced by the centre of gravity of the needle being displaced from the centre of the axle in a direction parallel to the length of the needle.

Next, the direction of the needle's magnetization is flipped by stroking it several times with two strong permanent magnets. After this, the other end of the needle dips, and the four sets of readings mentioned earlier are repeated. The purpose of reading both ends of the needle is to avoid errors if the extension of the needle's axle doesn’t pass through the center of the vertical circle, and to also prevent errors due to the eccentricity of the arm that holds the reading microscopes and verniers. Reversing the instrument between (i.) and (ii.) and between (iii.) and (iv.) helps eliminate errors due to (a) the line connecting the zeros of the vertical circle not being perfectly horizontal, and (b) the agate knife-edges supporting the needle not being perfectly horizontal. The reversal of the needle between (ii.) and (iii.) is to eliminate errors caused by (a) the magnetic axis of the needle not aligning with the line connecting the two points of the needle, and (b) the center of gravity of the needle being off from the center of the axle in a direction perpendicular to the length of the needle. Flipping the poles of the needle aims to counteract any errors caused by the center of gravity of the needle being misaligned with the center of the axle in a direction parallel to the length of the needle.

For use at sea the dip circle was modified, by Robert Were Fox (Annals of Electricity, 1839, 3, p. 288), who used a needle having pointed axles, the points resting in jewelled holes carried by two uprights, so that the movement of the ship does not cause the axle of the needle to change its position with reference to the vertical divided circle. To counteract the tendency of the axle to stick in the bearings, the instrument is fitted with a knob on the top of the box protecting the needle, and when a reading is being taken this knob is rubbed with an ivory or horn disk, the surface of which is corrugated. In this way a tremor is caused which is found to assist the needle in overcoming the effects of friction, so that it takes up its true position. In the Creak modification of the Fox dip circle, the upper halves of the jewels which form the bearings are cut away so that the needle can be easily removed, and thus the reversals necessary when making a complete observation can be performed (see also Magneto-Meter).

For use at sea, the dip circle was adapted by Robert Were Fox (Annals of Electricity, 1839, 3, p. 288), who designed a needle with pointed axles. The points rest in jeweled holes fixed by two uprights, ensuring that the ship's movement doesn't affect the needle's position in relation to the vertical divided circle. To prevent the axle from sticking in the bearings, the instrument is equipped with a knob on top of the box that protects the needle. When taking a reading, this knob is rubbed with a disk made of ivory or horn that has a textured surface. This creates a slight vibration that helps the needle overcome friction, allowing it to settle into its correct position. In the Creak modification of the Fox dip circle, the upper parts of the jewels that make up the bearings are cut away so the needle can be easily removed, enabling the necessary reversals for a complete observation (see also Magneto-Meter).

Induction Inclinometers.—The principle on which induction inclinometers depend is that if a coil of insulated wire is spun about a diameter there will be an alternating current induced in the coil, unless the axis about which it turns is parallel to the lines of force of the earth’s field. Hence if the axis about which such a coil spins is adjusted till a sensitive galvanometer connected to the coil through a commutator, by which the alternating current is converted into a direct current, is undeflected, then the axis must be parallel to the lines of force of the earth’s field, and hence the inclination of the axis to the horizontal is the dip. The introduction and perfection of this type of inclinometer is almost entirely due to H. Wild. His form of instrument for field observations1 consists of a coil 10 cm. in diameter, containing about 1000 turns of silk-covered copper wire, the resistance being about 40 ohms, which is pivoted inside a metal ring. This ring can itself rotate about a horizontal axle in its own plane, this axle being at right angles to that about which the coil can rotate. Attached to the axle of the ring is a divided circle, by means of which and two reading microscopes the inclination of the axis of rotation of the coil to the horizontal can be read. The bearings which support the horizontal axle of the ring are mounted on a horizontal annulus which can be rotated in a groove attached to the base of the instrument, as so to allow the azimuth of the axle of the ring, and hence also that of the plane in which the axis of the coil can move, to be adjusted. The coil is rotated by means of a flexible shaft worked by a small cranked handle and a train of gear wheels. The terminals of the coil are taken to a two-part commutator of the ordinary pattern on which rest two copper brushes which are connected by flexible leads to a sensitive galvanometer. The inclination of the axis of the coil can be roughly adjusted by hand by rotating the supporting ring. The final adjustment is made by means of a micrometer screw attached to an arm which is clamped on the axle of the ring.

Induction Inclinometers.—Induction inclinometers work on the principle that when a coil of insulated wire is rotated around a diameter, it generates an alternating current in the coil, unless the axis it's turning around is aligned with the earth's magnetic field lines. Therefore, if you adjust the coil's spinning axis until a sensitive galvanometer connected to the coil via a commutator (which converts the alternating current into direct current) shows no deflection, this means the axis is aligned with the magnetic field lines, thus indicating that the axis's angle to the horizontal is the dip. The development and refinement of this kind of inclinometer can be credited almost entirely to H. Wild. His design for field observationsBelow features a coil measuring 10 cm in diameter, containing about 1000 turns of silk-covered copper wire, with a resistance of roughly 40 ohms, pivoted within a metal ring. This ring can rotate around a horizontal axle in its own plane, which is perpendicular to the axle that the coil can rotate around. A divided circle attached to the ring's axle, along with two reading microscopes, allows the inclination of the coil's rotation axis relative to the horizontal to be measured. The bearings that hold the ring's horizontal axle are mounted on a horizontal annulus that can rotate in a groove attached to the instrument's base, enabling adjustments to the azimuth of the ring's axle and consequently the plane in which the coil's axis can move. The coil is rotated using a flexible shaft operated by a small cranked handle and a set of gears. The coil's terminals connect to a standard two-part commutator, which has two copper brushes resting on it, linked through flexible wires to a sensitive galvanometer. The axis's inclination can be roughly adjusted manually by turning the supporting ring, while the final adjustment is made using a micrometer screw attached to an arm secured to the ring's axle.

When making a measurement the azimuth circle is first set horizontal, a striding level placed on the trunnions which carry the ring being used to indicate when the adjustment is complete. The striding level is then placed on the axle which carries the coil, and when the bubble is at the centre of the scale the microscopes are adjusted to the zeros of the vertical circle. A box containing a long compass needle and having two feet with inverted V’s is placed to rest on the axle of the coil, and the instrument is turned in azimuth till the compass needle points to a lubber line on the box. By this means the axis of the coil is brought into the magnetic meridian. The commutator being connected to a sensitive galvanometer, the coil is rotated, and the ring adjusted till the galvanometer is undeflected. The reading on the vertical circle then gives the dip. By a system of reversals slight faults in the adjustment of the instrument can be eliminated as in the case of the dip circle. With such an instrument it is claimed that readings of dip can be made accurate to ±0.1 minutes of arc.

When taking a measurement, the azimuth circle is first leveled horizontally, and a striding level is placed on the trunnions that support the ring to show when the adjustment is finished. Next, the striding level is set on the axle that holds the coil, and when the bubble is centered on the scale, the microscopes are adjusted to the zero points of the vertical circle. A box containing a long compass needle with two legs shaped like inverted V’s is then placed on the axle of the coil, and the instrument is rotated in azimuth until the compass needle aligns with a mark on the box. This process brings the coil's axis into line with the magnetic meridian. The commutator is connected to a sensitive galvanometer, and as the coil is rotated, the ring is adjusted until the galvanometer shows no deflection. The reading on the vertical circle then indicates the dip. Using a system of reversals helps eliminate minor errors in the instrument's adjustment, similar to what is done with a dip circle. It is claimed that using this instrument, dip readings can be accurate to ±0.1 minutes of arc.

The form of Wild inductor for use in a fixed observatory differs from the above in that the coil consists of a drum-wound armature, but without iron, of which the length is about three times the diameter. This armature has its axle mounted in a frame attached to the sloping side of a stone pillar, so that the axis of rotation is approximately parallel to the lines of force of the earth’s field. By means of two micrometer screws the inclination of the axis to the magnetic meridian and to the horizontal can be adjusted. The armature is fitted with a commutator and a system of gear wheels by means of which it can be rapidly rotated. The upper end of the axle carries a plane mirror, the normal to which is adjusted parallel to the axis of rotation of the armature. A theodolite is placed on the top of the pillar and the telescope is turned so that the image of the cross-wires, seen by reflection in the mirror, coincides with the wires themselves. In this way the axis of the theodolite telescope is placed parallel to the axis of the armature, and hence the dip can be read off on the altitude circle of the theodolite.

The design of the Wild inductor for use in a fixed observatory differs from the previous model in that the coil is made up of a drum-wound armature without iron, with a length about three times its diameter. This armature is mounted on an axle within a frame attached to the sloping side of a stone pillar, aligning the axis of rotation roughly parallel to the Earth's magnetic field lines. Two micrometer screws allow for adjusting the inclination of the axis to both the magnetic meridian and the horizontal. The armature is equipped with a commutator and a gear system that enables rapid rotation. The top end of the axle has a flat mirror, which is adjusted so that its normal is parallel to the armature's rotation axis. A theodolite is positioned on top of the pillar, and the telescope is turned so that the image of the cross-wires, reflected in the mirror, aligns with the actual wires. This setup ensures that the axis of the theodolite telescope is parallel to the armature's axis, allowing the dip to be read on the theodolite's altitude circle.

Authorities.—In addition to the references already given the following papers may be consulted: (1) Admiralty Manual of Scientific Inquiry, which contains directions for making observations with a dip circle; (2) Stewart and Gee, Elementary Practical Physics, which contains a full description of the dip circle and instructions for making a set of observations; (3) L. A. Bauer, Terrestrial Magnetism (1901), 6, p. 31, a memoir which contains the results of a comparison of the values for the dip obtained with a number of different circles; (4) E. Leyst, Repertorium für Meteorologie der kaiserl. Akad. der Wiss. (St Petersburg, 1887), 10, No. 5, containing a discussion of the errors of dip circles; (5) H. Wild, Bull. de l’Acad. Imp. des Sci. de St Pétersbourg (March 1895), a paper which considers the accuracy obtainable with the earth inductor.

Authorities.—In addition to the references already provided, you can consult the following papers: (1) Admiralty Manual of Scientific Inquiry, which offers guidance on how to make observations using a dip circle; (2) Stewart and Gee, Elementary Practical Physics, which includes a detailed description of the dip circle and instructions for conducting a set of observations; (3) L. A. Bauer, Terrestrial Magnetism (1901), 6, p. 31, a report that presents the results of comparing dip values obtained with various circles; (4) E. Leyst, Repertorium für Meteorologie der kaiserl. Akad. der Wiss. (St Petersburg, 1887), 10, No. 5, which discusses the errors associated with dip circles; (5) H. Wild, Bull. de l’Acad. Imp. des Sci. de St Pétersbourg (March 1895), a paper that examines the accuracy achievable with the earth inductor.

(W. Wn.)

1 Repertorium für Meteorologie der kaiserl. Akad. der Wissensch. (St Petersburg, 1892), 16, No. 2, or Meteorolog. Zeits. (1895), 12, p. 41.

1 Repertory for Meteorology of the Imperial Academy of Sciences. (St Petersburg, 1892), 16, No. 2, or Meteorological Journal. (1895), 12, p. 41.

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INCLOSURE, or Enclosure, in law, the fencing in of waste or common lands by the lord of the manor for the purpose of cultivation. For the history of the inclosure of such lands, and the legislation, dating from 1235, which deals with it, see COMMONS.

INCLOSURE, or Enclosure, in law, refers to the practice of fencing off unused or common lands by the lord of the manor for farming purposes. For the history of the enclosure of these lands and the legislation starting from 1235 that addresses it, see COMMONS.


IN COENA DOMINI, a papal bull, so called from its opening words, formerly issued annually on Holy Thursday (in Holy Week), or later on Easter Monday. Its first publication was in 1363. It was a statement of ecclesiastical censure against heresies, schisms, sacrilege, infringement of papal and ecclesiastical privileges, attacks on person and property, piracy, forgery and other crimes. For two or three hundred years it was varied from time to time, receiving its final form from Pope Urban VIII. in 1627. Owing to the opposition of the sovereigns of Europe both Protestant and Catholic, who regarded the bull as an infringement of their rights, its publication was discontinued by Pope Clement XIV. in 1770.

IN COENA DOMINI, a papal bull named after its opening words, which was issued annually on Holy Thursday (during Holy Week) or later on Easter Monday. It was first published in 1363. The bull served as a declaration of ecclesiastical censure against heresies, schisms, sacrilege, violations of papal and church privileges, attacks on individuals and property, piracy, forgery, and other offenses. For two or three hundred years, it was updated occasionally and received its final form from Pope Urban VIII in 1627. Due to the opposition from both Protestant and Catholic monarchs in Europe, who saw the bull as an infringement on their rights, Pope Clement XIV stopped its publication in 1770.


INCOME TAX, in the United Kingdom a general tax on income derived from every source. Although a graduated tax on income from certain fixed sources was levied in 1435 and again in 1450, it may be said that the income tax in its present form dates in England from its introduction by W. Pitt in 1798 “granting to His Majesty an aid and contribution for the prosecution of the war.” This act of 1798 merely increased the duties of certain assessed taxes, which were regulated by the amount of income of the person assessed, provided his income amounted to £60 or upwards. These duties were repealed by an act of 1799 (39 Geo. III. c. 13), which imposed a duty of 10% on all incomes from whatever sources derived, incomes under £60 a year being exempt, and reduced rates charged on incomes between that amount and £200 a year. The produce of this tax was £6,046,624 for the first year, as compared with £1,855,996, the produce of the earlier tax. This income tax was repealed after the peace of Amiens, but the renewal of the war in 1803 caused its revival. At the same time was introduced the principle of “collection at the source” (i.e. collection before the income reaches the person to whom it belongs), which is still retained in the English Revenue system, and which, it has been said, is mainly responsible for the present development of income tax and the ease with which it is collected. The act of 1803 (43 Geo. III. c. 122) distributed the various descriptions of income under different schedules, known as A, B, C, D and E. A rate of 5% was imposed on all incomes of £150 a year and over, with graduation on incomes between £60 and £150. This income tax of 5% collected at the source yielded almost as much as the previous tax of 10% collected direct from each taxpayer. The tax was continued from year to year with the principle unchanged but with variations in the rate until the close of the war in 1815, when it was repealed. It was, during its first imposition, regarded as essentially a war tax, and in later days, when it was reimposed, it was always considered as an emergency tax, to be levied only to relieve considerable financial strain, but it has now taken its place as a permanent source of national income, and is the most productive single tax in the British financial system. The income tax was revived in 1842 by Sir R. Peel, not as a war tax, but to enable him to effect important financial reforms (see Taxation). Variations both in the rate levied and the amount of income exempted have taken place from time to time, the most important, probably, being found in the Finance Acts of 1894, 1897, 1898, 1907 and 1909-1910.

INCOME TAX, in the United Kingdom, is a general tax on income from all sources. While a graduated tax on income from certain fixed sources was introduced in 1435 and again in 1450, the income tax in its current form began in England with W. Pitt's introduction in 1798, “granting to His Majesty an aid and contribution for the prosecution of the war.” This 1798 act simply raised the duties on certain assessed taxes, which were based on the income of the person assessed, provided their income was £60 or more. These duties were repealed in 1799 (39 Geo. III. c. 13), which established a 10% duty on all incomes from any source, exempting incomes under £60 a year and applying reduced rates to incomes between that amount and £200 a year. This tax raised £6,046,624 in its first year, compared to £1,855,996 from the earlier tax. The income tax was repealed after the peace of Amiens, but the renewal of war in 1803 led to its reinstatement. At that time, the principle of “collection at the source” (i.e. collecting before the income reaches the person entitled to it) was introduced, a method still used in the English Revenue system, which is largely credited with the current development of income tax and its efficient collection. The 1803 act (43 Geo. III. c. 122) categorized income into different schedules, labeled A, B, C, D, and E. A rate of 5% was applied to all incomes of £150 a year and above, with a graduated scale for incomes between £60 and £150. This 5% income tax collected at the source generated almost the same revenue as the previous 10% tax collected directly from each taxpayer. The tax continued annually with the same principle but with rate changes until the end of the war in 1815, when it was repealed. Initially, it was seen as a war tax, and when reinstated later, it was regarded as an emergency tax to alleviate significant financial pressure, but it has since become a permanent part of national income and is the most productive individual tax in the British financial system. Sir R. Peel revived the income tax in 1842, not as a war tax, but to facilitate significant financial reforms (see Taxation). There have been changes in both the rates charged and the amounts of income exempted over time, with key adjustments found in the Finance Acts of 1894, 1897, 1898, 1907, and 1909-1910.

It will be useful to review the income tax as it existed before the important changes introduced in 1909. It was, speaking broadly, a tax levied on all incomes derived from sources within the United Kingdom, or received by residents in the United Kingdom from other sources. Incomes under £160 were exempt; an abatement allowed of £160 on those between £160 and £400; of £150 on those between £400 and £500; of £120 on those between £500 and £600, and of £70 on those between £600 and £700. An abatement was also allowed on account of any premiums paid for life insurance, provided they did not exceed one-sixth of the total income. The limit of total exemption was fixed in 1894, when it was raised from £150; and the scale of abatements was revised in 1898 by admitting incomes between £500 and £700; the Finance Act 1907 distinguished between “earned” and “unearned” income, granting relief to the former over the latter by 3d. in the pound, where the income from all sources did not exceed £2000. The tax was assessed as mentioned above, under five different schedules, known as A, B, C, D and E. Under schedule A was charged the income derived from landed property, including houses, the annual value or rent being the basis of the assessment. The owner is the person taxed, whether he is or is not in occupation. In England the tax under this schedule is obtained from the occupier, who, if he is not the owner, recovers from the latter by deducting the tax from the rent. In Scotland this tax is usually paid by the owner as a matter of convenience, but in Ireland it is by law chargeable to him. All real property is subject to the tax, with certain exceptions:—(a) crown property, such as public offices, prisons, &c.; (b) certain properties belonging to charitable and educational bodies, as hospitals, public schools, colleges, almshouses, &c.; (c) public parks or recreation grounds; (d) certain realities of companies such as mines, quarries, canals, &c., from which no profit is derived beyond the general profit of the concern to which they belong. Under schedule B were charged the profits arising from the occupation of land, the amount of such profits being assumed to be one-third of the annual value of the land as fixed for the purposes of schedule A. This applies principally to farmers who might, if they chose, be assessed on schedule D on their actual profits. Schedule C included income derived from interest, &c., payable out of the public funds of the United Kingdom or any other country. Schedule D, the most important branch of the income tax and the most difficult to assess, included profits arising from trade, from professional or other employment, and from foreign property, the assessment in most cases being made on an average of the receipts for three years. Schedule E covered the salaries and pensions of persons in the employment of the state or of public bodies, and of the officials of public companies, &c. The method of assessment and collection of the tax is uniformly the same. Under schedules A, B and D it is in the hands of local authorities known as the General or District Commissioners of Taxes. They are appointed by the Land Tax Commissioners out of their own body, and, as regards assessment, are not in any way controlled by the executive government. They appoint a clerk, who is their principal officer and legal adviser, assessors for each parish and collectors. There is an appeal from their decisions to the High Court of Justice on points of law, but not on questions of fact. Assessments under schedules A and B are usually made every five years, and under schedule D every year. The interests of the revenue are looked after by officers of the Board of Inland Revenue, styled surveyors of taxes, who are stationed in different parts of the country. They are in constant communication with the Board, and with the public on all matters relating to the assessment and collection of the tax; they attend the meetings of the local commissioners, examine the assessments and the taxpayers’ returns, and watch the progress of the collection. There are also certain officers, known as special commissioners, who are appointed by the crown, and receive fixed salaries from public funds. For the purpose of schedule D, any taxpayer may elect to be assessed by them instead of by the local commissioners; and those who object to their affairs being disclosed to persons in their own neighbourhood may thus have their assessments made without any risk of publicity. The special commissioners also assess the profits of railway companies under schedule D, and profits arising from foreign or colonial sources under schedules C and D. The greater part of the incomes under schedule E is assessed by the commissioners for public offices, appointed by the several departments of the government.

It will be helpful to look back at the income tax system as it was before the major changes made in 1909. Generally speaking, it was a tax applied to all incomes earned from sources within the United Kingdom or received by residents of the United Kingdom from outside sources. Incomes under £160 were exempt; there was an allowance of £160 on incomes between £160 and £400; £150 for those between £400 and £500; £120 for those between £500 and £600, and £70 for those between £600 and £700. A deduction was also allowed for life insurance premiums, as long as they didn’t exceed one-sixth of the total income. The total exemption limit was set in 1894, when it was increased from £150, and the allowance levels were updated in 1898 to include incomes between £500 and £700; the Finance Act of 1907 made a distinction between “earned” and “unearned” income, giving some relief for earned income over unearned by 3d. per pound, for those with total income not exceeding £2000. The tax was assessed according to five different schedules, labeled A, B, C, D, and E. Schedule A covered income from real estate, including properties, with the annual value or rent serving as the assessment basis. The property owner is taxed, regardless of whether they occupy it or not. In England, the tax under this schedule is usually collected from the occupant, who can deduct it from their rent if they aren't the owner. In Scotland, owners typically pay this tax for convenience, while in Ireland it is legally charged to them. All real property is subject to this tax, with some exceptions: (a) crown properties like public offices, prisons, etc.; (b) certain properties owned by charitable and educational organizations, such as hospitals, public schools, colleges, and almshouses; (c) public parks or recreation areas; (d) certain properties owned by companies, such as mines, quarries, and canals, from which no profit is made beyond the general profits of the entity they belong to. Schedule B taxed the profits from land occupation, assuming that these profits were one-third of the land’s annual value as indicated in schedule A. This primarily applies to farmers, who could opt to be assessed under schedule D based on their actual profits. Schedule C included income from interest payable out of the public funds of the UK or any other country. Schedule D, the most significant part of the income tax and also the hardest to assess, covered profits from business, professional activities, and foreign property, usually assessed on the average of receipts for three years. Schedule E included salaries and pensions for people working in state employment, public bodies, and officials of public companies, etc. The assessment and collection of the tax follow a standard procedure. For schedules A, B, and D, local authorities known as the General or District Commissioners of Taxes handle it. They are appointed by the Land Tax Commissioners from within their ranks, and regarding assessments, they are not controlled by any government executive. They appoint a clerk, who is their main officer and legal advisor, as well as assessors for each parish and collectors. There is an option to appeal their decisions to the High Court of Justice on legal issues, but not on factual matters. Assessments under schedules A and B usually occur every five years and under schedule D every year. The interests of the revenue are overseen by officers of the Board of Inland Revenue, known as surveyors of taxes, stationed throughout the country. They maintain regular communication with the Board and with the public regarding all tax assessment and collection matters; they attend meetings with local commissioners, review assessments and taxpayer returns, and monitor the collection progress. There are also special commissioners appointed by the crown, who receive fixed salaries from public funds. For schedule D, any taxpayer may choose to be assessed by them instead of the local commissioners; this option allows those who wish to keep their financial matters private to have their assessments done without public exposure. The special commissioners also assess profits from railway companies under schedule D and profits from foreign or colonial sources under schedules C and D. Most incomes under schedule E are assessed by commissioners for public offices, appointed by various government departments.

Previously to 1909 the rate of income tax has been as high as 16d. (in 1855-1857), and as low as 2d. (in 1874-1876). Each penny of the tax was estimated to produce in 1906-1907 a revenue of £2,666,867.1

Previously to 1909, the income tax rate was as high as 16d. (in 1855-1857) and as low as 2d. (in 1874-1876). Each penny of the tax was estimated to generate a revenue of £2,666,867 in 1906-1907. 1

It had long been felt that there were certain inequalities in the income tax which could be adjusted without any considerable difficulty, and from time to time committees have met and reported upon the subject. Select committees reported in 1851-1852 and in 1861, and a Departmental Committee in 1905. In 1906 a select committee was appointed to inquire into and report upon the practicability of graduating the income tax, and of differentiating, for the purpose of the tax, between permanent and precarious incomes. The summary of the conclusions contained in their Report (365 of 1906) was:—

It had been widely recognized that there were certain inequalities in the income tax that could be adjusted with relative ease, and over time, various committees have convened and reported on the matter. Select committees reported in 1851-1852 and in 1861, and a Departmental Committee in 1905. In 1906, a select committee was tasked with investigating and reporting on the feasibility of adjusting the income tax rates and distinguishing between stable and unstable incomes for tax purposes. The summary of the conclusions included in their Report (365 of 1906) was:—

1. Graduation of the income tax by an extension of the existing system of abatements is practicable. But it could not be applied to all incomes from the highest to the lowest, with satisfactory results. The limits of prudent extension would be reached when a large increase in the rate of tax to be collected at the source was necessitated, and the total amount which was collected in excess of what was ultimately retained became so large as to cause serious inconvenience to trade and commerce and to individual taxpayers. Those limits 357 would not be exceeded by raising the amount of income on which an abatement would be allowed to £1000 or even more.

1. Making the income tax more flexible by extending the current system of deductions is doable. However, it can't be applied to all incomes, from the highest to the lowest, with satisfactory outcomes. The point of reasonable extension would be reached when a significant increase in the tax rate collected at the source was required, and the total amount collected beyond what was eventually kept became so large that it caused serious issues for businesses and individual taxpayers. Those limits wouldn’t be exceeded by raising the income threshold for deductions to £1000 or even higher. 357

2. Graduation by a super-tax is practicable. If it be desired to levy a much higher rate of tax upon large incomes (say of £5000 and upwards) than has hitherto been charged, a super-tax based on personal declaration would be a practicable method.

2. A super-tax with graduated rates is doable. If the goal is to impose a significantly higher tax rate on large incomes (like £5000 and above) than what has been charged in the past, a super-tax based on personal declarations would be a feasible approach.

3. Abandonment of the system of “collection at the source” and adoption of the principle of direct personal assessment of the whole of each person’s income would be inexpedient.

3. Giving up the “collection at the source” system and switching to the principle of directly assessing each person’s total income would not be a good idea.

4. Differentiation between earned and unearned incomes is practicable, especially if it be limited to earned incomes not exceeding £3000 a year, and effect be given to it by charging a lower rate of tax upon them.

4. It's possible to differentiate between earned and unearned income, especially if we limit it to earned incomes up to £3000 a year, and implement this by applying a lower tax rate on them.

5. A compulsory personal declaration from each individual of total net income in respect of which tax is payable is expedient, and would do much to prevent the evasion and avoidance of income tax which at present prevail.

5. A mandatory personal declaration from each person regarding their total net income that is subject to tax is necessary and would greatly help to prevent the evasion and avoidance of income tax that is currently common.

Acting upon the report of this committee the Finance Bill of 1909 was framed to give effect to the principles of graduation and differentiation. The rate upon the earned portion of incomes of persons whose total income did not exceed £3000 was left unchanged, viz. 9d. in the pound up to £2000, and 1s. in the pound between £2000 and £3000. But the rate of 1s. in the pound on all unearned incomes and on the earned portion of incomes over £2000 from all sources was raised to 1s. 2d. In addition to the ordinary tax of 1s. 2d. in the pound, a super-tax of 6d. in the pound was levied on all incomes exceeding £5000 a year, the super-tax being paid upon the amount by which the incomes exceed £3000 a year. A special abatement of £10 a child for every child under the age of sixteen was allowed upon all incomes under £500 a year. No abatements or exemptions were allowed to persons not resident in the United Kingdom, except in the case of crown servants and persons residing abroad on account of their health. Certain abatements for improvements were also allowed to the owners of land or houses.

Based on the committee's report, the Finance Bill of 1909 was created to implement the principles of graduation and differentiation. The tax rate on the earned part of incomes for individuals with a total income of £3000 or less remained the same, specifically 9d. in the pound for the first £2000 and 1s. in the pound for income between £2000 and £3000. However, the rate of 1s. in the pound on all unearned incomes and on the earned portion of incomes over £2000 from any source was increased to 1s. 2d. In addition to the regular tax of 1s. 2d. in the pound, a super-tax of 6d. in the pound was imposed on all incomes exceeding £5000 a year, with the super-tax applied to the amount that exceeds £3000 per year. A special allowance of £10 per child for each child under the age of sixteen was permitted for all incomes under £500 a year. There were no allowances or exemptions for individuals not living in the United Kingdom, except for crown servants and those living abroad for health reasons. Certain allowances for improvements were also available for land or property owners.

The estimated increased yield of the income tax for 1909-1910 on these lines was £2,500,000, which excluded the abatements allowed for improvements. The super-tax was estimated to yield a sum of £500,000, which would be increased ultimately to £2,500,000, when all returns and assessments were made.

The estimated increase in income tax revenue for 1909-1910 based on these adjustments was £2,500,000, not including the deductions allowed for improvements. The super-tax was projected to generate £500,000, which would eventually rise to £2,500,000 once all returns and assessments were completed.

