a, was retained even in the
Attic dialect, and the epithet " Aeolian Smyrna " remained long
after the conquest. The situation of Smyrna 'on the path of
commerce between Lydia and the west raised it during the 7th
century to the height of power and splendour. It lay at the head
of an arm of the sea, which reached far inland and admitted the
Greek trading ships into the heart of Lydia. One of the great
trade routes which cross Anatolia descends the Hermus valley past
Sardis, and then diverging from the valley passes S. of Mt
Sipylus and crosses a low pass into the little valley, about 7 m.
long and 2 broad, where Smyrna lies between the mountains and
the sea. Miletus, and later Ephesus, situated at the sea end of
the other great trade route across Anatolia, competed for a time
successfully with Smyrna, but both cities long ago lost their
harbours and Smyrna remains without a rival.
When the Mermnad kings raised the Lydian power and
aggressiveness Smyrna was one of the first points of attack.
Gyges (c. 687-652) was, however, defeated on the banks of the
Hermus; the situation of the battlefield shows that the power
of Smyrna extended far to the E., and probably included the
valley of Nymphi (Nif). A strong fortress, the ruins of whose
ancient and massive walls are still imposing, on a hill in the pass
between Smyrna and Nymphi, was probably built by the Smyr-
naean lonians to command the valley of Nymphi. According to
Theognis (about 500 B.C.), " pride destroyed Smyrna." Mimner-
mus laments the degeneracy of the citizens of his day, who could
no longer stem the Lydian advance. Finally, Alyattes III.
(600-560) conquered the city, and Smyrna for 300 years lost its
place in the list of Greek cities. It did not cease to exist, but the
Greek life and political unity were destroyed, and the Smyrnaean
state was organized on the village system (cjkeTro Kw/jiridov) .
It is mentioned in a fragment of Pindar, about 500 B.C., and in an
inscription of 388 B.C. A small fortification of early style,
rudely but massively built, on the lowest slope of a hill N. of
Burnabat, is perhaps a fortified village of this period. Alexander
the Great conceived the idea of restoring the Greek city; the
two Nemeses who were worshipped at Smyrna are said to have
suggested the idea to him in a dream. The scheme was, according
to Strabo, carried out by Antigonus (316-301), and Lysimachus
enlarged and fortified the city (301-281). The acropolis of the
ancient city had been on a steep peak about 1250 ft. high, which
overhangs the N.E. extremity of the gulf; its ruins still exist,
probably in much the same condition as they were left by
Alyattes. The later city was founded on the modern site partly
on the slopes of a rounded hill called Pagus near the S.E. end of
the gulf, partly on the low ground between the hill and the sea.
The beauty of the city, clustering on the low ground and rising
tier over tier on the hillside, is frequently praised by the ancients
and is celebrated on its coins.
The " crown of Smyrna " seems to have been an epithet
applied to the acropolis with its circle of buildings. Smyrna
is shut in on the W. by a hill now called Deirmen Tepe, with the
ruins of a temple on the summit. The walls of Lysimachus
crossed the summit of this hill, and the acropolis occupied
the top of Pagus. Between the two the road from Ephesus
entered the city by the " Ephesian gate," near which was a
gymnasium. Closer to the acropolis the outline of the stadium
is still visible, and the theatre was situated on the N. slopes
of Pagus. The line of the walls on the E. side is unknown;
but they certainly embraced a greater area than is included
by the Byzantine wall, which ascends the castle hill (Pagus)
from the Basmakhane railway station. Smyrna possessed
two harbours — the outer, which was simply the open roadstead
of the gulf, and the inner, which was a small basin, with a narrow
entrance closed by a rope in case of need, about the place now
occupied by bazaars. The inner harbour was partially filled
up by Timur in 1402, but it had not entirely disappeared till
the beginning of the igth century. The modern quay has
encroached considerably on the sea, and the coast-line of the
Greek time was about 90 yds. farther S. The streets were broad,
well paved and laid out at right angles; many were named
after temples: the main street, called the Golden, ran across
the city from W. to E., beginning probably from the temple
of Zeus Akraios on the W. side of Pagus, and running round the
lower slopes of Pagus (like a necklace on the statue, to use the
favourite terms of Aristides the orator) towards Tepejik outside
the city on the E., where probably the temple of Cybele, the
Metroon, stood. Cybele, worshipped under the name of Meter
Sipylene, from Mt Sipylus, which bounds the Smyrna valley
on the N., was the tutelar goddess of the city. The plain towards
the sea was too low to be properly drained and hence in rainy
weather the streets were deep with mud and water.
The river Meles,which flowed by Smyrna, is famous in literature
282
SMYTH, C. P.— SMYTH, J.
and was worshipped in the valley. The most common and
consistent tradition connects Homer with the valley of Smyrna
and the banks of the Meles; his figure was one of the stock
types on Smyrnaean coins,' one class of which was called
Homerian; the epithet " Melesigenes " was applied to him;
the cave where he was wont to compose his poems was shown
near the source of the river; his temple, the Homereum, stood
on its banks. The steady equable flow of the Meles, alike in
summer and winter, and its short course, beginning and ending
near the city, are celebrated by Aristides and Himerius. The
description applies admirably to the stream which rises from
abundant fountains, now known as Diana's bath, E. of the city,
and flows into the S.E. extremity of the gulf. The belief that
the torrent, almost dry except after rains, which flows by
Caravan bridge, is the ancient Meles, flatly contradicts the
ancient descriptions.
In the Roman period Smyrna was the seat of a conventus
which included S. Aeolis and great part of the Hermus valley.
It vied with Ephesus and Pergamum for the title " First (city)
of Asia." A Christian church existed here from a very early
time, having its origin in the considerable Jewish colony. Poly-
carp was bishop of Smyrna and was martyred there A.D. 155.
The bishops of Smyrna were originally subject to the metropolitan
of Ephesus; afterwards they became independent (a6roKe<#>aXot) ,
and finally were honoured with metropolitan rank, having
under them the bishops of Phocaea, Magnesia ad Sipylum,
Clazomenae, Sosandrus (Nymphi?), Archangelus (Temnos?)
and Petra (Menemen?).
When Constantinople became the seat of government the
trade between Anatolia and the W. lost in importance, and
Smyrna declined apace. A Turkish freebooter named Tsacha
seized Smyrna in 1084, but it was recovered by the generals
of Alexius Comnenus. The city was several times ravaged
by the Turks, and had become quite ruinous when the emperor
John Ducas Vatatzes about 1222 rebuilt it. But Ibn Batuta
found it still in great part a ruin when the famous chieftain
Aidin had conquered it about 1330 and made his son Amur
governor. It became the port of the Aidin amirate. Soon
afterwards the Knights of Saint John established themselves
in the town, but failed to conquer the citadel. In 1402 Timur
stormed the town and massacred almost all the inhabitants.
The Mongol conquest was only temporary, but Smyrna was
resumed by the Seljuks of Aidin and has remained till the present
day in Mahommedan hands. Until the reign of Abdul Mejid
it was included for administrative purposes in the eyalel of
Jezair (the Isles) and not in that of Anadoli. The represen-
tative of the Capitan Pasha, who governed that eyalel, was,
however, less influential in the city than the head of the Kara
Osman Oglu's of Manisa (see MANISA). From the early i7th
century till 1825, Smyrna was the chief provincial factory of the
British Turkey Company, as well as of French, Dutch and
other trading corporations. The passages with gates at each
end within which most Frank shops in modern Smyrna lie,
are a survival of the semi-fortified residences of the European
merchants.
2. The Modern City, capital of the Aidin vilayet, and the
most important town of Asia Minor. Pop. more than 250,000,
of which fully a half is Greek. It is one of the principal ports
of the Ottoman empire, and has a large trade, of which the
greater part is with Great Britain. The chief items of export
are figs, tobacco, valonia, carpets, raisins and silk, to the value
of some three million sterling. The imports are estimated at a
million more. About 7000 steamships visit the port annually.
Until 1894 the two railways from Smyrna to the interior belonged
to British companies; but in 1897 the Smyrna-Alashehr line
passed into the hands of a French syndicate, which completed
an extension to Afium Kara-hissar and virtually (though not
actually) effected a junction with the Anatolian railway system.
This line has branches to Burnabat and Soma. The Smyrna-
Aidin line has been extended to Dineir, and powers have been
obtained to continue to Isbarta and Egerdir. It has branches
to Buja, Seidikeui, Tireh, Odemish, Sokia, Denizli and Ishekli.
Modern Smyrna is in all but government a predominantly
Christian town (hence the Turks know it as giaour Ismir). There
is a large European element (including about 800 British subjects),
a great part of which lives in two suburban villages, Burnabat
and Buja, but has business premises in the city. The European
and Greek quarters rapidly increase, mainly to the N. ; while the
fine quays, made by a French company, are backed by a line of
good buildings. The streets behind, though clean and well
kept, are very narrow and tortuous. A fine new Konak (govern-
ment offices) has been built, and another important new structure
is the pier of the Aidin Railway Co. at Point. The development
of this railway is the most conspicuous sign of progress.
Smyrna is a headquarters of missions of all denominations and
has good schools, of which the International College is the best.
There is a British consul-general, with full consular establishment,
including a hospital.
See general authorities for Asia Minor, especially the travellers,
almost all of whom describe Smyrna. Also B. F. Slaars, Etude sur
Smyrne (1868); and W. M. Ramsay, Letters to the Seven Churches
(1904) and article in Hastings's Diet, of the Bible (1902).
(W. M. RA.;D. G. H.)
SMYTH, CHARLES PIAZZI. (1810-1900), British astronomer,
was born at Naples on the 3rd of January 1819. He was called
Piazzi after his godfather, the Italian astronomer of that name,
whose acquaintance his father, Admiral Smyth, had made at
Palermo when on the Mediterranean station. His father subse-
quently settled at Bedford and equipped there an observatory,
at which Piazzi Smyth received his first lessons in astronomy.
At the age of sixteen he went out as assistant to Sir Thomas
Maclear at the Cape of Good Hope, where he observed Halley's
comet and the great comet of 1843, and took an active part in
the verification and extension of La Caille's arc of the meridian.
In 1845 he was appointed astronomer royal for Scotland and
professor of astronomy in the university of Edinburgh. Here he
completed the reduction, and continued the series, of the observa-
tions made by his predecessor, Thomas Henderson (see Edinburgh
Observations, vols. xi.-xv.). In 1856 he made experimental
observations on the Peak of Teneriffe with a view to testing the
astronomical advantages of a mountain station. The Admiralty
made him a grant of £500 for the purpose, and a yacht — the
" Titania " — of 140 tons and a fine 75 in. equatorial telescope
were placed at his disposal by friends. The upshot of the
expedition was to verify Newton's surmise, that a " most serene
and quiet air ... may perhaps be found on the tops of the
highest mountains above the grosser clouds." The scientific
results were detailed in a Report addressed to the lords com-
missioners of the admiralty, 1858, in a communication to the
Royal Society (Phil. Trans, cxlviii. 465) and in the Edinburgh
Observations, vol. xii. A popular account of the voyage is
contained in Teneriffe, an Astronomer's Experiment, 1858. In
1871-1872 Piazzi Smyth investigated the spectra of the aurora,
and zodiacal light. He recommended the use of the " rainband "
for weather prediction (Jour. Scottish Meteor. Society, v. 84) , and
discovered, in conjunction with Professor A. S. Herschel, the
harmonic relation between the rays emitted by carbon monoxide.
In 1877-1878 he constructed at 'Lisbon a map of the solar-
spectrum (Edin. Phil. Trans, xxix. 285), for which he received
the Macdougall-Brisbane prize in 1880. Further spectroscopic
researches were carried out by him at Madeira in 1880 (Madeira
Spectroscopic, 1882), and at Winchester in 1884 (Edin. Phil.
Trans, vol. xxxii. pt. ii.). He published besides Three Cities
in Russia (1862), Our Inheritance in the Great Pyramid (1864),
Life and Work at the Great Pyramid (1867), and a volume On
the Antiquity of Intellectual Man (1868). In 1888 he resigned his
official position and retired to the neighbourhood of Ripon, where
he died on the 2ist of February 1900.
See Month. Notices Roy. Astr. Society, Ixi. 189; Observatory,
xxiii. 145, 184; R. Copeland in Astr. Nach. No. 3636, and Pop.
Astronomy (1900), p. 384; Nature, jxii. 161 (A. S. Herschel); Andr6
and Rayet, L'Astronomie pratique, ii. 12. (A. M. C.)
SMYTH (or SMITH), JOHN (c. 1570-1612), English non-
conformist divine, commonly called the Se-baptist, was born
SMYTH, SIR W. W.— SNAIL
283
about 1570, and was educated at Christ's College, Cambridge,
where he proceeded M.A. in 1593- He was probably vicar of
Hutton Cranswicke in the E. Riding of Yorkshire from 1593
to 1600, when he was elected lecturer or preacher of the city of
Lincoln, an office of which he was deprived in October 1602
for having " approved himself a factious man by personal
preaching and that truly against divers men of good place."
Two volumes of his Lincoln sermons, The Bright Morning Star
(1603), an exposition of Psalm xxii., and A Pattern of True
Prayer (1605), were dedicated to Lord Sheffield, who had acted
as arbiter between the preacher and the corporation. While
preparing these books he became connected with the Separatist
movement in Scrooby and Gainsborough, joined the Gains-
borough church, and became its pastor.1 With Thomas Helwys,
John Murton (or Morton) and others, he migrated to Amsterdam
at the end of 1607 to escape religious persecution, and in that city
practised as a physician, and became the leader of " the second
English church " (see CONGREGATIONALISM). About this time
he wrote his Principles and Inferences concerning the Visible
Church in support of Robert Browne's theory of ecclesiastical
polity, which was followed by Parallels, Censures and Observa-
tions, a reply to the Christian Advertisements of Richard Bernard
(1568-1641), vicar of Worksop, a puritan who remained in the
Anglican church. In 1608, too, appeared The Diferences of the
Churches of the Separation, in which he justified his non-com-
munion with Johnson's church on the curious ground that it
was no part of primitive and apostolic order to use a translation
of scripture during worship, or at any rate to have it open
before one while preaching (Christ having " closed the book "
at Nazareth before His sermon). Under Mennonite influence he
went farther, and by March 1609 when he published The Char-
acter of the Beast, he had become a Baptist (see BAPTISTS, sect. II.),
contending against infant baptism because (i) it has neither
precept nor example in the New Testament, (2) Christ com-
manded to make disciples by teaching them and then to baptize
them. He and his company were then faced by the dilemma that
their own infant baptism did not count, and Smyth solved the
problem by first baptizing himself (hence the name Se-Baptist),
probably by affusion, and then administering the rite to Helwys
and the others. Afterwards with 41 others he decided that
instead of baptizing himself he should have been baptized by the
Mennonites, in spite of their heretical view of the Person of Christ,
and applied for admission to their fellowship. They were some-
what suspicious of a man who had never held one position for
long, -and demanded a statement of doctrines, which he gave them
in twenty articles written in Latin, and in The Last Book of John
Smyth, called the Retractation of his Errors, together with a con-
fession of faith in 100 Propositions. A friendly Mennonite al-
lowed Smyth's church to meet in his bakery, but Smyth himself
died of consumption in August 1612, more than two years before
the remaining members of his band, by then reduced to 31, were
admitted (January 1615) into the Mennonite communion.
Helwys and Morton returned to England, and established the
first English Baptist churches.
Smyth was, like the other Cambridge men of his day, especially
the Separatists, the bondservant of logic, and wherever he saw " the
beckoning hand of a properly constructed syllogism " he was ready
to follow. Yet none of those who, in his generation, took the great
step had, according to Bishop Creighton, " a finer mind or a more
beautiful soul. None of them succeeded in expressing with so much
reasonableness and consistency their aspirations after a spiritual
system of religious belief and practice. None of them founded their
opinions on so large and liberal a basis." In his last declaration he
expressed his sorrow for the censures he had passed on Anglicans
and Brownists alike, and wrote " All penitent and faithful Christians
are brethren jn the communion of the outward church, by
what name soever they are known; and we salute them all
with a holy kiss, being heartily grieved that we should be rent
with so many sorts and schisms; and that only for matters of
no moment."
See J. H. Shakespeare, Baptist and Congregational Pioneers (London,
1906); H. M. Dexter, The England and Holland of the Pilgrims
(London and Boston, 1906). (A. J. G.)
1 He was never vicar of Gainsborough, and must not be confused
with the John Smyth who was imprisoned in the Marshalsea in
1592.
SMYTH, SIR WARINGTON WILKINSON (1817-1890), British
geologist, was born at Naples on the 26th of August 1817, his
father, Admiral W. H. Smyth (1788-1865), being at the time
engaged in the Admiralty Survey of the Mediterranean. He
was educated at Westminster and Bedford schoels, and after-
wards at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he graduated B.A.
in 1839. Having gained a travelling scholarship he spent more
than four years in Europe, Asia Minor, Syria and Egypt, paying
great attention to mineralogy and mining, examining coalfields,
metalliferous mines and salt-works, and making acquaintance
with many distinguished geologists and mineralogists. On his
return to England in 1844 he was appointed mining geologist
on the Geological Survey, and in 1851 lecturer at the School of
Mines, a post which he held until 1881 when he relinquished the
chair of mineralogy but continued as professor of mining. In
later years he became chief mineral inspector to the Office of
Woods and Forests, and also to the Duchy of Cornwall. He
was elected F.R.S. in 1858. He became president of the Geo-
logical Society of London in 1866-1868, and in 1879 he was
chairman of a Royal Commission appointed to inquire into
accidents in mines, the work in connexion with which continued
until 1886. He contributed sundry papers to the Memoirs of the
Geological Survey, the Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society
and the Transactions of the Royal Geological Society of Cornwall.
He was author also of A Year with the Turks (1854), and of A
Treatise on Coal and Coal-mining (1867). He was knighted in
1887. He died in London on the igth of June 1890, and was
buried at St Erth, not far from his country home at Marazion in
Cornwall.
A portrait and some reminiscences of W. W. Smyth will be found
in the Memoir of Sir A. C. Ramsay (1895), by Sir A. Geikie.
SMYTH (or SMITH), WILLIAM (c. 1460-1514), bishop of
Lincoln, was a Lancashire man by birth, and probably passed
some of his early days at Knowsley under the roof of Margaret,
countess of Richmond and Derby, the mother of Henry VII. He
appears to have been a member of Lincoln College, Oxford, and in
1485, just after the battle of Bosworth, he was made keeper of
the hanaper of the chancery. Two of Edward IV's daughters
were entrusted to his keeping; he was a member of the royal
council and he obtained the livings of Combe Martin, Devon, of
Great Grimsby and of Cheshunt, Hertfordshire. In 1491 he was
made dean of St Stephen's, Westminster, and two years later
bishop of Coventry and Lichfield. The bishop was a member of
Prince Arthur's council in the marches of Wales, and in 1501,
five years after he had been translated to the bishopric of Lincoln,
he became lord president of Wales. About 1507 he and Sir
Richard Sutton (d. 1524) set to work to found a new college in
Oxford. They rebuilt Brasenose Hall, added other existing halls
to it, and having obtained a charter in 1512, called it The King's
haule and college of Brasennose. Smyth, who was one of the
executors of Henry VII. 's will, retired from public life just after
this King's death, owing probably to some differences between
Bishop Richard Fox and himself; he was, however, president
of Wales until his death at Buckden in Huntingdonshire on the
and of January 1514. Although an able and scholarly man,
Smyth had little sympathy with the new learning. He bestowed
rich livings upon his relatives, one of whom, Matthew Smyth,
was the first principal of Brasenose College. In addition to his
liberal gifts to Brasenose College he gave money or land to Lincoln
and to Oriel Colleges; he founded a school at Farnworth,
Lancashire, and he refounded the hospital of St John at Lichfield.
From 1 500 to 1 503 he was chancellor of Oxford University.
SNAIL. In England the word " snail " in popular language
is associated with Gasteropods which inhabit land or fresh water,
and which possess large conspicuous spiral shells; terrestrial
Gasteropods, in which the shell is rudimentary and concealed, are
distinguished as " slugs." In Scotland the word " slug " is
absent from the vernacular vocabulary, both shell-bearing and
shell-less inland molluscs being known as snails. Marine Gastero-
pods are occasionally termed " sea-snails," and the compounds
" pond-snails," " river-snails," " water-snails " are in common
use. The commonest land-snails are those species which
284
SNAKE-BIRD
constitute the family Helicidae, order Pulmonala, sub-order
Stylommatophora. The families Limacidae, Arionidae and
Oncidiidae of the same sub-order, include nearly all the slugs.
The Oncidiidae are entitled to the name " sea-slugs," as they are
shell-less Pulmonates living on the seashore, though not actually
in the sea. The term " water-snails " includes the whole of the
remaining sub-order of the Pulmonala, namely, the Basommato-
phora, in which the eyes are sessile, with the exception of the
Auriculidae. The latter are terrestrial and occur mostly near the
seashore. Thus the whole of the Pulmonata (which breathe air,
are destitute of gill-plumes and operculum and have a complicated
hermaphrodite reproductive system) are either snails or slugs.
But there are a considerable number of snails, both terrestrial and
aquatic, which are not Pulmonates. The land-snails which have
no gill-plume in the mantle-chamber and breathe air, but have
the sexes separated, and possess an operculum, belong to the
orders Aspidobranchia and Peclinibranchia, and constitute the
families Helicinidae, Proserpinidae, Hydrocenidae, Cyclophoridae,
Cyclostomatidae and Aciculidae. The fresh-water snails which
are not Pulmonates are the Paludinidae, Vahatidae and Ampul-
laridae, together with Nerilina, a genus of the Nerilidae. These
all possess a fully developed gill-plume and are typical Pectini-
branchs of the sub-order Taenioglossa, most of the members of
which are marine.
The family Helicidae has a world-wide distribution. In Helix
the spire forms a more or less obtuse-angled cone; there are above
1 200 species, of which 24 are British. Helix nemoralis, L.,of which
H. hortensis is a variety, is one of the commonest forms. Helix
pomatia, L., is the largest species, and is known as the " edible
snail " ; it is commonly eaten in France and Italy, together with
other species. It was formerly believed to have been introduced into
Britain by the Romans, but there is no doubt that it is a native.
In Succinea the cone of the spire is acute-angled; three species are
British. In Vitrina the spire is very flat and the surface glassy. In
Bulimus the spire is elongated with a pointed apex. Pupa is named
from its resemblance to a chrysalis, the apex being rounded. The
shell of Clausilia is sinistral and its aperture is provided with a hinged
plate. The commoner European slugs of small size all belong to
the genus Limax, in which the opening of the mantle-chamber is
posterior. L. flavus is the cellar slug. L. agrestis, L. arborum, L.
maximus occur in gardens and fields. The larger black slugs are
species of Arion, of which two are British, A. ater and A. hortensis.
Teslacella haliotidea is common in Great Britain and throughout
Europe.
The species of Helix are all herbivorous, like the Pulmonata
generally; snails and slugs are well-known enemies to the gardener.
The animals being hermaphrodite copulate reciprocally. The eggs
of Helix are laid separately in the earth, each contained in a calcified
shell; those of Limax are also separate, but the shell is gelatinous.
Helix hibernates in a torpid condition for about four months, and
during this period the aperture of the shell is closed by a calcareous
membrane secreted by the foot.
The Limnaeidae occur in all parts of the world. Limnaeus contains
the largest species. L. pereger, Miiller, is ubiquitous in Great Britain
and common all over Europe. All the species are usually infested
with Cercariae and Rediae, the larval forms of Trematode parasites
of vertebrates. L. truncatulus harbours the Cercaria of Fasciola
hepatica, the liver-fluke, which causes rot in sheep. Ancylus, which
occurs in rivers, has a minute limpet-like shell. Planorbis has the
spire of the shell in one plane. Physa is smaller than Limnaeus and
has the upper part of the spire much shorter. In the Auriculidae
the aperture is denticulated. Auricula is confined to the East
Indies and Peru. Carychium minimum is British.
Of the Cyclostpmidae only one species, Cyclostoma elegans, Miiller,
is British ; it hides under stones and roots. The Helicinidae are
exotic, ranging from the West Indies to the Philippines. Of the
Aciculidae, which are all minute, Acicula lineata is British.
The Ampullaridae are confined to the tropics. Ampullaria has
very long tentacles and a long siphon formed by the mantle. Valvata
is common in fresh waters throughout Britain; the gill when the
animal is expanded is protruded beyond the mantle-chamber. The
Paludinidae are common in the N. hemisphere. Paludina and
Bithynia are both British genera. In Paludina the whorls of the
spiral are very prominent; the genus is viviparous, Bithynia is
smaller and the shell smoother.
Neritina has a very small spire, the terminal portion of the shell
containing nearly the whole animal.
For the morphology and classification of snails, see GASTROPODA.
A history of the British forms is given in Gwyn Jeffreys' s British
Conchology (1862), and by Forbes and Hanley in British Mollusca.
For speciegraphical details, see Woodward's Manual of the Mollusca
(1875), and Bronn's Tierreich (Weichtiere). For Fasciola hepatica,
see Thomas, Quart. Journ. Mic. Sci. (1882).
SNAKE-BIRD (the " darter " of many authors, and the Plotus
anhinga1 of ornithology), the type of a small but very well-
marked genus of birds, Plotus, belonging to the family Phalacro-
coracidae which contains the cormorants and shags. The name
commonly given to it by the English in N. America was derived
from its " long slender head and neck," which, its body being
submerged as it swims, " appears like a snake rising erect out of
the water " (J. Bartram's MS., quoted by G. F. Ord in A. Wilson's
Am. Ornithology, ix. 81). Snake-birds bear a general resemblance
both outwardly and in habits to Cormorants (g.D.),but are much
more slender in form and have both neck and tail much elongated.
The bill also, instead of being tipped with a maxillary hook, has
its edges beset with serratures directed backwards, and is sharply
pointed — in this respect, as well as in the attenuated neck,
likening the Snake-birds to the Herons; but the latter do not
generally transfix their prey as do the former.
The male of the American species, which ranges from Illinois to
the S. of Brazil, is in full breeding-plumage a very beautiful bird,
with crimson irides, the bare skin round the eyes apple-green and
that of the chin orange, the head, neck and most part of the body
Indian Snake-Bird (from S. R. Tickell's Drawing in the Library
of the Zoological Society).
clothed in black glossed with green ; but down each side of the neck
runs a row of long hair-like white feathers, tinged with pale lilac.
The much elongated scapulars, and the small upper wing-coverts
bear each a median white mark, which on the former is a stripe
pointed at either end, and on the latter a broad ovate patch.2 The
larger wing-coverts are dull white, but the quill-feathers of the wings
and tail are black, the last broadly tipped with brownish-red,
passing into greyish-white, and forming a conspicuous band when
the tail is spread in form of a fan, as it often is under water.3 The
hen differs much in appearance from the cock, having the head,
neck and breast of a more or less deep buff, bounded beneath by a
narrow chestnut band ; but otherwise her plumage is like that of
her mate, only not so bright in colour. The Snake-bird frequents the
larger rivers or back-waters connected with them, wher,e it may be
seen resting motionless on some neighbouring tree, generally choos-
ing a dead branch, or on a " snag " projecting from the bottom,
whence it plunges beneath the surface, in pursuit of its prey, to
emerge, in the manner before related, showing little more than its
slender head and neck. Its speed and skill under water are almost
beyond exaggeration, and it exhibits these qualities even in captivity,
taking — apparently without effort — fish after fish, however rapidly
they may swim and twist, and only returning to its perch when its
appetite is appeased or its supply of food exhausted. At liberty it
will indulge in long flights, and those of the male at the breedmg-
1 " Anhinga," according to Marcgrav, who first described this bird
(Hist. rer. nat. Brasiliae, p. 218), was the name it bore among the
natives.
2 These feathers are very characteristic of each species of the genus,
and in India, says Jerdon, are among the Khasias a badge of royalty.
3 This peculiarity, first pointed out to the writer by A. D. Bartlett,
who observed it in birds in the Zoological Society's possession,
doubtless suggested the name of " Water-Turkey " by which in some
places Plotus anhinga is said to be known.
SNAKE-FLY—SNAKES
285
season are ostentatiously performed in the presence of his mate,
around whom he plays in irregular zigzag courses. The nest is
almost always in trees or bushes overhanging the water's edge, and
is a large structure of sticks, roots and moss, in which are laid four
eggs with the white chalky shell that is so characteristic of most
Steganopodous birds. Not infrequently several or even many
nests are built close together, and the locality that suits the Snake-
bird suits also many of the herons.1 The African snake-bird, P.
congensis (or levaillanti of some authors), inhabits the greater part
of that continent N. from Natal; but, though met with on the White
Nile, it is not known to have occurred in Egypt, a fact the more
remarkable seeing that Canon Tristram found it breeding in con-
siderable numbers on the Lake of Antioch, to which it is a summer
visitor, and it can hardly reach its home without passing over the
intervening country. The male bird is easily distinguishable from
the American species by its rufous coronal patch, its buff throat
and its chestnut greater wing-coverts. A third species, P. melano-
gaster, ranges from Madagascar to. India, Ceylon, Borneo, Java and
China. This so closely resembles the last-mentioned that the
differences between them cannot be briefly expressed. The Australian
region also has its snake-bird, which is by some regarded as forming
a fourth species, P. novae-hollandiae; but others unite it to that
last mentioned, which is perhaps somewhat variable, and it would
seem (P.Z.S., 1877, p. 349) that examples from New Guinea differ
somewhat from those inhabiting Australia itself.
The anatomy of the genus Plolus has been dealt with more fully
than that of most forms. Beside the excellent description of the
American bird's alimentary canal furnished to Audubon by Mac-
gillivray, other important points in its structure have been well set
forth by A. H. Garrod and W. A. Forbes in the Zoological Proceedings
(1876, pp. 335-345. Pis- xxvi.-xxviii. ; 1878, pp. 679-681; and 1882,
pp. 208-2 1 2), showing among other things that there is an appreciable
anatomical difference between the species of the New World and of
the Old ; while the osteology of P. melanogaster has been admirably
described and illustrated by A. Milne-Edwards in A. Grandidier's
great Oiseaux de Madagascar (pp. 691-695, pis. 284, 285). In all
the species the neck affords a feature which seems to be unique.
The first seven of the cervical vertebrae form a continuous curve
with its concavity forward, but the eighth articulates with the
seventh nearly at a right angle, and, when the bird is at rest, lies
horizontally. The ninth is directed downwards almost as abruptly,
and those which succeed present a gentle forward convexity. The
muscles moving this curious framework are as curiously specialized,
and the result of the whole piece of mechanism is to enable the bird
to spear with facility its fishy prey. (A. N.)
SNAKE-FLY, the name given to neuropterous insects of the
genus Raphidia, closely allied to the alder-flies, remarkable for the
elongation of the head and prothorax to form a neck and for the
presence in the female of a long ovipositor. The larva, which is
active and carnivorous, is terrestrial, and lives in rotten timber.
SNAKE-ROOT. In most countries where snakes abound some
root or herb is used by the natives as an antidote for the bites of
venomous species, and many herbs have consequently received
the name of snake-root. Botanically speaking, the name properly
belongs to Ophiorrhiza Mungos, the Mungoose plant, a plant of
the natural order Rubiaceae, used in the JE. Indies for the purpose
above indicated. In medicine, however, the roots of Aristolochia
Serpentaria, Polygala Senega and Cimicifuga racemosa were
understood by this name, being distinguished as the Virginian,
seneca and black snake-roots. The root of Aristolochia reticulata
is known in the United States as Red river or Texan snake-root.
The roots or rhizome of Liatris spicata, Eryngium aquaticum
and Eupatorium altissimum have all been used in N. America for
snake-bites, the first two being known as button snake-root and
the last as white snake-root. The rhizome of Asarum canadense
passes under the name of Canadian snake-root. All of these con-
tain acrid or aromatic principles which, when a warm decoction
of the drug is taken, exercise a powerfully diaphoretic or, in some
cases, diuretic action, to which any benefit that may be derived
from their use must be attributed.
SNAKES, an order (Ophidia) in the class of Reptiles. They
may be characterized as very elongated reptiles without limbs
(unless with tiny vestiges of posterior limbs), without eyelids
and external ear openings, with the teeth anchylosed to the
supporting bones, a bifid slender tongue which is telescoped
into its basal half, and with a transverse vent. These characters
apply to all snakes, although none are peculiar to them. The
1 The curious but apparently well-attested fact of the occurrence
in England, near Poole, in June 1851, of a male bird of this species
(Zoologist, pp. 3601, 3654) has been overlooked by several writers
who profess to mention all cases of a similar character.
vast majority of snakes are further characterized by having
the right and left halves of the under-jaws connected by an
elastic band; a median, longitudinal furrow in the skin below
and behind the chin; the whole palatal apparatus is but loosely
connected with the skull, nowhere articulating with it. The
quadrate is indirectly articulated with the skull, first by the
horizontal, movable squamosal, secondly by the columella
auris. The quadrato-mandibular joint is placed in a level far
behind the occiput.
More detail concerning skull, scales and teeth will be found in
the diagnostic descriptions of the various families (vide infra) ; for
further anatomical information the reader is referred to the article
REPTILES (Anatomy).
The snakes are the most highly specialized branch of the
Sauria or Squamata, i.e. of scaly reptiles with movable quadrate
bones; with a transverse vent, near the posterior lateral corners
of which open the eversible, paired copulatory organs. In the
article LIZARD attention is drawn to the many characters which
make it difficult, if not impossible, to give diagnoses applicable
to all lizards and all snakes. Both these groups seem to have
reached their climax but recently, while the tortoises, crocodiles
and sphenodon are on the descending scale, mere remnants of
formerly much more numerous and cosmopolitan development.
The number of recent species of snakes is about 1600. The
order is practically cosmopolitan, with the exception of New
Zealand and certain absolutely isolated oceanic islands, like the
Hawaiian islands and the Azores. The N. limit approaches
that of the permanently frozen subsoil, going into the arctic
circle in Scandinavia, elsewhere sinking to about 54° N.; in
the S. hemisphere the 45th parallel may indicate their limit.
The number of species and individuals steadily decreases in the
cooler temperate zones, whilst it reaches its maximum in the
tropics. Every kind of terrain is tenanted, from dense, moist
and hot forests at the level of the sea to arid deserts, high plateaus
and mountains. In accordance with this general distribution
snakes show a great amount of differentiation with regard to
their mode of life and general organization; and from the
appearance alone of a snake a safe conclusion can be drawn
as to its habits.
Dr A. Giinther characterizes the chief categories as follows: —
(i) Burrowing snakes, which live under ground and but rarely
appear on the surface. They have a cylindrical rigid body,
covered with generally smooth and polished scales; a short
strong tail; a short rounded or pointed head with narrow
mouth; teeth few in number; small or rudimentary eyes;
no abdominal scutes or only narrow ones. They feed chiefly on
invertebrate animals, and none are poisonous. (2) Ground
snakes rarely ascending bushes or entering water. Their body
is cylindrical, flexible in every part, covered with smooth or
keeled scales, and provided with broad ventral and subcaudal
scutes. The non-poisonous kinds of ground snakes are the
typical and least specialized snakes, and more numerous than
any of the other kinds. They feed chiefly on terrestrial verte-
brates. The majority are non-poisonous; but the majority
of poisonous snakes must be referred to this category. (3) Tree
snakes, which are able to climb bushes or trees with facility
or pass even the greater part of their existence on trees. Their
body is generally compressed and slender; their broad ventral
scutes are often carinate on the sides. Those kinds which have
a less elongate and cylindrical body possess a distinctly prehensile
tail. The eye is generally large. Their coloration consists
often of bright hues, and sometimes resembles that of their
surroundings. They feed on animals which likewise lead an
arboreal life, rarely on eggs. Poisonous as well as innocuous
snakes are represented in this category. (4) Freshwater snakes,
living in or frequenting fresh waters; they are excellent swimmers
and divers. The nostrils are placed on the top of the snout and
can be closed whilst the animal is under water. Their body
is covered with small scales and the ventral scutes are mostly
narrow; the tail tapering; head flat, rather short; and the
eyes of small size. They feed on fish, frogs and other aquatic
animals, and are innocuous and viviparous. (5) Sea snakes are
286
SNAKES
distinguished by the compressed, rudder-shaped tail. They are
unable to move on land, feed on fishes, are viviparous and
poisonous.
The majority of snakes are active during the day, their energy
increasing with the increasing temperature; whilst some delight
in the moist sweltering heat of dense tropical vegetation, others
expose themselves to the fiercest rays of the midday sun. Not
a few, however, lead a nocturnal life, and many of them have,
accordingly, their pupil contracted into a vertical or more rarely
a horizontal slit. Those which inhabit temperate latitudes
hibernate. Snakes are the most stationary of all vertebrates;
as long as a locality affords them food and shelter they have no
inducement to change it. Their dispersal, therefore, must have
been extremely slow and gradual. Although able to move
FIG. i. — Diagram of Natural Locomotion of a Snake.
with rapidity, they do not keep in motion for any length of time.
Their orgajjs of locomotion are the ribs, the number of which
is very great, nearly corresponding to that of the vertebrae of
the trunk. They can adapt their motions to every variation
of the ground over which they move, yet all varieties of snake
locomotion are founded on the following simple process. When
a part of the body has found some projection of the ground
which affords it a point of support, the ribs are drawn more
closely together, on alternate sides, thereby producing alternate
bends of the body. The hinder portion of the body being drawn
after, some part of it (c) finds another support on the rough
ground or a projection; and, the anterior bends being stretched
in a straight line, the front part of the body is propelled (from
a to d) in consequence. During this peculiar locomotion the
numerous broad shields of the belly are of great advantage,
as by means of their free edges the snake is enabled to catch
and use as points of support the slightest projections of the ground.
A pair of ribs corresponds to each of these ventral shields.
Snakes are not able to move over a perfectly smooth surface.
The conventional representation of the progress of a snake,
in which its undulating body is figured as resting by a series
of lower bends on the ground whilst the alternate bends are
FIG. 2. — Diagram of Conventional Idea of a Snake's Locomotion.
raised above it, is an impossible attitude, nor do snakes ever
climb trees in spiral fashion, the classical artistic mode of repre-
sentation. Also the notion that snakes when attacking are able
to jump off the ground is quite erroneous; when they strike
an object, they dart the fore part of their body, which was
retracted in several bends, forwards in a straight line. And
sometimes very active snakes, like the cobra, advance simultane-
ously with the remainder of the body, which, however, glides
in the ordinary fashion over the ground; but no snake is able
to impart such an impetus to the whole of its body as to lose
its contact with the ground. Some snakes can raise the anterior
part of their body and even move in this attitude, but it is only
about the anterior fourth or third of the total length which can
be thus erected.
With very few exceptions,, the integuments form imbricate scale-
like folds arranged with the greatest regularity; they are small
and pluriserial on the upper parts of the body and tail, large and
uniserial on the abdomen, and generally biserial on the lower side
of the tail. The folds can be stretched out, so that the skin is capable
of a great degree of distension. The scales are sometimes rounded
behind, but generally rhombic in shape and more or less elongate;
they may be quite smooth or provided with a longitudinal ridge or
keel in the middle line. The integuments of the head are divided into
non-imbricate shields or plates, symmetrically arranged, but not
corresponding in size or shape with the underlying cranial bones or
having any relation to them. The form and number of the scales
and scutes, and the shape and arrangement of the head-shields, are
of great value in distinguishing the genera and species, and it will
therefore be useful to explain in the accompanying woodcut (fig. 3)
the terms by which these parts are designated. The skin does not
form eyelids; but the epidermis passes over the eye, forming a
transparent disk, concave like the glass of a watch, behind which
the eye moves. It is the first part which is cast off when the snake
sheds its skin; this is done several times in the year, and the epider-
mis comes off in a single piece, being, from the mouth towards the
tail, turned inside out during the process.
The tongue in snakes is narrow, almost worm-like, generally of a
black colour and forked, that is, it terminates in front in two
extremely fine filaments. It is otten exserted with a rapid motion,
sometimes with the object of feeling some object, sometimes under
the influence of anger or fear.
Snakes possess teeth in the maxillaries, mandibles, palatine and
pterygoid bones, sometimes also in the intermaxillary; they may
be absent in one or the other of the bones mentioned.
In the innocuous snakes the teeth are simple and uniform Deat"'°a-
in structure, thin, sharp like needles, and bent backwards; their
function consists merely in seizing and holding the prey. In some
all the teeth are nearly of the same size ; others possess in front of
the jaws (Lycodonts) or behind in the maxillaries (Diacrasterians)
a tooth more or less con-
spicuously larger than
the rest; whilst others
again are distinguished
by this larger posterior
tooth being grooved
along its outer face.
The snakes with this
grooved kind of tooth
have been named Opis-
thoglyphi, and also Sus-
pecti, because their saliva
is more or less poisonous.
In the true poisonous
snakes the maxillary
dentition has undergone
a special modification.
The so-called colubrine
venomous snakes, which
retain in a great measure
an external resemblance
to the innocuous snakes,
have the maxillary bone
not at all, or but little,
shortened, armed in front
with a fixed, erect fang,
which is provided with
a deep groove or canal
FIG. 3. — Head-shields of a Snake
for the conveyance of the (Ptyas korros).
Rostral.
Posterior frontal.
Anterior frontal.
Vertical.
Supraciliary or supraocular.
Occipital.
poison, the fluid being r,
secreted by a special /,
poison-gland. One or /',
more small ordinary teeth v,
may be placed at some s,
distance behind this o,
poison-fang. In the other n, n', Nasals.
venomous snakes (viper- /, Loreal.
ines and crotalines) the a, Anterior ocular or orbital, or prae-
maxillary bone is very orbital or anteocular.
short, and is armed with p, Postoculars.
a single very long curved u, u, Upper labials.
fang with a canal and /, t, Temporals.
aperture at each end. m, Mental.
Although firmly anchy- *, *, Lower labials.
losed to the bone, the c,c, Chin-shields.
tooth, which when at rest
is laid backwards, is erectile, — the bone itself being mobile and
rotated round its transverse axis. One or more reserve teeth, in
various stages of development, lie between the folds of the gum and
are ready to take the place of the one in function whenever it is
lost by accident, or shed.
The poison is secreted in modified upper labial glands, or in a pair
of large glands which are the homologues of the parotid salivary
glands of other animals. For a detailed account see West, J. Linn.
Soc. xxv. (1895), p. 419; xxvi. (1898), p. 517; and xxviii. (1900).
A duct leads to the furrow or canal of the tooth. The Elapinae have
comparatively short fangs, while those of the vipers, especially the
crotaline snakes, are much longer, sometimes nearly an inch in
length. The Viperidae alone have " erectile " fangs. The mechanism
is explained by the diagrams (fig. 4). The poison-bag lies on the side
of the head between the eye and the mandibular joint and is held in
position by strong ligaments which are attached to this joint and
to the maxilla so that the act of opening the jaws and concomitant
erection of the fangs automatically squeezes the poison out of the
glands.
Snakes are carnivorous, and as a rule take living prey only;
a few feed habitually or occasionally on eggs. Many swallow
SNAKES
287
their victim alive; others first kill it by smothering it between
the coils of fheir body (constriction). The effects of a bite by a
poisonous snake upon a small mammal or bird are almost
instantaneous, preventing its escape; and the snake swallows
its victim at its leisure, sometimes hours after it has been killed.
The prey is always swallowed entire, and, as its girth generally
much exceeds that of the snake, the progress of deglutition is
very laborious and slow. Opening their jaws to their fullest
extent, they seize the animal generally by the head, and pushing
alternately the right and left sides of the jaws forward, they press
the body through their elastic gullet into the stomach, its outlines
being visible for some time through the distended walls of the
abdomen. Digestion is quick and much accelerated by the
quantity of saliva which is secreted during the progress of de-
glutition, and in venomous snakes probably also by the chemical
action of the poison. The primary function of the poison-
apparatus is to serve as the means of procuring their food, but
From Cambridge Natural History, vol. viii., " Amphibia and Reptiles," by permission
of MacmiUan & Co., Ltd.
FIG. 4. — Poison Apparatus of Rattlesnake. Upper figures: dia-
grams of skull with fangs at rest. Lower figures : same, with fangs
protruded. G, prefrontal; M, maxilla; J, poison-fang; Tr, trans-
palatine; Ft, pterygoid; p, palatine; Q, quadrate; Sg, squamosal ;
Pm, premaxilla; T.a, articular; Pe and Di, muscles.
it also serves for defence. Only very few poisonous snakes (like
Naja elaps) are known to resent the approach of man so much as
to follow him on his retreat and to attack him. Others are
much less inclined to avoid collision with man than innocuous
kinds. They have thus become one of the greatest scourges
to mankind, and Sir J. Fayrer has demonstrated that in India
alone annually some 20,000 human beings perish from snake-bites.
Therefore it will not be out of place to add here a chapter on
snake poison and on the best means (ineffectual though they be
in numerous cases) of counteracting its deleterious effects. An
excellent account of the nature and of the effect of the venom
of snakes, by Charles J. Martin, is in Allbutt's System of Medicine.
The following condensed account has been abstracted from it.
The poison is a clear, pale-yellow fluid which reacts acid, and
contains about 30 % of solids, but this varies according to the state
-SnaAc °f concentration. Most venoms are tasteless, but cobra
poison. poison is said to be disagreeably bitter. Dried venom
keeps indefinitely, and dissolves readily in water. It keeps
also in glycerine. It contains albuminous bodies in solution, and is
in fact a pure solution of two or more poisonous proteids, which are
the active agents, with a small quantity of an organic acid or colour-
ing matter. The venom is destroyed by reagents which precipitate
proteids in an insoluble form, or which destroy them, e.g. silver
nitrate or permanganate of potash. Hypochlorites have the same
effect. But carbolic acid and caustic potash destroy it only after a
day or two, consequently they are not a remedy.
The venom is generally introduced into the subcutaneous tissue,
whence it reaches the general circulation by absorption through the
lymph and blood-vessels. When introduced directly into a vein, the
effects are instantaneous. It is absorbed by the conjunctiva, but,
excepting cobra poison, not by the mouth or alimentary canal,
provided there be no hollow teeth and no abrasions. The venom
of the various kinds of snakes acts differently.
The Symptoms of Cobra Poison.— Burning pain, followed by
sleepiness and weakness in the legs after half an hour. Then profuse
salivation, paralysis of the tongue and larynx, and inability to speak.
Vomiting, incapacity of movement. The patient seems to be con-
scious. Breathing becoming difficult. The heart's action is quick-
ened. The pupil remains contracted and reacts to light. At length
breathing ceases, with or without convulsions, and the heart slowly
stops. Should the patient survive, he returns rapidly to complete
health.
Rattlesnake Poison. — The painful wound is speedily discoloured
and swollen. Constitutional symptoms appear as a rule in less than
fifteen minutes: prostration, staggering, cold sweats, vomiting,
feeble and quick pulse, dilatation of the pupil, and slight mental
disturbance. In this state the patient may die in about twelve hours.
If he recovers from the depression, the local symptoms begin to play
a much more important part than in cobra-poisoning : great swelling
and discoloration extending up the limb and trunk, rise of temperature
and repeated syncope, and laboured respiration. Death may occur
in this stage. The local haemorrhagic extravasation frequently
suppurates, or becomes gangrenous, and from this the patient may
die even weeks afterwards. Recovery is sudden, and within a few
hours the patient becomes bright and intelligent.
Symptoms of Bite from the European Viper. — Local burning pain ;
the bitten limb soon swells and is discoloured. Great prostration,
vomiting and cold, clammy perspiration follow within one to three
hours. Pulse very feeble, with slight difficulty in breathing, and
restlessness. In severe cases the pulse may become imperceptible,
the extremities may become cold, and the patient may pass into
coma. In from twelve to twenty-four hours these severe constitu-
tional symptoms usually pass off, but in the meantime the swelling
and discoloration have spread enormously. Within a few days re-
covery usually occurs somewhat suddenly, but death may occur
from the severe depression, or from the secondary effects of sup-
puration.
The symptoms of the bite from the Daboia or Vipera russeli
resemble the effects of rattlesnake poison, but sanious discharges
from the rectum, &c., are an additional and prominent feature.
The recovering patient suffers from haemorrhagic extravasations in
va'rious organs, besides from the lungs, nose, mouth and bowels.
Kidney haemorrhage and albuminuria is a constant symptom. The
pupil is always dilated and insensitive to light.
Bite of Australian Elapine Snakes. — Pain and local swelling. The
first constitutional symptoms appear in fifteen minutes to two hours.
First faintness and irresistible desire to sleep. Then alarming
prostration and vomiting. Pulse extremely feeble and thread-like,
and uncountable. The limbs are cold and the skin is blanched.
Respiration becomes shallow with the increasing coma. Sensation is
blunted. The pupil is widely dilated and insensible to light. There
is sometimes passing of blood. If the patient survives the coma,
recovery is complete and as a rule rapid, without secondary
symptoms.
The Australian venom and that of all viperine snakes, perhaps
also that of the cobra, if introduced rapidly into the circulation,
occasions extensive intravascular clotting. If the venom is slowly
absorbed, the blood loses its coagulability, owing to the breaking
down of the red blood-corpuscles, most so with vipers, less with
Australian snakes, least so with the cobra. The cobra venom is
supposed to extinguish the functions of the various nerve-centres of
the cerebro-spinal system, the paralysation extending from below
upwards, and it has a special affinity for the respiratory centre.
The toxicity or relative strength of the cobra venom has been calcu-
lated to be sixteen times that of the European viper. Snakes can
poison each other, even those of the same kind.
Treatment. — Apply a ligature above, not on the top of, the situa-
tion of the bite, twist the string tightly with a stick. Then make a
free incision into the wound. Sucking out is dangerous! Then
bandage the limb downwards, progressing towards the wound ; re-
peat this several times. Do not keep the ligature longer than half
an hour. Then let the circulation return, and apply the ligature
again. In any case do not keep the ligature on for more than an
hour for fear of gangrene. Direct application into the widened
wound of calcium hypochlorite, i.e. bleaching powder, is very good,
or of a i % solution of permanganate of potash, or Condy's fluid.
Vigorous cauterization with nitrate of silver, driving the stick into
the widened wound, is also good, and it is a remedy which one can
carry in the pocket. Quick amputation of the finger is the best
remedy of all'if a large snake has bitten it.
Internal Remedies. — The administration of enormous doses of
alcohol is to be condemned strongly. Small, stimulating doses, and
repeated, are good, but stimulation can be more effectively produced
by ammonia or strychnine. Hypodermic injection of strychnine,
in some cases as much as one to two grains (but not into a vein!),
has in some cases had good results; but injection of ammonia,
instead of doing any good, has disastrous sloughing results. There
is only one fairly reliable treatment, that by serum therapeutics, the
injection of considerable quantities of serum of animals which have
SNAKES
Classifi-
cation.
been partially immunized by repeated doses of [that particular]
snake-venom. Unfortunately this treatment will not often be avail-
able. Several mammals and birds are supposed to be immune by
nature against snake-venom. Some more or less immune creatures
are the mongoose, the hedgehog and the pig, the secretary-bird, the
honey buzzard, the stork and probably other snake-eaters.
- Snakes are oviparous; they deposit from ten to eighty eggs
of an ellipsoid shape, covered with a soft leathery shell, in places
where they are exposed to and hatched by moist heat. The
parents pay no further attention to them, except the pythons,
which incubate their eggs by coiling their body over them,
and fiercely defend them. In some families, as many freshwater
snakes, the sea snakes, Viperinae and Crotalinae, the eggs are
retained in the oviduct until the embryo is fully developed.
These snakes bring forth living young.
The classification of snakes has undergone many vicissitudes.
J. Miiller (Zeitsckr.f. Physiol., 1831, p. 265) divided them into
Ophidia macrostomata and O. microstomata. A. M. C.
Dumeril (Catal. methodique, Mus. d'Hist. Nat., Paris,
1851, p. 199) distinguished between Opoterodonta,
Aglyphodonta, Proteroglypha and Solenoglypha. H. Stannius
(Zootomie d. Amphib., 1856) made a further improvement by
combination of the principles used by his predecessors, and he
divided the Angiostomata or narrow-mouthed snakes into Tor-
tricina, Typhlopina and Uropeltacea; the Eurystomata into
lobola or poisonous, and A sinea or innocuous snakes. Meanwhile
J. E. Gray (Cat. Snakes, Brit. Mus., 1849) had distinguished only
between Viperina and Colubrinia. A. Giinther (Cat. Colubrine
Snakes, Brit. Mus., 1858; " Reptiles of British India," Ray
Soc., 1864; article SNAKES, Ency. Brit., gth ed.) recognized
at last four sub-orders: — Hopoterodontes, Colubriformes, Colu-
briformes venenosi, Viperiformes; the most serious drawback
being the merging of the Peropoda in the non-poisonous Colu-
briformes. E. D. Cope (Proc. Ac. Philad., 1864, p. 230) resorted
to the modifications of the squamosal, ecto- and endopterygoid
bones, the condition of the vestigial limbs, and the teeth: —
Scolecophidia (Typhlopidae), Catodonta (Glauconiidae), Tor-
tricina (Ilysiidae and Uropeltidae), Asinea, Proteroglypha and
Solenoglypha. He adhered to this arrangement in his last
comprehensive work (Crocodilian!, Lizards and Snakes of North
America, 1898, Smithsonian Inst., 1900), but combined the Asinea
and Proteroglypha as Colubroidea, subdividing these into
Peropoda, Aglyphodonta, Glyphodonta, Proteroglypha and
Platycerca (Hydrophinae). In his last work he used, with
doubtful success, the variations of the penes and the lungs as
additional characters, chiefly for the grouping of the great mass
of the Colubroid snakes. G. A. Boulenger (Cat. Snakes, Brit.
Mus., 1893-1896) accepted Cope's principles, and mainly by
combining the Asinea of Stannius and Cope with the Protero-
glypha as Colubridae — wherein he was followed by Cope, as
mentioned above — and separating therefrom the Peropoda or
Boidae, he has produced a logically-conceived system, by far
the best hitherto proposed. It is followed in the present article.
Boulenger's phylogenetic system stands as follows: —
Uropeltidae
Viperidae
C. Opisthoglypha
I
C. Proteroglypha Amblycephalidae
i
Hysiidae
i
Xenopeltidae
1
Colubridae Aglypha
Boidae
Glauconiidae
Typhlopidae
This means that the Boidae retain most primitive characters.
Likewise primitive, but in various respects degraded, mainly
owing to burrowing habits, are the Typhlopidae with the Ily-
siidae, and Uropeltidae as a terminal
branch, and on the other hand
the Glauconiidae. The solitary
Xenopeltis is in several ways
intermediate between Boidae and
Ilysiidae. The rest of the snakes
are supposed to have started from some primitive, non-
degenerate, therefore boa-like group, leading by loss of the
vestiges of the hind-limbs and loss of the coronoid bone of the
mandible to the aglyphous or innocuous Colubridae, whence
further differentiation in three new lines has taken place, — (i)
the harmless Amblycephalidae as a side-issue, (2) the very poison-
ous proteroglyphous Elapidae, (3) the moderately or incipiently
poisonous Opisthoglypha, out of some of which seem to have arisen
the venomous Viperidae.
I. No ectopterygoid ; pterygoid not extending to quadrate; no
supratemporal or squamosal ; prefrontal forming a suture with nasal ;
coronoid present ; vestiges of pelvis present.
Maxillary vertical, loosely attached, toothed ; mandible toothless ;
a single pair of pelvis bones : Typhlopidae.
Maxillary bordering the mouth, forming sutures with the pre-
maxillary, prefrontal and frontal, toothless; lower jaw toothed;
pubis and ischium present, the latter forming a symphysis:
Glauconiidae.
II. Ectopterygoid present; upper and lower jaws toothed.
A. Coronoid present , prefrontal in contact with nasal.
1. Vestiges of hind-limbs; supratemporal present.
Squamosal large, suspending the quadrate: Boidae.
Squamosal small, intercalated in the cranial wall:
Ilysiidae.
2. No vestiges of limbs : squamosal absent : Uropeltidae.
B. Coronoid absent; squamosal present.
1. Maxillary horizontal; pterygoid reaching quadrate or
mandible.
Prefrontal in contact with nasal : Xenopeltidae.
Prefrontal not in contact with nasal : Colubridae.
2. Maxillary horizontal; pterygoid not reaching quadrate or
mandible: Amblycephalidae.
3. Maxillary vertically erectile, perpendicularly to ectoptery-
goid, and reaching quadrate or mandible: Viperidae.
For ordinary practical purposes this synopsis is useless, most of the
anatomical characters being visible only in the macerated skull.
The following characterization of the families is based upon more
accessible features.
Eyes vestigial or hidden; lower jaw toothless; without enlarged
ventral scales: Typhlopidae.
Eyes vestigial; teeth restricted to the lower .jaw; without en-
larged ventral scales : Glauconiidae.
Eyes very small; head not distinct; teeth in the upper and lower
jaws; ventral scales scarcely enlarged; tail extremely short, ending
obtusely and covered with peculiar scales: Uropeltidae.
Eyes functional, free, with vestiges of the hind-limbs appearing as
claw-like spurs on each side of the vent.
Ventral scales scarcely enlarged : Ilysiidae.
Ventral scales transversely enlarged : Boidae
Eyes free; with a pair of poison-fangs in the front part of the
mouth, carried by the otherwise toothless, much shortened, and
vertically erectile maxillaries; ventral scales transversely enlarged :
Viperidae.
All the remaining snakes combine the following characters . the
maxillaries are typically horizontal, not separately movable, with a
series of teeth. The mandible is toothed but has no coronoid bone.
There are no vestiges of limbs or of their girdles. The eyes are
free.
Dentary movably attached to the tip of the articular bone
of the mandible. Skin beautifully iridescent: Xeno-
peltidae.
Without a mental groove; the ends of the pterygoids are
free, not reaching the quadrate. Head thick and very-
distinct : A mblycephalidae.
With a median longitudinal groove between the shields of the
skin: Colubridae.
Family i. TYPHLOPIDAE. — Burrowing snakes, mostly small, which
have the body covered with smooth, shiny, uniform cycloid scales*
The teeth are restricted to the small maxillary bones. The quadrates
slant obliquely forward and are attached directly to the prootics,
owing to the absence of squamosals. The prefrontals are in lateral
contact with the nasals. The vestiges of the pelvis are reduced to a
single bone on each side, and there are no traces of limbs. The eyes
are hidden by shields of the skin. The mouth is very narrow, and
the halves of the under-jaw are not distensible. About 100 species
of these rather archaic snakes are known; in adaptation to their
burrowing life and worm and insect diet, they have undergone
degradation. The tail is mostly very short and sometimes ends in
FIG. 5. — Typhlops bolhriorhynchus, from India, natural size.
a horny spine. They are widely distributed in all tropical and sub-
tropical countries, even in such solitary places as Christmas Island,
but they do not occur in New Zealand. The chief genus is Typhlops,
SNAKES
289
•of which, for instance, T. braminus ranges from southern Asia, the
islands of the Indian Ocean and the Malay Islands to southern
Africa.
Family 2. GLAUCONIIDAE. — Burrowing like the Typhlopidae, which
they much resemble externally, but the maxillaries retain their
normal position and are. toothless, teeth being restricted to the
lower 'jaw, which is short, stout, and not dis-
tensible. The pelvic girdle and the hind-limbs
show the least reduction found in any recent
snakes, ilia, pubes and ischia being still distin-
guishable, the last even retaining their sym-
physis, and there are small vestiges of the femurs.
About 30 species, mostly of the genus Glauconia,
in south-western Asia, Africa, Madagascar, the
Antilles and both Americas, G. dulcis ranging
northwards into Texas, G. humilis into California.
Family 3. ILYSIIDAE. — Mostly burrowing. The
scales of the long, cylindrical body are smooth
and small, scarcely enlarged on the ventral
side. The tail is extremely short and blunt.
The head is very small and not distinct from the
neck, a usual feature in burrowing snakes and
lizards. The gape of the mouth is narrow.
The quadrate bones are short and stand rather
vertically. The squamosals form part of the
cranial wall, being firmly wedged in between the
quadrate, prootic and occipital bones. Vestiges
of the pelvis and hind-limbs are small, but they
terminate in claw-like spurs which protrude
FIG g Three between the scales on either side of the vent,
Views of Head of as m tne Boidae. The small eyes are some-
Typhlops bra- times covered by transparent shields. About
minus (India), half-a-dozen species only are known in South
magnified. ' America, Ceylon, the Malay Islands and Indo-
China. They are viviparous like the Typhlo-
pidae, upon which they feed besides worms and insects, llysia
s. Tortrix scytale, one of the " coral-snakes " of tropical South
America, is beautiful coral-red with black rings, grows to nearly a
yard in length, and is said sometimes to be worn as a necklace by
native ladies.
Family 4. UROPELTIDAE (RHINOPHIDAE). — Burrowing snakes of
Ceylon and southern India, with a very short tail, which ends in a
peculiar, often obliquely truncated, shield, hence the name. The
eyes are very small. The scales of the body are smooth and are
but little larger on the belly. The coloration is mostly beautiful,
black and red. The Uropeltidae are in various respects intermediate
between the two last and the next family. The quadrates are
directly attached to the skull, the squamosals being absent. Teeth
are carried in both jaws. There are no vestiges of hind-limbs or of
the pelvis.
These tail-shielded snakes, of which about 40 species are known,
are viviparous and burrow in the ground, preferring damp mountain-
forests. Uropeltis grandis, the only species of the type-genus, is
confined to Ceylon; about 18 in. in length, it is blackish above,
yellow below, often with small spots on the upper and the under
surface. Rhinophis sanguineus lives in southern India; it is black
above with a bluish gloss, the belly is bright red with black spots,
like the convex tail-shield.
Family 5. BOIDAE. — Typical, often very large, snakes, which have
vestiges of pelvis and hind-limbs, the latter appearing as claw-like
spurs on each side of the vent. The scales of the upper surface are
usually small and smooth, while those of the belly form one broad
series. The quadrate is carried by the horizontally-elongated squa-
mosal, which rests loosely upon the skull. The prefrontals are in
contact with the nasals. Sharp, recurved teeth are carried by the
mandibles, the pterygoids, palatines, maxillaries, and in the Python-
inae by the premaxillaries also. The Boidae comprise some 60
species, which have been grouped into many fancy genera. The
range of the family extends over all the tropical and subtropical
countries, including islands, except New Zealand.
Sub-family I. Pythoninae. — With a pair of supraorbital bones
between the prefrontal, frontal and postfrontal bones. The pre-
maxilla generally carries a few small teeth. The subcaudal scales are
mostly in two rows. The pythons (q.v.) are restricted to the palaeo-
tropical and Australian regions, with the sole exception of Loxocemus
bicolor in southern Mexico.
Sub-family 2. Boinae. — Without supraorbital bones. The pre-
maxilla is toothless. The subcaudal scales form mostly a single row.
Widely distributed. Boa (q.v.) in tropical America and with two
species in Madagascar. Eunectes murinus, the Anaconda (q.v.),
Charina, e.g. bottae, a small sand-snake from Oregon to California.
Eryx jaculus, also a sand-snake, from North Africa to Central
Asia, and extending into Greece. Enygrus, ranging from New
Guinea to the Fiji Islands. Casarca dussumieri, differing from Boa
chiefly by the rough and strongly-keeled scales, is confined to
Round Island near Mauritius. This makes the occurrence of a
species of Corallus in Madagascar less remarkable, while all the
others live in Central and South America.
Family 6. XENOPELTIDAE. — One species, Xenopeltis unicolor, in
south-eastern Asia and Malay Islands. Boiilenger rightly considers
xxv. 10
this snake in various ways intermediate between the Ilysiidae,
Boidae and Colubridae. The prefrontal bones are still in contact with
the nasals as in the previous families, but the coronoid bones of the
mandibles are absent as in the remaining, families, and this loss also
occurs in the Boine Charina. The most remarkable feature is the
dentary bone, which is movably attached to the much-elongated
articular bone (cf. Polyodontophis of Colubrinae), the movability
being enhanced by the absence of the coronoid. The quadrate is
short and thick, and is carried by the broad and short squamosal,
which lies flat against the skull, reminding in this respect of llysia.
The smooth, black and brown scales of the back are highly iridescent,
hence the generic name of this peculiar snake, which reaches the
length of one yard.
Family 7. COLUBRIDAE. — Maxillaries horizontal and forming the
greater portion of the upper jaw, which is toothed like the lower
jaw; coronoid of mandible absent. Pterygoids connected with the
quadrates which are carried by the squamosals, and these are loosely
attached to the skull. Prefrontals not in contact with the basals.
Ectopterygoids present. No vestiges of limbs or pelvis. This family
comprises about nine-tenths of all recent species of snakes and is
cosmopolitan, New Zealand being the most notable exception. The
1300 to 1400 species contain terrestrial, arboreal and aquatic forms,
many of which are highly specialized.
Boulenger, adopting Dumeril's terms, has divided them into three
parallel series: —
A. Aglypha. — All the teeth are solid, and not grooved. Harmless,
non-poisonous.
B. Opisthoglypha. — One or more of the posterior maxillary teeth
are grooved. Most of these snakes, which number about 300 species,
are moderately poisonous.
C. Proteroglypha. — The anterior maxillary teeth are grooved or
" perforated." About 200 very poisonous species, e.g. cobras, coral-
snakes and sea-snakes.
The second and third series containing only about 400 species,
the Aglypha still present the appalling number of 1000 species, and
even the grouping of this mass into three sub-families does not
lighten the task of arranging the chaos, since one of these sub-families
contains only one, and the other but a very few species. We have
therefore still 1000 species, all so closely allied that they together
are but of sub-family rank. They possess few reliable characters;
their modifications are not weighty, and it is almost certain that some
of these characters, and even combinations thereof, have been
developed independently and in different countries. Many of the
so-called genera, or groups of genera, are consequently not to be
used either as witnesses of blood-relationship or of geographical
distribution.
Some of the usual characters employed for systematic purposes,
for the making of convenient keys, are the following: The number
of rows of scales across the body and in a longitudinal direction;
shape and structure of scales, whether smooth or with a longitudinal
keel ; arrangement of the shields on the head ; shape of the con-
tracted pupil. Above all, the dentition, which exhibits almost endless
modifications, in most cases is difficult to ascertain and to appreciate
in its subtle distinctions. Internal, skeletal characters, useless for
ordinary practical purposes, are the various apophyses on the
ventral side of the vertebrae and the penial armaments fancied by
Cope.
It is impossible here to mention any but the more obvious genera
and groups of colubrine snakes.
Series A. AGLYPHA. — Sub-family I. Acrochordinae. — The few
genera and species of these ugly-looking snakes are mostly aquatic,
inhabiting rivers and estuaries of S.E Asia; but one, Nothopsis,
lives on the Isthmus of Darien, and another, Stoliczkaia, is found in
the Khasia Hills of N.E. India. Acrochordus javanicus has no en-
larged ventral shields; the flat, viperish-looking head is covered
with small granules, with the eyes and nostrils well on the upper
surface. Chersydrus ranges from Madras to New Guinea; the body
and tail are laterally compressed and form a ventral fold which is
covered with tiny scales like the rest of the body. The main
anatomical justification of this sub-family is given by the postfrontal
bones, which, besides bordering the orbits posteriorly, are extended
forwards so as to form the upper border of the orbits, separating the
latter from the frontals.
Sub-family 2. Colubrinae. — The postfrontal bones are restricted
to the posterior border of the orbits. The maxillary and dentary
bones carry teeth on their whole length. This sub-family contains
about 1000 species; few of them reach a length of more than two
yards, some of the largest belonging to the Indian Zaocys s. Cory-
phodon,vfhich grow to 10 ft. Most of them are oviparous. Some are
more or less aquatic, oth'ers are absolutely arboreal, others again
prefer dry, sandy or rocky localities according to their food. The
sub-family is cosmopolitan, excepting the New Zealand sub-region,
and finds its natural N. limit on the permanently frozen underground,
where hibernation is of course impossible. Only a few out of the
more than 120 genera can be mentioned here.
Coluber in Europe, Asia and North America. C. Ipngissimus^ s.
flavescens s. aesculapii was probably the species held in veneration
by the ancient Romans. It grows to a length of 5 ft., climbs ex-
tremely well, feeds chiefly on mice, and becomes very tame. Its
coloration varies from pale golden brown to black; the scales are
290
SNAKES
smooth and shiny. Its original home is Italy and S.E. Europe,
whence it has spread N. into S. Germany. Its occurrence at widely
distant and isolated localities was formerly supposed to be due to
its introduction by the Romans. C. corais, from the S. states of
N. America far into S. America, reaches 8 ft. in length. C. (Pily-
ophis) sayi, C. catenifer and others in N. America.
Coronella, widely distributed excepting Australia and S. America.
C. austriaca s. laevis, the " smooth snake " of Europe, in England, in
Hampshire and Dorsetshire, eats chiefly lizards; owing to its
coloration, which varies much, it is often mistaken for the viper.
C. getula is one of the many N. American species. Zamenis of Europe,
Asia, N. Africa, N; and Central America, with many species, e.g.
Z. mucosus the Indian " rat-snake, " Z. constrictor in the United
States. Some species of the Central and S. American genus Urotheca
bear an extraordinary resemblance in coloration to the pretty,
black, red and yellow poisonous Elaps. Dendrophis of India and
Australia (e.g. D. pictus of India), and Leptophis s. Ahaetulla (e.g.
L. liocerus, neotropical) may be taken as examples of long and slender
tree-snakes.
Tropidonotus, with near 100 species, -is cosmopolitan with the
exception of New Zealand. Some of the species, like the Indian
T. quincunciatus and T. stolatus and the N. American T. ordinalus,
are perhaps more abundant as regards the number of individuals
than any other snake. T. natrix, the grass or ringed snake, is very
common in Europe, including England but not Scotland or Ireland;
easily recognized even at a distance by two yellow or white spots
which it has behind its head. It grows rarely to a length of 4 ft. ;
it never bites, and feeds chiefly on frogs, toads and fishes, but mice
are never taken. Its eggs, which are of the size and shape of a
dove's egg, are from fifteen to thirty in number, are deposited in
mould or under damp leaves, and are glued together into one mass.
Polyodontophis of Madagascar, S.E. Asia and Central America is
remarkable for having the dentary bones loosely attached to the
apex of the elongated articular bone. Calamaria of Indo-China is
an example of burrowing snakes, with a short tail and small eyes;
in Typhlopophis of the Philippines the eyes are concealed.
Sub-family 3. Rhachiodontidae, represented by Dasypeltis scabra
of tropical and S. Africa. Characterized by possessing only a few
teeth, on the posterior part of the maxillaries, on the palatines and
\\
FIG. 7. — Dasypeltis unicolor, in the act of swallowing an egg. Nat. size.
dentaries; some of the vertebrae in the lower region of the neck
have strongly developed hypapophyses (not provided with a cap of
enamel, as has often been asserted), which are directed forwards and
pierce the oesophagus. The principal diet of these peculiar snakes
seems to consist of eggs. In Cape Colony they are known as
" eyervreter, " i.e. egg-eater. A snake, scarcely 20 in. in length, and
with a body not thicker than a man's little finger, is able to swallow
a hen's egg, a feat which seems quite impossible. As the egg passes
at last through the alarmingly distended neck, the snake makes
some slight contortions and the swelling collapses, the shell having
been filed through by the saw-like apparatus. Whilst the contents
are thus retained without loss, the crumpled shell is then vomited
out. This peculiar arrangement occurs also in an Indian snake,
Elachiston, which represents, however, a sub-family of the Opistho-
glypha. In another, probably also egg-eating snake, the Indian
Coronelline Nymphophidium, the same effect is reached by two
prominences at the base of the skull.
Series B. OPISTHOGLYPHA. — One, or a few, of the posterior
maxillary teeth have a groove or furrow in front, which conducts the
secretion of the enlarged upper labial glands. They are all more or
less poisonous, paralysing their prey before, or during the act of
swallowing; the poison-fangs standing so far back in the mouth,
these snakes cannot easily inflict wounds with them on man; more-
over, the poison is not very strong and not available in large quan-
tities. It may well be doubted whether Opisthoglypha form one
genuine group instead of a heterogeneous assembly. They comprise
about 300 species of terrestrial, arboreal and aquatic forms, and as
a group they are almost cosmopolitan, including Madagascar, but
excepting new Zealand.
Sub-family I. Dipsadomorphinae. — Nostrils lateral; dentition
well developed. Long-tailed, terrestrial and arboreal forms. The
tree-snakes are mostly green above with the under parts white or
yellow.
Coelopeltis, with concave, or grooved scales; C. lacertina s.
monspessulanils, one of the largest European snakes in Mediterranean
countries and south-western Asia.
Dipsadomorphus, Dipsas, Leptognathus, Dryophis, Dendrophis
and other closely allied genera are typical, very long-bodied and long-
tailed tree-snakes, chiefly tropical. The graceful form of their
body, the elegance and rapidity of their movements, and the ex-
quisite beauty of their colours have been the admiration of all who
have had the good fortune to watch them in their native haunts.
The majority lead an exclusively arboreal life; only a few descend
to the ground in search of their food. They prey upon every kind of
arboreal animal — birds, tree-frogs, tree-lizards, &c. All seem to be
diurnal, and the larger kinds attain to a length of about 4 ft. The
most beautiful of all snakes are perhaps certain varieties of Chry-
sopelea ornata, a species extremely common in the Indian Archi-
pelago and many parts of the continent of tropical Asia. One of
these varieties is black, with a yellow spot in the centre of each scale;
these spots are larger on the back, forming a series of tetrapetalous
flowers; the head is similarly ornamented. Another variety has a
red back, with pairs of black crossbars, the bands of each pair being
separated by a narrow yellow space; sides brown, dotted with black;
belly dark green, the outer portion
of each ventral shield being yellow,
with a blackish spot.
The features by which the tree-
snakes are distinguished are still
more developed in the whip-snakes
(Dryophis), whose excessively slender
body has been compared to the cord
of a whip. Although arboreal, like
the former, they are nocturnal in
their habits, having a horizontal
instead of a round pupil of the eye.
They are said to be of a fierce dis-
position, feeding chiefly on birds.
In some of the species the elongate
form of the head is still more ex-
aggerated by a pointed flexible
appendage of the snout (Passerita),
which may be nearly half an inch
in length, or leaf-like, as in the
Madagascar Langaha. The Mexican
Trimorphodon much resemble
viperine snakes with the flat, tri-
angular head, narrow neck, slit-like
pupil and pugnacious disposition.
A still. more remarkable resemblance
exists in the shape and striking, red,
black and yellow coloration between
Scolecophis aemulus of Chihuahua
and the poisonous Elaps fulvius, the
American coral-snake, but Cope has
been careful to point out that these
two creatures are not known to
inhabit the same district.
Sub-family 2. Elachistodonidae. —
Represented by Elachistodon weslermanni of Bengal, with the same
peculiar dentition and with sharp hypapophyses on the vertebrae of
the lower neck, as described of Dasypeltis (see above).
Sub-family 3. Homalopsinae. — The nostrils of these absolutely
aquatic, viviparous snakes are valvular and placed on the upper
surface of the snout. The eyes are small, with vertical pupils.
About two dozen ugly-looking species inhabit rivers and estuaries
from Bengal to Australia. Cerberus rhynchops; Hypsirhina plum-
bea, Homalopsis; Hipistes hydrinus of Siam has a compressed body,
and much resembles the Hydrophinae in general appearance and its
partly marine life. Herpeton of Cambodia has a pair of long tentacles
on the snout and is said to have a partly vegetable diet!
Series C. PROTEROGLYPHA. — The anterior maxillary teeth are
deeply grooved, or so folded as to appear hollow or perforated.
Behind these enlarged poison-fangs follows a series of smaller, solid
SNAKES
291
teeth, hence the term " proteroglypha," which is intended to mean
that the anterior teeth are grooved. These snakes are all very
poisonous, mostly viviparous and found in all tropical and sub-
tropical countries, with the exception of Madagascar and New
Zealand.
Sub-family I. Elapinae. — Terrestrial, with a cylindrical tail,
comprising about 150 species which have been grouped into numerous
genera, mostly upon very slight differences. The most remarkable
are the following. Naja tripudians and ^V. haje, the cobra (q.v.).
The largest species is the N. bungarus s. elaps, the " hamadryad,"
snake-eating cobra," or king-cobra of Indian countries, reaching
more than 12 ft. in length, and living mainly upon other snakes.
Sepedon haemachates, of S. Africa, is named by the Boers " roode
FIG. 8. — Indian Whip-Snake. Passerita mycterizans.
koper kapel" or " ring-hals," i.e. banded neck, the latter name
being, however, often applied also to the cobra. It resembles in colour
some varieties of the latter snake, and, like this, it has the power,
though in a less degree, of expanding its hood. But its scales are
keeled and its form is more robust. It is equally active and courage-
ous, not rarely attacking persons who approach too near to its
resting-place. In confinement it evinces great ferocity, opening its
mouth and erecting its fangs, from which the poison is seen to flow
in drops. During such periods of excitement it is even able, by the
pressure of the muscles on the poison-duct, to eject the fluid to some
distance; hence it shares with the cobra a third Dutch name, that
of " spuw slang " (spitting snake). It grows to a length of 2 or 3 ft.
Another kind is the "schapsticker" (sheep stinger), 5. rhombeatus.
It is extremely common in S. Africa, and extends far N. along the
E. as well as W. coast. It is of smaller size than the preceding, and
causes more injury to animals, such as sheep, dogs, &c. than to man.
It varies in colour, but a black mark on the head like an inverted V
remains nearly always visible.
The species of Bungarus, four in number, are extremely common
in India, Burma, and Ceylon, and are distinguished by having only
one row of undivided sub-caudal shields. Three of the species have
the body ornamented with black rings, but the fourth and most
common (B. coeruleus), the
" krait" of Bengal, possesses a
dull and more uniform colora-
tion. The fangs of the bunga-
rums are shorter than those of
the cobras, and cannot penetrate
so deeply into the wound. Their
bite is therefore less dangerous
and the effect on the general
system slower, so that there is
more prospect of recovery by
treatment. Nevertheless, the
FIG. 9. — Head of Hcrpcton
tentaculatum.
krait is probably the most destructive snake to human life in India,
since it is very common and often creeps into the houses.
Doliophis intestinalis of Indo-China has enormously developed
poison glands, which extend down the whole anterior third of the
body, in front of the heart.
No part of the world possesses so many snakes of this sub-family
as Australia, where, in fact, they replace the non-venomous colubrine
snakes; many of them are extremely common and spread over a
considerable area. Fortunately the majority are of small size, and
their bites are not followed by more severe effects than those from
the sting of a hornet. Only the following are dangerous to man and
larger animals: the " death-adder," Acanlhopis antarcticus, easily
recognized by the peculiar end of the tail which is compressed and
terminates in a thin horny spine; common throughout Australia
to the Moluccas, scarcely one yard in length; the " black snake
(Pseudechis porphyriacus) , likewise common throughout the Australian
continent, especially in low marshy places, and upwards of
6 ft. in length ; it is black, with each scale of the outer series red
at the base; when irritated it raises the fore part of its body and
flattens out its neck like a cobra, the females are sometimes known
as "brown adders"; the "tiger-snake," Notechis scutatus (s.
Hoplocephalus curtus), with a similar distribution, and also
common in Tasmania, from 5 to 6 ft. long, and considered the most
dangerous of the tribe. Good descriptions and figures of all these
snakes are given in Krefft's Snakes of Australia (Sydney, 1869,
410).
Several genera of the Elapinae lead a more or less burrowing life;
their body is of a uniform cylindrical shape, terminating in a short
tail, and covered with short polished scales; their head is short,
the mouth rather narrow, and the eye small. They are the tropical
American Elaps, the Indian Cattophis, the African Poecilophis and
the Australian Vermicella. The majority are distinguished by the
beautiful arrangement of their bright and highly ornamental colours;
many species of Elaps have the pattern of the so-called coral-snakes,
their body being encircled by black, red and yellow rings — a pattern
FIG. 10. — A Poisonous Snake (Elaps fulvius} swallowing a similarly
coloured Opisthoglyphous Snake (Homahcranium semicinctum) .
which is peculiar to snakes, venomous as well as non-venomous, of
the fauna of tropical America. Although the poison of these narrow-
mouthed snakes is probably as virulent as that of the preceding,
man has much less to fear from them, as they bite only under great
provocation. Moreover, their bite must be frequently without serious
effect, owing to their narrow mouth and the small size of their poison-
fangs. They are also comparatively of small size, only a few species
rarely exceeding a length of 3 ft., for instance Elaps fulvius, which
extends into the S. states of N. America.
0
292
SNAKES
Sub-family 2. Hydrophinae. — Tail laterally compressed ; marine.
Of sea-snakes some fifty species are known. All are inhaoitants of
the tropical Indo-Pacific ocean, and most numerous in and about the
Persian Gulf, in the East Indian Archipelago, and in the seas between
S. Japan and N. Australia. One species which is extremely common
(Pelamis bicolor), and which is easily recognized by the black colour
of its upper and the yellowish tints of its lower parts (both colours
being sharply denned), has extended its range W. to the sea round
Madagascar, and E. to the Gulf of Panama. One species, however,
Distira semperi, is confined to the landlocked freshwater Lake Taal
at Luzon in the Philippines. Sea-snakes are viviparous and pass
their whole life in the water; they soon die when brought on shore.
The scales are very small, often very much reduced, and there are
frequently no enlarged ventrals on the compressed belly, but Platurus
has broad ventrals. Their motions in the water are almost as rapid
as they are uncertain and awkward when the animals are removed
out of their proper element. Their nostrils are placed quite at the
top of the snout. These openings are small and provided with a
valve interiorly, which is opened during respiration, and closed when
the animal dives. They have very capacious lungs, extending back-
wards to the anus; by retaining air in these extensive lungs they are
able to float on the surface of the water
and to remain under water for a consider-
able length of time. Sea-snakes shed their
skin frequently; but it peels off in pieces
as in lizards, and not as in the freshwater
snakes, in which the integuments come
off entire. Several species are remarkable
for the extremely slender and prolonged
anterior part of the body, and very small
head. The eye is small, with round pupil,
which is so much contracted by the light
when the snake is taken out of the water
that the animal becomes blinded and is
unable to hit any object it attempts to
strike. The tongue is short, and the sheath
in which it lies concealed opens near to the
front margin of the lower jaw; scarcely
more than the two terminating points are
exserted from the mouth when the animal
is in the water. The mouth shuts in a
somewhat different way from that of other
snakes: the middle of the rostral shield is
produced downwards into a small lobule,
which prevents the water from entering
the mouth; there is generally a small
notch on each side of the lobule for the
passage of the two points of the tongue.
The food of sea-snakes consists entirely
of small fish; among them species with
very strong spines. As all these animals
are killed by the poison of the snake
before they are swallowed, and as their
muscles are perfectly relaxed, their armature
is harmless to the snake, which begins to
swallow its prey from the head, and de-
presses the spines as deglutition proceeds.
Sea-snakes belong to the most poisonous
_ elf* c , species of the whole order. Accidents are
PIG. II.- s KB, rarely caused by them, because they are
FeLamis bicolor. extremely shy and swim away on the
least alarm; but, when surprised in the submarine cavities forming
their natural retreats, they will, like any other poisonous terrestrial
snake, dart at the disturbing object; and, when out of the water,
they attempt to bite every object near them, even turning round to
wound their own bodies. They cannot endure captivity, dying in
the course of two or three days, even when kept in capacious tanks.
The greatest size to which some species attain, according to positive
observation, is about 12 ft., and therefore far short of the statements
as to the length of the so-called sea-serpents (q.v.). Boulenger has
written an interesting account of sea-snakes in Natural Science, i.
(1892), p. 44 seq.
Family 8. A mblycephalidae. — The pterygoids are widely separated
from the quadrates, not reaching beyond the level of the occipital
condyle. This condition can be ascertained without dissection,
when the mouth is opened widely. The squamosals are reduced to
pad-like vestiges. Otherwise these snakes agree with the aglyphous
Colubridae. Externally they are easily distinguished by the absence
of a longitudinal groove on the skin. The head is thick, very distinct
from the neck and the pupil is vertical, so that these harmless snakes
look rather viperish. About 30 species, with several genera, are
known from the oriental and neotropical regions. Amblycephalus,
e.g. monticola, with compound body, in S.E. Asia.
Family 9. Viperidae. — The maxillaries are very short, movably
pivoting upon the prefrontals and also attached to the ectopterygoids,
so that they can be erected together with the large poison fangs,
which, besides reserve teeth, are the only maxillarv teeth. There are
also teeth on the palatines, anterior portion of the pterygoids, and
on the short dentaries. The short squamosals are very loosely
attached to the skull. The prefrontals are not in contact with the
nasals. The poison-fangs are " solenoglyphous," perforated, having
a wide hole on the anterior side at the base, in connexion with the
duct of the large, paired, poison-glands, the presence of which adds
considerably to the characteristic broadness of the head. The hole
leads into a canal, which opens as a semi-canal towards the end of
the tooth. The supply of reserve teeth is indefinite; frequently one
or two are lying ready and of equal size to the functional fangs.
All the Viperidae are very poisonous and all, except the African
Atractaspis, are viviparous. They include terrestrial, semi-aquatic
and burrowing types; none of them with any signs of degradation;
on the contrary they belong to the most highly organized of snakes.
The family is cosmopolitan, excepting Madagascar and the whole of
the Australian region.
Sub-family I. Viperinae, vipers (q.v.) or adders. — Without an ex-
ternal pit between eye and nose, and the maxillary bone is not
hollowed out above. Absolutely restricted to the Old World, with
9 genera comprising about 40 species.
Sub-family 2. Crotalinae. — With a deep cavity or pit on either side
between the eye and the nose, lodged in the hollowed-out rraxillary
bone. The lining of these pits is amply supplied with branches from
the trigeminal nerves, but the function is still quite unknow r,. About
60 species of pit-vipers are recognizable. They can easily be divided
into 4 genera: Crotalus and Sistrurus with a rattle at the end of
the tail and restricted to America (see RATTLESNAKE) ; secondly,
pit-vipers without a rattle: Ancistrodon, with large shields covering
the upper surface of the head; with about 10 species, e.g. A. halys in
the Caspian district, others in the Himalayas, Ceylon and Sunda
islands. Notable American species are the following: _A. piscivorus,
the " water-viper " from Carolina and Indiana to Florida and Texas.
This creature is semi-aquatic and lives chiefly on fishes ; it grows to
a length of about 5 ft. ; the general colour is reddish to dark brown,
FIG. 12. — Lachesis viridis of India.
even blackish, with darker cross-bands or C-shaped markings; a
dark, light-edged band extends from the eye to the angle of the
mouth. The under parts are yellowish, more or less spotted or quite
black. A. contortrix the " moccasin-snake " or " copper-head," so
called because of its yellow to pink or pale-brown ground colour,
with dark crossbars or triangular marks. The under surface is
yellow to reddish, with dark specks. Full-grown specimens are
about I yd. in length. The moccasin-snake ranges fromMassachusetts
and Kansas to Florida and Texas and into Mexico, preferring swampy
localities or meadows with high grass, where it hunts for small
mammals and birds. It is easily distinguished from other North
SNAPDRAGON— SNIPE
293
American pit-vipers by the possession of a loreal shield, i.e. a shield
intercalated between the two preoculars and the posterior nasal;
below the loreal lies the pit.
The moccasin and the water-viper have occasionally been men-
tioned under the name of Trigonocephalus cenchris, one of the many
synonyms.
Lachesis has the upper surface of the head covered With very
small shields, or with scales, and contains about 40 species, in S.
and Central America, the Antilles and also in S.E. Asia. The most
ill-famed is L. s. Bothrops s. Craspedocephalus lanceolatus, which
inhabits the greater part of S. America, extending into Mexico and
the Lower Antilles, notably Martinique, Guadaloupe and Santa
Lucia, where it is known as the " Fer de Lance "; Mexicans call it
" rabo de hueso " or bone-tail, on account of the curiously coloured
and spike-like tip of the tail. It is a very quick and highly irascible
beast and even known to turn on its pursuer. It grows to a length
of 6 ft., lives in swamps, plantations, forests, on the plains and on the
hills, and is very prolific, producing dozens of young, which at birth
are 10 in. long and as vicious as their parents.
L. s. Trimeresurus gramineus s. viridis s. erythurus is one of the
Asiatic species, ranging over the whole of India to Hong-kong, Timor
and even to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. It is arboreal,
bright green above; the end of the prehensile tail is usually bright
red. (H. F. G.)
SNAPDRAGON, or ANTIRRHINUM (Gr. j5is, piws, snout,
from the shape of the flower), a plant of the natural order
Scrophulariaceae (q.v.), native to central and south Europe,
occurring as an alien on old walls in Britain. It is an old-fashioned
garden perennial of easy cultivation. Antirrhinum majus, sown
in heat, and forwarded until the general time for planting out,
becomes a summer annual, and may be so treated; but under a
slower and more hardy regime it may be sown in boxes in August,
and pricked off into other boxes and wintered in a frame. So
treated, and planted out in well-prepared beds of good friable
garden soil, it will become very showy and effective. The " Tom
Thumb " or dwarf strain, obtainable in self and mixed colours,
is a very valuable plant for bedding. The named sorts are pro-
pagated by cuttings, and wintered in a frame. Some of the
double-flowered sorts are interesting. There are forms with
white, yellow, rose, crimson, magenta, and variously mottled and
striped flowers, some of them of great beauty, but the named
sorts are too fugitive to make it desirable to record a list.
SNEEK, a town in the province of Friesland, Holland, to the
west of Sneek lake, 14 m by rail S.S.W. of Leeuwarden, with
which it is also connected by canal. Steam tramways connect
it S.E. with Heerenveen and N.W. with Bolsward and Harlingen.
Pop. (1900) 12,075. Sneek is one of the great butter and cheese
markets of the province. One of the former city gates (1615)
remains, and there are a town hall, communal buildings (1863),
court-house, weigh-house, synagogue and churches of various
denominations, in one of which is the tomb of the naval hero
of the 1 6th century, Lange, or Groote Pier (Long or Great Peter).
The horse-fair of Sneek is widely attended, and there is a consider-
able activity in trade and shipping.
SNEEZING (O. Eng. fneosung, from fneosan, to sneeze, cf.
Dutch fniezen, allied to the obsolete neeze, and ultimately to be
referred to root seen in Gr. irvtiv, to breathe; the initial s
is due to association with numerous words, such as snort, snuff,
snore. &c.), a violent expiration of air from the nose and mouth;
it is an involuntary reflex respiratory act; caused by irritation
of the nerve-endings of the mucous membrane of the nose or
by stimulation of the optic nerve by a bright light. The irrita-
tion may be due to the swelling of the nasal mucous membrane,
which occurs in catching cold, sneezing being often a premonitory
or accompanying symptom, or to foreign bodies in the nose, as
by inhalation of snuff or other " errhines " or " sternutatories."
A venerable and widespread belief survives in the custom of
saying " God bless you " when a person sneezes'. The Hindus
say " live," to which the answer " with you " is given (E.B.
Tylor, Primitive Culture, i. 101). A sneeze was considered a
sign or omen from the gods by the Greeks and Romans; it was
one of the many common everyday occurrences which if coming
at an important moment could be interpreted as presaging the
future. There are many allusions to it in classical literature,
e.g. Homer, Od. xvii. 561, Plutarch, Themist. 13, Xenophon,
Anab. iii. 2 and Catullus, Carm. 45. There are references to it
in Rabbinical literature, and it has been found in Otaheite,
Florida and the Tonga Islands.
SNELL, HANNAH (1723-1792), the "female soldier," was
born at Worcester on the 23rd of April 1723, being the daughter
of a hosier. In order to seek her husband, who had ill-treated
and abandoned her, in 1745 she donned man's attire and enlisted
as a soldier in Guise's regiment of foot, but soon deserted, and
shipped on board the sloop " Swallow " under her brother-in-
law's name of James Gray. The " Swallow " sailed in Boscawen's
fleet to the East Indies, and took part in the siege of Araapong.
Hannah served in the assault on Pondicherry and was wounded,
but she succeeded in extracting the bullet without calling in a
surgeon. When recovered she served before the mast on the
" Tartar " and the " Eltham, " but when paid off she resumed
woman's costume. Her adventures were published as The
Female Soldier, or the Surprising Adventures of Hannah Snell
(1750), and she afterwards gave exhibitions in military uniform
in London. She died insane in Bethlehem Hospital on the 8th
of February 1792.
SNELL, JOHN (1629-1679), founder of the Snell exhibitions
at Oxford, was born in 1629 in Ayrshire, Scotland^ the son of
a blacksmith. He joined the royalists during the civil war, and
fought in several battles, including Worcester. Thereafter he
took refuge in Cheshire, where he met Sir Orlando Bridgeman,
whose clerk he became, being raised to the offices of court -crier
and seal-bearer as his patron was promoted to those of judge
and Lord Keeper. Later he was secretary to the Duke of
Monmouth and had the management of his Scottish estates.
He died at Oxford cm the 6th of August 1679, leaving a bequest
for sending students from Glasgow University to an Oxford
college or hall. The Court of Chancery decided in 1693 that
Balliol should receive the beneficiaries.
SNELL, WILLEBRORD (1591-1626), commonly known as
SNELLIUS, Dutch astronomer and mathematician, was born at
Leiden in 1591. In 1613 he succeeded his father Rudolph Snell
(1546-1613) as professor of mathematics in the university of
Leiden. In 1615 he planned and carried into practice a new
method of finding the dimensions of the earth, by determining
the distance of one point on its surface from the parallel of
another, by means of a triangulation. His work Eratosthenes
Batavus, published in 1617, describes the method and gives,
as the result of his operations between Alkmaar and Bergen-op-
Zoom a degree of the meridian equal to 55,100 toises= 117,449
yds. (A later recalculation gave 57,033 toises =121,569 yds.,
after the application of some corrections to the measures indicated
by himself.) Snell also distinguished himself as a mathematician,
and discovered the law of refraction, in 1621 (see LIGHT). He
died at Leiden on the 3oth of October 1626.
In addition to the Eratosthenes Batavus he published Cydometria
sive de circuit dimenfione (1621), and Tiphys Batavus s. Histiodrpmice,
de navium cursibus et re navali (1624). He also edited Coeli el sideruni
in eo errantium observations Hassiacae (1618), containing the astro-
nomical observations of Landgrave William IV. of Hesse. A trigo-
nometry (Doctrina triangulorum,) by him was published a year after
his death.
SNIPE (O. Eng. Snite, Icel. Snipa, Dutch Snip, Ger. Schnepfe),
one of the commonest Limicoline birds, in high repute no less
for the table than for the sport it affords. It is the Scolopax
gallinago of Linnaeus, but by later writers it has been separated
from that genus, the type of which is the Woodcock (q.v.),
and has been named Gallinago caeleslis. Though considerable
numbers are still bred in the British Islands, notwithstanding the
diminished area suitable for them, most of those that fall to the
gun are undoubtedly of foreign origin, arriving from Scandinavia
towards the- close of summer or later, and many will outstay,
the winter if the weather be not too severe, while the home-bred
birds emigrate in autumn to return the following spring. Of
later years British markets have been chiefly supplied from
abroad, mostly from Holland.
The variegated plumage of the Snipe is subject to no incon-
siderable variation, especially in the extent of dark markings
on the belly, flanks, and axillaries, while examples are occasionally,
seen in which no trace of white, and hardly any of buff or grey,
294
SNIP SNAP SNOREM— SNOILSKY
is visible, the place of these tints being taken by several shades
of chocolate-brown. Such examples were long considered to
form a distinct species, the S. sabinii, but its invalidity is now
admitted. Other examples in which buff or rust-colour pre-
dominates have also been deemed distinct, and to those has been
applied the epithet russata. Again, a slight deviation from the
ordinary formation of the tail, whose rectrices normally number
14, and present a rounded termination, has led to the belief
in a species, 5. brehmi, now wholly discredited. But, setting
aside two European species, there are at least a score, belonging
to various parts of the world. Thus N. America produces
G. wilsoni, so like the English Snipe as not to be easily distin-
guished except by the possession of 16 rectrices, and Australia
has G. australis, a larger and somewhat differently coloured
bird with 18 rectrices. India, while affording a winter resort to
the common species, which besides Europe extends its breeding
range over the whole of N. Asia, has also at this season the
Pin-tailed Snipe, E. stenura, in which the number of rectrices
is still greater, varying from 20 to 28, it is said, though 22 seems
to be the usual number. This curious variability, deserving
more attention than it has yet received, only occurs in the outer
feathers of the series, which are narrow in form and extremely
stiff, there being always 10 in the middle of ordinary breadth.
Those who only know the Snipe as it shows itself in the shoot-
ing-season, when without warning it rises from the boggy ground
uttering a sharp note that sounds like scape, scape, and, after a
few rapid twists, darts away, if it be not brought down by the gun,
to disappear in the distance after a desultory flight, have no con-
ception of the bird's behaviour at breeding-time. Then, though
flushed quite as suddenly, it will fly round the intruder, at times
almost hovering over his head. But, if he have patience, he will
see it mount aloft and there execute a series of aerial evolutions of
an astounding kind. After wildly circling about, and reaching a
height at which it appears a mere speck, where it winnows a
random zigzag course, it abruptly shoots downwards and aslant,
and then as abruptly stops to regain its former elevation, and
this process it repeats many times. A few seconds after each of
these headlong descents a mysterious sound strikes his ear —
compared by some to drumming, and by others to the bleating
of a sheep or goat,1 which sound evidently comes from the bird
as it shoots downwards, and then only. It is now generally
accepted that these sounds are produced by the vibration of the
webs of the outer tail-feathers, the webs of which are modified.
A similar sound may be made by affixing those feathers to the
end of a rod and drawing them rapidly downwards in the same
position as they occupy in the bird's tail while it is performing
the feat.2 The air will also ring with loud notes that have been
syllabled tinker, tinker, tinker, while other notes in a different key,
Something like djepp, djepp, djepp rapidly uttered, may be heard
as if in response. The nest is always on the ground, and is a
rather deep hollow wrought in a tuft of herbage and lined with
dry grass-leaves. The eggs are four in number, of a dark olive
colour, blotched and spotted with rich brown. The young when
freshly hatched are beautifully clothed in down of a dark maroon,
variegated with black, white and buff.
The Double or Solitary Snipe of English sportsmen, S. major, a
larger species, also inhabits N. Europe, and may be readily re-
cognized by the white bars in its wings and by its 16 or occasion-
ally 1 8 rectrices. It has also a very different behaviour. When
flushed it rises without alarm-cry, and flies heavily. In. the
breeding season much of its love-performance is exhibited on the
ground, and the sounds to which it gives rise are of another
character; but the exact way in which its " drumming " is
effected has not been ascertained. Its gesticulations' at this time
have been well described by Professor Collett in a communication
1 Hence in many languages the Snipe is known by names signifying
" Flying Goat," " Heaven's Ram," as in Scotland by " Heather-
bleater."
4 Cf. Meves, Oefvers. K. Vet.-Akad. Fork. (1856), pp. 275-277 (transl.
Naumannia, 1858, pp. 1 16, 1 17), and Proc. Zool. Society (1858), p. 202,
with Wolley's remarks thereon, Zool. Garten (1876), pp. 204-208;
P. H. Bahr (Proc. Zool. Soc. of London, 1907, p. 12) has given a full
account of the subject, with diagrams of the modified feathers.
to H. E. Dresser's Birds of Europe (vii. 635-637). It visits
Great Britain every year at the close of summer, but in
very small numbers, and is almost always seen singly — not un-
commonly in places where no one could expect to find a Snipe.
The third species of which any details can here be given is the
Jack-3 or Half-Snipe, 5. gallinula, the smallest and most beauti-
fully coloured of the group. Without being as numerous as the
common or full Snipe, it is of frequent occurrence in Great Britain
from September to April (and occasionally both earlier and later) ;
but it breeds only, so far as is known, in N. Scandinavia and
Russia; and the first trustworthy information on that subject
was obtained by J. Wolley in June 1853, when he found several of
its nests near Muonioniska in Lapland.4 Instead of rising wildly
as do most of its allies, it generally lies so close as to let itself be
almost trodden upon, and then takes wing silently, to alight' at
a short distance and to return to the same place on the morrow.
In the breeding-season, however, it is as noisy and conspicuous
as its larger brethren while executing its aerial evolutions.
As a group the Snipes are in several respects highly specialized.
We may mention the sensitiveness of the bill, which, though to some
extent noticeable in many Sandpipers (q.v.), is in Snipes carried to
an extreme by a number of filaments, belonging to the fifth pair of
nerves, which run almost to the tip and open immediately under the
soft cuticle in a series of cells that give this portion of the surface of
the premaxillaries, when exposed, a honeycomb-like appearance.
Thus the bill becomes a most delicate organ of sensation, and by its
means the bird, while probing for food, is at once able to distinguish
the nature of the objects it encounters, though these are wholly out
of sight. So far as is known the sternum of all the Snipes, except
the Jack-Snipe, departs from the normal Limicoline formation, a fact
which tends to justify the removal of that species to a separate genus,
Limnocryptes.6 (A. N.)
SNIP SNAP SNOREM, an old game at cards, sometimes called
Earl of Coventry. There are several methods of playing, but in
the commonest a full whist pack is used and any number of players
may take part. The pack is dealt, one card at a time, and the
eldest hand places upon the table any card he likes. Each player
in his turn then tries to match the card played just before his,
making use of a prescribed formula if successful. Thus, if a king is
played, the second player lays down another king (if he can)
calling out " Snip! " The next player lays down the third king,
saying " Snap! " and the next the fourth king with the word
" Snorem. " A player not being able to pair the card played may
not discard, and the holder of " Snorem " has the privilege of
beginning the next round. The player who gets rid of all his
cards first wins a counter from his companions for each card still
held by them.
SNOILSKY, CARL JOHAN GUSTAF, COUNT (1841-1903),
Swedish poet, was born at Stockholm on the 8th of September
1841. He was educated at the Clara School, and in 1860 became
a student at Upsala. He was trained for diplomacy, which he
quitted for work at the Swedish Foreign Office. As early as
1861, under the pseudonym of " Sven Trost," he began to print
poems, and he soon became the centre of the brilliant literary
society of the capital. In 1862 he published a collection of lyrics
called Orchideer (" Orchids "). During 1864 and 1865 he was in
Madrid and Paris on diplomatic missions. It was in 1869, when
he first collected his Dikter under his own name, that Snoilsky
took rank among the most eminent contemporary poets. His
3 Though this word is clearly not intended as a nickname, such as
is the prefix which custom has applied to the Daw, Pie, Redbreast,
Titmouse or Wren, one can only guess at its origin or meaning. It
may be, as in Jackass, an indication of sex, for it is a popular belief
that the Jack-Snipe is the male of the common species; or, again, it
may refer to the comparatively small size of the bird, as the " jack "
in the game of bowls is the smallest of the balls used, and as fisher-
men call the smaller Pikes Jacks.
4 His account was published by Hewitson in May 1855 (Eggs Br.
Birds, 3rd ed., ii. pp. 356-358).
6 The so-called Painted Snipes, forming the genus Rhynchaea,
demand a few words. Four species have been described, natives
respectively of S. America, Africa, India with China, and Australia.
In all of these it appears that the female is larger and more brilliantly
coloured than the male, and in the Australian species she is further
distinguished by what in most birds is emphatically a masculine
property, though its use is here unknown — namely, a complex
trachea, while the male has that organ simple. He is also believed
to undertake the duty of incubation.
SNORRI STURLASON— SNOWDROP
295
Sonneter in 1871 increased his reputation. Then, for some years,
Snoilsky abandoned poetry, and devoted himself to the work
of the Foreign Office and to the study of numismatics. In 1876,
however, he published a translation of the ballads of Goethe.
Snoilsky had in 1876 been appointed keeper of the records, and
had succeeded Bishop Genberg as one of the eighteen of the
Swedish Academy. But in 1879 he resigned all his posts, and
left Sweden abruptly for Florence with the Baroness Ruuth-
Piper, whom he married in 1880. Count Snoilsky sent home in
1 88 1 a volume of Nya Dikter (New Poems). Two other volumes
of Dikter appeared in 1883 and 1887, and 1807; Savonarola, a
poem, in 1883, and Hvitafi-un (" The White Lady ") in 1885. In
1886 he collected his poems dealing with national subjects as
Svenska bilder (2nd ed., 1895), which ranks as a Swedish classic.
In 1891 he returned to Stockholm, and was appointed principal
librarian of the Royal Library. He died at Stockholm on the
19th ot May 1903. His literary influence in Sweden was very
great ; he always sang of joy and liberty and beauty, and in his
lyrics, more than in most modern verse, the ecstasy of youth
finds expression. He is remarkable, also, fcr the extreme
delicacy and melodiousness of his verse-forms.
His Samlade dikter were collected (Stockholm, 5 vols.) in 1903-1904.
SNORRI STURLASON (1179-1241), the celebrated Icelandic
historian, the youngest son of a chief in the VestfirOir (western
fiords), was brought up by a powerful chief, Jon Loptsson, in
Odda, who seems first to have awakened in him an interest for
history and poetry. His career begins with his marriage, which
made him a wealthy man; in 1206 he settled at Reykjaholt,
where he constructed magnificent buildings and a bath of hewn
stones, preserved to the present day, to which water was con-
ducted from a neighbouring hot spring. He early made himself
known as a poet, especially by glorifying the exploits of the
contemporary Norse kings and earls; at the same time he was
a learned lawyer, and from 1215 became the Idgsogiimadr, or
president of the legislative assembly and supreme court of Iceland.
The prominent features of his character seem to have been
cunning, ambition and avarice, combined with want of courage
and aversion from effort. By royal invitation he went in 1218
to Norway, where he remained a long time with the young king
Haakon and his tutor Earl Skuli. When, owing to disputes
between Icelandic and Norwegian merchants, Skuli thought of
a military expedition to Iceland, Snorri promised to make the
inhabitants submit to Haakon of their own free will. Snorri
himself became the lendrmadr, vassal or baron, of the king of
Norway, and held his lands as a fief under him. On his return
home Snorri sent his son to the king as a hostage, and made peace
between Norway and Iceland, but his power and influence were
used more for his own enrichment and aggrandizement — he
was logsogumadr again from 1222 to 1232 — than for the advan-
tage of the king. Haakon, therefore, stirred up strife between
Snorri's kinsman Sturla and Snorri, who had to fly from Reykja-
holt in 1236; and in 1237 he left the country and went back
to Norway. Here he joined the party of Skuli, who was meditat-
ing a revolt. Learning that his cousin Sturla in Iceland had
fallen in battle against Gissur, Snorri's son-in-law, Snorri,
although expressly forbidden by his liege lord, returned to
Iceland in 1 239 and once' more took possession of his property.
Meanwhile Haakon, who had vanquished Skuli in 1240, sent
orders to Gissur to punish Snorri for his disobedience either by
capturing him and sending him back to Norway or by putting
him to death. Gissur took the latter course, attacked Snorri at
his residence, Reykjaholt, and slew him on the 22nd of September
1241.
Snorri is the author of the great prose Edda (see EDDA), and of the
Heimskringla or Sagas of the Norwegian Kings, a connected series of
biographies of the kings of Norway down to Sverri in 1177. The
later work opens with the Ynglinga Saga, a brief history of the pre-
tended immigration into Sweden of the Aesir, of their successors in
that country, the kings of Upsala, and of the oldest Norwegian kings,
their descendants. Next come the biographies of the succeeding
Norwegian kings, the most detailed being those of the two missionary
kings Olaf Tryggvason and St Olaf. Snorri's sources were partly
succinct histories of the realm, as the chronological sketch of Ari;
Dartly more voluminous early collections of traditions, as the Noregs
Konungatal (Fagrskinna) and the Jarlasaga; partly legendary
Diographics of the two Olafs; and, in addition to these, studies and
collections which he himself made during his journeys in Norway.
His critical principles are explained in the preface, where he dwells
on the necessity of starting as much as possible from trustworthy
contemporary sources, or at least from those nearest to antiquity —
the touchstone by which verbal traditions can be tested being con-
temporary poems. He inclines to rationalism, rejecting the marvel-
lous and recasting legends containing it in a more historical spirit;
but he makes an exception in the accounts of the introduction of
Christianity into Norway and of the national saint St Olaf. Snorri
strives everywhere to impart life and vigour to his narrative, and he
ives the dialogues in the individual character of each person.
Especially in this last he shows a tendency to epigram and often uses
humorous and pathetic expressions. Besides his principal work,
he elaborated in a separate form its better and larger part, the
History of St Olaf (the great Olafs Saga). In the preface to this he
gives a brief extract of the earlier history, and, as an appendix, a
short account of St Olafs miracles after his death; here, too, he
employs critical art, as appears from a comparison with his source,
the Latin legend. See further ICELAND, Literature, and EDDA.
SNOW (in O. Eng. sndw; a common Indo-European word; cf.
in Teutonic languages, Ger. Schnee, Du. snecuw; in Slavonic
snieg', Lith. snegas; Gr. pl^a, Lat. nix, nivis, whence the Romanic
forms, Ital. neve, Fr. neige, &c. ; Ir. and Gael, sneachd; the
original sense of the root may be to moisten, cf. Skt. sneha,
moisture), that form of precipitation of water- vapour con-
densed from the atmosphere which reaches the ground in a
frozen and crystalline condition. Snow thus occurs when the
processes of condensation and fall take place at a temperature
below 32° F. The crystals, which vary greatly in form, belong
to the hexagonal system. They are formed upon a nucleus,
in the same way as a raindrop, and sometimes reach the ground
singly, but more commonly in small coherent masses or flakes.
If in its passage from the upper atmosphere snow passes through
a temperature above 32° F. it reaches the ground as sleet or rain
(according to the degree of heat encountered), and thus after a
fall of rain over lowlands, the higher parts of mountains in the
vicinity may be seen to have received the fall as snow.
See further CLIMATE and METEOROLOGY; and for the transforma-
tion of snow into ice under pressure, see GLACIER.
SNOWDON (Wyddfa, view-place, Eryri, eagle-place), the
highest elevation in N. Wales. It is formed chiefly of slates,
grits and porphyries of the Cambrian and Silurian systems.
It consists of five " ribs " converging at the summit, 3560 ft.
above sea-level. Between these lie such depressions as Cwm Glas
(blue or green vale) to the N., and Cwm y llan (clearing, town
or church vale) to the S. Snowdon is demarcated from the
surrounding hills by passes famous for their scenery, such as that
of Llanberis (q.v.) to the N.E. and Aberglaslyn to the S. These
two passes are joined by Nant Gwynnant (stream, or valley,
of the white or happy valley, or stream), skirting the S.E. flanks
of the Snowdon massif. Nant Colwyn runs N.W. to Carnarvon.
A rack-and-pinion railway (opened in 1897) ascends from Llan-
beris to the summit of the mountain (4! m.). Snowdonia, as the
locality is sometimes called, contains several lakes, e.g. Peris
and Padarn at Llanberis; Glaslyn and Llydaw between Cribgoch
(red crest) and Lliwedd; Cwcllyn and others W. of the hill itself;
and Gwynnant and Dinas (Y Ddinas) in Nantgwynnant.
SNOWDROP, Galanthus nivalis, the best known representative
of a small genus of the order Amaryllidaceae, all the species of
which have bulbs, linear leaves and erect flower-stalks, destitute
of leaves but bearing at the top a solitary pendulous bell-shaped
flower. The white perianth is six-parted, the outer three
segments being larger and more convex than the inner series.
The six anthers open by pores or short slits. The ovary is three-
celled, ripening into a three-celled capsule. The snowdrop is a
doubtful native of Great Britain, but is largely cultivated for
market in Lincolnshire. There are numerous varieties, differing
in the size of the flower and the period of flowering. Other
distinct species of snowdrop are the Crimean snowdrop, G.
plicatus, with broad leaves folded like a fan, and G. Elwesii, a
native of the Levant, with large flowers, the three inner segments
of which have a much larger and more conspicuous green blotch
than the commoner kinds. All the species thrive in almost
296
SNOW-LEOPARD—SOAP
any soil or position, and when once planted should be left to
themselves.
SNOW-LEOPARD, or OUNCE (Fdis uncia,} a large member
of the cat family, from the high mountain regions of Central Asia.
It resembles the leopard in general conformation, but has longer
fur, grey in colour, marked with large dark rosettes. The
dimensions of the head and body are about 4 ft. 4 in., tail 3 ft.,
and the height 2 ft. This animal lives among rocks, and preys
upon wild sheep and goats, and probably large rodents or birds.
It carries off sheep, goats and dogs from villages, and even kills
ponies, but, it is said, has never been known to attack man
(Blanford). Examples shown in the Zoological Gardens of
London have been fairly tame and playful.
SNOW-LINE. In the higher latitudes, and in the most
elevated parts of the surface of the earth, the atmosphere may be
normally so cold that precipitation is chiefly in the form of snow,
which lies in great part unmelted. The snow-line is the imaginary
line, whether in latitude or in altitude, above which these
conditions exist. In the extreme polar regions they exist at sea-
level, but below lat. 78° the snow-line begins to rise, since at the
lower elevations the snow melts in summer. In N. Scandinavia
the line is found at about 3000 ft. above the sea, in the Alps
at about 8500 ft., and on high mountains in the tropics at about
18,000 to 19,000 ft. These figures, however, can only be approxi-
mate, as many considerations render it impossible to employ the
term " snow-line " as more than a convenient generalization.
SNOW-SHOES, a form of footgear devised for travelling over
snow. Nearly every American Indian tribe has its own particular
shape of shoe, the simplest and most primitive being those of the
far north. The Eskimos possess two styles, one being triangular
in shape and about 18 in. in length, and the other almost circular.
Southward the shoe becomes gradually narrower and longer, the
largest being the hunting snow-shoe of the Crees, which is nearly
6 ft. long and turned up at the toe. Of snow-shoes worn by
people of European race that used by lumbermen is about 3! ft.
long and broad in proportion, while the tracker's shoe is over
S ft. long and very narrow. This form has been copied by the
Canadian snow-shoe clubs, who wear a shoe about 35 ft. long
and 15 to 1 8 in. broad, slightly turned up at the toe and terminat-
ing in a kind of tail behind. This is made very light for racing
purposes, but much stouter for touring or hunting.
Snow-shoes are made of a single strip of some tough wood,
usually hickory, curved round and fastened together at the ends
and supported in the middle by a light cross-bar, the space
within the frame thus made being' filled with a dose webbing of
dressed caribou or neat's-hide strips, leaving a small opening
just behind the cross-bar for the toe of the moccasined foot. They
are fastened to the moccasin by leather thongs, sometimes by
tuckles. The method of walking is to lift the shoes slightly and
slide the overlapping inner edges over each other, thus avoiding
the unnatural and fatiguing " straddle-gait " that would other-
wise be necessary. Immoderate snow-shoeing leads to serious
lameness of the feet and ankles which the Canadian voyageurs
call mal de raquette. Snow-shoe racing is very common in the
Canadian snow-shoe clubs, and one of the events is a hurdle-race
over hurdles 3 ft. 6 in. high. Owing to the thick forests of
America the snow-shoe has been found to be more suitable for
use than the Norwegian ski, which is, however, much used in
the less-wooded districts.
SNUFF (from " to snuff, " i.e. to inhale, to draw in through the
nose; cf. Dutch snuf, scent, Ger. Schnupfen, a cold, catarrh, and
Eng. " snuffle, " " sniff, " &c.), the name of a powdered prepara-
tion of tobacco used for inhalation (for the manufacture see
TOBACCO). The practice of inhaling snuff became common in
England in the lyth century, and throughout the i8th century
it was universal. At first each quantity inhaled was fresh grated
(Fr. rdper), whence the coarser kinds were later known as
" rappee. " This entailed the snuff-taker carrying with him
a grater with a small spoon at .one end and a box to hold the
grated snuff at the other. Early iSth-century graters made
of ivory and other material are in existence. Later the box and
the grater were separated. The art and craft of the miniature
painter, the enameller, jeweller and gold- and silver-smith was
bestowed upon the box. The humbler snuff-takers were content
with boxes of silver, brass or other metal, horn, tortoise-shell or
wood. The mull (q.v.), a silver-mounted ram's head, is a large
table snuff-box. Though " snuff-taking " ceased to be fashion-
able at the beginning of the iQth century, the gold and jewelled
snuff-box has continued to be a typical gift of sovereigns to those
whom they delight to honour.
This word " snuff " must be distinguished from that meaning
the charred inch of a candle or lamp, which is a variant of " snip "
or " snop, " to cut off, trim, cf. Dan. snubbe. Constant trimming
or snuffing of candles was a necessity until obviated by the
modern methods of candle manufacture, and the snuffers con-
sisted of a pair of scissors with a closed box forming a receptacle
for the charred wick cut off; the snuffers usually had three small
feet which allowed them to stand on a tray. Made of silver,
silver-gilt or other metal, " snuffers " were formerly a decorative
article of plate in the equipment of a household. There is a
beautiful example of silver snuffers with enamel decorations in
the British Museum. These belonged to Cardinal Bainbridge
and date from the reign of Henry VIII.
SNYDERS, FRANZ (1570-1657), Flemish painter of animals
and still life, was born and died at Antwerp. In 1593 he was
studying under Pieter Breughel the younger, and afterwards
received instruction from Hendrick van Balen, the first master
of Van Dyck. He devoted himself to painting flowers, fruit and
subjects of still life, but afterwards turned to animal-painting,
and executed with the greatest skill and spirit hunting pieces
and combats of wild animals. His composition is rich and varied,
his drawing correct and vigorous, his touch bold and thoroughly
expressive of the different textures of furs and skins. His
excellence in this department excited the admiration of Rubens,
who frequently employed him to paint animals, fruit and still life
in his own pictures, and he assisted Jordaens in a similar manner.
In the lion and boar hunts which bear the name of Snyders the
hand of Rubens sometimes appears. He was appointed principal
painter to the archduke Albert, governor of the Low Countries,
for whom he executed some of his finest works. One of these, a
" Stag-Hunt, " was presented to Philip III., who commissioned
the artist to paint several subjects of the chase, which are still
preserved in Spain.
SOANE, SIR JOHN (1753-1837), English architect and art
collector, was born near Reading of a humble family whose name
of Swan he afterwards altered to Soan or Soane. His talent as
a boy attracted the attention of George Dance, junior, the archi-
tect, who with other friends helped him on. He won the Royal
Academy's silver (1772) and gold (1776) medals, and a travelling
studentship, and went to Italy to study (1777-1780). Returning
to England he got into practice as an architect, and in 1784
married a rich wife. He became architect to the Bank of England,
which he practically rebuilt in its present form, and did other
important public work. He became an A.R.A in 1795, and R.A.
in 1802, and professor of architecture to the Royal Academy in
1806. In 1831 he was knighted. In his house in Lincoln's Inn
Fields he brought together a valuable antiquarian museum (now
the Soane Museum), which in 1835 hepresented to the nation with
an endowment; and there he died in 1837. (See MUSEUMS.)
SOAP, a chemical compound or mixture of chemical compounds
resulting from the interaction of fatty oils and fats with alkalis.
In a scientific definition the compounds of fatty acids with basic
metallic oxides, lime, magnesia, lead oxide, &c., should also be
included under soap; but, as these compounds are insoluble in
water, while the very essence of a soap in its industrial relations
is solubility, it is better to speak of the insoluble compounds
as " plasters, " limiting the name " soap " as the compounds of
fatty acids with soda and potash. Soap both as a medicinal and
as a cleansing agent was known to Pliny (H.N. xxviii. 51),
who speaks of two kinds — hard and soft — as used by the Germans.
He mentions it as originally a Gallic invention for giving a bright
hue to the hair (" rutilandis capillis "). There is reason to
believe that soap came to the Romans from Germany, and
that the detergents in use in earlier times and mentioned as soap
SOAP
297
in the Old Testament (Jer. ii. 22; Mai. iii. 2, &c.) refer to the
ashes of plants and other such purifying agents (comp. vol. x.
p. 697).
Soap appears to have been first made from goat's tallow and
beech ash; in the i3th century the manufacture was established
at Marseilles from olive oil, and in England during the next
century. The processes and extent of the manufacture were
revolutionized at about the beginning of the igth century by
Chevreul's classical investigations on the fats and oils, and by
Leblanc's process for the manufacture of caustic soda from
common salt.
Previous to Chevreul's researches on the fats (1811-1823) it was
believed that soap consisted simply of a binary compound of fat and
alkali. Claude J. Geoffrey in 1741 pointed put that the fat or oil
recovered from a soap solution by neutralization with a mineral acid
differs from the original fatty substance by dissolving readily in
alcohol, which is not the case with ordinary fats and oils. The
significance of this observation was overlooked ; and equally un-
heeded was a not less important discovery by Scheele in 1783. In
preparing lead plaster by boiling olive oil with oxide of lead and a
little water — a process palpably analogous to that of the soap-boiler —
he obtained a sweet substance which, called by himself " Olsuss "
(" principium dulce oleorum "), is now known as " glycerin."
These discoveries of Geoffroy and Scheele formed the basis of
Chevreul's researches by which he established the constitution of oils
and the true nature of soap. In the article OILS it is pointed out
that all fatty oils and fats are mixtures of glycerides, that is, of
bodies related to the alcohol glycerin C3H6(OH)3, and some fatty acid
such as palmitic acid (Ci6H3iO2)H. Under suitable conditions
C3H5(OH)3+3(CI6H3102)H give C3H6(C«H31O2)3+3H2O
Glycerin. Palmitic Acid. Palmitin. Water.
The corresponding decomposition of a glyceride into an acid and
glycerin takes place when the glyceride is distilled in superheated
steam, or by boiling in water mixed with a suitable proportion of
caustic potash or soda. But in this case the fatty acid unites with
the alkali into its potash or soda salt, forming a soap —
C3H6(C,6H31O2)3+3NaOH=3NaCI6H3iO2+C3H5(OH)3
Palmitin. Caustic Soda. Soap. Glycerin.
Of the natural fats or glycerides contained in oils the most important
in addition to palmitin are stearin and olein, and these it may be
sufficient to regard as the principal fatty bodies concerned in soap-
making.
The general characters of a soap are a certain greasiness to the
touch, ready solubility in water, with formation of viscid solutions
which on agitation yield a tenacious froth or " lather," an indisposi-
tion to crystallize, readiness to amalgamate with small proportions
of hot water into homogeneous slimes, which on cooling set into
jellies or more or less consistent pastes. Soaps give an alkaline
reaction and have a decided acrid taste; in a pure condition — a
state never reached in practice — they have neither smell nor colour.
Almost without exception potash soaps, even if made from the solid
fatty acids, are " soft," and soda soaps, although made with fluid
olein, are " hard " ; but there are considerable variations according
to the prevailing fatty acid in the compound. Almost all soda soaps
are precipitated from their watery solutions by the addition of a
sufficiency of common salt. Potash soap with the same reagent
undergoes double decomposition — a proportion being changed into a
soda soap with the formation of potassium chloride. Ammonia soaps
have also been made, but with little commercial success; in 1906
H. Jackson patented the preparation of ammonium oleate directly
in the washing water, and it is claimed that for cleansing articles it is
only necessary to immerse them in the water containing the pre-
paration and then rinse.
Soap when dissolved in a large amount of water suffers hydrolysis,
with formation of a precipitate of acid salt and a solution con-
taining free alkali. The reaction, however, is very complicated.
Chevreul found that a neutral salt soap hydrplysed to an acid salt,
free alkali, and a small amount of fatty acid. Rotondi in 1885,
however, regarded a neutral soap as hydrolysing to a basic salt,
soluble in both hot and cold water, and an acid salt, insoluble in cold
and sparingly soluble in hot. Chevreul's views were confirmed in
1894 by Krafft and Stern. The extent to which a soap is hydrolysed
depends upon the acid and on the concentration of the solution ; it is
also affected by the presence of metallic salts, e.g. of calcium and
magnesium. As to the detergent action of a soap, Berzelius held that
it was due to the free alkali liberated with water; but it is difficult to
see why a solution which has just thrown off most of its fatty acids
should be disposed to take up even a glyceride, and, moreover, on
this theory, weak cold solutions, in which the hydrolysis is consider-
able, should be the best cleansers, whilst experience points to the
use of hot concentrated solutions. It is more likely that the cleansing
power of soap is due to the inherent property of its solution to
emulsionize fats. This view is supported by Hillycr (Jour. Amer.
Chem. Soc., 1903, p. 524), who concluded that the cleansing power
depended upon several factors, viz. the emulsionizing power, the
xxv. 10 a
property of penetrating oily fabrics, and lubricating impurities so
that they can be readily washed away.
Resin soaps are .-propounds of soda or potash with the complex
acids (chiefly abietic) of which coniferous resins consist. Their
formation is not due to a true process of saponification ; but they
occupy an important place in compound soaps.
Manufacture. — Numerous varieties of soaps are made; the
purposes to which they are applied are varied; the materials
employed embrace a considerable range of oils, fats and other
bodies; and the processes adopted undergo many modifications.
As regards processes of manufacture soaps may be made by the
direct combination of fatty acids, separated from oils, with
alkaline solutions. In the manufacture of stearin for candles, &c.,
the fatty matter is decomposed, and the liquid olein, separated
from the solid fatty acids, is employed as an ingredient in soap-
making. A soap so made is not the result of saponification but
of a simple combination, as is the case also with resin soaps.
All other soaps result from the combination of fatty oils and fat
with potash or soda solutions under conditions which favour
saponification. The soap solution which results from the
combination forms soap-size and is a mixture of soap with water,
the excess alkali, and the glycerin liberated from the oil. In
such condition ordinary soft soaps and certain kinds of hard soap
are brought to the market. In curd soaps, however, which
form the basis of most household soap, the uncombined alkali
and the glycerin are separated by " salting out, " and the soap
in this condition contains about 30% of water. Soap may be
framed and finished in this state, but almost invariably it receives
a further treatment called " refining " or " fitting," in which
by remelting with water, with or without the subsequent addition
of other agents to harden the finished product, the soap may be
made to contain from 60 to 70 % of water and kept present a firm
hard texture.
Almost any fatty substance can be employed in soap-making; but
the choice is naturally restricted by the price of the fat and also the
quality of the soap desired. The most important of the animal fats
are those of the ox and hog, and of the vegetable oils cotton-seed and
coco-nut; it is also to be remembered that resin, although not a
fat, is also important in soap-making. Ox and sheep tallow, with
the addition of resin, are the primary materials for making the hard
yellow or primrose soaps; these tallows are often adulterated. The
cheaper mottled and brown soaps have for their basis bone fat, ob-
tained by treating bones with superheated steam or other methods.
Lard yields lard oil, which is mainly applied in making hard toilet
soaps. Curd soap and London grey mottled are prepared from
kitchen or ship fat, whilst fuller's fat is employed in the manufacture
of soft soaps. Of the vegetable oils, in addition to cotton-seed and
coco-nut, olive oil is the basis of soaps for calico printers and silk
dyers; castor oil yields transparent soaps (under suitable treatment),
whilst crude palm oil, with bone fat, is employed for making brown
soap, and after bleaching it yields ordinary pale or mottled. The
alkalis are used almost exclusively in the condition of caustic lyes —
solutions of their respective hydrates in water. Caustic soda is now
obtained direct from the soda manufacturer, and one operation,
causticizing the soda, is thus spared the soap-boiler. Potash lyes
also may be bought direct, but in some cases they are sharpened or
causticized by the soap-boiler himself from the carbonate.
The processes of soap manufacture may be classified (a) according
to the temperatures employed into (i) cold processes and (2) boiling
processes, or (b) according to the nature of the starting material —
acid or oil and fat — and the relative amount of alkali, into (l) direct
saturation of the fatty acid with alkali, (2) treating the fat with a
definite amount of alkali with no removal of unused lye, (3) treating
the fat with an indefinite amount of alkali, also with no separation of
unused lye, (4) treating the fat with an indefinite amount of alkali
with separation of waste lye. In the second classification (2) is
typical of the " cold " process, whilst (l), (3), (4) are effected by the
" boiling " process.
The cold process, which is only applicable to the manufacture of
soaps from readily saponifiable oils, such as those of the coco-nut
oil group and also from castor oil, is but little used. In it the oils at
35° C. are stirred with concentrated alkali in an iron or wooden tub,
whereupon saponification ensues with a development of some heat ;
the mixture being well agitated. After a few hours the mixture
becomes solid, and finally transparent; at this point the perfume is
added, and the product framed and crutched (see under Marine
Soap). By blending the coco-nut oil with other less saponifiable
substances such as tallow, lard, cotton-seed oil, &c., and effecting the
mixing and saponification at a slightly higher temperature, soaps are
obtained which resemble milled toilet soaps. Soaps made by this
process contain the glycerin originally present in the oil, but, in view
298
SOAP
of their liability to contain free alkali and unsaponified oil, the
process has been largely given up.
The process of soap-boiling is carried out in large iron boilers
called " soap pans " or " coppers," some of which have capacity for a
charge of 30 tons or more. The pan proper is surmounted by a
great cone or hopper called a curb, to provide for the foaming up of
the boiling mass and to prevent loss from overflowing. Formerly
the pans were heated by open firing from below; but now the
almost universal practice is to boil by steam injected from per-
forated pipes coiled within the pan, such injection favouring the
uniform heating of the mass and causing an agitation favourable to
the ultimate mixture and saponification of the materials. Direct
firing is used for the second boiling of the soap mixture; but for
this superheated steam may with advantage be substituted, either
applied by a steam-jacket round the pan or by a closed coil of pipe
within it. In large pans a mechanical stirring apparatus is pro-
vided, which in some cases, as in Morfit's steam " twirl," is formed
of the steam-heating tubes geared to rotate. Autoclaves, in which
the materials are boiled under pressure, are also employed for certain
soaps.
The process of manufacturing soaps by boiling fatty acids with
caustic alkalis or sodium carbonate came into practice with the de-
velopment of the manufacture of candles by saponifying fats, for it
provided a means whereby the oleic acid, which is valueless for candle
making, could be worked up. The combination is effected in open
vats heated by a steam coil and provided with a stirring appliance ;
if soda ash be used it is necessary to guard against boiling over.
(See under Curd Soap.) '
Curd Soap. — This variety is manufactured by boiling the fat with
alkali and removing the unused lye, which is afterwards worked up
for glycerin. The oil mixture used differs in the several manu-
facturing countries, and the commercial name of the product is
correspondingly varied. In Germany tallow is the principal fat;
in France olive oil occupies the chief place and the product is known
as Marseilles or Castile soap; and in England tallow and palm oil
are largely used. But in all countries a mixture of several oils
enters into the composition of curd soaps and the proportions used
have no fixity. For each ton of soap to be made from 12 to 16 cwt.
of oil is required. The soap pan is charged with the tallow or other
fat, and open steam is turned on. So soon as the tallow is melted a
quantity of weak lye is added, and the agitation of the injected
steam causes the fat and lye to become intimately mixed and pro-
duces a milky emulsion. As the lye becomes absorbed, a condition
indicated by the taste of the goods, additional quantities of lye of
increasing strength are added. After some time the contents of
the pan begin to clear and become in the end very transparent.
Lye still continues to be poured in till a sample tastes distinctly
alkaline— a test which indicates that the whole of the fatty acids
have been taken up by and combined with the alkali. Then without
further addition of alkali the boiling is continued for a few minutes,
when the soap is ready for salting out or " graining." Either common
salt or strong brine in measured quantity is added to the charge, and,
the soap being insoluble in such salt solution, a separation of con-
stituents takes place: the soap collects on the surface in an open
granular condition, and the spent lye sinks to the bottom after it
has been left for a short time to settle. Suppose that a pure soap
without resin is to be made — a product little seen in the market —
the spent lye is run off, steam is again turned on, pure water or very
weak lye run in, and the contents boiled up till the whole is thin, close
and clear. The soap is from this again grained off or salted out, and
the underlye so thrown down carries with it coloured impurities
which may have been in the materials or which arise from contact with
the boiler. Such washing process may have to be repeated several
times when impure materials have been used. The spent lye of the
washing being drained off, the soap is now " boiled for strength."
Steam is turned on, and, the mass being brought to a clear condition
with weak lye or water, strong lye is added and the boiling continued
with close steam till the lye attains such a state of concentration
that the soap is no longer soluble in it, and it will separate from
the caustic lye as from a common salt solution. The contents of
the pan are once more allowed to cool and settle, and the soap as
now formed constitutes a pure curd coap, carrying with it some pro-
portion of uncombined alkali, but containing the minimum amount
of water. It may be skimmed off the underlye and placed direct
in the frames for solidification ; but that is a practice scarcely at all
followed, the addition of resin soap in the pan and the subsequent
" crutching in " of silicate of soda and adulterant mixings being
features common to the manufacture. The lye from the strengthen-
ing boil contains much alkali and is used in connexion with other
boilings.
Mottled Soap. — A curd soap prepared from kitchen fat or bone
grease always carries with it into the cooling frame a considerable
amount of coloured impurity, such as iron sulphate, &c. When it is
permitted to cool rapidly the colouring matter remains uniformly
disseminated throughout the mass; but when means are taken to
cause the soap to cool and solidify slowly a segregation takes place :
the stearate and palmitate form a semi-crystalline solid, while the
oleate, solidifying more slowly, comes by itself into translucent veins,
in which the greater part of the coloured matter is drawn. In this
way curd, mottled or marbled soap is formed, and such mottled
appearance was formerly highly valued as an indication of freedom
from excess of water or other adulteration, because in fitted soaps
the impurities are either washed out or fall to the bottom of the
mass in cooling. Now, however, the mottled soaps, blue and grey,
are produced by working colouring matter, ultramarine for blue,
and manganese dioxide for grey, into the soap in the frame, and
mottling is very far from being a certificate of excellence of quality.
Yellow Soap consists of a mixture of any hard fatty soap with a
variable proportion — up to 40 % or more — of resin soap. That sub-
stance by itself has a tenacious gluey consistence, and its inter-
mixture in excess renders the resulting compound soft and greasy.
The ordinary method of adding resin consists in stirring it in small
fragments into the fatty soap in the stage of clear-boiling; but a
better result is obtained by separately preparing a fatty soap and
the resin soap, and combining the two in the pan after the underlye
has been salted out and removed from the fatty soap. The compound
then receives its strengthening boil, after which it is fitted by boiling
with added wacer or weak lye, continuing the boil till by examination
of a sample the proper consistency has been reached. On settling
the product forms three layers: the uppermost is a thin crust of soap
which is worked up again in the pan; the second is the desired soap;
next there is a dark-coloured weak soap termed nigre, which, because
it contains some soap and alkali is saved for future use; underneath
these is a solution of alkaline salts with a little free alkali.
Treatment of Settled Soap. — The upper layer having been removed,
the desired soap is ladled out or ran off to a crutcher, which is an iron
pan provided with hand or mechanical stirring appliances. It is
here stirred till it becomes ropy, and the perfume, colour or any other
substance desired in the soap is added. The soap is now ready for
framing. The frames into which hard soaps are ladled for cooling
and solidification consist of rectangular boxes made of iron plates
and bound and clamped together in a way that allows the sides to
be removed when required; wooden frames are used in the case of
mottled soaps. The solidification is a very gradual process, depend-
ing, of course, for its completion on the size of the block ; but before
cutting into bars it is essential that the whole should be set and
hardened through and through, else the cut bars would not hold
together. Many ingenious devices for forming bars have been pro-
duced; but generally a strong frame is used, across which steel wires
are stretched at distances equal to the size of the bars to be made,
the blocks being first cut into slabs and then into bars.
Marine Soap. — These soaps are so named because they are not
insoluble in a strong solution of salt ; hence they form a lather and
can be used for washing with sea-water. Being thus soluble in salt
water it cannot, of course, be salted out like common soaps; but if a
very concentrated salt solution is used precipitation is effected, and a
curd soap is separated so hard and refractory as to be practically
useless. Coco-nut soap (see above) is typical of this class. Its
property of absorbing large proportions of water, up to 80 %, and yet
present the appearance of a hard solid body, makes the material a
basis for the hydrated soaps, smooth and marbled, in which water,
sulphate of soda, and other alkaline solutions, soluble silicates,
fuller's earth, starch, &c. play an important and bulky part. Coco-
nut soap also forms a principal ingredient in compound soaps meant
to imitate curd and yellow soaps. Two principal methods of prepar-
ing such compound soaps are employed. In the first way the ordinary
oil and the coco nut oil are mixed and saponified together as de-
scribed above. According to the second plan, the ordinary oil is
treated as for the preparation of a curd soap, and to this the coco-
nut soap separately saponified is added in the pan and both are boiled
together till they form a homogeneous soap.
Silicate Soaps. — A further means of enabling a soap to contain
large proportions of water and yet present a firm consistence is found
in the use of silicate of soda. The silicate in the form of a concen-
trated solution is crutched or stirred into the soap in a mechanical
mixing machine after the completion of the saponification, and it
appears to enter into a distinct chemical combination with the soap.
While silicate soaps bear heavy watering, the soluble silicate itself is a
powerful detergent, and it possesses certain advantages when used
with hard waters.
Soft Soap. — Soft soaps are made with potash lyes, although in
practice a small quantity of soda is also used to give the soap some
consistence. There is no separation of underlyes in potash soap,
consequently the product contains the whole constituents of the oils
used, as theoperation of salting out is quite impracticable owing to
the double decomposition which results from the action of salt, pro-
ducing thereby a hard principally soda soap with formation of
potassium chloride. Owing to this circumstance it is impossible to
fit " or in any way purify soft soap, and all impurities which go into
the pan of necessity enter into the finished product. The making of
soft soap, although thus a much less complex process than hard soap
making, is one that demands much skill and experience for its success.
From the conditions of the manufacture care must be taken to regu-
late the amount and strength of the alkali in proportion to the oil
used, and the degree of concentration to which the boiling ought to
be continued has to be determined with close observation.
Toilet Soaps, &c. — Soaps used in personal ablution in no way
differ from the soaps previously alluded to, and may consist of any
of the varieties. It is of consequence that they should, as far as
possible, be free from excess of alkali and all other salts and foreign
SOAP-BARK— SOBAT
299
ingredients which may have an injurious effect on the skin. The
manufacturer of toilet soap generally takes care to present his wares
in convenient form and of agreeable appearance and smell ; the more
weighty duty of having them free from uncombined alkali is in many
cases entirely overlooked. Transparent soaps are prepared by dis-
solving ordinary soap in strong alcohol and distilling off the greater
portion of the alcohol till the residue comes to the condition of a
thick transparent jelly. This, when cast into forms and allowed to
harden and dry slowly, comes out as transparent soap. A class of
transparent soap may also be made by the cold process, with the use
of coco-nut oil, castor oil and sugar. It generally contains a large
amount of uncombined alkali, and that, with its unpleasant odour of
coco-nut oil, makes it a most undesirable soap for personal use.
Toilet soaps of common quality are perfumed by simple melting and
stirring into the mass some cheap odorous body that is not affected by
alkalis under the influence of heat. The finer soaps are perfumed by
the cold method ; the soap is shaved down to thin slices, and the
essential oil kneaded into and mixed with it by special machinery,
after which it is formed into cakes by pressure in suitable moulds.
The greater quantity of high-class toilet soaps are now made by a
milling process. A high class soap, which after framing contains
about 30 % of water, is brought down to a water content of 1 1-14 %
by drying in chambers through which warm air is circulated. The
soap is now milled in the form of ribbons with the perfume and colour-
ing matter, and the resulting strips are welded into bars by forcing
through a heated nozzle. The bars are then cut or moulded into
tablets, according to the practice of the manufacturer.
Glycerin soap ordinarily consists of about equal parts of pure
hard soap and glycerin (the latter valuable for its emollient pro-
perties). The soap is melted by heat, the glycerin is stirred in, and
the mixture strained and poured into forms, in which it hardens
but slowly into a transparent mass. With excess of glycerin a fluid
soap is formed, soap being soluble in that body, and such fluid soap
has only feeble lathering properties. Soap containing small propor-
tions of glycerin, on the other hand, forms a very tenacious lather,
and when soap bubbles of an enduring character are desired glycerin
is added to the solution. Soaps are also prepared in which large
proportions of fine sharp sand, or of powdered pumice, are incorpor-
ated, and these substances, by their abrading action, powerfully
assist the detergent influence of the soap on hands much begrimed
by manufacturing operations.1
Medicated soaps, first investigated scientifically by Unna of
Hamburg in 1886, contain certain substances which exercise a specific
influence on the skin. A few medicated soaps are prepared for
internal use, among which are croton soap and jalap soap, both
gentler cathartics than the uncompounded medicinal principles.
Medicated soaps for external use are only employed in cases of skin
ailments, as prophylactic washes and as disinfectant soaps. Among
the principal varieties are those which contain carbolic acid and other
ingredients of coal tar, salicylic acid, petroleum, borax, camphor,
iodine, mercurial salts, sulphur and tannin. Arsenical soap is very
much employed by taxidermists for the preservation of the skins of
birds and mammals.
Miscellaneous Soaps. — The so-called " floating soaps " are soaps
made lighter than water either by inserting cork or a metallic plate
so as to form an air space within the tablet. The more usual method
is to take milling soap, neutralize it with sodium bicarbonate or a
mixture of fatty acids, and, after perfuming, it is aerated by mixing
the hot soap with air in a specially designed crutcher. Shaving soaps,
which must obviously be free from alkali or any substance which
irritates the skin, are characterized by readily forming a permanent
lather. This property is usually obtained by mixing soft and hard
soaps, or, more rarely, by adding gum tragacanth to a hard soap.
In the textile trades the wool scourer employs a neutral olive-oil soap,
or, on account of its cheapness, a neutral curd or curd mottled
brand; the cotton cleanser, on the other hand, uses an alkaline soap,
but for cleaning printed cottons a neutral olive-oil curd soap is used,
for, in this case, free alkali and resin are objectionable; olive-oil
soap, free from caustic alkali, but often with sodium carbonate, is
also used in cleansing silk fibres, although hard soaps free from resin
are frequently employed for their cheapness. Soaps of smaller
moment are the pearl ash soaps used for removing tarry stains;
ox-gall soaps for cleaning carpets; magnesia, rouge and chalk soaps
for cleaning plate, &c.
Soap Analysis. — The most important points in soap analysis are
(i) determination of the fatty matter, (2) of the total alkali, (3) of the
substances insoluble in water, (4) of the water. The first is carried
out by saponifying the soap with acid in the heat when the fatty
acids come to the surface. If it fails to form a hard cake on cooling,
a known weight of wax may be added and the product re-heated.
The cake on weighing gives the free acid. The total alkali is de-
termined by incinerating a weighed sample in a platinum dish, dis-
solving the residue in water, filtering and titrating the filtrate with
standard acid. The residue on the filter paper gives (3) the sub-
stances insoluble in water. The water in a soap is rarely directly
determined ; when it is, the soap, in the form of shavings, is heated
to 105° C. until the weight is constant, the loss giving the amount of
" Soap powders " and " soap extracts " are powdered mixtures
of soaps, soda ash or ordinary sodium carbonate.
water. With genuine soaps, • however, it suffices to calculate the
fatty acids as anhydrides and add to this the amount of alkalis, and
estimate the water by difference. The complete analysis involves an
examination of the fatty matter, of the various forms in which the
alkalis are present — free and combined glycerin, &c.
Commerce. — Marseilles has long been recognized as the most im-
portant centre of the soap trade, a position that city originally
achieved through its ready command of the supplies of olive oil.
The city is still very favourably situated for obtaining supplies
of oils both local and foreign, including sesame, ground nut, castor
oil, &c. In England, during the reign of Charles I., a monopoly of
soap- making was farmed to a corporation of soap-boilers in London —
a proceeding which led to serious complications. From 1712 to 1853
an excise duty ranging from id. to 3d. was levied on soap made in
the United Kingdom, and that heavy impost (equal when 3d. to
more than cost) greatly impeded the development of the industry.
In r793» when the excise duty was 2jd. on hard and I jd. on soft soap,
the revenue yielded was a little over £400,000; in 1815 it was almost
£750,000; in 1835, when the duty was levied at ifd. and id. re_s-
pectively (and when a drawback was allowed for soap used in
manufactures), the revenue was almost £1,000,000; and in 1852, the
last year in which the duty was levied, it amounted to £1,126,046,
with a drawback on exportation amounting to £271,000.
Medicine. — Two preparations of hard soap (sodium oleate), made
by acting on olive oil with caustic soda, are used in medicine: (i)
Emplastrum saponis, made with lead plaster; (2) Pilula saponis
composite, which contains one in five parts of opium. Soft or green
soap (potassium oleate), made by acting on olive oil with caustic
potash, is also used ; its preparation (Linamentum saponis) is known as
opodeldoc. Curd soap is also used, and is chiefly a stearate of sodium.
The chief use of hard soap is in enemata, and as a suppository in
children suffering from constipation ; it also forms the basis of many
pills; given in warm water it forms a ready emetic in cases of
poisoning. Soft soap is used by dermatologists in the treatment of
chronic eczema, and opodeldoc is a domestic remedy for stiffness and
sprains. Medicated soaps are made by adding the drug to either
hard soap or curd soap in the desired proportions. Useful com-
binations are: borax 10%, carbolic acid 5%, ichthyol 5%, sublimed
sulphur 10% thymol 2i%, &c.
See L. L. Lamborn, Modern Soaps, Candles and Glycerin (1906);
W. H. Simmons and H. A. Appleton, The Handbook of Soap Manu-
facture (1908) ; also J. Lewkowitsch, Oils, Fats and Waxes.
SOAP-BARK, the inner bark of Quillaja saponaria, a large
tree which grows in Chile. Reduced to powder, it is employed as
a substitute for soap, since it forms a lather with water, owing to
the presence of a glucoside saponin, sometimes distinguished as
Quillai saponin. The same, or a closely similar substance, is
found in soapwort (Saponaria officinalis),'m senega root (Polygala
senega) and in sarsaparilla; it appears to be chemically related
to digitonin, which occurs in digitalis. The saponins (with few
exceptions), have the general formula (CnH2n-gOio, and by the
action of dilute acids they are hydrolysed into sugars and
sapogenins, which are usually inert pharmacologically. An
alternative name for them, and especially for those which are
pharmacologically active, is sapotoxins; on this nomenclature the
hydrolytic products are termed saponins. Applied as a snuff
to the mucous membrane of the nose, saponin (either in soap-
bark or in senega root) promotes a violent sneezing. Solutions
injected under the skin are violent local irritants and general
depressants.
SOBAT, a river of N.E. Africa, the most southerly of the
great eastern affluents of the Nile. It is formed by the
junction of various streams which rise in the S.W. of the Abys-
sinian highlands and N.W. of Lake Rudolf. The length of the
Sobat, reckoning from the source of the Baro, the chief upper
stream, to the confluence with the Nile is about 460 m. The Baro
rises in about 36° 10' E., 7° 50' N. at an altitude of some 7000 ft.
It has a general W. direction with a slight N. tendency. It is
joined by numerous other streams which also rise on the Abys-
sinian plateau. These mountain torrents descend the escarpment
of the plateau between great walls of rock, the Baro dropping
3000 ft. in 45 m. It then flows through a narrow gorge at an
altitude of about 2000 ft., the mountains on either side towering
3000 to 4000 ft. above the river bed. Just east of 35' E. the
Birbir, descending from the plateau, joins the Baro and brings
with it a large volume of water. Some 40 m. lower down the
hills are left behind, the rocks and rapids in the bed of the Baro
cease, and the river flows W. across a vast plain with many
windings and several divergent channels. From Gambela, a
town on its N. bank 20 m. below the Birbir junction, the river is
300
SOBRAON— SOCIAL CONTRACT
navigable by steamers during flood time (June-December) to
the point of confluence with the White Nile. From the N.
the Baro is joined by two considerable rivers which also rise
in the rampart of hills that separates Abyssinia from the
Sudan, but its chief tributaries are from the S. In about 33°
20' E., 8° 30' N., it is joined by the Pibor. This river issues
from the swamp region east of Bor on the Bahr-el-Jebel stretch
of the Nile and flows N.E. and N. It is joined from the E. and
S. by various streams having their sources on the W. slopes of
the Kaffa plateau. Of these the chief are the Gelo — which
breaks through a gap in the mountains in a series of magnificent
cascades — and the Akobo. The Akobo rises in about 6° 30' N.,
35° 30' E., and after leaving the mountains flows N.W. through
flat swampy tracts. The whole region of the lower Pibor and
Baro is one of swamps, caused by the rivers overflowing
their banks in the rainy season. At its junction with the Baro
the Pibor is over 100 yds. wide, with a depth of 8 ft. and a speed
of 2-3 ft. per second.
Below the confluence of the Pibor and Baro the united stream,
now known as the Sobat, takes a decided N.W. trend, passing
for some distance through a region of swamps. Just 'beyond
the swamps and some 40 m. below the confluence, is the fortified
post of Nasser. From this point the ground on either side of
the river gradually rises, though on the S. it is liable to inundation
during flood time. From Nasser to the junction of the Sobat
with the Nile the river has a course of about 180 m. As it
approaches the Nile the Sobat flows in a well-defined channel
cut in the alluvial plains through which it passes. The banks
become steep, the slope rapid and the current strong. Several
khors join it from N. and S., some being simply spill channels.
These channels or " loops " are a characteristic feature of the
river. The Sobat enters the Nile almost at right angles in 9° 22'
N., 31° 31' E. It is 400 ft. wide at its mouth and has a depth of
18 to 20 ft. at low water and of 30 ft. when in flood. The colour
of the water when in moderate flood is that of milk, and it is from
this circumstance that the Nile gets its name of Bahr-el-Abiad,
i.e. White River. In full flood the colour of the Sobat is a pale
brick red. The amount of alluvium brought down is considerable.
For the part played by the Sobat in the annual rise of the Nile
see NILE.
The Sobat was ascended for some distance in 1841 by the
Egyptian expedition despatched in the previous year to explore
the upper Nile. The post of Nasser (see above) was founded in
1874 by General C. G. Gordon when governor of the equatorial
provinces of Egypt, and it was visited in 1876 by Dr W. Junker,
the German explorer. The exploration of the river system
above Nasser was carried out in the last decade of the igth
century by the Italian explorer V. Bottego, by Colonel (then
Captain) Marchand, of the French army, who, on his way from
Fashoda to France, navigated the Baro up to the foot of the
mountains; and by Captain M. S. Wellby, Majors H. H. Austin
and R. G. T. Bright, of the British army, and others. By the
agreement of the i5th of May 1902 between Great Britain
and Abyssinia the lower courses of the Pibor and Baro rivers
to their point of confluence form the frontier between the Anglo-
Egyptian Sudan and Abyssinia.
See NILE, SUDAN and ABYSSINIA. (W. E. G. ; F. R. C.)
SOBRAON, a decisive battle in the first Sikh War (see SIKH
WARS). It was fought on the i6th of February 1846, between
the British (15,000) under Sir Hugh Gough and the Sikhs (20,000)
under Tej Singh and Lai Singh. The Sikhs had fortified them-
selves in a bend on the left bank of the Sutlej, with the river in
their rear. The battle began with a two hours' artillery duel,
in which the Sikh guns were the more powerful, and the British
heavy guns expended their ammunition. Then the infantry
advanced with the bayonet, and after a fierce struggle took the
Sikh entrenchments. The Sikh losses were estimated at from
5000 to 8000. This battle ended the first Sikh War.
SOBRIQUET, a nickname or a fancy name, usually a familiar
name given by others as distinct from a " pseudonym " assumed
as a disguise. Two early variants are found, sotbriquet and
soubriquet; the latter form is still often used, though it is not
the correct modern French spelling. The first form suggests a
derivation from sot, foolish, and briquet, a French adaptation of
Ital. brichetto, diminutive of bricco, ass, knave, possibly connected
with briccom, rogue, which is supposed to be a derivative of
Ger. brechen, to break; but Skeat considers this spelling to be
due to popular etymology, and the real origin is to be sought
in the form soubriquet. Littre gives an early i4th century
soubsbriquet as meaning a " chuck under the chin," and this would
be derived from soubs, mod. sous (Lat. sub), under, and briquet
or bruchel, the brisket, or lower part of the throat.