The following accounts show the operation of the same system of taxation in other countries:—2

The following accounts illustrate how the same taxation system works in other countries:—2

Austria.—The income tax dates from 1849, but the existing tax, which is arranged on a progressive system, came into force on the 1st of January 1898. The tax is levied on net income, deductions from the gross income being allowed for upkeep of business, houses and lands, for premiums paid for insurance against injuries, for interest on business and private debts, and for payment of taxes other than income tax. Incomes under £50 a year are exempt, the rate of taxation at the first stage (£52) being 0.6 of the income; at the twelfth stage (£100) the rate is 1%, at the twenty-seventh stage (£300) it rises to 2%, at the forty-third stage (£1000) it is 3%, and at the fifty-sixth (£2500) it is 3½%; an income of £4000 pays 4%; from £4000 up to £8333 per annum progression rises at £166 a step, and for every step £8, 6s. 8d. taxation is assessed. Incomes between £8333 and £8750 pay £387, 10s.; incomes over £8750 are taxed £20, 6s. 8d. at each successive stage of £417, 10s. Certain persons are exempt from the tax, viz.:—(a) the emperor; (b) members of the imperial family, as far as regards such sums as they receive as allowances; (c) the diplomatic corps, the consular corps who are not Austrian citizens, and the official staffs and foreign servants of the embassies, legations and consulates; (d) such people as are exempted by treaty or by the law of nations; (e) people in possession of pensions from the Order of Maria Theresa, and those who receive pensions on account of wounds or the pension attached to the medal for bravery, are exempted as far as the pensions are concerned; (f) officers, chaplains and men of the army and navy have no tax levied on their pay; (g) all other military persons, and such people as are included in the scheme of mobilization are exempted from any tax on their pay. Special allowances are made for incomes derived from labour, either physical or mental, as well as for a family with several children. There are also special exemptions in certain cases where the annual income does not exceed £4167, 10s., viz.—(a) special charges for educating children who may be blind, deaf, dumb or crippled; (b) expense in maintaining poor relations; (c) perpetual illness; (d) debts; (e) special misfortunes caused by fire or floods; (f) being called out for military service. The tax is assessed usually on a direct return from the individual taxpayer, except in the cases of fixed salaries and wages, on which the tax is collected from the employer, who either deducts it from the salary of the employee or pays it out of his own pocket. The tax, which is assessed on the income of the previous year, is paid direct to the collector’s office in two instalments—one on the 1st of June and the other on the 1st of December.

Austria.—The income tax began in 1849, but the current tax system, which operates on a progressive basis, took effect on January 1, 1898. The tax applies to net income, allowing deductions from gross income for business, property, and land expenses, for insurance premiums against injuries, for interest on business and personal debts, and for payment of taxes other than income tax. Incomes under £50 a year are exempt; the tax rate starts at 0.6% for incomes of £52, increases to 1% at £100, rises to 2% at £300, to 3% at £1000, and to 3.5% at £2500; an income of £4000 is taxed at 4%; incomes between £4000 and £8333 increase by £166 increments, with tax assessed at £8, 6s. 8d. per increment. Incomes between £8333 and £8750 pay £387, 10s.; incomes above £8750 are taxed £20, 6s. 8d. for each additional £417, 10s. Certain individuals are exempt from the tax, including: (a) the emperor; (b) members of the imperial family regarding their allowances; (c) the diplomatic corps, non-Austrian consular staff, and foreign officials and servants of embassies, legations, and consulates; (d) those exempt by treaty or international law; (e) recipients of pensions from the Order of Maria Theresa or those receiving pensions due to disabilities or bravery are exempt regarding their pensions; (f) military and naval officers, chaplains, and personnel do not have tax deducted from their pay; (g) all other military personnel and those mobilized are also exempt from tax on their pay. Special provisions exist for income from labor, whether manual or intellectual, as well as for families with multiple children. There are also exceptions for certain cases where annual income does not exceed £4167, 10s., including: (a) special expenses for educating disabled children; (b) costs for supporting needy relatives; (c) chronic illness; (d) debts; (e) losses from disasters like fires or floods; (f) being called for military service. The tax is usually based on direct returns from individual taxpayers unless it involves fixed salaries and wages, in which case the employer collects the tax, either deducting it from the employee's salary or covering it out of pocket. The tax is based on income from the previous year and is paid directly to the collector's office in two installments—one on June 1 and the other on December 1.

Belgium.—No income tax proper exists in Belgium, but there is a state tax of 2% on the dividends of joint stock companies.

Belgium.—There is no actual income tax in Belgium, but there is a state tax of 2% on the dividends from joint stock companies.

Denmark.—Income tax is levied under a law of the 15th of May 1903. Incomes under 2000 kroner pay a tax of 1.3%; under 3000 kroner, 1.4%; under 4000 kroner, 1.5%; under 6000 kroner, 1.6%; under 8000 kroner, 1.7%; under 10,000 kroner, 1.8%; under 15,000 kroner, 1.9%; under 20,000 kroner, 2.0% and for every additional 10,000 kroner up to 100,000 kroner 1%, incomes of 100,000 kroner and upwards paying 2.5%. Exempt from the duty are—the king, members of the royal family and the civil list; the legations, staffs and consular officers of foreign powers (not being Danish subjects); foreigners temporarily resident in the country; mortgage societies, credit institutions, savings and loan banks. The increase in capital resulting from an increase in value of properties is not deemed income—on the other hand no deduction in income is made if such properties decrease in value—nor are daily payments and travelling expenses received for the transaction of business on public service, if the person has thereby been obliged to reside outside his own parish. Certain deductions can be made in calculating income—such as working expenses, office expenses, pensions and other burthens, amounts paid for direct taxation, dues to commune and church, tithe, tenant and farming charges, heirs’ allowances and similar burthens; interest on mortgages and other debts, and what has been spent for necessary maintenance or insurance of the property of the taxpayer. There are also certain exemptions with respect to companies not having an establishment in the country.

Denmark.—Income tax is imposed under a law dated May 15, 1903. Incomes below 2000 kroner are taxed at 1.3%; below 3000 kroner, 1.4%; below 4000 kroner, 1.5%; below 6000 kroner, 1.6%; below 8000 kroner, 1.7%; below 10,000 kroner, 1.8%; below 15,000 kroner, 1.9%; below 20,000 kroner, 2.0%; and for each additional 10,000 kroner up to 100,000 kroner, 1%, with incomes of 100,000 kroner and above taxed at 2.5%. Exempt from this tax are the king, members of the royal family, and the civil list; the legations, staff, and consular officers of foreign powers (who are not Danish citizens); foreigners temporarily living in the country; mortgage societies, credit institutions, and savings and loan banks. Increases in capital from rising property values are not considered income—conversely, no deduction is made if such properties lose value—nor are daily allowances or travel expenses received for conducting business on public service counted if the person has to live outside their own parish. Certain deductions can be made when calculating income, such as work expenses, office costs, pensions, and other burdens, amounts paid for direct taxes, dues to the municipality and church, tithes, tenant and farming fees, heirs' allowances, and similar expenses; interest on mortgages and other debts, and costs for necessary maintenance or insurance of the taxpayer's property. There are also specific exemptions for companies that do not have a presence in the country.

France.—There is no income tax in France corresponding exactly to that levied in the United Kingdom. There are certain direct taxes, such as the taxes on buildings, personnelle mobilière, and doors and windows (impôts de répartition)—the tax levied on income from land and from all trades and professions (impôts de quotité) which bear a certain resemblance to portions of the British income tax (see France: Finance). From time to time a graduated income tax has been under discussion in the French Chambers, the proposal being to substitute such a tax for the existing (personnelle mobilière) and doors and windows taxes, but no agreement on the matter has been reached.

France.—There is no income tax in France that directly matches the one in the United Kingdom. There are some direct taxes, like taxes on buildings, personnelle mobilière, and doors and windows (impôts de répartition)—the tax on income from land and from all trades and professions (impôts de quotité) that are somewhat similar to parts of the British income tax (see France: Finance). Occasionally, a graduated income tax has been discussed in the French Chambers, with the idea being to replace the current (personnelle mobilière) and doors and windows taxes, but no agreement has been achieved on the issue.

German Empire.—In Prussia the income tax is levied under a law of the 24th of June 1891. All persons with incomes of over £150 per annum are required to send in an annual declaration of their full income, divided according to four main sources—(a) capital; (b) landed property; (c) trade and industry; (d) employment bringing gain, this latter including the salary or wages of workmen, servants and industrial assistants, military persons and officials; also the receipts of authors, artists, scientists, teachers and tutors. Liability for income tax, however, begins with an income of £45, and rises by a regular system of progression, the rate being about 3% of the income. Thus an income of more than £45, but under £52, 10s. pays a tax of 6s. and so on up to £475, an income over that sum but under £525 paying a tax of 15s. Incomes over £525 rise by steps of £50 up to £1525, for every step £1, 10s. being paid. Incomes between £1526 and £1600 rise by steps of £75, £3 being paid for every step. Between £1601 and £3900, the steps are £100, and the tax £4 a step; from £3901 to £5000 the steps are the same (£100), but the tax is £5 a step. There is also a supplementary tax on property of about 120th% of the assessed value. This supplementary tax is not levied on those whose taxable property does not exceed a total value of £300, nor on those whose annual income does not exceed £45, if the total value of their taxable property does not exceed £1000, nor on women who have members of their own family under age to maintain, nor on orphans under age, nor on persons incapable of earning incomes if their taxable property does not exceed £1000 nor their income £60. There are a number of exemptions from the income tax, some of the more important being—(a) the military incomes of non-commissioned officers and privates, also of all persons on the active list of the army or navy as long as they belong to a unit in war formation; (b) extraordinary receipts from inheritances, presents, insurances, from the sale of real estate not undertaken for purposes of industry or speculation, and similar profits (all of which are reckoned as increases of capital); (c) expenses incurred for the purpose of acquiring, assuring and maintaining income; (d) interest on debts; (e) the regular annual depreciation arising from wear of buildings, machines, tools, &c., in so far as they are not included under working expenses; (f) the contributions which taxpayers are compelled by law or agreement to pay to invalid, accident, old age insurance, widow, orphan and pension funds; (g) insurance premiums. Moreover, persons liable to taxation with an income of not more than £150 may deduct from that income £2, 10s. for every member of their family under fourteen years of age, and abatement is also allowed to persons with incomes up to £475 whose solvency has been unfavourably affected by adverse economic circumstances. The income tax is both levied at the source (as in the case of companies) and assessed on a direct return by the taxpayer of his income from all sources. Salaries are not taxed before payment. Fixed receipts are assessed according to their amount for the taxation year in which the assessment is made, and variable incomes on an 358 average of the three years immediately preceding the assessment. The income tax and the supplementary tax are collected in the first half of the second month of each quarter by the communities (Gemeinden) who bear the whole cost.

German Empire.—In Prussia, the income tax is imposed under a law from June 24, 1891. Everyone earning over £150 a year is required to file an annual declaration of their total income, categorized into four main sources—(a) capital; (b) real estate; (c) trade and industry; (d) employment that generates profit, which includes salaries or wages for workers, servants, industrial assistants, military personnel, and officials; also the earnings of authors, artists, scientists, teachers, and tutors. However, liability for income tax starts at an income of £45 and increases according to a regular progression system, with the rate being about 3% of the income. Therefore, an income over £45 but under £52, 10s. pays a tax of 6s., and so on up to £475, where income above that but below £525 pays a tax of 15s. For incomes above £525, steps of £50 increase the tax by £1, 10s. for each step up to £1525. Incomes between £1526 and £1600 increase in steps of £75, with a tax of £3 for each step. Between £1601 and £3900, the steps are £100, and the tax is £4 per step; from £3901 to £5000, the steps remain £100, but the tax rises to £5 per step. There is also an additional tax on property of about 120th% of the assessed value. This additional tax does not apply to those whose taxable property is valued at £300 or less, or to those with an annual income of £45 or less, if their total taxable property is not more than £1000. It also exempts women supporting underage family members, orphans underage, and individuals unable to earn an income if their taxable property does not exceed £1000 or if their income is £60 or less. There are several exemptions from the income tax, some of the major ones being—(a) military incomes of non-commissioned officers and privates, as well as all active-duty army or navy personnel belonging to a unit in war formation; (b) unexpected earnings from inheritances, gifts, insurance payouts, and the sale of real estate not meant for business or speculation, which are considered capital increases; (c) expenses incurred to earn, ensure, and maintain income; (d) interest on debts; (e) regular annual depreciation due to wear on buildings, machinery, tools, etc., as far as they are not included in working expenses; (f) mandatory contributions for invalid, accident, old age insurance, and widow, orphan, and pension funds; (g) insurance premiums. Additionally, individuals liable for taxation with an income of no more than £150 may deduct £2, 10s. for each family member under fourteen years old, and deductions are also available for those with incomes up to £475 who have been adversely affected by negative economic conditions. The income tax is collected at the source (like with companies) and is also based on a direct return of income from all sources by the taxpayer. Salaries are not taxed before payment. Fixed incomes are assessed based on their amount for the tax year in which the assessment occurs, while variable incomes are averaged over the three years leading up to the assessment. The income tax and supplementary tax are collected in the first half of the second month of each quarter by the local communities (Gemeinden), which cover the entire cost.

In Saxony a graduated tax is in force on all incomes of £20 per annum and upwards. All corporate bodies and individuals who derive their income or any portion of it from Saxony are liable to the extent of that income, except those serving religious, charitable or public purposes. Incomes between £20 and £5000 are divided into 118 classes, in which the rate rises progressively. From £500 to £5000 the classes rise by £50, and above £5000 by £100. The rate of income tax begins at ¼%, i.e. 1s. on an income of £20. An abatement is allowed to those whose incomes do not exceed £155 of £2, 10s. for each child between the ages of six and fourteen years, provided such abatements do not reduce the income by more than one class. In the case of persons with incomes not exceeding £290 abatement (not exceeding three classes) is allowed—(a) when the support of children or indigent relations involves a burden of such a nature as to affect the general standard of living; (b) on account of long-continued illness, involving heavy expense; and, on restoration to health, temporary decrease of wage-earning power; (c) in the case of accidents which have had the same effect.

In Saxony, there is a graduated tax on all incomes of £20 per year and above. All corporations and individuals who earn income or any part of it from Saxony are subject to this tax, except for those involved in religious, charitable, or public services. Incomes between £20 and £5000 are classified into 118 categories, with the rate increasing progressively. From £500 to £5000, the categories increase by £50, and above £5000, they increase by £100. The income tax rate starts at ¼%, which means 1 shilling on an income of £20. A deduction is allowed for those whose incomes do not exceed £155, amounting to £2.50 for each child between the ages of six and fourteen, as long as these deductions do not drop the income by more than one category. For individuals with incomes not exceeding £290, deductions (not exceeding three categories) are permitted—(a) when supporting children or dependent relatives creates a burden that impacts the overall standard of living; (b) due to prolonged illness resulting in significant expenses; and, upon recovery, a temporary reduction in earning capacity; (c) in cases of accidents that have caused similar outcomes.

In Bavaria the existing system of income tax came into force on the 1st of January 1900. The rate on earned income varies according to a scale laid down in article 5 of the law, beginning at .1% for incomes up to £37, 10s. (1s.), being .66% (£2, 5s.) for incomes between £230 and £250; 1.03% (£4) for incomes between £350 and £375; 1.30% (£6, 16s.) for incomes between £475 and £500 and 1.38% (£10) for incomes between £650 and £700. Incomes exceeding £700 and not exceeding £1100 pay £1 on every £50; those between £1100 and £1700, £1, 10s., on every £50, between £1700 and £2050, £2 on every £50; between £2050 and £2500, £2, 10s. on every £50 and beyond £2500, 3% on every £50. Exemptions from earned income tax are similar to those already mentioned in the case of Prussia. Special abatement in the case of incomes not exceeding £250 from all sources is given in consideration of education of children, protracted illness, maintenance of poor relations, serious accidents, &c. The tax on unearned income is at the rate of 1½% on incomes from £3, 10s. to £5; from £6 to £20, 2%; from £21 to £35, 2½%; from £36 to £59, 3%; from £51 to £150, 3½%; from £151 to £5000, 3¾%, and over £5000, 4%. There is a differentiation in assessment on fluctuating and fixed incomes. Fluctuating incomes (e.g. those derived from literary, scientific or artistic work) are assessed at the average receipts of the two past years. Fixed income is returned at the actual amount at the time of assessment, and the assessment for earned income, both fixed and fluctuating, takes place every four years. Income tax is not levied at the source, but on a direct return by the taxpayer. In the case of unearned income, where a person’s yearly unearned income does not exceed £100 and he has no other or only an insignificant additional income, he is required to pay only half the assessed tax. Also in the case where a total income, earned and unearned, does not exceed £250 it may, by claiming abatement on such grounds as the education of children, maintenance of indigent relations, &c., be assessed at the lowest rate but one, or be entirely exempt.

In Bavaria, the current income tax system started on January 1, 1900. The rate on earned income varies according to a scale outlined in article 5 of the law, beginning at 0.1% for incomes up to £37, 10s. (1s.), increasing to 0.66% (£2, 5s.) for incomes between £230 and £250; 1.03% (£4) for incomes between £350 and £375; 1.30% (£6, 16s.) for incomes between £475 and £500; and 1.38% (£10) for incomes between £650 and £700. Incomes exceeding £700 but not exceeding £1100 pay £1 for every £50; those between £1100 and £1700 pay £1, 10s. for every £50; between £1700 and £2050, £2 for every £50; between £2050 and £2500, £2, 10s. for every £50; and over £2500, a rate of 3% for every £50. Exemptions from earned income tax are similar to those in Prussia. A special reduction is given for incomes not exceeding £250 from all sources in consideration of children’s education, prolonged illness, supporting needy relatives, serious accidents, etc. The tax on unearned income is set at 1½% for incomes from £3, 10s. to £5; 2% for incomes from £6 to £20; 2½% for incomes from £21 to £35; 3% for incomes from £36 to £59; 3½% for incomes from £51 to £150; 3¾% for incomes from £151 to £5000; and 4% for incomes over £5000. There is a distinction in assessment for fluctuating and fixed incomes. Fluctuating incomes (like those from literary, scientific, or artistic work) are assessed based on the average earnings of the last two years. Fixed income is reported at the actual amount during the assessment, and the evaluation for earned income—both fixed and fluctuating—occurs every four years. Income tax is not deducted at the source but is paid directly by the taxpayer. If a person's annual unearned income does not exceed £100 and they have no other significant income, they only have to pay half the assessed tax. Additionally, if the total income, earned and unearned, does not exceed £250, it can be assessed at the second-lowest rate or be completely exempt by claiming reductions for reasons such as children's education or supporting impoverished relatives.

In Württemberg the General Income Tax Act came into force on the 1st of April 1905. Article 18 provides a graduated scale of rates on incomes from £25 upwards. Abatements are allowed for the education and support of children, support of indigent relatives, active service in the army and navy, protracted illness and severe accidents or reverses. There is a supplementary tax of 2% on unearned income from certain kinds of property, such as interest or other income derived from invested capital, dividends, &c., from joint-stock companies and annuities of all kinds. The income tax is not levied at the source, but on a direct return by the ratepayers; assessments are made on the current year, except in the case of fluctuating incomes, when they are made on the income of the preceding year.

In Württemberg, the General Income Tax Act went into effect on April 1, 1905. Article 18 outlines a tiered rate structure for incomes starting at £25 and above. Deductions are available for education and support of children, financial assistance for needy relatives, active military duty in the army and navy, prolonged illness, and serious accidents or setbacks. There is an additional tax of 2% on unearned income from specific types of property, like interest or other earnings from invested capital, dividends, etc., from corporations and all kinds of annuities. The income tax is not collected at the source but is based on a direct return from taxpayers; assessments are conducted for the current year, except for fluctuating incomes, which are assessed based on the previous year's income.

Hungary.—There is no income tax in Hungary at all corresponding to that of the United Kingdom, although proposals for such a tax have from time to time been made.

Hungary.—There is no income tax in Hungary that matches that of the United Kingdom, although proposals for such a tax have been suggested from time to time.

Italy.—Graduated income tax in Italy dates from 1864. Incomes are classified according to their characters, and the rate of the tax varies accordingly. In class A¹ are placed incomes derived from interests on capital, and perpetual revenues owned by the state, interests and premiums on communal and provincial loans, dividends of shares issued by companies guaranteed or subsidized by the state lottery prizes. These incomes are assessed at their integral value and pay the full tax of 20%. In class A² are placed incomes derived from capital alone and all perpetual revenues. The assessments on these are reduced to 30/40ths of the actual income and taxed at a rate of 15%. In class B are incomes derived from the co-operation of labour and capital, i.e. those produced by industries and commerce. The assessments of these are reduced to 20/40ths and taxed at 10%. In class C are placed incomes derived from labour alone (private employment) and those represented by temporary revenues or life annuities. Assessments on these are reduced to 18/40ths and taxed at a rate of 9%. In class D are placed incomes from salaries, pensions and all personal allowances made by the state, the provinces and communes. Assessments on these are reduced to 15/40ths and taxed at 7½%. Certain abatements are allowed on small incomes in classes B, C and D. Incomes are assessed (1) on the average of the two preceding years in the case of private industries, professions or companies in which liability is unlimited; (b) on the income of the current year in the case of incomes from dividends, salaries, pensions and fixed allowances, as well as in the case of incomes of communes, provinces and corporations; (c) on the basis of the account closed before the previous July of the current year in the case of incomes of limited liability companies, banks and savings banks.

Italy.—Graduated income tax in Italy has been in place since 1864. Incomes are categorized based on their nature, and the tax rate differs accordingly. In class A¹, we have incomes from interest on capital, permanent revenues owned by the state, interest and premiums on communal and provincial loans, dividends from shares issued by companies backed or subsidized by the state, and lottery prizes. These incomes are assessed at their full value and are taxed at a rate of 20%. In class A², we find incomes from capital only and all permanent revenues. Assessments for these are reduced to 30/40ths of the actual income, with a tax rate of 15%. Class B includes incomes from the collaboration of labor and capital, meaning those generated by industries and commerce. Their assessments are lowered to 20/40ths and taxed at 10%. Class C comprises incomes earned solely from labor (private employment) and those represented by temporary revenues or life annuities. Assessments here are reduced to 18/40ths and taxed at a rate of 9%. Class D includes incomes from salaries, pensions, and all personal allowances provided by the state, provinces, and municipalities. Assessments for these are lowered to 15/40ths and taxed at 7½%. Certain deductions are permitted for smaller incomes in classes B, C, and D. Incomes are assessed (1) based on the average of the two previous years for private industries, professions, or companies with unlimited liability; (b) based on the current year's income for dividends, salaries, pensions, and fixed allowances, as well as for incomes from municipalities, provinces, and corporations; (c) based on the account closed before the previous July of the current year for incomes from limited liability companies, banks, and savings banks.

Netherlands.—In the Netherlands there is a property tax imposed upon income derived from capital, as well as a tax on income earned by labour.

Netherlands.—In the Netherlands, there is a property tax on income from capital, as well as a tax on income earned from work.

Norway.—In Norway under the state income tax incomes under 1000 kroner are exempt, those between 1000 and 4000 kroner pay 2% on that part liable to taxation; those between 4000 and 7000 kroner pay 3%; those between 7000 and 10,000 kroner pay 4%, and those above 10,000 kroner 5%. Persons liable to taxation are divided into (a) those who have no one to support, as companies and the like; (b) those who have from one to three persons to support; (c) those who have from four to six persons to support; (d) those who have seven or more persons to support. Those who are counted as dependent upon the taxpayer are his children, own or adopted, his parents, brothers and sisters, and other relations and connexions by marriage who might have a reasonable claim to his support. A certain part of the income liable to taxation is abated by a graduated scale according to the class into which the ratepayer falls.

Norway.—In Norway, individuals earning under 1000 kroner are exempt from the state income tax. Those earning between 1000 and 4000 kroner pay 2% on the taxable portion; those earning between 4000 and 7000 kroner pay 3%; those earning between 7000 and 10,000 kroner pay 4%; and those earning above 10,000 kroner pay 5%. Taxpayers are categorized into (a) those without dependents, like companies; (b) those supporting one to three individuals; (c) those supporting four to six individuals; and (d) those supporting seven or more individuals. Dependents include the taxpayer's own or adopted children, parents, siblings, and other relatives or in-laws who can reasonably claim support. A portion of the taxable income is reduced based on a graduated scale according to the taxpayer's category.

Spain.—In Spain the income tax is divided into (a) that derived from personal exertion and (b) that derived from property. Directors, managers and representatives of banks, companies and societies pay 10%; those employed in banks, &c., commercial houses, and those in private employment, as well as actors, bullfighters, professional pelota-players, acrobats, conjurers, &c., pay 5%. Those employed by the day or those whose salary is under £45 are exempt, as are also masters in primary schools. Income derived from property is taxed according to the source from which the income is derived, e.g. income from shares in public works is rated at 20%, income from shares in ordinary companies, railways, tramways or canals at 3%, from dividends on bank shares at 5%, from mining shares at only 2%. There is also an industry tax, i.e. on the exercise of industrial, commercial and professional enterprises, which tax is divided into five different tariffs, of which I. applies to commerce (vendors), II. also to commerce (middlemen), III. to industry (machinery), IV. to professions and V. to licences (retail and itinerant vendors). Tariff I. is differentiated according to the importance of the business and of the locality in which it is carried on, the rate being fixed by a consideration of the two combined. Tariff II. is differentiated according to the character of the enterprise, its importance and the importance of the locality. Tariff III. is differentiated according to either motive power, output, method, product or locality; Tariff IV. according to the character of the profession and the importance of the locality; Tariff V. is also differentiated according to the locality and the importance of the business.

Spain.—In Spain, the income tax is split into (a) income from personal work and (b) income from property. Directors, managers, and representatives of banks, companies, and organizations pay 10%; while those working in banks, commercial businesses, private employment, as well as actors, bullfighters, professional pelota players, acrobats, magicians, etc., pay 5%. Day laborers and anyone earning less than £45 are exempt, as are primary school teachers. Income from property is taxed based on its source, for example, income from public works shares is taxed at 20%, income from shares in regular companies, railways, tramways, or canals is taxed at 3%, dividends on bank shares are taxed at 5%, and mining shares are taxed at only 2%. There’s also an industry tax, which applies to industrial, commercial, and professional activities, split into five different tariffs: I. for commerce (vendors), II. for commerce (middlemen), III. for industry (machinery), IV. for professions, and V. for licenses (retailers and street vendors). Tariff I. varies based on the size of the business and the location, with rates determined by both factors. Tariff II. varies according to the type of business and its significance in the area. Tariff III. varies based on power source, production, method, product, or location; Tariff IV. varies based on the profession's nature and the area's significance; and Tariff V. also varies based on location and the business's importance.

Switzerland.—The system of income tax varies in the different cantons. Broadly speaking, these may be divided into four different kinds: (1) a graduated property tax, in which the rate applicable to each class of fortune is definitely fixed; (2) a proportional tax, under which property and income are chargeable, each at a fixed rate, while the total amount of the tax is liable to a proportionate increase according to scale if it exceeds certain specified amounts; (3) a system by which property and income are divided into three classes, the rate of the tax being increased by a graduated rise, according to the class to which the property or income belongs, and (4) a uniform rate of tax, with progression in the amount of income liable to taxation.

Switzerland.—The income tax system varies across different cantons. In general, these can be categorized into four types: (1) a graduated property tax, where the rate for each class of wealth is set; (2) a proportional tax, where property and income are taxed at a fixed rate, and the total tax can increase according to a scale if it surpasses certain specified thresholds; (3) a system that categorizes property and income into three classes, where the tax rate rises gradually based on the class of the property or income; and (4) a uniform tax rate, with varying amounts of income subject to taxation.

United States.—One of the means adopted by the Federal Government for meeting its expenses during the Civil War was the levying of an income tax. By the Act of Congress of the 5th of August 1861 a tax of 3% was imposed on all incomes, with an exemption of $800, and was made payable on or before the 30th of June 1862. No tax, however, was assessed under the law. In March 1862 a new income tax bill was introduced into the House of Representatives. This act, which was signed on the 1st of July 1862, imposed a tax of 3% on all incomes not over $10,000, and 5% on all incomes above that sum, with an exemption of $600. It was also provided that dividends of banks, insurance companies and railways should be assessed directly; but the bond-holder was allowed to deduct the dividend so assessed from his taxable income. In the case of government salaries, the tax was deducted before the salaries were paid. The income tax was first levied in 1863. The rate was changed by act of Congress in 1865, 1867 and 1870, and a joint resolution in 1864 imposed a special additional tax of 5% for that year. The tax was finally abolished in 1872. The total amount produced by the tax from the beginning was $376,150,209. The constitutionality of the act was subsequently brought into question, but was upheld by a unanimous decision of the Supreme Court in 1880, which held that the tax was not a direct tax but an excise tax, and that Congress had a right to impose it so long as it was made uniform throughout the United States. On the 27th of August 1894 an income tax act was passed as part of the Wilson Bill. By this act it was provided that a tax of 359 2% on all incomes should be levied from the 1st of January 1895 to the 1st of January 1900, with an exemption of $4000. The legality of the tax was assailed, chiefly on the ground that it was a direct tax, and not apportioned among the several states in proportion to their population. On the 20th of May 1895 the Supreme Court, by a vote of five to four, declared the tax to be unconstitutional. Accordingly, before any federal income tax could be imposed, there was needed an amendment of the constitution, and a movement in this direction gradually began. In the first year of the presidency of Mr W. H. Taft both Houses of Congress passed by the necessary two-thirds majority a resolution to submit the proposal to the 46 states, the wording of the amendment being “That Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several States, and without regard to any census enumeration.”