SOCAGE, a free tenement held in fee simple by services
of an economic kind, such as the payment of rent or the perform-
ance of some agricultural work, was termed in medieval English
law a socage tenement. In a borough a similar holding was
called a burgage tenement. Medieval law books derived the
term from socus, ploughshare, and took it to denote primarily
agricultural work. This is clearly a misconception. The term
is derived from O. Eng. soc, which means primarily suit, but
can also signify jurisdiction and a franchise district. Historically
two principal periods may be distinguished in the evolution of
the tenure. At the close of the Anglo-Saxon epoch we find a
group of freemen differentiated from the ordinary ceorls because
of their greater independence and better personal standing.
They are classified as sokemen in opposition to the villani in
Domesday Book, and are chiefly to be found in the Danelaw
and in East Anglia. There can hardly be a doubt that previously
most of the Saxon ceorls in other parts of England enjoyed a
similar condition. In consequence of the Norman Conquest
and of the formation of the common law the tenure was developed
into the lowest form of freehold. Legal protection in the public
courts for the tenure and services deemed certain, appear as
its characteristic feature in contrast to villainage. Certainty
and legal protection were so essential that even villain holdings
were treated as villain socage when legal protection was obtainable
for it, as was actually the case with the peasants on Ancient
demesne who could sue their lords by the little writ of right
and the Monstraverunt. The Old English origins of the tenure
are still apparent even at this time in the shape of some of its
incidents, especially in the absence of feudal wardship and
marriage. Minors inheriting socage come under the guardianship
not of the lord but of the nearest male relative not entitled to
succession. An heiress in socage was free to contract marriage
without the interference of the lord. Customs of succession were
also peculiar in many cases of socage tenure, and the feudal rule
of primogeniture was 'not generally enforced. Commutation,
the enfranchisement of copyholds, and the abolition of military
tenures in the reign of Charles II. led to a gradual absorption
of socage in the general class of freehold tenures.
See Pollock and Maitland, History of English Law, i. 271 ff. ;
F. W. Maitland, Domesday Book and Beyond, 66 ff. ; P. Vinogradoff,
Villainage in England, 113 ff., I96ff.; English Society in the nth
Century, 431 ff. (P. Vl.)
SOCIAL CONTRACT, in political philosophy, a term applied to
the theory of the origin of society associated chiefly with the
names of Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau, though it can be traced
back to the Greek Sophists. According to Hobbes (Leviathan),
men lived originally in a state of nature in which there were
no recognized criteria of right and wrong, no distinction of
meum and luum. Each person took for himself all that he could ;
man's life was " solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short."
The state of nature was therefore a state of war, which was ended
by men agreeing to give their liberty into the hands of a sovereign,
who thenceforward was absolute. Locke ( Treatise on Government)
differed from Hobbes in so far as he described the pre-social
state as one of freedom, and held that private property must
have been recognized, though there was no security. Rousseau
(Central social) held that in the pre-social state man was unwar-
like and even timid. Laws resulted from the combination of
men who agreed for mutual protection to surrender individual
freedom of action. Government must therefore rest on the
consent of the governed, the volonte generate. Though it is
quite obvious that the theory of a social contract (or compact,
SOCIALISM
301
as it is also called) contains a considerable element of truth—-
that loose associations for mutual protection preceded any
elaborate idea or structure of law, and that government cannot
be based exclusively on force — yet it is open to the equally
obvious objection that the very idea of contract belongs to a
more advanced stage in human development than the hypothesis
itself demands. Thus the doctrine, yielding as a definite theory
of the origin of society to the evidence of history and anthrop-
ology, becomes interesting primarily as revolt against medieval
and theocratic theories of the state.
SOCIALISM, a term loosely formed from the Latin adjective
socialis (socius, a comrade), and first used of certain doctrines of
Robert Owen (q.v.). " Socialist " occurs in a discussion between
Robert Owen and the Rev. J. H. Roebuck at Manchester (publ.
Heywood, Manchester, 1837), pp. 27, 133. From the context it
seems a nickname. But the title " Owenist " was disliked by
many supporters (see Co-operative Magazine, 1826, p. 28) and
" Co-operator " was acquiring a different sense. The new term
was used in 1838 in France (by Pierre Leroux), and figures in
1840 in Reybaud's Socialistes modernes.
Definition. — Socialism is that policy or theory which aims at
securing by the action of the central democratic authority a
better distribution, and in due subordination thereunto a better
production, of wealth than now prevails.
This definition may not entirely cover the ancient and medieval
theories to which the name has been given by modern writers
(see also ANARCHISM, COMMUNISM, CO-OPERATION). It hardly
covers the schemes of Robert Owen himself. But just as
chemistry is not alchemy, or astronomy astrology, modern
socialism is not to be identified with Utopian fancies, and need
not be so defined as to embrace them. For a like reason it need
not be so defined as to include every tenet of leading socialistic
writers. We must disentangle their socialism from what is
superadded to it and not involved in the socialistic idea.
The word began in the days of Owen; but, as there were
utilitarians before Mill made the name current, so there were
socialists before Owen. Socialism, as a policy, begins with the
beginnings of politics. As a theory, it begins whenever the state
is perceived to have a distinct office from other factors in the
order of society, and that office is so magnified that the whole
or main charge of the economic resources of the people is assigned
to the state, whether for production or for distribution. There
was anarchism among the Cyrenaics and Cynics. Phaleas of
Chalcedon was a communist. There is state socialism in the
Republic of Plato, and much remains in the Laws. It is true
that in those days society and state are not clearly distinguished.
When Aristotle tells us that " man is by nature a political
.animal " (Politics, i. i), the adjective is ambiguous. But the
individual and the state are not confused; they are even, by the
Cynics, too far separated.
State and individual were also well apart in Rome, under the
Roman system of legal rights — public, private, real, and personal.
There were socialistic measures in Rome, pants el circenses;
and there were agrarian, to say nothing of usury laws. But trade
and industry were not usually regarded as worthy subjects for
the state and the statesman to touch at all. There are instances
of municipal socialism in Italy and the provinces under the
Roman Empire (S. Dill, Roman Society from Nero to Marcus
Aurelius, 1905, pp. 218, 220, 222). In the middle ages feudalism
was more akin to paternal government than to individualism;
but it was, politically, too undemocratic to approach a true
socialism. On its decadence something like a de facto municipal
socialism made its appearance. The gilds of the great cities,
imperium in im-perio, regulated production and incidentally
distribution. They did not prevent the existence of millionaires
like the Fuggers, but they brought even these rich men under
their rules. The equality was greater than the liberty, though
neither was complete, to modern notions.
With the breaking up of the gilds came what is commonly
called individualism. Thenceforward over against the control-
ling government of the monarch or the commonwealth was to
stand the commercial competition of free individuals. It is one
of our modern problems to determine whether this individualism
is doomed or not. It has never existed pure and unmixed.
Between the time of the gilds and the time of the trade unions
lies the time, say in England in the i6th and I7th centuries,
when there were enterprising trade and busy industry, with
enough of power surviving in the old organizations to prevent
absolute anarchy. As invention followed invention in the i8th
century, industry changed its form and became great instead of
small. That is to say , it tended to become more and more an
affair of large capital and large workshops, and, instead of the
industrial individualism of small masters and independent
" manufacturers," who were still " hand " -workers, there was
appearing the industrial collectivism of the factory system,
where manufacture was nothing without its machinery, its
colossal division of labour and its strict technical discipline and
drill. There was a short period in England when employers were
allowed to draw advantage from the change without any hind-
rance from the state. But in no greater time than one generation
the regulation of factories began, the period of anarchy ended,
and the commercial competition of free individuals began to be
surrounded with safeguards, more or less effective.
Modern socialism, as defined above, is (a) opposed to the
policy of laissez-faire, which aims at the least possible inter-
ference with industrial competition between private persons or
groups of persons, and (b) suspicious of a policy of mere regula-
tion, which aims at close surveillance and control of the pro-
ceedings of industrial competitors, but would avoid direct
initiative in production and direct attempts to level the in-
equalities of wealth. The leading idea of the socialist is to
convert into general benefit what is now the gain of a few. He
shares this idea with the anarchist, the positivist, the co-operator
and other reformers; but, unlike them, to secure his end he
would employ the compulsory powers of the sovereign state,
or the powers of the municipality delegated by the sovereign.
In the former case we have state socialism, in the latter municipal.
Where there is direction or diversion of industry by the public
force mainly for the benefit of a few, this is hardly socialism.
It employs the same machinery, the public force; and it secures
a revenue which may possibly be used for the general benefit,
as in the case of protective duties. But in such cases the general
benefit is only a possible incident. So far (for example) as
protection succeeds in keeping out the foreign competitors, the
main result is the assured gain or prevented loss of a few among
the citizens. Socialism by intention and definition would secure
benefits not for a few, a minority, or even a majority, but for all
citizens. Communism has the same end in view; and socialism
and communism (q.v.) are often confused in popular thought.
But the communist need not be a socialist ; he may be an anarchist,
an opponent of all government; while the socialist need not
be a communist. The socialists of the 2oth century rarely, if
ever, demand that all wealth be held in common, but only that
the land, and the large workshops, and the materials and means of
production on a large scale shall be owned by the state, or its
delegate the municipality. The despotism of gilds would not
now be tolerated. The strictest public regulation of trade and
industry will probably continue to be that of the state, rather
than of the municipality, for local rules can be evaded by migra-
tion, the state's only by emigration. But the smaller bodies are
likely to display more adventurous initiative; and it is significant
that they appear in the imagination nearer to the individual than
the state even of a small people can ever appear to its own
citizens. Yet it is not the smallest unit, the parish, that has
shown most activity in England, but the county, a unit arith-
metically nearer to the state than to the individual.
It might be plausibly argued that the movement of modern
events has been rather towards a kind of anarchism (q.v.) than a
kind of socialism, if it were not for the element of compulsion
(quite contrary to anarchism). Even the English poor law,
universally called socialistic, is administered locally and the
degree of socialism varies with the parishes. When the state's
regulation went further and further in a succession of Irish Land
Acts (1870, 1881, 1903), it assumed a socialistic character; the
302
SOCIALISM
face of agricultural industry was transformed for the benefit of
the majority, if hardly of the whole, by the action of the state.
But the result has been a state-aided individualism. The
attempt to transform all industries by protection has not been
made by the English state in these days. It remains broadly
true that, since the English state became more democratic
(Reform Acts of 1832, 1867, 1884), its socialism has become more
and more of the municipal character. The end in view having
more to do with economics than with politics, it mattered little
theoretically whether the power exercised was that of the central
authority acting directly or the delegated power in the hands of
the smaller public bodies.
This has been the course of events in England with little
conscious theory or principle on the part of the people or even of
its leaders. It is certainly a partial fulfilment of the aspirations
of those whose theory or principle is socialism. The most
important form of modern socialism, which may be called for
convenience " social democratic " socialism, is founded on
economic theory more or less clearly understood; it is therefore
often described as economic or scientific socialism. Many men
have become socialists less from logic than from sympathy with
suffering. But modern socialism without disowning sentiment
knows the need of facts and sound reasoning better than its
predecessors, whom it calls Utopian. While among civilized
peoples the suffering has on the whole grown less, the influence of
socialism has grown greater; and this is largely owing to the
efforts made by the best socialists to reason faithfully and
collect facts honestly. The remarkable extension of socialism
in Germany may be traced in great part to the special circum-
stances which have made social democracy the chief effective
organizer of working men in that country. But modern socialism
is not a purely German product. To scientific socialism England,
France and Germany have all made contribution.
Its theoretical basis came, in two curiously different ways,
from practical England. The idea that the underpaid labour of
the poor is the main source of the wealth of the rich is to be found
not only in Godwin and Owen but in the minor English land-
reformers and revolutionary writers of the i8th and early igth
centuries, such as T. Spence, W. Ogilvie, T. Hodgskin, S. Read,
W. Thompson. The positions of Ricardo that value is due to
labour and that profits vary inversely as wages were taken by
Marx (without Ricardo's modifications) as established doctrines
of orthodox political economy. It was declared to be a scientific
truth that under modern industrial conditions the " exploita-
tion " of the labourer is inevitable. In the theory of rent the
exploitation of the tenant by the landlord was already admitted
by most economists. It was for the socialists to show that the
salvation both of tenant and labourer lay in the hands of the
central authority, acting as the socialists would have it act.
France had been prepared for socialism by St Simon and
Fourier. The revolutions of 1830 and 1848, though on the whole
unsuccessful in directly organizing labour, made socialistic ideas
circulate widely in Europe. Men began to conceive of a political
revolution which should be also a social revolution, or of a social
and industrial revolution which should be also political. We
may say broadly that the socialism of 1910 was either inspired
by the ideas of that time or is coloured by them. Modern
scientific socialism was thus about fifty years old towards the
end of the first decade of the 2Oth century. It would have little
claim to be scientific if it had undergone no change in that time;
but the change was not greater than the change in orthodox
economic doctrine, which indeed it had followed.
Its adherents may be classified (i) according to theory and
(2) according to policy, though, as scientific socialism is really
both theory and policy, being a political claim founded on an
economic argument, the distinction is sometimes a matter of
emphasis.
There are theorists who find the exploitation of the tenant
by the landlord to be the main evil whether it involves the
degradation of the labourer or not. As some theologians confine
their criticism to the Old Testament, so Henry George and
Professor A. Loria, shunning the name of socialist, would not
directly attack the system of modern large capitals but the
appropriation of land. The social-democrat attacks both. He
either takes Marx as guide, or, allowing Marx to be vulnerable,
he stands on received economic doctrines with the addition of a
political theory. He may himself rest content with the national-
izing of the means of production or he may tend towards
communism.
In policy there is a difference between those scientific socialists
who admit of no compromise with the existing order and the
other scientific socialists who are willing to work with the existing
order. The straitest sect would keep quite aloof from ordinary
politics. The first step towards compromise is to allow the
formation of a socialistic party in the legislature, bearing a
protest against all other existing parties. This is the rule on
the continent of Europe. The next step is to allow members
of the party to be also members of other existing political
parties; this is common in England and her colonies. The
political history of scientific socialism is to a large extent the
history of its attempts to avoid, to effect and to utilize the
compromise.
There is, of course, a large body of socialists outside any organ-
ization. Partly from the teachings of socialists and partly from
literary descriptions of the aims and reasons of socialism, there
are multitudes who think socialistically without defining their
own position with the exactness of the scientific socialist. It
is often these amateurs who fall readily into Utopias and who
confound the boundaries between socialism and communism.
This is done for example by such writers as H. G. Wells and
Upton Sinclair. The temptation is evident. The borderland
between large production and small may be sometimes debate-
able; and, as soon as the socialistic nationalizing of large
production is extended to small, the way is open to the Utopias
of communism. Communism is an idea far more Utopian than
socialism. Like the idea of a kingdom of heaven or a millennium,
it springs often from a spiritual enthusiasm that feels sure of
its end and, at first at least, recks little of the means.
The enthusiasm may spring from a real conversion of the
sort described in the Republic of Plato (vii. 516). Even scientific
socialism, depending theoretically on close adherence to economic
principles, depends practically on this conversion. It is as with
Christianity, which depends on its theology but also on its
change of heart; till we have refuted both we have not refuted
Christianity. So a change of heart, which is also a change of
view, is to socialism, as a religion, what economic and political
theory is to it as a creed. All that is best in anarchism shares
this spiritual feature with socialism. It is of a higher type than
the human sympathy which went with Utopian socialism;
it includes that sympathy and more. It requires a mental
somersault of the kind taken by Hegel's metaphysician and
(analogically) by Dante at the earth's centre. The observer
begins to see the world of men all over again, throwing from him
all the prejudice of his class and abstracting from all classes.
This abstraction may be less hard for those who belong to a
class that has little, than for those of a class that has much, as
religious conversion is held to be easier for the poor. But it is
not really easy for any. The observer tries to conceive what
is at bottom the difference between rich and poor. Casuists
can show that the line is a vanishing one, and that there are
large groups of cases where the distinction is unsubstantial.
Such borderlands are still the sporting ground of economists
and philosophers and biologists. We could hardly contend,
however, that no distinctions are true which break down at the
border. It seems unsafe to say there is no war of classes, because
at their nearest extremities the classes pass into each other.
At the utmost we might infer that the best way to bring the war
to an end was to crowd the nearest extremities. At present,
taking the contrast not at its least or greatest but at its mean,
we find it no fancy. The features that make the lower as
distinguished from the higher are of different quality and kind,
not merely of amount. They are described perhaps most fully
by Tolstoy in Que faire ?, but they are brought to the ken of
every one of the rich who can overhear the daily talk of the poor,
SOCIALISM
3°3
enter into their daily cares and put himself in their place. If
he makes the somersault and is " converted," all the little and
great privileges of the rich seem now to have as many presump-
tipns against them as were before in their favour. Why should
he have so much comfort and they so little? why should he be
secure when they live from hand to mouth? why should art and
science and refinement be thrown in his own way and be hardly
within their reach at all? Such and similar ponderings are not
far from a revolt against inequality, whether the revolt takes
the shape of anarchism or of socialism. It carries us beyond
the paternal socialism of Carlyle and Ruskin or even of the
author of Sybil, relying as Disraeli did on the " proud control "
of the old English state, which was occasionally and spasmodic-
ally constructive as well as controlling, but was always actuated
by a feeling like that of a chief to his clansmen. The exponents
of paternal socialism have no clear consciousness of the change
in the state itself. They think they can still use the old tools.
They see that the people have changed, but they do not see that
if the past cannot be revived for a people neither can it be
revived for a state. The idea of lordship (as distinguished from
leadership) is becoming intolerable; and this restiveness may
contain a safeguard against one of the worst risks of socialism,
bureaucracy. Before the governing bureaucracy had destroyed
all originality and eccentricity, the sovereign people would have
discovered for itself that " tyranny is a poor provider."
Great Britain. — In England a certain academic interest in
socialism was created by Mill's discussions on the subject in his
Political Economy (1848) and a more practical interest by the
appearance of the Christian Socialists. " The red fool-fury of
the Seine " caused prejudice even against such harmless en-
thusiasts. The People's Charter (in the 'thirties) had no socialistic
element in it. Socialism first showed signs of becoming a popular
movement in England after the lecturing tour of Henry George
(1881-1882) in advocacy of the nationalizing of the land. About
that very time (1880) the Democratic (afterwards in 1883 the
Social Democratic) Federation was formed by advocates of the
whole socialistic programme. A secession took place in 1884
when William Morris, H. M. Hyndman and Belfort Bax founded
the Socialist League. William Morris parted company with
the league in 1890, and seems to have become more anarchist
than socialist. Edward Bellamy's Looking Backward (1887)
made some impression among intellectual people in England;
but Robert Blatchford's Merrie England (1894) made much
more way amongst the multitude, followed up as it was by his
newspaper the Clarion. There were still few signs of a strong
party. The first members of the Fabian Society (1888) were by
definition opportunists, and though the Fabian Essays (1889)
were socialistic they were the declarations of men willing to use
the ordinary political machinery and accept reforms in the
present that might point to a socialistic solution in the very far
distance. Most of the Fabians became hard-working radicals
of the old type, with general approval. England does not love
even the appearance of a revolution. Nevertheless a change has
come over the spirit of English politics in the direction desired
by socialists, though hardly through any efforts of theirs. The
change was predicted by Herbert Spencer in 1860 (Westm. Rev.
April) some years before household suffrage (1867). In The
Man versus the State (1885) he demonstrates that liberal legisla-
tion which once meant the removal of obstacles now meant the
coercion of the individual. Though a large part of the coercive
measures enumerated by Spencer are rather regulation than
socialism, undoubtedly there is here and there a socialistic
provision. Thomas Hill Green's dictum, " It is the business
of the State to maintain the conditions without which a free
exercise of the human faculties is impossible " (Liberal Legislation
and Freedom of Contract, 1881), did not in appearance go much
further than Herbert Spencer's that " it is a vital requirement
for society and for the individual to recognize and enforce the
conditions to a normal social life " (The Man versus the State,
p. 102); but the former saw clearly that the policy of the future
must go beyond mere regulation. Too much importance has
been attached to a saying of Sir William Harcourt in 1888,
" We are all Socialists now." He meant no more than that we
are all social reformers who will use the aid of the state without
scruple if it seems necessary. He did not mean that the English
people had adopted a general principle of socialism. Except
in the case of free trade, it is hard to discover a general principle
in English politics. The English people judge each case on the
merits, and as if no general principle ever affected the merits.
Regulation and not initiative is the prevailing feature of the
action of government even now. The railways are still in private
hands. The state railways, canals and forests of India, though
John Morley (afterwards Viscount Morley) " made a present
of them to the Socialists " (House of Commons, 2oth July
1906), are the public works of a modern benevolent despotism,
and do not go very far beyond those of its ancient prototype.
They are the works not of the Indian but of an alien demo-
cracy. Contrariwise, in England itself, possessed of a fair
measure of self-government, crown lands, government dock-
yards, army, fleet, post office were in existence when there
was no thought of state socialism; they are not modern innova-
tions but time-honoured institutions.
The same is true of a great part of municipal socialism. It
existed in the middle of the igth century, and no local community
would have been deterred from having its own water-supply
or gas works by any fear of socialism. The fear is still less
deterrent now; and we have seen electric lighting, tramways,
parks, markets, ferries, light railways, baths and wash-houses,
house property, river steamers, libraries, docks, oyster beds,
held by towns like Glasgow, Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool,
Leeds, Bradford, Huddersfield, Colchester. Sometimes the
management is economical, sometimes wasteful; but in all
cases the undertakings have been supported by a majority who
care little for general theory and everything for local interests.
The " unity of administration " successfully advocated by
Edwin Chadwick in the later Victorian period, and requiring
" competition for the field but not in the field," is not inconsistent
with municipal socialism. This last has been provided with
new machinery by the establishment of county and district
councils (1888), parish councils (1894) and even the perhaps-
otherwise-intended metropolitan borough councils (1899).
Till 1907, when the progressive party in the London County
Council were heavily defeated, that council was certainly moving
in the path of municipal socialism. But, in its achievements
as distinguished from its claims, it had not overtaken, still
less surpassed, Birmingham or Glasgow. Municipal socialism in
Britain finds many critics; it has the drawbacks of all democratic
self-government. It is sometimes wasteful; but it is seldom
corrupt; and there is no general desire for a .return to a less
adventurous policy. In the country districts democracy is still
imperfectly conscious of its own power. There are acts on the
statute book that would well equip a parochial socialism; but
socialists seem to be able to do little more than accelerate slightly
what seems to be the inevitably slow pace of political reform
in England. Whether the extension of the franchise to women
will quicken the rate of reform is uncertain.
With every allowance, the change in English politics has been
real, and it has been due in a great measure to the growth
of organization among working men. The old trade unionism
passed out of its dark ages by the aid of legislation (in 1871),
which was for thirty years (till the Taff Vale decision in 1901,
the older view being restored by the Trades Disputes Act 1906)
considered to give fo the trade unions the advantages of a
corporation without the drawbacks. At the same time, through
a better law of small partnerships (Industrial and Provident
Societies Acts 1852, 1862, 1876), the co-operative societies were
making rapid progress. Compulsory education (1870) increased
the intelligence of the labouring classes and therewith their
power to use their opportunities. Labour legislation, removing
truck, making inspection and regulation of factories more
stringent (see the consolidating Act of 1878 and the Factory
and Workshop Act 1901) and providing compensation for
accidents (1906), was forwarded by both political parties. This
was not socialism but regulation. The old unionists were
304
SOCIALISM
radicals of the old type. Not so the unionists who came first
into prominence with the Dock Strike in London in 1889. The
way had been prepared by demonstrations of the unemployed
in 1887 and 1888. When unionism embraced unskilled labourers,
and at the same time pressed on the federation of all trades
societies and their joint action, when, too, in the trade union
congresses the intervention of the state was repeatedly claimed
as essential to the success not only of an eight hours' day but
of such socialistic measures as nationalization of the land, it
was manifest that there was a new leaven working. The larger
the numbers included in the trades societies the more their
organization was bound to depart from that of the mass meeting,
and to become indirect instead of direct self-government,
government by representatives, and more and more by specially
trained representatives. This was a tendency towards bureau-
cracy, or government by officials, not the highest type of popular
government. A better preparation for democratic government
has been given by the co-operative societies. If it be true that
under a coming socialism the working class must dominate,
then every phase of organization must be welcomed which
widens their experience of self-government, more especially
in the handling of industrial and commercial affairs. This last
kind of education has been well given by co-operation, though
chiefly through capital and hired labour on the old pattern
of the ordinary employers. Co-partnership societies, best
exemplified in the midland districts of England, are more
democratic; but their numbers are few. The claims of the
workman are somewhat in advance of his education. On the
other hand it seems impossible in England to secure moderate
concessions without extravagant claims.
Germany. — In Germany it was long an axiom that socialists
must leave ordinary politics and political machinery severely
alone as an evil thing. The short and futile struggle for constitu-
tional liberty in 1848-1849 had driven most of those who were
" thinking social istically " into abandonment of political reform
and into plans of fundamental change amounting to revolution.
Karl Mario (1810-1865) and K. J. Rodbertus (q.v.) contented
themselves with laborious and profound studies not intended
to bear immediate fruit in practice. Marx and Lassalle were not
so pacific. The former was from the first (see his Manifesto
of 1847) inclined to give socialism an international character,
taking also no pains to distinguish it from communism. Lassalle
desired it for his own nation first. Both of them were in a sense
Hegelians. From Hegel they had learned that the world of men,
like the world of things, was in constant process of development ;
but unlike Hegel they regarded human evolution as purely
materialistic, effected always by a struggle between classes in
society for the outward means of well-being. Feudalism, itself
the result of such a struggle, had given place to the rule of the
middle classes. The struggle to-day is between the middle
classes and the working classes. At present those who do not
possess capital are obliged to work for such wages as will keep them
alive, and the gains from inventions and economics are secured by
the employers and capitalists. The labourer works at his cost
price, which is " the socially necessary wages of subsistence "
(the bare necessaries of a civilized life); but he produces much
more than his cost, and the surplus due to his " unpaid labour "
goes to the employer and capitalist. This is what Lassalle called
the " brazen law of wages," founded on Ricardo's supposed
doctrine that (a) the value of an article that is not a monopoly
is determined by its cost in labour, and (6)' the wages of labour
tend to be simply the necessaries of life. The tendency of the
labouring population to increase beyond the means of steady
employment is a frequent benefit to the capitalists in the periodic
expansions of investment and enterprise, arising in response to
new inventions and discoveries. Large business in modern
economy swallows up small. Not only the independent artisans
and workers in domestic industries, but the small capitalists and
employers who cannot afford to introduce the economies and sell
at the low prices of their large rivals are disappearing. But
the growth of the proletariat, together with the concentration of
business into fewer hands and larger companies, will cause the
downfall of the present system of industry. The proletariat
will realize its own strength; and the means and materials of
production will be concentrated finally into the hands of the
commonwealth for the good of all. This revolution, like that
which overturned feudalism, is simply the next stage of an
evolution happening without human will, fatally and necessarily,
by virtue of the conditions under^which wealth is produced and
snared in our times.
Such was in substance the view of all the German socialists
of the last half of the igth century. Even Rodbertus had
advanced a claim of right on behalf of working men to the full
produce of their labour, but thought the times not ripe for
socialism. The others made no such reservations. Lassalle
planned a centralized organization of workmen led by a dictator,
and called on the government of Prussia to establish from the
public funds co-operative associations such as his opponent
Schulze-Delitzsch had hoped to plant by self help. His socialism
was rather national than universal. Marx looked beyond his
own nation. He founded the International Union of Working
Men in 1864, the year of Lassalle's tragic death. Before the
common danger of police prosecutions and persecution the
followers of Lassalle and Marx were united at the congress of
Gotha in 1875. The name social democrats had crept into use
about 1869 when the followers of Marx founded at a congress in
Eisenach the social democratic working men's party. The party
began to be a power at the congress of Gotha. It is a power now,
but its doctrines and policy have undergone some change.
The last quarter of the i gth century witnessed (i) the repressive
laws of 1878, (2) their repeal in 1890, (3) the three Insurance
Laws and (4) a quickened progress of German industry and
wealth during thirty years of peace and consolidation.
Bismarck's government, alarmed by attempts on the life
of the emperor and by the increased number of votes given to
socialistic candidates for the reichstag, procured the passing of
the Exceptional Powers Act (Ausnahme Geselz) in 1878. The
legislation at this time resembled the Six Acts of 1819 in England.
Combined action and open utterance in Germany became almost
impossible; and for organs of the press the social democrats had
recourse to Zurich. Liebknecht and Bebel could still raise their
voices for them in parliament, for Bismarck failed in his attempt
to deprive members of their immunities (March 1879). But the
agitation as a whole was driven underground; and it speaks
well for the patience and self-control of the people that no wide-
spread excesses followed. The declaration of the Social Demo-
cratic congress at Wyden, Switzerland, in 1880, that their aims
should be furthered " by every means " instead of the old phrase
" by every lawful means," was a natural rejoinder to the law
that deprived them of the lawful means; and it seems to have
had no evil consequences. In 1881 repression was so far relaxed
that trade unions were allowed to recover legal standing. In 1890
the reichstag refused to renew the law of 1878 for a fifth period;
and finally in 1899 it repealed the law forbidding the amalgama-
tion of workmen's unions, and specially aimed at the new social-
istic unions, the natural allies of the social democrats. The
vexatious prosecutions and condemnations for Majestats-
beleidigung (Ibse majeste) following 1890 did the cause more
good than harm. The socialistic voters increased from 437,438 in
1878 to 1,800,000 in 1894 and 2,120,000 in 1898, while the elected
members increased from 12 in 1877 to 46 in 1894 and 56 in 1898.
By 1903 the voters had increased to three millions and in the
elections of February 1907 they were 3,240,000. The socialists,
however, in 1907 found themselves represented by 43 members
as against 79 in 1903. The reduced representation was due to a
combination of the other parties against them, the matters at
issue not being industrial policy, but colonial government and
naval expenditure. The increase in the number of voters remains
a proof that the power of the party in Germany has rather in-
creased than diminished. In 1908 they gained seven seats in the
Prussian Diet, where they had hitherto been unrepresented.
Yet " remedial measures " had been passed which were intended
to make socialism unnecessary. Bismarck, who admired Lassalle
and had no scruples about the intervention of the state, had
SOCIALISM
305
planned a series of measures for the insurance of workmen
against sickness, accidents and old age, measures duly carried out
in 1 883 , 1 884 and 1891, respectively. The socialists not unreason-
ably regarded the government as their convert. They could
point to two other " unwilling witnesses," the Christian Socialists
and the " Socialists of the Chair."
In the Protestant parts of Germany the socialists as a rule
were social democrats, in the Catholic as a rule they were Christian
Socialists. As early as 1863 and 1864 Dr Bellinger and Bishop
Ketteler, followed by Canon Moufang, had represented socialistic
sentiment and doctrine. Ketteler, who had been under the
influence of Lassalle, had hopes that the church would make
productive associations her special care. Moufang would have
depended more on the state than on the church. All were awake
to the evils of the workmen's position as described by the social
democrats, and they were anxious that the Catholic church
should not leave the cure of the evils to be effected without her
assistance. Ketteler died in 1877; and the pope's encyclical
of the 28th of December 1878 bore no trace of his influence,
mixing up as it did socialists, nihilists and communists in one
common condemnation. The encyclical De conditions opificum
of 1891 might show that the views of the Christian Socialists
had penetrated to headquarters; but the encyclical on Christian
Democracy of 1901 (January) betrays no sympathy with them.
The Protestant church in Germany has been hampered by fear of
offending the government; but it contains a vigorous if tiny
body of Christian Socialists. Rudolf Todt, a country pastor,
was their prophet. His book on Radical German Socialism
and Christian Society (1878) led Dr Stocker, the court chaplain,
to found an association for " Social Reform on Christian Prin-
ciples." This was denounced rather unfairly by politicians of all
ranks as an organized hypocrisy. Its influence was shortlived,
and its successor, the "Social Monarchical Union" (1890), shared
the unpopularity of Stocker, its founder. Even the Socialists of
the Chair, middle class Protestants as they were, would have
nothing to say to it, but preferred to go a way of their own.
From the year 1858 there had existed a league of economists and
statesmen called the "economic congress" ( V olkswirtschaft-
licher Kongress), a kind of English Cobden Club, though it aimed
chiefly at free trade among all sections of the German people in
particular. After the Empire its work seemed finished; and a
new society was formed, the " Union for a Policy of Social
Reform " {Verein fiir Socialpolitik). Professors G. Schmoller,
W. Roscher, B. Hildebrand, A. Wagner, L. J. Brentano, the
statistician E. Engel and others met at Halle in June 1872, and
a meeting of their supporters followed at Eisenach in October of
that year. These Katheder-Socialisten or Socialists of the Chair
(academic socialists) agreed with the social democrats in recog-
nizing the existence of a " social question," the problem how to
make the labourers' condition better. To the old-fashioned
economist this was no problem for the legislature; competition
solved its own problems. But, while the social democrats
looked for social revolution, the academic socialists were content
to work for social reform, to be furthered by the state. The state
was, to them, " a great moral institution for the education of
the race." They were a company of moderate state socialists,
relying on the state and the state as it then was. They did much
gratuitous service to the government in the preliminary in-
vestigations preceding the great insurance laws.
The German people were made a little more inclined to state
socialism than before by the efficiency displayed by the bureau-
cracy in the wars of 1866 and 1870. If the Insurance Laws are
found to work well, this inclination may be confirmed, and th.e
idea of a revolution may fall into the background. The attitude
of the social democratic party became less uncompromising than
in earlier days. Since they regained their liberty in 1890, their
leaders have kept them well in hand. Their principal journal
Vorwarls was conducted with great ability. Their agitation
became as peaceful as that of trade unionists or co-operators in
England. They ceased to denounce the churches. They tried
to gain sympathy, quite fairly, by taking up the cause of any
distressed workers, or even ill-used natives in colonies, and urging
redress from the state. The present state had become to them
almost unconsciously their own state, a means of removing evils
and not a mere evil to be removed. The anarchists had been
disowned as early as 1880. The extreme socialists who demanded
return to the old tactics were cast out at Erfurt in 1891, and
became " Independent Socialists."
The controversy between friends and critics of socialism still
rages in learned circles, producing a prodigious quantity of
literature year by year; but the old strictures of Treitschke and
Schaffle seem now to have lost a little of their point. Though
the programme adopted at Gotha in 1875 was not entirely or even
seriously altered, the parts of it due to Lassalle fell into the
background. For many years Marx and not Lassalle was the
great authority of the party. Marx died in 1883, but remained
an oracle till 1894, when (just before his own death in 1895)
Engels published the last volume of his friend's book on capital.
The volume was expected to solve certain logical difficulties
in the system. Instead of this, it caused a feeling of disappoint-
ment, even among true believers. Many, like Bebel and Kautsky,
kept up the old adoration of Marx; but many, like Eduard
Bernstein, rightly felt that to give up Marx is not to give up
socialism, any more than to give up Genesis is to give up theology .•
Bernstein openly proposed in congress that the old doctrines and
policy of the party, involving as they do the despair of reform
and insistence on the need of revolution, should be dropped.
He had not carried his point in 1908, but his influence seemed
to be increasing. The death of Liebknecht (August 1900) re-
moved from the ranks of the social democrats one of their most
heroic figures, but also one of the strongest opponents of such a
change of front. Yet Liebknecht himself had made concessions.
It was impossible for a man of his shrewdness to close his eyes
to what the state had done for the German workman. It was
impossible, too, to ignore the progress that Germany had made
in wealth and industry since the creation of the Empire in 1871.
Germany has been fast becoming a manufacturing country;
and, though the growth of large manufacturing towns in the
Rhine valley and elsewhere has multiplied socialists, it has added
to the income of the German workman. He is further from
poverty and distress; and his socialism means an endeavour
after a larger life, not, as formerly, a mere struggle against
starvation. It is likely, therefore, to have less and less of mere
blindness and violence in it.
The German socialists were chiefly interested in securing such
an extension of the franchise in Prussia as would make their
representation in the Prussian parliament correspond as near to
the number of their adherents as in the Reichstag itself. They
had only gained seven seats in the former in June 1908, though
they had perhaps half a million of adherents in Prussia. They
seemed for good or for evil to be taking the place of the old
radical party. The position in Austria was somewhat different.
The first general elections held under a really democratic suffrage
(May 1907) resulted in the return of eighty social democrats and
sixty Christian socialists to the Reichsrath, as compared with
eleven and twenty-six in the unreformed parliament. They
were opposed (as anti-clerical and clerical) on many questions,
but they made it certain that economic and industrial policy
affecting the whole nation would rival and perhaps out-rival
the questions of racial supremacy and haute politique that
absorbed the attention of the old Reichsrath.
France. — In France the socialists have found it harder to
work in the parliamentary harness. Marx had said long ago that
for the success of socialism besides English help there must be
" the crowing of the Gallic cock." French enthusiasm for social
revolution is feeble in the country districts but very strongly
pronounced in the large towns. The Communards of 1871 might
be called municipal socialists of a sort, but their light went
out in that annee terrible. Something like a movement towards
organized socialism began in 1880 on the return of some prominent
members of the old commune from exile. A congress was held
at Havre under the leadership of J. Guesde and J. A. Ferroul;
it adopted a " Collectiiiist " programme, Collectivisme meaning
state socialism. A minority under J. F. E. Brousse and J. F. A.
306
SOCIALISM
Joffrin broke away (in 1881) from the main body and stood out
for municipal socialism, decentralization and, later (1887), self-
governing workshops aided by public money. Co-operative
workshops are already subsidized in France from the public
funds, and favoured by preferences in public works and other
privileges, without striking results. The Broussistes are also
called Possibilistes, as content with such socialism as is im-
mediately practicable. They supported, for example, agrarian
reform on the present basis of private property (Marseilles, 1892).
After several unsuccessful negotiations, the amalgamation of
the Collectivists, Possibilists and Blanquistei (extreme revolu-
tionaries)) was accomplished in 1899. But the body had not the
cohesion of the German party. Though the socialists in the
Chamber acted more or less loyally together, they were not
closely controlled by the organization outside. In consequence
(like Mr John Burns in England in 1905-1906) those who accepted
office usually came under a cloud. This happened to M. Millerand
when he became minister of commerce in the Waldeck Rousseau
government of 1899, and in a less degree to M. Jaures when he
became vice-president of the Chamber. M. Millerand was,
indeed, expelled from the party, and at the socialist congress of
Amsterdam (August 1904) a strongly worded resolution con-
demned any participation by socialists in bourgeois (middle-
class) government. The vote was not unanimous, and the
resolution itself was attributed to the German Bebel. • An attempt
was made in Paris (April 1905) to bind the various parties of
French socialists more closely together by forming a new "Social-
ist party, the French Section of the Internationa] Labour Union."
It laid down stringent rules for the guidance of socialist deputies.
In comparison with the steady united action of the Germans,
the proceedings of the French socialists, perhaps from their
greater political liberty, seems a wayward guerilla warfare. The
French state is not on principle averse from intervention. It has
been always more ready than in England to interfere with
competitive trade and to take the initiative on itself. It controls
the Bank of France, owns most of the railways, and directs
secondary as well as primary education. After the disputes at
Carmaux (in 1892) it proposed to take over the mines. There
is no general poor law; but old-age pensions have been voted,
and workmen's compensation is as old as 1888. State socialism
might have gone farther if French bureaucracy had not proved
less efficient than German.
Though there are socialistic French professors there can hardly
be said to be a body of academic socialists in France. The
strongest economic writing is still that of the orthodox economists,
P. E. Levasseur, P. P. Leroy-Beaulieu, Yves Guyot. Even
Professor Charles Gide, though reformer, is not socialist. Of
the two party periodicals La Revue socialiste is moderate, Le
Mouvement socialiste hardly so. The latter is in many ways
more akin to anarchism than state socialism. Socialism has
its allies in the sporadic Christian socialism of the Churches, both
Ca'tholic and Protestant, and in the solidarists who would trans-
form the existing system of employment without abolishing
private property. The school of Le Play, though devoted to
social reform, can hardly be called an ally of socialism.
Netherlands. — Socialism has found a kindlier soil in Belgium
and Holland, and these countries have been the favourite
meeting-place in recent years of congresses of all denominations
of socialists. In Belgium the Flemish social democratic party
led by de Paepe united in 1879 with the Brabantine or Walloon.
They organized trade unions. They helped the liberals in 1893
to procure the extension of the suffrage. In 1907 they had
thirty representatives in parliament. The flourishing co-operative
societies, Voornit (Forwards) in Ghent and Maison du people
of the Brussels bakers, were the work of their members. Its
success in co-operation is almost the distinctive feature of
Belgian socialism. Socialists helped to procure the adoption by
Belgium of a system of old-age pensions for the poor in 1900,
and of the cheap trains which do so much for the workmen in
town and country. In Holland, which is not a crowded manu-
facturing country but even now largely agricultural and pastoral,
the socialists are less formidable, if that be the right word. They
came into line with the German socialists in 1889. Social reform
proceeds with or without their aid. There has been a factory
act since 1889 and an act for workmen's insurance against
accidents since 1900. Municipal socialism has made progress.
The great railway strike of 1903 aroused public interest in the
condition of the workman, but the legislation that followed was
rather regulative than socialistic.
Switzerland. — Switzerland, for generations a refuge to exiles,
shows them hospitality without sharing their views. There is
little legislation of a socialistic nature; socialists are to be found
here and there, especially in the German cantons.
Scandinavia. — Scandinavia stands less apart from European
movements than formerly, but industrial legislation is rather
regulative than socialistic. Hjalmar Branting, one of the most
prominent socialists, was in 1908 a member of the Swedish parlia-
ment. The trade unions of Denmark are largely socialistic, but
Denmark is no nearer complete conversion than England.
Italy, Spain. — Socialism might be thought to find a better soil
in Italy and Spain. Italy has been described as " all prole-
tariat." But a great depth of poverty fits a people rather for
the anarchism of violence than for socialism. The social demo-
crats have made way, notwithstanding, and in 1895 returned
fifteen members to parliament. Milan is still the capital of the
movement. Laveleye had the idea that revolution was hopeless
in Italy because Rome was uninhabitable every summer. But
social democracy in Germany, its own country, is not bound up
with Berlin. Italy as a whole must make progress in social
and political development before it can receive the new ideas
and still more before it can grow beyond them. The burden of
taxes leads to revolts of sheer despair, followed by repression
which has extended to socialistic clubs (Jasci dei lavoralorf) and
even workmen's unions. State socialism in the form of state
railways has not been very efficient. Factory legislation is
behind that of other civilized countries, and is of very recent
origin (1902). Old-age pensions were introduced in 1898, and
accidents insurance on the German model in the same year.
Municipal socialism, finding some trammels removed, had in
the first decade of the 2oth century begun to show itself in the
large towns. In Spain there is a Socialist Federation; there are
socialist newspapers; and there seems to be no doubt that the
cause has gained ground, even as against anarchism. It may
perhaps yet be a power in the legislature. It is mainly in Russia
that anarchism has the field to itself.
Russia. — In spite of the hopes excited by the Duma, reformers
in Russia have been strongly tempted to be anarchists, even of
a violent type. Democracy had special difficulties in reaching
legislative power. Partly for this reason, "social democracy"
has had a subordinate place. The Russian socialists have, some
of them, rebelled against the view once essential to socialistic
orthodoxy: that Russia must pass through the stage of " capital-
ism " before reaching the stage of "collectivism." Marx him-
self (in 1877) conceded that the progress might be direct from
the system of village communities to the ideal of social demo-
cracy. Capitalism is already extending itself, and the con-
sistency of the theory need not have been broken. Even so, in
the absence of democratic government, the prospects of socialism
are doubtful. In Finland there were in 1908 eighty socialist
members in a parliament of two hundred. The party might
console itself by the thought that over the whole Russian empire
many more were socialists than could declare themselves so.
Australia. — In contrast to nearly all the countries of " Old
Europe," the self-governing colonies of Greater Britain stand out
a§ nothing if not democratic. Nowhere is democracy sturdier
than in Australia, the separate states of which have since 1900
been federated as one commonwealth. But while it has a pro-
tective tariff and makes no pretence of a laissez-faire policy, the
central government is less socialistic than the separate con-
federated states. The progress even of these has been, as in
England, rather in municipal than in state socialism. It is
true that crown lands, mines and railways figure more largely.
But to find state socialism in its vigour we must pass to New
Zealand.
SOCIALISM
307
New Zealand. — Removed 1 200 m. from Australia, its nearest
civilized neighbour, secured by English naval power and " com-
passed by the inviolate sea," New Zealand is better suited for
the experiment of a closed socialistic state than perhaps any
other country in the known world. It began its new career in
1880-1890, too late for perfect success but not too late to secure
a large measure of public ownership of what elsewhere becomes
private property. It owns not only the railways but two-thirds
of the whole land, letting it on long leases. It sets a limit to
large estates. It levies a progressive income tax and land tax.
It has a labour department, strict factory acts and a law of
compulsory arbitration t in labour disputes (1895;. There are
old-age pensions (1898), government insurance of life (1871)
and against fire (1905). Women have the suffrage, and partly
in consequence the restriction of the liquor traffic is severe.
There is a protective tariff, and oriental labour is excluded. The
success of the experiment is not yet beyond doubt; compulsory
arbitration, for example, did not work with perfect smoothness,
and was amended in 1908. But there has been no disaster.
The decline of the birth-rate has been greater than in Britain.
It is fair to add that the experiment is probably on too small
a scale to show what might happen in larger countries. New
Zealand has only 100,000 sq. m. of territory and about one
million of inhabitants, mainly rural and of picked quality. The
conditions of combined isolation and security are not easily
obtained elsewhere. The action of the state has been in the
great majority of instances rather regulative than construc-
tive.
Canada. — This last feature is still more marked on the great
North American continent. The Dominion of Canada, from its
foundation by confederation in 1867, has given its land away too
freely. The Dominion, indeed, has only had the land of new
territories to dispose of; the original states are the owners of
their own unsettled lands. The Dominion government owns the
Intercolonial railway but contents itself with subsidies to the
rest, over which it has a very imperfect control (by its Railway
Commission). It levies royalties on Yukon gold, carries out
public works, especially affecting the means of transport between
province and province; and in theory whatever functions are
not specially reserved to the provinces fall to the Dominion
government. The provincial governments, however, show the
greater activity. Ontario owns mines and railroads, Nova
Scotia coal and iron fields. " The operation of public utilities "
by the municipalities is encouraged. Over Canada with the
rise of large towns there has been an advance of municipal
socialism, not only in the largest, like Toronto, but in the newer
and smaller, such as Port Arthur on Lake Superior, where half
the local expenditure is paid by public works. Municipal
socialism is still in advance of state socialism. Yet the Dominion
has a democratic franchise, paid members, a labour department
and free education. The democratic basis is not lacking; but
the nature of the country is not such as to make it likely that
Canada will lead the way in socialistic experiments. The
protective tariff, by developing groups of manufacturing in-
dustries before their time, introduced into Canada some of the
troublesome features of urban civilization in older countries.
Accordingly trade unions became better organized. Trusts (like
that of the grocers, 1908) began to show themselves. But
socialistic propaganda was mainly confined to the mining
districts, especially in the far west.
United States. — The great American republic would seem a
better field for socialistic experiment, having more men, more
states and ample political liberty. But state socialism, in the
strict' sense of the action of the central supreme authority, is
limited by the Federal constitution, and any functions unassigned
to the central authority by the constitution fall to the separate
states. The separate states have rarely gone farther in a social-
istic direction than England itself. In the way of restriction
and regulation they have often done more (see Bryce, Amer.
Commonwealth, part, v., chap. 95). From 1876 the separate
states have had an admitted right to control undertakings having
the nature of monopolies. The railways are in private hands;
and it was not until 1887 by the Interstate and Commerce Act
(followed in 1888 by the Railway and Canals Act) that the
Federal pnwer secured control over the means of transport
running beyond one state into another. In the same way the
Anti-Trust Law of 1890 gave control over the great combinations
for " forestalling and engrossing " the supply of articles of
necessity or wide use. Socialists have regarded trusts as the
stepping-stones to state socialism; but the American people
would seem to prefer to see government controlling the trusts
rather than itself displacing them.
Trade unionism has made better progress under the Federation
of Labor than in the more ambitious Knights of Labor (1878).
Like their English counterparts, the societies in the United
States include numbers of socialists, and perhaps even more
followers of Henry George in advocacy of the nationalization of
the land and the " single tax." The death of Henry George
(1897) has not ended his influence. On the other hand the
socialists without compromise have had a " Socialistic Labor
Party " since 1877. Bellamy's socialistic Utopia, Looking
Backward (i£88), caused nearly as great a sensation as Henry
George's Progress and Poverty (1879). It led to the movement
called " Nationalism," the scope of which was the nationalizing
of the means of production generally. Of a less literary sort was
the influence of " Populism " and the People's party (formed in
1889). Mixed up with the politics of W. J. Bryan in 1896, it
lost a little of its uncompromising socialistic flavour.
General Criticisms. — If the ideal of state socialism be viewed
in an equally critical spirit, many of the objections brought
by the moderate anarchists are seen to have their weight. A
strong central government to which all power was given over
all the chief industries in the country would, they say, be contrary
to liberty. Our leaders would be too likely to become again our
masters. Supervision would become irksome. Great powers
would be a. temptation to abuse of power. A democracy with
a strong central government would need to leave much to its
chosen guardians, and to retain the same men in the position
of guardians till they fully learned the difficult business of their
office; but this in the end means either what we have now,
a government by elected leaders, who, once elected, consult
our wishes only on rare occasions, — or a government by per-
manent officials, which means liberty to go on in the old ways
but great fear and jealousy of new ways, in fact, order without
progress, no liberty of change.
This criticism becomes rather stronger than weaker if we press
the doctrine of the supremacy of the working-classes, a doctrine
that figures largely with some socialists. We are told that having
been nothing, the working-classes will be everything; having so
long been the ruled, they will be the rulers; they have produced
for all the rest, the product will now be theirs instead of another's.
This doctrine is not essential to socialism; it is indeed hardly
consistent therewith. It would not be fair to press it, for no
men know better than the scientific socialists that under modern
conditions it is in most cases quite impossible to say what is
the product of one man's labour. Articles are not made at one
stretch by one individual. The contributions of the various
hands and minds concerned from first to last in the production
of a pocket-knife or a pair of trousers would travel over our stage
like Banquo's ghostly descendants in a line that seemed to have
no ending. What the socialists demand, when they are not
declaiming to uncritical sympathizers, is not that a man should
have what he makes but that what is made by great capitals
or on great estates should be so distributed that it is not engrossed
by individuals, but satisfies the wants of as many as possible.
There is no superior enlightenment in the ordinary unskilled
or even skilled manual labourer to fit him above others for
supreme power. According to socialists and anarchists and
indeed all of us who are not incurable optimists, the hungry
generations have trodden the working man down too much to
make him instantly or even speedily fit to do the work of govern-
ment himself. He is of like passions with ourselves. He will
be perfectly qualified in process of time to share in such respons-
ible work. But at present he needs training.
3o8
SOCIAL SETTLEMENTS
The anarchists for their part do not desire the concentration
of industry and the rule of it from the centre by anybody, working
man or not — and they think the social democrats quite wrong
in believing the concentration inevitable. They point to the
fact that at the present moment there is a partial revival of
domestic industries, assisted by gas and electricity. These are
the small industries of people with small means; they make
a less imposing figure before the public than the great trusts,
such as the Steel Trust, and the Shipping Trust. The sums
involved are so immense that it might seem impossible for
competitors to cope with the trusts; therefore, it is thought,
the trusts will soon rule alone, and, lest they should rule ill, the
state should take their place. A great combination approaches
monopoly, and a far-reaching, wide-stretching monopoly (say
of the carrying trade) might mean a public danger. Should
we listen to our friends the socialists and avert the danger by
making the state the monopolist?
There seems no proof of the necessity of this extreme step.
Where there is political danger the old-fashioned method of
regulation and control by the state seems quite- equal to the
occasion. As yet the trusts are on their trial and their success
is not certain, still less their abuse of the success when it comes.
Their monopoly is not an absolute monopoly; and they have a
wholesome consciousness of the possibility of competitors. A
government trust would have none such. In some instances
there would be the further difficulty that to prevent political
friction it would need to be a trust of several nations — an idea
difficult to realize on such a scale and in such matters.
The English mind does not turn readily to state trusts; but
it finds no difficulty in municipal and local trusts. Private
local monopolies, like those of the water companies in London,
were as troublesome to the locality as any universal monopoly
of the article could be; and the remedy which even London
must find for the troubles will be the municipal trust. There
are few instances in England of successful appropriation by the
state of a business formerly competitive; railways are still
only regulated. But there are so many examples of successful
appropriation by the local authorities that the future absorption
by them or the central authority of habitually unruly companies
which have contrived in any way to abuse their monopoly may
be deemed almost certain. The great demand of the scientific
socialists is thus likely in England at least to break up into
smaller separate demands that will obtain their answer separately
by patient political action.
Socialism is making progress, but not to any great extent
state socialism. New Zealand itself, where it has perhaps done
most and best, is not a proof to the contrary, the province of
Ontario in Canada having twice the area and population. Rather
is it true that the state is more decidedly regulative. The
ultimate result, to judge by the old countries, may be that each
nation will include a community of groups more or less socialistic
in organization, but will not itself be a socialistic state. The
socialistic experiment is more likely to be tried by provinces
than by states, by districts than by provinces, by towns than by
districts. They all get their compulsory powers, as delegated
to them, from the central authority; but the central authority
itself has shown little power of originative action, and it lacks
the minute knowledge of the people on the spot. The one or
two great industries and businesses (railways, post office,
telegraphs, forests, census, coinage, in some countries) that
have formed the chief public works that are everybody's business
and nobody's business, will probably remain a state concern;
but the limits to the state's activity except in regulation soon
arrive. On the other hand, there is no visible assignable limit
to municipal or local socialism, as long as the state's parliament
leaves it a free course. If the localities choose to make social
experiments there seems no rule of general policy to prevent them,
if we put aside experiences of financial failure or of the tendency
to corruption. The great fear conjured up by the vision of
socialism has been the fear of a new despotism. The despotisms
of some hundreds of local bodies are likely to checkmate one
another, or at least always likely by their varieties of pattern
to provide a means of escape for individuals unhappy under the
rule of any one of them.
Anarchism, when at all rational, resolves the state into its
component municipalities and small groups. The question which
carries us beyond anarchism is how such groups can last and be
secure without a central state. They could only be so on the
assumption of a change in human nature of which their is no
sign. It seems not improbable that in the far future the strong
central government will be so democratic and at the same time
so wise with the wisdom of a great representative council that
all that is sound in the contentions and aspirations of anarchists
and socialists will be secured by it. Before such a future arrives,
we can best prepare for it by seeing to it whether in a new
country or an old that our representative system represents us
at our best. Our small councils and our great councils will not
of themselves become cleaner for having larger powers. If
they are not clean they are a public danger. If they are clean,
the coming socialism, whatever be its precise complexion, need
have no terrors. It too will represent the people at their best.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. — For the writings of Owen, Marx, &c., see under
their names. For the general history see John Rae's Contemporary
Socialism. For German socialism more particularly W. H. Dawson's
German Socialism and Ferdinand Lassalle. See also Karl Marx and
the Close of his System, by Bohm Bawerk (translated by Mrs J. M.
Macdonald, 1898), Der Verein fur Socialpolitik und seine Wirk-
samkeit auf dem Gebiete der gewerblichen Arbeiterfrage, by Dr E.
Conrad (1906). For English recent developments, J. Ramsay
Macdonald's Socialism and Society, and S. Ball's Progress of Socialism
in England; also articles in The Times (London) during January
1909. For Australia and New Zealand, W. P. Reeves's State Experi-
ments in Australia and New Zealand (1902). For the United States
J. G. Brooks's Social Unrest (1903). For municipal socialism see
Major Darwin's Municipal Trade (1903), and Dr F. C. Howe's
Municipal Ownership in Great Britain (Bulletin of U.S. Bureau of
Labor) ; also Municipal and Private Operation of Public Utilities
(Report of National Civic Federation, New York, 1907) and Munici-
pal Corporations (Reproductive Undertakings) (Return to House of
Commons, 1902), 141 pages of statistics. On the nationalizing of
railways see debate in House of Commons nth February 1908;
also the article RAILWAYS: Economics, For Italy, Bolton King's
"Recent Social Legislation in Italy," Economic Journal (1903) ; and for
France, J. L. Jaurks'Histoire du socialisme, and Ch. Gide's " Economic
Literature in France," Economic Journal (1907). (J. B.)
SOCIAL SETTLEMENTS, associations of men and women of
the educated classes who take up residence in the poorer
quarters of great cities for the purpose of bringing cul-
ture, knowledge, harmless recreation, and especially personal
influence to bear upon the poor in order to better and brighten
their lives. Practically, the watchword of such settlements
is personal service. To Arnold Toynbee (q.v.) may be given
the credit of leading the way in this direction, and the Hall
which Canon Barnett established (in 1885) to his memory
in the east end of London was the first material embodiment
of the movement. Since then many settlements of the same
or similar nature have sprung up in Great Britain and America,
some too on the continent of Europe and some in India and
Japan. The sympathies of young men at the universities have
been enlisted towards the movement, and an Oxford house,
a Cambridge house, and other university missions have been
founded in London. There are also many in connexion with
various religious bodies. The practical spirit is shown in the
formation of gilds, camps and institutes. Lads and girls, and
even children, are gathered together; efforts being made to
organize for them not only educational and religious opportuni-
ties, but harmless recreation, while the dwellers in the settlements
share in the games and identify themselves most sympathetically
with all the recreations. Many of the residents take also a
considerable share in the work of local administration. Women's
settlements probably are more general in the United States
than in Great Britain; but in both countries they carry out
a great variety of useful work, providing medical mission
dispensaries, district nurses, workrooms for needle-women,
hospitals for women and children, &c.
See W. Reason, University and Social Settlements (1898); S. Coit,
Neighbourhood Guilds (1892); G. Montgomery, Bibliography of
College, Social, University and Church Settlements (Boston, 1900).
SOCIETIES, LEARNED
309
SOCIETIES, LEARNED. Under ACADEMIES will be found a
general account of the principal bodies of which that word forms
part of the titles, usually denoting some kind of state support
or patronage. But that account excludes a number of important
scientific, archaeological, and literary societies, chiefly founded
and carried on by private collective effort. Most of the insti-
tutions hereinafter mentioned are still flourishing. Fine art
societies are not included.
In their modern form learned and literary societies have
their origin in the Italian academies of the Renaissance:
private scientific societies arose chiefly during the igth century,
being due to the necessity of increased organization of knowledge
and the desire among scholars for a common ground to meet, com-
pare results, and collect facts for future generalization. These
bodies rapidly tend to increase in number and to become more
and more specialized, and it has been necessary to systematize
and co-ordinate their scattered work. Many efforts have been
made from time to time to tabulate and analyse the literature
published in their proceedings, as, for instance, in the Reperlorium
of Reuss (1801-1821) and the Catalogue of Scientific Papers
of the Royal Society (1867-1902) for physics and natural science,
with its subject indexes and the indexes of Walther (1845)
and Koner (1852-1856) for German historical societies. A more
recent example may be found in G. L. Gomme's Iitdex of Archaeo-
logical Papers (1907). A further development of the work done
by societies was made in 1822, when, chiefly owing to Humboldt,
the Gesellschaft deulscher Naturforscher und Arzte first met at
Leipzig. This inauguration of the system of national congresses
was followed in 1831 by the British Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, which has served as the model for similar societies
in France, America, Italy, Australia and South Africa. The
merit of introducing the idea of migratory congresses into France
is due to the distinguished archaeologist, M. Arcisse de Caumont
(1802-1873), who established the Association Normande, which
from 1845 held a reunion in one or other of the towns of the
province for the discussion of matters relating to history, archae-
ology, science and agriculture, with local exhibitions. From the
same initiation came the Congres Archeologique.de, France (1834),
which was organized by the Societe Franc,aise pour la Conserva-
tion des Monuments Historiques, the Congres Scientifique, which
held its first meeting at Caen in 1833 (directed by the Institut
des Provinces), and the Congres des Socieles Savantes des Departe-
ments, which for many years after 1850 held its annual sittings
at Paris. The idea received the sanction of the French govern-
ment in 1 86 1, when a Congres des Societes Savantes was first
convoked at the Sorbonne by the minister of public instruction,
who had in 1846 produced an Annuaire des Societes Savantes.
In Italy Charles Bonaparte, prince of Canino, started an associa-
tion with like objects, which held its first meeting at Pisa in 1839.
Russia has had an itinerant gathering of naturalists since 1867.
International meetings are a natural growth from national
congresses. Two remarkable examples of these cosmopolitan
societies are the Congres International d' Archtologie el d'Anthro-
pologie Prehisloriques, founded at Spezzia in 1865, and the
Congres International des Orientalistes (1873).
I. SCIENCE GENERALLY
UNITED KINGDOM. — First in antiquity and dignity among English
societies comes the ROYAL SOCIETY (q.v.) of London, which dates
from 1660. In 1683 William Molyneux, the author of The Case of
Ireland Stated, exerted himself to form a society in Dublin after
the pattern of that of London. In consequence of his efforts and
labours the Dublin Philosophical Society was established in January
1684, with Sir William Petty as first president. The members
subsequently acquired a botanic garden, a laboratory and a museum,
and placed themselves in communication with the Royal Society
of London. Their meetings after 1686 were few and irregular, and
came to an end at the commencement of hostilities between James
II. and William III. The society was reorganized in 1693 at Trinity
College, Dublin, where meetings took place during several years.
On 25th June 1731, chiefly owing to the exertions of Dr S. M.
Madden, the Dublin Society for Improving Husbandry, Manufactures,
and other Useful Arts came into existence. In January 1737 they
commenced to publish the Dublin Society's Weekly Observations,
and in 1746 the society was placed on the civil establishment,
with an allowance of £500 a year from the government. A charter
•of incorporation was granted in 1750, and seven years later the
Royal Dublin Society for the first time owned a house of its own,
and in the following year began the drawing school, which subse-
quently did so much for Irish art. Between 1761 and 1767 govern-
ment grants to the amount of £tXoXo7oc4s<76XXo7osIIapi'a'o. Entomol. Ges. (1881),
Ztschr.; Ver. zum Beford. des Seidenbaues, Jahresber. (1869, &c.);
Physiolog. Ges. (1875), Verhandl. (1877, &c.). Breslau, Physiolog.
Inst., Studien (1861, &c.) ; Ver. f. Schles. Insektenkunde, Zeitschr,
(1847, &c.). Brunswick, Deutsche Ornitholog. Ges. Carls'ruhe,
Badischer Ver. f. Gefltigelzucht, Monatsblatt (1872, &c.). Franken-
berg, Bienemvirthschaftl. Haupt-Ver., Sachs. Bienenfreund (1865,
&c.). Frankfort, Zoolog. Ges., Der Zoolog. Garten (1860, &c.);
Deutsche Malakozoolog. Ges. (1868), Jahrbiicher (1874-1887) and Nach-
richtsblatt (1869, &c.). Halberstadt, Deutsche Ornitholog. Ges. Halle,
Ornitholog. Central-Ver. Hamburg, Zoolog. Ges., Ber. (1862, &c.).
Hanover, Bienenwirthschaftl. Central-Ver., Centralblalt (1865, &c.).
Leipzig, Sachs. Seidenbau Ver., Zeitschr. (1868, &c.). Munich,
Entomolog. Ver. (1876); Fischerei Ver., Mittheil. (1876, &c.). Nord-
lingen, Ver. Deutscher Bienenwirthe, B.-Zeitung (1845, &c.). Ratisbon
Zoolog.-mineralog. Ver. (seeclassi.). Stettin, Ornitholog. Ver. (1873),
Jahresber. (187-5, &c.); Entomolog. Ver. (1837), Enl. Zeitung (1840,
&c.). Trieste, 'Zoolog. Inst. u. Zoolog. Station (1875), Arbeiten (1878,
&c.). Troppau, Schles. Bienenzucht-Ver. (1873). Vienna, Entomolog.
Ver.; Embryolog. Inst., Mittheil. (1871, &c.); Ornitholog. Ver.
Wtirzburg, Zoolog.-zootomisches Inst. (1872), Arbeiten (1874, &C.X
SWITZERLAND: Bern, Schweiz. Entomolog. Ges. (1858), Mitteil. (1862,
&c.). Geneva, Assoc. Zoolog. du Leman; Soc. Ornitholog. Suisse
SOCIETIES, LEARNED
(1865), Bull. (1866, &c.). Zurich, Internal. Entomologenverein (1886),
Societas Entomologica (1886, &c.)- ITALY: Casale, Soc. Bacologica,
Boll. (1866, &c.). Florence, Soc. Allantina /to/., La Sericoltura (1865,
&c.); Soc. Enlomolog. Ital., Boll. (1869, &c.). Naples, Zoolog.
Station, Mittheil. (1878). Palermo, Soc. diAcdimaz., Atti (1861, &c.).
Pisa, Soc. Malacolog. Ital., Boll. (1875, &c.)- Rome, Soc. di Pisicolt.
Ital. (1872). BELGIUM: Antwerp, Soc. Roy. de Zoologie (1843) with
Jardin Zool. and Mus. Brussels, Soc. Roy. de Zoologie et Malacolo-
gique de Beige (1863), Annales (1870, &c.); Soc. Entomolog. de
Belgique (1856), Annales and Bull. (1857, &c.)- HOLLAND:
Amsterdam, K. Zoolog. Genootschap "Natura Artis Magistra " (1838),
Bijdragen (1848), Jaarboekje (1852, &c.) and Tijdschr. (1863,
&c.), zoolog. garden and museum. The Hague, Nederl. Entomolog.
Vereen., Tijdschr. (1857, &c.). Rotterdam, Nederl. Dierkundige
Vereen., Tijdschr. (1874, &c.). NORWAY: Bergen, Selskabet for
Norges Fiskerier. Christiania, Del Biol. Selskab. (1894), Aaresber.
SWEDEN: Stockholm, Entomolog. Forening (1879), Ent. Tidskrift
(1880, &c.). RUSSIA: Moscow, Acclimat. Soc. St Petersburg, Rus-
sian Entomolog. Soc. (1859), Horae societalis entom. ross. ARGEN-
TINE REPUBLIC: Buenos Aires, Soc. Zoolog. Argentina, Period.
Zoolog. (1875, &c.); Soc. Entomolog. Argent.
XI. ANTHROPOLOGY
The Congres International d' Anthropologie et d' Archeologie Pre-
hisloriques held its first meeting at Neuchatel in 1866; it issues
Comptes rendus (1866, &c.). The Royal Anthropological Institute of
Great Britain and Ireland was founded in 1871 upon the Ethno-
logical Society (1843), which published a Journal (1848-1856) and
Transactions (1859-1869), and the Anthropological Society (1863),
which issued Memoirs (1863-1869) and the Anthropological Review
(1864-1870). The Institute brings out a Journal (1871, &c.).
Sydney, Roy. Anthropolog. Soc. (1896). Bombay, The Gatha Soc.
(1903), occasional pamphlets.
UNITED STATES: Cleveland, Amer. Inst. Antkrop. (1890),
Journal. New York, Amer. Ethnolog. Soc. (1842), Trans, (1845-
1853) and Bull. (1860-1861); formerly Anthropolog. Inst., Journ.
(1871). Washington, Anthropolog. Soc. (1879), Trans. (1882, &c.);
Amer. Anthrop. Assoc. (1902), Amer. Anthropologist. Havana
(Cuba), Soc. Antrop. FRANCE: Grenoble, Soc. dauphinoise d'Ethn.
et d' Anthrop. (1894), Bull. (1894, &c.). Lyons, Soc. d' Anthrop.
(1881), Bull. (1881, &c.). Paris, Soc. d' Anthropologie (1859; re-
cognized 1864), Bull, and Mem. (1860, &c.); Soc. d'Ethnogr.,
Annuai-e (1862, &c.), and Revue (1869, &c.); Soc. des Traditions
Populaires (1886) Revue (1886, &c.). GERMANY and AUSTRIA-
HUNGARY: Berlin, Ges. f. Anthropologie, &c. (1869), Ztschr. (1870,
&c.) and Verhandl. (1871, &C.)L Deutsche Ges. fur Anthrop., Ethn. &c.
(1870), Archiv (1866, &c.). Brunswick, Deutsche Ges. f. Anthro-
pologie, Architi (1870, &c.) and Corr-Blatt (1874, &c.). Budapest,
Magyar Neprajzi Tdrsasdg (i 889) , Ethnographia (i 889, &c.). Cologne,
Ver. zur Forderung des Stadt-Rautenstrauch-Joest Museums fiir
Volkerkunde (1904), Jahresber. (1904, &c.). Gorlitz, Ges. fur Anthrop.
&c. (1888), Jahreshefte. Gottingen, Anthropolog. Ver., Mittheil.
(1874, &c.). Kiel, Anthrop. Ver. (1877), Mitteil. (1888, &c.).
Leipzig, Ver. f. Anthropolog., Ber. (1871, &c.), afterwards joined to
the Ver. der Erdk. Munich, Ges. f. Anthropolog. &c. (1870), Beitr.
(1876, &c.). Stuttgart,^ nthropolog. Ges. (1871), Fundber. (1893, &c.).
Vienna, Anthropolog. Ges. (1870), Mittheil. (1870, &c.). ITALY:
Florence, Soc. Ital. di Antropologia (1868), Archivio (1871, &c.).
BELGIUM: Brussels, Soc. d'Anthrop., Bull. (1882, &c.). SWEDEN:
Stockholm, Svenska Sallskapet for Antrop. (1873), Tidskrift (1873,
&c.). SPAIN: Madrid, Soc. Antropolog. Esp., Revista (1875, &c.).
RUSSIA: St Petersburg, Russian Anthrop. Soc. (1888), Protokoly-
zasedanij (1901, &c.).
XII. SOCIOLOGY (Economic Science, Statistics, Law, Education)
The international societies are the Association Internationale pour
le Progres des Sciences Sociales and the Congres International de
Statistique, which first met at Brussels in 1853. Both have issued
Comptes rendus. The Congres International de Bienfaisance may be
traced to a suggestion at the Congres Penitentiaire held at Frankfort
in 1847. The first meeting took place at Brussels in 1856. The
Inst. Internal, de Sociplogie (1893) has its headquarters at Paris.
The National Association for the Promotion of Social Science (1857)
had united with it in 1864 the Society for Promoting the Amendment
of the Law. It held a yearly migratory meeting, and published
Transactions (1858, &c.) and Social Science (1866; &c.). The Socio-
logical Soc., the Eugenics Education Soc, and the Roy. Economic
Soc. are established in London. The Royal Statistical Society (1834),
incorporated 1887, publishes a Journal (1839, &c.); Cobden Club
(1866), for the diffusion of the political and economical principles
with which Cobden's name is associated, has issued a variety of
publications; Institute of Actuaries (incorp. 1884); Institute of
Chartered Accountants (1880); Institute of Bankers (1879); the
Society of Incorporated Accountants and Auditors (1885), and the
Chartered Institute of Secretaries, also meet in London. There are
also the Manchester Statistical Society (1833), with Transactions; the
Faculty of Actuaries in Scotland and the Scottish Society of
Economists (1897), both meeting at Edinburgh; and the Statistical
and Social Inquiry Society of Ireland (1847), with a Journal,
at Dublin. After the INNS OF COURT (q.v.), the most important of
British legal societies is the Law Society (1827, incorporated 1832,
reincorp. 1845); it began courses of lectures for students in 1833,
and was appointed registrar of solicitors ten years later, and ob-
tained supplementary charters in 1845 and 1878. This society has
a fine building, with library and examination hall in Chancery Lane,
London. There are over 70 provincial societies, most of them being
associated with the parent body. The Verulam Society (1846)
published a few books and came to an end. The Selden Society,
established in 1887 for the promotion of the study of the history of
law, prints ancient records. The headquarters of the Association for
the Reform and Codification of the Law of Nations are in London, but
conferences are held in various continental towns. The Chartered
Institute of Patent Agents (founded 1882, incorporated 1891) issues
Transactions. The Juridical Society of Edinburgh (1773) published
five editions of a Complete System of Conveyancing. The Ascham
Society was founded in 1879 for the improvement of educational
methods; and the Society for the Development of the Science of Educa-
tion (1875) issued Transactions.
UNITED STATES: Baltimore, Amer. Pol. Sc. Assoc. (1903), Proc.
Boston, Amer. Soc. Sc. Assoc.; Amer. Statist. Assoc. (1839), Collec-
tions (1847, &c.). Cambridge, Amer. Econ. Assoc. (1886). New York,
Am. Inst. of Social Service, Social Service (i899,&c.) ; Actuarial Soc. of
Amer. (1899) ; Philadelphia, A mer. A cad. Pol. and Social Sc. (1899), An-
nals ; A merican Bar A ssoc. , Reports ; A ssn. of A mer. Law Schools ( I go I ) .
Washington, Amer. Soc. of Int. Law (1906), Journal; Nat. Educ.
Assoc. (1857), Proc. FRANCE: Grenoble, Soc. de Statist. (1838), Bull.
(1838, &c.). Marseilles, Soc. de Statist. (1827), Repertoire (1837,
&cj; Soc. Sc. industr: (1871), Bull. (1872, &c.). Paris, Soc. Int. des
Etudes Pratiques d'Econ. (1856, recognized 1869); Soc. Fran, de
Statist. Univ. (1829), Journal issued jointly with Acad. Nat. since
1849; Soc. de Statist, de Paris (1860, recognized 1869), Journ. (1860,
&c.); Soc. de Legislation Comparee (1869, recognized 1873), Bull.,
Annuaire de Leg. Franc.., and Ann. de Leg. Elran.; Soc. pour Vlnstr.
Element (1815, recognized 1831), Bull.; Soc. de Linguistique (1864),
Mem. (1868, &c.); Soc. de I ' Enseignement Superieure (1878), Rev.
(1881, &c.); Soc. d'Econ. Sociale (1856), Les Ouvriers des deux
mondes (1857, &c.), La Reforme sociale (1881, &c.); Soc. d'Econ.
Pol. (1842), Annales (1846-1847), Bull. (1888, &c.) ; Soc. del'Ecoledes
Charles (1839), Mem. St Maixent, Soc. de Statist, des Deux-Sevres.
Toulouse, Acad. de Legis. (1851), Rec. (1851, &c.). GERMANY and
AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: Debreczen, Magyar Kir Gazdasdgi Akad.
(1868). Berlin, Volkswirths. Ges. (1860), Volkswirths. Zeitfragen
(1879, &c.); Ver.f. deutsche Volkswirths. (1876), Ztschr. (1880, &c.);
Ver.f. Forderung d. Handelsfreiheit (1878), Mittheil. (1879, &c.) ; Ver.
f. d. Statist.; Jurist. Ges. (1859), Jahresber. (1863, &c.). Dresden,
Statistischer Ver. (1831), Mittheil. Frankfort, Statistische Ges.;
Juristische Ges. (1866), Rundschau (1867, &c.); Akad. fiir Sozial- u.
Handels'diissenschaflen (1901). Freiburg, Badische Heimat (1893),
Volkeskunde. Halle, Kantgesellschaft (1904), Kantstudien. Lai-
bach, Jurist. Ges. Leipzig, Ver. f. wiss. Padagogik, Jahrbuch and
Mittheil. ITALY : Tortona, Soc. di Storia Economia, Boll. BELGIUM :
Brussels, Ligue de V Enseignement (1864), Bull.; Soc. Centr. des
Instituteurs Beiges (1860), Le Progres; Inst. Solvay de Sociologie
(1901). HOLLAND: Amsterdam, Ver. voor de Statist, in Nederland,
Jaarboekje (1849, &c.) and Jaarcijfers (1882, &c.). SPAIN: Madrid,
Junta Estadist; R. Acad. de Jurisprudencia y Legis. (1763, 1826);
R. Acad. de Ciencias Mor. y Pol. (1857). RUSSIA: Moscow, Juri-
dical Soc. St Petersburg, Pedagogical Soc. EGYPT: Cairo, Bureau
Central de Statist. HAVANA (Cuba), Soc. Econ. de Amigos del Pais
(1792), Memorias. JAPAN: Tokio, Statist. Soc.
XIII. MEDICINE AND SURGERY
The first meeting of the Congres Medical International was held at
Paris in 1867; a Bulletin has been issued annually since 1868, and
the first Surgical Congress was held in Paris in 1885. The first
Congres Periodique Internal. d'Ophthalmologie took place at Brussels in
1857. The Royal Colleges of Physicians and of Surgeons of London,
Edinburgh and Dublin dp not come within our scope. The Medical
Society of London (1773) is the oldest in the metropolis; it has issued
Memoirs (1787-1805), Transactions (i8ip, &c.), and Proceedings
(1872, &c.). The Royal Society of Medicine was formed, by Royal
charter, in 1907 by the amalgamation of the following societies:
Roy. Med. and Chir. Soc. (1805), Pathological Soc. (1846), Epi-
demiological Soc. (1850), Odontol. Soc. of Gt. Britain (1856), Obstetrical
Soc. (1858), Clinical Soc. (1867), Dermatolvgical Soc. of London (1882),
British Gynaecological Soc. (1884), Neurolog. Soc. (1886), British
Laryngol. Rhinol. and Otological Assoc. (1888), Laryngol. Soc. (1893),
Soc. of Anaesthetists (1893), Dermatol. Soc. of Gt. Brit, and Ireland
(1894), Otological Soc. (1899), Soc. for Study of Diseases in Children
(1900), British Electro-therapeutic Soc. (1901) and the Therapeutical
Soc. (1902). Most of these societies have separate Transactions or
Proceedings. Other London societies (past and present) include the
Abernethian Society (1795), which issues Proceedings; British Dental
Association (1880), with a Journal (1880, &c.) ; British Homoeopathic
Association (1859), with Annals (1860, &c.) ; British Medical
Association (1832), which has more than forty home and colonial
branches, and publishes British Medical Journal (1857, &c.); Hahne-
mann Publishing Society (1852), Materia Medica (1852, &c.) ;
Harveian Society (1831); Hunterian Society (1819), Trans.; Lister
Institute (incorp. 1891); Medico-Legal Soc. of London, Trans.;
316
SOCIETIES, LEARNED
Medito-Psycholog. Assn. of Gt. Britain and Ireland (1841, incorp.
1895); New Sydenham Society (1858), which published Biennial
Retrospect (1867, &c.), and translations and reprints of books and
papers of value, succeeded the old Sydenham Society (1844-1858),
which issued 40 vols. ; Ophthalmological Society (1880), Trans.;
Pharmaceutical Society (1841), with museum, Pharmaceutical Journal
(1842, &c.); Physiological Association (1876), Journ. of Physiology
(1878, &c.); Rontgen Soc., Journal; Royal Institute of Public Health
(1886, incorp. 1892), Journ. Royal Sanitary Institute (1876, incorp.
1888), the council of which appoints examiners, directs Parkes
Museum, founded in 1876 in memory of Dr E. A. Parkes; Society of
Medical Officers of Health (1856), Trans, and Public Health; Soc. of
Public Analysts, Analyst. The provincial societies are very numerous
and include: Bradford, Med. Chir. Soc. (1863); Bristol, Med. Chir.
Soc.; Cardiff, Med. Soc. (1870); Liverpool, Sch. of Tropical Med.
(1898, incorp. 1905), Memoirs; Manchester, Med. Soc. (1848);
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, North, and Durham Med. Soc. (1848).
Dublin, Roy. Acad. of Med. in Ireland (1882), Trans. (1883, &c.) ;
Pharmac. Soc. of Ireland (1875). Edinburgh, Roy. Med. Soc.
(1737; charter 1778); Harveian Soc. (1752); Medico- Chirurg. Soc.
(1821), Trans. (1824, &c.); and Obstetrical Soc. (1840). Aberdeen,
Med. Chir. Soc. (1789). Glasgow, Medico-Chirurg. Soc. (1866),
based upon Med. Soc. and Med.-Chirurg. Soc. (both 1814), joined
by Path. Soc. in 1907.
AUSTRALIA: Melbourne, Med. Soc. of Victoria, Austr. Med. Journ.
(1856, &c.). CANADA: Montreal, Union Med. du Canada, Revue
(1872, &c.); Canada Med. Assoc., Trans. (1877, &c.). INDIA: Bom-
bay, Med. and Physical Soc., Trans. (1838, &c.). Calcutta, Med.
Soc., Trans. (1883, &c.).
UNITED STATES: Amer. Pub. Health Assoc., Reports (1873, &c.);
Amer. Dental Assoc., Trans. (1860, &c.) ; and Amer. Inst. of Homoeop.,
Trans. (1878, &c.). The headquarters of the American Medical
Association (1847) are at Chicago; it publishes a Journal. The
American Surgical Association (1880) unites at Washington every
third year with the Congress of American Physicians and Surgeons.
The State medical associations include those of Alabama, Trans.
(1869, &c.) ; Georgia, Trans. (1873, &c.); Maine, Trans. (1853, &c.);
Missouri, Trans. (1851, &c.); and South Carolina, Trans. The
State medical societies include those of Arkansas, Trans. (1877, &c.) ;
California, Trans. (1870, &c.); Illinois, Trans. (1851, &c.); Kansas,
Trans. (1867, &c.); Michigan, Trans. (1869, &c.); Minnesota, Trans.
(1874, &c.); Nebraska, Trans. (1869, &c.); New Jersey, Trans.
(1859, &c.); Pennsylvania, Trans. (1851, &c.); Rhode Island, Trans.
(1877, &c.) ; Texas, Trans. (1874) ; and Wisconsin, Trans. (1880, &c.).
To these have to be added the following town associations. Albany,
Med. Soc., Journal (1807, &c.). Baltimore, Med. and Chirurg.
Faculty of Maryland, Trans. (1856, &c.). Boston, Amer. Gynaecolog.
Soc., Trans. (1876, &c.); Mass. Medico-Legal Soc., Trans. (1878,
&c.). Denver, Acad. of Med. (1903). New York, Acad. of Med.,
Trans. (1847, &c.) and Bull. (1860, &c.); Med. Soc., Trans. (1815,
&c.); Medico-Chirurg. Soc., Trans. (1878, &c.) ; Amer. Surg. Assoc.,
Trans. (1883, &c.); Medico-Legal Soc., Sanitarian (1873, &c.); Amer.
Ophthalmolog. Soc., Trans. (1865, &c.); Path. Soc. (1844), Trans.
(1875-1879), Proc. (1888, &c.). Philadelphia, Med. Soc., Trans.
(1850, &c.); Obstet. Soc., Trans. (1869, &c.); Amer. Pharm. Assoc.,
Proc.; Patholog. Soc. (1857), Trans. (1897, &c.); Coll. of Physicians
(1787); Amer. Soc. of Tropical Med. (1903). Richmond, Med.
Soc., Trans. (1871, &c.).
FRANCE: Besancon, Soc. de Med. (1845), Bull. (1845, &c.).
Bordeaux, Soc. de Med. (1798), Journ. (1829, &c.); Soc. de Pharm.
(1834), Bull. (1860, &c.); Soc. de Med. et de Chirurg.; Soc. a' Anal, et
de Physiol. (1879), Bull. (1880). Caen, Soc. de Med. (1799; known
by its present name since 1875), Journal (1829), Mem. (1869).
Chambery, Soc. de Med. (1848), Comptes rend. (1848, &c.) and Butt.
(1859, &c.). Grenoble, Soc. de Med. Havre, Soc. de Pharm. (1858),
Mem. Lille, Soc. de Med. (1843), Bull. (1845, &c.). Lyons, Soc. Nat.
de Med. (1789), Le Lyon med. (1869, &c.). Marseilles, Soc. de Med.
(1800), Comptes rend. (1826-1853) and Le Mars. med. (1869, &c.) ;
Soc. Med.-Chirurg. (1872). Paris, Soc. de Med. Pratique (1808), Bull. ;
Acad. Nat. de Med. (1820); Soc. Nat. de Chirurg. (1843, reorganized
1859), Mem. (1847, &c.) and Bull. (1851, &c.); Soc. Anal. (1803),
Bull. (1826, &c.); Soc. Clinique, Bull. (1877, &c.); Soc. Med. des
Hopitaux, Bull. (1849, &c.); Soc. Med. Legate; Soc. de Pharm.
(1803), Journ. (1815, &c.); Soc. de Therapeutique; Soc. Fran, de
Hygiene; Soc. Centr. de Med. Veterinaire (1844), Bull.; Assoc. Int.
de Tlnst. Marey (1898) (for examining physiological methods and
apparatus), Bull., Travaux. Rouen, Soc. de Med. (1821), Union Med.
(1861, &c.); Soc. Libre des Pharmaciens (1802), Bull. Toulouse, Soc.
de Med. (1801), Bull, and Revue (1867, &c.). Tours,. Soc. Med.
(1801). GERMANY and AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: Deutscher Arztevereins-
bund (1872), Verhandl.; Central Ver. a. Zahnarzte (1859), Miltheil.;
D. Veterinarrath (1874) ; D. Apotheker- Ver. (1820), Archiv (1822, &c.).
Berlin, Ver. f. Heilkunde (1832), Magazin (1835, &c.); Ges. f.
Geburtshiilfe u. Gynaekologie (1876), Ztschr. (1877, &c.); Ges. f.
Heilkunde (1855); Berl. Med. Ges. (1860), Verhandl. (1865, &c.);
Physiolog. Ges. (1875), Verhandl. (1877, &c.); D.'Ver. f. Med.
Statistik (1868); Ver. Homoop. Arzte (1871), Ztschr. (1882, &c.).; D.
Ges. f. Chirurgie (1872), Verhandl. Bonn, Verband der Arztl,
Vereine (1865). Breslau. Ver. f. Physiolog. Heilkunde (1848), Ztschr.
(1850, &c.); Verband d. Schles. Arzte-Ver. (1878). Cologne, Rhein.
Med.-Chirurg. Ver. (1848), Organ (1852, &c.). Darmstadt, Arztl.
Kreisver. (1844). Dresden, Ges.f. Natur- u. Heil-Kunde (1818),
Jahresber. (1848, &c.). Erlangen, Physik.-Med. Soc. (1808), Sitzungs-
ber. (1870, &c.). Frankfort, Arztl. Ver. (1845), Jahresber. (1857, &c.).
Hamburg, Arztl. Ver. (1816); Deutsche Ges. fur Gesch. der Medizin
(1901), Mitteil. Hanover, Ver. Analyt. Chemiker (1878). Heidelberg,
Ophthal. Ges. (1857). Jena. Med.-naturunssenschaftliche Ges. (1854),
Zeitschr. (1874, &c.). Konigsberg, Ver. f. wiss. Heilkunde (1851).
Leipzig, Med. Ges. (1829); Ges. f. Geburtshiilfe (1854), Mittheil.;
Homoop. Central-Ver. (1829); Magdeburg, D. Chirurgen-Ver.
(1844), Ztschr. (1847, &c.). Munich, Arztl. Ver. (1833), Int.-
Blatt (1854, &c.). Strasburg, Soc. de Med. (1842), Mem. (1850,
&c.); Soc. Veterin. (1864); Medizinisch.-Naturwissenschaftlicher Ver.
(1873). Stuttgart, Wiirttemb. Arztl. Ver. (1831), Corr.-Blatt (1832,
&c.); Hahnemannia (1868), .Mittheil. (1873, &c.); Apotheker -Ver.
(1822), Pharm. Wochenblatt (1861, &c.). Vienna, K. k. Ges. der Arzter
Ztschr. (1844, &c.); Ges. fur innere Medizin u. Kinderheilkunde,
Med. Wochenschrift. Weimar, Med.-naturwiss. Ver. (1863). Wiirz-
burg, Physikal.-med. Ges. (1849), Verhandl. (1850, &c.). SWITZER-
LAND: Geneva, Soc. Med. Zurich, Soc. de Med.; Schweiz. Apotheker-
Ver. ITALY: Bologna, Soc. Med.-chirurg. Genoa, Accad. Med.-
chirurg. Milan, Soc. Ital. d' Igiena. Modena, Soc. Med.-chirurg.
Naples, Real Accad. Med.-chirurg. Palermo, R. Accad. delle Sc.
Med. (1649), Atti (1889, &c.). Rome, R. Istit. Fisico-patologico.
Turin, Accad. Real Med.-chirurg. BELGIUM : Antwerp, Soc. de Med.
(1839), Annales. Brussels, Acad. Roy. de Med. (1841), Bull. (1841,
&c.) and Mem. (1843, &c.); Soc. Roy de Pharm. (1845), Bull.; Soc.
d'Anat. Patholog. (1846), Annales; Soc. Beige de Med. Homoeop.; Soc.
Roy. des Sc. Med. et Nat. (1822), Journal (1842, &c.), Annales (1892,
&c.), Bulletin (1843, £c.) ; Inst. Solvay de Physiol. (1894), with electro-
physiological, chemical, embryological and other laboratories, and
lecture hall. Ghent, Soc. de Med. (1834), Annales. Li6ge, Soc. Med.-
chirurg. HOLLAND: Amsterdam, Genootschap ter Bevordering der^
Genees- en Heel-Kunde, Verhandel. (1841, &c.); Nederl. Maatschappij
ter Bevord. der Pharmacie. Batavia (Java), Geneeskundige Vereem-
ging. DENMARK: Copenhagen, K. Med. Selskab; Veterinaer Selskab.
NORWAY : Christiania, Med. Selskab, Magazin (1840, &c.)- SWEDEN:
Stockholm, Farmaceutiska Inst.; Svenska Lakaresallskapet (1808),
Handl. (1813, &c.). Upsala, Lakareforenig, Forhandl. (1865, &c.).
SPAIN: Madrid, R. Acad. Med. (1732). PORTUGAL: Lisbon, Soc. de
Sc. Med. (1835), Jornal (1835, &c.); Soc. Pharm. Lusitana. RUSSIA:
Dorpat, Pharm. Soc. Helsingfors, Finska Lakaresallskapet (1835),
Handl. (1841). Moscow, Phys.-med. Soc. Riga, Soc. of Practical
Physicians. St Petersburg, Soc. of Practical Physicians; Imp.
Pharm. Soc. Vilna, Imp. Med. Soc. (1805), Protokoly. Warsaw, Med.-
Chirurg. Soc. Tomsk (Siberia), Soc. of Naturalists and Physicians
(1889), Protocol. RUMANIA : Jassy, Soc. of Naturalists and Physicians
(1830), Buletinul. GREECE : Athens, Soc. Med. TURKEY : Constanti-
nople, Soc. Imp. de Med.; Soc. de Pharm. CENTRAL and SOUTH
AMERICA: Buenos Aires, Asoc. Med. Caracas, Escuela Med. Guada-
lajara (Mexico), Soc. Med. Merida (Mexico), Soc. Med. Mexico, Acad.
de Med. ; Soc. Med. Monte Video, Soc. de Med. Rio de Janeiro,
Institute Oswaldo Cruz, formerly Institute de Manguinhos (for the pro-
motion of experimental pathology) ; Soc. Med. e Cirurgia. Santiago,
Soc. Med. JAPAN: Tokyo, Soc. for Adv. of Med. Sc., Trans. (1885,
&c.).
XIV. ENGINEERING AND ARCHITECTURE
The principal English society dealing with mechanical science is
the Institution of Civil Engineers (established in 1818, incorporated in
1828), which publishes Transactions (410, 1836-1842) and Minutes of
Proceedings (8vo, 1837, &c.). George Stephenson was the first
president of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers, which was
founded at Birmingham in 1847, removed to London in 1877, and
registered under the Companies Act in 1878. It holds migratory
meetings and publishes Proceedings. The Society of Engineers (1854),
with Transactions (1861, &c.) ; the Civil and Mechanical Engineers'
Society (1859) ; the Iron and Steel Institute (1869, incorp. 1899), with
Journal and Mem.; the Surveyors' Institution (1868, incorporated in
1881), which publishes Transactions and holds professional examina-
tions; the Aeronautical Society of Great Britain (1866), the Institu-
tion of Electrical Engineers (1871, incorp. 1883), Journal; the
Institution of Mining Engineers has associated with it many branch
institutions in the provinces, Journal; the Institute of Gas Engineers
(1863); the Illuminating Engineers' Soc. (1909); the Institute of
Metals; and the Instn. of Mining and Metallurgy, meet in
London. There are institutions in the provinces at Bradford,
Bristol, Cardiff (1857, incorp. in 1881), Chesterfield (1871), Dublin
(1835, incorp. in 1857), Glasgow (1857, with Transactions), Liverpool
(1875), Middlesbrough (1864), Newcastle-upon-Tyne (1852, incorp.
in 1876, with Transactions), Nottingham (1871), Dudley (1866),
and Belfast (1892).
The leading architectural society is the Royal Institute of British
Architects, founded in 1834, incorporated in 1837, and granted new
charters in 1887 and 1908. It appoints examining professional
boards and publishes Transactions (1836; 1879, &c.) and Proceedings
(1879, &c.). There are also the associations of Birmingham (1873),
Edinburgh (1850), Exeter (1843), Glasgow (1868), Leeds (1876),
Leicestershire (1855), Liverpool (1848), Manchester (1875), Newcastle-
upon-Tyne, and the societies of Manchester (1865) and Oxford (1837).
SOCIETIES, LEARNED
The Architectural Association of London publishes a Sketch Book
(1870, &c.). The Architectural Publishing Society (1848) has published
Essays (1848-1852), and since 1852 has been bringing out a Dictionary
of Architecture. There is also a Society of Architects (1884, incorp.
1893). The Roy. Inst. of Architects of Ireland meets in Dublin and
publishes a Journal.
UNITED STATES: New York, Insl. of Mining, Engineers. Amer.
Soc. of Civ. Eng. Trans.; Amer. Soc. of Mec.h. Eng., Trans.;
Amer. Inst. of Min. Eng.; Amer. Inst. of Architects (1857);
Washington, Society of Naval Eng. FRANCE: Lyons, Soc. Acad.
d'Arch. (1830), Annales (1867, &c.). Paris, Soc. des Ingenieurs Civils,
Annuaire (1848, &c.) ; Soc. Cent, des Architectes, Bull. (1851, &c.) and
Annales (1875, &c.) ; it has held a congress since 1875. Saint-
Etienne, Soc. de I'Jndustrie Min. (1855), Bull. GERMANY and
AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: Berlin, Ver. Deutscher Ingenieure, Ztschr.
(1857) and Wochenschrift (1877, &c.); Ver.f. Eisenbahnkunde; Akad.
des Bauwesens; Architekten-Ver., Ztschr. Breslau, Ver. f. Ges. der
Bild. K-iinste (1862). Constance, Miinsterbau Ver. (1881). Dresden,
Sachs. Ingen.-u. Architekten-Ver., Protok. Hanover, Arch.-u. Ingen.
Ver., Ztschr. Klagenfurt, Berg-und Hutlen-Mdnnischer Ver. Leoben,
K. k. Berg-Akad. Munich, Bayr. Arch.- u. Ingen.-Ver., Ztschr.
Prague, Arch.- und Ingen.-Ver. Vienna, Osterr. Ingen.- u. Arch.
Ver., Ztschr.; Ges. f. Bild. Kiinste. SWITZERLAND: Lausanne,
Soc. Vaudoise des Ingen. et des Arch. Zurich, Ver. Schweiz. Ingen.
u. Arch. ITALY: Turin, Soc. degli Ingeneri, Atti (1868-1870).
BELGIUM: Brussels, Assoc. des Ingen. Li6ge, Assoc. des Ingen. (1847),
Annuaire (1851, &c.)- HOLLAND: Amsterdam, Maatschappij ter
Bevordering der Bouwkunst, Bouwkundige Bijdragen (1843, &c.).
The Hague, Kon. Inst. van Ingen., Verslag (1848, &c.), Verhandel.
(1848, &c.) and Tijdschr. (1870, &c.). SPAIN and PORTUGAL : Lisbon,
Assoc. dos Engenheiros Civ. Port.; Soc. dos Architectos e Archeologos.
Madrid, Soc. Central de Arquitectos.
XV. NAVAL AND MILITARY SCIENCE
The Royal United Service Institution, first known as the Naval and
Military Library and Museum (1831), took the name of the United
Service Institution in 1839, and was incorporated in 1860; its
professional museum is housed in the banqueting hall at Whitehall ;
it publishes a Journal (1857, &c.). The Institution of Naval
Architects (1860) publishes Transactions (4to, 1860, &c.). The
Royal Artillery Institution (1838), which issues Minutes of Pro-
ceedings (i 858, &c.) , is at Woolwich, and the Royal Engineers' Institute
(1875) , which issues Royal Engineers' Professional Papers, at Chatham.
The Navy Records Soc. (1893) publishes works connected with the
history of the British Navy. CANADA: Toronto, Military Inst.
INDIA : Simla, United Service Institution.
UNITED STATES: New York, Military Service Inst. (1877), Journal
(1879, &c.); Soc. of Naval Architects and Marine Eng., Proc. Anna-
polis, U.S. Naval Institute (1873), Proc. FRANCE: Paris, Reunion
des Officers, now Cercle Militaire, Bull. (1871, &c.)- GERMANY
and AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: Munich, Militar. Ges. (1868), Jahrbuch.
(1871, &c.). Vienna, K. k. Milit.-Geogr. Inst., Arbeiten (1871, &c.).
HOLLAND: Utrecht, Vereen. tot Verspreiding van Kennis aangaande
s'Lands Verdediging, Jaarsverslag (1872, &c.) and Werken. NORWAY :
Christiania, Militaere Samfund, Nordsk Milit. Tidsskrift (1848, &c.).
DENMARK: Copenhagen, Krigsvidenskabelige Selskab, Milit. Tids-
skrift (1872, &c.).
XVI. AGRICULTURE AND TRADES
The Royal Agricultural Society of England began as the English
Agricultural Society in 1838 and was incorporated in 1840. It holds
annually one migratory meeting in some part of England or Wales
and meetings in London, where are its headquarters; it publishes a
Journal (1840, &c.). Among provincial agricultural societies and
associations may be mentioned — Aberdeen, Roy. Northern Agr. Soc.
(1843). Arbroath, Angus Agr. Assoc. Banbury (1834). Basing-
stoke, Roy. Counties Agr. Soc. (1859). Bath, Bath and West of Engl.
Soc. and Southern Counties Assoc. (founded in 1777, enlarged in 1852,
and reorganized in 1866), Letters and Papers (1780-1816) and Journal
(1852, &c.). Belfast, Chemico-Agr. Soc. of Ulster (1845), Proc.;
N.E. Agr. Assoc. of Ireland. Birkenhead, Wirral and Birkenhead Agr.
Soc. (1842). Brecknock (1855). Carluke (1833). Chelmsford, Essex
Agr. Soc. (1858). Chertsey (1833). Doncaster (1872). Dublin, Roy.
Agr. Soc. of Ireland (1841). Edinburgh, Highland and Agr. Soc. of
Scotland (1784, incorporated in 1787), Trans. (1799. &c.). Halifax
(1839, enlarged in 1858). Ipswich, Suffolk Agr. Assoc. (1831).
Otley, Wharfedale Agr. Soc. Paisley, Renfrewshire Agr. Soc. (1802).
'Warwick. Worcester (1838). AFRICA: Cape Town, Agr. Soc.
AUSTRALIA: Sydney, Agr. Soc. of N. S. Wales. BRITISH GUIANA:
Georgetown, Roy. Agr. and Commercial Soc. CANADA: Montreal,
Soc. d'Agr. INDIA: Calcutta, Agr. and Hortic. Soc., Journ. (1842,
&c.).
UNITED STATES: There were agricultural societies formed at
Philadelphia and in South Carolina in 1785. The New York Soc. for
the Promotion of Agriculture, Arts and Manufactures (1791), the
Massachusetts Soc. for Prom. Agriculture (1792), and Columbian Agr.
Soc. (1809), issued publications. Albany, State Agr. Soc. (1832), The
Cultivator and Journal. Atlanta, State Agr. Soc. Boston, Inst. of
Technology. Hoboken, Stevens Inst. of Technol. Madison, State Agr.
Soc., Trans. (1852, &c.). Sacramento, Soc. of Agr. and Ilortic. San
Francisco, Agr. and Hort. Soc. Troy, Rensselaer Polytechnic InsL
(1824). Worcester Polytechnic Institute (1865), Journ. (1897, &c.).
FRANCE: Algiers, Soc. d'Agr. (1840), Bull. Agen, Soc. d'Agr.
(1776), Rec. (1800, &c.). Amiens, Soc. Industrielle (1861), Butt,
Angers, Soc. d'Agr. (1799), formerly Acad. d'Angers, Proc.-verb.
(1846-1854), Mem. (1831, &c.), Documents (1896, &c.). Bordeaux,
Soc. d'Agr. Boulogne, Soc. d'Agr. Caen, Assoc. Normande pour
I' Agr., I' Industrie, &c. (1831), Annuaire (1835, &c.); Soc. d'Agr. et
de Commerce (1762), Mem. (1853-1858) and Bull. (1827, &c.).
Chalons-sur-Marne, Soc. d'Agr., &c. (1750), Comptes rendus (1807-
1855), Mem. (1855, &c.). Uouai, Soc. d'Agr., &c. (1799), Souv.
(1861-1885), Mem. (1826, &c.). Elbeuf, Soc. Industr. (1858), Bull.
Grenoble, Soc. d'Agr. et d'Hortic. (1835), Sud-Est (1855, &c.). Le
Mans, Soc. du Materiel Agr. (1857), Bull. Lyons, Soc. des Sc. Industr.
(1862), Annales. Montpellier, Soc. d'Agr. (1799), Bull. (1808, &c ).
Nancy, Soc. Centr. d'Agr. Paris, Soc. Nat. d'Agr. de France (1761;
reconstructed in 1878 with a view of advising Government on agri-
cultural matters), Mem. and Bull. Perpignan, Soc. Agr. Scientifique
et Litt. (1833), Bull. (1834, &c.). Reims, Soc. Industr. (1833). Bull.
(1858, &c.). Rouen, Soc. Industr. (1872), Bull. ; Soc. Libre a' Emula-
tion, Commerce et Industrie (1790), Bull. (1797). Saint-Jean-
d'Angely, Soc. d'Agr. (1819), Bull. (1833, &c.). St Quentin, Soc.
Industr. (i&6&), Bull. Toulouse, Soc. d'A gr. Vesoul, Soc. d' Encourage-
ment d'Agr. (1883), Bull. GERMANY and AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: The
migratory Congress Deutscher Volkswirthe first met at Gotha in 1858.
Agram, Kroatisch-Slav. Landwirths. Ges., Blatter. Augsburg, Land-
wirths. Ver., Landw. Blatter. Berlin, Vereinigt. Berliner Kaufleute u.
Industr.; Bonn, Landwirthsch. Central-Ver. Bremen, Landwirths „
Ver. Breslau, Landwirths. Central- Ver. ; Schles. Central Gewerbe- Ver.
Budapest, Ungar. Ackerbau Ges. Mittheil.; Industrielle Ges. Cassel,
Landwirths. Central-Ver., Mittheil. Cracow, Ackerbau Ges , Annalen.
Danzig, Volkswirths. Ges. (1850). Darmstadt, Landwirths. Ver.,
Ztschr. Dresden, K. Okonomie Ges.; K. Sachs. Polytechnicum.
Fiirth, Gewerbe- Ver* Gratz, K. k. Steiermarkische Landwirths. Ges.
Greifswald, Baltischer Central-Ver. Halle, Landwirths. Central-Ver.
Hanover, Gewerbe-Ver. Innsbruck, K. k. Landwirths. Ges., Wochen-
schr.; Kdrnt. Industrie- u. Gewerbe-Ver. Jena, Landwirths. Inst.
Kassa, Magyar Kir. Gazdasagi Akad. or Academy for Agriculture.
Klausenburg, Magyar Kir. Gazdasagi Akad. (1869). Konigsberg,
Ostpreuss. Landwirths. Central-Ver. Leipzig, Landwirths. Kreis-Ver. ;,
Polytechn. Ges. Linz, K. k. Landwirths. Ges. Liibeck, Landwirths.
Ver., Mittheil. Miihlhausen, Soc. Industr., Bull. Munich, Land-
wirths. Kreis-Ver.; Polytechn. Ver. Nuremberg, Polytechn. Ver.
Prague, Bohmischer Gewerbe-Ver.; Industrie Ges., Mittheil. and
Annalen. Ratisbon, Landwirths. Kreis-Ver., Bauernfreund. Stutt-
gart, X. Wurttemb. Central- Stelle, Wochenblatt. Trieste, A ckerbau Ges.
Tubingen, Landwirths. Ver. Vienna, K. k. Reichs Landwirths. Ges.,
Ztschr. Wiesbaden, Gewerbe-Ver. SWITZERLAND: Bern, Okonom.
Ges. Lausanne, Soc. d'Agr. de la Suisse Romande. Zurich, Ver. f.
Landwirths. u. Gartenbau. ITALY: Bologna, Soc. Agraria, Annali.
Cagliari, Soc. Agr. ed Econom. Florence, Soc. Econom. ed Agr.,
Rendiconti. Milan, Soc. Agr. diLombardia; Soc. Gen. degli Agricolt.
Ital.; Soc. d'Incoragg. di Arti e Mestieri, Discorsi. Perugia, Soc.
Econom. ed Agr., AM. Turin, Accad. Reale di Agricolt.; Assoc. Agr.
Ital., Esercitazioni. Verona, Accad. d' Agricolt. BELGIUM : Soc. Centr.
d'Agricult. (1854), Bull. Ghent, Soc. Roy. d'Agr. et de Bot. Liege^
Soc. d'Agr., Journ. (1850, &c.). Verviers, Soc. Industr. et Commerc.
(1863), Bull. HOLLAND: Amsterdam, Aardrijskundig Genootschap;.
Vereeniging voor Volksvlijt. DENMARK: Copenhagen, K. Landhuus-
holdnings Selskab; Del Statist. Tabelvaerk. NORWAY: Christiania,
Polytekniske Forening. SWEDEN: K. Landtbruks Akademien.
SPAIN and PORTUGAL: Barcelona, Soc. Econom., Actas. Lisbon,
Inst. Real de Agric.; Soc. Promotora de Industr. Madrid, Soc.
Econom. Matritense, Anales. Oporto, Acad. Polytechn. RUSSIA:
Dorpat, K. Livlandische Okonom. Ges., Jahrbuch. Kazan, Imp.
Econom. Soc. Moscow, Imp. Soc. of Agriculturists. Odessa, Imp.
Agronom. Soc. of S. Russia. Riga, Technical Soc. St Petersburg,
Imp. Econom. Soc., Trans.; Technical Soc. RUMANIA: Bucharest,
Soc. Politechnicd (1881), Buletinul. SOUTH AMERICA: Rio de
Janeiro, Soc. de Agr.
XVII. LITERATURE, HISTORY AND ARCHAEOLOGY
The Congres International des Orientalistes first met at Paris in 1873.
The Congres Bibliographique International held its first meeting in
1878, and the Congres des Americanistes its first meeting_ in 1875. The
first Internal. Conference of Librarians took place in London in
1877. Congresses of Archivists, Librarians and Bibliographers were
held at Brussels in 1910. The Royal Society of Literature (1823, in-
corporated in 1825) with Transactions (410, 1829-1839; 8vo, 1843,
&c.), and the Royal Asiatic Society (1823), with Journal (1834,
&c.), have their headquarters in London, as well as the follow-
ing literary societies, all of which issue publications: Aris-
totelian (1879), Ballad (1868), Chaucer (1868), Dante (1881),
Early English Text (1864), East India Association (1866), Hellenic
Studies (1879), Incorp. Soc. of Authors (1884), Institute of Journalists,
Irish Lit., Japan (1892), Library Association (1877), 'Library Assistants
(1895), Malone (1906), Oriental Translation Fund (1828), Pali Text
(1882), Philological (1842), Roxburghe Club (1812), Shorthand, Viking
Club (1892), Wyclif (1882). The Lancashire and Cheshire Historic
Society (1848), at Liverpool, the Manchester Literary Club, with
3*8
SOCIETIES, LEARNED
Transactions and Papers (1874, &c.), and the Manx Society (1858), at
Douglas, may also be mentioned. In Glasgow are the Ballad Club
(1876), and the Scottish Soc. of Lit. and Art (1886), and in Dublin
the Nat. Lit. Soc. of Ireland (1892).
The oldest and most important society in England dealing with
history and archaeology is the Society of A ntiquaries of London, which
enthusiasts trace to an association founded by Archbishop Parker in
1572. The meetings were not publicly recommenced until 1707 ; the
present body was incorporated in 1751 ; it publishes Vetera Monu-
menta (fol., 1747, &c.), Archaeologia (4to, 1770, &c.), and Proceedings
(8vo, 1849, &c.). The Royal Archaeological Institute (1843), issuing
the Archaeological Journal (1845; &c.) ; the British Archaeological
Association (1843), with Journal (1846. &c.) ; the Royal Numismatic
Society (1836), issuing the Numismatic Chronicle (1838, &c.) ; and the
Royal Historical Society (1868), publishing Transactions, and the works
of the Camden Society (1838), belong to London, as well as the follow-
ing societies, all of which issue publications: Bibliographical (1892),
British School at Athens, British School at Rome, British Record (1888,
incorp. 1893, incl. Index Soc. 1878). Canterbury and York Catholic
Record (1904), Egypt Expl. Fund (1883), Genealog. and Biogr.,
Cymmrodorion (1751-1773, revived in 1820), Dilettanti (1734), Folk
Lore (1879), Harleian (1869), Huguenot (1885), London and Middle-
sex Archaeol. (1855), London Topogr. Soc., Middlesex County Records
(1884), Palaeo graphical, Palestine Expl. Fund, Parish Registers, Pipe
Roll (1883), Soc. Bibl. Archaeol. (1870), Soc. for Prot. Anc. Buildings
(1877). Outside London are the Roy. Soc. of Antiquaries of Ireland
founded in 1849 as the Kilkenny Arch. Soc., changed to Roy. Hist, and
Arch. Assn. in 1869 and to present title in 1890; the Society of
Antiquaries of Scotland (1780), at Edinburgh, and the Irish Archaeo-
logical and Celtic Society, at Dublin. Among others are — Aberdeen,
New Spalding Club (1886); Bedfordshire Archaeological and Archi-
tect. Soc. (1844); Bristol, Bristol and Gloucester Arch. Soc. (1876);
Cambrian Arch. Assoc. (1846); Cambridge Antiq. Soc. (1840);
Carlisle, Cumb. and Westm. Antiq. and Arch. Soc. (1866); Devizes,
Wiltshire Arch, and Nat. H. Soc. (1853) ; Durham, Surtees Soc. (1834) ;
Colchester, Essex Arch. Soc. (1852); Edinburgh, Bibliogr. Soc. (1890),
Scottish Hist. (1886); Exeter, Diocesan Arch. Soc. (1841); Glasgow
Arch. Soc. (1856) ; Kent Arch. Soc. (1857) ; Lane, and Cheshire Antiq.
Soc. (1883). Leeds Thoresby Soc. (1889) ; Manchester, Chetham Soc.
(1843); Newcastle-on-Tyne Soc. of Antiq. (1813); Norwich, Norfolk
and Norwich Arch. Soc. (1846); Oxford, Architect, and Hist. Soc.
(1839), and Hist. Soc. (1884) ; Purbeck Soc. ; Reading, Berkshire Arch,
and Architectural Soc. (1871); Surrey Arch. Soc.; Sussex Arch. Soc.
(1846); Welshpool, Powys Land Club (1867); and Yorkshire Arch.
Soc. (1863).
CANADA: Halifax, Nova Scotia Hist. Soc. (1878), Coll. Montreal,
Soc. Hist., Mem. (1859, &c.) ; Numism. and Antiq. Soc. (1872), Journ.
(1872, &c.). Quebec, Lit. and Hist. Soc. (1824), Trans. (1837, &c.).
Toronto, Ontario Hist. Soc. (1888, 1898), Rep.; Lit. and Hist. Soc.
CHINA: Hong-Kong, Roy. Asiatic Soc. Shanghai, Roy. Asiatic
Soc., Journ. (1858, &c.). INDIA: Bombay, Roy. Asiatic Soc.
(Branch) (1804), Journal (1844, &c.). Calcutta, Asiatic Society of
Bengal, Journ. (1832, &c.) and Proc. (1865, &c.) ; Indian Research
Soc. (1907), Trans. Colombo, Roy. Asiatic Soc., Journ. (1844, &c.).
Madras, Lit. Soc. (1818), Journal (1827, &c.). Singapore, Roy.
Asiatic Soc.
UNITED STATES: The central antiquarian body in the United
States is established at Washington — the Archaeological Institute of
Amer. (1879), which publishes Amer. Journ. Arch. (1897, &c.), and
has affiliated with it 28 societies, including the Boston Society (1879),
Cincinnati Soc. (1905), Iowa Soc. (1902), Wisconsin Soc. (1889), New
York Soc. (1884), San Francisco (1906), North West Soc. (Seattle)
(1906). Albany, Institute and Hist, and Art Soc., Trans. (1792-
1819, 1830-1893), Proc. (1865-1882). Baltimore, Maryland Hist.
Soc. (1844). Boston, Mass. Hist. Soc. (1791), Collections (1792, &c.)
and Proc. (1859, &c.) ; New Engl. Hist.-Gen. Soc. (1845), Genealog.
Register (1847) ; Amer. Oriental Soc. (1843), Journ. (1849, &c.) ; Amer.
Library Assoc. (1876), Liby. Journal; Soc. Bibl. Lit. and Exegesis
(1880), Journal (1882, &c.) ; Bostonian Soc. (1881), Proc. (1882, &c.).
Brookline Hist. Soc. (1891). Buffalo, Hist. Soc. (1862). Cambridge,
Hist. Soc. (1905), Proc. (1906, &c.) ; Dante Soc. (1881). Chicago, Hist.
Soc. (1856). Cincinnati, Hist, and Phil. Soc. of Ohio (1831), Pubins.
(1906). Concord, Hist. Soc., Coll. (1824, &c.). Frankfort, Kentucky
State Hist. Soc. (1836), Reg. Hartford, Amer. Philolog. Soc. (1869);
Hist. Soc. (1825), Coll. (i860, &c.). Lincoln, Nebraska State Hist. Soc.
(1867), Trans. (1885-1893), Proc. (1894, &c.). Madison, Hist. Soc.,
Coll. (1849, &c.). Minneapolis, Hist. Soc., Coll. (1869, &c.). Mont-
pelier, Hist. Soc. of Vermont, Coll. (1869, &c.). New Haven,
Amer. Orient. Soc. (1842), Journal (1849, &c.). New Orleans,
Louisiana Hist. Soc. (1867), Pubins. (1895, &c.). New York, Hist.
Soc. (1804), Pubins. (1868, &c.); Geneal. and Biogr. Soc. (1869),
Record (1870); Bibliogr. Soc. (1904), Proc. (1906, &c.), Bull. (1907,
&c.); Amer. Numis. Soc., Proc. (1882). Philadelphia, Hist. Soc.
(1824), Mem. (1820, &c.); Numism. and Arch. Soc. (1858), Proc.
(1867, &c.); Shakspere Soc. (1852). Portland, Maine Hist. Soc.,
Coll. (1831, &c.). Providence, Hist. Soc. (1822), Coll. (1827, &c.).
Richmond, Virg. Hist, and Phil. (1831), Publ. (1874, &c.). St Louis,
Missouri Hist. Soc. (1866), St Paul, Minnesota Hist. Soc. (1849),
Coll. Savannah, Georgia Hist. Soc. (1839), Proc. Topeka, Hist. Soc.
(1875), Trans. (1881, &c.). Washington, Arch. Soc. (1902) ; Columbia
Hist. Soc. (1894), Rec.; Amer. Hist. Assn. (1884), Amer. Hist. Rev
(1895, &c.). Worcester, Amer. Antiq. Soc. (1812), Proc. and Arch.
Amer. (1820, &c.).
FRANCE: The Congres Archeologique de la France first met in
1834. Algiers, Soc. Hist. (1856), Revue (1856, &c.). Amiens, Soc.
des Antiq. (1836), Mem. (1838, &c.) and Bull. Angouleme, Soc.
Arch, et Hist. (1844), Bull. Bordeaux, Soc. Archeol. (1873) ; Soc. des
Arch. Hist. (1858), Archives Hist. (1858, &c.). Bourges, Soc. Hist, et
Litt. (1849), Bull, et Mem. (.1852, &c.). Caen, Soc. des Antiq. de
Normandie (1823), Mem. (1824, &c.) and Bull. (1860, &c.) ; Soc.
Fran. d'Arch. (1834), Comptes rend. (1834, &c.) and Bull. Mens.
(1835, &c.). Chalon-sur-Saone, Soc. d'Hist. et d'Arch. (1844), Mem.
(1844, &c.). Chambery, Soc. Savoisienne d'Hist. et d'Arch. (1855),
Mem. (1856, &c.). Constantine, Soc. Arch. (1852), Recueil. Dijon,
Comm. des Antiquiles (1831), Mem. (1882, &c.). Lille, Comm. hist,
du Nord (1839), Bull. (1843, &c.). Limoges, Soc. Hist, et Arch.
(1845), Bull.; Soc. des Archives hist. (1886), Archives (1887, &c.).
Lyons, Soc. Hist., Litt. et Arch. (1807), Mem. (1860, &c.). Mont-
pellier, Soc. Arch. (1833), Mem. (1835, &c.). Nancy, Soc. d'Arch. de
Lorraine (1845), Mem. (1850, &c.) and Journ. (1852, &c.). Nantes,
Soc. Arch. (1845), Bull. (1859, &c.). Orleans, Soc. Arch, et Hist.
(1848), Mem. (1851, &c.) and Butt. Paris, Soc. Nat. des Antiq. de Fr.
(1813) (based on the Academic Celtique, 1804), Mem. (1805, &c.) and
Butt. (1817, &c.); Soc. de I' Hist, de France (1833), Annuaire (1837)
and nearly 400 vols. besides; Soc. de VEcole Nat. des Charles (1839),
Documents (1873, &c.) ; Soc. Asiatique (1822), Journal Asiat. (1822,
&c.), &c. ; Soc. d'Arch. et de Numism. (1865) ; Soc. de I'Hist. du Prot.
Fran. (1866) ; Soc. de Linguistique; Soc. Bibliogr. (1868), Polybiblion. ;
Soc. Philol. (1867), Actes (1869, &c.) ; Soc. des Etudes Hist. (1833),
Revue (1834, &c.) ; Soc. d'Hist. Moderne (1901), Bull.; Soc. d'Hist.
Contemp. (1890); Soc. de I'Hist. de la Revolution Fran. (1888); Soc.
d'Hist. Diplomatique (1886); Soc. des Bibliophiles Fran. (1820);
Soc. des Anciens Textes Fran. (1875), Bull. Poitiers, Soc. des
Antiq. (1834), Mem. Rouen, Soc. de I'Hist. de Norm. (1869), Bull.
(1870, &c.) and 75 vols. besides; Comm. des Antiquites (1818), Bull.
(1867, &c.). Saint-Omer, Soc. des Antiq. (1831), Mem. (1833, &c.).
Toulouse, Soc. Arch. (1831), Mem. (1831-1868), Bull. (1869, &c.);
Acad. des Jeux floraux (1323, reorganized 1773), Rec. (1696, &c.).
Tours, Soc. Arch. (1840), Mem. (1842, &c.). GERMANY and AUSTRIA-
HUNGARY: Gesam. Ver. d. D. Gesch. u. Alt. Vereine (1852). Agrair,
Ges. f. Siid-Slav. Alterth. Aix-la-Chapelle, Geschichtsver. (1879),
Ztschr. (1879, &c.). Altenburg, Gesch. u. Alterthums Ges. (1838),
Mittheil. (1841, &c.). Augsburg, Hist. Ver. (1820, reorganized in
1834), Jahresber. (1835, &c.). Baden, Alterthums-Ver . (1844),
Schriften. Bamberg, Hist. Ver. (1830), Ber. (1834, &c.). Berlin,
Ver. f. Gesch. d. Mark Brandenb. (1836), Forschungen (1841, &c.) ;
Ver.f. d. Gesch. Berlins (1865), Schriften; Hist. Ges. (1871), Mittheil.
(1873, &c.); Archaolog. Ges. (1842), Sitzungsber., Archaol. Zeitung;
Numism. Ges. (1843), Jahresber. (1845, &c.), Herald (1869) ; Phil. Ges.
(1843), DerGedanke (i86i,&c.) ; Gtt.f. D. PhUologie (1877), Jahresler.
(1879, &c.); D. Bibliogr. Ges. (1902), Ztschr. (1903, &c.); Ver.
D. Bibliothekare (1900), Jahrbuch (1902); D. Orient-Ges. (1898),
Mitteil. Bonn, Ver.f. Alterth. (1841), Jahresber. ; Soc. Philologa (1854).
Brandenburg, Hist. Ver. (1868), Jahresber. (1870, &c.). Braunsberg,
Hist. Ver. (1856). Breslau, Ver.f. Gesch. u. Alt. Schl. (1846), Ztschr.
(1856, &c.), Scriptores rerum Silesicarum (1847, &c.) ; Breslauer
Dichterschule (1860). Budapest, Hungarian Hist. Soc. (1867),
Szdzadok. Cassel, Ver. f. Hess. Gesch. (1834), Ztschr. (1837, &C.J.
Cologne, Hist. Ver. (1854), Annalen (1855, &c.); Ges. fur rheinische
Geschichtskunde (1881). Cracow, Hist. Soc. Danzig, Westpreuss.
Geschichtsver. (1879), Ztschr., Mitteil., Akten. Darmstadt, Hist. Ver.
(1834), Archiv (1835, &c.). Dresden, K. Sachs. Alt. Ver. (1825),
Jahresber. (1835, &c.) and Mittheil. (1835, &c.). Frankfort, Ges. f.
Deutschlands alt. Geschichtskunde (1819; since 1875 under guidance
of Central-Dir. d. Man. Germ.), Man. Germ. (1826, &c.) ; Ges. f.
Gesch. u. Kunst (1837), Mittheil. (1858, &c.); Freies D. Hochstift in
Goethe's Vaterhaus (1859); Ver. fur Gesch. u. Alt. (1857), Archiv.
Halle, Thur.-Sachs. Ver. (1819), Mittheil. (1822, &c.) ; D. Morgenl.
Ges. (1844), Ztschr. (1847, &c.) and Abhandl. (1859, &c.). Hanover,
Hist. Ver. (1835), Ztschr. Kiel, Ges. f. Gesch. Schl.-Holst. (1833, re-
organized in 1873), Archiv (1833, &c.) and Ztschr. (1870, &c.).
Konigsberg, Altertumsges. Prussia (1844), Sitzungsber. Leipzig,
D. Ges. z. Erforschung vaterl. Spr. u. Alterth. (1697, reorganized in
1824), Jahresber. (1825, &c.) and Mittheil. (1845, &c.) ; Furstlich
Jablonowski' s Ges. (1768), Acta (1772, &c.); Borsenver. d. D. Buch-
hdndler (1825), Borsenblatt (1834, &c.) ; Hist. Theolog. Ges. (1814).
Liibeck, Hansischer Ges. Ver. (1870). Munich, Hist. Ver. (1837), '
Archiv (l&y),&c.);Alterthums-Ver. (1864). Nuremberg, Pegnesischer
Blumenorden (1644), had united with it in 1874 tne Lit. Ver. (1839),
Prague, Ver.f. Gesch. Ratisbon, Hist. Ver. (1830), Verhandl. (1832,
&c.). Rostock, Ver. fur. Alt. (1883), Beitrdge (1890, &c.). Schwerin,
Ver.f. Meckl. Gesch. u. Alterthumsk. (1835), Jahrbuch (1835, &c.) and
other publications. Strassburg, Soc. pour la conservation des Monu-
ments Historiques d' Alsace (1855), Bull. (1855, also since 1889 with
German title Mitteilungen). Stuttgart, Lit. Ver. (1839), Bibliothek
(1843, &c.); Wurttemb. Alterth. Ver. (1843). Jahreshefte (1844) and
many records, handbooks, &c. Tubingen, Lit. Ver. (1839), Bibliothek
(1842, &c.). Vienna, K. k. Orient. Akad.; K. k. Heraldische Ges.
"Adler" (1870), Jahrbiicher (1874, &c.) ; Ver. fur Osterr. Volks-
kunde (1894), Ztschr. Weimar, D. Shakespeare Ges. (1864, Jahrbuch
SOCIETIES, LEARNED
(1865, &c.); Goethe Ges. (1885), Schriften (1885, &c.); Ges. der
BMiophilen (1899). Wiesbaden, Ver. f. Nass. Alterth. (1821),
Annalen (1830, &c.). Wiirzburg, Hist. Ver. (1831), Archiv (1833).
SWITZERLAND : Basle, Hist. u. Antiq. Ges. (1836). Berne, Allgemeine
Geschichtforschende Ges. (1840). Freiberg, Soc. d'Hist. Geneva, Soc.
d'Hist. et d'Arch. (1838). Lausanne, Soc. d'Hist.; Soc. Vaudoise
d'Hist. et d'Arch. (1902), Revue. St Gall, Hist. Ver. (1859), Mitteil.
(1862, &c.). Zurich, Soc. d'Hist. ; Antiq. Ges., Denkmdler. ITALY:
Bologna, Reg. Deputazione di Storia Patria. Catania, Soc. di Storia
Patria (1903). Ferrara, Deput. Ferrarese di Storia Patria (1884).
Florence, Societa Colombaria (1823); Soc. Dantesca Italiana (1888);
R. Deputazione Tosc. di Storia Patria (1862). Genoa, Soc. di Storia
Patria (1857). Milan, Soc. Numis. Ital.; Soc. Storica Lombarda.
Naples, Soc. Nap. di Storia Patria (1875). Palermo, Soc. Sic. di Storia
Patria (1873), Doc. Parma, R. Deputazione di Storia Patria. Rome,
Accad. Rom. di Arch.; Soc. Rom. di Storia Patria (1877), Archivio
(1877, &c.); 1st. di Corr. Arch.; Brit, and Amer. Arch. Soc.; Soc.
Filol. Rom. (1901); Istituto Star. Ital. (1883), Fonti (1887, &c.) ;
K. Deutsch. Archdolog. Inst., Arch. Zing. (1843-1885) and Jahrb.
Turin, Real Deputaz. di Star. Pair. (1833). Venice, R. Dep. Yen. di
Storia Patria. Verona, Soc. Lett. (1808). BELGIUM: Antwerp,
Acad. d'Archeol. (1842), Bull. (1865, &c.). Bruges, Soc. pour I'Hist.
et les Antiq. de la Flandre (1839), Publ. Brussels, Soc. de I'Hist. de
Belgique (1858), Publ.; Soc. Roy. de Numism. (1841), Revue; Soc.
des Bibliophiles (1865); Soc. d'Archeol. (1887), Annuaire, Annales;
Inst. Int. de Bibliogr. (1895), Repertoire. Ghent, Soc. Roy. des Beaux-
Arts et de la Litt. (1808), Annales (1844, &c.); Willems Fond
(1851) ; Maatschappij de Vlaamsche Bibliophilen (1839) ; Soc. d'Hist.
et d'Archeol. (founded 1893 as Cercle Hist, et Archeol.), Bull. Liege,
Inst. Archeol. (1850), Bull. (1852, &c.). Louvain, Soc. Litt. (1839),
Mem. and Publ. Mons, Cercle Archeol. (1856), Annales (1857, &c.).
Namur, Soc. Archeol. et Musee de Namur (1845), Annales. Tournai,
Soc. Hist, et Litt. (1846), Bull. (1849, &c.). Verviers, Soc. Arch.
Ypres, Soc. Hist. (1861). HOLLAND: Leiden, Acad. Lugduno-
Batava; Maatschappij der Nederlandsche Letterkunde (1766)
Tijdschrift. Luxembourg, Inst. Archeol. (1846, reorganized in 1862),
Annales (1849, &c.). Utrecht, Hist. Genootschap (1845). DEN-
MARK: Copenhagen, Island. Litt. Selskab; K. Danske Selskab
(1745), Magazin; K. Nordisk Oldskrift Selskab, Aarboger (1866, &c.),
Fortidsminder (1890, &c.). Reykjavik (Iceland), Fornleifarfelag;
Hid islenzka Bokmentafelag (1816), Skirnir. NORWAY: Christiania,
Norske Hist. Forening (1869) ; Norske Oldskrift Selskab; Foreningen
til Norske Forlidsminde maerkers Bevaring (1844). SWEDEN: Stock-
holm, K. Witterhets Hist, och Antiq. Akad. ; Svcnska Akad. ; Sv. Forn-
skriftsdllskapet (1843) Proc.; K. Samfundet for utgifvande af hand-
skrifter rorande Skandinaviens hist. (1815-1817), Handl. (1816, &c.).
SPAIN: Barcelona, R. Acad. de Buenas Letras. Madrid, R. Acad. de
Cienc. Mor. y Pol.; R. Acad. Esp. Arq.; R. Acad. de la Hist. (1738).
RUSSIA: Helsingfors, Finska Litt. Sdllskapet (1831), Ztschr. (1841);
Finnish Archaeol. Soc. (1870), Tidskrift (1874, &c.) ; Hist. Soc.
(1875), Arkisto (1876, &c.). Kazan, Soc. of Arch. Hist, and Ethnogr.
(1877), Izvestija (1878). Mitau, Courland Soc. of Lit. and Art.
Moscow, Imp. Russ. Soc. of Hist, and Antiq.; Archaeolog. Soc.
(1864). Narva, Archaeolog. Soc. Odessa, Hist, and Antiq. Soc.
(1839), Zapiski (1844, &c.). Riga, Lett. Lit. Ges.; Hist, and
Antiq. Soc. (1834), Mitteil. (1873, &c.). St Petersburg, Russ. Hist.
Soc. (1866), Sbornik (1867, &c.) ; Imp. Soc. for Study of Ancient
Lit. (1877); Imp. Russ. Archeol. Soc. (1846); Russ. Bibliogr. Soc.
(1899); Soc. for Orient. Studies, with numerous branches; Neo-
Philol. Soc. (1885). GREECE: Athens, Soc. Archeol.; Amer. School
Class. Studies (1882); Ecole Franc,. d'Alhenes (1846); British School
at Athens (1886); 'Apxa'.oXo-yuo) 'Ertuptia (Arch. Soc.) (1837),
'Efaufpls. TURKEY: Constantinople, Soc. for Adv. of Turkish
Lit.; Greek Lit. Soc.; Hellenic Philolog. Soc. BULGARIA: Sofia, Bulg.
Lit. Soc. (1869), now the Bulgarian Acad. (1910), Periqd. (1870, &c.).
SOUTH AMERICA: Rio dc Janeiro, Inst. hist, e geogr. (1838). JAPAN:
Yokohama, Asiatic Soc. of Japan, Trans. (1874, &c.).
XVIII. GEOGRAPHY
The Congres International pour les Progres des Sciences Geogra-
phiques first met in 1871. The Royal Geographical Society of London,
founded in 1830, had joined to it in the following year the African
Association (1788), the successor of the Saturday Club; the Palestine
Association (1805) became merged with it in 1834. It publishes
Journal (1832, &c.) and Proceedings (1857, &c.). The Hakluyt
Society (1846) has printed more than 136 vols. of rare voyages and
travels. The Alpine Club (1858), whose publications are Peaks,
Passes and Glaciers (1859-1862) and Journal (1863, &c.), meets in
London. The Royal Scottish Geographical Society (1884) has its
centre at Edinburgh, and issues the Scottish Geographical Magazine.
Liverpool, Tyneside and Manchester have also Geographical Societies.
AUSTRALIA: Adelaide, R. Geogr. Soc. of Australasia (1885), Proc.
Brisbane, R. Geogr. Soc. of Australasia (1885). Melbourne, Roy.
Geogr. Soc. of Australasia (1883). Sydney, Geogr. Inst. CANADA:
Quebec, Geogr. Soc. INDIA: .Bombay, Geogr. Soc., Trans. (1836,
&c.). EGYPT: Cairo, Soc. Khediviale de Geogr. (1875), Bull.
(1876, &c.).
UNITED STATES: Baltimore, Geogr. Soc. (1902). Chicago, Geogr.
Soc. (1894). Hamilton, Assoc. of Amer. Geogr. (1904). New York,
Amer. Geogr. Soc. (1852), Bull. (1852-1857), Journ., later Bull. (1859,
&c.), and Proc. (1862-1865). Philadelphia, Geogr. Soc. (1891). San
Francisco, Geogr. Soc. (1891), Bull. Washington, Nat. Geogr. Soc.
(1852), Magazine (1888). FRANCE: Algiers, Soc. Geogr. (1896), Bull.
Bordeaux, Soc. de Geogr. Commercials (1874), Bull. Dijon, Soc. Bourg.
de Geogr. et d'Hist. (1881), Mem. (1884, &c.). Lyons, Soc. de Geogr.
(1873), Bull Marseilles, Soc.deGeogr. (1876), Bull. Montpellier, Soc.
Languedocienne de Geogr. (1878), Bull. Nancy, Soc. de Geogr. (1878).
Bull. Paris, Soc.deGeogr. (1821 ; l82f),Bull, Toulouse, Soc.deGeogr.
(1882), Bull. GERMANY and AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: D. Alpen-Ver.
(1869), Ztschr. u. Jahrb. (1869, &c.). Berlin, Ges.f. Erdkunde (1828),
Ztschr. (1853, &c.), and Verhandl. (1873, &c.) ; Ges. zur Erforschung
Aquat. Afrikas (1873), Corr.-Blatt; Afrik. Ges. (1878), Mittheil.;
D. Geographentag (1881), Verhandl. Bremen, Geograph. Ges. (1876),
Geogr. Blatter. Budapest, Hung.-Geogr. Soc. (1872). Carlsruhe,
Badische Geogr. Ges. (1880), Verhandl. Cassel, Ver. f. Erdk. (1882).
Darmstadt, Ver.}. Erdk. (1845), Notizblatt (1854, &£•)'• Dresden, Ver.
f. Erdk. (1863), Jahresber. (1865-1901), Mitteil. (1905, &c.). Frank-
fort, Ver. f. Geogr. u. Statist. (1836), Jahresber. Giessen, Ges. fur
Erd. u. Volkerkunde (1896). Halle, Ver.f. Erdk. (1873). Hamburg,
Geogr. Ges. (1873), Jahresber. Hanover, Geogr. Ges. (1878), Jahresber.
Jena, Geogr. Ges. (1880), Mittheil. Leipzig, Ver. f. Erdk. (1861),
Jahresber. Liibeck, Geogr. Ges. (1882). Munich, Geogr. Ges. (1869),
Jahresber. Vienna, K. k. Geogr. Ges., Milt. (1857, &c.) ; Ver. der Geogr.
Weimar, Geogr. Inst. SWITZERLAND : Berne, Inst. Geogr. ; Geogr. Ges.
(1873), Jahresber. (1879, &c.) ; Schweiz. Alpen-Club. Geneva, Soc. de
Geogr., Mem. (1860, &c.). Zurich, Karten- Ver. ITALY: Rome, Soc.
Geogr. Ital., Bull. (1868, &c.). Turin, Circolo Geogr. Ital. (1868).
BELGIUM: Antwerp, Soc. Beige de Geogr. (1870), Bull. ; Soc. Roy. de
Geogr. (1876), Bull. Brussels, Soc. Beige de Geogr. (1876). HOL-
LAND: Amsterdam, K. Nederl. Aardrijkskundig Genoot. (1873),
Tijdschrift (1874, &c-)'< Landkundige Genootschap. DENMARK:
Copenhagen, Geogr. Selskab. NORWAY: Christiania, Detnorske geogr.
Selskab (1889). SPAIN and PORTUGAL: Lisbon, Soc. de Geogr., Bol.
(1875, &c.). Madrid, Soc. Geogr., Bol. (1876, &c.). RUSSIA: Hel-
singfors, Geogr. Soc. (1888), Tidskrift; Sdllskapet for Finland* geografi
(1888). Irkutsk, Geogr. Soc., Bull. (1871, &c.). St Petersburg, Imp.
Russ. Geogr. Soc., Mem. (1845, &c.), and Bull. (1865, &c.). Tiflis,
Geogr. Soc., Mem. (1852, &c.). RUMANIA: Bucharest, Societatea
Geografica Romdna (1875), Bull. EGYPT: Cairo, Soc. Khediviale de
Geogr., Bull. (1876, &c.). JAPAN: Tokyo, Geogr. Soc. CENTRAL and
SOUTH AMERICA: Buenos Aires, Inst. Geogr. Argent. La Paz, Soc.
Geogr. (1889), Bol. Lima, Soc. Geogr. (1888), Bol. Mexico, Soc. de
Geogr. y Estad., Bol. (1833, &c.). Rio de Janeiro, Soc. de Geogr.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.— The Catal. of Printed Books in the British
Museum (1841), folio, s.v. "Academies," contains a list of all the
publications of societies at that time in the museum. This has been
rearranged and greatly enlarged as Academies (1885-1886), 5 parts
folio, with Suppl. (1900—1903). Smithsonian Instn. International
Exchange List (1908); B. Quaritch, List of Learned Societies (Odd
Vols.) (1886). S. H. Scudder, Cat. of Scientific Serials (1633-1876);
Camb. (U.S.) (1879), 8vo. For general indexes see J. D. Reuss, Reper-
torium (1801-1821), 16 vols., Roy. Soc. Cat of Sc. Papers (1867-1902) ;
Societatum Lilterae, Verzeichniss (1887-1900, 14 vols.). For list of
indexes to transactions, &c., see A. Stein, Manuel de Bibliographie
ge.nerale (1897), p. 642, &c. Minerva (Strassb. Triibner), from 1891
on, is most useful for all the chief existing societies in the
world. British societies are now well represented in the Year Book
of the Scientific and Learned Societies of Great Brit, and Ireland (1884,
&c.). See also Hume's Learned Societies and Printing Clubs of the
U.K. (1853, 8vo) ; E. Mailly, Inst. Sc. de la Grande-Bret. (1861-1867,
6 pts.); H. G. Bohn, App. to Bibliographer's Manual (1864), 8vo;
Engl. Catal. of Books (1864-1909); C. S. Terry, Cat. of Publications
of Scottish Historical Societies and Clubs, 1909; " Sc. Societies and
Field Clubs," in Nature, v., viii. For American Societies see R. R.
Bowker, Publns. of Societies (New York, 1899); Handbk. of Learned
Societies, Carnegie Inst. of Washington (1908) ; A. P. C. Griffin,
Bibl. of Amer. Historical Societies (1905); A. Growoll, Am. Book
Clubs (New York, 1897). For France, see U. Robert, Bibl. des. Soc.
sav. de la France, pt. i. (1878) ; F. Bouillier, L'Institut et les acad.
de province (1879, 8vo) ; Lasteyrie, Lefevre-Pontalis et A. Vidier,
Bibliogr. des travaux hist, et arch. publ. par les soc. sav. de la France
(1888-1904, 4 vols. 4to). J. Deniker, Bibliogr. des travaux scienti-
fiques publ. par les soc. savantes de la France (1895, &c.) ; H.
Delauny, Les Soc. savantes de la France (1902); E. Lefevre-
Pontalis, Bibl. des soc. savantes de la France (1887); Annuaire
des Soc. savantes de la France et de I' Stranger (1846); A.
d'Hericourt, Annuaire (1863-1866); continued in Revue de soc.
savantes. For Germany and Austria-Hungary, see H. A. Stohr,
Allg. Deutsches Vereinshandbuch (1873, &c., 8vo) ; J. Miiller, Die
wiss. Vereine u. Ges. Deutschlands im iy'm Jahrh. (1883-1888);
I. Winckler, Die period. Presse Osterreichs (1875, 8vo) ; and P. A. F.
Walther for German historical societies (1845). See also " Les
Congres scientifiques," by Comte de Marsy, in Compte rendu du
Congres Bibliogr. (1879). For Belgium, see Introd. a la Bibl. de la
Belgique (1875). For Italy, see Statistica della stampa periodica,
1880-1895; Elenco bibl. delle accademie ec. corrisp. con. la R. Accad.
dei Lincei Roma, 1908. For Russia, consult C. Woldemar, Gesch. d.
russ. Gelehrten- und Schulanstalten (St Petersburg, 1865, 8vo),
and Kawall, Die neuen russ. Naturforschergesellschaften (Riga,
1872-1874). (H. R. T.)
320
SOCIETY ISLANDS— SOCINUS
SOCIETY ISLANDS (French Archipel de la Societe). an archi-
pelago of the Pacific Ocean, in the eastern part of Polynesia,
between 16° and 18° S., 148° and 155° W., with a total land area
of 637 sq. m., belonging to France. (For map, see PACIFIC
OCEAN.) The principal island is Tahiti (g.v.). Part of the
archipelago was discovered by Pedro Fernandez Quiros in 1607.
In 1767 Samuel Wallis re-discovered it, and named it King
George's Island. In 1768 Louis de Bougainville visited Tahiti,
claimed it as French, and named it La Nouvelle Cythere. On
the 1 2th of April 1769 the British expedition to observe the
transit of Venus, under the naval command of James Cook,
arrived at Tahiti. On this first voyage (he subsequently re-
visited the islands twice) he named the Leeward group of
islands Society in honour of the Royal Society, at the instigation
of which the expedition had been sent; Tahiti and the adjacent
islands he called Georgian, but the first name was subsequently
adopted for the whole group. In 1772 and 1774 the islands were
visited by a Spanish government expedition, and some attempt
was made at colonization. In 1788 Lieutenant Bligh of the
" Bounty " spent some time at Tahiti, to which island the his-
torical interest now passes.
The archipelago is divided into two groups — the Leeward (lies sous
le Vent) and the Windward Islands (lies du Vent) — by a clear channel
of 60 m. in breadth. The Leeward Islands are Tubai or Motuiti,
a small uninhabited- lagoon island, the most northern of the group;
Marua or Maupiti — " Double Mountain," the most western; Bola-
Bola or Bora-Bora; Huaheine; Raiatea or Ulietea (Spanish Prin-
cessa), the largest island of this cluster, and Tahaa, which approach
each other very closely, and are encircled by one reef. To the west
lie the small groups of coral islets — Mopiha (Lord Howe), Ura (Scilly)
.and Bellingshausen (discovered by Otto von Kotzebue, 1824). To
the Windward Islands belong Tapamanu or Maiaiti (Wallis's Sir
Charles Saunders's Island and Spanish Pelada) ; Moorea or Eimeo
(Wallis's Duke of York Island and Spanish San Domingo) ; Tahiti —
Cook's Otaheite (probably Quiros's Sagittaria ; Wallis's King George's
Island, Bougainville's Nouvelle Cythere and Spanish Isla d'Amat) ;
Tetuaroa — " The Distant Sea " (? Quiros's Fugitiva; Bougainville's
Umaitia and Spanish Tres Hermanos) ; and Maitea (? Quiros's La
Dezana, Wallis's Osnaburg Island, Bougainville's Boudoir and Pic
de la Boudeuse and Spanish Cristoval), the most eastern and
southern of the archipelago. Tetuaroa and Tubai, besides the three
western Leeward Isles, are coral atolls. The length of the Tetuaroa
reef ring is about six miles; it bears twelve palm-covered islets, of
which several are inhabited, and has one narrow boat-passage
leading into the lagoon. With the exception just named, the
islands, which agree very closely in geological structure, are moun-
tainous, and present, perhaps, the most wonderful example of volcanic
rocks to be found on the globe. They are formed of trachyte,
dolerite and basalt. There are raised coral beds high up the moun-
tains, and lava occurs in a variety of forms, even in solid flows; but
all active volcanic agency has so long ceased that the craters have
been almost entirely obliterated by denudation. Hot springs are
unknown, and earthquakes are slight and rare. Nevertheless,
under some of these flows remains of plants and insects of species
now living in the islands have been found — a proof that the forma-
tion as well as the denudation of the country is, geologically speaking,
recent. In profile the islands are rugged and elevated (7349 ft. in
Tahiti, Moorea 4045 ft., Raiatea 3389, Bola-Bola 2165). A moun-
tain, usually with very steep peaks, forms the centre, if not the
whole island; on all sides steep ridges descend to the sea, or, as is
oftener the case, to a considerable belt of flat land. These moun-
tains, excepting some stony crags and cliffs, are clothed with dense
forest, the soil being exceptionally fertile. All voyagers agree that
for varied beauty of form and colour the Society Islands arc unsur-
passed in the Pacific. Innumerable rills gather in lovely streams,
and, after heavy rains, torrents precipitate themselves in grand
cascades from the mountain cliffs — a feature so striking as to have
attracted the attention of all voyagers, from Wallis downwards.
Round most of the islands there is a luxuriant coral growth ; but, as
the reefs lie at no great distance, and follow the line of the coast,
the inter-island channels are comparatively safe. Maitea, which
rises from the sea as an exceedingly abrupt cone, and Tapamanu,
appear to be the only islands without almost completely encircling
barrier-reefs. The coasts are fairly indented, and, protected by
these reefs, which often support a chain of green islets, afford many
good harbours and safe anchorages. In this respect the Society
Islands have the advantage of many Polynesian islands.
The populations of the chief islands are: Tahiti 10,300, Moorea
1600, Raiatea and Tahaa 2300, Huaheine 1300, Bola-Bola 800; and
that of the whole archipelago is about 18,500.
SOCINUS, the latinized form of the Italian Sozini, Sozzini
or Soccini, a name born by two Italian theologians.
I. LELIO FRANCESCO MARIA SOZINI (1525-1562) was born at
Siena on the 29th of January 1525. His family descended from
Sozzo, a banker at Percena, whose second son, Mino Sozzi,
settled as a notary at Siena in 1304. Mino Sozzi's grandson,
Sozzino (d. 1403), was ancestor of a line of patrician jurists and
canonists, Mariano Sozzini senior (1397-1467) being the first
and the most famous, and traditionally regarded as the first
freethinker in the family. Lelio (who spells his surname
Sozini, latinizing it Sozinus) was the sixth son of Mariano
Sozzini junior (1482-1556) by his wife Camilla Salvetti, and was
educated as a jurist under his father's eye at Bologna. He told
Melanchthon that his desire to reach the f antes juris led him to
Biblical research, and hence to rejection of " the idolatry of
Rome." He gained some knowledge of Hebrew and Arabic
(to Bibliander he gave a manuscript of the Koran) as well as
Greek, but was never a laborious student. His father supplied
him with means, and on coming of age he repaired to Venice,
the headquarters of the evangelical movement in Italy. A
tradition, first published by Sand in 1678, amplified by subse-
quent writers, makes him a leading spirit in alleged theological
conferences at Vicenza, about 1546; the whole account (abound-
ing in anachronisms, including the story ol Sozini's flight) must
be rejected as fabulous. At this period the standpoint of Sozini
was that of evangelical reform; he exhibits a singular union
of enthusiastic piety with subtle theological speculation. At
Chiavenna in 1547 he came under the influence of Camillo of
Sicily, a gentle mystic, surnamed Renato, whose teaching at
many points resembled that of the early Quakers. Pursuing
his religious travels, his family name and his personal charm
ensured him a welcome in Switzerland, France, England and
Holland. Returning to Switzerland at the close of 1548, with
commendatory letters to the Swiss churches from Nicolas
Meyer, envoy from Wittenberg to Italy, we find him (1549-1550)
at Geneva, Basel (with Sebastian Miinster) and Zurich (lodging
with Pellican). He is next at Wittenberg (July 1550 to June
1551), first as Melanchthon's guest, then with Johann Forster
for improvement of his Hebrew. From Wittenberg he returned
to Zurich (end of 1551), after visiting Prague, Vienna and
Cracow. Political events drew him back to Italy in June 1552;
two visits to Siena (where freedom of speech was for the moment
possible, owing to the shaking off of the Spanish yoke) brought
him into fruitful contact with his young nephew Fausto. He
was at Padua (not Geneva, as is often said) at the date of Ser-
vetus's execution (Oct. 27, 1553). Thence he made his way to
Basel (January 1554), Geneva (April) and Zurich (May), where
he took up his abode.
Calvin, like Melanchthcn, received Sozini with open arms.
Melanchthon (though a phrase in one of his letters has been
strangely misconstrued) never regarded him with theological
suspicion. To Calvin's keen glance Sozini's over-speculative
tendency and the genuineness of his religious nature were equally
apparent. A passage often quoted (apart from the context)
in one of Calvin's letters (January i, 1552) has been viewed as
a rapture of amicable intercourse; but, while more than once
uneasy apprehensions arose in Calvin's mind, there was no breach
of correspondence or of kindliness. Of all the Reformers,
Bullinger was Sozini's closest intimate, his warmest and wisest
friend. Sozini's theological difficulties turned on the resur-
rection of the body, predestination, the ground of salvation (on
these points he corresponded with Calvin), the doctrinal basis
of the original gospel (his queries to Bullinger), the nature of
repentance (to Rudolph Gualther), the sacraments (to Johann
Wolff). It was the fate of Servetus that directed his mind to
the problem of the Trinity. At Geneva (April 1554) he made
incautious remarks on the common doctrine, emphasized in a
subsequent letter to Martinengo, the Italian pastor. Bullinger,
at the instance of correspondents (including Calvin), questioned
Sozini as to his faith, and received from him an explicitly ortho-
dox confession (reduced to writing on the i5th of July 1555)
with a frank reservation of the right of further inquiry. A
month before this Sozini had been sent with Martino Muralto to
Basel, to secure Ochino as pastor of the Italian church at Zurich;
and it is clear that in their subsequent intercourse the minds
SOCINUS
321
of Sozini and Ochino (a thinker of the same type as Camillo,
with finer dialectic skill) acted powerfully on each other in the
radical discussion of theological problems. In 1556 by the
death of his father (who left him nothing by will), Sozini was
involved in pecuniary anxieties. With influential introductions
(one from Calvin) he visited in 1558 the courts of Vienna and
Cracow to obtain support for an appeal to the reigning duke at
Florence for the realization of his own and the family estates.
Curiously enough Melanchthon's letter introducing Sozini to
Maximilian II. invokes as an historic parallel the hospitable
reception rendered by the emperor Constans to Athanasius,
when he fled from Egypt to Treves. Well received out of
Italy, Sozini could do nothing at home, and apparently did not
proceed beyond Venice. The Inquisition had its eye on the
family; his brother Cornelio was imprisoned at Rome; his
brothers Celso and Camillo and his nephew Fausto were " repu-
tati Luterani," and Camillo had fled from Siena. In August
1559 Sozini returned to Zurich, where his brief career was
closed by his death on the I4th of May 1562, at his lodging in
the house of Hans Wyss, silk-weaver. No authentic portrait
of him exists; alleged likenesses on medals, &c., are spurious.
The news of his uncle's death reached Fausto at Lyons through
Antonio Maria Besozzo. Repairing to Zurich Fausto got his
uncle's few papers, comprising very little connected writing
but a good many notes. Fausto has so often been treated as
a plagiarist from Lelio that it may be well to state that his
indebtedness, somewhat over-estimated by himself, was twofold:
(i) He derived from Lelio in conversation (1552-1553) the germ
of his theory of salvation; (2) Lelio's paraphrase (1561) of apxri
in John i. i as " the beginning of the gospel " gave Fausto an
ex-egetical hint for the construction of his Christology. Apart
from these suggestions, Fausto owed nothing to Lelio, save a
curiously far-fetched interpretation of John viii. 58 and the
stimulus of his pure character and shining qualities. The two
men were of contrasted types. Lelio, impulsive and inquisitive,
was in quest of the spiritual ground of religious truths; the drier
mind of Fausto sought in 'external authority a basis for the
ethical teaching of Christianity.
Sozini's extant writings are: (i) De sacramentis dissertatio (1560),
four parts, and (2) De resurreclione (a fragment) ; these were first
printed in F. et L. Socini, item E. Soneri tractatus (Amsterdam,
1654). To these may be added his Confession (1555), printed in
Hottinger, Hist, eccles. N.T. ix. 16, 5 (1667); and about twenty-four
letters, not collected, but may be found dispersed, and more or less
correctly given in Illgen, in Trechsel, in the Corpus reformatorum
edition of Calvin's works, and in E. Burnat, L. Socin (1894); the
handwriting of the originals is exceedingly crabbed. Sand adds a
Rhapsodia in Esaiam prophetam, of which nothing is known. Beza
suspected that Sozini had a hand in the De haereticis, an sint
persequendi (1553); and to him has also been assigned the Contra
libellum Calvini (1554); both are the work of Castellio, and there is
no ground for attributing any part of them to Sozini. Beza also
assigned to him (in 1567) an anonymous Explicatio (1562) of the.
proem of St John's Gospel, which was the work of Fausto; this
error, adopted by Zanchi, has been a chief source of the misconcep-
tion which treats Lelio as a heresiarch. In Franc. Gwmo'sDefensiv
cath. doct. de S. Trin. (1590-1591) is an anonymous enumeralio of
motives for professing the doctrine of the Trinity, by some ascribed
to Lelio; by others, with somewhat more probability, to Fausto.
For the life of L. Sozini the best guide is Trechsel, Die prot.
antitrin. vor F. Socin, vol. ii. (1844) ; but there are valuable materials
in Illgen, Vita L. Socini (1814), and especially Symbolae ad vitam et
doctrinam L. Soc., &c. (1826). R. Wallace, Antitrin. biog. (1850),
gives the ordinary Unitarian view, relying on Bock, Da Porta and
Lubieniecki. See also Theological Review (July 1879), and Bonet-
Maury's Early Sources of Eng. Unit. Christ, (trans. E. P. Hall, 1884).
Use has been made above of unprinted sources.
II. FAUSTO PAOLO SOZZINI (1539-1604) was born at Siena
on the 5th of December 1539, the only son of Alessandro Sozzini,
" princeps subtilitatum," by Agnese, daughter of Borghese
Petrucci, a descendant of Pandolfo Petrucci, the Cromwell of
Siena. Unlike his uncle Lelio, Fausto spells his] surname
Sozzini, latinizing it Socinus. His father died in 1541, in his
thirty-second year. Fausto had no regular education, being
brought up at home with his sister Fillide, and spent his
youth in desultory reading at Scopeto, the family country-seat.
To the able women of his family he owed the strong moral impress
XXV. II
which marked him through life; his early intellectual stimulus
came from his uncle Celso, a nominal Catholic, but an esprit fort,
founder of the short-lived Accademia dei Sizienti (1554), of which
young Fausto was a member. In 1556 his grandfather's will,
leaving him one-fourth of the family estates, made him inde-
pendent. Next year he entered the Accademia degli intronati,
the centre of intellectual life in Siena, taking the academic name
" II Frastagliato," his badge Un mare turbato da venti, his motto
Turbant sed extollunt. About this time Panzirolo (De Claris legg.
interpp., first published 1637) describes him as a young man of
fine talent, with promise of a legal career; but he despised the
law, preferring to write sonnets. In 1558-1559 the suspicion of
Lutheranism fell on him in common with his uncles Celso and
Camillo. Coming of age (1561) he went to Lyons, probably
engaging in mercantile business; he revisited Italy after his
uncle Lelio's death; we find him in 1562 on the roll of the Italian
church at Geneva; there is no trace of any relations with Calvin;
to Lyons he returned next year. The evangelical position was
not radical enough for him. In his Explicatio (1562) of the
proem to St John's Gospel he already attributes to our Lord an
official, not an essential, deity; a letter of 1563 rejects the natural
immortality of man (a position subsequently developed in his
disputation with Pucci). Towards the end of 1563 he returned
to Italy, conforming to the Catholic Church, and for twelve
years, as his unpublished letters show, was in the service of
Isabella de Medici, daughter of the grand-duke Cosimo of
Tuscany (not, as Przypkowski says, in the service of the grand-
duke). This portion of his life he regarded as wasted; till 1567
he gave some attention to legal duties, and at the instance of
"a great personage" wrote (1570) his treatise De auctoritate
s. scripturae. In 1571 he was in Rome, probably with his
patroness. He left Italy at the end of 1575, and after Isabella's
death (strangled by her husband in 1576) he declined the over-
tures of her brother Francesco, now grand-duke, who pressed
him to return. Francesco was doubtless aware of the motive
which led Sozzini to quit Italy; there is every reason to believe
Przypkowski's statement that the grand-duke agreed to secure
to him the income of his property so long as he published nothing
in his own name. Sozzini now fixed himself at Basel, gave
himself to close study of the Bible, began translating the Psalms
into Italian verse, and, in spite of increasing deafness, became
a centre of theological debates. His discussion with Jacques
Couet on the doctrine of salvation issued in a treatise De Jesu
Christo seruatore (finished July 12, 1578), the circulation of
which in manuscript commended him to the notice of Giorgio
Blandrata (q.v.), court physician in Poland and Transylvania,
and ecclesiastical wire puller in the interests of heterodoxy.
Transylvania had for a short time (1559-1571) enjoyed full re-
ligious liberty under an anti-Trinitarian prince, John Sigismund.
The existing ruler, Christopher Bathori, favoured the Jesuits;
it was now Blandrata's object to limit the " Judaic " tendencies
of the eloquent anti-Trinitarian bishop, Francis David (1510-
I579)> with whom he had previously co-operated. A charge of
the gravest sort against Blandrata's morals had destroyed his
influence with David. Hence he called in Sozzini to reason with
David, who had renounced the worship of Christ. In Sozzini's
scheme of doctrine, terms in themselves orthodox were employed
in a heretical sense. Thus Christ was God, though in nature
purely human, namely as un Dio subalterno, al quale in un data
tempo il Dio supremo cedetle U governo del mondo (Cantu). In
matter of worship Sozzini distinguished between adoratio
Chrisli, the homage of the heart, imperative on all Christians,
and inwcatio Chrisli, the direct address of prayer, which was
simply permissive (Blandrata would have made it imperative);
though in Sozzini's view, prayer, to whomsoever addressed, was
received by Christ as mediator, for transmission to the father.
In November 1578 Sozzini reached Kolozsvar (Klausenburg)
from Poland, and did his best, during a visit of four months
and a half under David's roof, to argue him into this modified
doctrine of invocation. The upshot was that David from the
pulpit exerted all his powers in denouncing all cultus of Christ.
His civil trial followed, on a charge of innovation. Sozzini
322
SOCIOLOGY
hurried back to Poland before it began. He cannot be accused
of complicity with what he calls the rage of Blandrata; he was
no party to David's incarceration at Deva, where the old man
miserably perished in less than three months. He was willing
that David should be prohibited from preaching pending the
decision of a general synod; and his references to the case
show that (as in the later instances of Jacobo Paleology,
Christian Franken and Martin Seidel) theological aversions,
though they never made him uncivil, froze up his native kind-
ness and blinded his perceptions of character. Blandrata
ultimately conformed to the Catholic Church; hence Sozzini's
laudatory dedication to him (1584) of his De Jesu Christi natura,
in reply to the Calvinist Andrew Wolan, though printed in his
works, was not used. The remainder (1570-1604) of Sozzini's
life was spent in Poland. Excluded at first by his views on
baptism (which he regarded as applicable only to Gentile con-
verts) from the Minor or anti-Trinitarian Church (largely ana-
baptist), he acquired by degrees a predominant influence in its
synods. He converted the Arians from their avowal of our
Lord's pre-existence, and from their rejection of the invocatio
Christi; he repressed the semi-Judaizers whom he failed to
convince. Through correspondence with friends he directed
also the policy of the anti-Trinitarian Church of Transylvania.
Forced to leave Cracow in 1583, he found a home with a Polish
noble, Christopher Morsztyn, whose daughter Elizabeth he
married (1586). She died in the following year, a few months
after the birth of a daughter, Agnese (1587-1654), afterwards
the wife of Stanislas Wiszowaty, and the progenitress of numer-
ous descendants. In 1587 the grand-duke Francesco died; to
this event Sozzini's biographers attribute the loss of his Italian
property, but his unpublished letters show that he was on good
terms with the new grand-duke, Ferdinando. Family disputes
had arisen respecting the interpretation of his grandfather's
will; in October 1590 the holy office at Siena disinherited him,
allowing him a pension, apparently never paid. Failure of
supplies from Italy dissolved the compact under which his
writings were to remain anonymous, and he began to publish
in his own name. The consequence was that in 1598 a mob
expelled him from Cracow, wrecking his house, and grossly
ill-using his person. Friends gave him a ready welcome at
Luslawice, 30 miles east from Cracow; and here, having long been
troubled with colic and the stone, he died on the 4th of March
1604. A limestone block with illegible inscriptions marks
his grave.1 His engraved portrait is prefixed to his works (the
original is not extant) ; an oil-painting, formerly at Siena, cannot
be considered authentic.
Sozzini's works, edited by his grandson Andrew Wiszowaty and
the learned printer F. Kuyper, are contained in two closely printed
folios (Amsterdam, 1668). They rank as the first two volumes of
the Bibliotheca fratrum polonorum, though the works of Crell and
Schlichting were the first of the series to be printed. They include
all Sozzini's extant theological writings, except his essay on pre-
destination (in which he denies that God foresees the actions of
free agents) prefixed to Castellio's Dialogi IV. (1578, reprinted 1613)
and his revision of a school manual Instrumentum doctrinarum
arislotelicum (1586). His pseudonyms, easily interpreted, were
Felix Turpio Urbevetanus, Prosper Dysidaeus, Gratianus Prosper
and Gratianus Turpio Gerapolensis ( = Senensis). Some of his
early verse is in Ferentilli's Scielta di stanze di diversi autori
toscani (1579, 1594); other specimens are given in Cantu and in the
Athenaeum (Aug. II, 1877); more are preserved at Siena. Sozzini
considered that his ablest work was his Contra atheos, which perished
in the riot at Cracow (1598). Later he began, but left incomplete,
more than one work designed to exhibit his system as a whole.
His reputation as a thinker must rest upon (l) his De auctoritate
s. scripturae (1570) and (2) his De Jesu Christo servatore (1578).
The former was first published (Seville, 1588) by Lopez, a Jesuit,
who claimed it as his own, but prefixed a preface maintaining
(contrary to a fundamental position of Sozzini) that man by nature
has a knowledge of God. A French version (1592) was approved
by the ministers of Basel ; the English translation by Edward Coombe
(1731) was undertaken in consequence of the commendation in a
charge (1728) by Bishop Smalbroke, who observes that Grotius
had borrowed from it in his De veritate Christ, rel. In small
1 No trace is discoverable on the stone of the alleged epitaph : —
" Tota ruit Babylon ; destruxit tecta Lutherus,
Calvinus muros, sed fundamenta Socinus."
compass it anticipates the historical argument of the "credi-
bility " writers; in trying it by modern tests, it should be remem-
bered that Sozzini, regarding it (1581) as not adequately meeting
the cardinal difficulties attending the proof of the Christian religion,
began to reconstruct its positions in his Lectiones sacrae (unfinished).
His treatise on the Saviour renders a real service to theology]
placing orthodoxy and heresy in new relations of fundamental
antagonism, and narrowing the conflict to the main personal benefit
of religion. _ Of the person of Christ in this treatise he says nothing;
its one topic is the work of Christ, which in his view operates upon
man alone; the theological sagacity of Sozzini may be measured by
the persistency with which this idea tends to recur. Though his
name has been attached to a school of opinion, he disclaimed the
r61e of a heresiarch, and declined to give his unreserved adhesion
to any one sect. His confidence in the conclusions of his own mind
has earned him the repute of a dogmatist ; but it was his constant
aim to reduce and simplify the fundamentals of Christianity. Not
without some ground does the memorial tablet at Siena (inscription
by Brigidi, 1879) characterize him as vindicator of human reason
against the supernatural. Of his non-theological doctrines the most
important is his assertion of the unlawfulness, not only of war, but
of the taking of human life in any circumstances. Hence ciie
comparative mildness of his proposals for dealing with religious and
anti-religious offenders, though it cannot be said that he had grasped
the complete theory of toleration. Hence, too, his contention that
magisterial office is unlawful for a Christian.
AUTHORITIES. — For the biography of Sozzini the best materials
are his letters; a collection is in his works; others are given by
Cantu; more are preserved at Siena and Florence ; his correspondence
is open and frank, never sparing his weak points. The earliest life
(prefixed to his works) is by S. Przypkowski (1636) ; in English, by
J. Bidle (1653). This is the foundation of the article by Bayle,
the Memoirs by J. Toulmin (1777), and the article by R. Wallace
(Antitrin. Biog., 1850). Cantu's sketch in Gli Eretici d'ltalia (1866)
gives a genealogy of the Sozzini (needing revision). The best
defence of Sozzini in his relations with David is by James Yates
(Christ. Pioneer, Feb. 1834); a less favourable view is taken by
David's Hungarian biographer, Elek Jakab (Ddvid ' F. Emleke, 1879).
Of his system — best known through the Racovian Catechism (1605,
planned by Sozzini and carried out by others, principally Valentine
Schmalz) ; in English, by T. Rees (1818) — there is a special study by
O. Fock, Der Socinianismus (1847). See also The Sozzini and their
School, by A. Gordon (Theol. Rev., 1879; cf. Christian Life, Aug. 25,
1883). Use has been made above of unpublished papers in the
archives of Florence, with others in the archives, communal library
and collection of Padre Toti at Siena. (A. Go. *)
SOCIOLOGY, a science which in the most inclusive sense may
be defined as that of human society, in the same manner that
Biology may be taken to imply the science of life. The word
Sociologie was first used by Comte in 1839 as an equivalent of
the expression, social physics, previously in use, and was intro-
duced, he said, to describe by a single term that part of natural
philosophy which relates to the positive study of the fundamental
laws of social phenomena. The word is a hybrid, compounded
from both Latin and Greek terms. It is now generally accepted
in international usage; none of the terms, such as politics,
political science, social economy, social philosophy and social
science which have been suggested instead of it having succeeded
in taking its place.
There has been in the past a certain hesitation, especially in
England, to admit sociology as the title of a particular science
in itself until it was made clear what the subject must be
considered to cover. In certain quarters sociology is still often
incorrectly spoken of as if it implied the practical equivalent
of the science of politics. Henry Sidgwick, for instance, con-
sidered the word as usually employed in this sense, and while he
himself recognized that sociology must have a wider scope than
politics, he thought that in practice " the difference between the
two subjects is not indeed great " (Elements of Politics). This
view of sociology, which at one time widely prevailed, dates
from an earh'er period of knowledge. The difference between
sociology and the science of politics is wide and is due to funda-
mental causes, a true perception of which is essential to the
proper study of the science of society. It is a feature of
organisms that as we rise in the scale of life the meaning of the
present life of the organism is to an increasing degree subordinate
to the larger meaning of its life as a whole. Similarly, as the
advance from primitive society to society of a more organic type
takes place, a marked feature of the change is the development of
the principles through which the increasing subordination of the
SOCIOLOGY
323
present interests of society to the future interests of society is
accomplished. It is, however, characteristic of the last-mentioned
principles that their operation extends beyond the political con-
sciousness of the state or nation, and that this distinction becomes
more and more marked in the higher societies. The scope and
meaning of sociology as a science is, therefore, quite different
from the scope and meaning of the science of politics. In other
quarters, again, the word sociology is often incorrectly used as
no more than a covering term for subjects which are fully treated
in various subdivisions of social science. Thus when the science
of society is distinguished from the special social sciences which
fall within its general purview, it may be considered, says
Lester F. Ward, that " we may range the next most general
departments as so many genera, each with its appropriate species
— that is, the classification of the sciences may be made strictly
synoptical. When this is done it will be possible for philosophers,
like good systematists, to avoid making their ordinal characters
include any properly generic ones, or their generic characters
include any that are only specific. Thus understood, sociology
is freed from the unnecessary embarrassment of having hanging
about it in more or less disorder a burden of complicated details,
in a great variety of attitudes which make it next to impossible
to secure due attention to the fundamental principles of so vast
a science. These details are classified and assigned each to its
proper place (genus or species), and the field is cleared for the
calm contemplation of the central problem of determining the
facts, the law and the principles of human association " (Outlines
of Sociology). This definition, good as it is in some respects,
does not make clear to the mind the essential fact of the
science, namely, that the principles of sociology involve more
than the generalized total of the principles of the subordinate
sciences which it is said to include. In Herbert Spencer's
writings we see the subject in a period of transition. Spencer
placed his Principles of Sociology between his Principles of
Psychology and Principles of Ethics. This fact brings out the
unsettled state of the subject in his time, while it also serves to
exhibit the dominance of the ideas of an earlier stage. For
psychology, which Spencer thus places before sociology, cannot
nowadays be fully, or even in any real sense scientifically, dis-
cussed apart from sociological principles, once it is accepted
that in the evolution of the human mind the principles of the
social process are always the ultimate controlling factor.
Sociology, therefore, as a true science in itself, must be regarded
as a science occupied quite independently with the principles
which underlie human society considered as in a con-
.n of development. In this sense the conclusions
of sociology cannot be fully stated in relation to the
phenomena dealt with in any of the divisions of social science,
and they must be taken as implying more than the sum total
of the results obtained in all of them. The sociologist must
always keep clearly before him that the claims of sociology in
the present conditions of knowledge go considerably beyond
those involved in any of the foregoing positions. As it is the
meaning of the social process which in the last resort controls
everything, even the evolution of the human mind and all its
contents, so none of the sciences of human action, such as ethics,
politics, economics or psychology can have any standing as a
real science except it obtains its credentials through sociology
by making its approach through the sociological method. It
is in sociology, in short, that we obtain the ruling principles to
which the laws and principles of all the social sciences stand in
controlled and subordinate relationship.
The fathers of the science of society may be said to be the
Greek philosophers, and in particular Plato and Aristotle. The
Sociology Laws and the Republic of the former and the Ethics
among the and Politics of the latter have, down to modern times,
Greets. an(j notwithstanding the great difference in the stand-
point of the world and the change in social and political
conditions, exercised a considerable influence on the develop-
ment of the theory of society. To the Greeks the science of
society presented itself briefly as the science of the best method
of attaining the most perfect life within the consciousness of
the associated life of the State. " In this ideal of the
State," says Bluntschli, " are combined and mingled all
the efforts of the Greeks in religion and in law, in morals
and social life, in art and science, in the acquisition and
management of wealth, in trade and industry. The individual
requires the State to give him a legal existence: apart from the
State he has neither safety nor freedom. The barbarian is a
natural enemy, and conquered enemies become slaves. . . .
The Hellenic State, like the ancient State in general . . . was all
in all. The citizen was nothing except as a member of the State.
His whole existence depended on and was subject to the State.
. . . The State knew neither moral nor legal limits to its power "
(Theory of the State).
It was within the limits of this conception that most of the
Greek theories of society were constructed. The fundamental
conception of the Roman writers was not essentially
different, although the opportunism of the Rom
State, when it became a universal power embrac-
ing the social and religious systems of many peoples, in
some degree modified it; so that with the growth of jus
gentium outside the jus civile, the later writers of the empire
brought into view an aspect of the State in which law began to
be to some extent distinguished from State morality. With the
spread of Christianity in Western Europe there commenced
a stage in which the social structure, and with it the theory of
society, underwent profound modifications. These changes are
still in progress, and the period over which they extend has pro-
duced a great and increasing number of writers on the science
of society. The conceptions of each period have been intimately
related to the character of the influences controlling development
at the time. The writers up to the i4th century are nearly all
absorbed in the great controversy between the spiritual and
temporal power which was defining itself during this stage in
Western history. In the period of the Renaissance and the
Reformation the modern development of the theory of society
may be said to begin. Machiavelli is the first great name in
this period. Bodin with other writers up to the time of Mon-
tesquieu carry the development forward in France. The Dutch
writer Grotius, although chiefly recognized at the time as an
authority on international law, had much influence in bringing
into view principles which mark more directly the transition
to the modern period, his De jure belli et pads, issued in 1625,
being in many respects an important contribution to the theory
of society. Hobbes and Locke are the principal representatives
of the influential school of writers on the principles of society
which the period of the political and religious upheaval of the
I7th century produced in England. The ideas of Locke, in
particular, exercised a considerable influence on the subsequent
development of the theory of the State in Western thought.
From the lyth century forward it may be said, strictly speaking,
that all the leading contributions to the general body of Western
philosophy have been contributions to the development of the
science of society. At the time of Locke, and to a large extent
in Locke's writings, there may be distinguished three distinct
tendencies in the prevailing theory of society. Each of these has
since become more definite, and has progressed along a particular
line of development. There is first the empirical tendency, which
is to be followed through the philosophy of Hume down to the
present day, in what may be called — to borrow an idea from
Huxley — the physiological method in the modern study of the
science of society. A second tendency — which developed through
the critical philosophy of Kant, the idealism of Hegel, and the
historical methods of Savigny in the field of jurisprudence and
of the school of Schmoller in the domain of economics — finds
its current expression in the more characteristically German
conception of the organic nature of the modern State. A third
tendency — which is to be followed through the writings of
Rousseau, Diderot, d'Alembert and the literature of the French
Revolution — found its most influential form of expression in
the ipth century in the theories of the English Utilitarians, from
Bentham to John Stuart Mill. In this development it is a
theory of the utilitarian State which is principally in view. In
324
SOCIOLOGY
Comte.
its latest phase it has progressed to the expression which it has
reached in the theories of Marxian Socialism, in which the
corresponding conception of the ascendancy of the economic
factor in history may now be said to be the characteristic feature.
All of these developments, the meaning of which has now been
absorbed into the larger evolutionary conception to be described
later, must be considered to have contributed towards the foun-
dation of modern sociology. The definition of the relations to
each other of the positions they have severally brought into
view is the first important v/ork of the new science.
At the period between 1830 and 1842, when Comte published
the Philosophic positive, the conditions were not ready for
a science of society. The Darwinian doctrine of
evolution by natural selection had not yet been
enunciated, and knowledge of social phenomena was limited
and very imperfect. As an instance of the character of the
change that has since been in progress, it may be mentioned
that one of Comte's main positions — that, indeed, to which
most of the characteristic conceptions of his system of
philosophy were related — was that "the anatomical and
physiological study of individual man " should precede the
theory of the human mind and of human society. Here
the position is the one already referred to which has prevailed
in the study of the social sciences down into recent times.
It was supposed that the governing principles of society were
to be discovered by the introspective study of the individual
mind, rather than that the clue to the governing principles of
the individual mind was only to be discovered by the study of
the social process. It must now be considered that no really
fundamental or far-reaching principle of human development
can be formulated as the result of Comte's position. For with
the application of the doctrine of evolution to society a position
is becoming defined which is almost the reverse of it, namely,
that the development of the individual, and to a large extent
of the human mind itself, must be regarded as|the correlative of
the social process in evolution. The study of the principles of the
process of social evolution would therefore in this sense have
to come before the complete study of the individual, and even
to precede the construction of a system of psychology scientific
in the highest sense. Comte, apart from his want of mastery of
the historical method in dealing with sociological 'development,
possessed, on the whole, little insight into the meaning of the
characteristic problem in which the human mind is involved in
its social evolution, and to the definition of which not only the
processes of Western history, but the positions successively
developed in Western thought, must all be considered as con-
tributing. His great merit was the perception of the importance
of the biological method in the science of society, the comprehen-
sion of the fact that there can be no science of society if its
divisions are studied apart from each other; and finally, and
although it led at the time to the formulation of no important
principle of human development, the intuition that sociology
was not simply a theory of the State, but the science of what he
called the associated life of humanity.
It has to be observed that, preceding the application of the
doctrine of evolution to society, most of the contributions to
The Ruling soc'al science have a certain aspect in which they
Principle of resemble each other. While in current theories
Early Sod- society tends to be presented as evolving, consciously
oiogkal of unconsciously, under stress of natural selection,
/;o"s?/n/7u-towards social efficiency, the earlier contributions
enceof were merely theories of the meaning and object
Greek Coo- of society as a medium for the better realization of
'the'state' human desires- In tm°s presentation of the sub-
ject the influence of the Greek conception of the State
upon modern sociology may be traced down to the present
day. At the beginning of the modern period it reappears in
Machiavelli (Titus Livius, i., iii., and The Prince). It is
represented in modified form in Hobbes (Leviathan), and in
Locke (Two Treatises of Government), each of whom conceived
man as desiring to leave the state of nature and as consciously
founding civilized society, " in order that he might obtain
the benefits of government " in the associated State. It is
continued in Rousseau and the writers of the French Revolu-
tion, who similarly imagined the individual voluntarily leaving
an earlier state of freedom to put " his person and his power
under the direction of the' general will " (Social Contract).
It is characteristic of Jeremy Bentham (e.g. Principles of
Morals and Legislation, i.) and of J. S. Mill (e.g. Utilitari-
anism and Political Economy, iv., vi.). Finally, it survives in
Herbert Spencer, who in like manner sees man originating
society and submitting to political subordination in the asso-
ciated State " through experience of the increased satisfaction
derived under it " (Data of Ethics). It continues at the present
day to be characteristic of many European and some American
writers on sociology, who have been influenced both by Spencer
and the Latin theory of the State, and who therefore, conceiving
sociology not so much as a science of social evolution as a theory
of association, proceed to consider the progress of human associa-
tion as the development of a process " of catering to human
desire for satisfactions of varying degrees of complexity." All
these ideas of society bear the same stamp. They conceive the
science of society as reached through the science of the individual,
the associated State being regarded only as a medium through
which he obtains increased satisfactions. In none of them is
there a clear conception of an organic science of society with
laws and principles of its own controlling all the meaning of the
individual.
With the application of the doctrine of evolution the older
idea in which society is always conceived as the State and as
existing to give increased " satisfaction " is replaced The Doc-
by a new and much more extended conception. In triaeof
the evolutionary view, the development of human Evolution.
society is regarded as the product of a process of stress, in
which progress results from natural selection along the line not of
least effort in realizing human desire, but of the highest social
efficiency in the struggle for existence of the materials of which
society is composed. In the intensity of this process society,
evolving towards higher efficiency, tends to become increasingly
organic, the distinctive feature being the growing subordination
of the individual to the organic social process. All the tendencies
of development — political, economic, ethical and psychological
— and the contents of the human mind itself, have therefore to
be regarded as having ultimate relations to the governing prin-
ciples of the process as a whole. The science of social evolution
has, in short, to be considered, according to this view, as the
science of the causes and principles subordinating the individual
to a process developing by inherent necessity towards social
efficiency, and therefsre as ultimately over-ruling all desires and
interests in the individual towards the highest social potentiality
of the materials of which society is composed. The conflict
between the old and the new conceptions may be distinguished
to an increasing degree as the scope of modern sociology has
gradually become defined; and the opposing ideas of each
may be observed to be sometimes represented and blended, in
varying degrees of complexity, in one and the same writer.
It was natural that one of the first ideas to be held by theor-
ists, as soon as sociology began to make progress to the position
of a real science, was that society must be considered Flrst Coa_
to be organic, and that the term "social organism " ceptionsof
should be brought into use. An increasing number Society as
of writers have been concerned with this aspect of aa Orgaa-
the 'subject, but it has to be noted as a fact of
much interest that all the first ideas of society as an organism
move within the narrow circle of the old conception of the
State just described. The " social organism " in this first
stage of theory is almost universally confused with the State.
The interests of the social organism are therefore confused
with the interest of the individuals which men saw around
them in the State. The science of society was accordingly
regarded as no more than the science of realizing most effec-
tively here and now the desires of those comprising the
existing State. Sidgwick, for instance, considered the science
of politics and the science of sociology as practically coincident,
SOCIOLOGY
325
and his Elements of Politics, extraordinary to relate, contains only
a few words in which it is recognized that the welfare of the
community may be interpreted to mean the welfare not only of
living human beings, but of those who are to come hereafter;
while there is no attempt to apply the fact to any law or principle
of human development. Bentham's utilitarian philosophy,
like that of the two Mills, was based almost entirely on the
idea of the State conceived as the social organism. Writers like
Herbert Spencer (Sociology) and Schaffle, who was for a time
minister of commerce for Austria (Ban und Leben des socialen
Korpers), instituted lengthy comparisons between the social
organism considered as the State and the living individual organ-
ism. These efforts reached their most characteristic expression
in the work of the sociologists who have followed G. Simmel
in lengthy and ingenious attempts at classifying associations,
considering them " as organizations for catering to human
desire." In all these efforts the conception of the State as the
social organism is vigorously represented, although it is par-
ticularly characteristic of the work of sociologists in countries
where the influence of Roman law is still strong, and where,
consequently, the Latin conception of the State tends to influence
all theories of society as soon as the attempt is made to place
them on a scientific basis. The sterilizing effect for long pro-
duced on sociology by this first restricted conception of the social
organism has been most marked. It is often exemplified in
ingenious attempts made, dealing with the principles of sociology,
to construct long categories of human associations, based on
quite superficial distinctions. None of the comparisons of this
kind that have been made have contributed in any marked
degree to the elucidation of the principles of modern society.
Paul Leroy-Beaulieu's criticism of Schaffle's efforts at compari-
sons— anatomical, physiological, biological and psychological —
between the individual organism and the State as a social
organism applies to most of the attempts of this period to insti-
tute biological comparisons between the life of the social organ-
ism and that of organisms in general, " the mind sinks over-
whelmed under the weight of all these analogies, these endless
divisions and subdivisions to which they give rise. . . . The
result is not in proportion to the effort " (L'Etat moderne el ses
fonctions).
In tracing the direction of this conflict between the newer and
older tendencies in modern sociology, it is in Herbert Spencer's
writings that the student will find presented in
Spencer clearest definition the characteristic difficulty with
which the old view has tended to be confronted, as
the attempt has continued to be made to enunciate the principles
of human development from the standpoint that society is to
be considered as a " social organism," but while as yet there is no
clear idea of a social organism with its own laws and its own
consciousness quite distinct from, and extending far beyond
those governing the interests of the individuals at present com-
prising the State.
With the application of the doctrine of evolution to society
considered as an organism, a position has been brought into view
of great interest. It is evident in considering the application
of natural selection to human society that there is a fact, en-
countered at the outset, which is so fundamental that it must
be held to control all the phenomena of social evolution. It is
nowadays a commonplace of knowledge, that the potential
efficiency of an organism must always be taken to be greater
than the sum total of the potential efficiency of all its members
acting as individuals. This arises in the first instance from the
fact, to be observed on all hands in life, of the effects of organiz-
ation, of division of labour, and of specialization of work. But
in an organism of indefinitely extended existence like human
society, it arises in a special sense from the operation of principles
giving society prolonged stability. By these principles indi-
vidual interests are subordinated over long periods of time to
the larger interests of organic society in which the individuals for
the time being cannot participate; and it is from this cause that
civilization of the highest type obtains its characteristic potency
and efficiency in the struggle for existence with lower types.
There follows from this fact, obvious enough once it is mentioned,
an important inference. This is that in the evolution of society
natural selection will, in its characteristic results, reach the
individual not directly, but through society. That is to say,
in social evolution, the interests of the individual, qua individual,
cease to be a matter of first importance. It is by development
in the individual of the qualities which will contribute most to
the efficiency of society, that natural selection will in the long
run produce its distinctive results in the human individual.
It is, in short, about this function of socialization, involving the
increasing subordination of the individual, that the continued
evolution of society by natural selection must be held to centre.
Societies in which the individuals resist the process quickly reach
the limits of their progress, and have to give way in the struggle
for existence before others more organic in which the process
of subordination continues to be developed. In the end it is the
social organizations in which the interests of the individual are
most effectively included in and rendered subservient to the
interests of society considered in its most organic aspect that,
from their higher efficiency, are naturally selected. In other
words, it is the principles subordinating the individual to the
efficiency of society in those higher organic aspects that
project far beyond the life-interests of its existing units which
must ultimately control all principles whatever of human
association.
Spencer, in an elaborate comparison which he made (Essays,
vol. i., and Principles of Sociology) between the social organism
and the individual organism brought into viqw a Spencer ana
position which in its relation to this capital fact of Natural
human evolution exhibits in the clearest manner •Se/ec*'«0'
how completely all the early evolutionists, still under the
influence of old conceptions, failed at first to grasp the signifi-
cance of the characteristic problems of the social organism.
Spencer's comparison originally appeared in an article published
in the Westminster Review for January 1860 entitled " The
Social Organism." This article is in many respects one of the
most noteworthy documents in the literature of the last half
of the igth century. In comparing the social with the indi-
vidual organism Spencer proceeded, after noting the various
aspects in which a close analogy between the two can be estab-
lished, to make, as regards society, an important distinction
by which the nature of the difficulty in which he is involved is
immediately made apparent. While in an individual organism, he
pointed out, it is necessary that the lives of all the parts should be
merged in the life of the whole, because the whole has a corporate
consciousness capable of happiness or misery, it is not so with
society. For in society, he added, the " living units do not and
cannot lose individual consciousness, since the community as
a whole has no corporate consciousness." Spencer proceeded,
therefore, to emphasize the conclusion that " this is an ever-
lasting reason why the welfare of citizens cannot rightly be
sacrificed to some supposed benefit of the State; but why, on
the other hand, the State is to be maintained solely for the benefit
of citizens." The extraordinary conclusion is indeed reached by
Spencer that " the corporate life in society must be subservient
to the lives of the parts, instead of the lives of the parts being
subservient to the corporate life." It will be here clearly in evi-
dence that the " social organism " which Spencer had in view
was the State. But it will be noticed at the same time how alto-
gether remarkable was the position into which he was carried.
Spencer, like most thinking minds of his time, had the clearest
vision, constantly displayed in his writings, of the scientific
importance of that development in history which has gradu-
ally projected the conception of the individual's rights outside
all theories of obligation to the State. He wrote at a time
when the attention of the Western mind in all progressive move-
ments in Western politics had been for generations fixed on that
development in which the liberties of the individual as against
the State had been won. This development had involved
nearly all Western countries in a titanic struggle against the
institutions of an earlier form of society resting on force organ-
ized in the State. Spencer, therefore, like almost every advanced
326
SOCIOLOGY
writer of his period, had constantly before him the character-
istic fact of his age, namely, that the meaning of the individual
had come to be in some way accepted as transcending all theories
of the State and all theories of his obligations to the State. The
position was, therefore, very remarkable. Spencer has been
for long accepted by the general mind as the modern writer
who more than any other has brought into use the term
"social organism," and who has applied the doctrine of evolu-
tion to the theory of its life. Yet here we see him involved in
the apparent self-stultification of describing the social organism
to us as that impossible thing, an organism " whose corporate
life must be subservient to the lives of the parts instead of the
lives of the parts being subservient to the corporate life." It
was obvious that some profound confusion existed. The science
of society was evidently destined to carry us much farther than
this. If natural selection was to be taken as operating on
society, and therefore as tending to produce the highest efficiency
out of the materials that comprise it, it must be effecting the
subordination of the interests of the units to the higher corporate
efficiency of society. But one of only two conclusions could
therefore result from Spencer's position. If we were to regard
the " social organism " as an organism in which the corporate
life must be subservient to the lives of the parts, instead of the
lives of the parts being subservient to the corporate life, it would
be necessary to hold that the individual had succeeded in arrest-
ing the characteristic effects of natural selection on society. But
for the evolutionist, whose great triumph it had been to reveal
to us the principles of natural selection in universal operation
throughout life elsewhere, to have to regard them as suspended
in human society would be an absurd anti-climax. Such being
scarcely conceivable as a final position, it remained only to infer
that natural selection must still be subordinating individual
interests to some larger social meaning in the evolutionary
process. But in this case, society must be subject to principles
which reach farther than those Spencer conceived: it must be
organic in some different and wider sense than he imagined, and
the analogy of the " social organism " as confined within the
consciousness of ascendant interests in the political State must
be considered to be a false one.
We had, in short, reached a capital position in the history of
sociology from which an entirely new horizon was about to
A New become visible. The principles of society organic
Horizon la [n a wider sense than had hitherto been conceived
Sociology. were about to be brought into the discussion. All
the phenomena of the creeds and ethical systems of humanity, of
the great systems of religion and philosophy, with the problems
of which the human mind had struggled over immense stretches
of time as the subordinating process had unfolded itself in history,
were about to be brought into sociology. And not now as if
these represented some detached and functionless development
with which the science of society was not directly concerned,
but as themselves the central feature of the evolutionary process
in human society. The stage in the history of sociology charac-
terized by the confusion of the principles governing the social
organism with those governing the State, the stage which had
lasted from the time of the Greeks to Spencer, and which had
witnessed towards its close Sidgwick's statement that the science
of sociology was in effect coincident with the science of politics,
was thus bound to be definitely terminated by the application
to the science of society of the doctrine of evolution. Yet
Spencer, despite his popular association with the doctrine of
evolution, is thus not to be reckoned as the first of the philo-
sophers of this new stage. His place is really with the last great
names of the preceding period. For his conception of society was
that of Bentham, Mill and Sidgwick. His Principles of Sociology
as a contribution to modern evolutionary science is necessarily
rendered to a large extent futile by the sterilizing conception
of a social organism " in which the corporate life must be sub-
servient to the lives of the parts." It is indeed in the reversal
of this conception that the whole significance of the application
of the doctrine of evolution to the science of society consists.
Henceforward we shall have to regard the social process in
evolution as a process with its own interests, its own psychology,
its own consciousness and its own laws, all quite distinct from
the political consciousness of the modern State, though indi-
rectly controlling and governing the consciousness of the State
so thoroughly that there can be no true science of the latter
without a science of the former.
The new situation created in sociology as the doctrine of
evolution began to be applied to the science had features of great
interest. The advance had been made to a central ne Flnt
position along two entirely distinct lines. The Darwinian*
army of workers was, in consequence, divided into in Sociology.
two more or less isolated camps, each largely in ignorance of
the relation of its own work to that in the other section. It
is often said as a reproach to sociology in the period through
which we are passing that it attracts the kind of recruits who
are not best equipped for its work, while it repels the kind
of mind of philosophical training and wide outlook which it
ought to enlist in its service and for which it has most urgent
need, the loss to sociology both in credit and efficiency being
immense. This is the result of a peculiar situation. Those who
are best qualified to understand the nature and scope of the
problems with which sociology has to deal cannot fail to have
the conviction strongly developed in them that the Darwinian
principles of evolution which reveal to us what may be described
as the dynamics of the universal life process have very important
relations to the dynamics of the social process. The situa-
tion which has arisen in sociology, however, is a very curious
one, although it is one easy to understand when the causes are
explained. When the endeavour is made to follow Darwin and
the early Darwinians through the facts and researches which led
to the formulation of the law of natural selection it may be
observed how their preoccupation was almost exclusively with
the details of the struggle for existence not in societies, but as
it was waged between individuals. This was so as a matter
of course, from the character of the facts which wild nature
supplied, reinforced as they were, by observations on domestic
animals and the practices of breeders.
Darwin made no systematic study of society; and outside
human society the struggle through which natural selection has
operated has been mainly between individuals. It is, of course,
sometimes remarked that the social life exists among animals
and that the laws of the social life and of the herd are to be
observed there, but as a matter of fact there is nothing whatever
elsewhere in life to compare with what we see taking place in
human society, namely, the gradual integration — still under all
the stress of natural selection expressing its effects in the person
of the individual — of an organic social process resting ultimately
on mind. The laws of this process are necessarily quite different
from the laws of the other and simpler process in operation lower
down in life. If we regard the classes from which sociology as
a science should be able to draw its most efficient recruits we see
that at the present day they fall mainly into two camps. There
are in the one camp the exponents of biological principles, often
trained in one or more of the departments of biological science,
who are attempting the application to human society of the
principles with which they have become familiar elsewhere in
life. There are in the second camp the exponents of various
aspects of social philosophy. When the exponent of Darwinian
principles advances to the study of society he is naturally
strong in the conviction that he has in his hands a most potent
instrument of knowledge which ought to carry him far in the
organization of the social sciences and towards the unification of
the leading principles underlying the facts with which they deal.
But what we soon begin to see is that his training has been, and
that his preoccupation still continues to be, with the facts and
principles of the struggle for existence between individuals as
displayed elsewhere in life. He does not easily realize, if he has
not been trained in social philosophy, how infinitely more com-
plex all the problems of natural selection have become in the
social integration resting on mind which is taking place in human
affairs; or how the social efficiency with which he has become
now concerned is something quite distinct from the individual
SOCIOLOGY
327
efficiency with which he has been concerned elsewhere. He does
not readily comprehend how the institutions which he sees
being evolved in history have, in their effects on the individual,
laws quite different from those which he applies in the breeding
of animals; or how the dualism which has been opened in the
human mind, as natural selection acts first of all on the individual
in his own struggle with his fellows, and then, and to a ruling
degree, acts on his as a member of organic society in the evolution
of social efficiency, has in the religious and ethical systems of
the race a phenomenology of its own, stupendous in extent and
absolutely characteristic of the social process, which remains a
closed book to him and the study of which he is often apt
to consider for his purposes as entirely meaningless. All
this became rapidly visible in the first approach of the early
Darwinians to the science of society.
Darwin, as stated, had attempted no comprehensive or
systematic study of society. But in a few chapters of the Descent
Darwin °f ^an ^e ^ad discussed the qualities of the human
mind, including the social and moral feelings, from
the point of view of the doctrine 'of natural selection enunci-
ated in the Origin of Species. The standpoint he took up
was, as might be expected, practically that of Mill and
Spencer and other writers of the period on social subjects, from
whom he quoted freely. But the note of bewilderment
was remarkable. The conclusion remarked upon as implied in
Spencer's theory of the social organism, but which Spencer
himself hesitated to draw, namely, that natural selection was
to be regarded as suspended in human society, Darwin
practically formulated. Thus at times Darwin appeared to
think that natural selection could effect but comparatively
little in advanced society. " With highly civilized nations,"
he says, " continued progress depends to a subordinate degree
on natural selection." While Darwin noted the obvious useful-
ness of the social and moral qualities in many cases, he felt
constrained at the same time to remark upon their influence
in arresting, as appeared to him, the action of natural selection
in civilization. " We civilized men," he continues, " do
our utmost to check the process of elimination (of the weak
in body and mind) ; we build asylums for the imbeciles, the
maimed and the sick; we institute poor laws; and our medical
men exert their utmost skill to save the life of every one
to the last moment." There is here in evidence no attempt to
connect the phenomena thus brought into view with some wider
principle of the evolutionary process which evidently must
control them. There is no perception visible in Darwin's mind
of these facts as constituting the phenomenology of a larger
principle of natural selection; or of the higher organic efficiency
in the struggle for existence of societies in which the sense of
responsibility to life thus displayed has made most progress;
or of the immense significance in social evolution as distinct
from individual evolution of that deepening of the social con-
sciousness of which this developing spiritual sense of responsi-
bility to our fellow creatures is one of the outward marks
characteristic of advanced societies.
In the year 1889 Alfred Russel Wallace in a statement of his
conception of the doctrine of evolution in his book, Darwinism,
Wallace brought more clearly into view the fundamental
difficulty of the early Darwinians in applying the
doctrine of natural selection to society. In the last chapter of
the book Mr Wallace maintained that there were in " man's
intellectual and moral nature . . . certain definite portions . . .
which could not have been developed by variation and natural
selection alone." Certain faculties, amongst which he classed the
mathematical, artistic and metaphysical, the latter covering
qualities with which he considered priests and philosophers to
be concerned, were, he asserted, " altogether removed from
utility in the struggle for life," and were, therefore, he thought,
" wholly unexplained by the theory of natural selection." In this
elementary conception which still survives in popular literature,
the same confusion between individual efficiency and social
efficiency has to be remarked upon. And there is in evidence
the same failure to perceive that it is just these intellectual and
moral qualities which are the absolutely characteristic products
of natural selection in advanced society, in that they contribute
to the highest organic social efficiency. Wallace in the result
proposed to consider man, in respect of these higher portions
of his mind, as under the influence of some cause or causes
wholly distinct from those which had shaped the development of
life in its other characteristics. The weakness of this position
was immediately apparent. To remove man as regards qualities
so directly associated with his social evolution from the influence
of the law of natural selection was felt to be a step backwards.
The effect produced on the minds of the younger school of
evolutionists was deep. It operated, indeed, not to convince
them that Wallace was right, but to make them feel that his
conception of natural selection operating in human society was
still in some respect profoundly and radically incomplete.
A few years later, Huxley, though approaching the matter
from a different direction, displayed a like bewilderment in
attempting to apply the doctrine of evolution to the „ xle
phenomena of organic society. With his mind fixed on
the details of the individual struggle for existence among animals,
Huxley reached in the Romanes lecture, delivered at Oxford in
1893, a position little different from that in which Wallace found
himself. In this lecture Huxley actually proceeded to place
the ethical process in human society in opposition to the cosmic
process, to which latter alone he considered the struggle for
existence and the principle of natural selection belonged.
" Social progress," he went on to say, " means a checking
of the cosmic process at every step and the substitution for it
of another which may be called the ethical process; the end
of which is not the survival of those who may happen to be
the fittest, in respect of the whole of the conditions which
obtain, but of those who are ethically the best." Thus the
remarkable spectacle already witnessed in Spencer, Darwin
and Wallace of the evolutionist attempting to apply his doctrines
to human society, but having to regard his own central principle
of natural selection as having been suspended therein is repeated
in Huxley. The futility of contemplating the ethical process as
something distinct from the cosmic process was at once apparent.
For the first lesson of evolution as applied to society must
be that they are one and the same. So far indeed from ethical
process checking the cosmic process, it must be regarded as
the last and highest form of the cosmic process. The sense of
subordination and sacrifice which forms the central principle
of all the creeds of humanity, so far from being, as Wallace
imagined, "altogether removed from utility" is, indeed, the
highest form of social efficiency through which natural selection
is producing its most far-reaching effects in the evolution of the
most advanced and organic types of civilization.
A similar tendency continued to be in evidence in other
directions. In an effort made a few years later to found a
society for the study of sociology in Great Britain _ n
a very characteristic feature of the first papers
contributed was the attempt to apply elementary biological
generalizations regarding natural selection to a highly complex
organism like human society, the writers having in most cases
made no previous extensive or special study of the social process
in history. The confusion between what constitutes individual
efficiency in the individual and that higher social efficiency in
the individual which everywhere controls and overrules individual
efficiency was very marked. An early paper contributed in
1904 was by Mr (afterwards Sir) Francis Gallon, one of the
last and greatest of the early Darwinians. Gallon had made
many original contributions to the doctrine of evolution, and
had been occupied previously with researches into individual
efficiency as displayed among families, his Hereditary Genius
being a notable book of this type. The object of his paper was
to explain the scope and aim of a new science, " eugenics,"
which he defined as the science which deals with all the influences
that improve the inborn qualities of the race and develop them
to the utmost advantage. Gallon found no difficulty whatever
in selling up his sociological slandards for the best specimens
of the race. Even the animals in the Zoological Gardens, he
328
SOCIOLOGY
said, might be supposed to know the best specimens of their
class. In society the list of best qualities would include
health, energy, ability, manliness and the special aptitudes
required by various professions and occupations. Everything in
" the scientific breeding of the human race " was to be much
as in the breeding of animals; for Gallon proposed to leave
morals out of the question as involving too many hopeless
difficulties. This was the basis of the scheme of qualities from
which he proposed to proceed to the improved breeding of society.
The proposal furnishes one of the most striking and characteristic
examples which have appeared of the deep-seated confusion
prevailing in the minds of the early Darwinians between social
efficiency and individual efficiency. Even from the few minor
examples of society among the lower animals the true sociological
criticism of such standards in eugenics might easily be supplied.
For at the point at which the social insects, for instance, began
their social integration all their standards were in the qualities
which gave success in the struggle for existence between indi-
viduals. Had they, therefore, understood eugenics only in
this light and in Gallon's sense, they would have condemned
at the first the beginnings of the peculiar social efficiency
of the queen bee which now makes her devote her life entirely
to egg-laying; still more would they have condemned the habils
of the drones, through long persistence in which they have
become degenerate as individuals; and in particular they would
have condemned the habits of the workers which have led to
their present undeveloped bodies and abortive individualistic
instincts. But all these things have contributed in the highest
degree to the social efficiency of the social insects and have made
the type a winning one in evolution. The social integration
of the social insects has been comparatively simple and did not,
like that of human society, rest ultimately on mind, yet even
in this elementary example it was evident what ruin and disaster
would result from miscalled scientific breeding of the race if
undertaken within the limits of such restricted conceptions of
social efficiency. Gallon's preoccupation, as in the case of most
biological and medical schemes of improvement in the past,
was with those individualistic qualities which contribute to the
individual's success in the struggle for existence with his fellows.
But it has been continuously obvious in history that individuals
of the very highest social efficiency, the great organic minds of
the race who, often quite unsuccessful in their lives as judged
by individualistic standards, and who, often quite unperceived
and unappreciated by their contemporaries, have been the
authors of ideas, or moral conceptions or works of such organic
importance that they have carried the race from one social
horizon into another, have been just those individuals who
would have entirely failed to pass the kind of prize-animal
standards which Gallon proposed to set up.
Gallon's essay may be said lo close that firsl epoch in
the applicalion of biological conceptions to sociology which
The ci s °Pene(i with Spencer's essay in 1860. With the
of the First extending conception of the organic interesls of
Stage of sociely during the intervening period the idea of
Darwinian socjai efficiency had altered profoundly. For instance,
a supposed standard of efficiency, which like Malthu-
sianism represenled to Mill at the opening of the period Ihe last
conclusion of science, had become towards the close scarcely
more than a slandard of " race suicide." Il was nol surprising
that in these circumslances Ihe represenlalives of Ihose sciences
which resled on a knowledge of Ihe social process in hislory and
philosophy conlinued lo look coldly on Ihe altempt of the first
Darwinians lo apply Darwinian principles lo sociology. True,
Ihe developmenl in Iheir own sciences had been almosl equally
slerile, for Ihey had Ihemselves as yel no reasoned conception
of the enormous importance of the Darwinian principle of
evolution to these sciences in its capacity lo reveal lo Ihem
the dynamics of Ihe social process. Bui Ihey had walched Ihe
developmenl of inslilulions in hislory; Ihey had sludied Ihe
growlh of social lypes and Ihe inlegralion of great systems of
belief; and Ihey had slruggled with the capital problems of Ihe
human mind in psychology and philosophy as Ihe process had
conlinued. The Iwo armies of workers conlinued to be
organized into isolated camps, each with the mosl reslricted
conception of the nalure and imporlance of Ihe work done
by Ihe olher and of ils bearing upon Iheir own conclusions.
One of Ihe mosl remarkable resulls of such a silualion — a resull
plainly visible in Ihe valuable colleclion of essays edited by Pro-
fessor Seward which was issued from Ihe Cambridge University
Press in commemoration of the centenary of Darwin's birth — is
the extremely limited number of minds in our time of sufficienl
scope of view lo be able lo cover Ihe relation of the work of both
sets of these workers to sociology.
It remains now to consider the relation to the position in
modern sociology of the extended conception lhat sociely must
be considered to be organic in some wider sense
than the first Darwinians thus imagined it and also e"2ns/on
in some wider sense lhan lhal in which Sidgwick to Sociology
imagined il when he said lhal sociology was in effecl otthe Bv°-
coincidenl wilh Ihe science of polilics. The present coated/on
writer has laid il down elsewhere ( The Two Principal
Laws of Sociology: Bologna) lhal Ihere is a fundamental principle
of sociology which has to be grasped and applied before there
can be any real science of sociology. This principle may be
briefly staled as follows: —
The social process is primarily evolving in the individual not
the qualities which contribule lo his own efficiency in conflict
with his fellows, but the qualities which contribule lo society's
efficiency in Ihe conflicl Ihrough which il is gradually rising
lowards a more organic lype.
This is Ihe firsl law of evolulionary sociology. Il is Ihis
principle which conlrols Ihe inlegration which is taking place
under all forms in human society — in ethical systems, in all
polilical and economic inslilulions, and in Ihe creeds and
beliefs of humanity — in the long, slow, almosl invisible slruggle
in which under a mullilude of phases nalural seleclion is
discriminating between the standards of nalions and lypes of
civilizalion.
Dealing first with political and economic instilutions; the
position reached in Spencer's sociology may be said to represent
the science of sociely in a slale of Iransilion. It represents it,
that is to say, in a stage al which Ihe Greek Iheory of sociely
has become influenced by Ihe doclrine of evolulion applied lo
modern conceplions, bul while as yel no synlhesis has been
achieved between the conflicting and even mutually exclusive
ideas which are involved. The Greek theory of society is repre-
sented in Spencer in his practical idenlification of " the social
organism " with Ihe Slale. The modern idea, however, which
carries Spencer far beyond Ihe principles of Greek sociely —
as these principles were summarized, for instance, in the passage
already quoled from Blunlschli — is clearly in evidence. It
may be observed to be expressed in the recognition of a principle
resident in modern society which in some manner projects the
individual's righls oulside and beyond Ihe whole Iheory and
meaning of Ihe Slale. In olher words, in sociely as Spencer
conceives il, " Ihe welfare of cilizens cannol righlly be sacrificed
10 some supposed benefil of Ihe Slale "; whereas, according to
the Greek Iheory and the theory of Roman law, the citizen's
whole existence depended on and was subject to the Stale. " The
Slale knew neilher moral nor legal limils to its power." If,
iowever, it be considered thai modern sociely has made progress
Deyond Ihe Greek, and if il be accepled lhal Ihe Iheory of
evolulion involves Ihe conclusion lhat sociely progresses
;owards increased efficiency in a more organic lype, Ihere follows
:rom Ihe foregoing an imporlant inference. This is thai il now
jecomes Ihe lask of modern sociology, as a Irue science, to
show thai Ihe principle in modern civilizalion which dislinguishes
11 from sociely of Ihe Greek period — namely, that principle which
Spencer rightly recognized, despite the contradiclions in which
le became involved, as rendering Ihe life of the individual no
onger subservient to the corporate life of the State — is ilself a
arinciple idenlified not with individualism but with the increasing
subordination of Ihe individual lo a more organic lype of sociely.
Il musl, in shorl, remain for the evolutionisl, working by Ihe
SOCIOLOGY
329
historical method scientifically applied, to present the interven-
ing process in history — including the whole modern movement
towards liberty and enfranchisement, and towards equality
of conditions, of rights and of economic opportunities — not
as a process of the increasing emancipation of the individual
from the claims of society, but as a process of progress towards
a more organic stage ot social subordination than has prevailed
in the world before.
When society is considered as an organism developing under
the influence of natural selection along the line of the causes
which contribute to its highest potential efficiency, and there-
fore tending to have the mean centre of its organic processes
projected farther and farther into the future, it is evident that it
must be the principles and ideas which most effectively subordi-
nate oyer long periods of time the interests and the capacities
of the individuals of which it is composed to the efficiency of
the whole which will play the leading part in social evolution.
In primitive society, the first rudiments of social organization
undoubtedly arose, not so much from conscious regard to
The Basis expediency or "increased satisfactions" as from
ot Modern fitness in the struggle for existence. " The first
Sociology. organized societies must have been developed, like
any other advantage, under the sternest conditions of natural
selection. In the flux and change of life the members of those
groups of men which in favourable conditions first showed any
tendency to social organization became possessed of a great
advantage over their fellows, and these societies grew up simply
because they possessed elements of -strength which led to the
disappearance before them of other groups of men with which
they came into competition. Such societies continued to flourish,
until they in their turn had to give way before other associations
of men of higher social efficiency " (Social Evolution, ii.). In
the social process at this stage all the customs, habits, institu-
tions, and beliefs contributing to produce a higher organic
efficiency of society would be naturally selected, developed and
perpetuated. It is in connexion with this fact that the clue
must be sought to the evolution of those institutions and beliefs
of early society which have been treated of at length in researches
like those of M'Lennan, Tylor, Lubbock, Waitz. Letourneau,
Quatrefages, Frazer, and others of equal importance. For a
long period in the first stages the highest potentiality of the
social organization would be closely associated with military
efficiency. For hi the evolution of the social organism, as has
been said, while the mean centre of the processes involving its
organic identity would tend to be projected into the future, it
would at the same time always be necessary to maintain efficiency
in current environment in competition with rival types of lower
future potentiality. Amongst primitive peoples, where a great
chief, law-giver and military leader appeared, the efficiency of
organized society resting on military efficiency would, as a matter
of course, make itself felt in the struggle for existence. Yet as
such societies would often be resolved into their component
elements on the death of the leader, the overruling importance —
on the next stage of the advance towards a more organic type
— of ideas which would permanently subordinate the materials
of society to the efficiency of the whole would make itself felt.
Social systems of the type in which authority was perpetuated
by ancestor-worship — in which all the members were therefore
held to be joined in an exclusive religious citizenship founded on
blood relationship to the deities who were worshipped, and in
which all outsiders were accordingly treated as natural enemies,
whom it would be a kind of sacrilege to admit to the rights of
the State — would contain the elements of the highest military
potentiality. The universal mark which ancestor-worship has
left on human institutions in a certain stage of social develop-
ment is doubtless closely associated with this fact. The new
and th<> older tendencies in sociology are here also in contrast;
for whereas Herbert Spencer has been content to explain
ancestor-worship as arising from an introspective and compara-
tively trivial process of thought assumed to have taken place
in the mind of early man in relation to a supposed beh'ef in ghosts
(Principles of Sociology, 68-207), the newer tendency is to
consider science as concerned with it in its relation to the character-
istic principles through which the efficiency of the social organ-
ization expressed itself in its surroundings. The social, political
and religious institutions disclosed in the study of the earliest
civilizations within the purview of history must be considered
to be all intimately related to the ruling principles of this military
stage. The wide reach and significance of the causes governing
the process of social evolution throughout the whole of this
period may be gathered from treatises like Seebohm's Structure
of Greek Tribal Society, Maine's Ancient Law, History of Institu-
tions, and Early Law and Custom, Fowler's City-State of the Greeks
and Romans, and in a special sense from the comparative study
of Roman law, first of all as it is presented in the period of the
Twelve Tables, then as the jus civile begins to be influenced by
the jus gentium, and lastly as its principles are contrasted with
those of English common law in the modern period. In most
of the philosophical writings of the Greeks, and in particular
in the Ethics and Politics of Aristotle, and in many of the
Dialogues of Plato, the spirit of the principles upon which society
was constructed in this stage may be perceived as soon as
progress has been made with comparative studies in other
directions.
A very pregnant saying of T. H. Green was that during the
whole development of man the command, " Thou shall love
thy neighbour as thyself " has never varied. What ^tension of
has varied is only the answer to the question — Who the Sense of
is my neighbour ? If in the light of this profoundly Human Re-
true reflection we watch the progress of society from spoasl lty-
primitive conditions to the higher stages, it may be observed
to possess marked features. Where all human institutions,
as in the ancient civilizations, rested ultimately on force; where
outsiders were regarded as natural enemies, and conquered
enemies became slaves; where, as throughout all this phase of
social evolution, a rule of religion was a rule of law identified with
the principles of the State (Maine, Ancient Law); where the
State itself was absolute as against the individual, knowing
"neither moral nor legal limits to its power"; and where all
the moral, intellectual and industrial life of the community
rested on a basis of slavery — the full limits of the organic
principle of social efficiency would in time be reached. The
conditions would be inherent in which all social institutions
would tend to become closed absolutisms organized round the
conception of men's desires in the present. And the highest
outward expression in which the tendencies in ethics, in politics,
and in religion must necessarily culminate would be the military
State, bounded in its energies only by the resistance of others,
necessarily acknowledging no complete end short of absolute
dominion, and therefore staying its course before no ideal short
of universal conquest. This was the condition in the ancient
State. It happened thus that the outward policy of the ancient
State to other peoples became, by a fundamental principle of
its life, a policy of military conquest and subjugation, the
only limiting principle being the successful resistance of the
others. The epoch of history moved by inherent forces towards
the final emergence of one supreme military State, in an era of
general conquest, and culminated in the example of universal
dominion which we had in the Roman world before the rise of the
civilization of our era.
The influence upon the development of civilization of the wider
conception of duty and responsibility to one's fellow men which
was introduced into the world with the spread of KS intlu-
Christianity can hardly be over-estimated. The em* on
extended conception of the answer to the question — s^al Bta-
Who is my neighbour? which has resulted from theceacy'
characteristic doctrines of the Christian religion — a con-
ception transcending all the claims of the family, group, state,
nation, people or race, and even all the interests comprised in
any existing order of society — has been the most powerful evolu-
tionary force which has ever acted on society. It has tended
gradually to break up the absolutisms inherited from an older
civilization and to bring into being, an entirely new type of
social efficiency.
330
SOCIOLOGY
As society under this influence continued to be impelled to
develop towards a still more organic type, the greatly higher
la History potentiality of a state of social order which, while
p*fcte*e<* preserving the ideal of the highly organized state
(lathe"* an<^ l^e curfent efficiency of society in competition
Future) has with lower types, was influenced by conceptions
always that dissolved all those closed absolutisms, and re-
restedoa leased human energies into a free conflict of forces
Military , • ,• ,1 • • i p * .1.1.
Efficiency by projecting the principles of human responsibility
(lathe outside the State, became apparent. In many of
Present), the religions of the East such conceptions have been
inherent, Christianity itself being a characteristically Eastern
religion. But no Eastern people has been able to provide for
them the permanent defensive military milieu in history in
which alone their potentiality could be realized. The significance
of modern Japan in evolution consists largely in the answer she
is able to give to the question as to whether she will be able to
provide in the future such a milieu for such a conception among
an Eastern people.
The significance of the culmination of the military epoch in
the ancient classic civilizations of the Western world, which
preceded the opening of the era in which we are living, and of the
fact that the peoples of the same descent who were destined to
carry on the civilization of the existing era represent the supreme
military stock by natural selection, not only of the entire world,
but of the evolutionary process itself in human history, will
therefore be evident.
With the spread, accordingly, amongst peoples of this origin,
and in such a defensive military milieu in history, of a new
Tae conviction of responsibility to principles extending
Principle of beyond the consciousness of the political State,
efficiency la there began a further and more organic stage of
2?.°*"*,. the evolutionary process in society. The gradual
Civilization ,. . . . ./ ... * .. . e ,
Is the dissolution in the era in which we are living of all
Enfranchise- the closed absolutisms within the State, in which
meat of the human action and ideas had hitherto been confined,
Puture- is apparently the characteristic phenomenon of this
stage. Progress is towards such a free and tolerant, but
intense and efficient, conflict of forces as was not possible
in the world before. It is, it would appear, in this light
that we must regard the slow dissolution of the basis of
ideas upon which slavery rested; the disintegration of the con-
ceptions which supported the absolute position of the occupying
classes in the State; the undermining of the ideas by which
opinion was supported by the civil power of the State in the
religious struggles of the middle ages; the growth of the concep-
tion that no power or opinion in the State can be considered
as the representative of absolute truth; the consequent develop-
ment of party government amongst the advanced peoples, with
the acknowledgment of the right of every department of inquiry
to carry results up to that utmost limit at which they are con-
trolled only by the results obtained in other departments of
activity with equal freedom; the growth of the conception,
otherwise absurd, of the native equality of men; the resulting
claim, otherwise similarly indefensible, of men to equal voting
power irrespective of status or possessions in the State which
has been behind the movement towards political enfranchise-
ment; and, finally, the development of that conviction which
is behind the existing challenge to all absolute tendencies in
economic conditions in the modern world — namely, that the
distribution of wealth in a well-ordered State should aim at
realizing political justice. There are all the features of an
integrating process in modern history. They must be considered
as all related to a controlling principle inherent in the Christian
religion which has rendered the evolutionary process in society
more organic than in any past stage — namely, the projection of
the sense of human responsibility outside the limits of all the
creeds and interests which had in previous stages embodied it in
the State (Kidd, Prin. West. Civil.). The meaning, in short,
which differentiates our civilization from that of the ancient
civilizations of Greece and Rome is that modern Western
civilization represents in an ever-increasing degree the
enfranchisement of the future in the evolutionary process. So
great has become the prestige of our civilization through the oper-
ation of this principle in it that its methods and results are being
eagerly borrowed by other peoples. It is thereby so materially
influencing the standards of conduct and culture thoughout
the world that the developments which other nations are under-
going have in a real sense tended to become scarcely more than
incidents in the expansion of Western civilization.
We live in the presence of colossal national armaments, and
in a world, therefore, in which we are continually met with the
taunt that force is still everywhere omnipotent. It Modem
j may be perceived, however, that beneath all outward Militarism
I appearances a vast change has been taking place. lsthereforf
In the ancient civilizations the tendency to con- otfensfre,"
quest was an inherent principle in life of the military not an
State. It is no longer an inherent principle in the Offensive
modern State. The right of conquest is indeed still Priaclale-
acknowledged in the international law of civilized States; but
it may be observed to be a right becoming more and more im-
practicable among the more advanced peoples. Reflection, more-
over, reveals the fact that the right of conquest is tending to
become impracticable and impossible, not, as is often supposed,
because of the huge armaments of resistance with which it might
be opposed, but because the sense of social responsibility has
been so deepened in our civilization that it is almost impossible
that one nation should attempt to conquer and subdue another
after the manner of the ancient world. It would be regarded
as so great an outrage that it would undoubtedly prove to be one
of the maddest and one of the most unprofitable adventures
in which a civilized State could engage. Militarism, it may be
distinguished, is becoming mainly defensive amongst the more
advanced nations. Like the civil power within the State, it is
tending to represent rather the organized means of resistance
to the methods of force should these methods be invoked by
others temporarily or permanently under the influence of less
evolved standards of conduct.
In thus regarding the social process in Western history, the
projected efficiency of which now, after many centuries of
development, begins to realize itself to an increasing InaMa
degree in determining competition with other types ism ls "*jy a
of society throughout the world, it may be observed Process ot
that the result by which a synthesis of the older moreOrganlc
and later views may be attained is already mo^toa«oo"
sight. It was pointed out that if the principle which
Spencer rightly recognized in modern society as rendering the
life of the individual no longer subservient to the corporate
life of the State was to be accepted as a principle of progress
distinguishing modern civilization from that of the Greek period,
it would be necessary for the sociologist to exhibit it not as
indicating the larger independence of the individual, but as a
principle identified with the increasing subordination of the indi-
vidual to a more organic type of society. Here, therefore, this
result is in process of accomplishment . The intervening process in
history — including the whole modern movement towards liberty
and enfranchisement, towards equality of conditions, towards
equality of political rights and towards equality of economic
opportunities — -is presented as a process of development towards
a more advanced and organic stage of social subordination
than has ever prevailed in the world before (Princ. West.
Civil, xi.). In this light, also, it may be observed how the
claim of sociology to be the most advanced of all the theo-
retical sciences is justified. For if the historical process in the
civilization of the era in which we are living is thus to be
regarded as a process implying the increasing subordination of
the individual to a more organic type of society, then the study
of sociology as embracing the principles of the process must
evidently involve the perception and comparison of the meaning
of the fundamental positions disclosed in the history of political
progress, of the problems with which the human mind has
successively struggled in the phases of religious development,
and, lastly, of the positions with which the intellect has been
confronted as the stages of the subordinating process have
SOCRATES
gradually come to define themselves in history. The positions
outlined in the developments already referred to which have
come down through Humeund Huxley, through Kant and Hegel,
through Grotius and Savigny, through Roscher and Schmoller,
through the expression which English utilitarianism has reached
in Herbert Spencer as influenced by the English theory of the
rights of the individual on the one hand, and in Marxian Socialism
as influenced by the Latin conception of the omnipotence of
the State on the other, have thus all their place, meaning and
scientific relations in the modern study of sociology. It must
be considered that the theory of organic evolution by natural
selection and the historical method will continue in an increasing
degree to influence the science of society.
The sociological law that " the social process is primarily
evolving in the individual not the qualities which contribute
The Claim of t° n^s own efficiency in conflict with his fellows,
Sociology as but those qualities which contribute to society's
the Master efficiency in the conflict through which it is gradually
rising towards a more organic type," carries us
into the innermost recesses of the human mind and controls
the science of psychology. For it is thus not the human mind
which is consciously constructing the social process in evolution ;
it is the social process which is constructing the human mind
in evolution. This is the ultimate fact which raises sociology
to its true position as the master science. Nor is there any
materialism in such a conception. It is in keeping with the
highest spiritual ideal of man that the only conception of Truth
or the Absolute which the human mind can hold at present
is that which is being evolved in it in relation to its own
environment which is in the social process.
AUTHORITIES. — It has been one of the results of the conditions
affecting sociology in the past, that many of the principal contribu-
tions to the science of society are not usually included in lists of
sociological references. The following are mentioned only as indi-
cating or suggesting others in the same classes of equal or perhaps
greater importance. The dates given are usually those of the first
edition of a work.
INTRODUCTORY. — Darwin, Origin of Species (1859); Descent of
Man, 1871 (chapters dealing with society); Wallace, Darwinism
(1889); Romanes, Darwin and after Darwin (1892); Osborn, From
the Greeks to Darwin (1894). Economics, Historical. — Ashley,
Introduction to English Economic History and Theory, part i. (1888),
part ii. (1893); Schmoller, The Mercantile System (1884); Roscher,
Geschichte der Nationals konomik in Deutschland (1874) ; Nys, History
of Economics (Trans. Dryhurst, 1899). Ethics, Historical.— Sidgwick,
History of Ethics (1886); Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics (1893);
Hobhouse, Morals in Evolution (1906). Primitive Society. —
Lubbock, Origin of Civilization (1870); Tylor, Anthropology (1881);
Quatrefages, Human Species (Eng. trans. 1879); Lang, Custom and
Myth (1884); Maine, Ancient Law (1861); Early History of Institu-
tions (1875); Early Law and Custom (1883); Frazer, Golden Bough
(1890) ; Early History of the Kingship (1905).
GENERAL. — Spencer, Synthetic Philosophy (Principles of Biology,
Principles of Sociology and Principles of Ethics) ; Kidd, Social
Evolution (1894); Principles of Western Civilization (1902); Individu-
alism and After ; Two Principal Laws of Sociology: Bologna (1908) ;
Barth, Die Philosophie der Geschichte als Sociologie (1897); Ward,
Dynamic Sociology; Outlines of Sociology (1898); Flint, Philosophy
of History in Europe (1874) ; Historical Philosophy in France (1894) ;
Bagehot, Physics and Politics; Ratzenhofer, Die soziologische
Erkennlnis (1898); Giddings, Principles of Sociology (1896); Tarde,
Elude de psychologie sociale (1898); Stuckenberg, Introduction to the
Study of Sociology (1898); Stephen, The English Utilitarians (1900);
J. S. Mill, System of Logic (1843); On Liberty (1859); Utilitarianism
(1861); Comte, Philosophie positive^ (6 vols., 1830-1842, Eng.
trans., condensed by Martineau, in 2 vols. ; Baldwin, Social
Psychology; Ritchie, Natural Rights (1895); Bluntschli, The Theory
of the State (Eng. trans. 1892) ; Wright, Outline of Practical Sociology
(1899); Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics (1874); Elements of Politics
(1901) ; Philosophy, Us Scope (1902) ; Taylor, The Problem of Conduct
(1901); Kant, Critique of Pure Reason (particularly 2nd Division),
and Prolegomena to any Future Metaphysic; McDougall, An Intro-
duction to Social Psychology (1908); Schiller, Studies in Humanism
(1907); James, Pragmatism (1907); Fairbanks, Introduction to
Sociology (1896); Pollock, History of the Science of Politics (1890);
Maine, Popular Government (1885); Morley, Rousseau (1873);
Diderot and the Encyclopaedists (1878) ; Burke (1879) ; Austin, Theory
of Jurisprudence (1861-1863); Holland, Elements of Jurisprudence
(parts i., iit. and iy., 1880); Studies in International Law (1898);
Westlake, International Law (1894); Bentham, Principles of Morals
and Legislation (1789), Oxf. ed., 1879; Sohm, Institutes of Roman
Law; Sandars, Institutes of Justinian; Le Roy Beaulieu, L'Etat
moderne et ses fonctions; Huxley, Evolution and Ethics (1894);
Nietzsche, The Twilight of the Idols; Zarathustra; Loria, Les Bases
economiques de la constitution sociale (French trans.); Pearson,
National Life and Character (1893); Vincent, The Social Mind in
Education (1897); Marx, Kapital (1867, Eng. trans. 1887); Engels,
Socialism, Utopian and Scientific (Eng. trans., Aveling, 1892);
Kirkup, An Inquiry into Socialism (1907); George, Progress and
Poverty; Mazel, La Synergie sociale (1896); Mallock, Aristocracy and
Evolution (1898); Ross, Social Control (1901); Mackenzie, Social
Philosophy (1895); Hpbson, The Social Problem (1901); Fabian
Essays; Rousseau, Social Contract; Hobbes, Leviathan; Locke, Two
Treatises of Government; Webbs, Industrial Democracy (1897);
History of Trades Unionism (1894); Booth, Life and Labour of the
People (1891-1897) ; Patten, The Theory of Prosperity (1902) ; Wallas,
Human Nature in Politics (1908) ; Urwick, Luxury and Waste (1908) ;
Small, The Scope of Sociology (1902). (B. K.*)
SOCRATES, son of the statuary Sophroniscus and of the
midwife Phaenarete, was born at Athens, not earlier than 47 1
nor later than May or June 469 B.C. As a youth he received
the customary instruction in gymnastics and music; and in after
years he made himself acquainted with geometry and astronomy
and studied the methods and the doctrines of the leaders of
Greek thought and culture. He began life as a sculptor; and
in the 2nd century A.D. a group of the Graces, supposed to be
his work, was still to be seen on the road to the Acropolis. But
he soon abandoned art and gave himself to what may best be
called education, conceiving that he had a divine commission,
witnessed by oracles, dreams and signs, not indeed to teach any
positive doctrine, but to convict men of ignorance mistaking
itself for knowledge, and by so doing to promote their intellectual
and moral improvement. He was. on terms of intimacy with
some of the most distinguished of his Athenian contemporaries,
and, at any rate in later life, was personally known to very many
of his fellow citizens. His domestic relations were, it is said,
unhappy. The shrewishness of his wife Xanthippe became
proverbial with the ancients, as it still is with ourselves. Ari-
stotle, in his remarks upon genius and its degeneracy (Rhet. ii.
15), speaks of Socrates's sons as dull and fatuous; and in Xeno-
phon's Memorabilia, one of them, Lamprocles, receives a formal
rebuke for undutiful behaviour towards his mother.
Socrates served as a hoplite at Potidaea (432-429), where
on one occasion he saved the life of Alcibiades, at Delium (424),
and at Amphipolis (422). In these campaigns his bravery and
endurance were conspicuous. But, while he thus performed the
ordinary duties of a Greek citizen with credit, he neither attained
nor sought political position. His " divine voice," he said,
had warned him to refrain from politics, presumably because
office would have entailed the sacrifice of his principles and the
abandonment of his proper vocation. Yet in 406 he was a
member of the senate; and on the first day of the trial of the
victors of Arginusae, being president of the prytanis, he resisted
— first, in conjunction with his colleagues, afterwards, when they
yielded, alone — the illegal and unconstitutional proposal of
Callixenus, that the fate of the eight generals should be decided
by a single vote of the assembly. Not less courageous than this
opposition to the " civium ardor prava jubentium " was his
disregard of the " vultus instantis tyranni " two years later.
During the reign of terror of 404 the Thirty, anxious to implicate
in their crimes men of repute who might otherwise have opposed
their plans, ordered five citizens, one of whom was Socrates, to
go to Salamis and bring thence their destined victim Leon.
Socrates alone disobeyed. But, though he was exceptionally
obnoxious to the Thirty — as appears, not only in this incident,
but also in their threat of punishment under a special ordinance
forbidding " the teaching of the art of argument"— it was
reserved for the reconstituted democracy to bring him to trial
and to put him to death. In 399, four years after the restoration
and the amnesty, he was indicted as an offender against public
morality. His accusers were Meletus the poet, Anytus the tanner
and Lycon the orator, all of them members of the democratic
or patriot party who had returned from Phyle with Thrasybulus.
The accusation ran thus: " Socrates is guilty, firstly, of denying
the gods recognized by the state and introducing new divinities,
and, secondly, of corrupting the young." In his unpremeditated
defence, so far from seeking to conciliate his judges, Socrates
332
SOCRATES
defied them. He was found guilty by 280 votes, it is supposed,
against 220. Meletus having called for capital punishment, it
now rested with the accused to make a counter-proposition;
and there can be little doubt that, had Socrates without further
remark suggested some smaller but yet substantial penalty,
the proposal would have been accepted. But, to the amazement
of the judges and the distress of his friends, Socrates proudly
declared that for the services which he had rendered to the city
he deserved, not punishment, but the reward of a public bene-
factor— maintenance in the Prytaneum at the cost of the state;
and, although at the close of his speech he professed himself
willing to pay a fine of one mina, and upon the urgent entreaties
of his friends raised the amount of his offer to thirty minas, he
made no attempt to disguise his indifference to the result. His
attitude exasperated the judges, and the penalty of death was
decreed by an increased majority. Then in a short address
Socrates declared his contentment with his own conduct and
with the sentence. Whether death was a dreamless sleep, or a
new life in Hades, where he would have opportunities of testing
the wisdom of the heroes and the sages of antiquity, in either
case he esteemed it a gain to die. In the same spirit he refused
to take advantage of a scheme arranged by his friend Crito for
an escape from prison. Under ordinary circumstances the
condemned criminal drank the cup of hemlock on the day after
the trial; but in the case of Socrates the rule that during the
absence of the sacred ship sent annually to Delos no one should
be put to death caused an exceptional delay. For thirty days
he remained in imprisonment, receiving his intimates and
conversing with them in his accustomed manner. How in his
last conversation he argued that the wise man will regard
approaching death with a cheerful confidence Plato relates in the
Phaedo; and, while the central argument — which rests the
doctrine of the soul's immortality upon the theory of ideas —
must be accounted Platonic, in all other respects the narrative,
though not that of an eye-witness, has the air of accuracy and
truth.
Happily, though Socrates left no writings behind him, and indeed,
as will hereafter appear, was by his principles precluded from
dogmatic exposition, we have in the 'Aironvrifu»>tinaTa. or Memoirs
and other works of Xenophon records of Socrates's conversation,
and in the dialogues of Plato refined applications of his method.
Xenophon, having no philosophical views of his own to develop,
and no imagination to lead him astray — being, in fact, to Socrates
what Boswell was to Johnson — is an excellent witness. The
'^oiin]iJ.ovtiiiJ.a.Ta or Memorabilia are indeed confessedly apolo-
getic, and it is easy to see that nothing is introduced which might
embitter those who, hating Socrates, were ready to persecute the
Socratics; but the plain, straightforward narrative of Socrates's
talk, on many occasions, with many dissimilar interlocutors, carries
with it in its simplicity and congruity the evidence of substantial
justice and truth. Plato, though he understood his master better,
is a less trustworthy authority, as he makes Socrates the mouthpiece
of his own more advanced and even antagonistic doctrine. Yet
to all appearance the Apology is a careful and exact account of
Socrates's habits and principles of action; the earlier dialogues,
those which are commonly called " Socratic," represent, with such
changes only as are necessitated by their form, Socrates's method ;
and, if in the later and more important dialogues the doctrine is
the doctrine of Plato, echoes of the master's teaching are still
discoverable, approving themselves as such by their accord with the
Xenophontean testimony. In the face of these two principal
witnesses other evidence is of small importance.
Personal Characteristics. — What, then, were the personal
characteristics of the man? Outwardly his presence was
mean and his countenance grotesque. Short of stature, thick-
necked and somewhat corpulent, with prominent eyes, with
nose upturned and nostrils outspread, with large mouth and coarse
lips, he seemed the embodiment of sensuality and even stupidity.
Inwardly he was, as his friends knew, " so pious that he did
nothing without taking counsel of the gods, so just that he never
did an injury to any man, whilst he was the benefactor of his
associates, so temperate that he never preferred pleasure to
right, so wise that in judging of good and evil he was never at
fault — in a word, the best and the happiest of men." " His
self-control was absolute ; his powers of endurance were unfailing;
he had so schooled himself to moderation that his scanty means
satisfied all his wants." " To want nothing," he said himself,
" is divine; to want as little as possible is the nearest possible
approach to the divine life "; and accordingly he practised
temperance and self-denial to a degree which some thought
ostentatious and affected. Yet the hearty enjoyment of social
pleasures was another of his marked characteristics; for to
abstain from innocent gratification from fear of falling into
excess would have seemed to him to imply a pedantic formalism
or a lack of self-control. In short, his strength of will, if by
its very perfection it led to his theoretical identification of virtue
and knowledge, secured him in practice against the ascetic
extravagances of his associate Antisthenes.
The intellectual gifts of Socrates were hardly less remarkable
than his moral virtues. Naturally observant, acute, and
thoughtful, he developed these qualities by constant and
systematic use. The exercise of the mental powers was, he
conceived, no mere occupation of leisure hours, but rather a
sacred and ever-present duty; because, moral error being intel-
lectual error translated into act, he who would live virtuously
must first rid himself of ignorance and folly. He had, it may
be conjectured, but little turn for philosophical speculation;
yet by the careful study of the ethical problems which met him
in himself and in others he acquired a remarkable tact in dealing
with questions of practical morality; and in the course of the
lifelong war which he waged against vagueness of thought and
laxity of speech he made himself a singularly apt and ready
reasoner.
While he regarded the improvement, not only of himself but
also of others, as a task divinely appointed to him, there was
in his demeanour nothing exclusive or pharisaical. On the
contrary, deeply conscious of his own limitations and infirmities,
he felt and cherished a profound sympathy with erring humanity,
and loved with a love passing the love of women fellow men
who had not learnt, as he had done, to overcome human frailties
and weaknesses. Nevertheless great wrongs roused in him a
righteous indignation which sometimes found expression in
fierce and angry rebuke. Indeed it would seem that Plato in
his idealized portrait gives his hero credit not only for a deeper
philosophical insight but also for a greater urbanity than facts
warranted. Hence, whilst those who knew him best met his
affection with a regard equal to his own, there were, as will be
seen hereafter, some who never forgave his stern reproofs, and
many who regarded him as an impertinent busybody.
He was a true patriot. Deeply sensible of his debt to the city
in which he had been born and bred, he thought that in giving
his life to the teaching of sounder views in regard to ethical
and political subjects he made no more than an imperfect return;
and, when in the exercise of constitutional authority that city
brought him to trial and threatened him with death, it was not
so much his local attachment, strong though that sentiment
was, as rather his sense of duty, which forbade him to retire
into exile before the trial began, to acquiesce in a sentence of
banishment when the verdict had been given against him, and
to accept the opportunity of escape which was offered him during
his imprisonment. Yet his patriotism had none of the narrow-
ness which was characteristic of the patriotism of his Greek con-
temporaries. His generous benevolence and unaffected philan-
thropy taught him to overstep the limits of the Athenian demus
and the Hellenic race, and to regard himself as a " citizen of
the world."
He was blest with an all-pervading humour, a subtle but
kindly appreciation of the incongruities of human nature and
conduct. In a less robust character this quality might have
degenerated into sentimentality or cynicism; in Socrates, who
had not a trace of either, it showed itself principally in what his
contemporaries knew as his " accustomed irony." Profoundly
sensible of the inconsistencies of his own thoughts and words
and actions, and shrewdly suspecting that the like inconsistencies
were to be found in other men, he was careful always to place
himself upon the standpoint of ignorance and to invite others
to join him there, in order that, proving all things, he and they
might hold fast that which is good. " Intellectually the
acutest man of his age," says W. H. Thompson in a brilliant
SOCRATES
333
and instructive appendix to his edition of Plato's Phaedrus,
" he represents himself in all companies as the dullest person
present. Morally the purest, he affects to be the slave of passion,
and borrows the language of gallantry to describe a benevolence
too exalted for the comprehension of his contemporaries. He
is by turns an tpacrnfa, a wpoayiaybs, a ^oorpoTros, a juoteimmfc,
disguising the sanctity of his true vocation by names suggestive
of vile or ridiculous images. The same spirit of whimsical
paradox leads him, in Xenophon's Banquet, to argue that his
own satyr-like visage was superior in beauty to that of the hand-
somest man present. That this irony was to some extent
calculated is more than probable; it disarmed ridicule by antici-
pating it; it allayed jealousy and propitiated envy; and it
possibly procured him admission into gay circles from which
a more solemn teacher would have been excluded. But it had
for its basis a real greatness of soul, a hearty and unaffected
disregard of public opinion, a perfect disinterestedness, an entire
abnegation of self. He made himself a fool that others by his
folly might be made wise; he humbled himself to the level of
those among whom his work lay that he might raise some few
among them to his own level; he was 'all things to all men, if
by any means he might win- some.' " It would seem that this
humorous depreciation of his own great qualities, this pretence
of being no better than his neighbours, led to grave misappre-
hension amongst his contemporaries. That it was the founda-
tion of the slanders of the Peripatetic Aristoxenus can hardly
be doubted.
Socrates was further a man of sincere and fervent piety.
" No one," says Xenophon, " ever knew of his doing or saying
anything profane or unholy." There was indeed in the popular
mythology much which he could not accept. It was incredible,
he argued, that the gods should have committed acts which
would be disgraceful in the worst of men. Such stories, then,
must be regarded as the inventions of lying poets. But, when
he had thus purified the contemporary polytheism, he was able
to reconcile it with his own steadfast belief in a Supreme Being,
the intelligent and beneficent Creator of the universe, and to
find in the national ritual the means of satisfying his religious
aspirations. For proof of the existence of " the divine," he
appealed to the providential arrangement of nature, to the uni-
versality of the belief, and to the revelations and warnings which
are given to men through signs and oracles. Thinking that
the soul of man partook of the divine, he maintained the doctrine
of its immortality as an article of faith, but not of knowledge.
While he held that, the gods alone knowing what is for man's
benefit, man should pray, not for particular goods, but only
for that which is good, he was regular in prayer and punctual
in sacrifice. He looked to oracles and signs for guidance in
those matters, and in those matters only, which could not be
resolved by experience and judgment, and he further supposed
himself to receive special warnings of a mantic character through
what he called his "divine sign" (5a.LiJ.6viov, Saifioviov
Socrates's frequent references to his " divine sign " were, says
Xenophon, the origin of the charge of " introducing new divinities "
brought against him by his accusers, and in early Christian times,
amongst Neoplatonic philosophers and fathers of the church, gave
rise to the notion that he supposed himself to be attended by a
" genius " or " daemon." Similarly in our own day spiritualists
have attributed to him the belief — which they justify — in " an
intelligent spiritual being who accompanied him through life — in
other words, a guardian spirit " (A. R. Wallace). But the very pre-
cise testimony of Xenophon and Plato shows plainly that Socrates
did not regard his " customary sign " either as a divinity or as a
genius. According to Xenophon, the sign was a warning, either to
do or not to do, which it would be folly to neglect, not superseding
ordinary prudence, but dealing with those uncertainties in respect
of which other men found guidance in oracles and tokens; Socrates
believed in it profoundly, and never disobeyed it. According to
Plato, the sign was a " voice " which warned Socrates to refrain from
some act which he contemplated; he heard it frequently and on
the most trifling occasions; the phenomenon dated from his early
years, and was, so far as he knew, peculiar to himself. These
statements have been variously interpreted. Thus it has been
maintained that, in laying claim to supernatural revelations,
Socrates (i) committed a pious fraud, (2) indulged his " accustomed
irony," (3) recognized the voice of conscience, (4) indicated a general
belief in a divine mission, (5) described " the inward voice of his
individual tact, which in consequence partly of his experience and
penetration, partly of his knowledge of himself and exact apprecia-
tion of what was in harmony with his individuality, had attained
to an unusual accuracy," (6) was mad (" (Staitfou "), being subject
not only to hallucinations of sense but also to aberrations of reason.
Xenophon's testimony that Socrates was plainly sincere in his
belief excludes the first and second of these theories; the character
of the warnings given, which are always concerned, not with the
moral worth of actions, but with their uncertain results, warrants
the rejection of the third and the fourth; the fifth, while it suffi-
ciently accounts for the matter of the warning, leaves unexplained
its manner, the vocal utterance ; the sixth, while it plausibly explains
the manner of the warning, goes beyond the facts when it attributes
to it irrationality of matter. It remains for us, then, modifying
the fifth hypothesis, that of Diderot, Zeller and others, and the
sixth, that of Lelut and Littre1, and combining the two, to suppose
that Socrates was subject, not indeed to delusions of mind, but to
hallucinations of the sense of hearing, so that the rational sug-
gestions of his own brain, exceptionally valuable in consequence of
the accuracy and delicacy of his highly cultivated tact, seemed to
him to be projected without him, and to be returned to him through
the outward ear. It appears that, though in some of the best
known instances — for example, those of Cowper and Sidney Walker
— hallucinations of the sense of hearing, otherwise closely resembling
Socrates's " divine sign," have been accompanied by partial derange-
ment of reason, cases are not wanting in which " the thoughts
transformed into external sensorial impressions " are perfectly
rational.
The eccentricity of Socrates's life was not less remarkable
than the oddity of his appearance and the irony of his conver-
sation. His whole time was spent in public — in the .. . ....
market-place, the streets, the gymnasia. Thinking
with Dr Johnson that " a great city is the school for studying
life," he had no liking for the country, and seldom passed the
gates. " Fields and trees," Plato makes him say, " will not teach
me anything; the life of the streets will." He talked to all
comers — to the craftsman and the artist as willingly as to the
poet or the politician — questioning them about their affairs,
about the processes of their several occupations, about their
notions of morality, in a word, about familiar matters in which
they might be expected to take an interest. The ostensible
purpose of these interrogatories was to test, and thus either
refute or explain, the famous oracle which had pronounced him
the wisest of men. Conscious of his own ignorance, he had
at first imagined that the god was mistaken. When, however,
experience showed that those who esteemed themselves wise were
unable to give an account of their knowledge, he had to admit
that, as the oracle had said, he was wiser than others, in so far
as, whilst they, being ignorant, supposed themselves to know,
he, being ignorant, was aware of his ignorance. Such, according
to the Apology, was Socrates's account of his procedure and its
results. But it is easy to see that the statement is coloured by
the accustomed irony. When in the same speech Socrates tells
his judges that he would never from fear of death or from any
other motive disobey the command of the god, and that, if they
put him to death, the loss would be, not his, but theirs, since they
would not readily find any one to take his place, it becomes
plain that he conceived himself to hold a commission to educate,
and was consciously seeking the intellectual and moral improve-
ment of his countrymen. His end could not be achieved without
the sacrifice of self. His meat and drink were of the poorest;
summer and winter his coat was the same; he was shoeless and
shirtless. " A slave whose master made him live as you live,"
says a sophist in the Memorabilia, " would run away." But
by the surrender of the luxuries and the comforts of life Socrates
secured for himself the independence which was necessary that
he might go about his appointed business, and therewith he was
content.
His message was to all, but it was variously received. Those
who heard him perforce and Occasionally were apt to regard
his teaching either with indifference or with irritation, Contempo-
— with indifference, if, as might be, they failed to raryjudg-
see in the elenchus anything more than elaborate ments-
trifling; with irritation, if, as was probable, they perceived that,
in spite of his assumed ignorance, Socrates was well aware of
the result to which their enforced answers tended. Amongst
334
SOCRATES
those who deliberately sought and sedulously cultivated his
acquaintance there were some who attached themselves to him
as they might have attached themselves to any ordinary sophist,
conceiving that by temporary contact with so acute a reasoner
they would best prepare themselves for the logomachies of the
law courts, the assembly and the senate. Again, there were
others who saw in Socrates at once master, counsellor and friend,
and hoped by associating with him " to become good men and
true, capable of doing their duty by house and household, by
relations and friends, by city and fellow-citizens " (Xenophon).
Finally, there was a little knot of intimates who, having some-
thing of Socrates's enthusiasm, entered more deeply than the rest
into his principles, and, when he died, transmitted them to the
next generation. Yet even those who belonged to this inner
circle were united, not by any common doctrine, but by a common
admiration for their master's intellect and character.
For, the paradoxes of Socrates's personality and the eccentricity
of his behaviour, if they offended the many, fascinated the few.
p, . , " It is not easy for a man in my condition," says the
Panegyric, intoxicated Alcibiades in Plato's Symposium, " to
describe the singularity of Socrates's character.
But I will try to tell his praises in similitudes. He is like the
piping Silenes in the statuaries' shops, which, when you open
them, are found to contain images of gods. Or, again, he is
like the satyr Marsyas, not only in outward appearance — that,
Socrates, you will yourself allow — but in other ways also. Like
him, you are given to frolic — I can produce evidence to that;
and above all, like him, you are a wonderful musician. Only
there is this difference — what he does with the help of his instru-
ment you do with mere words; for whatsoever man, woman or
child hears you, or even a feeble report of what you have said,
is struck with awe and possessed with admiration. As for myself,
were I not afraid that you would think me more drunk than I
am, I would tell you on oath how his words have moved me —
ay, and how they move me still. When I listen to him my heart
beats with a more than Corybantic excitement; he has only to
speak and my tears flow. Orators, such as Pericles, never
moved me in this way — never roused my soul to the thought
of my servile condition; but this Marsyas makes me think that
life is not worth living so long as I am what I am. Even now,
if I were to listen, I could not resist. So there is nothing for
me but to stop my ears against this siren's song and fly for my
life, that I may not grow old sitting at his feet. No one would
think that I had any shame in me; but I am ashamed in the
presence of Socrates."
The Accusation and its Causes. — The life led by Socrates was
not h'kely to win for him either the affection or the esteem of the
vulgar. Those who did not know him personally,
Seein8 him with the eyes of the comic poets, con-
ceived him as a " visionary " (/ierecopoXoyos) and a
"bore" (dSoXecrx1?*)- Those who had faced him in argument,
even if they had not smarted under his rebukes, had at any rate
winced under his interrogatory, and regarded him in consequence
with feelings of dislike and fear. But the eccentricity of his
genius and the ill will borne towards him by individuals are not
of themselves sufficient to account for the tragedy of 399. It
thus becomes necessary to study the circumstances of the trial,
and to investigate the motives which led the accusers to seek
his death and the people of Athens to acquiesce in it.
Socrates was accused (i) of denying the gods recognized by
the state and introducing instead of them strange divinities
(5ai^6fia), and (2) of corrupting the young. The
Accusation. &TSi °f these charges rested upon the notorious fact
that he supposed himself to be guided by a divine
visitant or sign (Saiijoviov) . The second, Xenophon tells us, was
supported by a series of particular allegations : (a) that he taught
his associates to despise the institutions of the state, and especially
election by lot ; (b) that he had numbered amongst his associates
Critias and Alcibiades, the most dangerous of the representatives
of the oligarchical and democratical parties respectively; (c) that
he taught the young to disobey parents and guardians and to
prefer his own authority to theirs; (d) that he was in the habit of
Its Weak-
ness.
quoting mischievous passages of Homer and Hesiod to the
prejudice of morality and democracy.
It is plain that the defence was not calculated to conciliate a
hostile jury. Nevertheless, it is at first sight difficult to under-
stand how an adverse verdict became possible. If strength
Socrates rejected portions of the conventional of the
mythology, he accepted the established faith and Defence.
performed its offices with exemplary regularity. If he talked
of a doifioviov, the dainovtov was no new divinity, but a mantic
sign divinely accorded to him, presumably by the gods of the
state. If he questioned the propriety of certain of the institutions
of Athens, he was prepared to yield an unhesitating obedience
to all. He had never countenanced the misdeeds of Critias and
Alcibiades, and indeed, by a sharp censure, had earned the
undying hatred of one .of them. Duty to parents he inculcated
as he inculcated other virtues; and,, if he made the son wiser than
the father, surely that was not a fault. The citation of a few
lines from the poets ought not to weigh against the clear evidence
of his large-hearted patriotism; and it might be suspected that
the accuser had strangely misrepresented his application of the
familiar words.
To the modern reader Xenophon's reply, of which the fore-
going is in effect a summary, will probably seem sufficient, and
more than sufficient. But it must not be forgotten
that Athenians of the old school approached the sub-
ject from an entirely different point of view. Socrates
was in all things an innovator — in religion, inasmuch as he sought
to eliminate from the theology of his contemporaries " those
lies which poets tell "; in politics, inasmuch as he distrusted
several institutions dear to Athenian democracy; in education,
inasmuch as he waged war against authority, and in a certain
sense made each man the measure of his own actions. It is
because Socrates was an innovator that we, who see in him the
founder of philosophical inquiry, regard him as a great man;
it was because Socrates was an innovator that old-fashioned
Athenians, who saw in the new-fangled culture the origin of all
their recent distresses and disasters, regarded him as a great
criminal. It is, then, after all hi no wise strange that a majority
was found first to pronounce him guilty, and afterwards, when
he refused to make any submission and professed himself in-
different to any mitigation of the penalty, to pass upon him the
sentence of death. That the verdict and the sentence were not
in any way illegal is generally acknowledged.
But, though the popular distrust of eccentricity, the irritation
of individuals and groups of individuals, the attitude of Socrates
himself, and the prevalent dislike of the intellectual occasion
movement which he represented, go far to account of the
for the result of the trial, they do not explain the Attack.
occasion of the attack. Socrates's oddity and brusquerie were
no new things; yet in the past, though they had made him
unpopular, they had not brought him into the courts. His
sturdy resistance to the demos in 406 and to the Thirty in 404
had passed, if not unnoticed, at all events unpunished. His
political heresies and general unorthodoxy had not caused him
to be excluded from the amnesty of 403. Why was it, then,
that in 399, when Socrates's idiosyncrasies were more than ever
familiar, and when the constitution had been restored, the
toleration hitherto extended to him was withdrawn? What
were the special circumstances which induced three members
of the patriot party, two of them leading politicians, to unite
their efforts against one who apparently was so little
formidable?
For an answer to this question it is necessary to look to the
history of Athenian politics. Besides the oligarchical party,
properly so called, which in 411 was represented by Political
the Four Hundred and in 404 by the Thirty, and the Reasons
democratical party, which returned to power in forlt'
410 and in 403, there was at Athens during the last years of the
Peloponnesian War a party of " moderate oligarchs," antagon-
istic to both. It was to secure the co-operation of the moderate
party that the Four Hundred in 411 promised to constitute the
Five Thousand, and that the Thirty in 404 actually constituted
SOCRATES
335
the Three Thousand. It was in the hope of realizing the
aspirations of the moderate party that Theramenes, its most
prominent representative, allied himself, first with the Four
Hundred, afterwards with the Thirty. In 411 the policy of
Theramenes (.».) was temporarily successful, the Five Thousand
superseding the Four Hundred. In 404 the Thirty outwitted
him; for, though they acted upon his advice so far as to consti-
tute the Three Thousand, they were careful to keep all real
power in their own hands. But on both occasions the " polity "
— for such, in the Aristotelian sense of the term, the constitution
of 411-410 was, and the constitution of 404-403 professed to
be — was insecurely based, so that it was not long before the
" unmixed democracy " was restored. The programme of the
" moderates " — which included (i) the limitation of the fran-
chise, by the exclusion of those who were unable to provide
themselves with the panoply of a hoplite and thus to render to
the city substantial service, (2) the abolition of payment for the
performance of political functions, and, as it would seem, (3) the
disuse of the lot in the election of magistrates — found especial
favour with the intellectual class. Thus Alcibiades was amongst
its promoters, and Thucydides commends the constitution
established after the fall of the Four Hundred as the best which
in his time Athens had enjoyed. Now it is expressly stated that
Socrates disliked election by lot; it is certain that, regarding
paid educational service as a species of prostitution, he would
account paid political service not a whit less odious; and the
stress laid by the accuser upon the Homeric quotation (Iliad ii.
188-202) — which ends with the lines 6cujui\oaia,
their " pursuit of knowledge for its own sake." Unconsciously,
or more probably consciously, Socrates rested his scepticism upon
the Protagorean doctrine that man is the measure of his own sensa-
tions and feelings; whence he inferred, not only that knowledge
such as the philosophers had sought, certain knowledge of
nature and its laws, was unattainable, but also that neither he nor
any other person had authority to overbear the opinions of another,
or power to convey instruction to one who had it not. Accordingly,
whereas Protagoras and others, abandoning physical speculation
and coming forward as teachers of culture, claimed for themselves
in this new field power to instruct and authority to dogmatize,
Socrates, unable to reconcile himself to this inconsistency, proceeded
with the investigation of principles until he found a resting-place, a
TTOV , in the distinction between good and evil. While all
opinions were equally true, of those opinions which were capable of
being translated into act some, he conceived, were as working
hypotheses more serviceable than others. It was here that the
function of such a one as himself began. Though he had neither
the right nor the power to force his opinions upon another, he might
by a systematic interrogatory lead another to substitute a better
opinion for a worse, just as a physician by appropriate remedies
may enable his patient to substitute a healthy sense of taste for a
morbid one. To administer such an interrogatory and thus to be
the physician of souls was, Socrates thought, his divinely appointed
duty; and, when he described himself as a " talker " or " converser,"
he not only negatively distinguished himself from those who,
whether philosophers or sophists, called themselves " teachers "
(5idaaKa\oi), but also positively indicated the method of question and
answer (SiaXotTuc^) which he consistently preferred and habitually
practised.
That it was in this way that Socrates was brought to regard
" dialectic," " question and answer," as the only admissible method
of education is, in the opinion of the present writer, no
matter of mere conjecture. In the review of theories
of knowledge which has come down to us in Plato's
Theaetetus mention is made (172 B) of certain " incomplete
Protagoreans," who held that, while all opinions are equally
true, one opinion is better than another, and that the " wise
man " is one who by his arguments causes good opinions to take
the place of bad ones, thus reforming the soul of the individual or
the laws of a state by a process similar to that of the physician or
the farmer (166 D seq.) ; and these " incomplete Protagoreans " are
identified with Socrates and the Socratics by their insistence (167 D)
upon the characteristically Socratic distinction between disputation
and dialectic, as well as by other familiar traits of Socratic converse.
In fact, this passage becomes intelligible and significant if it is
supposed to refer to the historical Socrates; and by teaching us to
regard him as an " incomplete Protagorean " it supplies the link
which connects his philosophical scepticism with his dialectical
theory of education. It is no doubt possible that Socrates was
unaware of the closeness of his relationship to Protagoras; but the
fact, once stated, hardly admits of question.
In the application of the " dialectical " or " maieutic " method
two processes are distinguishable — the destructive process, by which
the worse opinion was eradicated, and the constructive
process, by which the better opinion was induced. In
general it was not mere " ignorance " with which
Socrates had to contend, but " ignorance mistaking itself for
knowledge " or " false conceit of wisdom " — a more stubborn
and a more formidable foe, who, safe so long as he remained
in his intrenchments, must be drawn from them, circumvented,
and surprised. Accordingly, taking his departure from some appar-
ently remote principle or proposition to which the respondent
yielded a ready assent, Socrates would draw from it an unexpected
but undeniable consequence which was plainly inconsistent with the
opinion impugned. In this way he brought his interlocutor to pass
judgment upon himself, and reduced him to a state of " doubt ' or
" perplexity" (&Tropia). " Before I ever met you," says Meno in
the dialogue which Plato called by his name (79 E), 'I was told
that you spent your time in doubting and leading others to doubt ;
and it is a fact that your witcheries and spells have brought me to
that condition; you are like the torpedo: as it benumbs any one
who approaches and touches it, so do you. For myself, my soul
and my tongue are benumbed, so that I have no answer to give you."
Even if, as often happened, the respondent, baffled and disgusted
by the 8X«7x°s or destructive process, at this point withdrew from
the inquiry, he had, in Socrates's judgment, gained something; for,
whereas formerly, being ignorant, he had supposed himself to have
knowledge, now, being ignorant, he was in some sort conscious of his
ignorance, and accordingly would be for the future more circumspect
in action. If, however, having been thus convinced of ignorance,
SOCRATES
the respondent did not shrink from a new effort, Socrates was
ready to aid him by further questions of a suggestive sort. Consis-
tent thinking with a view to consistent action being the end of the
inquiry, Socrates would direct the respondent's attention to instances
analogous to that in hand, and so lead him to frame for himself a
generalization from which the passions and the prejudices of the
moment were, as far as might be, excluded. In this constructive
process, though the element of surprise was no longer necessary, the
interrogative form was studiously preserved, because it secured at
each step thft conscious and responsible assent of the learner.
Of the two processes of the dialectical method, the JXeTxos or
destructive process attracted the more attention, both in conse-
quence of its novelty and because many of those who
Maleutlcln w;ningly or unwillingly submitted to it stopped short
Plato and ^ t|je stage of " perplexity." But to Socrates and his
xenophon. jntjmates the constructive process was the proper and
necessary sequel. It is true that in the dialogues of Plato
the destructive process is not always, or even often, followed by
construction, and that in the Memorabilia of Xenophon construction
is not always, or even often, preceded by the destructive process.
There is, however, in this nothing surprising. On the one hand,
Xenophon, having for his principal purpose the defence of his master
against vulgar calumny, seeks to show by effective examples the
excellence of his positive teaching, and accordingly is not careful to
distinguish, still less to emphasize, the negative procedure. On the
other hand, Plato, his aim being not so much to preserve Socrates's
positive teaching as rather by written words to stimulate the reader
to self-scsutiny, just as the spoken words of the master had stimu-
lated the hearer, is compelled by the very nature of his task to
keep the constructive element in the background, and, where
Socrates would have drawn an unmistakable conclusion, to confine
himself to enigmatical hints. For example, when we compare
Xenophon's Memorabilia, iv. 6, 2-4, with Plato's Euthyphro, we
note that, while in the former the interlocutor is led by a few sugges-
tive questions to define " piety " as " the knowledge of those laws
which are concerned with the gods," in the latter, though on a
further scrutiny it appears that " piety " is " that part of justice
which is concerned with the service of the gods," the conversation
is ostensibly inconclusive. In short, Xenophon, a mere reporter
of Socrates's conversations, gives the results, but troubles himself
little about the steps which led to them; Plato, who in early manhood
was an educator of the Socratic type, withholds the results that he
may secure the advantages of the elenctic stimulus.
What, then, were the positive conclusions to which Socrates
carried his hearers? and how were those positive conclusions
obtained? Turning to Xenophon for an answer to
nduction these questions, we note (i) that the recorded conversa-
n « HI ti°ns are concerned with practical action, political,
moral, or artistic; (2) that in general there is a process
from the known to the unknown through a generalization, expressed
or implied; (3) that the generalizations are sometimes rules of con-
duct, justified by examination of known instances, sometimes
definitions similarly established. Thus, in Memorabilia, iv. I, 3,
Socrates argues from the known instances of horses and dogs that,
the best natures stand most in need of training, and then applies
the generalization to the instance under discussion, that of men ; and
in iv. 6, 13-14, he leads his interlocutor to a definition of " the good
citizen," and then uses it to decide between two citizens for whom
respectively superiority is claimed. Now in the former of these
cases the process — which Aristotle would describe as " example "
(jrapa5«-y/m), and a modern might regard as " induction " of an
uncritical sort — sufficiently explains itself. The conclusion is a
provisional assurance that in the particular matter in hand a certain
course of action is, or is not, to be adopted. But it is necessary to
say a word of explanation about the latter case, in which, the general-
ization being a definition, that is to say, a declaration that to a
given term the interlocutor attaches in general a specified meaning,
the conclusion is a provisional assurance that the interlocutor may,
or may not, without falling into inconsistency, apply the term in
question to a certain person or act. Moral error, Socrates conceived,
is largely due to the misapplication of general terms, which, once
affixed to a person or to an act, possibly in a moment of passion
or prejudice, too often stand in the way of sober and careful reflection.
It was in order to exclude error of this sort that Socrates insisted
upon TO opi£ia8ai ttaB6\ov with ttraxTiKoi X^TOI for its basis. By
requiring a definition and the reference to it of the act or person in
question, he sought to secure in the individual at any rate consistency
of thought, and, in so far, consistency of action. Accordingly he
spent his life in seeking and helping others to seek " the what "
(T& rl), or the definition, of the various words by which the moral
quality of actions is described, valuing the results thus obtained
not as contributions to knowledge, but as means to right action in
the multifarious relations of life.
While, however, Socrates sought neither knowledge, which in
the strict sense of the word he held to be unattainable, nor yet,
except as a means to right action, true opinion, the
virtue!* results of observation accumulated until they formed,
ieage.not perhaps a system of ethics, but at any rate
a body of ethical doctrine. Himself blessed with a will so powerful
that it moved almost without friction, he fell into the error of
ignoring its operations, and was thus led to regard knowledge as the
sole condition of well-doing. Where there is knowledge — that is to
say, practical wisdom (pt>vria «) , the only knowledge which he
recognized — right action, he conceived, follows of itself; for no one
knowingly prefers what is evil ; and, if there are cases in which men
seem to act against knowledge, the inference to be drawn is, not that
knowledge and wrongdoing are compatible, but that in the cases
in question the supposed knowledge was after all ignorance. Virtue,
then, is knowledge, knowledge at once of end and of means, irre-
sistibly realizing itself in act. Whence it follows that the several
virtues which are commonly distinguished are essentially one.
" Piety," " justice," " courage " and " temperance " are the names
which " wisdom " bears in different spheres of action: to be pious is
to know what is due to the gods; to be just is to know what is due to
men ; to be courageous is to know what is to be feared and what is
not ; to be temperate is to know how to use what is good and avoid
what is evil. Further, inasmuch as virtue is knowledge, it can
be acquired by education and training, though it is certain that
one soul has by nature a greater aptitude than another for such
acquisition.
But, if virtue is knowledge, what has this knowledge for its object?
To this question Socrates replies, Its object is the Good. What,
then, is the Good? It is the useful, the advantageous.
Utility, the immediate utility of the individual, thus Theory of
becomes the measure of conduct and the foundation ™e°0<"'-
of all moral rule and legal enactment. Accordingly, each pre-
cept of which Socrates delivers himself is recommended on the
ground that obedience to it will promote the pleasure, the
comfort, the advancement, the well-being of the individual; and
Prodicus's apologue of the Choice of Heracles, with its commonplace
offers of worldly reward, is accepted as an adequate statement of
the motives of virtuous action. Of the graver difficulties of ethical
theory Socrates has no conception, having, as it would seem, so
perfectly absorbed, the lessons of what Plato calls " political virtue "
that morality has become with him a second nature, and the
scrutiny of its credentials from an external standpoint has ceased
to be possible. His theory is indeed so little systematic that,
whereas, as has been seen, virtue or wisdom has the Good for its
object, he sometimes identifies the Good, with virtue or wisdom,
thus falling into the error which Plato (Republic vi. 505 C), perhaps
with distinct reference to Socrates, ascribes to certain " cultivated
thinkers." In short, the ethical theory of Socrates, like the rest of
his teaching, is by confession unscientific ; it is the statement of the
convictions of a remarkable nature, which statement emerges in
the course of an appeal to the individual to study consistency in the
interpretation of traditional rules of conduct. For a critical exami-
nation of the ethical teaching which is here described in outline, see
ETHICS.
The Socratics.
It has been seen that, so far from having any system, physical
or metaphysical, to enunciate, Socrates rejected " the pursuit of
knowledge for its own sake " as a delusion and a snare, —
a delusion, inasmuch as knowledge, properly so called, Socratic
is unattainable, and a snare, in so far as the pursuit of Schools.
it draws us away from the study of conduct. He has therefore no
claim to be regarded as the founder of a philosophical school. But
he had made some tentative contributions to a theory of morality ;
he had shown both in his life and in his death that his principles
stood the test of practical application ; he had invented a method
having for its end the rectification of opinion; and, above all, he
had asserted " the autonomy of the individual intellect." Accor-
dingly, not one school but several schools sprang up amongst his
associates, those of them who had a turn for speculation taking
severally from his teaching so much as their pre-existing tendencies
and convictions allowed them to assimilate. Thus Aristippus of
Cyrene interpreted hedonistically the theoretical morality; Antis-
thenes the Cynic copied and caricatured the austere example;
Euclides of Megara practised and perverted the eienctic method;
Plato the Academic, accepting the whole of the Socratic teaching,
first developed it harmoniously in the sceptical spirit of its author,
and afterwards, conceiving that he had found in Socrates's agnosti-
cism the germ of a philosophy, proceeded to construct a system
which should embrace at once ontology, physics, and ethics. From
the four schools thus established sprang subsequently four other
schools, — the Epicureans being the natural successors of the Cyre-
naics, the Stoics of the Cynics, the Sceptics of the Megarians, and the
Peripatetics of the Academy. In this way the teaching of Socrates
made itself felt throughout the whole of the post-Socratic philosophy.
Of the influence which he exercised upon Aristippus, Antisthenes
and Euclides, the " incomplete Sociatics," as they are commonly
called, as well as upon the " complete Socratic," Plato, something
must now be said.
The "incomplete Socratics" were, like Socrates, sceptics; but,
whereas Aristippus, who seems to have been in contact with Pro-
tagoreanism before he made acquaintance with Socrates,
came to scepticism, as Protagoras had done, from the ''
standpoint of the pluralists, Antisthenes, like his *
former master Gorgias, and Euclides, in whom the ancients
SOCRATES
337
rightly saw a successor of Zeno, came to scepticism from the stand-
point of Eleatic henism. In other words, Aristippus was sceptical
because, taking into account the subjective element in sensation,
he found himself compelled to regard what are called " things " as
successions of feelings, which feelings are themselves absolutely
distinct from one another; while Antisthenes and Euclides were
sceptical because, like Zeno, they did not understand how the same
thing could at the same moment bear various and inconsistent
epithets, and consequently conceived all predication which was not
identical to be illegitimate. Thus Aristippus recognized only
feelings, denying things; Antisthenes recognized things, denying
attributions; and it is probable that in this matter Euclides was at
one with him. For, though since Schleiermacher many historians,
unnecessarily identifying the ti&av l\oi of Plato's Sophist with
the Megarians, have ascribed to Euclides a theory of " ideas," and on
the strength of this single passage thus conjecturally interpreted
have added a new chapter to the history of Megarianism, it is difficult,
if not impossible, to see how, if the founder of the school had broken
loose from the trammels of the Zenonian paradox, his successors,
and amongst them Stilpo, should have reconciled themselves, as
they certainly did, to the Cynic denial of predication.
While the " incomplete Socratics " made no attempt to overpass
the limits which Socrates had imposed upon himself, within those
limits they occupied each his department. Aristippus, a citizen
of the world, drawn to Athens by the fame of Socrates, and retained
there by the sincere affection which he conceived for him, inter-
preted the ethical doctrine of Socrates in accordance with his own
theory of pleasure, which in its turn came under the refining influence
of Socrates's theory of >pic7)v, see the writer's paper " On the Saiubviov of
Socrates," in the Journal of Philology, v. ; and cf. Chr. Meiners,
Vermischte philosophische Schriften (Leipzig, 1776) — " in moments
of ' Schwarmerei ' Socrates took for the voice of an attendant genius
what was in reality an instantaneous presentiment in regard to the
issue of a contemplated act." For a fuller statement of the writer's
view of Plato's relations to Socrates, see a paper on Plato's Republic,
vi. 509 D seq., in the Journal of Philology, vol. x., and a series of papers
on " Plato's Later Theory of Ideas," in vols. x., xi., xiii., xiv., xv.,
xxv. of the same periodical.
See also SOPHISTS and ETHICS. (H. JA.)
SOCRATES, the name of a famous sth-century church historian.
In the course of the last twenty-five years (425-450) of the reign
of Theodosius II. (the first thoroughly Byzantine emperor) at
least six church histories were written in Greek within the
limits of the Eastern Empire — those, namely, of Philostorgius
the Arian, of Philip of Side, of Socrates, of Sozomen, of Theodoret
and of Hesychius. Of these the first, no longer extant except
in fragments, seems to have been the most important. Those
of Philip and of Hesychius (the former an untrustworthy and
dreary performance mentioned by Socrates [vii. 26, 27]) have
also perished. The remaining three are now our main sources
for church history from Constantine to Theodosius II. None of
them has ventured upon a fresh treatment of the period dealt
with by Eusebius; all three begin their narratives about the
point where his closes. In the West the Church History of that
author had already been continued by Rufinus and his Chronicle
by Jerome, and the work of Rufinus was certainly known to the
Byzantines. Nor did these write independently of each other,
for Sozomen (.».) certainly had before him the work of Socrates,
and Theodoret (q.v.) knew both of them. The three histories
together became known in the West from the 6th century through
the selection which Cassiodorus caused to be made from them,
and it is to this selection (if we leave Rufinus and Jerome out of
account) that the middle ages were mainly indebted for all they
knew of the Arian controversies, and of the period generally
between the Councils of Nice and Ephesus.
The 'E/c/cXjjo-taoTuo} IffTopia of Socrates, still extant in
seven books, embracing the period from 306 to 439, was written
in 439, or within a few years thereafter. He was born and
brought up at Constantinople. The date of his birth is uncertain,
but it cannot have been far from 380. Of the facts of his life we
know practically nothing, except that he was not a cleric but a
" scholasticus " or advocate. Of the occasion, plan and object
of his work he has himself informed us in the prologues to his
first, second, fifth and sixth books. It is dedicated to one
Theodorus, who had urged him to write such a history. He
had no thorough preparation for the task, and for the period
down to the death of Constantius (361) was practically dependent
on Rufinus. After his work was finished he became a student
of Athanasius' writings and came to see how untrustworthy his
guide had been. He accordingly rewrote his first two books (see
H. E. ii. i) certainly before 450 and probably before 444 (see
Geppert p. 8), and it is only this revision that has reached us.
The chief sources from which he drew were: (i) the Church
History, the Life of Constantine and certain theological works of
Eusebius; (2) the Church History of Rufinus; (3) certain works of
Athanasius; (4) the no longer extant Supcryuryij rSov crvvoSiKuv
of the Macedonian and semi- Arian Sabinus — a collection of acts
of councils with commentaries, brought down to the reign of
Theodosius I. (this was a main source) ; (5) the Constantinopolitan
Chronicle; (6) possibly a collection of imperial biographies;
(7) lists of bishops; (8) collections of letters by members of the
Arian and orthodox parties. He also used writings of Gregory
Thaumaturgus, Archelaus, Acacius,Didymus, George of Laodicea,
Gregory Nazianzen, Timothy of Berytus (see Lietzmann,
A pollinaris von Laodicea, p. 44) , Nestorius, Eusebius Scholasticus,
Philip of Side, Evagrius, Palladius, Eutropius, the emperor
Julian and orations of Libanius and Themistius; and he was
apparently acquainted with some of the works of Origen and with
Pamphilus' Apologia pro Origene. (On his sources see Jeep,
and especially Geppert.) Jeep alleges (pp. 149 sqq.), but without
adequate proof, that he made use of Philostorgius. As regards
profane history his materials were exceedingly defective. Thus,
for example, he confesses that his reason for not giving an account
of the wars of Constantine is his inability to ascertain anything
certain about them (v. praef.). His reckonings by Olympiads
are generally wrong, the error arising chiefly from carelessness.
He is greatly indebted to oral tradition and to the testimony of
eye-witnesses, especially of members of the Novatian community
in Constantinople; some things also he has set down from per-
sonal knowledge. The contents of the closing books are for
the most part derived from oral tradition, from the narratives
of friends and countrymen, from what was still generally known
and current in the capital about past events, and from the
ephemeral literature of the day.
The theological position of Socrates, so far as he can be said to
have had one, is at once disclosed in his unlimited admiration for
Origen. All the enemies of the great Alexandrian he regards
merely as empty and vain obscurantists; for the orthodoxy of his
hero he appeals to Athanasius. Closely connected with his high
regard for Origen are his appreciation of science generally and the
moderation of his judgment on all dogmatic questions. According
to him, 'EXXijvodi 7r(uie£a is quite indispensable within the Church;
many Greek philosophers were not far from the knowledge of God,
as is proved by their triumphant arguments against atheists and
gainsayers of divine providence. The apostles did not set them-
selves against the study of Greek literature and science; Paul had
even made a thorough study of them himself. The Scriptures, it
is true, contain all that appertains to faith and life, but give no
clue to the art of confuting gainsayers. Greek science, therefore,
must not be banished from the Church, and the tendency within the
Church so to deal with it is wrong. This point of view was the
common one of the majority of educated Christians at that period,
and is not to be regarded as exceptionally liberal. The same holds
true of the position of Socrates in regard to dogmatic questions.
On the one hand, indeed, orthodoxy and heresy are symbolized to
his mind by the wheat and the tares respectively; he clings to the
naive opinion of Catholicism, that contemporary orthodoxy has
prevailed within the Church from the first; he recognizes the true
faith only in the mystery of the Trinity; he judges heretics who have
been already condemned as interlopers, as impudent innovators,
actuated by bad and self -seeking motives; he apologizes for having
so much as treated of Arianism at all in his history of the Church;
he believes in the inspiration of the ecclesiastical councils as much as
in that of the Scriptures themselves. But, on the other hand, he
takes absolutely no interest in dogmatic subtleties and clerical
disputes; he regards them as the source of great evils, and expresses
his craving for peace: " one ought to adore the ineffable mystery
in silence." This attitude, which was that of most educated
Byzantine laymen, has in particular cases made it possible for him
to arrive at very free judgments. Even granting that some feeble
remains of antique reserve may have contributed to this, and even
although some of it is certainly to be set down to his disposition and
temperament, still it was his religious passivity that here deter-
mined the character of Socrates and made him a typical example
of the later Byzantine Christianity. If Socrates had lived about the
year 325, he certainly would not have ranked himself on the side of
Athanasius, but would have joined the party of mediation. But —
the biJLooiiauK has been laid down, and must be recognized as
correctly expressing the mystery; only one ought to rest satisfied
with that word and with the repudiation of Arianism. Anything
more, every new distinction, is mischievous. The controversy in
its details is a vvKTOfiaxia to him, full of misunderstandings. Some-
times he gives prominence, and correctly, to the fact that the
disputants partially failed to understand one another, because they
had separate interests at heart — those on the one side desiring above
everything to guard against polytheism, those on the other being
most afraid of Sabellianism. He did not fail, however, to recognize
also that the controversies frequently had their root in mere emula-
tion, slander and sophistry. Not unfrequently he passes very sharp
judgments on whole groups of bishops. In the preface to his fifth
book he excuses his trenching on the region of political history on
the ground of his desire to spare his readers the disgust which perusal
of the endless disputes of the bishops could not fail to excite, and in
that to his sixth book he prides himself on never having flattered
even the orthodox bishops. This attitude of his has given him a
certain measure of impartiality. Constantius, and even Julian —
not Valens, it is true-j-are estimated very fairly. The Arian Goths
who died for their religion are recognized as genuine martyrs. His
characterizations of Cyril and Nestorius, and his narrative and criti-
cism of the beginnings of the Christological controversy, are models
of candour and historical conscientiousness. In frequent instances,
moreover, he acknowledges his own incompetency to give an opinion
SODALITE— SODEN, H.
339
and hands the question over to the clergy. For the clergy as a
whole, in spite of his criticism of individuals, he has the very highest
respect, as also for the monks, without himself making any inordinate
religious professions. In a special excursus of considerable length
he has paid a tribute of the highest order to monachism, and in his
characterization of Theodosius II. also (where he has made use
of the brightest colours) he does not fail to point out that in piety
the emperor could almost compete with the monks. But, apart
from these two chapters (iv. 23, vii. 22), it is but seldom that one
could learn from the pages of Socrates that there was such a thing
as monasticism in those days. To his mind the convent is not far
removed from the church, and as a layman he is not at all inclined
to accept the principles of monachism as applying to himself or to
square his views of history in accordance with them. He has even
gone so far as formally to express his sympathy with Paphnutius,
the champion of the right of bishops to marry.
As a source' for the period within which he wrote, the work of
Socrates is of the greatest value, but as " history " it disappoints
even the most modest expectations. Eusebius, after all, had some
conception of what is meant by " church history," but Socrates has
none. " As long as there is peace there is no material for a history
of the church " ; but, on the other hand, neither do heresies by rights
come into the story. What, then, is left for it? A collection of
anecdotes and a series of episodes. In point of fact this is the view
actually taken by Socrates. His utter want of care and consistency
appears most clearly in his vacillation as to the relations between
ecclesiastical and political history. At one time he brings in politics,
at another he excuses himself from doing so. He has not failed to
observe that Church and State act and react upon each other; but he
has no notion how the relation ought to be conceived. Nevertheless,
his whole narrative follows the thread of political — that is to say,
of imperial — history. This indeed is characteristic of his Byzantine
Christian point of view; church history becomes metamorphosed
into a history of the emperors and of the state, because a special
church history is at bottom impossible. But even so one hardly
hears anything about state or court except great enterprises and
anecdotes. Political insight is wholly wanting to Socrates; all
the orthodox emperors blaze forth in a uniform light of dazzling
splendour; even the miserable Arcadius is praised, and Theodosius
II. figures as a saint whose exemplary piety turned the capital into a
church. If in addition to all this we bear in mind that in his later
books the historian's horizon is confined to the city and patriarchate
of Constantinople, that he was exceedingly ill informed on all that
related to Rome and the West, that in order to fill out his pages he
has introduced narratives of the most unimportant description, that
in not a few instances he has evinced his credulity (although when
compared with the majority of his contemporaries he is still entitled
to be called critical), it becomes sufficiently clear that his History,
viewed as a whole and as a literary production, can at best take only
a secondary place. One great excellence, however, cannot be denied
him, his honest and sincere desire to be impartial. He tried also,
as far as he could, to distinguish between the certain, the probable,
the doubtful and the untrue. He made no pretence to be a searcher
of hearts and frequently declines to analyse motives. He has
made frank confession of his nescience, and in certain passages
his critical judgment and sober sense and circumspection are quite
striking. He writes a plain and unadorned style and shuns super-
fluous words. Occasionally even there are touches of humour
and of trenchant satire — always the sign of an honest writer. In
short, his learning and knowledge can be trusted little, but his
goodwill and straightforwardness a great deal. Considering the
circumstances under which he wrote, it can only be matter for con-
gratulation that such a man should have become our informant and
that his work has been preserved to us.
Finally, it looks as if Socrates was either himself originally a
Novatianist who had afterwards joined the Catholic Church, or stood,
through his ancestors or by education, in most intimate relations with
the Novatianist Church. In his History he betrays great sympathy
with that body, has gone with exactness into its history in Constanti-
nople and Phrygia, and is indebted for much of the material of his
work to Novatianist tradition and to his intercourse with prominent
members of the sect. Both directly and indirectly he has declared
that Novatianists and Catholics are brothers, that as such they
ought to seek the closest relations with one another, and that the
former ought to enjoy all the privileges of the latter. His efforts,
however, had only this result, that he himself afterwards fell under
suspicion of Novatianism.
EDITIONS AND LITERATURE. — Socrates' History has been edited by
Stephanus (Paris, 1544; Geneva, 1612), Valesius (Paris, 1659 sqq.),
Reading (Cambridge, 1720), Hussey (Oxford, 1853, reissued by
Bright, 1878). It is also to be found in volume Ixvii. of Migne's
Patrologia, and there is an Oxford school edition (1844) after Reading.
The latest English translation, revised by Zenos.js published in the
Nicene and post Nicene Fathers, 2nd series, vol. ii. There are Testi-
tnonia veterum in Valesius and more fully in Hussey; and Nolte's
paper in Tubing. Quartalschr. (1859, p. 518 seq.), contains emendations
in Hussey 's text, and notes towards the history of the text and
editions; see also Overbeck, in Tkeol. lit. Ztung. (1879), no. 20.
Special studies have been made by Baronius, Miraeus, Labb<5,
Valesius, Halloix, Scaliger, Ceillier, Cave, Dupin, Pagi, Ittig, Tille-
mont, Walch, Gibbon, Schroeckh, Lardner. See also Voss, De
histor. graecis; Fabricius-Harless, Biblioth. gr., vol. vii.; Rossler,
Bittiothek d. Kirc henvattr ; Holzhausen, De fontibus guibus Socr.,
Soz., ac Theod. in scribenda historia sacra, usi sunt (Gottingen, 1825);
Staudlin, Gesch. u. Lit. d. K.-G. (Hanover, 1827); Baur, Epochen
(1852); Harnack, " Socrates u. Sozomen" in Herzog-Hauck's Real-
encykl., 2nd ed.; Loeschke, " Sokrates," ibid., 3rd. ed. Detached
details are given also in works upon Constantine (Manso), Julian
(Mttcke, Rode, Neumann, Rendall), Damasus (Rade), Arianism
(Gwatkin's Studies of Arianism, which gives a severe but trust-
worthy criticism of Rufinus and discusses the manner in which
Socrates was related to him), the emperors after Julian (De Broglie,
Richter, Clinton, the Weltgeschichte of Ranke, the Gesch. d. ost-
romischen Reiches unter den Kaisern Arcadius u. Theod. II. (1885) of
Gtildenpenning, and the Kaiser Theodosius d. Gr., Halle (1878) of
Giildenpenning and Iffland, the last-named work discussing the
relation of Socrates to Sozomen), the barbarian migrations (Wieters-
heim, Dahn), the Goths (Waitz, Bessel, Kauffmann and Scott's
Ulfilas, 1885). Lastly, reference may be made to Sarrazin, De
Theodora Lectore, Theophanis fonte praecipuo (1881, treats of the
relation between Socrates and Sozomen, and of the completeness
of the former's work) ; Jeep, Quellenuntersuch. z. d. griech. Kirchen-
historikern (1884); Geppert, Die Quellen des Kirchenhistorikers
Socrates Scholasticus (1898). (A. HA.; A. C. McG.)
SODALITE, a group of rock-forming minerals comprising the
following isomorphous species: —
Sodalite Nai(AlCl)Al2(SiOJ)3
Hatty nite . . (Na2, Ca)a(NaSOi-Al)Al2(SiO4)3
Noselite . . Na<(NaSO4-Al)Al2(SiO1)3
Lazurite . . Na4(NaS3-Al)Al2(SiO4)3
They are thus sodium (or calcium) aluminium silicates, with
chloride, sulphate or sulphide. In their orthosilicate formulae, as
above written, and in their cubic crystalline form they present a
certain resemblance to the members of the garnet group. Crystals
usually have the form of the rhombic dodecahedron, and are
often twinned with interpenetration on an octahedral plane.
They are white, or often blue in colour, and have a vitreous
lustre. The hardness is 55, and the specific gravity 2-2-2-4.
These minerals are characteristic constituents of igneous rocks
rich in soda, and they also occur in metamorphic limestones.
The species sodalite (so named because it contains soda) occurs
as well-formed, colourless crystals in the ejected limestone blocks
of Monte Somma, Vesuvius, and in the sodalite-syenite of Juliane-
haab in south Greenland. Massive blue material is common in the
elaeplite-syenites of southern Norway, Gyergyo-Ditro in Transyl-
vania, Miyask in the Urals, Litchfield in Maine, Dungannon in
Ontario, Ice river in Kootenay county, British Columbia, &c. ; at
the three last-named localities it is found as large masses of a bright
sky-blue colour and suitable for cutting as an ornamental stone.
Recently, large masses with a pink colour, which quickly fades on
exposure to light, have been met with in elaeolite-pegmatite at
Kishangarh in Rajputana. Haiiynite, or haiiyne (named after
R. J. Haiiy), occurs as bright blue crystals and grains in the lavas
(phonolite, tephrite, &c.) of Vesuvius, Rome, the Eifel, &c. Nose-
lite, or nosean, is found as greyish crystals in the sanidine bombs of
the Eifel. Lazurite is an important constituent, together with some
haiiynite and sodalite, of lapis-lazuli (q.v.). (L. J. S.)
SODEN, a town and spa of Germany, in the Prussian pro-
vince of Hesse-Nassau, pleasantly situated in the valley of the
Sulzbach under the southern slope of the Taunus range, 10 m.
from Frankfort-on-Main and 4 m. N. from Hochst by rail.
Pop. (1905), 1917. The chief interest of the place centres in its
brine springs which are largely impregnated with carbonic acid
gas and oxide of iron, and are efficacious in chronic catarrh of
the respiratory organs, in liver and stomach disorders and
women's diseases. The waters are used both internally and
externally, and are largely exported. Soden lozenges (Sodener
Paslitten), condensed from the waters, are also in great repute.
Soden has a large and well-appointed Kurhaus, an Erangelical
and a Roman Catholic church, and a hospital for indigent
patients.
See Haupt, Soden am Taunus (Wiirzburg, 1902); and Kohler,
Der Kurort Soden am Taunus und seine Umgebungen (Frankfort, 1873).
SODEN, HERMANN, FREIHERR VON (1852- ), German
biblical scholar, was born in Cincinnati on the i6th of August
1852, and was educated at the university of Tubingen. He was
minister of Dresden-Striesen in 1881 and in 1887 became minister
of the Jerusalem Church in Berlin. In 1889 he became privai-
dozent in the university of Berlin, and four years later was
340
SODERHAMN— SODIUM
appointed extraordinary professor of divinity. His earlier
works include Philipperbrief (1890); " Untersuchungen iiber
neutest. Schriften " in the Protest. Jahrb. theolog. Studien
und Schriftkommentar (1895-1897); Und was tut d. evangel.
Kirche? (3rd. ed. 1890) ; Reisebriefe aus Palastina (and ed. 1901) ;
Palastina und seine Gesch. (2nd ed. 1904); Die wichtigsten Fragen
im Leben Jesu (1904); Urchristliche Literaturgesch. (1904). His
most important book is Die Schriften des neuen Testaments, in
Hirer altesten erreichbaren Textgestalt hergestettt auf Grund ihrer
Textgeschichte (Berlin, Bd. I., 1902-1910); certainly the most
important work on the text of the New Testament which had
been published since Westcott and Hort's New Testament in
the Original Greek (see BIBLE: New Testament),
Von Soden introduces, besides a new notation of MSS. (see Bible,
N.T. MSS. and versions), a new theory of textual history. He
thinks that in the 4th century there were in existence three recen-
sions of the text, which he distinguishes as K, H and I, with the
following characteristics and attestations.
K corresponds roughly to Westcott and Hort's Syrian Antiochian
text; it was probably made by Lucian in the 4th century. This
was in the end the most popular form of text, and is found in a more
or less degenerate state in all late MSS. The purest representatives
are 6l(fJ), e 75 (V), 92, (461), 94, 1027 (S), 1126 (476 = scrivener's k)
(661). Later recensions of K are called K1 and
and K', and there
are also others of less importance which represent the combination
of K with other texts.
H represents Westcott and Hort's Neutral and Alexandrian texts
between which von Soden does not distinguish.
It is found in eleven MSS. in varying degrees of purity : Si (B), 8 2
00,83 (C), 86 (*), & 48 (33), f26 (Z), «56 (L), 676 (A) f 1026 (892),
i 371 (1241) and t 376 (579). Between these MSS. there is no very
intimate connexion except between 8 I and 8 2 (B and K) which
represent a common original (81"2). S1"2 is the best representative
of H, but it has been contaminated by the Egyptian versions, and
sometimes by the K and / texts and by Origen, though not to any
great extent.
The other H MSS. are none of them equal in value to the two great
uncials. They have all been influenced by K, I, and by the text
of parallel passages, to a greater extent than 81"2, or than either of
the two witnesses to S1"2, but some of them have less Egyptian
corruption.
The origin of the H text must be regarded as unquestionably
Egyptian, in view of the fact that it was used by all the Egyptian
Church writers after the end of the 3rd century, and von Soden
adopts the well-known hypothesis, first made popular by Bousset,
that it represents the recension of Hesychius.
/ does not quite correspond to anything in Westcott and Hort's
system, but has points of contact with their " Western " text. It
is found in a series of subgroups of MSS. known as H', J, /", and others
of less importance (about eleven subgroups are suggested). Of
these H' is a family containing Cod. / and its allies (8 254, ^346, 8 457,
8467, &c.), «288 (22) and some allied MSS. e2O3 (872), el83 and
t 1131 ; J is the well-known Ferrar group; and 7a contains 8 5 (D),
«93 (565),eI33 (7Oo),el68 (28), e 050 and some others. It is necessary
to note that von Soden is able to place D in this group because he
regards it as owing many of its most remarkable readings to contami-
nation with the Latin version. / is, according to von Soden, a
Palestinian recension connected with Eusebius, Pamphilus and
Origen.
After establishing the text of I, H and K, von Soden reconstructs
an hypothetical text, I-H-K, which he believes to have been their
ancestor. He then tries to show that this text was known to all the
writers of the 3rd and 2nd centuries, but has naturally to account
for the fact that the quotations of these writers and the text of the
early versions often diverge from it. The explanation that he
offers is that the Diatessaron of Tatian was widely used and
corrupted all extant texts, so tha^ the Old Syriac, the Old Latin,
the quotations of Irenaeus, Clement, Tertullian and others may be
regarded as various combinations of the Tatianic text and I-H-K.
Finally, he tries to show that the Tatianic text is itself in the main
merely a corrupt form of I-H-K altered in order to suit the necessities
of Tatian's plan.
For criticism of this important theory up to 1909 see Nestle's
Einfuhrung in das griechische neue Testament, pp. 274-278 (3rd ed.,
Gottingen, 1909), and K. Lake's Professor H. von Soden s Treatment
ef the Text of the Gospels, Edinburgh, 1908). (K. L.)
SODERHAMN, a seaport of Sweden, in the district (liiri) of
Gefleborg, on an inlet of the Gulf of Bothnia, near the mouth of
the Ljasne River, 183 m. N. by W. of Stockholm by rail. Pop.
(1900), 11,258. This is one of the principal centres of the timber
export trade, having saw-mills, planing-mills and wood-pulp
works. There are also ironworks and breweries. Vessels
drawing 15 ft. have access to Branthall, where they generally
load. The harbour is at the suburb of Stugsund. It is usually
ice-bound for some four months in winter. The town was given
municipal privileges by Gustavus Adolphus in 1620, but is
modern in appearance, having been rebuilt after fires in 1860 and
1865.
SODERINI, PIERO (1450-1513), Florentine statesman, was
elected gonfalonier for life in 1502 by the Florentines, who
wished to give greater stability to their republican institutions,
which had been restored after the expulsion of Piero de' Medici
and the martyrdom of Savonarola. His rule proved moderate
and wise, although he had not the qualities of a great states-
man. He introduced a system of national militia in the place
of foreign mercenaries, and during his government the long
war with Pisa was brought to a close with the capture of that
city by the Florentines in 1509. Grateful to France, who had
assisted him, he always took the French side in Italian politics.
But in 1512 the Medici with the help of a Spanish army returned
to Florence, deposed Soderini and drove him into exile. He
took refuge at Ragusa in Dalmatia, where he remained until the
election of Pope Leo X., who summoned him to Rome and con-
ferred many favours on him. Soderini lived in Rome, working
for the good of Florence, to which he was never allowed to return,
until his death.
See Razzi, Vita di Pier Soderini (Padua, 1737), also the articles
FLORENCE and MEDICI.
SODERTELGE, a town of Sweden, in the district (Ian ) of
Stockholm, 23 m. W.S.W. of Stockholm by rail. Pop. (1900),
8,207. It is beautifully situated on a bay of Lake Malar, which
is here connected with the Baltic by the Sodertelge canal, i| m.
in length, with a minimum depth of 10 ft. This is on the route
followed by the Gota Canal steamers between Stockholm and
Gothenburg: it was opened in 1819, though a canal was begun
here in the first half of the isth century at the instigation of
the patriot Engelbrecht. The town contains an ancient church,
believed to date from c.iioo. Here and in the neighbourhood
are the residences of many of the business class of Stockholm;
and the town is in favour as a summer resort, having mineral
springs and baths. There are engineering shops producing
railway stock and motors, jute spinning and weaving mills, and
match and joinery works.
SODIUM [symbol Na, from Lat. natrium; atomic weight
23-00 (O=i6)], a chemical element belonging to the group
of alkali metals. It is abundantly and widely diffused in nature,
but always in combination. Sodium chloride, or common
salt (q.v.), is exceedingly common, being the chief salt present
in sea-water, besides occurring in extensive stratified deposits.
Sodium carbonates are also widely dispersed in nature, forming
constituents of many mineral waters, and occurring as prin-
cipal saline components in natron or trona lakes, as efflores-
cences in Lower Egypt, Persia and China, and as urao in
Mexico, Colombia and Venezuela. The solid crusts found at
the bottom of the salt lakes of the Araxes plain in Armenia
contain about 16% of carbonate and 80 of sulphate. In
Colombia there occurs a double salt, Na2CCVCaCCy5H2O, known
as gay-lussite. In Wyoming, California and Nevada enormous
deposits of carbonates, mixed in some cases with sulphate and
with chloride, occur. About Szegedin in Hungary and all over
the vast pusztas (steppes) between the Theiss and the Danube,
and from the Theiss up to and beyond Debreczin, the soil con-
tains sodium carbonate, which frequently assumes the form of
crude alkaline crusts, called " szekso," and of small saline
ponds. A purified specimen of such Debreczin soda was found
to contain as much as 90 % of real carbonate, NaCO3, and 4 of
common salt. Natural sulphate occurs in an anhydrous con-
dition as thenardite, Na2SO4, at Tarapaca, Chile, and in the
rock-salt deposits at Espartinas near Aranjuez, Spain. Hy-
drated sulphates occur at several localities in the province of
Madrid and in other provinces of Spain, and at Miihlingen in
Aargau, and copious deposits of glauberite, the double sulphate
of sodium and calcium, are met with in the salt-mines of Vil-
larrubia in Spain, at Stassfurt, and in the province of Tarapaca,
Chile, &c. A native nitrate of soda is obtained in great abund-
ance in the district of Atacama and the province of Tarapaca,
SODIUM
and is imported into Europe in enormous quantities as cubic
nitre for the preparation of saltpetre. Cryolite, a fluoride of
aluminium and sodium, is extensively mined in Greenland and
elsewhere for industrial purposes. These form the principal
natural sources of sodium compounds — the chloride as rock
salt and in sea-water being of such predominating importance
as quite to outweigh all the others. But it is questionable whether,
taken altogether, the mass of sodium they represent is as much
as that disseminated throughout the rocky crust in the form of
soda felspar (i.e. as silicate of soda) and in other soda-contain-
ing rocks. From this source all soils contain small proportions
of sodium in soluble forms, "hence the ashes of plants, although
they preferably imbibe potassium salts, contain traces and
sometimes notable quantities of sodium salts. Sodium salts
also form essential ingredients in all animal juices.
Although many sodium compounds have been known from very
remote times, the element was not isolated until 1807, when Sir
H. Davy obtained it by electrolysing caustic soda. This method
was followed by that proposed by Gay-Lussac and Thenard,
who decomposed molten caustic soda with red-hot iron; and this
in turn was succeeded by Brunner's process of igniting sodium
carbonate with charcoal. Deville made many improvements,
but the method remained wasteful and uneconomical, and in
1872 the metal cost 43. a pound. In 1886, however, Castner
replaced the carbonate by caustic soda, and materially cheapened
the cost of production; but this method was discarded for an
electrolytic one, patented by Castner in 1890. Electrolytic
processes had, in fact, been considered since 1851, when Charles
Watt patented his method for the production of sodium and
potassium from fused chlorides. Among the difficulties here to
be contended with are the destructive action of fused chlorides
and of the reduced alkali metals upon most non-metallic sub-
stances available for the containing vessel and its partition, and also
of the anode chlorine upon metals; also the low fusing-point
(95° C. for sodium, and 62° C. for potassium) and the low specific
gravity of the metals, so that the separated metal floats as a
fused layer upon the top of the melted salt. Again, pure
sodium chloride melts at about 775° C., while sodium boils
at 877° C., so that the margin of safety is but small if loss by
vaporization is to be prevented. Borchers endeavoured to con-
tend against the first difficulty by employing an iron cathode
vessel and a chamotte (fire-clay) anode chamber united by a
specially constructed water-cooled joint. The other difficulty
is to some extent met by using mixed chlorides (e.g. sodium,
potassium and strontium chlorides for sodium extraction), as
these melt at a lower temperature than the pure chloride. In
Castner's process (as employed at Oldbury and Niagara Falls and
in Germany) fused caustic soda is electrolysed. The apparatus
described in the patent specification is an iron cylinder heated
by gas rings below, with a narrower cylinder beneath, through
which passes upwards a stout iron cathode rod cemented in
place by caustic soda solidified in the narrower vessel. Iron
anodes are suspended around the cathode, and between the
two is a cylinder of iron gauze at the bottom with a sheet-iron
continuation above, the latter being provided with a movable
cover. During electrolysis, oxygen is evolved at the anode and
escapes from the outer vessel, while the sodium deposited in
globules on the cathode floats upwards into the iron cylinder,
within which it accumulates, and from which it may be re-
moved at intervals by means of a perforated iron ladle, the fused
salt, but not the metal, being able to pass freely through the
perforations. The sodium is then cast into moulds. Sodium
hydroxide has certain advantages compared with chloride,
although it is more costly; its fusing-point is only 320° C., and
no anode chlorine is produced, so that both containing vessel and
anode may be of iron, and no porous partition is necessary.
Metallic sodium possesses a silvery lustre, but on exposure
to moist air the surface is rapidly dulled by a layer of the
hydroxide. It may be obtained crystallized in the quadratic
system by melting in a sealed tube containing hydrogen, allowed
to cool partially, and then pouring off the still liquid portion
by inverting the tube. The specific gravity is 0-9735 at 13-5°
(Baumhauer). At ordinary temperatures the metal has the
consistency of wax and can be readily cut; on cooling it hardens.
On heating it melts at 95-6" (Bunsen) to a liquid resembling
mercury, and boils at 877-5° (Ruff and Johannsen, Ber., 1905,
38, p. 3601), yielding a vapour, colourless in thin layers but a
peculiar purple, with a greenish fluorescence, when viewed through
thick layers. (For the optics of sodium vapour see R. W. Wood,
Physical Optics.) According to A. Matthiessen, sodium ranks
fourth to silver, copper and gold as a conductor of electricity
and heat, and according to Bunsen it is the most electropositive
metal with the exception of caesium, rubidium and potassium.
The metal is very reactive chemically. Exposed to moist air
it rapidly oxidizes to the hydroxide; and it burns on heating in
air with a yellow flame, yielding the monoxide and dioxide.
A fragment thrown on the surface of water rapidly disengages
hydrogen, which gas, however, does not inflame, as happens with
potassium; but inflammation occurs if hot water be used, or if
the metal be dropped on moist filter paper. Sodium also
combines directly, sometimes very energetically, with most
non-metallic elements. It also combines with dry ammonia
at 300-400° to form sodamide, NaNHj, a white waxy mass when
pure, which melts at 155°. Heated in a current of carbon dioxide
sodamide yields caustic soda and cyanamide, and with nitrous
oxide it gives sodium azoimide; it deflagrates with lead or silver
nitrate and explodes with potassium chlorate. Sodamide was
introduced by Claisen (Ber., 1905, 38, p. 693) as a condensing
agent in organic chemistry, and has since been applied in many
directions. Sodium is largely employed in the manufacture
of cyanides and in reduction processes leading to the isolation
of such elements as magnesium, silicon, boron, aluminium
(formerly), &c.; it also finds application in organic chemistry.
With potassium it forms a liquid alloy resembling mercury,
which has been employed in high temperature thermometers
(see THERMOMETRY).
Compounds.
In its chemical combinations sodium is usually monovalent; its
salts are generally soluble in water, the least soluble being the
metantimonate.
Sodium hydride, NaH, is a crystalline substance obtained directly
from sodium and hydrogen at about 400". It burns when heated
in dry air, and ignites in moist air; it is decomposed by water, giving
caustic soda and hydrogen. Dry carbon dioxide is decomposed by
it, free carbon being produced; moist carbon dioxide, on the other
hand, gives sodium formate.
Several oxides are known. A suboxide, NasO, appears to be
formed as a grey mass when a clean surface of the metal is exposed
to air, or when pure air is passed through the metal just above its
melting point (De Forcrand, Compt. rend., 1898, 127, pp. 364, 514).
The monoxide, Na2O, is obtained by heating the metal above 180°
in a limited amount of slightly moist oxygen (Holt and Sims, Journ.
Chem. Soc., 1894, i. 442) ; it may also be prepared by heating
the nitrate or nitrite with metallic sodium, free nitrogen being
eliminated (German patent, 142467, 1902). It forms a grey mass,
which melts at a red heat and violently combines with water to
give the hydroxide. The hydroxide or caustic soda, NaOH, is
usually manufactured from the carbonate or by electrolysis of salt
solution (see ALKALI MANUFACTURE). When anhydrous it is a
colourless opaque solid which melts at 310°, and decomposes at
about 1100°. It is very soluble in water, yielding a strongly alkaline
solution; it also dissolves in alcohol. It absorbs moisture and
carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Several hydrates are known :
2NaOH'7H2O is obtained as large monoclinic crystals by cooling
a solution of specific gravity 1^365 to —8°; Pickering (Journ. Chem.
Soc., 1893, 65, p. 890) obtained NaOH-H2O from hot concentrated
solutions and NaOH-2H2O from a solution of the hydroxide in
968% alcohol. (See also De Forcrand, Compt. rend., 1901, 133,
p. 223.)
Sodium dioxide, Na2O2, is formed when the metal is heated in
an excess of air or oxygen. In practice the metal is placed on
aluminium trays traversing an iron tube heated to 300°, through
which a current of air, freed from moisture and carbon dioxide, is
passed; the process is made continuous, and the product contains
about 93 % NazC>2. When pure, sodium dioxide has a faint yellowish
tinge, but on exposure it whitens (W. R. Bousfield and T. M. Lowry,
Phil. Trans., 1905, A. 204, p. 253). When dissolved in water it yields
some NaOH and H2O2; on crystallizing a cold solution Na2O2-8H2O
separates as large tabular hexagonal crystals, which on drying over
sulphuric acid give Na2O2'2H2O; the former is also obtained by
precipitating a mixture of caustic soda and hydrogen peroxide
solutions with alcohol. Acids yield a sodium salt and free oxygen
or hydrogen peroxide ; with carbon dioxide it gives sodium carbonate
342
SODOM AND GOMORRAH
and free oxygen; carbon monoxide gives the carbonate; whilst
nitrous and nitric oxides give the nitrate. A solution in hydro-
chloric acid, consisting of the chloride and hydrogen peroxide, is
used for bleaching straw under the name of soda-bleach; with
calcium or magnesium chlorides this solution gives a solid product
which, when dissolved in water, is used for the same purpose (Castner,
Journ. Soc. Chem. Ind., 1893, p. 603). Sodium dioxide is chiefly
employed as an oxidizing agent, being used in mineral analysis and
in various organic preparations; it readily burns paper, wood, &c.,
but does not evolve oxygen unless heated to a high temperature.
Sodyl hydroxide, NaHC>2, exists in two forms: one, Na-O-OH,
obtained from hydrogen peroxide and sodium ethylate; the other,
O:Na-OH, from absolute alcohol and sodium peroxide at o°. They
are strong oxidizing agents and yield alkaline solutions which
readily evolve oxygen on heating. Sodium trioxide, NajOa, is said
to be formed from an excess of oxygen and a solution of sodam-
monium in liquid ammonia. Water decomposes it, giving oxygen
and the dioxide.
Generally speaking, sodium salts closely resemble the correspond-
ing potassium salts, and their methods of preparation are usually
the same. For sodium salts not mentioned below reference should
be made to articles wherein the acid is treated, unless otherwise
indicated.
Sodium combines directly with the halogens to form salts which
are soluble in water and crystallize in the cubic system. The
fluoride, NaF, is sparingly soluble in water (l part in 25). For the
chloride see SALT. The bromide and iodide crystallize from hot
solutions in anhydrous cubes; from solutions at ordinary tempera-
tures in monoclinic prisms with 2H2O; and at low temperatures
with sH2O. According to M. Loeb (Journ. Amer. Chem. Soc., 1905,
27, p. 1019) the iodide differs from the other haloid salts in separating
from solution in alcohols with " alcohol of crystallization." Sodium
sulphide, Na2S, obtained by saturating a caustic soda solution with
sulphuretted hydrogen and adding an equivalent of alkali, is em-
ployed in the manufacture of soluble soda glass. Sodium sulphite,
Na2SO3, which is employed as an antichlor, is prepared (with 7H2O)
by saturating a solution of sodium carbonate with sulphur dioxide,
adding another equivalent of carbonate and crystallizing. The
anhydrous salt may be prepared by heating a saturated solution
of the hydrated salt. H. Hartley and W. H. Barrett (Journ. Chem.