United States.—One of the ways the Federal Government covered its expenses during the Civil War was by implementing an income tax. By the Act of Congress on August 5, 1861, a tax of 3% was imposed on all incomes, with an exemption of $800, and was due on or before June 30, 1862. However, no tax was actually collected under this law. In March 1862, a new income tax bill was introduced in the House of Representatives. This act, signed on July 1, 1862, imposed a 3% tax on all incomes up to $10,000, and 5% on incomes above that amount, with an exemption of $600. It was also stated that dividends from banks, insurance companies, and railroads would be taxed directly; however, bondholders could subtract these dividends from their taxable income. For government salaries, the tax was deducted before payment. The income tax was first enforced in 1863. The rate was adjusted by acts of Congress in 1865, 1867, and 1870, and a joint resolution in 1864 added a special 5% tax for that year. The tax was ultimately abolished in 1872. The total revenue generated from this tax amounted to $376,150,209. The constitutionality of the act was challenged later, but in 1880, the Supreme Court unanimously upheld it, ruling that the tax was an excise tax, not a direct tax, and that Congress had the authority to impose it as long as it was uniform across the United States. On August 27, 1894, an income tax act was passed as part of the Wilson Bill. This act stipulated that a 2% tax on all incomes would be levied from January 1, 1895, to January 1, 1900, with an exemption of $4,000. The legitimacy of this tax was contested mainly on the grounds that it was a direct tax and not distributed among the states according to their population. On May 20, 1895, the Supreme Court, in a 5-4 decision, ruled the tax unconstitutional. Consequently, any federal income tax would require a constitutional amendment, prompting a gradual movement in this direction. During the first year of W. H. Taft's presidency, both Houses of Congress passed a resolution by the necessary two-thirds majority to submit the proposal to the 46 states, with the amendment stating, “That Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several States, and without regard to any census enumeration.”

Cape Colony.—Cape Colony was the only South African colony which, prior to the Union in 1910, had a system of income tax, which was first imposed by an act of the 31st of May 1904. Incomes not exceeding £1000 per annum were exempt from taxation; incomes exceeding £1000 but not exceeding £2000 were taxed 6d. in the pound on the excess beyond £1000; those between £2000 and £5000 were exempt for the first £1000, paid 6d. in the pound on the next £1000 and 9d. in the pound on the remainder; those exceeding £5000 paid 6d. in the pound on the second £1000, 9d. in the pound on the next £3000 and 1s. in the pound on the remainder.

Cape Colony.—Cape Colony was the only South African colony that had an income tax system before the Union in 1910. This tax was first introduced by an act on May 31, 1904. Incomes up to £1000 per year were exempt from taxation; incomes over £1000 but not exceeding £2000 were taxed at 6d. in the pound on the amount over £1000; incomes between £2000 and £5000 were exempt for the first £1000, taxed at 6d. in the pound on the next £1000, and 9d. in the pound on the remainder; incomes over £5000 were taxed at 6d. in the pound on the second £1000, 9d. in the pound on the next £3000, and 1s. in the pound on the rest.

New South Wales.—Income tax in New South Wales first came into operation on the 1st of January 1896. It is complementary with a land tax, assessed on the unimproved value of freehold lands (with certain exemptions and deductions). Incomes of £200 per annum and under are exempt, and all other incomes (except those of companies) are entitled to a reduction of £200 in their assessments. The rate of tax is 6d. in the pound. There are certain incomes, revenues and funds which are exempt from taxation, such as those of municipal corporations or other local authorities, of mutual life insurance societies and of other companies or societies not carrying on business for purposes of profit or gain, and of educational, ecclesiastical and charitable institutions of a public character, &c.

New South Wales.—Income tax in New South Wales started on January 1, 1896. It works alongside a land tax based on the unimproved value of freehold lands (with some exemptions and deductions). Incomes of £200 per year and below are exempt, and all other incomes (except those from companies) can deduct £200 from their assessments. The tax rate is 6d. per pound. There are certain incomes, revenues, and funds that are exempt from taxation, such as those from municipal corporations or other local authorities, mutual life insurance societies, and other companies or societies that are not operating for profit, as well as educational, religious, and charitable institutions that serve the public, etc.

New Zealand.—In New Zealand the income tax is also complementary with a land tax. Incomes up to £300 per annum are exempt; incomes up to £1000 per annum are taxed 6d. in the pound, with an exemption of £300 and life insurance premiums up to £50; incomes over £1300 pay 1s. in the pound, which is also the tax on the income of trading companies, to whom no exemption is allowed. The income of friendly societies, savings banks, co-operative dairy companies, public societies not carrying on business for profit, &c., are exempt from income tax.

New Zealand.—In New Zealand, the income tax works alongside a land tax. Incomes up to £300 per year are exempt; incomes up to £1000 per year are taxed at 6d. per pound, with an exemption of £300 and life insurance premiums up to £50; incomes over £1300 are taxed at 1s. per pound, which is also the rate for trading companies, which are not allowed any exemptions. The income of friendly societies, savings banks, co-operative dairy companies, public organizations not operating for profit, etc., are exempt from income tax.

Queensland.—In Queensland income tax is levied on (a) income derived from property such as rents, interest, income from companies, royalties, &c., and (b) on income derived from personal exertion. On income derived from property all incomes not exceeding £100 are exempt; incomes between £100 and £120 pay £1 tax; those over £120 but under £300 have £100 exempt and pay 1s. in each and every pound over £100, while incomes over £300 pay 1s. in each and every pound. Incomes from personal exertion pay 10s. between £100 and £125; £1 between £126 and £150; between £151 and £300 have £100 exempt and pay 6d. in each and every pound over £100: between £301 and £500 6d. in every pound; between £501 and £1000 6d. in every pound of the first £500 and 7d. in every pound over £500, between £1001 and £1500 7d. in every pound of the first £1000, and 8d. in every pound over £1000; incomes over £1500 pay 8d. in every pound; 1s. in every pound is charged on the incomes of all companies and of all absentees.

Queensland.—In Queensland, income tax is applied to (a) income from property such as rents, interest, corporate income, royalties, etc., and (b) income from personal efforts. For income from property, all incomes up to £100 are exempt; incomes between £100 and £120 are taxed at £1; those over £120 but under £300 have £100 exempt and are taxed 1s. on every pound over £100, while incomes over £300 are taxed 1s. on every pound. Incomes from personal efforts are taxed at 10s. for amounts between £100 and £125; £1 for amounts between £126 and £150; between £151 and £300 have £100 exempt and are taxed 6d. on every pound over £100; between £301 and £500, it's 6d. on every pound; between £501 and £1000, it's 6d. on the first £500 and 7d. on every pound over £500; between £1001 and £1500, it's 7d. on the first £1000 and 8d. on every pound over £1000; incomes over £1500 are taxed 8d. on every pound; companies and absent individuals are charged 1s. on every pound of income.

South Australia.—The income tax dates from 1884 and is levied on all incomes arising, accruing in or derived from South Australia, except municipal corporations, district councils, societies, &c., not carrying on business for the purpose ot gain, and all friendly societies. Where the income is derived from personal exertion the rate of tax is 4½d. in the pound up to £800, and 7d. in the pound over £800. For income derived from property the rate is 9d. in the pound up to £800, and 1s. 1½d. in the pound over £800. There is an exemption of £150 on incomes up to £400, but no exemption over that limit.

South Australia.—The income tax has been in place since 1884 and is applied to all incomes earned, accrued, or obtained from South Australia, except for municipal corporations, district councils, societies, etc., that are not operating for profit, and all friendly societies. For income derived from personal efforts, the tax rate is 4½d. per pound on income up to £800, and 7d. per pound on income over £800. For income from property, the rate is 9d. per pound on income up to £800, and 1s. 1½d. per pound on income over £800. There is an exemption of £150 for incomes up to £400, but no exemption applies for incomes above that limit.

Tasmania.—In Tasmania there is (a) an income tax proper, and (b) a non-inquisitorial ability tax, one complementary to the other. The income tax proper is levied on all income of any company, at the rate of 1s. for every pound of the taxable amount; on all income of any person, at the rate of 1s. for every pound of the taxable amount derived from property, and on every dividend at the same rate. Personal incomes of £400 and over are assessed at the full amount, but an abatement of £10 for every £50 of income is allowed on incomes below £400 down to incomes of £150, which thus have £50 deducted; incomes between £120 and £150 have £60 deducted; incomes between £110 and £120, £70, and incomes between £100 and £110, £80. The ability tax is paid by (a) occupiers and sub-occupiers of property and (b) by lodgers. The amount of tax paid by occupiers or sub-occupiers is calculated upon the assessed annual value of the property occupied, and that of lodgers from the assessed annual value of their board and lodging. A detailed account of both taxes will be found in House of Commons Papers, No. 282 of 1905.

Tasmania.—In Tasmania, there is (a) an income tax and (b) a non-inquisitional ability tax, which complement each other. The income tax is charged on all income earned by any company at a rate of 1 shilling for every pound of the taxable amount; it also applies to all income earned by individuals at the same rate for taxable income derived from property, and on every dividend at that same rate. Personal incomes of £400 and above are taxed at the full amount, but there is a £10 deduction for every £50 of income for those earning under £400, down to incomes of £150, which receive a £50 deduction; incomes between £120 and £150 receive a £60 deduction; incomes between £110 and £120 get £70 deducted, and incomes between £100 and £110 have £80 removed. The ability tax is paid by (a) property occupiers and sub-occupiers and (b) by lodgers. The tax for occupiers or sub-occupiers is based on the assessed annual value of the property they occupy, while lodgers pay based on the assessed annual value of their board and lodging. A detailed account of both taxes can be found in House of Commons Papers, No. 282 of 1905.

Victoria.—In Victoria the rate of income tax is fixed annually by act. The rate charged on income derived from property is exactly double that charged on income derived from personal exertion, the rate for which for 1905 was: on the first £500 or fractional part thereof, 3d. in the pound; on the second £500 or fractional part thereof, 4d. in the pound; on the third £500 or fractional part thereof, 5d. in the pound; on all incomes in excess of £1500, 6d. in the pound. All companies, except life insurance companies, were charged 7d. in the pound on their incomes; life insurance companies were charged 8d. in the pound.

Victoria.—In Victoria, the income tax rate is set each year by legislation. The rate on income from property is exactly twice that of the rate on income from personal work. For the year 1905, the rates were: on the first £500 or any part of it, 3d. per pound; on the second £500 or any part of it, 4d. per pound; on the third £500 or any part of it, 5d. per pound; and for all income above £1500, 6d. per pound. All companies, except life insurance companies, were taxed at 7d. per pound on their income; life insurance companies were taxed at 8d. per pound.

Bibliography.—The Annual Reports of the Commissioners of Inland Revenue, the Reports of Committees and other references mentioned in the article, as well as Dowell’s History of Taxation in England (1884); Dowell’s Acts relating to the Income Tax (6th ed., 1908), and Robinson’s Law relating to Income Tax (2nd ed., 1908).

References.—The Annual Reports from the Commissioners of Inland Revenue, the Reports from Committees, and other references mentioned in the article, as well as Dowell’s History of Taxation in England (1884); Dowell’s Acts relating to the Income Tax (6th ed., 1908), and Robinson’s Law relating to Income Tax (2nd ed., 1908).


1 Full statistics of the yield of income tax and other information pertaining thereto will be found in the Reports of the Commissioners of His Majesty’s Inland Revenue (published annually); those issued in 1870 and in 1885 are especially interesting.

1 Full statistics on income tax revenue and related information can be found in the Reports of the Commissioners of His Majesty’s Inland Revenue (published every year); the ones from 1870 and 1885 are particularly noteworthy.

2 In Appendix No. 4 to the Report from the Select Committee on Income Tax (1906), will be found a valuable list (prepared in the Library of the London School of Economics) of references to the graduation of the income tax and the distribution of incomes both in the United Kingdom and in other countries.

2 In Appendix No. 4 of the Report from the Select Committee on Income Tax (1906), there is a helpful list (created in the Library of the London School of Economics) of references regarding the sorting of income tax and the distribution of incomes in the United Kingdom and other countries.


INCORPORATION (from Lat. incorporare, to form into a body), in law, the embodying or formation of a legal corporation, brought about either by a general rule contained in such laws, e.g. as the Companies acts, and applicable wherever its conditions are satisfied; or by a special act of sovereign power, e.g. an incorporating statute or charter. The word is used also in the sense of uniting, e.g. a will may incorporate by reference other papers, which may be then taken as part of the will, as much as if they were set out at length in it.

INCORPORATION (from Latin incorporare, meaning to form into a body), in legal terms, refers to creating or forming a legal corporation. This can happen either through a general rule established in laws, e.g. the Companies Acts, which apply wherever their conditions are met, or through a specific act of sovereign power, e.g. an incorporating statute or charter. The term is also used in the context of uniting, e.g. a will may incorporate other documents by reference, which are then considered part of the will, just as if they were fully included in it.


INCUBATION and INCUBATORS. The subject of “incubation” (Lat. incubare, to brood; in-cumbere, to lie on), a term which, while strictly signifying the action of a hen in sitting on her eggs to hatch them, is also used in pathology for the development within the body of the germs of disease, is especially associated with the artificial means, or “incubators,” devised for hatching eggs, or for analogous purposes of an artificial foster-mother nature, or for use in bacteriological laboratories.

INCUBATION and INCUBATORS. The topic of “incubation” (Lat. incubare, to brood; in-cumbere, to lie on), which literally refers to a hen sitting on her eggs to hatch them, is also used in medical terms for the development of disease germs within the body. This term is particularly linked to the artificial methods, or “incubators,” created for hatching eggs, or for similar purposes in an artificial nurturing context, or for use in microbiological labs.

Life is dependent, alike for its awakening and its maintenance, upon the influence of certain physical and chemical factors, among which heat and moisture may be regarded as the chief. It is therefore obvious that any method of incubation must provide for a due degree of temperature and moisture. And this degree must be one within limits, for while all organisms are plastic and can attune themselves to a greater or less range of variation in their physical environment, there is a given degree at which the processes of life in each species proceed most favourably. It is this particular degree, which differs for different species, which must be attained, if artificial incubation is to be successfully conducted. In other words, the degree of temperature and moisture within the incubation drawer must remain uniform throughout the period of incubation if the best results are to be reached. It is not easy to attain these conditions, for there are many disturbing factors. We may therefore next consider the more important of them.

Life relies on certain physical and chemical factors for both its awakening and maintenance, with heat and moisture being the most important. It’s clear that any method of incubation must ensure the right amount of temperature and moisture. This amount must be within specific limits because, while all organisms can adapt to some extent to variations in their physical environment, there is a particular degree at which life processes in each species work best. It’s this specific degree, which varies for each species, that needs to be achieved for successful artificial incubation. In other words, the temperature and moisture levels in the incubation drawer must remain consistent throughout the incubation period to achieve the best results. Achieving these conditions isn’t easy due to various disturbing factors. Therefore, let’s consider the most significant ones next.

The chief causes which operate to make the temperature within the incubator drawer variable are the changes of the temperature of the outer air, fluctuations in the pressure of the gas when that is used as the source of heat, or the gradual diminution of the oxidizing power of the flame and wick when an oil lamp is substituted for gas. Also, the necessary opening of the incubator drawer, either for airing or for sprinkling the eggs with water when that is necessary, tends to reduce the temperature. But there is another equally important though less obvious source of disturbance, and this resides within the organism undergoing incubation. In the case of the chick, at about the ninth or tenth days of incubation important changes are occurring. Between this period and the fourteenth day the chick becomes relatively large and bulky, and the temporary respiratory organ, the allantois, together with its veins, increases greatly in size and extent. As a consequence, the respiratory processes are enabled to proceed with greater activity, and the chemical processes of oxidation thus enhanced necessarily largely increase the amount of heat which the chick itself produces. Thus an incubator, to be successful, must be capable of automatically adjusting itself to this heightened temperature.

The main reasons for the temperature fluctuations inside the incubator drawer are changes in the outside air temperature, variations in gas pressure when gas is used for heat, or the gradual decrease in the burning efficiency of the flame and wick when an oil lamp replaces gas. Additionally, opening the incubator drawer for airing or to sprinkle the eggs with water can lower the temperature. However, there's another equally important but less obvious source of disturbance from within the organism being incubated. For the chick, significant changes occur around the ninth or tenth day of incubation. Between this time and the fourteenth day, the chick grows relatively large and bulky, and the temporary respiratory organ, the allantois, along with its veins, expands significantly. As a result, the respiratory processes become more active, and the enhanced chemical oxidation processes considerably increase the heat produced by the chick itself. Therefore, for an incubator to be effective, it must be able to automatically adjust to this increased temperature.

The drawer of an incubator is a confined space and is usually packed as closely as possible with the contained eggs. The eggs are living structures and consequently need air. This necessitates some method of direct ventilation, and this in its turn necessarily increases the evaporation of water vapour from the surface of the egg. Unless, therefore, this evaporation is checked, the eggs will be too dry at the period—from the tenth day onwards—when 360 moisture is more than ever an important factor. There is, according to some poultry authorities, reason to believe that the sitting hen secretes some oily substance which, becoming diffused over the surface of the egg, prevents or retards evaporation from within; presumably, this oil is permeable to oxygen. In nature, with the sitting hen, and in the “Mamal” artificial incubating establishments of the Egyptians, direct air currents do not exist, owing to the large size of the chambers, and consequently incubation can be successfully achieved without any special provision for the supply of moisture.

The drawer of an incubator is a tight space and is usually filled as much as possible with the eggs inside. The eggs are living organisms and therefore need air. This requires a way to ventilate directly, which in turn increases the evaporation of water vapor from the egg’s surface. Unless this evaporation is managed, the eggs will become too dry starting from the tenth day, when moisture becomes crucial. Some poultry experts believe that a hen secretes an oily substance that spreads across the egg’s surface, preventing or slowing down evaporation from inside; this oil likely allows oxygen to pass through. In nature, with a sitting hen, and in the “Mamal” artificial incubating setups of the Egyptians, there aren’t direct air currents due to the large size of the chambers, so incubation can still be successfully carried out without any special moisture supply.

Artificial incubation has been known to the Egyptians and the Chinese from almost time immemorial. In Egypt, at Berme on the Delta, the trade of artificial hatching is traditionally transmitted from father to son, and is consequently confined to particular families. The secrets of the process are guarded with a religious zeal, and the individuals who practise it are held under plighted word not to divulge them. It is highly probable that the process of artificial incubation as practised by the Egyptians is not so simple as it is believed to be. But as far as the structures and processes involved have been ascertained by travellers, it appears that the “Mamal” is a brick building, consisting of four large ovens, each of such a size that several men could be contained within it. These ovens are in pairs, in each pair one oven being above the other, on each side of a long passage, into which they open by a circular aperture, just large enough for a man to obtain access to each. The eggs are placed in the middle of the floor of the oven, and in the gutters round the sides the fire is lighted. The material for this latter, according to one account, consists of camels’ dung and chopped hay, and according to another of horses’ dung. The attainment of the right degree of heat is apparently reached wholly by the skill of the persons employed. When this has been attained, they plug the entrance hole with coarse tow. On the tenth to twelfth days they cease to light the fires.

Artificial incubation has been known to the Egyptians and the Chinese for a very long time. In Egypt, in a place called Berme on the Delta, the practice of artificial hatching is traditionally passed down from father to son, so it’s typically limited to certain families. The secrets of the process are protected with great care, and the people who do it are sworn not to reveal them. It’s likely that the method of artificial incubation used by the Egyptians is more complex than it’s thought to be. However, based on what travelers have discovered about the structures and methods involved, it seems that the “Mamal” is a brick building with four large ovens, each big enough for several men to fit inside. The ovens are arranged in pairs, with one on top of the other, on either side of a long passage that they open into through a circular hole just large enough for a person to enter. The eggs are placed in the middle of the oven's floor, and a fire is started in the gutters running around the sides. According to one source, the fuel for this fire is made of camel dung and chopped hay, while another says it’s horse manure. Achieving the right level of heat seems to depend completely on the skill of the workers. Once they reach the desired temperature, they seal the entrance with rough tow. On the tenth to twelfth days, they stop lighting the fires.

Each “Mamal” may contain from 40,000 to 80,000 eggs. There are 386 “Mamals” in the country, which are only worked for six months of the year, and produce in that time eight broods. Many more than two-thirds of the eggs put in are successfully hatched. It is estimated that 90,000,000 eggs are annually hatched by the Bermeans.

Each “Mamal” can have between 40,000 and 80,000 eggs. There are 386 “Mamals” in the country, which are only active for six months out of the year and produce eight broods during that time. More than two-thirds of the eggs that are laid successfully hatch. It’s estimated that 90,000,000 eggs are hatched each year by the Bermeans.

A method of incubating that appears to have been altogether overlooked in England—or at least never to have been practised—is that carried on by the Couveurs or professional hatchers in France. They make use of hen-turkeys for the purpose, and each bird can be made to sit continuously for from three to six months. The modus operandi is as follows: a dark room which is kept at a constant temperature throughout the year contains a number of boxes, just large enough to accommodate a turkey. The bottom of the box is filled with some vegetable material, bracken, hay, heather, straw or cocoa-fibres. Each box is covered in with lattice-work wire, so arranged that the freedom of the sitting bird is limited and its escape prevented. Dummy eggs, made by emptying addled ones and filling with plaster of Paris, are then placed in the nest and a bird put in. At first it endeavours to escape, but after an interval of a few days it becomes quiet, and the dummy eggs being then removed, fresh ones are inserted. As soon as the chickens are hatched, they are withdrawn and fresh eggs substituted. The hen turkeys are also used successfully as foster-mothers. Each bird can adequately cover about two dozen eggs.

A method of incubation that seems to have been completely overlooked in England—or at least never practiced— is the one used by the Couveurs or professional hatchers in France. They utilize hen-turkeys for this purpose, and each bird can be trained to sit continuously for three to six months. The process works like this: a dark room kept at a constant temperature year-round contains several boxes, just big enough for a turkey. The bottom of each box is filled with some type of plant material, such as bracken, hay, heather, straw, or cocoa fibers. Each box is covered with lattice-wire, arranged to limit the sitting bird's movement and prevent escape. Dummy eggs, made by emptying spoiled ones and filling them with plaster of Paris, are placed in the nest, and a bird is put inside. At first, it tries to escape, but after a few days, it calms down, and then the dummy eggs are removed and replaced with fresh ones. Once the chicks hatch, they are taken out and fresh eggs are substituted. The hen turkeys are also effectively used as foster mothers. Each bird can adequately cover about two dozen eggs.

Incubation as an industry in Europe and America is of recent development. The growing scarcity of game birds of all kinds, coincident with the increase of population, and the introduction of the breech-loading gun, together with the marked revival of interest in fancy poultry about the year 1870, led, however, to the production of a great variety of appliances designed to render artificial incubation successful.

Incubation as an industry in Europe and America is a recent development. The increasing shortage of game birds of all types, combined with a growing population and the introduction of breech-loading guns, along with a noticeable resurgence of interest in fancy poultry around 1870, resulted in the creation of a wide range of tools aimed at making artificial incubation successful.

Previously to this, several interesting attempts had been made. As long ago as 1824, Walthew constructed an incubator designed to be used by farmers’ wives with the aid of no more than ordinary household conditions. It consisted of a double-walled metal box, with several pipes opening into the walled space round the sides, bottom and top of the incubator. These pipes were connected with an ordinary kitchen boiler. Walthew, however, constructed a fire grate, with a special boiler adapted to the requirements of the incubator. Into the walled space of the incubator, steam from the kitchen boiler passed; the excess steam escaped from an aperture in the roof, and the condensed steam through one in the floor. Ventilating holes and also plugs, into which thermometers were placed, pierced the door of the incubator.

Before this, several interesting attempts had been made. As far back as 1824, Walthew built an incubator intended for use by farmers’ wives with nothing more than standard home conditions. It was made of a double-walled metal box with several pipes opening into the space around the sides, bottom, and top of the incubator. These pipes were connected to a regular kitchen boiler. However, Walthew built a fire grate with a special boiler tailored to the needs of the incubator. Steam from the kitchen boiler flowed into the incubator's space; excess steam escaped through an opening in the roof, while condensed steam exited through an opening in the floor. The incubator's door had ventilating holes and plugs for thermometers.

In 1827, J. H. Barlow successfully reared hens and other birds by means of steam at Drayton Green, Ealing. He constructed very large rooms and rearing houses, expending many thousands of pounds upon the work. He reared some 64,000 game birds annually. The celebrated physician Harvey, and the famous anatomist Hunter were much interested in his results.

In 1827, J. H. Barlow successfully raised hens and other birds using steam at Drayton Green, Ealing. He built very large rooms and breeding facilities, spending many thousands of pounds on the project. He raised around 64,000 game birds each year. The well-known physician Harvey and the famous anatomist Hunter were very interested in his results.

To John Champion, Berwick-on-Tweed, in 1870, belongs, however, the credit of instituting a system which, when extended, may become the system of the future, and will rival the ancient “Mamals” in the success of the incubation and in the largeness of the numbers of eggs incubated. He used a large room through which passed two heated flues, the eggs being placed upon a table in the centre. The flues opened out into an adjoining space. The temperature of the room was adjusted by personal supervision of the fire. This system, more elaborated and refined, is now in use in some parts of America.

To John Champion, Berwick-on-Tweed, in 1870, goes the credit for starting a system that, when expanded, could become the system of the future and compete with the ancient "Mamals" in both the success of incubation and the number of eggs incubated. He used a large room with two heated ducts running through it, placing the eggs on a table in the center. The ducts led into an adjoining area. The temperature of the room was controlled by personally monitoring the fire. This system, now more developed and refined, is currently used in some parts of America.

Bird Incubators.

Bird incubators.

Owing to the great variety in the details of construction, it is difficult to arrange a classification of incubators which shall include them all. They may, however, be classified in one of two ways. We may either consider the method by which they are heated or the method by which their temperature is regulated.

Due to the wide range of construction details, it's challenging to create a classification of incubators that covers all of them. However, they can be classified in one of two ways. We can either consider how they are heated or how their temperature is controlled.

In the former case we may divide them into “hot-air” incubators and into “hot-water” or “tank” incubators. In the latter ease we may classify them according as their thermostat or temperature-regulator is actuated by a liquid expanding with rising temperature, or by solids, usually metals.

In the first case, we can categorize them as “hot-air” incubators and “hot-water” or “tank” incubators. In the second case, we can classify them based on whether their thermostat or temperature regulator is controlled by a liquid that expands with rising temperature or by solids, usually metals.

In America incubators of the hot-air type with solid and metallic thermostats are most used, while in Europe the “tank” type, with a thermostat of expansible liquid, prevails.

In America, hot-air incubators with solid and metal thermostats are the most common, while in Europe, the "tank" type with a liquid expansion thermostat is more prevalent.

For the purpose of more adequately considering the various forms which have been in use, or are still used, we shall here divide them into the “hot-air” and “hot-water” (or “tank”) classes.

For a better understanding of the different types that have been used or are still in use, we will categorize them into the “hot-air” and “hot-water” (or “tank”) classes.

In the hot-air types the incubator chamber is heated by columns of hot air, while in the tank system this chamber is heated by a tank of warmed water.

In the hot-air models, the incubator chamber is warmed by columns of hot air, while in the tank system, this chamber is heated by a tank of heated water.

(a) Hot-Water Incubators.—In 1866 Colonel Stuart Wortley described in The Field an incubator constructed upon a novel principle, but which appears never to have been adopted by breeders. The descriptive article is illustrated with a sketch. Essentially the incubator consists of four pipes which extend across the egg chamber some little distance above the eggs. The pipes pass through holes in the side of the incubator, which are furnished with pads, so as to render their passage air-tight. Externally they are connected with a boiler. This is provided with a dome through which steam escapes, and also with a glass gauge to show the height of the water within the boiler. The water in the boiler is kept at the boiling point, and the temperature of the incubator is regulated by adjustment of the length of the hot-water pipes within the egg chamber. To raise the temperature, a greater length of the pipes is pushed into the chamber, and to reduce it, more of their length is pulled outwards. It is claimed for this instrument that since the temperature of boiling water at any particular locality remains practically constant, the disadvantages due to fluctuations in the activity of a lamp flame or the size of a gas flame are obviated. But it has the serious disadvantage that there is no automatic adjustment to compensate for fluctuations of atmospheric temperature. And experiments by C. Hearson have shown that even if the temperature of the tank or source of heat be constant, that of the incubator drawer will nevertheless vary with fluctuations of external temperature. Probably if the mechanical difficulties of providing a self-regulator were overcome, it would prove an efficient and reliable incubator. The difficulties do not seem to be insuperable, and it appears possible that a thermostatic bar could be so arranged as to automatically increase or decrease the length of hot-water pipes within the incubator, and therefore the incubator temperature.