Soc., 1909, 95, p. 1184) failed to obtain a decahydrate which had
been previously described. The acid sulphite, NaHSOs, obtained
by saturating a cold solution of the carbonate with sulphur dioxide
and precipitating by alcohol, is employed for sterilizing beer casks.
Sodium sulphate, Na2SO«, known in the hydrated condition (with
ioH2O) as Glauber's salt, is manufactured in large quantities
for conversion into the carbonate or soda (see ALKALI MANUFAC-
TURE). It has long been doubted whether sodium yielded an alum;
this was settled by N. I. Surgunoff in 1909 (Abst. Journ. Chem. Soc.
ii. 1001), who obtained cubic crystals from a supersaturated solution
of sodium and aluminium sulphates below 20°, higher temperatures
giving monoclinic crystals. The acid sulphate, NaHSOj, also known
as bisulphate of soda, is obtained as large asymmetric prisms by__
crystallizing a solution of equivalent quantities of the normal
sulphate and sulphuric acid above 50". The acid salts Na3H(SO«)2
and Na3H(SO4)2-H2O are obtained from the normal sulphate and
sulphuric acid (J. D'Ans, Ber., 1906, 39, p. 1534).
The manufacture of sodium carbonate, commonly called soda,
is treated under ALKALI MANUFACTURE. The anhydrous salt is a
colourless powder or porous mass, having an alkaline taste and
reaction. It melts at 1008°. On solution in water, heat is evolved
and hydrates formed. Common washing soda or soda-crystals is
the decahydrate, Na2COa-ioH2O, which appears as large clear
monoclinic crystals. On exposure, it loses water and gives the
monohydrate, Na2CO3-HiO, a white powder sold as " crystal
carbonate "; this substance, which is also formed on heating the
decahydrate to 34°, crystallizes in the rhombic system. Both these
hydrates occur in the mineral kingdom, the former as natron and
the latter as thermpnatrite. The heptahydrate, Na2COs-7H2O, is
obtained by crystallizing a warm saturated solution in a vacuum; it
appears to be dimorphous. The acid carbonate or bicarbonate of
soda, NaHCOs, is produced in the ammonia-soda process for alkali
manufacture. Another acid carbonate, Na2COj-2NaHCO3-3H2O,
is the mineral trona or urao. We may here notice the " percar-
bonates " obtained by Wolffenstein and Peltner (Ber., 1908, 41,
pp. 275, 280) on acting with gaseous or solid carbon dioxide on
Na2O2, Na2Oj and NaHOz at low temperatures; the same authors
obtained a perborate by adding sodium metaborate solution to a 50 %
solution of sodium peroxide previously saturated with carbon dioxide.
For sodium nitrite see NITROGEN ; for sodium nitrate see SALTPETRE ;
for the cyanide see PRUSSIC ACID; and for the borate see BORAX.
Of the sodium silicates the most important is the mixture known
as soluble soda glass formed by calcining a mixture of white sand,
soda-ash and charcoal, or by dissolving silica in hot caustic soda
under pressure. It is a colourless transparent glass mass, which
dissolves in boiling water to form a thick liquid. It is employed in
certain printing processes, as a cement for artificial stone and for
mending glass, porcelain, &c., and also for making the so-called
silicated soaps (see SOAP).
Sodium is most distinctly recognized by the yellow coloration
which volatile salts impart to a Bunsen flame, or, better, by its
emission spectrum which has a line (double), the Fraunhofer D, line,
in the yellow (the wave-lengths are 5896 and 5890). The atomic
weight was determined by Stas to be 22-87 (H = i) ; T. W. Richards
and R. C. Wells (Journ. Amer. Chem. Soc., 1905, 27, p. 459) obtained
the value 23-006 (O = 16).
Medicine.
Pharmacology. — The metal sodium is not used in medicine, but
many of its salts are employed. Besides liquor sodii ethylatis the
following salts and preparations are used in the British Pharma-
copoeia, (i) Sodii carbonis, known as washing soda; this carbonate
on heating yields sodii carbonis exsiccaius and sodii bicarbonas; from
the latter is made trochiscus sodii bicarbonatis. (2) Sodii phosphas.
From sodium phosphate are made sodii phosphas effervescens and
sodii hypophosphis (see PHOSPHORUS). (3) Sodii sulphas (Glauber's
salt), with its sub-preparation sodii sulphas effervescens. (4) Soda
tartarata (Rochelle salt), a tartrate of sodium and potassium, from
which is made pulvis spdae tartaratae effervescens, known as Seidlitz
powder. (5) Sodii citro-tartras effervescens, a mixture of sugar,
sodium bicarbonate, citric and tartaric acids. (6) Sodii chloridum,
common salt. (7) Sodii sulphis.
For sodii bromidum, iodidum and salicylatum see BROMINE,
IODINE and SALICYLIC ACID respectively. For sodii arsenas and
cacodylate see ARSENIC. Sapo durus (hard soap) is a compound of
sodium with olive oil, and sapo animalis (curd soap) is chiefly sodium
stearate.
Toxicology. — Poisoning by caustic soda is rare, but occasionally
it takes place by swallowing soap lees (sodium carbonate), which
may contain some impurities of caustic soda. The symptoms and
treatment are the same as described under POTASSIUM. The salts
of sodium resemble potassium in their action on the alimentary
tract, but they are much more slowly absorbed, and much less
diffusible; therefore considerable amounts may reach the small
intestine and there act as saline purgatives. They are slowly
absorbed into the blood, and are a natural constituent of the blood
plasma, which derives them from the food. Sodium is excreted
by all the mucous surfaces and by the liver and kidneys. On the
latter they act as diuretics, but less powerfully than potassium,
increasing the flow of water and the output of urea and rendering the
urine less acid. They are said to diminish the secretion of the
bronchial mucous membrane.
Therapeutics: External Use. — The liquor sodii ethylatis is a
powerful caustic and is used to destroy small naevi and warts. A
lotion of sodium bicarbonate is useful to allay itching. Solutions
of sodium sulphite are used as mild antiparasitics. Internal use. —
Sodium chloride is occasionally used in warm water as an emetic,
and injections of it into the rectum as a treatment for thread worms.
A 0-9 % solution forms what is termed normal saline solution,
which is frequently injected into the tissues in cases of collapse,
haemorrhage and diarrhoea. It forms a valuable treatment in
.diabetic coma and^eclampsia, acting by diluting the toxins in the
blood. From this has developed the intramuscular injection of
diluted sea-water in the treatment of gastro-enteritis, anaemia and
various skin affections. Sodium chloride is an important constituent
of the waters of Homburg, Wiesbaden, Nauheim and Kissingen.
Sodium bicarbonate is one of our most useful gastric sedatives and
antacids, relieving pain in hyperchloridia. It is the constituent of
most stomachic mixtures. Effervescent soda water is a mild gastric
sedative. Sodium phosphate and sulphate are cholagogue purga-
tives and are used in the treatment of gallstones. The sulphate is
the chief constituent of Marienbad and Carlsbad waters. Large
doses of these salts are used to remove fluid in dropsy. Soda tar-
tarate is purgative and diuretic, as is the citro-tartarate. These
purgative sodium salts are most useful in the treatment of chronic
constipation, and of the constipation associated with gout and
hepatic dyspepsia. They should be dissolved in warm water and
taken in the morning, fasting. In visceral gout and chronic catarrhal
conditions of the stomach a course of alkaline waters is distinctly
beneficial. Sodium salts hare not the depressant effect so marked
in those of potassium.
SODOM AND GOMORRAH, in biblical geography, two of five
cities (the others named Admah, Zeboiim and Bela or Zoar)
which were together known as the " cities of the Kikkar "
(circle), somewhere in the neighbourhood of the Dead Sea.
They occupied a fertile region, chosen by Lot for his dwelling
(Gen. xiii. 10-12). They were attacked by the four great East-
ern kings and spoiled, but restored by the intervention of Abram
and his men coming to the aid of Lot (Gen. xiv.). They were
proverbial for wickedness, for which they were destroyed by a
rain of " fire and brimstone " (Gen. xix.). The site of the
cities, the historicity of the events narrated of them and the
nature of the catastrophe that destroyed them, are matters of
hot dispute. Modern names, more or less similar to the ancient
appellations, have been noted in different parts of the Dead
SODOMA, IL— SOEST
343
Sea area; but no certain identification can be based on these
similarities. The most striking coincidence is Jebel Usdum,
by some equated with confidence to Sodom. The names are
radically identical; but the hill is merely a salt-ridge 600 ft.
high and 7 m. long, and cannot possibly represent an ancient
city. The most that can be said is that the names have lingered
in the Jordan valley in a vague tradition — very likely helped by,
if not entirely due to, literary accounts of the catastrophe —
just as has the name of Lot himself in the Arab name of the
Dead Sea. The catastrophe has been explained as a volcanic
eruption, or an explosive outburst of gas and oil stored and
accumulating at high pressure. The latter, to which parallels
in geologically similar regions in America are not unknown,
is the most probable natural explanation that can be offered.
(R. A. S. M.)
SODOMA, IL (1477-1549), the name given to the Italian
painter Giovanni Antonio Bazzi (who until recent years was
erroneously named Razzi). He is said to have borne also the
name of " Sodona " as a family name, and likewise the name
Tizzioni; Sodona is signed upon some of his pictures. While
" Bazzi " was corrupted into " Razzi," " Sodona " may have
been corrupted into "Sodoma"; Vasari, however, accounted
for the name differently, as a nickname from his personal char-
acter. This version appears to have been inspired by Bazzi's
pupil and subsequent rival Beccafumi. In R. H. Gust's recent
work on the painter another suggestion is made. Vasari tells
a story that, Bazzi's horse having won a race at Florence,
a cry of "Who is the owner?" went up, and Bazzi contemptu-
ously answered " Sodoma," in order to insult the Florentines
(according to Milanesi) ; and Mr Gust offers the suggestion of the
Italian friend, that the racing name was really a clipped form of
So doma, " I am the trainer." Whatever the real origin, the
name was long supposed to indicate an immoral character.
Bazzi was of the family de Bazis, and was born at Vercelli
in Lombardy in 1477. His first master was Martino Spanzotto,
by whom one signed picture is known; and he appears to have
been in his native place a scholar of the painter Giovenone.
Acquiring thus the strong colouring and other distinctive marks
of the Lombard school, he was brought to Siena towards the
close of the isth century by some agents of the Spannocchi
family; and, as the bulk of his professional life was passed in
this Tuscan city, he counts as a member of the Sienese school,
although not strictly affined to it in point of style. He does not
seem to have been a steady of .laborious student in Siena, apart
from some attention which he bestowed upon the sculptures
of Jacopo della Quercia. Along with Pinturicchio, he was
one of the first to establish there the matured style of the
Cinquecento. His earliest works of repute are seventeen frescoes
in the Benedictine monastery of Monte Oliveto, on the road
from Siena to Rome, illustrating the life of St Benedict, in con-
tinuation of the series which Luca Signorelli had begun in 1498;
Bazzi completed the set in 1502. Hence he was invited to Rome
by the celebrated Sienese merchant Agostino Chigi, and was
employed by Pope Julius II. in the Camera della Segnatura in the
Vatican. He executed two great compositions and various
ornaments and grotesques. The latter are still extant; but the
larger works did not satisfy the pope, who engaged Raphael to
substitute his " Justice," " Poetry," and " Theology." In
the Chigi Palace (now Farnesina) Bazzi painted some subjects
from the life of Alexander the Great; "Alexander in the Tent of
Darius " and the " Nuptials of the Conqueror with Roxana " (by
some considered his masterpiece) are more particularly noticed.
When Leo X. was made pope (1513) Bazzi presented him with
a picture of the " Death of Lucretia " (or of Cleopatra, according
to some accounts) ; Leo gave him a large sum of money in recom-
pense and created him a cavaliere. Bazzi afterwards returned to
Siena and at a later date went in quest of work to Pisa, Vol-
terra, and Lucca. From Lucca he returned to Siena, not long
before his death, which took place on the I4th of February 1549
(the older narratives say 1554). He had squandered his pro-
perty and is said (rather dubiously) to have died in penury in
the great hospital of Siena. Bazzi had married in youth a lady
of good position, but the spouses disagreed and separated pretty
soon afterwards. A daughter of theirs married Bartolommeo
Neroni, named also Riccio Sanese or Maestro Riccio, one of
Bazzi's principal pupils.
It is said that Bazz! jeered at the History of the Painters written
by Vasari, and that Vasari consequently traduced him ; certainly
he gives a bad account of Bazzi's morals and demeanour, and is
niggardly towards the merits of his art. According to Vasari, the
ordinary name by which Bazzi was known was " II Mattaccio "
(the Madcap, the Maniac) — this epithet being first bestowed upon
him by the monks of Monte Oliveto. He dressed gaudily, like a
mountebank; his house was a perfect Noah's ark, owing to the
strange miscellany of animals which he kept there. He was a
cracker of jokes and fond of music, and sang some poems composed
by himself on indecorous subjects. In his art Vasari alleges that
Bazzi was always negligent — his early success in Siena, where he
painted many portraits, being partly due to want of competition.
As he advanced in age he became too lazy to make any cartoons
for his frescoes, but daubed them straight off upon the wall. Vasari
admits, nevertheless, that Bazzi produced at intervals some works
of very fine quality, and during his lifetime his reputation stood high.
The general verdict is that Bazzi was an able master in expression,
motion and colour. His taste was something like that of Da Vinci,
especially in the figures of women, which have grace, sweetness and
uncommon earnestness. He is not eminent for drawing, grouping
or general elegance of form. His easel pictures are rare ; there are
two in the National Gallery in London.
It is uncertain whether Bazzi was a pupil of Leonardo da Vinci,
though Morelli (in his Italian Pictures in German Galleries) speaks
.of his having " only ripened into an artist during the two years
(1498-1500) he spent at Milan with Leonardo"; and some critics
see in Bazzi's " Madonna " in the Brera (if it is really by Bazzi) the
direct influence of this master. Modern criticism follows Morelli
in supposing that Raphael painted Bazzi's portrait in " The School
of Athens"; and a drawing at Christ Church is supposed to be a
portrait of Raphael by Bazzi.
His most celebrated works are in Siena. In S. Domenico, in the
chapel of St Catherine of Siena, are two frescoes painted in 1526,
showing Catherine in ecstasy, and fainting as she is about to receive
the Eucharist from an angel — a beautiful and pathetic treatment.
In the oratory of S. Bernardino, scenes from the history of the
Madonna, painted by Bazzi in conjunction with Pacchia and Becca-
fumi (1536-1538) — the " Visitation " and the " Assumption " —
are noticeable. In S. Francesco are the " Deposition from the
Cross " (1513) and " Christ Scourged " ; by many critics one or other
of these paintings is regarded as Bazzi's masterpiece. In the choir
of the cathedral at Pisa is the " Sacrifice of Abraham," and in the
Uffizi Gallery of Florence as " St Sebastien."
See for further details, Giovanni Antonio Bazzi, by Robert H.
Hobart Cust (1906), which contains a full bibliography. (W. M. R.)
SODOR AND MAN, the name of the bishopric of the Church
of England which includes the Isle of Man and adjacent islets.
In 1154 the diocese of Sodor was formed to include the Heb-
rides and other islands west of Scotland (Norse Sudr-eyjar,
Sudreys, or southern isles, in distinction from Nordr-eyjar, the
northern isles of Orkney and Shetland) and the Isle of Man.
It was in the archdiocese of Trondhjem in Norway. (The con-
nexion of the Isle of Man with Norway is considered 5.11. MAN,
ISLE OF.) A Norwegian diocese of Sodor had been in existence
previously, but its history is obscure, and the first union of Man
with it in 1098 by Magnus Barefoot is only traditional. The
Norwegian connexion was broken in 1266, and in 1334 Man was
detached from the Scottish islands. The cathedral of Sodor
was on St Patrick's Isle at Peel (?.».), and it is possible that the
name Sodor being lost, its meaning was applied to the isle as
the seat of the bishop. The termination " and Man " seems to
have been added in the i7th century by a legal draughtsman
ignorant of the proper application of the name of Sodor to the
bishopric of Man. By the latter part of the i6th century the
terms Sodor and Man had become interchangeable, the bishopric
being spoken of as that of Sodor or Man. Till 1604 the bishops
invariably signed themselves Sodorensis; after that date and
till 1684, sometimes Soderensis and sometimes " Sodor and
Man," and after 1684 always " Sodor and Man." The see,
while for some purposes in the archdiocese of York, has its own
convocation. The bishop sits in the House of Lords, but has
no vote.
See A. W. Moore, History of the Isle of Man (London, 1900).
SOEST, a town of Germany, in the Prussian province of
Westphalia, situated in a fertile plain (Soester Borde), 33 m. E.
344
SOFA— SOFIA
of Dortmund, on the main railway Cologne-Elberfeld-Berlin.
Pop. (1905), 17,394. Its early importance is attested by its seven
fine churches (six Protestant), of which the most striking are
St Peter's, the Wiesenkirche, a gem of Gothic architecture,
Maria zur Hohe — St Mary-on-the-height — with beautiful mural
frescoes, founded in 1314 and restored in 1850-1852, and the
Roman Catholic cathedral, founded in the loth century by
Bruno, brother of Otto the Great (the present building was
erected in the rath century). This last, with its very original
facade, is one of the noblest ecclesiastical monuments of Germany.
Remains of the broad wall, now partly enclosing gardens and
fields, and one of the gates remain; but the thirty-six strong
towers which once defended the town have disappeared and the
moats have been converted into promenades. The town-hall
(1701) contains valuable archives, and among the numerous
educational establishments must be mentioned the gymnasium,
founded in 1534, through the instrumentality of Melanchthon,
an evangelical teachers' seminary, an agricultural school,
and a blind asylum. Iron-working, the manufacture of soap,
hats, sugar, cigars, bricks and tiles, linen-weaving, tanning
and brewing, together with market-gardening and farming
in the neighbourhood, and trade in cattle and grain are the
leading industries.
Mentioned in documents as early as the gth century, Soest
was one of the largest and most important Hanseatic towns in
the middle ages, with a population estimated at from 30,000'
to 60,000. It was one of the chief emporiums on the early
trading route between Westphalia and Lower Saxony. Its
code of municipal laws (Schran; jus susatense), dating from
1144 to 1165, was one of the earliest and best, and served as
a model even to Liibeck. On the fall of Henry the Lion,
duke of Saxony, Soest passed with the rest of Angria to'
Cologne. In the isth century the strife between the towns-
men and the archbishops broke out in open war, and in
1444 the strong fortifications of the town withstood a long
siege by an army of 60,000 men. The women of Soest are said
to have distinguished themselves in this contest (Soester Fehde).
Papal intervention ended the strife, and Soest was permitted to
remain under the protection of the dukes of Cleves. The
prosperity of the town waned in more modern times: in 1763 its
population was only 3800; in 1816 it was 6687.
See Vogeler, Soest, seine Altertiimer und Sehenswiirdigkeiten
(Soest, 1890); Hausberg, Die soester Fehde (Trier, 1882); Summer-
mann, Die Wandmalereien in der Kirche Maria zur Hohe in Soest
(Soest, 1890) ; Aldenkirchen, Die'mittelalterliche Kunst in Soest (Bonn,
1875) ; Ludorff und Vogeler, Kunstdenkmdler des Kreises Soest (Soest,
1905)-
SOFA, a long couch with stuffed back, arms and seat, to hold
two or more persons. The word is of Arabic origin, and is an
adaptation of suffah, couch, from root saffa — to draw up in line.
According to Richardson, Diet, of Eng. Lang, quoted by Skeat,
the Arabic suffah was particularly a reclining place of wood or
stone placed before the doors of Oriental houses. In the history
of furniture the sofa was a development of the straight backed
settee. It was not so much therefore a long chair or combination
of chairs, as a seat or couch for reclining. The early igth-
century type had a back with a single arm at one end, the other
being left open. The most favoured modern form is that known
as the Chesterfield, with double arms and back, heavily padded.
(See also SETTEE.)
SOFALA, a Portuguese seaport on the east coast of Africa,
at the mouth of a river of the same name, in 20° 12' S. Pop,
(1900), about 1000. The town possesses scarcely a trace of its
former importance, and what trade it had was nearly all taken
away by the establishment of Beira (q.v.) a little to the north in
1890. Sofala Harbour, once capable of holding a hundred large
vessels, is silting up and is obstructed by a bar. Ruins exist
of the strong fort built by the Portuguese in the i6th century.
Previous to its conquest by the Portuguese in 1505 Sofala
was the chief town of a wealthy Mahommedan state, Arabs
having established themselves there in the I2th century or
earlier. At one time it formed part of the sultanate of
Kilwa (q.v.). Sofala was visited by the Portuguese Jew, Pero
de Covilhao, in 1489, who was attracted thither by the reports of
gold-mines of which Sofala was the port. The conquest of the
town followed, the first governors of the Portuguese East African
possessions being entitled Captains-General of Sofala. (See
PORTUGUESE EAST AFRICA.) Thome Lopes, who accompanied
Vasco da Gama to India in 1 502 and left a narrative of the voyage
(first printed in Ramusio, Viaggi e Navegationi), identifies Sofala
with Solomon's Ophir and states that it was the home of the
Queen of Sheba. This identification of Sofala with Ophir, to
which Milton alludes (Par. Lost, xi. 399-401) is untenable.
The small island of Chiloane, with a good harbour, 40 m. S.
of Sofala, has been colonized from Sofala (the township being
named Chingune) as has also the island Santa Carolina, in the
Bazaruto archipelago.
See Bull. Geogr. Soc. Mozambique (1882) for an account of the
Sofala mines; and, generally, Idrisi, Climate, i. § 8, O. Dapper,
Description de I'Afrique (Amsterdam, 1686) ; T. Baines, The Gold
Regions of South Africa (1877); G. McC. Theal's Records of South
Eastern Africa (1898-1903); Sir R. Burton's notes to his edition of
Camoens.
SOFFIONI (sometimes spelt suffioni), a name applied in
Italy to certain volcanic vents which emit jets of steam,
generally associated with hydrogen sulphide and carbon dioxide,
sometimes also with a little ammonia and marsh-gas. The
soffioni are usually arranged in groups, and are best represented
in the Maremma of Tuscany, where they contain a small pro-
portion of boric acid, for which they are utilized industrially.
For such natural steam-holes, the French geologists often use
the term soufflards in place of the Italian soffioni.
SOFFIT (from Fr. soffite, Ital. sqffitta, a ceiling, formed as
if from suffictus for suffixus, Lat. suffigere, to fix underneath),
a term in architecture given to the underside of any construc-
tional feature; as for instance that of an arch or an architrave
whether supported by piers or columns; also to the underside
of a flight of stairs, and in the classic entablature to the under-
side of the projecting cornice.
SOFIA (Bulgarian Sredetz, the middle town, a name now
little used), the capital of Bulgaria, situated almost in the
centre of an upland plain, about 1700 ft. above sea-level, between
the Western Balkans on the N. and Mt Vitosh on the S.
Pop. (1907) 82,187. Two small tributaries of the river Isker,
the Perlovetz and the Eleshnitza or Boyana, flow respectively
on the east and west sides of the town. Since 1880 the city
has been almost entirely renovated in the " European " style;
the narrow tortuous lanes and mean houses of the Turkish
epoch have almost disappeared, and a new town with straight
parallel streets has been constructed in the eastern suburb.
The oldest building in Sofia is the little round chapel of St
George in the Jewish quarter — originally, it is said, a Roman
temple; then a church, then a mosque, and now a church once
more. Of the principal mosques the large Buyuk Djamia, with
nine metal cupolas, has become the National Museum; the
Tcherna Djamia or Black Mosque, latterly used as a prison,
has been transformed into a handsome church; the Banya-
bashi Djamia, with its picturesque minaret, is still used by
Moslem worshippers. Close to the last-named in the centre
of the town, are the public baths with hot springs (temperature
117° F). In the cathedral or church of Sveti Krai (the Saint
King), a modern building, are preserved the remains of the
Servian king Stefan Urosh II. A large new cathedral dedicated
to St Alexander Nevski was in course of construction in 1907;
the foundation stone was taken from the church of St Sophia.
The palace of the prince, occupying the site of the Turkish konak
was built by Prince Alexander in 1880-1882; it has been greatly
enlarged by King Ferdinand. In front of the palace is the
public garden or Alexander Park. The theatre, the largest in
south-eastern Europe, was completed in 1906. Other important
buildings are the Sobranye, or parliament house, the palace
of the synod, the ministries of war and commerce, the univer-
sity with the national printing press, the national library, the
officers' club and several large military structures. A small
SOGDIANA— SOIL
345
mausoleum contains the remains of Prince Alexander; there are
monuments to the tsar Alexander II., to Russia, to the medical
officers who fell in the war of 1877 and to the patriot Levsky.
A public park has been laid out in the eastern suburbs. The
city is well drained and possesses a good water supply; it is
lighted by electricity and has an electric car system. It con-
tains breweries, tanneries, sugar, tobacco, cloth, and silk fac-
tories, and exports skins, cloth, cocoons, cereals, attar of roses,
dried fruit, &c. Sofia forms the centre of a railway system
radiating to Constantinople (300 m.), Belgrade (206 m.)
and central Europe, Varna, Rustchuk and the Danube, and
Kiustendil near the Macedonian frontier. The climate is
healthy; owing to the elevated situation it is somewhat cold,
and is liable to sudden diurnal and seasonal changes; the tem-
perature in January sometimes falls to 4° F. below zero and in
August rises to 100°. The population, of which more than two-
thirds are Bulgarians,, and about one-sixth Spanish Jews, was
20,501 in 1881, 30,428 in 1888, 46,593 in 1893 and 82,187 in 1907.
History. — The colony of Serdica, founded here by the emperor
Trajan, became a Roman provincial town of considerable
importance in the 3rd and 4th centuries A.D., and was a favourite
residence of Constantine the Great. Serdica was burnt by the
Huns in A.D. 447; few traces remain of the Roman city, but
more than one hundred types of its coins attest its importance.
The town was taken by the Bulgarians under Krum in A.D. 809;
the name Serdica was converted into Sredetz by the Slavs,
who associated it with sreda (middle), and the Slavonic
form subsequently became the Byzantine Triaditza. The
name Sofia, which came into use towards the end of the i4th
century is derived from the early medieval church of St Sophia,
the massive ruins of which stand on an eminence to the east
of the town. The church, which was converted into a mosque
by the Turks, was partly destroyed by earthquakes in 1818
and 1858. The town successfully resisted the attacks of the
emperor Basil II. in 987; between 1018 and 1186, under Byzan-
tine rule, it served as a frontier fortress. During this period
a number of prisoners of the Petcheneg tribe were settled in
the neighbourhood, in all probability the ancestors of the Shop
tribe which now inhabits the surrounding districts. In 1382
Sofia was captured by the Turks; in 1443 it was for a brief time
occupied by the Hungarians under John Hunyady. Under
Turkish rule the city was for nearly four centuries the residence
of the beylerbey or governor-general of the whole Balkan
Peninsula except Bosnia and the Morea. During this period
the population increased and became mainly Turkish; in 1553
the town possessed eleven large and one hundred small mosques.
In the latter half of the isth century Sofia, owing to its situation
at the junction of several trade routes, became an important
centre of Ragusan commerce. During the Turco-Russian
campaign of 1829 it was the headquarters of Mustafa Pasha
of Skodra, and was occupied by the Russians for a few days.
On the 4th of January 1878 a Russian army again entered Sofia
after the passage of the Balkans by Gourko; the bulk of the
Turkish population had previously taken flight. Though less
central than Philippopolis and less renowned in Bulgarian
history than Trnovo, Sofia as selected as the capital of the
newly-created Bulgarian state in view of its strategical position,
which commands the routes to Constantinople, Belgrade,
Macedonia and the Danube. (J. D. B.)
SOGDIANA (Sugdiane, O. Pers. Sughuda), a province of the
Achaemenian Empire, the eighteenth in the list in the Behistun
inscription of Darius (i. 16), corresponding to the modern
districts of Samarkand and Bokhara; it lay north of Bactriana
between the Oxus and the Jaxartes, and embraced the fertile
valley of the Zerafshan (anc. Poly timetus) . Under the Greeks
Sogdiana was united in one satrapy with Bactria, and subse-
quently it formed part of the Bactrian Greek kingdom till the
Scythians (see SCYTHIA) occupied it in the middle of the 2nd
century B.C. The valley of the Zerafshan about Samarkand
retained even in the middle ages the name of the Soghd of
Samarkand. Arabic geographers reckon it as one of the four
fairest districts in the world.
SOGNE FJORD, a great inlet of the west coast of Norway,
penetrating the mainland to a distance of 136 m. It is the
longest fjord in Norway, and the deepest, approaching 700
fathoms in some parts. Sognefest at its entrance is 50 m.
by water from Bergen, in 61° 5' N. The general direction
from the sea is easterly. For the first 50 m. the sombre
flanking mountains are unbroken by any considerable branch,
but from this point several deep, narrow inlets ramify, penetrat-
ing the Jostedalsbrae and Jotunfjeld to the north and the north-
ward extension of the Hardangerfjeld to the south, walled in
at their heads by snow-clad mountains and frequented by
travellers on account of the magnificent scenery. The principal
are Fjaerlands, Sogndals and Lyster fjords to the north, Aardals
fjord to the east, Laerdals and Aurlands fjords to the south.
From the last branches the Naero fjord, with a [precipitous
valley of great beauty (Naerb'dalen) at its head, traversed by a
road, from Gudvangen on the fjord, across the Stalheim Pass to
Vossevangen. The other principal villages are Vadheim on the
outer fjord, the terminus of the road from Nordfjord; BaLholm
and Fjaerland (centres for visiting the fine glaciers of Jostedal) ;
Lekanger, Sogndal, and Laerdalsoren, whence a road strikes
south-east for the Valders and Hallingdal districts.
SOHAM, a town in the Newmarket parliamentary division
of Cambridgeshire, England, 5 m. S.E. of Ely by a branch
of the Great Eastern railway. Pop. (1901), 4230. It lies in
the midst of the flat fen country. To the west a rich tract,
still known as Soham Mere, marks the place of one of the many
wide and shallow sheets of water in the district now drained.
The church of St Andrew is cruciform and had formerly a central
tower; the existing western tower is of fine and ornate Perpendi-
cular work. The body of the church, however, is mainly transi-
tional Norman with additions principally Decorated, including
a beautiful east window, much ancient woodwork, and other
details of interest. The grammar school dates from 1687. The
road from Soham to Ely was constructed as a causeway across
the fens by Hervey le Breton, first bishop of Ely (1109-1131).
The trade of the town is agricultural, fruit-growing and market-
gardening being largely carried on in the vicinity.
SOIGNIES (or SOIGNES, the Walloon form), a busy and flourish-
ing town of the province of Hainaut, owing its prosperity to
the important blue granite quarries in the neighbourhood.
It contains a fine abbey church of the i2th century and in the
cemetery connected with it are many tombstones of the I3th
and i4th centuries. Pop. (1904), 10,480.
The forest of Soignies extended in the middle ages over the
southern part of Brabant up to the walls of Brussels, and is
immortalized in Byron's Childe Harold. Originally it was part
of the Ardenne forest, and even at the time of the French Revolu-
tion it was very extensive. The first blow towards its gradual
contraction was struck when Napoleon ordered 22,000 oaks
to be cut down in it to build the celebrated Boulogne flotilla
for the invasion of England. King William I. of the Netherlands
continued the process in the belief that he was thus adding
to the prosperity of the country, and from 29,000 acres in 1820
the forest was reduced to 11,200 in 1830. A considerable
portion of the forest in the neighbourhood of Waterloo was
assigned in 1815 to the duke of Wellington, and to the holder
of the title as long as it endured. This portion of the forest
was only converted into farms in the time of the second duke.
The Bois de la Cambre (456 acres) on the outskirts of Brussels
was formed out of the forest, and beyond it stretches the Foret
de Soignies, still so called, to Tervueren, Groenendael, and
Argenteuil close to Mont Saint Jean and Waterloo.
SOIL,1 the term generally applied to that part of the earth's
1 This word comes through O. Fr. soil from a Late Latin usage of
solea for soil or ground, which in classic Lat. meant the sole of the
foot, also a sandal. This was due to a confusion with solum, ground,
whence Fr. sol. Both solea and solum are, of course, from the same
root. To be distinguished from this word is " soil," to make dirty,
to stain, defile. The origin is the O. Fr. soil or souil, the miry
wallowing ground of a wild boar, whence the hunting phrase " to
take soil," of a beast of the chase taking to water or marshy
ground. The derivation is therefore from Lat. soillus, pertaining to
34-6
SOIL
substance which is stirred or tilled by implements such as ploughs
and spades. Below this is the subsoil. The soil through being
acted upon by the air, heat, frost and other agencies usually
consists of finer particles than those comprising the bulk of the
subsoil. It contains more roots, and as a rule, is darker in
colour than the subsoil on account of the larger proportion
of decaying vegetable matter present in it: it is also looser in
texture than the subsoil. The subsoil not unfrequently contains
materials which are deleterious to the growth of crops, and roots
descending into it may absorb and convey these poisonous
substances to other parts of the plant or be themselves damaged
by contact with them. On this account deeper tillage than
usual, which allows of easier penetration of roots, or the carrying
out of operations which bring the subsoil to the surface, must
always be carefully considered.
At first sight few natural materials appear to be of less interest
than the soil; yet its importance is manifest on the slightest
reflection. From it, directly or indirectly, are obtained all food
materials needed by man and beast. The inorganic materials
within it supply some of the chief substances utilized by plants
for their development and growth, and from plants animals
obtain much of their sustenance.
Origin of the Soil. — It is a matter of common observation
that stones of monuments, walls or buildings which are exposed
to the air sooner or later become eaten away or broken up into
small fragments under the influence of the weather. This
disintegration is brought about chiefly by changes in tempera-
ture, and by the action of the rain, the oxygen, and the carbon
dioxide of the air. During the daytime the surface of the stone
may become very warm, while at night it is speedily cooled.
Such alterations in temperature produce strains which frequently
result in the chipping off of small fragments of the material
composing the stone. Moreover the rain penetrates into the
small interstices between its particles and dissolves out some
of the materials which bind the whole into a solid stone, the
surface then becoming a loose powdery mass which falls to the
ground below or is carried away by the wind. The action of
frost is also very destructive to many stones, since the water
within their cracks and crannies expands on freezing and splits
off small pieces from their surfaces. In the case of lime-
stones the carbon dioxide of the air in association with rain
and dew eats into them and leads to their disintegration. The
oxygen of the air may also bring about chemical changes which
result in the production of soluble substances removable by
rain, the insoluble parts being left in a loosened state.
These " weathering " agents not only act upon stones of
buildings, but upon rocks of all kinds, reducing them sooner or
later into a more or less fine powder. The work has been going
on for ages, and the finely comminuted particles of rocks form
the main bulk of the soil which covers much of the earth's
surface, the rest of the soil being composed chiefly of the remains
of roots and other parts of plants.
If the whole of the soil in the British Islands were swept into
the sea and the rocks beneath it laid bare the surface of the
country would ultimately become covered again with soil
produced from the rocks by the weathering processes just
described. Moreover where there was no transport or solution
of the soil thus produced it would necessarily show some simil-
arity in composition to the rock on which it rested. The soils
overlying red sandstone rocks would be reddish and of a sandy
nature, while those overlying chalk would be whitish and contain
considerable amounts of lime. In many parts of the country
soils exhibiting such relationships, and known as sedentary
soils, are prevalent, the transition from the soil to the rock
beneath being plainly visible in sections exposed to view in
railway cuttings, quarries and other excavations. The upper
layer or soil proper consists of material which has been subjected
swine, sus. " To sully," to besmirch, to cover with " mire " (O. Eng.
sol. cf. Ger. suhlen) is a quite distinct word. Lastly there is a
form " soil," used by agriculturists, of the feeding and fattening of
cattle with green food such as vetches. This is from O. Fr. saoler,
saouler, mod. souler, Lat. 'satullus, full-fed (satur, satiated, satis,
enough).
to ages of weathering; the bulk of it is composed of finely
comminuted particles of sand, clay and other minerals, among
which are imbedded larger or smaller stones of more refractory
nature. On descending into the substratum the finer material
decreases and more stones are met with; farther down are seen
larger fragments of unaltered rock closely packed, and this
brash or rubble grades insensibly into the unbroken rock
below.
In many districts the soil is manifestly unconnected in origin
with the rock on which it rests, and differs from it in colour,
composition and other characters. There are transported or
drift soils, the particles of which have been brought from other
areas and deposited over the rocks below. Some of the stiff
boulder clays or " till " so prevalent over parts of the north of
England appear to have been deposited from ice sheets during
the glacial period. Perhaps the majority of drift soils, however,
have been moved to their present position by the action of .the
water of rivers or the sea.
As fast as the rock of a cliff is weathered its fragments are
washed to the ground by the rain, and carried down the slopes
by small streams, ultimately finding their way into a river along
which they are carried until the force of the water is insufficient
to keep them in suspension, when they become deposited in the
river bed or along its banks. Such river-transported material
or alluvium is common in all river valleys. It is often of very
mixed origin, being derived from the detritus of many kinds
of rocks, and usually forms soil of a fertile character.
Quality of Soil. — The good or bad qualities of a soil have
reference to the needs of the crops which are to be grown upon it,
and it is only after a consideration of the requirements of plants
that a clear conception can be formed of what characters the
soil must possess for it to be a suitable medium on which healthy
crops can be raised.
In the first place, soil, to be of any use, must be sufficiently
loose and porous to allow the roots of plants to grow and extend
freely. It may be so compact that root development is checked
or stopped altogether, in which case the plant suffers. On the
other hand it should not be too open in texture or the roots
do not get a proper hold of the ground and are easily disturbed
by wind: moreover such soils are liable to blow away, leaving
the underground parts exposed to the air and drought.
The roots like all other parts of plants contain protoplasm
or living material, which cannot carry on its functions unless
it is supplied with an adequate amount of oxygen: hence the
necessity for the continuous circulation of fresh air through the
soil. If the latter is too compact or has its interstices filled with
carbon dioxide gas or with water — as is the case when the ground
is water-logged — the roots rapidly die of suffocation just as
would an animal under the same conditions. There is another
point which requires attention. Plants need very considerable
amounts of water for their nutrition and growth; the water-
holding capacity is, therefore, important. If the soil holds too
much it becomes water-logged and its temperature falls below
the point for healthy growth, at any rate of the kinds of plants
usually cultivated on farms and in gardens. If it 'allows of too
free drainage drought sets in and the plants, not getting
enough water for their needs, become stunted in size. Too
much water is bad, and too little is equally injurious.
In addition, the temperature of the soil largely controls the
yield of crops which can be obtained from the land. Soil whose
temperature remains low, whether from its northerly aspect or
from its high water content or other cause, is unsatisfactory,
because the germination of seeds and the general life processes
of plants cannot go on satisfactorily except at certain tempera-
tures well above freezing-point.
A good soil should be deep to allow of extensive root develop-
ment and, in the case of arable soils, easy to work with imple-
ments. Even when all the conditions above mentioned in regard
to texture, water-holding capacity, aeration and temperature
are suitably fulfilled the soil may still be barren: plant food-
material is needed. This is usually present in abundance
although it may not be available to the plant under certain
SOIL
347
circumstances, or may need to be replenished or increased
by additions to the soil of manures or fertilizers (see MANURE).
Chief Constituents of the Soil. — An examination of the soil shows
it to be composed of a vast number of small particles of sand, clay,
chalk and humus, in which are generally imbedded larger or smaller
stones. It will be useful to consider the nature of the four chief
constituents just mentioned and their bearing upon the texture,
water-holding capacity and other characters which were referred
to in the previous section.
Sand consists of grains of quartz or flint, the individual particles
of which are large enough to be seen with the unaided eye or readily
felt as gritty grains when rubbed between the finger and thumb.
When a little soil is shaken up with water in a tumbler the sand
particles rapidly fall to the bottom and form a layer which resembles
ordinary sand of the seashore or river banks. Chemically pure sand
is silicon dioxide (SiO2) or quartz, a clear transparent glass-like
mineral, but as ordinarily met with, it is more or less impure and
generally coloured reddish or yellowish by oxide of iron. A soil
consisting of sand entirely would be very loose, would have little
capacity to retain water, would be liable to become very hot in the
daytime and cool at night and would be quite unsuitable for growth
of plants.
The term clay is often used by chemists to denote hydrated silicate
of alumina (AliO3-2SiO2-2H2O), of which kaolin or china clay is a
fairly pure form. This substance is present in practically all soils
but in comparatively small amounts. Even in the soils which
farmers speak of as stiff clays it is rarely present to the extent of
more than I or 2%. The word "clay" used in the agricultural
sense denotes a sticky intractable material which is found to consist
of exceedingly fine particles (generally less than -005 mm. in dia-
meter) of sand and other minerals derived from the decomposition
of rocks, with a small amount of silicate of alumina. The peculiar
character which clay possesses is probably due not to its chemical
composition but to its physical state. When wet it becomes sticky
and almost impossible to move or work with farm implements;
neither air nor water can penetrate freely. In a dry state it becomes
hard and bakes to a brick. It holds water well and is consequently
cold, needing the application of much heat to raise its temperature.
It is obvious, therefore, that soil composed entirely of clay is as
useless as pure sand so far as the growth of crops upon it is concerned.
Chalk consists, when quite pure, of calcium carbonate (CaCOs),
a white solid substance useful in small amounts as a plant food-
material, though in excess detrimental to growth. Alone, even
when broken up into small pieces, it is unsuitable for the growth of
plants.
Humus, the remaining constituent of soil, is the term used for the
decaying vegetable and animal matter in the soil. A good illustra-
tion of it is peat. Its water-holding capacity is great, but it is
often acid, and when dry it is light and incapable ofsupporting the
roots of plants properly. Few of the commonly cultivated crops
can live in a soil consisting mainly of humus.
From the above account it will be understood that not one of
the four chief soil constituents is in itself of value for the growth of
crops, yet when they are mixed, as they usually are in the soils
met with in nature, one corrects the deficiencies of the other. A
perfect soil would be such a blend of sand, clay, chalk and humus
as would contain sufficient clay and humus to prevent drought,
enough sand to render it pervious to fresh air and prevent water-
logging, chalk enough to correct the tendency to acidity of the humus
present, and would have within it various substances which would
serve as food-materials to the crops.
Generally speaking, soils containing from 30 to 50% of clay and
50 to 60% of sand with an adequate amount of vegetable residues
prove the most useful for ordinary farm and garden crops; such
blends are known as " loams," those in which clay predominates
being termed clay loams, and those in which the sand predominates
sandy loams. ''Stiff clays" contain over 50% of clay; "light
sands " have less than 10%. In the mechanical analysis of the soil,
after separation of the stones and fine gravel by means of sieves,
the remainder of the finer earth is subjected to various processes
of sifting and deposition from water with a view of determining
the relative proportions of sand, silt and clay present in it. Most
of the material termed " sand " in such analyses consists of particles
ranging in diameter from -5 to -05 mm., and the " silt " from -05
to -005 mm., the " clay " being composed of particles less than
•005 mm. in diameter. The proportional amount of these materials
in a sandy soil on the Bagshot beds and a stiff Oxford clay is given
below : —
Crop.
Nitro-
gen.
Phos-
phoric
Acid.
Potash.
Lime.
Mag-
nesia.
Wheat ....
Meadow hay • .
Turnips
Mangels
ft
50
49
no
149
ft
21
12
33
53
ft
29
Si
149
300
ft
9
32
74
43
ft
7
H
9
42
Soil on
Bagshot Beds.
Soil on
Oxford Clay.
Coarse sand 1—2 mm.
Fine sand -2—04 mm.
Silt -04—01 mm.
Fine silt -01—004 mm.
Clay below -004 mm.
32 %
40 „
12 ,,
8 „
8 „
ii %
n' „
19 ..
19 ..
4° -.
The pore-space within the soil, i.e. the space between the parti-
cles composing the soil, varies with the size of these particles and
with the way they are arranged or packed. It is important, since
upon it largely depends the movement of air and water in the land.
It is generally from 30 to 50 % of the total volume occupied by the
soil.
Where the soil grains are quite free from each other the smaller
grains tend to fill up the spaces between the larger ones; hence it
might be concluded that in clays the amount of pore-space would
be less than in coarser sands. This is the case in ' puddled " clays,
but in ordinary clay soils the excessively minute particles of which
they largely consist tend to form groups of comparatively large
composite grains and it is in such natural soils that the pore-space
is largest.
Chemical Composition of the Soil. — It has been found by experiment
that plants need for their nutritive process and their growth, certain
chemical elements, namely, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen,
sulphur, phosphorus, potassium, magnesium, calcium and iron.
With the exception of the carbon and a small proportion of the
oxygen and nitrogen, which may be partially derived from the air,
these elements are taken from the soil by crops. The following
table shows the amounts of the chief constituents removed by certain
crops in Ib per acre : —
Plants also remove from the soil silicon, sodium, chlorine, and
other elements which are, nevertheless, found to be unessential for the
growth and may therefore be neglected here.
Leguminous crops take some of the nitrogen which they require
from the air, but most plants obtain it from the nitrates present
in the soil. The sulphur exists in the soil chiefly in the form of
sulphates of magnesium, calcium and other metals; the phosphorus
mainly as phosphates of calcium, magnesium and iron; the potash,
soda and other bases as silicates and nitrates; calcium and magne-
sium carbonates are also common constituents of many soils.
In the ordinary chemical analyses of the soil determinations
are made of the nitrogen and various carbonates present as well
as of the amount of phosphoric acid, potash, soda, magnesia and
other components soluble in strong hydrochloric acid.
Below are given examples of the analyses of a poor sandy soil
and an ordinary loam : —
Poor sandy Soil
on Bagshot Beds.
Loam or
Lias.
Nitrogen
Phosphoric acid
Potash
Carbonate of Lime
•19 %
•18' „
•19 ..
•23 .-
•17 %
•32 „
•57 .,
1-22 „
Since the dry weight of the first foot of soil over an acre is about
4,000,000 ft the poor sandy soil contains within it : —
Nitrogen 7,600 ft
Phosphoric acid 7,200 ,,
Potash 7,600 ,,
Lime 9,200 „
From the figures given previously of the amount of nitrogen,
potash and phosphoric acid removed by a wheat or mangel crop it
would appear that this soil has enough of these ingredients in it to
yield many such crops; yet experience has shown that these crops
cannot be grown on such a poor sandy soil unless manures contain-
ing phosphates, potash and nitrogen are added.
Many attempts have been made to correlate the results of the
analyses of a soil with its known cropping power, but there is yet
much to be learnt in regard to these matters. A great proportion
of the food constituents which can be extracted by strong hydro-
chloric acid are not in a condition to be taken up by the roots of
plants; they are present, but in a " dormant "state, although by
tillage and weathering processes they may in time become "avail-
able " to plants. Analyses of this character would appear to
indicate the permanent productive capacity of the soil rather than
its immediate power of growing a crop.
Soils containing less than -25 % of potash are likely to need special
application of potash fertilizers to give good results, while those
containing as much as -4 or -5 % do not usually respond to those
manures. Where the amount of phosphoric acid (P2O6) is less
than -05% phosphatic manures are generally found to be beneficial;
with mors than -I % present these fertilizers are not usually called
for except perhaps in soils containing a high percentage of iron
348
SOIL
compounds. Similarly soils with less than •!% of nitrogen are
likely to be benefited by applications of nitrogenous manures.
Too much stress, however, cannot be laid upon these figures, since
the fertility of a soil is very greatly influenced by texture and physi-
cal constitution, perhaps more so by these factors than by chemical
composition.
At present it is not possible to determine with accuracy the
amount of immediately available plant food-constituents in a soil:
no doubt the various species of plants differ somewhat in their
power of absorbing these even from the same soil. The method
introduced by Dyer of dissolving out the mineral constituents
of the soil with a I % solution of citric acid, which represents about
the average acidity of the roots of most common plants, yields
better results. In the case of arable soils, where the amount of
phosphoric acid determined by this method falls below -01 %, phos-
phatic manuring is essential for good crops. The writer has found
that many pasture soils containing less than -025 or -03 %, respond
freely to applications of phosphates; probably in such cases even
the weak acid is capable of dissolving out phosphates from the humus
or other compounds which yield little or none to the roots of grasses
and clovers. In soils where the potash available to citric acid is
less than -005 %, kainit and other potash fertilizers are needed.
Water in the Soil. — The importance of an adequate supply of water
to growing crops cannot well be over-estimated. During the life
of a plant there is a continuous stream of water passing through
it which enters by the root-hairs in the soil and after passing along
the stem is given off from the stomata of the leaves into the open
air above ground. It has been estimated that an acre of cabbage
will absorb from the land and transpire from its leaves more than
ten tons of water per day when the weather is fine.
In addition to its usefulness in maintaining a turgid state of the
young cells without which growth cannot proceed, water is itself a
plant food-material and as absorbed from the soil contains dissolved
in it all the mineral food constituents needed by plants for healthy
nutrition. Without a sufficient supply plants remain stunted and
the crop yield is seriously reduced, as we see in dry seasons when
the rainfall is much below the average. If one condition is more
necessary than another for good crops it is a suitable supply of water,
for no amount of manuring or other treatment of the soil will make
up for a deficient rainfall. The amount needed for the most
satisfactory nutrition varies with different plants. In the case of
fair average farm crops it has been shown that for the production
of one ton of dry matter contained in them from 300 to 500 tons
of water has been absorbed and utilized by the plants. This may
be more than the rainfall, in which case irrigation or special control
of the water supply may be necessary.
The water-holding capacity of a soil depends upon the amount
of free space between the particles of which it is composed into which
water can enter. In most cases this amounts to from 30 to 50 %
of the volume of the soil.
When the pore-space of the soil is filled with water it becomes
water-logged and few plants can effect absorption by their roots
under such conditions. The root-hairs die from want of air, and the
whole plant soon suffers. Fields of wheat and other cereals rarely
recover after a week's submergence, but orchards and many trees
when at rest in winter withstand a flooded or water-logged condition
of the soil for two or three weeks without damage. The most
satisfactory growth is maintained when the amount of water present
is not more than 40 to 60% of what would saturate it. Under
such conditions each particle of soil is surrounded by a thin film
of water and in the pore-space air can freely circulate. It is from
such films that the root-hairs absorb all that plants require for their
growth. The movement of water into the root-hairs is brought
about by the osmotic action of certain salts in their cell-sap. Crops
are, however, unable to absorb all the water present in the soil,
for when the films become very thin they are held more firmly or
cling with more force to the soil particles and resist the osmotic
action of the root-hairs. Plants have been found to wither and die
in sandy soils containing l£% of water, and in clay soils in which
there was still present 8 % of water.
When a long glass tube open at both ends is filled with soil and
one end is dipped in a shallow basin of water, the water is found
to move upwards through the soil column just as oil will rise in an
ordinary lamp wick. By this capillary action water may be trans-
ferred to the upper layers of the soil from a depth of several feet
below the surface. In this manner plants whose roots descend
but a little way in the ground are enabled to draw on deep supplies.
Not only does water move upwards, but it is transferred by capil-
larity in all directions through the soil. The amount and speed of
movement of water by this means, and the distance to which it
may be carried, depend largely upon the fineness of the particles
composing the soil and the spaces left between each. The ascent
of water is most rapid through coarse sands, but the height to which
it will rise is comparatively small. In clays whose particles are
exceedingly minute the water travels very slowly but may ultimately
reach a height of many feet above the level of the " water-table "
below. While this capillary movement of water is of great impor-
tance in supplying the needs of plants it has its disadvantages, since
water may be transferred to the surface of the soil, where it evapo-
rates into the air and is lost to the land or the crop growing upon it.
The loss in this manner was found to be in one instance over a pound
of water per day per square foot of surface, the " water-table "
being about 4 or 5 ft. below.
One of the most effective means of conserving soil moisture is by
" mulching," i.e. by covering the surface of the soil with some
loosely compacted material such as straw, leaf-refuse or stable-
manure. The space between the parts of such substances is too
large to admit of capillary action ; hence the water conveyed to the
surface of the soil is prevented from passing upwards any further
except by slow evaporation through the mulching layer. A loose
layer of earth spread over the surface of the soil acts in the same way,
and a similarly effective mulch may be prepared by hoeing the soil,
or stirring it to a depth of one or two inches with harrows or other
implements. The hoe and harrow are therefore excellent tools
for use in dry weather. Rolling the land is beneficial to young crops
in dry weather, since it promotes capillary action by reducing the
soil spaces. It should, however, be followed by a light hoeing or
harrowing.
In the semi-arid regions of the United States, Argentina and
other countries where the average annual rainfall lies between 10
to 20 in., irrigation is necessary to obtain full crops every year.
Good crops, however, can often be grown in such areas without
irrigation if attention is paid to the proper circulation of water in
the soil and means for retaining it or preventing excessive loss by
evaporation. Of course care must be exercised in the selection of
plants — such as sorghum, maize, wheat, and alfalfa or lucerne —
which are adapted to dry conditions and a warm climate.
So far as the water-supply is concerned — and this is what ulti-
mately determines the yield of crops — the rain which falls upon
the soil should be made to enter it and percolate rapidly through
its interstices. A .deep porous bed in the upper layers is essential,
and this should consist of fine particles which lie close to each other
without any tendency to stick together and " puddle " after heavy
showers. Every effort should be made to prepare a good mealy
tilth by suitable ploughing, harrowing and consolidation.
In the operation of ploughing the furrow slice is separated from
the soil below, and although in humid soils this layer may be left
to settle by degrees, in semi-arid regions this loosened layer becomes
dry if left alone even for a few hours and valuable water evaporates
into the air. To prevent this various implements, such as disk
harrows and specially constructed rollers, may be used to consolidate
the upper stirred portion of the soil and place it in close capillary
relationship with the lower unmoved layer. If the soil is allowed
to become dry and pulverized, rain is likely to run off or " puddle "
the surface without penetrating it more than a very short distance.
Constant hoeing or harrowing to maintain a natural soil mulch
layer of 2 or 3 in. deep greatly conserves the soil water below. In
certain districts where the rainfall is low a crop can only be obtained
once every alternate year, the intervening season being devoted to
tillage with a view of getting the rain into the soil and retaining it
there for the crop in the following year.
Bacteria in the Soil. — Recent science has made much progress
in the investigation of the micro-organisms of the soil. Whereas
the soil used to be looked upon solely as a dead, inert material con-
taining certain chemical substances which serve as food constituents
of the crops grown upon it, it is now known to be a place of habitation
for myriads of minute living organisms upon whose activity much
of its fertility depends. They are responsible for many important
chemical processes which make the soil constituents more available
and better adapted to the nutrition of crops. One cubic centimetre
of soil taken within a foot or so from the surface contains from I J
to 2 millions of bacteria of many different kinds, as well as large
numbers of fungi. In the lower depths of the soil the numbers
decrease, few being met with at a depth of 5 or 6 ft.
The efficiency of many substances, such as farm-yard manure,
guanos, bone-meal and all other organic materials, which are spread
over or dug or ploughed into the land for the benefit of farm and
garden crops, is bound up with the action of these minute living
beings. Without their aid most manures would be useless for
plant growth. Farm-yard manure, guanos and other fertilizers
undergo decomposition in the soil and become broken down into
compounds of simple chemical composition better suited for absorp-
tion by the roots of crops, the changes involved being directly due
to the activity of bacteria and fungi. Much of the work carried on
by these organisms is not clearly understood; there are, however,
certain processes which have been extensively investigated and to
these it is necessary to refer.
It has been found by experiment that the nitrogen needed by
practically all farm crops except leguminous ones is best supplied
in the form of a nitrate ; the rapid effect of nitrate of soda when used
as a top dressing to wheat or other plants is well known to farmers.
It has long been known that when organic materials such as the
dung and urine1 of animals, or even the bodies of animals and plants,
are applied to the soil, the nitrogen within them becomes oxidized,
and ultimately appears in the form of nitrate of lime, potash or some
other base. The nitrogen in decaying roots, in the dead stems
and leaves of plants, and in humus generally is sooner or later
changed into a nitrate, the change being effected by bacteria. That
SOIL
349
the action of living organisms is the cause of the production of
nitrates is supported by the fact that the change does not occur
when the soil is heated nor when it is treated with disinfectants
which destroy or check the growth and life of bacteria. The process
resulting in the formation of nitrates in the soil is spoken of as
nitrification.
The steps in the breaking down of the highly complex nitrogenous
proteid compounds contained in the humus of the soil, or applied
to the latter by the farmer in the form of dung and organic refuse
generally, are many and varied; most frequently the insoluble
proteids are changed by various kinds of putrefactive bacteria into
soluble proteids (peptones, &c.), these into simpler amido-bodies,
and these again sooner or later into compounds of ammonia. The
urea in urine is also rapidly converted by the uro-bacteria into
ammonium carbonate. The compounds of ammonia thus formed
from the complex substances by many varied kinds of micro-organ-
isms are ultimately oxidized into nitrates. The change takes
place in two stages and is effected by two special groups of nitrifying
bacteria, which are present in all soils. In the first stage the
ammonium compounds are oxidized to nitrites by the agency of
very minute motile bacteria belonging to the genus Nitrosomonas.
The further oxidation of the nitrite to a nitrate is effected by
bacteria belonging to the genus Nitrobacter.
Several conditions must be fulfilled before nitrification can occur.
In the first place an adequate temperature is essential ; at 5° or 6° C.
(4l°-43° F.) the process is stopped, so that it does not go on in
winter. In summer, when the temperature is about 24° C. (75° F.),
nitrification proceeds at a rapid rate. The organisms do not carry
on their work in soils deficient in air; hence the process is checked
in water-logged soils. The presence of a base such as lime or mag-
nesia (or their carbonates) is also essential, as well as an adequate
degree of moisture: in dry soils nitrification ceases.
It is the business of the farmer and gardener to promote the
activity of these organisms by good tillage, careful drainage and
occasional application of lime to soils which are deficient in this
substance. It is only when these conditions are attended to that
decay and nitrification of dung, guano, fish-meal, sulphate of am-
monia and other manures take place, and the constituents which
they contain become available to the crops for whose benefit they
have been applied to the land.
Nitrates are very soluble in water and are therefore liable to be
washed out of the soil by heavy rain. They are, however, very
readily absorbed by growing plants, so that in summer, when nitrifica-
tion is most active, the nitrates produced are usually made use of by
crops before loss by drainage takes place. In winter, however, and
in fallows loss takes place in the subsoil water.
There is also another possible source of loss of nitrates through
the activity of denitrifying bacteria. These organisms reduce
nitrates to nitrites and finally to ammonia and gaseous free nitrogen
which escapes into the atmosphere. Many bacteria are known
which are capable of denitrification, some of them being abundant
in fresh dung and upon old straw. They can, however, only carry
on their work extensively under anaerobic conditions, as in water-
logged soils or in those which are badly tilled, so that there is but
little loss of nitrates through their agency.
An important group of soil organisms are now known which have
the power of using the free nitrogen of the atmosphere for the forma-
tion of the complex nitrogenous compounds of which their bodies
are largely composed. By their continued action the soil becomes
enriched with nitrogenous material which eventually through the
nitrification process becomes available to ordinary green crops.
This power of " fixing nitrogen," as it is termed, is apparently not
possessed by higher green plants. The bacterium, Clostridium
pasteurianum, common in most soils, is able to utilize free nitrogen
under anaerobic conditions, and an organism known as Azotobacter
chroococcum and some others closely allied to it, have similar powers
which they can exercise under aerobic conditions. For the carrying
on of their functions they all need to be supplied with carbohydrates
or other carbon compounds which they obtain ordinarily from
humus and plant residues in the soil, or possibly in some instances
from carbohydrates manufactured by minute green algae with
which they live in close union. Certain bacteria of the nitrogen-
fixing class enter into association with the roots of green plants,
the best-known examples being those which are met with in the
nodules upon the roots of clover, peas, beans, sainfoin and other
plants belonging to the leguminous order.
That the fertility of land used for the growth of wheat is improved
by growing upon it a crop of beans or clover has been long recognized
by farmers. The knowledge of the cause, however, is due to modern
investigations. When wheat, barley, turnips and similar plants
are grown, the soil upon which they are cultivated becomes depleted
of its nitrogen; yet after a crop of clover or other leguminous plants
the soil is found to be richer in nitrogen than it was before the crop
was grown. This is due to the nitrogenous root residues left in the
land. Upon the roots of leguminous plants characteristic swollen
nodules or tubercles are present. These are found to contain large
numbers of a bacterium termed Bacillus radicicola or Pseudomonas
radicicola. The bacteria, which are present in almost all soils, enter
the root-hairs of their host plants and ultimately stimulate the
production of an excrescent nodule, in which they live. For a time
after entry they multiply, obtaining the nitrogen necessary for
their nutrition and growth from the free nitrogen of the air, the
carbohydrate required being supplied by the pea or clover plant
in whose tissues they make a home. The nodules increase in size,
and analysis shows that they are exceedingly rich in nitrogen up to
the time of flowering of the host plant. During this period the
bacteria multiply and most of them assume a peculiar thickened
or branched form, in which state they are spoken of as bacteroids.
Later the nitrogen-content of the nodule decreases, most of the
organisms, which are largely composed of proteid material, becoming
digested and transformed into soluble nitrogenous compounds
which are conducted to the developing roots and seeds. After the
decay of the roots some of the unchanged bacteria are left in the
soil, where they remain ready to infect a new leguminous crop.
The nitrogen-fixing nodule bacteria can be cultivated on artificial
media, and many attempts have been made to utilize them for
practical purposes. Pure cultures may be made and after dilution
in water or other liquid can be mixed with soil to be ultimately
spread over the land which is to be infected. The method of using
them most frequently adopted consists in applying them to the
seeds of leguminous plants before sowing, the seed being dipped for
a time in a liquid containing the bacteria. In this manner organisms
obtained from red clover can be grown and applied to the seed of
red clover ; and similar inoculation can be arranged for other species,
so that an application of the bacteria most suited to the particular
crop to be cultivated can be assured. In many cases it has been
found that inoculation, whether of the soil or of the seed, has not
made any appreciable difference to the growth of the crop, a result
no doubt due to the fact that the soil had already contained within
it an abundant supply of suitable organisms. But in other instances
greatly increased yields have been obtained where inoculation has
been practised. More or less pure cultures of the nitrogen-fixing
bacteria belonging to the Azotobacter group have been tried and
recommended for application»to poor land in order to provide a cheap
supply of nitrogen. The application of pure cultures of bacteria
for improving the fertility of the land is still in an experimental
stage. There is little doubt, however, that in the near future means
will be devised to obtain the most efficient work from these minute
organisms, either by special artificial cultivation and subsequent
application to the soil, or by improved methods of encouraging their
healthy growth and activity in the land where they already exist.
Improvement of Soils. — The fertility of a soil is dependent
upon a number of factors, some of which, such as the addition
of fertilizers or manures, increase the stock of available food
materials in the soil (see MANURE), while others, such as
application of clay or humus, chiefly influence the fertility of
the land by improving its physical texture.
The chief processes for the improvement of soils which may
be discussed here are: liming, claying and marling, warping,
paring and burning, and green manuring. Most of these more
or less directly improve the land by adding to it certain plant
food constituents which are lacking, but the effect of each
process is in reality very complex. In the majority of cases
the good results obtained are more particularly due to the
setting free of " dormant " or" latent " food constituents and to
the amelioration of the texture of the soil, so that its aeration,
drainage, temperature and water-holding capacity are altered
for the better.
The material which chemists call calcium carbonate is met with
in a comparatively pure state in chalk. It is present in variable
amounts in limestones of all kinds, although its white-
ness may there be masked by the presence of iron oxide Liming.
and other coloured substances. Carbonate of lime is also a consti-
tuent to a greater or lesser extent in almost all soils. In certain
sandy soils and in a few stiff clays it may amount to less than i %,
while in others in limestone and chalk districts there may be 50 to
80% present. Pure carbonate of lime when heated loses 44% of
its weight, the decrease being due to the loss of carbon dioxide gas.
The resulting white product is termed calcium oxide lime, burnt
lime, quicklime, cob lime, or caustic lime. This substance absorbs
and combines with water very greedily, at the same time becoming
very hot, and falling into a fine dry powder, calcium hydroxide or
slaked lime, which when left in the open slowly combines with
the carbon dioxide of the air and becomes calcium carbonate, from
which we began.
When recommendations are made about liming land it is necessary
to indicate more precisely than is usually done which of the three
classes of material named above — chalk, quicklime or slaked lime —
is intended. Generally speaking the oxide or quicklime has a more
rapid and greater effect in modifying the soil than slaked lime, and
this again greater than the carbonate or chalk.
Lime in whatever form it is applied has a many-sided influence
in the fertility of the land. It tends to improve the tilth and the
350
SOIL
capillarity of the soil by binding sands together somewhat and by
opening up clays. If applied in too great an amount to light soils
and peat land it may do much damage by rendering them too loose
and open. The addition of small quantities of lime, especially
in a caustic form, to stiff greasy clays makes them much more porous
and pliable. A lump of clay, which if dried would become hard
and intractable, crumbles into pieces when dried after adding to it
J % of lime. The lime causes the minute separate particles of clay to
flocculate or group themselves together into larger compound grains
between which air and water can percolate more freely. It is this
power of creating a more crumbly tilth on stiff clays that makes lime
so valuable to the farmer. Lime also assists in the decomposition
of the organic matter or humus in the soil and promotes nitrification ;
hence it is of great value after green manuring or where the land
contains much humus from the addition of bulky manures such as
farm-yard dung. This tendency to destroy organic matter makes
the repeated application of lime a pernicious practice, especially
on land which contains little humus to begin with. The more or
less dormant nitrogen and other constituents of the humus are made
immediately available to the succeeding crop, but the capital of
the soil is rapidly reduced, and unless the loss is replaced by the
addition of more manures the land may become sterile. Although
good crops may follow the application of lime, the latter is not a
direct fertilizer or manure and is no substitute for such. Its best
use is obtained on land in good condition, but not where the soil is
poor. When used on light dry land it tends to make the land drier,
since it destroys the humus which so largely assists in keeping water
in the soil. Lime is a base and neutralizes the acid materials present
in badly drained meadows and boggy pastures. Weeds, therefore,
which need sour conditions for development are checked by liming
and the better grasses and clovers are encouraged. It also sets
free potash and possibly other useful plant food-constituents of the
soil. Liming tends to produce earlier crops and destroys the
fungus which causes finger-and-toe or club-root among turnips and
cabbages. .
Land which contains less than about \ % of lime usually needs
the addition of this material. The particular form in which lime
should be applied for the best results depends upon the nature
of the soil. In practice the proximity to chalk pits or lime kilns,
the cost of the lime and cartage, will determine which is most
economical. Generally speaking light poor lands deficient in
organic matter will need the less caustic form or chalk, while quick-
lime will be most satisfactory on the stiff clays and richer soils.
On the stiff soils overlying the chalk it was formerly the custom to
dig pits through the soil to the rock below. Shafts 20 or 30 ft. deep
were then sunk, and the chalk taken from horizontal tunnels was
brought to the surface and spread on the land at the rate of about
60 loads per acre. Chalk should be applied in autumn, so that it
may be split by the action of frost during the winter. Quicklime
is best applied, perhaps, in spring at the rate of one ton per acre every
six or eight years, or in larger doses — 4 to 8 tons — every 15 to 20
years. Small dressings applied at short intervals give the most
satisfactory results. The quicklime should be placed in small
heaps and covered with soil if possible until it is slacked and the
lumps have fallen into powder, after which it may be spread and
harrowed in. Experiments have shown that excellent effects can be
obtained by applying 5 or 6 cwt. of ground quicklime.
Gas-lime is a product obtained from gasworks where quicklime
is used to purify the gas from sulphur compounds and other objec-
tionable materials. It contains a certain amount of unaltered
caustic lime and slacked lime, along with sulphates and sulphides
of lime, some of which have an evil odour. As some of these sulphur
compounds have a poisonous effect on plants, gas-lime cannot be
applied to land directly without great risk or rendering it incapable
of growing crops of any sort — even weeds — for some time. It
should therefore be kept a year or more in heaps in some waste
corner and turned over once or twice so that the air can gain access
to it and oxidize the poisonous ingredients in it.
Many soils of a light sandy or gravelly or peaty nature and liable
to drought and looseness of texture can be improved by the addition
. of large amounts of clay of an ordinary character.
Similarly soils can be improved by applying to them
marl, a substance consisting of a mixture of clay with
variable proportions of lime. Some of the chalk marls, which are
usually of a yellowish or dirty grey colour, contain clay and 50 to 80 %
of carbonate of lime with a certain proportion of phosphate of lime.
Such a material would not only have an influence on the texture
of the land but the lime would reduce the sourness of the land and
the phosphate of lime supply one of the most valuable of plant food-
constituents. The beneficial effects of marls may also be partially
due to the presence in them of available potash.
Typical clay-marls are tenacious, soapy clays of yellowish-red or
brownish colour and generally contain jess than 50 % of lime. When
dry they crumble into small pieces which can be readily mixed with
the soil by ploughing. Many other kinds of marls are described;
some are of a sandy nature, others stony or full of the remains of
small shells. The amount and nature of the clay or marl to be added
to the soil will depend largely upon the original composition of the
latter, the lighter sands and gravel requiring more clay than those
of firmer texture. Even stiff soils deficient in lime are greatly
improved in fertility by the addition of marls. In some cases as
little as 40 loads per acre have been used with benefit, in others 1 80
loads have not been too much. The material is dug from neighbour-
ing pits or sometimes from the fields which are to be improved, and
applied in autumn and winter. When dry and in a crumbly state
it is harrowed and spread and finally ploughed in and mixed with
the soil.
On some of the strongest land it was formerly the practice to add
to and plough into it burnt clay, with the object of making the land
work more easily. The burnt clay moreover carried _.
with it potash and other materials in a state readily jj .
available to the crops. The clay is dug from the land BuralaZ-
or from ditches or pits and placed in heaps of 60 to loo loads each,
with laggot wood, refuse coals or other fuel. Great care is necessary
to prevent the heaps from becoming too hot, in which case the clay
becomes baked into hard lumps of brick-like material which cannot
be broken up. With careful management, however, the clay dries
and bakes, becoming slowly converted into lumps which readily
crumble into a fine powder, in which state it is spread over and
worked into the land at the rate of 40 loads per acre.
The paring and burning of land, although formerly practised
as an ordinary means of improving the texture and fertility of
arable fields, can now only be looked upon as a practice „.
to be adopted for the purpose of bringing rapidly into ^"7 *
cultivation very foul leys or land covered with a coarse
turf. The practice is confined to poorer types of land, such as
heaths covered with -furze and bracken or fens and clay areas
smothered with rank grasses and sedges. To reduce such land to
a fit state for the growth of arable crops is very difficult and slow
without resort to paring and burning. The operation consists of
paring off the tough sward to a depth of I to 2 in. just sufficient to
effectually damage the roots of the plants forming the sward and
then, after drying the sods and burning them, spreading the charred
material and ashes over the land. The turf is taken off either with
the breast plough — a paring tool pushed forward from the breast
or thighs by the workman — or with specially constructed paring
ploughs or shims. The depth of the sod removed should not be too
thick or burning is difficult and top much humus is destroyed
unnecessarily, nor should it be too thin or the roots of the herbage
are not effectually destroyed.
The operation is best carried out in spring and summer. After
being pared off the turf is allowed to dry for a fortnight or so and is
then placed in small heaps a yard or two wide at the base, a little
straw or wood being put in the middle of each heap, which is then
lighted. As burning proceeds more turf is added to the outside
of the heaps in such a manner as to allow little access of air. Every
care should be taken to burn and char the sod thoroughly without
permitting the heap to blaze. The ashes should be spread as soon
as possible and covered by a shallow ploughing. The land is then
usually sown with some rapidly growing green crop, such as rape,
or with turnips.
Paring and burning improves the texture of clay lands, particularly
if draining is carried out at the same time. It tends to destroy
insects and weeds, and gets rid of acidity of the soil. No operation
brings old turf into cultivation so rapidly. Moreover the beneficial
effects are seen in the first crop and last for many years. Many of
the mineral plant food-constituents locked up in the coarse herbage
and in the upper layers of the soil are made immediately available
to crops. The chief disadvantage is the loss of nitrogen which it
entails, this element being given off into the air in a free gaseous
state. It is best adapted for application to clays and fen lands
and should not be practised on shallow light sands or gravelly soils,
since the humus so necessary for the fertility of such areas is reduced
too much and the soil rendered too porous and liable to suffer from
drought.
Many thousands of acres of low-lying peaty and sandy land adjoin-
ing the tidal rivers which flow into the number have been improved
by a process termed " warping." The warp consists yfarolax
of fine muddy sediment which is suspended in the tidal-
river .water and appears to be derived from material scoured from
the bed of the Humber by the action of the tide and acertain amount
of sediment brought down by the tributary ' streams which join
the Humber some distance from its mouth. The field or area to
be warped must lie below the level of the water in the river at high
tide. It is first surrounded by an embankment, after which the
water from the river is allowed to flow through a properly constructed
sluice in its bank, along a drain or ditch to the land which is prepared
for warping. By a system of carefully laid channels the water
flows gently over the land, and deposits its warp with an even level
surface. At the ebb of the tide the more or less clear water flows
back again from the land into the main river with sufficient force
to clean out any deposit which may have accumulated in the drain
leading to the warped area, thus allowing free access of more warp-
laden water at the next tide. In this manner poor peats and sands
may be covered with a large layer of rock soil capable of growing
excellent crops.
The amount of deposit laid over the land reaches a thickness of
two or three feet in one season of warping, which is usually practised
SOIL
between March and October, advantage being taken of the spring
tides during these months. The new warp is allowed to lie fallow
during the winter after being laid out in four-yard " lands " and
becomes dry enough to be sown with oats and grass and clover seeds
in the following spring. The clover-grass ley is then grazed for a year
or two with sheep, after which wheat and potatoes are the chief
crops grown on the land.
Green manures are crops which are grown especially for the purpose
of ploughing into the land in a green or actively growing state. The
„ crop during its growth obtains a considerable amount of
'ree carbon from the carbon dioxide of the air, and builds it up
manuring. jntQ compOuncis which when ploughed into the land
become humus. The carbon compounds of the latter are of no direct
nutritive value to the succeeding crop, but the decaying vegetable
tissues very greatly assist in retaining moisture in light sandy soils,
and in clay soils also have a beneficial effect in rendering them more
open and allowing of better drainage of superfluous water and
good circulation of fresh air within them. The ploughing-in of green
crops is in many respects like the addition of farm-yard manure.
Their growth makes no new addition of mineral food-constituents
to the land, but they bring useful substances from the subsoil
nearer to the surface, and after the decay of the buried vegetation
these become available to succeeding crops of wheat or other plants.
Moreover, where deep-rooting plants are grown the subsoil is aerated
and rendered more open and suitable for the development of future
crops.
The plants most frequently used are white mustard, rape, buck-
wheat, spurry, rye, and several kinds of leguminous plants, especially
vetches, lupins and serradella. By far the most satisfactory crops
as green manures are those of the leguminous class, since they add
to the land considerable amounts of the valuable fertilizing con-
stituent, nitrogen, which is obtained from the atmosphere. By
nitrification this substance rapidly becomes available to succeeding
crops. On the light, poor sands of Saxony Herr Schultz, of Lupitz,
made use of serradella, yellow lupins and vetches as green manures
for enriching the land in humus and nitrogen, and found the addition
of potash salts and phosphates very profitable for the subsequent
growth of potatoes and wheat. He estimated that by using
leguminous crops in this manner for the purpose of obtaining cheap
nitrogen he reduced the cost of production of wheat more than 50 %.
The growing crops should be ploughed in before flowering occurs ;
they should not be buried deeply, since decay and nitrification take
place most rapidly and satisfactorily when there is free access of
air to the decaying material. When the crop is luxuriant it is
necessary to put a roller over it first, to facilitate proper burial by
the plough. The best time for the operation appears to be late
summer and autumn. (J. PE.)
Soil and Disease. — The influence of different kinds of soil as
a factor in the production of disease requires to be considered,
in regard not only to the nature and number of the micro-
organisms they contain, but also to the amount of moisture
and air in them and their capacity for heat. The moisture in
soil is derived from two sources — the rain and the ground-water.
Above the level of the ground-water the soil is kept moist by
capillary attraction and by evaporation of the water below, by
rainfall, and by movements of the ground- water; on the other
hand, the upper layers are constantly losing moisture by evapo-
ration from the surface and through vegetation. When the
ground-water rises it forces air out of the soil; when it falls again
it leaves the soil moist and full of air. The nature of the soil
will largely influence the amount of moisture which it will take
up or retain. In regard to water, all soils have two actions
— namely, permeability and absorbability. Permeability is
practically identical with the speed at which percolation takes
place; through clay it is slow, but increases in rapidity through
marls, loams, limestones, chalks, coarse gravels and fine sands,
reaching a maximum in soil saturated with moisture. The
amount of moisture retained depends mainly upon the absorb-
ability of the soil, and as it depends largely on capillary action
it varies with the coarseness or fineness of the pores of the soil,
being greater for soils which consist of fine particles. The
results of many analyses show that the capacity of soils for
moisture increases with the amount of organic substances
present; decomposition appears to be most active when the
moisture is about 4%, but can continue when it is as low as
2%, while it appears to be retarded by any excess over 4%.
Above the level of the ground-water all soils contain air, varying
in amount with the degree of looseness of the soil. Some sands
contain as much as 50% of air of nearly the same composition
as atmospheric air. The oxygen, however, decreases with the
depth, while the carbon dioxide increases.
Among the most noteworthy workers at the problems involved in
the question of the influence of soil in the production of disease
we find von Foder, Pettenkofer, Levy, Fleck, von Naegeli, Schleesing,
Muntz and Warrington. The study of epidemic and endemic
diseases generally has brought to light an array of facts which
very strongly suggest that an intimate association exists between
the soil and the appearance and propagation of certain diseases;
but although experiments and observations allow this view to be
looked upon as well established, still the precise r61e played by the
soil in an aetiological respect is by no means so well understood
as to make it possible to separate the factors and dogmatize on their
effects. The earliest writers upon cholera emphasized its remark-
able preference for particular places ; and the history of each succes-
sive epidemic implies, besides an importation of the contagion,
certain local conditions which may be either general sanitary defects
or peculiarities of climate and soil. The general evidence indicates
that the specific bacteria of cholera discharges are capable of a
much longer existence in the superficial soil layers than was formerly
supposed; consequently it is specially necessary to guard against
pollution of the soil, and through it against the probable contamina-
tion of both water and air. The evidence, however, is not suffi-
ciently strong to warrant a universal conclusion, the diffusion of
cholera appearing to be largely dependent upon other factors than
soil states. Again, all accounts of diphtheria show a tendency on
the part of the disease to recur in the same districts year after year.
The questions naturally suggest themselves — Are the reappearances
due to a revival of the contagion derived from previous outbreaks
in the same place, or to some favouring condition which the place
offers for the development of infection derived from some other
quarter; and have favouring conditions any dependence upon the
character and state of the soil? Greenhow in 1858 stated that
diphtheria was especially prevalent on cold, wet soils, and Airy
in 1 88 1 described the localities affected as " for the most part cold,
wet, clay lands." An analysis of the innumerable outbreaks in
various parts of Europe indicates that the geological features of the
affected districts play a less important part in the incidence of the
disease than soil dampness. In this connexion it is interesting to
note the behaviour of the diphtheritic contagion in soil. Experi-
ments show that pure cultures, when mixed with garden soil con-
stantly moistened short of saturation and kept in the dark at a
temperature of 14° C., will retain their vitality for more than ten
months; from moist soil kept at 26° C. they die out in about two
months; from moist soil at 30° C. in seventeen days; and in dry soil
at the same temperature within a week. In the laboratory absolute
soil dryness is as distinctly antagonistic to the vitality of the
diphtheria bacillus as soil dampness is favourable. Both statisti-
cally and experimentally we find that a damp soil favours its life
and development, while prolonged submersion and drought kill it.
We may consider that, in country districts, constant soil moisture
is one of the chief factors ; while in the case of urban outbreaks mere
soil moisture is subsidiary to other more potent causes.
Again, many facts in the occurrence and diffusion of enteric fever
point to an intimate connexion between its origin and certain con-
ditions of locality. Epidemics rarely spread over any considerable
tract of country, but are nearly always confined within local limits.
Observations made at the most diverse parts of the globe, and the
general distribution area ot the disease, show that mere questions
of elevation, or even configuration of the ground, have little or no
influence. On the other hand, the same observations go to show
that the disease is met with oftener on the more recent formations
than the older, and this fact, so far as concerns the physical characters
of the soil, is identical with the questions of permeability to air and
water. Robertson has shown that the typhoid bacillus can grow
very easily in certain soils, can persist in soils through the winter
months, and when the soil is artificially fed, as may be done by a
leaky drain or by access of filthy water.from the surface, the micro-
organism will take on a fresh growth in the warm season. The
destructive power of sunlight is only exercised on those organisms
actually at the surface. Cultures of the typhoid organism planted
at a depth of 1 8 in. were found to have grown to the surface. In
the winter months the deeper layers of the soil act as a shelter to
the organism, which again grows towards the surface during the
summer. The typhoid organism was not found to be taken off from
the decomposing masses of semi-liquid filth largely contaminated
with a culture of bacillus typhosus; but, on the other hand, it was
abundantly proved that it could grow over moist surfaces of stones,
&c. Certain disease-producing organisms, such as the bacillus of
tetanus and malignant oedema, appear to be universally distributed
in soil, while others, as the bacillus typhosus and spirillum cholerae,
appear to have only a local distribution. The conditions which
favour the vitality, growth and multiplication of the typhoid
bacillus are the following: the soil should be pervious; it should
be permeated with a sufficiency of decaying — preferably animal —
organic matters; it should possess a certain amount of moisture,
and be subject to a certain temperature. Depriving the organism
of any of these essential conditions for its existence in the soil will
secure our best weapon for defence. The optimum temperature
adapted to its growth and extension is 37° C. =98° -4 F. Sir Charles
Cameron attributes the prevalence of typhoid in certain areas in
352
SOISSONS
Dublin to the soil becoming saturated with faecal matter and specifi-
cally infected. The ratio of cases to population living in Dublin on
loose porous gravel soil tor the ten years 1881-1891 was I in 94, while
that of those living on stiff clay soil was but I in 145. " This is
as we should expect, since the movements of ground air are much
greater in loose porous soils than in stiff clay soils." A foul gravel
soil is a most dangerous one on which to build. For warmth, for
dryness, for absence of fog, and for facility of walking after rain,
just when the air is at its purest and its best, there is nothing
equal to gravel; but when gravel has been rendered foul by infil-
tration with organic matters it may easily become a very hotbed
of disease. , (J. L. N.)
SOISSONS, a city of northern France, in the department of
Aisne, 65 m. N.E. of Paris by the railway to Laon. Pop. (1906),
11,586. Soissons, pleasantly situated amongst wooded hills,
stands on the left bank of the Aisne, the suburbs of St Vaast
and St Medard lying on the right bank. The cathedral of
Notre-Dame was begun in the second half of the i2th century
and finished about the end of the i3th. It is 328 ft. long and
87 wide, and the vaulting of the nave is 100 ft. above the pave-
ment. The single tower dates from the middle of the i3th
century and is an imitation of those of Notre-Dame of Paris,
which it equals in height (216 ft.). The south transept, the
oldest and most graceful portion of the whole edifice, terminates
in an apse. The facade of the north transept dates from the
end of the i3th century. The apse and choir retain some fine
13th-century glass. Considerable remains exist of the magnifi-
cent abbey of St Jean-des-Vignes, where Thomas Becket resided
for a short time. These include the ruins of two cloisters (the
larger dating from the i3th century), the refectory, and above
all the imposing fagade of the church (restored). Above the
three portals (i3th century) runs a gallery, over which again
is a large window; the two unequal towers (230 and 246 ft.) of
the 1 5th and early i6th centuries are surmounted by beautiful
stone spires, which command the town. The church of St
Leger, which belongs to the i3th century, was formerly attached
to an abbey of the Genovefains. Beneath are two Romanesque
crypts. The royal abbey of Notre-Dame, now a barrack, was
founded in 660 for monks and nuns by Leutrade, wife of Ebro'in,
the celebrated mayor of the palace. The number of the nuns
(216 in 858), the wealth of the library in manuscripts, the
valuable relics, the high birth of the abbesses, the popularity of
the pilgrimages, all contributed to the importance of this abbey,
of which there exist only inconsiderable remains. The wealthiest
of all the abbeys in Soissons, and one of the most important of
all France during the first two dynasties, was that of St Medard,
on the right bank of the Aisne, founded about 560 by Clotaire I.,
beside the villa of Syagrius, which had become the palace of the
Prankish kings. St Medard, apostle of Vermandois, and kings
Clotaire and Sigebert, were buried in the monastery, which be-
came the residence of 400 monks and the meeting-place of several
councils. It was there that Childeric III., the last Merovingian,
was deposed and Pippin the Short was crowned by the papal
legate, and there Louis the Pious was kept in captivity in 833.
The abbots of St Medard coined money, and in Abelard's time
(i2th century) were lords of 220 villages, farms and manors.
At the battle of Bouvines (1214) the abbot commanded 150
vassals. In 1530 St Medard was visited by a procession of
300,000 pilgrims. But the religious wars ruined the abbey,
and, although it was restored by the Benedictines in 1637, it
never recovered its former splendour. Of the churches and the
conventual buildings of the ancient foundation there hardly
remains a trace. The site is occupied by a deaf and dumb
institution, the chapel of which stands over the crypt of the
great abbey church, which dates from about 840. In the crypt
is a stone coffin, said to have been that of Childebert II., and close
at hand is an underground chamber, reputed to have been the
place of captivity of Louis the Pious.
The civil buildings of the town are not of much interest.
The h6tel-de-ville contains a library and a museum with collec-
tions of paintings and antiquities. The foundation of the hotel-
dieu dates back to the I3th century. The town has a large
botanical garden. Soissons is the seat of a bishop and a sub-
prefect, and has tribunals of first instance and of commerce,
a communal college and higher ecclesiastical seminary. Among
the industrial establishments are iron and copper foundries,
and factories for the production of boilers, agricultural imple-
ments and other iron goods, straw hats, glass and sugar. Grain,
haricot beans of exceptional quality, and -timber are the principal
articles of trade.
Soissons is generally identified with the oppidum of Gallia
Belgica, called Noiiiodunum by Caesar. Noviodunum was the
capital of the Suessiones, who occupied twelve towns, and whose
king, Divitiacus, one of the most powerful in Gaul, had extended
his authority even beyond the sea among the Britons. In 58 B.C.
Galba, king of the Suessiones, separated from the confederation
of the Belgians and submitted to the Romans. At the beginning
of the empire Noviodunum took the name of Augusta Suessionum,
and afterwards that of Suessiona, and became the second capital
of Gallia Belgica, of which Reims was the metropolis. The
town was before long surrounded with a regular wall and de-
fended by a citadel, and it became the starting-point of several
military roads (to Reims, Chateau-Thierry, Meaux, Paris,
Amiens and St Quentin). Christianity was introduced by St
Crispin and St Crispinian, men of noble birth, who, however,
earned their livelihood by shoemaking, and thus became patrons
of that craft. After their martyrdom in 297 their work was
continued by St Sinitius, the first bishop of Soissons. After
the barbarians had crossed the Rhine and the Meuse Soissons
became the metropolis of the Roman possessions in the north
of Gaul, and on the defeat of Syagrius by Clovis the Franks
seized the town. It was at Soissons that Clovis married Clotilde,
and, though he afterwards settled at Paris, Soissons was the
capital of his son Clotaire, and afterwards of Chilperic I., king of
Neustria. It was not till the time of Chilperic's son, Clotaire II.,
that the kingdom of Soissons was incorporated with that
of Paris. Pippin the Short was at Soissons proclaimed king
by an assembly of leudes and bishops, and he was there crowned
by the papal legate, St Boniface, before being crowned at Saint
Denis by the pope himself. Louis the Pious did penance there
after being deposed by the assembly at Compiegne. Under
Charles the Fat (886) the Normans failed in an attempt against
the town, but laid waste St Medard and the neighbourhood.
In 923 Charles the Simple was defeated outside the walls by
the supporters of Rudolph of Burgundy, and Hugh the Great
besieged and partly burned the town in 948. Under the first
Capets Soissons was held by hereditary counts (see below),
frequently at war with the king or the citizens. The communal
charter of the town dates from 1131. At a synod held at Soissons
in 1 121 the teachings of Abelard were condemned, and he was
forced to retract them. In 1155, at an assembly of prelates
and barons held at Soissons, Louis VII. issued a famous decree
forbidding all private wars for a space of ten years; and in 1325
Charles the Fair replaced the mayor of Soissons by a royal
provost dependent on the bailiwick of Vermandois, the inhabi-
tants retaining only the right of electing four ichevins. The
town had to suffer severely during the war of the Hundred
Years; in 1414, when it was held by the Burgundians, it was
captured and sacked by the Armagnacs under the dauphin ;
and this same fate again befell it several times within twenty
years. The Treaty of Arras (1435) brought it again under the
royal authority. It was sacked by Charles V. in 1544 and in
1565 by the Huguenots, who laid the churches in ruins, and,
supported by the prince of Conde, count of Soissons, kept
possession of the town for six months. During the League
Soissons eagerly joined the Catholic party. Charles, duke of
Mayenne, made the town his principal residence, and died there
in 1611. A European congress was held there in 1728. In
1814 Soissons was captured and recaptured by the allies and the
French. In 1815, after Waterloo, it was a rallying point for
the vanquished, and it was not occupied by the Russians till the
i4th of August. In 1870 it capitulated to the Germans after a
bombardment of three days.
COUNTS or SOISSONS. — In the middle ages Soissons was
the chief town of a countship belonging in the loth and nth
centuries to a family which apparently sprang from the
SOKE— SOKOTO
353
counts of Vermandois. Renaud, count of Soissons, gave
his property in 1141 to his nephew Yves de Nesle. By
successive marriages the countship of Soissons passed to the
houses of Hainaut, Chatillon-Blois, Coucy, Bar and Luxem-
burg. Marie de Luxemburg brought it, together with the
counties of Marie and St Pol, to Francis of Bourbon, count
of Vend6me, whom she married in 1487. His descendants, the
princes of Conde, held Soissons and gave it to their cadets.
Charles of Bourbon, count of Soissons (1566-1612), son of Louis,
prince of Conde, whose political vacillations were due to his
intrigues with Henry IV.'s sister Catherine, became grand
master of France and governor of Dauphine and Normandy.
His son, Louis of Bourbon (1604-1641), took part in the plots
against Marie de Medici and Richelieu, and attempted to assas-
sinate Richelieu. He had only one child, a natural son, known as
the Chevalier de Soissons. The countship passed to the house
of Savoy-Carignan by the marriage in 1625 of Marie de Bourbon-
Soissons with Thomas Francis of Savoy. Eugene Maurice
of Savoy, count of Soissons (1635-1673), married the beautiful
and witty Olympia Mancini, a niece of Cardinal Mazarin, and
obtained high military posts through his wife's influence. He
defeated the Spaniards at the battle of the Dunes in 1658;
took part in the campaigns at Flanders (1667). Franche-Comte
(1668) and Holland (1672); and was present as ambassador
extraordinary of France at the coronation of Charles II. of
England. His wife led a scandalous life, and was accused of
poisoning her husband and others. She was the mother of
Louis Thomas Amadeus, count of Soissons, and of the famous
Prince Eugene of Savoy. In 1734 the male line of the family
of Savoy-Soissons became extinct, and the heiress, the princess
of Saxe-Hildburghausen, ceded the countship of Soissons to
the house of Orleans, in whose possession it remained until
1789.
SOKE (O. Eng. soc, connected ultimately with secan, to seek) ,
a word which at the time of the Norman Conquest generally
denoted jurisdiction, but was often used vaguely and is probably
incapable of precise definition. In some cases it denoted the
right to hold a court, and in others only the right to receive the
fines and forfeitures of the men over whom it was granted
when they had been condemned in a court of competent jurisdic-
tion. Its primary meaning seems to have been " seeking ";
thus " soka faldae '' was the duty of seeking the lords court,
just as " secta ad molendinum " was the duty of seeking the
lords mill. The " Leges Henrici " also speaks of pleas " in socna,
id est, in quaestione sua " — picas which are in his investigation.
It is evident, however, that not long after the Norman Conquest
considerable doubt prevailed about the correct meaning of the
word. In some versions of the much used tract Interpretationes
uocabulorum soke is defined " aver fraunc court," and in others
as " interpellacio maioris audientiae," which is glossed some-
what ambiguously as " claim a justis et requeste." Soke is also
frequently associated to " sak " or " sake " in the alliterative
jingle " sake and soke," but the two words are not etymologi-
cally related. " Sake " is the Anglo-Saxon " sacu," originally
meaning a matter or cause (from sacan, to contend), and later
the right to have a court. Soke, however, is the commoner
word, and appears to have had a wider range of meaning. The
term " soke," unlike " sake," was sometimes used of the district
over which the right of jurisdiction extended.
Mr Adolphus Ballard has recently argued that the interpreta-
tion of the word " soke " as jurisdiction should only be accepted
where it stands for the fuller phrase, " sake and soke," and that
soke standing by itself denoted services only. There are
certainly many passages in Domesday Book which support his
contention, but there are also other passages in which soke
seems to be merely a short expression for " sake and soke." The
difficulties about the correct interpretation of these words
will probably not be solved until the normal functions and
jurisdiction of the various local courts have been more fully
elucidated.
" The sokemen " were a class of tenants, found chiefly in
the eastern counties, occupying an intermediate position between
xxv. 12
the free tenants and the bond tenants or villains. As a general
rule they were personally free, but performed many of the
agricultural services of the villains. It is generally supposed
they were called sokemen because they were within the lord's
soke or jurisdiction. Mr Ballard, however, holds that a sokeman
was merely a man who rendered services, and that a sokeland
was land from which services were rendered, and was not neces-
sarily under the jurisdiction of a manor. The law term, socage,
used of this tenure, is a barbarism, and is formed by adding the
French age to soc.
See F. W. Maitland, Domesday Book and Beyond; J. H. Round,
Feudal England; F. H. Baring, Domesday Tables; A. Ballard, The
Domesday Inquest; J. Tail, review of the last-mentioned book in
English Historical Review for January 1908; Red Book of the Ex-
chequer (Rolls Series), iii. 1035. (G. J. T.)
SOKOTO, an important Fula state of west central Sudan,
now a province of the British protectorate of Nigeria. The
sultan of Sokoto throughout the igth century exercised an over-
lordship over the Hausa states extending east from the Niger
to Bornu and southward to the Benue and Adamawa. These
states and Sokoto itself, known variously as the Sokoto or Fula
empire and Hausaland, came (c. 1900-1903) under direct British
control, but the native governments are maintained. The pro-
vince of Sokoto occupies the north-west corner of the British
protectorate, and is bounded west and north by French territory.
South and east it adjoins other parts of the British protectorate.
Bordering north on the Sahara, it contains much arid land, but
south-west the land is very fertile. Running through it in a
south-westerly direction is the Gublin Kebbi or Sokoto river,
which joins the Niger in iij° N. 4° E. On a tributary of this
river is the town of Sokoto.
The Sokoto or Fula empire was founded at the beginning
of the i gth century. The country over which the Fula ruled
has, however, a history going back to the middle ages. Between
the Niger and the kingdom of Bornu (q.ii.) the country was
inhabited by various black tribes, of whom the Hausa occupied
the plains. Under the influence of Berber and Arab tribes,
who embraced Mahommedanism, the Hausa advanced in civiliza-
tion, founded large cities, and developed a considerable trade,
not only with the neighbouring countries, but, via .the Sahara,
with the Barbary states. The various kingdoms which 'grew
up round each large town had their own rulers, but in the first
half of the i6th century they all appear to have owned the sway
of the Songhoi kings (see TIMBUKTU). On the break up of the
Songhoi empire the north-eastern part of Hausaland became
more or less subject to Bornu, whose sultans in the I7th century
claimed to rule over Katsena and Kano. In this century arose
a dynasty of the Habe, a name now believed to be identical
with Hausa, who obtained power over a large area of the northern
portion of the present British protectorate. The Hausa, whose
conversion to Mahommedanism began in the izth century,
were still in the i8th century partly pagans, though their rulers
were followers of the Prophet. These rulers built up an elaborate
system of government which left a considerable share in the
management of affairs to the body of the people. Dwelling
among the Hausa were a number of Fula, mostly herdsmen,
and these were devout Mahommedans. One of the more culti-
vated teachers of this race, named Othman Dan Fodio, had
been tutor to the king of Gobir (a district north of Establish-
Sokoto). He incurred the wrath of that king, who, meat of
angered at some act of defiance, ordered the massacre pultt *"'"•
of every Fula in his dominions. The Fula flocked to Fodio's
aid, and in the battle of Koto or Rugga Fakko (1804) the king
of Gobir was utterly defeated. Thereupon Fodio unfurled the
green banner of Mahomet and preached a, jihad or religious war.
In a few years the Fula had subdued most of the Hausa states,
some, like Kano, yielding easily in order to preserve their trade,
others, like Katsena, offering a stubborn resistance. Gobir
and Kebbi remained unconquered, as did the pagan hill tribes.
The Fula were also defeated in their attack on Bornu. In most
places they continued the system of government which had
grown up under the Habe, the chiefs or emirs of the various
:54
SOKOTRA
states being, however, tributary to Dan Fodio. This sheik
established himself at Sokoto, and with other titles assumed
that of Sarikin Muslimin (king of the Mahommedans). As such
he became the recognized spiritual head of all the Mahommedans
of west central Sudan, a headship which his successors retained
unimpaired, even after the loss of their temporal position to the
British in 1903. On the death of Fodio (c. 1819) the empire was
divided between a son and a brother, the son, famous under the
name of Sultan Bello, ruling at Sokoto, the brother at Gando.
All the other Fula emirs were dependent on these two sultanates.
The Fula power proved, before many years had gone by, in
many respects harmful to the country. This was especially
the case in those districts where there was a large pagan
population. Slave-raiding was practised on a scale which
devastated and almost depopulated vast regions and greatly
hampered the commercial activity of the large cities, of which
Zaria and Kano were the most important. The purity of the
ancient administration was abandoned. The courts of justice
became corrupt, administrative power was abused and degener-
ated into a despotism controlled only by personal considerations,
oppressive taxes destroyed industry and gradually desolated
the country. Soon after the Fula had established themselves
Europeans began to visit the country. Hugh Clapperton,
an Englishman, was at Sokoto in 1823 and again in 1827,
dying there on the i3th of April of that year. Heinrich Earth
made a prolonged stay in various Hausa cities at dates between
1851 and 1855. To Barth is due a great deal of our knowledge
of the country. In Earth's time American merchants were
established on the Niger, bartering goods in exchange for slaves.
This traffic was carried on through Nupe " to the great damage,"
says Barth, " of the commerce and the most unqualified scandal
of the Arabs, who think that the English, if they would, could
easily prevent it." The over-seas traffic in slaves did not
continue long after the date (1851) to which Barth referred,
but slave-raiding by the Fula went on unchecked up to the
moment of the British occupation of the country. At
Sokoto the sultanship continued in the hands of Fodio's
descendants, and the reigning sultan concluded in 1885 a
treaty with the Royal Niger Company (then called the
National African Company) which gave to the company certain
rights of sovereignty throughout his dominions.
In 1900 the rights of the company were transferred to the
Crown. In the course of the years 1900, 1901, 1902, British
Submission authority was established in the states bordering
to British on the Niger and the Benue and in Bornu. The
*"'*• northern states declined to fulfil the conditions of
the treaties negotiated with the Niger Company or to submit
to the abolition of the slave trade, and in 1902 Sokoto and
Kano openly defied the British power. A campaign was
undertaken against them in the opening months of 1903 in
which the British troops were entirely successful. Kano was
taken in February 1903, and Sokoto after some resistance made
formal submission on the 22nd of March following. From that
day British authority was substituted for Fula authority through-
out the protectorate. The emir of Sokoto took an oath of
allegiance to the British Crown and Sokoto became a British
province, to which at a later period Gando was added as a sub-
province — thus making of Sokoto one of the double provinces
of the protectorate.
The double province thus constituted has an area of about
35,000 sq. m., with an estimated population of something over
500,000. It includes the ancient kingdoms of Zamfara on the
east and Argunga or Kebbi on the west. The dominions of the
emir of Sokoto have suffered some diminutions by reason of
British agreements with France relating to the common frontier
of the two European powers in the western Sudan. The emir
felt deeply the loss of territory ceded to France in 1904 but
accepted the settlement with much loyalty. Like the emir of
Kano the new emir of Sokoto worked most loyally with the
British administration. The province has been organized on
the same principle as the other provinces of Northern Nigeria.
A British resident of the first class has been placed at Sokoto and
assistant residents at other centres. British courts of justice
have been established and British governors are quartered in
the province. Detachments of civil police are also placed at
the principal stations. The country has been assessed under
the new system for taxes and is being opened as rapidly as
possible for trade. After the establishment of British rule
farmers and herdsmen reoccupied districts and the inhabitants
of cities flocked back to the land, rebuilding villages which had
been deserted for fifty years. Horse breeding and cattle raising
form the chief source of wealth in the province. There is some
ostrich farming. Except in the sandy areas there is extensive
agriculture, including rice and cotton. Special crops are grown
in the valleys by irrigation. Weaving, dyeing and tanning
are the principal native industries. Fair roads are in process
of construction through the province. Trade is increasing and
a cash currency has been introduced.
The emir of Gando, treated on the same terms as the emirs
of Kano and Sokoto, proved less loyal to his oath of allegiance
and had to be deposed. Another emir was installed in his place
and in the whole double province of Sokoto-Gando prosperity
has been general. In 1906 a rising attributed to religious
fanaticism occurred near Sokoto in which unfortunately three
white officers lost their lives. The emir heartily repudiated
the leader of the rising, who claimed to be a Mahdi inspired to
drive the white man out of the country. A British force marched
against the rebels, who were overthrown with great loss in March
1906. The leader was condemned to death in the emir's
court and executed in the market place of Sokoto, and the
incident was chiefly interesting for the display of loyalty to the
British administration which it evoked on all sides from the
native rulers. (See also NIGERIA; FULA; and HAUSA.)
See the Travels of Dr Barth (London 1857); Lady Lugard, A
Tropical Dependency (London, 1905) ; P. L. Monteil, De Saint Louis
a Tripoli par le lac Tchad (Paris, 1895); C. H. Robinson, Hausaland
(London, 1896) ; The Annual Reports on Northern Nigeria, issued since
1900 by the Colonial Office, London; Sir F. D. Lugard, " Northern
Nigeria," in Geo. Journ. vol. xxiii., and Major J. A. Burdon, " The
Fulani Emirates," ibid, vol xxiv. (both London, 1904). Except
the last-named paper most of these authorities deal with many
other subjects besides the Fula. (F. L. L.)
SOKOTRA (also spelt Socotra and formerly Socotora), an
island in the Indian Ocean belonging to Great Britain. It
is cut by 12° 30' N., 54° E., lies about 130 m. E.N.E. of Cape
Guardafui and about 190 m. S.E. of the nearest part of the coast
of Arabia and is on the direct route to India by the Suez Canal.
It is 72 m. long by 22 m. broad and has an area estimated at
from 2000 to 3000 sq. m. It is the largest and most easterly
member of a group of islands rising from adjacent coral banks,
the others being Abd el Kuri, The Brothers (Semha and Darzi) ,
and Kal Farun.
Physical Features. — From the sea Sokotra has an imposing
appearance. The centre culminates in a series of rugged pinnacles
— the Haghier mountains, which rise to nearly 5000 ft. above a high
(1500 ft.) abutting and undulating limestone plateau, deeply _
channelled by valleys. At many parts of the north coast the edges '
of this plateau reach the shore in precipitous cliffs, but in others
low plains, dotted with bushes and date-palms, front the heights
behind. The southern shore is bordered nearly its entire length
by a belt of drifted sand, forming the Nuget plain. On this side
of the island there are but one or two possible anchoring grounds,
and these only during the north-east monsoon. On the north coast
there are no harbours; but fairly safe anchorages, even in the
north-east winds, are available off Hadibu or under Haulaf, a
few miles distant, and at Kallansayia, at the north-west end of the
island.
Geology. — The fundamental rocks of the island are gneisses,
through which cut the feldspathic granites which form the Haghier
massif. Through these, again, pierce other granites in dikes or
lava flows, and overlying the whole are limestones of Cretaceous
and Tertiary age, themselves cut through by later volcanic eruptions.
" In the Haghier hills," to quote Professor Bonney, " we have
probably a fragment of a continental area of great antiquity, and
of a land surface which may have been an ' ark of refuge ' to a terres-
trial fauna and flora from one of the very earliest periods of this
world's history."
Climate. — From October to May the weather is almost rainless
except in the mountains, where there are nightly showers and heavy
mists. During this season the rivers, which are roaring torrents
throughout the monsoon, are almost all lost in the dry, absorbent
SOKOTRA
355
plains. The temperature of the coast area varies from 65° F. in the
night to 85° F. in the day — in the hot season it may reach 95° F. ;
and on the mountains (3500 ft.), from 52° F. to 72° F. In the low
grounds fever of an acute and hematuric form is very prevalent.
Flora and Fauna. — The fauna contains no indigenous mammals,
a wild ass which roams the eastern plains, perhaps its oldest denizen,
is probably of Nubian origin; while the domestic cattle, a peculiar,
unhumped, small, shapely, Alderney-like breed, may be a race
gradually developed from cattle imported at a distant period from
Sind or Farther India. There are 67 species of birds known from
Sokotra, of which 15 are endemic; of 22 reptiles, 3 genera and 14
species are peculiar; and of the land and fresh-water shells, to whose
distribution great importance attaches, 44 species out of 47 are
confined to the island. Among the other invertebrate groups there
is also a large proportion of endemic species.
The flora is even more peculiar than the fauna- Aloes, dragon's-
blood (Dracaena), myrrh, frankincense, pomegranate, and cucumber
(Dendrpcycios) trees are its most famous species. The phanerogams
number 570, apportioned to 314 genera, and of these over 220
species and 98 genera are unknown elsewhere. The flora and also
(though to a less degree) the fauna present not only Asian and Central
African affinities, but, what is more interesting, Mascarene, South
African and Antipodean-American relationships, indicating a
very different distribution of land and water and necessitating
other bridges of communication than now exist. The natural
history of Sokotra, unravelled by the study of its geology and biology,
has been summarized by Professor Balfour as follows : —
" During the Carboniferous epoch there was in the region of
Sokotra a shallow sea, in which was deposited, on the top of the
fundamental gneisses of this spot, . . . the sandstone of which we
have such a large development in Nubia. . . . During the Permian
epoch Sokotra may have been a land surface, forming part of the
great mass of land which probably existed in this region at that epoch,
and gave the wide area for the western migration of life which
presently took place, and by which the eastern affinities in Sokotra
may be explained. In early and middle Tertiary times, when the
Indian peninsula was an island, and the sea which stretched into
Europe washed the base of the Himalayan hills, Sokotra was in
great part submerged and the great mass of limestone was de-
posited; but its higher peaks were still above water, and formed
an island, peopled mainly by African species — the plants being
the fragmentary remains of the old African flora — but with an
admixture of eastern and other Asian forms. Thereafter it gradu-
ally rose, undergoing violent volcanic disturbance."
By this elevation " Madagascar would join the Seychelles, which
m turn . . . would run into the larger Mascarene Islands. In
this way, then, Africa would have an irregular coast-line, prolonged
greatly south of the equator into the Indian Ocean, and running
up with an advance upon the present line until it reached its north-
west limit outside and south of Sokotra. Thence an advanced land
surface of Asia would extend across the Arabian Sea into the Indian
peninsula." Sokotra thus " again became part of the mainland,
though it is likely for only a short period, and during this union the
life of the adjacent continent covered its plains and filled its valleys.
Subsequently it reverted to its insular condition, in which state it
has remained." The Antipodean-American element in the Sokotran
flora probably arrived via the Mascarene Islands or South Africa
from a former Antarctic continent.
Inhabitants. — The inhabitants, believed to number from 10,000
to 12,000, are composed of two, if not more, elements. On the coast
the people are modern Arabs mixed with negro, Indian and European
blood; in the mountains live the true Sokotri, supposed to be origin-
ally immigrants from Arabia, who have been isolated here from time
immemorial. Some of them are as light-skinned as Europeans,
tall, robust, thin-lipped, straight-nosed, with straight black hair;
others are shorter and darker in complexion, with round heads,
long noses, thick lips, and scraggy limbs, indicating perhaps the
commingling of more than one Semitic people. Their manner of
life is simple in the extreme. Their dwellings are circular, rubble-
built, flat, clay-topped houses, or caves in the limestone rocks.
They speak a language allied to the Mahra of the opposite coast of
Arabia. Both Mahra and Sokotri are, according to Dr H. Miiller,
daughter-tongues of the old Sabaean and Minaean, standing in the
same relation to the speech of the old inscriptions as Coptic does to
that of the hieroglyphics. The Sokotran tongue has been, he
believes, derived from the Mahra countries, but it has become so
differentiated from the Mahra that the two peoples understand
each other only with difficulty. Sokotri is the older of the two
languages, and retains the ancient form, which in the Mahran has
been modified by Arabic and other influences. Hadibu, Kallansayia
and Khadup are the only places of importance in the island. Hadibu,
or Tamarida (pop. about 400) the capital, is picturesquely situated
on the north coast at the head of the open bay of Tamarida on a
semicircular plain enclosed by spurs of the Haghier mountains. A
dense grove of date palms surrounds the village.
Trade and Products. — The chief export is ghi or clarified butter,
which is sent to Arabia, Bombay and Zanzibar. Millet, cotton and
tobacco are grown in small quantities. The most valuable vegetable
products are aloes and the dragon's-blood tree. The Sokotran aloe
is highly esteemed ; in the middle ages the trade was mostly in these
products and in ambergris. The people live mainly on dates and
milk. They own large numbers of cattle, sheep and goats. Dates
are both home-grown and imported.
History. — Sokotra has claims to be reckoned one of the most
ancient incense-supplying countries. Among the " harbours
of incense " exploited by various Pharaohs during some twenty-
five centuries it is impossible to believe that the island could be
missed by the Egyptian galleys on their way to the " Land of
Punt," identified by several writers with Somaliland; nor that,
though the roadsteads of the African coast were perhaps oftener
frequented, and for other freights besides myrrh and frankin-
cense, the shores of Sokotra were neglected by such ardent
explorers as those, for instance, of Queen Hatshepsut of the
1 8th dynasty. They would have found on the island, which
is probably referred to under the name " Terraces of Incense "
(from its step-like contours), the precious " auta trees " — whose
divine dew, for use in the service of their gods, was their special
quest — in greater abundance and in a larger number of species
than any other country.
To the Greeks and Romans Sokotra was known as the isle
of Dioscorides; this name, and that by which the island is now
known, are usually traced back to a Sanskrit form, Dvlpa-Sak-
ha.dha.ra, " the island abode of bliss," which again suggests
an identification with the vrjaoi tvdainovts of Agatharchides
(§ 103). The Periplus of the Erythraean Sea speaks of the
island as peopled only in one part by a mixed race of Arab,
Indian and Greek traders. It was subject to the king of the
Incense Country, and was a meeting-place of Arabian and Indian
ships. Cosmas in the 6th century says that the people spoke
Greek and were largely Christian, with a bishop sent from Persia.
The Arab geographers also had a tradition of an early Greek
settlement (which they ascribe to Alexander), but also of later
Persian influence, followed by a settlement of Mahra tribes,
who partly adopted Christianity. The Sokotri appear to have
remained Nestorian Christians, with a bishop under the metro-
politan of Persia, through the middle ages, though there are indi-
cations pointing to a connexion with the Jacobite church. As
early as the loth century Sokotra was a haunt of pirates; in the
i3th century Abulfeda describes the inhabitants as " Nestorian
Christians and pirates " but the island was rather a station of
the Indian corsairs who harassed the Arab trade with the Far
East. The population seems in the middle ages to have been
much larger than it is now; Arabian writers estimate the fighting
men at 10,000.
The Portuguese under Tristao da Cunha and Albuquerque
seized Sokotra in 1507 in pursuance of the design to control all
the trade routes between Europe and the East, Sokotra being
supposed to command the entrance to the Red Sea. But on the
capture of Goa and the building of a fortress there Albuquerque
caused the fort which da Cunha had had built at Coco (Tamarida
to be dismantled (1511), and though Portuguese ships subse-
quently raided the island they made no other settlement on it.
The Portuguese found that Sokotra was held by Arabs from
Fartak, but the " natives " (a different race) were Christians,
though in sad need of conversion. This pious work Portuguese
priests attempted, but with scant success. However, as late
as the middle of the I7th century the Carmelite P. Vincenzo
found that the people still called themselves Christians,
and had a strange mixture of Jewish, Christian and Pagan
rites. The women were all called Maria. No trace of Christi-
anity is now found in the island, all the inhabitants professing
Islam.
A certain dependence (at least of places on the coast) on some
soveieign of the Arabian coast had endured before the occupa-
tion of Tamarida by da Cunha, and on the withdrawal of
the Portuguese this dependence on Arabia was resumed. In
the igth century Sokotra formed part of the dominions of the
sultan of Kishin. The opening of the Suez Canal route to India
led to the island being secured for Great Britain. From 1876
onward a small subsidy has been paid to the sultan of Kishin
by the authorities at Aden; and in 1886 the sultan concluded
SOLANACEAE
a treaty formally placing Sokotra and its dependencies under the
protection of Great Britain. Sokotra is regarded as a depen-
dency of Aden, but native rule is maintained, the local governor
or viceroy of the sultan of Kishin being a member of that chief's
family, and also styled sultan. Since it came under British
control the island has been visited by various scientific expedi-
tions. Professor Bayley Balfour made an investigation in 1880,
expeditions were headed by Drs Riebeck and Schweinfurth in
1881, by Theodore Bent in 1897, and by Dr H. O. Forbes and
Mr Ogilvie-Grant (who also visited Abd-el-Kuri) in 1898-1899.
Simultaneously with the last named a further expedition,
conducted by Professor D. H. Miiller, under the auspices of
the Imperial Academy of Sciences of Vienna, visited Sokotra,
Abd-el-Kuri and some other islets of the group to investigate
their geology and languages. With the Indian government
the relations of the Sokotri have occasionally been strained,
owing to their liratical tendencies.
ABD-EL-KURI island lies 6p m. W.S.W. of Sokotra, and 53 m.
E.N.E. from Cape Guardafui, is 20 m. long by 3$ m. in width. At either
end the island is hilly, the central part being a low plateau. On
the north side is a sandy beach; on the south cliffs rise abruptly
from the ocean. The highest part of the island is towards its eastern
end, where the hills rise to 1670 ft. It is largely arid and there are
no permanent streams. Its zoology resembles that of Sokotra,
but the fauna includes land shells and scorpions peculiar to Abd-el-
Kuri. The inhabitants, who number one to two hundred, speak
Sokotri and Arabic and are chiefly engaged in diving for pearl shell
on the Bacchus Bank N.E. of the island. They live chiefly on
turtle (which abounds in the island), fish and molluscs. The land
is nowhere cultivated.
Kal Farun is the name of two rocky islets rising nearly 300 ft.
above the sea 13 m. N.N.E. of the western end of Abd-el-Kuri.
Birds flock to them in great numbers; in consequence they are
completely covered with guano, which gives them a snow-white
appearance. The Brothers (often called by the older navigators
The Sisters) lie between Abd-el-Kuri and Sokotra. Semha is 6j m.
long and 3 m. broad. It has rocky shores and rises in a table-shaped
mountain to 2440 ft. As in Abd-el-Kuri ambergris is found on its
snores and turtles abound. There is running water all the year.
It is a fishing ground of the Sokotri. Darzi lies 9 m. E. by S. of
Semha, is 35 m. long by I m. broad and rises almost perpendicularly
from the sea to 1500 ft. The top is flat. The coral banks which
surround Sokotra and The Brothers are united and are not more
than 30 fathoms below sea-level; a valley some 100 fathoms deep
divides them from the bank around Abd-el-Kuri, while between
Abd-el-Kuri and Cape Guardafui are depths of over 500 fathoms.
See, for the history of Sokotra, Yule, Marco Polo (1903 ed.) ii.
'406-410, and, besides the authorities there cited, Yakut, s.v. ;
Hamda.ni p. 52; Kazwini ii. 54. Consult also the Commentaries of
Afonso Dalboquerque, W. de G. Birch's translation (London 1875-
1884). For the state of the island at the beginning of the l8th century
see the account of the French expedition to Yemen in 1708 (Viaggio
nell' Arabia Felice: Venice, 1721); and, for the igth century, J. R.
Wellsted, City of the Caliphs, vol. ii. (London, 1840), and Mrs J. T.
Bent, Southern Arabia, Soudan and Sokotra (London, 1900). For
the topography, &c., see Red Sea and Gulf of Aden Pilot (sth ed.
London, 1900). For special studies see I. B. Balfour, Botany of
Socotra (Edinburgh, 1888); G. Schweinfurth, Das Volk von Socotra
(Leipzig, 1883); H. O. Forbes (edited by), The Natural History of
Sokotra and Abd-el-Kuri (Liverpool, 1903); F. Kossmat, Geologie der
Inseln Sokotra, Semha und Abd el Kuri (Vienna, 1902) ; R. V. Wett-
stein in Vegetationsbilder (3rd series, Jth pt., Jena, 1906). See also
J. Jackson, Socotra, Notes bibliographiques (Paris, 1892), a complete
bibliography to the year of publication. (H. O. F. ; X.)
SOLANACEAE, in botany, an order of Dicotyledons belonging
to the sub-class Sympetalae (or Gamopetalae) and to the
series Tubiflorae, containing 75 genera with about 1500 species,
widely distributed through the tropics, but passing into the
temperate zones. The chief centre of the order lies in Central
and South America; 32 of the genera are endemic in this region.
It is represented in Britain by three genera including 4 species:
Hyoscyamus niger (henbane), Solatium Dulcamara (Bittersweet)
and 5. nigrum and Alropa Belladonna (Deadly Nightshade).
The plants are herbs, shrubs or small trees. Solanum nigrum,
a common weed in waste places, is a low-growing annual herb;
5. Dulcamara is an irregularly climbing herb perennial by means
of a widely creeping rhizome; Atropa Belladonna is a large perennial
herb. The genus Solanum, to which belong more than half the
number of species in the order, contains plants of very various
habits including besides herbs, shrubs and trees. The leaves are
generally alternate, but in the flower-bearing parts of the stem are
often in pairs, an arrangement which, like the extra-axillary position
of the flowers or cymes, results from a congenital union of axes.
Thus in Datura (thorn apple) (fig. I A), where the branching is
dichasial, the leaf which originates at any given node becomes
ffl
FIG. I. — Diagrams illustrating branch development in Solanaceae,
in A. Datura Stramonium, B. Atropa Belladonna.
I, II, III, Flowers on inflorescences of successive orders; b, bract
of I; a, ft, bracts of II; a', ft', bracts of III, and so on. In A the
branching is dichasial and the bracts are adnate to their axillary
shoots up to the points at which the next branches arise; thus a
and ft appear to arise from axis II, though in reality originating
on axis I. In B the branching is cincinnal, one of the two branches
at each node is undeveloped and its bract a, a', a" is smaller than
the other member of the pair, ft, ft', which is adnate to and
apparently carried up on its axillary branch.
raised upon its axillary shoot as far as the next higher node, from
which it appears to spring. In Atropa Belladonna (fig. I B) one of
the branches at each node is undeveloped and there is a pair of
unequal leaves; the smaller subtends the branch which has not
developed, the larger has been carried up from the node below.
An interesting anatomical feature is the presence in the stem
of bicollateral bundles — that is, the vascular bundles have phloem
on the inside as well as on the outside of the xylem.
The hermaphrodite, generally regular, flowers have the parts in
fives, 5 sepals, 5 petals, 5 stamens in alternating whorls, and two
carpels, which are generally placed obliquely (see fig. 2, floral diagram).
The sepals persist and often become enlarged in the fruit. The
FIG. 2. — Floral diagram of FIG. 3. — Floral diagram of
Solanum — the arrow indicates Schizanthus — the arrow indicates
the oblique symmetry of the the oblique symmetry. Two
flower. stamens only are functional.
corolla is regular and rotate as in Solanum (fig. 2), or bell-shaped
as in Atropa, or somewhat irregular as in Hyoscyamus; in the tribe
Salpiglossideae, which forms a link with the closely allied order
Scrophulariaceae, it is zygomorphic, form-
ing, e.g. as in Schizanthus (fig. 3), a two-
lipped flower. The stamens are inserted on
the corolla tube and alternate with its lobes ;
in zygomorphic flowers only two or four
fertile stamens are present ; the bilocular
anthers open by slits or pores (fig. 4). The
flowers are generally conspicuous and
adapted to insect pollination; honey is
secreted on the disk at the .base of the
ovary or at the bottom of the corolla tube
between the stamens. The ovary is usually a species of Solanum,
bilocular, but in Capsicum becomes uni- showing the divergence
jocular above, while in some cases an Of the anther-lobes at
in-growth of a secondary septum makes it the base< and the dehis-
4-celled as in Datura, or irregularly 3- to cence by pores at the
5-celled as in Nicandra. The anatropous apex a.
ovules are generally numerous on swollen
axile placentas, sometimes few as in Cestrum, a large American genus
with tubular flowers, species of which are grown in Britain as green-
house plants; the simple style bears a bilobed or sometimes capitate
stigma (fig. 5). The fruit is a many-seeded berry, as in Solanum, or
FIG. 4. — Stamen of
SOLAR— SOLAR SYSTEM
357
capsule, as in Datura, where it splits lengthwise, and Hyoscyamus (fig.
6), where it opens by a transverse lid forming a pyxidium. The embryo
is bent or straight and embedded in endo-
sperm. The persistent ca.lyx may serve to
protect the fruit or aid in its distribution,
as in the bladdery structure enveloping
the fruit of Physalis or the prickly calyx
of species of Solatium.
The order is divided into 5 tribes; the
division is based on the greater or less
curvature of the embryo, the number of
ovary cells and the regular or zygomorphic
character of the flower. The great majority
of the genera belong to the tribe Solaneae,
which is characterized by a 2-celled ovary.
Lycium is a genus of trees or shrubs, often
thorny, with a cylindrical or narrowly bell-
shaped corolla and a juicy berry; L. europ-
aeum is a straggling climber often cultivated
under the name of tea-plant. For Atropa
see NIGHTSHADE; A. Belladonna yields the
drug atropin. For Hyoscyamus see HEN-
BANE. Physalis, with 45 species mostly in
FIG. 5.— The pistil of
Tobacco (Nicotiana Ta-
bacum), consisting of
the ovary o, containing
ovules, the style 5, and
the capitate stigma g.
The pistil is placed on
the receptacle r, at the
extremity of the pe-
duncle.
FIG. 6.— Seed-vessel (pyxidium)
of Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger)
opening by circumscissile dehis-
the warmer parts of North and South America, includes P. alkekengi,
" winter cherry," and P. peruviana, " Cape gooseberry." Capsicum
(q.v.) is widely cultivated for its fruit, which are the so-called chillies.
Solanum contains 900 species, among which are 5. tuberosum (potato ;
q.v.), S. Lycopersicum (tomato; q.v.), and the two British species
already mentioned. For Mandragora see MANDRAKE. To the
tribe Datureae, characterized by a 4-celled ovary, belongs Datura;
D. Stramonium (thorn apple), sometimes found as aa escape
in Britain, is officinal. Nicotiana, to which belong the tobacco
plant (N. tabacum) and other cultivated species, and Petunia,
are American genera belonging to the tribe Cestreae, in which
the embryo is straight or only slightly bent, as it is also in the
tribe Salpiglossideae, which is characterized by the zygomprphy of
the flowers ; Salpiglossis and Schizanthus are known in cultivation.
SOLAR, SOLLER (Lat. solarium, Fr. galetas, Ital. solaio), in
architecture, a room in some high situation, a loft or garret,
also an elevated chamber in a church from which to watch the
lamps burning before the altars. The Latin solarium was
used principally of a sundial, but also of a sunny part of a
house.
SOLARIO, ANTONIO (c. 1382-1455), Italian painter of the
Neapolitan school, commonly called Lo Zingaro, or The Gipsy.
His father is said to have been a travelling smith. To all
appearance Antonio was born at Civita in the Abruzzi, although
it is true that one of his pictures is signed " Antonio de Solario
Venetus," which may possibly be accounted for on the ground
that the signature is not genuine. Solario is said to have gone
through a love-adventure similar to that of the Flemish painter,
Quintin Massys. He was at first a smith, and did a job of work
in the house of the prime Neapolitan painter Colantonio del
Fiore; he fell in love with Colantonio's daughter, and she with
him; and the father, to stave him off, said if he would come back
in ten years an accomplished painter the young lady should
be his. Solario studied the art, returned in nine years, and
claimed and obtained his bride. The fact is that Colantonio
del Fiore is one of those painters who never existed; consequently
his daughter never existed, and the whole story, as relating to
these particular personages, must be untrue. Whether it has
any truth, in relation to some unidentified painter and his
daughter, is a separate question which we cannot decide. Solario
made an extensive round of study — first with Lippo Dalmasio
in Bologna, and afterwards in Venice, Ferrara, Florence and
Rome. On returning to Naples he rapidly took the first place
in his art. His principal performance is in the court of the
monastery of S. Severino — twenty large frescoes illustrating .
the life of St Benedict, now greatly decayed; they present a
vast variety of figures and details, with dexterous modelling
and colouring. Sometimes, however, Lo Zingaro's colour is
crude, and he generally shows weakness of draughtmanship in
hands and feet. His tendency is that of a naturalist — the heads
lifelike and individual, and the landscape backgrounds better
invented and cared for than in any contemporary. In the Studj
gallery of Naples are three pictures attributed to this master,
the. most remarkable one being a "Madonna and Child Enthroned
with Saints." The heads here are reputed to be mostly portraits.
Solario initiated a mode of art new in Naples; and the works
painted between his time and that of Tesauro (c. 1470) are locally
termed " Zingareschi." He had many scholars, but not of
pre-eminent standing — Nicola Vito, Simone Papa, Angiolillo
Roccadirame, Pietro and Ippolito dal Donzello. It has often
been said that Solario painted in oil, but of this there is no
evidence.
SOLAR SYSTEM, in astronomy, the group of heavenly bodies,
comprising the sun and the bodies which move around the sun
as a centre of attraction, of which the Earth is one. These
bodies may be classified as follows: first the Sun, 0,
distinguished as containing much the greater part of all the
matter composing the system, being more than 600 times as
massive as all the other bodies combined. It is this great mass
which makes it the central one of the system. It is also, so far
as is known, the only incandescent body of the system, and
therefore the only one that shines by its own light. Secondly,
planets. The bodies of this class consist of eight major planets
moving round the sun at various distances, and of an unknown
number of minor planets, much smaller than the major planets,
forming a separate group. Thirdly, satellites, or secondary
planets revolving around the major planets, and therefore
accompanying them in their revolutions around the sun. A
fourth class of bodies, the constitution of which is still in some
doubt, comprises comets and meteors. These differ in that
comets are visible either in a telescope or to the naked eye,
and seem to be either wholly or partially of a nebulous
or gaseous character, while meteors are, individually at least,
invisible to us except as they become incandescent by striking
the atmosphere of the earth. It is, however, an open question
whether a comet is other than an accumulation of meteoric
bodies (see COMET).
The major planets are separated into two groups of four each,
between which the minor planets, for the most part, revolve.
The arrangement of the major planets, with the numbers of
their respective satellites thus far known, in the order of distance
from the sun, is as follows: —
The first group in order — the smaller major planets —
comprises : —
Mercury, £, with no known satellite;
Venus, 9, with no known satellite;
The Earth, ©, with one satellite, the moon;
Mars, (f, with two satellites.
Outside of this group lies the zone of minor planets or
asteroids.
The outer group of major planets comprises: —
Jupiter, QJ., with eight satellites;
Saturn, T?, with ten satellites;
Uranus, § or Jji, with four satellites;
Neptune, ^, with one satellite.
The distances separating the individual orbits in each group
seem to approximate to a certain order of progression, expressed
in Bode'slaw (see BODE). But there is an obvious gap between
the two groups of major planets which is filled by the group
of minor planets. Taking the mean distance of this group as
that of a planet, the distance of the major planets closely
approximates to Bode's law, except in the case of Neptune.
A remarkable feature of the solar system, which distinguishes
it from all other known systems in the universe, is the symmetry
of arrangement and motion of its greater bodies. All the major
planets and many of the minor planets revolve in elliptic
358
SOLDER— SOLEU RE
orbits so nearly circular in form that the unaided eye woulc
not notice the deviation from that form. But as the orbit
are not centred on the sun, which is in a focus of each, the
displacement of the seeming circle would be readily seen
in the case of Mercury and of Mars. The same statement
are true of the orbits of the satellites around their primaries.
The major planets -all move around the sun in the same
direction, from west to east, in orbits but little inclined to
each other. All the known minor planets have the same
common direction, but their orbits generally have a greater
eccentricity and mutual inclination. The general rule is that
the satellites also move round in the same direction, and in
orbits of moderate inclination. Exceptions occur in the case
of the satellites of Uranus, which are nearly perpendicular to the
plane of the orbit. The satellite of Neptune, and one satellite,
Phoebe, of Saturn, are also quite exceptional, the direction of
motion being retrograde.
For the elements of the orbits, and the general character of
the several planets see PLANET. Details as to each are found under
the respective names of the several planets. (S. N.)
SOLDER (derived through the French from Lat. soldare,
to make solidus, firm) , an alloy easily melted and used for uniting
as by a metallic cement two'metal surfaces, joints, edges, &c.
(See BRAZING AND SOLDERING.)
SOLE (Solea), the most valuable of European flat-fishes.1
For most people who look at fish merely from the culinary point
of view, soles are of two kinds: true soles, with such varieties
as Dover soles and Brixham soles (slips being the name applied
to young specimens), and lemon soles, an inferior fish, which is
no sole at all, but a sort of dab (Glyptocephalus microcephalus).
Leaving out the latter, there are five species on the British coasts;
the common sole (Solea vulgaris) the French sole, or sand sole
lemon sole of Yarrell (S. lascaris), the thick-back (S. variegata),
and the solenette or little sole (S. lutea). All these agree in
the right side being coloured and bearing the eyes, in the elongate
form, in the small eyes (separated by a space covered with scaly
skin, in the small, twisted mouth, with minute teeth on the
colourless side only), and with the snout projecting beyond the
mouth and more or less hooked. All true soles are excellent,
but the common species is the only one which, from its larger
size, growing to a length of 26 in. and attaining maturity at a
length of about 10 in., regularly appears on all the markets. It
occurs from the south-west coast of Scandinavia, Mecklenburg
and Great Britain to the Mediterranean. Most of the best
fishing grounds for soles lie comparatively near land, though
the spawning takes place some miles away.
Much information on the life history of the sole will be found in
the monograph by J. T. Cunningham (Plymouth, 1890).
SOLEMN (Lat. sollemnis, sollennis, less correctly solennis,
yearly, annual; from sollus=totus, whole, entire, Gr. oXos, and
annus, year), properly that which occurs annually, hence at
stated intervals, regular, established; the term being particularly
used of religious rites or ceremonies which recur at stated inter-
vals, hence festive, sacred, marked by religious ceremony or
ritual, and so grave, impressive, serious, the most general
current usage. Another branch of meaning stresses the formal,
customary aspect; and hence in such phrases as " solemn act,"
probate in " solemn form," it means that which is done with all
due forms and ceremonies.
SOLENT, THE, a strait of the English Channel, between the
mainland (the coast of Hampshire, England), and the north-
western coast of the Isle of Wight, forming the western entrance
to Southampton Water, Spithead being the eastern. Its
length, from the eastern shore of Southampton Water to the
Needles rocks off the western extremity of Wight, is 15 m.
The general breadth is from i\ to 3 m., but between Stone
Point on the mainland and Egypt Point on the north coast of
Wight it narrows to ij m.; and 35 m. north of the Needles there
springs from the mainland a great shingle bank, mostly only a
few yards in breadth above water, but nearly 2 m. in length.
1 The American sole (Achirus fasciatus) is a small flat-fish of
inferior quality.
It reduces the breadth of the Solent to a little over £ m., and
broadens at the end, on which stands Hurst Castle, an important
fortification dating from the time of Henry VIII. Here Charles I.
was imprisoned in 1648. The coast of the mainland is low
but picturesque, and is broken by the shallow estuaries of the
Beaulieu River and the Lym, with the small port of Lymington
upon it. The coast of Wight rises more steeply. On this side
the Medina estuary opens northward, and those of the Newtown
and the Yar north-westward into the strait. At the mouth of
Southampton Water is a projecting bar resembling but smaller
than that of Hurst Castle, and like it bearing a Tudor fortress,
Calshot Castle. The Solent is frequently the scene of yacht
races. The configuration of the coast causes a double tide in
the strait.
SOLESMES, a village of western France on the left bank
of the Sarthe in the department of Sarthe, 29 m. W.S.W. of
Le Mans by road. In 1010 a priory was founded at Solesmes
and placed under the authority of the abbey of La Couture of
Le Mans. Suppressed at the revolution, it was established as a
Benedictine monastery in 1830. In 1837 it was raised to the
rank of abbey and became a centre of learning,- the music here
was also famous. A nunnery was afterwards founded beside it,
but both institutions were abandoned after the passing of the
associations law in 1901. The monastery, rebuilt at the end
of the ipth century, forms a lofty mass of buildings on the river
bank. Its church (i3th and i6th centuries) is interesting only
for the possession of two masterpieces of sculpture of uncertain
authorship, executed approximately between 1490 and 1550.
The most sl,riking represents the burial of Christ and is sheltered
by a stone structure, the front of which is beautifully carved.
An arched opening in this front reveals the central group of
eight figures surrounding the tomb, that of Mary Magdalen in
the foreground being remarkably lifelike and expressive. The
other work similarly enclosed represents the burial of the
Virgin and is the later of the two in date and in the pure Renais-
sance style. Sculptures representing Jesus among the Doctors
and other scenes are also in the church.
SOLETO, a village of Apulia, Italy, in the province of Lecce,
from which it is n m. S. by rail, situated 299 ft. above sea-
level. Pop. (i 901) , 3349. The Romanesque church of S. Stefano
contains Byzantine frescoes of the I4th century similar to those
in the subterranean chapel of the Santi Stefani at Vaste, south
of Otranto, and others showing the formation of an independent
style. The fine, richly decorated campanile adjoining the former
cathedral was erected in 1397.
SOLEURE (Ger. Solothurn), one of the cantons of north-
western Switzerland. Its total area is 305-5 sq. m., of which
294 sq. m. are reckoned as "productive," 111-3 sq. m. being
covered by forests and -29 sq. m. by vineyards. Save two small
districts in its southern portion the whole canton is situated
in the Jura range, while it is said to be the most irregular in
shape of all the Swiss cantons, this being accounted for by the
Fact that it consists simply of the territories won at differetit dates
by the town from which it takes its name. It includes most of
the Aar valley between the towns of Bienne and Aarau, neither
of which is in the canton, while in its northern portion the waters
join the Birs River, and in its southern portion is the last bit
of the Emme before its junction with the Aar. It comprises
three isolated districts, of which one (Steinhof) on the south is
an " enclave " in the canton of Bern, while the others, Hofstet-
ten, that includes the famous pilgrimage resort of Mariastein,
and Klein Liitzel, are on the Alsatian frontier, and bounded by
the cantons of Bern and of Basel. The highest point in the
canton is the Hasenmatt (4748 ft.) which forms the culminating
summit of the Weissenstein ridge, that rises just north-west
of the town of Soleure, and boasts of an hotel well-known as a
;reat centre for the air and whey cure. The canton is well
supplied in its southern portion with railways, the main line
'rom Bienne to Aarau running through it past the great junction
of Olten, where the direct lines from Lucerne by the St Gotthard,
rom Bern, from Zurich, and from Basel all unite. Formerly the
districts composing the canton were in the dioceses cf Lausanne,
SOLEURE
359
Basel and Constance, but since the complete reorganization
of 1814 they are all in the diocese of Basel, the bishop of which
has his chair in Soleure. In 1900 the population was 100,762,
of whom 97,930 were German-speaking, 1912 French-speaking,
and 829 Italian-speaking, while 69,461 were " Catholics " (the
census dqes not distinguish between Romanists and Christian
Catholics, who are still fairly strong here), 31,012 Protestants,
and 159 Jews. The capital is Soleure, while the only other
important town is Olten (6969 inhabitants). Between Soleure
and Granges or Grenchen (5202 inhabitants) is the village of
Selzach, where since 1893 a passion-play has been performed
every summer by the inhabitants.
Till about 1850 the canton was mainly agricultural and
pastoral, its pastures numbering 209, capable of supporting
4179 cows and of an estimated capital value of 2,395,215 francs.
Nowadays it is distinguished for the variety of its industries,
especially in and around Soleure and Olten, among them being
watch-making, shoe-factories, cotton-spinning and cement
factories.
The canton is divided into ten administrative districts, that
comprise 132 communes. The present cantonal constitution
dates from 1887, but was revised as to some Important points
in 1895. The Kanlonsrat, or legislative assembly, is elected
(since 1895 according to the principles of proportional repre-
sentation) by all citizens over twenty years of age, in the pro-
portion of one member to 800 inhabitants. Since 1895 the
people have elected the Regierungsrat or executive, consisting
of five members. In both cases the period of office is four
years, though on the demand of 4000 citizens a popular vote
must be taken as to whether the existing members shall
continue to sit or not. In the canton the " obligatory refer-
endum " and the " initiative " have obtained since 1875. By
the former all laws passed by the legislative assembly, and all
financial resolutions involving the expenditure of 100,000 francs,
or of an annual sum of 15,000 francs, must be approved by a
popular vote. By the latter 2000 citizens can compel the
legislative assembly to consider any proposal for making a new
law or for amending an old one. Further, the demand of the
majority of the assembly or of 3000 citizens is sufficient to
necessitate a popular vote as to the advisability of revising
the constitution, the revised draft itself requiring a further
popular vote. The two members of the federal Standerat and
the five members of the federal Nationalrat are also chosen by
a popular vote.
AUTHORITIES. — J. Amiet, Das St Ursus Pfarr-Stift d. Stadt Soleure,
6 pts. (Soleure, 1878-1890), and Die Grundungs-Sage der Schwester-
stadte, Solothurn, Zurich, und Trier (Soleure, 1890); G. Bloch,
Bilder aus d. Ambassadorenherrschaft in Soleure, 1554-7791, (Biel,
1898); W. Flury, Die industrielle Entwickelung d. Kant. S. (Soleure,
1908); K. Meisterhans, Alteste Geschichte d. Kant. Soleure bis 687
(Soleure, 1900); J. R. Rahn, Die MiMalt. Kunstdenkmaler d. Cant.
Soleure (Zurich, 1893); K. E. Schuppli, Geschichte der Stadtverfassung
von Soleure (Basel, 1897); P. Strohmeier, Der Kant. Soleure (St
Gall and Bern, 1836); A. Striiby, Die Weidewirthschaft im Kant.
Soleure (Soleure, 1896); and E. Tatarinoff, Die Betheiligung
Solothurns am Schwabenkrieg, 1400 (Soleure, 1899).
(W. A. B. C.)
SOLEURE, the capital of the Swiss canton of that name,
is an ancient little town, almost entirely situated on the left
bank of the Aar. It was a Roman castrum, remains of which
still exist, on the highway from Avenches to Basel, while its
position at the foot of the Jura and close to the navigable portion
of the Aar has always made it a meeting-point of various routes.
Five railway lines now branch thence, while a sixth has been
recently added, the tunnel beneath the Weissenstein to Moutier
Grandval having been completed. It was strongly fortified
in 1667-1727, but since 1830 these defences have been removed
for reasons of practical convenience. Its chief building is the
minster of SS Ursus and Victor, which dates from the i8th
century, though it stands on the site of a far older edifice.
Since 1828 it has been the cathedral church of the bishop of
Basel, but in 1874 its chapter was suppressed. The ancient
clock tower has a quaint 16th-century clock, while the older
portions of the town-hall date still further back. The early
17th-century arsenal contains the finest collection of armour and
old weapons in Switzerland, while the modern museum houses
a splendid collection of fossils from the Jura, the specimens
of Alpine rocks collected by F. J. Hugi (1796-1855), a native
of Soleure, and a Madonna by the younger Holbein. The
building now used as the cantonal school was formerly the
residence of the French ambassadors to the Swiss confederation
from 1530 to 1797. There are some fine 16th-century fountains
in the little town, which in its older portions still keeps much
of its medieval aspect, though in the modern suburbs and in the
neighbouring villages there is a certain amount of industrial
activity. The Polish patriot Kosciusko died here in 1817;
his heart is preserved at Rapperswil, but his body is buried
at Cracow. In 1900 the town had 10,025 inhabitants, almost
all German-speaking, while there were 6098 " Catholics "
(either Romanists or Christian Catholics), 3814 Protestants
and 8 1 Jews. In 1904 there were twenty churches or chapels
in the town itself. One mile north of the town is the Hermitage
of St Verena, in a striking rock gorge, above which rises the
Weissenstein ridge, the hotel on which (4223 ft.) is much
frequented in summer for the air and whey cure as well as for
the glorious Alpine panorama that it cdmmands.
A 16th-century rhyme claims for the town of Soleure the fame
of being the oldest place in " Celtis " save Trier. Certainly its
name, " Salodurum," is found in Roman inscriptions, and its
position as commanding the approach to the Rhine from the
south-west has led to its being more than once strongly fortified.
Situated just on the borders of Alamannia and Burgundy, it
seems to have inclined to the allegiance of the latter, and it was
at Soleure that in 1038 the Burgundian nobles made their final
submission to the German king, Conrad II. The medieval
town grew up round the house of secular canons founded in the
loth century in honour of St Ursus and St Victor (two of the
Theban legion who are said to have been martyred here in 302)
by Queen Bertha, the wife of Rudolph II., king of Burgundy,
and was in the diocese of Lausanne. The prior and canons
had many rights over the town, but criminal jurisdiction
remained with the kings of Burgundy, then passed to the
Zahringen dynasty, and on its extinction in 1218 reverted to the
emperor. The city thus became a free imperial city, and in
1252 shook off the jurisdiction of the canons and took them
under its protection. In 1295 we find it allied with Bern, and
this connexion is the key to its later history. It helped Bern
in 1298 in the great fight against the nobles at Dornbiihl, and
again at Laupen in 1339 against the jealous Burgundian nobles.
It was besieged in 1318 by Duke Leopold of Austria, but he was
compelled to withdraw. In the I4th century the government
of the town fell into the hands of the gilds, whose members
practically filled all the public offices. Through Bern, Soleure
was drawn into association with the Swiss Confederation. An
attempt to surprise it in 1382, made by the Habsburgs, was
foiled, and resulted in the admittance of Soleure in 1385 into
the Swabian League and in its sharing in the Sempach War.
Though Soleure took no part in that battle, it was included in
the Sempach ordinance of 1393 and in the great treaty of 1394
by which the Habsburgs renounced their claims to all territories
within the Confederation. In 1411 Soleure sought in vain to
be admitted into the Confederation, a privilege only granted
to her in 1481 at the diet of Stans, after she had taken part in
the Aargau, Italian, Toggenburg, and Burgundian Wars. It
was also in the isth century that by purchase or conquest the
town acquired the main part of the territories forming the
present canton. In 1529 the majority of the " communes "
went over to the reformed faith, and men were sent to fight on
Zwingli's side at Kappel (1531), but in 1533 the old faith regained
its sway, and in 1586 Soleure was a member of the Golden, or
Borromean, League. Though the city ruled the surrounding
districts, the peasants were fairly treated, and hence their revolt
in 1653 was not so desperate as in other places. Soleure
was the usual residence of the French ambassador from 1530 to
1797, and no doubt this helped on the formation of a " patri-
ciate," for after 1681 no fresh citizens were admitted, and later
36°
SOLFATARA— SOLICITOR
we find only twenty-five ruling families distributed over the
eleven gilds. Serfage was abolished by Soleure in 1785. The
old system of the city ruling over eleven bailiwicks came to an
end in March 1798, when Soleure opened its gates to the French
army, and it was one of the six " directorial " cantons under the
1803 constitution. In 1814 the old aristocratic government
was set up again, but this was finally broken down in 1831,
Soleure in 1832 joining the league to guarantee the maintenance
of the new cantonal constitutions. Though distinctly a Roman
Catholic canton, it did not join the " Sonderbund," and voted
in favour of the federal constitutions of 1848 and 1874.
(W. A. B. C.)
SOLFATARA, a volcanic vent emitting vapours chiefly of
sulphurous character, whence the name, from the Italian solfo
(sulphur). The typical example is the famous Solfatara, near
Puzzuoli, in the Phlegraean Fields, west of Naples. This is an
old crater which has not been in active eruption since A.D. 1198,
but which is continuously exhaling heated vapours, chiefly
hydrogen sulphide, sulphur dioxide and steam. These issue
from orifices in the crust, on the walls of which are yellow
incrustations of sublimed sulphur, sometimes orange-red by
association with arsenic sulphide, whilst the trachytic rocks of
the volcano are bleached and corroded by the effluent vapours,
with formation of such products as gypsum and alum. Sal
ammoniac occurs among the sublimates. The term solfatara
has been extended to all dormant volcanoes of this type; and a
volcano which has ceased to emit lava or ashes but still evolves
heated vapours, is said to have passed into the " solfataric
stage." Examples are to be found in many volcanic districts.
By French geologists the term soufrttre is used instead of the
Italian solfatara. (See VOLCANOES.)
SOLFERINO, a village of Lombardy, Italy, in the province
of Mantua, 5 m. S.W. of San Martino della Battaglia (a railway
station 72 m. E. of Milan on the line to Verona), situated
410 ft. above sea-level, on the south-west edge of the hills
bordering the Lake of Garda on the south. Pop. (1901), 1350.
It was the scene of a battle fought on the 24th of June 1859
between the allied Franco-Sardinian army under Napoleon III.
and Victor Emanuel, and the Austrian army commanded
by Francis Joseph II., in which, after a severe contest, the
latter retired over the Mincio (see ITALIAN WARS). The battle
fought by the Sardinians on the left wing of the allied army is
often called by the separate title of San Martino, from a hamlet
near the Brescia-Verona railway, about which it was fought.
From this battle, a certain shade of blue was designated by the
name of Solferino, and was very popular for some years, though
now, unlike its companion " magenta," it is forgotten.
SOLI (mod. Mezetlu), an ancient town of Asia Minor, on the
coast bf Cilicia, between the rivers Lamus and Pyramus, from
each of which it is about 62 m. Colonists from Argos in Greece
and Lindus in Rhodes are described as the founders of the town,
which is first mentioned at the time of the expedition of the
younger Cyrus. In the 4th century B.C. it was so wealthy that
Alexander exacted a fine of 200 talents. In the Mithradatic
War, Soli was destroyed by Tigranes, but it was subsequently
rebuilt by Pompey, who settled there many of the pirates
whom he had captured, and called the town Pompeiopolis.
Soli was the birthplace of Chrysippus the Stoic and of the poets
Philemon and Aratus. The bad Greek spoken there gave rise
to the term (roXot/ctir/ios, solecism, which has found its way
into all the modern languages of Europe. The ruins, which lie
on the right bank of the Mezetlu Su have been lately plundered
to supply building material for Mersina, and little remains
except part of the colonnade which flanked the main street
leading to the harbour. The place is easily reached from
Mersina by carriage in about i| hours. (D. G. H.)
SOLI, a Greek city on the north coast of Cyprus, lying at
Soliais in the metalliferous country round Karavortasi near
Lefka, on the south side of Morphou Bay. Its kingdom was
bounded by the territories of Marion, Paphos, Tamassus and
Lapathus. It was believed to have been founded after the
Trojan War (c. 1180) by the Attic hero Acamas; but no remains
have been found in this district earlier than the Early Iron Age
(c. 1000-800). The town of " Sillu," whose king Irisu was an
ally of Assur-bani-pal of Assyria in 668 B.C., is commonly sup-
posed to represent Soli.1 In Hellenic times Soli had little
political importance, though it stood a five months' siege from
the Persians soon after 500 B.C.; its copper mines, however,
were famous, and have left copious slag heaps and traces of
small scattered settlements. A neighbouring monastery is
dedicated to " Our Lady of the Slagheaps " (Panagia Skour-
gidtissa). But the copper seems to have been exhausted in
Roman times, and thereupon Soli became desert.
See W. H. Engel, Kypros (Berlin, 1841; classical authorities);
J. L. Myres and M. Ohnefalsch-Richter, Cyprus Museum Catalogue,
(Oxford, 1899; antiquities): G. F. Hill, Brit. Mus. Cat. Coins of
Cyprus (London, 1904; coins). (J. L. M.)
SOLICITOR, in England, an officer of the Supreme Court of
Judicature qualified to conduct legal proceedings for his clients:
see also ATTORNEY. Previous to the reign of Henry III. the
common law considered it indispensable that the parties to a
suit should be actually present, but the privilege of appearing
by attorney was conceded in certain cases by special dispensa-
tion. The passing of the statute of Merton and subsequent
enactments made it competent for both parties in all judicial
proceedings to appear by attorney. Previous to the passing
of the Judicature Act of 1873 there was a distinction between
the terms " solicitor " and " attorney." Solicitors appear to
have been at first distinguished from attorneys, as not having
the attorney's power to bind their principals, but latterly the
distinction was between attorneys as the agents formally
appointed in actions at law, and solicitors who took care of pro-
ceedings in parliament, chancery, privy council, &c. In
practice, however, and in ordinary language, the terms were
synonymous. Down to the I7th century the solicitor of the
chancery courts was considered inferior to the attorney of the
common law courts, but the rapid growth of equity jurisdic-
tion gave the solicitor an importance in no degree inferior to his
fellow practitioner at the common law. Until 1873 it was usual
for attorneys to be admitted as solicitors as well, but the Judica-
ture Act of that year enacted that all persons admitted as
solicitors, attorneys or proctors of an English court shall hence-
forth be called solicitors of the Supreme Court. Regulations
regarding the qualification of attorneys are found as far back
as the 20 Edward I. (1292), and the profession has been strinr
gently regulated by a series of statutes passed during the igth
century, notably the Solicitors Act 1843 and the Solicitors Acts
1877 and 1888.
Every person, before he can become a duly qualified solicitor,
must serve an apprenticeship or clerkship to a practising solicitor
for a term of years varying from three to five, he must pass all the
necessary examinations, he must be duly admitted and entered
on the roll of solicitors kept by the Incorporated Law Society and
must take out an annual certificate to practise. The organization
of the profession is in the hands of the Incorporated Law Society.
Established originally in 1827, in succession to an earlier society
dating back to 1739, it was incorporated in 1831. It began courses
of lectures for students in 1833 and ten years later was constituted
registrar of attorneys and solicitors. In 1860 it obtained the power
of suing unqualified solicitors and in 1888 it was given the custody
of the roll of solicitors, on the abolition of the office of the clerk
of the Petty Bag. The Solicitors Act of 1888 vested in the In-
corporated Law Society the power of investigating complaints as
to the professional conduct of solicitors, as well as power to refuse
to renew the annual certificate of a solicitor, subject to the solicitor's
right of appeal. The statutory committee of the Incorporated
Law Society may make application to the court to strike a solicitor
off the rolls without preliminary inquiry by the committee where
he has been convicted of a criminal offence, but where he is alleged
to have been guilty of unprofessional conduct or a statutory offence
the committee first hold a preliminary inquiry. Apart from its
judicial administrative authority it has exercised powerful influ-
ence in the attitude which it has frequently taken towards proposed
legislation. Membership of the society, which is not compulsory,
is open to any duly qualified practising solicitor, on approval by
the council. No person, however duly qualified, can be admitted
as a solicitor till he has attained .'the age of twenty-one years.
Though admitted as a solicitor and his name entered on the roll
he is not at liberty to practise until he has taken out his annual
certificate, the fees for which vary according as the applicant
1 E. Schrader, Abh. K. Preuss. Ak. Wiss. (1879), pp. S'-S6-
SOLICITOR-GENERAL— SOLfS
361
intends to practise in London or the provinces. Solicitors now
have a right to practise in any court, i.e. in every division of the
High Court, in every inferior court, in the ecclesiastical courts
(as proctors), in the court of appeal, in the privy council and in
thejHouse of Lords. Their right of audience, however, is re-
stricted. They may appear as advocates in most of the inferior
courts, as before justices, magistrates, coroners, revising barristers
and county courts. They have no right of audience, however,
in the Mayor's court, London, nor in the High Court of Justice,
privy council or House of Lords, where, from time immemorial,
the right has pertained to the bar, but they have right of audience
in chambers and certain bankruptcy matters. Since the Con-
veyancing Act 1 88 1 solicitors may do all kinds of conveyancing,
which formerly was considered the exclusive business of the bar.
The Conveyancing Act 1881 having made great changes in the
practice of conveyancing, it became necessary to place the re-
muneration of solicitors upon a new basis. This was done by the
Solicitors Remuneration Act, passed on the same day as the
Conveyancing Act. It provides for the framing of general orders,
fixing the principles of remuneration with reference inter alia to
the skill and responsibility involved, not, as was generally the case
before, with reference simply to the length of the documents per-
used or prepared. A solicitor is not responsible for statements
made by him in his professional capacity as an advocate, and all
communications which pass between a solicitor and his client are
privileged, so also is any information or document which he has
obtained in his professional capacity on behalf of his client. The
relation of solicitor and client disqualifies the former from dealing
with his client on his own behalf, while it gives him a lien, on pro-
fessional services, over the deeds, &c., of the client in his possession.
A solicitor's remuneration is minutely arranged by statute and he
has no power of recovering more from his client than his statutory
charges, and he is liable to be sued for damages for negligence in
his client's behalf. Certain personal privileges belong to a solicitor.
He is free from serving on juries, nor need he, against his will,
serve as a mayor, alderman, sheriff, overseer or churchwarden.
In Scotland solicitors in the Supreme Court are not, as in England,
the only persons entitled to act as law agents. They share the
privilege with writers to the signet in the Supreme Court, with agents
at law and procurators in the inferior courts. They were formed
into a society in 1784 and incorporated in 1796, and are usually
recognized as members of the College of Justice. This difference
is, however, now of little importance, as by the Law Agents Act
1873 any person duly admitted a law agent is entitled to practise
before any court in Scotland. In the United States the term
solicitor is used in some states in the sense of a law agent practising
before a court of equity.
Many of the great public offices in England and the United
States have their solicitors. In England the treasury solicitor fills
an especially important position. He is responsible for the en-
forcement of payments due to the treasury, and conducts generally
its legal business. The office of king's proctor is also combined
-with that of treasury solicitor. Under his powers as king's proctor
the treasury solicitor acts as administrator of the personal estate
of an intestate which has lapsed to the crown, and intervenes in
cases of divorce where collusion is alleged (see under PROCTOR).
Under the Prosecution of Offences Act 1884 he also acted as director
of public prosecutions, and was sometimes called Crown Solicitor.
By the Prosecution of Offences Act 1908 the office of director of
public prosecutions was separated from that of treasury solicitor
and made a separate appointment. In Ireland, solicitors called
crown solicitors are attached to each circuit, their duty being to
prepare the case for the crown in all criminal prosecutions. In
the United States the office of solicitor to the treasury was created
by Act of Congress in 1830. His principal duties are to take measures
for protecting the revenue and to deal with lands acquired by the
United States by judicial process or vested in them by security
for payment of debts.
See E. B. V. Christian, A Short History of Solicitors; Cordery
on Solicitors ; and A. P. Poley, Law Affecting Solicitors.
SOLICITOR-GENERAL, in England, one of the law officers
of the crown, appointed by letters patent. He is always a
member of the House of Commons and of the political party
in power, changing with it. His duties are practically the same
as those of the attorney-general (q.v.), to whom he is subordi-
nate, and whose business and authority would devolve upon
him in case of a vacancy in the office. He receives a salary of
£6000 a year, in addition to fees for any litigious business he
may conduct on behalf of the crown. The position of the
solicitor-general for Scotland in the main corresponds with that
of the English solicitor-general. He is next in rank to the
lord-advocate. In the United States the office of solicitor-
general was created by Act of Congress in 1870.
SOLINGEN, a town of Germany, in the Prussian Rhine
Province, on a height above the Wupper, 13 m. S.E. of
Dusseldorf, and 20 m. N.E. of Cologne by rail. Pop. (1905),
49,018. Solingen is one of the chief seats of the German iron
and steel industry, its speciality consisting in all kinds of cutlery,
Solingen sword-blades have been celebrated for centuries, and
are widely used outside Germany, while bayonets, knives,
scissors, surgical instruments, files, steel frames and the like are
also produced in enormous quantities. These articles are largely
made by the workmen at their own homes and supplied to the
depots of the large dealers; there are about 20,000 workers
in steel in Solingen and the vicinity. Solingen received its
municipal charter in 1374. Sword-blades have been made
here since the early middle ages, and tradition affirms that the
art was introduced during the Crusades by smiths from
Damascus.
SOLINUS, GAIUS JULIUS, Latin grammarian and compiler,
probably flourished during the first half of the 3rd century A.D.
He was the author of Collectanea rerum memorabilium, a
description of curiosities in a chorographical framework.
Adventus, to whom it is dedicated, is identified with Oclatinius
Adventus, consul A.D. 218. It contains a short description of
the ancient world, with remarks on historical, social, religious
and natural history questions. The greater part is taken from
Pliny's Natural History and the geography of Pomponius Mela.
According to Mommsen, Solinus also used a chronicle (possibly
by Cornelius Bocchus) and a Chorographia pliniana, an epitome
of Pliny's work with additions made about the time of Hadrian.
Schanz, however, suggests the Roma and Pratum of Suetonius.
The Collectanea was revised in the 6th century under the title
of Polyhistor (subsequently taken for the author's name). It
was popular in the middle ages, hexameter abridgments being
current under the names of Theodericus and Petrus Diaconus.
The commentary by Saumaise in his Plinianae exercitationes
(1689) is indispensable; best edition by Mommsen (1895), with
valuable introduction on the MSS., the authorities used by Solinus,
and subsequent compilers. See also Teuffel, Hist, of Roman
Literature (Eng. trans., 1900), 389; and Schanz, Geschichte der rom-
ischen Litteratur (1904), iv. I. There is an old English translation
by A. Golding (1587).
SOLIPSISM (Lat. solus, alone, ipse, self), a philosophical term,
applied to an extreme form of subjective idealism which denies
that the human mind has any valid ground for believing in the
existence of anything but itsejf. " It may best be defined, per-
haps, as the doctrine that all existence is experience, and that
there is only one experient. The Solipsist thinks that he is the
onel" (Schiller). It is presented as a solution of the problem of
explaining the nature of our knowledge of the external world.
We cannot know things-in-themselves: they 'exist for us only
in our cognition of them, through the medium of sense-given
data. In F. H. Bradley's words (Appearance and Reality):
" I cannot transcend experience, and experience is my experi-
ence. From this it follows that nothing beyond myself exists;
for what is experience is its (the self's) states."
See IDEALISM ; also F. C. S. Schiller, Mind, New Series (April 1909).
SOLfS, ANTONIO DE (1610-1686), Spanish dramatist and
historian, was born in 1610 at Alcala de Henares (less .probably,
Plasencia), and studied law at Salamanca, where he pro-
duced a comedy entitled Amor y obligacidn, which was acted
in 1627. He became secretary to the count of Oropesa, and in
1654 he was appointed secretary of state as well as private
secretary to Philip IV. Later he obtained the lucrative post
of chronicler of the Indies, and, on taking orders in 1667, severed
his connexion with the stage. He died at Madrid on the igth of
April 1686. Of his ten extant plays, two have some place in
the history of the drama. El Amor al uso was adapted by
Scarron and again by Thomas Corneille as L' Amour a la mode,
while La Gilanilla de Madrid, itself founded on the novela of
Cervantes, has been utilized directly or indirectly by P. A.
Wolff, Victor Hugo and Longfellow. The titles of the remain-
ing seven are Triunfos de amor y fortuna, Euridice y Orfeo,
El Alcazar del secreto, Las Amazonas, El Doctor Carlino, Un
Bobo hace ciento, and Amparar el enemigo. Amor y obligaciin
survives in a manuscript at the Biblioteca Nacional. The
362
SOLITAIRE— SOLOMON
Historia de la conquista de Mejico, covering the three years between
the appointment of Cortes to command the invading force and
the fall of the city, deservedly ranks as a Spanish prose classic.
It was published in 1684; an English translation by Townshend
appeared in 1724.
SOLITAIRE (Fr. for " solitary "), a game played on a board
indented with 33 or 37 hemispherical hollows, with the same
number of balls or marbles. An unoccupied hollow is left by
removing one ball, and the balls, or pieces, are then captured as in
draughts. No moves are allowed in diagonal directions or over
more than one space at a time.
SOLO, OR SOLO WHIST, a card game which is a modification
of whist, the chief distinctive feature being that a single player
generally has to oppose the other three. The game came into
vogue in England towards the end of the ipth century. The
following " declarations " can be made, the order being impor-
tant: (i) proposition; (2) acceptance; (3) solo; (4) misere;
(5) abondance (or abundance); (6) misere ouverte; (7) abandonee
diclaree (declared abundance). Proposition and acceptance
go together, as will be seen; of the rest " solo " can be declared
over " proposition," misere over solo, and so on. The stakes —
regarding sixpence as the unit — are: for proposition, sixpence;
for solo, sixpence (sometimes a shilling); for misere, a shilling;
for abundance, eighteenpence; for open misere, two shillings;
for declared abundance, three shillings. A further stake may
be arranged for " overtricks," to be paid to the player for every
trick made above the number proposed, and for " undertricks,"
to be paid by the player for every trick below that number.
A full pack is used; players cut as at whist for deal and seats;
the cards may be dealt singly, but are more commonly dealt
by threes, with a single card for the last round. The last card
is turned up and left exposed for a round, whether it is used for
trumps or not. One deal constitutes a game. The laws of
whist obtain, where applicable, in such matters as following
suit, revoking, the passing of the deal, &c. The player on the
dealer's left is first to declare or pass: if he proposes, any
player may accept, the right going first to the player on
his left, but any player when his turn comes may make
a higher declaration than any that has gone before him,
though a player whose call has been superseded may amend
his call afterwards. If all the players pass, either there is a
new deal, or by arrangement there is a general misere, when
the player who takes the most tricks — sometimes, the last trick — •
pays a single stake all round.
The Dedaratiens. — (i) Proposal: This is an invitation to another
player to " accept," i.e. to join the proposer in an attempt to make
eight tricks. (2) Solo : . Here a player undertakes to win five
tricks, playing against the other three in combination. (3) Misere :
This is a declaration by a player that he will not win a single
trick. There are no trumps, but the turn-up card is left exposed
for the first round. If the caller wins a trick the game is at an
end (there are no overtricks or undertricks), but he has a right
to see the opponents' hands, to be sure that no revoke has been
made. A trick that has been turned may not be seen -afterwards.
(4) Abundance is a declaration that a player will make nine tricks
single-handed. The caller makes any suit trumps, but abundance
in the turn-up suit takes precedence over abundance in other
suits. The trump suit must be declared after the other players
have passed, before the first round is played. (5) Misere ouverte:
This call is a declaration to lose all thirteen tricks, but after
the first trick the caller's cards are placed on the table, though
he may play them as he pleases. (6) Declared Abundance: This
is a declaration of the caller to make all thirteen tricks by his own
hand. He makes his own trumps and always leads, but a declara-
tion in the suit of the turn-up card takes precedence over others.
The game ends when the caller loses a trick. There are no under-
tricks.
SOLOGNE (Secalaunia from Lat. secale, rye), a region of
north-central France extending over portions of the department
of Loiret, Loir-et-Cher and Cher. Its area is about 1800 sq. m.,
and its boundaries are, on the N. the river Loire, on the S. the
Cher, on the E. the districts of Sancerre and Berry. The Sologne
is watered by the Cosson and the Beuvron, tributaries of the
Loire, and the Sauldre, an affluent of the Cher, all three having
a west-south-westerly direction. The pools and marshes which
are characteristic of the region are due to the impermeability
of its soil, which is a mixture of sand and clay. The conse-
quent unhealthiness of the climate has been greatly mitigated
since the middle of the igth century, when Napoleon III. led
the way in the reclamation of swamps, the planting of pines
and other trees and other improvements. Arable farming and
stock-raising are fairly flourishing in the Sologne, but there
is little manufacturing activity, the cloth manufacture of
Romorantin being the chief industry. Game is abundant, and
the region owes much of its revived prosperity to the creation
of large sporting estates.
SOLOLA, the capital of the department of Solola, in Guate-
mala; on the northern shore of lake Atitlan, 46 m. W.N.W.
of Guatemala city. Pop. (1905), about 17,000. Solola is the
ancient capital of the Cakchiquel Indians, who form the bulk
of the population. In the city coarse cloth, pottery, cigars
and soap are manufactured, and there is a large prison and
reformatory. Among the surrounding mountains are large
and successful coffee plantations, owned by German settlers.
Op the 1 8th of April 1902 Solola was wrecked by an earthquake,
but as most of the houses were constructed of wood it was
speedily rebuilt.
SOLOMON1 (loth century B.C.), the son of David by Bath -
sheba, and his successor in the kingdom of Israel. The many
floating and fragmentary notes of various dates that have
found a place in the account of his reign in the book of Kings
(q.v.) show how much Hebrew tradition was occupied with the
monarch under whom the throne of Israel reached its highest
glory; and that time only magnified in popular imagination
the proportions of so striking a figure appears from the opinions
entertained of him in subsequent writings. The magnificence
and wisdom of Solomon (cf. Matt. vi. 29; Luke xi. 31) and the
splendour of his reign present a vivid contrast to the troublous
ages which precede and follow him, although the Biblical records
prove, on closer inspection, to contain so many incongruous
elements that it is very difficult to form a just estimate of his life
and character. A full account is given of the circumstances of
the king's accession (contrast the summary notices, i Kings xxii.
41 seq., 2 Kings xv. i, xxi. 24, xxiv. 18, &c.). He was not the
true heir to the throne, but was the son of David by Bathsheba,
wife of Uriah the Hittite, whom David sent to his death " in
the forefront of the battle." The child of the illegitmate union
died; the second was called Jedidiah (" beloved of Yah [weh]")
or Shelomoh (the idea of requital or recompense may be im-
plied); according to i Chron. iii. 5, on the other hand, Solomon
was the fourth, or rather the fifth, child of Bathsheba and David.
The episode forms the prelude to family rivalries. David's
first-born, Amnon, perished at the hands of the third son,
Absalom, who lost his life in his revolt (2 Sam. xiii.-xx.). The
second, Chileab, is not mentioned in the history, and the fate of
the fourth, who regarded himself as the future king, is described
in i Kings i., ii. Bathsheba, relying upon David's promise
that Solomon should succeed him, vigorously advanced her
son's claims with the support of Zadok the priest, the military
officer Benaiah, and David's bodyguard; Adonijah, for his part,
had David's old priest Abiathar, the commander Joab, and the
men of Judah. A more serious breach could scarcely be imagined.
The adherents of Solomon gained the day, and with his accession
a new regime was inaugurated, not, however, without bloodshed.
Solomon's age at his accession is not recorded. The tradition
that he was only twelve (i Kings ii. 12 Septuagint; or fourteen,
Jos. Ant. viii. 7, 8) may rest upon iii. 7 (" I am but a little child ";
if this is not hyperbole), or upon the chronological scheme embodied
in 2 Sam. xiii. 23, 38, xiv. 28, xv. 7. It agrees with his subordinate
position in portions of 'Ch. i., but his independent actions in
ch. ii. suggest a more mature age, and according to xi. 42, xiv. 21,
his son Rehoboam was already born (but contrast again xii. 24
Septuagint, 2 Chron. xiii. 7). See further, Ency. Bib. col. 4681,
n. 5-
1 Heb. Shelomoh, as though " his peace "; but the true meaning
is uncertain; evidence for its connexion with the name of a god is
given by H. Winckler and Zimmern, Keilinschr. u. das Alte Test.,
3rd ed., pp. 224, 474 seq. The English form follows the SoXA/wi-
of N.T. and Josephus ; the Lat. Salomo agrees with SaXi/ao? (one
of several variant forms shown in MSS. of the LXX.).
SOLOMON
363
The acute observation that 2 Sam. ix.-xx. ; 2 Kings i. ii. 1-9,
13 sqq., were evidently incorporated after the Deuteronomic re-
daction of the books of Samuel (K. Budde, Samuel, p. xi.) is con-
firmed by the framework of Kings with its annalistic material
similar to that preserved in 2 Sam. v.-viii., xxi.-xxiv. ; I Kings
ii. 10-^12. With this may belong iii. 3 (the compiler's judgment) ; and
especially v. 3 sqq., where reference is made to David's incessant
wars (2 Sam. viii.). That 2 Sam. ix.-xx., &c., had previously been
omitted by the Deuteronomic redactor himself (Budde) cannot
be proved. These post-Deuteronomic narratives preserve older
material, but with several traces of revision, so that I Kings i. ii. now
narrate both the end of David's reign and the rise of Solomon
(see I. Benzinger's commentary on Kings, p. xi. ; C. Holzhey, Buck
d. Konige, p. 17). The latter, however, is their present aim, and
some attempt appears to have been made in them to exculpate
one whose accession finds a Judaean parallel in Jehoram (2 Chron.
xxi. 1-4). Thus it has been held that David's charges (ii. 1-9)
were written to absolve Solomon, and there is little probability in
the story that Adonijah after his pardon really requested the hand
of Abishag (ii. 13-25), since in Oriental ideas this would be at once
viewed as a distinct encroachment upon Solomon's rights as heir
(cf. W. R. Smith, Kinship and Marriage, 2nd ed., p. no).
Every emphasis is laid on the wisdom of Solomon and his
wealth. Yahweh appeared to Solomon in a dream and offered
to grant whatever he might ask. Confessing his inexperience,
the king prayed for a discerning heart, and was rewarded
with the gift of wisdom together with riches and military glory.
There follows an example of his sagacity: the famous story of
the steps he took to determine which of two claimants was
the mother of a child (iii. I6-28).1 His wisdom excelled that
of Egypt and of the children of the East; by the latter may be
meant Babylonia, or more probably the Arabs, renowned
through all ages for their shrewdness. Additional point is
made by emphasizing his superiority over four renowned
sages, sons of Mahol; but the allusion to these worthies (who
are incorporated in a Judaean genealogy, i Chron. ii. 6) is no
longer intelligible. He is also credited with an interest in
botany and natural history (iv. 33), and later Jewish legend
improved this by ascribing to him lordship over all beasts and
birds and the power of understanding their speech. To this
it added the sovereignty over demons, from a wrong inter-
pretation of Eccles. ii. 8 (see Lane, Arabian Nights, introd.,
n. 21, and ch. i, n. 25). As his fame spread abroad, people
came to hear his wisdom, and costly presents were showered
upon him. The sequel was the visit of the Queen of Sheba
(i Kings iv. 29-34; x.). The interesting narrative appears in
another light when we consider Solomon's commercial activity
and the trading intercourse between Palestine and south
Arabia.2 His wealth was in proportion to his wisdom. Trad-
ing journeys were conducted with Phoenician help to Ophir and
Tarshish. With the horse-breeding districts of the north he
traded in horses and chariots (x. 28 seq.; see MIZRAIM), and gold
accumulated in such enormous quantities that the income for
one year may be reckoned at about £4,100,000 in weight (x. ii
seq., 14 sqq.). Silver was regarded as stones; the precious cedars
of Lebanon as sycamores. His realm extended from Tiphsah
(Thapsacus) on the Euphrates to the borders of Egypt (iv. 21, 24),
and it agrees with this that he gains important conquests in "the
north (2 Chron. viii. 3 seq.; but see i Kings ix. 18). He main-
tained a very large harem (xi.), and among his wives was the
daughter of an Egyptian Pharaoh. For his distinguished con-
sort, who brought Gezer as a dowry, a special palace was built
(iii. i, ix. 16, 24), and this was only one of many building enter-
prises.
The description of the magnificent temple of Jerusalem,
1 For parallels, see R. Flint in Hastings's Diet. Bib. iv. 562, n. i.
For the Pompeian wall-painting representing Solomon's judgment
(the figures are pygmies!), see A. Jeremias, Alles Test, im Lichte d.
alt. Orients 2nd ed., p. 492 seq. (with illustration and references).
1 For Mahommedan stories of Solomon, the hoopoe and the
queen of Sheba, see the Koran, Sur. xxvii., which closely follows
the second Targum to Esther i. 2, where the Jewish fables may be
read in full. On this story, see also J. Halevy, Ecole pratique des
hautes ttudes (1905), pp. 5-24, and the Chinese parallel in the
Mittheilungen of the Berlin Seminar for Oriental Languages (1904),
vii. i. pp. 117-172. For the late legends of Solomon see M. Griin-
baum, Neue Beitrdge zur semit. Sage, pp. 198-237 (Leiden, 1893);
G. Salzberger, Die Salomo-Sage in der semitischen Literatur (Berlin,
1907).
which occupies considerable space in Solomon's history (v.-
viii.), appears in more elaborate form in the chronicler's later
work. The detailed record stands in contrast to the brief
account of his other buildings, e.g. the palace, which, from an
Oriental point of view, was of the first importance (vii. 1-12).
But the Temple and palace were adjoining buildings, separated
only by a wall (cf. Ezek. xlii. 20, xliii. 7 seq.), and it cannot be
said that the former had originally the prominence now ascribed
to it. Nor can the accounts given by Deuteronomic writers
of its significance for the religious worship of Israel be used
for an estimate of contemporary religion (v. 1-6, viii.).
Whatever David had instituted at Jerusalem, it is at Gibeon
that Solomon observed the opening sacrificial ceremonies, and
there he received the divine revelation, " for that was the great
high-place " (iii. 4 sqq.). Though this is justified by a late
writer (iii. 2), subsequent history shows that the high-places,
like the altars to heathen deities in Jerusalem itself, long re-
mained undisturbed; it was the Deuteronomic reformation,
ascribed to Josiah, which marked the great advance in the
religion of Yahweh, and under its influence the history of the
monarchy has been compiled. Moreover, with the emphasis
which is laid upon the Jerusalem Temple is to be associated the
new superiority of Zadok, the traditional ancestor of the Zadok-
ites, the Jerusalem priests, whose supremacy over the other
Levitical families only enters into the history of a much later
age (see LEVITES).
In fact, Solomon, the pious saint, is not the Solomon of the
earlier writings. Political, commercial and matrimonial alli-
ances inevitably left their mark upon national religion, and the
introduction of foreign cults which ensued is characteristically
viewed as an apostasy from Yahweh of which he was guilty in
his old age? The Deuteronomic writer finds in it the cause
of the subsequent separation of the two kingdoms (xi. 1-13),
and he connects it with certain external troubles which prove
to have affected the whole course of his reign. The general
impression of Solomon's position in history is in fact seriously
disturbed when the composite writings are closely viewed.
On the one side we see genial internal conditions prevailing in
the land (iv. 20, 25), or the exalted position of the Israelites as
officials and overseers, while the remnant of the pre-Israelite
inhabitants serve in labour gangs (ix. 20 sqq.). On the other
hand is the mass of toiling Israelites, whose oppressed condition
is a prelude to the later dissensions (i Kings v. 13 sqq.; cf. i
Kings xii.; see the divergent tradition in 2 Chron. ii.). The
description of Solomon's administration not only ignores the
tribal divisions which play an important part in the separation
of Israel from Judah (xii. 16; cf. 2 Sam. xix. 43-xx. 2), but
represents a kingdom of modest dimensions in which Judah
apparently is not included. Some north Judaean cities might
be named (iv. 9 seq.), but south Judah and Hebron the seat of
David's early power find no place, and it would seem as though
the district which had shared in the revolt of Adonijah was
freed from the duty of furnishing supplies. But the document
has intricate textual peculiarities and may be the Judaean
adaptation of a list originally written from the standpoint of
the north-Israelite monarchy. Further speculation is caused
when it is found that Solomon fortifies such cities as Megiddo,
Beth-horon and Tamar, and that the Egyptian Pharaoh had
slain the Canaanites of Gezer (ix. 15 sqq.). We learn, also, that
Hadad, a young Edomite prince, had escaped the sanguinary
campaign in the reign of David (2 Sam. viii. 13 seq.), and had
taken refuge in Egypt. He was kindly received by Pharaoh, who
gave him the sister of his queen Tahpenes to wife. On David's
death he returned and ruled over Edom, thus not merely
controlling the port of Elath and the trade-routes, but even
(according to the Septuagint) oppressing Israel (xi. 14-22, 25,
see Septuagint on v. 22).* Moreover, an Aramaean dependant
3 On the relation between trade and religion in old Oriental life,
see the valuable remarks by G. A. Smith, Ency. Bib. col. 5157 seq.
4 The narrative contains composite features (see the literature
cited in article KINGS). There is a curious resemblance between
one form of the story and the Septuagint account of the rise of
Jeroboam (q.v.).
364
SOLOMON ISLANDS
of Hadadezer, king of Zobah, to the north of Palestine (see
David's war, 2 Sam. viii. 3 sqq., x. 6 sqq.), deserted his lord,
raised a band of followers and eventually captured Damascus,
where he established a new dynasty. Like Hadad, " he was an
adversary to Israel all the days of Solomon " (xi. 23-25). To
these notices must also be added the cession of territory in north
Palestine to Hiram, king of Phoenicia (ix. n). It is parentheti-
cally explained as payment for building materials, which, how-
ever, are otherwise accounted for (v. 6, n); or it was sold
for 120 talents of gold (nearly £750,000 sterling), presumably
to assist Solomon in continuing his varied enterprises — but the
true nature of the transaction has been obscured, although the
consequences involved in the loss of the territory are unmis-
takable. If these situations can with difficulty find a place in
our picture of Solomon's might, it is clear that some of them
form the natural introduction to the subsequent history, when
his death brought internal discontent to a head, when the north
under Jeroboam refused allegiance to the south, and when the
divided monarchy enters upon its eventful career by the side
of the independent states of Edom, Damascus and Phoenicia.
It is now generally recognized in histories of the Old Testament
that a proper estimate of Solomon's reign cannot start from
narratives which represent the views of Deuteronomic writers,
although,'_in so far as late narratives may rest upon older material
more in accordance with the circumstances of their age, attempts
are made to present reconstructions from a combination of
various elements. Among the recent critical attempts to recover
the underlying traditions may be mentioned those of T. K.
Cheyne (Ency. Bib., art. " Solomon ") and H. Winckler (Keil-
inschr. u. d. Alte Test., 3rd. ed., pp. 233 sqq.). But, in general,
where the traditions are manifestly in a later form they are in
agreement with later backgrounds, and it is questionable whether
earlier forms can be safely recovered when it is held that they
have been rewritten or when the historical kernel has been buried
in legend or myth. It is impossible not to be struck with the
growing development of the Israelite tribes after the invasion
of Palestine, their strong position under David, the sudden ex-
pansion of the Hebrew monarchy under Solomon, and the subse-
quent slow decay, and this, indeed, is the picture as it presented
itself to the last writers who found in the glories of the past
both consolation for the present and grounds for future hopes.
But this is not the original picture, and, since very contradictory
representations of Solomon's reign can be clearly discerned, it is
necessary in the first instance to view them in the light of an
independent examination of the history of the preceding and
following periods where, again, serious fluctuation of standpoint
is found. Much therefore depends upon the estimate which is
formed of the position of David (q.v.). See also JEWS: History,
§ 7 seq ; PALESTINE: Old Testament History.
On Solomon's relation to philosophical and proverbial literature,
see PROVERBS. Another aspect of his character appears in the
remarkable " Song of Solomon," on which see CANTICLES. Still
another phase is represented in the monologue of Ecclesiastes
(q.v.). In the Book of Wisdom, again, the composition of an
Egyptian Hellenist, who from internal evidence is judged to have
lived somewhat earlier than Philo, Solomon is introduced uttering
words of admonition, imbued with the spirit of Greek philosophers,
to heathen sovereigns. The so-called Psalter of Solomon, on the
other hand, a collection of Pharisee psalms written in Hebrew soon
after the taking of Jerusalem by Pompey, and preserved to us
only in a Greek version, has nothing to do with Solomon or the
traditional conception of his person, and seems to owe its name
to a transcriber who thus distinguished these newer pieces from the
older " Psalms of David " (see SOLOMON, PSALMS OF). (S. A. C.)1
SOLOMON ISLANDS (Ger., Salomoinselri), an archipelago
of the Western Pacific Ocean, included in Melanesia, and forming
a chain (in continuation of that of the Admiralty Islands and
New Mecklenburg in the Bismarck Archipelago) from N.W. to
S.E. between 154° 40' and 162° 30' E., 5° and 11° S., with a
total land area of 17,000 sq. m. (For map, see PACIFIC OCEAN.)
A comparatively shallow sea surrounds the islands and in-
dicates physical connexion with the Bismarck Archipelago
and New Guinea, whereas directly east of the Solomons there
1 Some sentences from W. R. Smith's article in Ency. Brit.,
gth ed., have been retained and in places modified.
are greater depths. The principal island at the north-west end
of the chain is Bougainville (3900 sq. m.), and that at the
south-east San Cristoval or Bauro. Between these the chain is
double, consisting (from the north-west) of Choiseul (2260 sq. m.),
Isabel (Ysabel, of about the same area as Choiseul) and Malaita
(2400 sq. m.) to the north, and Vella Lavella, Ronongo, Kul-
ambangra, Kausagi, Marovo (New Georgia or Rubiana) and
the Hammond Islands, and Guadalcanal or Guanbata (2500
sq. m.). Between and around these main islands there are
many smaller islands. Ongtong Java, a coral reef of many
islets, lies considerably north of the main group to which,
geographically, it can hardly be said to belong.3 Bougainville,
the largest of the group, contains Mt Balbi (10,170 ft.), and
two active volcanoes. In Guadalcanar is Mt Lammas (8000 ft.),
while the extreme heights of the other islands range- between
2500 and 5000 ft. The islands (by convention of 1899) are
divided unequally between Great Britain and Germany, the
boundary running through Bougainville Strait, so that that
island and Buka belong to Germany (being officially administered
from Kaiser Wilhelm's Land), but the rest (South Solomons)
are British.
The islands are well watered, though the streams seem to be
small; the coasts afford some good harbours. All the large and
some of the small islands appear to be composed of ancient volcanic
rock, with an incrustation of coral limestone showing here and there
along the coast. The mountains generally fall steeply to the sea.
There is some level land in Bougainville, but little elsewhere.
Deep valleys separate the gently rounded ridges of forest-clad
mountains, lofty spurs descend from the interior, and, running
down to the sea, terminate frequently in bold rocky headlands
800 to looo ft. in height, as in San Cristoval (north coast). On the
small high island of Florida there is much undulating grass-land
interspersed with fine clumps of trees; patches of cultivated land
surround its numerous villages, and plantations on the hill-sides
testify to the richness of its soil. The whole chain of islands appears
to be rising steadily. Some of the smaller islands are of recent
calcareous formation. Barrier and fringing reefs, as well as atolls,
occur in the group, but the channels between the islands are dan-
gerous chiefly from the strong currents which set through them.
The climate is very damp and debilitating. The rainfall is
unusually heavy. Fever and ague prevail on the coast. The
healthiest portions are the highlands, where most exposed to the
south-east trades. The dry season, with north-west winds, lasts
from December to May. Vegetation is luxuriant; magnificent
forests clothe the mountains, and sandalwood, ebony and lignum
vitae, besides a variety of palms, are found in them. Mangrove
swamps are common on the coasts. The probable geological
connexion with New Guinea would account for the Papuan character
of the fauna of the Solomons, which form the eastern limit of certain
Papuan types. The existence of peculiar types in the Solomons,
however, points to an early severance. _ Mammals are not numerous ;
they include the cuscus, several species of bat, and some rats of
great size. There are various peculiar species of frogs, lizards
and snakes, including the great frog Rana Guppyi, from 2 to 3 ft
in weight. Of birds, several parrots and other genera are character-
istically Papuan and are unknown east of the Solomons.
Population. — The Solomon islanders are of Melanesian (Pa-
puan) stock, though in different parts of the group they vary
considerably in their physical characteristics, in some islands
approaching the pure Papuan, in some showing Polynesian
crossings and in others resembling the Malays. As a race they
are small and sturdy, taller in the north than in the south.
Projecting brows, deeply sunk dark eyes, short noses, either
straight or arched, but always depressed at the root, and
moderately thick lips, with a somewhat receding chin, are
general characteristics. The mesocephalic appears to be the
preponderant form of skull; though this is unusual among
Melanesian races. In colour the skin varies from a black-brown
to a copperish hue, but the darker are the most common shades.
The hair is naturally dark, but is often dyed red or fawn, and
crisp, inclining to woolly. The islanders of the Bougainville
Straits have lank, almost straight, black hair and very dark
skins.
To strangers the natives have long had the reputation of being
treacherous. They are cannibals, infanticide is common, and head
2 Guadalcanal of the Spanish discoverers.
3 This group, so named by Abel Tasman in 1643, 's a'?° called
Leuenewa or Lord Howe, and is densely inhabited by natives said
to be of Polynesian origin.
SOLOMON, ODES OF— SOLOMON, PSALMS OF
hunting was formerly prevalent. The average lot of the women is
that of slaves. In some cases there is belief in a good spirit in-
habiting a pleasant land, and an evil spirit associated with a
volcano ; also in a future life. The language is of pure Melanesian
type, though a number of dialects are spoken. The natives are
good agriculturists. The Solomon Islands are, in the Pacific, the
eastern limit of the use of the shield. The canoes are skilfully built
of planks sewn together and caulked. The high carved prow and
stern give the craft almost a crescent shape. These and the gun-
wale are tastefully inlaid with mother-of-pearl and wreathed with
shells and feathers.
The British islands are under a resident commissioner, and
have some trade in copra, ivory, nuts, pearl shell and other
produce. Coco-nuts, pine-apples and bananas, with some
cocoa and coffee, are cultivated on small areas. The German
islands have a small trade in sandalwood, tortoise-shell, &c.
The total population may be roughly estimated at 180,000.
History. — The Spanish navigator Alvaro Mendana must be
credited with the discovery of these islands in 1567, though it
is somewhat doubtful whether he was actually the first Euro-
pean who set eyes on them. In anticipation of their natural
riches he named them Islas de Salomon. The expedition sur-
veyed the southern portion of the group, and named the three
large islands San Cristoval, Guadalcanal and Ysabel. On his
return to Peru, Mendana endeavoured to organize another ex-
pedition to colonize the islands, but it was not before June 1595
that he, with Pedro Quiros as second in command, was able
to set sail for this purpose. The Marquesas and Santa Cruz
islands were now discovered; but on one of the latter, after
various delays, Mendana died, and the expedition collapsed.
Even the position of the Solomon Islands was now in uncer-
tainty, for the Spaniards, fearing lest they should lose the bene-
fits expected to accrue from these discoveries, kept secret the
narratives of Mendana and Quiros. The Solomon Islands were
thus lost sight of until, in 1767, Philip Carteret lighted on their
eastern shores at Gower Island, and passed to the north of the
group, without, however, recognizing that it formed part of the
Spanish discoveries. In 1768 Louis de Bougainville found his
way thither. He discovered the three northern islands (Buka,
Bougainville and Choiseul), and sailed through the channel
which divides the two last and bears his name. In 1769 a French
navigator, M. de Surville, was the first, in spite of the hostility
of the natives, to make any lengthened stay in the group. He
gave some of the islands the French names they still bear,1
and brought home some detailed information concerning them
which he called Terre des Arsacides (Land of the Assassins);
but their identity with Mendana's Islas de Salomon was soon
established by French geographers. In 1788 the English lieu-
tenant Shortland coasted along the south side of the chain, and,
supposing it to be a continuous land, named it New Georgia;
and in 1792 Captain Edward Manning sailed through the strait
which separates Ysabel from Choiseul and now bears his name.
In the same year, and in 1793, d'Entrecasteaux surveyed
portions of the coast-line of the large islands. Dumont d'Urville
in 1838 continued the survey.
Traders now endeavoured to settle in the islands, and mis-
sionaries began to think of this fresh field for labour, but neither
met with much success, and little was heard of the islanders
save accounts of murder and plunder. In 1845 the French
Marist Fathers went to Isabel, where Mgr Epaulle, first vicar-
apostolic of Melanesia, was killed by the natives soon after
landing. Three years later this mission had to be abandoned;
but in 1881 work was again resumed. In 1856 John Coleridge
Patteson, afterwards bishop of Melanesia, had paid his first
visit to the islands, and native teachers trained at the Melanesian
mission college subsequently established themselves there.
About this date the yacht " Wanderer " cruised in these seas,
but her owner, Mr Benjamin Boyd, was kidnapped by the
natives and never afterwards heard of. In 1873 the " foreign-
labour " traffic in plantation hands for Queensland and Fiji
extended its baneful influence from the New Hebrides to these
islands. In 1893 the islands Malaita, Marovo, Guadalcanar
1 He called Gower, Inattendue; Ulava, Contrarietfi; and named
Port Praslin, the harbour at the north-west of Ysabel.
and San Cristoval with their surrounding islets were annexed
by Great Britain, and the final delimitation of German and
British influence in the archipelago was made by the conven-
tion of the i4th of November 1899.
See H. B. Guppy, The Solomon Islands (London, 1887), where
full references to earlier works are given; C. Ribbe, Zwei Jahre unter
den Kannibalen der Salomon-Inseln (Dresden, 1903).
SOLOMON, ODES OF, a collection of 42 hymns, probably
dating from the end of the ist century, known to the early
Christian Church (as is proved by the quotations and comments
in the 3rd century gnostic book, Pistis Sophia, and a short
extract in the Institutes of Lactantius). They were recovered
by Dr Rendel Harris in 1908 from a 16th-century Syriac manu-
script (containing also the Psalms of Solomon, see below) in his
possession. The first, second, and part of the third odes are
missing, but the first has been restored from the Pistis Sophia.
Of their authorship nothing is known, " Solomon " being a
recognized pseudonym. While there are thoughts and expres-
sions which lend themselves to gnostic use, there is nothing in
the odes which is of distinctively gnostic origin. Many of them,
indeed, are unmistakably Christian, and the writer of the Pistis
Sophia seems to have regarded them as almost if not quite
canonical, a fact which secures at latest a 2nd-century origin.
Dr Harris indeed would date several of them between A.D. 75
and too. They contain few traces of the New Testament, and
the words " gospel " and " church " are not found. Here and
there a Johannine atmosphere is detected, though not sufficiently
to justify the assumption that the author knew the writer
of the Fourth Gospel. References to the life and teaching
of Christ are rare, though the Virgin Birth is alluded to in
Ode 19 in a passage marked by legendary embellishment, and the
descent into Hades is spoken of in quite the apocryphal style in
Ode 42. These odes are probably among the latest in the book.
There are no clear allusions to baptism and none at all to the
eucharistic celebration. One passage speaks of ministers (per-
haps = deacons) who are entrusted with the water of life to hand
to others; the word " priest " occurs once, at the beginning
of Ode 20, " I am a priest of the Lord, and to Him I do priestly
service, and to Him I offer the sacrifices of His thought." The
odes, which are perhaps the product of a school of writers,
and were originally written in Greek, vary in execution and
spiritual tone, but are generally characterized by a buoyant
feeling of Christian joy. Harnack considers that they form a
Jewish Grundschrift, with a number of Christian interpolations;
only two are " purely Christian," while several " colourless "
ones are more likely Jewish. He finds in them a link between
the piety and theology of the Testaments of the Twelve Patri-
archs and that of the Johannine gospel and epistles.
See J. Rendel Harris, The Odes and Psalms of Solomon (1909);
An Early Christian Psalter (1909); Joh. Flemming and A. Harnack,
Ein judisch-christliches Psalmbuch aus dem ersten Jahrhundert
(Leipzig, 1910); The Times (April 7, 1910); W. E. Barnes, in Journ.
of Theol. Studies, xi. 615, and The Expositor (July I9lo)l F. Spitta,
in Zeitschrift fur N.T. Wissenschaft, xi. 193.
SOLOMON, PSALMS OF. These psalms, eighteen in all,
enjoyed but small consideration in the early Christian Church;
for only six direct references to them are found in early Chris-
tian literature, though in the Jewish Church they must have
played an important role; for they were used in the worship
of the synagogue.
They were of course not written by Solomon, but were sub-
sequently ascribed to him. The fact that they do not con-
tain a single reference to Solomon is in favour of their having
been first published anonymously. On the other hand, their
author (or authors) may have placed over them the superscrip-
tion " Psalms of Solomon " in order to gain currency for this
new collection under the shelter of a great name of the past.
MSS. AND TEXTS. — Before the publication of Swete's second
edition and the edition of von Gebhardt, only five MSS., A, H, V, M,
P (of which H represents the Copenhagen MS.) were known, and
these were utilized to the full in the splendid edition of Ryle and
James (*aXjuoi SoXo/aficros, Psalms of the Pharisees commonly called
the Psalms of Solomon, the Text newly revised from all the MSS.,
1891). In Swete's edition (The Old Testament in Greek? 1894)
there was given in addition to the above a collation of the Vatican
366
SOLON
MS. R. Finally in 1895, von Gebhardt published from five MSS.
his edition entitled *n\Moi SoXe>M<2>'Tos, Die Psalmen Salomos zum
erstenmale mil Benutzung der Athoshandschriften und des Cod.
Casanatensis herausgegeben. The five MSS. used by this last
editor are C, H, J, L, R, of which C, J, L are exploited for the first
time and represent respectively the MSS. Casanatensis, Iberiticus
and Laura-Kloster. He represents the affinities of the MSS. in
the following table, where Z stands for the archetype: —
Z
I
Thus H is the only MS. common to this edition and that of Ryle
and James; for Gebhardt regards the secondary MSS. V, M, P as
not deserving consideration. Notwithstanding there is a much
finer critical training for the student in the textual discussions
and retroversions in the latter edition than in the former. •
TRANSLATIONS. — Wellhausen, Die Pharisaer und die Sadducaer
(1874), 131 sqq. This translation is unfortunately based on the
editio princeps of De la Cerda published in 1626. Pick's translation
which appeared in the Presbyterian Review for October 1883,
pp. 775—813, is based on the same text and is imperfect owing to
a faulty knowledge of English. Ryle and James (op. cit.). Kittel's
translation (Kautzsch, Apokr. u. Pseudep. i. 1900, ii. 127 sqq.)
was made from von Gebhardt's text.
The Original Language. — All modern scholars are practically
agreed that the Psalms were written in Hebrew. It is unnecessary
to enter into this question here, but a point or two might be
mentioned which call for such a presupposition, (i.) First
we find that, after the manner of the canonical Psalms, the
musical symbol 6idi/aviav
TOV SpaKovros kv aTL^iq,. Here tliriiv, which is utterly meaningless,
= ip»tl7 a corruption of vp^ or Tpn1? "to change," "turn"
(Wellhausen). Thus we arrive at the sense required, " To
turn the pride of the dragon into dishonour, (iii.) Finally,
there are several passages where the text exhibits the future
tense, when it ought to give the past imperfect. This pheno-
menon can easily be explained as a false rendering of the
Hebrew imperfect.1
Date. — The date can be determined from references to con-
temporary events. Thus the book opens with the alarms of
war (i. 2, viii. i), in the midst of a period of great prosperity
(i. 3, 4, viii. 7), but the prosperity is merely material, for from
the king to the vilest of his subjects they are altogether sinful
(xvii. 21, 22). The king, moreover, is no descendant of David,
but has usurped his throne (xvii. 6-8). But judgment is at
hand. " A mighty striker " has come from the ends of the earth
(viii. 1 6), who when the princes of the land greeted him with
words of welcome (viii. 18), seized the city (viii. 21), cast down its
walls (ii. i), polluted its altar (ii. 2), put its princes and counsellors
to the sword (viii. 23), and carried away its sons and daughters
captive to the west (viii. 24, xvii. 14). But the dragon who con-
quered Jerusalem (ii. 29), and thought himself to be more
than man (ii. 32, 33), at last meets with shameful death on the
shores of Egypt (ii. 30, 31).
The above allusions are easy to interpret. The usurping
kings who are not descended from David are the Maccabeans.
The " mighty striker " is Pompey. The princes who welcomed
his approach are Aristobulus II. and Hyrcanus II. Pompey
carried off princes and people to the west, and finally perished
on the coast of Egypt in 48 B.C. Thus Ps. ii. was written
soon after 48 B.C., while Ps. i., viii., xvii. fall between 63 and
48 B.C., for they presuppose Pompey's capture of Jerusalem,
but show no knowledge of his death. Ps. v., vii., 5x., xiii., xv.
1 In addition to Ryle and Tames, Introd. pp. Ixxvii.-lxxxvii.,
see Perles, " Die Erklarung der Psalm. Sal." (Oriental. Litteralurzeit.,
1902, v. 7-10).
belong apparently to the same period, but iv. and xii. to an
earlier one. On the whole Ryle and James are right in assigning
70-40 B.C. as the limits within which the psalms were written.
Authorship. — The authors were Pharisees. They divide
their countrymen into two classes — " the righteous " (ii. 38-39,
iii. 3-5, 7, 8), and " the sinners " (ii. 38, iii. 13, iv. 9) ; " the saints "
(iii. 10) and " the transgressors " (iv. ii). The former are the
Pharisees; the latter the Sadducees. The authors protest
against the Asmonaean (i.e. the Maccabees) for usurping the
throne of David and laying violent hands on the high priest-
hood (xvii. 5, 6, 8), and proclaim the coming of the Messiah, the
true son of David (xvii. 23-25), who is to set all things right and
establish the supremacy of Israel. The Messiah is to be pure
from sin (xvii. 41), purge Jerusalem from the defilement of
sinners and of the Gentiles (xvii. 29, 30, 36), destroy the hostile
nations and extend his righteous rule over all the remaining
peoples of the earth (xvii. 27, 31, 32, 34, 38)."
Ps. xvii., xviii. and i.-xvi. can hardly be assigned to the same
authors. The hopes of the Messiah are confined to the former,
and a somewhat different eschatology underlies the two works (see
Charles, Eschatology: Hebrew, Jewish and Christian, 220-225).
In addition to the literature mentioned above, also in Ryle and
James's edition and Schurer, Gesch. dei jud. Volkes, 3rd ed., iii.
150 sqq, see Ency. Bib. i. 241-245. (R. H. C.)
SOLON (;th and 6th century B.C.), Athenian statesman, the son
of Execestides of the family of Codrus, was born about 638 B.C.
The prodigality of his father made it necessary for Solon to
maintain himself by trade, especially abroad. In his youth
he became well known as the author of amatory poems and
later of patriotic and didactic verse. Hence his inclusion among
the Seven Sages. Solon's first public service was the recovery of
Salamis from the Megarians. A law had been passed forbidding
any reference to the loss of the island; Solon solved the difficulty
by feigning madness, and reciting an inflammatory poem in
the agora. It appears that Solon was appointed to recover the
" fair island " and that he succeeded in expelling the Megarians.
Sparta finally arbitrated in favour of the Athenians (c. 596),
who ascribed their success to Solon. About a year later he
seems to have moved a decree before the Amphictyons declaring
war on Cirrha. At this period the distress in Attica and the
accumulating discontent of the poorer classes, for whom Draco's
code had proved inadequate, reached its height. Solon was
summoned by all classes unanimously to discover a remedy;
under the legal title of Archon, he received unlimited powers
which he exercised in economic and constitutional reforms
(see below). From various sources we learn that these reforms
met with considerable opposition, to escape from which Solon
left Athens for ten years. After visiting Egypt, he went to
Cyprus, where Philocyprus, king of Aepea, received him with
honour. Herodotus (v. 113) says that Philocyprus, on the ad-
vice of Solon, built himself a new town called, after his guest,
Soli. The story that Solon visited Croesus in Lydia, and made
to him the famous remark — " Call no man happy till he is dead "
— is unfortunately discredited by the fact that Croesus seems
to have become king nearly thirty years after Solon's legis-
lation, whereas the story must be dated within ten years of it.
Subsequently Solon returned to Athens, to find civil strife re-
newed, and shortly afterwards his friend (perhaps his relative)
Peisistratus made himself tyrant. About 558 B.C. Solon died,
and, according to the story in Diogenes Laertius i. 62 (but see
Plutarch's Solon, 32), his ashes were scattered round the island
of Salamis. If the story is true, it shows that he was regarded
as the oecist of Salamis.
Reforms. — The date of Solon's archonship has been usually
fixed at 594 B.C. (Ol. 46. 3), a date given by Diog. Laert. (i. 62)
on the evidence of the Rhodian Sosicrates (fl. 200-128 B.C.;
see Clinton, Fast. Hell. ii. 298, and Busolt, 2nd ed., ii. 259).
The date 594 is confirmed by "Statements in the Aristotelian Con-
stitution of Athens (ch. 14). For various reasons, the dates 592,
8 The conception of the Messiah is vigorous, but the influence
of such a conception was hurtful ; for by connecting the Messianic
with the popular aspirations of the nation, the former were secular-
ized and the way prepared for the ultimate destruction of the
nation.
SOLON
591 and even 590 have been suggested by various historians (for
the importance of this question see the concluding paragraph
of this article). The historical evidence for the Solonian
reforms has always been unsatisfactory. There is strong reason
to conclude that in the 5th and 4th centuries there was no
general tradition as to details. In settling differences there is no
appeal to tradition, and this though there occur radical and
insoluble contradictions. Thus the Constitution of Athens
(ch. vi.) says that the Seisachtheia (" shaking off of burdens ")
consisted in a cancelling of all debts public and private, whereas
Androtion, an elder contemporary, denies this specifically, and
says that it consisted in the reduction of the rate of interest
and the debasement of the coinage. The Constitution (ch. x.)
denies the existence of any connexion between the coinage reform
and the relief of debtors. The absence of tradition is further
confirmed by the fact that the Constitution always appeals for
corroboration to Solon's Poems. Of the Laws it is probable
that in the 4th century, though some dealing with agrarian
distress were in existence, those embodying the Seisachtheia
were not* and few if any of the purely constitutional laws re-
mained. The main source of the account in the Constitution
is, therefore, the Poems of Solon, from which numerous quota-
tions are made (see chs. 5-12).
The reforms of Solon may be divided under three heads
— economic, constitutional and miscellaneous. They were
necessary owing mainly to the tyrannical attitude of the rich
to the poorer classes. Of these many had become slaves in
lieu of payment of rent and loans, and thus the land had fallen
gradually into the hands of the capitalists. It was necessary
to readjust the economic balance and to provide against the
evil of aristocratic and capitalist predominance.
A. Economic Reforms. — Solon's economic reforms consisted of
the Seisachtheia and certain commercial laws (e.g. prevention of
export trade except in olive oil, Plut. Sol. 24). Among all the
problems connected with the Seisachtheia, it is clear (l) that Solon
abolished the old Attic law of debt which permitted loans on the
security of the debtor's person; (2) that he restored to freedom
those who had been enslaved for debt ; (3) that he refused the de-
mand for the division of the land (TTJS A.va5aaii.k). As to the can-
celling of all debts (\peSiv iironoirii) there is some controversy ;
Gilbert and Busolt maintain that all debts were cancelled ; strong
reasons, may however, be advanced against it. It is possible that
the statement in the Constitution is a hypothesis to explain the
restoration of the slaves to freedom. Further, Solon seems to
have regulated the accumulation of land (cf. in Rome the legislation
of Tiberius Gracchus) and the rate of interest ; and to have simplified
commerce by replacing the Pheidonian standard by the Euboic,
which was in use among the Ionian traders, in commerce with whom
he foresaw that prosperity lay. It is impossible here to enter into
the details of the controversy in connexion with Solon's land reforms ;
it must suffice to give the bare outlines of the dispute. There is
no question that (i) the distressed class whom Solon sought to re-
lieve were the Hektemors, and that (2) the achievement on which
he prided himself was the removal of the Spot or stones which were
seen everywhere in Attica, and were symbolic of the slavery of the
soil. Almost all writers say that these opot were mortgage-pillars:
that they were originally boundary stones and that when land was
mortgaged the terms of the agreement were carved on the stones,
as evidence. Now firstly, though such mortgage-pillars existed in
the time of Demosthenes, none are found earlier than the year
400 B.C., nor is there any reference before that year to this special
sense of the word. If then these stones which Solon removed
were mortgage-pillars, it is strange that none should have been found
till two hundred years later. Secondly, it is highly improbable
that the terms on which land was then cultivated admitted of
mortgaging at all. The Hektemors, who, according to the Constitu-
tion, paid the sixth part of their produce as rent,1 were not free-
holders but tenants, and therefore, could not mortgage their land
at all. From this it follows that when Solon said he had " re-
moved the stones " he referred to the fatal accumulation of land by
landowners. The tenants failed to pay rent, were enslaved, and the
" boundary stone " of the landowner was moved forward to include
their land. Thus the removal of the Spot was a measure against
the accumulation of land in the form of enclosures (TfjutxrjXand
fits in with the statement at the end of chapter iv. of the Constitution,
'Others say they were: (i) labourers who received one-sixth of
the produce as wages; (2) tenants who paid five-sixths as rent and
kept one sixth, or (3) tenants who paid one-sixth as rent and kept
five-sixths. As to (3) it is said such tenants could not have been
in real distress, and as to (i) and (2) it is said that such a position
would have meant starvation from the first.
" the land was in the hands of a few." It should be noted (i) that
from this releasing of the land it follows that Solon's law against
lending on the security of the person must have been retrospective
(i.e. in order to provide a sufficient number of freeholders for the
land released) ; and (2) that it is one of the most remarkable facts
in Athenian economic history that when at the end of the Pelopon-
nesian War a proposal was brought forward to limit the franchise
to freeholders, it was found that only five thousand failed to satisfy
this requirement.
B. Constitutional Reforms. — It is on this part of his work that
Solon's claim to be considered a great statesman is founded. By
his new constitution he laid the foundations of the Athenian
democracy and paved the way for its later developments. It
should be noted in the first place that the following account is
written on the assumption that the Draconian constitution de-
scribed in chapter iv. of the Constitution of Athens had never existed
(see DRACO). In some respects that alleged constitution is more
democratic than Solon's. This, coupled with the fact that Solon is
always spoken of as the founder of democracy, is one of the strongest
reasons for rejecting the Draconian constitution. It will be seen
that Solon's state was by no means a perfected democracy, but
was in some respects rather a moderate oligarchy in which political
privilege was graduated by possession of land. To Solon are gener-
ally ascribed the four classes — Pentacosiomedimni, Hippeis, Zeugitae
and Thetes. Of these the first consisted of those whose land pro-
duced as many measures (medimni) of corn and as many measures
(metretae) of oil and wine as together amounted to 500 measures.
The Hippeis (the horsemen, i.e. those who could provide a war-
horse for the service of the state) were rated at over 300 and under
500 medimni; the third class (those who tilled their land with a
yoke of oxen) at 200 medimni and the Thetes below 200 medimni.
The Zeugites probably served as heavy-armed soldiers, and the
Thetes were the sailors of the state. It is likely that the Zeugites
were mainly Hektemors (see above) whom Solon converted into
freeholders. Whether Solon invented these classes is uncertain,
but it seems clear that he first put them into definite relation
with the political organism. The Thetes (who included probably
the servants of the Eupatridae, now secured as freemen), the fisher-
men of the Paralia (or sea-coast), and the artisans (cerameis) of
Athens) for the first time received political existence by their admis-
sion to the sovereign assembly of the Ecclesia (q.v,). Of these classes
the first alone retained the right of holding the offices of archon
and treasurer; other offices were, however, opened to the second
and third classes (sc. the Poletae, the Eleven and the Colacretae;
see CLEISTHENES [I.] footnote). It is of the utmost importance
to observe that the office of Strategus (q.v.) is not mentioned in
connexion with Solon's reform. It is often said that Solon used
his classification as the basis of a sliding scale of taxation. Against
this, it is known that Peisistratus, whose faction was essentially
the poorer classes, established a uniform 5% tax, and it is highly
unlikely that he would have reversed an existing arrangement
which was particularly favourable to his friends. The admission
of the Thetes to the Ecclesia was an important step in the direction
of democracy (for the powers which Solon gave to the Ecclesia,
see ECCLESIA). But the greatest reform of Solon was undoubtedly
the institution of the Heliaea (or courts of justice). The jury
were appointed by lot from all the citizens (including the Thetes),
and thus the same people elected the magistrates in the Ecclesia
and subsequently tried them in the Heliaea. Hence Solon trans-
ferred the sovereign power from the areopagus and the magistrates
to the citizens as a whole. Further, as the archons, at the expiry
of their year of office, passed into the areopagus, the people exer-
cised control over the personnel of that body also (see AREOPAGUS).
In spite of the alleged Draconian constitution, alluded to above, it
is still very generally held that Solon invented the Boule or Council
of Four Hundred, one hundred from each of the old tribes. The
importance of this body as an advisory committee of the Ecclesia,
and the functions of the Prytaneis are explained under BOULE.
It is sufficient here to point out that, according to Plutarch's Solon
(ch. 19) the state henceforth rested on two councils " as on anchors,"
and that the large powers exercised by the Cleisthenean Bpule
were not exercised by the Solonian. From this, and the articles
AREOPAGUS, BOULE, ECCLESIA and GREEK LAW, it will be seen that
Solon contrived an absolutely organic constitution of a " mixed "
type, which had in it the seeds of the great democratic growth
which reached its maturity under Pericles. It should be ^dded
here, in reference to the election of magistrates under Solon's con-
stitution, that there is discrepancy between the Politics and the
Constitution; the latter says that Solon gave to the Thetes nothing
but a share in the Ecclesia and the courts of justice, and that the
magistrates were elected by a combination of selection and lot
(icXTipaiTot IK TrpoKptruv) , whereas the Politics says that Solon gave
them only the power to elect the magistrates and try them at the
end of their year. It seems likely for other reasons that the former
scheme should be assigned to the years after Marathon, and, there-
fore, that the account in the Politics is correct (but see ARCHON).
C. Miscellaneous. — The miscellaneous laws of Solon are inter-
esting primarily as throwing light upon the social condition of
Athens at the time (see Evelyn Abbot, History of Greece, I. xiii. § 18).
368
SOLSTICE— SOLUTION
In the matter of trade it has been said that he favoured one
export only, that of olive oil, in which Athens was peculiarly
rich; further he encouraged the settlement of aliens (metoeci)
engaged in commerce, and compelled fathers to teach their sons
a useful trade under penalty of losing all right to support in old
age. The influence of women Solon regarded as most pernicious.
Wealthy wives he forbade; no bride might bring more than three
changes of raiment and a little light furniture to the house; all
brothels and gymnasia were put under stringent state-control
(see PROSTITUTION). Solon also regulated intestate succession,
the marriage of heiresses, adoption, the use and sinking of wells,
bee-farming, the planting of olives and figs, the cutting down of
olive trees, the calendar. Further, he ordained that each citizen
must show how he obtained his living (Herod, ii. 177) and must,
under penalty of losing the franchise, adhere to one or other party
in a sedition (for these laws see Plutarch's Solon, chs. 20-24).
The laws were inscribed on Kyrbeis or tablets framed in wood
which could be swung round (hence also called axones). The boule
as a body swore to observe the laws, and each archon undertook
to set up a life-size golden statue at Delphi if he should be convicted
of transgressing them.
Solon appears to have supplemented his enactments by a law
that they should remain in force for one hundred years, and accord-
ing to another account that his laws, though not the best, should
stand unchanged for ten years (Plut. Solon, 25; Herod, i. 29).
Yet according to the Constitution of Athens (chs. 11-13) (without
which the period from Solon to Peisistratus was a blank), when Solon
went abroad in 593(?) the city was disturbed, and in the fifth year
dissension became so acute that no archon was elected (for the
chronological problem, see J. E. Sandys, Constitution of Athens,
ch. 13, note) ; again four years later the same anarchia (i.e. no archon
elected) occurred. Then four years later the archon Damasias
(582 ?) continued in office illegally for two years and two months.
The office of the archon was then put into commission of ten : five
from the Eupatrids, three from the Agroeci and two from the Demi-
urgi, and for twenty years the state was in a condition of strife.
Thus we see that twelve years of strife (owing to Solon's financial
reforms) ended in the reversal of Solon's classification by assess-
ment. We are, therefore, driven to conclude that the practical
value of his laws was due to the strong and enlightened govern-
ment of Peisistratus, whose tyranny put an end to the quarrels
between the Shore, the Upland and the Plain, and the stasis of rich
and poor.
See editions with notes of Constitution of Athens (q.v.); histories
of Greece later than 1891 (e.g. Busolt, &c.). See also Gilliard,
Quelques r&formes de Solon (1907); Cavaignac, in Revue de Philol.,
1908. All works anterior to the publication of the Constitution
are so far out of date, but reference should be made to the work
ofGrote. (J.M. ty.)
SOLSTICE (Lat. solstitium, from sol, sun, and sistere, to stand
still), in astronomy either of the two points at which the sun
reaches its greatest declination north or south. Each solstice
is upon the ecliptic midway between the equinoxes, and there-
fore 90° from each. The term is also applied to the moment
at which the sun reaches the point thus denned.
SOLUNTUM (Gr. SoXoets or 2oAoCs), an ancient town of
Sicily, one of the three chief Phoenician settlements in the island,
situated on the north coast, 10 m. E. of Panormus (Palermo),
600 ft. above sea-level, on the S.E. side of Monte Catalfano
(1225 ft.), in a naturally strong situation, and commanding a
fine view. The date of its first occupation is, like that of Panor-
mus, unknown. It continued to be a Carthaginian possession
almost uninterruptedly until the First Punic War, when, after
the fall of Panormus, it opened its gates to the Romans. In the
Roman period it seems to have been of no great importance;
an inscription, erected by the citizens in honour of Fulvia Plau-
tilla, the wife of Caracalla, was found there in 1857. It was
perhaps destroyed by the Saracens and is now entirely deserted.
Excavations have brought to light considerable remains of the
ancient town, belonging entirely to the Roman period, and a
good deal still remains unexplored. An archaic oriental Artemis
sitting between a lion and a panther, found here, is in the museum
at Palermo, with other antiquities from this site. With the
exception of the winding road by which the town was approached
on the south, the streets, despite the unevenness of the ground,
which in places is so steep that steps have to be introduced, are
laid out regularly, running from east to west and from north
to south, and intersecting at right angles. They are as a rule
paved with slabs of stone. The houses were constructed of
rough walling, which was afterwards plastered over; the natural
rock is often used for the lower part of the walls. One of
the largest of them, with a peristyle, is currently, though
wrongly, called the Gymnasium. Near the top of the town are
some cisterns cut in the rock, and at the summit is a larger
house than usual, with mosaic pavements and paintings on
its walls. (T. As.)
SOLUTION (from Lat. sohere, to loosen, dissolve). When a
solid such as salt or sugar dissolves in contact with water to
form a uniform substance from which the components may be
regained by evaporation the substance is called a solution.
Gases too dissolve in liquids, while mixtures of various liquids
show similar properties. Certain solids also consist of two or
more components which are united so as to show similar effects.
All these cases of solution are to be distinguished from chemical
compounds on the one hand, and from simple mixtures on the
other. When a substance contains its components in definite
proportions which can only change, if at all, by sudden steps, it
may be classed as a chemical compound. When the relative
quantities of the components can vary continuously within
certain limits, the substance is either a solution or a mixture.
The distinction between these two classes is not sharp; though
when the properties of the resultant are sensibly thfe sum of
those of the pure components, as is nearly the case for a complex
gas such as air, it is usual to class it as a mixture. When the
properties of the resultant substance are different from those
of the components and it is not a chemical compound we define
it as a solution.
Historical. — Solutions were not distinguished from definite
chemical compounds till John Dalton discovered the laws of
definite and multiple proportions, but many earlier observations
on the solubility of solids in water and the density of the resulting
solutions had been made. As early as 1788 Sir Charles Blagden
(1748-1820) made measurements of the freezing points of salt
solutions, and showed that the depression of freezing point was
roughly proportional to the amount of salt dissolved. About
1850 Thomas Graham published his famous experiments on
diffusion, both with and without a separating membrane. In
1867 botanical investigations by M. Traube, and in 1877 others
by W. Pfeffer, made known the phenomena of the osmotic
pressure which is set up by the passage of solvent through a
membrane impermeable to the dissolved substance or solute.
The importance of these experiments from the physical point
of view was recognized by J. H. van't Hoff in 1885, who showed
that Pfeffer's results indicated that osmotic pressure of a dilute
solution conformed to the well-known laws of gas pressure,
and had the same absolute value as the same number of mole-
cules would exert as a gas filling a space equal to the value of
the solvent. The conception of a semi-permeable membrane,
permeable to the solvent only, was used by van't Hoff as a
means of applying the principles of thermodynamics to the
theory of solution.
Another method of applying the same principles is due to
J. Willard Gibbs, who considered the whole problem of physical
and chemical equilibrium in papers published in 1877, though
the application of his principles only began to make extensive
progress about twenty years after the publication of his purely
theoretical investigations. The phenomena of solution and of
vapour pressure constitute cases of equilibrium, and conform
to the laws deduced by Gibbs, which thus yield a valuable
method of investigating and classifying the equilibria of
solutions.
Solubility. — Some pairs of liquids are soluble in each other
in all proportions, but, in general, when dealing with solutions
of solids or gases in liquids, a definite limit is reached to the
amount which will go into solution when the liquid is in contact
with excess of the solid or gas. This limit depends on the nature
of the two components, on the temperature and on the pressure.
When the limit is reached the solution is said to be saturated,
and the system is in equilibrium. If the solution of a solid
more soluble when hot be cooled below the saturation point,
the whole of the solid sometimes remains in solution. The
liquid is then said to be supersaturated. But here the conditions
are different owing to the absence of solid. If a crystal of the
solid be added, the condition of supersaturation is destroyed,
SOLUTION
369
and the ordinary equilibrium of saturation is reached by precipi-
tation of solid from solution.
The quantity of substance, or solute, which a given quantity of
liquid or solvent will dissolve in presence of excess of the solute
measures the solubility of the solute in the given solvent in the
conditions of temperature and pressure. The solubilities of solids
may be expressed in terms of the mass of solute which will dissolve
in 100 grammes of water.
The following may be taken as examples: —
Chemical
Solubility
Gnlnta
of the Solid.
at 0° C.
at 20° C.
at 100 °C.
Sodium chloride
NaCl
35-7
36-0
39-8
Potassium nitrate .
KNO3
13-3
31-2
247-0
Barium chloride
BaClj
3°'9
35-7
58-8
Copper sulphate .
Calcium carbonate
CuSOi
CaCO3
15-5
0-0018
22 -O
73-5
0-0018
Silver nitrate
AgN03
121-9
227-3
(at i9°-5
IIII-O
(at 110°)
When dealing with gases it is usually more convenient to express
the solubility as the ratio of the volume of the gas absorbed to the
volume of the absorbing liquid. For gases such as oxygen and
nitrogen dissolved in water the solubility as thus defined is inde-
pendent of the pressure, or the mass of gas dissolved is propor-
tional to the pressure. This relation does not hold for very soluble
gases, such as ammonia, at low temperatures. As a general rule
gases are less soluble at high than at low temperatures — unlike the
majority of solids. Thus oxygen, 4-89 volumes of which dissolve
at atmospheric pressure in I volume of water at o° C., only dissolves
to the extent of 3- 10 volumes at 20° and 1-70 volumes at 100°.
Cause of Solubility. — At the outset of the subject we are met
by a fundamental problem, to which no complete answer can
be given: Why do certain substances dissolve in certain other
substances and not in different substances? Why are some
pairs of liquids miscible in each other in all proportions, while
other pairs do not mix at all, or only to a limited extent? No
satisfactory correlation of solubility with chemical or other
properties has been made. It is possible to state the conditions
of solubility in terms of the theory of available energy, but the
result comes to little more than a re-statement of the problem
in other terms. Nevertheless, such a re-statement is in itself
sometimes an advance in knowledge. It is certain then that
when dissolution occurs the available energy of the whole
system is decreased by the process, while when equilibrium is
reached and the solution is saturated the available energy is a
minimum. When a variable quantity is at a minimum a slight
change in the system does not affect its value, and therefore,
when a solution is saturated, the increase in the available energy
of the liquid phase produced by dissolving in it some of the solid
must be equal to the decrease in the available energy of the solid
phase, caused by the abstraction from the bulk of that part
dissolved. The general theory of such equilibria will be studied
later under the head of the phase rule.
It is possible that a correlation may be made between solubility
and the energy of surface tension. If a solid is immersed in a
liquid a certain part of the energy of the system depends on,
and is proportional to, the area of contact between solid and
liquid. Similarly with two liquids like oil and water, which do
not mix, we have surface energy proportional to the area of
contact. Equilibrium requires that the available energy and
therefore the area of contact should be a minimum, as is demon-
strated in Plateau's beautiful experiment, where a large drop of
oil is placed in a liquid of equal density and a perfect sphere is
formed. If, however, the energy of surface tension between
the two substances were negative the surface would tend to a
maximum, and complete mixture would follow. From this
point of view the natural solubility of two substances involves a
negative energy of surface tension between them.
Gibbs's Phase Rule. — A saturated solution is a system in equili-
brium, and exhibits the thermodynamic relations which hold
for all such systems. Just as two electrified bodies are in
equilibrium when their electric potentials are equal, so two
parts of a chemical and physical system are in equilibrium when
there is equality between the chemical potentials of each com-
ponent present in the two parts. Thus water and steam are in
equilibrium with each other when the chemical potential of water
substance is the same in the liquid as in the vapour. The
chemical potentials are clearly functions of the composition of
the system, and of its temperature and pressure. It is usual
to call each part of the system of uniform composition through-
out a phase; in the example given, water substance, the only
component is present in two phases — a liquid phase and a vapour
phase, and when the potentials of the component are the same
in each phase equilibrium exists.
If in unit mass of any phase we have n components instead of one
we must know the amount of n— I components present in that
unit mass before we know the exact composition of it. Thus if
in one gramme of a mixture of water, alcohol and salt we are told
the amount of water and salt, we can tell the amount of alcohol.
If, instead of one phase, we have r phases, we must find out the
values of r(n — i) quantities before we know the composition
of the whole system. Thus, to investigate the composition of the
system we must be able to calculate the value of r (n — i) unknown
quantities. To these must be added the external variables of
temperature and pressure, and then as the total number of variables,
we have r (n-j-i) + 2.
To determine these variables we may form equations between
the chemical potentials of the different components — quantities
which are functions of the variables to be determined. If p\ and
m denote the potentials of any one component in two phases in
contact, when there is equilibrium, we know that w=M2- If
a third phase is in equilibrium with the other two we have also
Hi=H3- These two equations involve the third relation /« = jU3.
which therefore is not an independent equation. Hence with three
phases we can form two independent equations for each component.
With r phases we can form r — l equations for each component, and
with n components and r phases we obtain n(r — l) equations.
Now by elementary algebra we know that if the number of inde-
pendent equations be equal to the number of unknown quantities
all the unknown quantities can be determined, and can possess each
one value only. Thus we shall be able to specify the system com-
pletely when the number of variables, viz. r (n— i) +2, is equal
to the number of equations, viz. n(r — i); that is when r=n + 2.
Thus, when a system possesses two more phases than the number
of its components, all the phases will be in equilibrium with each
other at one definite composition, one definite temperature and one
definite pressure, and in no other conditions. To take the simplest
case of a one component system water substance has its three
phases of solid ice, liquid water and gaseous vapour in equilibrium
with each other at the freezing point of water under the pressure
of its own vapour. If we attempt to change either the temperature
or the pressure ice will melt, water will evaporate or vapour con-
dense until one or other of the phases has vanished. We then have
in equilibrium two phases only, and the temperature and pressure
may change. Thus, if we supply heat to the mixture of ice, water
and steam ice will melt and eventually vanish. We then have
water and vapour in equilibrium, and, as more heat enters, the tem-
perature rises and the vapour-pressure rises with it. But, if we
fix arbitrarily the temperature the pressure of equilibrium can
have one value only. Thus by fixing one variable we fix the state
of the whole system. This condition is represented in the alge-
braic theory when we have one more unknown quantity than the
number of equations; i.e. when r(n — i) + 2=n(r — i) + I or
r = » + l, and the number of phases is one more than the number
of components. Similarly if we have F more unknowns than we
have equations to determine them, we must fix arbitrarily F co-
ordinates before we fix the state of the whole system. The number
F is called the number of degrees of freedom of the system, and is
measured by the excess of the number of unknowns over the number
of variables. Thus F = r(n — i) + 2 — n(r — i) = n — r + 2, a
result which was deduced by J. Willard Gibbs (1839-1903) and
is known as Gibbs's Phase-Rule (see ENERGETICS).
The phenomena of equilibrium can be represented on diagrams.
Thus, if we take our co-ordinates to represent pressure and tem-
perature, the state of the systems p
with ice, water and vapour in
equilibrium is represented by the
point O where the pressure is
that of the vapour of water at
the freezing point and the tem-
perature is the freezing point
under that pressure. If all the
ice be melted, we pass along the
vapour' pressure curve of water
OA. If all the water be frozen,
we have the vapour pressure
curve of ice OB; while, if the
pressure be raised, so that all
the vapour vanishes, we get the
curve OC of equilibrium between
the pressure and the freezing point of water. The slope of these
curves is determined by the so-called " latent heat equation "
FIG. i.
SOLUTION
(see THERMODYNAMICS), dpli), where p and t denote
the pressure and temperature, X the heat required to change unit
mass of the systems from one phase to the other, and »2 — DI
the resulting change in volume. The phase rule combined with the
latent heat equation contains the whole theory of chemical and
physical equilibrium.
Application to Solutions. — In a system containing a solution
we have to deal with two components at least. The simplest
case is that of water and a salt, such as sodium chloride, which
crystallizes without water. Tp obtain a non-variant system, we
must assemble four phases — two more than the number of
components. The four phases are (i) crystals of salt, (2)
crystals of ice, (3) a saturated solution of the salt in water, and
(4) the vapour, which is that practically of water alone, since the
salt is non-volatile at the temperature in question. Equili-
brium between these phases is obtained at the freezing point of
the saturated solution under the pressure of the vapour. At that
pressure and temperature the four phases can co-exist, and, as
long as all of them are present, the pressure and temperature will
remain steady. Thus a mixture of ice, salt and the saturated
solution has a constant freezing point, and the composition of
the solution is constant and the same as that of the mixed
solids which freeze out on the abstraction of heat. This con-
stancy both in freezing point and composition formerly was
considered as a characteristic of a pure chemical compound, and
hence these mixtures were described as components and given
the name of " cryohydrates."
In representing on a diagram the phenomena of equilibrium
in a two-component system we require a third axis along which
p to plot the composition of a
variable phase. It is usual
to take three axes at right
- angles to each other to repre-
sent pressure, temperature
and the' composition of the
variable phase. On a plane
figure this solid diagram
must be drawn in perspec-
tive, the third axis C being
imagined to lie out of the
plane of the paper. The
* phase-rule diagram that we
FIG. 2. construct is then a sketch
of a solid model, the lines of which do not really lie in the plane
of the paper.
Let us return to the case of the system of salt and water. At the
cryohydric point O we have four phases in equilibrium at a definite
pressure, temperature and composition of the liquid phase. The
condition of the system is represented by a single point on the
diagram. If heat be added to the mixture ice will melt and salt
dissolve in the water so formed. If the supply of ice fails first
the temperature will rise, and, since solid salt remains, we pass
along a curve OA giving the relation between temperature and the
vapour pressure of the saturated solution. If, on the other hand,
the salt of the cryohydrate fails before the ice the water given by
the continued fusion dilutes the solution, and we pass along the
curve OB which shows the freezing points of a series of solutions of
constantly increasing dilution. If the process be continued till
a very large quantity of ice be melted the resulting solution is so
dilute that its freezing point B is identical with that of the pure
solvent. Again, starting from O, by the abstraction of heat we can
remove all the liquid and travel along the curve OD of equilibrium
between the two solids (salt and ice) and the vapour. Or, by in-
creasing the pressure, we eliminate the vapour and obtain the
curve OF giving the relation between pressure, freezing point and
composition when a saturated solution is in contact with ice and
salt.
If the salt crystallizes with a certain amount of water as well
as with none, we get a second point of equilibrium between four
phases. Sodium sulphate, for instance, crystallizes below 32-6°
as Na2SO4-ioH2O, and above that temperature as the anhydrous
solid Na2SO«. Taking the point O to denote the state of equilibrium
between ice, hydrate, saturated solution and vapour, we pass along
OA till a new solid phase, that of Na2SO4, appears at 32-6°; from
this point arise four curves, analogous to those diverging from the
point O.
For the quantitative study of such systems in detail it
is convenient to draw plane diagrams which are theoretically
projections of the curves of the solid phase rule diagram on one
or other of these planes. Experiments on the relation between
temperature and concentration are illustrated by projecting the
curve OA of fig. 2 on the /c-plane. The pressure at each point
should be that of the vapour, but since the solubility of a solid
does not change much with pressure, measurements under the
constant atmospheric pressure give a curve practically identical
with the theoretical one.
Fig. 3 gives the equilibrium between sodium sulphate and
water in this way. B is the freezing point of pure water, O that
3
FIG. 3.
of a saturated solution of Na2SO4-ioH2O. The curve OP repre-
sents the varying solubility of the hydrate as the temperature rises
from the cryohydric point to 32-6°. At that temperature crystals
of the anhydrous Na2SO< appear, and a new fixed equilibrium
exists between the four phases — hydrate, anhydrous salt, solution
and vapour. As heat is supplied, the hydrate is transformed
gradually into the anhydrous salt and water. When this process
is complete the temperature rises, and we pass along a new curve
giving the equilibrium between anhydrous crystals, solution and
vapour. In this particular case the solubility decreases with rise
of temperature. This behaviour is exceptional.
Two Liquid Components. — The more complete phenomena of
mutual solubility are illustrated by the case of phenol and water.
In fig. 4 A represents the
freezing point of pure water,
and AB the freezing point
curve showing the depression
of the freezing point as phenol
is added. At B is a non-
variant system made up of
ice, solid phenol, saturated
solution and vapour. BCD
is the solubility curve of
phenol in water. At C a new ,0°.
liquid phase appears — the
solution of water in liquid
phenol, the solubility of which
is represented by the curve
Water
so
FIG. 4.
Phenol
DE. At D the composition of the two liquids becomes identical,
and at temperatures above D, 68° C the liquids are soluble in each
other in all proportions, and only one liquid phase can exist. If
the two substances are soluble in each other in all proportions
at all temperatures above their melting points we get a diagram
reduced to the two fusion curves cutting each other at a non-
variant point. This behaviour is illustrated by the case of
silver and copper (fig. 5). o go w so so ioo7.
At the non-variant point
the two metals freeze out
together and the composi- 100°
tion of the liquid is the
same as that of the mixed 900
solid which crystallizes from
it. The solid is then known soo°
as a eutectic alloy. '
A liquid in which the com-
position is nearly that of the
eutectic shows the changes
in the rate of fall of tempera-
ture as it is allowed to cool.
Silver
FIG. 5.
Copper
First a small quantity of one of the
pure components begins to crystallize out, and the rate of cooling is
thereby diminished owing to the latent heat liberated by the change
of state. This process continues till the composition of the liquid
phase reaches that of the eutectic, when the whole mass solidifies
on the further loss of heat without change of temperature, giving
a very definite freezing point. The process of cooling is thus repre-
sented by a path which runs vertically downwards till it cuts the
SOLUTION
371
SO
FIG. 6.
100
freezing point curve, and then travels along it till the non-variant
point is reached. In this way two temperature points are obtained
in the investigation — the higher giving a point on the equilibrium
curve, the lower showing the non-variaju: point.
Other pairs of alloys, showing more complicated relations, are
described in ALLOY. Experiments on alloys are, in some ways,
easier to make than on pairs of non-metallic substances, partly
owing to the possibility of polishing sections for microscopic examina-
tion, and the investigation of alloys has done much to elucidate the
general phenomena of solution, of which metallic solution constitutes
a special case.
When 'the two components form chemical compounds with each
other, the phenomena of mutual solubility become more complex.
•a For a simple case to serve
as an introduction, let
us again turn to alloys.
Copper and antimony form
a single compound SbCu2.
If either copper or anti-
mony be added to this
compound, the freezing
point is lowered just as
it would be if a new sub-
stance were added, to a
solvent. Thus on each
side of the point B repre-
senting this compound, the
curve falls. Proceeding
along . the curve in either
direction, we come to a non-variant or eutectic point. In one case
(represented by the point A in the figure) the solid which freezes out is
a conglomerate of crystals of the compound with those of antimony,
in the other case C with those of copper. Thus in interpreting
complicated freezing point curves, we must look for chemical
compounds where the curve shows a maximum, and for a eutectic
or cryohydrate where two curves meet at a minimum point.
We are now ready to study a case where several compounds are
formed between the two components. A good example is the
equilibrium of ferric chloride
and water, studied by B.
Roozeboom. The experi-
mental curve of solubility is
shown in fig. 7. At A we
have the freezing point of
pure water, which is lowered
by the gradual addition of
ferric chloride in the manner
shown by the curve AB. At
B we have the non-variant
cryohydric point at which ice,
the hydrate Fe2Cl6-i2H2O,
the saturated solution and
the vapour are in equilibrium
at 55° C. _ As the proportion
of salt is increased, the
melting point of the con-
glomerate rises, till, at the
maximum point C, we have
the pure compound the hy-
drate with twelve molecules
30 of water. Beyond C, the
FIG. 7. addition of salt lowers the
melting point again, till at D we obtain another non-variant
point. This indicates the appearance of a new compound, which
should exist pure at E, the next maximum, and, led by these
considerations, Roozeboom discovered and isolated a previously
unknown hydrate, Fe2Cl67-H2O. In a similar way the curve FGH,
between 30° and 55°, shows the effect of the hydrate Fe2Cl6-5H2O,
and the curve HJK that of the hydrate Fe2Cl6-4H2O, which, when
pure, melts at 73-5° — the point J on the diagram. At the point
K, 66°, begins the solubility curve of the anhydrous salt, Fe2Cl6,
the fusion point of which when pure is beyond the limits of the
diagram. Let us now trace the behaviour of a solution of ferric
chloride which is evaporated to dryness at a constant temperature
of 31°. The phenomena may be investigated by following a hori-
zontal line across the diagram. When the curve BC is reached,
Fe2Cl8-l2H2O separates out, and the solution solidifies. Further
renewal of water will cause first liquefaction, as the curve CD is
passed, and then resolidification to Fe2Cl6'7H2O when DE is cut.
Again the solid will liquefy and once more become solid as
Fe2Cl6'5H2O. Still further evaporation causes these crystals to
effloresce and pass into the anhydrous salt. As we have seen,
the maxima of the various curve-branches at C, E, G, and J corre-
spond with the melting points of the various hydrates at 37 , 32-5°,
56° and 73-5° respectively; and at these points melting or solidifica-
tion of the whole mass can occur at constant temperature. But
we have also found this behaviour to be characteristic of the non-
variant or transition points, which, in this case, are represented
by the points B,D,F, Hand K (-55°, 27-4°, 30°, 55° and 66 6). Thus
in two ways at least a constant melting point can be obtained in a
two-component system.
Solid Solutions. — In all the cases hitherto considered, the
liquid phase alone has been capable of continuous variation in
composition. The solid phases each have been of one definite
substance. Crystals of ice may lie side by side with crystals
of common salt, but each crystalline individual is either ice or
salt; no one crystal contains both components in proportions
which can be varied continuously. But, in other cases, crystals
are known in which both components may enter. Such pheno-
mena are well known in the alums — double sulphates of alu-
minium with another metal. Here the other metal may be one,
such as potassium, or two, such as potassium and sodium, and,
in the latter case, the proportion between the two may vary
continuously throughout wide limits. Such structures are known
as mixed crystals or solid solutions.
The theoretical form of the freezing point diagrams when solid
solutions are present depends on the relation between the available
energy and the composition in the two phases. This relation is
known when the amount of either component present in the other
is very small, for it is then the relation for a dilute system and can
FIG. 8.
FIG. 9.
FIG. 10.
FIG. n.
be calculated. But at intermediate compositions we can only
guess at the form of the energy-composition curve, and the freezing
point composition curve, deduced from it, will vary according to
the supposition which we make. With the most likely forms for
the energy curves we get the accompanying diagrams for the relation
between freezing point and concentration.
It will be noticed that in all these theoretical curves the points
of initial fusion and solidification do not in general coincide; we
reach a different curve first according as we approach the diagram
from below, where all is solid, or from above, where all is liquid.
Again, it will be seen that the addition of a small quantity of one
component, say B, to the other, A, does not necessarily lower the
melting point, as it does with systems with no solid solutions; it
is quite as likely to cause it to rise. The second and third figures,
too, show that the presence of solid solutions may simulate the
phenomena of chemical combination, where the curve reaches a
maximum, and of non-variant systems where we get a minimum.
The fourth figure shows that, in some cases, it should be possible
for solid solutions to be present in a limited part of the field only,
being absent between the two nearly vertical lines in fig. II.
Experiment has revealed the existence of systems in which these
phenomena are displayed. As an example we may take the case
of mixtures of naphthalene and /9-naphthol, substances which form
solid solutions in each other. The freezing and melting point
curves are exactly similar to theoretical curves of fig. 8, the
point A representing pure naphthalene and B pure /S-naphthol.
When the equilibria become more complex difficulties of interpre-
tation of the experimental results often arise. It is often very
difficult to distinguish between a chemical compound, for example,
and the case of solid solution represented by fig. 9. All available
evidence, from the freezing point curve and from other sources must
be scrutinized before an opinion is pronounced. But the elucida-
tion of the complicated phenomena of solid solutions would have
been impossible without the theoretical knowledge deduced from
the principle of available energy.
Supersaturation. — When a crystal of the solid phase is present
the equilibrium of a solution is given by the solubility curves
we have studied. If, however, a solution be cooled slowly past
its saturation point with no solid present, crystallization does
not occur till some lower temperature is reached. Between the
saturation point and this lower temperature, the liquid holds in
solution more of the solute than corresponds with equilibrium,
and is said to be supersaturated. A familiar example is to be
found in solutions of sodium sulphate, which may be cooled much
below their saturation point and kept in the liquid state till a
crystal of the hydrate NazSCvioHjO is dropped in, when solidifi-
cation occurs with a large evolution of latent heat. These
phenomena are explicable if we consider the energy relations,
372
SOLUTION
for the intrinsic energy of a system will contain terms depending
on the area of contact between different phases, and, for a given
mass of material, the area will be greater if the substance is
finely divided. Hence the conditions necessary to secure
equilibrium when the solid phase is present are not the same as
those necessary to cause crystallization to start in a number of
crystals at first excessively minute in size. The corresponding
phenomenon in the case of vapours is well known. Dust-free air
will remain supersaturated with water-vapour in conditions
where a dense cloud would be formed in presence of solid dust-
nuclei or electric ions which serve the same purpose.
If a solution of a salt be stirred as it cools in an open vessel, a thin
shower of crystals appears at or about the saturation temperature.
These crystals grow steadily, but do not increase in number. When
the temperature has fallen about 10° C. below this point of saturation,
a dense shower of new crystals appear suddenly. This shower
may be dense enough to make the liquid quite opaque. These
phenomena have been studied by H. A. Miers and Miss F. Isaac.
If the solution be confined in a sealed glass tube, the first thin shower
is not formed, and the system remains liquid till the secondary
dense shower comes down. From this and other evidence it has
been shown that the first thin shower in open vessels is produced
by the accidental presence of tiny crystals obtained from the dust
of the air, while the second dense shower marks the point of spon-
taneous crystallization, where the decrease in total available energy
caused by solidification becomes greater than the increase due to
the large surface of contact between the liquid and the potentially
existing multitudinous small crystals of the shower.
If the _ temperature at which this dense spontaneous shower of
crystals is found be determined for different concentrations of
solution, we can plot a " supersolubility curve," which is found
generally to run roughly parallel to the " solubility curve " of
steady equilibrium between liquid and already existing solid.
When two substances are soluble in each other in all proportions,
we get solubility curves like those of copper and silver shown in
fig. 5- We should expect to find supersolubility curves lying below
the solubility curves, and this result has been realized experimentally
for the supersolubility curves of mixtures of salol (phenyl salicylate)
and betol (|8-naphthol salicylate) represented by the dotted lines
of fig. 12.
In practical cases of crystallization in nature, it is probable that
these phenomena of supersaturation often occur. If a liquid mixture
mfl of A and B (fig. 12) were inocu-
lated with crystals of A when its
composition was that represented
by x, cooled very slowly and
stirred, the conditions would be
those of equilibrium throughout.
When the temperature sank to
a, on the freezing point curve,
crystals of pure A would appear.
The residual liquid would thus
become richer in B, and the tem-
perature and composition would
pass along the curve till E, the
eutectic point, was reached. The
liquid then becomes saturated
with B also, and, if inoculated
with B crystals, will deposit B
20
20 40 BO so too
A Percentage of Satal In Mixture B
FIG. 12.
alongside of A, till the whole mass
is solid. But, if no solid be present initially, or if the cooling be rapid,
the liquid of composition x becomes supersaturated and may cool till
the supersaturation curve is reached at 6, and a cloud of A crystals
comes down. The temperature may then rise and the concentration
of B increase in the liquid in a manner represented by some such
line as 6 /. The conditions may then remain those of equilibrium
along the curve / E, but before reaching / the solution may become
supersaturated with B and deposit B crystals spontaneously. The
eutectic point may never be reached. The possibility of these
phenomena should be borne in mind when attempts are made to
interpret the structure of crystalline bodies in terms of the theory
of equilibrium.
Osmotic Pressure. — The phase rule combined with the latent
heat equation enables us to trace the general phenomena of
equilibrium in solutions, and to elucidate and classify cases even
of great complexity. But other relations between the different
properties of solutions have been investigated by another series
of conceptions which we shall proceed to develop. Some
botanical experiments made about 1870 suggested the idea of
semi-permeable membranes, i.e. membranes which allow a
solvent to pass freely but are impervious to a solute when dis-
solved in that solvent. It was found, for instance, that a
film of insoluble copper ferrocyanide, deposited in the walls of a
porous vessel by the inward diffusion and meeting of solutions
of copper sulphate and potassium ferrocyanide, would allow
water to pass, but retained sugar dissolved in that liquid. It
was found, too, when water was placed on one side of such a
membrane, and a sugar solution in a confined space on the other,
that water entered the solution till a certain pressure was set
up when equilibrium resulted.
The importance of these experiments from the point of view of
the theory of solution, lay in the fact that they suggested the con-
ception of a perfect or ideal semi-permeable partition, arid that of
an equilibrium pressure representing the excess of hydrostatic
pressure required to keep a solution in equilibrium with its pure
solvent through such a partition. Artificial membranes are seldom
or never perfectly semi-permeable — some leakage of solute nearly
always occurs, but the imperfections of actual membranes need no
more prevent pur use of the ideal conception than the faults of real
engines invalidate the theory of ideal thermodynamics founded
on the conception of a perfect, reversible, frictionless, heat engine.
Further, in the free surface the solutions of an involatile solute in a
volatile solvent, through which surface the vapour of the solvent
alone can pass, and in the boundary of a crystal of pure ice in a
solution, we have actual surfaces which are in effect perfectly semi-
permeable. Thus the results of our investigations based on ideal
conceptions are applicable to the real phenomena of evaporation
and freezing.
Dilute Solutions. — Before considering the more complicated
case of a concentrated solution, we will deal with one which is
very dilute, when the theoretical relations are much
simplified. The vapour pressure of a solution may be
measured experimentally by two methods. It may be
compared directly with that of the pure solvent, as the vapour-
pressure of a pure liquid is determined, by placing solvent and
solution respectively above the mercury in two barometer tubes,
and comparing the depressions of the mercury with the height
of a dry barometer at the same temperature. This method was
used by Raoult. On the other hand, a current of dry air may
be passed through the series of weighed bulbs containing solution
and solvent respectively, and the loss in weight of each determined.
The loss in the solution bulbs gives the mass of solvent absorbed
from the solution, and the, loss in the solvent bulbs the additional
mass required to raise the vapour pressure in the air-current to
equilibrium with the pure solvent. The relative lowering of
vapour pressure of the solution compared with that of the solvent
is measured by the ratio of the extra mass absorbed from the
solvent bulbs to the total mass absorbed from both series of bulbs.
Experiments by this method have been made by W. Ostwald and
J. Walker, and by Lord Berkeley and E. G. J. Hartley.
The vapour pressure of the solution of a non-volatile solute is
less than the vapour pressure of the pure solvent. Hence if
two vessels, one filled with solvent and one with solution, be
placed side by side in an exhausted chamber, vapour will evapo-
rate from the solvent and condense on the solution. The solution
will thus gain solvent, and will grow more and more dilute.
Its volume will also increase, and thus its upper surface will rise
in the vessel. But as we ascend in an atmosphere the pressure
diminishes; hence the pressure of the vapour in the chamber is
less the higher we go, and thus eventually we reach a state of
equilibrium where the column of vapour is in equilibrium at the
appropriate level both with solvent and solution. Neglecting
the very small buoyancy of the vapour, the hydrostatic pressure
P at the foot of the column of solution is h g p where h is the height
of the column and p the mean density of the solution. If the
height be not too great, we may assume the density of the vapour
to be uniform, and write the difference in vapour pressure at the
surfaces of the solvent and of the solution as p—p'=hgi
to osmotic relations. Here n is the number of gramme-molecules
of solute, T the absolute temperature, R the gas constant with its
usual " gas " value, p the vapour pressure of the solvent and DI
the volume in which one gramme-molecule of the vapour is confined.
In the vapour pressure equation f — p' = P-£') = R* log (plP')-b(p-p').
For most experimental purposes the small terms involving the
factor (p—p') may be neglected, and we have, approximately,
P0V' = Rnog (pip').
From this equation the osmotic pressure Po required to keep
a solution in equilibrium as regards its vapour and through a
SOLUTION
375
semi-permeable membrane with its solvent, when that solvent is
under its own vapour pressure, may be calculated from the results of
observations on vapour pressure of solvent and solution at ordinary
low hydrostatic pressures. The chief difficulty lies in the deter-
mination of the quantity V, the change in volume of the solution
under the pressure Po when unit mass of solvent is mixed .with it.
This determination involves a knowledge of the density and of
the compressibility of the solution; the latter property is difficult
to measure accurately.
In some solutions such as those of sugar the change in volume
on dilution is nearly equal to the volume of solvent added ; V then
becomes equal to V, the specific volume of the solvent. The osmotic
pressures of strong sugar solutions were measured successfully by
a direct method with semi-permeable membranes of copper ferro-
cyanide by Lord Berkeley and E. G. J. Hartley, who also determined
the vapour pressures by passing a current of air successively through
weighed vessels containing solution and water respectively.
Their table of comparison published in 1906 shows the following
agreement :•
Concentration in
grammes per litre of
solution.
Osmotic pressure at o° C.
in atmospheres.
From vapour
pressures.
From direct
measurement.
420
54°
660
750
44-3 (at 12-6°)
69-4
101-9
136-0
43-97
67-5I
100-78
133-74
It seems likely that measurements of vapour pressure and com-
pressibility may eventually enable us to determine accurately osmotic
pressures in cases where direct measurement is impossible.
The slope of the temperature vapour pressure curves in the
neighbourhood of the freezing point of the solvent is given by
Freezing the latest heat equation. The difference in the two
Po/nt— slopes for water and ice is dp/dT — dp' ' jd T=L/T»,
Solutions. where L, the latent heat of fusion, is the difference
between the heats of evaporation for ice and water, and v is
the specific volume of the vapour.
The difference in the lowering of vapour pressures dp— dp'
may be put equal to VdP/v, where P is the osmotic pressure, and V
the specific volume of the solvent. We then get VdP = LdT/T.
In order to integrate this expression we need to know L and v
as functions of the temperature and pressure. The latent heat L
at any temperature is given by L = L0— L (s-s')dT, where L0
is value at To and s— s' is the difference in the specific heats of
water and ice. The probable error in neglecting any variation
of specific heat is small, and we may calculate L from the values
of Lo-(s-s') (To-T), where s — s' is about 0-5 calories. The
variation of L with pressure is probably small.
The volume of a gramme of water also depends on temperature
and pressure. Approximately one degree lowering of freezing
point corresponds with a change of 12 atmospheres in the osmotic
pressure. From the known coefficients of compressibility and
thermal expansion we find that V may be represented by the linear
equation V= i-ooo+o-oooS A, where A is the lowering of the
freezing point below o°.
Putting in these values and integrating we have, neglecting terms
involving A3, P= 12-06 A— 0-021 A* where P is the osmotic
pressure in atmospheres.
H. W. Morse and J. C. W. Frazer, who have made direct measure-
ments of osmotic pressure of solution of cane-sugar, have also
measured the freezing points of corresponding solutions. From these
results the equation just given has been examined by G. N. Lewis.
Concentration in
gramme- molecules
per litre of water.
Depression of
the freezing
point = A.
Osmotic pressure.
Calculated
from A.
Observed.
O-I
o-5
I-O
0-195
0-985
2-07
2-35
n-8
24-9
2-44
n-8
24-8
Thus the theory of the connexion of osmotic pressure with freezing
point (like that with vapour pressure) seems to give results which
accord with experiments.
At the limit of dilution, when the concentration of a solution
approaches zero, we have seen that thermodynamical theory,
verified by experiment, shows that the osmotic
Prepare. Pressure has the same value as the Sas Pressure of
the same number of molecules in the same space.
Gases at high pressures fail to conform to Boyle's law, and solu-
tions at moderate concentrations give osmotic pressures which
increase faster than the concentration. The variation of gases
from Boyle's law is represented in the equation of Van der
Waals by subtracting a constant b from the total volume to
represent the effect of the volume of the molecules themselves.
The corresponding correction in solutions consists in counting
only the volume of the solvent in which the solute is dissolved,
instead of the whole volume of the solution.
140
•120
too
Molecules pe^ 100 mpl? of water
20
FIG. 15.
In fig. 15 the curve I represents Boyle's law if the volume is
taken to be that of the solution, and the curve II if the volume
is that of the solvent. Even this correction is not sufficient in
solution of sugar, where the theoretical curve II lies below the
experimental observations. A further correction may be made by
adding more empirical terms to the' equation, but a more promising
idea, due to J. H. Poynting and H. L. Callendar is to trace the
effect of possible combination of molecules of solute with
molecules of the solvent. These combined solvent molecules are
thus removed from existence as solvent, the effective volume of
which is reduced to that of the remaining free molecules of solvent.
The greater the number of water molecules attached to one sugar
molecule, the less the residual volume, and the greater the theor-
etical pressure. Callendar finds that five molecules of water in
the case of cane-sugar or two molecules in the case of dextrose are
required to bring the curves into conformity with the observations
of Berkeley and Hartley, which in fig. 15 are indicated by crosses.
Solubility and Heat of Solution. — The conceptions of osmotic
pressure and ideal semi-permeable membranes enable us to
deduce other thermodynamic relations between the different
properties of solutions. As an example, let us take the following
investigation: —
An engine cylinder may be imagined to possess a semi-permeable
bottom and to work without friction. If it be filled with a solution
and the bottom immersed in
the pure solvent, pressure equal
to the osmotic pressure must
be exerted on the piston to
maintain equilibrium. Such
a system is in the thermo-
dynamic equilibrium. The
slightest change in the load
will cause motion in one direc-
tion or the other — the system
is thermodynamically reversi-
ble. Such an arrangement
may be put through a cycle
of operations as in Carnot's
engine (see THERMODYNAMICS)
and all the laws of reversible
engines applied to it. If the
solution in the cylinder be
kept saturated by the presence
of crystals of the solute,
enters, and the solution remains
an imaginary cycle of
FIG. 16.
crystals will dissolve as solvent
saturated throughout. By
operations we may then justify the
application to solutions of the latent heat equation which we
have already assumed as applicable. In the equation dP/dT =
X/T(n»— *i), P is the osmotic pressure, T the absolute tempera-
ture and X the heat of solution of unit mass of the solute
when dissolving to form a volume lit— vi of saturated solution
in an osmotic cylinder. This process involves the performance of
SOLUTION
an amount of osmotic work P(zi2 — vi). If the heat of solution be
measured in a calorimeter, no work is done, so that, if we call this
calorimetric heat of solution L, the two quantities are connected
by the relation L = X+P(t>2— i>i). If L is zero or negligible,
X=-P(f2-fi) and we have dP/dT=-P/T or dP/P=-dT/T,
which on integration gives log P = log T+C, or P = kT, i.e. the
osmotic pressure is proportional to the absolute temperature. This
result must hold good for any solution, but if the solution be dilute
when saturated, that is, if the solubility be small, the equation
shows that if there be no heat effect when solid dissolves to form a
saturated solution, the solubility is independent of temperature,
for, in accordance with the gas laws, the osmotic pressure of a dilute
solution of constant concentration is proportional to the absolute
temperature. It follows that if the thermodynamic heat of solution
be positive, that is, if heat be absorbed to keep the system at constant
temperature, the solubility will increase with rising temperature,
while if heat be evolved on dissolution, the solubility falls when the
system is heated.
_ In all this investigation it should be noted that the heat of solu-
tion with which we are concerned is the heat effect when solid
dissolves to form a saturated solution. It is not the heat effect
when solid is dissolved in a large excess of solvent, and may differ
so much from that effect as to have an opposite sign. Thus cupric
chloride dissolves in much water with an evolution of heat, but
when the solution is nearly saturated, it is cooled by taking up more
of the solid.
In a very dilute solution no appreciable heat is evolved or
absorbed when solvent is added, but such heat effects are
Osmotic generally found with more concentrated solutions.
Pressure The result is to change the relation between tempera-
and Tern- ture ancj (-ne osmotic pressure of a solution of constant
"*' concentration, a relation which, in very dilute
solutions, is a direct proportionality.
The equation of available energy (see ENERGETICS) A = U+
TdA/dT may be applied to this problem. The available energy A
is the work which may be gained from the system by a small rever-
sible isothermal operation with an osmotic cylinder, that is Pdv.
If I is the heat of dilution per unit change of volume in a calorimeter
where all the energy goes to heat, the change in internal energy U
is measured by Idv. We then have
Neglecting the volume change with temperature this gives
P=/+T(iP/.). In March 1544 he was made lieu-
tenant-general of the north and instructed to punish the Scots
for their repudiation of the treaty of marriage between Prince
Edward and the infant Mary Queen of Scots. He landed at
Leith in May, captured and pillaged Edinburgh, and returned a
month later. In July he was appointed lieutenant of the realm
under the queen regent during Henry's absence at Boulogne, but
in August he joined the king and was present at the surrender
of the town. In the autumn he was one of the commissioners
sent to Flanders to keep Charles V. to the terms of his treaty with
England, and in January 1545 he was placed in command at
Boulogne, where on the 26th he brilliantly repelled an attempt
of Marshal de Biez to recapture the town. In May he was once
more appointed lieutenant-general in the north to avenge the
Scottish victory at Ancrum Moor; this he did by a savage foray
SOMERSET, EARLS AND DUKES OF
387
into Scotland in September. In March 1546 he was sent back
to Boulogne to supersede Surrey, whose command had not been
a success; and in June he was engaged in negotiations for peace
with France and for the delimitation of the English conquests.
From October to the end of Henry's reign he was in attendance
on the king, engaged in that unrecorded struggle for predomi-
nance which was to determine the complexion of the government
during the coming minority. Personal, political and religious
rivalry separated him and Lisle from the Howards, and Surrey's
hasty temper precipitated his own and his father's ruin. They
could not acquiesce in the Imperial ambassador's verdict that
Hertford and Lisle were the only noblemen of fit age and capacity
to carry on the government; and Surrey's attempt to secure the
predominance of his family led to his own execution and to his
father's imprisonment in the Tower.
Their overthrow had barely been accomplished when Henry
VIII. died on the 28th of January 1547. Preparations had
already been made for a further advance in the ecclesiastical
reformation and for a renewal of the design upon Scotland; and
the new government to some extent proceeded on the lines which
Chapuys anticipated that Henry VIII. would have followed had
he lived. He had no statutory power to appoint a protector,
but in the council of regency which he nominated Hertford and
Lisle enjoyed a decisive preponderance; and the council at its
first meeting after Henry's death determined to follow precedent
and appoint a protector. Hertford was their only possible choice;
he represented the predominant party, he was Edward VI. 's
nearest relative, he was senior to Lisle in the peerage and
superior to him in experience. Seven weeks later, however, after
Lord-Chancellor Wriothesley, the leading Catholic, had been de-
prived of office Hertford, who had been made duke of Somerset,
succeeded in emancipating himself from the trammels originally
imposed on him as protector; and he became king in everything
but name and prestige.
His ideas were in striking contrast with those of most Tudor
statesmen, and he used his authority to divest the government
of that apparatus of absolutism which Thomas Cromwell had
perfected. He had generous popular sympathies and was by
nature averse from coercion. " What is the matter, then ? "
wrote Paget in the midst of the commotions of 1549, " By my
faith, sir, . . . liberty, liberty. And your grace would have too
much gentleness." In his first parliament, which met in
November 1547, he procured the repeal of all the heresy laws and
nearly all the treason laws passed since Edward III. Even with
regard to Scotland he had protested against his instructions of
1544, and now ignored the claim to suzerainty which Henry VIII.
had revived, seeking to win over the Scots by those promises
of autonomy, free trade, and equal privileges with England,
which many years later eventually reconciled them to union.
But the Scots were not thus to be won in 1547: " What would you
say," asked one, " if your lad were a lass, and our lass were a
lad?" and Scottish sentiment backed by Roman Catholic
influence and by French intrigues, money and men, proved too
strong for Somerset's amiable invitations. The Scots turned
a deaf ear to his persuasions; the protector led another army into
Scotland in September 1547, and won the battle of Pinkie
(Sept. 10). He trusted to the garrisons he established throughout
the Lowlands to wear down Scottish opposition; but their
pressure was soon weakened by troubles in England and abroad,
and Mary was transported to France to wed Francis II. in
1557-
Somerset apparently thought that the religious question
could be settled by public discussion, and throughout 1547 and
1 548 England went as it pleased so far as church services were
concerned; all sorts of experiments were tried, and the country
was involved in a grand theological debate, in which Protestant
refugees from abroad hastened to join. The result convinced
the protector that the government must prescribe one uniform
order which all should be persuaded or constrained to obey;
but the first Book of Common Prayer, which was imposed by
the first Act of Uniformity in 1549, was a studious compromise
between the new and the old learning, very different from the
aggressive Protestantism of the second hook imposed after
Somerset had been removed, in 1552. The Catholic risings in
the west in 1549 added to Somerset's difficulties, but were not
the cause of his fall. The factious and treasonable conduct of
his brother, the lord high admiral, in whose execution (March
20, 1549) the protector weakly acquiesced, also impaired his
authority; but the main cause of his ruin was the divergence
between him and the majority of the council over the questions
of constitutional liberty and enclosures of the commons. The
majority scouted Somerset's notions of liberty and deeply
resented his championship of the poor against greedy landlords
and capitalists. His efforts to check enclosures by means of
parliamentary legislation, royal proclamations, and commissions
of inquiry were openly resisted or secretly foiled, and the
popular revolts which their failure provoked cut the ground
from Somerset's feet. He was divided in mind between his
sympathy with the rebels and his duty to maintain law and
order. France, which was bent on ruining the protector's
schemes in Scotland and on recovering Boulogne, seized the
opportunity to declare war on August the 8th; and the outlying
forts in the Boulonnais fell into their hands, while the Scots
captured Haddington.
These misfortunes gave a handle to Somerset's enemies.
Warwick combined on the same temporary platform Catholics
who resented the Book of Common Prayer, Protestants who
thought Somerset's mildness paltering with God's truth, and the
wealthy classes as a whole. In September he concerted measures
with the ex-lord-chancellor Wriothesley; and in October, after
a vain effort to rouse the masses in his favour, Somerset was
deprived of the protectorate and sent to the Tower. But the
hostile coalition broke up as soon as it had to frame a construc-
tive policy; Warwick jockeyed the Catholics out of the council
and prepared to advance along Protestant lines. He could
hardly combine proscription of the Catholics with that of Somer-
set, and the duke was released in February 1550. For a time
the rivals seemed to agree, and Warwick's son married Somerset's
daughter. But growing discontent with Warwick made Somer-
set too dangerous. In October 1551, after Warwick had been
created duke of Northumberland, Somerset was sent to the Tower
on an exaggerated charge of treason, which broke down at his
trial. He was, however, as a sort of compromise, condemned
on a charge of felony for having sought to effect a change of
government. Few expected that the sentence would be carried
out, and apparently Northumberland found it necessary to
forge an instruction from Edward VI. to that effect. Somerset
was executed on the 22nd of January 1552, dying with exemplary
patience and fortitude. His eldest son by his second wife was
re-created earl of Hertford by Elizabeth, and his great-grandson
William was restored as 2nd duke of Somerset in 1660. His
children by his first wife had been disinherited owing to the
jealousy of his second; but their descendants came into the titles
and property when the younger line died out in 1750.
See A. F. Pollard's England Under Protector Somerset (1900; full
bibliography, pp. 327-330), also his article in Diet. Nat. Biog. and
vol. vi. of Political History of England (1910). (A. F. P.)
SOMERSET, ROBERT CARR (or KER), EARL OF (c. 1590-1645),
Scottish politician, the date of whose birth is unrecorded, was a
younger son of Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehurst by his second wife,
Janet, sister of Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch. He accompanied
James I. as page to England, but being then discharged from the
royal service, sought for a time to make his fortune in France.
Returning to England he happened to break his arm at a tilting
match, at which James was present, and was recognized by the
king. Entirely devoid of all high intellectual qualities, Carr was
endowed with good looks, excellent spirits, and considerable
personal accomplishments. These advantages were sufficient
for James, who knighted the young man and at once took him
into favour. In 1607 an opportunity enabled the king to confer
upon him a more substantial mark of his affection. Sir W.
Raleigh had through his attainder forfeited his life-interest in
the manor of Sherborne, but he had previously executed a con-
veyance by which the property was to pass on his death to his
388
SOMERSET, LORD R. E. H.— SOMERSETSHIRE
eldest son. This document was, unfortunately, rendered worth-
less by a flaw which gave the king eventual possession of the
property. Acting on Salisbury's suggestion, James resolved to
confer the manor on Carr. The case was argued at law, and
judgment was in 1609 given for the Crown. Lady Raleigh
received some compensation, apparently inadequate, and Carr
at once entered on possession. His influence was already such
that in 1610 he persuaded the king to dissolve the parliament,
which had shown signs of attacking the Scottish favourites.
On the 25th of March 1611 he was created Viscount Rochester,
and subsequently a privy councillor, while on Lord Salisbury's
death in 1612 he began to act as the king's secretary. On the
3rd of November 1613 he was advanced to the earldom of Somer-
set, on the 23rd of December was appointed treasurer of Scotland,
and in 1614 lord chamberlain. He supported the earl of North-
ampton and the Spanish party in opposition to the old tried
advisers of the king, such as Lord-Chancellor Ellesmere, who were
endeavouring to maintain the union with the Protestants abroad,
and who now in 1614 pushed forward another candidate for the
king's favour. Somerset, whose head was turned by the sudden
rise to power and influence, became jealous and peevish, and
feeling his position insecure, obtained in 1615 from the king a full
pardon, to which, however, the chancellor refused to put the
Great Seal. He still, however, retained the king's favour, and
might possibly have remained in power for some time longer
but for the discovery of the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury.
Before 1609, while still only Sir Robert Carr, Somerset had
begun an intrigue with Lady Essex. Supported by the king,
the latter obtained a decree of nullity of marriage against Lord
Essex in September 1613, and in December she married the earl
of Somerset. Ten days before the court gave judgment, Sir
Thomas Overbury, who apparently knew facts concerning Lady
Essex which would have been fatal to her success, and had been
imprisoned in the Tower, was poisoned. No idea seems to have
been entertained at the time that Lady Essex and her future
husband were implicated. The crime, however, was not dis-
closed till September 1615. Coke and Bacon were set to unravel
the plot. After four of the principal agents had been convicted
and punished, the earl and countess were brought to trial. The
latter confessed, and of her guilt there can be no doubt. Somer-
set's share is far more difficult to discover, and probably will
never be fully known. The evidence against him rested on mere
presumption, and he consistently declared himself innocent.
Probabilities are on the whole in favour of the hypothesis that he
was not more than an accessory after the fact. James, who had
been threatened by Somerset with damaging disclosures, let
matters take their course, and both earl and countess were found
guilty. The sentence was not carried into effect against either
culprit. The countess was pardoned immediately, but both
remained in the Tower till January 1622. The earl appears to
have refused to buy forgiveness by concessions, and it was not
till 1624 that he obtained his pardon. He only once more
emerged into public view when in 1630 he was prosecuted in the
Star Chamber for communicating a paper of Sir Robert Dudley's
to the earl of Clare, recommending the establishment of arbitrary
government. He died in July 1645, leaving one daughter,
Anne, the sole issue of his ill-fated marriage, afterwards wife of
the ist duke of Bedford.
See the article by S. R. Gardiner in Diet. Nat. Biog., with authori-
ties there cited, and the same author's History of England; State
Trials II. ; Life and Letters of Bacon, ed. by Spedding; Studies in Eng.
Hist., by Gairdner and Spedding.
SOMERSET, LORD ROBERT EDWARD HENRY (1776-1842),
British soldier, was the third son of the 5th duke of Beaufort,
and elder brother of Lord Raglan. Joining the isth Light
Dragoons in 1793, he became captain in the following year, and
received a majority after serving as aide-de-camp to the duke of
York in the Dutch expedition of 1799. At the end of 1800 he
became a lieutenant-colonel, and in 1801 received the command
of the 4th Light Dragoons. From 1799 to 1802 he represented
the Monmouth boroughs in the House of Commons, and from
1803 to 1823 sat for Gloucestershire. He commanded his
regiment at the battles of Talavera and Busaco, and in 1810
received a colonelcy and the appointment of A.D.C. to the king.
In 1811, along with the 3rd Dragoon Guards, the 4th Light
Dragoons fought a notable cavalry action at Usagre, and in
1812 Lord Edward Somerset was engaged in the great charge of
Le Marchant's heavy cavalry at Salamanca. His conduct on
this occasion (he captured five guns at the head of a single
squadron) won him further promotion, and he made the remain-
ing campaigns as a major-general at the head of the Hussar
brigade (7th, loth and isth Hussars). At Orthes he won further
distinction by his pursuit of the enemy; he was made K.C.B.,
and received the thanks of parliament. At Waterloo he was in
command of the Household Cavalry Brigade, which distinguished
itself not less by its stern and patient endurance of the enemy's
fire than by its celebrated charge on the cuirassiers of Milhaud's
corps. The brigadier was particularly mentioned in Wellington's
despatches, and received the thanks of parliament as well as the
Maria Theresa and other much-prized foreign orders. He died
a general and G.C.B. in 1842.
SOMERSETSHIRE, a south-western county of England,
bounded N. and N.W. by the Bristol Channel, N. and N.E. by
Gloucestershire, N.E. and E. by Wiltshire, S.E. by Dorsetshire,
S.W. and W. by Devonshire. The area is 1630-3 sq. m. In
shape the county resembles an ill-drawn crescent, curving inward
where Bridgwater Bay bends south-west and broader at its
eastern than at its western horn. It falls into three natural
divisions, being in fact a broad alluvial plain bordered by two
hill-regions. The Mendip range, breaking off from the high
ground near Wiltshire, extends north-west towards the channel,
where it ends with Brean Down; while the island of Steep Holm
stands as an outpost between the heights of Somerset and
Glamorgan. The summit of the Mendips is a long table-land,
reaching an extreme height, towards the western end, of 1068 ft.
in Black Down, sloping away gently towards the lower hills of
the north, but rising on the south in an abrupt line, broken by
many coombes or glens; the most striking of which are the cliffs
of Ebbor Rocks, near Wells, and the gorge of Cheddar (q.v.),
which winds for nearly a mile between huge and fantastic rocks.
South of the Mendips lies a broad plain watered by the Parrett
and the Brue, and known generally as Sedgemoor, but with
different names in different parts. This plain, intersected by
ditches known as. rhines, and in some parts rich in peat, is broken
by isolated hills and lower ridges, of which the most conspicuous
are Brent Knoll near Burnham, the Isle of Avalon, rising with
Glastonbury Tor as its highest point, and the long low ridge of
Polden ending to the west in a steep bluff. West of Sedgemoor
the second great region of hills extends from Devonshire to the
sea. It consists of the Black Down, Brendon and Quantock
hills, with Exmoor Forest (q.v.) in the extreme west. This
entire district is famous for the grandeur of its bare and desolate
moors, and the bold outlines and height of its mountains; the
chief of which are Dunkery, in Exmoor (1707 ft.); Lype Hill, the
westernmost point of the Brendon range (1391 ft.); and Will's
Neck, among the Quantocks (1261 ft.). The two principal rivers
of Somerset are the Avon and the Parrett. The Avon, after
forming for a short distance the boundary with Wiltshire, crosses
the north-eastern corner of the county, encircling Bath, and
forms the boundary with Gloucestershire till it reaches the sea
6 m. beyond Bristol. It is navigable for barges as far as Bath.
The Parrett from South Perrott in Dorset, on the borders of
Somerset, crosses the centre of the county north-westwards by
Bridgwater, receiving the Yeo and Gary on the right, and the
Isle and Tone on the left. Among other streams are the Axe,
which rises at Wookey Hole in the Mendips and flows north-
westward along their base to the Bristol Channel near Blackrock;
the Brue, which rises to the east of Bruton, near the borders
of Wiltshire, and enters the Bristol Channel near the mouth of
the Parrett; and the Exe (with its tributary the Barle), which
rises in Exmoor forest and passes southward into Devon. Some
of the Somersetshire streams, especially the Exe and Barle, are
in high favour with trout fishermen. Weston-super-Mare is a
flourishing seaside resort, and Minehead and other coast villages
are also frequented.
SOMERSETSHIRE
389
Geology. — The oldest formation in the county is the Devonian,
which extends eastwards from Devonshire across Exmoor to the
Brendon and Quantock hills, and consists of sandstones, slates
and limestones of marine origin. The Old Red Sandstone, the
supposed estuarine or lacustrine equivalent of the Devonian, is a
series of red sandstones, marls and conglomerates, which rise as
an anticline in the Mendips (where they contain volcanic rocks), and
also appear in the Avon gorge and at Portishead. The Carbon-
iferous Limestone, of marine origin, is well displayed in the Mendip
country (Cheddar Cliffs, &c.) and in the Avon gorge; at Weston-
super-Mare it contains volcanic rocks. The Coal Measures of the
Radstock district (largely concealed by Trias and newer rocks)
consist of two series of coal-bearing sandstones and shales separated
by the Pennant Sandstone; locally the beds have been intensely
folded and faulted, as at Vobster. Indeed, all the formations
hitherto mentioned were folded into anticlines and synclines before
the deposition of the Triassic rocks. These consist of red marls,
sandstones, breccias and conglomerates, which spread irregularly
over the edges of the older rocks; the so-called Dolomitic Con-
glomerate is an old shingle-beach of Triassic (Keuper Marl) age.
The Rhaetic beds are full of fossils and mark the first invasion of
the district by the waters of the Jurassic sea. The Lias consists of
clays and limestones; the latter are quarried and are famous for their
ammonites and reptilian remains. Above the Lias comes the Lower
or Bath Oolite Series (Inferior Oolite group. Fuller's Earth and
Great Oolite group), chiefly clays and politic limestone; the famous
Bath Stone is got from the Great Oolite. The Oxford Clay is the
chief member of the Middle or Oxford Oolite Series. Above these
follow the Upper Cretaceous rocks, including the Gault, Upper
Greensand and Chalk, which extend into the county from Wiltshire
near Frome and from Dorset near Chard. There are apparently
no true glacial deposits. Low-lying alluvial flats and peat-bogs
occupy much of the surface west of Glastonbury. Caves in the
Carboniferous Limestone (e.g. Wookey Hole, near Wells) have
yielded Pleistocene mammalia and palaeolithic implements. The
thermal waters of Bath (120° F.) are rich in calcium and sodium
sulphates, &c. The chief minerals are coal, freestone and limestone,
and ores of lead, zinc and iron.
Agriculture. — The climate partakes of the mildness of the south-
western counties generally. A high proportion, exceeding four-
fifths of the total area of the county, is under cultivation. In a
county where cattle-feeding and dairy-farming are the principal
branches of husbandry, a very large area is naturally devoted to
pasture; and there are large tracts of rich meadow land along the
rivers, where many of the Devonshire farmers place their herds to
graze. Floods, however, are common, and the Somerset Drainage
Act was passed by parliament on the nth of June 1877, providing
for the appointment of commissioners to take measures for the
drainage of lands in the valleys of the Parrett, Isle, Yeo, Brue, Axe,
Gary and Tone. Cheese is made in various parts, notably the famous
Cheddar Cheese, which is made in the farms lying south of the
Mendips. Sheep-farming is practised both in the lowlands and on
hill pastures, Leicesters and Southdowns being the favourite breeds.
In the Vale of Taunton heavy crops of wheat ar* raised; this grain,
barley and oats being raised on about equal areas. Turnips,
swedes and mangolds occupy most of the area under green crops.
Somerset ranks after Devon and Hereford in the extent of its apple
orchards, and the cider made from these apples forms the common
drink of the peasantry, besides being largely exported. Wild deer
are still found on Exmoor, where there is a peculiar breed of ponies,
hardy and small. The Bristol Channel and Bridgwater Bay abound
in white- and shell-fish; salmon and herring are also caught, the
principal fishing stations being Porlock, Minehead and Watchet.
Other Indiistries. — Coal, from the Mendips, and freestone, largely
quarried near Bath, are the chief mineral products of Somerset,
although brown ironstone, zinc, limestone and small quantities of
slate, gravel, sand, sulphate of strontia, gypsum, ochre. Fuller's earth,
marl, cement, copper and manganese are also found. Lead mining
is carried on near Wellington, and lead washing in the Mendips; but
these industries, like the working of spathose iron ore among the
Brendon hills, are on the wane. The chief manufactures are those
of woollen and worsted goods, made in a large number of towns;
silk made at Frome, Taunton and Shepton Mallet; gloves at Yeovil,
Stoke, Martock and Taunton; lace at Chard; linen and sailcloth at
Crewkerne ; horsehair goods at Bruton, Castle Gary and Crewkerne ;
crape at Dulverton and Shepton Mallet. Tobacco, snuff and spirits
are also manufactured ; and there are large potteries at Bridgwater,
where the celebrated bath-brick is made, and at Weston-super-
Mare; carriage works at Bath and Bridgwater; engineering and
machine-works also at Bridgwater. On the Avon, copper and iron
are smelted, while several other rivers provide power for cotton,
worsted and paper mills. The bulk of the export trade passes
through Bristol, which is situated mainly in Gloucestershire, though
it has large docks on the Somerset side of the Avon, and others at
Portishead.
Communication. — Somerset is well furnished with railways.
The Great Western runs between Frome, Radstock, Bath and
Bristol, and from Bristol it curves south-west through Weston and
Bridgwater to Taunton, dividing there and passing on into Devon.
Branches leave the main line for Portishead, Clevedon and Minehead
on the north, and for Witham Friary via Wells, Yeovil via Langport,
and Chard via Ilminster on the south. The South-Western main
line from London passes through the south-west of Somerset,
running from Templecombe to Axminster in Devon, a'nd the Somer-
set and Dorset runs from Bath to Shepton Mallet via Radstock.
The Kennet and Avon Canal flows from Bradford in Wiltshire to
Bath, and there joins the Avon, meeting on its way the two branches
of the Somersetshire Coal Canal which flow from Paulton and
Radstock. The Taunton and Bridgwater Canal flows into the
River Parrett.
Population and Administration. — The area of the ancient
county is 1,043,409 acres, with a population in 1891 of 484,337,
and in 1901 of 508,256. The area of the administrative county
is 1,037,484 acres. The county contains 40 hundreds and two
liberties. The municipal boroughs are — Bath, a city and county
borough (pop. 49,839), Bridgwater (15,209), Chard (4437),
Glastonbury (4016), Taunton (21,087), Wells, a city (4849),
Yeovil (9861). The urban districts are— Burnham (2897),
Clevedon (5900), Crewkerne (4226), Frome (11,057), Highbridge
(2233), Ilminster (2287), Midsomer Norton (5809), Minehead
(2511), Portishead (2544), Radstock (3355), Shepton Mallet
(5238), Street (4018), Watchet (1880), Wellington (7283), Weston-
super-Mare (19,845), Wiveliscombe (1417). Among other towns
may be mentioned Bruton (1788), Castle Gary (1902), Cheddar
(1975), Keynsham (3512) and Wincanton (1892). The county is
in the western circuit, and assizes are held at Taunton and Wells.
It has one court of quarter sessions, and is divided into 22 petty
sessional divisions. The boroughs of Bath and Bridgwater have
separate courts of quarter sessions and commissions of the peace,
and those of Taunton, Wells and Yeovil have separate commis-
sions of the peace. The total number of civil parishes is 485.
Somerset is in the diocese of Bath and Wells, excepting small
parts in the dioceses of Bristol and Salisbury; it contains 508
ecclesiastical parishes or districts, wholly or in part. There are
seven parliamentary divisions — Northern, Wells, Frome, Eastern,
Southern, Bridgwater and Western or Wellington, each return-
ing one member; while the parliamentary borough of Bath
returns two members, and that of Taunton one member; and
the county includes the greater part of the southern division of
the parliamentary borough of Bristol.
History. — In the 6th century Somerset was the debatable
borderland between the Welsh and Saxons, the latter of whom
pushed their way slowly westward, fighting battles yearly and
raising fortifications at important points to secure their conquered
lands. Their frontier was gradually advanced from the Axe to
the Parrett, and from the Parrett to the Tamar, Taunton being
a border fort at one stage and Exeter at another. By 658
Somerset had been conquered by the West Saxons as far as the
Parrett, and there followed a struggle between the kingdoms of
Wessex and Mercia, decided by a great victory of Ine in 710,
which led to the organization of the lands east of the Parrett as
part of the kingdom of Wessex. There were still occasional
inroads by the Welsh, Taunton Castle being captured in 721, but
from the 8th century the West Saxon kings were rulers of what
is now known as Somersetshire. About this time the bishopric
of Wells was founded, and the monastery of Glastonbury restored
by Ine. The next hundred and fifty years were the period of
Danish invasions. Egbert, king of Wessex, became Bretwalda
or overlord of all England in 827, and under him Wessex with
the other frontier kingdoms was organized for defence against
the Danes, and later the assessment of danegeld led to the sub-
division of Wessex for financial and military purposes, which
crystallized into the divisions of hundreds and tithings, probably
with the system of assessment by hidation. King Alfred's vic-
tory in 878, followed by the Peace of Wedmore, ended the incur-
sions of the Danes for a time, but a hundred years later they
were again a great danger, and made frequent raids on the west
coast of Somerset. At some time before the Conquest, at a date
usually given as 1016, though evidence points to a much earlier
and more gradual establishment, England was divided into shires,
one of which was Somerset, and tradition gives the name of the
first earl as Hun, who was followed by Earnulf and Sweyn, son of
Godwin. There has been curiously little variation in the territory
390
SOMERSETSHIRE
included in the county, from the date of the Gheld Inquest
in 1084 to the second half of the igth century, when certain
minor alterations were ma'de in the county boundary. These
have been practically the only changes in the county boundary
for 900 years, if we except the exclusion of Bristol from the county
jurisdiction in 1373.
At the Conquest Somerset was divided into about 700 fiefs
held almost entirely by the Normans. The king's lands in
Somerset were of great extent and importance, and consisted in
addition to the ancient demesne of the Crown of the lands of
Godwin and Earl Harold and the estates of Queen Edith who died
in 1074. The bishop of Winchester owned a vast property of
which Taunton was the centre, and about one-tenth of the county
was included in the estates of the bishop of Coutances, which were
akin to a lay barony and did not descend as a whole at the
bishop's death. The churches of Glastonbury, Athelney and
Muchelney still owned vast lands, but Norman spoliation had
deprived them of much that they had held before the Conquest.
Among the great lay tenants who divided the conquered lands
were the count of Mortain (the Conqueror's half-brother), Roger
de Corcelles, Walter de Douai, Roger Arundel and William de
Mohun. About this time or a little later many Norman castles
were built, some of which have survived. The castles at
Richmont (near West Harptree), Nunney, Farleigh, Bridgwater,
Stoke Courcy, Taunton and Dunster were probably the most
important. Somerset was very rich in boroughs at the time of
Domesday, which points to a considerable development of trade
before the Conquest; Bath, Taunton, Ilchester, Frome, Milborne
Port, Bruton, Langport and Axbridge were all boroughs in 1087,
and there was the nucleus of a borough at Yeovil. Somerton,
Ilchester and Taunton were successively the meeting-places
of the shire court. There were joint sheriffs for Somerset and
Dorset until 1566 when a separate sheriff for each county was
appointed. In the 7th century Somerset, as part of the kingdom
of Wessex, was included in the diocese of Winchester. The new
bishopric of Sherborne, founded in 704, contained Somerset until
QIO when the see was divided into the dioceses of Salisbury,
Exeter and Wells, the latter including the whole county of
Somerset. The diocese was divided into three archdeaconries,
Bath with two deaneries, Wells with seven and Taunton with four.
Disputes between the chapters of Bath and Wells as to the
election of the bishop led to a compromise in 1245, the election
being by the chapters jointly, and the see being known as the
bishopric of Bath and Wells. There has always been a strongly
marked division of the county into East and West Somerset, a
relic of the struggles between the Welsh and Saxons, which was
recognized for parliamentary purposes by the act of 1 83 2 . Somer-
set contained 37 hundreds in 1087, and now contains 41. There
have been considerable modifications of these hundredal divi-
sions by aggregation or subdivision, but since the 1 5th century
there has been little change. The meeting-place of the hundred
courts was at the village or town which gave its name to the
hundred in the cases of Bruton, Cannington, Carhampton, Chew,
Chewton, Crewkerne, Frome, Glaston Twelve Hides, Huntspili,
Kilmersdon, Kingsbury East, Milverton, North Curry, North
Petherton, Norton Ferris, Pitney, Portbury, Somerton, South
Petherton, Taunton, Tintinhull, Wellow, Wells Forum and
Winterstoke. The hundred of Abdick and Bulstone met at
Ilford Bridges in Stocklinch Magdalen, Andersfield hundred
court was held at the hamlet of Andersfield in the parish
of Goathurst, Bath Forum hundred met at Wedcombe, Bemp-
stone at a huge stone in the parish of Allerton, Brent and
Wrington at South Brent, Catsash at an ash tree on the road
between Castle Gary and Yeovil, Hartcliffe and Bedminster
at a lofty cliff between the parishes of Barrow Gurnes and
Winford, Horethorne or Horethorne Down near Milborne Port,
Whitstone at a hill of the same name near Shepton Mallet,
Williton and Freemanors in the village of Williton in the parish
of St Decumans, and Whitley at Whitley Wood in Walton
parish. In the case of Kingsbury the meeting-place of the
hundred is not known. The great liberties of the county were
Cranmore, Wells and Leigh, which belonged to the abbey of
Glastonbury; Easton and Amrill and Hampton and Claverton,
which were the liberties of the abbey of Bath; Hinton and
Norton, which belonged to the Carthusian priory of Hinton;
Witham Priory, a liberty of the house of that name ; and Williton
Freemanor, which belonged for a time to the Knights Templars.
The chief families of the county in the middle ages were those
of De Mohun, Malet, Revel, De Courcy, Montacute, Beauchamp
and Beaufort, which bore the titles of earls or dukes of Somerset
from 1396 to 1472. Edward Seymour was made duke of
Somerset in 1547, and in 1660 the title was restored to the
Seymour family, by whom it is still held. The marquess of
Bath is the representative of the Thynne family, which has long
been settled in the county, and the predecessors of the earl of <
Lovelace have owned land in Somerset for three centuries.
Hinton St George has been the seat of the Poulet family since
the i6th century. The De Mohun family were succeeded in the
i4th century by the Luttrells, who own great estates round
Dunster Castle. The families of Hood, Wyndham, Acland,
Strachey, Brokeley, Portman, Hobhouse and Trevelyan have
been settled in Somerset since the. i6th century.
Somerset was too distant and isolated to take much share in
the early baronial rebellions or the Wars of the Roses, and was
really without political history until the end of the middle ages.
The attempt of Perkin Warbeck in 1497 received some support in
the county, and in 1547 and 1549 there were rebellions against
enclosures. Somerset took a considerable part in the Civil War,
and with the exception of Taunton, was royalist, all the strong-
holds being garrisoned and held for the king. Waller was
defeated at Landsdown near Bath in 1643, and Goring at the
battle of Allermoor in 1645. This defeat was followed by the
capture of the castles held by the royalists. Bridgwater and Bath
fell in July 1645, Sherborne Castle was taken in August, and
after the capture of Nunney, Farleigh and Bristol in September
1645 the whole county was subdued, and very heavy fines were
inflicted upon the royalists, who included nearly all the great
landowners of the county. Somerset was the theatre of Mon-
mouth's rebellion, and he was proclaimed king at Taunton in
1685. The battle of Sedgmoor on the 4th of July was followed
in the autumn by the Bloody Assize held by Judge Jeffreys.
Somerset has always been an agricultural county. Grain was
grown and exported from the nth to the end of the l8th century.
Cider-making has been carried on for centuries. Among other
early industries, salmon and herring fisheries on the west coast were
very profitable, and mining on the Mendips dated from the pre-
Roman period. Stone quarrying at Hambdon Hill and Bath began
very early in the history of the county ; and the lead mines at Welling-
ton and the slate quarries at Wiveliscombe and Treborough have
been worked for more than a century. Coal has been mined at
Radstock from a very remote date, but it did not become of great
importance commercially until the county was opened up by canals
and railways in the igth century. Sheep-farming was largely
carried on after the period of enclosures, and the woollen trade
flourished in Frome, Bath, Bridgwater, Taunton and many other
towns from the I4th to the igth centuries. Glove-making was
centred at Stoke and Yeovil at the end of the i8th century and
became an important subsidiary occupation in many country
districts. The county was represented in the parliament of 1290
and probably in the earlier parliamentary councils of Henry III.
In 1295 it was represented by two knights, and twelve boroughs
returned two burgesses each. There have been many fluctuations
in the borough representation, but the county continued to return
two members until 1832, when it was divided into Somerset East
and Somerset West, each of which divisions returned two members.
Two additional members were returned after 1867 for a third — the
Mid-Somerset — division of the county, until by the act of 1885 the
whole county was divided into seven divisions.
Antiquities. — The great possessions of the bishopric and of
the abbey of Glastonbury led to a remarkable lack of castles in
the mid part of the county, and also tended to overshadow all
other ecclesiastical foundations. Even in the other parts of
the county castles are not a prominent feature, and no monastic
churches remain perfect except those of Bath and its cell,
Dunster. At the dissolution of monasteries Bath was suppressed,
the monastery of Glastonbury was destroyed, as were most of the
smaller monasteries also. Of those which have left any remains,
Woodspring, Montacute (Cluniac) and Old Cleeve (Cistercian)
SOMERSWORTH— SOMERVILLE
are the most remarkable. Athelney, founded by Alfred on the
spot where he found shelter, has utterly perished. Montacute
and Dunster fill a place in both ecclesiastical and military history.
The castle of Robert of Mortain, the Conqueror's brother, was
built on the peaked hill (mons acutus) of Leodgaresburh, where the
holy cross of Waltham was found. The priory arose at the foot.
Dunster, one of the few inhabited castles in England, stands on
a hill crowned by an English mound. Besides these there are
also remains at Nunney and Castle Gary. In ecclesiastical
architecture the two great churches of Wells and Glastonbury
supply a great study of the development of the Early English
style out of the Norman. But the individual architectural
interest of the county lies in its great parish churches, chiefly
in the Perpendicular style, which are especially noted for their
magnificent towers. They are so numerous that it is not easy
to select examples, but besides those at Bath, Taunton and
Glastonbury, the churches at Bridgwater, Cheddar, Crewkerne,
Dunster, Ilminster, Kingsbury, Leigh-on-Mendip, Martock and
Yeovil may be specially indicated. Of earlier work there is
little Norman, and hardly any pre-Conquest, but there is a
characteristic local style in some of the smaller buildings of the
i4th century. The earlier churches were often cruciform, and
sometimes with side towers. In domestic remains no district
is richer, owing to the abundance of good stone. Clevedon
Court is a very fine inhabited manor-house of the i4th century,
and the houses, great and small, of the isth, i6th and i7th
centuries are very numerous. Indeed, the style has never quite
gone out, as the gable and the mullioned window have lingered
on to this day. Barrington Court in the i6th century and
Montacute House in the I7th are specially fine examples. There
are also some very fine barns, as at Glastonbury, Wells and
Pilton.
See J. Collinson, History and Antiquities of the County of Somerset
(Bath, 1791); W. Phelps, History and Antiquities of Somerset (London,
1839); R. W. Eyton, Domesday Studies: Analysis of the Somerset
Survey (London, 1880) ; F. T. Elworthy, West Somerset Word-Book
(Dialect Society, London, 1886); Roger, Myths and Worthies of
Somerset (London, 1887); C. R. B. Barrett, Somerset Highways,
Byways and Waterways (London, 1894) ; C. Walters, Bygone Somerset
(London, 1897); Victoria County History: Somerset; also various
publications by the Somerset Record Society, the Proceedings of the
Somerset Archaeological and Natural History Society, and Somerset
Notes and Queries.
SOMERSWORTH, a city of Strafford county, New Hamp-
shire, U.S.A., on the Salmon Falls river, 5 m. N. of Dover, and
opposite the town of Berwick, Maine, industrially a part of
Somersworth. Pop. (1890) 6207; (1900) 7023 (3166 foreign-
born); (1910) 6704. Somercworth is served by the Boston &
Maine railroad, and is connected by electric line with Rochester
and Dover. The river furnishes good water power, and the city's
chief interests are in the manufacture of cotton and woollen
goods, and boots and shoes. It has a public library. In the south-
west part is Central Park, lying along the shore of Willand's
Pond. The municipality owns and operates the waterworks.
A settlement was established here in the latter part of the i7th
century, when the territory was a part of Dover. In 1729 the
parish of Summersworth was organized; in 1754 this parish was
erected into the town of Somersworth; in 1821 the first company
was formed to develop the water-power and establish cotton and
woollen mills; in 1849 the southern half of the town was set-
off and incorporated as Rollinsford; and in 1893 Somers-
worth was chartered as a city.
See W. D. Knapp, Somersworth, an Historical Sketch (1894).
SOMERVILE, WILLIAM (1675-1742), English poet, eldest son
of a country gentleman, was born at Edstone, Worcestershire,
on the 2nd of September 1675. He was educated at Winchester
College and at New College, Oxford. After his father's death
in 1 705 he lived on his estate, devoting himself especially to field
sports, which supplied the subjects of his best-known poems.
His publications were The Two Springs (1725), a fable; Occa-
sional Poems. . . (1727) ; The Chase (1735) Hobbinol, or the Rural
Games (1740), a burlesque poem; and Field Sports (1742), a
poem on hawking. Somervile died on the igth of July 1742.
His Chase passed through many editions. It was illustrated by
Bewick (1796), by Stothard (1800), and by Hugh Thomson (1896),
with a preface by R. F. Sharp.
SOMERVILLE, MARY (1780-1872), British scientific writer,
was the daughter of Admiral Sir William George Fairfax, and was
born on the 26th of December 1780 in the manse of Jedburgh,
the house of her mother's sister, wife of Dr Thomas Somerville
(1741-1830), author of My Own Life and Times, whose son was
her second husband. She received a rather desultory education,
and mastered algebra and Euclid in secret after she had left
school, and without any extraneous help. In 1804 she married
her cousin, Captain Samuel Greig, who died in 1806; and
in 1812 she married another cousin, Dr William Somerville
(1771-1860), inspector of the army medical board, who encour-
aged and greatly aided her in the study of the physical sciences.
After her marriage she made the acquaintance of the most
eminent scientific men of the time, among whom her talents
had attracted attention before she had acquired general fame,
Laplace paying her the compliment of stating that she was the
only .woman who understood his works. Having been requested
by Lord Brougham to translate for the Society for the Diffusion
of Useful Knowledge the Mecanique Celeste of Laplace, she
greatly popularized its form, and its publication in 1831,
under the title of The Mechanism of the Heavens, at once
made her famous. Her other works are the Connexion of the
Physical Sciences (1834), Physical Geography (1848), and
Molecular and Microscopic Science (1869). Much of the
popularity of her writings was due to their clear and crisp
style and the underlying enthusiasm for her subject which
pervaded them. In 1835 she received a pension of £300 from
government. She died at Naples on the 28th of November
1872. In the following year there appeared her Personal Recol-
lections, consisting of reminiscences written during her old
age, and of great interest both for what they reveal of her own
character and life and the glimpses they afford of the literary
and scientific society of bygone times.
SOMERVILLE, a city of Middlesex county, Massachusetts,
U.S.A., on the Mystic river, adjoining Boston (Charlestown),
Cambridge, Medford and Arlington. Pop. (1890), 40,152;
(1900), 61,643, of whom 17,232 were foreign-born; (1910
census), 77,236. Of the foreign-born in 1900 6400 were
English-Canadians, 5542 were Irish, 1321 were English, 610
were French-Canadians, 590 were Italians, 576 were Scotch
and 556 were Swedish. Somerville is served by the Boston
& Maine railroad and by suburban electric railway lines.
It is a residential and manufacturing suburb of Boston, of which,
industrially, it forms a part; it is included in the metro-
politan water, sewer and park districts, and in the Boston
postal district. It comprises an irregular (land) area of 4-06
sq. m. in the Mystic Valley and along a range of hills or ridges,
of which the largest are Prospect, Spring, Winter, Central and
Clarendon hills. Among its public buildings and institutions
are a fine public library (1872) with 80,000 volumes in 1908, the
city hall, a state armoury, Somerville Hospital, the city poor
house, a Roman Catholic home for the aged, and two high
schools (English and classical). Among the parks are Broadway
Park, Central Hill Park, Prospect Hill Park, Lincoln Park, and
Nathan Tufts Park. The total value of the city's factory
product in 1905 was $22,955,197, an increase of 14-4 per cent,
over that of 1900; in 1890 the product value was only $7,307,522.
The establishments include slaughtering and meat-packing
houses, whose product is by far the most valuable in the city,
bleacheries, finishing factories, glassworks, machine shops, tube
works, jewelry factories, and a desk factory. There are also
lumber and coal yards. Blue slate-stone used for building
purposes is quarried.
Somerville, originally a part of Charlestown, was settled in
1630. Six hundred acres, the " Ten Hills Farm," were granted
here in 1631 to John Winthrop, who built and launched here
in that year the " Blessing of the Bay," the first ship built in
Massachusetts. For more than a century it was a sparsely
settled farming community, the only article of manufacture
392
SOMERVILLE— SOMME
being bricks. On the ipth of April 1775 the British columns
returning from Concord were harassed by the farmers here,
as in the other towns along the line of march. Several of the
hills of Somerville (e.g. Prospect and Central Hills) were fortified
during the siege of Boston. On Prospect Hill on the i8th of
July 1775 Israel Putnam raised the " Appeal to Heaven "
flag, and here also is said to have been raised on the ist of
January 1776 one of the earliest of the Continental standards,
the Union Jack and Stripes. On Powder House Hill (originally
Quarry Hill), in Nathan Tufts Park, there still stands an
interesting old slate-stone powder house, a circular building,
30 ft. high, with a conical cap, originally built (about 1703) for
a windmill, deeded in 1747 to the Massachusetts Bay Colony,
used in 1756-1822 as a powder house, and now marked by a
bronze tablet erected by the Massachusetts Society of the
Sons of the Revolution; on the ist of September 1774, General
Gage seized 250 half -barrels of powder stored here in anticipa-
tion of the outbreak of hostilities; in 1775 the powder house
became the magazine of the American forces besieging Boston,
and at that time Nathanael Greene maintained his headquarters
at the Samuel Tufts House, and Charles Lee had his head-
quarters at the Oliver Tufts House, in Somerville. After the
battle of Saratoga some of Burgoyne's officers were housed
here. The opening of the Middlesex Canal through the town
in 1803 and of the Boston & Lowell railroad in 1835 gave an
impetus to the town's growth. In 1834 an Ursuline Convent,
built in 1827 on Mt Benedict, was sacked and destroyed by an
anti-Catholic mob. In 1842 Somerville was separated from
Charlestown and incorporated under its present name; it was
chartered as a city in 1871.
See T. H. Hurd, History of Middlesex County (3 vols., Philadelphia,
1890); S. A. Drake, History of Middlesex County (2 vols., Boston,
1880); E. A. Samuels, Somerville Past and Present (Boston, 1897);
Miss M. A. Haley, The Story of Somerville (Boston, 1903).
SOMERVILLE, a borough and the county-seat' of Somerset
county, New Jersey, U.S.A., in the north central part of the
state, on the Raritan river, about 36 m. S.W. of New York
City. Pop. (1890), 3861; (1900), 4843, of whom 560 were
foreign-born; (1905), 4782; (1910), 5069. It is served by the
Central Railroad of New Jersey and by inter-urban electric
lines. Adjoining the borough on the west is the town of Raritan
(pop. in 1905, 3954). Places of interest in Somerville are the
Old Parsonage of the Dutch Reformed Church, built in 1750-
1751 of brick imported from Holland by the Rev. Theodorus
Jacobus Frelinghuysen, the first pastor; the Wallace House,
built in 1778 and occupied by General Washington as his head-
quarters during the following winter, when the main army was in
camp at Bound Brook; and Duke's Park (partly in Raritan),
the immense private estate (laid out as a park and open to the
public) of James B. Duke, president of the American Tobacco
Company. Somerville has a fine county court house (1909) of
Alabama white marble. Among the borough's manufactures
are stoves, ranges, soil pipe, brick, woollen goods and shirts.
Settlements were made within the present limits of Somerville
in the last quarter of the i7th century, and the village was at
first called Raritan, all that part of the Raritan Valley from
Bound Brook to the junction of the north and south branches
of the river, and including the present Somerville and Raritan,
then being popularly called " Raritans." The present name
was adopted in 1801. Somerville became the county-seat in
1 783, after the destruction of the court-house in what is now the
borough of Millstone (in Hillsborough township, about 6 m.
south of Somerville) on the 27th of October 1779 by British
troops under Colonel John Graves Simcoe; it was incorporated as
a town in 1863, and as a borough in 1909.
SOMME, a department of northern France, formed in 1790 of
a large part of the province of Picardy (comprising Vermandois,
Santerre, Amienois, Ponthieu, Vimeu, and Marquenterre) and a
small portion of Artois. Pop. (1906), 532,567. Area 2423 sq. m.
It is bounded on the N. by Pas-de-Calais, E. by Aisne, S. by
Oise, and S.W. by Seine-Inferieure, and its sea-coast extends
28 m. along the English Channel. Two streams flowing into the
Channel — the Authie on the north and the Bresle on the south-
west— bound it in these directions. The surface consists of
great rolling plains, generally well cultivated and very fertile.
The highest point, about 700 ft. above the sea, lies in the south-
west, not far from Aumale. From the mouth of the Authie
to the Bay of the Somme the coast is lined with a belt of sand
dunes about 2 m. broad, behind which is the Marquenterre, a
tract of 50,000 acres reclaimed from the sea by means of dykes
and traversed by drainage canals. The Bay of the Somme,
obstructed by dangerous sandbanks, contains the three fishing
ports of Crotoy, St Valery, which is also the chief commercial
port, and Le Hourdel. Next come the shingle banks, behind
which the low fields of Cayeux (25,000 acres) have been
reclaimed; and then at the hamlet of Ault commence the
chalk cliffs, which continue onwards into Normandy.
The river Somme rises to the N.N.E. of St Quentin in the
department of Aisne, where it has a course of about 25 m.; it
traverses the department of Somme from the south-east to the
north-west for a distance of about 125 m., through a marshy
valley abounding in peat. Commanded by Ham, Peronne,
Amiens and Abbeville, this valley forms a northern line of
defence for Paris. Apart from the water-power it supplies, the
Somme is of great commercial value, being accompanied by a
canal all the way from its source wherever it is not itself navig-
able. From Abbeville to St Valery its lower course forms a
maritime canal 165 ft. wide, 12 ft. deep, and 8 to 9 m. long,
capable of bearing at high tide vessels of 300 tons burden.
From St Valery to the open sea the current hollows out a very
variable bed accessible at certain tides for vessels of 500 tons.
The most important affluents of the Somme — the Ancre from
the north-east by way of Albert and Corbie, the Avre from the
south-east by Roye, and the Selle from the south by Conty— join
the main streams at Amiens. The Authie and the Bresle are
respectively 63 and 45 m. long. The latter ends in a maritime
canal about 2 m. long between Eu and Treport.
The mean temperature is lower than that of Paris (49° F. at
Abbeville). The mean annual rainfall is 33 in. at Abbeville. The
department, especially in the north-east, is one of the best cultivated
in France. Beetroot for sugar is the staple crop of the Pe'ronne
arrondissement ; cereals, chiefly wheat, fodder and mangel-wurzels,
oil plants, poppy, colza, flax, hemp and potatoes are grown through-
out the department, the latter more largely on the seaboard. Stock-
raising of all kinds is successfully carried on. No wine is grown, the
principal drinks being beer and cider. Market gardening is of great
importance round Amiens. Peat-cutting is actively carried on,
the best qualities and the deepest workings being in the valley of
the Somme, between Amiens and Abbeville. Phosphate of lime
is also an important mineral product. The manufacture of a great
variety of textile goods, especially velvet (Amiens), of beet sugar and
alcohol, and of locks, safes and the like (in the Vimeu), are charac-
teristic industries of the department, which also carries on saw-
milling, flour-milling, brewing, dyeing, ironfounding and forging,
printing and the manufacture of paper, chemical products, machines
and ironmongery, hosiery (in the Santerre), &c. Cereals, horses
of the Boulogne or Norman breed, cattle, hemp and linen, and the
manufactured goods are the exports of the department. St Valery
(pop. 3389) exports vegetables and farm-products (to England), and
shingle for the manufacture of earthenware. Besides the raw
materials for the manufacturing industries, wines and timber, the
latter largely imported at St Valery, dyestuffs and coal are imported.
The department is served principally by the Northern railway,
and its canals and rivers provide 140 m. of navigable waterway.
Administratively the department comprises 5 arrondissements
(those of Amiens, the capital, Abbeville, Doullens, Montdidier and
Pe'ronne), 41 cantons and 836 communes. The department belongs
to the academic (educational circumscription) of Lille, and consti-
tutes the diocese of Amiens, which city is also the seat of a court of
appeal and the headquarters of the region of the II. army corps,
wherein the department is included.