(a) Hot-Water Incubators.—In 1866, Colonel Stuart Wortley wrote in The Field about an incubator designed on a new principle, although it seems it was never put into use by breeders. The article features an illustration. Essentially, the incubator consists of four pipes that run across the egg chamber, positioned slightly above the eggs. The pipes go through holes in the incubator's side, which are fitted with pads to ensure an airtight seal. They connect to a boiler on the outside. This boiler has a dome for steam to escape and a glass gauge to indicate the water level inside. The water in the boiler is kept at boiling point, and the incubator's temperature is managed by adjusting the length of the hot-water pipes in the egg chamber. To increase the temperature, a longer portion of the pipes is pushed into the chamber, while to lower it, more of the pipes are pulled out. This device claims an advantage since the boiling water's temperature stays fairly consistent in any given area, eliminating the issues caused by variations in a lamp's flame or gas flame size. However, it has a significant drawback in that it lacks an automatic way to adjust for changes in atmospheric temperature. Experiments by C. Hearson demonstrated that even if the heat source's temperature is stable, the temperature in the incubator drawer can still fluctuate with changes in the external temperature. If the technical challenges of creating a self-regulating mechanism were solved, it could become an efficient and reliable incubator. These challenges do not appear insurmountable, and it seems feasible that a thermostatic bar could be set up to automatically adjust the length of the hot-water pipes within the incubator, thus regulating the incubator's temperature.

Another early form of incubator is Brindley’s, which was first in 361 use about 1845, and in his hands it appeared occasionally to act successfully, but it never became generally used. The egg chamber was lined with felt, and was placed beneath a heated air chamber, the floor and roof of which were composed of glass. The air chamber was heated by a number of hot-water pipes which were connected with a copper boiler. This latter was heated by means of a lamp so constructed as to burn steadily. The temperature of the air chamber was regulated within certain limits by means of a balanced valve, which could be so adjusted that it would open at any desired temperature.

Another early type of incubator is Brindley’s, which was first used around 1845. In his hands, it seemed to work well at times, but it never became widely accepted. The egg chamber was lined with felt and placed beneath a heated air chamber, the floor and ceiling of which were made of glass. The air chamber was warmed by several hot-water pipes connected to a copper boiler. This boiler was heated by a specially designed lamp that burned steadily. The temperature of the air chamber was controlled within certain limits using a balanced valve that could be adjusted to open at any desired temperature.

In Colonel Stuart Wortley’s incubator the hot-water tubes passed directly into the egg chamber, and in Brindley’s into a chamber above it. But in other forms of incubators in which the principle of an external boiler connected with water tubes is adopted, the latter pass not into the egg chamber nor into an air chamber, but open into and from a tank of water. The floor of this tank forms the roof of the egg chamber, so that the eggs are heated from above. This device of warming the eggs from above was adopted in imitation of the processes that presumably occur with the sitting hen; for it is generally assumed that the surface of the eggs in contact with the hen is warmer than that in contact with the damp soil or with the material of the nest.

In Colonel Stuart Wortley’s incubator, the hot-water tubes went directly into the egg chamber, while in Brindley’s, they went into a chamber above it. However, in other types of incubators that use an external boiler connected to water tubes, the tubes don’t go into the egg chamber or an air chamber; instead, they connect to a tank of water. The floor of this tank serves as the roof of the egg chamber, heating the eggs from above. This method of warming the eggs from above was inspired by how a sitting hen keeps her eggs warm; it’s generally believed that the parts of the eggs that touch the hen are warmer than those in contact with the damp soil or the nest material.

One of the earliest of this form of incubator is that invented by F. Schröder, manager of the now extinct British National Poultry Company. In this incubator the form is circular, and there are four egg drawers, so that each one occupied the quadrant of a circle, and the inner corner of each drawer meets in the middle of the incubator. From the centre of the incubator a vertical chimney passes upwards and opens out from the inner corners of the four egg drawers. This chimney acts as a ventilator to the incubating chambers. These latter are open above, but their floors are made of perforated zinc, and when in use they are partially filled with chaff or similar material. Under them is a tank containing cold water and common to all four drawers; the slight vapour rising from the surface of the water diffuses through the egg drawers and thus insures a sufficient degree of humidity to the air within. Above the egg drawers is a circular tank containing warm water. The floor of this tank constitutes the roof of the egg drawers, while the roof forms the floor of a circular chamber above it, the side wall of which is composed of perforated zinc. This upper chamber is used to dry the chicks when they are just hatched and to rear them until they are strong enough for removal. It is partially filled with sand, which serves the double purpose of retaining the heat in the warm-water tank beneath and of forming a bed for the chicks. The water in the warm-water tank is heated by means of a boiler which is external to the incubator, and in communication with the tank by means of an inlet and an outlet pipe. There is no valve to regulate the temperature, and the latter is measured by means of a thermometer, the bulb of which is situated not in the incubator drawers, but in the warm-water tank. This is a wrong position for the thermometer, since it is now known that the temperature of the water tank may be different by several degrees to that of the egg drawer; for with a fall of external temperature that of the latter necessarily tends to fall more rapidly than the former. But, none the less, in skilful hands this incubator gave good results.

One of the earliest versions of this type of incubator was invented by F. Schröder, the manager of the now-defunct British National Poultry Company. This incubator has a circular shape and features four egg drawers, each occupying a quadrant of the circle, with the inner corners of each drawer meeting in the center of the incubator. From the center, a vertical chimney rises and opens at the inner corners of the four egg drawers. This chimney serves as a ventilator for the incubating chambers. The chambers are open at the top but have floors made of perforated zinc, and when in use, they are partially filled with chaff or a similar material. Below them is a tank filled with cold water, which is shared by all four drawers; the slight vapor rising from the water surface spreads through the egg drawers, ensuring there is enough humidity in the air inside. Above the egg drawers, there is a circular tank containing warm water. The floor of this tank acts as the roof of the egg drawers, while the roof forms the base of a circular chamber above it, with walls made of perforated zinc. This upper chamber is used to dry the chicks right after they hatch and to raise them until they are strong enough to be moved. It is partly filled with sand, which helps retain heat from the warm-water tank below and also serves as a bed for the chicks. The water in the warm-water tank is heated by a boiler located outside the incubator, connected to the tank via inlet and outlet pipes. There is no valve to regulate the temperature, and the temperature is monitored with a thermometer whose bulb is in the warm-water tank, not in the egg drawers. This placement for the thermometer is incorrect since it's known that the temperature of the water tank can differ by several degrees from that of the egg drawer; as the external temperature drops, the temperature of the egg drawer tends to fall more quickly than that of the tank. However, in skilled hands, this incubator produced good results.

Fig. 1.—Christy’s Improved Incubator.

T. Christy’s incubator, which we shall describe next, has passed through several forms. We shall consider the most recent one (1894). The incubator (fig. 1) is double walled, and the space between the two walls is packed with a non-conducting material. In the upper part of the incubator there is a water tank (T) divided by a horizontal partition into two chambers, communicating with each other at the left-hand side. Below the tank is the incubation drawer (E), which contains the eggs and also a temperature regulator or thermostat (R). The tank is traversed by a ventilating shaft (V), and inserted into this is a smaller sliding tube passing up to it from a hole in the bottom of the incubator drawer. The floor of the incubator drawer is perforated, and beneath it is an enclosed air space which opens into the sliding air shaft just described. Fresh air is let into the incubator drawer from a few apertures (I) at its top. The ventilating shaft (V) is closed externally by a cap (C), which can be raised from or lowered down upon its orifice by the horizontal arm (H) working upon pivot joints at (P). This arm is operated by the thermostat (R), through the agency of a vertical rod. The water in the tank is heated by an external boiler (B) through two pipes, one of which (T) serves as an inlet, and the other (L) as an outlet channel from the tank. These two pipes do not open directly into the tank, but into an outer vessel (O) communicating with it. Communication between this vessel and the tank may be made or broken by means of a sliding valve (S), which is pierced by an aperture that corresponds in position with the upper of the two in the wall of the tank when the valve is up. When this valve is in its upper position, the tank (T) communicates with the outer vessel (O) by two apertures (A and A′), the top one being the inlet and the lower one the outlet. These coincide in position with the tubes from the boiler. This latter (B) is a conical vessel containing two spaces. The heated water is contained in the outer of these spaces, while the central space is an air shaft heated by a lamp flame. This particular form of the boiler results in the water at its top part being more heated than that in its lower. As a consequence of this, a continual circulation of water through the tank ensues. The more heated water, being specifically lighter, passes into the outer vessel, where it remains among the higher strata, and therefore enters the tank through the upper aperture. In passing along the upper division of the tank it becomes slightly cooled and sinks therefore into the lower compartment, passes along it, and out through the aperture A′. Hence it passes into the lower portion of the boiler, where it becomes warmed and specifically lighter; in consequence it becomes pushed upwards in the boiler by the cooler and heavier water coming in behind and below it.

T. Christy’s incubator, which we'll describe next, has undergone several revisions. We'll focus on the latest version (1894). The incubator (fig. 1) has double walls, and the space between them is filled with an insulating material. At the top of the incubator, there's a water tank (T) split by a horizontal partition into two chambers that connect on the left side. Below the tank is the incubation drawer (E), which holds the eggs and a thermostat (R) to regulate the temperature. The tank includes a ventilating shaft (V), with a smaller sliding tube leading from a hole in the bottom of the incubator drawer. The drawer's floor is perforated, and below it is an enclosed air space that connects to the previously mentioned sliding air shaft. Fresh air enters the incubator drawer through a few openings (I) at its top. The ventilating shaft (V) has a cap (C) on the outside that can be raised or lowered over its opening by a horizontal arm (H) on pivot joints at (P). This arm is controlled by the thermostat (R) through a vertical rod. The water in the tank is heated by an external boiler (B) via two pipes, with one (T) serving as an inlet and the other (L) as an outlet from the tank. These pipes do not open directly into the tank but into an outer vessel (O) connected to it. The connection between this vessel and the tank can be opened or closed using a sliding valve (S), which has an opening aligned with the upper of the two openings in the tank's wall when the valve is raised. When the valve is up, the tank (T) connects with the outer vessel (O) through two openings (A and A′), with the top opening being the inlet and the bottom one the outlet. These align with the pipes from the boiler. The boiler (B) is a conical container with two spaces. The heated water is in the outer space, while the center space is an air shaft heated by a lamp flame. This design causes the water at the top to be hotter than that at the bottom. As a result, there’s a constant circulation of water through the tank. The hotter water, being lighter, rises into the outer vessel and remains in the upper layers, entering the tank through the top opening. As it travels through the upper part of the tank, it cools slightly and then sinks into the lower compartment, moving along it and exiting through the opening A′. This water then enters the lower section of the boiler, gets warmed, becomes lighter, and is pushed upward by the cooler, heavier water that enters behind and below it.

Should the temperature in the incubator drawer rise, the bimetallic thermostat (R) opens out its coil and pulls down the vertical rod. This simultaneously effects two things: it raises the cap (C) over the ventilating shaft and allows of a more rapid flow of fresh air through the incubator drawer, and it also lowers the slide-valve (S) so that the tank becomes cut off from communication with the outer vessel (O) and therefore with the boiler. The temperature thereupon begins to fall and the thermostat, coiling closer, raises the vertical rod, closes the ventilating shaft, and once more places the tank in communication with the boiler.

Should the temperature in the incubator drawer rise, the bimetallic thermostat (R) expands its coil and pulls down the vertical rod. This does two things at once: it raises the cap (C) over the ventilating shaft, allowing for a faster flow of fresh air into the incubator drawer, and it lowers the slide-valve (S), cutting off the tank's communication with the outer vessel (O) and the boiler. The temperature then begins to drop, and the thermostat, coiling tighter, raises the vertical rod, shuts the ventilating shaft, and reconnects the tank to the boiler.

The structure of the thermostat is given below.

The layout of the thermostat is shown below.

The Chantry Incubator (Sheffield) is also an incubator with a hot-water tank, the circulation of which is maintained by an outside boiler. Its temperature is regulated by a metal regulator.

The Chantry Incubator (Sheffield) is also an incubator with a hot-water tank, whose circulation is maintained by an external boiler. Its temperature is controlled by a metal regulator.

In Schröder’s and Christy’s incubators the hot-water pipes from the boiler simply entered the warm-water tank but did not traverse it. In the two incubators to be next described the hot-water pipes are made to pass through the water in the tank, and are so arranged as to minimize the possibility that the outside of the tank may become colder than the centre. Both of them are also fitted with an ingenious though slightly complex valve for maintaining an approximately constant temperature.

In Schröder’s and Christy’s incubators, the hot-water pipes from the boiler just went into the warm-water tank but didn’t actually go through it. In the two incubators that will be described next, the hot-water pipes pass through the water in the tank and are designed to reduce the chance that the outside of the tank gets colder than the center. Both incubators also have a clever, though somewhat complicated, valve to keep the temperature fairly constant.

Halsted’s incubator was the earliest of this type. Since his original form was constructed he has designed an improved one, and it is this latter which will be described.

Halsted’s incubator was the first of its kind. Since he built the original version, he has designed an upgraded one, and it is this latter version that will be described.

Fig 2.—Halsted’s Incubator.

The egg drawer (E, fig. 2) lies beneath the warm-water tank (T), and above this is a nursery (N). The egg drawer is ventilated by two tubular shafts (V), of which only one is represented in the illustration; the tubes are about 2½ in. in diameter, and each one is fitted at its upper end, where it opens into the nursery, with a swing-valve (V′) which turns upon a horizontal axis (A), in its turn connected, by means of cranks (C) and shafts (S), with the heat regulating apparatus (R). A space of about 2 in. between the top of the incubating drawer and the warm-water tank is necessary for the insertion of this apparatus. The water in the tank (T) is heated by means of the boiler (B); the tank and boiler are connected by the two pipes (I) and (O), of which one is the inlet and the other the outlet channel. The boiler consists of an inner (I′) and an outer (O) division in communication with each other below. The latter is cylindrical in form, while the outer wall of the former is cylindrical and its inner wall conical. The conical wall of the inner boiler is the surface which is heated by the lamp (L). The arrangement of the inlet and outlet tubes is important. In the illustration, for the sake of clearness, they are represented as one above the other. In reality they lie in the same plane, and the fork (F) of the inlet pipe similarly lies in the horizontal plane and not vertically as represented. The inlet pipe not only differs from the outlet pipe in the 362 possession of a forked end, but it is carried to the farther end (not shown in the diagram) of the water tank, while the outlet pipe opens from about the middle of the tank. The inlet pipe is connected with the inner portion of the boiler and the outlet one with the outer portion. The result of this adjustment of the parts is that the warmer water of the inner boiler, being specifically lighter than the cooler water of the outer boiler, rises up and passes through the inlet pipe (I) and is discharged into the tank through the two divergent orifices of the fork (F). Here the water strikes the side wall of the farther end of the tank and is reflected back along the back and front walls towards the nearer side. Hence it is again reflected, but in the opposite direction, and now forms a central current, which is directed towards the centrally situated orifice of the outlet tube (O). Through this it passes to the outer boiler, and sinking towards the bottom, reaches the base of the inner boiler. Here it becomes heated and lighter and consequently rises to the top, and once more passes through the inlet pipe to the water tank. The warm water thus travels round the outer walls of the tank and the cooled water is conducted away along the middle portion. A more equable distribution of temperature over the roof of the incubating chamber is thus ensured than would be the case if the heated water were discharged either into the centre or at any other single point only of the tank.

The egg drawer (E, fig. 2) is located under the warm-water tank (T), and above it is a nursery (N). The egg drawer has ventilation provided by two tubular shafts (V), but only one is shown in the illustration; these tubes are about 2½ inches in diameter, and each one has a swing-valve (V′) at the upper end, where it connects to the nursery. This valve rotates on a horizontal axis (A), which is linked to the heat regulating system (R) through cranks (C) and shafts (S). There needs to be about 2 inches of space between the top of the incubating drawer and the warm-water tank for the installation of this system. The water in the tank (T) is heated by the boiler (B); the tank and boiler are connected by two pipes (I) and (O), with one serving as the inlet and the other as the outlet. The boiler has an inner (I′) and an outer (O) section that communicate below. The outer part is cylindrical, while the outer wall of the inner part is cylindrical and the inner wall is conical. The conical wall of the inner boiler is heated by the lamp (L). The way the inlet and outlet tubes are arranged is important. In the illustration, they are shown one above the other for clarity, but in reality, they lie in the same plane, and the fork (F) of the inlet pipe is also horizontal, not vertical as depicted. The inlet pipe differs from the outlet pipe by having a forked end, and it extends to the far end (not shown in the diagram) of the water tank, while the outlet pipe opens from about the middle of the tank. The inlet pipe is connected to the inner part of the boiler and the outlet pipe to the outer part. This configuration allows the warmer water from the inner boiler, being lighter than the cooler water in the outer boiler, to rise and flow through the inlet pipe (I), discharging into the tank through the two openings of the fork (F). The water hits the far wall of the tank and is reflected back along the sides toward the front. It is then reflected again in the opposite direction, creating a central current that moves toward the centrally located opening of the outlet tube (O). The water then moves to the outer boiler, sinking to the bottom and reaching the base of the inner boiler. Here, it gets heated and becomes lighter, rising to the top to flow through the inlet pipe back into the water tank. The warm water circulates around the outer walls of the tank, while the cooler water is directed away through the middle section. This setup ensures a more even temperature distribution across the roof of the incubating chamber than if the heated water were dumped in just one central spot or any other single location in the tank.

To a very large extent, the efficiency of this apparatus depends upon the approximately perfect performance of the lamp. A good, steadily burning one should be employed, and only the best oil used; for, should the wick become fouled the flame cannot freely burn. For this reason it is better to use gas, whenever obtainable.

To a great extent, the efficiency of this device relies on the near-perfect operation of the lamp. A good, consistently burning one should be used, and only the best oil should be utilized; if the wick gets dirty, the flame can't burn freely. Because of this, it's better to use gas whenever it's available.

The maintenance of an approximately uniform temperature is obtained by allowing the heated air of the egg-drawer to escape through the two ventilating shafts (V). The swing-valves of these are opened or closed by means of the regulator (R). This latter consists of a glass bowl prolonged into a tube, about 8 in. long and three-eighths of an inch in diameter. The glass tube swings upon an axis (A) which is situated as near as possible to the bowl of the regulator. The axis is connected with a crank (C′) which is disposed so as to act as a lever upon the vertical shaft (S), which in its turn is connected with the upper crank (C); this works the axis (A′) of the swing-valves, and so can open or close the apertures of the ventilating pipes. The bowl of the regulator is filled with mercury to such an extent that at the temperature of 100° F., and when the tube is slightly inclined upwards from the horizontal it just flows slightly into the tube from the bowl. On the lever-crank (C′) a weight is slung by a sliding adjustment, and is so placed that when the temperature of the egg-drawer is 103° it just balances the tube of the regulator when it is slightly inclined upwards. Should the temperature of the drawer now rise higher the mercury flows towards the distant end of the tube and, causing it to fall down, brings about a rotation of the regulator axis and as a consequence the opening of the ventilating valves. A transverse stay prevents the limb of the regulator from quite reaching the horizontal when it falls. As the temperature cools down the mercury contracts and retraces to the nearer end of the tube and to the bowl, and consequently results in the upward inclination of the limb; the valves are thus closed again.

The maintenance of a roughly consistent temperature is achieved by letting the heated air from the egg-drawer escape through the two ventilation shafts (V). The swing valves of these shafts are opened or closed by the regulator (R). This regulator consists of a glass bowl attached to a tube that’s about 8 inches long and three-eighths of an inch in diameter. The glass tube swings on an axis (A) that is positioned as close as possible to the bowl of the regulator. The axis is linked to a crank (C′) that acts as a lever on the vertical shaft (S), which is then connected to the upper crank (C). This activates the axis (A′) of the swing valves, allowing the apertures of the ventilation pipes to open or close. The bowl of the regulator is filled with mercury to the point that at 100°F, when the tube is slightly tilted upwards from horizontal, it just begins to flow into the tube from the bowl. A weight on the lever-crank (C′) is attached via a sliding mechanism and is positioned so that when the temperature of the egg-drawer reaches 103°F, it balances the tube of the regulator when slightly inclined upwards. If the temperature in the drawer increases further, the mercury moves toward the far end of the tube, causing it to drop down, which rotates the regulator axis and opens the ventilation valves. A horizontal brace prevents the limb of the regulator from fully reaching horizontal as it falls. As the temperature decreases, the mercury contracts and returns to the near end of the tube and the bowl, causing the limb to rise again; this subsequently closes the valves.

The egg-drawer (E) is specially constructed so as to imitate as nearly as possible the natural conditions that exist under a sitting hen. The drawer is of wood and contains a zinc tray (Z) into which cold water is placed. Fitting into the zinc tray is another zinc compartment, the floor of which is made of a number of zinc strips (X) transversely arranged and placed in relation to each other like the limbs of an inverted Λ. The limbs are so disposed that those of one series do not touch the adjacent ones, and in fact a space is left between them. Thus a number of parallel troughs are formed, each of which opens below into the moist air chamber of the cold water tray beneath. In practice these troughs are covered with flannel which is allowed to dip into the water of the tray. Thus the eggs lie in a series of damp troughs and their lower surfaces are therefore damper and colder than their upper ones. This incubator, if carefully worked and the necessary practical details observed, has the reputation of being an efficient machine.

The egg-drawer (E) is designed to closely replicate the natural conditions found under a sitting hen. It’s made of wood and has a zinc tray (Z) that holds cold water. Inside this zinc tray is another zinc compartment, featuring a floor made up of several zinc strips (X) arranged crosswise like the limbs of an upside-down Λ. The limbs are spaced apart so that none of them touch each other, allowing for gaps in between. This creates a series of parallel troughs, each opening into the moist air chamber of the cold water tray below. In practice, these troughs are covered with flannel that dips into the water of the tray. As a result, the eggs rest in these damp troughs, with their lower surfaces staying damper and cooler than their upper ones. This incubator, if used correctly and with the necessary practical details taken into account, is known to be an effective machine.

Somewhat similar to the Halsted incubator, but differing from it in the nature of the boiler and in the temperature regulator, is the Graves incubator, made in Boston, U.S.A. The incubator itself (fig. 3) consists of an incubating or egg-drawer (E) heated from above by a warm-water tank (T). Below the egg-drawer is a tank containing cold water, the vapour of which passes through the perforated floor of the former and keeps the air of the egg-chamber slightly humid. Above the warm-water tank is an air chamber (AC) to serve as a non-conducting medium and to prevent therefore undue loss of heat. Above this is a nursery or drying chamber (N), closed in, with a movable lid.

Somewhat similar to the Halsted incubator but different in the type of boiler and temperature regulator is the Graves incubator, made in Boston, U.S.A. The incubator itself (fig. 3) includes an egg drawer (E) that is heated from above by a warm-water tank (T). Below the egg drawer is a tank with cold water, and the vapor from this tank passes through the perforated floor of the drawer, keeping the air in the egg chamber slightly humid. Above the warm-water tank is an air chamber (AC) that acts as an insulator to prevent unnecessary heat loss. On top of this is a nursery or drying chamber (N) that is closed in and has a movable lid.

The warm-water tank is heated by means of a simple boiler (B) from which an inlet tube (I) carries heated water to the tank; the tube traverses the length of the tank and discharges at its farther end (not shown in the diagram). From the nearer end of the tank an outlet tube (O) passes out and opens into the boiler at a slightly higher level than the inlet one. The boiler is heated by an evenly burning lamp below, of special construction. The rectangular tube through which the wick passes is bevelled at its outer end, and upon this bevelled edge a metal flap (F) is allowed to rest more or less closely, according as the flame is to be smaller or larger respectively. The wick is, of course, bevelled to correspond to the form of its tube. The metal flap is raised or depressed by means of levers connected with the heat-regulator. When it is depressed upon the wick the flame is lessened; and it becomes proportionately bigger as the flap is raised more and more.

The warm-water tank is heated by a simple boiler (B) that sends heated water through an inlet tube (I) to the tank. This tube runs the length of the tank and discharges at the far end (not shown in the diagram). From the nearer end of the tank, an outlet tube (O) leads out and connects to the boiler at a slightly higher level than the inlet. The boiler is warmed by an evenly burning lamp below, designed specifically for this purpose. The rectangular tube where the wick goes is slanted at the end, and a metal flap (F) sits on this slanted edge, adjusting its position to make the flame smaller or larger as needed. The wick is also slanted to match the shape of its tube. The metal flap is raised or lowered using levers attached to the heat regulator. When the flap is pushed down on the wick, the flame gets smaller; when it is raised, the flame gets proportionally larger.

Fig. 3.—Graves’s Incubator.

The heat-regulator consists of a glass tube (T) which runs the whole width of the incubation chamber and lies in contact with the floor of the warm-water tank; it is filled with alcohol. Externally to the incubator this tube is connected with a U-shaped one containing mercury. The free limb of the U-tube contains a piston (P) which rests upon the surface of the mercury in that limb. From the piston a piston rod (PR) passes vertically upwards and is connected with a lever (L) which operates, through the agency of a second lever (L′) the movements of the ventilating valve (V) inserted over the orifice of the ventilating shaft (A) which opens from the roof of the incubator drawer. The lever (L) is further connected with a spiral spring (S) which works the metal flap of the lamp already described. The height of the piston in the U tube can be so adjusted, by varying the quantity of mercury in the tube, that when the temperature of the incubation drawer is 103° F., the ventilating valves are closed and the wick is burning to its full extent. Should the temperature rise, the alcohol in the glass tube (T) expands and causes the mercury in the free limb of the U tube to rise. This carries with it the piston, and this movement brings about the opening of the ventilating valves, and at the same time, through the agency of the lever (L) and the spiral spring (S) the metal flap is brought down upon the wick, cutting off more or less of the flame. Should the temperature then fall to 103° or lower, the contraction of the alcohol reverses these movements, the valve closes, and the wick once more burns to its full extent.

The heat regulator consists of a glass tube (T) that spans the entire width of the incubation chamber and is in contact with the bottom of the warm water tank; it is filled with alcohol. Outside the incubator, this tube is connected to a U-shaped tube containing mercury. The open end of the U-tube has a piston (P) resting on the surface of the mercury in that end. From the piston, a piston rod (PR) extends straight up and connects to a lever (L) that controls, through a second lever (L′), the movements of the ventilating valve (V) positioned over the opening of the ventilating shaft (A) that extends from the top of the incubator drawer. The lever (L) is also linked to a spiral spring (S) that moves the metal flap of the lamp previously described. The height of the piston in the U tube can be adjusted by changing the amount of mercury in the tube so that when the temperature in the incubation drawer reaches 103° F., the ventilating valves close and the wick burns fully. If the temperature rises, the alcohol in the glass tube (T) expands, causing the mercury in the free limb of the U tube to rise. This movement raises the piston, opening the ventilating valves, and at the same time, through the lever (L) and the spiral spring (S), the metal flap lowers over the wick, reducing the flame. If the temperature then drops back to 103° or lower, the contraction of the alcohol reverses these actions, closing the valve and allowing the wick to burn fully again.

In practice, the boiler and the temperature regulator are duplicated, there being a set on both sides of the incubator. Any slight irregularity on the one side may be thus compensated for by the other side.

In practice, the boiler and the temperature regulator are duplicated, with a set on both sides of the incubator. Any minor irregularity on one side can be balanced out by the other side.

Graves’s incubator has the reputation of being a good machine.

Graves’s incubator is known for being a reliable machine.

Among the most recent type of incubators made in England is that of Charles Hearson. This differs from any of those described in the simplicity and ingenuity of the heat regulator, and in that the tubes which traverse the water tank are hot-air flues, carrying the air heated by the flame and not warm water. Consequently a further simplification is introduced inasmuch as no boiler is required.

Among the latest types of incubators made in England is that of Charles Hearson. This one stands out from the others because of its simple yet clever heat regulator, and because the tubes that go through the water tank are hot-air ducts, carrying air heated by the flame instead of warm water. As a result, it simplifies things even more since no boiler is needed.

Fig. 4—Hearson’s Incubator.

The essential features of this incubator are shown in fig. 4. The internal parts of the incubator are insulated by a double wall, the interspace being packed by a non-conducting material, which is not shown in the figure. The incubation or egg-drawer (E) is heated by the warm-water tank (T). Beneath the egg-drawer is a zinc tray (Z), so constructed that in the central part the floor is raised up into a short cylinder. Around the raised cylinder is a wide trough containing water and into this dips a canvas cloth which is stretched out over a perforated zinc support (F). By this means an extended moistened surface is produced which allows of a rapid evaporation. 363 The floor of the incubator, which is raised by short feet from the table on which it stands, is perforated in the central portion by a number of holes, and which are so situated that they lie beneath the raised cylinder of the cold-water tray (Z). The incubation-drawer is thus supplied continuously by a slow current of moistened air because the air in the upper part of the drawer, i.e. in contact with the floor of the warm-water tank, is the warmest and lightest. It therefore tends to diffuse or pass through the narrow slits between the drawer and the walls of the incubator, and also through the aperture in the front wall of the egg-drawer, through which a thermometer is laced. To replace the air thus lost, fresh air passes in through the holes in the bottom of the incubator, and on its way must pass through the pores of the damp canvas which dips into the water in the zinc tray (Z).

The main features of this incubator are shown in fig. 4. The internal parts are insulated by a double wall, with the space in between filled with a non-conducting material that’s not depicted in the figure. The incubation or egg drawer (E) is heated by the warm-water tank (T). Below the egg drawer is a zinc tray (Z) designed so that the center floor is raised into a short cylinder. Surrounding the raised cylinder is a wide trough that holds water, into which a canvas cloth dips, stretched over a perforated zinc support (F). This setup creates a large moist surface that allows for quick evaporation. 363 The floor of the incubator is elevated by short feet from the table it rests on and has several holes in the central area. These holes are positioned directly beneath the raised cylinder of the cold-water tray (Z). As a result, the incubation drawer is continuously supplied with a slow current of moist air because the air at the top of the drawer, meaning in contact with the bottom of the warm-water tank, is the warmest and lightest. It therefore tends to spread through the narrow slits between the drawer and the incubator walls, as well as through the opening in the front wall of the egg drawer, where a thermometer is placed. To replace the air that escapes, fresh air enters through the holes at the bottom of the incubator, and as it moves in, it must go through the pores of the damp canvas that dips into the water in the zinc tray (Z).

The warm-water tank is heated by an inlet (I) and outlet (O) flue which are, however, continuous. The inlet flue opens out from a vertical chimney (C), the air in which is heated either by a gas flame or that of an oil lamp. The outlet or return flue passes back through the width of the tank and opens independently to the exterior. The vertical chimney (C) is capped by a lid (L) capable of being raised or lowered upon its orifice by the lever (L′). When the cap is resting upon the chimney all the heated air from within the latter passes through the flues and heats the water in the tank. If the cap is widely raised, practically all the heated air passes directly upwards through the chimney and none goes through the flues. If the cap be but slightly raised, part of the heated air goes through the flues and part directly escapes through the aperture of the chimney. The movement of the lever (L′) which raises the cap (L) is determined by the thermostatic capsule (S), situated within the egg-drawer.

The warm-water tank is heated by an inlet (I) and outlet (O) flue that are continuous. The inlet flue connects to a vertical chimney (C), which is heated by either a gas flame or an oil lamp. The outlet, or return flue, goes back through the tank and opens independently to the outside. The vertical chimney (C) has a cap (L) that can be raised or lowered using a lever (L′). When the cap is resting on the chimney, all the heated air from inside flows through the flues and warms the water in the tank. If the cap is raised widely, most of the heated air goes straight up through the chimney, bypassing the flues. If the cap is only slightly raised, some of the heated air moves through the flues while some escapes directly through the open chimney. The movement of the lever (L′) that raises the cap (L) is controlled by a thermostatic capsule (S) located in the egg-drawer.

The principle upon which this capsule is designed is that the boiling point of a liquid depends not only upon temperature but also upon pressure. A given liquid at ordinary atmospheric pressure will boil at a certain degree of temperature, which varies for different substances. But if the pressure be increased the boiling point of the liquid is raised to a higher degree of temperature. A liquid when it boils passes into a gaseous condition and in this state will occupy a very much larger volume—some two or three hundred times—than in the liquid condition. If, therefore, a hermetically sealed capsule with flexible sides be filled with some liquid which boils at a given temperature, the sides of the capsule will distend when the temperature of the air round the capsule has been raised to the boiling point of the liquid within it. The distension of this capsule can be used to raise the lever (L′). The thermostatic capsule is placed on a fixed cradle (F) and is filled with a mixture of ether and alcohol, the proportions being such that the boiling point of the mixed liquid is 100° F. Between the capsule and the lever (L′) is a vertical rod (V), articulating with the lever as close as possible to its fulcrum (M). The articulation with the lever is by means of a screw, so that the necessary nice adjustment between the height of the rod (V), the thickness of the capsule and the position of rest of the damper (L) upon the chimney, can be accurately made. The temperature at which it is desired that the liquid in the capsule shall boil can be determined by sliding the weight (W) nearer or farther to the fulcrum of the lever (L′). The farther it is moved outwards, the greater is the pressure upon the thermostatic capsule and consequently the higher will be the boiling point of its contained liquid. By means of the milled-head screw (A), the height of the lever at its outer end can be so adjusted that when the liquid of the capsule is not boiling the damper (L) closes the chimney, but that when it does boil the damper will be raised sufficiently high from it. If the weight is pushed as far as it will go towards the fulcrum end of the lever, the temperature of the egg-drawer will never rise more than 100° F. because at this temperature and under the pressure to which it is then subjected, the liquid in the capsule boils, and consequently brings about the raising of the damper. It matters not, therefore, how high the flame of the gas or lamp be turned, the temperature of the egg-drawer will not increase, because the extra heat of the enlarged flame is passing directly outwards through the chimney, and is not going through the flues in the tank. In order to raise the temperature within the incubation chamber to 102° or 103°, or any other desired degree, the weight (W) must be moved outwards along the lever (L′), about 1 in. for every degree of temperature increase desired. This thermostatic capsule works admirably, and the incubator will work for months at a time and requires no adjustment, however much, within the limits of our climate, the external temperature may vary. The capsule, like all other thermostats in which the expansible substance is a liquid, is, however, dependent upon external pressure for the point at which its contained liquid boils and therefore, for the degree of temperature prevailing within the incubator drawer. It is therefore responsive to variations in atmospheric pressure, and as the barometer may fall 1 or 2 in., this may possibly make a difference of two or three degrees in the fluctuation of temperature within the egg-drawer. It is not, of course, often that such large oscillations of the barometer occur, and as a matter of practical experience, under ordinary conditions, this incubator will work for months together without attention with only half a degree variation round the point at which it was set.

The design principle behind this capsule is that the boiling point of a liquid depends not only on temperature but also on pressure. A liquid at normal atmospheric pressure boils at a specific temperature, which differs for various substances. However, if the pressure increases, the boiling point of the liquid rises to a higher temperature. When a liquid boils, it transitions into a gas and occupies a volume that is significantly larger—about two to three hundred times—than it does in its liquid form. So, if a hermetically sealed capsule with flexible sides is filled with a liquid that boils at a certain temperature, the sides of the capsule will expand when the temperature of the surrounding air reaches the boiling point of the liquid inside. This expansion can be used to lift the lever (L′). The thermostatic capsule sits on a fixed cradle (F) and contains a mixture of ether and alcohol, proportioned so that the boiling point of the mixed liquid is 100°F. There’s a vertical rod (V) between the capsule and the lever (L′) that connects to the lever as closely as possible to its fulcrum (M). The connection to the lever is made using a screw, allowing for precise adjustments between the height of the rod (V), the thickness of the capsule, and the resting position of the damper (L) on the chimney. The temperature at which the liquid in the capsule should boil can be adjusted by sliding the weight (W) closer or farther from the fulcrum of the lever (L′). Moving it further out increases the pressure on the thermostatic capsule, raising the boiling point of its liquid. Using the milled-head screw (A), the height of the lever at its outer end can be adjusted so that when the liquid in the capsule isn’t boiling, the damper (L) closes the chimney, but when it does boil, the damper rises high enough. If the weight is pushed as far towards the fulcrum of the lever as it can go, the temperature in the egg-drawer won’t exceed 100°F because, at that temperature and with the applied pressure, the liquid in the capsule boils, thus lifting the damper. It doesn’t matter how high the flame of the gas or lamp is turned, the temperature in the egg-drawer won’t increase because the extra heat from the larger flame is escaping directly through the chimney, rather than through the flues in the tank. To raise the temperature in the incubation chamber to 102°F or 103°F, or any other desired temperature, the weight (W) must be moved outward along the lever (L′) about an inch for each degree of temperature increase wanted. This thermostatic capsule functions incredibly well, and the incubator can operate for months without needing adjustments, regardless of how much the external temperature varies within the limits of our climate. However, like all thermostats that use a liquid as the expandible substance, the capsule is affected by external pressure, which determines the boiling point of the liquid inside and thus the temperature inside the incubator drawer. Consequently, it is responsive to changes in atmospheric pressure, and if the barometer drops by 1 or 2 inches, this can result in a temperature fluctuation of two or three degrees in the egg-drawer. Of course, such large swings in barometric pressure are not common, and from practical experience, this incubator can run for months with only half a degree variation around the set point under ordinary conditions.

Fig. 5.—The Bedford (Greenwood’s) Incubator.

Greenwood’s incubator (fig. 5), named the Bedford, resembles Pearson’s in that hot-air flues (F and F′) and not hot-water pipes, traverse the water tank (T). And the method of regulation of the temperature is much the same, i.e. a thermostat (V) operating upon a lever which raises a cap (C) from off the aperture of the main flue (F) and thus allows all the heat of the flame to pass directly outwards, without passing through the series of flues (F) which horizontally traverse the water-tank. Fresh air enters through a wide circular aperture (A) which surrounds the main flue, and it thus becomes partially warmed before entering the egg-chamber. The eggs are placed upon a perforated floor (E) lying over water baths (B). The water tank (T) lies in the centre of the incubation chamber and is traversed through its central axis by the main hot-air flue (F). From this, four horizontal flues pass outwards through the water and open into small vertical flues, which in their turn communicate with the exterior.

Greenwood’s incubator (fig. 5), called the Bedford, is similar to Pearson’s in that hot-air ducts (F and F′) and not hot-water pipes run through the water tank (T). The way it regulates temperature is pretty much the same, i.e. a thermostat (V) controls a lever that lifts a cap (C) off the opening of the main duct (F), allowing all the heat from the flame to flow directly outwards, without going through the series of ducts (F) that run horizontally through the water tank. Fresh air comes in through a large circular opening (A) around the main duct, getting partially warmed before it enters the egg chamber. The eggs sit on a perforated floor (E) above water baths (B). The water tank (T) is located in the center of the incubation chamber and is crossed at its center by the main hot-air duct (F). From this, four horizontal ducts extend outwards through the water and connect to small vertical ducts, which in turn lead to the outside.

The thermostat (V) consists of a glass tube of peculiar form. This is closed at the end of its short limb and open at its other extremity on the long limb. The bent portion of the tube is filled with mercury and between the mercury column and the closed end is a small quantity of ether. The thermostat is lodged in a box (G), which forms part of the lever (L). At one end this lever is pivoted to a fixed arm, and at the other to the vertical rod which operates the ventilating cap (C). If the temperature should rise, the ether in the thermostat expands and pushes the mercury column up along the inclined long limb. This disturbs the equilibrium of the lever (L), and it descends downwards, pulling with it the vertical rod, and thus raising the cap over the main flue. If the temperature falls the reverse series of changes occur. The temperature at which the cap will be raised can be adjusted within limits by the position of the weight (W) and by the adjustment of the degree of inclination of the thermostat.

The thermostat (V) is made up of a uniquely shaped glass tube. One end of the tube is sealed while the other end is open. The bent section of the tube contains mercury, and between the mercury and the sealed end, there's a small amount of ether. The thermostat is housed in a box (G), which is part of the lever (L). One end of this lever is fixed to a stationary arm, and the other end connects to a vertical rod that operates the ventilating cap (C). If the temperature goes up, the ether in the thermostat expands, pushing the mercury column up the long inclined limb. This disrupts the balance of the lever (L), causing it to lower and pull down on the vertical rod, which raises the cap over the main flue. If the temperature drops, the opposite series of changes happens. The temperature at which the cap will lift can be adjusted to a certain range by moving the weight (W) and adjusting the angle of the thermostat.

The Proctor incubator, made at Otley, is apparently, in its main features, similar to the Greenwood.

The Proctor incubator, made in Otley, is apparently similar to the Greenwood in its main features.

Fig. 6.—The Winchcombe Incubator.

Somewhat similar, in certain features, to the Greenwood is the Winchcombe. Its improved form, in which metal replaces the wood casing, is named the Gladstone. In it there is a combination of the hot-air and the water-tank systems of warming the incubation chamber. The wall of the incubator is double, and the space between the outer and inner wall is packed with a non-conducting material. The incubation chamber is heated above by a water-tank (fig. 6 T) which is traversed by a main vertical flue (F) and four subsidiary horizontal ones which discharge externally. The main flue, however, in passing up to enter the water tank traverses the egg-chamber, and therefore serves to warm it, as in the hot-air type of incubator, by the heat of the flue itself. Around the lower half of the flue is a water vessel consisting of two concentric containers (C), holding water. In the space between these concentric containers, fresh air passes in through the aperture (A), and before it reaches the egg-chamber it passes through coarse canvas which dips into the water in the containers, and is therefore kept permanently moist. The containers are filled from a water tank (S) outside the incubator. Air passes out from the egg-chamber through the aperture (O). The temperature is regulated by a bimetallic thermostat (see below), which operates two levers, that by their arrangement can raise or depress the cap (D) over the main flue (F). The temperature at which this occurs will be determined, within limits, by the position of the adjustable weight (W).

Somewhat similar in certain aspects to the Greenwood is the Winchcombe. Its upgraded version, where metal replaces the wooden casing, is called the Gladstone. This model combines hot-air and water-tank systems for heating the incubation chamber. The walls of the incubator are double, with the space between the outer and inner walls filled with a non-conductive material. The incubation chamber is heated above by a water tank (fig. 6 T), which has a main vertical flue (F) and four smaller horizontal flues that vent outside. However, the main flue, as it moves up to enter the water tank, passes through the egg chamber, helping to warm it like a hot-air incubator through the heat of the flue itself. Surrounding the bottom half of the flue is a water vessel made up of two concentric containers (C) that hold water. Fresh air flows in through the opening (A) between these containers, and before it reaches the egg chamber, it passes through coarse canvas that dips into the water, keeping it moist. The containers are filled from a water tank (S) located outside the incubator. Air exits the egg chamber through the opening (O). The temperature is controlled by a bimetallic thermostat (see below), which operates two levers that can raise or lower the cap (D) over the main flue (F). The temperature at which this happens is adjustable, depending on the position of the adjustable weight (W).

Tomlinson’s incubator, designed in 1880, is novel in principle. 364 It possesses a very large water tank, holding 15 gallons for every hundred eggs. Through this tank there pass two hot-air horizontal flues, lying in the same plane. The novelty of the construction lies in the great volume of water used and in the disposition of the flues towards the top of the tank. It is said that very little circulation of water takes place beneath the flues, because warmed water rises instead of falling. The great body of water below the flues will therefore only take up heat relatively slowly, and will, on account of its bulk and its physical properties, but slowly lose it. Should the flame fall in power, or even go out for ten or twelve hours, it is claimed that no serious loss of efficiency of the apparatus will result.

Tomlinson’s incubator, designed in 1880, is innovative in concept. 364 It has a very large water tank that holds 15 gallons for every hundred eggs. Two hot-air horizontal ducts, situated in the same plane, run through this tank. The uniqueness of the design lies in the large volume of water used and the positioning of the ducts near the top of the tank. It’s said that very little water circulation occurs beneath the ducts, as warm water rises instead of sinking. The large amount of water below the ducts will therefore absorb heat relatively slowly and, due to its mass and physical properties, will also lose heat slowly. If the flame decreases in intensity or even goes out for ten to twelve hours, it is claimed that there will be no significant loss of efficiency of the device.

Regulation of the temperature is by means of an air tube, the air in which expanding bulges out an india-rubber diaphragm and this moves a lever. The lever operates a valve which allows more or less of the heated air to escape from the egg-drawer.

Regulating the temperature is done through an air tube, where the expanding air pushes out a rubber diaphragm, causing it to move a lever. The lever controls a valve that lets more or less heated air escape from the egg-drawer.

Fig. 7.—Hillier’s Incubator.

(b) Hot-air Incubators.—W. H. Hillier’s Incubator (fig. 7) is circular in form and is constructed of a double-walled metal case. The space between the two walls is packed with a non-conducting material. The incubation or egg-chamber (C) is warmed by a circular heating box (H), and the air in this is heated by a lamp. The roof of this box forms part of the floor of the incubation chamber and from it a main flue (F) and four smaller ones (F′) pass upwards through the roof of the incubator and discharge to the exterior. Fresh air passes in to the incubator through two tubular channels (A and A′) on either side of the heating box and escapes through a hole in the roof, which serves at the same time as a passage for one of the rods (D) in connexion with the temperature regulating apparatus.

(b) Hot-air Incubators.—W. H. Hillier’s Incubator (fig. 7) has a circular design and is made with a double-walled metal casing. The space between the walls is filled with a non-conductive material. The incubation chamber (C) is heated by a circular heating box (H), and the air inside it is warmed by a lamp. The top of this box also acts as part of the floor of the incubation chamber, and from it, a main flue (F) and four smaller flues (F′) extend upward through the roof of the incubator and vent to the outside. Fresh air enters the incubator through two tubular channels (A and A′) on each side of the heating box and exits through a hole in the roof, which also serves as a passage for one of the rods (D) connected to the temperature regulation system.

This apparatus (T) consists of a glass tube of ½ in. bore, and which is bent into the form of a circle of 5 in. diameter. The tube is fastened to a wooden disk, which rotates upon a pivot and in so doing operates a vertical rod (D), which in its turn works the cap (V) which covers the orifice of the main flue. The tube is partly filled with mercury and is closed at one end. At this end there is contained some spirit. As the temperature rises, this expands and pushes the mercury column farther along the tube. The equilibrium of the position of rest is thus disturbed, and the wooden disk consequently rotates, carrying with it the vertical arm, the downward movement of which raises the cap (V) of the flue. The temperature at which it is desired that this valve shall uncover the flue, can be adjusted within the necessary limits by sliding the weight (W) along the horizontal arm and by the amount of mercury present in the bent tube. The air of the incubation chamber is rendered sufficiently moist by the evaporation of water in the vessel (G).

This device (T) consists of a glass tube with a ½-inch diameter, bent into a circle with a 5-inch diameter. The tube is attached to a wooden disk that rotates on a pivot, which in turn operates a vertical rod (D) that lifts the cap (V) covering the opening of the main flue. The tube is partially filled with mercury and closed at one end, which contains some spirit. As the temperature rises, the spirit expands and pushes the mercury column further along the tube. This disrupts the equilibrium of the resting position, causing the wooden disk to rotate and moving the vertical arm downward, which raises the cap (V) of the flue. The temperature at which the valve is set to open the flue can be adjusted within the necessary range by sliding the weight (W) along the horizontal arm and by the amount of mercury in the bent tube. The air in the incubation chamber is kept sufficiently moist by the evaporation of water in the vessel (G).

In the Cornell incubator (New York) more personal attention is required than in other forms, since the ventilation of the egg-chamber is not wholly automatic but is regulated according to the results of observation. The great difficulty in ventilation is the proper combination of fresh air and moisture. The Cornell Incubator Company has endeavoured to obviate this difficulty by carrying out a series of observations on the rate at which evaporation occurs in incubating eggs under natural conditions. The rate of evaporation is measured by the size of the air-space within the egg-shell at successive days. This they have ascertained, and with their incubators they furnish a book of instructions in which diagrams showing the size of the air space on the 1st, 5th, 10th, 14th and 18th days are given. Examination of the eggs should therefore be made every two or three days, and the result compared with the diagrams. The incubator is provided with an adjustable ventilator and this should be so arranged that evaporation is neither too great nor too little. The ventilator should never be wholly closed, and if when closed to its minimum evaporation is still too great, then water should be placed in the moisture pans. In all cases lukewarm water should be placed in these on the 18th day and the ventilating slide opened wide.

In the Cornell incubator (New York), more personal attention is needed than in other types because the ventilation in the egg chamber isn't fully automatic; it's adjusted based on observations. The main challenge in ventilation is finding the right balance between fresh air and moisture. The Cornell Incubator Company has worked to solve this problem by conducting observations on how quickly evaporation happens in incubating eggs under natural conditions. They measure the rate of evaporation by checking the size of the air space inside the eggshell on different days. They have figured this out, and with their incubators, they provide a guidebook that includes diagrams showing the size of the air space on the 1st, 5th, 10th, 14th, and 18th days. Eggs should be examined every two or three days, and the results should be compared with the diagrams. The incubator is equipped with an adjustable ventilator, which should be set up so that evaporation isn't too much or too little. The ventilator should never be completely closed, and if it's at its minimum and evaporation is still too high, then water should be added to the moisture pans. In all cases, lukewarm water should be put in these pans on the 18th day, and the ventilating slide should be opened wide.

It will thus be seen that in this machine there is an attempt to do away with the addition of water to the incubator drawer during the greater part of the period of incubation, and to rely upon the aqueous vapour naturally present in the atmosphere. This attempt is based upon the fact that water vapour is lighter than air, and will therefore rise to the top in any enclosed volume of air. If the direction of the ventilating current is downwards in the incubation chamber, and if it is slow enough, it is thought that the water vapour will be sifted out and tend to accumulate to a sufficient extent in the chamber. In the Cornell incubator consequently the ventilating current passes first upward through an external heater in order to warm it, whence it is then deflected downwards into the egg-chamber and diffuses through its perforated bottom. Then it passes along a space beneath the chamber into a space in the left-hand wall of the incubator and out to the exterior through an adjustable and graduated ventilating slide.

It can be seen that this machine tries to eliminate the need to add water to the incubator drawer for most of the incubation period, relying instead on the moisture naturally present in the air. This approach is based on the fact that water vapor is lighter than air and will rise to the top in any closed space. If the airflow in the incubation chamber moves downwards and is slow enough, it's believed that the water vapor will get filtered out and accumulate to a sufficient level in the chamber. In the Cornell incubator, the airflow first moves upward through an external heater to warm it before being directed downwards into the egg chamber, where it spreads through the perforated bottom. Then, it flows along a space beneath the chamber into a section in the left-hand wall of the incubator and exits to the outside through an adjustable ventilating slide.

These incubators are hot-air machines, and the hot-air chamber is situated above the egg-drawer and is traversed by several flues opening out from a main one. The temperature regulating apparatus appears to be similar to that of Hearson’s machine and operates by a thermostat, which through the agency of levers opens or closes a valve over the main flue.

These incubators are hot-air machines, and the hot-air chamber is located above the egg drawer and has several ducts connected to a main one. The temperature control system seems to be similar to Hearson’s machine and works with a thermostat, which uses levers to open or close a valve over the main duct.

The Westmeria incubators (Leighton Buzzard) are of two patterns. One type is built on the hot-air principle and the other on the hot-water system. In both forms the heated air from the heating surfaces is deflected down on the eggs and escapes through the perforated bottom of the egg-drawer. The inlet air is first warmed by contact with the main flue. The thermostat is similar to that in the Hillier machine (fig. 7) and consists of a coil mounted on an axis, round which it can rotate. The coil is filled with mercury and is closed at one end. Between this end and the mercury column is a short column of air. By expansion of the air under a rising temperature, the mercury column is displaced and brings about a rotation of the disk to which the coiled tube containing it is attached. This rotation raises the cap over the main flue.

The Westmeria incubators (Leighton Buzzard) come in two designs. One type uses a hot-air principle, while the other operates on a hot-water system. In both types, the heated air from the heating surfaces is directed down onto the eggs and escapes through the perforated bottom of the egg drawer. The incoming air is initially warmed by coming into contact with the main flue. The thermostat is similar to the one in the Hillier machine (fig. 7) and consists of a coil mounted on an axis, allowing it to rotate. The coil is filled with mercury and sealed at one end. Between this end and the mercury column is a short column of air. As the temperature rises and the air expands, the mercury column is displaced, causing the disk, to which the coiled tube is attached, to rotate. This rotation raises the cap over the main flue.

All the incubators so far described have been constructed with the idea of obtaining as nearly as possible a uniform temperature. But in E. S. Renwick’s incubator (America) no attempt is made to obtain uniformity in temperature. On the other hand, it is designed to give a periodical oscillation from one extreme to the other of a limited range, about 3°, of temperature. This is accomplished by means of a thermostatic bar made of plates of brass and vulcanite fastened together. This is connected with a clockwork and detent arrangement, which simultaneously opens a valve and actuates the lamp flame. The temperature falls to the lower limit of its range before the thermostatic bar is sufficiently bent to set the clockwork arrangement operating in the reverse direction, by which the valve is closed and the lamp flame increased. The temperature then rises to the higher limit, when the bending of the thermostatic bar again releases the detent and the clockwork opens the valve and reduces the flame.

All the incubators described so far have been built to achieve a nearly uniform temperature. However, E. S. Renwick’s incubator (America) doesn’t aim for temperature uniformity. Instead, it’s designed to create periodic fluctuations between two extremes within a limited range of about 3°. This is achieved using a thermostatic bar made of brass and vulcanite plates that are fastened together. This bar is connected to a clockwork and detent system that simultaneously opens a valve and adjusts the lamp flame. The temperature drops to the lower limit of its range before the thermostatic bar bends enough to trigger the clockwork to operate in the opposite direction, closing the valve and increasing the lamp flame. The temperature then rises to the higher limit, at which point the bending of the thermostatic bar releases the detent, causing the clockwork to open the valve and decrease the flame.

The incubator is said to succeed well. It also possesses a mechanical arrangement by which all the eggs can be periodically turned on rollers at once.

The incubator is reported to work effectively. It also has a mechanical setup that allows all the eggs to be turned on rollers at the same time.

Size.—The incubators which have been described are of relatively small size, and the numbers of eggs which they can incubate are strictly limited. For commercial purposes, however, operations of a much larger magnitude are desirable and necessary. And there can be no doubt that for these purposes the incubators of the future will be of great size and will contain from 15,000 to 30,000 eggs or more at a time. Already, at Aratoma Farm, Stamford, New York State, there is established a large incubation room, containing several thousands of eggs, and in which the heat regulation is controlled in part by the personal efforts of attendants. It constitutes almost a complete return, with added accessories, to the methods of the Egyptians, and to those of John Champion.

Size.—The incubators mentioned are relatively small, and the number of eggs they can incubate is quite limited. However, for commercial purposes, much larger operations are needed and preferred. There’s no doubt that future incubators will be large and will hold between 15,000 to 30,000 eggs or even more at one time. Already, at Aratoma Farm in Stamford, New York, there’s a large incubation room that holds several thousand eggs, and the heat regulation is partly managed by the staff's personal efforts. This approach is almost a complete throwback, with added features, to the methods used by the Egyptians and those of John Champion.

Bacteriological Incubators.

Bacterial Incubators.

These differ from bird Incubators in that the heating surface of the incubation chamber generally surrounds all sides of it and there is, as a rule, no special arrangement for bringing about a more or less humid condition of the contained air. In some forms there is an arrangement to ensure a continuous supply of fresh and moist air, but in the majority the incubation chamber obtains its supply of fresh air vicariously. In some forms the chamber of the incubator is heated by a warm water tank of a simple kind, which extends round all its sides. But in other forms a series of tubes or flues passes through the water in this tank and thus simulates in principle the tube boiler. This latter form utilizes the heat of the flame to a greater degree than the former kind. In yet other forms the incubation chamber is heated by warm air chambers which surround it or flues which traverse it. Most bacteriological incubators are square or rectangular in form, but some bacteriologists prefer cylindrical forms, presumably on account of the ratio of volume to surface in connexion with the water tank.

These differ from bird incubators in that the heating surface of the incubation chamber usually surrounds it on all sides, and typically, there isn't a special setup to create a more or less humid environment for the air inside. In some designs, there’s a system to ensure a continuous supply of fresh, moist air, but in most cases, the incubation chamber gets its fresh air indirectly. In some models, the incubator chamber is heated by a simple warm water tank that wraps around all its sides. In other designs, a series of tubes or flues run through the water in this tank, effectively working like a tube boiler. This latter type makes better use of the heat from the flame compared to the former. Additionally, in some versions, the incubation chamber is heated by warm air chambers surrounding it or flues running through it. Most bacteriological incubators are square or rectangular, but some bacteriologists prefer cylindrical shapes, likely due to the volume-to-surface ratio related to the water tank.

One of the best known and most generally used of the cylindrical and water-tank kind is that of Dr d’Arsonval. It consists of two copper cylinders (fig. 8 C and C′), each terminating in a cone below. Between the cylinders is a wide interspace, in order that a large volume of water may be contained. This interspace therefore constitutes the water-tank of the incubator. The upper orifice of the inner cylinder is closed by a movable double lid, which contains an interspace filled with water. The outer cylinder has an oblique form at its upper end and is permanently closed. The result attained by this slope of the lid of the outer cylinder is that the water tank, which is fed from the highest point, becomes completely filled. The aperture at the highest point of the outer cylinder is plugged with a caoutchouc plug and through a perforation in this a glass tube (T) is placed. In 365 the side of the outer cylinder below this, there is a wide and rimmed aperture, to which a gas regulator of special construction is fixed.