The most noteworthy places are Amiens (the capital), Abbeville,
Montdidier, Pe'ronne, Doullens, St Riquier, Crcfcy and Ham, which
are treated under those headings. The following places may also
be mentioned : Albert (pop. 6656), after Amiens and Abbeville the
most populous town in the department and a centre for machine
construction; Villers-Bretonneux (pop. 4447), a centre of hosiery
manufacture; Corbie, once celebrated for its Benedictine abbey
(founded in the 7th century) the church of which (i6th-i8th century)
is still to be seen; L'Etoile, with the well-preserved remains of a
Roman camp; Folleville, which has a church (isth century) contain-
ing the fine Renaissance tomb of Raoul de Lannoy; Picquigny, with
SOMMER— SOMNATH
393
the remains of a chateau of the I4th, I5th and i6th centuries, once
one of the chief strongholds of Picardy; Rue, where there is a fine
chapel of the I5th century; and Tilloloy, which has a Renaissance
church.
SOMMER, in architecture, a girder or main beam of a floor;
if supported on two storey posts and open below, it is called a
bress or breast-summer. The word is also spelled " summer,"
and is the same as " sumpter," a pack-horse, Fr. sommier,
O. Fr., saume, from Low Lat. salma, pack, burden, Gr. cray/aa,
ffaTTdv, to fasten a pack on a horse.
SOMMERFELD, a town of Germany, in the Prussian province
of Brandenburg, on the Lubis, 40 m. S.E. of Frankfort-on-Oder,
by the railway from Berlin to Breslau. Pop. (1905), 12,251.
It has a Roman Catholic church, three Evangelical churches,
several schools and a hospital. Its manufactures of woollen
cloth are important; and it also contains finishing and dye-
works, an ironfoundry, boiler-works and breweries.
SOMMERS, WILLIAM (d. 1560), court fool of Henry VIII.,
is said to have been brought to the king at Greenwich by
Richard Fermor, about 1525. He was soon in high favour with
Henry, whose liberality to Sommers is attested by the accounts
of the royal household. The jester possessed a shrewd wit,
which he exercised even on Cardinal Wolsey. He is said to have
warned his master of the wasteful methods of the exchequer and
to have made himself the advocate of the poor. His portrait is
shown in a painting of Henry VIII. and his family at Hampton
Court, and he again appears with Henry VIII. in a psalter
which belonged to the king and is now in the British Museum.
He was probably the William Sommers whose death is recorded
in the parish of St Leonard's, Shoreditch, on the isth of June
1560.
For his position in i6th- and 17th-century literature see T. Nash,
Pleasant Comedie called Summers' last Will and Testament (pr. 1600);
S. Rowlands, Good Newes and Bad Newes (1622); and a popular
account, A Pleasant Historie of the Life and Death of William Som-
mers (reprinted 1794). See also John Doran, History of Court Fools
(1858).
SOMNAMBULISM (from Lat. somnus, sleep, and ambulare,
to walk), or sleep-walking, the condition under which people
are known to walk along while asleep, apparently unconscious
of external impressions, return to bed, and when they awake
have no recollection of any of these occurrences. Sometimes
the actions performed are of a complicated character and bear
some relation to the daily life of the sleeper. Thus a cook has
been known to rise out of bed, carry a pitcher to a well in the
garden, fill it, go back to the house, fill various vessels carefully
and without spilling a drop of water, then return to bed, and have
no recollection of what had transpired. Again, somnambulists
have been observed to write letters or reports, execute drawings,
and play upon musical instruments. Frequently they have
gone along dangerous paths, executing delicate movements
with precision.
Four types of somnambulists may be noticed: (i) those who
speak without acting, a common variety often observed in
children and not usually considered somnambulistic; (2) those
who act without speaking, also well known and the most common
type; (3) those who both act and speak, more exceptional; and
(4) those who both act and speak and who have not merely the
sense of touch active but also the senses of sight and hearing.
The fourth class is the most extreme type and merges into the
physiological condition of mesmerism or hypnotism (q.v.),
and it is necessary here only to notice it in connexion with the
subject of sleep. Many observations indicate that, at all
events in some cases, the somnambulist engaged, for example,
in writing, has a mental picture of the page before him and of
the words he has written. He does not see what he really
writes. This has been proved by causing persons to write on a
sheet of paper lying on the top of other sheets. After he had
been allowed to write a few sentences, the sheet was carefully
withdrawn and he continued his writing on the next sheet,
beginning on the new sheet at the corresponding point where
he left off on the first one. Moreover, the somnambulist, by
force of habit, stroked t's and dotted i's at the exact places
Organic
life.
Conscious-
ness.
Imagin-
ative
faculties.
Co-ordi-
nating
faculties.
Power of
movement
and
sensibility.
Normal waking state
Sleep, I st degree .
,, 2nd degree .
„ 3rd degree . .
Deep sleep ....
Waking, ist degree
*
,, 2nd degree (speci-
ally dreaming
state) .
,, 3rd degree. .
Complete waking
Dreaming state .
• •
Ordinary somnambulism
— (2) above.
Profound somnambulism
(perfect unconscious-
ness)
Somnambulistic dream
(movements in a dream)
where the t's and i's would have been had he written continuously
on one sheet, showing that what he was conscious of was not
what was before him, but the mental picture of what he had, done.
The following table, modified from two such tables given by
Benjamin Ball (b. 1833) and Chambard in their classical article
" Somnambulisme " in the Dictionnaire encyclopedique des sciences
medicales, shows the relation of the various intermediate conditions
of sleeping and awaking and of the dreaming and somnambulistic
states. The horizontal stroke indicates the presence of the condition
the name of which heads the column : —
The somnambulist acts his dream. His condition is that of a
vivid dream in which the cerebrum is so active as to influence
centres usually concerned in voluntary movements. Under the
dominant idea he executes the movements that this idea would
naturally excite in the waking state. Many of his movements are
in a sense purposive; his eyes may be shut so that the movements
are executed in the dark, or the eyes may be open so that there is
a picture on the retina that may awaken no consciousness, and yet
may, by reflex mechanisms, be the starting-point of definite and
deliberate movements. In many cases he does not hear, the audi-
tory centres not responding; but in others suggestive words may
alter the current of his dream and lead him to perform other actions
than what he intended to do. On awaking there is either no
memory of what has taken place or the dim recollection of a fading
dream.
It is important to notice that there is scarcely any action of
which a somnambulist may not be capable, and immoral acts from
which the individual would shrink in waking hours may be per-
formed with indifference. Considering the abrogation of self-con-
trol peculiar to the physiological condition, it is evident that no
moral responsibility can be attached to such actions. In cases
where somnambulistic propensities place a person in danger, an
endeavour should be made to induce him to return to bed without
awaking him ; as a rude awakening may produce a serious shock to
the nervous system. Inquiry should then be made into the exciting
cause of the somnambulistic dream, such as a particular train of
thought, over-excitement, fhe reading of special books, the recollec-
tion of an accident or of a crisis in the person's history, with the view
of removing the cause if possible. It should never be forgotten that
somnambulism, like chorea, hysteria and epilepsy, is the expression
of a general morbid predisposition, an indication of a nervous
diathesis, requiring careful treatment so as to avoid more dangerous
maladies.
See also SLEEP and MUSCLE AND NERVE (physiology).
SOMNATH, an ancient decayed city of Kathiawar in the
province of Bombay, India. Pop. (1901), 8341. It is situated
on a bay of the Arabian Sea. The port, which is called Vera-
wal, is distinct from the city proper (Deva-Pattan, Somnath-
Pattan, or Prabhas). The latter occupies a prominence on the
south side of the bay, is surrounded by massive fortifications,
and retains in its ruins and numerous tombs many traces of its
former greatness as a commercial port. But the city was most
famous for the temple just outside its walls in which stood the
great idol or rather columnar emblem of Siva called Somnath
(Moon's lord), which was destroyed by Mahmud of Ghazni.
The famous " Gates of Somnath," which were supposed to
have been carried off by Mahmud to Ghazni, had probably no
connexion with Somnath. They are built of deodar (n ft. in
height and 9! in width) and are richly carved in geometric
394
SOMNUS— SONATA FORMS
Saracenic patterns. The gates were attached to the building
covering Mahmud's tomb at Ghazni until their removal to India.
under Lord Ellenborough's orders, on the evacuation of Afghani-
stan in 1842. They are now contained in the arsenal at Agra.
SOMNUS, the Latin name for the personification of sleep,
in Greek Hypnos ("Tir^os). He is the son of Night and the
twin brother of Death, with whom he dwells in the darkness of
the underworld. At first the difference between the two is
strongly marked. While Death is cruel and merciless, and
never lets go his prey once seized, Sleep is gentle and kindly,
the bestower of rest and pleasant dreams, the soother of care
and sorrow. Even Zeus is unable to resist his influence, and
on two occasions was put to sleep by him at the instance of
Hera. In time, however, the conception of Death was greatly
modified, until at last he was depicted as a beautiful boy, with
or without wings. In like manner, Sleep came to be used as a
euphemism for Death. In art the representations of Sleep
are numerous and varied. On the chest of Cypselus, Night was
depicted holding in her hands two sleeping children — one white
(Sleep), the other black (Death). His most common form is
that of a vigorous young man, with wings on his forehead;
his attributes a stalk of poppy, and a horn from which he drops
slumber upon those whom he puts to rest. In Ovid (Metam. xi.
592) the home of Sleep is placed in a dark grotto in the land of the
Cimmerians, where he dwells surrounded by a band of Dreams.
See Homer, Iliad xiv. 231 — xvi. 672; Hesiod, Theog. 212, 758;
Pausanias, v. 18, i.
SONATA (From Ital. sonare, to sound), in music, originally
merely a piece " played " as opposed to " cantata," a piece
sung, though the term is said to have been applied once or twice
to a vocal composition. By the time of Corelli two polyphonic
types of sonata were established, the sonata da chiesa and the
sonata da camera.
The s.onata ,da chiesa, generally for one or more violins and
bass, consisted normally of a slow introduction, a loosely fugued
allegro, a cantabile slow movement1 and a lively finale in
some such " binary " form (see SONATA FORMS) as suggests
affinity with the dance-tunes of the SUITE (q.v.). This scheme,
however, is not very clearly defined, until the works of Bach
and Handel, when it becomes the sonata par excellence and per-
sists as a tradition of Italian violin music even into the early
ipth century in the works of Boccherini.
The sonata da camera consisted almost entirely of idealized
dance-tunes. By the time of Bach and Handel it had, on the
one hand, become entirely separate from the sonata, and was
known as the suite, partita, ordre or (when it had a prelude in
the form of a French opera-overture) the overture. On the
other hand, the features of sonata da chiesa and sonata da camera
became freely intermixed. But Bach, who does not use those
titles, yet keeps the two types so distinct that they can be
recognized by style and form. Thus, in his six solo violin,
sonatas, Nos. i, 3 and 5 are sonate de chiesa, and Nos. 2, 4 and 6
are called partitas, but are admissible among the sonatas as being
sonate da camera.
The sonatas of Domenico Scarlatti (q.v.) are a special type
determined chiefly by those kinds of keyboard technique that
are equally opposed, on the one hand, to contrapuntal style,
and, on the other hand, to the supporting of melodies on a life-
less accompaniment. Longo's complete collection of Scarlatti's
sonatas shows that, short of the true developed sonata-style,
there is nothing between the old sonata da chiesa and Beet-
hovenish experiments in unorthodox "complementary keys"
that Scarlatti does not carry off with a delightfully irresponsible
" impressionism " that enables him to be modern in effect
without any serious modern principle. Great, however, as the
variety of his forms is now known to be, and numerous as are
1 A movement is a piece of music forming a complete design, or at
least not merely introductory; and within such limits as either to
contain no radical change of pace or else to treat changes of pace in a
simple and symmetrical alternation of episodes. The first complete
movement of a sonata seldom leads without break to the others,
except in modern examples; but the later movements are often
connected.
the newly published slow movements, the normal Scarlatti
sonata is that which the concert-player popularizes; fireworks
in binary form, with a perfunctory opening, a crowd of pregnant
ideas in the complementary key, and, after the double bar, a
second part reproducing these ideas as soon as possible in the
tonic. The sonatas of Paradies are mild and elongated works
of this type with a graceful and melodious little second move-
ment added. The manuscript on which Longo bases his edition
of Scarlatti frequently shows a similar juxtaposition of move-
ments, though without definite indication of their connexion.
The style is still traceable in the sonatas of the later classics,
whenever a first movement is in a uniform rush of rapid motion,
as in Mozart's violin sonata in F (Kochel's Catalogue, No. 377),
and in several of dementi's best works.
The sonata in its main classical significance is a work for one
or two instruments consisting of a group of movements, four
movements being the full scheme; the last movement in the
same key as the first; each movement normally in one tempo,
complete in design, independent from the other movements in
themes, but aptly related to them in key and style; and
constructed in the SONATA FORMS (q.v.).
Though, since the time of Bach (when trios were called sonatas),
the term is not applied to works for more than two instruments,
the full (and even the, normal) characteristics of this most
important of all instrumental art-forms are rarely revealed
except in trios, quartets, &c., and symphonies.
SONATA FORMS, in music. The sonata forms (see SONATA
above) cover the whole ground of instrumental music from
C. P. E. Bach to the advent of the instrumental lyric as matured
by Schumann and of the symphonic poem originated by Liszt.
They also have a profound influence on classical opera and vocal
music, and hence, by repulsion, upon Wagner, whose life-work
consisted in emancipating the music-drama from them. The
conditions which developed them were the conditions which made
Gluck's reform of opera possible; for they are at once the means
and the expression of that iSth-century change in the language
of music which made it a truly dramatic medium. Hence our
present task is the discussion of the largest and most central
problems pure music has ever dealt with; and, while the external
technicalities are numerous and prominent, they are significant
only so long as we maintain their connexion with those problems
with which the true masters (and only the true masters) of the
sonata forms are concerned. Much, then, that is essential to
the true sonata forms must come under the headings of instru-
mentation, harmony, and other musical categories. But here
we must confine ourselves to the purely formal aspect, allowing
only such allusion to other aspects as will help us to see behind
superficial appearances.
i. The Sonata Style. — The sonata forms are representative
of the type of music that attracts us primarily by its design
and its larger contrasts, and only in the second place by the
vitality of its texture. In Bach's art the reverse is the case;
we listen chiefly to the texture, and our delight in the larger
designs, though essential, is seldom more than subconscious.
Art-forms existed already in Bach's time, in which the shape,
and not the texture, was the object of attention, but these were
lighter forms. Bach himself was the greatest master of them,
but he never transcended what was then their legitimate limit
as an art which is related to his larger work much as decorative
designs are related to architecture. Bach's suites and partitas
(see SUITE) contain (apart from their great preludes, in which
other principles are involved) one form embodied in several
different dance rhythms, which is the germ from which the
sonata was developed. It is sometimes known as the " binary "
form; but as some eminent writers classify its later develop-
ment as " ternary," we shall here avoid both terms, and refer
to it in its earlier manifestations as the " suite " form, and in
its later as the " sonata " form. In the suite it may be repre-
sented by the following diagram: —
SONATA FORMS
395
where the long horizontal line represents the main key, the
short horizontal lines represent a second key, the perpendicular
line represents the division into two portions,1 and the letters
represent the phrases. This form is often typified in the com-
pass of a single melody without change of key or marked divi-
sion, as in that beautiful English tune " Barbara Allen," where
the half-close on the dominant in the fourth bar is symmetrically
reproduced as the full close on the tonic at the end (see MELODY,
example i). On a larger scale it admits of great variety and
elaboration, but the style of the classical suite never allows it to
become much more than the musical analogue of a pattern on a
plate. The passage from the material in the main key to that in
the foreign key (from A to B in the above diagram) is continuous
and unnoticeable, nor is the second part of the design which
leads to the return of B in the tonic noticeably different in style
or movement from the earlier part. It has a slightly greater
range of key, for the sake of variety, but no striking contrast.
Lastly, the rhythms, and such texture as is necessary to keep
the details alive, are uniform throughout.
Now, the essential advance shown by the true sonata forms
involves a direct denial of all these features of the suite style.
No doubt one natural consequence of working on a larger scale
is that the sonata composer tends to use several contrasting
themes where the suite composer used only one; and an equally
natural consequence is that the shape itself is almost invariably
amplified by the introduction of a recapitulation of A as well
as of B in the tonic, so that our diagram would become modified
into the following: —
DtwtcpTTient
varvmis fays
AS
But these facts do not constitute a vital difference between
sonata and suite forms. They do not, for instance, enable
composers like Boccherini and the later Italian violin writers to
emancipate themselves from the influence of the suite forms,
though the designs may be enlarged beyond the bursting point.
The real difference lies, indeed, in every category of the art,
but primarily* in a variety of rhythm that carries with it an
entirely new sense of motion, and enables music to become not
only, as hitherto, architectural in grandeur and decorative in
detail, but dramatic in range. The gigue of Bach's C major
suite for violoncello, and the allemande of his D major clavier
partita, will show that the suite forms were amply capable of
digesting a non-polyphonic style and a group of several con-
trasted themes; but they still show the uniformity of rhythm
and texture which confines them to the older world in which
visible symmetry of form is admissible only on a small scale.
Haydn can write a movement, perhaps shorter than some of
Bach's larger dance movements, containing only one theme
and mainly polyphonic in texture, as in the finale of his tiny
string quartet in D minor, Op. 42; but the transformations of
his one theme will be contrasted in structure, the changes of
rhythm will be a continual surprise, the passage from the first
key to the second will be important and emphatic, and at every
point the difference in scope between his sonata music and Bach's
suite music will be as radical as that between drama and lyric.
The process of this change was gradual; indeed, no artistic
revolution of such importance can ever have been accomplished
more smoothly and rapidly. Yet Philipp Emmanuel Bach,
the first to realize the essentials of the new style, obtained his
object only at the cost of older elements that are essential to
artistic completeness. And Haydn himself was hardly able
to reinfuse such vitality of texture as would give the new form
permanent value, before he was forty years of age.
Haydn's earlier string quartets, from Op. i to Op. 33, present
one of the most fascinating spectacles of historical development in
all music. He was content to begin at a lower level of brilliance
1 In all stages of development it has been usual to repeat at least
the first portion. The repetition is indicated by a sign and may be
ignored in analysis, though Haydn, Beethoven and Brahms have
sometimes produced special effects by it. The repetition of the
second part is now obsolete, and that of the first nearly so.
than some of his contemporaries; because from the outset
his object was the true possibilities o.f the new style, and no
luxuriance of colour could blind him to the lifelessness of an art
that is merely suite-form spun out. Haydn's earliest quick move-
ments in sonata forms are often as short as any suite movement,
except when he writes for orchestra, where he is influenced
by the style of the operatic overture as we find it in Gluck and
in the symphonies of Philipp Emmanuel Bach In his slow
movements he at first more often than not worked in the
style and form of the operatic aria; and in so mature a
piece as the quartet in G major, Op. 17, No. 5, he not only en-
dorses Philipp Emmanuel Bach's evident conviction that opera-
tic recitative is within the scope of the sonata, but convinces
us that he is right. It was easy for the early composers of
sonatas to introduce theatrical features into their instrumental
music; for the very fact that the sonata forms were in poly-
phonic days the forms of lighter music is a consequence of their
original identity with the forms of stage-music and dance (see
OVERTURE and SYMPHONY). But it needed a very great com-
poser to realize not only the radically dramatic character
of a sonata form in which the rhythm and texture is emanci-
pated from the metrical bondage of the suite, but also its true
limitations as pure instrumental music. As Haydn's work'
proceeded, so did the freedom of his rhythm and its consequent
inner dramatic life increase; while the external operatic influences
soon disappeared, not so much because they were out of place,
as because opera itself " paled its ineffectual fires " in the
daylight of the pure instrumental drama with its incomparably
swifter and terser action. Polyphony, on the other hand,
steadily increased, and was so openly encouraged that in the
first set of Haydn's quartets which is entirely free from archaism
(Op. 20) three of the finales are regular fugues. And from that
time onward there is hardly a work of Haydn's in which highly
organised fugalo passages are not a frequent means of contrast.
2. The Sonata Form. — In the last-mentioned quartets of
Haydn and the works of Mozart's boyhood, the normal sonata
form, as we now accept it, is firmly established, and may be
represented as follows: —
subject
?"« subject
Rapi
Rapidly
nujiittla/uig
EXPOSITION
i" subject .-
I RECAPITULATION I
This diagram is, no doubt, equally true of Philipp Emmanuel
Bach's form; and thus we see how little the external shape
of a movement tells us as to the ripeness or genuineness of the
specimen. Apart from this, much confusion of thought is
caused by the unfortunate terms " first and second subject,"
which have misled not only many teachers but nearly all pseudo-
classical composers into regarding the exposition of the move-
ment as consisting essentially of two themes expanded to
the requisite size by appropriate discourse. When we use the
terms " first and second subject," then, let us be understood
to mean any number of different themes, in any variety of
proportion, but separable into two groups of which the first
is in the tonic while the second is in another related key, which
is called the complementary key. The exposition of a move-
ment in sonata form contains, then, these two "subjects"
and represents these two keys; and unless the work is too
large or too emotional for merely decorative emphasis, the
exposition is generally repeated. Then the development
follows. It is normally founded on the materials of the exposi-
tion, but neither confines itself steadily to any key nor leaves
its material as it found it. On the contrary, its function
is to provide a wide range of modulation, and to put the
materials into fresh light by regrouping them (see MELODY,
examples 2-7). It cannot be too strongly insisted that in
the sonata forms there are no rules whatever for the number
of themes and their relative prominence among themselves
and in their development. After the development the
first subject returns in the tonic, with an effect which, after
so many changes of key, is always reassuring as regards
396
SONATA FORMS
design, and sometimes intensely dramatic. The second subject
follows, also in the tonic. This recapitulation is normally
very exact, except for the alteration necessary to bring the
second subject into the tonic instead of the complementary
key, an alteration which, of course, will chiefly affect the first
subject, if, indeed, the original transition was not so simple
that it could be merely suppressed. In highly organized works,
however, this point is often marked by some special stroke of
genius, and even in the most exact recapitulations the great
masters make minute changes which throw the second subject
into higher relief. Modern criticism tends to dismiss the
recapitulation as a conventional and obsolescent feature; but
this is a great mistake. The classics, from Scarlatti to Brahms,
give overwhelming proof that it is a primary instinct of com-
posers with a living sense of form to conceive of all kinds of
exposition as predestined to gain force by recapitulation,
especially in any part that resembles a second subject. Haydn
we shall find to be an extreme case; but we have only to regard
his true second subject as residing in the very end of his exposi-
tion, and his mature work will then illustrate the point with
special force. Beethoven seems to give one notorious detail
to the contrary effect, in the first movement of his C minor
symphony, but the passage only proves the rule more forcibly
when seen in its context. The powerful phrase that announced
the second subject is in the recapitulation transferred from the
resounding triumph of the horns to the impotent croaking fury
of the bassoons. This looks like a mere inconvenient result of
the fact that in 1808 the horns could not transfer the phrase
from E flat to C without a change of crook. But in earlier
works Beethoven has made them change crooks on far less
provocation; and besides, he could easily have contrived a
dozen tone-colours more dignified than that of the bassoons.
The point must, then, be one of Beethoven's touches of Shake-
spearian grotesqueness; and certainly it draws attention to the
recapitulation. But even if we dismiss it with impatience we
are then immediately confronted with a new melodic and
harmonic poignancy in the subsequent crescendo, produced by
changes as unobtrusive and as essential to the life of the whole
as are the deviations from mechanical symmetry in the forms
of leaves and flowers. With the recapitulation the bare
essentials of sonata form end; but the material will probably,
in works on a large scale, furnish ample means of adding a more
emphatic conclusion, which is then called the coda. In Beetho-
ven's hands the coda ranges from a dramatic non-existence,
as in the distant thunder in which the first movement of the
D minor sonata expires, to the mighty series of new develop-
ments and climaxes which, in the 3rd and pth symphonies and
many other works, tower superbly above the normal structure.
Haydn's later treatment of sonata form is very free. He
shows a sense of space and breadth which, if second to Beet-
hoven's, can only be said to be so because the terms of Haydn's
art did not give it fuller expression. The scale on which he
worked was so small that he soon found that a regular recapitula-
tion took up all the room he wanted for larger growths to a
brilliant climax. Moreover, he found that if his second subject
began with material in sharp contrast to the first, it tended to
make his movements sound too undeveloped and sectional for
his taste; and so in his later works he generally makes his second
subject on the same material as his first, until the very end of
the exposition, where an exquisitely neat new theme forms the
close. This cadence-theme also rounds off the whole movement
with an appearance of regularity which has led to the belief
that Haydn, like Mozart, observes a custom of rigid recapitula-
tion from which Beethoven was the first to emancipate the
form. The truth is that the brilliant new developments which
oust the recapitulation almost entirely in Haydn's form are more
like Beethoven's codas than anything else in earlier music, and
the final appearance of the neat cadence-theme at the end is,
from its very formality, the most brilliant stroke of all. Lastly,
these tendencies are characteristic, not of Haydn's early, but
of his late work. They have been described as " showing
form in the making "; but this is far from true. They show
form in an advanced state of development; and further pro-
gress was only possible by the introduction" of new qualities
which at first had a decidedly restraining effect.
Mozart's greater regularity is due, not to a more formalizing
tendency than Haydn's, but to the fact that he works on a
larger scale and with a higher polyphony. In actual length,
Mozart's movements are so much greater than Haydn's that
sharply contrasted themes and regular recapitulations do not
hamper him. On the contrary, they give his designs the
necessary breadth. This was not more his aim than Haydn's;
but he had the opportunities of a later generation and the
example of Haydn's own earlier work, besides a vast experi-
ence of composition (both in contrapuntal and sonata forms)
that began in his miraculous infancy and made all technical
difficulties vanish before he was fifteen. At sixteen he was
writing string-quartets in which his blending of polyphonic and
sonata style is more surprising, though less subtle, than Haydn's.
At "twenty-two he was treating form with an expansiveness
which sometimes left his music perilously thin, though he was
never merely redundant. The emphatic reiterations in the
Paris symphony are not mannerisms or formulas; they are the
naturally simple expression of a naturally simple material.
In a series of easy-going works of this kind he soon learnt the
conditions of breadth on a large scale; and, by the time he came
under the direct influence of Haydn, every new polyphonic,
rhythmic and instrumental resource enlarged the scale of his
designs as fast as it increased their terseness and depth. His
career was cut short, and his treatment of form reached its
limit only in the direction of emotional expression. The sonata
style never lost with him its dramatic character, but, while it
was capable of pathos, excitement, and even vehemence, it could
not concern itself with catastrophes or tragic climaxes. The
G minor symphony shows poignant feeling, but its pathos is
not that of a tragedy; it is there from first to last as a result,
not a foreboding nor an embodiment, of sad experiences. In
the still more profound and pathetic G minor quintet we see
Mozart for once transcending his limits. The slow movement
rises to a height not surpassed by Beethoven himself until his
second period; an adequate finale is unattainable with Mozart's
resources, and he knows it. He writes an introduction, beautiful,
mysterious, but magnificently reserved, and so reconciles us as
he best can to the enjoyment of a lighthearted finale which has
only here and there a note of warmth to suggest to us any
pretension of compatability with what went before.
Beethoven discovered all the new resources needed to make
the sonata a means of tragic expression, and with this a means
of expressing a higher rapture than had ever been conceived in
music since Palestrina. He did not, as has sometimes been
said, emancipate sonata forms from the stiffness of the recapitu-
lation. On the contrary, where he alters that section it is almost
invariably in order to have, not less recapitulation, but more,
by stating some part of the second subject in a new key before
bringing it into the tonic. Here, as has been suggested above,
the effect of his devices is, both in minutiae and in surprises, to
throw the second subject into higher relief. Every one of the
changes which appear in the outward form of his work is a
development from within; and, as far as any one principle is more
fundamental than others, that development is primarily har-
monic. • We have elsewhere mentioned his practice of organizing
remote or apparently capricious modulations on a steady
sequential progression of the bass, thereby causing such har-
monies to appear not as mere surprises or special effects (a
form in which they have a highly artistic function in Mozart
and Haydn) but as inevitable developments (see BEETHOVEN
and HARMONY). The result of this and a host of similar principles
is an incalculable intensification of harmonic and emotional
expression. Let us compare the opening of the second subject
of Haydn's quartet in A major, Op. 20, No. 6, with the corre-
sponding passage in the first movement of Beethoven's sonata,
Op. 2, No. 2. Haydn executes the masterly innovation of
a second subject that before establishing its true key passes
through a series of rich modulations. He begins in E minor,
SONATA FORMS
397
rapidly passing through G and A minor, and so to the dominant
of E, in various phases of tender humour and cheerful climax.
The keys are remote but not unrelated, the modulations are
smooth, and the style is that of a witty improvization. Beet-
hoven's second subject is intensely agitated; its modulation begins
like Haydn's as regards key, but its harmonies are startling
and its pace tremendous. Its regular rising bass carries it in
two steps to a totally unrelated key, through which it is urged
by the same relentless process with increasing speed, and when
it is at last driven to the threshold of the key which it seeks as
its home there is a moment of suspense before it plunges joyfully
into its cadence. Such resources as this enable Beethoven to
give rational dramatic force to every point in his scheme, and so
they soon oust those almost symbolical formulas of transition
and cadence which are a natural feature in Mozart's music and
a lifeless convention in imitations of it. The growth of Beet-
hoven's forms is externally most evident in his new freedom of
choice for the complementary key. Hitherto the only possible
key for the second subject was in major movements the dominant,
and in minor movements the relative major or dominant minor.
A sonata which begins by treating all directly related keys as
mere incidents in establishing the tonic, will very probably
choose some remoter key as its main contrast; and it is worth
while trying the opening of the Waldstein sonata (Op. 53)
with the simple alteration of C sharp and A natural for C
natural and A sharp in the bass of the twenty-first bar, so
as to bring the whole transition to the second subject on
to the orthodox dominant of G, in order to see, on the one
hand, how utterly inadequate that key is as a contrast to the
opening, and, on the other hand, how unnecessarily long the
transition seems when that is the key which it is intended to
establish.
3. The Sonata as a whole. — The history of the Waldstein
sonata marks the irrevocable transition from Mozart to Beet-
hoven (see iv. 88); and in his rejection of the well-known
Andante in F (which was originally intended for its slow move-
ment) Beethoven draws attention to the problem of the sonata
as a whole, and the grouping of its movements. The normal
sonata, in its complete (or symphonic) form, consists of four
movements: firstly, a quick movement in that sonata form par
excellence to which our discussion has been hitherto confined;
then two middle movements, interchangeable in position, the
one a slow movement in some lighter form, and the other a dance
movement (the minuet, or scherzo) which in earlier examples is
of hardly wider range than a suite movement. The finale is a
quick movement, which may be in sonata form, but generally
tends to become influenced by the lighter and more sectional
rondo form, if indeed it is not a set of variations, or even, in
the opposite extreme, a fugue. Aesthetically, if not historically,
this general scheme is related to that of the suite, in so far as it
places the most elaborate and highly organized movement first,
corresponding to the allemande and courante; while the slow
movement, with its more lyric character and melodious expres-
sion, corresponds to the sarabande; the minuet or scherzo to the
lighter dance tunes or " Galanterien " (such as the gavotte and
bourree) , and the lively finale to the gigue. But just as the whole
language of the sonata is more dramatic, so are the contrasts
between its movements at once sharper and more essential to
its unity. Hence, the diversity of outward forms within the
limits of these four movements is incalculable.
The first movement is almost always in the sonata form par
excellence, because that admits of higher organization and more
concentrated dramatic interest than any other. Often after
such a movement a slow piece in the form conveniently known as
A B A, or simple " ternary " form (i.e. a broad melody in one
key, followed by a contrasted melody in another, and concluded
by a recapitulation of the first) is found to be a welcome relief,
and of great breadth of effect. Of course in all true classics the
very simplicity of such movements will be inspired by that sense
of rhythmic freedom and possibility of development that per-
manently raises sonata forms from the level of a mere decorative
design; nor, on the other hand, is there any limit to the complexity
of form possible to a slow movement, except that imposed by the
inevitable length of every step in its slow progress. Still, the
tendency of slow movements, even more than of finales, is to
prefer a loose and sectional organization. Sonata form is
frequently used in them by Haydn and Mozart with the success
attainable only by the greatest masters of rhythmic flow; but
even in their works the development is apt to be episodic in
character, and is very often omitted.
The minuet, in Haydn's and Mozart's hands, shows a surprising
amount of rhythmic variety and freedom within the limits of a
dance tune; but Haydn, as is well known, sighed for its develop-
ment into something larger; and, though Beethoven had long
emerged from his " first period " before he could surpass the
splendid minuet in Haydn's quartet in G major, Op. 77, No. i,
he achieved in the scherzo of his Eroica symphony the first of a
long line of movements which establish the scherzo (q.v.) as an
essentially new art-form.
The only condition that affects the forms of finales is that a
sonata involves a considerable stretch of time, and therefore
its end must be so designed as to relieve the strain on the atten-
tion. In a drama or a story the deeper artistic necessity for
this is masked by the logic of cause and effect, which automatically
produces the form of an intrigue ending in a denouement. In
music the necessity appears in its purest form. There is no need
for finales to be less serious than first movements; or even, in
certain ways, less complex; but the attention which could be
aroused at the outset by problems must be maintained at the
end by something like a solution. Hence the use of the lighter
rondo forms, which, by dividing the work into shorter and more
distinct sections, make the development easier without unduly
limiting its range. Hence, also, the influence of rondo style
upon such finales as are cast in true sonata form; and hence,
lastly, the paradox that the fugue has occasionally been found
a possible means of expression for the finale of a dramatic sonata.
For the complexity of the fugue, though incessant, is purely a
complexity of texture, and the mind in following that texture
instinctively abandons any effort to follow the form at all,
finding repose in the change of its interests.
Now, just as within the typical scheme of first and second sub-
ject development and recapitulation in the first movement,
there is room for genius in the contrasting of different rhythms
and proportions, so, within the limits of the simple four-move-
ment scheme of the whole sonata is there room for genius in
the contrast of various types and degrees of organization. The
complete four-movement scheme seldom appears in works for
less than three instruments. Beethoven was the first to adopt it
for solo sonatas, and he soon thought fit to make omissions.
In Haydn's work for less than four instruments it was not even
necessary that the " sonata " form itself should be represented
at all. Its essential spirit could be realized in the melodic and
rhythmic freedom of a group or couple of more sectional move-
ments, nor did Beethoven (in Op. 26 and Op. 2 7, No. i) consider
such works unworthy of the name of sonata, or (in Op. 54)
incapable of expressing some of his most original ideas. No
design is known to pure instrumental music that is not possible
as a movement of a sonata, if it has the characteristic freedom
of rhythm and is not much over a quarter of an hour in length.
There is no form that has not been so applied; and, indeed, the
only instrumental form that has maintained a larger develop-
ment outside than inside the scheme of the sonata is that of
variations (q.v.).
As the scope and complexity of the sonata style grew, so did
the interdependence of its movements become more evident.
With Mozart and Haydn it is already vital, as we have seen in
the crucial case of Mozart's G minor quintet; but the differences
between one scheme and another are not remarkable until we
study them closely; and, except in key-relationship, it would be
difficult to trace anything more concrete than principles of con-
trast as interacting between one movement and another. But
Beethoven's dramatic power finds as free expression in the
contrasts between whole movements as it finds within the move-
ments themselves. In his later works, the increase in harmonic
39*
SONATA FORMS
range, with the consequent prominence of remoter key-relation-
ships, necessitating the dwelling on these keys at greater length
causes the key-system of each movement to react on the others
to an extent that would be purposeless in the art of Haydn and
Mozart. Thus in the B flat trio, Op. 97, we find such remote
keys as G major, D flat and D major placed in positions of great
functional importance, until we come to the finale, which keeps
us in suspense by its very low and quiet key-colour, contrasting
so oddly with its bacchanalian temper. But when the whole
main body of this finale has passed before us in the drab colours
of tonic, dominant and sub-dominant, the coda marvellously
explains everything by opening with an enharmonic modulation
to the most distant key yet attained except as a transitory
modulation.
As Beethoven proceeded, his growing sense of the functional
expression of musical forms enabled him to modify and strengthen
them until their interaction was as free as its principles were
exact. In the C sharp minor quartet (Op. 131) the opening fugue
is functionally an enormously developed introduction. The
following allegro, in the startling key of D major, the " arti-
ficial " flat supertonic, is a first movement, with its development
suppressed, and with certain elements of rondo style as a neces-
sary contrast to the preceding fugue. The startling effect
produced by this key of D major necessitates a simple and
limited key-system within the movement itself, thus accounting
for the absence of a development. The remaining movements
fall into their place among the keys that lie between the keys
of D major and C sharp minor. Thus the slow movement (to
which the brief allegro moderato forms a dramatic introduction)
is a great set of variations in A major, and the strictness of its
variation form allows no change of key until the two brilliant
bursts of remoter harmony, F and C, in the coda. Then follows
a scherzo of extremely simple design, in E major, with a small
part of its trio in A. A short introduction in G sharp minor,
the dominant, completes the circle of related keys and leads to the
finale which (though cast in a compound of rondo and sonata
form that would allow it a free range of modulation) contents
itself with very simple changes, until towards the end, where it
systematically demonstrates the exact relationship of that first
surprising key of D major to C sharp minor.
4. The Unity of the Sonata. — The gigantic emotional range
of Beethoven's work is- beyond the scope of technical discussion,
except in so far as the technical devices themselves suggest
their emotional possibilities. The struggle between decadence
and reaction since the time of Beethoven indicates on the one
side the desire to rival or surpass Beethoven in emotional
expression without developing the necessary artistic resources;
and, on the other side, a tendency to regard form as a scheme
which the artist first sets up and then fills out with material.
Early in the ipth century these tendencies gave rise to
controversies which are not yet settled; and before we discuss
what has taken place since Beethoven we must consider the
connexion between sonata movements in a last new light.
Historical views of art are apt to be too exclusively progressive
and to regard higher and lower degrees of organization in an
art-form as differing like truth and falsehood. But in trying
to prove that the megatherium could not survive under present
conditions, we must beware of arguing that it never existed; nor
must we cite the fact that man is a higher organism in order
to argue that a jelly-fish is neither organic nor alive. Organiza-
tion in art, as elsewhere, may be alive and healthy in its lowest
forms. The uniformity of key in the suite forms is low organiza-
tion; but it is not inorganic until a mild seeker after novelty,
like A. G. Muffat, tries to introduce more keys than it will hold.
The interdependence of movements in Haydn and Mozart is not
such high organization as the ideal form of the future, in which
there is no more breaking up of large instrumental works into
separate movements at all; but neither is it a mere survival
from the decorative contrasts of the suite. Evolutionists must
not forget that in art, as in nature, the survival of the fit means
the adaptability to environment. And the immortal works of
art bring their proper environment with them into later ages.
The large instrumental forms have, until recent times, remained
grouped into sonata movements, because their expression is so
concentrated and their motion so swift that they cannot,
within the limits of a single design, give the mind time to dwell
on the larger contrasts they themselves imply. Thus, in the
" Sonata Appassionata," the contrast between the first subject
and the main theme of the second is magnificent; but that calm
second theme lasts just the third part of a minute before it
breaks off. Now, though the third part of a minute bears about
the same proportion to the whole design as five hundred lines
does to the design of Paradise Lost; though, moreover, this
theme recurs three times later on, once in an exact recapitulation,
and twice transformed in terribly tragic climaxes; yet the mind
refuses to be whirled in less than ten minutes through a musical
tragedy of such Shakespearian power without opportunity for
repose in a larger scheme of contrasts than any attainable by
the perfection and breadth of the single design within these
limits. Hence the need for the following slow set of variations
on an intensely quiet tune, which, by its rigorous confinement to
the tonic of a nearly related key, its perfect squareness of rhythm,
and the absolute simplicity and strictness of its variations,
reveals the true pathos of the first movement by contrast with
its own awful repose; until its last chord, the first in a new key,
falls like a stroke of fate, and carries us headlong into the torrent
of a finale in which nothing dares oppose itself to those sublime
forces that make the terror of tragedy more beautiful than any
mere appeal for sympathy. Thus the dramatic interdependence
of sonata movements is very strict. Yet the treatment by each
movement of its own thematic material is so complete that there
is little or no scope for one movement to make use of the themes
of another. Such instances as may be suspected in Beethoven's
later works (for example, the similarity of opening themes in
various movements of the sonatas, Op. 106 * and Op. no) are
too subtle to be felt more than subconsciously; while the device
of clearly quoting an earlier movement occurs only in three
intensely dramatic situations (the introductions to the finales in
Op. 101, the violoncello sonata, Op. 102, No. i, and the gth
symphony) where its whole point is that of a surprise.
5. The Sonata since Beethoven. — It is unlikely that really vital
sonata work will ever be based on a kind of Wagnerian Leit-
motif system, until the whole character of instrumental form
shall have attained the state of things in which the move-
ments are not separated at all. There has been no ambitious
or " progressive " composer since Beethoven who has not,
almost as a matter of etiquette, introduced the ghosts of his
earlier movements into his finale, and defended the procedure
as the legitimate consequence of Beethoven's Op. 101. But,
while there is no a priori reason for condemning such devices,
they illustrate no principle, new or old. The nearest approach
to some such principle is furnished once by Schumann, who
always ingeniously adapts the outward forms of the sonata to
his own peculiar style of epigrammatic and antithetic expression,
discarding as beyond his scope the finer aspects of freedom and
continuity of rhythm, and constructing works which bear much
the same relation to the classical sonata as an elaborate mosaic
bears to an easel-picture. Dealing thus with a looser and more
artificial typeof organization, Schumann was ablein his D minor
symphony to construct a large work in which the movements are
thermatically connected to an extent which in more highly organ-
ized works would appear like poverty of invention, but which
here furnishes a rich source of interest. Many other experi-
ments have been tried since Beethoven, by composers whose
easy mastery is that of the artist who, from long practice in
putting material into a ready-made form, becomes interested
in the construction of new ready-made forms into which he can
continue to put the same material. A sense of beauty is not a
thing to be despised, even in pseudo-classical art; and neither
the many beautiful, if mannered, works of Spohr, which disguise
one stereotyped form in a bewildering variety of instrumental
1 In Op. 106 the first two notes of the slow movement were an
afterthought added (as Beethoven told his publisher) for the purpose
of producing such a connexion.
SONCINO— SONE
399
and literary externals, nor the far more important and essentially
varied works of Mendelssohn deserve the contempt which has
been the modern correction for their high position in their day.
But we must not forget that the subject of sonata forms is no mere
province, but covers the whole of classical instrumental music;
and we must here pay attention only to the broadest essentials
of its central classics, mentioning what diverges from them only
in order to illustrate them. Schubert's tendencies are highly
interesting, but it would carry us too far to attempt to add to
what is said of them in the articles on Music and SCHUBERT.
The last great master of the sonata style is Brahms. A larger
scale and more dramatic scope than Beethoven's seems unattain-
able within the limits of any music identifiable with the classical
forms; and the new developments of Brahms lie too deep for
more than a bare suggestion of their scope here. Much of the
light that can as yet be shed upon them will come through the
study of Counterpoint and Contrapuntal Forms (q.v.).
Outwardly we may see a further evolution of the co-
herence of the key-system of works as wholes; and we may
especially notice how Brahms's modern use of key-relationships
makes him carry on the development of a first movement
rather in a single remote key (or group of keys) than in an
incessant flow of modulations which, unless worked out on an
enormous scale (as in the 2nd and 4th symphonies), will no
longer present vivid enough colours to contrast with those of
the exposition. Beethoven's last works already show this
tendency to confine the development to one region of key.
Another point, fairly easy of analysis, is Brahms's unlimited new
resources in the transformation of themes. Illustrations of this,
as of older principles of thematic development, may be found in
musical type in the article MELODY (examples 8-10). But no
mere formal analysis or argument will go further to explain the
greatness of Brahms than to explain that of Beethoven, Haydn
or Mozart. Yet by that outward sign of dramatic mastery in
the true sonata style, that variety of rhythmic motion which we
have taken as our criterion, Brahms has not only shown in every
work his kinship with Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, but in
one particular work he has given us documentary evidence of his
faith in it. In his last years he revised, or rather recomposed,
his first piece of chamber music, the trio in B major, Op. 8. The
new material differs from the old, not only as a fresh creative
impulse, but also in the simple fact that it moves literally four
times as fast. Such rapidity is not shown by any external
display of energy; indeed there is incomparably more repose in
the new version than in the old. But the comparison of the
two clearly demonstrates that the true sonata style is, now, as
at the outset, primarily a matter of swift action and rhythmic
variety; and nothing more certainly indicates the difference
between the true style and the lifelessness of decadence or
academicism than this sense of motion and proportion.
In so far as the tendencies of modern instrumental music
represent an artistic ideal which is foreign to that of the sonata
without being false, they represent a different type of motion,
wider in its sweep, and consequently slower in its steps. The
forms such a motion will produce may owe much to the sonata
when they are realized, but they will certainly be beyond
recognition different. In all probability they constitute the
almost unconscious aims of the writers of symphonic poems (q.v.)
from Liszt onwards, just as the classical sonata constituted the
half-conscious aim of more than one quaint writer of i8th-
century programme-music. But the growing importance and
maturity of the symphonic poem does not exclude the continued
development of the sonata forms, nor has it so far realized
sufficient consistency and independence of style to take as high
a place in a sound artistic consciousness. The wider sweep of
what we may conveniently call " ultra-symphonic " rhythm
owes its origin to Wagner's life-work, which consisted in evolving
it as the only musical medium by which opera could be emanci-
pated from the necessity of keeping step with instrumental
music. Small wonder, then, that the new art of our time is as
yet, like that of Haydn's youth, stage-struck; and that all our
popular criteria suffer from the same obsession. One thing is
certain, that there is more artistic value and vitality in a sym-
phonic poem which, whatever its defects of taste, moves at the
new pace and embodies, however imperfectly, such forms as that
pace is fit for, than in any number of works in which the sonata
form appears as a clumsy mould for ideas that belong to a different
mode of thought. If from the beginnings exemplified by the
symphonic poems of the present day a new art-form arises in
pure instrumental music that shall stand to the classical sonata
as the classical sonata stands to the suite, then we may expect a
new epoch no less glorious than that which seems to have closed
with Brahms. Until this aim is realized the sonata forms will
represent the highest and purest ideal of an art-form that music,
if not all art, has ever realized.
See also BEETHOVEN; CONCERTO; HARMONY; OVERTURE; RONDO;
SCHERZO; SERENADE; SYMPHONY; VARIATIONS. (D. F. T.)
SONCINO, a town of Lombardy, Italy, in the province of
Cremona, n m. E. of Crema by steam tramway, 282 ft. above
sea-level. Pop. (1901), 6150 (town); 8136 (commune). It
contains a handsome castle built in 1469-1475 for Galeazzo Maria
Sforza by Benedetto Terrini (cf. L. Beltrami, // Castello di
Soncino, Milan, i8qo). The town was the seat of a Hebrew
printing-press founded in 1472, but suppressed in 1597, when
the Jews were expelled from the duchy of Milan.
SONDERBUR6, a seaport and seaside resort of Germany, in
the Prussian province of Schleswig-Holstein, on the S.W. coast
of the island of Alsen, of which it is the chief town, and 17 m.
by steamboat N.E. from Flensburg. Pop. (1905), 7047. It is
connected with the mainland by a pontoon bridge, and has
a castle, now used as barracks, in the beautiful chapel of which
many members of the Sonderburg-Augustenburg line lie buried ;
a Lutheran church and a town hall. There is an excellent
harbour, and a considerable shipping trade is done. The town,
which existed in the middle of the i3th century, was burnt down
in 1864 during the assault by the Prussians upon the Duppler
trenches.
SONDERSHAUSEN, a town of Germany, capital of the
principality of Schwarzburg-Sondershausen, situated in a plain
37 m. by rail N. of Erfurt. Pop. (1905), 7383. It possesses a
castle, with natural history and antiquarian collections, and a
parish church (restored 1891), with the mausoleum (1892) of
the reigning princes. There are manufactures of woollens and
pins.
SONDRIO, a town of Lombardy, Italy, capital of the province
of Sondrio, in the Valtellina, 1140 ft. above sea-level, on the river
Adda, 26 m. E. of Lake Como and 82 m. by rail N.E. of Milan.
Pop. (1901), 4425 (town); 7707 (commune). The Valtellina, of
which Sondrio is the capital, produces a considerable quantity
of red wine. Sondrio also has silk-works. Above the town to
the north rise the snowclad peaks of the Bernina group. The
railway goes on to Tirano, 16 m. farther east, from which diverge
the Bernina and Stelvio roads.
SONE, or SON, a river of central India which has been identified
with the Erannoboas of the Greek geographers. With the
exception of the Jumna it is the chief tributary of the Ganges
on its right bank. It rises in the Amarkantak highlands about
3500 ft. above sea-level, the Nerbudda and Mahanadi also having
their sources in the same table-land. From this point it flows
north-west through an intricate mass of hills, until it strikes the
Kaimur range, which constitutes the southern wall of the
Gangetic plain. Here it turns east and continues in that direc-
tion until it falls into the Ganges about 10 m. above Patna, after
a total course of 465 m. Its upper waters drain about 300 m. of
wild hilly country, which has been imperfectly explored; while
in its lower section of 160 m. it traverses the British districts of
Mirzapur, Shahabad, Gaya and Patna. The Sone canals, fed
by the river, form a great system of irrigation in the province of
Behar. The headworks are situated at Dehri about 25 m. below
the point where the river leaves the hilly ground. The weir
across the Sone at this point is believed to be the longest con-
structed in a single unbroken piece of masonry, the length between
abutments being 12,469 ft. A main canal is taken off on either
bank of the river, and each of these is divided into branches.
400
SONG
according to the requirements of the ground. The system
consists of some 370 m. of canals and 1200 m. of distributaries,
irrigating 555,000 acres. The Sone canals were begun in 1869,
and came into operation in 1874; they form a valuable protection
to the rice crop of Behar.
SONG, either an actual " singing " performance, or in a
literary sense a short metrical composition adapted for singing
or actually set to music. In the second sense of the word it must
strictly be lyrical in its nature; but musicians and others fre-
quently use the word in the wider sense of any short poem set
to music. A " song," as a form of poem, usually turnsonsome
single thought or emotion, expressed subjectively in a number
of stanzas or strophes. Almost every nation is in possession
of an immense store of old simple ballads (q.v.), which are the
spontaneous outcome of the inspiration of the people (" folk-
songs "), and represent in a remarkable degree their tastes,
feelings and aspirations; but in addition to these, there are, of
course, the more finished and regular compositions born of the
conscious art of the civilized poet.
In a purely literary sense the song may exist, and does largely
exist, without any necessary accompaniment of music. With
the accession of Elizabeth the attention of the English poets
was immediately drawn to the importance of this branch of
lyrical literature. The miscellanies, one of which Master
Slender would have paid more than forty shillings to have in his
pocket on a celebrated occasion, were garlands of songs, most of
them a little rude in form, only mere " packets of bald rhymes."
But about 1590 the popularity of the song having greatly in-
creased, more skilful writers were attracted to its use, and the
famous England's Helicon of 1600 marked the hey-day of Eliza-
bethan song-writing. In this Shakespeare, Sidney, Lodge,
Barnfield and Greene, to name no others, were laid under
contribution. Lyly, with such exquisite numbers as " Cupid
and my Campaspe " (1584), had preceded the best anthologies,
and is really the earliest of the artist-songsters of England.
Among superb song-writers who followed were Marlowe (" Come
live with me and be my love"), Campion ("My sweetest Lesbia")
Ben Jonson ("Drink to me only with thine eyes") and Fletcher
(" Here ye Ladies, thatdepise "), most of these being dramatists,
who illuminated their plays, and added a delicate ornament
to them, by means of those exquisite lyrical interpolations.
Side by side with such poets, and a little later, began to flourish
the school of cavalier song-writers, for whose purpose the lyric
was self-sufficient. They added to our literature jewels of
perennial lustre — Wither, with his " Shall I wasting in despair,"
Herrick with " Bid me to live " and " Gather ye Rosebuds,"
Carew with " Ask me no more where June bestows," Waller with
" Go, lovely Rose," Suckling with " Why so pale and wan, fond
Lover?" and Lovelace with " Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind."
This was the classic age of the true British song, which survived
all other forms of poetry after the decay of taste, and continued
to flourish in the hands of Dryden, Sedley, Aphra Behn and
Rochester down to the last decade of the i8th century. That
outburst of song was followed by nearly a hundred years during
which the simplest and more direct forms of lyrical utterance
found comparatively little encouragement. Just before the
romantic revival the song reasserted its position in literature,
and achieved the most splendid successes in the hands of Burns,
who adapted to his purpose all kinds of fragmentary material
which had survived up to his time in the memories of rustic
persons. In Scotland, indeed, the song was rather revived and
adorned than resuscitated; in England it may be said to have
been recreated by Blake. At the opening of the igth century
it became the vehicle of some of the loveliest fancies and the
purest art of Coleridge, Keats, Shelley, Byron and Landor;
while in a later day songs of rare perfection were composed by
Tennyson and by Christina Rossetti. (E. G.)
Song in Music.
The history of song as a musical form falls into two main
divisions, the one belonging to the folk-song, the other to the
art-song. Though the line of demarcation between the two
cannot be definitely drawn, for they have acted and reacted upon
each other ever since music existed as a cultivated art, yet it
may reasonably be maintained that the folk-song, which lies
at the base of all music, preserves, and has in all ages preserved,
characteristics such as must always distinguish the rude and
unconscious products of the human mind, working more by
instinct than by method, from the polished and conscious pro-
ducts of the schools. For the purposes then of this article,
art-song may be distinguished from folk-song by the fact that it
is the work of trained musicians and is designed, at any rate
after the close of the i6th century, for voice with instrumental
accompaniment, whereas we shall restrict the term folk-song to
such melodies as appear to have been the work of untutored
minds, and to have arisen independently of any felt necessity for
harmonic support.
The early history of song on its musical side may be regarded
as the history of the evolution of melody: and since what is
known of melody before the end of the i6th century, apart
from the folk-song, is extremely slight, it is in the folk-song itself
that this evolution is primarily to be studied. Previously to the
period named the instrumental accompaniment to vocal melody,
both in the folk-song and in the art-song, played an entirely
insignificant part. Afterwards the new conception of harmony
which came in with the I7th century not only shifted the basis
of melody itself but made the instrumental accompaniment an
essential feature of artistic song. Though it lies beyond the
province of this article to discuss fully the complex questions
involved in the evolution of vocal melody, some slight sketch is a
necessary preliminary to a proper understanding of the subject
under consideration.
It may be assumed that in the course of ages the uncouth
vocal utterances of primitive man developed, under the influence
of an instinct for expressing his inner nature through Qrtolns
a more expressive medium than language alone, into
sounds of more or less definite pitch, bearing intelligible relation-
ships one to another; and that from these emerged short phrases,
in which rhythm probably played the principal part, reiterated
with that interminable persistency, which many travellers have
noted as characteristic of savage nations in the present day. A
further stage is reached when some such primitive phrase is
repeated at a different level by way of contrast and variety, but
melody in any true sense of the word does not begin till two
different phrases come to be combined in some sort of scheme or
pattern. When the power to produce such combinations become
common in a nation, its musical history may be said to have
begun .l Racial characteristics are displayed in the choice of notes
out of which such phrases are formed. But in all races it may be
surmised that the main determining cause in the first instance is
that natural rise and fall of the voice which gives expressiveness
and meaning to speech, even though contributory causes arising
from the imitative faculty common to man may perhaps be
admitted — such as the sound of the wind, the waves of the sea,
the cries of animals, the notes of birds, the striking of one object
against another, and finally the sounds made by primitive
instruments. The tendency of the speaking voice to fall a
fourth and to rise a fifth has often been noted. It is probable
that these intervals were among the first to be defined, and that
the many modes or scales, underlying the popular melodies of the
various nations of the world, were the result of different methods
1 If the one phrase is represented by A, and the other by B, the
commonest melodic schemes presented by the folk-songs of the
world may be viewed thus— AS, AAB, ABB, ABA, ABAB, AABB,
AABA, ABBA. Of these, those in which the opening phrase A is
repeated at the conclusion are the most satisfactory, for both instinct
and reason are gratified by a connexion between the beginning and
the end.
As exact conformity to pattern becomes wearisome and is alien
to the progressive instinct, the element of surprise is introduced into
the above schemes by various modifications of the repeated phrase
on its second appearance, or by the entrance of an entirely new
phrase C. In some fine melodies there is no repetition of phrase, a
number of different phrases being knit, by principles, which defy
analysis, into one structure. Such melodies imply a melodic sense
of an exceptional order. Many melodies involve more than four
phrases; of these the rondo form should be mentioned — ABA CAD A.
SONG
401
of determining the intervening sounds. It has been generally
assumed that the fall of a fourth is the interval earliest arrived
at by the instinct of the Indo-European race — and that inter-
vening sounds were added which resulted eventually in the three
possible forms of the diatonic tetrachord, the earliest being that
which is characteristic of the ancient Dorian mode or scale (the
basis of the Greek musical system) in which two tetrachords,
having the semitone between the lowest note and the next above
it, are superimposed (see Bourgault Ducoudray, Introduction to
jo Chansons de Grece et d' Orient).
It must, however, be remembered that the popular, instinct
knows nothing about tetrachords or scales, which are abstractions,
and only creates melodies, or at least successions of sounds, which
are the outward expression of inward feelings. The Greek
theorists therefore, in recording certain modes as being in use in
their day, were in effect merely stating results arrived at by
analysing popular melodies — and from the persistence with which
the Greeks, and following them, most of the musical historians
of Europe, have insisted upon a tetrachordal basis for the art of
music it may be assumed that in these melodies a basis of four
diatonic notes was a conspicuous feature.
It is a feature which marks a considerable number of folk-
songs heard in Greece at the present day, and also of many folk-
songs which are not Greek, the Breton, for example (see Bour-
gault Ducoudray, Chansons de Basse- Bretagne). The interval of
a fourth is nearly always prominent too in the music of savages.
If it is natural to connect these facts with the drop of a fourth,
characteristic of the speaking voice, it is dangerous to assume an
exclusively " tetrachordal period " of primitive song, at any rate
till it can be shown that melodies based on other principles did
not exist side by side with those that are tetrachordal. From
the rise of a fifth and the fall of a fourth, the octave, which
results from combining these intervals, may well have become
familiar at a very early epoch. Indeed a prolonged howl begin-
ning on a high note and descending a full octave in semitones — or
notes approximately resembling semitones — is recorded both of
the Caribs and of the natives of Australia, so that familiarity with
the octave need not presuppose an advanced stage of musical
development.
To pass from the sphere of mere speculation nearer to the
domain of history, it may be asserted with confidence that the
oldest form of song or chant which can be established is found
in certain recitation formulae. These, as is natural, will be found
to be derived from the rise and fall of the voice in speech. It is
therefore not surprising that O. Fleischer (Sammelbiinde der
inlernationalen Musik-Gesellschaft, Jan.-Mar. 1902) is able to
trace practically identical formulae in the traditional methods
of reciting the Vedas, the Koran, the Jewish and Christian
liturgies. The simplest form consists of four notes (a diatonic
tetrachord), a reciting note, preceded by two notes rising to it,
and followed by a fall, or cadence, for the close, the voice rising
above the reciting note in order to emphasize important words,
or according to the nature of the sentence. An extended form
is both natural and common.
3=1=
The influence of these and similar formulae l upon popular
melodies can be illustrated by countless examples (for which
1 The derivation of such formulae from more primitive incan-
tations of magicians and medicine-men is a possible and plausible
theory (see J. Combarieu, La Musique: ses lois et son Evolution,
Paris, 1907).
the reader is referred to I.M.G.). As characteristic as any is
the melody of the Christian hyntn which begins
Te lu - cis an - te ter -
mi - num,
and concludes
Sis prae-sul et cus - to - di - a.
Another is the Hungarian folk-song: Nem Szoktam.
Many French songs have been collected in recent years, of which
the following formula, or variations of it, form an essential
feature: —
This corresponds closely with the third example given above.
That the melodies in question are of great antiquity may be
inferred from the fact that they are almost confined to the oldest
class of folk-song, that which celebrates May Day and the begin-
ning of spring. M. Tiersot (La Chanson populaire en France,
Paris, 1889) plausibly finds in them a survival of a melodic
fragment, which may have belonged to pagan hymns in honour
of spring, basing his supposition upon the fact that the phrase
in question occurs in the melody of the Easter hymn " O Filii
et Filiae." The medieval Church, acting on principles familiar
in all ages, may well have helped to merge a pagan in a Christian
festival by adopting, not merely old rites and observances, but
the actual melody with which these had for ages been associated.
A similar survival in French folk-song is that of the melody of the
Tonus peregrinus, the chant used for the psalm " When Israel
came out of Egypt " (mentioned in the 9th century by Aurelian
Reome as being very old). Its appearance, like that of the
Easter hymn, in songs, which on other grounds can be proved to
be of great antiquity, points to the probability of its being of
popular origin. It also bears equally strong marks of being
derived from a recitation formula, as indeed its appropriation
for chanting a psalm sufficiently indicates.
Endeavours to detach other primitive formulae from the
popular melodies in which they are enshrined form a branch of
folk-lore now being actively pursued. It may be hoped that
" comparative melodology " — if the phrase may be coined — will
do for this department of musical knowledge what the science
of comparative philology has done for language. Oscar Fleischer
(I.M.G. i. i) has endeavoured to trace the history in Europe of
the primitive phrases belonging to the melody of " Les Series "
(or Unus est Deus) as given by De Villemarque in Barzaz-Breiz
402
SONG
No. i, in the musical appendix, as also of the opening phrase in
the old Christian hymn, " Conditor alme siderum " (attributed to
Bishop Ambrose): —
The phrase here belongs to a melody in the Phrygian mode, but
when it is used in major melodies its characteristic notes are
those of the common chord, with a rise to the sixth at the point of
climax, corresponding to the rise in the recitation formulae
given above.
By what processes the notes of the common chord became
universally established it is not possible to determine, but it
may be said in a general way that the reference to a given tonic
was felt in all ages to be a necessary condition even of the
simplest melody, and that, as the melodic instinct grew, an almost
equal necessity was found for a point of contrast, and that this
point of contrast became with most nations of Aryan origin the
fifth note above the tonic, at any rate in the more popular scales.
Combarieu (La Musique, p. 121) observes that we owe the use of
the octave, the fifth and the fourth to the South and East, but
that the importance of the third in our modern musical system
is due to the instinctive genius of the West and North, i.e. to
England and Scandinavia (see also Hugo Riemann, Geschichte
der Musiktheorie, Leipzig, 1898, and Wooldridge, Oxford History
of Music, i. 161-162, where the well-known quotation from
Giraldus Cambriensis, or Gerald Barry, of the i2th century,
establishing the fact of part-singing in England, is given). If,
as has been shown, the origin of many melodies can be traced to
formulae originally used for chanting or reciting, it must not be
forgotten that formulae thus derived assume very different
characters under the influence of more decided rhythms than that
of speech. To accompany bodily movements (which by a natural
law become rhythmical when often repeated) with music, vocal
or instrumental, is an almost universal human instinct, whether
to alleviate the burden or the monotony of labour, as in rowing,
sowing, spinning, hammering and a score of other pursuits, or to
promote pleasure and excitement, as in the dance.
It is unsafe to infer, as some have done, from the custom,
known in all ages, of dancing and singing at the same time,
that song arose as a mere accessory to the dance. It is more
probable that the dance has its origin in the mimetic actions,
which are the natural accompaniment of rudimentary song. At
the same time, no one will deny that races with ballads of their
own early made use of them for the dance, and that, especially
on the rhythmical side, melody owes to the dance an incalculable
debt.1
It may be assumed then that upon some such basis as has
been roughly indicated the different nations of the world have
develo'ped each their own musical phraseology, emanating from
and answering to their several needs and temperaments and that
the short melodic phrases, out of which folk-tunes are made, have
their roots in a past as distant as that in which the elements of
language were formed, and that the popular instinct which
through countless ages has diversified those forms and arranged
them into melodies, whose constructions are mostly susceptible
to analysis, is the same instinct as that which has given to
language its grammar and its syntax.
In proceeding now to the actual history of song in Europe,
it must be remembered that it is inseparably connected with
History of poetry. Melody till within comparatively recent
Song la times continued to fulfil its original function of
Europe. enhancing the value and expressiveness of language.
For poetry of the epic kind with the long lines common to early
European peoples, some such forms of chanting as have been
indicated must have sufficed.
1 For the growth of the refrain from communal dancing and
singing, see C. J. Sharp, English Folk-Songs, p. 93. Nor should the
association of dancing with all primitive religious ceremonies be
forgotten — see K. J. Freeman, Schools of Hellas (1907).
Melody, as we understand it, with compact form and balanced
phrases, could only have existed if and when the same qualities
appeared in popular poetry. This was probably the case long
before the taste for long epic narratives began to disappear in
favour of more concise forms of ballad and of lyric. The stanza
form must have been generally familiar in the early middle ages
from the Latin hymns of the Church, and these hymns themselves
are likely to have been formed, in part at any rate, on models
which were already known and popular.
We have definite information that in the early middle ages two
sorts of popular poetry existed — the historical ballads (descen-
dants of those alluded to by Tacitus in his Germania
as characteristic of the Germans, and as constituting sons-""
their only historical records), and popular songs of a
character which caused them to be described as cantica nefaria
by St Augustine; the council of Agde (506) forbade Christians to
frequent assemblies where they were sung: St Cesaire, bishop
of Aries, speaks of the chants diaboliques sung by country
folk, both men and women; the Council of Chalons menaced the
women, who seem to have been the chief offenders, with excom-
munication and whipping; lastly Charlemagne, whose love for
the better class of song is attested by the fact that he ordered a
collection of them to be made for his own use, said of the other
" canticum turpe et luxuriosum circa ecclesias agereomnino,quod
et ubique vitandum est." Beyond the fact of their existence we
know nothing of these songs of the early middle ages. Their
influence on the popular mind was vigorously resisted, as we
have seen, by the Church, and for many centuries efforts were
made to supplant them by songs, the subjects of which were
taken from the Gospel narratives and the lives of the saints,
so that folk-song and church song strove together for popularity.
Doubtless the church song borrowed musical elements from its
rival: nor was the folk-song uninfluenced in its turn by the tradi-
tional music of the Church. In considering this latter music,
it is important to distinguish between the melodies adapted to
the prose portions of the ritual without definite rhythm, and those
of the hymns, where the metre of the Latin verses and their
stanza form necessitated a corresponding rhythm and musical
form. Rhythm in music, which has its origin and counterpart in
the regular bodily movements involved in various departments
of labour and in the dance, must, as has already been said, have
always been an essential feature of popular melody, and it is
reasonable to conclude from its absence in the plain-song, and
indeed for many centuries in the compositions of musicians, which
had the plain-song for their basis, that these hymns, which repre-
sented the popular part of the Church services, were also repre-
sentative of the popular tastes of the time. In all ages the Church
has drawn largely from popular song for the melodies of its
hymns. It is moreover in the highest degree improbable that
the Church should have been able to evolve out of its inner
consciousness, without pre-existing models, a melody — to take
a single instance — like that of " Conditor alme siderum " — the
survival of which in innumerable European folk-songs has
already been alluded to.
Numerous additions to the store of plain-song melodies were
made by the monastic composers of the middle ages- the most
notable is that of the Dies Irae, of which the words are attributed
to Thomas de Celano (d. 1250).
Reference should also be made to the music of the liturgical
dramas or mysteries, popular in medieval times: The Lamentation
of Rachel, The Wise and Foolish Virgins and The Prophets of
Christ, are given, both text and music, in Coussemaker's L'Har-
monie au moyen dgc. They reflect the severe style of the plain-
song, and were probably intended for cultivated rather than
popular audiences. The same is probably true of the secular
songs quoted in the same work. These have a special interest
as being the earliest specimens of song which have come down to
us in Christian times. The best known is the " Complainte," on
the death of Charlemagne (quoted in many histories), the digni-
fied, if somewhat dreary, melody of which revolves mostly on the
first three notes of a major scale, once rising to the fourth (thus
recalling the old recitation formula). Rhythm is practically
SONG
403
absent. On the other hand, the song in honour of Otto III. has
definite rhythm and a degree of tunefulness. The " modus
Ottino " was a well-known air, which, unlike the rest of those
quoted by Coussemaker, was probably of popular origin, for the
Latin words do not fit the melody and probably represent a free
translation from an original in the vernacular tongue.1
Modus Ottinc.
i
3
nus Cae - sar Ot - to, quern hie mo - dus
re - fert, in no - mi - ne Ot - tine die - tus, quadam
noc - te mem-bra su - a dum col- lo- cat Pa - la - ti - i
V
ca - su su - bi - to in - flam - ma - tur.
(12 more stanias.)
More remarkable still is a "Chanson de Table" of the loth
century, a really graceful melody, the quotation of which may
serve to destroy the illusion that the major scale, so often
described as modern, has any other claim to the title than the
fact that it has been preserved by modern musicians, while
others have been discarded.
Jam, dul-cis a - mi - ca, ve - ni - to, quam si-cut cor
In-tra in cu - bi - cu-luni
me-um, or- na-men-tis cunc - tis or - na -turn.
In the same collection may be found, beside other historical
songs, two odes of Boethius and two odes of Horace, set to
music;2 but whether the melodies given represent medieval
music or Roman music, corrupted or not, it is impossible to
determine. These songs have been dwelt upon, for they not
only represent some kinds of music that were sung in the gth and
loth centuries, but indicate the sources from which later on the
work of the troubadours was derived. They may be summed
up as a church-song and folk-song, and the songs by more or less
cultured persons made after these models. For the subsequent
history of the art the folk-song represents by far the most potent
influence, but the melodies quoted by Coussemaker which might
be regarded as the works of the popular instinct afford in-
sufficient data for safe generalization. More direct evidence is to
be found in the 12th-century pastoral play — Le Jeu de Robin
ct de Marion, till within recent years considered as the work of
Adam de la Hale, but since the able criticisms of M. Tiersot in
the work referred to above, likely henceforth to be regarded as
1 This melody, which is plainly derived from recitation, with A
as tonus carrens, closely resembles that of Ljomur, a folk-song of
the I-aeroe islanders, noted by H. Thuren in 1902 and identified by
him with a piece of recitation (" Fili care ") from a 12th-century
Drame liturgique " (deciphered by O. Fleischer, Neumensludien,
A p; 25>- . See Folkesangenpaa Farperne, H. Thuren (Copenhagen,
1908). Identity of style between a popular song of the gth century
a drame liturgique of the I2th and a folk-song still sung in the 2oth
is sumciently striking — especially in view of the fact that in the
,croe ' slands instrumental music is practically unknown.
Lord Ashburnham has a Virgil of the loth century, " dans
lequel les discours directs de 1'Eneide sont accompagne's de notations
musicales" (Coussemaker).
the oldest collection of folk-songs in existence; for the original
compositions which Maitre Adam has bequeathed to posterity
preclude us from believing that he could have originated the
dainty airs contained in that play, of which Robin m'aime
is generally familiar, and is still to be heard on the lips of peasants
in the north of France (see Tiersot, p. 424, n.). If M. Tiersot's
view is correct, the melodies in Robin et Marion may be taken
to represent the popular style of an epoch considerably anterior
to the date of the play itself (though allowance must be made for
the correcting hand of a professional musician) which is our
excuse for introducing them at this place.
Before speaking of the songs of troubadours, trouveres and
minnesingers, allusion must be made to a class of men who
played a part the importance of which both in the social and
political life of the middle ages is attested by innumerable
chroniclers and poets, viz. the skalds, bards or minstrels— the
chief depositories of the musical and poetical traditions of the
several countries to which they belonged. They varied greatly
in rank. Some were attached to the retinue of kings and nobles,
whilst others catered for the ear of the peasantry (eventually
to be classed with jugglers, acrobats, bearwards and the like,
sharing the unenviable reputation which attached to these
representatives of popular medieval amusements). That these
latter were also welcome at the halls of the great, is an estab-
lished fact, which may serve as a reminder that in feudal times
the distinction that now exists, bet ween the music of the culti-
vated classes and of the peasantry was but slight. The style
of the church music was as universally familiar as the style of
the folk-song. For musicians, both of high and low degree, no
other models existed. This fact is patently clear when the songs
of the troubadours, trouveres and minnesingers are studied.
Those minstrels continued the traditions of the better class of
their predecessors, with strivings after a more polished, elaborate
and artistic style. In forming their style upon an admixture of
folk-song and church-song they in fact assimilated neither, and
created a mongrel product without real vitality — a product that
left practically no mark upon the subsequent development of the
art. The astonishing skill which they exhibited in adapting
the language of poetry to the most complicated metrical forms
deserted them when they touched the question of musical form
and of melody. Indeed their music, except in rare instances,
was an adornment which the poetry could have dispensed with,
and may be regarded in the main simply as a concession to the
immemorial custom of treating music and poetry as inseparable
arts.
The real importance of these courtly minstrels in the history
of song consists in their having firmly established the rhyming
stanza as the vehicle for the expression of lyrical feeling, for
with the rhyming stanza a corresponding compact and sym-
metrical melodic form was bound to come. It was, however,
reserved for the popular instinct, and not for trouveres and
minnesingers, to develop this form (it is probable too that some
at least of the stanza forms employed belonged first to popular
poetry and were afterwards developed and elaborated by these
musicians of the great houses). The scheme upon which the
lyrical stanza was usually based was one in which two similar
parts (called by the German Meister -singers, Stollen or props,
and constituting the Aufgesang or opening song) were followed
by an independent third part, the length of which was not
prescribed (called Abgesang or concluding song). The
complete stanza was called Lied and was knit together by
different schemes of rhyme. For the first part the trouveres
and Meister singers were content with some simple phrase, often
borrowed direct from the folk-song, repeating it, as was natural,
for the exactly similar second part: then for the third the
style was apt to change towards the ecclesiastical and to wander
aimlessly on to an unconvincing conclusion. The popular in-
stinct was finer, for we find in innumerable folk-songs, belonging
to the i4th and i$th centuries, that the greater length of the
Abgesang was seized upon as an opportunity, not merely for
introducing fresh material, after the repetition of the phrase
attached to the two Stollen, but also for a rcMirn to that phrase,
404
SONG
or some reminiscence or variation of it, by way of conclusion,
thus producing a compact form, answering to the natural
requirements of the artistic sense. Thus the favourite scheme
of the troubadours, which may be represented as AAB, had
developed in the folk-song into the scheme AABA — and this
scheme has served for thousands of popular melodies throughout
Europe. In some rare cases the contrasting portion might be
conceived as implying modulation into the key of the dominant,
thus foreshadowing the form of the first movement in modern
sonatas and symphonies.1 But the present writer is sceptical,
from the evidence afforded by folk-song melodies recently
collected, of an instinct for modulation among a peasantry
unfamiliar with harmonic music. Be that as it may, the courtly
minstrels both of France and Germany rendered a real service
to music in following the popular verdict in favour of the major
scale or Ionian mode, and in so doing prepared the way for modern
harmony, which is based upon a particular relationship of
contrast between the notes composing the chord of the tonic
and those composing the chords of the dominant and the sub-
dominant— a relationship inherent in no other scale of the
Gregorian system but the Ionian. On it the secret of musical
form in the modern sense depends, for it brings with it the power
of modulation (unknown to medieval times), i.e. the power of
treating the same note as belonging to different tone centres
(G, for instance, as the dominant of the scale of C, and also as
the tonic of the scale of G), and the further power, by means of
the chord of the dominant seventh, of proceeding from one
tone centre to another. As long then as musicians held the
Ionian scale at arm's length, progress in the modern direction
was impossible. They did indeed arrive eventually at the goal,
partly through the practice of using popular melodies as the
foundation, or canto fermo, of masses and motets, and of arrang-
ing the melodies themselves for choirs of voices, and also through
the increasing need, as the art of part-writing became more
elaborate and better understood, of modifying the strict char-
acter of the modes by the introduction of accidentals, till, as
Sir Hubert Parry remarks, " after centuries of gradual and
cautious progress they ultimately completed a scale which they
had known all along, but had rather looked down upon as an
inferior specimen of its kind." The melodic instinct, thus
developing consciously in the minds of trained musicians, and
unconsciously in the makers of folk-songs, arrived eventually
at the same result. But the major scale once firmly estab-
lished, the trained musician based upon it a new art of harmony;
further, he modified existing minor scales for harmonic purposes,
leaving the old traditional scales as the almost exclusive posses-
sion of the folk-song (which has cherished and preserved them
in their pristine integrity up to the present day) and working
out the problem of musical composition, and of melody itself,
on a new foundation.2
The fall of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, and the troublous
times that ensued in Europe, involved the removal of the
patronage to which the higher kinds of minstrelsy owed their
position and their influence. Song passed with the close of
the age of chivalry from the noble to the burgher class. The
Minnesingers were succeeded by the Meister singers, the first
gild of whom is said to have been established in 1311 by Heinrich
von Meissen (popularly known as Frauenlob) at Mainz. In
their hands song was treated more in the spirit of a trade than
an art, and subjected to many absurd and pedantic regulations.
In Wagner's famous opera is given a very accurate and faithful
1 For examples see Bohme, Altdeutsches Liederbuch, Nos. 131
and 195.
! Modal folk-song melodies are often tested by their conformity
or otherwise to the modes as known from medieval composers.
This is to limit our conception of natural forces by the use made of
them by a few men at a particular epoch for special purposes. If a
mode can be said to exist for a purpose, that purpose is melody : to
apply to modal folk-melodies the canons laid down by composers
with whom melody was a quantite negligeable is sheer perversity.
Recent discoveries in the field of folk-song place us in a far better
position for understanding the true nature of the modes than
medieval composers : for in the folk-song their free development has
not been hampered by restrictions, which were a necessary condition
of polyphonic work.
picture of their methods and ideals. Their importance in the
history of song consists not so much in actual work achieved
as in the enthusiasm widely spread through their means in the
class from which most of the great German composers were
eventually to spring.
The real interest for the historian of song centres during this
period not in the attempts of minstrels and burgher gilds to
improve upon the folk-song, but in the folk-song itself. Those
who have studied the large collection of medieval melodies
contained in Bohme's Altdeutsches Liederbuch for Germany,
and in Duyse's Het oude Nederlandshe Lied for the Nether-
lands, will on other grounds than those mentioned above be
ready to confirm this judgment. It is not too much to say
that they contain many of the noblest melodies which the
world possesses, earnest and dignified in spirit, broad of outline,
and knit together in all their parts with rare and unconscious
art, on principles of structure which are carefully analysed in
the chapter on folk-song in Sir Hubert Parry's The Art of Music.
To the examples there quoted may.be added the wonderful
Tagelied (" Der Dag wil nict verborghen sin"), Ik sek adieu,
Lieblich hab sich gesellet, Abschied von Innspruck (of which both
Bach and Mozart are reported to have said that they would
rather have been the author than of any of their own composi-
tions), and " Entlaubet ist der Walde " (which, like so many of
the p*opular songs of the I4th and isth centuries, was utilized
by the Reformers for one of their finest hymns).
A characteristic feature of many of these songs, both German
and Dutch, is the melisma, or vocal flourish, of the concluding
phrase, derived, if German historians are to be trusted, from
the vocalization on the last syllable of the word Alleluia, which
in the early Church represented the congregational portion of
its services and which afterwards developed into the sequences,
so popular in the middle ages.
A similar feature is not uncommon in French melodies of
the same period (see L' Amour de moi, Vrai Dieu d'amour, and
Reveillez-wus, Piccars, in Chansons du xV siecle, by Gaston
Paris and Gevaert, Paris, 1875). If the charming English
song " The Nightingale " (Medieval and Plainsong Society) is
of popular origin, it may serve as an indication that these
melismata were also common in England (cf. also " Ah! the
sighs that come from my heart," which belongs to the reign of
Henry VIII.).
It is in the highest degree unfortunate that no collections
were made of English popular songs of the middle ages: every-
thing points to the fact that quantities of them existed. The
importance of song in the social life of every class is attested by
all the chroniclers and poets. An age that produced " Sumer
is a cumin in " (1240) must have been prolific of melody. It is
impossible to regard it as an isolated phenomenon. The beauty
of songs by early composers, and of others, which are possibly
of popular origin, met with in the reigns of Henry VII.,
Henry VIII., Edward VI. and Elizabeth (see Wooldridge's
edition of Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time) argue a
great and healthy activity in the preceding centuries. It is
sufficient to mention Morley's " It was a lover and his lass "
and " O Mistress mine," or " The Three Ravens," which though
it first appeared in print in 1611 is undoubtedly a folk-song
belonging to a much earlier period (for versions still to be heard
see Kidson's Traditional Times). The same is probably true
of " A poor soul sat sighing " and many others. It is to be
remarked, however, that printed versions of popular songs can
seldom be relied upon as faithfully representing their original
form, or even the form in which they were sung at a particular
epoch. Editors have seldom resisted the temptation of tamper-
ing with popular airs, if by so doing they can render them more
attractive to polite tastes. Within recent years, however,
the collection and publication of folk-songs has been undertaken
in a different spirit — and it is possible in most countries to
study the folk-songs in versions which have been taken direct
from the lips of the peasantry and are presented without editorial
alterations. The question as to the propriety of such alterations,
or the larger question of what is suitable in the way of
SONG
405
instrumental accompaniment, need not be discussed here more
than to point out that the strictly scientific point of view
— which seeks to understand the folk-song in its native
simplicity — should not be mixed up with that of the artist
who aims at adding to the world's store of beautiful music.
It is to be deplored that the English composers of the i5th
and 1 6th centuries did not follow the example of Dutch, German
and French musicians, who utilized popular melodies as the
foundation or canto fermo of their masses and motets (one
example only is known, " O Westron Wynde ") and also arrange
them in parts for music-loving circles (to a limited extent this
appears to have been done in England, e.g. the Freemen's
Songs in Deuteromela) . But in England, as in other European
countries, survivals of medieval melodies are still to be found
among the peasantry in quantities which vary according to
the degree in which modern music has penetrated to country
districts. In Germany, for instance, where musical culture
has been most widely spread, the medieval folk-song, according
to Herr Bohme, is no longer heard; it is possible, however, that
this statement may be contradicted or modified, if the same
systematic search for the Germanic folk-song, which has been
made recently in France, England and elsewhere, is undertaken
before it is too late. Melodies formed by composers under the
principles of modern harmonic music have largely usurped their
place.1
The folk-song is eventually killed by the products of the
musical manufactories of the town. The peasantry provided
with songs from outside is relieved from the necessity of pro-
viding for its own needs, or of cherishing with the love of earlier
times its own traditional inheritance. It is true that for many
centuries numbers of composed songs have found their way into
the popular repertory and have there undergone in many in-
stances transformations which serve as a complete disguise to their
real origin: but in general a fine ear can detect these intruders.
Fcr even when they have suffered change or transformation
in passing through a new environment the stamp of an individual
or a period remains, whereas the folk-song of tradition is the
work not of one age, but of many, not of the individual, but the
collective mind. For songs made by uncultivated persons,
and passed on to others without the aid of writing or of printing,
soon lose in the course of oral transmission even such traces
of individual authorship as they may once have possessed.
Moreover the makers of folk-songs are concerned with nothing
so little as the assertion of their own individuality. They
know that it is the most familiar that is the most acceptable.
Novelty has no charms for themselves or their audiences.
Instinct as well as policy keep them to recognized types and
formulae; and the innumerable variations which these undergo
from age to age are probably far more frequently due to
lapses of memory than to capacity for invention. Major tunes
inadvertently sung in minor modes, or vice versa, or the accidental
application of a tune to verses, for which it was not originally
intended, give rise in many cases to practically new melodies.
Though an author might be named, if it were possible to know
the history of a folk-melody, for each change that it has assumed
in the course of its history, it is clear that authorship of this
kind is not what we mean when we name Dibdin as the author
of " Tom Bowling." The theory that the folk-song is but the
degenerate offspring of a cultivated ancestry, that the peasantry
have, in fact, taken their music from a superior class, and trans-
formed it to suit their own tastes and idioms, has been and is
still held apparently by many (see Closson, Chansons populaires
beiges; and Combarieu, La Musique, p. 114). This is tanta-
mount to the assumption that the presence among songs of the
1 The error must be guarded against of supposing that melodies,
heard to-day among the peasantry, which suggest medieval times,
are necessarily medieval in origin. It has been already indicated
that dorian, aeolian and mixolydian modes (to name those which
are most prevalent) are natural modes, not church modes; they are
still employed by folk-singers in many parts of Europe. A melody
in the modern major scale is just as liable at the present day to
submit to transformation into the mixolydian or some other mode, as
melodies in other modes are liable to become major.
peasantry of beautiful melodies involves pre-existing musical
civilization, and that the popular instinct is incapable, without
cultivation, of creating melodies that are. artistically beautiful.
It would be difficult to support this assumption in the case of
the German and Dutch medieval songs, to which reference has
been made; the cases that could be cited, in which well-known
airs of the town have passed to the country and suffered trans-
formation, are insufficient data for establishing a general rule
as to the origin of folk-songs. Indeed, the very fact of such
transformation tends to prove the existence of a strictly popular
music, into whose idiom the town music is transformed. To
deny that uncultivated peasants can create melody is to forget
that the languages even of savages have their grammar and
syntax, as well as qualities that are rhythmical and musical,
and that even among civilized people those same qualities
existed long before they were analysed and tabulated by
grammarians, and further developed by trained literary men.
The case of melody is strictly analogous to that of languages.
As every country has its own store of folk-songs in which
national characteristics find expression through idioms which
differentiate its songs from those of other countries, it would be
arbitrary to select the songs of one country rather than those of
another for separate discussion.
The history of the art-song has now to be considered, of
solo song, that is, with instrumental accompaniment as an
essential part. Songs for two or more voices with
or without accompaniment, though they properly
belong to the subject of this article, are passed over,
for they but exhibit the tendencies manifested in solo song when
applied to more complicated forms. Operatic songs and arias
are likewise omitted (except in the early Italian period), as
belonging to a branch of music which requires separate treat-
ment (see ARIA; OPERA). Instrumental song arose during the
i6th century, a time in which composers, released by the spirit
of the Renaissance from the exclusive service of the Church,
were already becoming active in secular directions. The
madrigal was the favourite form of composition and was rapidly
approaching its period of maturity: it was now to be superseded
as the popular diversion of cultivated society by solo song.
The habit had already sprung up of supplying voices that might
be missing in a madrigal by instruments: if all the voices but
one were absent, the effect of a solo with instrumental accompani-
ment was realized. A still nearer approach to solo song was
made when singers, selecting one part of a madrigal for the
voice, themselves played the rest on lute or chilarrone. In such
performances the voice part was likely to receive most attention
— even in madrigal-singing it was not unknown for the soprano
to embroider her part with gruppetti and ornamental passages
(see Kiesewetter's Schicksale u. Beschaffenheit des Weltlichen
Gesanges, p. 72, for an example of a simple part as embellished
by the well-known Signora Vittoria Archilei) — and the accom-
paniment to undergo processes of simplification, thus preparing
the way for melodies, simple or ornate, with unobtrusive accom-
paniments, and perhaps also contributing to the invention of
that declamatory or recitative style, attributed to Cavalieri,
Peri and Caccini, the founders of oratorio and opera. Such
melodies are found in Caccini's famous Nuove Musiche, published
in Venice in 1601 (" Feri Selvaggi " may serve as a beautiful
specimen of simple melody; " Cor mio " is typical of the ornate
style, " Deh! dove son fuggite " of the declamatory: the last
two are quoted in Kiesewetter, Ceschichte und Beschafenheit
des Weltlichen Gesanges, p. 73). Caccini claimed in the preface
to that work to be the first to invent songs " fora single voice
to the accompaniment of a simple instrument." It is true that
his friends in Rome (his native city), at whose houses these
new compositions were performed, assured him that they had
never heard the like before, and that his style exhibited possibil-
ities for the expression of feeling, that were excluded, when the
voice sang merely one part in a contrapuntal work. But, about
thirty years before Caccini, lutenists in France had anticipated
his innovations, and composed solo songs, with lute accompani-
ments, in which is evidenced the struggle, not always successful,
406
SONG
to break away from polyphonic traditions. Le Roy's Airs de
Cour, published in 1571, may be cited in proof of this statement.
Of these airs " Je suis amour " is somewhat in the declamatory
recitative style of Caccini's Nuove musiche (see Sammelba'nde,
Int. Musik Gesellschaft, article " Airs de Cour of Adrien le Roy,"
by Janet Dodge). Generally speaking, it may be said of early
French songs that they were longer in shaking off the influence
of the past than the songs of the Italians, many tricks of ex-
pressions, belonging to polyphonic times, surviving both in voice
parts and accompaniments. In the voice parts sometimes
the influence of popular song is evident, at others they are neither
melodious nor yet declamatory, but merely suggest a single
part in a polyphonic composition, while the accompaniments
for the lute are generally a mixture of chords used with harmonic
effects, and certain polyphonic tricks inherited from the past
two centuries. In England two books of " Ayres," for a single
voice with lute accompaniment, one by Jones, and another by
Campion and Rosseter, were published in 1601; Jones in his
preface claims that his songs were the first of the kind, and
Rosseter says that those of Campion had been for some time
" privately imparted to his friends." Both sets therefore seem
to be independent of Caccini's Nuove musiche, the influence of
which was not felt for some years. In England the break with
the past was less violent and sudden than in Italy; for the
established practice of arranging popular songs and dances
as lute solos led naturally to, and profoundly influenced, the
later " ayres " with lute accompaniment. As Dr Walker remarks
(History of Music in England, p. 121, Clarendon Press, 1907),
" A folk-song of 1 500, a song of Thomas Campion and a song
of Henry Lawes are all bound together by a clear and strong
tie." In a simple and unpretentious way these first English
attempts at solo-song were singularly successful. The best
of them, such as Rosseter's " And would you see my Mistress'
face ? " and Campion's " Shall I come if I swim? " rank as master-
pieces of their kind. Both in structure and in feeling they
exactly catch the essentials of the lyrics of the period. Their
daintiness and charm make it easy to forgive an air of artifi-
ciality, which was after all inevitable — if the songs were to
represent the spirit of their environment.1
Meanwhile Italian composers, who, in spite of the frottole,
villote, villanelle, balletti and falalas (arrangements in vocal
parts of popular melodies common in the last half of the i6th
century) seem to have been unaffected in the new song movement
by popular influences, went straight from the polyphonic to
the recitative style, and advanced with extraordinary rapidity.
Melody was quickly added to relieve the monotony of recitative
which must have been acutely felt by the hearers of the early
operas, and considerable advance in this direction was made
by Cavalli and Cesti (see Oxford History of Music, vol. iii., for
details of their methods). Monteverde, though a greater genius
than either of them, did not succeed in forcing the daring qualities
of his own conceptions on others. The famous lament of Ariadne
was the expression of an individual genius casting all rules aside
for the sake of poignant emotional effect rather than the begin-
ning of a new epoch in song. Carissimi and Rossi in oratorio
and cantata (a word which then merely described a piece that
was sung, as sonata a piece that was played, and consisted
generally of alternate recitative and aria) brought the organiza-
tion of mejody to a high degree of elaboration, far beyond
anything attempted by Cavalli and Cesti. In their hands the
declamatory rriethods of Monteverde were made subordinate to
larger purposes of design. A broad and general characterization
1 John Dowland, the chief of English lutenists, published his first
book of songs and ayres in four parts in 1597, " So made that all the
parts together or either of them severally may be sung to the lute,
orpherion or viol da gamba." Though not strictly speaking solo-
songs they are too important not to be mentioned. Three other
books followed in 1600, 1603 and 1612, in the second of which appears
the famous " Flow my tears " (Lachrymae) for two voices, but al-
most equally effective as a solo, and doubtless often used as such.
It is published in vol. vii. of Euterpe (Breitkopf & Hartel, London),
which also contains a valuable monograph on English lutenists and
lute music by Miss Janet Dodge. Dowland's few solo-songs are
unimportant.
of emotional situations was more natural to them and to their
successors than a treatment in which points are emphasized in
detail. It was moreover inevitable in these early developments
of musical style, in which melody had to play the leading part,
that such sacrifices as were necessary in ' balancing the rival
claims of expression and form should be in favour of the latter
rather than the former. But, the formal perfection of melody
was not the only problem which 17th-century Italian composers
had to face. The whole question of instrumental accompani-
ment had to be worked out; the nature and capacities of in-
struments, including the voice itself, had to be explored; the
reconciliation of the new art of harmony with the old art of
counterpoint to be effected. It speaks volumes for the innate
musical sense and technical skill of the early Italian composers
that the initial stage of tentative effort passed so quickly, and
that at the close of the i7th century we are conscious of breathing
an atmosphere not of experimental work, but of mature art.
Alessandro Scarlatti (1650-1725) sums up the period for Italy.
That much of his work is dry, a mere exhibition of consummate
technical skill without inspiration, is not surprising when the
quantity of it is realized, and also the unfavourable conditions
under which operatic composers had to work, but the best of
it is singularly noble in conception and perfect in design. The
same is true of the best work of Legrenzi, Stradella, Caldara.
Leonardo Leo, Durante, work which was of incalculable im-
portance for the development of musical, and particularly of
vocal, art, and which will always, for minds attuned to its atmo-
sphere of classical intellectuality, severity and self-restraint,
possess an abiding charm: but comparatively few specimens
have retained the affections of the world at large. Carissimi's
" Vittoria," Scarlatti's " O Cessate " and " Le Violette " are
the most notable exceptions (" Pieta Signore " is not included,
as no one now attributes it to Stradella).
The almost universal preference of the Italians in the i7th
and 1 8th centuries for the aria in da capo form involved serious
sacrifices on the dramatic and emotional side: for although
this form was but an elaboration of the folk-song type, ABA,
yet it involved, as the folk-song type did not, the repetition
note merely of the melody of the opening part, but of the words
attached to it. It is this double repetition which from the point
of view of dramatic sincerity forms so disturbing an element.
But composers, as has been remarked, were too much occupied
with exploring the formal possibilities of melody t6 establish a
really intimate connexion between music and text (Monteverde
being a notable exception), a detailed interpretation of which
lay outside their scheme of song. Elaboration of melody soon
came to involve much repetition of words, and this was not
felt as an absurdity so long as the music was broadly in accord
with the atmosphere or situation required. A few lines of
poetry were thought sufficient for a fully developed aria. Ex-
ceptions are however to be found in what is known as the
recitatiw arioso — of which remarkably fine specimens appear
in some of Scarlatti's cantatas — and in occasional songs in
slighter form than the tyrannous da capo aria, such as Caldara's
" Come raggio di sol " — which foreshadows with its dignified and
expressive harmonies the Schubertian treatment of song.
Before Scarlatti's death in 1725 symptoms of decline had
appeared. He was himself often compelled to sacrifice his finer
instincts to the popular demand for mere vocal display. A
race of singers, who were virtuosi rather than artists, dominated
the taste of the public, and forced composers to furnish oppor-
tunities in each role for a full display of their powers. An opera
was expected to provide for each favourite five kinds of aria!
(aria cantabile, aria di portamento, aria di mezzo caraitere, ariu
parlanle and aria d' agilitd). It was not long before easier and
more obvious types of melody, expressing easier and more obvious
feelings, became the fashion. The varied forms of accompani-
ment, in which a good contrapuntal bass had been a conspicuous
feature, were wasted upon a public which came to hear vocalists,
not music; and stereotyped figures, of the kind which second-
rate art after the first half of the i8th century has made only too
familiar, took the place of sound contrapuntal workmanship,
SONG
407
till the Italian school, which had stood as a model for the world,
became identified with all that was trivial, insipid, conventional,
melodramatic. Not that the Italian tendency in the direction
of mere tunefulness was in itself either unhealthy or unworthy.
It was indeed a necessary reaction from the severe earlier style,
as soon as that style began to lose its earnestness and sincerity,
and to pass into cold and calculating formalism. But the spirit
of shallowness and frivolity which accompanied the reaction
involved the transference of musical supremacy from Italy to
Germany, the only country, which, while accepting what was
necessary to it of Italian influences, steadily remained true
to its own ideals.
Before speaking of German song, it is necessary to glance at
what was being done outside of Italy in the 1 7th century. Reference
has already been made to the French as pioneers in establishing
solo song to lute accompaniment, which here, as in Italy, origi-
nated in adaptations of polyphonic compositions. But in
France from the first the main influence was derived from popular
sources, the native folk-song and the vaudeville, the ditties of
country and of town. In both that union of grace, simplicity
and charm, characteristic of the French nation, tended to
produce an art of dainty unpretentious attractiveness, in strong
contrast to the serious and elaborate Italian work. It preserved
these characteristics in spite of the artificial atmosphere of the
French court, in which it mainly flourished up to the time of the
Revolution, in spite too of the somewhat different influences
which might have been expected to affect it, derived from
opera, the mania for which did not, as in Italy, kill the smaller
branch of vocal music. Brunettes, musettes, minuets, vaude-
villes, bergerettes, pastourelles, as the airs de cour were styled
according to the nature of the poetry to which they were attached,
may be found in Weckerlin's Echos du temps passe, but the
reader must beware of judging the real character of these songs
from that which they assume under the hands of the modern
arranger.
With the latter part of the i8th century came in the languid
and sentimental romance, in which the weaker phases of Italian
melody are felt as an enervating influence. The romance became
after the Revolution the most popular form of polite song, lead-
ing by degrees to that purely melodious type of which Gounod
may be considered the best representative, and which other
composers, such as Godard, Massenet, Widor, have been for
the most part content to follow and develop, leaving to more
adventurous spirits the excitement of exploring less obviously
accessible regions.
In England, as in France and Italy, the beginning of the
1 7th century brought into existence solo song. Its beginnings
have already been alluded to in speaking of the songs of Rosseter,
Jones, Campion and Dowland. The work of H. Lawes, and his
contemporaries, Wiliam Lawes, Coleman and Wilson, was
equally unpretentious and simple. A gem here and there,
such as " Gather ye Rosebuds " (W. Lawes), is the student's
reward for a mass of uninspired, though not ungraceful, work
in which is to be noted an attempt to come to closer quarters
with poetry, by " following as closely as they could the rhyth-
mical outlines of non-musical speech: they listened to their
poet friends reciting their own verses and then tried to produce
artificially exact imitations in musical notes " (Ernest Walker,
History of Music in England, p. 130), producing what was neither
good melody nor good declamation. Such tentative work,
in spite of Milton's sonnet to H. Lawes, could only have a
passing vogue, especially with a Purcell so near at hand to show
the world the difference between talent and genius, between
amateurish effort and the realized conceptions of a master of
his craft. Songs like " Let the dreadful Engines " and " Mad
Bess of Bedlam " reach a level of dramatic intensity and de-
clamatory power, which is not surpassed by the best work of
contemporary Italian composers. " I attempt from love's
sickness to fly " is so familiar in its quiet beauty that we are
apt to forget that melodies so perfectly proportioned were quite
new to English art (though Dr Blow's " The Self-banished "
deserves fully to stand with it side by side). Monteverde's
" Lament of Ariadne " has already been alluded to. It is
interesting to contrast its emotional force, obtained by daring
defiance of rule, with the equally intense, but more sublime
pathos of PurcelPs " Lament of Dido," in which song a ground
bass is used throughout. The " Elegy on the death of Mr John
Playford " (quoted in full by Dr Walker, p. 176 of his history)
exhibits the same feature and the same mastery of treatment.
The " Morning Hymn " is scarcely less remarkable, and has
likewise a ground bass. Purcell died in 1695; Bach and Handel
were then but ten years old, and Scarlatti had still thirty years
to live — facts of which the significance may be left to speak
for itself.
It is among the ironies of musical history that so great a
beginning was not followed up. There are echoes of Purcell
in the generation that succeeded him, in Croft, Greene, Boyce
and Arne: but they quickly died away. The genius of Handel
first and of Mendelssohn later seem to have prevented English-
men from thinking musically for themselves. At least this is
the orthodox explanation: but it should be borne in mind that
a list of English composers, who have been willing to sacrifice
ease and prosperity to a life of devotion to artistic ideals, would
be exceedingly difficult to draw up and would certainly not
include many of the best-known names. From the death of
Purcell to the Victorian era there is no consistent development
of artistic song that is worth recording in detail. The only
songs that have survived are of the melodious order; of these
Arne contributes several that are still acceptable for an air of
freshness and gracefulness which marks them as his own.
" Where the Bee sucks " and " Blow, blow, thou Winter Wind "
are typical of his style at its best, as " The Soldier tired of
War's Alarms " is typical of it at its worst. Song writers that
followed him, Shield, Hook, Dibdin, Storace, Horn, Linley (the
elder) and Bishop, were all prolific melodists, who have each
left a certain number of popular songs by which their names
are remembered, and which are still pleasant enough to be
heard occasionally; but there is no attempt to advance in any.
new direction, no hint that song could have any other mission
than to gratify the public taste for tuneful melodies allied to
whatever poetry — pastoral, bacchanalian, patriotic or senti-
mental— lay readiest to hand.
The musical genius of Germany, which has created for the
world the highest forms as yet known of symphony, oratorio
and opera, is not less remarkable as the originator
of the Lied — the term by. which are most easily
conveyed the modern conceptions of ideal song.
Germany is moreover the only country in which in orderly and
progressive development the art of song may be traced from
the simple medieval Volkslied to the elaborate productions of
Schubert, Schumann and Brahms. If Germany is united to
the rest of Europe in her debt to Italy, still her final conceptions
of song belong to herself alone. And these conceptions have
more profoundly influenced the rest of Europe than any Italian
conception ever influenced Germany. When the rest of Europe
was content with the vapid outpourings of Italian and pseudo-
Italian puerilities, an acute observer could have read the signs in
Germany, from which the advent of a Schubert might have been
foretold. The student therefore is more profitably employed
in studying the phases of song-development in Germany than
in any other country. German ideals and German methods of
technique have permeated the best modern song-work of coun-
tries differing as widely in idiom as Russia, Norway, France and
England.
It is not necessary to dwell, except in very general terms,
upon German song of the i7th century. There had been no
development corresponding with that which produced the
airs de cour of France and the ayres of England. The very
literature necessary for such development was wanting. Indeed
German art was too profoundly affected by the spirit which
produced the Reformation to develop freely in secular directions.
Even in the domain of the Volkslied the sacred songs can scarcely
have been less numerous than the secular; and at the Reforma-
tion adaptations of secular airs to sacred words constituted
408
SONG
borrowings on a very large scale. In the i7th century the work
of the Italian monodists was bound eventually to stimulate
German composers to make songs, but their main interest lay
in larger choral-instrumental works, in which solo songs natur-
ally appear, not in song as an independent branch of art. A good
general view of such isolated songs as appeared can be obtained
from Reimann's collections Das dculsche geistliche Lied and
Das deutsche Lied (Simrock). In spite of some stiffness and
awkwardness, these 17th-century songs exhibit a loftiness of
aim, a touching earnestness and sincerity, which mark them off
as quite distinct from any work done elsewhere at the same
time. On the other hand there is not that sure grasp of their
material, nor the melodic and declamatory power, which make
Purcell in England stand out pre-eminently as the greatest song
composer of the i7th century. The treatment of the aria by
Bach and Handel is discussed in separate articles (see ARIA;
BACH; HANDEL), which render unnecessary any further comment
here. Nor need we pause to consider the vastly inferior work
of lesser composers such as Telemann, Marpurg and Agricola,
most of which is confined to opera, oratorio and cantata. Our
concern is rather with the smaller lyrical forms, and to these
the absence of suitable poetry was for long an insurmountable
barrier. It was not till the middle of the i8th century that
the reform in German poetry associated with the name of Martin
Opitz (who translated Rinuccini's text of Dafne, ]. Peri's first
opera, for Heinrich Schtitz) bore real fruit.
At the outset it is necessary to make a broad distinction
between the more distinctly popular form of song, known as the
Volkstiimliches Lied, in which the same music served for each
stanza of a poem (as in the Volkslied itself, on which the Volks-
tiimliches Lied was modelled), and the Kunstlied, or, to adopt
the more descriptive term, the durch-componirtes Lied, in which
the music forms a running commentary on a poem, without
respect to its form — or, if stanza form is preserved, varying the
music in some stanzas or in all in accordance with their poetical
significance. Generally speaking the former aims at a wider
audience than the Kunstlied, the appreciation of which, when it
is worth appreciating, involves some degree of culture and
intelligence, inasmuch as it aims as a rule at interpreting more
complex and difficult kinds of poetry. In the i8th century the
simpler Volkstiimliches Lied in strophic form was most in favour,
and those who care to trace its history in the hands of popular
composers like J. A. Hiller, J. A. P. Schulz, Reichhardt, Berger
and Zelter, can easily do so by consulting Hartel's Liederlexicon
(Leipzig, 1867) or one of a number of similar publications. Side
by side with the outpouring of somewhat obvious and senti-
mental melodiousness, which such volumes reveal, it must be
remembered that the attention of greater men to instrumental
composition, the growing power to compose for keyed instru-
ments (which began to replace the lute in the middle of the i7th
century), and the mechanical improvements, through which
spinet, clavichord and harpsichord were advancing toward the
modern pianoforte, were preparing the way for the modern
Lied, in which the pianoforte accompaniment was to play an
increasingly important part. C. P. E. Bach (d. 1788) alone
of his contemporaries gave serious attention to lyrical song,
selecting the best poetry he could get hold of, and aspiring to
something beyond merely tuneful melody. The real outburst
of song had to wait for the inspiration which came with Goethe
and Schiller.
It is unfortunate that Haydn and Mozart, pre-eminently
endowed with every gift that makes for perfect song except
that of literary discernment, should have left us so little of
real value. There is indeed much to admire in some of Haydn's
canzonets, of which " My Mother bids me bind my Hair " fully
deserves its continued popularity, while Mozart's " Schlafe
mein Prinzchen " — if it is Mozart's — and a few others, like
these in simple strophic form, are isolated treasures which we
could not afford to lose. But in only two songs by Mozart,
" Abendempfindung " and " Das Veilchen," is the goal, to which
the art was to advance, clearly discerned and in the latter case
perfectly attained. Both are durchcomponirt, that is, they
follow the words in detail; in both the general spirit, as well as
each isolated point of beauty in the verses, is seized and portrayed
with unerring insight. " Abendempfindung " is indeed seriously
marred by some carelessness in accentuation (worse examples
may be seen in " An Chloe ") and by annoying repetition of
words, due to the development of the melody into a formal and
effective climax. In the process the balance of the poem is
destroyed, and the atmosphere of suffused warmth and tenderness,
which pervades the rest of the song, is almost lost. The lyrical
mood passes into one in which the operatic aria is suggested
on the one hand, and on the other the formality of instrumental
methods of developing melody. Not till Schubert were these
traditions, fatal to the pure lyric, finally overthrown, and the
conditions of true union between music and poetry perfectly
realized. In " Das Veilchen " however, where Mozart touched a
poem that was worthy of his genius and appealed to his extra-
ordinarily fine dramatic instinct, he produced a masterpiece —
rightly regarded as the first perfect specimen of the durch-
componirtes Lied. Every incident in the flower's story is
minutely followed, with a detailed pictorial and dramatic
treatment (involving several changes of key, contrasts be-
tween major and minor, variations of rhythm and melody,
declamatory or recitative passages) which was quite new
to the art. The accompaniment too takes its full share,
illustrating each incident with exquisite fancy, delicacy and
discretion — and all with no violence done to the form of the
poem.
With Beethoven song was suddenly exalted to a place among
the highest branches of composition. Taken in hand with the
utmost seriousness by the greatest musician of the age and
associated by him for the most part with lyrical poetry of a
high order, it could at last raise its head, and, freed from the
conventional formalities of the salon, look a larger world con-
fidently in the face. It cannot, however, be admitted that Beet-
hoven, in spite of several noble songs, was an ideal song com-
poser. His genius moved more easily in the field of abstract
music. The forms of poetry were to him rather a hindrance
than a help. His tendency is to press into his melodies more
meaning than the words will bear. The very qualities in fact
which make his instrumental melodies so inspiring tell against
his songs. Though his stronger critical instinct kept him as a
rule from the false accentuation which marred some of the work
of Haydn and Mozart, yet, like them, he often failed to escape
from the instrumentalist's point of view, especially in the larger
song-forms. The concluding melody of " Busselied " would
be equally effective played as a violin solo: the same might be
said of the final movements of " Adelaide " and of the otherwise
noble cycle " An die feme Geliebte " — movements in which
the words have to adapt themselves as well as they can to the
exigencies of thematic development, and to submit to several
displacements and tiresome repetitions. In songs of a solemn
or deeply emotional nature Beethoven is at his best, as in that
cycle, to sacred words of Gellert, of which " Die Ehre Gottes
aus der Natur " stands as a lasting monument of simple but
expressive grandeur, in " Trocknet nicht," in " Partenza," " In
questa tomba," in the first of his four settings of Goethe's " Nur
.wer die Sehnsucht kennt," and more than all, in the cycle " An
die feme Geliebte," which represents a further stage reached in
song on the road marked out by Mozart in " Das Veilchen." We
have left behind the pretty artificialities so dear to the i8th
century, that play around fictitious shepherds and shepherdesses,
and entered the field of deeper human feeling with the surrounding
influences upon it of nature and romance. The new spirit of
the age, represented in German poetry by the lyrics of Burger,
Voss, Claudius and Holty, members of the famous Gottinger
Hainbund, and more notably by those of Goethe and Schiller,
communicates itself in Beethoven to song, which now assumes
its rightful position of joint interpreter. It needs no deep study
of Beethoven's songs to perceive that the accompaniment has
assumed, especially in the " Liederkreis, " an importance, im-
measurably greater than in the songs of any previous composer.
It begins to act the part of the chorus in Greek drama and to
SONG
409
provide both a background and a commentary to the central
personages.
The tentative and uninspired work of Zelter, Reichardt,
Schulz and others, when they attempted anything beyond a
merely tuneful melody in the strophic form, may be passed over,
but a word is due to J. R. Zumsteeg, because in spite of the
sometimes childish simplicity of his work he yet, in the kind
of use which he made of modulation as a means of lyrical ex-
pression, anticipated, more than any other composer of songs,
one of the chief features of the greatest song writer of all ages,
Franz Schubert. Schubert's " Erlkonig " was written a few
months before Beethoven's " Liederkreis," " Gretchen am Spinn-
rade " about a year before the " Erlkonig." He was eighteen
when he composed the latter, in' 1815. Lyrical song, divorced
from all hindering elements and associations, whether of salon
or theatre, was here at the threshold of his short career in almost
full maturity and plenitude of power. It is sufficiently remark-
able that a lad with so little education should have composed
such music: it is more astonishing still that he should have
penetrated with such unerring insight into the innermost secrets
of the best poetry. Two of the necessary qualifications for a
great song composer were thus at last united. Schubert pos-
sessed the third — a knowledge of the human voice, partly
intuitive, partly the result of his experience as a chorister boy.
The beauty of his melodies is scarcely more striking than the
gratefulness of their purely vocal qualities. The technique of
singing had indeed been understood for nearly two centuries;
but Schubert was the first to divine fully its emotional range, and
to dissociate it in lyrical work from all traditions of the schools.
From the beginning to the end of his career he never penned a
note or a phrase because it was vocally effective. What he
wrote for the voice to sing was there because for him the poetry
could not have it otherwise. This was inherent in his method
of working, in which he relied implicitly upon his musical in-
spiration for a response, usually instantaneous, to the inordinate
receptivity of his mind to the impressions of poetry. To read
through a poem was for him not only to seize its innermost
significance, and every salient point of language or of form,
but also to visualize the scheme by which both the whole and
the parts could be translated and glorified through the medium
of music. As the singer Vogl, the first of his profession to
appreciate him, remarked, " He composed in a state of clair-
voyance." Hence the impossibility of summarizing in a short
space the innovations he introduced, for new poems invariably
suggested new types of song. His settings of Goethe's lyrics
(that is, the best of them) differ as essentially from his settings
to those of W. Muller in the cycles "Die Schone Mullerin" and
" Die Winterreise," as these again from his settings of Heine.
Hardly a single development in subsequent phases of the art
(except those which eliminate the melodious element) is not
foreshadowed in one or other of his six hundred (and more)
songs. Brahms, perhaps the greatest of his successors, said
that there was something to be learned from every one of Schu-
bert's songs. He was as perfectly at home in the durchcompo-
nirtes Lied as in the simple strophic type or the purely de-
clamatory (" Der Wegweiser," " Nahe des Geliebten," " Der
Doppelganger " may serve as familiar but supreme examples
of each). Certain features may be selected for emphasis, first,
his use of modulation as a means of emotional expression. " Du
liebst mich nicht " traverses in two pages more keys than would
serve most composers for a whole symphony, whilst the discords
on the words " Die Sonne vermissen " and " Was bliih'n die
Narcissen " gave a piercingly thrilling effect, which is quite
modern. The modulations in " Wehmuth " illustrate the subtle
atmospheric effects which he loved to produce by sudden contrasts
between major and minor harmonies. More familiar instances
occur in " Gute Nacht," " Die Rose," " Rosamunde." Secondly,
his inexhaustible fertility in devising forms of accompaniment,
which serve to illustrate the pictorial or emotional background
of a poem; we have the galloping horses (and the horn) in "Die
Post," the spinning wheel in " Gretchen," murmuring brooks
in many songs from " Die Schone Mullerin " and in " Liebesbot-
schaft," the indication of an emotional mood in " Die Stadt "
or " Litanei." Occasionally, it is true, the persistence of a
particular figure and rhythm induces monotony, as in " Ave,
Maria!" or " Normans Gesang," but generally Schubert has
plenty of means at his command to prevent it, such as the
presence of an appropriate subsidiary figure making its appear-
ance at intervals, as in " Halt," " Der Einsame," or some
enchanting ritornello, by which a phrase of the vocal melody is
echoed in the accompaniment, as in " Liebesbotschaft," " An
Sylvia," " Standchen " and " Fischerweise." Thirdly, the sud-
den entrance of declamatory passages, as in " Der Neugier'ge,"
" Am Feierabend," in " Gretchen," at the famous " Ach sein
Kuss," and in " Erlkonig " at " Mein Vater, mein Vater."
Fourthly, the realistic touches by which suggestions in a poem
are incorporated into the accompaniment, such as the cock
crowing in " Friihlingstraum," the convent bell in " Die Junge
Nonne," the nightingale's song in " Ganymed " or the falling
tears in " Ihr Bild." Finally should be noted the extreme rarity
of any slips in the matter of the just accentuation of syllables,
and this is especially remarkable in a song writer who relies
so much upon pure melody as Schubert, for to preserve a per-
fect melodic outline which shall do not the least violence to a
poet's text, presents far more difficult problems than the de-
clamatory style. Yet Schubert is as successful in " Liebes-
botschaft " as in " Prometheus." Purists may be disturbed by
the repetitions of words involved in the magnificent " Dithy-
rambe " — but Schubert cannot be expected to betray a sensi-
tiveness which is really post-Wagnerian. Nor is it just to a
composer of over 600 songs to fasten for critical purposes on
those which do not represent him at his best. His best level
is so often attained as to make attacks on points which he has
missed — as in some of the songs from Wilhelm Meister — some-
what beside the mark. It is usually the work of enthusiasts
who wish to exalt others at Schubert's expense. For further
details the reader is referred to the brilliant essay on Song with
which Mr Hadow concludes vol. v. of the Oxford History of
Music. It must suffice here to point out in a general way that
in wideness of scope and aim, in intensity of expression Schubert
produced the same transformation in the lyrical field that
Beethoven had produced in the larger forms of sonata, string
quartet and symphony. Beethoven's work was necessary before
Schubert could arise, but Schubert's conceptions and methods
were the fruit of his own genius. Of his contemporaries Loewe
deserves mention for his singular success in overcoming the
difficulties involved in setting long ballads to music. To
preserve homogeneity in a form in which simple narration
presents perpetually shifting changes of action, of picture, of
mood, is a problem which Schubert himself only once trium-
phantly solved. Weber contributed nothing to song, except
in his operas, of permanent value, beyond a few strophic songs
of a popular nature. He disqualified himself for higher work
by that singular preference for vapid and trivial verse which
so often led Haydn and Mozart astray. Mendelssohn's literary
tastes took him to the best poetry, but he made but little attempt
as a rule, to penetrate beyond its superficial and obvious import.
His own lovable personality is far more clearly revealed in his
songs than the spirit of his poets. Differences of literary style
affected the style of his music perhaps less than that of any other
distinguished composer. He attained his highest level in " Auf
Flugeln des Gesanges,;' the first of the two songs to Zuleika, and
Nachtlied. It is noteworthy that there is no trace of Schubert's
influence. Had Schubert not lived, Mendelssohn's songs would
have been just the same. Hence in spite of graceful and flowing
melodies, elegant but simple in form, and instinct with that
polished taste and charm of manner which endeared both him-
self and his works to his own generation, his songs have exercised
no permanent influence upon the art. Their immediate in-
fluence, it is true, was enormous: it is felt occasionally in
Schumann, only too often in Robert Franz, and a host of lesser
composers in many countries besides his own, such as Gade,
Lindblad, Sterndale Bennett, and others who need not be
specified.
SONG
Of far greater importance is the work of Robert Schumann,
whose polyphonic methods of technique and peculiarly epigram-
matic style enabled him to treat complex phases of thought
and feeling which had hardly become prominent in Schubert's
time with quite extraordinary success. Both by temperament
and by choice he is identified with the so-called romantic move-
ment, a movement in which both poetry and music have tended
more and more to become rather a personal revelation than
" a criticism of life." Thus with Schubert the note of univer-
sality, the abiding mark of the classical composers, is stronger
than the impress of his own personality. With Schumann the
reverse is the case. If the romantic movement gave a new
impetus of vast importance both to music and literature, yet
it had its weaker side in extremes of sensibility, which were
not always equivalent to strength of feeling. Mendelssohn's
songs admittedly err on the side of pure sentimentality-
Schumann, with Liszt, Jensen and Franz, frequently betrays
the same weakness, but his best work, his settings to Heine
(especially the Dichterliebe), the Eichendorf " Liederkreis,"
Chamisso's " Frauenliebe u. Leben " (with some reservations),
besides a fair number of other songs, such as " Widmung,"
" Der Nussbaum," " Ihre Stimme," and his one completely
successful ballad, " Die beiden Grenadiere," are strong in feeling
and full of poetic and imaginary qualities of the very highest
order. The new poetry called for new methods of treatment.
These Schumann, instinctively an experimenter, provided,
first, by a closer attention to the minutiae of declamation than
had hitherto been attempted-r-and herein syncopation and
suspension furnished possibilities unsuspected even by Schubert
— secondly by increasing the role of the pianoforte accompani-
ment— and in this he was helped on the one hand by novel
methods of technique, of which himself and Chopin were the
chief originators, and on the other by his loving study of Bach,
which imparted a polyphonic treatment, quite new to song.
In nearly all Schubert's songs, and in quite all of Mendelssohn's,
the melody allotted to the voice maintained its position of
supremacy. In Schumann it not infrequently becomes the
secondary factor, the main r61e of lyric interpreter passing to
the accompaniment, as in " Es ist ein Floten u. Geigen " or
" Roselein." He also gave quite a new prominence to the
opening and closing instrumental symphonies, which become
in his hands no merely formal introduction or conclusion but
an integral part of the whole conception and fabric of the Lied.
This may be illustrated by many numbers of the Dichterliebe,
but most remarkable is the final page, in which the pianoforte,
after the voice has stopped, sums up the whole tenour of the
cycle. This feature has been seized upon by many subsequent
composers, but by few with Schumann's rare insight and judg-
ment. In Franz, for instance, the concluding symphony is
often introduced without necessity, and becomes a mere irritating
mannerism. In Brahms however it is developed, both at the
opening and close of many songs, to an importance and preg-
nancy of meaning which no other composer has attained.
A third point in Schumann's method is his fondness for short
interrupted phrases (often repeated at different levels) in place
of the developed Schubertian melodies; it is alluded to here
because of the great extension of the practice by later composers,
too often, as in the case of Franz, without Schumann's tact.
On many grounds, then, Schumann may be regarded as having
widely extended the conception of the Lied; his example has
encouraged later composers to regard no lyric poetry as too
subtle for musical treatment. Unfortunately in presenting com-
plexity of mood Schumann was not invariably careful to pre-
serve structural solidity. Many later composers have followed
the occasional looseness of design which is his fault, without
approaching the beauty of spirit, in which he stands alone.
A bold experimenter in song was Franz Liszt, whose wayward
genius, with its irrepressible bent towards the theatrical and
melodramatic, was never at home within the limits of a short
lyric. It is true that there is sincerity of feeling, if not of the
deepest kind, in " Es muss ein Wunderbares sein " and " Uber
alien Gipfeln "; but concentrated emotion, which involves for
its expression highly organized form, was alien to Liszt's genius,
which is more truly represented in songs like " Die Lorelei,"
" Kennst du das Land," " Am Rhein " — in which are presented
a series of pictures loosely connected, giving the impression
of clever extemporizations on paper. It is not sufficiently
recognized that such work is far easier to produce than a
successful strophic song, even of the simplest kind, because the
composer ignores the fact that a formal lyric implies formal
music, and that the most formal poetry is often the most emo-
tional. Critics, who measure the advance of song by the increase
in number of those that are durchcomponirt, and the decreasing
output of those which have the same music to each stanza,
are in danger of forgetting the best qualities both of music and
of poetry. Formless music never interpreted a finely formed
poem, and unless the durchcomponirtes Lied has more form
instead of less than the strophic song, it is artistically valueless.
The popularity therefore of " Die Lorelei " is not so much a
tribute to Liszt's genius as an example of the extent to which
gifted singers and undiscerning critics can mislead the public.
Mere scene painting, however vivid, however atmospheric — and
these qualities may be conceded to Liszt and to others who have
followed his example — takes its place upon the lower planes
of art.
The admiration expressed by Liszt and Wagner for the songs of
Robert Franz, and the cordial welcome extended by Schumann
to those which first made their appearance, have led to an
undue estimate of their importance in many quarters. They
are characterized by extreme delicacy both of feeling and of
workmanship, but the ingenuity of his counterpoint, which he
owed to his intimate knowledge of Bach and Handel, cannot
conceal the frequent poverty of inspiration in his melodic phrases
nor the absence of genuine constructive power. To build a
song upon one or two phrases repeated at different levels and
coloured by changing harmonies to suit the requirements of the
poetic text (as in " Fur Musik " and " Du bist elend ") is a
dangerous substitute for the power to formulate large and ex-
pressive melodies. But it is the method which Franz instinc-
tively preferred and elaborated with skill. His songs are
mostly very short and in the strophic form, some alteration
being nearly always reserved to give point to the last verse.
His tricks of style and procedure so quickly become familiar
as to exhaust the patience even of the most sympathetic student.
But the sincerity of his aims, the idealistic and supersensitive
purity of his mind (which banished as far as possible even the
dramatic element from his lyrics), its receptiveness to the
beauties of nature and all that is chaste, tender and refined in
human character render his songs an important contribution
to our knowledge of the intimate side of German feeling, and
compensate in some degree for the lack of the larger qualities
of style and imagination. All his best qualities are represented
in the beautiful setting of Lenau's " Stille Sicherheit." Those
who care to study his limitations may compare his settings of
Heine's lyrics with the masterpieces of Schumann in the same
field, or the dulness of his " Verborgenheit " (Morike) with the
romantic fervour imparted to that poem by the later genius
of Hugo Wolf.
A higher value than is usually conceded attaches to the songs
of Peter Cornelius, a friend of Liszt and Wagner, but a follower
of neither. Before he came under their influence he had under-
gone a severe course of contrapuntal training, so that his work,
though essentially modern in spirit, has that stability of structure
which makes for permanence. He was, moreover, an accom-
plished linguist, a brilliant essayist, and a poet. That perfect
fusion between poetry and music, which since Schubert has
increasingly been the ideal of German song, is realized -in an
exceptional manner when, with Cornelius as with Wagner,
librettist and musician are one person. More exquisite declama-
tion is hardly to be found in the whole range of song than
in the subtly imaginative " Auftrag," whilst for nobility of
feeling, apart from technical excellencies of the highest order, the
" Weihnachtslieder," the " Brautlieder " and much of the sacred
cycle " Vater Unser," are hardly surpassed even by Schumann
SONG
411
at his best, and point to Cornelius as one of the most beautiful
and original spirits of the ipth century.
In the song-work of the igth century, though Schubert
remains the rock upon which it has been built, Schumann
represents the most directly inspiring influence, even when, as in
the case of Adolph Jensen (whose spontaneously melodious and
graceful, if not very deep, songs deserve mention), there are
importations from such widely divergent sources as those of
Mendelssohn and Wagner.
The application of the principles of Wagnerian music-drama
to lyrical work, allied, as was natural, with the exaggerations
and unconventionalities of Liszt and Berlioz, was sooner or
later bound to come, bound also for a time to issue in confusion ;
to rescue song from which was the work of two men of genius,
who, though approaching the task from standpoints removed
by the whole distance of pole to pole, may be considered as
placing the crown of final achievement upon the aspirations of
19th-century song — Hugo Wolf and Johannes Brahms.
Wolf exhibits an entirely unconventional and original style.
He is as untroubled by tradition as Schubert, whom he resembles
not often, as in " Fussreise," and " Der Gartner," in pure
melodiousness, but in the intensity of his power to penetrate
to the very heart of poetry. To him may also be most fitly
applied the epithet' clairvoyant. He is the first who published
songs for voice and pianoforte, not songs with pianoforte
accompaniment, thus finally asserting the identity of singer and
accompanist in true lyrical interpretation.
The unerring sagacity of Brahms discerned that the pos-
sibilities of song on the lines set by Schubert were far from being
exhausted: his practical mind preferred to develop those pos-
sibilities rather than to seek after strange and novel methods,
conforming thus in song to his practice in other branches of
composition. A broad melodic outline is for him an essential
feature: equally essential is a fine contrapuntal bass. In
form the majority of his songs follow the orthodox ABA pattern,
the central portion being so organized as to offer, with the least
possible introduction of new unrelated material, a heightened
contrast with the opening portion by means of new treatment
and new tonalities and at the same time to justify itself by
producing the mood in which the return to the opening portion
is felt as a logical necessity. Chromatic effects in Brahms's
scheme of melody are rarely introduced till the middle section,
the opening being almost invariably diatonic. It must however
be admitted that Brahms's formal perfection involves occasion-
ally an awkward handling of words, and that in a few instances
(see Magelone-lieder, Nos. 3 and 6), they are frankly sacri-
ficed to that formal development of his material which has
been criticized in the cases of Mozart and Beethoven. No part
of his songs deserves closer study than the few bars of instru-
mental prelude and conclusion, in which is enshrined the very
essence of his conception of a poem. It may almost be said that,
since Schumann set the example, the first and the last word
has passed from the voice to the instrument. Accompanist,
like singer, must understand poetry as well as music: but with
no composer is his responsibility greater than with Brahms.
Complete mastery in close organization of form was allied in
Brahms not only with the warmth and tenderness of romance,
but with the imagination and insight of a profound thinker.
Concentration of style and of thought have nowhere in the
whole history of song been combined on a plane so high as that
which is reached, with all perfection of melodic and harmonic
beauty, in " Schwermuth," " Der Tod das ist die kuhle Nacht,"
" Mit vierzig Jahren," " Am Kirchhof ," " O wiisst' ich doch den
Weg zuriick " and the " Vier ernste Gesange," which closed the
list of his 197 songs. The alliance to song of so dangerous a
companion as philosophy, or at any rate of thoughts which are
philosophical rather than lyrical, proved no obstacle to Brahms's
equal success in the realm of romance. This side of his genius
may be illustrated by numerous songs from the Magelone cycle
(notably " Wie froh und.frisch " and " Ruhe, suss, Liebchen ")
and by others, of which " Liebestreu," " Die Mainacht,"
" Feldeinsamkeit," " Wie rafft' ich mich auf in der Nacht,"
" Minnelied " and " Wir wandeltcn " are a few examples picked
at random.
It has already been indicated that Brahms was a deep student
of Schubert. If he had not Schubert's absolute spontaneity
of melody, he restored it to its Schubertian place of supreme
importance. In spite of all the tendencies of his age he never
shirked that supreme test of a composer, the power to originate
and organize melody: but it is melody often of a type so severe
in its outline and proportions as to repel those hearers who are
unable to attain to his level of thought and feeling. All mere
prettiness and elegance are as alien to his nature as even the
slightest approach to sentimental weakness on the one hand,
or to realistic scene-painting on the other, so that for the world
at large his popularity is jeopardized by an attitude which is
felt to be uncompromisingly lofty and severe. It has hardly
yet had time to reconcile itself to the union of modern lyrical
poetry with a style whose elaborate contrapuntal texture differs
as much from the delicate polyphony of Schumann as that in
its turn differed from the broad harmonic system of Schubert.
But that Brahms was never difficult without reason, or elaborate
when he might have been simple, appears plainly from the
preference he felt for his slighter songs in the Volksliimlich
style and form, rather than for those which were durchcom-
ponirl. He was strongly influenced by the Volkslieder of his
country, the words of which he loved to repeat to himself, as
they suggested ideas even for his instrumental compositions.
His arrangements of Volkslieder mark an epoch in that field
of work.1
In the history of song Brahms's name is likely to stand for the
closing of a chapter. It is difficult to conceive of more com-
plete work on lines that are essentially classical. The soundest
traditions find in him their justification and their consummation.
He has enshrined the best thought and the noblest feeling of
his age in forms where elaboration and complexity of detail serve
essential purposes of interpretation, and are never used as a
brilliant artifice to conceal foundations which are insecure.
It is not proposed to discuss the work and tendencies of
contemporary German composers — of whom Felix Weingartner
(b. 1863), Max Reger (b. 1873) and Richard Strauss have at-
tracted the largest share of attention. The above summary,
though necessarily incomplete and confined only to the most
conspicuous names, may yet provide some points of view from
which the songs of other countries than Germany may be re-
garded, especially those in which German conceptions and German
methods of technique have been dominant factors. Actual
settings of German lyrics figure largely in the works of many
non-German composers, and these it is hard to judge except
by German standards. But, strongly as German influence has
been felt in Russia, for instance, in Norway and in Finland,
yet the last half century has seen the rise of more distinctly
national schools of song in all these countries, and to this result
the cult of the folk-song has very largely contributed. Glinka,
Rimsky-Korsakov, Borodin, Balakirev, Cesar Cui (b. 1835),
and Moussorgsky in Russia, Nordraak (1842-1866) and Grieg
in Norway, Sibelius (b. 1865) in Finland, are conspicuous names
in this connexion.
The Latin countries have, as is natural, been but little subject
to German influences; of these France alone seems to be working
her way towards a solution of artistic problems Modern
which has interest for those who live beyond her French •
borders and which bears emphatically her own hall- Sonz-
mark. The melodious style of Gounod, which has so powerfully
affected composers like Massenet, Godard and Widor, has
'Their value may be tested by comparing them with the small
volume containing arrangements by R. Franz, which are sympatheti-
cally done but without inspiration, with those of Tappert, which are
models of what such things ought not to be, and with the dull,
uninviting work of A. Saran. Many of Reimann's arrangements,
however, deserve cordial recognition as both sympathetic and
scholarly. One fact emerges clearly from the study of folk-song
arrangements, in Germany and elsewhere, that success depends upon
qualities which are as rare as, and are seldom dissociated from, the
power of original composition. Only a great composer can be a great
arranger.
412
SONG
begun to yield during the last quarter of a century to tendencies
which correspond closely with those of the impressionist move-
ments in French literature and painting. The deeper side of
the movement, in which a strong element of mysticism plays
an important part, is represented in the best songs of Cesar
Franck, Faure and Bruneau, a notable group of composers,
whose occasional extravagances are atoned for by original
impressions of nature in her more unusual moods, and by much
that arrests attention both in thought and style. The songs of
Duparc (b. 1848) and Vincent d'Indy likewise repay study.
Nothing can be clearer than that traditional methods were
inadequate, if modern French poetry was to find interpretation
in the sister sphere of music ; but how far the work of composers
such as those named is likely to be regarded as final, it is pre-
mature to ask. The world had hardly had time to feel at home
with them before it was called upon to face what it is difficult
not to regard as representing the extreme limits of impressionistic
style in Debussy. We are still too much accustomed to melody
and rhythm, to harmonies that have some intelligible principle
in their successions, to judge securely of music which is neither
melodious nor rhythmical nor in the accepted sense harmonious.
We are still too much accustomed to music regulated by analys-
able laws to feel at ease with music that seems, at any rate at
present, to acknowledge none. Whether the work of Debussy
is the beginning of a new epoch the future alone can decide, but
it is permissible to feel apprehensive of an art which is based
upon impressions rather than upon convictions; and the value
of impressions is apt to be measured more by the degree in which
they are fugitive, elusive, evanescent, or merely peculiar to the
composer's temperament, than by the relation which they bear
to permanent elements in nature or humanity. Hence in the
modern school of song-writers, which finds its culmination in
Debussy, the quality of unselfconsciousness is the one which
seems most difficult for them to attain. In French art we are
too often reminded how close the sublime is to the ridiculous,
the dramatic to the theatrical, pathos to bathos, truth to paradox.
Even in the quieter pictures we are conscious of a forced atmo-
sphere, an unnatural calm, not the abiding peace of a landscape by
Corot or Millet. Lastly, the opinion of Bruneau (La Musique
franqaise, p. 233) that prose will in time supplant poetry in
drama and song is, at least to those to whom form is still an
essential element of beauty, a disquieting omen for the future.
The best qualities of the French nation, its unaffected gaiety, its
sincerity, grace, humour, pathos, tenderness, are far more
touchingly and truthfully revealed in the simple melodies of
the country-side — or in the less pretentious songs (of which
Bruneau and Massenet have given examples, as well as many
others) formed upon their model.
Limitations of space do not form the only reason for dealing
in a cursory manner with English songs of the igth century.
Modem A more valid one is to be found in the absence,
English until its two closing decades, of great names to
Song. which can be attached the history of any orderly
development, of any well-conceived and definite ideals.
The authors of the very limited number of good songs are too
oftep the authors of others in larger quantities which are bad,
and that not in every case owing to failure of inspiration but
to a lowering of ideals in order to gratify the tastes of an unin-
telligent public on the one hand, and the demands of exacting
publishers on the other. That a healthier art might have arisen
is indicated by the presence of such songs as Hatton's " To
Anthea," Loder's unexpectedly fine setting of " The Brooklet "
(the words of which Schubert had already immortalized in its
original German version as "Wohin"), Sullivan's fresh and
original settings of several Shakespearian lyrics, and of Tennyson's
uninspired cycle of verses entitled " The Songs of the Wrens,"
and Clay's " I'll sing thee songs of Araby." The name of
Sterndale Bennett stands out as that of a composer who remained
steadfastly true to his ideals. His output was indeed a small
one, and covered a somewhat limited range of style and feeling:
but the thought, like the workmanship, is always of delicate
and beautiful quality. Though Mendelssohn's influence is
apparent he has a touch which is all his own. " To Chloe in
sickness," " Forget-me-not," " Gentle Zephyr " and " Sing,
Maiden, sing," have certainly not yet lost their charm. Stern-
dale Bennett marks the beginning of higher ideals in English
song — but it is only within the last twenty-five years that we
have begun to see their realization, owing to the training of
many English musicians in German schools and to the increasing
familiarity of the musical public with the best German Lied.tr.
The lead has been taken by Parry and Stanford — composers
who have published large numbers of songs in great variety of
styles, and with uniform seriousness of aim and treatment.
Parry's delightfully fresh early work is represented at its best
in " A Spring Song," " A Contrast," and " Why does azure deck
the skies?" The transition to a later manner is marked by the
four anacreontic odes; and several small volumes of lyrics
have since made their appearance. If some of these miss the
true lyrical note, of which absolute spontaneity is an essential
condition, yet a lofty level of thought and workmanship is
always manifest, rising to highest inspiration perhaps in " When
we two parted," " Through the ivory gate," and " I'm weaving
Sweet Violets." Stanford has essayed songs in many styles,
suited to poems drawn from many periods, but he is most
himself and most successful in Keats's weird and dramatic ballad
" La Belle dame sans merci," in Browning's cavalier songs, in
the cycle of sea songs (H. Newbolt) and above all in the Irish
idyll (Moira O'Neill) — where in six pieces of rarest beauty the
composer has revealed different phases of Irish feeling, pathos
and humour with a poetical and imaginative power unequalled
in British art. It is hard to imagine a more perfect alliance
between poetry and music, from the general conception of each
song down to the minutest detail of declamation, than is found
here. As an arranger of Irish melodies — of which four volumes
have been published — Stanford has also shown himself a com-
plete master. Cowen, Mackenzie and Elgar have contributed
few songs worthy of reputations gained in larger forms of com-
position. Of the work done and being done by younger com-
posers much might be said. There is activity in many directions;
a cycle of songs by Arthur Somervell from Tennyson's Maud,
•is an artistic work of very real value, beautiful and original as
music, and forming a highly interesting commentary upon
the poem. R. Vaughan Williams, in the more difficult task
of setting six sonnets from Rossetti's House of Life and in
three of Stevenson's Songs of Travel, has displayed imaginative
qualities of a remarkable order. Not less original is the highly
finished and poetical work of H. Walford Davies. Somewhat
slighter in style and thought, but instinct with true lyrical
tenderness and charm, are the songs of Roger Quilt er, drawn
mainly from the Elizabethan period, and the poems of Herrick.
Various songs by Maude V. White, W. H. Hadow, Hamilton
Harty, Harold Darke, Ernest Walker, Donald Tovey, William
Wallace and others give evidence, with the work already men-
tioned, of a revolution in the treatment and conception of
song .in England, which is full of promise for the future. Its
fulfilment however is likely to depend upon a change in the
'prevailing conditions, under which professional vocalists have
a financial interest in popularizing inferior productions. Good
songs, apart from the initial difficulty of finding a publisher,
are thus penalized from the start, whilst the larger and less
instructed portion of the public, which forms its taste upon what
the singers of the day provide, remains ignorant of precisely
those works which are most necessary for its enlightenment.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. — In Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians
(new ed.) Mrs E. Woodhouse's article on " Song " (vol. iv.) gives a
practically exhaustive bibliography of the whole subject of song
and folk-song, country by country; her account is quite unique, and
indispensable to the student. The following list is mainly of books
which the present writer has found most valuable: Sir Hubert
Parry, Art of Music (London, 1897); Oxford History of Music
(1901-1905), esp. vol. iii.;" The Seventeenth Century "bySirHubert
Parry, vol. iv.; " The Age of Bach and Handel " by J. A. Fuller-
Maitland, vol. v. ; " The Viennese Period " by W. H. Hadow, vol. vi. ;
"The Romantic Period" by E. Dannreuther ; Combarieu, La
Musique, ses lois et son evolution (Paris, 1907) ; Ambros, Geschichte
der Musik (1862-1882) ; Coussemaker, Histoire de I'harmonie au moyen
SONG
Age (1852) ; Kiesewetter, Schicksale u. Beschaffenheit des weltlichen
Gesanges (1841); Reissmann, Das deutsche Lied (1861 ; rewritten as
Geschichte des deutschen Liedes, 1874); Schneider, Das musikalische
Lied (1863) ; E. Walker, History of Musicin England (1907) ; VV. Nagel,
Geschichte der Musik in England (1894-1897); C. J. Sharp, English
Folk-songs, some Conclusions (1907) ; J. Tiersot, Histoire de la chanson
populaire en France (1889) ; Lavoix, La Musique franfaise (1891).
Collections of songs with valuable introduction and notes (those
marked with an asterisk have pianoforte accompaniments) : F. M.
Boehme, Altdeutsches Liederbuch (Breitkopf & Hartel, 1877);
Gaston Paris and Gevaert, Chansons du XV' siecle (Paris, 1875);
J. Tiersot, Chansons populaires des Alpes fran$aises (Grenoble, 1903) ;
De la Villemarque, Barzaz-Breiz, Chansons pop. de la Bretagne
(Paris, 1867); *Bourgault-Ducoudray, 30 melodies pop. de la Basse-
Bretagne (Paris, 1885); *Champfleury and Weckerlin, Chansons pop.
des provinces de France (Paris, 1860); *Weckerlin, Echos du temps
passe (3 vols., Paris, 1855), and *Chansons pop. du pays de France
(2 vols. Paris, 1903); *V. D'Indy, Chansons pop. du Vivarais, op.
52 (Paris) ; Hjalmar Thuren, Folkesangen paa Faererne (Copenhagen,
1908) ; F. van Duyse, Het oude nederlandsche Lied (The Hague,
1903-1905) ; *E. Closson, Chansons pop. des provinces beiges (Brussels,
I9°5) I *Bourgault-Ducoudray, 30 melodies, pop. de Grece et d'orient
(Paris, 1897) ; Eugenie Lineff , Peasant Songs of Great Russia (St
Petersburg and London, 1905) ; *W. Chappell, Popular Music of the
Olden Time (London, 1855-1859); *E Wooldridge, revised edition of
the above, with title Old English Popular Music (London, 1893);
Folk-song Society's Journals; *C. J. Sharp, Folk-songs from Somerset
(5 vols., Barnicott & Pearce, Taunton) ; *J. A. Fuller-Maitland and
L. E. Broadwood, County Songs (Novello) ; *Sharpand Baring-Gould,
Songs of the West (Methuen); *L. E. Broadwood, English Traditional
Songs and Carols (Boosey). (W. A. J. F.)
THE SONG OF BIRDS
The characteristic modulated voice of birds is the outstanding
example of natural " song " in the animal world. The essential
requirements of a vocal organ, the pressure of vibratory mem-
branes or chord, are found in the bird's syrinx (see BIRD),
but how these membranes act in particular, and how their
tension is modified by the often numerous syringeal muscles,
we do not know. The voice of birds is produced entirely by the
syrinx; the larynx no doubt modifies it, but the tongue seems
to play no part in it. The " loosening of the tongue " by cutting
its frenum, in order to assist a bird in talking &c., is an abso-
lutely silly operation. The possession of the most elaborate
syrinx is not enough to enable a bird to sing. In this respect
they are like ourselves: special mental faculties are required
to control the apparatus. Anatomically the raven has the
same elaborate syrinx as the thrush or the nightingale, and yet
the raven cannot " sing " although it can modulate its voice
and can even learn to talk. As a rule the faculty of singing
is restricted to the males, although the females possess the same
organs; moreover, birds vary individually. Some learn to sing
marvellously well, while others remain tyros in spite of the best
education. But given all the necessary mental faculties,
birds sing only when they are in such a healthy condition that
there is a surplus of energy. This, of course, is greatest during
the time of propagation, when much of the surplus of the general
metabolism comes out — to use . homely words — in unwonted
functions, such as dancing, posing, spreading of feathers and
giving voice. Every one of these muscular exertions is a spasm,
releasing some energy, and — again in homely parlance —
relieving the mind. In many cases these antics and other
manifestations become rhythmical, and music consists of
rhythmical sounds. Of course birds, like other creatures, are
to a certain extent reflex machines, and they often sing because
they cannot help it, just as male frogs continue to croak long
after the pairing season, and not necessarily because they or
their mates appreciate those sounds. But birds stand mentally
on such a high level that we can scarcely doubt that in many
cases they enjoy, and therefore sing their song. Many a tame
bird, a canary, starling, magpie, will repay its keeper with its
song, out of season, for any kindness shown to it, or for his
mere presence.
If we regard any sound made by a bird under the all-powerful
influence of love or lust as its " song," then probably every bird
is possessed of this faculty, but in the ordinary acceptance of
the term very few, besides the oscines, can sing, and even this
group contains many which, like the ravens and the crows,
are decidedly not songsters. On the other hand, it seems unfair
not to call the charming series of notes of the dove its song.
D. Barrington in a very remarkable paper (" Experiments
and Observations on the Singing of Birds," Phil. Trans., 1773,
pp. 240-291) defines a bird's song " to be a succession of three
or more different notes, which are continued without interruption
during the same interval with a musical bar of four crotchets
in an adagio movement, or whilst a pendulum swings four
seconds." The late A. Newton (Ency. Brit., pth ed., iii. 771;
see also Diet. Birds, s.v. " Song," pp. 892-894), taking a much
wider view of " song," proceeds as follows: —
" It seems impossible to draw any but an arbitrary line between
the deep booming of the emeu, the harsh cry of the guillemot
(which, when proceeding from a hundred or a thousand throats,
strikes the distant ear in a confused murmur like the roar of a
tumultuous crowd), the plaintive wail of the plover, the melo-
dious whistle of the wigeon, ' the cock's shrill clarion,' the
scream of the eagle, the hoot of the owl, the solemn chime of
the bell -bird, the whip-cracking of the manakin, the chaffinch's
joyous burst, or the hoarse croak of the raven, on the one hand,
and the bleating of the snipe or the drumming of the ruffled
grouse, on the other. Innumerable are the forms which such
utterances take. In many birds the sounds are due to a com-
bination of vocal and instrumental powers, or, as in the cases
last mentioned, to the latter only. But, however produced —
and of the machinery whereby they are accomplished there is
not room here to speak — all have the same cause and the same ,
effect. The former has been already indicated, and the latter
is its consummation. Almost coinstantaneously with the hatch-
ing of the nightingale's brood the song of the sire is hushed,
and the notes to which we have for weeks hearkened with rapt
admiration are changed to a guttural croak, expressive of
alarm and anxiety, inspiring a sentiment of the most opposite
character. No greater contrast can be imagined, and no
instance can be cited which more completely points out the
purpose which ' song ' fulfils in the economy of the bird, for
if the nightingale's nest at this early time be destroyed or its
contents removed, the cock speedily recovers his voice, and his
favourite haunts again resound to his bewitching strains. For
them his mate is content again to undergo the wearisome round
of nest-building and incubation. But should some days elapse
before disaster befalls their callow care, his constitution under-
goes a change and no second attempt to rear a family is made.
It would seem as though a mild temperature, and the abundance
of food by which it is generally accompanied, prompt the phy-
siological alteration which inspires the males of most birds
to indulge in the ' song ' peculiar to them. Thus after the annual
moult is accomplished, and this is believed to be the most critical
epoch in the life of any bird, cock thrushes, skylarks, and others
begin to sing, not indeed with the* jubilant voice of spring but
in an uncertain cadence which is quickly silenced by the super-
vention of cold weather. Yet some birds we have which,
except during the season of moult, hard frost, and time of snow,
sing almost all the year round. Of these the redbreast and the
wren are familiar examples, and the chiffchaff repeats its two-
noted cry, almost to weariness, during the whole period of its
residence in this country.
" Akin to the ' song of birds,' and undoubtedly proceeding
from the same cause, are the peculiar gestures which the males
of many perform under the influence of the approaching season
of pairing, but these again are far too numerous here to describe
with particularity. It must suffice to mention a few cases.
The ruff on his hillock in a marsh holds a war-dance. The
snipe and some of his allies mount aloft and wildly execute
unlooked-for evolutions almost in the clouds. The woodcock
and many of the goatsuckers beat evening after evening the
same aerial path with its sudden and sharp turnings. The
ring-dove rises above the neighbouring trees and then with
motionless wings slides down to the leafy retreat they afford.
The capercally and blackcock, perched on a commanding
eminence, throw themselves into postures that defy the skill
of the caricaturist — other species of the grouse-tribe assume
414-
SONGHOI— SONNET
the strangest attitudes and run in circles till the turf is worn
bare. The peacock in pride spreads his train so as to show how
nearly akin are the majestic and the ludicrous. The bower-
bird, not content with its own splendour, builds an arcade,
decked with bright feathers and shining shells, through and
around which he paces with his gay companions. The larks
and pipits never deliver their song so well as when seeking the
upper air. Rooks rise one after the other to a great height
and, turning on their back, wantonly precipitate themselves
many yards towards the ground, while the solemn raven does
not scorn a similar feat, and, with the tenderest of croaks, glides
supinely alongside or in front of his mate."
The following may be cited as the principal treatises on the
subject, besides Barrington's paper quoted above: J. Blackwall,
Mem. Litt. Phil. Soc., Manchester (1824), pp. 289-323; also in
Froriep's Notizen (1825), col. 292-298; F. Savart, Memoir sur la
voix des oiseaux, Froriep's Notizen (1826), col. l-io; C. L. Brehm,
Naumannia (1855), pp. 54-59, 96-101, 181-195; and Journ. f.
Ornith. (1855, pp. 348-351; 1856, pp. 250-255); C. Gloger, Journ.f.
Ornith. (1859), pp. 439-459; J. E. Halting, Birds of Middlesex
(London, 1866), where the notes of many of the common English
birds are musically expressed; J. A. Allen, Bull. Comp. Zool.
Harvard (1871), ii. 166-450; L. Paolucci, // Canto degli uccelli (Milan,
1878), and Muano soc. ital. atti. 20 (1877), pp. 125-247; C. L. Hett,
A Dictionary of Bird Notes (Brigg, 1898) ; C. A. Witchell, Bird-Song
and its Scientific Teaching (Gloucester, 1892); F. S. Mathews, Field
Book of Wild Birds and their Music (New York, 1904). See also
W. Warde Fowler, A Year With the Birds (1886). (H. F. G.)
SONGHOI, SONRHAY, SURHAI, &c., a great negroid race in-
habiting a large tract of country on both banks of the middle
Niger. They formed a distinct state from the 8th to the i6th
century, being at one period masters of Timbuktu (q.ii.) and the
most powerful nation in the western Sudan. The origin of this
people, who are said still to number some two millions, though
their national independence is lost, has been a source of much
dispute. Heinrich Barth, who has given the fullest account of
them, reckoned them as aborigines of the Niger valley; but he also
tried to connect them with the Egyptians. The people them-
selves declare their original home to have been to the eastward,
but it seems unlikely that they or their culture are to be connected
at all with the Nile valley. According to the Tarik 6 Sudan, a
i ;th century history of the Sudan written by Abderrahman
Sadi of Timbuktu, the first king of the Songhoi was called
Dialliaman (Arabic Dia min al Jemen, " he is come from Yemen "),
and the account given in this Arabic manuscript leaves little
doubt that he was an Arab adventurer who, as has been fre-
quently the case, became chief of a negro people and led them
westward. The Songhoi emigration must have begun towards
the middle of the 7th century, for Jenne, their chief city, was
founded one hundred and fifty years after the Hejira (about
A.D. 765), and it represents the extreme western point in their
progress. From a hundred to a hundred and twenty years
would be about the time whtch must be allowed for the years
of wandering and those of settlement and occupation in the
Songhoi countries. In the north they have mixed with the
Ruma " Moors," and in the south with the Fula. The Songhoi,
then, are probably Sudanese negroes much mixed with Berber
and even Arab blood, who settled among and crossed with the
natives of the Niger valley, over whom they long ruled.
In their physique they bear out this theory. Although
often as black as the typical West African, their faces are fre-
quently more refined than those of pure negroes. The nose of
the Songhoi is straight and long, pointed rather than flat; the
lips are comparatively thin, and in profile and jaw "projection
they are easily distinguishable from the well-known nigritic
type. They are tall, well-made and slim. In character, too,
they are a contrast to the merry light-heartedness of the true
negro. Barth says that of all races he met in negroland they
were the most morose, unfriendly and churlish. The Songhoi
language, which, owing to its widespread use, is, with Hausa,
called Kalam al Sudan (" language of the Sudan " ) by the
Arabs, is often known as Kissur. According to Friedrich Muller
it resembles in structure none of the neighbouring tongues,
though its vocabulary shows Arab influence. Keane states that
the language " has not the remotest connexion with any form
of speech known to have been at any time current in the Nile
valley."
See Heinrich Barth, Travels and Discoveries in Northern and
Central Africa (1857-1858); A. H. Keane, Man Past and Present
(Cambridge, 1899); Brix Forster in Globus, Ixxi. 193; Felix Dubois,
Timbuctoo the Mysterious (1897); Lady Lugard, A Tropical Depen-
dency (1905).
SONNEBERG, a town of Germany, in the duchy of Saxe-
Meiningen, situated in a narrow valley of the Thuringian forest,
13 m. by rail N.E. of Coburg. Pop. (1905), 15,003. It is famous
for its manufacture of toys; its other industries are the making
of glass and porcelain articles, electrical works and breweries.
The town possesses a fine Gothic church, and a hydropathic
establishment.
SONNENTHAL, ADOLF VON (1834-1909), Austrian actor,
was born of Jewish parentage in Budapest on the 2ist of Decem-
ber 1834. Though brought up in penury and apprenticed to a
working tailor, he yet cultivated the histrionic art, and was
fortunate in receiving the support of a co-religionist, the actor
Bogumil Dawison, who trained him for the stage. He made
his first appearance at Temesvar in 1851, and after engagements
at Hermannstadt and Graz came in the winter of 1855-1856 to
Konigsberg in Prussia, where his first performance was so
successful that he was engaged by Heinrich Laube for the
Burgtheater in Vienna, making his first appearance as Mortimer
in Schiller's Maria Stuart. Under Laube's careful tuition he
developed within three years into an actor of the first order,
excelling both in tragedy and comedy; and in 1882, after 25
years of brilliant service at the Court Theatre, he was given a
patent of nobility. In 1884 he became manager-in-chief of
the theatre; and in 1887-1888 acted as artistic adviser. He
visited the United States in 1885, and again, in 1899 and 1902,
achieving great success. His chief parts were Nathan in Lessing's
Nathan der Weise, Wallenstein, and Der Meister von Palmyra.
SONNET (Ital. Sonetto, dim. of Suono, Fr. Sonnet). The sonnet
in the literature of modern Europe is a brief poetic form of
fourteen rhymed verses, ranged according to prescription.
Although in a language like the English it does no doubt require
considerable ingenuity to construct a satisfactory sonnet of
octave and sestet running upon four rhymes, this ingenuity is
only a means to an end, the end being properly that a single
wave of emotion, when emotion is either too deeply charged
with thought, or too much adulterated with fancy, to pass spon-
taneously into the movements of pure lyric, shall be embodied
in a single metrical flow and return. Whether any given
sonnet be composed like that of Pier delle Vigne (of two quatrains
with rhymes running a, b, a, b, a, b, a, b, and of two tercets with
rhymes running, c, d, e, c, d, e), or whether the verses be arranged
(on the authority of Shakespeare and Drayton) in three quatrains
of alternate rhymes clinched by a couplet, or, as in the sonnet of
Petrarch, in an octave of two rhymes and a sestet of either
two or three rhymes — in each case the peculiar pleasure which
the ear derives from the sonnet as a metrical form lies in the
number and arrangement of the verses being prescribed, and
distinctly recognizable as being prescribed. That the impulse
to select for the rendering of single phases of feeling or reflection
a certain recognized form is born of a natural and universal
instinct is perhaps evidenced by the fact that, even when a
metrical arrangement discloses no structural law demanding a
prescriptive number and arrangement of verses, the poet will
nevertheless, in certain moods, choose to restrict himself to a
prescribed number and arrangement, as in the cases of the
Italian slornello, the Welsh Iriban, and the beautiful rhymeless
short ode of Japanese poetry. And perhaps, if we probed the
matter deeply, we should find that the recognized prescription
of form gives a sense of oneness that nothing else save the
refrain can give to a poem which, being at once too long for a
stanza in a series and too short to have the self-sustaining power
of the more extended kinds of poetic art, suffers by suggesting
to the ear a sense of the fragmentary and the inchoate. It is
not then merely the number of the verses, it is also their arrange-
ment as to rhymes — an arrangement leading the ear to expect
SONNET
a prescribed sequence and then satisfying that expectation —
which entitles a form of fourteen verses to be called a sonnet.
Hence the so-called irregular sonnets of S. T. Coleridge,
which lead the ear of the reader to expect the pleasure of a
prescribed arrangement when what they have to offer is a
pleasure of an exactly opposite kind — the pleasure of an absolute
freedom from prescribed arrangement — are unsatisfactory,
while (as the present writer has often pointed out) the same
poet's fourteen-line poem, " Work without Hope," in which the
reader expects and gets freedom from prescription, is entirely
satisfactory. This same little poem of Coleridge's also affords
an excellent illustration of another point in connexion with the
sonnet. If we trace the history and the development of the
sonnet from Pier delle Vigne to D. G. Rossetti we shall find
that the poet's quest from the very first has been to write a
poem in fourteen verses so arranged that they should, better
than any other number and arrangement of verses, produce a
certain melodic effect upon the ear, and an effect, moreover,
that should bear iteration and reiteration in other poems
similarly constructed. Now if we ask ourselves whether,
beautiful as is this poem, " Work without Hope," taken as a
single and original metrical arrangement, we should get out of
a series of poems modelled line for line upon it that pleasure of
iteration which we get out of a series of Petrarchan sonnets, we
shall easily see why the regular sonnet of octave and sestet on
the one hand, and what is called the Shakespearean sonnet on
the other, have survived all other competing forms.
In modern Europe the sonnet has always had a peculiar
fascination for poets of the first class — poets, that is, in whom
poetic energy and plastic power are equally combined. It would
seem that the very fact that the sonnet is a recognized structure
suggestive of mere art — suggestive in some measure, indeed, of
what Schiller would call " sport " in art — has drawn some of the
most passionate poets in the world to the sonnet as the medium
of their sincerest utterances. Without being coldly artificial, like
the rondeau, the sestina, the ballade, the villanelle, &c., the sonnet
is yet so artistic in structure, its form is so universally known,
recognized, and adopted as being artistic, that the too fervid
spontaneity and reality of the poet's emotion may be in a certain
degree veiled, and the poet can whisper, as from behind a mask,
those deepest secrets of the heart which could otherwise only
find expression in purely dramatic forms.
That the sonnet was invented, not in Provence, as French
critics pretend, but in Italy in the I3th century, is pretty clear,
but by whom is still perhaps an open question. S. Waddington
and several other critics have attributed to Fra Guittone the
honour of having invented the form. But J. A. Symonds has
reminded us that the sonnet beginning Pero ch' amore, attributed
to Pier delle Vigne, secretary of state in the Sicilian court of
Frederick, has claims which no student of early Italian poetry
can ignore.
As regards English sonnets, whether the Petrarchan and the
Shakespearean are really the best of all possible forms we need
not inquire. But, inasmuch as they have become so vital and
so dominant over other sonnet forms that whenever we begin to
read the first verse of an English sonnet we expect to find one
or other of these recognized rhyme-arrangements, any departure
from these two arrangements, even though the result be such a
magnificent poem as Shelley's " Ozymandias," disappoints
the expectation, baffles the ear, and brings with it that sense
of the fragmentary and the inchoate to which we have before
alluded. If, however, some writer should arise with sufficient
originality of metrical endowment and sufficient poetic power
to do what Keats, in a famous experiment of his, tried to do
and failed — impress the public ear with a new sonnet structure,
impress the public ear so powerfully that a new kind of expectance
is created the moment the first verse of a sonnet is recited1 — then
there will be three kinds of English sonnets instead of two.
With regard to the Petrarchan sonnet, all critics are perhaps
now agreed that, while the form of the octave is invariable,
the form of the sestet is absolutely free, save that the emotions
should govern the arrangement of the verses. But as regards
the division between octave and sestet, Mark Pattison says,
with great boldness, but perhaps with truth, that by blending
octave with sestet Milton missed the very object and end of
the Petrarchan scheme. Another critic, however, Hall Caine,
contends that by making " octave flow into sestet without break
of music or thought " Milton consciously or unconsciously in-
vented a new form of sonnet; that is to say, Milton, in his use
of the Petrarchan octave and sestet for the embodiment of
intellectual substance incapable of that partial disintegration
which Petrarch himself always or mostly sought, invented a
species of sonnet which is English in impetus, but Italian, or
partially Italian, in structure. Hence this critic, like William
Sharp, divides all English sonnets into four groups: (i) sonnets
of Shakespearean structure; (2) sonnets of octave and sestet of
Miltonic structure; (3) sonnets of contemporary structure, i.e. all
sonnets on the Petrarchan model in which the metrical and
intellectual " wave of flow and ebb " (as originally formulated
by the present writer in a sonnet on the sonnet, which has
appeared in most of the recent anthologies) is strictly observed,
and in which, while the rhyme-arrangement of the octave is
invariable, that of the sestet is free; (4) sonnets cf miscellaneous
structure.
With regard to what is called the contemporary form— a
Petrarchan arrangement with the sestet divided very sharply
from the octave — the crowning difficulty and the crowning
triumph of the sonnet writer has always been to so handle the
rhythm of the prescribed structure as to make it seem in each
individual sonnet the inevitable and natural rhythm demanded
by the emotion which gives the individual sonnet birth, and this
can perhaps only be achieved when the richness and apparent
complexity of the rhyme-arrangement is balanced by that
perfect lucidity and simplicity of syntax which is the special
quest of the " sonnet of flow and ebb."
The wave theory has found acceptance with such students
of the sonnet as Rossetti and Mark Pattison, J. A. Symonds,
Hall Caine, and William Sharp. Symonds, indeed, seems to
hint that the very name given by the Italians to the two tercets,
the volta or turn, indicates the metrical meaning of the form.
" The striking metaphorical symbol," says he, " drawn from the
observation of the swelling and declining wave can even in some
examples be applied to sonnets on the Shakespearean model;
for, as a wave may fall gradually or abruptly, so the sonnet may
sink with stately volume or with precipitate subsidence to its
close. Rossetti furnishes incomparable examples of the former
and more desirable conclusion; Sydney Dobell, in ' Home in
War Time,' yields an extreme specimen of the latter."
And now as to the Shakespearean sonnet. Some very acute
critics have spoken as if this form were merely a lawless succes-
sion of three quatrains clinched by a couplet, and as if the number
of the quatrains might just as well have been two or four as the
present prescribed number of three. If this were so, it would
unquestionably be a serious impeachment of the Shakespearean
sonnet, for, save in the poetry of ingenuity, no metric arrangement
is otherwise than bad unless it be the result of a deep metrical
necessity.
If the prescriptive arrangement of three quatrains clinched
by a couplet is not a metrical necessity, if it is not demanded
in order to prevent the couplet from losing its power, such an
arrangement is idle and worse than idle; just as in the case of
the Petrarchan sonnet, if it can be shown that the solid unity of
the outflowing wave can be maintained as completely upon
three rhymes as upon two, then the restriction of the octave
to two rhymes is simple pedantry. But he who would test the
metrical necessity of the arrangement in the Shakespearean
sonnet has only to make the experiment of writing a poem of
two quatrains with a couplet, and then another poem of four
quatrains with a couplet, in order to see how inevitable is the
metrical necessity of the Shakespearean number and arrange-
ment for the achievement of the metrical effect which Shakespeare,
Drayton and others sought. While in the poem of two quat-
rains the expected couplet has the sharp epigrammatic effect
of the couplet in ordinary stanzas (such as that of ottava rima.
416
SONNINO— SONPUR
and as that of the " Venus and Adonis " stanza), destroying that
pensive sweetness which is the characteristic of the Shake-
spearean sonnet, the poem of four quatrains is just sufficiently
long for the expected pleasure of the couplet to be dispersed
and wasted.
The quest of the Shakespearean sonnet is not, like that of
the sonnet of octave and sestet, sonority, and, so to speak,
metrical counterpoint, but sweetness; and the sweetest of all
possible arrangements in English versification is a succession
of decasyllabic quatrains in alternate rhymes knit together and
clinched by a couplet — a couplet coming not so far from the
initial verse as to lose its binding power, and yet not so near the
initial verse that the ring of epigram disturbs the " linked
sweetness long drawn out " of this movement, but sufficiently
near to shed its influence over the poem back to the initial verse.
A chief part of the pleasure of the Shakespearean sonnet is the
expectance of the climacteric rest of the couplet at the end (just
as a chief part of the pleasure of the sonnet of octave and
sestet is the expectance of the answering ebb of the sestet when
the close of the octave has been reached); and this expectance
is gratified too early if it comes after two quatrains, while if it
comes after a greater number of quatrains than three it is
dispersed and wasted altogether.
The French sonnet has a regular Petrarchan octave with a
sestet of three rhymes beginning with a couplet. The Spanish
sonnet is also based on the pure Italian type, and is extremely
graceful and airy. The same may be said of the Portuguese
sonnet — a form of which the illustrious Camoens has left nearly
three hundred examples. (T. W.-D.)
See also ENGLISH LITERATURE : 3. Elizabethan ; Sidney Lee on the
Elizabethan sonnet in Arber's English Garner (1904) ; J. A. Noble,
The Sonnet in England (1893); M. Jasinski, Histoire du sonnet en
France (1903); C. A. Lentzner, Das Sonnett in d. eng. Dichtung bis
Milton (1886); S. Waddington, English Sonnets by Living Writers
(1881), and Sonnets of Europe (1886) ; T. Hall Caine, Sonnets of Three
Centuries (1882); William Sharp, Sonnets of this Century (1886), and
American Sonnets (1889); John Dennis, English Sonnets (1873).
SONNINO, SIDNEY, BARON (1847- ), Italian statesman
and financier, was born at Florence on the nth of March 1847.
Entering the diplomatic service at an early age, he was appointed
successively to the legations of Madrid, Vienna, Berlin and
Versailles, but in 1871 returned to Italy, to devote himself to
political and social studies. On his own initiative he conducted
exhaustive inquiries into the conditions of the Sicilian peasants
and of the Tuscan mltayers, and in 1877 published in co-operation
with Signor Leopoldo Franchetti a masterly work on Sicily (La
Sicilia, Florence, 1877). In 1878 he founded a weekly economic
review, La Rassegna Seltimanale, which four years later he con-
verted into a political daily journal. Elected deputy in 1880,
he distinguished himself by trenchant criticism of Magliani's
finance, and upon the fall of Magliani was for some months,
in 1889, under-secretary of state for the treasury. In view of
the severe monetary crisis of 1893 he was entrusted by Crispi
with the portfolio of finance (December 1893), and in spite of
determined opposition dealt energetically and successfully
with the deficit of more than £6,000,000 then existing in
the exchequer. Uy abolishing the illusory pensions fund, by
applying and amending the Bank Laws, effecting economies,
and increasing taxation upon corn, incomes from consolidated
stock, salt and matches, he averted national bankruptcy, and
placed Italian finance upon a sounder basis than at any time
since the fall of the Right. Though averse from the policy of
unlimited colonial expansion, he provided by a loan for the cost
of the Abyssinian War in which the tactics of General Baratieri
had involved the Crispi cabinet, but fell with Crispi after the
disaster at Adowa (March 1896). Assuming then the leadership
of the constitutional opposition, he combated the alliance
between the Di Rudini cabinet and the subversive parties,
criticized the financial schemes of the treasury minister, Luzzatti,
and opposed the " democratic " finance of the first Pelloux
administration as likely to endanger financial stability. After the
modification of the Pelloux cabinet (May 1899) he became leader
of the ministerial majority, and bore the brunt of the struggle
against Socialist obstruction in connexion with the Public
Safety Bill. Upon the formation of the Zanardelli cabinet
(Feb. 1901) he once more became leader of the constitutional
opposition, and in the autumn of the year founded a daily organ,
// Giornale d'ltalia, the better to propagate moderate Liberal
ideas. Although highly esteemed for his integrity and genuine
ability, it was not until February 1906 that he was called upon
to form a ministry, on the fall of the Fortis cabinet. He immedi-
ately set about introducing certain urgent reforms, suppressed
all subsidies to the press, and declared his intention of governing
according to law and justice. In May, however, an adverse vote of
the Chamber on a purely technical matter led to his resignation.
SONORA, a northern state of Mexico, bounded N. by the
United States, E. by Chihuahua, S. by Sinaloa and W. by the
Gulf of California. It is the second largest state in the republic,
having an area of 76,900 sq. m. Pop. (1900), 221,682, a large
part being Indian. The surface of the state is much broken by the
Sierra Madre Occidental, which extends through it from north to
south and covers its entire width with parallel ranges, enclosing
fertile valleys. Four important rivers traverse the state from
east to west with courses of 145 to 390 m. and discharge into the
Gulf of California, viz.: the Altar, or Asuncion, Sonora, Yaqui
and Mayo. The longest is the Yaqui, which has its source on
the eastern side of the Sierra Tarahumare in Chihuahua and
breaks through several ranges of the Sierra Madre before reaching
the gulf near Guaymas. The smaller tributaries of these
rivers of Sonora are often only dry canyons in the dry season.
Agriculture has been developed only to a limited extent in
Sonora, because of its aridity, lack of irrigation facilities, lack
of railways and roads, and the unsettled state of the country.
The soil of the sierra valleys is fertile, and when it is irrigated
forage and cereal crops may be grown in abundance. Sugar-
cane, tobacco, maguey, cotton, in small quantities, and fruits
are also produced. There are excellent pasture lai*ds, especially
in the upland districts, and stock-raising is an important and
profitable industry. Land is held in large estates, some of them
upwards of 100 sq. m. in area. The mineral resources include
silver, gold, copper, lead, tin, iron and coal, and mining is the
chief industry. The lack of transportation facilities has been
partly relieved by the construction of a branch of the Southern
Pacific (American) from Nogales southward to Guaymas and the
Sinaloa frontier, from which it has been extended to Mazatlan.
Guaymas is the only port of importance on the coast, but it
has a large trade and is visited by the steamers of several lines.
The capital of the state (since 1882) is Hermosillo (pop. 1900,
17,618), on the Sonora river, no m. north of Guaymas, with
which it is connected by rail. It suffered much in 1865-1866
from the savage struggle between Imperialists and Repub-
licans, and in subsequent partisan warfare. Other important
towns are Alamos (pop. 1895, 6197), 132 m. E.S.E. of
Guaymas, Moctezuma, 90 m. north of Hermosillo, and Ures,
the old capital of Sonora and seat of a bishopric, 33 m. north-
east of Hermosillo.
The first Jesuit mission in Sonora, founded among the Mayos
in 1613, seems to have been the first permanent settlement
in the state, although Coronado passed through it and its coast
had been visited by early navigators. The hostility of certain
tribes prevented its rapid settlement. Ures was founded in
1636, and Arizpe in 1648. Near the end of the century Sonora
and Sinaloa were divided into two districts, in 1767 the Jesuit
missions were secularized, in 1779 the government of the
province was definitely organized by Caballero de Croix, and
in 1783 Arizpe became the provincial capital. The bishopric of
Sonora was created in 1781 with Arizpe as its seat. Up to this
time the history of the province is little else than a record of
savage warfare with the Apaches, Serfs, Yaquis and other
tribes. The development of rich gold and silver mines brought
in more Spanish settlers, and then the recorcl changes to one of
partisan warfare, which continued down to the administration
of President Porfirio Diaz.
SONPUR, a feudatory state of India, in the Orissa division
of Bengal, to which it was transferred from the Central Provinces
SONSONATE— SOPHIA ALEKSYEEVNA
in 1905. Area, 906 sq. m. Pop. (1901), 169,877, showing a
decrease of 13% in the decade, due to the results of famine.
Estimated revenue £8000, tribute £600. The chief is a Rajput
of the Patna line. Rice and timber are exported, and iron ore
is said to abound. The town of Sonpur is on the Mahanadi
river just above the point where it enters Orissa. Pop. (1901),
8887.
SONSONATE, the capital of the department of Sonsonate,
Salvador; on the river Sensunapan and the railway from San Sal-
vador to the Pacific port of Acajutla, 13 m. south. Pop. (1905),
about 17,000. Sonsonate is the centre of a rich agricultural
district, and one of the busiest manufacturing towns in the
republic. It produces cotton cloth, pottery, mats and baskets,
boots and shoes, sugar, starch, cigars and spirits. Through
Acajutla it exports coffee and sugar, and imports grain for
distribution to all parts of the interior.
SOOT (O. Eng. sot, cf. Icel. sot, Dan. sod; possibly from root
sed, to sit), the black substance produced in the process of the
combustion of fuel and deposited in finely granulated particles
on the interior of chimneys or pipes through which the smoke
passes. Soot is a natural nitrogenous manure (.».), and its
value depends on the ammonia salts contained in it.
SOPHIA (1630-1714), electress of Hanover, twelfth child of
FrederickjV., elector palatine of the Rhine, by his wife Elizabeth,
a daughter of the English king James I., was born at the Hague
on the 1 4th of October 1630. Residing after 1649 at Heidelberg
with her brother, the restored elector palatine, Charles Louis,
she was betrothed to George William afterwards duke of
Liineburg-Celle; but in 1658 she married his younger brother,
Ernest Augustus, who became elector of Brunswick-Luneburg, or
Hanover, in 1692. Her married life was not a happy one. Her
husband was unfaithful ; three of her six sons fell in battle ;
and other family troubles included an abiding hostility between
her and Sophia Dorothea, the wife of her eldest son, George
Louis. Sophia became a widow in 1698, but before then her
name had been mentioned in connexion with the English throne.
When considering the Bill of Rights in 1689 the House of
Commons refused to place her in the succession, and the matter
rested until 1700 when the state of affairs in England was more
serious. William III. was ill and childless; William, duke of
Gloucester, the only surviving child of the princess Anne, had
just died. The strong Protestant feeling in the country, the
danger from the Stuarts, and the hostility of France, made it
imperative to exclude all Roman Catholics from the throne;
and the electress was the nearest heir who was a Protestant.
Accordingly by the Act of Settlement of 1701 the English Crown,
in default of issue from either William or Anne, was settled upon
" the most excellent princess Sophia, electress and duchess-
dowager of Hanover " and " the heirs of her body, being Pro-
testant." Sophia watched affairs in England during the reign
of Anne with great interest, although her son, the elector George
Louis, objected to any interference in that country, and Anne
disliked all mention of her successor. An angry letter from
Anne possibly hastened Sophia's death, which took place at
Herrenhausen on the 8th of June 1714; less than two months
later her son, George Louis, became king of Great Britain and
Ireland as George I. on the death of Anne. Sophia, who corre-
sponded with Leibnitz, was a strong woman both mentally and
physically, and possessed wide and cultured tastes.
See Memoiren der Kurfiirstin Sophie von Hannover, edited by
A. Kocher (Leipzig, 1879; Eng. trans., 1888); Briefwechsel der
Herzogin Sophie von Hannover mil ihrem Bruder, &c., edited by E.
Bodemann (Leipzig, 1885 and 1888); L. von Ranke, Aus den Briefen
der Herzogin von Orleans, Elisabeth Charlotte, an die Kurfurstin
Sophie von Hannover (Leipzig, 1870) ; E. Bodemann, A us den Briefen
der Herzogin, Elisabeth Charlotte von Orleans, an die Kurfurstin
Sophie von Hannover (Hanover, 1891); R. Fester, Kurfurstin Sophie
von Hannover (Hamburg, 1893); A. W. Ward, The Electress Sophia
and the Hanoverian Succession (London, 1909); O. Klopp, Der Fall
des Hauses Stuart (Vienna, 1875-1888); Correspondance de Leibnitz
avec I'electrice Sophie, edited by O. Klopp (Hanover, 1864-1875) ; and
R. S. Rait, Five Stuart Princesses (London, 1902).
SOPHIA ALEKSYEEVNA (1637-1704), tsarevna and regent
of Russia, was the third daughter of Tsar Alexius and Maria
xxv. 14
Miloslavskaya. Educated on semi-ecclesiastical lines by the
learned monk of Kiev, Polotsky, she emancipated herself
betimes from the traditional tyranny of the terem, or women's
quarters. Setting aside court etiquette, she had nursed her
brother Tsar Theodore III. in his last illness, and publicly
appeared at his obsequies, though it was usual only for the widow
of the deceased and his successor to the throne to attend that
ceremony. Three days after little Peter, then in his fourth
year, had been raised to the throne, she won over the stryeltsy,
or musketeers, who at her instigation burst into the Kreml,
murdering everyone they met, including Artamon Matvyeev,
Peter's chief supporter, and Ivan Naruishkin, the brother of the
tsaritsa-regent Natalia, Peter's mother (May 15-17, 1682).
When the rebellion was over there was found to be no
government. Everyone was panic-stricken and in hiding
except Sophia, and to her, as the only visible representative
of authority, the court naturally turned for orders. She took
it upon herself to pay off and pacify the stryeltsy, and secretly
wprked upon them to present (May 29) a petition to the
council of state to the effect that her half-brother Ivan should
be declared senior tsar, while Peter was degraded into the junior
tsar. As Ivan was hopelessly infirm and half idiotic, it is plain
that the absurd duumvirate was but a stepping-stone to the
ambition of Sophia, who thus became the actual ruler of Russia.
The stryeltsy were not only pardoned for their atrocities, but
petted. A general amnesty in the most absolute terms was granted
to them, and at their special request a triumphal column was
erected in the Red Square of the Kreml, to commemorate their
cowardly massacre of the partisans of Peter. When, however,
instigated by their leader Prince Ivan Khovansky, who is
suspected to have been aiming at the throne himself, and
supported by the reactionary elements of the population,
conspicuous among whom were the raskolniks or dissenters,
they proceeded on the 5th of July to the great reception-hall
of the palace in the Kreml to present a petition against all
novelties, Sophia boldly faced them. Supported by her aunts
and the patriarch, and secretly assured of the support of
the orthodox half of the stryeltsy, she forbade all discussion
and browbeat the rebels into submission. A later attempt on
the part of Khovansky to overthrow her was anticipated and
severely punished. By the 6th of November Sophia's triumph
was complete. The conduct of foreign affairs she committed
entirely to her paramour, Prince Vasily Golitsuin, while the
crafty and experienced clerk of the council, Theodore Shaklovity,
looked after domestic affairs and the treasury. Sophia's fond-
ness for Golitsuin induced her to magnify his barely successful
campaigns in the Crimea into brilliant triumphs which she
richly rewarded, thus disgusting everyone who had the honour
of the nation at heart. Most of the malcontents rested their
hopes for the future on the young tsar Peter, who was the first
to benefit by his sister's growing unpopularity. Sophia was
shrewd enough to recognize that her position was becoming very
insecure. When Peter reached man's estate she would only
be in the way, and she was not the sort of woman who is easily
thrust aside. She had crowned her little brothers in order that
she might reign in their names. She had added her name to
theirs in state documents, boldly subscribing herself " Sovereign
Princess of all Russia." She had officially informed the doge
of Venice that she was the co-regent of the tsars. And now the
terrible term of her usurped authority was approaching. In her
extremity she took council of Shaklovity, and it was agreed
(1687) between them that the stryellsy should be employed to
dethrone Peter. The stryeltsy, however, received the whole
project so coldly that it had to be abandoned. A second con-
spiracy to seize him in his bed (August 1689) was betrayed to
Peter, and he fled to the fortress-monastery of Troitsa. Here
all his friends rallied round him, including the bulk of the
magnates, half the stryeltsy, and all the foreign mercenaries.
From the 1 2th of August to the 7th of September Sophia endea-
voured to set up a rival camp in the Kreml; but all her professed
adherents gradually stole away from her. She was compelled
to retire within the Novo-Dyeyichy monastery, but without
SOPHIA DOROTHEA— SOPHISTS
taking the veil. tsiine years later (1698), on suspicion of being
concerned in the rebellion of the slryeltsy, she was shorn a nun
and imprisoned for life under military supervision. As " Sister
Susannah " she disappeared from history. Russian historians
are still divided in their opinion concerning this extraordinary
woman. While some of them paint her in the darkest colours
as an unprincipled adventuress, the representative of a new
Byzantinism, others simply regard her as the victim of circum-
stances. Others, more indulgent still, acquit her of all blame;
and a few, impressed by her indisputable energy and ability,
evade a decision altogether by simply describing her as a prodigy.
See J. E. Zabyelin, Domestic Conditions of the Russian Princes
(Rus. ; Moscow, 1 895) ; N. G. Ustryalov, History of the Reign of Peter
the Great (Rus.; Petersburg, 1858); N. Y. Aristov, The Moscow
Rebellions during the Regency of Sophia (Rus.; Warsaw, 1871);
R. N. Bain, The First Romanovs (London, 1905). (R. N. B.)
SOPHIA DOROTHEA (1666-1726), wife of George Louis,
elector of Hanover (George I. of England), only child of George
William, duke of Brunswick-Luneburg-Celle, by a Huguenot
lady named Eleanore d'Olbreuze (1639-1722), was born on the
iSth of September 1666. George William had undertaken
to remain unmarried, but his desire to improve the status of
his mistress (whom in spite of his promise he married in 1676)
and of his daughter greatly alarmed his relatives, as these
proceedings threatened to hinder the contemplated union of
the Liineburg territories. However, in 1682, this difficulty
was bridged over by the marriage of Sophia Dorothea with her
cousin George Louis, son of Duke Ernest Augustus, who became
elector of Hanover in 1692. This union was a very unhappy
one. The relatives of George Louis, especially his mother, the
electress Sophia, hated and despised his wife, and this feeling
was soon snared by the prince himself. It was under these
circumstances that Sophia Dorothea made the acquaintance
of Count Philipp Christoph von Konigsmark (q.v.), with whom
her name is inseparably associated. Konigsmark assisted her
in one or two futile attempts to escape from Hanover, and
rightly or wrongly was regarded as her lover. In 1694 the
count was assassinated, and the princess was divorced and
imprisoned at Ahlden, remaining in captivity until her death
on the 23rd of November 1726. Sophia Dorothea is sometimes
referred to as the " princess of Ahlden." Her two children were
the English king, George II., and Sophia Dorothea, wife of
Frederick William I. of Prussia, and mother of Frederick the
Great. Sophia's infidelity to her husband is not absolutely
proved, as it is probable that the letters which purport to have
passed between Konigsmark and herself are forgeries.
See Briefwechsel des Grafen Konigsmark und der Prinzessin Sophie
Dorothea von Celle, edited by W. F. Palmblad (Leipzig, 1847);
A. F. H. Schaumann, Sophie Dorothea Prinzessin von Ahlden, and
Kurfurstin Sophie von Hannover (Hanover, 1878) ; C. L. von Pollnitz,
Histoire secrette de la duchesse d'Hanovre (London, 1732); W. H.
Wilkins, The Love of an Uncrowned Queen (London, iqoo) ; A.
Kocher, " Die Prinzessin von Ahlden," in the Historische Zeitschrift
(Munich, 1882) ; Vicomte H. de Beaucaire, Une Mesalliance dans la
maison de Brunswick (Paris, 1884); and A. D. Greenwood, Lives of
the Hanoverian Queens of England (1909), vol. i.
SOPHISTS (from Gr. aofrartis, literally, man of wisdom),
the name given by the Greeks about the middle of the sth
century B.C. to certain teachers of a superior grade who, dis-
tinguishing themselves from philosophers on the one hand and
from artists and craftsmen on the other, claimed to prepare
their pupils, not for any particular study or profession, but
for civic life. For nearly a hundred years the sophists held
almost a monopoly of general or liberal education. Yet,
within the limits of the profession, there was considerable
diversity both of theory and of practice. Four principal
varieties are distinguishable, and may be described as the
sophistries of culture, of rhetoric, of politics, and of " eristic,"
i.e. disputation. Each of these predominated in its turn,
though not to the exclusion of others, the sophistry of culture
beginning about 447, and leading to the sophistry of eristic,
and the sophistry of rhetoric taking root in central Greece
about 427, and merging in the sophistry of politics. Further,
since Socrates and the Socratics were educators, they too might
be, and in general were, regarded as sophists; but, as they
conceived truth — so far as it was attainable — rather than
success in life, in the law court, in the assembly, or in debate,
to be the right end of intellectual effort, they were at variance
with their rivals, and are commonly ranked by historians, not
with the sophists, who confessedly despaired of knowledge, but
with the philosophers, who, however unavailingly, continued
to seek it. With the establishment of the great philosophical
schools — first, of the Academy, next of the Lyceum— the philo-
sophers took the place of the sophists as the educators of Greece.
The sophistical movement was then, primarily, an attempt
to provide a general or liberal education which should supple-
ment the customary instruction in reading, writing, gymnastic
and music. But, as the sophists of the first period chose for
their instruments grammar, style, literature and oratory, while
those of the second and third developments were professed
rhetoricians, sophistry exercised an important influence upon
literature. Then again, as the movement, taking its rise in the
philosophical agnosticism which grew out of the early physical
systems, was itself persistently sceptical, sophistry may be
regarded as an interlude in the history of philosophy. Finally,
the practice of rhetoric and eristic, which presently became
prominent in sophistical teaching, had, or at any rate seemed
to have, a mischievous effect upon conduct; and the charge
of seeking, whether in exposition or in debate, not truth but
victory — which charge was impressively urged against the
sophists by Plato — grew into an accusation of holding and
teaching immoral and unsocial doctrines, and in our own day
has been the subject of eager controversy.
i. Genesis and Development of Sophistry. — Sophistry arose
out of a crisis in philosophy. The earlier Ionian physicists,
Thales, Anaximander and Anaximenes, in their attempts to
trace the Multiplicity of things to a single material element,
had been troubled by no misgivings about the possibility of
knowledge. But, when Heraclitus to the assumption of fire
as the single material cause added the doctrine that all things
are in perpetual flux, he found himself obliged to admit that
things cannot be known. Thus, though, in so far as he asserted
his fundamental doctrine without doubt or qualification, he
was a dogmatist, in all else he was a sceptic. Again, the Eleatic
Parmenides, deriving from the theologian Xenophanes the
distinction between eTrioTi^iTj and Sofa, 'conceived that, whilst
the One exists and is the object of knowledge, the Multiplicity
of things becomes and is the object of opinion; but, when his
successor Zeno provided the system with a logic, the consistent
application of that logic resolved the fundamental doctrine into
the single proposition " One is One," or, more exactly, into
the single identity " One One." Thus Eleaticism, though
professedly dogmatic, was inconsistent in its theory of the One
and its attributes, and openly sceptical in regard to the world of
nature. Lastly, the philosophers of the second physical succession
— Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Leucippus — not directly attack-
ing the great mystery of the One and the Many, but in virtue
of a scientific instinct approaching it through the investigation
of phenomena, were brought by their study of sensation to
perceive and to proclaim the inadequacy of the organs of sense.
Thus they too, despite their air of dogmatism, were in effect
sceptics. In short, from different standpoints, the three
philosophical successions had devised systems which were in
reality sceptical, though they had none of them recognized the
sceptical inference.
Towards the middle of the sth century, however, Protagoras
of Abdera, taking account of the teaching of the first, and
possibly of the second, of the physical successions, and Gorgias
of Leontini, starting from the teaching of the metaphysical
succession of Elea, drew that sceptical inference from which
the philosophers had shrunk. If, argued Protagoras in a treatise
entitled Truth, all things are in flux, so that sensation is sub-
jective, it follows that " Man is the measure of all things, of
what is, that it is, and of what is not, that it is not "; in other
words, there is no such thing as objective truth. Similarly,
Gorgias, in a work On Nature, or on the Nonent, maintained
SOPHISTS
419
(a) that nothing is, (b) that, if anything is, it cannot be known,
(c) that, if anything is and can be known, it cannot be expressed
in speech; and the summaries which have been preserved by
Sextus Empiricus (Adv. Math. vii. 65-87) and by the author
of the De Melissa, &c. (chs. 5, 6), show that, in defending these
propositions, Gorgias availed himself of the arguments which
Zeno had used to discredit the popular belief in the existence
of the Many; in other words, that Gorgias turned the destructive
logic of Zeno against the constructive ontology of Parmenides,
thereby not only reducing Eleaticism to nothingness, but also,
until such time as a better logic than that of Zeno should
be provided, precluding all philosophical inquiry whatsoever.
Thus, whereas the representatives of the three successions had
continued to regard themselves as philosophers or seekers after
truth, Protagoras and Gorgias, plainly acknowledging their
defeat, withdrew from the ungrateful struggle.
Meagre as were the results which the earlier thinkers had
obtained, the extinction of philosophy just at the time when
the liberal arts became more technical and consequently less
available as employments of leisure, threatened to leave a blank
in Hellenic life. Accordingly Protagoras, while with the one
hand he put away philosophy, with the other offered a substitute.
Emphasizing the function of the teacher, which with the philo-
sophers had been subordinate, and proclaiming the right end of
intellectual endeavour to be, not " truth " (&Mideia) or
" wisdom " (ffola), which was unattainable, but " virtue "
or " excellence " (dpen?), he sought to communicate, not a theory
of the universe, but an aptitude for civic life. " The lesson
which I have to teach," Plato makes him say (Prot. 318 E),
" is prudence or good counsel, both in respect of domestic matters
that the man may manage his household aright, and in respect
of public affairs, that he may be thoroughly qualified to take
part, both by deed and by word, in the business of the state.
In other words, I profess to make men good citizens." As
instruments of education Protagoras used grammar, style,
poetry and oratory. Thus, whereas hitherto the young Greek,
having completed his elementary training in the schools of the
7pa^tm(rrijj, the KiBapiarris, and the iraidoTpifiiis, was left to
prepare himself for his life's work as best he might, by philo-
sophical speculation, by artistic practice, or otherwise, one who
passed from the elementary schools to the lecture-room of
Protagoras received from him a " higher education." The
programme was exclusively literary, but for the moment it
enabled Protagoras to satisfy the demand which he had
discovered and evoked. Wherever he went, his lecture-room
was crowded with admiring pupils, whose homage filled his purse
and enhanced his reputation.
After Protagoras the most prominent of the literary sophists
was Prodicus of Ceos. Establishing himself at Athens, he taught
" virtue " or " excellence," in the sense attached to the word
by Protagoras, partly by means of literary subjects, partly in
discourses upon practical ethics. It is plain that Prodicus was
an affected pedant; yet his simple conventional morality found
favour, and Plato (Rep. 600 C) couples him with Protagoras
in his testimony to the popularity of the sophists and their
teaching.
At Athens, the centre of the intellectual life of Greece, there
was soon to be found a host of sophists; some of them strangers,
others citizens; some of them bred under Protagoras and
Prodicus, others self-taught. In the teaching of the sophists of
this younger generation two points are observable. First, their
independence of philosophy and the arts being assured, though
they continued to regard " civic excellence " as their aim, it
was no longer necessary for them to make the assertion of its
claims a principal element in their exposition. Secondly, for
the sake of novelty they extended their range, including scientific
and technical subjects, but handling them, and teaching their
pupils to handle them, in a popular way. In this stage of
sophistry then, the sophist, though not a specialist, trenched
upon the provinces of specialists; and accordingly Plato (Prot.
318 E) makes Protagoras pointedly refer to sophists who, " when
young men have made their escape from the arts, plunge them
once more into technical study, and teach them such subjects
as arithmetic, astronomy, geometry and music." The sophist
of whom the Platonic Protagoras is here thinking was Hippias
of Elis, who gave popular lectures, not only upon the four subjects
just mentioned, but also upon grammar, mythology, family
history, archaeology, Homerology and the education of youth.
In this polymath we see at once the degradation of the sophistry
of culture and the link which connects Protagoras and Prodicus
with the eristics, who at a later period taught, not, like Hippias,
all branches of learning, but a universally applicable method
of disputation.
Meanwhile, Gorgias of Leontini, who, as has been seen, had
studied and rejected the philosophy of western Greece, gave
to sophistry a new direction by bringing to the mother country
the technical study of rhetoric— especially forensic rhetoric
(Plato, Gorg. 454 B; cf. Aristotle, Rhet. 1354, b 26) — which
study had begun in Sicily with Corax and Tisias nearly forty
years before. Gorgias was already advanced in years and rich
in honours when, in 427, he visited Athens as the head of an
embassy sent to solicit aid against Syracuse. Received with
acclamation, he spent the rest of his long life in central Greece,
winning applause by the display of his oratorical gifts and
acquiring wealth by the teaching of rhetoric. There is no evi-
dence to show that at any period of his life he called himself a
sophist; and, as Plato (Gorg. 449 A) makes him describe himself
as a Aijrcop, it is reasonable to suppose that he preferred that
title. That he should do so was only natural, since his position
as a teacher of rhetoric was already secure when Protagoras
made his first appearance in the character of a sophist; and,
as Protagoras, Prodicus and the rest of the sophists of culture
offered a comprehensive education, of which oratory formed
only a part, whilst Gorgias made no pretence of teaching " civic
excellence " (Plato, Meno, 95 C), and found a substitute for
philosophy, not in literature generally, but in the professional
study of rhetoric alone, it would have been convenient if the
distinction between sophistry and rhetoric had been maintained.
But though, as will be seen hereafter, these two sorts of educa-
tion were sometimes distinguished, Gorgias and those who
succeeded him as teachers of rhetoric, such as Thrasymachus
of Chalcedon and Polus of Agrigentum, were commonly called
by the title which Protagoras had assumed and brought into
familiar use.
Rhetorical sophistry, as taught by Gorgias with special
reference to the requirements of the law courts, led by an easy
transition to political sophistry. During the century which had
elapsed since the expulsion of the Peisistratids and the establish-
ment of the democracy, the Athenian constitution had developed
with a rapidity which produced an oligarchical reaction, and the
discussion of constitutional principles and precedents, always
familiar to the citizen of Athens, was thus abnormally stimulated.
The Peloponnesian War, too, not only added a deeper interest
to ordinary questions of policy, but also caused the relations
of dissentient parties, of allied and belligerent states, of citizens
and aliens, of bond and free, of Greeks and barbarians, to be
eagerly debated in the light of present experience. It was
only natural then that some of those who professed to prepare
young Athenians for public life should give to their teaching
a distinctively political direction; and accordingly we find
Isocrates recognizing teachers of politics, and discriminating
them at once from those earlier sophists who gave popular
instruction in the arts and from the contemporary eristics.
To this class, that of the political sophists, may be assigned
Lycophron, Alcidamas and Isocrates himself. For, though that
celebrated personage would have liked to be called, not " sophist "
but " political philosopher," and tried to fasten the name of
" sophist " upon his opponents the Socratics, it is clear from his
own statement that he was commonly ranked with the sophists,
and that he had no claim, except on the score of superior popu-
larity and success, to be dissociated from the other teachers
of political rhetoric. It is true that he was not a political
sophist of the vulgar type, that as a theorist he was honest
and patriotic, and that, in addition to his fame as a teacher, he
420
SOPHISTS
had a distinct reputation as a man of letters; but he was a
professor of political rhetoric, and, as such, in the phraseology
of the day, a sophist. He had already reached the height of
his fame when Plato opened a rival school at the Academy,
and pointedly attacked him in the Gorgias, the Phaedrus and
the Republic. Thenceforward, there was a perpetual controversy
between the rhetorician and the philosopher, and the struggle
of educational systems continued until, in the next generation,
the philosophers were left in possession of the field.
While the sophistry of rhetoric led to the sophistry of politics,
the sophistry of culture led to the sophistry of disputation. It
has been seen that the range of subjects recognized by Protagoras
and Prodicus gradually extended itself, until Hippias professed
himself a teacher of all branches of learning, including in his
list subjects taught by artists and professional men, but handling
them irom a popular or non-professional point of view. The
successors of the polymath claimed to possess and to communicate,
not the knowledge of all branches of learning, but an aptitude
for dealing with all subjects, which aptitude should make the
knowledge of any subject superfluous. In other words, they
cultivated skill in disputation. Now skill in disputation is
plainly a valuable accomplishment; and, as the Aristotelian
logic grew out of the regulated discussions of the eristics and
their pupils, the disputant sophistry of the 4th century deserves
more attention and more respect than it usually receives from
historians of Greek thought. But when men set themselves
to cultivate skill in disputation, regarding the matter discussed
not as a serious issue, but as a thesis upon which to practise
their powers of controversy, they learn to pursue, not truth,
but victory; and, their criterion of excellence having been thus
perverted, they presently prefer ingenious fallacy to solid
reasoning and the applause of bystanders to the consciousness
of honest effort. Indeed, the sophists generally had a special
predisposition to error of this sort, not only because sophistry
was from the beginning a substitute for the pursuit of truth,
but also because the successful professor, travelling from city
to city, or settling abroad, could take no part in public affairs,
and thus was not at every step reminded of the importance of
the " material " element of exposition and reasoning. Paradox,
however, soon becomes stale, and fallacy wearisome. Hence,
despite its original popularity, eristical sophistry could not hold
its ground. The man of the world who had cultivated it in his
youth regarded it in riper years as a foolish pedantry, or at best
as a propaedeutic exercise; while the serious student, necessarily
preferring that form of disputation which recognized truth as
the end of this, as of other intellectual processes, betook himself
to one or other of the philosophies of the revival.
In order to complete this sketch of the development of
sophistry in the latter half of the 5th century and the earlier half
of the 4th, it is necessary next to take account of Socrates and
the Socratics. A foe to philosophy and a renegade from art,
Socrates took his departure from the same point as Protagoras,
and moved in the same direction, that of the education of youth.
Finding in the cultivation of " virtue " or " excellence " a
substitute for the pursuit of scientific truth, and in disputation
the sole means by which " virtue " or " excellence " could
be attained, he resembled at once the sophists of culture and
the sophists of eristic. But, inasmuch as the " virtue " or
" excellence " which he sought was that of the man rather than
that of the official, while the disputation which he practised
had for its aim, not victory, but the elimination of error, the
differences which separated him from the sophists of culture
and the sophists of eristic were only less considerable than the
resemblances which he bore to both; and further, though his
•whole time and attention were bestowed upon the education
of young Athenians, his theory of the relations of teacher and
pupil differed from that of the recognized professors of education,
inasmuch as the taking of fees seemed to him to entail a base
surrender of the teacher's independence. The principal character-
istics of Socrates's theory of education were accepted, mutatis
mutandis, by the leading Socratics. With these resemblances
to the contemporary professors of education, and with these
differences, were Socrates and the Socratics sophists or not?
To this question there is no simple answer, yes or no. It is
certain that Socrates's contemporaries regarded him as a sophist ;
and it was only reasonable that they should so regard him, because
in opposition to the physicists of the past and the artists of the
present he asserted the claims of higher education. But, though
according to the phraseology of the time he was a sophist, he
was not a typical sophist — his principle that, while scientific
truth is unattainable by man, right opinion is the only basis of
right action, clearly differentiating him from all the other
professors of " virtue." Again, as the Socratics — Plato himself,
when he established himself at the Academy, being no excep-
tion— were, like their master, educators rather than philosophers,
and in their teaching laid especial stress upon discussion, they,
too, were doubtless regarded as sophists, not by Isocrates only,
but by their contemporaries in general; and it may be conjectured
that the disputatious tendencies of the Megarian school made
it all the more difficult for Plato and others to secure a proper
appreciation of the difference between dialectic, or discussion
with a view to the discovery of truth, and eristic, or discussion
with a view to victory. Changing circumstances, however,
carry with them changes in the meaning and application of
words. Whereas, so long as philosophy was in abeyance
Socrates and the Socratics were regarded as sophists of an
abnormal sort, as soon as philosophy revived it was dimly
perceived that, in so far as Socrates and the Socratics dissented
from sophistry, they preserved the philosophical tradition.
This being so, it was found convenient to revise the terminology
of the past, and to include in the philosophical succession those
who, though not philosophers, had cherished the sacred spark.
As for Socrates, he ranked himself neither with the philosophers,
who professed to know, nor with the sophists, who professed
to teach; and, if he sometimes described himself as a <^iX6tro0oj
he was careful to indicate that he pretended to no other
knowledge than that of his own limitations.
It would seem then, (i) that popular nomenclature included
under the term " sophist " all teachers — whether professors, or
like Socrates, amateurs — who communicated, not artistic skill,
nor philosophical theory, but a general or liberal education;
(2) that, of those who were commonly accounted sophists, some
professed culture, some forensic rhetoric, some political rhetoric,
some eristic, some (i.e. the Socratics) dialectic; (3) that the
differences between the different groups of sophists were not
inconsiderable, and that hi particular the teaching of the rhe-
toricians was distinct in origin, and, in so far as its aim was
success in a special walk of life, distinct in character, from the
more general teaching of the sophists of culture, the eristics,
and the dialecticians, while the teaching of the dialecticians
was discriminated from that of the rest, in so far as the aim of
the dialecticians was truth, or at least the bettering of opinion;
and, consequently, (4) that, in awarding praise and blame to
sophistry and its representatives, the distinctive characteristics
of the groups above enumerated must be studiously kept in
view.
Lapse of time and change of circumstances brought with
them not merely changes in the subjects taught, but also changes
in the popular estimate of sophistry and sophists. The first
and most obvious sentiment which sophistry evoked was an
enthusiastic and admiring interest. The sophist seemed to his
youthful hearers to open a new field of intellectual activity and
thereby to add a fresh zest to existence. But in proportion to the
fascination which he exercised upon the young was the distrust
which he inspired in their less pliable elders. Not only were
they dismayed by the novelty of the sophistical teaching, but
also they vaguely perceived that it was subversive of authority,
of the authority of the parent over the child as well as of the
authority of the state over the citizen. Of the two conflicting
sentiments, the favour of the young, gaining as years passed
away, naturally prevailed; sophistry ceased to be novel, and
attendance in the lecture-rooms of the sophists came to be
thought not less necessary for the youth than attendance in
the elementary schools for the boy. The lively enthusiasm
SOPHISTS
421
and the furious opposition which greeted Protagoras had now
burnt themselves out, and before long the sophist was treated
by the man of the world as a harmless, necessary pedagogue.
That sophistry must be studied in its historical development
was clearly seen by Plato, whose dialogue called the Sophist contains
a formal review of the changing phases and aspects of sophistical
teaching. The subject which is discussed in that dialogue and its
successor, the Statesman, being the question " Are sophist, statesman,
and philosopher identical or different?" the Eleate who acts as
protagonist seeks a definition of the term " sophist " by means of a
series of divisions or dichotomies. In this way he is led to regard the
sophist successively — (i) as a practitioner of that branch of mer-
cenary persuasion in private which professes to impart " virtue "
and exacts payment in the shape of a fee, in opposition to the flatterer
who offers pleasure, asking for sustenance in return; (2) as a practi-
tioner of that branch of mental trading which purveys from city to
city discourses and lessons about " virtue," m opposition to the
artist who similarly purveys discourses and lessons about the arts ;
(3) and (4) as a practitioner of those branches of mental trading,
retail and wholesale, which purvey discourses and lessons about
" virtue " within a city, in opposition to the artists who similarly
purvey discourses and lessons about the arts; (5) as a practitioner
of that branch of eristic which brings to the professor pecuniary
emolument, eristic being the systematic form of antilogic, and
dealing with justice, injustice and other abstractions, and antilogic
being that form of disputation which uses question and answer
in private, in opposition to forensic, which uses continuous discourse
in the law-courts; (6) as a practitioner of that branch of education
which purges away the vain conceit of wisdom by means of cross-
examination, in opposition to the traditional method of reproof
or admonition. These definitions being thus yarious, the Eleate
notes that the sophist, in consideration of a fee, disputes, and teaches
others to dispute, about things divine, cosmical, metaphysical, legal,
political, technical — in fact, about everything — not having know-
ledge of them, because universal knowledge is unattainable; after
which he is in a position to define the sophist (7) as a conscious
impostor who, in private, by discontinuous discourse, compels his
interlocutor to contradict himself, in opposition to the Sij/ioXo-yucis,
who, in public, by continuous discourse, imposes upon crowds.
It is clear that the final definition is preferred, not because of
any intrinsic superiority, but because it has a direct bearing upon
the question " Are sophist, statesman and philosopher identical
or different?" and that the various definitions represent different
stages or forms of sophistry as conceived from different points
of view. Thus the first and second definitions represent the
founders of the sophistry o,f culture, Protagoras and Prodicus, from
the respective points of view of the older Athenians, who disliked
the new culture, and the younger Athenians, who admired it; the
third and fourth definitions represent imitators to whom the note
of itinerancy was not applicable; the fifth definition represents the
earlier eristics, contemporaries of Socrates, whom it was necessary
to distinguish from the teachers of forensic oratory; the sixth is
framed to meet the anomalous case of Socrates, in whom many
saw the typical sophist, though Plato conceives this view to be
unfortunate; and the seventh and final definition, having in view
eristical sophistry fully developed, distinguishes it from Srifto\oyu may be discriminated, they are neverthe-
less near akin, the one being the ape of philosophy, the other the
ape of statesmanship. In short, Plato traces the changes which,
in less than a century, had taken place in the meaning of the term,
partly through changes in the practice of the sophists, partly through
changes in their surroundings and in public opinion, so as to show
by a familiar instance that general terms which do not describe
natural kinds cannot have a stable connotation.
_ Now it is easy to see that in this careful statement Plato recog-
nizes three periods. The first four definitions represent the period
of Protagoras, Prodicus, and their immediate successors, when the
object sought was " virtue," " excellence," " culture," and the
means to it was literature. The fifth and sixth definitions represent
the close of the 5th century, when sophistry handled eristically, and
perhaps, Chough Plato demurs to the inclusion, dialectically, ques-
tions of justice, injustice and the like, SIKCUUK^ or forensic rhetoric
being its proximate rival. The seventh definition represents the
first half of the 4th century, when sophistry was eristical in a wider
field, having for its rival, not forensic rhetoric, but the rhetoric of
the assembly. Plato's classification of educational theories is then
substantially the classification adopted in this article, though,
whereas here, in accordance with well-attested popular usage, all
the educational theories mentioned are included under the head
of sophistry, Plato allows to rhetoric, forensic and political, an inde-
pendent position, and hints that there are grounds for denying the
title of sophist to the dialectician Socrates. Incidentally we gather
two important facts — (i) that contemporary with the dialectic of
Socrates there was an eristic, and (2) that this eristic was mainly
applied to ethical questions. Finally, we may be sure that, if Plato
was thus careful to distinguish the phases and aspects of sophistical
development, he could never have fallen into the modern error of
bestowing upon those whom the Greeks called sophists either
indiscriminate censure or indiscriminate laudation.
2. Relations of Sophistry to Education, Literature and
Philosophy. — If then the sophists, from Protagoras to Isocrates,
were before everything educators, it becomes necessary to inquire
whether their labours marked or promoted an advance in educa-
tional theory and method. At the beginning of the sth century
B.C. every young Greek of the better sort already received rudi-
mentary instruction, not only in music and gymnastics, but also
in reading and writing. Further, in the colonies, and especially
the colonies of the West, philosophy and art had done something
for higher education. Thus in Italy the Pythagorean school
was, in the fullest sense of the term, an educational institution ;
and in Sicily the rhetorical teaching of Corax and Tisias was
presumably educational in the same sense as the teaching of
Gorgias. But in central Greece, where, at any rate down
to the Persian Wars, politics, domestic and foreign, were all-
engrossing, and left the citizen little leisure for self-cultivation,
the need of a higher education had hardly made itself felt.
The overthrow of the Persian invaders changed all this. Hence-
forward the best of Greek art, philosophy, and literature
gravitated to Athens, and with their concentration and conse-
quent development came a general and growing demand for
teaching. As has been seen, it was just at this period that
philosophy and art ceased to be available for educational pur-
poses, and accordingly the literary sophists were popular precisely
because they offered advanced teaching which was neither
philosophical nor artistic. Their recognition of the demand
and their attempt to satisfy it are no small claims to distinction.
That, whereas before the time of Protagoras there was little
higher education in the colonies and less in central Greece,
after his time attendance in the lecture-rooms of the sophists
was the customary sequel to attendance in the elementary
schools, is a fact which speaks for itself.
But this is not all. The education provided by the sophists
of culture had positive merits. When Protagoras included in
his course grammar, style, interpretation of the poets, and
oratory, supplementing his own continuous expositions by
disputations in which he and his pupils took part, he showed
a not inadequate appreciation of the requisites of a literary
education; and it may be conjectured that his comprehensive
programme, which Prodicus and others extended, had something
to do with the development of that versatility which was the
most notable element in the Athenian character.
There is less to be said for the teachers of rhetoric, politics
and eristic, who, in limiting themselves each to a single subject —
the rhetoricians proper or forensic rhetoricians to one branch
of oratory, the politicians or political rhetoricians to another,
and the eristics to • disputation — ceased to be educators and
became instructors. Nevertheless, rhetoric and disputation,
though at the present day strangely neglected in English schools
and universities, are, within their limits, valuable instruments;
and, as specialization in teaching does not necessarily imply
specialization in learning, many of those who attended the
lectures and the classes of a rhetorician or an eristic sought and
found other instruction elsewhere. It would seem then that even
in its decline sophistry had its educational use. But in any
case it may be claimed for its professors kthat in the course of
a century they discovered and turned to account most of the
instruments of literary education.
With these considerable merits, normal sophistry had one
defect, its indifference to truth. Despairing of philosophy —
that is to say, of physical science — the sophists were prepared
to go all lengths in scepticism. Accordingly the epideictic
sophists in exposition, and the argumentative sophists in debate,
one and all, studied, not matter but style, not accuracy buteffect,
not proof but persuasion. In short, in their hostility to science
they refused to handle literature in a scientific spirit. That
this defect was serious was dimly apprehended even by those
who frequented and admired the lectures of the earlier sophists;
that it was fatal was clearly seen by Socrates, who, himself
commonly regarded as a sophist, emphatically reprehended,
422
SOPHISTS
not only the taking of fees, which was after all a mere incident,
objectionable because it seemed to preclude independence of
thought, but also the fundamental disregard of truth which
infected every part and every phase of sophistical teaching.
To these contemporary censures the modern critic cannot
refuse his assent.
To literature and to oratory the sophists rendered good service.
Themselves of necessity stylists, because their professional
success largely depended upon skilful and effective exposition,
the sophists both of culture and of rhetoric were professedly
teachers of the rules of grammar and the principles of written
and spoken discourse. Thus, by example as well as by precept,
they not only taught their hearers to value literary and oratorical
excellence, but also took the lead in fashioning the style of their
time. Their influence in these respects was weighty and impor-
tant. Whereas, when sophistry began, prose composition was
hardly practised in central Greece, the sophists were still the
leaders in literature and oratory when Plato wrote the Republic,
and they had hardly lost their position when Demosthenes
delivered the Philippics. In fact, it is not too much to say that
it was the sophists who provided those great masters with their
consummate instrument, and it detracts but little from the
merit of the makers if they were themselves unable to draw
from it its finer tones.
The relation of sophistry to philosophy was throughout one
of pronounced hostility. From the days of Protagoras, when
this hostility was triumphant and contemptuous, to the days
of Isocrates, when it was jealous and bitter, the sophists were
declared and consistent sceptics. But, although Protagoras
and Gorgias had examined the teaching of their predecessors
so far as to satisfy themselves of its futility and to draw the
sceptical inference, their study of the great problem of the day
was preliminary to their sophistry rather than a part of it;
and, as the overthrow of philosophy was complete and the attrac-
tions of sophistry were all-powerful, the question " What is
knowledge? " ceased for a time to claim or to receive attention.
There is, then, no such thing as a " sophistical theory of know-
ledge." Similarly, the recognition of a " sophistical ethic "
is, to say the least, misleading. It may have been that the
sophists' preference of seeming to reality, of success to truth,
had a mischievous effect upon the morality of the time; but it
is clear that they had no common theory of ethics, and there
is no warrant for the assumption that a sophist, as such, specially
interested himself in ethical questions. When Protagoras
asserted " civic excellence " or " virtue " to be the end of educa-
tion, he neither expressed nor implied a theory of morality.
Prodicus in his platitudes reflected the customary morality of
the time. Gorgias said plainly that he did not teach " virtue."
If Hippias, Polus and Thrasymachus defied conventional morality,
they did so independently of one another, and in this, as in other
matters, they were disputants maintaining paradoxical theses,
rather than thinkers announcing heretical convictions. The
morality of Isocrates bore a certain resemblance to that of
Socrates. In short, the attitude of the sophists towards inquiry
in general precluded them, collectively and individually, from
attachment to any particular theory. Yet among the so-called
sophists there were two who had philosophical leanings, as
appears in their willingness to be called by the title of philosopher.
First, Socrates, whilst he conceived that the physicists had
mistaken the field of inquiry, absolute truth being unattainable,
maintained, as has been seen, that one opinion was better than
another, and that consistency of opinion, resulting in consistency
of action, was the end which the human intellect properly pro-
poses to itself. Hence, though an agnostic, he was not unwilling
to be called a philosopher, in so far as he pursued such truth as
was attainable by man. Secondly, when sophistry had begun
to fall into contempt, the political rhetorician Isocrates claimed
for himself the time-honoured designation of philosopher,
" herein," says Plato, " resembling some tinker, bald-pated
and short of stature, who, having made money, knocks off
his chains, goes to the bath, buys a new suit, and then takes
advantage of the poverty and desolation of his master's daughter
to urge upon her his odious addresses " (Rep. vi. 495 E). It
will be seen, however, that neither Socrates nor Isocrates was
philosopher in any strict sense of the word, the speculative
aims of physicists and metaphysicians being foreign to the
practical theories both of the one and of the other.
As for the classification of sophistical methods, so for their
criticism, the testimony of Plato is all-important. It may be
conjectured that, when he emerged from the purely Socratic phase
of his earlier years, Plato gave himself to the study of contemporary
methods of education and to the elaboration of an educational
system of his own, and that it was in this way that he came to
the metaphysical speculations of his maturity. It may be imagined
further that, when he established himself at the Academy, his first
care was to draw up a scheme of education, including arithmetic,
geometry (plane and solid), astronomy, harmonics and dialectic,
and that it was not until he had arranged for the carrying out of
this programme that he devoted himself to the special functions
of professor of philosophy. However this may be, we find amongst
his writings — intermediate, as it would seem, between the Socratic
conversations of his first period of literary activity and the meta-
physical disquisitions of a later time — a series of dialogues which,
however varied their ostensible subjects, agree in having a direct
bearing upon education. Thus the Protagoras brings the educa-
tional theory of Protagoras and the sophists of culture face to face
with the educational theory of Socrates, so as to expose the limita-
tions of both ; the Gorgias deals with the moral aspect of the teach-
ings of the forensic rhetorician Gorgias and the political rhetorician
Isocrates, and the intellectual aspect of their respective theories of
education is handled in the Phaedrus; the Meno on the one hand
exhibits the strength and the weakness of the teaching of Socrates,
and on the other brings into view the makeshift method of those
who, despising systematic teaching, regarded the practical poli-
tician as the true educator; the Euthydemus has for its subject
the eristical method ; finally, having in these dialogues characterized
the current theories of education, Plato proceeds in the Republic
to develop an original scheme. Plato's criticisms of the sophists
are then, in the opinion of the present writer, no mere obiter dicta,
introduced for purposes of literary adornment or dramatic effect,
but rather the expressions of profound and reasoned conviction,
and, as such, entitled at any rate to respect. For the details
of Plato's critique the reader should go not to the summaries of
commentators, but to the dialogues themselves. In this place
it is sufficient to say that, while Plato accounts no education satis-
factory which has not knowledge for its basis, he emphatically
prefers the scepticism of Socrates, which, despairing of knowledge,
seeks right opinion, to the scepticism of the sophists, which,
despairing of knowledge, abandons the attempt to better existing
beliefs.
3. The Theory of Grote. — The post-Platonic historians and
critics, who, while they knew the earlier sophistry only through
tradition, were eyewitnesses of the sophistry of the decadence,
were more alive to the faults than to the virtues of the movement.
Overlooking the differences which separated the humanists
from the eristics, and both of these from the rhetoricians, and
taking no account of Socrates, whom they regarded as a philo-
sopher, they forgot the services which Protagoras and Prodicus,
Gorgias and Isocrates had rendered to education and to litera-
ture, and included the whole profession in an indiscriminate
and contemptuous censure. This prejudice, establishing itself
in familiar speech, has descended from antiquity to modern
times, colouring, when it does not distort, the narratives of
biographers and the criticisms of commentators. " The sophists,"
says Grote, " are spoken of as a new class of men, or sometimes
in language which implies a new doctrinal sect or school, as
if they then sprang up in Greece for the first time — ostentatious
impostors, flattering and duping the rich youth for their own
personal gain, undermining the morality of Athens, public and
private, and encouraging their pupils to the unscrupulous
prosecution of ambition and cupidity. They are even affirmed to
have succeeded in corrupting the general morality, so that Athens
had become miserably degenerated and vicious in the latter
years of the Peloponnesian War, as compared with what she
was in the time of Miltiades and Aristeides;" and, although
amongst the pre-Grotian scholars there were some who saw
as clearly as Grote himself that "the sophists are a much-
calumniated race " (G. H. Lewes), it is certain that historians of
philosophy, and editors of Plato, especially the " acumen
plumbeum Stallbaumii," had given ample occasion for the
energetic protest contained in the famous sixty-seventh chapter
of Grote's History of Greece. Amongst the many merits of that
SOPHISTS
423
admirable scholar, it is one of the greatest that he has laid " the
fiend called die Sophistik," that is to say, the theory that
sophistry was an organized conspiracy against law and morals.
Nevertheless, in this matter he is always an advocate; and it
may be thought that, while he successfully disposes of the
current slander, his description of his clients needs correction
in some important particulars. Hence the following paragraphs,
while they will resume and affirm his principal results, will
qualify and impugn some of his positions.
In so far as he is critical, Grote leaves little to be desired.
That the persons styled sophists " were not a sect or school,
with common doctrines or method," is clear. Common doctrine,
that is to say, common doctrine of a positive sort, they could
not have, because, being sceptics, they had nothing which could
be called positive doctrine; while there was a period when even
their scepticism was in no wise distinctive, because they shared
it with all or nearly all their contemporaries. Neither were
they united by a common educational method, the end and the
instruments of education being diversely conceived by Pro-
tagoras, Gorgias and Isocrates, to say nothing of the wider
differences which separate these three from the eristics, and all
the four normal types from the abnormal type represented by
Socrates.
Again, it is certain that the theoretical and practical morality
of the sophists, regarded as a class, was " neither above nor
below the standard of the age." The taking of fees, the pride
of professional success, and the teaching of rhetoric are no proofs
either of conscious charlatanism or of ingrained depravity.
Indeed, we have evidence of sound, if conventional, principle
in Prodicus's apologue of the " Choice of Heracles," and of
honourable, though eccentric, practice in the story of Pro-
tagoras's treatment of defaulting pupils. But, above all, it is
antecedently certain that defection from the ordinary standard
of morality would have precluded the success which the sophists
unquestionably sought and won. In fact, public opinion made
the morality of the sophists, rather than the sophists the morality
of public opinion. Hence, even if we demur to the judgment
of Grote that " Athens at the close of the Peloponnesian War
was not more corrupt than Athens in the days of Miltiades
and Aristeides," we shall not " consider the sophists as the
corrupters of Athenian morality," but rather with Plato lay
the blame upon society itself, which, " in popular meetings,
law courts, theatres, armies and other great gatherings, with
uproarious censure and clamorous applause" (Rep. vi. 492),
educates young and old, and fashions them according to its
pleasure.
Nor can we regard " Plato and his followers as the authorized
teachers of the Greek nation and the sophists as the dissenters."
On the contrary, the sophists were in quiet possession of the
field when Plato, returning to Athens, opened the rival school
of the Academy; and, while their teaching in all respects accom-
modated itself to current opinion, his, in many matters, ran
directly counter to it.
But if thus far Crete's protest against prevalent assumptions
carries an immediate and unhesitating conviction, it may be
doubted whether his positive statement can be accounted
final. " The appearance of the sophists," he says, " was no
new fact. . . . The paid teachers— whom modern writers set
down as the sophists, and denounce as the modern pestilence
of their age — were not distinguished in any marked or generic
way from their predecessors." Now it is true that before 447
B.C., besides the teachers of writing, gymnastics and music, to
whom the young Greek resorted for elementary instruction,
there were artists and artisans who not only practised their
crafts, but also communicated them to apprentices and pupils,
and that accordingly the Platonic Protagoras recognizes in the
gymnast Iccus, the physician Herodicus, and the musicians
Agathocles and Pythoclides, forerunners of the sophists. But
the forerunners of the sophists are not to be confounded with
the sophists themselves, and the difference between them is
not far to seek. Though some of those who resorted to the
gymnasts, physicians and musicians derived from them such
substitute for " higher education " as was before 447 generally
obtainable, it was only incidentally that professional men
and artists communicated anything which could be called
by that name. Contrariwise, the sophists were always and
essentially professors of the higher education; and, although
in process of time specialization assimilated sophistry to the
arts, at the outset at any rate, its declared aim — the cultivation
of the civic character — sufficiently distinguished sophistical
education both from professional instruction and from artistic
training. It is true too that in some of the colonies philosophy
had busied itself with higher education; but here again the
forerunners of the sophists are easily distinguished from the
sophists, since the sophists condemned not only the scientific
speculations of their predecessors, but also their philosophical
aims, and offered to the Greek world a new employment for
leisure, a new intellectual ambition.
Nor is it altogether correct to say that " the persons styled
sophists had no principles common to them all and distinguishing
them from others." Various as were the phases through which
sophistry passed between the middle of the 5th century and the
middle of the 4th, the sophists — Socrates himself being no
exception — had in their declared antagonism to philosophy a
common characteristic; and, if in the interval, philosophical
speculation being temporarily suspended, scepticism ceased
for the time to be peculiar, at the outset, when Protagoras and
Gorgias broke with the physicists, and in the sequel, when
Plato raised the cry of " back to Parmenides," this common
characteristic was distinctive.
Further, it may be doubted whether Grote is sufficiently care-
ful to distinguish between the charges brought against the
sophists personally and the criticism of their educational methods.
When the sophists are represented as conscious imposters who
" poisoned and demoralized by corrupt teaching the Athenian
moral character," he has, as has been seen, an easy and complete
reply. But the question still remains — Was the education
provided by Protagoras, by Gorgias, by Isocrates, by the eristics
and by Socrates, good, bad or indifferent? And, though the
modern critic will not be prepared with Plato to deny the name
of education to all teaching which is not based upon an ontology,
it may nevertheless be thought that normal sophistry — as
opposed to the sophistry of Socrates — was in various degrees
unsatisfactory, in so far as it tacitly or confessedly ignored the
" material " element of exposition by reasoning.
And if Grote overlooks important agreements he seems also
to understate important differences. Regarding Protagoras,
Gorgias and Isocrates as types of one and the same sophistry
(PP- 487, 493, 49S, 499, 544, 2nd ed.), and neglecting as
slander or exaggeration all the evidence in regard to the sophistry
of eristic (p. 540), he conceives that the sophists undertook " to
educate young men so as to make them better qualified for
statesmen or ministers," and that " that which stood most
prominent in the teaching of Gorgias and the other sophists was,
that they cultivated and improved the powers of public speaking
in their pupils." Excellent as a statement of the aim and method
of Isocrates, and tolerable as a statement of those of Gorgias,
these phrases are inexact if applied to Protagoras, who, making
" civic virtue " his aim, regarded statesmanship and administra-
tion as parts of " civic virtue ", and consequently assigned to
oratory no more than a subordinate place in his programme,
while to the eristics — whose existence is attested not only by
Plato, but also by Isocrates and Aristotle — and to Socrates —
whom Grote himself accounts a sophist — the description is
plainly and palpably inappropriate.
Grote's note about the eristical sophists is perhaps the least
satisfactory part of his exposition. That " there were in Athens
persons who abused the dialectical exercise for frivolous puzzles "
he admits; but "to treat Euthydemus and Dionysodorus as
samples of ' the Sophists ' is, " he continues, " altogether un-
warrantable." It would seem, then,' that, while he regards rhetoric
as the function of normal sophistry, taking indifferently as his
types Protagoras, Gorgias and Isocrates, he accounts Euthydemus
and Dionysodorus (together with Socrates) as sophists, but as
sophists of an abnormal sort, who may therefore be neglected. Now
this view is inconsistent with the evidence of Plato, who, in the
424
SOPHOCLES
Sophist, in his final and operative definition, gives prominence to
the eristical element, and plainly accounts it the main character-
istic not indeed of the sophistry of the 5th century, but of the
sophistry of the 4th. It must be presumed, then, that, in virtue
of his general suspicions of the Platonic testimony, Grote in this
matter leaves the Sophist out of account. There is, however,
another theory of the significance of Plato's allusions to eristical
sophistry, that of Professor H. Sidgwick, whose brilliant defence of
Grote is an indispensable supplement to the original document.
Giving a hearty general assent to Grote's theory, Sidgwick never-
theless introduces qualifications similar to some of those which are
suggested in this article. In particular he allows that " there was
at any rate enough of charlatanism in Protagoras and Hippias to
prevent any ardour for their historical reputation," that the
sophists generally _ " had in their lifetime more success than they
deserved, ' that it was " antagonism to their teaching which
developed the genius of Socrates," and, above all, that, " in his
anxiety to do justice to the Sophist, Grote laid more stress than
is at all necessary on the partisanship of Plato." Now this last
admission precludes Sidgwick from neglecting, as Grote had done,
the evidence of the Euthydemus. Pointing out that the sophists
of that dialogue "profess «£j iperijs firifif\tiav irporpe^at by means
of dialogue," that they challenge the interlocutor virix"' *&yov,"
that " their examples are drawn from common objects and
vulgar trades," that " they maintain positions that we know to
have been held by Megarians and Cynics," he infers that " what
we have here presented to us as ' sophistic ' is neither more nor
less than a caricature of the Megarian logi; "; and further, on the
ground that " the whole conception of Socrates and his effect on
his contemporaries, as all authorities combine to represent it,
requires us to assume that his manner of discourse was quite novel,
that no one before had systematically attempted to show men their
ignorance of what they believed themselves to know," he is " dis-
posed to think that the art of disputation which is ascribed to
sophists in the Euthydemus and the Sophistes (and exhaustively
analysed by Aristotle in the n«pi aottH.vrut.Siv i\kyx^") originated
entirely with Socrates, and that he is altogether responsible for the
form at least of this second species of sophistic." To this theory
the present writer is unable to subscribe. That Plato was not care-
ful to distinguish the Megarians and the Cynics from the eristical
sophists, and that the disputants of the 4th century affected some
of the mannerisms of the greatest disputant of the 5th century, he
willingly concedes. But he cannot allow either that the Megarians
and the_Cynics were the only eristics, or that eristical sophistry
began with Socrates. Plainly this is not the place for a full ex-
amination of the question; yet it may be remarked — (i) that the
previous history of the sophists of the Euthydemus, who had been
professors of tactics (Xenophon, Mem. iii. i, i), swordsmanship,
and forensic argumentation, implies that they came to eristic not
from the sophistry of Socrates, but from that of the later human-
ists, polymaths of the type of Hippias; (2) that the fifth and sixth
definitions of the Sophist, in which " that branch of eristic which
brings pecuniary gain to the practitioner " is opposed to the
" patience-trying, purgative elenchus " of Socrates, indicate that
contemporary with Socrates there were eristics whose aims were
not his; (3) that, whereas the sophist of the final definition " dis-
putes, and teaches others to dispute, about things divine, cosmical,
metaphysical, legal, political, technical, in fact, about all things,"
we have no ground for supposing that the Megarians and the Cynics
used their eristic for any purpose except the defence of their logical
heresies.
Nor is it possible to accept the statements that " the splendid
genius, the lasting influence, and the reiterated polemics of
Plato have stamped the name sophist upon the men against
whom he wrote as if it were their recognized, legitimate and
peculiar designation," and that " Plato not only stole the name
out of general circulation, in order to fasten it specially upon
his opponents the paid teachers, but also connected with it express
discreditable attributes which formed no part of its primitive
and recognized meaning and were altogether distinct from, though
grafted upon, the vague sentiment of dislike associated with
it." That is to say, Grote supposes that for at least eight and
forty years, from 447 to 399, the paid professors had no profes-
sional title; that, this period having elapsed, a youthful opponent
succeeded in fastening an uncomplimentary title not only
upon the contemporary teachers, but also, retrospectively, upon
their predecessors; and that, artfully enhancing the indigrity
of the title affixed, he thus obscured, perverted and effaced
the records and the memories of the past. Manifestly all three
propositions are antecedently improbable. But more than this:
whereas in the nomenclature of Plato's contemporaries Pro-
tagoras, Gorgias, Socrates, Dionysodorus and Isocrates were all
of them sophists, Plato himself, in his careful investigation
summarized above, limits the meaning of the term so that it
shall include the humanists and the eristics only. Now, if
his use of the term was stricter than the customary use, he
can hardly be held answerable for the latter.
Nor is Grote altogether just in his account of Plato's attitude
towards the several sophists, or altogether judicious in his
appreciation of Plato's testimony. However contemptuous in
his portraiture of Hippias and Dionysodorus, however severe
in his polemic against Isocrates, Plato regards Protagoras with
admiration and Gorgias with respect. While he emphasizes
in the later sophists the consequences of the fundamental error
of sophistry — its indifference to truth — he does honour to
the genius and the originality of the leaders of the movement.
Indeed, the author of this article finds in the writings of Plato
a grave and discriminating study of the several forms of sophistry,
and no trace whatsoever of that blind hostility which should
warrant us in neglecting his clear and precise evidence.
In a word, the present writer agrees with Grote that the
sophists were not a sect or school with common doctrine or
method; that their theoretical and practical morality was neither
above nor below that of their age, being, in fact, determined
by it; and that Plato and his followers are not to be regarded
as the authorized teachers of the Greek nation, nor the sophists
as the dissenters, but vice versa. At the same time, in opposi-
tion to Grote, he maintains that the appearance of the sophists
marked a new departure, in so far as they were the first professors
of " higher education " as such; that they agreed in the rejection
of "philosophy"; that the education which they severally
gave was open to criticism, inasmuch as, with the exception
of Socrates, they attached too much importance to the form,
too little to the matter, of their discourses and arguments; that
humanism, rhetoric, politic and disputation were characteristic
not of all sophists collectively, but of sections of the profession;
that Plato was not the first to give a special meaning to the
term " sophist " and to affix it upon the professors of education;
and, finally, that Plato's evidence is in all essentials trustworthy.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. — On the significance of the sophistical move-
ment, see E. Zeller, Philosophic d. Griechen, i. 932-1041 (4th ed.,
Leipzig, 1876); Presocratic Philosophy, ii. 394-516 (London, 1881);
G. Grote, History of Greece, ch. Ixvii. (London, 1851, &c.); E. M.
Cope, " On the Sophists," and " On the Sophistical Rhetoric," in
Journ. Class, and Sacr. Philol. vol. ii. (Cambridge, 1855), and vol.
iii. (1857), an erudite but inconclusive reply to Grote; H. Sidgwick,
" The Sophists," in Journ. of Philol., vol. iv. (Cambridge, 1872), and
vol. v. (1874), a brilliant defence of Grote; A. W. Benn, The Greek
Philosophers i. 53-107 (London, 1882). For lists of treatises upon
the life and teaching of particular sophists, see Ueberweg, Grundriss
d. Gesch. d. Philos., i. §§ 27-32 (History of Philosophy, London, 1880).
On the Hater use of the term " sophist," see RHETORIC. (H. JA.)
SOPHOCLES (495-406 B.C.), Greek tragic poet, was born
at Colonus in the neighbourhood of Athens. His father's name
was Sophillus; and the family burial-place is said to have been
about a mile and a half from the city on the Decelean Way.
The date assigned for the poet's birth is in accordance with the
tale that young Sophocles, then a pupil of the musician Lamprus,
was chosen to lead the chorus of boys in the celebration of the
victory of Salamis (480 B.C.). The time of his death is fixed
by the allusions to it in the Frogs of Aristophanes and in the
Muses, a lost play of Phrynichus, the comic poet, which were
both produced in 405 B.C., shortly before the capture of Athens.
And the legend which implies that Lysander allowed him funeral
honours is one of those which, like the story of Alexander and
Pindar's house at Thebes, we can at least wish to be founded
on fact, though we should probably substitute Agis for Lysander.
Apart from tragic victories, the event of Sophocles' life most
fully authenticated is his appointment at the age of fifty-five
as one of the generals who served with Pericles in the Samian
War (440-439 B.C.). Conjecture has been rife as to the possi-
bility of his here improving acquaintance with Herodotus, whom
he probably met some years earlier at Athens. But the distich
quoted by Plutarch —
'fliofiv 'Hpo56r<|) rtv&v l'o<£o*.-Xf;s iriuv &v
is a slight ground on which to reject the stronger tradition
according to which Herodotus was ere this established at Thurii;
SOPHOCLES
425
and the coincidences in their writings may be accounted for by
their having drawn from a common source. The fact of Sophocles'
generalship is the less surprising if taken in connexion with the
interesting remark of his biographer (whose Life, though absent
from the earliest MS. through some mischance, bears marks of
an Alexandrian origin) that he took his full share of civic duties,
and even served on foreign embassies. The large acquaintance-
ship which this implies, not only in Athens, but in Ionic cities
generally, is a point of main importance in considering the
opportunities of information at his command. And, if we credit
this assertion, we are the more at liberty to doubt the other state-
ment, though it is not incredible, that his appointment as general
was due to the political wisdom of his Antigone.
The testimony borne by Aristophanes in the Frogs to the
amiability of the poet's temper (6 5" eu/coXos H& ev0&8', e&KoXos 5'
end) agrees with the record of his biographer that he was univer-
sally beloved. And the anecdote recalled by Cephalus in Plato's
Republic, that Sophocles welcomed the release from the passions
which is brought by age, accords with the spirit of his famous
Ode to Love in the Antigone. The Sophocles who, according
to Aristotle (Rhet. iii. 18), said of the government of the Four
Hundred that it was the better of two bad alternatives (probably
the same who was one of the probuli), may or may not have been
the poet. Other gossiping stories are hardly worth repeating —
as that Pericles rebuked his love of pleasure and thought him
a bad general, though a good poet; that he humorously boasted
of his own " generalship " in affairs of love; or that he said of
Aeschylus that he was often right without knowing it, and that
Euripides represented men as they are, not as they ought to
be. (This last anecdote has the authority of Aristotle.) Such
trifles rather reflect contemporary or subsequent impressions
of a superficial kind than tell us anything about the man or
the dramatist. The gibe of Aristophanes (Pax 695 seq.), that
Sophocles in his old age was become a very Simonides in his love
for gain, may turn on some perversion of fact, without being
altogether fair to either poet. It is certainly irreconcilable with
the remark (Vit. anon.) that in spite of pressing invitations
he refused to leave Athens for kings' courts. And the story
of his indictment by his son lophon for incompetence to manage
his affairs — to which Cicero has given some weight by quoting
it in the De senectute — appears to be really traceable to Satyrus
(fl. c. 200 B.C.), the same author who gave publicity to the most
ridiculous of the various absurd accounts of the poet's death —
that his breath failed him for want of a pause in reading some
passage of the Antigone. Satyrus is atr least the sole authority
for the defence of the aged poet, who, after reciting passages
from the Oed. Col., is supposed to have said to his accusers, " If
I am Sophocles I am no dotard, and if I dote I am not Sophocles."
On the other hand, we need not the testimony of biographers
to assure us that he was devoted to Athens and renowned for
piety. He is said to have been priest of the hero Alcon, and
himself to have received divine honours after death.
That the duty of managing the actors as well as of training
the chorus belonged to the author is well known. But did
Aeschylus act in his own plays? This certainly is implied in
the tradition that Sophocles, because of the weakness of his
voice, was the first poet who desisted from doing so. In his
Thamyras, however, he is said to have performed on the lyre
to admiration, and in his Nausicaa (perhaps as coryphaeus)
to have played gracefully the game of ball. Various minor
improvements in decoration and stage carpentry are attributed
to him — whether truly or not who can tell ? It is more interest-
ing, if true, that he wrote his plays having certain actors in his
eye; that he formed an association for the promotion of liberal
culture; and that he was the first to introduce three actors
on the stage. It is asserted on the authority of Aristoxenus
that Sophocles was also the first to employ Phrygian melodies.
And it is easy to believe that Aj. 693 seq., Track. 205 seq., were
sung to Phrygian music, though there are strains in Aeschylus
(e.g. Choeph. 152 seq., 423 seq.) which it is hard to distinguish
essentially from these. Ancient critics had also noted his
familiarity with Homer, especially with the Odyssey, his power
of selection and of extracting an exquisite grace from all he
touched (whence he was named the " Attic Bee "), his mingled
felicity and boldness, and, above all, his subtle delineation of
human nature and feeling. They observed that the balanced
proportions and fine articulation of his work are such that in
a single half line or phrase he often conveys the impression of an
entire character. Nor is this verdict of antiquity likely to be
reversed by modern criticism.
His minor poems, elegies, paeans, &c., have all perished;
and of his hundred and odd dramas only seven remain. These
all belong to the period of his maturity (he had no decline) ; and
not only the titles but some scanty fragments of more than
ninety others have been preserved. Several of these were, of
course, satyric dramas. And this recalls a point of some im-
portance, which has been urged on the authority of Sui'das, who
says that " Sophocles began the practice of pitting play against
play, instead of the tetralogy." If it were meant that Sophocles
did not exhibit tetralogies, this statement would have simply
to be rejected. For the word of Suidas (A.D. 950) has no weight
against quotations from the lists of tragic victories (Si6a., 332-333)=—
*E7r' inavTln> oCre a' &\ywS>. rl TO.VT'
This is called synaphea, and is peculiar to Sophocles.
He differentiates more than Aeschylus does between the
metres to be employed in -the KOH^O'L (including the KOjUjuariKi)
and in the choral odes. The dochmius, cretic, and free anapaest
are employed chiefly in the jcojujuot. In the stasima he has
greatly developed the use of logaoedic and particularly of
glyconic rhythms, and far less frequently than his predecessor
indulges in long continuous runs of dactyls or trochees. The
light trochaic line-*-1-' — u-i-\j — , so frequent in Aeschylus, is
comparatively rare in Sophocles. If, from the very severity
with which the choral element is subordinated to the purely
dramatic, his lyrics have neither the magnificent sweep of
Aeschylus nor the " linked sweetness " of Euripides, they have
a concinnity and point, a directness of aim, and a truth of
dramatic keeping, more perfect than is to be found in either.
And even in grandeur it would be hard to find many passages
to bear comparison with the second stasimon, or central ode,
either of the Antigone (fi>8aiiMves olai KO.KUIV) or the first
Oedipus (el /ioi ^vvdi] fapovri). Nor does anything in
Euripides equal in grace and sweetness the famous eulogy on
Colonus (the poet's birthplace) in the Oedipus Coloneus. _
BIBLIOGRAPHY. — Sophocles was edited (probably from the
Venetian MSS.) by Aldus Manutius, with the help of Musurus, in
1502. The Juntine editions in which the text of Aldus was slightly
modified with the help of Florentine MSS. were published in 1522,
1547, respectively. An edition of the Scholia, very nearly corre-
sponding to those on the margin of the Medicean or chief Laurentian
MS. (La or L) has previously appeared at Rome in 1518. The first
great modification of the text was due to Turnebus, who had access
to the Parisian MSS.; but he was not fortunate in his selection.
The earliest editors had been aware that the traditional arrange-
ment of the metres was faulty, but little way had been made towards
a readjustment. Now it so happens that the Parisian MS. T, which
is a copy of the recension of Tnclinius, an early 14th-century scholar,
contains also the metrical views of the same editor; and, having
found (as he erroneously supposed) a sound authority, Turnebus
(1552) blindly adopted it, and was followed in this by H. Stephanus
(1568), and by Canter in Holland (1579), who was the first to
recognize the arrangement of the odes in strophe and antistrophe.
The error was to a large extent corrected by Brunck (1786), who
rightly preferred Par. A (2712), a 13th-century MS., belonging,
as it happened, to the same family with Ven. 467, which Aldus
had mainly followed. Thus after nearly three centuries the text
returned (though with conjectural variations) into the former
channel. Musgrave's edition was published posthumously in 1800,
and Gilbert Wakefield had published a selection shortly before.
Erfurdt in Germany then took up the succession, and his edition
formed the basis of Hermann's, whose psychological method set
the example of a new style of commentary which was adopted by
Wunder. A new era commenced with Peter Elmsley's collation
of the Laurentian MS. (made in 1818, but only published in full
after his death). His transcription of the Scholia still exists in
the Bodleian Library. The most important German commentaries
SOPHOMORE— SORA
429
since Hermann's have been those of Schneidewin, G. Wolff and
VVecklein. L. Campbell's edition of the plays and fragments
(1871-1881) was quickly followed by Jebb's edition of the seven
plays (1881-1896). Editions of one or more dramas most worth
consulting are Elmsley's Oedipus Tyrannus and Oedipus
Coloneus, Bockh's Antigone, Lobeck's Ajax, I. W. Donaldson's
Antigone, O. Jahn's Electro and J. William White's Oed. Tyr. A
monograph on the Antigone by Kaibel is also well worth mention-
ing. Translations: in verse, by Francklin, Potter, Dale, Plumptre,
L. Campbell, Whitelaw; in prose by R. C. Jebb. The chief German
translations are those of Solger (1824), Donner (1839), Hartung (1853)
and Thudichum. The French prose translation by Leconte de Lisle,
and the Italian in verse by Bellotti deserve special mention. The
Antigone was produced at Berlin with Mendelssohn's music in 1841
and the Oedipus Colonews in 1845. They have been reproduced in
English several times — the Antigone notably with Helen Faucit (Lady
Martin) in the title-role in 1845. The Oedipe Roi (trans. La Croix)
and the Antigone (trans. Vacquerie) have been frequently performed
in Paris. A performance of the Oedipus Tyrannus in Greek at
Harvard University, U.S.A. (1880), was remarkably successful.
Of dissertations immediately devoted to Sophocles those of Lessing,
Patin, Dronke and Evelyn Abbott (in Hellenica) are especially
noteworthy. (L. C.)
SOPHOMORE, the name in American universities (corre-
sponding to " sophister " at Cambridge, England, and Trinity
College, Dublin) for a student who has completed his first year
of academic studies. It is a corruption of the earlier " sophi-
more," due to a supposed derivation from aocjtos, wise, and
fttipos, foolish, alluding to the air of wisdom assumed by
students after their freshman's year was concluded. The earlier
word " sophimore " (cf. " Laws of Yale Coll., 1774," in Hall's
College Words) represents " sophismer," a doublet of " sophister,"
and means an arguer or debater (cf. the Cambridge use of
" wrangler "), and is formed from the Greek by means of a colony 4000 strong, to confirm its annexa-
tion. In 209 it was one of the colonies which refused further
contributions to the war against Hannibal. By the lex Julia
it became a municipium, but under Augustus it was colonized
by soldiers of the legio IV. Sorana, which had been mainly
enrolled there. It belonged technically to Latium Adjectum.
The castle of Sorella, built on the rocky height above the town,
430
SORACTE— SORBONNE
was in the middle ages a stronghold of some note. Charles I.
of Anjou made Sora a duchy for the Cantelmi; it was afterwards
seized by Pius II., but, being restored to the Cantelmi by
Sixtus IV., it ultimately passed to the Delia Rovere of Urbino.
Against Caesar Borgia the city was heroically defended by
Giovanni di Montefeltro. It was purchased by Gregory XIII.
for 11,000 ducats and bestowed on the Buoncompagni, the
ancestors of the line of Buoncompagni-Ludovisi. In ancient
times Sora was the birthplace of the Decii, Attilius Regulus,
and Lucius Mummius; and among its later celebrities is Cardinal
Baronius. (T. As.)
SORACTE, a mountain in the province of Rome, Italy.
It is a narrow, isolated limestone ridge, some 5 m. S.E. of Civita
Castellana, and 35 m. in length. The highest summit is 2267 ft.
above sea-level; just below it is a monastery removed there
from the summit in 1835; it was originally founded about 748
by Carloman, son of Charles Martel (the altar has, indeed,
fragments of sculptures of this period), and until modern times
was occupied by Trinitarian monks. On the actual summit is
a church. Owing to the isolated position of the mountain
the view is magnificent, and Soracte is a conspicuous object
in the landscape, being visible from Rome itself. It is thus
mentioned by Horace ("vides ut alta stet nive candidum
Soracte?" Carm. i. 9), and Virgil, who mentions Apollo as its
guardian deity, though no traces of his temple exist ; and in reality
it was sacred to Dis Pater and the gods of the lower world. At
the bottom of the mountain on the east is a disused limestone
quarry. The village of S. Oreste at the south-east end of the
ridge owes its name to a corruption of the ancient name. In
the communal palace is a fine processional cross of the nth
century in the Byzantine style (see Romische Quartalschrift,
1905, 209— Archaologie) .
SORANUS, Greek physician, born at Ephesus, lived during
the reigns of Trajan and Hadrian (A.D. 98-138). According
to Suidas, he practised in Alexandria and subsequently in Rome.
He was the chief representative of the school of physicians
known as " methodists." Two treatises by him are extant :
On Fractures (in J. L. Ideler, Physici et medici minores, L 1841)
and On Diseases of Women (first published in 1838, later by V.
Rose, in 1882, with a 6th-century Latin translation by Moschio, a
physician of the same school). Of his most important work (On
Acute and Chronic Diseases) only a few fragments in Greek
remain, but we possess a complete Latin translation by Caelius
Aurelianus (sth century). The Life of Hippocrates (in Ideler)
probably formed one of the collection of medical biographies
by Soranus referred to by Suidas, and is valuable as the only
authority for the life of the great physician, with the exception
of articles in Suidas and Stephanus of Byzantium (s.v. Kcis).
The Introduction to the Science of Medicine (V. Rose, Anecdota
graeca, ii. 1870) is considered spurious.
See article by J. Hahn, in Dechambre's Dictionnaire encyclo-
pediqite des sciences medicales, 3rd series, torn. 10; W. Christ,
Geschichte der griechischen LUteratur (1898); J. Ilberg. Die Vber-
lieferung der Gynaekologie des Soranos von Ephesos (Leipzig, 1910).
SORANUS, BAREA, Roman senator, lived in the reign of
Nero. His gentile name was possibly Servilius. In 52 he was
consul suffectus, and (perhaps in 61) proconsul of Asia. The
upright and considerate manner in which he treated the pro-
vincials won him their affection, but at the same time brought
upon him the hatred of Nero, who felt specially aggrieved
because Soranus had refused to punish a city which had defended
the statues of its gods against the Imperial commissioners.
Soranus was accused of intimacy with Rubellius Plautus
(another object of Nero's hatred), and of endeavouring to obtain
the goodwill of the provincials by treasonable intrigues. One
of the chief witnesses against him was Egnatius Celer of Berytus,
his client and former tutor. Soranus was condemned to death
(in 65 or 66), and committed suicide. His daughter Servilia,
who was charged with having consulted the sorcerers, professedly
in regard to her father's fate, but in reality with evil designs
against the emperor, was involved in his downfall. The
accuser, who was condemned to death in the reign of Vespasian
for his conduct on this occasion, is a standing example of
ingratitude and treachery.
Tacitus, Annals, xvi. 30, 32; Hist. iv. 10; Juvenal iii. 116; Dio
Cassius Ixii. 26.
SORAU, a town of Germany, in the Prussian province of
Brandenburg, on the Sorebach, 54 m. S.E. of Frankfort-on-
Oder by rail, and at the junction of lines to Cottbus and Gorlitz.
Pop. (1905), 16,410. Ofte of the oldest towns in Lower Lusatia,
Sorau contains a number of ancient buildings, among which the
most prominent are several of the churches (one dating from
1204), the town hall, built in 1260, and the old palace of 1207
(now a prison). The new palace, erected in 1711 by Count
Erdmann II. of Promnitz, is utilized for government offices.
The varied manufactures of the town comprise cloth, linen,
wax candles, starch, glass and porcelain.
Sorau is said to have existed in 840, and to have belonged to
the abbey of Fulda till the i2th century. It received civic
rights in 1260. With the surrounding district, known as the
barony of Sorau, it became the seat of successive noble families;
and in 1400 it was united with the barony of Triebel. The
last Count of Promnitz, whose ancestor had purchased both
baronies from Frederick of Bohemia in 1556, sold them in 1765
to the elector of Saxony for an annuity of 12,000 thalers (£1800).
In 1815 Saxony ceded them to Prussia.
See Worbs, Geschichte der Herrschaft Sorau und Triebel (Sorau ,1826).
SORBONNE, the name given originally to the college founded
by Robert de Sorbon in Paris; hence applied afterwards popu-
larly to the theological faculty, and so to the institution which
is now the seat of the Academic of that city (see UNIVERSITIES).
The Sorbonne owes its origin and its name to Robert of Sorbon,
near Reims (1201-1274), who went to Paris about the beginning
of the reign of St Louis in order to qualify for the priesthood,
attained high repute by his sanctity and eloquence, and was
appointed by the king to be his confessor. Assisted by royal
liberality, he built a modest establishment in which were
accommodated seven priests charged with the duty of teaching
theology gratuitously; to this he added a college of preparatory
studies, all under the direction of a provisor, under whom was
an annual prior who had the actual management. The new
institution was authorized in 1252 by a deed signed by Queen
Blanche, on behalf of Louis IX. (who was in Palestine); and in
1257 a site was given by the king in the heart of the Latin
quarter. It was declared " useful to religion " by Pope Alex-
ander IV. in 1259, and papal bulls authorizing and confirming
the college were granted in 1263 and 1268. Destined originally
for poor students (and called domus magistrorum pauperrima,
" most poor house of masters "), the Sorbonne soon became a
meeting-place for all the students of the university of Paris,
who resorted thither to hear the lectures of the most learned
theologians of the period — Guillaume de Saint Amour, Eudes
de Douai, Laurent 1'Anglais, Pierre d'Ailly. At the close of
the century it was organized into a full faculty of theology, and
under this definite form it conferred bachelors', licentiates'
and doctors' degrees, and the severity of its examinations gave
an exceptional value to its diplomas. The so-called " these
sorbonique," instituted towards the beginning of the I4th
century, became the type of its order by the length and difficulty
of its tests. Ultimately the professors of the Sorbonne came
to be resorted to not only for lectures and examinations, but
also for dogmatic decisions and judgments in canon law; the
clergy of France and of the whole Catholic world had recourse
to them in difficult cases, and the Curia Romana itself more
than once laid its doubts before them, giving them the title
of " Concilium in Gallia subsistens." To the Sorbonne belongs
the glory of having introduced printing into France in 1469: «
within its precincts it assigned quarters for Ulric Gering and two
companions in which to set up their presses. The Sorbonne
took a leading part in the religious discussions which agitated
France during the i6th and i8th centuries, and its influence
thus inevitably extended to political questions. During the
insanity of Charles VI. it helped to bring about the absolution
of Jean Sans-Peur for the assassination of the duke of Orleans.
SORBS— SORDINO
Shortly afterwards it demanded and supported the condemnation
of Joan of Arc; during the Reformation it was the animating
spirit of all the persecutions directed against Protestants and
unbelievers: without having advised the massacre of St
Bartholomew, it did not hesitate to justify it, and it inflamed
the League by its vigorous anathemas against Henry III. and
the king of Navarre, hesitating to recognize the latter even
after his abjuration. From this point dates the beginning of
its decadence, and when Richelieu in 1626 ordered the recon-
struction of its church and buildings the following prophetic
couplet was circulated —
"Instaurata ruet jamjam Sprbona. Caduca
Dum fuit, inconcussa stetit; renovata peribit."
The declaration of the clergy in 1682, which it subscribed,
proved fatal to its authority with the Curia Romana; it revived
for a short time under Louis XV. during the struggle against
Jansenism, but this was its last exploit; it was suppressed like
the old universities in 1792.
• When the university of France was organized in 1808 the
Sorbonne became the seat of the academic of Paris; and between
1816 and 1821 the faculties of theology (since disappeared),
science and literature were installed there. The university
library was transferred to the Sorbonne in 1823. In 1868 was
organized the ficole des Hautes Etudes, and in 1897 tHe Ecole
des Chartes also found its home at the Sorbonne.
In 1852 the Sorbonne was made the property of the city of
Paris; a reconstruction of the buildings, projected by Napoleon
III., was begun in 1884, under the architectural direction of
Nenot, and completed in 1889. The old church containing the
tomb of Richelieu was retained on account of its artistic merit.
This new Sorbonne is one of the finest university edifices in the
world, and has developed into the chief French centre of learning.
See A. Franklin, .La Sorbonne (1875) ; Denifle, Documents relatifs
a la fondation de Vuniversite de Paris (1883); J. A. Randolph,
History of the Sorbonne.
SORBS, the tribal name of the Slavonic people, whom the
Germans call Wends in Lusatia (Lausitz) ; they call themselves
Serbs or Luzicane. Their country includes the western ex-
tremity of the kingdom of Saxony and parts of the districts of
Hoyerswerda, Muskau, Kottbus, Kalau, Spremberg and Sorau
in Prussia; they are now surrounded on all sides by Germans,
but they formerly had them as neighbours only on the west
along the Fulda, while on the north towards Kopenick they
marched with the Lutici, on the east with the Poles and Silesians
along the Queiss and Bobr, and on the south were separated
from the Bohemians by the mountains that now make the
Austrian frontier. The Sorbs are divided into High and Low
along a line from Sagan to Muskau and Spremberg. They are
in all about 180,000 in number; 80,000 Low Sorbs and 40,000
of the 100,000 High Sorbs are hi Prussia, and 60,000 High Sorbs
in Saxony. These have gained definite rights for their language
in school and administration, so that Bautzen (Budysin), their
capital, is the intellectual centre not only for Saxon subjects, but
for all High Sorbs and to a great extent for Low Sorbs. The
first monuments of both dialects belong to the Reformation period,
these being translations of Luther's Catechism by Warichius and
Moller. Some Sorbs are Protestants, though the Saxon Sorbs
are mostly Roman Catholics. Early in the igth century the
High Sorbs had a revival under the leadership of F. A. Klin,
a lawyer and politician; A. Seidler, a considerable poet, and
S. E. Smoler, an ethnographer and publicist. More recent writers
are J. Cisinsk and J. Radyserb. A Macica or Literary and
Linguistic Society was founded in 1847, and publishes a Casopis
or Periodical. Meanwhile Low Sorb has remained almost unculti-
• vated owing to the pressure of the Prussian administration.
The two dialects stand between Polish and Cech: they have
lost the nasal vowels, have the accent on the first syllable, and
make tj into t, dj into 2, like Cech, but they retain x and y and,
like Polish, have grod for Cech grad. High Sorb has h,
Low the original g. They have kept the old aorist and dual.
Sorb is usually printed in German blackletter variously adapted;
the Macica publishes some books spelt after the Cech system.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. — G. Krai, Grammatik der wendischen Sprache
in der Oberlausitz (Bautzen, 1895) ; K. E. Mucke, Historische und
vergleichende Laut- u. Formen-Lehre d. niedersorbischen Sprache
(Jablonowski Preisschrift, xviii.) (Leipzig, 1891) ; Pfuhl, Lausitzisch-
Wendisch Worterbuch (High Sorb) (Bautzen, 1866) ; J. G. Zwahr,
Niederlausitz-wendisch-deutsches Handworterbuch (Spremberg, 1847);
M. Hornik, Citanka (Chrestomathy of High Sorb) (Bautzen, 1863);
L. Haupt and J. S. Smoler, Volkslieder der Wenden in der Ober-
und Niederlausitz (Grimma, 1842-1843). (E. H. M.)
SORBY, HENRY CLIFTON (1826-1908), English micro-
scopist and geologist, was born at Woodbourne near Sheffield
on the loth of May 1826. He early developed an interest in
natural science, and one of his first papers related to the excava-
tion of valleys in Yorkshire. He subsequently dealt with the
physical geography of former geological periods, with the wave-
structure in certain stratified rocks, and the origin of slaty
cleavage. He took up the study of rocks and minerals under
the microscope, and published an important memoir On the
Microscopical Structure of Crystals in 1858 (Quart. Journ. Geol.
Soc.). In England he was one of the pioneers in petrography;
he was awarded the Wollaston medal by the Geological
Society of London in 1869, and when president of the society he
published hi his addresses the results of original researches on
the structure and origin of limestones, and of the non-calcareous
stratified rocks (1879-1880). He had previously been president
of the Royal Microscopical Society. He wrote on the construc-
tion and use of the micto-spectroscope in the study of animal
and vegetable colouring matter, and in later essays he dealt
with such varied subjects as the microscopical structure of iron
and steel, and the temperature of the water in estuaries. He
also applied his skill in making preparations of invertebrate
animals for lantern-slides. In 1882 he was elected president
of Firth C611ege, Sheffield. He died on the 9th of March
1908.
SORCERY, magic, enchantment, witchcraft; the use of
supposed supernatural powers by the agency of evil spirits
called forth by spells, incantations, &c., on the part of the
magician, sorcerer or witch. The word meant originally divina-
tion by means of the casting or drawing of lots, and is derived
from the O. Fr. sorcerie, sorcier, a sorcerer, Med. Lat. sortiarius,
one who practises divination by lots, sortes (see MAGIC, DIVINA-
TION and WITCHCRAFT).
SORDELLO, a 13th-century Italian troubadour, bom at
Mantua, who is praised by Dante in the De imlgari eloquio,
and hi the Purgalorio made the type of patriotic pride. He
is also the hero of a well-known poem by Robert Browning.
The real Sordello, so far as we have authentic facts about his
life, hardly seems to justify these idealizations, though he was
the most famous of the Italian troubadours. About 1220 he
appears at Florence in a tavern brawl; and hi 1226, while at
the court of Richard of Bonifazio at Verona, he abducts his
master's wife, Cunizza, at the instigation of her brother, Ezze-
lino da Romano. The scandal resulted in his flight (1229) to
Provence, where he seems to have been for some tune. He
entered the service of Charles of Anjou, and probably accom-
panied him (1265) on his Naples expedition; in 1266 he was a
prisoner in Naples. The last documentary mention of him is
in 1269, and he is supposed to have died in Provence. His
didactic poem, L'Ensenhamen d'onor, and his love songs and
satirical pieces have little in common with Dante's presentation,
but the invective against negligent princes which Dante puts
into his mouth in the 7th canto of the Purgatorio is more ade-
quately paralleled in his Seruentese (1237) on the death of his
patron Blacatz, where he invites the princes of Christendom
to feed on the heart of the hero.
For Sordello's life and works see the edition of Cesare de Lollis
( Halle, 1896); for Browning's poem see Stopford Brooke's Browning
(1902).
SORDINO, SORDONI, SORDUNI, Italian terms somewhat
promiscuously applied by various writers (i) to contrivances
for damping or muting wind, string and percussion instruments
(Sordini); (2) to a family of obsolete wind instruments blown
by means of a double reed (Sordoni or Sordun) ; (3) to a stringed
instrument. To these must also be added the Surdellina or
432
SOREL, AGNES-^-SOREL, ALBERT
Sordellina, a kind of musette invented (see BAGPIPE) in Naples
in the lyth century, and evidently named after class 2.
1. Under the Italian term sordini are comprised the dampers
used with stringed instruments, such as the violin, and the dampers
of keyboard instruments, all well known, and described with the
instruments themselves. As a certain amount of misconception
exists concerning the sordini (Fr. sourdines, Ger. Dampfer), used
from the i6th century with the trumpet and later with the horn,
they may be briefly described. It would appear that the art has
almost been lost of making mutes for trumpets and French horns,
which should affect the timbre only, giving it a certain veiled
mysterious quality similar to that of the sons bcuches or hand-
stopped notes, but affecting the pitch not at all. We read that
when it is necessary to produce this peculiar timbre on the valve-
horn, as for instance in Wagner's Rheingold, the rise of a semi tone
in pitch caused by the introduction of the mute or the hand into the
bell of the horn must be compensated by means of the second
piston which lowers the pitch a semi-tone.1
If the sordino used early in the iyth century had had this effect
of raising the pitch, the fact would have been stated by such writers
as Mersenne and Praetorius; it would, moreover, have rendered
the mute useless with instruments on which no sort of com-
pensation was possible. H. Domnich 1 and J. Frohlich,8 however,
describe the sordino which leaves the pitch unaffected: it con-
sisted of a hollow cone of wood or cardboard, truncated at the
apex to allow the air to pass through and escape through a hole in
the base. The bore of the instrument thus continued through the
cone of the mute was the essential point, and the proportions to be
maintained between the diameters of the two bores were also, no
doubt, of importance. Domnich expressly states that it was when
Hampel substituted a plug of cotton-wool (therefore solid and
providing no central passage for the air) for the mute, that he found
the pitch of the horn raised a semi-tone. Domnich's evidence is
of value, for his father was a horn-player contemporary with
Hampel, and he himself was the intimate friend and colleague of
Punto, Hampel's most celebrated pupil.
2. The sordun or sordoni family are often confused with the
dolcians (Fr. cniinaud, Eng. single curtail, Ger. Kort'or Kortholt),
from which, however, they differed radically. This difference
was not understood by Michael Praetorius, who acknowledges his
mystification. The contra-bass sordun, he says, hardly half the
length of the contra-fagotto, is yet practically of the same pitch,
which is astonishing since the bore is only double once upon itself
as in the fagotto. The kprt likewise is of the same size as the
bass sordun, and yet in pitch it is but a tenor. _ The following
description of the construction and acoustic properties of the sordoni
will clear up the mystery. The body consisted of a cylinder of
wood in which were cut two parallel channels of narrow cylindrical
bore, communicating with each other at the bottom through a
bend, but not with ambient air. At the top of the cylinder was
fitted a double-reed mouthpiece giving access to the column of air
at one end of the bore, while the other was vented through a small
hole in the side, similar to the finger-holes; in the tenor, bass and
contra members of the family, the reed was attached to a curved
brass crook similar to that of the fagotto. So far the description
would almost apply to the dolcian also, but in the latter there is
the radical difference that the bore of the channels is conical, so
that it has the acoustic properties of the open pipe. The sordun,
however, having a cylindrical bore, has the acoustic properties of
the stopped pipe, i.e. the sound waves are twice the length of the
pipe, so that to produce a sound of any given pitch, for instance
for C, the bore need only be half the length, i.e. 4 ft. long. Over-
blowing, on the sordoni, moreover, produced as first harmonic
(the only one required for reed-blown instruments in order to produce
the diatonic scale for the second octave) not the octave, but the
twelfth, or number 3 of the series. This accounts for the fact
that instruments of the fagotto and dolcian type require but 6 or
7 holes to give the diatonic scale throughout the compass, whereas
the sordoni require II or 12 holes. Praetorius states that those
figured by him (Plate XII.) have 12 open holes, and that some speci-
mens have in addition two keys; a hole is also bored through the
bottom of the instrument to allow the moisture condensed from the
breath 'to be shaken out. The 12 holes are stopped by means of
fingers and thumbs and by the ball of the hand or the fleshy under-
part of the joints of the fingers. The compass of the 5 sizes of
sordoni was as follows : —
g; to ~
£-
—f
i. —
to-
3E
I tC
— I
Contrabass.
s
7
^<*" Tenor or
Alto.
Basses
1 See Victor Mahillon, "
(Brussels and London, 1907]
1 Methode de premier et de
Le Cor," Instruments . a . »en<
, pp. 34 and 53.
second cor (Pans, c. 1807), pp.
, pt.
3 and
ii.
4-
* Vollstandige theor.-prakt. Musiklehre fur alle bei dem Or-
chester gebrauchliche Instrumente (Cologne and Bonn, c. 1811).
Two sourdines belonging to the Museum of the Brussels Conserva-
toire, said to be facsimiles of some instruments belonging to the
emperor Maximilian I.'s band, are reproduced in Captain C. R. Day's
Descriptive Catalogue of Musical Instruments (London, 1891). They
differ slightly in construction from the Italian instruments described
by Praetorius. The straight crook is set in the side of the instru-
ment, almost at right angles, the top of the cylinder is surmounted
by a cap, and there are but 6 open holes, the rest being covered by
brass keys in wooden boxes. The pitch of these instruments lies
within a semi-tone of that of the contra-bass and bass of Praetorius.
(K. S.)
SOREL, AGNES (c. 1422-1450), mistress of King Charles VII.
of France, was born of a family of the lesser nobility at Fromen-
teau in Touraine. While still a girl she was attached to the
service of Isabel of Lorraine, queen of Sicily, wife of Rene
of Anjou, the brother-in-law of Charles VII. From 1444 until
her death in 1450 she was the acknowledged mistress of the king,
the first woman to hold that semi-official position which was
to be of so great importance in the subsequent history of the
old regime. Her ascendancy dated from the festivals at Nancy
in 1444, the first brilliant court of Charles VII. Here her great
beauty captivated the king, whose love for her remained constant
until her death. He gave her wealth, castles and lands, and
secured for her the state and distinction of a queen. This first
public recognition of his mistress by a king of France scandal-
ized alf good people and awakened jealousy and intrigue. Her
sudden death from dysentery, shortly after the birth of her
fourth child, was accordingly attributed to poison. Burgundian
historians even openly accused the Dauphin, afterwards
Louis XI., of her death, and later the enemies of Jacques
Coeur, in their search for crimes to be brought against him,
used this rumour to charge him with the one crime most
likely to turn the king against him. Her heart was buried
in the abbey of Jumieges, her body in the collegiate church
of Loches. Contemporary writers all bear witness to her extra-
ordinary beauty, but no genuine portraits of her have come
down to us.
Legend has made an entirely different character of this first
official mistress of the French kings. The date of her birth was
placed at about 1409, her liaison with the king dated from
1433. Then, so the story ran, she drew him from his indolence,
continuing the work of Joan of Arc, both by nerving the king
to warlike enterprises — she did apparently induce him to take
part personally in the conquest of Normandy — and by surround-
ing him with that band of wise advisers who really adminis-
tered France during her ascendancy. Recent investigation has
exploded this romantic story by simply showing that Charles VII.
had not met her until ten years later than in the legend.
Instead of being his sole good angel, she seems rather to have
demoralized the king, who, hitherto chaste, henceforth gave
himself up to courtesans. Yet she favoured the best advisers
of the king, and at least in this deserved the gratitude of the
realm. Pierre de Breze seems especially to have used Agnes
to gain his ascendancy over the king.
See A. Vallet de Viriville's articles in Bibliotkeque de I'&cole des
chartes (3rd series, torn, i.); and R. Duquesne, Vie et aventures
galantes de la belle Sorel (1909).
SOREL, ALBERT (1842-1906), French historian, was born
at Honfleur on the I3th of August 1842. He was of a character-
istically Norman type, and remained all his life a lover of his
native province and its glories. His father, a rich manufac-
turer, would have liked him to succeed to the business, but his
literary vocation prevailed. He went to live hi Paris, where he
studied law, and after a prolonged stay in Germany entered the
Foreign Office (1866). He had strongly-developed literary and
artistic tastes, was an enthusiastic musician, even composing a
little, and wrote both verses and novels, which appeared a little '
later (LaGrande Falaise, 1785-1793, in 1871, Le Docteur Egra in
1873); but he did not go much into society. He was anxious to
know and understand present as well as past events, but he was
above all things a student. In 1870 he was chosen as secretary
by M. de Chaudordy, who had been sent to Tours as a delegate in
charge of the diplomatic side of the problem of national defence;
in these affairs he proved himself a most valuable collaborator;
SOREL, C.— SORGHUM
he was unremitting in his labours, full of finesse, good temper
and excellent judgment, and at the same time so discreet
that we can only guess at the part he played in these terrible
crises. After the war, when Boutmy founded the Ecole libre des
sciences politiques, Sorel was appointed to teach diplomatic
history (1872), a duty which he performed with striking success.
Some of his courses have formed books: Le Trait& de Paris du
20 novembre 1815 (1873); Histoire diplomatique de la guerre
franco-allemande (1875); we may also add the Precis du droit des
gens which he published (1877) in collaboration with his colleague
Theodore Funck-Brentano. In 1875 Sorel left the Foreign
Office and became general secretary to the newly-created office
of the Presidence du senat. Here again, in a congenial position
where, without heavy responsibilities, he could observe and
review affairs, he performed valuable service, especially under
the presidency of the due d'Audiffred Pasquier, who was glad to
avail himself of his advice in the most serious crises of internal
politics. His duties left him, however, sufficient leisure to
enable him to accomplish the great work of his life, L' Europe et la
revolution franfaise. His object was to do over again the work
already done by Sybel, but from a less restricted point of view
and with a clearer and more calm understanding of the chess-
board of Europe. He spent almost thirty years in the prepara-
tion and composition of the eight volumes of this history (vol. i.,
1885; vol. viii., 1904). For he was not merely a conscientious
scholar; the analysis of the documents, mostly unpublished,
on French diplomacy during the first years of the Revolution,
which he published in the Revue historique (vol. v.-vii., x.-xiii.),
shows with what scrupulous care he read the innumerable des-
patches which passed under his notice. He was also, and above
all things, an artist. He drew men from the point of view of a
psychologist as much as of a historian, observing them in their
surroundings and being interested in showing how greatly they
are slaves to the fatality of history. It was this fatality which
led the rashest of the Conventionals to resume the tradition of
the Ancien Regime, and caused the revolutionary propaganda
to end in a system of alliances and annexations which carried on
the work of Louis XIV. This view is certainly suggestive, but
incomplete; it is largely true when applied to the men of the
Revolution, inexperienced or mediocre as they were, and in-
competent to develop the enormous enterprises of Napoleon I.
In the earlier volumes we are readily dominated by the grandeur
and relentless logic of the drama which the author unfolds
before our eyes; in the later ones we begin to make some reser-
vations; but on the whole the work is so complete and so power-
fully constructed that it commands our admiration. Side by
side with this great general work, Sorel undertook various
detailed studies more or less directly bearing on his subject.
In La Question d'Orient au XVIII" siecle, les origines de la triple
alliance (1878), he shows how the partition of Poland on the one
hand reversed the traditional policy of France in eastern Europe,
and on the other hand contributed towards the salvation of re-
publican France in 1793. In the Grands 6crivains series he was
responsible for Montesquieu (1887) and Mme de Sta'el (1891) ; the
portrait which he draws of Montesquieu is all the more vivid for
the intellectual affinities which existed between him and the
author of the Leltres persanes and the Esprit des lois. Later,
in Bonaparte ei Hoche en 1797, he produced a critical comparison
which is one of his most finished works (1896); and in the
Recueil des instructions donnees aux ambassadeurs he prepared
vol. i. dealing with Austria (1884). Most of the articles which
he contributed to various reviews and to the Temps newspaper
have been collected into volumes: Essais d'histoire et de critique
(1883), Lectures historiques (1894), Nouveaux essais d'histoire et
de critique (1898), Etudes de litterature et d'histoire (1901); in
these are to be found a great deal of information and of ideas
not only about political men of the last two centuries, but also
about certain literary men and artists of Normandy. Honours
came to him in abundance, as an eminent writer and not as a
public official. He was elected a member of the Academic des
sciences morales et politiques (December 18, 1889) on the death
of Fustel de Coulanges, and of the Academic frangaise (1894)
433
on the death of Taine. His speeches on his two illustrious
predecessors show how keenly sensible he was of beauty, and how
unbiased was his judgment, even in the case of those whom he
most esteemed and loved. He had just obtained the great
Prix Osiris of a hundred thousand francs, conferred for the first
time by the Institut de France, when he was stricken with his
last illness and died at Paris on the agth of June 1906.
(C. B«.)
SOREL, CHARLES, SIEUR DE SOUVIGNY (1597-1674), French
novelist and miscellaneous writer, was born in Paris about
1597. Very little is known of his life except that in 1635 he was
historiographer of France. He wrote on science, history and
religion, but is only remembered by his novels. He tried to
destroy the vogue of the pastoral romance by writing a novel
of adventure, the Histoire comique de Francion (1622). The
episodical adventures of Francion found many readers, who
nevertheless reserved their admiration for the Astr&e it was
intended to ridicule. Sorel decided to make his intention un-
mistakable, and in Le Berger extravagant (3 vols., 1627) he wrote
a burlesque, in which a Parisian shop-boy, his head turned by
sentiment, chooses an unprepossessing mistress and starts life
as a shepherd with a dozen sheep on the banks of the Seine.
Sorel did not succeed in founding the novel of character, and
what he accomplished was more in the direction of farce, but
he struck a shrewd blow at romance. Among his other works
are Polyandre (1648) and La Connaissance des bans livres (1673).
He died in Paris on the 8th of March 1674.
SOREL, a town and port of entry of Quebec, Canada, capital
of Richelieu county, 42 m. N.E. of Montreal, at the confluence
of the Richelieu and St Lawrence rivers. Pop. (1901), 7057. It
is on the Grand Trunk and the Quebec Southern railways, and
is a port of call for the Montreal and Quebec river steamers. It
contains iron and leather manufactories, and shipbuilding is
carried on. It occupies the site of a fort built in 1665 by A. de
Tracy to guard the route by way of the Richelieu to Lake
Champlain and the Hudson, and is named after the first com-
mandant of the garrison.
SORGHUM, a genus of grasses belonging to the tribe Andro-
pogoneae, and including one of the most important tropical
grains, Sorghum vulgare, great millet, Indian millet or Guinea
corn. In India it is known as jawari (Hindustani), jowari
(Bengali), cholum (Tamil), and
jonna (Telugu), and in the
West Indies as Negro or
Guinea Corn. It is a strong
grass, growing to a height of
from 4 to 8 or even 16 ft.; the
leaves are sheathing, solitary,
and about 2 in. broad and 25 ft.
in length; the panicles are
contracted and dense, and the
grains, which are enclosed in
husks and protected by awns,
are round, hard, smooth, shin-
ing, brownish-red, and some-
what larger than mustard
seeds. The plant is cultivated
in various parts of India and
other countries of Asia, in the
United States, and in the
south of Europe. Its culms
and leaves afford excellent
fodder for cattle; and the
grain, of which the yield in
favourable situations is up-
wards of a hundredfold, is
used for the same purposes
as maize, rice, corn and other
cereals.
Sorghum vulgare.
Speaking of its cultivation, Eduard Hackel (in his article on
" Grasses " in Die naturlichen Pflanzenfamilien) says the culture
of Sorghum probably had its origin in Africa, where a variety
434
SORIA— SORRENTO
known as durra is now cultivated over the entire continent, and
has become the most important cereal; the natives also chew
the stem, which contains sugar. In Europe it is raised less for
bread than for mechanical purposes; the panicles are made into
the so-called rice-brooms and into brushes. In Germany it
is occasionally raised for green fodder. From the fruit the
Kaffirs make an alcoholic drink, Tialva, and the negroes one
known as Merisa. Allied species are S. tricolor, much valued
in India as a forage-plant, and 5. saccharatum, commonly called
sorghum or Chinese sugar-cane, which is extensively cultivated
in China, North India and Africa. The latter species is grown
in America chiefly for the manufacture of molasses from its
juice, and in France as a source of alcohol.
A full account of the cultivation and use of the species in India will
be found in Sir G. Watt's Dictionary of the Economic Products of
India (1893).
SORIA, a province of Spain, formed in 1833 of districts
belonging to Old Castile, and bounded on the N. by Logrono,
E. by Saragossa, S. by Guadalajara and W. by Segovia and
Burgos. Pop. (1900), 150,462; area, 3983 sq. m. Soria is a
bleak and lofty region, bounded on three sides by mountains.
A range of sierras culminating in the peaks of Urbion (7389 ft.)
and Cebollera (7139 ft.) on the north, and the great Sierra del
Moncayo (7707 ft.) on the east, separate the valley of the Duero
(Douro) from that of the Ebro, while on the south it is divided
from the valley of the Tagus by a continuation of the Sierra
Guadarrama. Almost the whole of the province belongs to the
region watered by the Duero and its affluents. This river rises
among the southern slopes of Urbion and traverses the province
in a circuitous course, first to the south and then to the west.
The other rivers are mostly affluents of the Duero, but a few of
the tributaries of the Ebro have their sources within the limits
of the province. The soil is not remarkable for fertility; a large
proportion of the area being occupied with barren mountains,
which are covered with snow for a great part of the year. There
are, however, in some places extensive forests of pine, oak and
beech; while in others there are large tracts of pasture land, on
which numbers of cattle, sheep and swine are reared. Grain
and vegetables are raised, but neither of very good quality nor
in sufficient quantities to supply the wants of the population.
The climate is cold and dry, and the scenery grand, but austere.
Most of the people are employed in farming and rearing cattle;
but the cutting and sawing of timber and the preparation of
charcoal also occupy a considerable number. There is a great
want of roads; and, although three railways traverse the pro-
vince, commerce is consequently very limited. Fine wool was
formerly produced; but the only important articles of trade at
present are timber, salt, asphalt, leather and cheese, which
are sent to Madrid and Aragon. Salt and asphalt are the only
minerals worked, though others are known to exist. The
capital, Soria, is described below. The only other town with
more than 3500 inhabitants is El Burgo de Osma (3509), an
episcopal see. Between 1887 and 1900 the population decreased
by nearly 7000; its density in the last-named year was 37-7 per
sq. m., or lower than that of any other Spanish province except
Cuenca (37-6). The gradual depopulation of many districts is due
to the stagnation of industry, and the attraction of emigrants
to large towns outside the province.
SORIA, the capital of the Spanish province of Soria; on the
right bank of the river Duero (Douro), 155 m. N.E. of Madrid
by the Madrid- Alcuneza-Soria railway. Pop. (1900), 7151.
Soria has a provincial institute, schools for teachers of both
sexes, many primary schools, savings banks, two hospitals,
barracks, a theatre and a bull-ring. The churches of Santo
Domingo and San Nicolas, the cloisters of the convent of San
Juan, and several other ecclesiastical buildings are fine specimens
of Romanesque work of the i2th and I3th centuries. Near the
Duero are the ruins of the old citadel, and in many places the
remains of the I3th century walls of the city are yet standing.
The more modern streets are clean and well paved. The bridge
across the Duero is a massive structure which formerly had
a tower in the centre. The population is chiefly agricultural;
but there are also flour mills, tanneries, potteries, &c. ; and some
trade in timber, wool and fruit is carried on. The Iberian and
Carthaginian city of Numantia, captured in 133 B.C. by the
Romans, after a long and heroic resistance, was situated 3 m.
N., on a hill overlooking the confluence of the small river Tera
with the Duero.
SOROKI, a town of south Russia, in the government of
Bessarabia, 81 m. N.N.W. of Kishinev, in a narrow ravine on
the right bank of the Dnieper. Pop. (1900), 25,523, half of whom
were Jews. It is an important river port for the export of corn,
wool, fruit, wine and cattle. Formerly it was the old Genoese
colony of Olchionia, and has still the ruins of a 13th-century
Genoese castle. In the i sth century the Moldavians erected here
a fort, which the Poles took in the 1 7th century. Peter the Great
captured the place in 1711, but it was returned to the Turks, and
was only definitely annexed to Russia in 1812. (M. H. S.)
SOROLLA Y BASTIDA, JOAQUIN (1863- ), Spanish
painter, was born in Valencia, and received his art education
first in his native town and under F. Pradilla, and then in Italy
and Paris. His first striking success he achieved with " Another
Margaret," which was awarded a gold medal in Madrid and was
bought for the St Louis Gallery. He soon rose to general fame
and became the acknowledged head of the modern Spanish
school of painting. His picture of the " Fishermen's Return "
was much admired at the Paris Salon and was acquired by the
state for the Luxembourg Museum. His exhibit at the Paris
Universal Exposition of 1900 won him a medal of honour and
his nomination as Knight of the Legion of Honour. A special
exhibition of his works — figure subjects, landscapes and por-
traits— at the Georges Petit Gallery in Paris in 1906 eclipsed
all his earlier successes and led to his appointment as Officer of
the Legion of Honour. He is represented at the Berlin National
Gallery, at the Venice and Madrid Museums, and in many private
collections in Europe and America, especially in Buenos Aires.
He painted portraits of King Alphonso and Queen Victoria
Eugenie of Spain, and a magnificent portrait group of the
family of Don Aureliano de Beruete. Three of his works were
shown in London at the Spanish Exhibition, Guildhall, 1901.
SORREL, Rumex Acetosa, a member of the natural order
Polygonaceae, a hardy perennial, native to Britain and found
throughout the north temperate zone. The leaves are used in
soups, salads and sauces. Sorrel grows freely in any good garden
soil, and is increased by dividing the roots during the early
part of spring. They should be planted in rows 15 to 18 in.
apart. The leaves, when fully grown, are gathered singly.
The common garden sorrel is much superior to the wild plant;
but the Belleville, which is the kind generally cultivated near
Paris, is still better, its leaves being larger and not so acid.
The Blistered-leaved, which has large leaves with a blistered
surface, has the advantage of being slow in running to seed.
French Sorrel (Rumex scutatus) is a hardy perennial, distributed
through Europe but not native in Britain, with densely-branched
trailing stems. The leaves are roundish, heart-shaped and
glaucous; they are more acid than those of the common sorrel.
SORRENTO (anc. Surrentum, q.v.), a city of Campania, Italy,
in the province of Naples, 10 m. by [electric tramway (along
the highroad) S.W. from Castellammare di Stabia, and served
also by steamer from Naples (16 m.). Pop. (1901), 6849 (town) ;
8832 (commune). It stands on cliffs about 160 ft. above sea-level
on the north side of the peninsula that' separates the Bay of
Naples from the Bay of Salerno. Sorrento contains only a few
ancient remains, and its present prosperity depends mainly on
its reputation as a place of resort both in winter and in summer,
its northerly aspect rendering it comparatively cool. Its
climate is delightful and healthy, and it is situated amid pictur-
esque coast scenery. The chief local industries are the inlaying
of wood, silk and lace-making and straw-plaiting,' and the
growing of oranges and lemons. In ancient times the Surrentine
wines had a great repute.
In 1558 the corsair Pialy attacked the town and carried off two
thousand prisoners. It was at Sorrento that Bernardo Tasso
wrote his Amadigi; and Torquato Tasso, to whom a marble
SOSIGENES— SOTO
435
statue has been erected in the Piazza, was born in the town in
1544-
SOSIGENES, Greek astronomer and mathematician, probably
of Alexandria, flourished in the ist century B.C. According to
Pliny (Nat. Hist, xviii. 25), he was employed by Julius Caesar
in the reform of the Roman calendar (46 B.C.), and wrote three
treatises, which he conscientiously corrected. From another
passage of Pliny (ii. 8) it is inferred that Sosigenes maintained
the doctrine of the motion of Mercury round the sun, which is
referred to by his contemporary Cicero, and was also held by the
Egyptians.
The astronomer is to be distinguished from the Peripatetic
philosopher of the same name, who lived at the end of the 2nd century
A.D. He was the tutor of Alexander of Aphrodisias, the most
famous of the commentators on Aristotle. He wrote a work
on Revolving Spheres, from which some important extracts have
been preserved in Simplicius's commentary on Aristotle's De
caelo (the subject is fully discussed by T. H. Martin, " Sur deux
Sosigene," in Annales de lafac. des letlres de Bordeaux, i., 1879).
SOSITHEUS (c. 280 B.C.), Greek tragic poet, of Alexandria
Troas, a member of the Alexandrian " pleiad." He must have
resided at some time in Athens, since Diogenes Laertius tells
us (vii. 5, 4) that he attacked the Stoic Cleanthes on the stage,
and was hissed off by the audience. As Suidas also calls him a
Syracusan, it is conjectured that he belonged to the literary
circle at the court of Hiero II. According to an epigram of
Dioscorides in the Greek Anthology (Anth. Pal. vii. 707) he
restored the satyric drama in its original form. A considerable
fragment is extant of his pastoral play Daphnis or Lityerses, in
which the Sicilian shepherd, in search of his love Pimplea, is
brought into connexion with the Phrygian reaper, son of Midas,
who slew all who unsuccessfully competed with him in reaping
his corn. Heracles came to the aid of Daphnis and slew
Lityerses.
See O. Crusius s.v. Lityerses in Roscher's Lexikon der griechischen
und romischen Mythologie. The fragment of twenty-one lines in
Nauck's Tragicorum graecorum fragmenta apparently contains
the beginning of the drama. Two lines from the Aethlius (probably
the traditional first king of Elis, father of Endymion) are quoted
by Stobaeus (Flor. li. 23).
SOTADES, Greek satirist, of Maronea in Thrace (or of Crete),
chief representative of the writers of coarse satirical poems,
called KivcuSoi,1 composed in the Ionic dialect and in a metre
named after him " sotadic." He lived in Alexandria during the
reign of Ptolemy II. Philadelphus (285-247 B.C.). For a violent
attack on the king, on the occasion of his marriage to his own
sister Arsinoe, Sotades was imprisoned, but escaped to the
island of Caunus, where he was afterwards captured by Patro-
clus, Ptolemy's admiral, shut up in a leaden chest, and thrown
into the sea (Athenaeus xiv. p. 620; Plutarch, De educatione
puerorum, 14).
Only a few genuine fragments of Sotades have been preserved
(see J. G. Hermann, Elementa doctrinae metricae, 1816); those in
Stobaeus are generally considered spurious. Ennius translated
some poems of this kind, included in his book of satires, under the
name of Sola.
SOTER, pope from about 167 to 174. He wrote to the Church
of Corinth and sent it aid. His letter is mentioned in the reply
given by Dionysius, bishop of Corinth, and Harnack thinks it
can be identified with the second so-called epistle of Clement to
the Corinthians.
SOTHEBY, WILLIAM (1737-1833), English author, was born
in London on the gth of November 1757. He was educated at
Harrow, and subsequently procured a commission in a cavalry
regiment. In 1780 he retired from the army on his marriage
and devoted himself to literature, becoming a prominent figure
in London literary society. His ample means enabled him to
play the part of patron to many struggling authors, and his
friends included Scott, Byron, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey,
Hallam and Tom Moore. He himself soon acquired a consider-
able reputation as a translator, his verse translation of Virgil's
1 The word is also used of the dancers in indecent ballets, to
which such poems were probably written as an accompaniment.
In Greek and Latin authors nlvaibm (cinaedus) generally means
" catamite."
Georgics (1800) being specially praised by contemporary critics,
while in later life he published translations of the Iliad and
Odyssey. He also wrote several historical tragedies for the
stage, of which one was acted, and some poems. He died on
the 30th of December 1833.
SOTHERN, EDWARD ASKEW (1826-1881), English actor,
was born in Liverpool on the ist of April 1826, the son of a
merchant. He began acting as an amateur, and in 1849 drifted
into a professional engagement with a dramatic company at St
Heliers in Jersey, where he appeared as Claude Melnotte in
Bulwer Lytton's Lady of Lyons. Between then and 1858 he played
in various companies without particular success, in Birmingham
and in America, where he went in 1852. On the i2th of May
1858 Tom Taylor's Our American Cousin, a play of no special
merit, was brought out in New York, with Southern in the small
part of Lord Dundreary, a caricature of an English nobleman.
He gradually worked up the humour of this part so that it
became the central figure of the play. In 1861, when it was
produced at the Haymarket Theatre, in London, he made such a
hit that the piece ran for nearly five hundred nights: " Dundreary
whiskers " became the fashion, and Dundreary this, that or
the other made its appearance on every side. At various
times Sothern revived the character, which retained its popu-
larity in spite of all the extravagances to which he developed its
amusing features; and his name will always be famous in con-
nexion with this r61e. In T. W. Robertson's David Garrick
(1864) he again had a great success, his acting in the title-part,
which he created, being wonderfully effective. He won wide
popularity also from his interpretation of Sam Slingsby in
Oxenford's Brother Sam (1865). Sothern was a born comedian,
and off the stage had a passion for practical joking that amounted
almost to a mania. His house in Kensington was a resort for
people of fashion, and he was as much a favourite in America
as in the United Kingdom. He died in London on the 2 ist of
January 1881.
Sothern had three sons, all actors, the second of them, EDWARD
H. SOTHERN (b. 1859), being prominent on the American stage.
SOTHIC PERIOD, in ancient Egyptian chronology, the period
in which the year of 365 days circled in succession through all
the seasons. The tropical year, determined as it was in Egypt
by the heliacal rising of Sirius (Sothis), was almost exactly the
Julian year of precisely 3655 days (differing from the true solar
year, which was n minutes less than this). The sothic period
was thus 1461 years.
See EGYPT, Ancient, § F. " Chronology."
SOTO, FERDINANDO [FERNANDO, or HERNANDO] DE (1496?-
1542), Spanish captain and explorer, often, though wrongly,
called the discoverer of the Mississippi (first sighted by Alonzo
de Pineda in 1519), was born at Jerez de los Caballeros, in Estre-
madura, of an impoverished family of good position, and was
indebted to the favour of Pedrarias d'Avila for the means of
pursuing his studies at the university. In 1519 he accompanied
d'Avila on his second expedition to Darien. In 1528 he explored
the coast of Guatemala and Yucatan, and in 1532 he led 300
volunteers to reinforce Pizarro in Peru. He played a prominent
part in the conquest of the Incas' kingdom (helping to seize
and guard the person of Atahualpa, discovering a pass through
the mountains to Cuzco, &c.), and returned to Spain with a
fortune of 180,000 ducats, which enabled him to marry the
daughter of his old patron d'Avila, and to maintain the state
of a nobleman. Excited by the reports of Alvaro Nunez
(Cabeza de Vaca) and others as to the wealth of Florida (a term
then commonly used in a much wider extension than subse-
quently), he sold great part of his property, gathered a force of
620 foot and 1 23 horse, armed four ships, and obtained from
Charles V. a commission as " adelantado of the Lands of Florida"
and governor of Cuba. Sailing from San Lucar in April 1338,
he first went to Havana, his advanced base of operations; starting
thence on the i2th of May 1539 he landed in the same month
in Espiritu Santo Bay, on the west coast of the present state of
Florida. For nearly four years he led his men in fruitless search
of gold hither and thither over the south-east of the North
SOU— SOULT
American continent. His exact route is often doubtful; but it
seems to have passed north into Georgia as far as 35' N., then
south to the neighbourhood of Mobile, and finally north-west
towards the Mississippi. This river was reached early in 1541,
and the following winter was spent on the Ouachita, in modern
Arkansas and Louisiana, west of the Mississippi. As they were
returning in 1542 along the Mississippi, De Soto died (either
in May or June; the 2$th of June is perhaps the true date),
and his body was sunk in its waters. Failing in an attempt
to push westwards again, De Solo's men, under Luis Moscoso
de Alvarado, descended the Mississippi to the sea in nineteen
days from a point close to the junction of the Arkansas with the
great river,and thence coasted along the Gulf of Mexico to Panuco.
Of this unfortunate expedition three very different narratives
are extant, of seemingly independent origin. The first was pub-
lished in 1557 at Evora, and professes to be the work of a Portuguese
gentleman of Elvas, who had accompanied the expedition : Relaxant
verdadeira dos trabalhos q ho gouernador do Fernado d'Souto &
certos fidalgos Portugueses passarom no d'scobrimeto da Provincia
da Florida. Agora nouamete feita per hu fidalgo Deluas. An
English translation was published by Hakluyt in 1609 (reprinted
from the 1611 edition by the Hakluyt Society [London, 1851]), and
another by an anonymous translator in 1686, the latter being based
on a French version by Citri de la Guette (Paris, 1685). The
second narrative is the famous history of Florida by the Inca,
Garcitasso de la Vega, who obtained his information from a Spanish
cavalier engaged in the enterprise; it was completed in 1591, first
appeared at Lisbon in 1605 under the title of La Florida del Ynca,
and has since passed through many editions in various languages.
The third is a_ report presented to Charles V. of Spain in his Council
of the Indies in 1544, by Luis Hernandez de Biedma, who had ac-
companied De Soto as His Majesty's factor. It is to be found in
Ternaux-Compans' " Recueil de pieces sur la Floride " in the Histo-
rical Collections of Louisiana (Philadelphia, 1850) and in W. B. Rye's
reprint for the Hakluyt Society of Hakluyt's translation of the
Portuguese narrative (The Discovery and Conquest of Terra Florida,
London, 1851).
See also Bancroft's History of the United States, vol. i. ; J. H.
M'Culloch, Researches . . . concerning the aboriginal history of
America (Baltimore, 1829) ; Albert Gallatin, " Synopsis of the Indian
Tribes," in Archaeologia americana, vol. ii. (Cambridge, Mass.,
1836) ; E. G. Bourne (ed.), Narratives of the Career of Hernando de Soto
in the Conquest of Florida (2 v., New York, 1904); J. W. Monette,
History of the Discovery and Settlement of the Valley of the Mississippi
(New York, 1846, 2 vols.).
SOU (0. Fr. sol, Lat, solidus, sc. nummus), the name of the
bronze 5-centime French coin, corresponding to the English
" halfpenny." It is still colloquially used in France in reckoning,
and the franc, 2 and 5-franc pieces are known as piece de vingt,
quarante and cent sous respectively. The solidus was originally
a gold coin, first struck c. A.D. 312 by Constantine to take the
place of the aureus. In the Eastern Empire this gold coin
was the standard down to 1453, and, as the " bezant," circulated
from Portugal to the Indies. In the West after Pippin gold
coinage ceased and the solidus in silver became the standard, one
pound of silver making 22 sols (solidi) and 264 denier 'S (denarii).
Under Charlemagne one pound of silver =20 sols =240 deniers.
The lime (libra), the sol and the denier formed the universal
money of account throughout France until the Revolution; and
they have left their mark on the English money symbols £ s. d.,
for pounds, shillings and pence.
SOUBISE, BENJAMIN DE ROHAN, Due DE (? 1580-1642),
Huguenot leader, younger brother of Henri de Rohan, inherited
his title through his mother Catherine de Parthenay. He served
his apprenticeship as a soldier under Prince Maurice of Orange-
Nassau in the Low Countries. In the religious wars from 1621
onwards his elder brother chiefly commanded on land and in the
south, Soubise in the west and along the sea-coast. His exploits
in the conflict have been sympathetically related by his brother,
who if he was not quite an impartial witness, was one of the best
military critics of the time. Soubise's chief exploit was a singu-
larly bold and well-conducted attack (in 1625) on the Royalist
fleet in the river Blavet (which included the cutting of a boom
in the face of superior numbers) and the occupation of Oleron.
He commanded at Rochelle during the famous siege, and (if
we may believe his brother) the failure of the defence and of the
English attack on Rhe was mainly due to the alternate obstinacy
of the townsfolk and the English commanders in refusing to
listen to Soubise's advice. When surrender became inevitable
he fled to England, which he had previously visited in quest of
succour. He died in 1642 in London. The Soubise title after-
wards served as the chief second designation (not for heirs
apparent, but for the chief collateral branch lor the time being)
of the house of Rohan-Chabot.
The name Soubise appears again in the military history of
France in the person of CHARLES DE ROHAN, PRINCE DE SOUBISE
(1715-1787), peer and marshal of France, the grandson of the
princesse de Soubise, who is known to history as one of
the mistresses of Louis XIV. He accompanied Louis XV. in the
campaign of 1744-48 and attained high military rank, which
he owed more to his courtiership than to his generalship. Soon
after the beginning of the Seven Years' War, through the
influence of Mme de Pompadour, he was put in command of a
corps of 24,000 men, and in November 1757 he sustained the
crushing defeat of Rossbach. He was more fortunate, however,
in his later military career, and continued in the service until
the general peace of 1763, after which he lived the life of an
ordinary courtier and man of fashion in Paris, dying on the 4th
of July 1787.
SOUHAM, JOSEPH, COUNT (1760-1837), French soldier, was
born at Lubersac on the 30th of April 1760, and served in the
French army as a private from 1782 to 1790. In 1792, having
shown himself active in the cause of the Revolution, he was
elected commandant of a volunteer battalion, and by 1793 he
had risen to the rank of general of division. He served with
credit under Pichegru in Holland (1795), but in 1799 fell into
disgrace on suspicion of being concerned in Royalist intrigues.
He was reinstated in 1800 and served under Moreau in the Danube
campaign of that year. During the Consulate he appears to
have been involved in conspiracies, and along with his old com-
manders Moreau and Pichegru was disgraced for alleged par-
ticipation in that of Georges Cadoudal. He regained his rank,
however, in 1809, took a notable part in Gouvion St Cyr's opera-
tions in Catalonia, and won the title of count by his conduct at
the action of Vich, in which he was wounded. In 1812 Marshal
Massena, in declining the command of Marmont's army which
had just been defeated at Salamanca, recommended Souham
for the post. The latter was thus pitted against Wellington, and
by his skilful manoeuvres drove the English general back from
Burgos and regained the ground lost at Salamanca. In 1813 he
distinguished himself again at Liitzen and at Leipzig (when he
was wounded). At the fall of the First Empire he deserted the
emperor, and having suffered for the Royalist cause was well
received by Louis XVIII., who gave him high commands.
These Souham lost at the return of Napoleon and regained
after the Second Restoration. He retired in 1832, and died on
the 28th of April 1837.
SOULARY, JOSEPHIN [JOSEPH MARIE] (1815-1891), French
poet, son of a Lyons merchant of Genoese origin (Solan), was
born on the 23rd of February 1815. He entered a line regiment
when he was sixteen, serving for five years. He was chef de
bureau in the prefecture of the Rh6ne from 1845 to 1867, and
in 1868 he became librarian to the Palais des arts in his native
town. He died at Lyons on the 28th of March 1891. His
works include A trovers champs (1837); Les Cinq cord.es du luth
(1838); Les Ephemeres (two series, 1846 and 1857); Sonnets
humoristiques (1862); Les Figulines (1862); Pendant Vinvasion
(1871); Les Rimes ironiques (1877); Jeux divins (1882), and
two comedies. His (Euvres poetiques were collected in three
volumes (1872-1883). 'His Sonnets humoristiques attracted great
attention, and charmed their readers by the mixture of gaiety
and tragedy. His mastery over the technical difficulties of his
art, especially in the sonnet, won him the title of the " Benvenuto
of rhyme."
See also Paul Marieton, Soulary et la PUiade lyonnaise (1884).
SOULT, NICOLAS JEAN DE DIEU, Duke of Dalmatia (1769-
1851), marshal of France, was born at Saint-Amans-la-Bastide
(now in department of the Tarn) on the 29th of March 1769, and
was the son of a country notary at that place. He was fairly well
educated, and intended for the bar, but his father's death when
SOUMET— SOUND
437
he was still a boy made it necessary for him to seek his fortune,
and he enlisted as a private in the French infantry in 1785. His
superior education ensured his promotion to the rank of sergeant
after six years' service, and in July 1791 he became instructor
to the first battalion of volunteers of the Bas-Rhin. He served
with his' battalion in 1792. By 1794 he was adjutant-general
(with the rank of chef de brigade). After the battle of Fleurus,
in which he greatly distinguished himself for coolness, he was
promoted general of brigade by the representatives on mission.
For the next five years he was constantly employed in Germany
under Jourdan, Moreau, Kleber and Lefebvre, and in 1799 he
was promoted general of division and ordered to proceed to
Switzerland. It was at this time that he laid the foundations
of his military fame, and he particularly distinguished himself
in Massena's great Swiss campaign, and especially at the battle
of Zurich. He accompanied Massena to Genoa, and acted as his
principal lieutenant throughout the protracted siege of that city,
during which he operated with a detached force without the
walls, and after many successful actions he was wounded and
taken prisoner at Monte Cretto on the i3th of April 1800. The
victory of Marengo restoring his freedom, he received the
command of the southern part of the kingdom of Naples, and in
1802 he was appointed one of the four generals commanding the
consular guard. Though he was one of those generals who
had served under Moreau, and who therefore, as a rule, disliked
and despised Napoleon, Soult had the wisdom to show his de-
votion to the ruling power; in consequence he was in August 1803
appointed to the command-in-chief of the camp of Boulogne, and
in May 1804 he was made one of the first marshals of France.
He commanded a corps in the advance on Ulm, and at Austerlitz
(q.v.) he led the decisive attack on the allied centre. He played
a great part in all the famous battles of the Grande Armee,
except the battle of Friedland (on the day of which he forced his
way into Konigsberg), and after the conclusion of the peace of
Tilsit he returned to France and was created (1808) duke of
Dalmatia. In the following year he was appointed to the com-
mand of the II. corps of the army with which Napoleon intended
to conquer Spain, and after winning the battle of Gamonal he
was detailed by the emperor to pursue Sir John Moore, whom
he only caught up at Corunna.
For the next four years Soult remained in Spain, and his
military history is that of the Peninsular War (q.v.). In 1809,
after his defeat by Sir John Moore, he invaded Portugal and
took Oporto, but, busying himself with the political settlement
of his conquests in the French interests and, as he hoped, for his
own ultimate benefit as a possible candidate for the throne,
he neglected to advance upon Lisbon, and was eventually dis-
lodged from Oporto by Sir Arthur Wellesley, making a painful
and almost disastrous retreat over the mountains. After the
battle of Talavera he was made chief of staff of the French
troops in Spain with extended powers, and on the igth of No-
vember 1809 won the great victory of Ocana. In 1810 he invaded
Andalusia, which he speedily reduced, with the exception of
Cadiz. In 1811 he marched north into Estremadura, and took
Badajoz, and when the Anglo-Portuguese army laid siege to it
he marched to its rescue, and fought the famous battle of Albuera
(May 1 6). In 1812, however, he was obliged, after Welling-
ton's great victory of Salamanca, to evacuate Andalusia, and
was soon after recalled from Spain at the request of Joseph
Bonaparte, with whom, as with the other marshals, he had
always disagreed. In March 1813 he assumed the command of
the IV. corps of the Grande Armee and commanded the centre
at Liitzen and Bautzen, but he was soon sent, with unlimited
powers, to the south of France to repair the damage done by
the great defeat of Vittoria. His campaign there is the finest
proof of his genius as a general, although he was repeatedly
defeated by the English under Wellington, for his soldiers were
but raw conscripts, while those of Wellington were the veterans
of many campaigns.
Such was the military career of Marshal Soult. His political
career was by no means so creditable, and it has been said of
him that he had character only in front of the enemy. After
the first abdication of Napoleon he declared himself a Royalist,
received the order of St Louis, and acted as minister for war from
the 3rd of December 1814 to the nth of March 1815. When
Napoleon returned from Elba Soult at once declared himself a
Bonapartist, was made a peer of France and acted as major-
general (chief of staff) to the emperor in the campaign of Water-
loo, in which role he distinguished himself far less than he had
done as commander of an over-matched army. At the Second
Restoration he was exiled, but not for long, for in 1819 he was
recalled and in 1820 again made a marshal of France. He once
more tried to show himself a fervent Royalist and was made a
peer in 1827. After the revolution of 1830 he made out that he
was a partisan of Louis Philippe, who welcomed his adhesion
and revived for him the title of marshal-general. He served as
minister for war from 1830 to 1834, as ambassador extraordinary
to London for the coronation of Queen Victoria in 1838, and
again as minister for war from 1840 to 1844. In 1848, when
Louis Philippe was overthrown, Soult again declared himself
a republican. He died at his castle of Soultberg, near his
birthplace, on the 26th of November 1851. Soult himself wrote
but little. He published a memoir justifying his adhesion to
Napoleon during the Hundred Days, and his notes and journals
were arranged by his son Napoleon Hector (1801-1857), who
published the first part (Memoires du marechal-general Soult) in
1854. Le Noble's Memoires sur les operations des Francois en
Galicie are supposed to have been written from Soult papers.
See A. Salle, Vie politique du marechal Soult (Paris, 1834) I A.
de Grozelier, Le Marechal Soult (Castres, 1851) ; A. Combes, Histoire
anecdotigue du marechal Soult (Castres, 1869).
SOUMET, ALEXANDRE (i 788-1845) , French poet, was born on
the 8th of February 1788 at Castelnaudary, department of Aude.
His father wished him to enter the army, but an early-developed
love of poetry turned the boy's ambition in other directions.
He was an admirer of Klopstock and Schiller, then little known in
France, and reproached Mme de Stael with lack of enthusiasm
for her subject in De I'Allemagne. Soumet came to Paris in
1810, and some poems in honour of Napoleon secured his nomi-
nation as auditor of the Conseil d'Etat. His well-known elegy
La Pauwe fille appeared in 1814, and two successful tragedies
produced in 1822, Clytemnestre and Saul, secured his admission
to the Academy in 1824. Jeanne a' Arc (1825) aroused great
enthusiasm, and was the best of his plays. Among his other
pieces Elisabeth de France (1828), a weak imitation of Schiller's
Don Carlos, may be noted, but Soumet's real bent was towards
epic poetry. His most considerable work is a poem inspired
by Klopstock, La Divine epopee, which describes the descent of
Christ into Hades. Under Louis XVIII. he became librarian
of Saint-Cloud, and subsequently was transferred to Rambouillet
and to Compiegne. He died on the 3Oth of March 1845, leaving
an unfinished epic on Jeanne d'Arc. His daughter Gabrielle
(Mme Beauvain d'Altenheim) had collaborated with him in some
of his later works.