One of the most well-known and commonly used types of cylindrical water tanks is Dr. d’Arsonval's design. It features two copper cylinders (fig. 8 C and C′), each ending in a cone at the bottom. There's a large space between the cylinders, allowing for a significant volume of water to be held. This space acts as the water tank for the incubator. The top opening of the inner cylinder is covered by a movable double lid with an interior space filled with water. The outer cylinder has a slanted shape at its upper end and is permanently sealed. This slant at the top of the outer cylinder ensures that the water tank, which is filled from the highest point, fills up completely. The opening at the highest point of the outer cylinder is sealed with a rubber plug, through which a glass tube (T) is inserted. In 365, there is a wide, rimmed opening on the side of the outer cylinder below this, which is attached to a specially designed gas regulator.

Fig. 8.—D’Arsonval Incubator.

This regulator was designed by Théophile Schloesing, and consists of a brass box, supplied with a rim (L) which fits on to the corresponding rim (L′) on the aperture of the incubator. Stretching across the orifice thus connecting the brass box of the regulator with the water-tank of the incubator is a thin india-rubber diaphragm (D). At its outer end a perforated cap (R) screws on to the brass box. Through the perforation the inlet gas tube passes (I); the outlet gas tube (O) leaves the brass box below and passes direct to the gas burners. The inlet gas tube is fitted at its inner end with a sliding flanged collar (F), which is kept pressed against the rubber diaphragm by a spiral spring. Just behind the collar the inlet tube is perforated by a small hole, so that the gas supply is never wholly cut off, even though the rubber diaphragm completely occludes the inner aperture of the pipe.

This regulator was designed by Théophile Schloesing and consists of a brass box with a rim (L) that fits onto the corresponding rim (L′) on the incubator's opening. A thin rubber diaphragm (D) stretches across the opening, connecting the brass box of the regulator to the incubator's water tank. At its outer end, a perforated cap (R) screws onto the brass box. Through the perforation, the inlet gas tube (I) passes, while the outlet gas tube (O) exits the brass box below and goes directly to the gas burners. The inlet gas tube has a sliding flanged collar (F) at its inner end, which is pressed against the rubber diaphragm by a spiral spring. Just behind the collar, there’s a small hole in the inlet tube, ensuring that the gas supply is never completely cut off, even if the rubber diaphragm fully blocks the inner opening of the pipe.

The mode of working of the regulator is as follows: when the water tank of the incubator is filled with distilled or rain water at the temperature required, it presses upon the india-rubber diaphragm with a certain degree of pressure. By screwing the inlet pipe in or out, as required, it can be so adjusted that the diaphragm does not occlude its inner aperture, and consequently the full volume of gas can pass through to the burners below. The temperature of the water in the water-tank therefore begins to rise, and in consequence the volume of the water to increase. This results in the water rising up into the tube (T), and therefore the dynamical pressure which is exercised by the water upon every part of the two cylinders of the incubator and consequently also upon the india-rubber diaphragm of the regulator is increased. As this pressure increases, the diaphragm becomes bulged outwardly and reduces the volume of gas passing through the aperture of the inlet pipe. At a certain point, of course, the diaphragm completely occludes the aperture, and the gas supply is wholly cut off, except for the very small hole, forming a by-pass, in the pipe, behind the collar. This hole is just sufficiently big to allow the minimum amount of gas requisite to keep the flames burning to pass through. The temperature will, therefore, begin to fall, the volume of water to decrease with its resulting descent from the glass tube (T) and consequent decrease in the dynamical pressure of the water upon the diaphragm. The latter therefore retracts away from the aperture of the inlet tube, and more gas consequently passes through; the flames again increase in size and the temperature rises once more. And as soon as the volume of water, owing to the rising temperature, has increased to the extent correlated with the temperature at which the apparatus has been set to work, it will have risen once more in the tube (T), and the gas will be again cut off. The three burners are placed upon a support that can be moved vertically up or down along one of the legs of the incubator. The flames are protected from draughts by mica chimneys. Ventilation is provided by an adjustable valve (V′) in the cylindrical termination of the incubator at its lower end, and by tubular orifices, also fitted with valves (V) in the lid above.

The way the regulator works is as follows: when the water tank of the incubator is filled with distilled or rainwater at the required temperature, it exerts pressure on the rubber diaphragm. By adjusting the inlet pipe in or out as needed, it can be set so the diaphragm doesn’t block the inner opening, allowing the full volume of gas to flow through to the burners below. The water temperature in the tank starts to rise, which causes the volume of water to increase. This results in the water rising into the tube (T), increasing the pressure exerted by the water on all parts of the two cylinders of the incubator, and consequently on the rubber diaphragm of the regulator. As this pressure rises, the diaphragm bulges outward and reduces the volume of gas passing through the inlet pipe's opening. Eventually, the diaphragm completely blocks the opening, cutting off the gas supply entirely, except for a tiny bypass hole behind the collar in the pipe. This hole is just large enough to let the minimum amount of gas needed to keep the flames burning to pass through. Therefore, the temperature begins to drop, the water volume decreases, leading to its descent from the glass tube (T), which reduces the pressure of the water on the diaphragm. Consequently, the diaphragm retracts from the inlet tube opening, allowing more gas to flow through; the flames grow larger again, and the temperature rises once more. As soon as the volume of water increases due to the rising temperature to match the set working temperature of the apparatus, it will once again rise in the tube (T), and the gas will be cut off again. The three burners are mounted on a support that can move vertically up or down along one of the legs of the incubator. The flames are shielded from drafts by mica chimneys. Ventilation is provided through an adjustable valve (V′) at the lower end of the incubator and by tubular openings, also fitted with valves (V), in the lid above.

The incubator is very reliable and may be worked within very narrow limits of variation, provided that the gas-supply be regulated by a gas-pressure regulator, that the height of the water in the tube (T) is maintained by daily additions of a few drops of distilled water, and that the incubator itself be protected from draughts.

The incubator is highly reliable and can operate within very narrow limits of variation, as long as the gas supply is controlled by a gas-pressure regulator, the water level in the tube (T) is kept consistent with daily additions of a few drops of distilled water, and the incubator is shielded from drafts.

Another form of d’Arsonval incubator has a glass door in the side of it and a slightly modified form of the heat regulator.

Another type of d’Arsonval incubator has a glass door on the side and a slightly updated version of the heat regulator.

Other cylindrical forms of incubators are made by Lequeux of Paris. In one of these the heat regulator is a bimetallic thermostat, the movements of which are enlarged by a simple series of levers, so that a valve can be automatically adjusted to allow more or less heat from the flame to pass through the heating flue.

Other cylindrical incubators are made by Lequeux in Paris. In one of these, the heat regulator is a bimetallic thermostat, whose movements are amplified by a straightforward series of levers, so that a valve can be automatically adjusted to let more or less heat from the flame flow through the heating flue.

In another form there is a movable interior, and an arrangement for keeping the air in the incubation chamber saturated. It is governed by a bimetallic thermostat of the Roux type.

In another version, there's a mobile interior and a setup to keep the air in the incubation chamber fully saturated. It’s controlled by a Roux-type bimetallic thermostat.

In Dr Hüppe’s improved form of his incubator, which is approximately square in form, the double-walled water tank is completely surrounded externally by an air chamber, which is heated by the passage through it of the products of combustion of the two flames. The heated gases escape through an adjustable aperture at the top. In the earlier form the water tank was traversed by a number of hot-air flues, and there was consequently no external hot-air chamber. There is an arrangement of tubes for ventilation, which allow fresh air to enter the lower part of the incubation chamber and to leave it at the top. The incoming air is warmed before it enters. The walls are made of lead-coated steel, and externally the incubator is covered with linoleum. In the more expensive forms the inner chamber is of copper. The temperature may be controlled by any of the simpler mercury thermostats described below.

In Dr. Hüppe’s updated design of his incubator, which is roughly square-shaped, the double-walled water tank is entirely surrounded on the outside by an air chamber that gets heated by the combustion gases from the two flames passing through it. The heated gases exit through an adjustable opening at the top. In the previous version, the water tank had several hot-air ducts running through it, leaving no external hot-air chamber. There’s a system of tubes for ventilation that lets fresh air come into the lower part of the incubation chamber and exit at the top. The incoming air is warmed before it enters. The walls are made of lead-coated steel, and the outside of the incubator is covered in linoleum. In the more expensive models, the inner chamber is made of copper. The temperature can be adjusted using any of the simpler mercury thermostats described below.

Dr Babes’ incubator is somewhat similar, but the water tank is not surrounded by a hot-air chamber. Instead it is traversed by a number of vertical flues through which the heated gases from the flames pass. Ventilation is provided for and there is an apparatus for controlling the humidity of the air in the incubation chamber. As in Hüppe’s incubator, the bottom is conical in form. The walls of the incubator are of lead-coated steel, and externally they are covered with linoleum; there are two doors, an inner one of glass and an outer one of metal. The temperature may be controlled as in Hüppe’s incubator.

Dr. Babes’ incubator is somewhat similar, but the water tank doesn't have a hot-air chamber around it. Instead, it has several vertical flues that allow heated gases from the flames to pass through. It includes a ventilation system and a device to control the humidity in the incubation chamber. Like Hüppe’s incubator, the bottom is cone-shaped. The walls are made of lead-coated steel and are covered externally with linoleum; there are two doors, an inner glass one and an outer metal one. The temperature can be adjusted just like in Hüppe’s incubator.

Hearson has designed several forms of bacteriological (biological) incubators, made by Chas. Hearson & Co., Ltd. Some are heated by a petroleum lamp and others by a gas flame. In the form heated by a lamp, for which, however, gas can be substituted, the incubation chamber is surrounded by a water tank (fig. 9, A) and the lowest part of this is traversed by an in-going (L) and an out-going flue. The mode of regulation of the temperature is by means of a thermostat which operates the movements of a cap (F) over the main flue (V), and it is identical in its chief features with the method employed in the chicken incubator. The thermostat (S) is situated in the upper part of the incubation chamber.

Hearson has created several types of bacteriological (biological) incubators, produced by Chas. Hearson & Co., Ltd. Some of these are heated by a petroleum lamp, while others use a gas flame. In the version heated by a lamp, which can also use gas as a substitute, the incubation chamber is surrounded by a water tank (fig. 9, A), and the lowest section has an incoming (L) and an outgoing flue. The temperature is regulated using a thermostat that controls a cap (F) over the main flue (V), and this method is similar to that used in chicken incubators. The thermostat (S) is located in the upper part of the incubation chamber.

Fig. 9.—Hearson’s Bacteriological Incubator. (Heated by a petroleum lamp.)

In the other form (fig. 10) for which gas is used exclusively, there are no flues traversing the water tank. This latter is heated from its conical floor by a burner beneath the incubator. The heat regulation is controlled by a thermostat of the same nature as in the form of incubator just described, but instead of operating by lowering or raising a cap over a main flue, so as to direct the heated gases either through the water tank if the temperature is falling, or through the main flue directly to the exterior if it is rising, it actuates a gas-governor, so that the flame itself is increased or diminished in size according to the needs of the incubator. The gas-governor (fig. 11) is fixed to the roof of the incubator. The horizontal arm (D) is the same that raises the cap (fig. 9, F) over the flue in the other form of incubator, but in this case it simply acts as the bearer of the sliding weight. Beyond its fulcrum (fig. 11, G) it is continued into a detent-like spur (B) which pushes down upon a button attached to a rubber diaphragm, when the thermostat within the incubator is expanded by a rise in temperature. The button thus forced down, more or less completely closes the inlet gas aperture, and so reduces or cuts off the gas supply to the flame. There is a by-pass to prevent the flame from going out completely, and the size of this can be adjusted by the screw (S). Hearson’s incubators have the reputation of very accurate performance and practically need no attention for months, or even years.

In the other version (fig. 10) that uses only gas, there are no ducts running through the water tank. This tank is heated from its conical base by a burner located beneath the incubator. Temperature regulation is managed by a thermostat similar to the one described in the previous type of incubator, but instead of raising or lowering a cap over a main duct to direct the heated gases through the water tank when the temperature drops, or directly to the outside when it rises, it operates a gas governor. This means that the size of the flame is adjusted based on the needs of the incubator. The gas governor (fig. 11) is mounted on the top of the incubator. The horizontal arm (D) is the same one that raises the cap (fig. 9, F) over the duct in the other type of incubator, but in this case, it simply supports the sliding weight. Beyond its pivot point (fig. 11, G), it extends into a latch-like projection (B) that presses down on a button connected to a rubber diaphragm when the thermostat inside the incubator expands due to rising temperature. The button, once pressed down, closes the gas inlet partially or completely, reducing or shutting off the gas flow to the flame. There is a bypass to ensure that the flame doesn’t go out completely, and its size can be adjusted with the screw (S). Hearson’s incubators are known for their precise performance and can operate for months, or even years, with minimal attention.

Fig. 10.—Hearson’s Bacteriological Incubator (heated by a gas flame).
Fig. 11.—Gas-governor.

Schribaux’s incubator is a hot-air form. Its walls are of metal, 366 but it is cased externally with wood, which serves as the insulating material. Against the inner metal wall of the incubator, and upon its internal surface, there are disposed a number of vertical tubes, which open through the roof above into a common discharging funnel. Below, at the bottom of the incubator they receive the heated gases of several burners, which as they pass through them radiate their heat evenly throughout the incubation chamber. In each side wall, at the bottom of the chamber, is an adjustable ventilating valve.

Schribaux’s incubator is a hot-air design. Its walls are made of metal, 366 but it's covered on the outside with wood, which acts as insulation. Along the inner metal wall of the incubator, there are several vertical tubes that open through the roof into a common exhaust funnel. At the bottom of the incubator, these tubes collect heated gases from multiple burners, which, as they flow through, distribute their heat evenly throughout the incubation chamber. Each side wall at the bottom of the chamber has an adjustable ventilation valve.

Inside the incubation chamber, and situated against its left-hand wall, is a U-shaped bimetallic thermostat of the Roux design, described below. This very accurately controls the temperature of the incubator.

Inside the incubation chamber, located against the left-hand wall, is a U-shaped bimetallic thermostat of the Roux design, described below. This controls the temperature of the incubator with high precision.

(c) Cool Incubators.—In bacteriological laboratories there are two standards of temperature, one chiefly for the culture of non-pathogenic organisms and the other for the pathogenic forms. The first standard of temperature lies between 18° and 20° C., and the second between 35° and 38° C. But in hot countries, and even in temperate regions during the summer, the external temperature is much higher than the former of these two standards, with the result that many cultures, especially the gelatine ones, are spoiled. The difficulty is often partially overcome by running cold water through the incubator.

(c) Cool Incubators.—In bacteriological labs, there are two temperature standards: one mainly for growing non-pathogenic organisms and the other for pathogenic ones. The first temperature range is between 18° and 20° C, while the second is between 35° and 38° C. However, in hot countries, and even in temperate regions during summer, the outside temperature is often much higher than the first standard, which can spoil many cultures, especially gelatin ones. This problem is sometimes partially solved by circulating cold water through the incubator.

Hearson, however, has constructed a “cool biological incubator,” in which by an ingenious device the expansion or contraction of the thermostatic capsule deflects a horizontal pipe (C) (fig. 12), through which cold water from an ordinary tap is kept running, in one of two directions. If it is deflected so as to open into the tube (D), the cold water passes into the tank (F), where it is warmed by a gas flame, and thence it passes into the water-jacket of the incubator. If it is deflected so as to open into the pipe (E), it then runs through the ice tank (B), containing broken ice, before passing through the water-jacket of the incubator. If it poured into neither of these pipes it then simply passes out through the pipe (H) to the waste pipe (N). By this device the temperature of the incubator can be kept constant at any desired point, even though it may be some 30° to 40° C. below that of the external air.

Hearson, however, has created a “cool biological incubator,” where an ingenious mechanism lets the expansion or contraction of the thermostatic capsule control a horizontal pipe (C) (fig. 12). Cold water from a regular tap flows continuously through this pipe in one of two directions. If it's directed into the tube (D), the cold water goes into the tank (F), where a gas flame warms it, before it moves into the water jacket of the incubator. If it's directed into the pipe (E), it runs through the ice tank (B), filled with crushed ice, before flowing through the water jacket of the incubator. If it doesn't go into either of these pipes, it simply exits through the pipe (H) to the waste pipe (N). This design allows the incubator’s temperature to be maintained at any desired level, even when it’s 30° to 40° C below the outside temperature.

Dr Roux has also designed an incubator which can be maintained at a constant temperature below that of the surrounding air. This also depends upon the principle of carrying water through an ice-safe, which then traverses a pipe within the incubator chamber before passing into the water-jacket of the machine. The heat-regulating apparatus is a bimetallic thermostat. The incubator is made by Lequeux of Paris.

Dr. Roux has also created an incubator that can keep a consistent temperature lower than the surrounding air. This relies on the principle of moving water through an ice-safe, which then goes through a pipe inside the incubator chamber before entering the machine's water jacket. The heat-regulating system uses a bimetallic thermostat. The incubator is manufactured by Lequeux of Paris.

The most recent forms of all kinds of incubators, made by Hearson of London, Lequeux of Paris and Lautenschläger of Berlin are both heated and regulated by electricity. The heating is accomplished by electric radiators.

The latest types of incubators, created by Hearson from London, Lequeux from Paris, and Lautenschläger from Berlin, are both electrically heated and controlled. The heating is done using electric radiators.

Fig. 12.—Hearson’s Cool Biological Incubator.

In Hearson’s machines the regulation of the temperature is brought about by the breaking or making of the electric current, through the lifting or depression of a platinum contact, actuated by the expansion or contraction of the thermostatic capsule.

In Hearson’s machines, the temperature is controlled by switching the electric current on or off, which is done by raising or lowering a platinum contact that is triggered by the expansion or contraction of the thermostatic capsule.

In Roux’s apparatus, made by Lequeux, the make and break is attained by the movement of one limb of a bimetallic thermostat, and in some forms a resistance coil and rheostat are placed in the circuit.

In Roux’s device, created by Lequeux, the on and off function is achieved by the movement of one arm of a bimetallic thermostat, and in some versions, a resistance coil and rheostat are included in the circuit.

At the Pasteur Institute in Paris, and at other large laboratories in France, the bacteriological incubator is raised to the dimensions of a room. In the centre of this room is a large boiler heated by gas-burners, the fumes from which pass through a large flue to the outside. The flame of the burners is regulated by a bimetallic thermostat. The gas by-pass can be regulated by an attendant. The cultures are contained in vessels placed on shelves, which are ranged round the side of the room.

At the Pasteur Institute in Paris, as well as at other large labs in France, the bacteriological incubator is the size of a room. In the center of this room is a big boiler heated by gas burners, with the fumes being funneled outside through a large flue. The flame of the burners is controlled by a bimetallic thermostat. An attendant can adjust the gas by-pass. The cultures are kept in containers placed on shelves that line the walls of the room.

Human Incubators.

Human Incubators.

Fig. 13.—Tarnier’s Incubator.

The first incubator designed for rearing children who are too weak to survive under normal conditions, or who are prematurely born, is that of Dr Tarnier. It was constructed in 1880 and was first used at the Paris Maternity Hospital. Its form is that of a rectangular box measuring 65 × 30 × 50 centimetres (fig. 13). It is divided into an upper and lower chamber; the former contains the infant, while the latter serves as a heating chamber, and in reality is simply a modified water-tank. The partition (P) which divides the incubator into two chambers does not extend the whole length of it, so that the upper and lower chambers are at one end of the apparatus in communication with each other. It is through this passage that the heated air from the lower chamber passes into the upper one containing the infant. The narrow bottom chamber C serves to prevent loss of heat from the base of the water-bottles. The 367 outside air is admitted into the lower chamber at the opposite end, through an aperture (A), and passing over a series of bottles (B) containing warm water, becomes heated. The air is rendered adequately moist by means of a wetted sponge (S) which is placed at the entrance of the lower chamber into the upper. The warmed and moistened air is determined in its direction by the position of the outlet aperture (O), which is situated above and just behind the head of the infant. It contains a helix valve (H) and the rotation of this is an indication that the air is circulating within the incubator.

The first incubator made for taking care of babies who are too weak to survive in normal conditions or who are born prematurely is by Dr. Tarnier. It was built in 1880 and first used at the Paris Maternity Hospital. It looks like a rectangular box measuring 65 × 30 × 50 centimeters (fig. 13). It has an upper and a lower chamber; the upper chamber holds the infant, while the lower chamber works as a heating chamber, basically just a modified water tank. The partition (P) that separates the two chambers doesn’t go all the way through, allowing the upper and lower chambers to connect at one end of the device. Heated air from the lower chamber moves into the upper chamber where the baby is. The narrow bottom chamber C helps to keep heat from escaping from the base of the water bottles. The outside air is brought into the lower chamber at the opposite end through an opening (A), and as it passes over a series of bottles (B) filled with warm water, it gets heated up. The air is kept adequately moist with a wet sponge (S) placed at the entrance of the lower chamber leading into the upper one. The direction of the warmed and moistened air is guided by the position of the outlet opening (O), located above and just behind the infant's head. It has a helix valve (H), and the rotation of this indicates that the air is circulating inside the incubator.

The child is kept under observation by means of a sliding glass door (G) situated in the upper or roof wall of the incubator. Immediately beneath this, and attached to one of the side walls, is a thermometer (T) which records the temperature of the air in the infant-chamber. The temperature should be maintained at 31° to 32° C. The precise limit of temperature must of course be determined by the condition of the child; the smaller and weaker it is, the higher the temperature must be.

The child is monitored through a sliding glass door (G) located in the upper or roof wall of the incubator. Directly below this, and fixed to one of the side walls, is a thermometer (T) that measures the air temperature in the infant chamber. The temperature should be kept between 31° and 32° C. The exact temperature limit should be adjusted based on the child's condition; the smaller and weaker the child is, the higher the temperature needs to be.

The warm water vessels contain three-quarters of a pint of water and four of them are sufficient to maintain the required temperature, provided that the external air does not fall below 16° C. The vessels are withdrawn and replaced through an entrance to the lower chamber, and which can be opened or closed by a sliding door (D).

The warm water vessels hold three-quarters of a pint of water each, and four of them are enough to keep the necessary temperature, as long as the outside air doesn't drop below 16° C. The vessels are taken out and put back in through an entry to the lower chamber, which is operated by a sliding door (D).

The walls of the incubator, with the exception of the glass sliding door, are made of wood 25 millimetres thick.

The walls of the incubator, except for the glass sliding door, are made of 25-millimeter thick wood.

The apparatus appears to have been successful, if by success is understood the indiscriminate saving of life apart from all other considerations, since the mortality of infants under 2000 grammes has been reduced by about 30%, and about 45% of children who are prematurely born are saved.

The device seems to have been effective, if effectiveness means saving lives without considering other factors, as the mortality rate for infants under 2000 grams has decreased by around 30%, and about 45% of prematurely born children are now saved.

Dr Tarnier’s apparatus requires constant attention, and the water in the warm water vessels needs renewing sufficiently often. It is not provided with a temperature regulator and consequently fluctuations of internal temperature, due to external thermal variations, are liable to occur.

Dr. Tarnier’s device needs regular monitoring, and the water in the warm water containers must be refreshed often enough. It doesn't have a temperature regulator, so changes in internal temperature can happen because of external temperature variations.

Fig. 14.—Hearson’s “Thermostatic Nurse.”

In Hearson’s Thermostatic Nurse these drawbacks are to a large extent obviated. This “Nurse” consists fundamentally of an application of the arrangements for heating and moistening the air and for regulating the temperature of Hearson’s chick incubator to Dr Tarnier’s human incubator. As in this latter form, there are two chambers (fig. 14), an upper (A) and a lower (B), connected with each other in the same way as in Tarnier’s apparatus. The upper chamber contains the infant, but the lower is not a heating but a moistening chamber. Through apertures (M) in the bottom of the lower chamber, the external air passes through, and as in the chick incubator it then passes through perforations in the inner cylinder of a water tray (O) and thence over the surface of the water in the tray, through a sheet of wet canvas, to the chamber itself. Hence it passes to the infant chamber and ultimately leaves this through a series of perforations round the top. The air in both chambers is heated by a warm-water tank. This tank forms the partition which divides the incubator into upper and lower chambers and is made of metal. Through the water contained in it, an incoming (R) and an outgoing (R) to the left flue, continuous with each other, pass. These two flues are related to each other as in the chick incubator (see above) and the inlet flue is heated in the same way and the outlet flue discharges similarly. The heat-regulating apparatus is identical with that in the chick incubator, and the thermostatic capsule (S) is placed in the upper chamber, near the head of the infant.

In Hearson’s Thermostatic Nurse, these issues are largely resolved. This “Nurse” essentially applies the systems for heating and humidifying air and controlling temperature from Hearson’s chick incubator to Dr. Tarnier’s human incubator. Similar to the latter, it has two chambers (fig. 14), an upper (A) and a lower (B), that are connected in the same manner as Tarnier’s device. The upper chamber holds the infant, while the lower one is designed for humidification, not heating. External air enters through openings (M) at the bottom of the lower chamber, and as with the chick incubator, the air flows through holes in the inner cylinder of a water tray (O) and then over the surface of the water in the tray, passing through a sheet of wet canvas into the chamber. From there, it moves to the infant chamber and eventually exits through a series of holes around the top. Both chambers are warmed by a hot water tank, which also acts as a divider between the upper and lower chambers and is made of metal. Through the water inside, an incoming (R) and outgoing (R) flue on the left connect continuously. These two flues function similarly to those in the chick incubator (as noted above), with the inlet flue heated in the same manner and the outlet flue discharging in a similar way. The heat-regulating system is the same as that in the chick incubator, and the thermostatic capsule (S) is positioned in the upper chamber, near the baby’s head.

The child is placed in a basket which has perforated walls, and is open above. The basket rests upon two shallow supports (D) situated on the upper surface of the water-tank partition. The child is kept under observation through a glass door in the upper or roof-wall of the incubator.

The child is placed in a basket with holes in the walls and an open top. The basket sits on two shallow supports (D) located on the upper surface of the water-tank partition. The child is monitored through a glass door in the upper or roof wall of the incubator.

In Great Britain this apparatus is in use at various hospitals and workhouses throughout the country, and provided there is no great fluctuation of barometric pressure, it maintains a uniform temperature.

In Great Britain, this equipment is being used in various hospitals and workhouses across the country, and as long as there isn’t a significant change in barometric pressure, it keeps a consistent temperature.

Thermo-Regulators or Thermostats.

Thermostats.

Certain special forms of thermo-regulators, adapted to the requirements of the particular incubators to which they are attached, have already been described. It remains now to describe other forms which are of more general application. Only those kinds will be described which are applicable to incubators. The special forms used for investigations in physical-chemistry are not described. There are various types of thermo-regulators, all of which fall into one of two classes. Either they act through the expansion of a solid, or through that of a liquid. They are so adjusted, that, at a certain temperature, the expansion of the material chosen causes the gas supply to be nearly completely cut off. The gas flame is prevented from being wholly extinguished by means of a small by-pass.

Certain specialized types of thermo-regulators, designed for the specific requirements of the incubators they’re connected to, have already been discussed. Now, it’s time to look at other types that are more widely applicable. Only types relevant to incubators will be covered. The specialized forms used in physical chemistry research will not be included. There are several kinds of thermo-regulators, which can be classified into one of two categories. They either function based on the expansion of a solid or the expansion of a liquid. They are calibrated so that, at a specific temperature, the expansion of the chosen material nearly completely shuts off the gas supply. A small by-pass prevents the gas flame from being completely extinguished.

Fig. 15.—Page’s Thermostat.

We will first describe those which act through the expansion of a liquid. A very efficient and cheap form is that described by F. J. M. Page in the Journal of the Chemical Society for 1876. The regulator consists of a glass bulb (fig. 15 B), continuous above with a tubular limb (L). At the upper part of the limb is a lateral tubular arm (A) which bends downwards and constitutes the outlet pipe. At the upper extremity of the limb there is a short and much wider tube (T), the lower end of which slides upwards or downwards along it. The upper end of this wider tube is closed by a cork and through a perforation in this a very small glass tube (G) passes downwards into the limb of the regulator to a point a short distance below the exit of the outlet tube. The exact height of the lower aperture of the small tube can be varied by sliding the wider tube up or down along the limb. The by-pass (P) consists of a transverse connexion between the inlet and outlet gas pipes, and the amount of gas which travels through the short circuit thus formed is regulated by means of a stopcock. The by-pass, however, can be formed, as suggested by Schäfer (Practical Histology, 1877, p. 80), by making an extremely small hole in the small inlet tube, a little way above its lower extremity. But unless this hole be small enough, too much gas will be allowed to pass, and a sufficiently low temperature therefore unattainable. The regulator is filled with mercury until the top of the column reaches within ½ in. of the exit of the outlet tube, the bulb is placed in the incubator chamber, and gas is allowed to pass through it. By pushing down the inner inlet tube (G) until its aperture is immersed beneath the mercury, the gas supply is cut off, with the exception of that passing through the by-pass. The stopcock is now turned until only the smallest flame exists. The inlet pipe is then raised again above the mercury, and the flame consequently increases in size. The temperature of the incubator gradually rises, and when the desired degree is reached, the inlet tube is pushed down until the end is just beneath the surface of the mercury. The 368 gas supply is thus cut off at the desired temperature. If the temperature of the incubator falls, the mercury contracts, the aperture of the inlet tube is uncovered, the gas supply is renewed and the flame increased. The temperature will then rise until the required point is reached, when the gas supply will again be cut off. A uniform temperature which oscillates within a range of half a degree is thus attained.

We will first describe those that operate through liquid expansion. A very efficient and affordable design is the one described by F. J. M. Page in the Journal of the Chemical Society for 1876. The regulator consists of a glass bulb (fig. 15 B), which connects above to a tubular limb (L). At the top of the limb is a side tubular arm (A) that curves downward and serves as the outlet pipe. At the upper end of the limb, there is a short, wider tube (T), the lower end of which can slide up or down along the limb. The top of this wider tube is sealed with a cork, and a small glass tube (G) passes through a hole in it and extends downward into the limb of the regulator, stopping a short distance above the outlet tube. The exact height of the lower opening of the small tube can be adjusted by moving the wider tube along the limb. The by-pass (P) is a cross-connection between the inlet and outlet gas pipes, and the amount of gas that flows through this short circuit is controlled by a stopcock. As Schäfer suggested in Practical Histology, 1877, p. 80, the by-pass can also be created by making a tiny hole in the small inlet tube, a little above its lower end. However, if this hole is too large, too much gas will escape, making it impossible to achieve a sufficiently low temperature. The regulator is filled with mercury until the top of the column is about ½ in. below the outlet tube, the bulb is placed in the incubator chamber, and gas is allowed to flow through it. By pushing down the inner inlet tube (G) until its opening is submerged in the mercury, the gas supply is cut off, except for what passes through the by-pass. The stopcock is then adjusted until only the smallest flame remains. The inlet pipe is raised again above the mercury, causing the flame to grow. The temperature of the incubator gradually increases, and when the desired level is reached, the inlet tube is pushed down until its end is just below the surface of the mercury. The gas supply is thus cut off at the targeted temperature. If the incubator temperature drops, the mercury contracts, exposing the inlet tube's opening, renewing the gas flow and increasing the flame. The temperature will rise until it hits the desired point, at which point the gas supply will be cut off again. This process establishes a consistent temperature that varies within half a degree.

Fig. 16.—Reichert’s Thermo-Regulator.

Reichert’s Thermo-regulator (fig. 16) is another simple and also an earlier form. The stem (S) of the regulator is enlarged above and receives a hollow T-piece (P), the vertical limb of which fits accurately into the enlarged end of the stem, and one end of the cross-limb receives the inlet gas pipe; the other end is closed. The vertical limb of the T-piece is narrowed down at its lower extremity and opens by a small aperture. Above this terminal aperture is a lateral one of the smallest size. From the enlarged end of the stem there passes out a lateral arm (A) which is connected with the outlet pipe to the burner, and lower down another arm (L), which is closed at its outer extremity by a screw (R), is also attached. The stem and lower arm are filled with mercury and the bulb of the stem is placed in the incubator chamber, and gas allowed to pass. When the desired temperature is reached, the mercury in the stem is forced upwards until it closes the aperture of the T-piece, by screwing in the screw (R) of the lower lateral arm (L).

Reichert’s Thermo-regulator (fig. 16) is another simple and earlier version. The stem (S) of the regulator is wider at the top and holds a hollow T-piece (P). The vertical part fits snugly into the widened end of the stem, with one end of the cross-piece connecting to the inlet gas pipe and the other end sealed. The vertical section of the T-piece narrows at the bottom and opens with a small opening. Above this opening, there's a small lateral one. From the wider end of the stem, there’s a side arm (A) that connects to the outlet pipe to the burner, and further down, there’s another arm (L), which is closed at its outer end with a screw (R). The stem and lower arm are filled with mercury, and the bulb of the stem is placed in the incubator chamber while gas is allowed to flow. When the desired temperature is reached, the mercury in the stem is pushed upwards until it seals the opening of the T-piece by tightening the screw (R) on the lower lateral arm (L).

There are several modifications of Reichert’s original form. In one of these the screw arrangement in the lower arm is replaced by a piston rod working in a narrow bore of a vertically bent limb of the arm. In another form, the other end of the cross bar of the T-piece is open and leads through a stopcock to a third arm, which opens into the enlarged upper end of the stem opposite to the outlet arm (A); this modification acts as an adjustable by-pass and replaces the minute aperture in the side of the vertical limb of the T-piece.

There are several variations of Reichert’s original design. In one of them, the screw system in the lower arm is substituted with a piston rod that operates within a narrow section of a vertically bent part of the arm. In another version, the other end of the crossbar of the T-piece is open and connects through a stopcock to a third arm, which leads into the widened upper end of the stem opposite the outlet arm (A); this variation serves as an adjustable bypass and takes the place of the tiny opening on the side of the vertical part of the T-piece.

In Babes’ modification the gas supply is cut off, not by the occlusion by the rising mercury of the aperture of the T-piece, but by a floating beaded wire-valve. The aperture of the vertical limb of the T-piece (P) is traversed by a fine wire which is enlarged at both ends into a bead-like knob. The wire fits loosely in the aperture and not only therefore works easily in it, but allows gas to freely pass. When the lower bead-like knob, however, is raised by the expansion of the mercury, the gas supply is cut off by the bead being carried up against the orifice.

In Babes’ modification, the gas supply is shut off not by the mercury blocking the opening of the T-piece, but by a floating beaded wire valve. The opening of the vertical arm of the T-piece (P) has a fine wire that is enlarged at both ends into bead-like knobs. The wire fits loosely in the opening, allowing it to move easily and letting gas flow through freely. However, when the lower bead-like knob is lifted by the expansion of the mercury, the gas supply is stopped as the bead rises and covers the opening.

Fig. 17.—Cuccatti’s Thermo-Regulator.

Cuccatti’s thermo-regulator (fig. 17) is an exceedingly simple and ingenious form. The stem (S) of the regulator is enlarged below into a bulb, while above it divides into a V. The two limbs of the V are of course traversed by a canal and they are connected above by a tubular cross bar (C). In the middle of this there is a stopcock situated between the two points where the bar joins the limbs of the V. One end of the cross-tube serves as an inlet and the other as an outlet for the gas. The stopcock serves as an adjustable by-pass. About an inch below the point where the two limbs of the V join the stem, the bore of the latter is enlarged, and it leads into a lateral arm (A), containing a screw (R), similar to the corresponding arm in Reichert’s regulator. When the mercury in the bulb and stem expands, it rises, and reaching the point when the two limbs of the V meet occludes the orifice to both and thus cuts off the gas supply, except that which is passing through the by-pass of the stopcock. The temperature at which this occlusion will take place can be determined by the screw in the lateral arm. The more this is screwed in, the lower will be the temperature at which the gas becomes cut off, and vice versa.

Cuccatti’s thermo-regulator (fig. 17) is an extremely simple and clever design. The stem (S) of the regulator widens into a bulb at the bottom, and above it splits into a V shape. The two limbs of the V have a channel running through them and are connected at the top by a tubular crossbar (C). In the center of this crossbar is a stopcock located between the two points where the bar connects to the limbs of the V. One end of the cross-tube acts as an inlet, while the other serves as an outlet for the gas. The stopcock functions as an adjustable by-pass. About an inch below where the two limbs of the V connect to the stem, the diameter of the stem expands, leading into a lateral arm (A) that contains a screw (R), similar to the corresponding arm in Reichert’s regulator. When the mercury in the bulb and stem expands, it rises, and when it reaches the point where the two limbs of the V meet, it closes off the outlet from both, thus stopping the gas supply, except for what is going through the by-pass of the stopcock. The temperature at which this closure occurs can be set using the screw in the lateral arm. The more the screw is tightened, the lower the temperature at which the gas supply will stop, and vice versa.

Bunsen’s, Kemp’s and Muenke’s regulators are in reality of the nature of air-thermometers, and act by the expansion and contraction of air, which raises or lowers respectively a column of mercury; this in its turn results in the occlusion or opening of the gas aperture. Such forms, however, are subject to the influence of barometric pressure and an alteration of 0.5 in. of the barometer column may result in the variation of the temperature to as much as 2°.

Bunsen’s, Kemp’s, and Muenke’s regulators are essentially air thermometers. They work by the expansion and contraction of air, which raises or lowers a column of mercury, causing the gas aperture to open or close. However, these types are affected by barometric pressure, and a change of 0.5 inches in the barometer can lead to a temperature variation of up to 2°.

Lothar Meyer’s regulator is described in the Berichte of the German Chemical Society, 1883, p. 1089. It is essentially a liquid thermometer, the mercury column being raised by the expansion of a liquid of low boiling-point. The liquid replaces the air in Bunsen’s and other similar forms. The boiling-point of this liquid must be below the temperature required as constant.

Lothar Meyer’s regulator is detailed in the Berichte of the German Chemical Society, 1883, p. 1089. It’s basically a liquid thermometer, where the mercury column rises due to the expansion of a liquid with a low boiling point. The liquid takes the place of the air in Bunsen’s and other similar designs. The boiling point of this liquid has to be lower than the temperature needed to remain constant.

Fig. 18.—Dr Roux’s Thermostat (straight bar).

The solid forms of thermostats are constructed upon the same principle as the compensation balance of a watch or the compensation pendulum of a clock. This depends upon the fact that the co-efficient of expansion is different for different metals. It therefore results that if two bars of different metals are fastened together along their lengths (fig. 18, Z and ST) with the same rise of temperature one of these will expand or lengthen more than the other. And since both are fastened together and must therefore accommodate themselves within the same linear area, it follows that the compound rod must bend into a curved form, in order that the bar of greater expansion may occupy the surface of greater length, i.e. the convex one. Conversely, when the temperature falls, the greater degree of contraction will be in the same bar, and the surface occupied by it will tend to become the concave one. If, then, one end of this compound rod be fixed and the other free, the latter end will describe a backward and forward movement through an arc of a circle, which will correspond with the oscillations of temperature. This movement can be utilized by means of simple mechanical arrangements, to open or close the stopcock of a gas supply pipe.

The solid forms of thermostats are based on the same principle as the balance compensator in a watch or the compensation pendulum in a clock. This relies on the fact that different metals have different expansion rates. As a result, if two bars made of different metals are joined together lengthwise (fig. 18, Z and ST), one will expand or lengthen more than the other when the temperature rises. Since both bars are joined together and must fit within the same linear space, the combined rod must bend into a curve, allowing the bar that expands more to take up the longer path, meaning it becomes the convex side. Conversely, when the temperature drops, the bar with greater contraction will be the same one, and it will tend to occupy the concave side. If one end of this combined rod is fixed and the other end is free, the free end will move back and forth in an arc, corresponding to the temperature fluctuations. This movement can be harnessed through simple mechanical setups to open or close a gas supply valve.

In the construction of this type of thermostat it is obvious that the greater the difference in the co-efficient of expansion of the two metals used, the larger will be the amplitude of the movement obtained. Steel and zinc are two metals which satisfy this condition. The co-efficient of steel is the lowest of all metals and is comparable in its degree with that of glass. Substances which are not metals, such as vulcanite and porcelain, are sometimes used to replace steel, as the substance of low co-efficient of expansion.

In building this kind of thermostat, it's clear that the greater the difference in the expansion rates of the two metals used, the bigger the movement will be. Steel and zinc are two metals that fit this requirement. Steel has the lowest expansion rate of all metals and is similar to that of glass. Non-metal materials like vulcanite and porcelain are sometimes used instead of steel as the material with a low expansion rate.

Fig. 19.—Dr Roux’s Thermostat (U-shaped bar).

The bimetallic thermostat most commonly employed is one of the two forms designed by Dr Roux. In one of these forms the compound bar is straight (fig. 18) and in the other it is U-shaped (fig. 19). In the former type the bar itself is enclosed in a tube (T) of metal, the wall of which is perforated. Towards the open end of this tube the gas box or case (C) is fixed. In the U-shape form it is attached to the outer surface (zinc) of one limb of the bar. The gas box is capable of adjustment with respect to its distance from the bar, by means of a screw (S) and a spiral spring (SP), which moves the box outwards or inwards along a rod (R). This adjustment enables the degree of temperature at which it is desired that the gas shall be cut off to be fixed accurately, and within a certain more or less extended range. The inlet and the outlet pipe are disconnected from each other in the gas box by means of a piston-like rod (P) and valve (V), which slides backwards and forwards in the tubular part (T) of the box, from which the outlet pipe emerges. When the valve (V) rests upon the edge of this box, the gas is completely cut off from passing through the outlet pipe, with the exception of that which passes through an exceedingly small aperture (B), serving as a by-pass. This is just large enough to allow sufficient gas to pass to maintain a small flame. The piston-like rod and valve, when free, is kept pressed outwards by means of a spiral spring. This ensures that the valve shall follow the movements of the compound bar. When this bar bends towards the gas box owing to a fall of temperature, the valve is pushed back away from the orifice and gas in increasing quantity passes through. The temperature of the incubator begins then to rise, and the zinc bar (Z) expanding more than the steel one (ST), the bar bends outwards and the valve once more cuts off the gas supply.

The most commonly used bimetallic thermostat is one of the two designs created by Dr. Roux. In one design, the compound bar is straight (fig. 18), and in the other, it is U-shaped (fig. 19). In the straight type, the bar is enclosed in a metal tube (T) with perforated walls. At the open end of the tube, a gas box or case (C) is attached. In the U-shaped version, it connects to the outer surface (zinc) of one limb of the bar. The gas box can be adjusted in relation to the bar's distance using a screw (S) and a spiral spring (SP), which moves the box in or out along a rod (R). This adjustment allows for precise setting of the temperature at which the gas is meant to be cut off, within a certain range. The inlet and outlet pipes are disconnected in the gas box by a piston-like rod (P) and valve (V) that slides back and forth in the tubular part (T) of the box, where the outlet pipe comes out. When the valve (V) rests against the edge of the box, it completely blocks gas from flowing through the outlet pipe, except for a very small amount that passes through a tiny opening (B), acting as a by-pass. This opening is just big enough to let enough gas through to keep a small flame going. The piston-like rod and valve are pushed outward by a spiral spring when they’re free, ensuring the valve moves with the compound bar. When the bar bends towards the gas box due to a drop in temperature, the valve gets pushed back, allowing more gas to flow through. As the incubator’s temperature begins to rise, the zinc bar (Z) expands more than the steel one (ST), causing the bar to bend outward and the valve to cut off the gas supply again.

(d) Gas-Pressure Regulators.—The liquid form of thermo-regulators especially work with a greater degree of accuracy if they are combined with some apparatus which controls the variations in gas pressure. There are various forms of these regulators, most of which are figured and sometimes partially described in the catalogues of various 369 makers of scientific instruments. It will suffice if we describe two forms, one of which (that of Buddicom) can be made by a laboratory attendant of average intelligence.

(d) Gas-Pressure Regulators.—The liquid type of thermo-regulators work more accurately when paired with equipment that manages fluctuations in gas pressure. There are several types of these regulators, most of which are illustrated and sometimes partially explained in the catalogs of different manufacturers of scientific instruments. It will be enough to describe two types, one of which (the Buddicom model) can be assembled by a lab technician of average skill.

Fig. 20.—Buddicom’s Gas Regulator.

In R. A. Buddicom’s gas regulator (fig. 20) the inlet (I) and outlet (O) gas pipe open into a metal bell (B), the lower and open end of which is immersed beneath water contained in a metal tray (T). The bell is suspended upon the arm of a balance (B) and the other arm is poised by a weight (W). This weight may be made of any convenient material. In the original apparatus a test-tube partially filled with mercury was used. The weight dips into one limb of a U-shaped glass tube (U), which contains mercury. Into the other limb of this tube the gas from the meter enters through a glass tube (G) which is held in position by a well-fitting cork. The internal aperture of the tube (G) is very oblique, and it rests just above the level of the mercury when the instrument is finally adjusted. This adjustment is better made in the morning when the gas pressure in the main is at its lowest. Just above the internal aperture of the tube (G), a lateral tube (L) passes out from the limb of the U and is connected with the inlet pipe (I) of the bell. If the gas pressure rises, the bell (B) is raised and the counter-poising weight (W) is proportionately lowered. This forces the mercury up in the other limb of the U-tube and consequently diminishes the size of the oblique orifice in the tube (G). Some of the gas is thus cut off and the pressure maintained constant. Should the pressure fall, the reverse processes occur, and more gas passes through the orifice of G and consequently to the burner by the outlet tube (O).

In R. A. Buddicom’s gas regulator (fig. 20), the inlet (I) and outlet (O) gas pipes connect to a metal bell (B), with the lower open end submerged in water that’s held in a metal tray (T). The bell is supported on the arm of a balance (B), and the other arm is balanced by a weight (W). This weight can be made from any suitable material. In the original setup, a test tube partially filled with mercury was used. The weight dips into one side of a U-shaped glass tube (U) that holds mercury. Gas from the meter enters the other side of this tube through a glass tube (G), which is kept in place by a well-fitted cork. The internal opening of the tube (G) is very slanted, and it sits just above the mercury level when the device is properly adjusted. It’s best to make this adjustment in the morning when the gas pressure in the main is at its lowest. Just above the internal opening of the tube (G), a lateral tube (L) extends from the limb of the U and connects to the inlet pipe (I) of the bell. If the gas pressure increases, the bell (B) rises and the counterbalancing weight (W) is lowered accordingly. This pushes the mercury higher in the other side of the U-tube, which reduces the size of the slanted opening in the tube (G). As a result, some of the gas is cut off, keeping the pressure steady. If the pressure goes down, the opposite happens, allowing more gas to flow through the opening of (G) and consequently into the burner via the outlet tube (O).

Fig. 21.—Moitessier’s Gas Regulator.

Moitessier’s regulator (fig. 21) is more complex, and needs more skilled work in its construction. It consists of an outer and closed cylinder (O), which is filled about half-way up with a mixture of acid-free glycerine and distilled water in the proportion of two to one respectively. Within the cylinder is a bell (B), the lower and open end of which dips under the glycerine-water mixture. From the top of the bell a vertical rod (R) passes up through an aperture in the cover of the outer cylinder, and supports the weighted dish (D). The inlet (I) and outlet (O) pipes enter the chamber of the bell above the level of the glycerine-water mixture. The outlet tube is a simple one; but the inlet tube is enlarged into a relatively capacious cylinder (C), and its upper end is fitted with a cover which is perforated by an aperture having a smooth surface and concave form. Into this aperture an accurately fitting ball- or socket-valve (V) fits. The ball-valve is supported by a suspension thread (T) from the roof of the bell (B). The apparatus should be adjusted in the morning when the pressure is low, and the dish (D) should be then so weighted that the full amount of gas passes through. The size of the flame should then be adjusted. Should the pressure increase, the bell (B) is raised and with it the ball-valve (V). The aperture in the cover of the inlet cylinder is consequently reduced and some of the gas cut off. When the pressure falls again, the ball-valve is lowered and more gas passes through. The relative pressure in the inlet and outlet pipes can be read off on the manometer (M) placed on each of these tubes.

Moitessier’s regulator (fig. 21) is more complex and requires more skilled craftsmanship to build. It consists of an outer closed cylinder (O), which is filled about halfway with a mixture of acid-free glycerine and distilled water in a ratio of two to one. Inside the cylinder is a bell (B), the lower open end of which dips into the glycerine-water mixture. A vertical rod (R) extends from the top of the bell through an opening in the cover of the outer cylinder, supporting the weighted dish (D). The inlet (I) and outlet (O) pipes enter the chamber of the bell above the level of the glycerine-water mixture. The outlet tube is straightforward, but the inlet tube expands into a relatively spacious cylinder (C), and its upper end is fitted with a cover that has a smooth, concave aperture. An accurately fitting ball- or socket-valve (V) fits into this aperture. The ball-valve is held up by a suspension thread (T) from the ceiling of the bell (B). The setup should be adjusted in the morning when the pressure is low, and the dish (D) should be weighted so that the maximum amount of gas can pass through. The flame size should then be adjusted. If the pressure increases, the bell (B) rises, lifting the ball-valve (V). This reduces the size of the opening in the cover of the inlet cylinder, cutting off some of the gas. When the pressure drops again, the ball-valve is lowered, allowing more gas to pass. The relative pressure in the inlet and outlet pipes can be read on the manometer (M) fitted to each of these tubes.

Levelling screws allow of the apparatus being horizontally adjusted. The friction engendered by the working of the vertical rod (R) through the aperture in the collar of the cylinder cover is reduced to a minimum by the rod being made to slide upwards or downwards on three vertical knife-edge ridges within the aperture of the collar.

Levelling screws enable the equipment to be adjusted horizontally. The friction created by the movement of the vertical rod (R) through the opening in the cylinder cover collar is minimized by allowing the rod to slide up or down on three vertical knife-edge ridges inside the collar's opening.

Authorities.—Charles A. Cyphers, Incubation and its Natural Laws (1776); J. H. Barlow, The Art and Method of Hatching and Rearing all Kinds of Domestic Poultry and Game Birds by Steam (London, 1827); and Daily Progress of the Chick in the Egg during Hatching in Steam Apparatus (London, 1824); Walthew, Artificial Incubation (London, 1824); William Bucknell, The Eccaleobin. A Treatise on Artificial Incubation, in 2 parts (published by the author, London, 1839); T. Christy, jun., Hydro-Incubation (London, 1877); L. Wright, The Book of Poultry (2nd ed. London, 1893); A. Forget, L’Aviculture et l’incubation artificielle (Paris, 1896); J. H. Sutcliffe, Incubators and their Management (Upcott Gill, London, 1896); H. H. Stoddard, The New Egg Farm (Orange Judd Co., New York, 1900); Edward Brown, Poultry Keeping as an Industry (5th ed., 1904); F. J. M. Page, “A Simple Form of Gas Regulator,” Journ. Chem. Soc. i. 24 (London, 1876); V. Babes, “Über einige Apparate zur Bacterienuntersuchung,” Centralblatt für Bacteriologie, iv. (1888); T. Hüppe, Methoden der Bacterienforschungen (Berlin, 1889). For further details of bacteriological incubators and accessories see catalogues of Gallenkamp, Baird & Tatlock, Hearson of London, and of the Cambridge Scientific Instrument Company, Cambridge; of P. Lequeux of Paris; and of F. & M. Lautenschläger of Berlin. That of Lequeux and of the Cambridge Company are particularly useful, as in many instances they give a scientific explanation of the principles upon which the construction of the various pieces of apparatus is based.

Authorities.—Charles A. Cyphers, Incubation and its Natural Laws (1776); J. H. Barlow, The Art and Method of Hatching and Rearing all Kinds of Domestic Poultry and Game Birds by Steam (London, 1827); and Daily Progress of the Chick in the Egg during Hatching in Steam Apparatus (London, 1824); Walthew, Artificial Incubation (London, 1824); William Bucknell, The Eccaleobin. A Treatise on Artificial Incubation, in 2 parts (published by the author, London, 1839); T. Christy, jun., Hydro-Incubation (London, 1877); L. Wright, The Book of Poultry (2nd ed. London, 1893); A. Forget, L’Aviculture et l’incubation artificielle (Paris, 1896); J. H. Sutcliffe, Incubators and their Management (Upcott Gill, London, 1896); H. H. Stoddard, The New Egg Farm (Orange Judd Co., New York, 1900); Edward Brown, Poultry Keeping as an Industry (5th ed., 1904); F. J. M. Page, “A Simple Form of Gas Regulator,” Journ. Chem. Soc. i. 24 (London, 1876); V. Babes, “Über einige Apparate zur Bacterienuntersuchung,” Centralblatt für Bacteriologie, iv. (1888); T. Hüppe, Methoden der Bacterienforschungen (Berlin, 1889). For more information on bacteriological incubators and accessories, see the catalogs from Gallenkamp, Baird & Tatlock, Hearson of London, and the Cambridge Scientific Instrument Company, Cambridge; P. Lequeux of Paris; and F. & M. Lautenschläger of Berlin. The catalogs from Lequeux and the Cambridge Company are particularly helpful as they often provide scientific explanations of the principles behind the design of the various pieces of equipment.

(G. P. M.)

INCUBUS (a Late Latin form of the classical incubo, a night-mare, from incubare, to lie upon, weigh down, brood), the name given in the middle ages to a male demon which was supposed to haunt women in their sleep, and to whose visits the birth of witches and demons was attributed. The female counterparts of these demons were called succubae. The word is also applied generally to an oppressive thing or person.

INCUBUS (a Late Latin version of the classical incubo, meaning nightmare, from incubare, to lie on, weigh down, brood), is the name given in the Middle Ages to a male demon believed to visit women in their sleep, and to whom the births of witches and demons were attributed. The female equivalents of these demons were called succubae. The term is also used more generally to describe something or someone oppressive.


INCUMBENT (from Lat. incumbere, to lean, lie upon), a general term for the holder (rector, vicar, curate in charge) of an ecclesiastical benefice (see Benefice). In Scotland the title is generally confined to clergy of the Episcopal Church. The word in this application is peculiar to English. Du Cange (Glossarium, s.v. “Incumbens”) says that the Jurisconsulti use incumbere in the sense of obtinere, possidere, but the sense may be transferred from the general one of that which rests or is laid on one as a duty which is also found in post-classical Latin; to be “diligently resident” in a parish or benefice, has also been suggested as the source of the meaning.

INCUMBENT (from Lat. incumbere, to lean, lie upon), a general term for the holder (rector, vicar, curate in charge) of an ecclesiastical benefice (see Benefice). In Scotland, this title usually refers specifically to clergy of the Episcopal Church. This usage is unique to English. Du Cange (Glossarium, s.v. “Incumbens”) notes that the Jurisconsulti use incumbere in the sense of obtinere, possidere, but the meaning may stem from the general notion of something that rests or is imposed as a duty, which also appears in post-classical Latin; being “diligently resident” in a parish or benefice has been suggested as the origin of this meaning.


INCUNABULA, a Latin neuter-plural meaning “swaddling-clothes,” a “cradle,” “birthplace,” and so the beginning of anything, now curiously specialized to denote books printed in the 15th century. Its use in this sense may have originated with the title of the first separately published list of 15th-century books, Cornelius a Beughem’s Incunabula typographiae (Amsterdam, 1688). The word is generally recognized all over Europe and has produced vernacular forms such as the French incunables, German Inkunabeln (Wiegendrucke), Italian incunaboli, though the anglicized incunables is not yet fully accepted. If its original meaning had been regarded the application of the word would have been confined to books printed before a much earlier date, such as 1475, or to the first few printed in any country or town. By the end of the 15th century book-production in the great centres of the trade, such as Venice, Lyons, Paris and Cologne, had already lost much of its primitive character, and in many countries there is no natural halting-place between 1490 and 1520 or later. The attractions of a round date have prevailed, however, over these considerations, and the year 1500 is taken as a halting-place, or more often a terminus, in all the chief works devoted to the registration and description of early printed books. The most important of these are (i.) Panzer’s Annales typographici ab artis inventae origine ad annum MD., printed in five volumes at Nuremberg in 1793 and subsequently in 1803 carried on to 1536 by six additional volumes; (ii.) Ham’s Repertorium bibliographicum in quo libri omnes ab arte typographica inventa usque ad annum MD. typis expressi ordine alphabetico vel simpliciter enumerantur vel adcuratius, recensentur (Stuttgart, 1826-1838). In Panzer’s Annales the first principle of division is that of the alphabetical order of the Latin names of towns in which incunabula were printed, the books being arranged under the towns by the years of publication. In Hain’s Repertorium the books are arranged under their authors’ names, and it was only in 1891 that an index of printers was added by Dr Konrad Burger. In 1898 Robert Proctor published an Index to the Early Printed Books in the British Museum: from the invention of printing to the year MD., with notes of those in the Bodleian Library. In this work the books were arranged as far as possible chronologically under their printers, the printers chronologically under the towns in which they worked, and the towns and countries chronologically in the order in which printing was introduced into them, the total number of books registered being nearly ten thousand. Between 1898 and 1902 Dr W. Copinger published a Supplement to Hain’s Repertorium, described as a collection towards a new edition of that work, adding some seven thousand new entries to the sixteen thousand editions enumerated by Hain. From the total of about twenty-three thousand incunabula thus registered considerable deductions must be made for duplicate entries and undated editions which probably 370 belong to the 16th century. On the other hand Dr Copinger’s Supplement had hardly appeared before additional lists began to be issued registering books unknown both to him and to Hain, and the new Repertorium, begun in 1905, under the auspices of the German government, seemed likely to register, on its completion, not fewer than thirty thousand different incunabula as extant either in complete copies or fragments.

INCUNABULA, is a Latin neuter plural term meaning “swaddling-clothes,” a “cradle,” or “birthplace,” representing the beginning of anything, but it has now become specifically associated with books printed in the 15th century. This usage may have started with the title of the first separate list of 15th-century books, Cornelius a Beughem’s Incunabula typographiae (Amsterdam, 1688). The term is recognized throughout Europe and has led to vernacular versions like the French incunables, German Inkunabeln (Wiegendrucke), and Italian incunaboli, although the anglicized incunables has not yet gained full acceptance. If the original meaning had been upheld, the term would have only referred to books printed before an earlier date, such as 1475, or to the first few printed in any given country or town. By the end of the 15th century, book production in major trade centers like Venice, Lyons, Paris, and Cologne had already lost much of its original character, and in many countries, there isn’t a natural stopping point between 1490 and 1520 or later. Despite this, the convenience of a round date has dominated, and 1500 is commonly used as a cutoff or more frequently a terminus in significant works dedicated to the cataloging and description of early printed books. The most significant of these are (i.) Panzer’s Annales typographici ab artis inventae origine ad annum MD., published in five volumes in Nuremberg in 1793, which was later extended to 1536 over six additional volumes in 1803; (ii.) Ham’s Repertorium bibliographicum in quo libri omnes ab arte typographica inventa usque ad annum MD. typis expressi ordine alphabetico vel simpliciter enumerantur vel adcuratius, recensentur (Stuttgart, 1826-1838). In Panzer’s Annales, books are categorized alphabetically by the Latin names of the towns where they were printed, arranged by publication year. In Hain’s Repertorium, books are categorized by their authors' names, and an index of printers was only added by Dr. Konrad Burger in 1891. In 1898, Robert Proctor published an Index to the Early Printed Books in the British Museum: from the invention of printing to the year MD., with notes of those in the Bodleian Library. This index arranged books chronologically by their printers, with the printers ordered chronologically by the towns where they worked, and the towns and countries also chronologically according to when printing was introduced into them, totaling nearly ten thousand registered books. Between 1898 and 1902, Dr. W. Copinger released a Supplement to Hain’s Repertorium, which served as a collection for a new edition of that work, adding around seven thousand new entries to the sixteen thousand editions already noted by Hain. From the estimated total of about twenty-three thousand noted incunabula, significant reductions must be made for duplicate entries and undated editions that likely belong to the 16th century. Meanwhile, Dr. Copinger’s Supplement was barely published when additional lists started to appear, registering books that were unknown both to him and to Hain. The new Repertorium, started in 1905 with the support of the German government, appeared likely to document at least thirty thousand different incunabula that exist either in complete copies or fragments.

In any attempt to estimate the extent to which the incunabula still in existence represent the total output of the 15th-century presses, a sharp distinction must be drawn between the weightier and the more ephemeral literature. Owing to the great religious and intellectual upheaval in the 16th century much of the literature previously current went out of date, while the cumbrous early editions of books still read were superseded by handier ones. Before this happened the heavier works had found their way into countless libraries and here they reposed peacefully, only sharing the fate of the libraries themselves when these were pillaged, or by a happier fortune amalgamated with other collections in a larger library. The considerable number of copies of many books for whose preservation no special reason can be found encourages a belief that the proportion of serious works now completely lost is not very high, except in the case of books of devotion whose honourable destiny was to be worn to pieces by devout fingers. On the other hand, of the lighter literature in book-form, the cheap romances and catchpenny literature of all kinds, the destruction has been very great. Most of the broadsides and single sheets generally which have escaped have done so only by virtue of the 16th-century custom of using waste of this kind as a substitute for wooden boards to stiffen bindings. Excluding these broadsides, &c., the total output of the 15th-century presses in book form is not likely to have exceeded forty thousand editions. As to the size of the editions we know that the earliest printers at Rome favoured 225 copies, those at Venice 300. By the end of the century these numbers had increased, but the soft metal in use then for types probably wore badly enough to keep down the size of editions, and an average of 500 copies, giving a possible total of twenty million books put on the European market during the 15th century is probably as near an estimate as can be made.

In any effort to estimate how much the surviving incunabula represents the overall output of 15th-century printing presses, it's important to differentiate between the more substantial and the lighter literature. Due to the significant religious and intellectual upheaval in the 16th century, much of the literature that was once popular became outdated, while the bulky early editions of still-read books were replaced by more convenient versions. Before this shift occurred, the heavier works found their way into countless libraries, where they remained undisturbed, only facing the same fate as the libraries themselves when they were looted, or sometimes happily merged with other collections in larger libraries. The considerable number of copies of many books, which seem to have no special reason for preservation, suggests that the percentage of serious works that are now completely lost is relatively low, except for devotional books, which were naturally worn to pieces by devoted readers. Conversely, the lighter literature in book form, including inexpensive romances and all sorts of quick-sale literature, has faced significant destruction. Most of the broadsides and single sheets that have survived have done so primarily because of the 16th-century practice of using this kind of waste as a substitute for wooden boards to reinforce bindings. Excluding these broadsides, the total output of 15th-century presses in book form likely did not exceed forty thousand editions. Regarding the size of the editions, we know that early printers in Rome preferred 225 copies, while those in Venice printed 300. By the end of the century, these numbers had increased, but the soft metal used for types likely wore down enough to limit edition sizes, suggesting an average of 500 copies and a possible total of around twenty million books released in the European market during the 15th century is probably the most accurate estimate that can be made.

Very many incunabula contain no information as to when, where or by whom they were printed, but the individuality of most of the early types as compared with modern ones has enabled typographical detectives (of whom Robert Proctor, who died in 1903, was by far the greatest) to track most of them down. To facilitate this work many volumes of facsimiles have been published, the most important being K. Burger’s Monumenta Germaniae et Italiae Typographica (1892, &c.), J. W. Holtrop’s Monuments typographiques des Pays-Bas (1868), O. Thierry-Poux’s Premiers monuments de l’imprimerie en France au XVe siècle (1890), K. Haebler’s Typographie ibérique du quinzième siècle (1901) and Gordon Duff’s Early English Printing (1896), the publications of the Type Facsimile Society (1700, &c.) and the Woolley Facsimiles, a collection of five hundred photographs, privately printed.

Many early printed books, known as incunabula, don't provide details about when, where, or by whom they were printed. However, the distinctiveness of most early typefaces compared to modern ones has allowed typographical detectives, notably Robert Proctor, who passed away in 1903 and was the most prominent among them, to identify most of these works. To support this research, numerous facsimile volumes have been published, with key examples including K. Burger’s Monumenta Germaniae et Italiae Typographica (1892, etc.), J. W. Holtrop’s Monuments typographiques des Pays-Bas (1868), O. Thierry-Poux’s Premiers monuments de l’imprimerie en France au XVe siècle (1890), K. Haebler’s Typographie ibérique du quinzième siècle (1901), and Gordon Duff’s Early English Printing (1896), along with the publications from the Type Facsimile Society (1700, etc.) and the Woolley Facsimiles, a collection of five hundred privately printed photographs.

In his Index to the Early Printed Books at the British Museum Proctor enumerated and described all the known types used by each printer, and his descriptions have been usefully extended and made more precise by Dr Haebler in his Typenrepertorium der Wiegendrucke (1905, &c.). With the aid of these descriptions and of the facsimiles already mentioned it is usually possible to assign a newly discovered book with some certainty to the press from which it was issued and often to specify within a few weeks, or even days, the date at which it was finished.

In his Index to the Early Printed Books at the British Museum, Proctor listed and described all the known types used by each printer, and Dr. Haebler has significantly refined and clarified his descriptions in Typenrepertorium der Wiegendrucke (1905, &c.). With the help of these descriptions and the previously mentioned facsimiles, it's usually possible to confidently attribute a newly discovered book to the press that produced it and often specify the date it was completed down to just a few weeks, or even days.

As a result of these researches it is literally true that the output of the 15th-century presses (excluding the ephemeral publications which have very largely disappeared) is better known to students than that of any other period. Of original literature of any importance the half-century 1450-1500 was singularly barren, and the zeal with which 15th-century books have been collected and studied has been criticized as excessive and misplaced. No doubt the minuteness with which it is possible to make an old book yield up its secrets has encouraged students to pursue the game for its own sake without any great consideration of practical utility, but the materials which have thus been made available for the student of European culture are far from insignificant. The competition among the 15th-century printers was very great and they clearly sent to press every book for which they could hope for a sale, undaunted by its bulk. Thus the great medieval encyclopaedia, the Specula (Speculum naturale, Speculum historiale, Speculum morale, Speculum doctrinale) of Vincent de Beauvais went through two editions at Strassburg and found publishers and translators elsewhere, although it must have represented an outlay from which many modern firms would shrink. It would almost seem, indeed, as if some publishers specially affected very bulky works which, while they remained famous, had grown scarce because the scribes were afraid to attempt them. Hence, more especially in Germany, it was not merely the output of a single generation which came to the press before 1500, but the whole of the medieval literature which remained alive, i.e. retained a reputation sufficient to attract buyers. A study of lists of incunabula enables a student to see just what works this included, and the degree of their popularity. On the other hand in Italy the influence of the classical renaissance is reflected in the enormous output of Latin classics, and the progress of Greek studies can be traced in the displacement of Latin translations by editions of the originals. The part which each country and city played in the struggle between the old ideals and the new can be determined in extraordinary detail by a study of the output of its presses, although some allowance must be made for the extent to which books were transported along the great trade routes. Thus the fact that the Venetian output nearly equalled that of the whole of the rest of Italy was no doubt mainly due to its export trade. Venetian books penetrated everywhere, and the skill of Venetian printers in liturgical books procured them commissions to print whole editions for the English market. From the almost complete absence of scholarly books in the lists of English Incunabula it would be too much to conclude that there was no demand for such books in England. The demand existed and was met by importation, which a statute of Richard III.’s expressly facilitated. But that it was not commercially possible for a scholarly press to be worked in England, and that no man of means was ready to finance one, tells its own tale. The total number of incunabula printed in England was probably upwards of four hundred, of which Caxton produced fully one-fourth. Of the ten thousand different incunabula which the British Museum and Bodleian library possess between them, about 4100 are Italian, 3400 German, 1000 French, 700 from the Netherlands, 400 from Switzerland, 150 from Spain and Portugal, 50 from other parts of the continent of Europe and 200 English, the proportion of these last being about doubled by the special zeal with which they have been collected. The celebration in 1640 of the second centenary (as it was considered) of the invention of printing may be taken as the date from which incunabula began to be collected for their own sake, apart from their literary interest, and the publication of Beughem’s Incunabula typographiae in 1688 marks the increased attention paid to them. But up to the end of the 17th century Caxtons could still be bought for a few shillings. The third centenary of the invention of printing in 1740 again stimulated enthusiasm, and by the end of the 18th century the really early books were eagerly competed for. Interest in books of the last ten or fifteen years of the century is a much more modern development, but with the considerable literature which has grown up round the subject is not likely to be easily checked.

Due to these studies, it's literally true that the output of 15th-century printing presses (excluding the short-lived publications that have mostly disappeared) is better known to students than that of any other time period. The half-century from 1450 to 1500 produced very little significant original literature, and the enthusiasm for collecting and studying 15th-century books has been criticized as excessive and misplaced. It's true that the fine details that can be uncovered from old books have encouraged students to engage in this pursuit for its own sake, without much regard for practical usefulness, but the resources made available for the study of European culture are far from insignificant. There was intense competition among 15th-century printers, and they clearly printed every book they believed would sell, regardless of its size. For instance, the vast medieval encyclopedia, the Specula (Speculum naturale, Speculum historiale, Speculum morale, Speculum doctrinale) by Vincent de Beauvais went through two editions in Strassburg and found publishers and translators in other places, even though it must have required an investment many modern companies would find daunting. It almost seems like some publishers specifically favored very large works that, while they remained well-known, had become rare because scribes were hesitant to try to copy them. Thus, especially in Germany, it wasn't just the output of a single generation that was printed before 1500, but the entire body of medieval literature that was still recognized and deemed significant enough to attract buyers. By examining lists of incunabula, a student can gain insight into which works were included and how popular they were. In contrast, in Italy, the influence of the classical renaissance is evident in the extensive production of Latin classics, and the advancement of Greek studies is apparent in the shift from Latin translations to editions of the originals. The role that each country and city played in the conflict between old ideals and new can be examined in remarkable detail through the output of its printing presses, though it’s important to consider how much books were transported along major trade routes. As a result, the fact that the output from Venice nearly matched that of the whole of the rest of Italy is likely largely due to its export trade. Venetian books spread everywhere, and the expertise of Venetian printers in liturgical texts won them contracts to print entire editions for the English market. The almost complete lack of scholarly books in English incunabula lists would be misleading if one were to conclude there was no demand for such books in England. Demand existed and was satisfied through imports, aided by a statute from Richard III. However, the inability to sustain a scholarly press in England and the unwillingness of any wealthy individual to fund one tells a story of its own. The total number of incunabula printed in England was likely over four hundred, with Caxton responsible for about a fourth of that. Of the ten thousand different incunabula held by the British Museum and Bodleian library, around 4100 are Italian, 3400 German, 1000 French, 700 from the Netherlands, 400 from Switzerland, 150 from Spain and Portugal, 50 from elsewhere in Europe, and 200 English; the proportion of the last is roughly doubled by the dedicated effort to collect them. The celebration in 1640 of what was considered the second centenary of the invention of printing can be seen as the moment when incunabula began to be collected for their own value, separate from their literary significance, and the publication of Beughem’s Incunabula typographiae in 1688 marked a growing interest in them. However, even by the end of the 17th century, Caxtons could still be purchased for just a few shillings. The third centenary of the invention of printing in 1740 rekindled excitement, and by the end of the 18th century, there was fierce competition for truly early books. Interest in books from the last ten to fifteen years of the century is a much more recent phenomenon, yet the considerable literature that has emerged around the topic suggests it’s unlikely to fade easily.

The chief collections of incunabula are those of the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, Royal library, Munich, and British Museum, London, the number of separate editions in each library exceeding nine thousand, with numerous duplicates. The number of separate editions at the Bodleian library is about five thousand. Other important collections are at the University library, Cambridge, and the John Rylands library, Manchester, the latter being based on the famous Althorp library formed by Earl Spencer (see Book-Collecting).

The main collections of incunabula are found at the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, the Royal Library in Munich, and the British Museum in London, each with over nine thousand individual editions, along with many duplicates. The Bodleian Library has about five thousand separate editions. Other significant collections are at the University Library in Cambridge and the John Rylands Library in Manchester, the latter built upon the famous Althorp Library created by Earl Spencer (see Book-Collecting).

(A. W. Po.)

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INDABA, a Zulu-Bantu word, formed from the inflexional prefix in and daba, business, news, for an important conference held by the “indunas” or principal men of the Kaffir (Zulu-Xosa) tribes of South Africa. Such “indabas” may include only the “indunas” of a particular tribe, or may be held with the representatives of other tribes or peoples.

INDABA, is a Zulu-Bantu word, made up of the prefix in and daba, meaning business or news. It refers to an important conference organized by the “indunas,” or leaders, of the Kaffir (Zulu-Xhosa) tribes in South Africa. These “indabas” can involve just the “indunas” from a specific tribe or can include representatives from other tribes or groups.


INDAZOLES (Benzopyrazoles), organic substances containing the ring system The parent substance indazole, C7H6N2, was obtained by E. Fischer (Ann. 1883, 221, p. 280) by heating ortho-hydrazine cinnamic acid,

INDAZOLES (Benzopyrazoles), organic compounds that feature the ring structure The main compound, indazole, C7H6N2, was discovered by E. Fischer (Ann. 1883, 221, p. 280) through the process of heating ortho-hydrazine cinnamic acid,

It has also been obtained by heating ortho-diazoaminotoluene with acetic acid and benzene (F. Heusler, Ber., 1891, 24, p. 4161).

It has also been obtained by heating ortho-diazoaminotoluene with acetic acid and benzene (F. Heusler, Ber., 1891, 24, p. 4161).

It crystallizes in needles (from hot water), which melt at 146.5° C. and boil at 269°-270° C. It is readily soluble in hot water, alcohol and dilute hydrochloric acid. Nitrous acid converts it into nitrosoindazole; whilst on heating with the alkyl iodides it is converted into alkyl indazoles.

It forms needle-like crystals in hot water, melting at 146.5°C and boiling at 269°-270°C. It's easily soluble in hot water, alcohol, and dilute hydrochloric acid. Nitrous acid transforms it into nitrosoindazole, while heating it with alkyl iodides turns it into alkyl indazoles.

A series of compounds isomeric with these alkyl derivatives is known, and can be considered as derived from the ring system These isomers are called isindazoles, and may be prepared by the reduction of the nitroso-ortho-alkylamino-acetophenones with zinc dust and water or acetic acid. The indazoles are weak bases, which crystallize readily. Phenyl indazole, on reduction with sodium and absolute alcohol, gives a dihydro derivative (K. L. Paal, Ber., 1891, 24, p. 963).

A series of compounds that are isomers of these alkyl derivatives is known and can be considered as derived from the ring system These isomers are called isindazoles, and can be made by reducing the nitroso-ortho-alkylamino-acetophenones with zinc dust and water or acetic acid. The indazoles are weak bases that crystallize easily. When phenyl indazole is reduced with sodium and absolute alcohol, it produces a dihydro derivative (K. L. Paal, Ber., 1891, 24, p. 963).

For other derivatives, see E. Fischer and J. Tafel, Ann. 1885, 227, p. 314.

For other derivatives, see E. Fischer and J. Tafel, Ann. 1885, 227, p. 314.


INDEMNITY (through Fr. indemnité, Lat. indemnis, free from damage or loss; in-, negative, and damnum, loss), in law, an undertaking, either express or implied, to compensate another for loss or damage, or for trouble or expense incurred; also the sum so paid (see Contract; and Insurance: Marine). An act of indemnity is a statute passed for the purpose either of relieving persons from disabilities and penalties to which they have rendered themselves liable or to make legal transactions which, when they took place, were illegal. An act or bill of indemnity used to be passed every session by the English parliament for the relief of those who had unwittingly neglected to qualify themselves in certain respects for the holding of offices, &c., as, for example, justices, without taking the necessary oaths. The Promissory Oaths Act 1868 rendered this unnecessary.

INDEMNITY (from Fr. indemnité, Lat. indemnis, meaning free from damage or loss; in-, negative, and damnum, loss), in law, is a commitment, either stated or implied, to compensate someone for loss or damage, or for trouble or costs incurred; it also refers to the amount paid (see Contract; and Insurance: Marine). An act of indemnity is a law created to either exempt individuals from responsibilities and penalties they have made themselves subject to or to legitimize transactions that were illegal at the time they occurred. The English Parliament used to pass an act or bill of indemnity in every session to release those who had unknowingly failed to meet certain qualifications for holding positions, such as justices, without taking the required oaths. The Promissory Oaths Act 1868 made this unnecessary.


INDENE, C9H8, a hydrocarbon found in the fraction of the coal tar distillate boiling between 176° and 182° C., and from which it may be extracted by means of its picrate (G. Kramer, A. Spilker, Ber., 1890, 23, p. 3276). It may also be obtained by distilling the calcium salt of hydrindene carboxylic acid, C6H4(CH2)2·CH·COOH. It is an oil which boils at 179.5°-180.5°, and has a specific gravity 1.04 (15° C.). Dilute nitric acid oxidizes it to phthalic acid, and sodium reduces it in alcoholic solution to hydrindene, C9H10. A. v. Baeyer and W. H. Perkin (Ber., 1884, 17, p. 125) by the action of sodiomalonic ester on ortho-xylylene bromide obtained a hydrindene dicarboxylic ester,

INDENE, C9H8, is a hydrocarbon found in the coal tar distillate that boils between 176° and 182° C. It can be extracted using its picrate (G. Kramer, A. Spilker, Ber., 1890, 23, p. 3276). Additionally, it can be obtained by distilling the calcium salt of hydrindene carboxylic acid, C6H4(CH2)2·CH·COOH. This compound is an oil that boils at 179.5°-180.5° and has a specific gravity of 1.04 (15° C.). When treated with dilute nitric acid, it oxidizes to phthalic acid, and sodium reduces it in alcoholic solution to hydrindene, C9H10. A. v. Baeyer and W. H. Perkin (Ber., 1884, 17, p. 125) obtained a hydrindene dicarboxylic ester through the reaction of sodiomalonic ester with ortho-xylylene bromide.

C6H4(CH2Br)2 + 2CHNa(CO2C2H5)2 = 2NaBr + CH2(CO2C2H5)2 + C6H4:[CH2]2:C(CO2C2H5)2;

C6H4(CH2Br)2 + 2CHNa(CO2C2H5)2 = 2NaBr + CH2(CO2C2H5)2 + C6H4:[CH2]2:C(CO2C2H5)2;

this ester on hydrolysis yields the corresponding acid, which on heating loses carbon dioxide and gives the monocarboxylic acid of hydrindene. The barium salt of this acid, when heated, yields indene and not hydrindene, hydrogen being liberated (W. H. Perkin, Jour. Chem. Soc., 1894, 65, p. 228). Indene vapour when passed through a red hot tube yields chrysene. It combines with nitrosyl chloride to form indene nitrosate (M. Dennstedt and C. Ahrens, Ber., 1895, 28, p. 1331) and it reacts with benzaldehyde, oxalic ester and formic ester (J. Thiele, Ber., 1900, 33, p. 3395).

this ester, when hydrolyzed, produces the corresponding acid, which, upon heating, releases carbon dioxide and results in the monocarboxylic acid of hydrindene. The barium salt of this acid, when heated, produces indene instead of hydrindene, with hydrogen being released (W. H. Perkin, Jour. Chem. Soc., 1894, 65, p. 228). Indene vapor, when passed through a red-hot tube, generates chrysene. It reacts with nitrosyl chloride to create indene nitrosate (M. Dennstedt and C. Ahrens, Ber., 1895, 28, p. 1331) and interacts with benzaldehyde, oxalic ester, and formic ester (J. Thiele, Ber., 1900, 33, p. 3395).

On the derivatives of indene see W. v. Miller, Ber., 1890, 23, p. 1883; Th. Zincke, Ber., 1887, 20, p. 2394, 1886, 19, p. 2493; and W. Roser and E. Haselhoff, Ann., 1888, 247, p. 140.

On the derivatives of indene, see W. v. Miller, Ber., 1890, 23, p. 1883; Th. Zincke, Ber., 1887, 20, p. 2394, 1886, 19, p. 2493; and W. Roser and E. Haselhoff, Ann., 1888, 247, p. 140.


INDENTURE (through O. Fr. endenture from a legal Latin term indentura, indentare, to cut into teeth, to give a jagged edge, in modum dentium, like teeth), a law term for a special form of deed executed between two or more parties, and having counterparts or copies equal to the number of parties. These copies were all drawn on one piece of vellum or paper divided by a toothed or “indented” line. The copies when separated along this waved line could then be identified as “tallies” when brought together. Deeds executed by one party only had a smooth or “polled” edge, whence the name “deed poll.” By the Real Property Act 1845, § 5, all deeds purporting to be “indentures” have the effect of an “indenture,” even though the indented line be absent. The name “chirograph” (Gr. χεὶρ, hand, γράφειν, to write) was also early applied to such a form of deed, and the word itself was often written along the indented line (see further Deed and Diplomatic). The term “indenture” is now used generally of any sealed agreement between two or more parties, and specifically of a contract of apprenticeship, whence the phrase “to take up one’s indentures,” on completion of the term, and also of a contract by labourers to serve in a foreign country or colony (see Coolie).

INDENTURE (derived from Old French endenture and the legal Latin term indentura, indentare, meaning to cut into teeth or create a jagged edge, as in modum dentium, like teeth), refers to a legal term for a specific type of deed executed between two or more parties, with copies or counterparts equal to the number of parties involved. These copies were all created on one piece of vellum or paper that was divided by a toothed or "indented" line. When the copies were separated along this wavy line, they could be recognized as "tallies" when brought together. Deeds executed by only one party had a smooth or "polled" edge, which is where the name "deed poll" comes from. According to the Real Property Act 1845, § 5, all deeds that are described as "indentures" have the same effect as an "indenture," even if the indented line is missing. The term "chirograph" (Greek hand, meaning hand, and write, meaning to write) was also used early on for this type of deed, and the word itself was often written along the indented line (see further Deed and Diplomatic). Today, the term "indenture" generally refers to any sealed agreement between two or more parties, and specifically to an apprenticeship contract, leading to the phrase "to take up one’s indentures," upon completion of the term, as well as to a contract for laborers to work in a foreign country or colony (see Coolie).


INDEPENDENCE, a city and the county-seat of Jackson county, Missouri, U.S.A., 3 m. S. of the Missouri river and 10 m. E. of Kansas City. Pop. (1890) 6380, (1900) 6974 (937 negroes); (1910) 9859. The city is served by the Missouri Pacific, the Chicago & Alton, and the Kansas City Southern railways, and by an electric line and fine boulevard to Kansas City. It is situated about 1000 ft. above the sea, and is surrounded by a fertile agricultural district. The city has a small public square (surrounding the court-house) and a public library, and is the seat of St Mary’s Academy, under the control of the Sisters of Mercy. Among its manufactures are farming implements, flour and lumber. The municipality owns its electric lighting plant. Independence was laid out as a town and chosen as the county-seat in 1827, first chartered as a city in 1849 and made a city of the third-class in 1889. About 1500 Mormons, attracted by the “revelation” that this was to be a Zion, settled in and about Independence in 1831 and 1832. They contemplated building their chief temple about ½ m. W. of the site of the present court house, but in 1833 (partly because they invited free negroes to join them) were expelled by the “gentile” inhabitants of Independence. In 1867 a settlement of about 150 Hedrickites, or members of the “Church of Jesus Christ” (organized in Illinois in 1835), came here and secretly bought up parts of the “Temple Lot.” The heirs of the settlers of 1831-1832 conveyed the lot by deed to the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (with headquarters at Lamoni, Iowa), which brought suit against the Hedrickites, but in 1894 the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals decided the case on the ground of laches in favour of the Hedrickites, who fifteen years afterwards had nearly died out. In 1867-1869 a few families belonging to the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (monogamists) settled in Independence, and in 1908 their church here had about 2000 members. Besides a large church building, they have here a printing establishment, from which is issued the weekly Zion’s Ensign (founded in 1891), and the “Independence Sanitarium” (completed in 1908). The faithful Mormons still look to Independence as the Zion of the church. In 1907 a number of Mormons from Utah settled here, moving the headquarters of the “Central States’ Mission” from Kansas City to Independence, and founded a periodical called Liahona, the Elder’s Journal. From about 1831 to 1844, when its river landing was destroyed by flood, Independence was the headquarters and outfitting point of the extensive caravan trains for the Santa Fé, Oregon and Old Salt Lake trails. During the Civil War about 300 Federals under Lieut.-Colonel D. H. Buel, occupying the town, were captured on the 16th of August 1862 by Colonel Hughes in command of 1500 Confederates, and on the 22nd of October 1864 a part of General Sterling Price’s 372 Confederate army was defeated a few miles E. of Independence by General Alfred Pleasonton.

INDEPENDENCE, is a city and the county seat of Jackson County, Missouri, U.S.A., located 3 miles south of the Missouri River and 10 miles east of Kansas City. The population was 6,380 in 1890, 6,974 in 1900 (including 937 African Americans), and 9,859 in 1910. The city is connected by the Missouri Pacific, Chicago & Alton, and Kansas City Southern railways, as well as an electric line and a nice boulevard to Kansas City. It sits about 1,000 feet above sea level and is surrounded by rich farmland. The city features a small public square around the courthouse and has a public library; it is also home to St. Mary’s Academy, run by the Sisters of Mercy. Among its products are farm equipment, flour, and lumber. The city owns its electric lighting plant. Independence was established as a town and chosen as the county seat in 1827, first received its city charter in 1849, and became a third-class city in 1889. Around 1,500 Mormons, drawn by the belief that this was to be Zion, settled in and around Independence in 1831 and 1832. They planned to build their main temple about half a mile west of the current courthouse site, but in 1833, partly because they welcomed free Black people into their community, they were expelled by the non-Mormon residents. In 1867, about 150 members of the Hedrickites, or the “Church of Jesus Christ” (established in Illinois in 1835), arrived and secretly purchased parts of the “Temple Lot.” The heirs of the settlers from 1831-1832 transferred the lot through a deed to the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (based in Lamoni, Iowa), which sued the Hedrickites. However, in 1894, the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals ruled in favor of the Hedrickites based on a claim of laches, despite the fact that they had nearly dwindled in number fifteen years later. Between 1867 and 1869, a few families from the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (monogamists) settled in Independence, and by 1908, their congregation here had about 2,000 members. In addition to a large church building, they established a printing press that publishes the weekly Zion’s Ensign (founded in 1891) and the “Independence Sanitarium” (completed in 1908). The devoted Mormons still regard Independence as the Zion of their church. In 1907, several Mormons from Utah settled here, relocating the headquarters of the “Central States’ Mission” from Kansas City to Independence, and launched a publication called Liahona, the Elder’s Journal. From around 1831 to 1844, until its river landing was destroyed by flooding, Independence served as the headquarters and starting point for numerous caravan trains heading to Santa Fé, Oregon, and Old Salt Lake trails. During the Civil War, about 300 Federal soldiers under Lieutenant Colonel D. H. Buel, who were occupying the town, were captured on August 16, 1862, by Colonel Hughes leading 1,500 Confederates. Additionally, on October 22, 1864, part of General Sterling Price’s Confederate army was defeated just a few miles east of Independence by General Alfred Pleasonton.



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