SOUND,1 subjectively the sense impression of the organ of
1 " Sound " is an interesting example of the numerous homony-
mous words in the English language. In the sense in which it is
treated in this article it appears in Middle English as soun, and
comes through Fr. son from Lat. sonus; the d is a mere addition,
as in the nautical term " bound " (outward, homeward bound) for
the earlier " boun," to make ready, prepare. In the adjectival
meaning, healthy, perfect, complete, chiefly used of a deep undis-
turbed sleep, or of a well-based argument or doctrine, or of a person
well trained in his profession, the word is in O. Eng. sund, and appears
also in Ger. gesund, Du. gezond. It is probably cognate with the
Lat. sanus, hea'thy, whence the Eng. sane, insanity, sanitation,
&c. Lastly, there is a group of words which etymologists are in-
clined to treat as being all forms of the word which in O. Eng. is sund,
meaning " swimming." These words are for (i) the swim-bladder
of a fish; (2) a narrow stretch of water between an inland sea and
the ocean, or between an island and the mainland, &c., cf. SOUND,
THE, below; (3) to test or measure the depth of anything, particu-
larly the depth of water in lakes or seas (see SOUNDING, below).
As a substantive the term is used of a surgical instrument for the
exploration of a wound, cavity, &c., a probe. In these senses
the word has frequently been referred to Lat. sub undo, under the
water; and Fr. sombre, gloomy, possibly from sub umbra, beneath
the shade, is given as a parallel.
438
SOUND
[INTRODUCTORY
' hearing, and objectively the vibratory motion which produces
the sensation of sound. The physiological and psychica
aspects of sound are treated in the article HEARING. In thi
article, which covers the science of Acoustics, we shall consider
only the physical aspect of sound, that is, the physical phenomen;
outside ourselves which excite our sense of hearing. We shal
discuss the disturbance which is propagated from the source
to the ear, and which there produces sound, and the modes in
which various sources vibrate and give rise to the disturbance.
Sound is due to Vibrations. — We may easily satisfy ourselves
that, in every instance in which the sensation of sound is excited
the body whence the sound proceeds must have been thrown
by a blow or other means, into a state of agitation or tremor
implying the existence of a vibratory motion, or motion to anc
fro, of the particles of which it consists.
Thus, if a common glass-jar be struck so as to yield an audible
sound, the existence of a motion of this kind may be felt by the
finger lightly applied to the edge of the glass; and, on increasing
the pressure so as to destroy this motion the sound forthwith
ceases. Small pieces of cork put in the jar will be found to
dance about during the continuance of the sound; water or
spirits of wine poured into the glass will, under the same circum-
stances, exhibit a ruffled surface. The experiment is usually
performed, in a more striking manner, with a bell-jar and a
number of small light wooden balls suspended by silk strings
to a fixed frame above the jar, so as to be just in contact with
the widest part of the glass. On drawing a violin bow across
the edge, the pendulums are thrown off to a considerable dis-
tance, and falling back are again repelled, and so on.
It is also in many cases possible to follow with the eye the
motions of the particles of the sounding body, as, for instance,
in the case of a violin string or any string fixed at both ends,
when the string will appear through the persistence of visual
sensation to occupy at once all the positions which it successively
assumes during its vibratory motion.
Sound takes Time to Travel. — If we watch a man breaking stones
by the roadside some distance away, we can see the hammer
fall before we hear the blow. We see the steam issuing from
the whistle of a distant engine long before we hear the sound.
We see lightning before we hear the thunder which spreads out
from the flash, and the more distant the flash the longer the
interval between the two. The well-known rule of a mile for
every five seconds between flash and peal gives a fair estimate
of the distance of the lightning.
Sound needs a Material Medium to Trawl Through. — In order
that the ear may be affected by a sounding body there must
be continuous matter reaching all the way from the body to the
ear. This can be shown by suspending an electric bell in the
receiver of an air-pump, the wires conveying the current passing
through an air-tight cork closing the hole at the top of the
receiver. These wires form a material channel from the bell
to the outside air, but if they are fine the sound which they carry
is hardly appreciable. If while the air within the receiver is at
atmospheric pressure the bell is set ringing continuously, the
sound is very audible. But as the air is withdrawn by the pump
the sound decreases, and when the exhaustion is high the bell
is almost inaudible.
Usually air is the medium through which sound travels, but
it can travel through solids or liquids. Thus in the air-pump
experiment, before exhaustion it travels through the glass of
the receiver and the base plate. We may easily realise its trans-
mission through a solid by putting the ear against a table and
scratching the wood at some distance, and through a liquid by
keeping both ears under water in a bath and tapping the side of
the bath.
Sound is a Disturbance of the Wave Kind. — As sound arises in
general from vibrating bodies, as it takes time to travel, and as
the medium which carries it does not on the whole travel for-
ward, but subsides into its original position when the sound has
passed, we are forced to conclude that the disturbance is of the
wave kind, We can at once gather some idea of the nature of
sound waves in air by considering how they are produced by a bell.
Let AB (fig. i) be a small portion of a bell which vibrates to and
fro from CD to EF and back. As AB moves from CD to EF it
pushes forward the layer of air
in contact with it. That layer C
presses against and pushes forward
the next layer and so on. Thus
a push or a compression of the
air is transmitted onwards in the
direction OX. As AB returns
from EF towards CD the layer of
air next to it follows it as if it 1 '
FIG. i.
were pulled back by AB. Really,
of course, it is pressed into the
space made for it by the rest of the air, and flowing into this space
it is extended. It makes room for the next layer of air to move
back and to be extended and so on, and an extension of the air is
transmitted onwards following the compression which has already
gone out. As AB again moves from CD towards EF another
compression or push is sent out, as it returns from EF towards CD
another extension or pull, and so on. Thus waves are propagated
along OX, each wave consisting of one push and one pull, one wave
emanating from each complete vibration to and fro of the source
AB.
Crova's Disk. — We may obtain an excellent representation of
the motion of the layers of air in a train of sound waves by
means of a device due to Crova and known as " Crova's disk."
A small circle, say 2 or 3 mm. radius, is drawn on a card as in
fig. 2, and round this circle equidistant points, say 8 or 12, are
FIG. 2.
taken. From these points as centres, circles are drawn in succes-
sion, each with radius greater than the last by a fixed amount, say
4 or 5 mm. In the figure the radius of the inner circle is 3 mm.
and the radii of the circles drawn round it are 12, 16, 20, &c.
[f the figure thus drawn is spun round its centre in the right
direction in its own plane waves appear to travel out from the
centre along any radius. If a second card with a narrow slit
n it is held in front of the first, the slit running from the centre
outwards,* the wave motion is still more evident. If the figure
>e photographed as a lantern slide which is mounted so as to
urn round, the wave motion is excellently shown on the screen,
he compressions and extensions being represented by the
crowding in and opening out of the lines.
Another illustration is afforded by a long spiral of wire with coils,
say 2 in. in diameter and J in. apart. It may be hung up by threads
so as to lie horizontally. If one end is sharply pressed in, a com-
)ression can be seen running along the spring.
The Disturbance in Sound Waves is Longitudinal. — The motion
)f a particle of air is, as represented in these illustrations, to
ind fro in the direction of propagation, i.e. the disturbance
SOUND WAVES]
SOUND
439
is " longitudinal." There is no " transverse " disturbance, that
is, there is in air no motion across the line of propagation, for
such motion could only be propagated from one layer to the
next by the " viscous " resistance to relative motion, and would
die away at a very short distance from the source. But trans-
verse disturbances may be propagated as waves in solids. For
instance, if a rope is fixed at one end and held in the hand at the
other end, a transverse jerk by the hand will travel as a trans-
verse wave along the rope. In liquids sound waves are longi-
tudinal as they are in air. But the waves on the surface of
a liquid, which are not of the sound kind, are both longitudinal
and transverse, the compound nature being easily seen in
watching the motion of a floating particle.
Displacement Diagram. — We can represent waves of longitudinal
displacement by a curve, and this enables us to draw very important
conclusions in a very simple way. Let a train of waves be passing
from left to right in the direction ABCD (fig. 3). At every point
N«
FIG. 3.
let a line be drawn perpendicular to AD and proportional to the
displacement of the particle which was at the point before the
disturbance began. Thus let the particle which was at L be at
I, to the right or forwards, at a given instant. Draw LP upward
and some convenient multiple of LI. Let the particle which was
at M originally be at m at the given instant, being displaced to
the left or backwards. Draw MQ downwards, the same multiple
of Mm. Let N be displaced forward to n. Draw NR the same
multiple of Nw and upwards. If this is done for every point we
obtain a continuous curve APBQCRD, which represents the dis-
placement at every point at the given instant, though by a length
at right angles to the actual displacement and on an arbitrary
scale. At the points ABCD there is no displacement, and the
line AD through these points is called the axis. Forward dis-
placement is represented by height above the axis, backward
displacement by depth below it. In ordinary sound waves the dis-
placement is very minute, perhaps of the order io-6 cm., so that
we multiply it perhaps by 100,000 in forming the displacement
curve.
Wave Length and Frequency. — If the waves are continuous and
each of the same shape they form a " train," and the displacement
curve repeats itself. The shortest distance in which this repetition
occurs is called the wave-length. It is usually denoted by X. In
fig. 3, AC=X. If the source makes n vibrations in one second
it is said to have " frequency " n. It sends out n waves in each
second. If each wave travels out from the source with velocity
U the n waves emitted in one second must occupy a length U and
therefore U=nX.
Distribution of Compression and Extension in a Wave. — Let fig. 4
be the displacement diagram of a wave travelling from left to right.
At A the air occupies its original position, while at H it is displaced
towards the right or away from A since HP is above the axis.
Between A and H, then, and about H, it is extended. At J the dis-
placement is forward, but since the curve at Q is parallel to the
axis the displacement is approximately the same for all the points
close to J, and the air is neither extended nor compressed, but
merely displaced bodily a distance represented by JQ. At B
there is no displacement, but at K there is displacement towards
B represented by KR, i.e. there is compression. At L there is also
displacement towards B and again compression. At M, as at J,
there is neither extension nor compression. At N the displacement
is away from C and there is extension. The dotted curve represents
the distribution of compression by height above the axis, and of
extension by depth below it. Or we may take it as representing
the pressure— ^xcess over the normal pressure in compression,
defect from it in extension.
The figure shows that when the curve of displacement slopes
down in the direction of propagation there is compression, and
the pressure is above the normal, and that when it slopes up there
is extension, and the pressure is below the normal.
Distribution of Velocity in a Wave. — If a wave travels on without
alteration the travelling may be represented by pushing on the
displacement curve. Let the wave AQBTC (fig. 5) travel to
A'QB'TC' in a very short time. In that short time the displace-
ment at H decreases from HP to HP' or by PP'. The motion of
the particle is therefore backwards towards A. At J the displace-
ment remains the same, or the particle is not moving. At K it
increases by RR' forwards, or the motion is forwards towards B.
At L the displacement backward decreases, or the motion is forward
FIG. 5.
At M, as at J, there is no change, and at N it is easily seen that
the motion . is backward. The distribution of velocity then is
represented by the dotted curve and is forward when the curve
is above the axis and backward when it is below.
Comparing figs. 4 and 5 it is seen that the velocity is forward in
compression and backward in extension.
The Relations between Displacement, Compression and Velocity. —
The relations shown by figs. 4 and 5 in a general manner may
easily be put into exact form. Let OX (fig. 6) be the direction
FIG. 6.
of travel, and let x be the distance of any point M from a fixed point
O. Let ON=x+dx. Let MP = ;y represent the forward dis-
placement of the particle originally at M, and NQ=y+dy that
of the particle originally at N. The layer of air originally of thick-
ness dx now has thickness dx+dy, since N is displaced forwards
dy more than M. The volume dx, then, has increased to dx+dy
or volume I has increased to I +dy/dx and the increase of volume
i is dy/dx.
Let E be the bulk modulus of elasticity, defined as increase of
pressure _-=- decrease of volume per unit volume where the pressure
increase is so small that this ratio is constant, w the small increase
of pressure, and — (dyldx) the volume decrease, then
E = o>/( — dyldx) or a /E = — dy/dx (i )
This gives the relation between pressure excess and displacement.
To find the relation of the velocity to displacement and pressure
we shall express the fact that the wave travels on carrying all its
conditions with it, so that the displacement now at M will arrive
at N while the wave travels over MN. Let U be the velocity of
the wave and let u be the velocity of the particle originally at N.
Let MN=dx = Ud<. In the time at which the wave takes to
travel over MN the particle displacement at N changes by QR,
and QR=-w<&, so that QR/MN = -M/U. But QR/MN =
ay \ax. Then
u/V=-dyjdx (2)
This gives the velocity of any particle in terms of the displacement.
Equating (i) and (2)
M/U=w/E (3)
which gives the particle velocity in terms of the pressure excess.
Generally, if any condition in the wave is carried forward
unchanged with velocity U, the change of at a given point in
time dt is equal to the change of as we go back along the curve
a distance dx = \Jdt at the beginning of dt.
Then
dx
The Characteristics of Sound Waves Corresponding to Loudness,
Pilch and Quality. — Sounds differ from each other only in the
three respects of loudness, pitch and quality.
The loudness of the sound brought by a train of waves of
given wave-length depends on the extent of the to and fro
excursion of the air particles. This is obvious if we consider
that the greater the Vibration of the source the greater is the
excursion of the air in the issuing waves, and the louder is the
sound heard. Half the total excursion is called the amplitude.
Thus in fig. 4 QJ is the amplitude. Methods of measuring the
amplitude in sound waves in air have been devised and will
be described later. We may say here that the energy or the
intensity of the sound of given wave-length is proportional
to the square of the amplitude.
The pitch of a sound, the note which we assign to it, depends
on the number of waves received by the ear per second. This is
generally equal to the number of waves issuing from the source
per second, and therefore equal to its frequency of vibration.
Experiments, which will be described most conveniently when
440
SOUND
[VELOCITY
we discuss methods of determining the frequencies of sources,
prove conclusively that for a given note the frequency is the
same whatever the source of that note, and that the ratio of the
frequencies of two notes forming a given musical interval is the
same in whatever part of the musical range the two notes are
situated. Here it is sufficient to say that the frequencies of a
note, its major third, its fifth and its octave, are in the ratios
of 4 : s = 6 : 8.
The quality or timbre of sound, i.e. that which differentiates
a note sounded on one instrument from the same note on another
instrument, depends neither on amplitude nor on frequency or
wave-length. We can only conclude that it depends on wave
form, a conclusion fully borne out by investigation. The dis-
placement curve of the waves from a tuning-fork on its resonance
box, or from the human voice sounding oo, are nearly smooth
and symmetrical, as in fig. -ja. That for the air waves from a
violin are probably nearly as in fig. jb.
FIG. 7.
Calculation of the Velocity of Sound Waves in Air. — The velocity
with which waves of longitudinal disturbance travel in air or
in any other fluid can be calculated from the resistance to com-
pression and extension and the density of the fluid. It is con-
venient to give this calculation before proceeding to describe
the experimental determination of the velocity in air, in other
gases and in water, since the calculation serves to some extent
as a guide in conducting and interpreting the observations.
The waves from a source surrounded by a uniform medium at
rest spread out as spheres with the source as centre. If we take
one of these spheres a distance from the source very great as
compared with a single wave-length, and draw a radius to a
point on the sphere, then for some little way round that point
the sphere may be regarded as a plane perpendicular to the
radius or the line of propagation. Every particle in the plane
will have the same displacement and the same velocity, and these
will be perpendicular to the plane and parallel to the line of
propagation. • The waves for some little distance on each side
of the plane will be practically of the same size. In fact, we may
neglect the divergence, and may regard them as " plane waves."
We shall investigate the velocity of such plane waves by a method
which is only a slight modification of a method given by W. J. M.
Rankine (Phil. Trans., 1870, p. 277).
Whatever the form of a wave, we could always force it to travel
on with that form unchanged, and with any velocity we chose,
if we could apply any " external " force we liked to each particle,
in addition to the " internal " force called into play by the com-
pressions or extensions. For instance, if we have a wave with
displacement curve of form ABC (fig. 8), and we require it to travel
A' M
on in time dt to A'B'C', where AA' = \Jdt, the displacement of the
particle originally at M must change from PM to P'M or by PP'.
This change can always be effected if we can apply whatever force
may be needed to produce it.
We shall investigate the external force needed to make a train
of plane waves travel on unchanged in form with velocity U.
We shall regard the external force as applied in the form of a
pressure X per square centimetre parallel to the line of propagation
and varied from point to point as required in order to make the dis-
turbance travel on unchanged in form with the specified velocity U.
In addition there will be the internal force due to the change in
volume, and consequent change in pressure, from point to point.
Suppose that the whole of the medium is moved backwards in
space along the line of propagation so that the undisturbed portions
travel with the velocity U. The disturbance, or the train of waves,
is then fixed in space, though fresh matter continually enters the
disturbed region at one end, undergoes the disturbance, and then
leaves it at the other end.
Let A (fig. 9) be a point fixed in space in the disturbed region,
B a fixed point where the medium is not yet disturbed, the medium
FIG. 9.
moving through A and B from right to left. Since the condition
of the medium between A and B remains constant, even though
the matter is continually changing, the momentum possessed by
the matter between A and B is constant. Therefore the momentum
entering through a square centimetre at B per second is equal to
the momentum leaving through a square centimetre at A. Now
the transfer of momentum across a surface occurs in two ways,
firstly by the carriage of moving matter through the surface, and
secondly by the force acting between the matter on one side of the
surface and the matter on the other side. U cubic centimetres
move in per second at B, and if the density js po the mass moving
in through a square centimetre is po U. But it has velocity U, and
therefore momentum poll2 is carried in. In addition there is a
pressure between the layers of the medium, and if this pressure
in the undisturbed parts of the medium is P, momentum P per
second is being transferred from right to left across each square
centimetre. Hence the matter moving in is receiving on this
account P per second from the matter to the right of it. The total
momentum moving in at B is therefore P+poU2. Now consider the
momentum leaving at A. If the velocity of a particle at A relative
to the undisturbed parts is u from left to right, the velocity of the
matter moving out at A is U— «, and the momentum carried
out by the moving matter is p(U— «)2. But the matter to the
right of A is also receiving momentum from the matter to the left
of it at the rate indicated by the force across A. Let the excess
of pressure due to change of volume be &, so that the total
" internal " pressure is P-fw. There is also the " external "
applied pressure X, and the total momentum flowing out per
second is
X-t-P+a+p(U-«)J.
Equating this to the momentum entering at B and subtracting P
from each
If y is the displacement at A, and if E is the elasticity, substituting
for w and u from (2) and (3) we get
But since the volume dx with density po has become volume dx+dy
with density p
= po.
X-Eg+p0U'(i+g)=poU.,
Then
or X = (E— po\J*)dy/dx. (5)
If then we apply a pressure X given by (5) at every point, and move
the medium with any uniform velocity U, the disturbance remains
fixed in space. Or if we now keep the undisturbed parts of the
medium fixed, the disturbance travels on with velocity U if we
apply the pressure X at every point of the disturbance.
If the velocity U is so chosen that E— poU2=o, then X = o,
or the wave travels on through the action of the internal forces
only, unchanged in form and with velocity
U-V(E/P). (6)
The pressure X is introduced in order to show that a wave can
be propagated unchanged in form. If we omitted it we should
have to assume this, and equation (6) would give us the velocity
of propagation if the assumption were justified. But a priori we
are hardly justified in assuming that waves can be propagated at
all, and certainly not justified in assuming that they go on unchanged
by the action of the internal forces alone. If, however, we put
on external forces of the required type X it is obvious that any
wave can be propagated with any velocity, and our investigation
shows that when U has the value in (6) then and only then X is
zero everywhere, and the wave will be propagated with that velocity
when once set going.
It may be noted that the elasticity E is only constant for small
volume changes or for small values of dy/dx.
Since by definition E= —v(dp/dv) = p(dp/dp) equation (6) becomes
The value U = V(E/p) was first virtually obtained by Newton
(Principia, bk. ii., § 8, props. 48-49). He supposed that in air
Boyle's law holds in the extensions and compressions, or that
p-kp, whence dp/dp = k=p/p. His value of the velocity in
air is therefore
U = V (pip) (Newton's formula).
At the standard pressure of 76 cm. of mercury or 1,014,000
dynes / sq. cm., the density of dry air at o° C. being taken as
0-001293, we 8et f°r the velocity in dry air at o° C.
U0=28,ooocm.sec. (about 920 ft./sec.)
VELOCITY]
SOUND
44
approximately. Newton found 979 ft. /sec. But, as we shall see,
all the determinations give a value of Uo in the neighbourhood of
33,000 cm. /sec., or about 1080 ft./sec. This discrepancy was not ex-
plained till 1816, when Laplace (Ann.dechimie, 1816, vol. iii.) pointed
out that the compressions and extensions in sound waves in air
alternate so rapidly that there is no time for the temperature
inequalities produced by them to spread. That is to say, instead
of using Boyle's law, which supposes that the pressure changes so
exceedingly slowly that conduction keeps the temperature constant,
we must use the adiabatic relation p = kpy, whence
and U = V(7£/p) [Laplace's formula]. (8)
If we take y = I -4 we obtain approximately for the velocity in
dry air at o° C.
Uo = 33.I5° cm./sec.,
which is closely in accordance with observation. Indeed Sir
G. G. Stokes (Math, and Phys. Papers, iii. 142) showed that a very
small departure from the adiabatic condition would lead to a
stifling of the sound quite out of accord with observation.
If we put p = kp(i+at) in (8) we get the velocity in a gas at
At o° C. we have Uo= V (vk~), and hence
= Uo(i +0-00184*) (for small values of t). (9)
The velocity then should be independent of the barometric pressure,
a result confirmed by observation.
For two different gases with the same value of y, but with densi-
ties at the same pressure and temperature respectively pi and p2,
we should have
U,/U, = VWpi), (10)
another result confirmed by observation.
Alteration of Form of the Waves when Pressure Changes are Con-
siderable. — When the value of dy/dx is not very small E is no longer
constant, but is rather greater in compression and rather less in
extension than yP. This can be seen by considering that the
relation between p and p is given by a curve and not by a straight
line. The consequence is that the compression travels rather
faster, and the extension rather slower, than at the speed found
above.
We may get some idea of the effect by supposing that for a short
time the change in form is negligible. In the momentum equation
(4) we may now omit X and it becomes
Let us seek a more exact value for o>. If when P changes to P+u
volume V changes to V— v then (P+w)(V — »)* = PV*,
t. n / » i 7(7+1) P2 \ Pi)/ , 7+It>\
whence u = P^-) yjj =">'VV1"1 — 2~W -
We have U-M = U(i-w/U)=U(i-»/V), since «/U= -dy/dx=v[V.
Also since p(V— f)=poV, or p = po/(l— r/V), then p(U — «)2 =
Vp<,U2(i-f/V).
Substituting in the momentum equation, we obtain
whence
U2=^
T+i u
If U = V(7P/po) is the velocity for small disturbances, we may
put Uo for U in the small term on the right, and we have
T + i «\
— irJ
or U = U0+4-(T+i)«. (Ji)
This investigation is obviously not exact, for it assumes that the
form is unchanged, i.e. that the momentum issuing from A (fig. 9)
is equal to that entering at B, an assumption no longer tenable
when the form changes. But for very small times the assumption
may perhaps be made, and the result at least shows the way in which
the velocity is affected by the addition of a small term depending
on and changing sign with u. It implies that the different parts
of a wave move on at different rates, so that its form must change.
As we obtained the result on the supposition of unchanged form,
we can of course only apply it for such short lengths and such short
times that the part dealt with does not appreciably alter. We see
at once that, where M=O, the velocity has its " normal " value,
while where u is positive the velocity is in excess, and where u is
negative the velocity is in defect of the normal value. If, then,
a. (fig. 10) represents the displacement curve of a train of waves,
b will represent the pressure excess and particle velocity, and from
(n) we see that while the nodal conditions of 6, with w = o and
« = o, travel with velocity V(E/p), the crests exceed that velocity
by 4(7 + 1)", and the hollows fall short of it by $(y+i)u,
with the result that the fronts of the pressure waves become
steeper and steeper, and the train b changes into something
like c. If the steepness gets very great our investigation ceases
to apply, and neither experiment nor theory has yet shown what
happens. Probably there is a breakdown of the wave somewhat
like the breaking of a water-wave when the crest gains on the next
trough. In ordinary sound-waves the effect of the particle velocity
in affecting the velocity of transmission must be very small.
G displacement
find
velocity
FIG. 10.
Experiments, referred to plater, have been made to find the
amplitude of swing of the air particles in organ pipes. Thus
Mach found an amplitude 0-2 cm. when the issuing waves were
250 cm. long. The amplitude in the pipe was certainly much
greater than in the issuing waves. Let us take the latter as o-i mm.
in the waves — a very extreme value. The maximum particle
velocity is 2irna (where n is the frequency and a the amplitude),
or 2iraU/X. This gives maximum u = about 8 cm./sec., which
would not seriously change the form of the wave in a few wave-
lengths. Meanwhile the waves are spreading out and the value
of u is falling in inverse proportion to the distance from the source,
so that very soon its effect must become negligible.
In loud sounds, such as a peal of thunder from a near flash, or
the report of a gun, the effect may be considerable, and the rumble
of the thunder and the prolonged boom of the gun may perhaps
be in part due to the breakdown of the wave when the crest of
maximum pressure has moved up to the front, though it is probably
due in part also to echo from the surfaces of heterogeneous masses
of air. But there is no doubt that with very loud explosive sounds
the normal velocity is quite considerably exceeded. Thus Regnault
in his classical experiments (described below) found that the velocity
of the report of a pistol carried through a pipe diminished with the
intensity, and his results have been confirmed by J. Violle and T.
Vautier (see below). W. W. Jacques (Phil. Mag., 1879, 7, p. 219)
investigated the transmission of a report from a cannon in different
directions; he found that it rose to a maximum of 1267 ft./sec. at 70,
to 90 ft. in the rear and then fell off.
A very curious observation is recorded by the Rev. G. Fisher
in an appendix to Captain Parry's Journal of a Second Voyage to
the Arctic Regions. In describing experiments on the velocity of
sound he states that " on one day and one day only, February 9,
1822, the officer's word of command ' fire ' was several times heard
distinctly both by Captain Parry and myself about one beat of the
chronometer [nearly half a second] after the report of the gun."
This is hardly to be explained by equation (i i), for at the very front
of the disturbance «=o and the velocity should be normal.
The Energy in a Wave Train. — The energy in a train of waves
carried forward with the waves is partly strain or potential energy
due to change of volume of the air, partly kinetic energy due to the
motion of the air as the waves pass. We shall show that if we
sum these up for a whole wave the potential energy is equal to
the kinetic energy.
The kinetic energy per cubic centimetre is ipM2, where p is the
density and u is the velocity of disturbance due to the passage of
the wave. If V is the undisturbed volume of a small portion of
the air at the undisturbed pressure P, and if it becomes V— v
when the pressure increases to P+<3, the average pressure during
the change may be taken as P+JS, since the pressure excess for
a small change is proportional to the change. Hence the work
done on the air is (P+J = o, since on the whole
the compression equals the extension. We have then only to con-
sider the term juf/V.
But n /V =«/U from equation (2) «
and 3 =E«/U from equation (3)
Then JSu/V = JEtt2/U2 = ipu2 from equation (6)
Then in the whole wave the potential energy equals the kinetic
energy and the total energy in a complete wave in a column i sq. cm.
cross-section is W
=J * pu'dx.
442
SOUND
[VELOCITY
We may find here the value of this when we have a train of waves
in which the displacement is represented by a sine curve of amplitude
2ir
a, viz. y = a sin -^-(x — U<). For a discussion of this type of wave,
see below.
We have
and
The energy per cubic centimetre on the average is
(12)
(13)
and the energy passing per second through I sq. cm. perpendicular
to the line of propagation is
apiHUWA2 (14)
The Pressure of Sound Waves. — Sound waves, like light waves,
exercise a small pressure against any surface upon which they im-
pinge. The existence of this pressure has been demonstrated
experimentally by W. Altberg (Ann. der Physik, 1903, II, p. 405).
A small circular disk at one end of a torsion arm formed part of
a solid wall, but was free to move through a hole in the wall slightly
larger than the disk. When intense sound waves impinged on the
wall, the disk moved back through the hole, and by an amount showing
a pressure of the order given by the following investigation : —
Suppose that a train of waves is incident normally on the surface
S (fig. u), and that they are absorbed there without reflection.
Let ABCD be a column of air
i sq. cm. cross-section. The
pressure on CD is equal to the
momentum which it receives per
second. On the whole the air
S within ABCD neither gains nor
loses momentum, so that on the
whole it receives as much
through AB as it gives up to CD.
If P is the undisturbed pressure
and P+u the pressure at AB,
the momentum entering through AB per second IsJ'^P+ia+pu^dt.
But J0 Pdt = P is the normal pressure, and as we only wish to find
the excess we may leave this out of account.
The excess pressure on CD is therefore f*(£> + pu')dt. But the
values of £>+pu? which occur successively during the second
at AB exist simultaneously at the beginning of the second over
the distance U behind AB. Or if the conditions along this distance
U could be maintained constant, and we could travel back along
it uniformly in one second, we should meet all the conditions actually
arriving at AB and at the same intervals. If then d{ is an element
of the path, putting dt=d£/U, we have the average excess of
pressure
P =
Here d£ is an actual length in the disturbance. We have 5 and «
expressed in terms of the original length dx and the displacement
dy so that we must put d£ = dx+dy = (i+dyldx)dx, and
FIG. II.
We have already found that if V changes to V—v
dy
since »/V= —dy/dx.
We also have pu? = pyU'i/(l+dy/dx). Substituting these values
and neglecting powers of dy/dx above the second we get
But l -r-dx = o since the sum of the displacements = o. Then
putting (dy/dx)1 = («/U)2, we have
= Jfa + i) average energy per cubic centimetre, (15)
a result first published by Lord Rayleigh (Phil. Mag., 1905, 10,
P- 364)-
If the train of waves is reflected, the value of p at AB will be the
sum of the values for the two trains, and will, on the average, be
doubled. The pressure on CD will therefore be doubled. But
the energy will also be doubled, so that (15) still gives the average
excess of pressure.
Experimental Determinations of the Velocity of Sound.
An obvious method of determining the velocity of sound
in air consists in starting some sound, say by firing a gun, and
stationing an observer at some measured distance from the
gun. The observer measures by a clock or chronometer the
time elapsing between the receipt of the flash, which passes
practically instantaneously, and the receipt of the report. The
distance divided by the time gives the velocity of the sound.
The velocity thus obtained will be affected by the wind. For
instance, William Derham (Phil. Trans., 1708) made a series
of observations, noting the time taken by the report of a cannon
fired on Blackheath to travel across the Thames to Upminster
Church in Essex, 12^ m. away. He found that the time varied
between 55^ seconds when the wind was blowing most strongly
with the sound, to 63 seconds when i.t was most strongly against
the sound. The value for still air he estimated at 1142 ft. per
second. He made no correction for temperature or humidity.
But when the wind is steady its effect may be eliminated by
" reciprocal " observations, that is, by observations of the time
of passage of sound in each direction over the measured distance.
Let D be the distance, U the velocity of sound in still air, and
w the velocity of the wind, supposed for simplicity to blow directly
from one station to the other. Let T: and Tz be the observed times
of passage in the two directions. We have U+w=D/Ti and
U — w = D/Tj. Adding and dividing by 2
If TI and Tj are nearly equal, and if T = 3 (Ti +T2) , this is very
nearly U = D/T.
The reciprocal method was adopted in 1738 by a commission
of the French Academy (Mfmoires de I'acadtmie des sciences,
(1738). Cannons were fired at half-hour intervals, alternately
at Montmartre and Montlhery, 17 or 18 m. apart. There were
also two intermediate stations at which observations were
made. The times were measured by pendulum clocks. The result
obtained at a temperature about 6° C. was, when converted to
metres, U = 337 metres/second.
The theoretical investigation given above shows that if U
is the velocity in air at /° C. then the velocity U0 at o° C. in the
same air is independent of the barometric pressure and that
U0=U/(i+o-ooi840, whence U0 = 332 met./sec.
In 1822 a commission of the Bureau des Longitudes made
a series of experiments between Montlh6ry and Villejuif, n m.
apart. Cannons were fired at the two stations at intervals
of five minutes. Chronometers were used for timing, and the
result at 15-9° C. was 11 = 340-9 met./sec., whence Uo=33o-6
met./sec. (F. J. D. Arago, Connaissance des temps, 1825).
When the measurement of a time interval depends on an
observer, his " personal equation " comes in to affect the
estimation of the quantity. This is the interval between the
arrival of an event and his perception that it has arrived, or
it may be the interval between arrival and his record of the
arrival. This personal equation is different for different observers.
It may differ even by a considerable fraction of a second.
It is different, too, for different senses with the same observer,
and different even for the same sense when the external stimuli
differ in intensity. When the interval between a flash and a
report is measured, the personal equations for the two arrivals
are, in all probability, different, that for the flash being most
likely less than that for the sound. In a long series of experi-
ments carried out by V. Regnault in the years 1862 to 1866 on
the velocity of sound in open air, in air in pipes and in various
other gases in pipes, he sought to eliminate personal equation
by dispensing with the human element in the observations,
using electric receivers as observers. A short account of these
experiments is given in Phil. Mag., 1868, 35, p. 161, and the
full account, which serves as an excellent example of the extra-
ordinary care and ingenuity of Regnault's work, is given in the
Memoir es de I'acadtmie des sciences, 1868, xxxvii. On page
459 of the Memoire will be found a list of previous careful
experiments on the velocity of sound.
In the open-air experiments the receiver consisted of a large
REFLECTION]
SOUND
443
cone having a thin india-rubber membrane stretched over its
narrow end. A small metal disk was attached to the centre
of the membrane and connected to earth by a fine wire. A metal
contact-piece adjustable by a screw could be made to just touch
a point at the centre of the disk. When contact was made it
completed an electric circuit which passed to a recording station,
and there, by means of an electro-magnet, actuated a style
writing a record on a band of travelling smoked paper. On
the same band a tuning-fork electrically maintained and a
seconds clock actuating another style wrote parallel records.
The circuit was continued to the gun which served as a source,
and stretched across its muzzle. When the gun was fired,
the circuit was broken, and the break was recorded on the paper.
The circuit was at once remade. When the wave travelled
to the receiver it pushed back the disk from the contact-piece,
and this break, too, was recorded. The time between the breaks
could be measured in seconds by the clock signals, and in
fractions of a second by the tuning-fork record. The receiving
apparatus had what we may term a personal equation, for the
break of contact could only take place when the membrane
travelled some finite distance, exceedingly small no doubt,
from the contact-piece. But the apparatus was used in such a
way that this could be neglected. In some experiments in
which contact was made instead of broken, Regnault determined
the personal equation of the apparatus.
To eliminate wind as far as possible reciprocal firing was
adopted, the interval between the two firings being only a few
seconds. The temperature of the air traversed and its humidity
were observed, and the result was finally corrected to the velocity
in dry air at o° C. by means of equation (10).
Regnault used two different distances, viz. 1280 metres and 2445
metres, obtaining from the first U0 = 33i-37 met./sec. ; but the
number of experiments over the longer distance was greater, and he
appears to have put more confidence in the result from them, viz.
Uo = 33°-7i met./sec.
In the Phil. Trans., 1872, 162, p. I, is given an interesting deter-
mination made by E. J. Stone at the Cape of Good Hope. In this
experiment the personal equations of the observers were deter-
mined and allowed for.
Velocity of Sound in Air and other Gases in Pipes. — In the
memoir cited above Regnault gives an account of determinations
of the velocity in air in pipes of great length and of diameters
ranging from 0-108 metres to i-i metres. He used various
sources and the method of electric registration. He found
that in all cases the velocity decreased with a diameter. The
sound travelled to and fro in the pipes several times before the
signals died away, and he found that the velocity decreased
with the intensity, tending to a limit for very feeble sounds,
the limit being the same whatever the source. This limit for
a diameter i-i m. was U0=33O-6 met./sec., while for a diameter
0-108 it was 110=324-25 met./sec.
Regnault also set up a shorter length of pipes of diameter
0-108 m. in a court at the College de France, and with this
length he could use dry air, vary the pressure, and fill with other
gases. He found that within wide limits the velocity was inde-
pendent of the pressure, thus confirming the theory. Com-
paring the velocities of sound Ui and U2 in two different gases
with densities pi and p2 at the same temperature and pressure,
and with ratios of specific heats 7,, 72, theory gives
Ui/U2 = V (7Wwi !•
This formula was very nearly confirmed for hydrogen, carbon
dioxide and nitrous oxide.
J. Violle and T. Vautier (Ann. Mm. phys., 1890, vol. 19)
made observations with a tube 0-7 m. in diameter, and,
using Regnault's apparatus, found that the velocity could be
represented by
33i'3(i+CVP),
where P is the mean excess of pressure above the normal.
According to von Helmholtz and Kirchhoff the velocity in a
tube should be less than that in free air by a quantity depending
on the diameter of the tube, the frequency of the note used,
and the viscosity of the gas (Rayleigh, Sound, vol. ii. §§ 347~8)-
Correcting the velocity obtained in the 0-7 m. tube by Kirch-
hofi's formula, Violle and Vautier found for the velocity in open
air at o° C.
Uo=33i-io met./sec.
with a probable error estimated at ± o- 10 metre.
It is obvious from the various experiments that the velocity
of sound in dry air at o° C. is not yet known with very great
accuracy. At present we cannot assign a more exact value
than
U0 = 331 metres per second.
Violle and Vautier made some later experiments on the
propagation of musical sounds in a tunnel 3 metres in diameter
(Ann. Mm. phys., 1905, vol. 5). They found that the velocity
of propagation of different musical sounds was the same.
Some curious effects were observed in the formation of har-
monics in the rear of the primary tone used. These have yet
to find an explanation.
Velocity of Sound in Water. — The velocity in water was
measured by J. D. Colladon and J. K. F. Sturm (Ann. Mm.
phys., 1827 (2), 36, p. 236) in the water of Lake Geneva. A bell
under water was struck, and at the same instant some gunpowder
was flashed in air above the bell. At a station more than
13 kilometres away a sort of big ear-trumpet, closed by a mem-
brane, was placed with the membrane under water, the tube
rising above the surface. An observer with his ear to the tube
noted the interval between the arrival of flash and sound. The
velocity deduced at 8-1° C. was 11 = 1435 met./sec., agreeing
very closely with the value calculated from the formula
2 = E/p.
Experiments on the velocity of sound in iron have been made
on lengths of iron piping by J. B. Biot, and on telegraph wires
by Wertheim and Brequet. The experiments were not satis-
factory, and it is sufficient to say that the results accorded
roughly with the value given by theory.
Reflection of Sound.
When a wave of sound meets a surface separating two media
it is in part reflected, travelling back from the surface into the
first medium again with the velocity with which it approached.
Echo is a familiar example of this. The laws of reflection of
sound are identical with those of the reflection of light, viz. (i)
the planes of incidence and reflection are coincident, and (2)
the angles of incidence and reflection are equal. Experiments
may be made with plane and curved mirrors to verify these
laws, but it is necessary to use short waves, in order to diminish
diffraction effects. For instance, a ticking watch may be put
at the focus of a large concave metallic mirror, which sends a
parallel " beam " of sound to a second concave mirror facing
the first. If an ear-trumpet is placed at the focus of the second
mirror the ticking may be heard easily, though it is quite inaud-
ible by direct waves. Or it may be revealed by placing a
sensitive flame of the kind described below with its nozzle at
the focus. The flame jumps down at every tick.
Examples of reflection of sound in buildings are only too
frequent. In large halls the words of a speaker are echoed
or reflected from flat walls or roof or floor; and these reflected
sounds follow the direct sounds at such an interval that syllables
and words overlap, to the confusion of the speech and the
annoyance of the audience.
Some curious examples of echo are given in Herschel's article
on " Sound " in the Encyclopaedia Metropolitana, but it appears
that he is in error in one case. He states that in the whispering
gallery in St Paul's, London, " the faintest sound is faithfully
conveyed from one side to the other of the dome but is not heard
at any intermediate point." In some domes, for instance in
a dome at the university of Birmingham, a sound from one end
of a diameter is heard very much more loudly quite close to
the other end of the diameter than elsewhere, but in St Paul's
Lord Rayleigh found that " the abnormal loudness with which
a whisper is heard is not confined to the position diametrically
opposite to that occupied by the whisperer, and therefore, it
would appear, does not depend materially upon the symmetry
444
SOUND
[REFRACTION
of the dome. The whisper seems to creep round the gallery
horizontally, not necessarily along the shorter arc, but rather
along that arc towards which the whisperer faces. This is a
consequence of the very unequal audibility of a whisper in front
and behind the speaker, a phenomenon which may easily be
observed in the open air " (Sound, ii. § 287).
Let fig. 12 represent a horizontal section of the dome through
the source P. Let OPA be the radius
through P. Let PQ represent a ray
of sound making the angle 6 with the
tangent at A. Let ON( = OP cos 6)
be the perpendicular on PQ. Then
the reflected ray OR and the ray
reflected at R, and so on, will all
touch the circle drawn with ON as
radius. A ray making an angle less
than 8 with the tangent will, with
its reflections, touch a larger circle.
Hence all rays between ±0 will be
confined in the space between the
outer dome and a circle of radius
OP cos 0, and the weakening of in-
tensity will be chiefly due to vertical
spreading.
Rayleigh points out that this clinging of the sound to the
surface of a concave wall does not depend on the exactness of the
spherical form. He suggests that the propagation of earthquake
disturbances is probably affected by the curvature of the surface
of the globe, which may act like a whispering gallery.
In some cases of echo, when the original sound is a compound
musical note, the octave of the fundamental tone is reflected
much more strongly than that tone itself. This is explained
by Rayleigh (Sound, ii. § 296) as a consequence of the irregu-
larities of the reflecting surface. The irregularities send back a
scattered reflection of the different incident trains, and this
scattered reflection becomes more copious the shorter the wave-
length. Hence the octave, though comparatively feeble in the
incident train, may predominate in the scattered reflection
constituting the echo.
Refraction of Sound.
When a wave of sound travelling through one medium meets
a second medium of a different kind, the vibrations of its own
particles are communicated to the particles of the new medium,
so that a wave is excited in the latter, and is propagated through
it with a velocity dependent on the density and elasticity of the
second medium, and therefore differing in general from the
previous velocity. The direction, too, in which the new wave
travels is different from the previous one. This change of
direction is termed refraction, and takes place, no doubt, accord-
ing to the same laws as does the refraction of light, viz. (i) The
new direction or refracted ray lies always in the plane of incidence,
or plane which contains the incident ray (i.e. the direction of
the wave in the first medium), and the normal to the surface
separating the two media, at the point in which the incident
ray meets it; (2) The sine of the angle between the normal and
the incident ray bears to the sine of the angle between the normal
and the refracted ray a ratio which is constant for the same
pair of media. As with light the ratio involved in the second
law is always equal to the ratio of the velocity of the wave in
the first medium to the velocity in the second; in other words,
the sines of the angles in question are directly proportional to
the velocities.
Hence sound rays, in passing from one medium into another,
are bent in towards the normal, or the reverse, according as the
velocity of propagation in the former exceeds
or falls short of that in the latter. Thus, for
instance, sound is refracted towards the per-
pendicular when passing into air from water,
or into carbonic acid gas from air; the
converse is the case when the passage takes
place the opposite way.
It further follows, as in the analogous case
of light, that there is a certain angle termed
ff
FIG. 13.
the critical angle, whose sine is found by dividing the less by
the greater velocity, such that all rays of sound meeting the
surface separating two different bodies will not pass onward,
but suffer total reflection back into the first body, if the
velocity in that body is less than that in the other body, and
if the angle of incidence exceeds the limiting angle.
The velocities in air and water being respectively 1090 and
4700 ft. the limiting angle for these media may be easily shown
to be slightly above 155°. Hence, rays of sound proceeding
from a distant source, and therefore nearly parallel to each other,
and to PO (fig. 13), the angle POM being greater than 155°, will
not pass into the water at all, but suffer total reflection. Under
such circumstances, the report of a gun, however powerful,
should be inaudible by an ear placed in the water.
Acoustic Lenses. — As light is concentrated into a focus by a
convex glass lens (for which the velocity of light is less than for
the air), so sound ought to be made to converge by passing
through a convex lens formed of carbonic acid gas. On the
other hand, to produce convergence with water or hydrogen gas,
in both which the velocity of sound exceeds its rate in air, the
lens ought to be concave. These results have been confirmed
experimentally by K. F. J. Sondhauss (Pogg. Ann., 1852, 85.
p. 378), who used a collodion lens filled with carbonic acid. He
found its focal length and hence the refractive index of the
gas, C. Hajech (Ann. chim. phys., 1858, (iii). vol. 54) also
measured the refractive indices of various gases, using a prism
containing the gas to be experimented on, and he found that the
deviation by the prism agreed very closely with the theoretical
values of sound in the gas and in air.
Osborne Reynolds (Proc. Roy. Soc., 1874, 22, p. 531) first pointed
out that refraction would result from a variation in the tempera-
ture of the air at different heights. The velocity
of sound in air is independent of the pressure, j
but varies with the temperature, its value at t° C.
being as we have seen
U-Ui(i+ioO.
where U0is the velocity at o° C., and a is the coefficient of
expansion -00365. Now if the temperature is higher overhead
than at the surface, the velocity overhead is greater. If a wave
front is in a given position, as a i (fig. 14), at a given instant
a 6
FIG. 14.
the upper part, moving faster, gains on the lower, and the front
tends to swing round as shown by the successive positions in
a 2, 3 and 4; that is, the sound tends to come down to the
surface. This is well illustrated by the remarkable horizontal
carriage of sound on a still clear frosty morning, when the
surface layers of air are decidedly colder than those above.
At sunset, too, after a warm day, if the air is still, the cooling
of the earth by radiation cools the lower layers, and sound
carries excellently over a level surface. But usually the lower
layers are warmer than the upper layers, and the velocity below
is greater than the velocity above. Consequently a wave front
such as b i tends to turn upwards, as shown in the successive
positions b 2, 3 and 4. Sound is then not so well heard along
the level, but may still reach an elevated observer. On a hot
summer's day the temperature of the surface layers may be
much higher than that of the higher layers, and the effect on
the horizontal carriage of sound may be very marked.
It is well known that sound travels far better with the wind
than against it. Stokes showed that this effect is one of
refraction, due to variation of velocity of the air Ketractloa
from the surface upwards (Brit. Assoc. Rep., 1857, P- by wind."
22). It is, of course, a matter of common observation
that the wind increases in velocity from the surface upwards.
An excellent illustration of this increase was pointed out by
F. Osier in the shape of old clouds; their upper portions always
appear dragged forward and they lean over, as it were, in the
DIFFRACTION]
SOUND
445
direction in which the wind is going. The same kind of thing
happens with sound-wave fronts when travelling with the
wind.
The velocity of any part of a wave front relative to the ground
will be the normal velocity of sound + the velocity of the wind
at that point. Since the velocity increases as we go upwards
the front tends to swing round and travel downwards, as shown
in the successive positions a i, 2, 3 and 4, in fig. 14, where we
must suppose the wind to be blowing from left to right. But
if the wind is against the sound the velocity of a point of the
wave front is the normal velocity — the wind velocity at the
point, and so decreases as we rise. Then the front tends to
swing round and travel upwards as shown in the successive
positions 6 I, 2, 3, and 4, in fig. 14, where the wind is travelling
from right to left. In the first case the waves are more likely
to reach and be perceived by an observer level with the source,
while in the second case they may go over his head and not be
heard at all.
Diffraction of Sound Waves.
Many of the well-known phenomena of optical diffraction
may be imitated with sound waves, especially if the waves
be short. Lord Rayleigh (Scientific Papers, iii. 24) has given
various examples, and we refer the reader to his account.
We shall only consider one interesting case of sound diffraction
which may be easily observed. When we are walking past a
fence formed by equally-spaced vertical rails or overlapping
boards, we may often note that each footstep is followed by a
musical ring. A sharp clap of the hands may also produce the
effect. A short impulsive wave travels towards the fence, and
each rail as it is reached by the wave becomes the centre of a
new secondary wave sent out all round, or at any rate on the
front side of the fence.
S'
FIG. 15.
Let S (fig. 15) be the source very nearly in the line of the rails
ABCDEF. At the instant that the original wave reaches F the
wave from E has travelled to a circle of radius very nearly equal
to EF — not quite, as 5 is not quite in the plane of the rails. The
wave from D has travelled to a circle of radius nearly equal to DF,
that from C to a circle of radius nearly CF, and so on. As these
" secondary waves " return to S their distance apart is nearly equal
to twice the distance between the rails, and the observer then hears
a note of wave-length nearly 2EF. But if an observer is stationed
at S' the waves will be about half as far apart and will reach him
with nearly twice the frequency, so that he hears a note about an
octave higher. As he travels further round the frequency increases
still more. The railings in fact do for sound what a diffraction
grating does for light.
Frequency and Pitch.
Sounds may be divided into noises and musical notes. A mere
noise is an irregular disturbance. If we study the source produc-
ing it we find that there is no regularity of vibration. A musical
note always arises from a source which has some regularity
of vibration, and which sends equally-spaced waves into the
air. A given note has always the same frequency, that is to say,
the hearer receives the same number of waves per second what-
ever the source by which the note is produced. Various instru-
ments have been devised which produce any desired note, and
which are provided with methods of counting the frequency
of vibration. The results obtained fully confirm the general
law that " pitch," or the position of the note in the musical scale,
depends solely on its frequency. We shall now describe some
of the methods of determining frequency.
Savart's toothed wheel apparatus, named after Felix Savart
(1791-1841), a French physicist and surgeon, consists of a brass
wheel, whose edge is divided into a number of equal projecting
teeth distributed uniformly over the circumference, and which is
capable of rapid rotation about an axis perpendicular to its plane
and passing through its centre, by means of a series of multiplying
wheels, the last of which is turned round by the hand. The toothed
wheel being set in motion, the edge of a card or of a funnel-shaped
piece of common notepaper is held against the teeth, when a note
will be heard arising from the rapidly succeeding displacements
of the air in its vicinity. The pitch of this note will rise as the rate
of rotation increases, .and becomes steady when that rotation is
maintained uniform. It may thus be brought into unison with
any sound of which it may be required to determine the correspond-
ing number of vibrations per second, as for instance the note As,
three octaves higher than the A which is indicated musically by
a small circle placed between the second and third lines of the
G clef, which A is the note of the tuning-fork usually employed for
regulating concert-pitch. As may be given by a piano. Now,
suppose that the note produced with Savart's apparatus is in unison
with As, when the experimenter turns round the first wheel at the
rate of 60 turns per minute or one per second, and that the cir-
cumferences of the various multiplying wheels are such that the
rate of revolution of the toothed wheel is thereby increased 44 times,
then the latter wheel will perform 44 revolutions in a second,
and hence, if the number of its teeth be 80, the number of taps
imparted to the card every second will amount to 4^X80 or 3520.
This, therefore, is the number of vibrations corresponding to the note
A». If we divide this by 23 or 8, we obtain 440 as the number of
vibrations answering to the note A. If, for the single toothed
wheel, be substituted a set of four with a common axis, in which
the teeth are in the ratios 4: 5: 6: 8, and if the card be rapidly
passed along their edges, we shall hear distinctly produced the
fundamental chord C, E, G, Ci and shall thus satisfy ourselves
that the intervals C, E; C, G and C, Ci are |, | and 2 respectively.
Neither this instrument nor the next to be described is now used
for exact work; they merely serve as illustrations of the law of
pitch.
The siren of L. F. W. A. Seebeck (1805-1849) is the simplest form
of apparatus thus designated, and consists of a large circular disk
mounted on a central axis, about which it may be made _ *«*•
to revolve with moderate rapidity. This disk is per- si^,n
forated with small round holes arranged in circles
about the centre of the disk. In the first series of circles, reckoning
from the centre the openings are so made as to divide the respective
circumferences, on which they are found, in aliquot parts bearing
to each other the ratios of the numbers 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10, 12, 16, 20,
24, 32, 40, 48, 64. The second series consists of circles each of
which is formed of two sets of perforations, in the first circle arranged
as 4:5, in the next as 3:4, then as 2:3, 3:5, 4:7. In the outer
series is a circle divided by perforations into four sets, the numbers
of aliquot parts being as 3 : 4 : 5 : 6, followed by others which we
need not further refer to.
The disk being started, then by means of a tube held at one end
between the lips, and applied near to the disk at the other, or more
easily with a common bellows, a blast of air is made to fall on the
part of the disk which contains any one of the above circles. The
current being alternately transmitted and shut off, as a hole passes on
and off the aperture of the tube or bellows, causes a vibratory motion
of the air, whose frequency depends on the number of times per second
that a perforation passes the mouth of the tube. Hence the note
produced with any given circle of holes rises in pitch as the disk
revolves more rapidly; and if, the revolution of the disk being kept
as steady as possible, the tube be passed rapidly across the circles
of the first series, a series of notes is heard, which, if the lowest
be denoted by C, form the sequence C, Ci, EI, Gi, Cj, &c. In like
manner, the first circle in which we have two sets of holes dividing
the circumference, the one into say 8 parts, and the other into 10,
or in ratio 4: 5, the note produced is a compound one, such as would
be obtained by striking on the piano two notes separated by the
interval of a major third (|). Similar results are obtainable by
means of the remaining perforations.
A still simpler form of siren may be constituted with a good
spinning-top, a perforated card disk, and a tube for blowing with.
The siren of C. Cagniard de la Tour is founded on the same principle
as the preceding. It consists of a cylindrical chest of brass, the
base of which is pierced at its centre with an opening
in which is fixed a brass tube projecting outwards, and *J Tn. "*. .
intended for supplying the cavity of the cylinder with *g° *
compressed air or other gas, or even liquid. The top
of the cylinder is formed of a plate perforated near its edge
by holes distributed uniformly in a circle concentric with the
plate, and which are cut obliquely through the thickness of the
plate. Immediately above this fixed plate, and almost in contact
with it, is another of the same dimensions, and furnished with the
same number, n, of openings similarly placed, but passing obliquely
through in an opposite direction from those in the fixed plate, the
one set being inclined to the left, the other to the right.
This second plate is capable of rotation about an axis per-
pendicular to its plane and passing through its centre. Now, let
the movable plate be at any time in a position such that its holes
are immediately above those in the fixed plate, and let the bellows
by which air is forced into the cylinder (air, for simplicity, being
SOUND
[FREQUENCY AND PITCH
supposed to be the fluid employed) be put in action; then the air
in its passage will strike the side of each opening in the movable
plate in an oblique direction (as shown in
fig. 16), and will therefore urge the latter
to rotation round its centre. After I /nth
of a revolution, the two sets of perforations
will again coincide, the lateral impulse of
the air repeated, and hence the rapidity
. , r . , 'i-i • >ii
of rotation increased. This will go on
continually as long as air is supplied to the cylinder, and the
velocity of rotation of the upper plate will be accelerated up to a
certain maximum, at which it may be maintained by keeping the
force of the current constant.
Now, it is evident that each coincidence of the perforations in
the two plates is followed by a non-coincidence, during which the
air-current is shut off, and that consequently, during each revolution
of the upper plate, there occur n alternate passages and interceptions
of the current. Hence arises the same number /of successive im-
pulses of the external air immediately in contact with the movable
plate, which is thus thrown into a state of vibration at the rate of
n for every revolution of the plate. The result is a note whose
pitch rises as the velocity of rotation increases, and becomes steady
when that velocity reaches its constant value. If, then, we can
determine the number m of revolutions performed by the plate
in every second, we shall at once have the number of vibrations
per second corresponding to the audijple note by multiplying m by n.
For this purpose the axis is furnished at its upper part with a
screw working into a toothed wheel, and driving it round, during
each revolution of the plate, through a space equal to the interval
between two teeth. An index resembling the hand of a watch
partakes of this motion, and points successively to the divisions
of a graduated dial. On the completion of each revolution of this
toothed wheel (which, if the number of its teeth be 100, will com-
prise 100 revolutions of the movable plate), a projecting pin fixed
to it catches a tooth of another toothed wheel and turns it round,
and with it a corresponding index which thus records the number
of turns of the first toothea wheel. As an example of the applica-
tion of this siren, suppose that the number of revolutions of the plate,
as shown by the indices, amounts to §400 in a minute, that is,
to 90 per second, then the number of vibrations per second of the
note heard amounts to gon, or (if number of holes in each plate = 8)
to 720.
H. N. Dove (1803-1879) produced a modification of the siren
by which the relations of different musical notes may be more
readily ascertained. In it the fixed and movable plates
are gagj, furnished with four concentric series of per-
forations, dividing the circumferences into different
aliquot parts, as, for example, 8, 10, 12, 16. Beneath the lower
or fixed plate are four metallic rings furnished with holes corre-
sponding to those in the plates, and which may be pushed round by
projecting pins, so as to admit the air-current through any one
or more of the series of perforations in the fixed plate. Thus may
be obtained, either separately or in various combinations, the four
notes whose vibrations are in the ratios of the above numbers,
and which therefore form the fundamental chord (CEGCi). The
inventor has given to this instrument the name of the many-voiced
siren.
Helmholtz (Sensations of Tone, ch. yiii.) further adapted the
siren for more extensive use, by the addition to Dove's instrument
0*. another chest con-
taming its own fixed
anc* movaDle perforated
plates and perforated
rings, both the movable platas being
driven by the same current and
revolving about a common axis.
Annexed is a figure of this instru-
ment (fig. 17).
Graphic Methods. — The relation
between the pitch of a note and
the frequency of the corresponding
vibrations has also been studied by
graphic methods. Thus, if an elastic
metal slip or a pig's bristle be at-
tached to one prong of a tuning-
EF- m fork, and if the fork, while in
Jl\ \ vibration, is moved rapidly over a
U\ r \ Uf| glass plate coated with lamp-black,
1 \ P \V V tne attached sty'e touching the
%'tt-i .J _ '\^J\ plate lightly, a wavy line will be
traced on the plate answering to
* I the vibrations to and fro of the
fork. The same result will be ob-
tained with a stationary fork and a
_ ,
ove s
Double
Slrea.
FIG. 17.
movable glass plate; and, if the time occupied by the plate in
moving through a given distance can be ascertained and the number
of complete undulations exhibited on the plate for that distance,
which is evidently the number of vibrations of the fork in that
time, is reckoned, we shall have determined the numerical vibration-
value of the note yielded by the fork. Or, if the same plate •
be moved in contact with two tuning-forks, we shall, by compar-
ing the number of sinuosities in the one trace with that in the
other, be enabled to assign the ratio of the corresponding numbers
of vibrations per second. Thus, if the one note be an octave
higher than the other, it will give double the number of waves
in the same distance. The motion of the plate may be simply
produced by dropping it between two vertical grooves, the
tuning-forks being properly fixed to a frame above.
Greater accuracy may be attained with a revolving-drum chrono-
graph first devited by Tho'mas Young (Lect. on Nat. Phil., 1807,
i. 190), consisting of a cylinder which may be coated
with lamp-black, or, better still, a metallic cylinder
round which a blackened sheet of paper is wrapped.
The cylinder is mounted on an axis and turned round, while the
style attached to the vibrating body is in light contact with it, and
traces therefore a wavy circle, which, on taking off the paper
and flattening it, becomes a wavy straight line. The superiority
of this arrangement arises from the comparative facility with
which the number of revolutions of the cylinder in a given
time may be ascertained. In R. Koenig's arrangement (Quelques
experiences d'acoustique, p. i) the axis of the cylinder is fashioned
as a screw, which works in fixed nuts at the ends, causing a sliding
as well as a rotatory motion of the cylinder. The lines traced out
by the vibrating pointer are thus prevented from overlapping
when more than one turn is given to the cylinder. • In the phonauto-
graph of E. L. Scott (Comptes rendus, 1861, 53, p. 108) any sound
whatever may be made to record its trace on the paper by means
of a large parabolic cavity resembling a speaking-trumpet, which
is freely open at the wider extremity, but is closed at the other
end by a thin stretched membrane. To the centre of this membrane
is attached a small feather-fibre, which, when the reflector is suit-
ably placed, touches lightly the surface of the revolving cylinder.
Any sound (such as that of the human voice) transmitting its rays
into the reflector, and communicating vibratory motion to the
membrane, will cause the feather to trace a sinuous line on the paper.
If, at the same time, a tuning-fork of known number of vibrations
per second be made to trace its own line close to the other, a
comparison of the two lines gives the number corresponding to the
sound under consideration. The phonograph (q.t.) may be regarded
as an instrument of this class, in that it records vibrations on a
revolving drum or disk.
Lissajous Figures. — A mode of exhibiting the ratio of the fre-
quencies of two forks was devised by Jules Antoine Lissajous (1822—
1880). On one prong of each fork is fixed a small plane mirror.
The two forks are fixed so that one vibrates in a vertical, and the
other in a horizontal, plane, and they are so placed that a converging
beam of light received on one mirror is reflected to the other and
then brought to a point on a screen. If the first fork alone vibrates,
the point on the screen appears lengthened out into a vertical
line through the changes in inclination of the first mirror, while
if the second fork alone vibrates, the point appears lengthened out
into a horizontal line. If both vibrate, the point describes a curve
which appears continuous through the persistence of the retinal
impression. Lissajous also obtained the figures by aid of the vibra-
tion microscope, an instrument which he invented. Instead of
a mirror, the objective of a microscope is attached to one prong
of the first fork and the eyepiece of the microscope is fixed behind
the fork. Instead of a mirror the second fork carries a bright
point on one prong, and the microscope is focused on this. If
both forks vibrate, an observer looking through the microscope
sees the bright point describing Lissajous figures. If the two
forks have the same frequency, it is easily seen that the figure will
be an ellipse (including as limiting cases, depending on relative
amplitude and phase, a circle and a straight line). If the forks
are not of exactly the same frequency the ellipse will slowly revolve,
and from its rate of revolution the ratio of the frequencies may be
determined (Rayleigh, Sound, i. § 33). If one is the octave of the
other a figure of 8 may be described, and so on. Fig. 18 shows
curves given by intervals of the octave, the twelfth and the fifth.
The kaleidophone devised by Charles Wheatstone in 1827 gives
these figures in a simple way. It consists of a straight rod clamped
in a vice and carrying a bead at its upper free end. The bead is
illuminated and shows a bright point of light. If the rod is circular
in section and perfectly uniform the end will describe a circle,
ellipse or straight line; but, as the elasticity is usually not exactly
the same in all directions, the figure usually changes and revolves.
Various modifications of the kaleidophone have been made
(Rayleigh, Sound, § 38).
Koenig devised a clock in which a fork of frequency 64 takes
the place of the pendulum (Wied. Ann., 1880, ix. 394). The motion
of the fork is maintained by the clock acting through
an escapement, and the dial registers both the number
of vibrations of the fork and the seconds, minutes and
hpurs. By comparison with a clock of known rate
the total number of vibrations of the fork in any time may be
accurately determined. One prong of the fork carries a micro-
scope objective, part of a vibration microscope, of which the
eyepiece is fixed at the back of the clock and the Lissajous figure
FREQUENCY AND PITCH]
SOUND
447
made by the clock fork and any other fork may be observed. With
this apparatus Koenig studied the effect of temperature on a
standard fork of 256 frequency, and found that the frequency
decreased by 0-0286 of a vibration for a rise of 1°, the frequency
being exactly 256 at 26-2° C. Hence the frequency may be put as
256)1—0-000113 (t — 26-2)).
Clarke's
Strobo-
scopk
Method.
(From Lord Rayleigh's Theory of Sound, by permission of Macmillan & Co., Ltd.)
FIG. 18.
Koenig also used the apparatus to investigate the effect on the
frequency of a fork of a resonating cavity placed near it. He
found that when the pitch of the cavity was below that of the fork
the pitch of the fork was raised, and vice versa. But when the pitch
of the cavity was exactly that of the fork when vibrating alone,
though it resounded most strongly, it did not affect the frequency
of the fork. These effects have been explained by Lord Rayleigh
(Sound, i. § 117).
In the stroboscopic method of H. M'Leod and G. S. Clarke, the
full details of which will be found in the original memoir (Phil.
Trans., 1880, pt. i. p. l), a cylinder is ruled with equi-
M'Lcodaad distant white lines parallel to the axis on a black
ground. It is set so that it can be turned at any de-
sired and determined speed about a horizontal axis,
and when going fast enough it appears grey. Imagine
now that a fork with black prongs is held near the
cylinder with its prongs vertical and the plane of vibration
parallel to the axis, and suppose that we watch the outer out-
line of the right-hand prong. Let the cylinder be rotated so that
each white line moves exactly into the place of the next while the
prong moves once in and out. Hence when a white line is in
a particular position on the cylinder, the prong will always be the
same distance along it and cut off the same length from view.
The most will be cut off in the position of the lines corresponding
to the furthest swing out, then less and less till the furthest swing
in, then more and more till the furthest swing out, when the appear-
ance will be exactly as at first. The boundary between ,the grey
cylinder and the black fork will therefore appear wavy with fixed
undulations, the distance from crest to crest being the distance
between the lines on the cylinder. If the fork has slightly greater
frequency, then a white line will not quite reach the next place
while the fork is making its swing in and out, and the waves will
travel against the motion of the cylinder. If the fork has slightly
less frequency the waves will travel in the opposite direction, and
it is easily seen that the frequency of the fork is the number of
white lines passing a point in a second ± the number of waves
passing the point per second. This apparatus was used to find the
temperature coefficient of the frequency of forks, the value ob-
tained— -oooi i being the same as that found by Koenig. Another
important result of the investigation was that the phase of vibra-
tion of the fork was not altered by bowing it, the amplitude alone
changing. The method is easily adapted for the converse deter-
mination of speed of revolution when the frequency of a fork is
known.
The phonic wheel, invented independently by Paul La Cour and
Lord Rayleigh (see Sound, i. § 68 c), consists of a wheel carrying
several soft-iron armatures fixed at equal distances
p? frf S round its circumference. The wheel rotates between
W°L . the poles of an electro-magnet, which is fed by an
intermittent current such as that which is working an
electrically maintained tuning-fork (see infra). If the wheel be
driven at such rate that the armatures move one place on in about
the period of the current, then on putting on the current the electro-
magnet controls the rate of the wheel so that the agreement of
period is exact, and the wheel settles down to move so that the
electric driving forces just supply the work taken out of the wheel.
If the wheel has very little work to do it may not be necessary to
apply driving power, and uniform rotation may be maintained by
the electro-magnet. In an experiment described by Rayleigh
such a wheel provided with four armatures was used to determine
the exact frequency of a driving fork known to have a frequency
near 32. Thus the wheel made about 8 revolutions per second.
There was one opening in its disk, and through this was viewed
the pendulum of a clock beating seconds. On the pendulum was
fixed an illuminated silver bead which appeared as a bright point
of light when seen for an instant. Suppose now an observer to
be looking from a fixed point at the bead through the hole in the
phonic wheel, he will see the bead as 8 bright points flashing out
in each beat, and in succession at intervals of g second. Let us
suppose that he notes the positions of two of these next to each other
in the beat of the pendulum one way. If the fork makes exactly
32 vibrations and the wheel 8 revolutions in one pendulum beat,
then the positions will be fixed, and every two seconds, the time
of a complete pendulum vibration, he will see the two positions
looked at flash out in succession at an interval of | second. But
if the fork has, say, rather greater frequency, the hole in the wheel
comes round at the end of the two seconds before the bead has
quite come into position, and the two flashes appear gradually
to move back in the opposite way to the pendulum. Suppose that
in N beats of the clock the flashes have moved exactly one place
back. Then the first flash in the new position is viewed by the
8Nth passage of the opening, and the second flash in the original
position of the first is viewed when the pendulum h^s made exactly
N beats and by the (8 N + i)th passage of the hole. Then the
wheel makes 8 N + i revolutions in N clock beats, and the fork
makes 32 N + 4 vibrations in the same time. If the clock is going
exactly right, this gives a frequency for the fork of 32 + 4/N. If
the fork has rather less frequency than 32 then the flashes appear
to move forward and the frequency will be 32— 4/N. In Rayleigh's
experiment the 32 fork was made to drive electrically one of fre-
quency about 128, and somewhat as with the phonic wheel, the
frequency was controlled so as to be exactly four times that of the
32 fork. A standard 128 ;fork could then be compared either
optically or by beats with the electrically driven fork.
Scheibler's Tonometer. — When two tones are sounded together
with frequencies not very different, " beats " or swellings-out of the
sound are heard of frequency equal to the difference of frequencies
of the two tones (see below). Johann Heinrich Scheibler (1777-
1838) tuned two forks to an exact octave, and then prepared a
number of. others dividing the octave into such small steps that
the beats between each and the next could be counted easily.
Let the forks be numbered o, I, 2, . . . N. If the frequency
of o is n, that of N is 2n. Suppose that No. i makes mi beats
with No. o, that No. 2 makes mt beats with No. I, and so on, then
the frequencies are
n, n+m\, n+mi+m?, . . ., n+mt+m^+ . . . + mu-
Since n+mi+>»2+ . . . + m^=2n, n = mi-\-mi-\- . . . -\-m-^,
and it follows that when n is known, the frequency of every fork
in the range may be determined.
Any other fork within this octave can then have its frequency
determined by finding the two between which it lies. Suppose,
for instance, it makes 3 beats with No. 10, it might have frequency
either 3 above or below that of No. 10. But if it lies above No. 10
it will beat less often with No. II than with No. 9; if below
No. 10 less often with No. 9 than with No. n. Suppose it lies
between No. 10 and No. II its frequency is that of No. 10+3.
Manometric Flames. — This is a device due to Koenig (Phil. Mag.,
J873, 45) and represented diagrammatically in fig. 19. / is a flame
FIG. 19.
from a pinhole burner, fed through a cavity C, one side of which is
closed by a membrane m; on the other side of the membrane is
another cavity C', which is put into connexion with a source of
sound, as, for instance, a Helmholtz resonator excited by a fork
of the same frequency. The membrane vibrates, and alternately
checks and increases the gas supply, and the flame jumps up and
down with the frequency of the source. It then appears elongated.
To show its intermittent character its reflection is viewed in a re-
volving mirror. For this purpose four vertical mirrors are arranged
round the vertical sides of a cube which is rapidly revolved about
a vertical axis. The flame then appears toothed as shown. If
several notes are present the flame is jagged by each. Interesting
results are obtained by singing the different vowels into a funnel
substituted for the resonator in the figure.
SOUND
[DIATONIC SCALE
If two such flames are placed one under the other they may be
excited by different sources, and the ratio of the frequencies may be
approximately determined by counting the number of teeth in each
in the same space.
The Diatonic Scale.
It is not necessary here to deal generally with the various
musical scales. We shall treat only of the diatonic scale,
which is the basis of European music, and is approximated to
as closely as is consistent with convenience of construction in
key-board instruments, such as the piano, where the eight white
notes beginning with C and ending with C an octave higher
may be taken as representing the scale with C as the key-note.
All experiments in frequency show that two notes, forming
a definite musical interval, have their frequencies always in the
same ratio wherever in the musical scale the two notes are
situated. In the scale of C|the intervals from the key-note, the
frequency ratios with the key-note, the successive frequency
ratios and the successive intervals are as follows: —
Note . . .
C
D
E
F
G
A
B
C
Interval with C
second
major
fourth
fifth
major
seventh
octave
third
sixth
Frequency *.
i
1
I
1
»
i
V
2
Successive fre-
I
V
II
1
10
1
I
tl
quency ratios.
Successive in-
major
minor
major
major
minor
major
major
tervals
tone
tone
semi-
tone
tone
tone
semi-
tone
tone
If we pass through two intervals in succession, as, for instance,
if we ascend through a fourth from C to F and then through
a third from F to A, the frequency ratio of A to C is f , which is
the product of the ratios for a fourth f , and a third f. That is,
if we add intervals we must multiply frequency ratios to obtain
the frequency ratio for the interval which is the sum of the two.
The frequency ratios in the diatonic scale are all expressible
either as fractions, with i, 2, 3 or 5 as numerator and denomina-
tor, or as products of such fractions; and it may be shown that
for a given note the numerator and denominator are smaller
than any other numbers which would give us a note in the
immediate neighbourhood.
Thus the second f=$XfXj, and we may regard it as an
ascent through two fifths in succession and then a descent
through an octave. The third i= 5X5X5 or ascent through
an interval f, which has no special name, and a descent
through two octaves, and so on.
Now suppose we take G as the key-note and form its diatonic
scale. If we write down the eight notes from G to g in the key
of C, their frequency ratios to C, the frequency ratios required
by the diatonic scale for G, we get the frequency ratios required
in the last line: —
Notes on scale of C
G
A
B
c
d
' e
f
t
Frequency ratios with C = i .
Frequency ratios of diatonic scale
*
i
V
2
I
"
8
3
with G = i
i
^
\
g
8
I
V
2
Frequency ratios with C = I, G = J .
f
H
V
2
f
5
1
3
We see that all but two notes coincide with notes on the scale
of C. But instead of A = jj we have H, and instead of /= f we
have 4$. The interval between i and f$ - H + f = f J- is
termed a " comma," and is so small that the same note on an
instrument may serve for both. But the interval between f and
f| = ^-f -i- f = ^ff is quite perceptible, and on the piano,
for instance, a separate string must be provided above /. This
note is /sharp, and the interval }-f£ is termed a sharp.
Taking the successive key-notes D, A, E, B, it is found that
besides small and negligible differences, each introduces a new
sharf), and so we get the five sharps, C, D, F, G, A, represented
nearly by the black keys.
If we start with F as key-note, besides a small difference at
d, we have as the fourth from it f X f = V, making with
B = V an interval •}•$£, and requiring a new note, B flat.
This does not coincide with A sharp which is the octave below
the seventh from BoxVXVXf- Hf It makes with
it an interval = V + ?if = fM&, rather less than a comma;
so that the same string in the piano may serve for both. If we
take the new note B flat as key-note, another note, E flat, is
required. E flat as key-note introduces another flat, and so
on, 'each flat not quite coinciding with a sharp but at a very
small interval from it.
It is evident that for exact diatonic scales for even a limited
number of key-notes, key-board instruments would have to be
provided with a great number of separate strings or pipes,
and the corresponding keys would be required. The construc-
tion would be complicated and the playing exceedingly difficult.
The same string or pipe and the same key have therefore to
serve for what should be slightly different notes. A compromise
has to be made, and the note has to be tuned so as to make the
compromise as little unsatisfactory as possible. At present
twelve notes are used in the octave, and these are arranged at
equal intervals 2^. This is termed the equal temperament scale,
and it is obviously only an approach to the diatonic scale.
Helmholtz's Notation. — In works on sound it is
usual to adopt Helmholtz's notation, in which the
octave from bass to mic}dle_ C is written c d e f e
a b c'. The octave above is c' d' e' j' g' a' V c .
The next octave above has two accents, and each
succeeding octave another accent. The octave
below bass C is written CDEFGABc. The
next octave below is Ci Di EI FI Gi Ai Bi C, and
each preceding octave has another accent as suffix.
The standard frequency for laboratory work is
£ = 128, so that middle £'=256 and treble c* =
512.
The standard for musical instruments has varied (see PITCH,
MUSICAL). Here it is sufficient to say that the French standard is
a' =435 with c" practically 522, and that in England the pitch is
somewhat higher.
The French notation is as under : —
CDEFGABc
Uti Rei Mi Fai Soli Lai Su Utj.
The next higher octave has the suffix 2, the next higher the suffix 3,
and so on. French forks are marked with double the true frequency,
so that Utj is marked 512.
Limiting Frequencies for Musical Sounds. — Until the vibrations of
a source have a frequency in the neighbourhood of 30 per second
the ear can hear the separate impulses, if strong enough, but does
not hear a note. It is not easy to determine the exact point at
which the impulses fuse into a continuous tone, for higher tones are
usually present with the deepest of which the frequency is being
counted, and these may be mistaken for it. Helmholtz (Sensations
of Tone, ch. ix.) used a string loaded at the middle point so that the
higher tones were several octaves above the fundamental, and so
not likely to be mistaken for it; he found that with 37 vibrations
per second a very weak sensation of tone was heard, but with 34
there was scarcely anything audible left. A determinate musical
pitch is not perceived, he says, till about 40 vibrations per second.
At the other end of the scale with increasing frequency there is
another limiting frequency somewhere about 20,000 per second,
beyond which no sound is heard. But this limit varies greatly
with different individuals and with age for the same individual.
Persons who when young could hear the squeaks of bats may be
quite deaf to them when older. Koenig constructed a series of bars
forming a harmonicon, the frequency of each bar being calculable,
and he found the limit to be between 16,000 and 24,000.
The Number of Vibrations needed to give the Perception of Pitch. —
Experiments have been made on this subject by various workers,
the most extensive by W. Kohlrausch (Wied. Ann., 1880, x. i).
He allowed a limited number of teeth on the arc of a circle to strike
against a card. With sixteen teeth the pitch was well defined;
with nine teeth it was fairly determinate; and even with two teeth
it could be assigned with no great error. His remarkable result
that two waves give some sense of pitch, in fact a tone with wave-
length equal to the interval between the waves, has been confirmed
by other observers.
Alteration of Pitch with Motion of Source or Hearer: Doppler's
Principle. — A very noticeable illustration of the alteration of pitch
by motion occurs when a whistling locomotive moves rapidly past
an observer. As it passes, the pitch of the whistle falls quite
appreciably. The explanation is simple. The engine follows up
any wave that it has sent forward, and so crowds up the succeeding
waves into a less distance than if it remained at rest. It draws
off from any wave it has sent backward and so spreads the succeeding
waves over a longer distance than if it had remained at rest. Hence
the forward waves are shorter and the backward waves are longer.
Since U = n X where U is the velocity of sound, X the wave-length,
and n the frequency, it follows that the forward frequency is greater
than the backward frequency.
The more general case of motion of source, medium and receiver
MUSICAL QUALITY]
SOUND
449
may be treated very easily if the motions are all in the line joining
source and receiver. Let S (fig. 20) be the source at a given instant,
and let its frequency of vibration, or the number of waves it sends
out per second, be n. Let S' be its position one second later, its
velocity being «. Let R be the. receiver at a given instant, R' its
position a second later, its velocity being v. Let the velocity of the
air from S to R be w, and let U be the velocity of sound in still air.
FIG. 20.
If all were still, the n waves emitted by S in one second would spread
over a length U. But through the wind velocity the first wave is
carried to a distance U + vi from S, while through the motion of
the source the last wave is a distance u from S. Then the n waves
occupy a space U -f- w — u. Now turning to the receiver, let us
consider what length is occupied by the waves which pass him in
one second. If he were at rest, it would be the waves in length
U + w, for the wave passing him at the beginning of a second would
be so tar distant at the end of the second. But through his motion
» in the second, he receives only the waves in distance U + w— v.
Since there are n waves in distance U + w — u the number he actu-
ally receives is n(U -\-w — f)/(U -\-iti — u). If the velocities of
source and receiver are equal then the frequency is not affected by
their motion or by the wind. But if their velocities are different,
the frequency of the waves received is affected both by these
velocities and by that of the wind.
The change in pitch through motion of the source may be
illustrated by putting a pitch-pipe in one end of a few feet of rubber
tubing and blowing through the other end while the tubing is whirled
round the head. An observer in the plane of the motion can easily
hear a change in the pitch as the pitch-pipe moves to and from him.
Musical Quality or Timbre. — Though a musical note has definite
pitch or frequency, notes of the same pitch emitted by different
instruments have quite different quality or timbre. The three
characteristics of a longitudinal periodic disturbance are its ampli-
tude, the length after which it repeats itself, and its form, which may
be represented by the shape of the displacement curve. Now the
amplitude evidently corresponds to the loudness, and the length
of period corresponds to the pitch or frequency. Hence we must
put down the quality or timbre as depending on the form.
The simplest form of wave, so far as our sensation goes — that is,
the one giving rise to a pure tone-^is, we have every reason to suppose,
one in which the displacement is represented by a harmonic curve
or a curve of sines, y=a sin m(x— e). If we put this in the form
y=a sin y (x—e), we see that y=o, for x=e, e+%\, e+|X,
e+IX, and so on, that y is + from x = e to *=e+JX, —from
e + %\ to e+iX, and so on, and that it alternates between the
values+a and— a.
The form of the curve is evidently as represented in fig. 21, and
it may easily be drawn to exact scale from a table of sines.
H
I
A/
M
K
FIG. 21.
In this curve ABCD are nodes. OA = e is termed the epoch,
being the distance from O of the first ascending node. AC is the
shortest distance after which the curve begins to repeat itself;
this length X is termed the wave-length. The maximum height
of the curve HM=a is the amplitude. If we transfer O to A,
e = o, and the curve may be represented by y=a sin ^x.
If now the curve moves along unchanged in form in the direction
ABC with uniform velocity U, the epoch e = OA at any time t will
be \Jt, so that the value of y may be represented as
y = a sin -£(x — Vf).
(16)
The velocity perpendicular to the axis of any pbint on the curve
at a fixed distance x from O is
The acceleration perpendicular to the axis is
(18)
which is an equation characteristic of simple harmonic motion.
The maximum velocity of a particle in the wave-train is the
amplitude of dyjdt. It is, therefore,
xxv. 15
The maximum pressure excess is the amplitude of S> = Eu/U
= (ElU)dyldt. It is therefore
um = (E / U) 27rUa/X = 2ir«pUo. (20)
We have already found the energy density in the train and the
energy stream in equations (13) and (14).
The chief experimental basis for supposing that a train of longi-
tudinal waves with displacement curve of this kind arouses the
sensation of a pure tone is that the more nearly a source is made to
vibrate with a single simple harmonic motion, and therefore,
presumably, the more nearly it sends out such a harmonic train,
the more nearly does the note heard approximate to a single
pure tone.
Any periodic curve may be resolved into sine or harmonic curves
by Fourier's theorem.
Suppose that any periodic sound disturbance, consist- ~°.
ing of plane waves, is being propagated in the Theorem-
direction ABCD (fig. 22). Let it be represented by a displacement
curve AHBKC. Its periodicity implies that after a certain distance
the displacement curve exactly repeats itself. Let AC be the
L
FIG. 22.
shortest distance after which the repetition occurs, so that CLDME
is merely AHBKC moved on a distance AC. Then AC = X is the
wave-length or period of the curve. Let ABCD be drawn at such
level that the areas above and below it are equal; then ABCD is
the axis of the curve. Since the curve represents a longitudinal
disturbance in air it is always continuous, at a finite distance from
the axis, and with only one ordinate for each abscissa.
Fourier's theorem asserts that such a curve may be built up by
the superposition, or addition of ordinates, of a series of sine curves
of wave-lengths X, \\, \\, JX. . . if the amplitudes a, 6, c. . .and
the epochs e, f, g. . . . are suitably adjusted, and the proof of the
theorem gives rules for finding these quantities when the original
curve is known. We may therefore put
y = a sin (x-e)+b sin ^(x-f)+c sin -^(x-g)+&c. (21)
where the terms may be infinite in number, but always have wave-
lengths submultiples of the original or fundamental wave-length X.
Only one such resolution of a given periodic curve is possible, and
each of the constituents repeats itself not only after a distance
equal to its own wave-length \/n, but evidently also after a distance
equal to the fundamental wave-length X. The successive terms of
(21) are called the harmonics of the first term.
It follows from this that any periodic disturbance in air can be
resolved into a definite series of simple harmonic disturbances of
wave-lengths equal to the original wave-length and its successive
submultiples, and each of these would separately give the sensa-
tion of a pure tone. If the series were complete we should have
terms which separately would correspond to the fundamental, its
octave, its twelfth, its double octave, and so on. Now we can see
that two notes of the same pitch, but of different quality, or different
form of displacement curve, will, when thus analysed, break up into
a series having the same harmonic wave-lengths; but they may
differ as regards the members of the series present and their ampli-
tudes and epochs. We may regard quality, then, as determined by
the members of the harmonic series present and their amplitudes and
epochs. It may, however, be stated here that certain experiments
of Helmholtz appear to show that the epoch of the harmonics has
not much effect on the quality.
Fourier's theorem can also be usefully applied to the disturbance
of a source of sound under certain conditions. The nature of these
conditions will be best realized by considering the case of a stretched
string. It is shown below how the vibrations of a string may be
deduced from stationary waves. Let us here suppose that the string
AB is displaced into the form AHB (fig. 23) and is then let go. Let
FIG. 23.
us imagine it to form half a wave-length of the extended train
ZGAHBKC, on an indefinitely extended stretched string, the values
of y at equal distances from A (or from B) being equal and opposite.
Then, as we shall prove later, the vibrations of the string may be
represented by the travelling of two trains in opposite directions
each with velocity
V tension -r mass per unit length
each half the height of the train represented in fig. 23. For the
superposition of these trains will give a stationary wave between A
5
450
SOUND
[INTENSITY OR LOUDNESS
and B. Now we may resolve these trains by Fourier's theorem into
harmonics of wave-lengths X, JX, iX, &c., where X = 2AB and the
conditions as to the values of y can be shown to require that the
harmonics shall all have nodes, coinciding with the nodes of the
fundamental curve. Since the velocity is the same for all disturb-
ances they all travel at the same speed, and the two trains will
always remain of the same form. If then we resolve AHBKC into
harmonics by Fourier's theorem, we may follow the motion of the
separate harmonics, and their superposition will give the form of the
string at any instant. Further, the same harmonics with the same
amplitude will always be present.
We see, then, that the conditions for the application of Fourier's
theorem are equivalent to saying that all disturbances will travel
along the system with the same velocity. In many vibrating
systems this does not hold, and then Fourier's theorem is no longer
an appropriate resolution. But where it is appropriate, the disturb-
ance sent out into the air contains the same harmonic series as
the source.
The question now arises whether the sensation produced by a
periodic disturbance can be analysed in correspondence with this
„ .._,/n_ geometrical analysis. Using the term " note" for the
sound produced by a periodic disturbance, there is no
doubt that a well-trained ear can resolve a note into pure tones of
frequencies equal to those of the fundamental and its harmonics.
If, for instance, a note is struck and held down on a piano, a little
practice enables us to hear both the octave and the twelfth with the
fundamental, especially if we
have previously directed our
attention to these tones by
sounding them. But the har-
monics are most readily heard
if we fortify the ear by an air
cavity with a natural period
equal to that of the harmonic
to be sought. The form used
by Helmholtz is a glove of thin
brass (fig. 24) with a large hole
at one end of a diameter, at
the other end of which the
brass is drawn out into a short,
narrow tube that can be put
close to the ear. But a card-
board tube closed at one end, with the open end near the ear, will
often suffice, and it may be tuned by more or less covering up
the open end. If the harmonic corresponding to the resonator is
present its tone swells out loudly.
This resonance is a particular example of the general principle
that a vibrating system will be set in vibration by any periodic
P a VI- ^orce applied to it, and ultimately in the period of the
",, force, its own natural vibrations gradually dying down.
brut ton sito , -, • < «» _i.r j -t i •
„ Vibrations thus excited are termed forced vibrations,
' and their amplitude is greater the more nearly the
period of the applied force approaches that of the system when
vibrating freely. The mathematical investigation of forced vibra-
tions (Rayleigh.Sottmi, i. § 46) shows that, if there were nodissipation
of energy, the vibration would increase indefinitely when the periods
coincided. But there is always leakage of energy either through
friction or through wave-emission, so that the vibration only
increases up to the point at which the leakage of energy balances
the energy put in by the applied force. Further, the greater the
dissipation of energy the less is the prominence of the amplitude of
vibration for exact coincidence over the amplitude when the periods
are not quite the same, though it is still the greatest for coincidence.
The principle of forced vibration may be illustrated by a simple
case. Suppose that a mass M is controlled by some sort of spring,
so that moving freely it executes harmonic vibrations given by
Mi= — \ix, where fix is the restoring force to the centre of vibration.
Putting tt/M=n? the equation becomes x+ri>x = o, whence
x = A sin nt, and the period is 2ir/n.
Now suppose that in addition to the internal force represented by
— iix, an external harmonic force of period 2v/p is applied. Repre-
senting it by — P sin pt, the equation of motion is now
•^-.sinpt=O. (22)
FIG. 24. — Helmholtz Resonator.
Let us assume that the body makes vibrations in the new period
2-rp, and let us put x = B sin pt; substituting in (22) we have
-p*B+n*B + P/M =o, whence
and the " forced " oscillation due to — P sin pt is
P sin pt
' '
(23)
If p> n the motion agrees in phase with that which the applied force
alone would produce, obtained by putting n=o. If pm = 2irnap\J ,
for in the stationary wave system the pressure change and the
amplitude are both double those in either train, so that the same
relation holds.
Determinations of the pressure changes, or extent of excursion
of the air, in sounding organ pipes have been made by A. Kundt
(Pogg. Ann., 1868, 134, p. 163), A. J. I. Topler and
L. Boltzmann (Pogg. Ann., vol. 141, or Rayleigh,^™'"".'"'60'
Sound, ii. § 4220), and E. 'Mach (Optisch-akustischen"'rat'oa-
Versuche, 1873). Mach's method is perhaps the most direct. The
pipe was fixed in a horizontal position, and along the top wall ran
a platinum wire wetted with sulphuric acid. When the wire was
heated by an electric current a fine line of vapour descended from
each drop. The pipe was closed at the centre by a membrane
which prevented a through draught, yet permitted the vibrations,
as it was at a node. The vapour line, therefore, merely vibrated to
and fro when the pipe was sounded. The extent of vibration at
different parts of the pipe was studied through a glass side wall, a
stroboscopic method being used to get the position of the vapour line
at a definite part of the vibration. Mach found an excursion of
0-4 cm. at the end of an open pipe 123 cm. long. The amplitude
found by the other observers was of the same order. For the
vibration of air in other cavities than long cylindrical pipes we refer
to Rayleigh's Sound, vol. ii. chs. 12 and 16.
Propagation of Waves in Pipes of Circular Section. — Helmholtz
investigated the velocity of propagation of sound in pipes, taking
into account the viscosity of the air (Rayleigh, Sound, ii. § 347), and
Kirchhoff investigated it, taking into account both the viscosity
and the heat communication between the air and the walls of the
pipe (loc. cit. ii. § 350). Both obtained the value for the velocity
U I~
where U is the velocity in free air, R is the radius of the pipe, N the
frequency, and p the air density. C is a constant, equal to the
coefficient of viscosity in Helmholtz's theory, but less simple in
Kirchhoff's theory. Experiments on the velocity in pipes were
carried out by H. Schneebeli (Pogg. Ann., 1869, 136, p. 296) and by
T. J. Seebeck (Pogg. Ann., 1870, 139, p. 104) which accorded with
this result as far as R is concerned, but the diminution of velocity
was found to be more nearly proportional to N"3. Kundt also
obtained results in general agreement with the formula (Rayleigh,
Sound, ii. § 260). He used his dust-tube method.
Elementary Theory of the Transverse Vibration of
Musical Strings. .
We shall first investigate the velocity with which a disturbance
travels along a string of mass m per unit length when it is
stretched with a constant tension T, the same at all points.
We shall then show that on certain limitations two trains of
disturbance may be superposed so that stationary waves may
be formed, and thence we shall deduce the modes of vibration
as with pipes.
FIG. 33.
Let AB (fig. 33) represent the string with the ends AB fixed. Let
a disturbance once set going travel along unchanged in form from
A to B with velocity U. Then move AB from right to left with
this velocity, and the disturbance remains fixed in space. Take
a point P in the disturbed part, and a point Q which the disturbance
has not yet reached. Since the conditions in the region PQ remain
always the same, the momentum perpendicular to AB entering the
region at Q is equal to the momentum perpendicular to AB leaving
the region at P. But, since the motion at Q is along AB, there is
no momentum there perpendicular to AB. So also there is on the
whole none in that direction leaving at P. Let the tangent at P
make angle with AB. The velocity of the string at P parallel to
PM is U sin $, and the mass of string passing P is m\J per second, so
that m.U2 sin is carried out per second. But the tension at P is T,
parallel to the tangent, and T sin parallel to PM, and through this
— T sin <£ is the momentum passing out at P per second. Since the
resultant is zero, mil* sin — T sin <£=o, or U2 = T/m.
Now keep AB fixed, and the disturbance travels with velocity U.
We might make this investigation more general by introducing a
force X as in the investigation for air, but it nardly appears necessary.
To form stationary waves two equal trains must be able to travel
in opposite directions with equal velocities, and to be superposed.
We must show then that the force called out by the sum of the dis-
turbances is equal to the sum of the forces called out by each train
separately.
In order that the velocity shall remain unchanged the tension T
must remain the same. This implies that the disturbance is so small
that the length is not appreciably altered. The component of T
454
SOUND
[WIRES AND RODS
acting parallel to the axis or straight string is Tdx/ds, and when the
disturbance is sufficiently small the curve of displacement is so
nearly parallel to the axis that dx/ds= I, and this component is T.
The component of T perpendicular to the axis is Tdylds = fdy/dx.
Now if y\ and yj are the displacements due to the two trains
separately, and y = y\-\-yi, the two separate forces are Tdyi/dx and
Tdyijdx, while that due to y is Tdy/dx. But since y = yi+y2,
Tdy/dx = Tdyi/dx+Tdyl/dx, or the condition for superposition
holds when the displacement is so small that we may put dx/ds=i.
Evidently this comes to neglecting 3. Let two trains of equal
waves moving in opposite directions along such a string of indefi-
nite length form the stationary system of fig. 27. Since the
nodes are always at rest we may represent the vibration of a
given string by the length between
any two nodes. The fundamental
mode is that in which A and B
represent the ends of the string. In
this case AB = i\i=/ the length, and
the frequency n\ = U/Xi = U/2/ =
(l/2/)V(T/w). The middle of the
string is a loop. In the next mode
A and C represent the ends and
AC = \i = l and n2 = U/X2 = 2U/2/ =
(2/2/)V(T/m). In the third mode
A and D represent the ends and
S = / and
FIG. 34.
(3/2/)V(T/m) and so on. In fig. 34
the stationary wave systems of the
first four modes are represented.
The complete series of harmonics
are possible modes.
The experimental demonstration
of these results is easily made by the sonometer or monochord
(fig- 35)- A string is fixed at C on the top of a hollow box, and
C
±
FIG. 35-
passes over two edges AB, which serve as the fixed ends, and then
over a pulley P, being stretched by a weight W. Between A and B
a " bridge " D, i.e. another edge slightly higher than A or B, can
be inserted in any position, which is determined by a graduated
scale. The effective length of the string is then AD. Keeping the
same tension, it may be shown that nl is constant by finding n for
various lengths. Keeping AD constant and varying W it may be
shown that n ooVW. Lastly, by using different strings, it may be
shown that, with the same T and I, n x ^(i/m).
The various modes of vibration may also be exhibited. If D is
removed and the string is bowed in the middle, the fundamental is
brought out. If it is touched in the middle with a feather, the edge
of a card, or the finger nail, and bowed a quarter of the way along
the octave, the first overtone comes out. Each of the first few
harmonics may be easily obtained by touching the string at the first
node of the harmonic required, and bowing at the first loop, and the
presence of the nodes and loops may be verified by putting light
paper riders of shape A on the string at the nodes and loops. When
the harmonic is sounded the riders at the loops are thrown off, while
those at the nodes remain seated.
Not only may the fundamental and its harmonics be obtained
separately, but they are also to be heard simultaneously, particularly
the earlier ones, which are usually more prominent than those
higher in the series. A practised ear easily discerns the coexistence
of these various tones when a pianoforte or violin string is thrown
into vibration. It is evident that, in such case, the string, while
vibrating as a whole between its fixed extremities, is at the same time
executing subsidiary oscillations about its middle point, its points
FIG. 36.
of trisection, &c., as shown in fig. 36, for the fundamental and the
first harmonic. When a string is struck or bowed at a point, any
harmonic with a node at that point is absent. Since the quality
of the note sounded depends on the mixture of harmonics, the quality
therefore is to some extent dependent on the point of excitation.
A highly ingenious and instructive method for illustrating the
laws of musical strings was contrived by F. E. Melde. It consists
in attaching to the loop or ventral segment of a vibrating body, e.g. a
tuning-fork or a bell-glass, a silk or cotton thread, the other extremity
being either fixed or passing over a pulley and supporting weights
by which the thread may be stretched to any degree required. The
vibrations of the larger mass are communicated to the thread, which
by proper adjustment of its length and tension vibrates in unison
and divides itself into one or more loops or ventral segments easily
discernible by a spectator. If the length of the thread be kept
invariable, a certain tension will give but one ventral segment; the
fundamental note of the thread is then of the same pitch as the note
of the body to which it is attached. By reducing the tension to one
quarter of its previous amount, the number of ventral segments will
be seen to be increased to two, indicating that the first harmonic of
the thread is now in unison with the solid, and consequently that its
fundamental is an octave lower than it was with the former tension ;
thus confirming the law that n varies as VT. In like manner,
on further lowering the tension to one ninth, three ventral segments
will be formed, and so on.
The law that, caeteris paribus, n varies inversely as the thickness
may be tested by forming a string of four lengths of the single thread
used before, and consequently of double the thickness of the latter,
when, for the same length and tension, the compound thread will
exhibit double the number of ventral segments presented by the
single thread.
The other laws admit of similar illustration.
Longitudinal Vibrations of Wires and Rods.
Subject to a limitation which we shall examine later, the
velocity of a longitudinal disturbance along a wire or rod depends
only on the material of the rod, and not upon the cross-section.
Since the forces called into play by an extension or compression
of the material are proportional to the cross-section, it follows
that if we consider any case and then another case in which, with
the same longitudinal disturbance, the cross-section is doubled,
the force in the second case is doubled as well as the mass to be
moved. The acceleration therefore remains the same, and the
velocity is unaltered. We shall find the velocity of propagation,
just as in previous cases, from the consideration of transfer of
momentum.
Suppose that a disturbance is travelling with velocity U unchanged
in form along a rod from left to right. Let us move the rod from
right to left, so that the undisturbed parts move with velocity U.
Then the disturbance remains fixed in space. Let A be a point in
FIG. 37.
the disturbance, and B a point in the undisturbed part. The
material between A and B, though continually changing, is always
in the same condition, and therefore the momentum within AB is
constant. Hence the amount carried out at A is equal to that
carried in at B.
Now momentum is transferred in two ways, viz. by the force
acting between contiguous portions of a body and by the transfer
of moving matter. At B there is only the latter kind, and since
the transfer of matter is pooioU, where po is the undisturbed density
and coo is the undisturbed cross-section, since its velocity is U the
passage of momentum per second is pocooW. At A, if the velocity
of the disturbance relative to undisturbed parts of the rod is u from
left to right, the velocity relative to A is U — u. If p is the density
at A, and S> the cross-section, then the momentum carried past A
is pco(U — uf. But if y is the displacement at A, dy/dx is the extension
at A, and the force acting is a pull across A equal to Yuody/dx, where
Y is Young's modulus of elasticity. Then we have
YSod:y/adx
or p£>(l+dy/dx)= patio. (29)
Substituting from (28) in (27)
YoSo-^ + pcoU' (i + 3!) » = Po-SoU1, (30)
and substituting from (29) in (30)
(30
whence Ycoo = poioU2,
or U' =Y/p, (32)
where now p is the normal density of the rod. The velocity with
which the rod must travel in order that the disturbance may be
fixed in space is therefore U = V(Y/p), or, if the rod is kept fixed,
this is the velocity with which the disturbance travels.
This investigation is subject to the limitation that the diameter
of the cross-section must be small compared with the wave-length.
When the rod extends or contracts longitudinally it contracts or
PLATES]
SOUND
455
extends radially and in the ratio a, known as Poisson's ratio, which
in metals is not far from \. Let us suppose that the rod is circular,
of radius r, and that the radial displacement of the surface is TJ. The
longitudinal extension is dy/dx, and therefore the radial contraction
is itlr = is G = %nira1/l, and we
may put /l = d8/dx. Since no angular momentum goes out on the
whole
12mra*d6/dx + %PTratUd8/dt = o. (33)
But the condition of unchanged form requires that the matter
shall twist through (dd/dx)dx while it is travelling over dx, i.e. in
time dx/V.
de dx d9, de ,,dO
„,
Then
Tt
.
Substituting in (33) we get
(34)
If we now keep the wire at rest the disturbance travels along it with
velocity U = V (n/p), and it depends on the rigidity and density of
the wire and not upon its radius.
It is easy to deduce the modes of vibration from stationary waves
as in the previous cases. If a rod is clamped at one end and free
at the other, the fundamental frequency is (i//)V (n/p). For iron
n/p is of the order 10", so that the frequency for a rod I metre long
is about 3000. When a cart wheel is ungreased it produces a very
high note, probably due to torsional vibrations of the axle.
The torsional vibrations of a wire are excited when it is bowed.
If small paper rings are put on a monochord wire they rotate through
these vibrations when the wire is bowed.
Transverse Vibrations of Bars or Rods. — When a bar or rod is of
considerable cross-section, a transversal disturbance calls into play
forces due to the strain of the material much more important than
the forces due to any tension which is ordinarily applied. The
velocity of a disturbance along such a bar, and its modes of vibration,
depend therefore on the elastic properties of the material and the
dimensions of the bar. We cannot investigate the vibrations in an
elementary manner. A full discussion will be found in Rayleigh's
Sound, vol. i. ch. 8. We shall only give a few results.
The cases interesting in sound are those in which (i) the bar is
free at both ends, and (2) it is clamped at one end and free at the
other.
For a bar free at both ends the fundamental mode of vibration has
two nodes, each 0-224 of the length from the end. The next mode has
a node in the middle and two others each 0-132 from the end. The
third mode has four nodes 0-094 and 0-357 f.ronl eacn e"d. and so
on. The frequencies are nearly in the ratios 32:52:72. . . . Such
bars are used in the harmonicon.
When one end is clamped and the other is free the clamped end is
always a node. The fundamental mode has that node only. The
next mode has a second node 0-226 from the free end; the next,
nodes at 0-132 and 0-5 from the free end, and so on. The frequencies
are nearly in the ratios 1:6-25:17-5. Such bars are used in musical
boxes and as free reeds in organ pipes.
The most important example of this type is the tuning-fork,
which may be regarded as consisting of two parallel bars clamped
together at the base. The first overtone has frequency 6-25 that
of the fundamental, and is not in the harmonic series. If the
fork be mounted on a resonance box or held in front of a cavity
resounding to the fundamental and not to the first overtone, the
fundamental is brought out in great purity.
Vibrations of Plates. — These are for the most part interesting
rather from the point of view of elasticity than of sound. We shall
not attempt to deal with the theory here but shall describe only the
beautiful mode of exhibiting the regions of vibration and of rest
devised by E. F. F. Chladni (1756-1827). As usually arranged, a
thin metal plate is screwed on to the top of a firm upright post at
the centre of the plate, which is horizontal. White sand is lightly
scattered by a pepper-box over the plate. The plate is then bowed
at the edge and is thrown into vibration between nodal lines or curves
and the sand is thrown from the moving parts or ventral segments
into these lines, forming " Chladni's figures." The development of
these figures by a skilful bower is very fascinating. As in the case
of a musical string, so here we find that the pitch of the note is higher
for a given plate the greater the number of ventral segments into
which it is divided; but the converse of this does not hold good, two
different notes being obtainable with the same number of such
segments, the' position of the nodal lines being, however, different.
The upper line of annexed figures shows how the sand arranges
itself in three cases, when the plate is square. The lower line gives
the same in a sort of idealized form. Fig. 38, i, corresponds to the
FIG. 38.
lowest possible note of the particular plate used; fig. 38, 2, to the
fifth higher; fig. 38, 3, to the tenth or octave of the third, the numbers
of vibration in the same time being as 2 to 3 to 5.
If the plate be small, it is sufficient, in order to bring out the
simpler sand-figures, to hold the plate firmly between two fingers
of the same hand placed at any point where at least two nodal
lines meet, for instance the centre in (i) and (2), and to drawa violin
bow downwards across the edge near the middle of a ventral segment.
But with larger plates, which alone will furnish the more complicated
figures, a clamp-screw must be used for fixing the plate, and, at the
same time, one or more other nodal points ought to be touched with
the fingers while the bow is being applied. In this way, any of the
possible configurations may be easily produced.
By similar methods, a circular plate may be made to exhibit
nodal lines dividing the surface by diametral lines into four or a
greater, but always even, number of sectors, an odd number being
incompatible with the general law of stationary waves that the parts
of a body adjoining a nodal line on either side must always vibrate
oppositely to each other.
Another class of figures consists of circular nodal lines along
with diametral lines (fig. 39).
SOUND
[BELLS AND OTHER SOURCES
Circular nodal lines unaccompanied by intersecting lines cannot
be produced in the manner described; but may be got either by drill-
ing a small hole through the centre,
and drawing a horse-hair along its
edge to bring out the note, or by
attaching a long thin elastic rod to
the centre of the plate, at right
angles to it, holding the rod by the
•p middle and rubbing it lengthwise
39- with a bit of cloth powdered with
resin, till the rod gives a distinct note; the vibrations are com-
municated to the plate, which consequently vibrates transversely,
and causes the sand to heap itself into one or more concentric rings.
Paper, parchment, or any other thin membrane stretched over
a square, circular, &c., frame, when in the vicinity of a sufficiently
powerful vibrating body, will, through the medium of the air, be
itself made to vibrate in unison, and, by using sand, as in previous
instances, the nodal lines will be depicted to the eye, and seen to
vary in form, number and position with the tension of the plate and
the pitch of the originating sound. The membrana tympani or
drum of the ear, has, in like manner and on the same principles, the
property of repeating the vibrations of the external air which it
communicates to the internal parts of the ear.
Bells may be regarded as somewhat like circular plates vibrating
with radial nodes, and with the edges turned down. Lord Rayleigh
has shown that there is a tangential motion as well as a motion in
and out. Ordinarily when a bell is struck the impulse primarily
excites the radial motion, and the tangential motion follows as a
matter of course. When a finger-glass (an inverted bell), is excited
by passing the finger round the circumference, the tangential motion
is primarily excited and the radial follows it. Some discussion of
the vibrations of bells will be found in Rayleigh, Sound, vol. i.
ch. 10 (see also BELLS).
Singing Flames. — A " jet tube," i.e. a tube a few inches long with
a fine nozzle at the top, is mounted as 'in fig. 40, so as to rise out
of a vessel to which coal-gas, or, better, hydro-
gen, is supplied. The supply is regulated so
that when the gas is lighted the flame is half
or three-quarters of an inch high. A " sound-
ing tube," say an inch in diameter, and some-
what more than twice the length of the jet tube,
is then lowered over the flame, as in the figure.
When the flame is at a certain distance within
the tube the air is set in vibration, and the
sounding tube gives out its fundamental note
continuously. The flame aopears to lengthen,
but if the reflection is viewed in a vertical
mirror revolving about a vertical axis or in
Koenig s cube of mirrors, it is seen that the
flame is really intermittent, jumping upland
down once with each vibration, sometimes
•f apparently going within the jet tube at its
lowest point. For a given jet tube there is
a position of maximum efficiency easily ob-
\tained by trial. The jet tube, for a reason
which will be given when we consider the
maintenance of vibrations, must be less than
On, half the length of the sounding tube.
1 Supoif ^ series of pipes of lengths to give any
FIG. 40. — Singing desired series of notes may be arranged. If
Flame. two tubes in unison are employed, a pretty
example of resonance may be obtained. One
is adjusted so as just not to sing. The other is then made to
sing and frequently the first will be set singing also.
Sensitive Flames and Jets. — When a flame is just not flaring, any
one of a certain range of notes sounded near it may make it
flare while the note is sounding. This was first noticed by John
Le Conte (Phil. Mag., 1858, 15, p. 235), and later by W. F. Barrett
(Phil. Mag., 1867, 33, p. 216). Barrett found that the best form of
burner for ordinary gas pressure might be made of glass tubing
about f in. in diameter contracted to an orifice fa inch in diameter,
the orifice being nicked by a pair of scissors into a V-shape. The
flame rises up from the burner in a long thin column, but when an
appropriate note is sounded it suddenly drops down and thickens.
Barrett further showed by using smoke jets that the flame is not
essential. John Tyndall (Sound, lecture vi. § 7 seq.) describes
a number of beautiful experiments with jets at higher pressure than
ordinary, say 10 in. of water, issuing from a pinhole steatite
burner. The flame may be 16 in. high, and on receiving a
suitably high sound it suddenly drops down and roars. The sensi-
tive point is at the orifice. Lord Rayleigh (Sound, ii. § 370), using
as a source a " bird-call," a whistle of high frequency, formed a series
of stationary waves by reflection at a flat surface. Placing the
sensitive flame at different parts of this train, he found that it was
excited, not at the nodes where the pressure varied, but at the loops
where the motion was the greatest and where there was little pressure
change. In his Sound (ii. ch. 21) he has given a theory of the
sensitiveness. When the velocity of the jet is gradually increased
there is a certain range of velocity for which the jet is unstable,
so that any deviation from the straight rush-out tends to increase
as the jet moves up. If then the jet is just on the point of insta-
bility, and is subjected as its base to alternations of motion, the
sinuosities impressed on the jet become larger and larger as it flows
out, and the flame is as it were folded on itself. Another form of
sensitive jet is very easily made by putting a piece of fine wire gauze
2 or 3 in. above a pinhole burner and igniting the gas above the
gauze. On adjusting the gas so that it burns in a thin column,
just not roaring, it is extraordinarily sensitive to some particular
range of notes, going down and roaring when a note is sounded. If
a tube be placed over such a flame it makes an excellent singing
tube. The flame of an incandescent gas mantle if turned low is
frequently sensitive to a certain range of notes. Such a flame may
jump down, for instance, to each tick of a neighbouring clock.
Savart's Liquid Jets. — If a jet of water issues at an angle to the
horizontal from a round pinhole orifice under a few inches pressure,
it travels out as an apparently smooth cylinder for a short distance,
and then breaks up into drops which travel at different rates, collide,
and scatter. But if a tuning-fork of appropriate frequency be set
vibrating with its stalk in contact with the holder of the pipe from
which the jet issues, the jet appears to go over in one continuous
thread. Intermittent illumination, however, with frequency equal
to that of the fork shows at once that the jet is really broken up
into drops, one for each vibration, and that these move over in a
steady procession. The cylindrical form of jet is unstable if its
length is more than IT times its diameter, and usually the irregular
disturbances it receives at the orifice go on growing, and ultimately
break it up irregularly into drops which go out at different rates.
But, if quite regular disturbances are impressed on the jet at intervals
of time which depend on the diameter and speed of outflow (they
must be somewhat more than x times its diameter apart), these
disturbances go on growing and break the stream up into equal
drops, which all move with the same velocity one after the other.
An excellent account of these and other jets is given in C. V. Boys'
Soap Bubbles, lecture iii.
Maintenance of Vibrations. — When a system is set vibrating and
left to itself, the vibration gradually dies away as the energy leaks
out either in the waves formed or through friction. In order that
the vibration may be maintained, a periodic force must be applied
either to aid the internal restoring force on the return journey, or
weaken it on the outgoing journey, or both. Thus if a pendulum
always receives a slight impulse in the direction of motion just about
the lowest point, this is equivalent to an increase of the restoring
force if received before passage through the lowest point, and to a
decrease if received after that passage, and in either case it tends
to maintain the swing. If the bob of the pendulum is iron, and if
a coil is placed just below the centre of swing, then, if a current passes
through the coil, while and only while the bob is moving towards
it, the vibration is maintained. If the current is on while the bob
is receding the vibration is checked. If it is always on it only acts
as if the value of gravity were increased, and does not help to
maintain or check the vibration, but merely to shorten the period.
In a common form of electrically maintained fork, the Electrically
fork is set horizontal with its prongs in a vertical Maintained
plane, and a small electro-magnet is fixed between por^
them. The circuit of the electro-magnet is made
and broken by .the vibration of the fork in different ways — say, by
a wire bridge attached to the lower prong which dips into and lifts
out of two mercury cups. The mercury level is so adjusted that the
circuit is just not made when the fork is at rest. When it is set
vibrating contact lasts during some part of the outward and some
part of the inward swing. But partly owing to the delay in making
contact through the carriage down of air on the contact piece, and
partly owing to the delay in establishing full current through self-
induction, the attracting force does not rise at once to its full value
in the outgoing journey, whereas in the return journey the mercury
tends to follow up the contact piece, and the full current continues
up to the instant of break. Hence the attracting force does more
work in the return journey than is done against it in the outgoing,
and the balance is available to increase the vibration.
In the organ pipe — as in the common whistle — a thin sheet of
air is forced through a narrow slit at the bottom of the embouchure
and impinges against the top edge, which is made very Qrfan plpe
sharp. The disturbance made at the commencement
of the blowing will no doubt set the air in the pipe vibrating in its
own natural period, just as any irregular air disturbance will set a
suspended body swinging in its natural period, but we are to con-
sider how the vibration is maintained when once set going. When
the motion due to the vibration is up along the pipe from the em-
bouchure, the air moves into the pipe from the outside, and carries
the sheet-like stream in with it to the inside of the sharp edge.
This stream does work on the air, aiding the motion. When the
motion is reversed and the air moves out of the pipe at the embou-
chure, the sheet is deflected on to the outer side of the sharp edge,
and no work is done against it by the air in the pipe. Hence the
stream of air does work during half the vibration and this is
not abstracted during the other half, and so it goes on increasing
the motion until the supply of energy in blowing is equal to the loss
by friction and sound.
INTERFERENCE]
SOUND
457
Singlag
Tube.
The maintenance of the vibration of the air in the singing tube
has been explained by Lord Rayleigh (Sound, vol. ii. § 322 h) as due
to the way in which the heat is communicated to the
vibrating air. When the air in a pipe open at both
ends is vibrating in its simplest mode, the air is
alternately moving into and out from the centre. During the
quarter swing ending with greatest nodal pressure, the kinetic
energy is changed to potential energy manifested in the increase of
pressure. This becomes again kinetic in the second quarter
swing, then in the third quarter it is changed to potential energy
again, but now manifested in the decrease of pressure. In the last
quarter it is again turned to the kinetic form. Now suppose that at
the end of the first quarter swing, at the instant of greatest pressure,
heat is suddenly given to the air. The pressure is further increased
and the potential energy is also increased. There will be more
kinetic energy formed in the return journey and the vibration tends
to grow. But if the heat is given at the instant of greatest rare-
faction, the increase of pressure lessens the difference from the un-
disturbed pressure, and lessens the potential energy, so that during
the return less kinetic energy is formed and the vibration tends to
die away. And what is true for the extreme points is true for the
half periods of which they are the middle points; that is, heat given
during the compression half aids the vibration, and during the
extension half damps it. Now let us apply this to the singing tube.
Let the gas jet tube be of somewhat less than half the length of the
singing tube, and let the lower end of the jet tube be in a wider tube
or cavity so that it may be regarded as an " open end." When the
air in the singing tube is singing, it forces the gas in the jet tube
to vibrate in the same period and in such phase that at the nozzle
the pressure in both tubes shall be the same. The lower end of the
jet tube, being open, is a loop, and the node may be regarded as
in an imaginary prolongation of the jet tube above the nozzle.
It is evident that the pressure condition will be fulfilled only if
the motions in the two tubes are in the same direction at the same
time, closing into and opening out from the nodes together. When
the motion is upwards gas is emitted ; when the motion is downwards
it is checked. The gas enters in the half period from least to greatest
pressure. But there is a slight delay in ignition, partly due to
expulsion of incombustible gas drawn into the jet tube in the previous
half period, so that the most copious supply of gas and heat is thrown
into the quarter period just preceding greatest pressure, and the
vibration is maintained. If the jet tube is somewhat longer than
half the sounding tube there will be a node in it, and now the condi-
tion of equality of pressure requires opposite motions in the two
at the nozzle, for their nodes are situated on opposite sides of
that point. The heat communication is then chiefly in the quarter
vibration just preceding greatest rarefaction, and the vibration is
not maintained.
Interference of Sound.
When two trains of sound waves travel through the same
medium, each particle of the air, being simultaneously affected
by the disturbances due to the different waves, moves in a
different manner than it would if only acted on by each wave
singly. The waves are said mutually to interfere. We shall
exemplify this subject by considering the case of two waves
travelling in the same direction through the air. We shall then
obviously be led to the following results: —
If the two waves are of equal length X, and are in the same
phase (that is, each producing at any given moment the same
,»•—»,. .-•"•«.. state of motion in the
air particles), their com-
bined effect is equivalent
to that of a wave of the
same length X, but by
which the excursions
of the particles are
increased, being the
sum of those due to the
two component waves
FIG. 41.
respectively, as in fig. 41, i.
If the two interfering waves, being still of same length X, be
in opposite phases, or so that one is in advance of the other by
iX, and consequently one produces in the air the opposite state
of motion to the other, then the resultant wave is one of the
same length X, but the excursions of the particles are decreased,
being the difference between those due to the component waves
as in fig. 41, 2. If the amplitudes of vibration which thus
mutually interfere are moreover equal, the effect is the total
mutual destruction of the vibratory motion.
FIG. 42.
Thus we learn that two musical notes, of the same pitch,
conveyed to the ear through the air, will produce the effect of
a single note of the same pitch, but of increased loudness, if
they are in the same phase, but may affect the ear very slightly,
if at all, when in opposite phases. If the difference of phase
be varied gradually from zero to^X, the resulting sound will
2
gradually decrease from a maximum to a minimum.
Among the many experimental confirmations which may be
adduced of these proportions we will mention the following: —
Take a circular plate, such as is available for the production of
Chladni's figures, and cut out of a sheet of pasteboard a piece of the
shape ABOCD (fig. 42), consisting of two
circular quadrants of the same diameter as
the plate. Let, now, the plate be made
in the usual manner to vibrate so as to
exhibit two nodal lines coinciding with
two rectangular diameters. If the ear
be placed right above the centre of the
plate, the sound will be scarcely audible.
But, if the pasteboard be interposed so as
to intercept the vibrating segments AOB,
DOC, the note becomes much more dis-
tinct. The reason of this is, that the
segments of the plate AOD, BOC always
vibrate in the same direction, but oppo-
sitely to the segments AOB, DOC. Hence, when the pasteboard
is in its place, there are two waves of same phase starting from
the two former segments, and reaching the ear after equal distances
of transmission through the air, are again in the same phase, and
produce on the ear a conjunct impression. But when the paste-
board is removed, then there is at the ear opposition of phase
between the first and the second pair of waves, and consequently
a minimum of sound.
A tubular piece of wood shaped as in fig. 43, and having a piece
of thin membrane stretched over the opening at the top C, some
dry sand being strewn over the membrane, is so
placed over a circular or rectangular vibrating
plate that the ends A, B lie over the segments of
the plate, such as AOD, COB in the previous figure,
which are in the same state of motion. The sand
at C will be set in violent movement. But if the
same ends A, B be placed over oppositely vibrating
segments (such as AOD, COD), the sand will be
scarcely, if at all, affected.
If a tuning-fork in vibration be turned round
before the ear, four positions will be found in which
it will be inaudible, owing to the mutual interference
of the oppositely vibrating prongs of the fork. On
interposing the hand between the ear and either prong of the fork
when in one of those positions, the sound becomes audible, because
then one of the two interfering waves is cut off from the ear. This
experiment may be varied by holding the fork over a glass jar
into which water is poured to such a depth that the air-column
within reinforces the note of the fork when suitably placed, and then
turning the fork round.
Helmholtz's double siren is well calculated for the investigation
of the laws of interference of sound. For this purpose a simple
mechanism is found in the instrument, by means of which the fixed
upper plate can be turned round and placed in any position relatively
to the lower one. If, now, the apparatus be so set that the notes
from the upper and lower chest are in unison, the upper fixed
plate may be placed in four positions, such as to cause the air-current
to be cut off in the one chest at the exact instant when it is freely
passing through the other, and vice versa. The two waves, therefore,
being in opposite phases, neutralize one another, and the result
is a faint sound. On turning round the upper chest into any inter-
mediate position, the intensity of the sound will increase up to a
maximum, which occurs when the air in both chests is being admitted
and cut off contemporaneously.
If two organ pipes in unison are mounted side by side on a wind-
chest with their ends close together, and are. blown for a very short
time, they sound. But if the blowing is continued, usually in less
than a second the sound dies away to a small fraction of that due to
either alone. Yet the air within the pipes is vibrating more vigor-
ously than ever, but in opposite phases in the two pipes. This may
be shown by furnishing the pipes with manometric flames placed in
the same vertical line. When the flames are viewed in a revolving
mirror and the pipes are blown, each image of one flame lies between
two images of the other. The essential fact, as pointed out by
Lord Rayleigh (Scientific Papers, i. 409), is not the common wind
chest, but the nearness of the open ends, so that the outrush from
one pipe can supply the inrush to the other, and the converse. If,
the two pipes are slightly out of tune when sounded separately
together they sound a common note which may be higher than that
due to either alone. Lord Rayleigh (loc. cit.) points out that this
FIG. 43.
458
SOUND
[BEATS
is due to reduction of the end correction. When the air rushes
out from one pipe, it has not to force its way into the open air, but
finds a cavity being prepared for it close at hand in the other pipe,
and so the extensions and compressions at the ends are more easily
reduced. Even the longer pipe may be effectively shorter than the
corrected shorter pipe when sounding alone.
Beats.
When two notes are not quite in unison the resulting sound
is found to alternate between a maximum and minimum of
loudness recurring periodically. To these periodical alternations
has been given the name of Beats. Their origin is easily explic-
able. Suppose the two notes to correspond to 200 and 203
vibrations per second; at some instant of time, the air particles,
through which the waves are passing, will be similarly displaced
by both, and consequently the joint effect will be a sound of
some intensity. But, after this, the first or less rapidly vibrating
note will fall behind the other, and cause a diminution in the
joint displacements of the particles, till, after the lapse of one-
sixth of a second, it will have fallen behind the other by half a
vibration. At this moment, therefore, opposite displacements will
be produced of the air particles by the two notes, and the sound
due to them will be at a minimum. This will be followed by
an increase of intensity until the lapse of another sixth of a
second, when the less rapidly vibrating note will have lost
another half-vibration relatively to the other, or one vibration
reckoning from the original period of time, and the two com-
ponent vibrations will again conspire and reproduce a maximum
effect. Thus, an interval of one-third of a second elapses
between two successive maxima or beats, and there are pro-
duced three beats per second. By similar reasoning it may
be shown that the number of beats per second is always equal
to the difference between the numbers of vibrations in the same
time corresponding to the two interfering notes. The more,
therefore, these are out of tune the more rapidly will the beats
follow each other.
The formation of beats may be illustrated by considering the
disturbance at any point due to two trains of waves of equal ampli-
tude a and of nearly equal frequencies ni n?. If we measure the
time from an instant at which the two are in the same phase the
resultant disturbance is
y = a sin 2rn\t+a sin 2-rnit
= 20 cos ir(«i— ni)t sin
which may be regarded as a harmonic disturbance of frequency
(ni-\-ni)/2 but with amplitude 2a cos ir(ni—n2)t slowly varying with
the time. Taking the squares of the amplitude to represent the
intensity or loudness of the sound which would be heard by an
ear at the point, this is
4c" gives nearly twice as many beats and is not nearly
so dissonant. The minor third a'c" with 88 beats per second shows
scarcely any roughness, and when the beats rise to 132 per second
the result is no longer unpleasant.
We are then led to conclude that beats are the physical founda-
tion for dissonance. The frequency of beats giving maximum
dissonance rises as we rise higher in the musical scale, and falls
as we descend. Thus b"c'" and b'\>c" have each 66 beats per second,
yet the former is more dissonant than the latter. Again b'c" and
CG have each 33 beats per second, yet the latter interval is practi-
cally smooth and consonant. This beat theory of dissonance was
first put forward by Joseph Sauveur (1653-1716) in 1700. Robert
Smith (Harmonics, 2nd ed., 1759, p. 95) states that Sauveur " in-
ferred that octaves and other simple concords, whose vibrations
coincide very often, are agreeable and pleasant because their beats
are too quick to be distinguished, be the pitch of the sounds ever so
low; and on the contrary, that the more complex consonances
whose vibrations coincide seldom are disagreeable because we can
distinguish their slow beats; which displease the ear, says he, by
reason of the inequality of the sound. And in pursuing this thought
he found that those consonances which beat faster than six times
in a second are the very same that musicians treat as concords;
and that others which beat slower are the discords; and he adds that
when a consonance is a discord at a low pitch and a concord at a
high one, it beats sensibly at the former pitch but not at the latter."
But Sauveur fixed the limiting number of beats for the discord
far too low, and again he gave no account of dissonances such as the
seventh, where the frequency of the beats between the funda-
mentals is far beyond the number which is unpleasant. Smith,
though recognizing the unpleasantness of beats, could not accept
Sauveur's theory, and, indeed, it received no acceptance till it was
rediscovered by Helmholtz, to whose investigations, recorded in
his Sensations of Tone, we owe its satisfactory establishment.
Suppose that we start with two simple tones in unison; there is
perfect consonance. If one is gradually raised in pitch beating
begins, at first easily countable. But as the pitch of the one rises
the beats become a jar too frequent to count, and only perhaps
to a trained ear recognizable as beats. The two tones are now
dissonant, and, as we have seen, about the middle of the scale the
maximum dissonance is when there are between 30 and 40 beats per
second. If the pitch is raised still further the dissonance lessens,
and when there are about 130 beats per second the interval is con-
sonant. If all tones were pure, dissonance at this part of the scale
would not occur if the interval were more than a third. But we
have to remember that with strings, pipes and instruments gener-
ally the fundamental tone is accompanied by overtones, called also
" upper partials," and beating within the dissonance range may
occur between these overtones.
Thus, suppose a fundamental 256 has present with it overtone
harmonics 512, 768, 1024, 1280, &c., and that we sound with it
the major seventh with fundamental 480, and having harmonics
960, 1440, &c. The two sets may be arranged thus
c 256 512 768 1024 1280
b 480 960 1440,
and we see that the fundamental of the second will beat 32 times
per second with the first overtone of the first, giving dissonance.
The first overtone of the second will beat 64 times per second with
the third of the first, and at such height in the scale this frequency
will be unpleasant. The very marked dissonance of the major
seventh is thus explained. We can see, too, at once how the octave
is such a smooth consonance. Let the two tones with their harmonic
overtones be
256 512 768 1024 1280 1536
512 1024 1536.
The fundamental and overtones of the second all coincide with
overtones of the first.
Take as a further example the fifth with harmonic overtones as
under
1024 1280 1536
256 512 768
384
768
1152
1536.
BEATS]
SOUND
459
The fundamental and overtones of the second either coincide with
or fall midway between overtones in the first, and there is no
approach to a dissonant frequency of beats, and the concord is
perfect.
But obviously in either the octave or the fifth, if the tuning is
imperfect, beats occur all along the line wherever the tones should
coincide with perfect tuning. Thus it is easy to detect a want ol
tuning in these intervals.
The harshness of deep notes on instruments rich in overtones
may be explained as arising from beats between successive over-
tones. Thus, if a note of frequency 64 is sounded, and if all the
successive overtones are present, the difference of frequency will
be 64, and this is an unpleasant interval when we get to the middle
of the scale, say to overtones 256 and 320 or to 512 and 576. Thu
Helmholtz explains the jarring and braying which are sometimes
heard in bass voices. These cases must serve to illustrate the
theory. For a full discussion see his Sensations of Tone, ch. 10.
Dissonance between Pure Tones. — When two sources emit only pure
tones we might expect that we should have no dissonance when, as
in the major seventh, the beat frequency is greater than the range
of harshness. But the interval is still dissonant, and this is to be
explained by the fact that the two tones unite to give a third tone of
the frequency of the beats, easily heard when the two primary
tones are loud. This tone may be within dissonance range of one
of the primaries. Thus, take the major seventh with frequencies
256 and 480. There will be a tone frequency 480—256 = 224, and
this will be very dissonant with 256.
The tone of the frequency of the beats was discovered by Georg
Andreas Sorge in 1740, and independently a few years later by
Giuseppe Tartini, after whom it is named. It may easily be heard
when a double whistle with notes of different pitch is blown strongly,
or when two gongs are loudly sounded close to the hearer. It is heard,
too, when two notes on the harmonium are loudly sounded. For-
merly it was generally supposed that the Tartini tone was due to
the beats themselves, that the mere variation in the amplitude
was equivalent, as far as the ear is concerned, to a superposition
on the two original tones of a smooth sine displacement of the same
periodicity as that variation. This view has still some supporters,
and among its recent advocates are Koenig and Hermann. But
it is very difficult to suppose that the same sensation would be
aroused by a truly periodic displacement represented by a smooth
curve, and a displacement in which the period is only in the amplitude
of the to-and-fro motion, and which is represented by a jagged
curve. No explanation is given by the supposition; it is merely a
statement which can hardly be accepted unless all other explana-
tions fail.
Combination Tones. — Helmholtz has given a theory which certainly
accounts for the production of a tone of the frequency of the beats
and for other tones all grouped under the name of " combination
tones "; and in his Sensations of Tone (ch. n) he examines the beats
due to these combination tones and their effects in producing
dissonance. The example we have given above of the major seventh
must serve here. The reader is referred to the full discussion by
Helmholtz. We shall conclude by a brief account of the ways
in which combination tones may be produced. There appears
to be no doubt that they are produced, and the only question is
whether the theory accounts sufficiently for the intensity of the
tones actually heard.
Combination tones may be produced in three ways: (i) In the
neighbourhood of the source; (2) in the receiving mechanism of
the ear; (3) in the medium conveying the waves.
I. We may illustrate the first method by taking a case dis-
cussed by Helmholtz (Sensations of Tone, app. xvi.) where the
two sources are reeds or pipes blown from the same wind-chest.
Let us suppose that with constant excess of pressure, p, in the
wind-chest, the amplitude produced is proportional to the pressure,
so that the two tones issuing may be represented by pa sin 2-irnit
and pb sin 2irnd. Now as each source lets out the wind periodi-
cally it affects the pressure in the chest so that we cannot re-
gard this as constant, but may take it as better represented by
p+Xa sin (2irnit+e)+nb sin (2Trn2t+f). Then the issuing dis-
turbance will be
jp + Xa sin (2irntt+e}+iJ> sin (2irn2< +/) | (a sin 2irn,t+b sin 2«i2<|
= pa sin 2irnit+pb sin 2irntt
. a*X a'X
+ — cos e — — cos (4irn,t+e)
+ --J- cos/ — j^ cos (4)rw2<+/)
^j- cos J2ir(«,-n2)<-|-ej-2j- cos \2*(ni-\-nl)t+e\
abn , . ., abu
— cos \2ir(ni-n,)t-f\ —cos |2jr(ni+n2)<+/)
(35)
Thus, accompanying the two original pure tones there are (i) the
octave of each; (2) a tone of frequency (HI — n2); (3) a tone of
frequency (ni+n2). The second is termed by Helmholtz the
difference tone, and the third the summation tone. The amplitudes of
these tones are proportional to the products of a and b multiplied
by X or /». These combination tones will in turn react on the
pressure and produce new combination tones with the original
tones, or with each other, and such tones may be termed of the
second, third, &c., order. It is evident that we may have tones of
frequency
A»i kn-t hni — ktH h
where h and k are any integers. But inasmuch as the successive
orders are proportional to X X2 X3, or ^ if jt3, and X and M are small,
they are of rapidly decreasing importance, and it is not certain
that any beyond those in equation (35) correspond to our actual
sensations. The combination tones thus produced in the source
should have a physical existence in the air, and the amplitudes
of those represented in (35) should be of the same order. The
conditions assumed in this investigation are probably nearly realized
in a harmonium and in a double siren of the form used'by Helmholtz,
and in these cases there can be no doubt that actual objective tones
are produced, for they may be detected by the aid of resonators of
the frequency of the tone sought for. If the tones had no existence
outside the ear then resonators would not increase their loudness.
There is not much difficulty in detecting the difference tone by
a resonator if it is held, say, close to the reeds of a harmonium,
and Helmholtz succeeded in detecting the summation tone by the
aid of a resonator. Further, Riicker and Edser, using a siren as
source, have succeeded in making a fork of the appropriate pitch
respond to both difference and summation tones (Phil. Mag.,
l^95< 39, P- 341- But there is no doubt that it is very difficult
to detect the summation tone by the ear, and many workers have
doubted the possibility, notwithstanding the evidence of such an
observer as Helmholtz. Probably the fact noted by Mayer (Phil.
Mag., 1878, 2, p. 500, or Rayleigh, Sound, § 386) that sounds of
considerable intensity when heard by themselves are liable to be
completely obliterated by graver sounds of sufficient force goes
far to explain this, for the summation tones are of course always
accompanied by such graver sounds.
2. The second mode of production of combination tones, by
the mechanism of the receiver, is discussed by Helmholtz (Sensa-
tions of Tone, App. xii.) and Rayleigh (Sound, i. § 68). It depends
on the restoring force due to the displacement of the receiver not
being accurately proportional to the displacement. This want of
proportionality will have a periodicity, that of the impinging waves,
and so will produce vibrations just as does the variation of pressure
in the case last investigated. We may see how this occurs by-
supposing that the restoring force of the receiving mechanism is
represented by Xx+^x2, where x is the displacement and to? is
very small. Let an external force F act on the system, and for
simplicity suppose its period is so great compared with that of the
mechanism that we may take it as practically in equilibrium with
the restoring force. Then F = \x+nx2. Now /a? is very small
compared with \x, so that x is nearly equal to F/X, and as an approx-
imation, F = Xx+MF2/X2, or x = F/X-AiF2/X3. Suppose now
that F = a sin 2irnit+b sin 2iw2<, the second term will evidently
produce a series of combination tones of periodicities 2n\, 2n?,
ni — n2, and ni+n2, as in the first method. There can be no
doubt that the ear is an unsymmetrical vibrator, and that it makes
combination tones, in some such way as is here indicated, out of two
pure tones. Probably in most cases the combination tones which we
hear are thus made, and possibly, too, the tones detected by Koenig,
and by him named " beat-tones." He found that if two tones of
frequencies p and q are sounded, and if q lies between N/> and
(N + i)p, then a tone of frequency either (N + i)p — q, or of
frequency q-Np, is heard. The difficulty in Helmholtz s theory-
is to account for the audibility of such beat tones when they are
of a higher order than the first. Riicker and Edser quite failed to
detect their external existence, so that apparently they are not
produced in the source. If we are to assume that the tones received
by the ear are pure and free from partials, the loudness ot the beat-
tones would appear to show that Helmholtz's theory is not a
complete account.
3- The third mode of production of combination tones, the pro-
duction in the medium itself, follows from the varying velocity
of different parts of the wave, as investigated at the beginning of
this article. It is easily shown that after a time we shall have
to superpose on the original displacement a displacement propor-
tional to the square of the particle velocity, and this will intro-
duce just the same set of combination tones. But probably in
practice there is not a sufficient interval between source and hearer
For these tones to grow into any importance, and they can at most
be only a small addition to those formed in the source or the ear.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. — For the history of experimental and theoretical
acoustics see F. Rosenberger, Geschichte der Physik (1882-1890);
J. C. Poggendorff, Geschichte der Physik (1879) ; and E. Gerland and
F. Traumuller, Geschichte der physikalischen Experimentierkunst
(1899). The standard treatise on the mathematical theory is Lord
Rayleigh's Theory of Sound (2nd ed., 1894); this work also contains
an account of experimental verifications. The same author's
Scientific Papers contains many experimental and mathematical
contributions to the science. H. von Helmholtz treats the theoretical
aspects of sound in his Vorlesungen iiber die mathematischtn
460
SOUND, THE— SOUNDING
Principien der Akustik (1898), and the physiological and psychical
aspects in his Die Lehre von den Tonempfindungen (ist ed., 1863;
5th ed., 1896), English translation by A. J. Ellis, On the Sensations
of Tone (1885). Sedley Taylor, Sound and Music (1882), contains
a simple and excellent account of Helmholtz's theory of consonance
and dissonance. R. Koenig, Quelques experiences d'acoustique (1882)
describes apparatus and experiments, intended to show, in op-
position to Helmholtz, that beats coalesce into tones, and also that
the quality of a note is affected by alteration of phase of one of its
component overtones relative to the phase of the fundamental.
Lamb, The Dynamical Theory of Sound (1910), is intended as a
stepping-stone to the study of the writings of Helmholtz and Rayleigh.
Barton, A Text-Book on Sound (1908), aims to provide students with
a text-book on sound, embracing both its experimental and theore-
tical aspects. J. H. Poynting and J. J. Thomson, Sound (sth ed.,
1909), contains a descriptive account of the chief phenomena, and
an elementary mathematical treatment. John Tyndall, Sound (5th
ed., 1893), originally delivered as lectures, treats the subject descrip-
tively, and is illustrated by a large number of excellent experiments.
Good general accounts are given in J. L. G. Violle, Cours de physique,
tome ii., " Acoustique " ; A. Winkelmann, Handbuch der Physik,
Band ii., "Akustik1'; Miiller-Pouillet, Lehrbuch der Physik (1907),
ii. i; L. A. Zellner, Vortrage uber Akustik (1892), pt. I, physical;
pt. 2, physiological; R. Klimpert, Lehrbuch der Akustik (1904-
1907) ; A. Wiillner, Lehrbuch der Experimentalphysik (1907), 6th ed.,
vol. i.; and C. L. Barnes, Practical Acoustics (1898), treats the
subject experimentally. (J. H. P.)
SOUND, THE (Danish Oresund), the easternmost of the straits
giving entrance to the Baltic Sea from the Cattegat, between
the Danish island of Zealand and Sweden. Its extreme length
reckoned from the promontory of Kullen to that of Falsterbo,
both on the Swedish shore, is 70 m. Its narrowest point is
between Helsingor in Denmark and Helsingborg in Sweden,
which are 3 m. apart. Its extreme width, 30 m.,is towards
the south, where Kjoge Bay indents the coast of Zealand. Three
islands lie in it — Hven, belonging to Sweden, and Saltholm and
Amager (which is separated from Zealand by a narrow channel
at Copenhagen), belonging to Denmark. The strait between
Amager and Saltholm is called Drogden, and is followed by the
larger vessels passing through the Sound. The extreme depth
of the Sound is about 14 fathoms. Navigation is open in winter,
though three instances are recorded of the Sound being
frozen completely over: in 1306, 1830 and 1836. From the
i Sth century Denmark levied " Sound dues " on foreign vessels
passing through the strait, the Hanse traders and certain others
being exempt. In the I7th century quarrels arose on this
matter between Denmark and the Netherlands and Sweden,
while in modern times the powers found the dues irksome,
and in 1843 and 1853 protests were made by the
representatives of the United States of America,
but Denmark based her right on immemorial cus-
tom, and adhered to it. In 1856 the matter came
up in connexion with the renewal of the treaty of
1826 between the two countries; considerable tension
resulted, and the possibility of reprisals by the
United States against the Danish possessions in the
West Indies was discussed. But the treaty was
provisionally extended to the following year, and
a conference in Copenhagen, at which most of the
affected powers were represented, resulted in the
remission of the dues from the ist of April 1857,
Denmark receiving a united compensation of
30,476,325 rix-dollars (equalling about £4,000,000),
out of which the amount paid by the British
government was £1,125,000. The annual income
accruing to Denmark from the dues during the ten
previous years had been about 2, 500,000 rix-dollars.
SOUNDING (for derivation see SOUND above),
the term used for measuring .the depth of water (From Wharton's nongraphic Sumy.)
The operation of sounding is readily performed in shallow
water by letting down a weight or " lead " attached to a cord,
which is marked off into fathoms by pieces of leather, rag and
twine. The bottom of the weight usually presents' a hollow,
which is filled with tallow, so that a portion of the material
from the bottom may be brought up and give an indication
of its nature as well as an assurance that it has really been
touched.
For depths over 20 fathoms sounding machines are often
employed, and for deep soundings they are practically indispen-
sable. In them wire, the use of which for this purpose was
introduced by Sir William Thomson (Lord Kelvin), has entirely
superseded hemp gear. Its smooth surface and minute section,
reducing friction to a minimum, give a rapidity of descent of
about 100 fathoms per minute, and this velocity is not materially
diminished even at great depths. Reeling in may be accom-
plished at nearly the same rate. Soundings are thus obtained
with a degree of accuracy not formerly possible. The apparatus
is light, compact and automatic in its action. Soundings
with wire can be carried out at night with the same facility as in
daytime, and in almost any circumstances of wind and -weather
short of a strong gale, against which the ship could not steam or
face the sea. A sounding of 1000 fathoms may be obtained in
twenty-five minutes from the time the weight is lowered to the
time the order is given to put the ship on her course, or in half
that time if sounding from astern and going ahead on getting
bottom; 2000 fathoms will require forty-five minutes and 3000
fathoms seventy-five minutes. Beyond that depth, much
greater caution being required, the time occupied is correspon-
dingly increased, and reeling in must then be done very deliber-
ately. A sounding of 5269 fathoms was obtained near the island
of Guam by the U.S. cable-surveying ship "Nero." Soundings
at such depths may occupy as long as five or six hours.
Among the sounding machines in general use the Lucas
carries nearly 6000 fathoms of 2o-gauge wire, and is fitted with
two brakes — one a screw brake for holding the reel
when required, the other an automatic brake for
stopping the reel when the weights strike the bottom.
A gvtider for the purpose of winding the wire uniformly on to
the reel is also attached, and is worked by a small handle. After
leaving the reel the wire passes over a registering wheel, the
dial of which indicates the amount of wire run out. Similar
machines of smaller size are supplied for use in boats. The large
machine is represented in fig. i.
Lucas
Machine.
(and so, figuratively, of anything). Tbe process
of ascertaining the depth of the sea has been
practised from very early times for purposes of
navigation, but it is only since the introduction of
submarine telegraphy that extensive efforts have
been made to obtain a complete knowledge of the
contour of the ocean-bed (see OCEAN).
FIG. I. — Lucas Machine.
A, Reel or drum. H, Measuring wheel.
B, Brake. J. Indicator.
C, Brake lever. K, Stop.
D, Springs. L, Wire guiding roller.
E, Regulating screw. M, Handle for working roller.
F, Hand wheel. N, Bolt.
G, Swivelling frame. O, Screw Brake.
SOUNDING
461
Heaving in is accomplished by means of a hemp " swifter " or
driving belt, which conveys the motion of the drum of a donkey
engine to the drum carrying the wire of the sounding machine.
It being impracticable to regulate the speed of the engine by hand
according to the heave of the ship, in order to obviate the sudden
and excessive strains on the wire so caused, an ingenious mechanical
arrangement has been fitted by which frictional disks, geared by
cog-wheels and capable of adjustment are interposed on the axle
connecting the grooved wheel actuated by the nemp swifter and
the revolving drum carrying the wire. By this arrangement the
latter can be controlled as desired, both in speed and direction
of motion, by means of a lever regulating the strap on the frictional
disks, which may be set by experiment to act at any given tension
of the wire. As the tension approaches this limit, the velocity of
revolution of the drum is automatically checked ; and if the tension
further increases, the motion of the drum is actually reversed,
thus causing the wire to run out, until the tension is. relieved
sufficiently to allow the frictional disks again to act in the
direction of heaving in. The drum may be stopped instantly by
moving the lever in the proper direction to throw the apparatus
out of gear.
Galvanized-steel wire of 2O-gauge and 21 -gauge is supplied on
drums in lengths of 5000 fathoms. The 2O-gauge wire when new
has a breaking strain of 240 Ib, and the smaller wire 190 Ib. The
large machines will hold sufficient quantity of the larger wire for
the deepest soundings; there is therefore no longer any necessity
for the smaller wire, and its use is not recommended. The zinc
wears off to a considerable extent with constant use ; it is necessary
do pass the wire through an oily wad whenever soundings are
suspended for a time, and the surface layers on the drum should be
kept well coated with oil and covered over with oily waste. A
fortnight's continuous use is about the limit to the trustworthiness
of any piece of wire ; no amount of care will prevent it from becoming
brittle ; and directly it can be snapped by twisting in the hand, it
should be condemned and passed on to the boats' machines. A
magnifying glass will assist in examining its condition. Taut and
even winding on the reel from the drum is most important ; otherwise,
when heaving up after a sounding, the strain forces each layer as it
comes in to sink down amongst the previous layers loosely reeled
on, with the result that at the next sounding slack turns will sud-
denly develop on running out, to the great risk of the wire. The
wire is liable to cut grooves in the interior of the swivelling frame;
a file must constantly be applied to smooth these down, or they will
rip the splices. A roller of hard steel, underneath which wire
passes, and which placed in rear of the swivelling frame, obviates
this to a great extent.
Splices are made about 5 ft. in length, one wire being laid round
the other in a long spiral of about one turn per inch. _ A seizing
of fine wire is laid over each end and for 2 or 3 in. up the
splice, no end being allowed to project, and solder is then applied
the whole length of the splice. Three more seizings should be placed
at intervals. Splices are the weakest parts of the wire, and their
multiplication is to be avoided. They should be frequently
examined and their position noted, so that in heaving in they
may be eased round the wheel with the guider nearly in the centre,
to avoid tearing.
Under 1000 fathoms a lead of 30 to 40 Ib weight can be
recovered, and no detaching rod is necessary. At a little risk
Sounding to the wire, when sounding from astern up to that
Rods and depth, the ship may go ahead directly bottom is
sinkers. struck, increasing speed as the wire comes in; the
great saving in time thus effected will often justify the increased
risk of parting the wire. For greater depths the " Driver
rod" is the best detaching apparatus for slipping the sinkers;
its construction is easier than that of the " Baillie rod," and
with a piece of gas piping cut to the proper length the ship's
blacksmith can make one in a day. Both rods are fitted with
tubes to bring up a specimen of the bottom, and the same
sinkers fit them both.
The " Driver rod " is shown in fig. 2. ABC is a tube about 2 ft.
in length, fitted at the top with a flap valve D, working on a hinge at
E. The lower part of the tube C screws on and off, and contains a
double flap valve to retain the bottom specimen. The sinkers WW,
each 25 Ib in weight, conical in form, and pierced with a cylindrical
hole through which the Driver rod passes loosely, are slung by
wire or cod line secured to a flat ring or grummet shown at L
and passing over the stud G. A stud K on each side of the tube
fits loosely into the slot H in the lower part of the slipping lever
MH. The weight of the apparatus being taken by the sounding
wire, the sinkers remain suspended; but on striking the bottom,
the wire slackens, and the weight of the sinkers drags the slip-
ping lever down till the stud K bears against the upper part of the
slot H. By this action the point M of the slipping lever is
brought to bear against the upper end of the standard EF, being
thereby forced outward sufficiently to ensure that the weight
acting at the point G will tilt the slipping lever right over, and thus
disengage the sling. The tube being then drawn up, the sinkers are
left behind. In descending, the valves
at top and bottom, opening upwards,
allow the water to pass through freely ;
but on drawing up they are closed,
thus retaining the plug of mud with
which the tube is filled. For water
under 2000 fathoms two conical
weights are sufficient. In deeper
water a third cylindrical weight of
20 Ib should be put between them. It
is important to interpose a piece of
hemp line, some 10 fathoms long,
between the end of the wire (into
which a thimble is seized) and the
lead or rod. This tends to prevent
the wire from kinking on the lead
striking the bottom. A piece of sheet
lead, about 2 Ib in weight, wrapped
round the hemp just below the junction,
keeps the wire taut while the hemp
slacks. Small brass screw stoppers,
fitted with a hempen tail to secure
to a cleat, hold the wire during the
sounding if necessary to repair splices
or clear slack turns. In heaving in
the springs are replaced with a spring
balance, by which the amount of
strain is seen and the deck engine
worked accordingly. A system of
signals is required by day and by
night, by which the officer superin-
tending the sounding can control the
helm, main engines and deck engine.
Method of Sounding. — The machine
is placed on a projecting platform
on the forecastle. An endless hemp
swifter, led through blocks with large
sheaves, connects the sounding ma-
chine and deck engine, and when
heaving in is kept taut by a snatch
block set up with a jigger. As the
wire runs out, the regulating screw of
the brake must be gradually screwed
up, so as to increase the power of
the brake in proportion to the amount
of wire out. The regulating screw
is marked for each 500 fathoms.
In fairly smooth water the brake
FIG. 2. — Driver Rod.
will at once act when the weight strikes the bottom and the
reel stops. Under 3000 fathoms one spring only is sufficient, but
beyond that depth two springs are required. If the ship is pitching
heavily, the automatic brake must be assisted by the screw brake
to ensure the reel not overrunning. The marks on the regulating
screw are only intended as a guide; the real test is that the brake
is just on the balance, so as to act when the strain lessens, which
may be known by the swivelling frame being just lifted off the
stop. As the wire weighs 1\ ft for each 500 fathoms, the 500-
fathoms mark on the screw should be at the position in which
the screw has to be to sustain a weight of 7j Ib; the looo-fathoms
mark, 15 ft; and so on. This can be tested and the marks verified.
Handling the Ship. — Sounding from forward enables the ship to
be handled with greater ease to keep the wire up and down, and
especially so in a tide- way; but in very heavy weather soundings
may be obtained from a machine mounted over the stern, when it
would be quite impossible to work on the forecastle. The spanker
must be set with the sheet to windward, unless a strong weather
tide renders it undesirable ; the ship's head must be kept in a direction
which is the resultant of the direction and force of the wind and
current; and this is arrived at by altering the course while sounding,
point by point, until the wire can be kept up and down by moving
the engines slowly ahead as necessary. It should seldom, or never,
be necessary to move the engines astern.
The temperature of the water is usually taken at intervals of
loo fathoms down to a depth of 1000 fathoms, and at closer intervals
in the first 100 fathoms. If a second wire machine is
available,- the observations may be made from aft
whilst the sounding is being taken forward. A 3O-ft
sinker is attached to the end of the wire, and the
registering thermometers are secured to the wire by the
metal clips at the back of the cases, at the required intervals. To
avoid heavy loss, not more than four thermometers should be on
the wire at one time. When sounding a thermometer is usually
attached to the line a short distance above the lead.
The primary object of the machine called the " submarine sentry "
is to supply an automatic warning of the approach of a ship to
shallow water: it has been instrumental in discovering many un-
suspected banks in imperfectly surveyed waters. . By means of a
Observa-
tions of
Tempera-
ture.
462
SOUSA
single stout wire the sinker, an inverted kite, called the "sentry,"
can be towed steadily for any length of time, at any required
. . vertical depth down to 40 fathoms with the red kite
and 30 fathoms with the black kite; should it strike the
bottom, through the water shallowing to less than the
set depth, it will at once free itself and rise to the surface, simul-
taneously sounding an alarm on board, and thus giving instant
FIG. 3. — The Submarine Sentry.
warning. The vertical depth at which the sentry sets itself when
a given length of wire is paid out is not changed by any variation
of speed between 5 and 13 knots, and is read off on the graduated dial-
plate on the winch. One set of graduations on the dial indicates
the amount of wire out; the other two sets refer to the red and
black kites respectively, and show the depth at which the sentry
is towing. By this machine single soundings down to 40 fathoms
can be taken at any time while the ship is under way. The sentry
being let down slowly, the gong will indicate when the bottom is
touched, and the dial corresponding to the kite used will show at
once the vertical depth at the place where the sentry struck.
By removing the kite and substituting a lead, with atmospheric
sounder or other automatic depth gauge, flying single soundings
up to 100 fathoms can be obtained in the ordinary manner without
stopping the ship. The winch is secured to the deck a short distance
from the stern; the towing wire passes from the drum under a roller
fairlead at the foot of the winch, thence through an iron block with
sheave of large diameter, suspended from a short davit on the
stern rail and secured to the sling of the sentry. The dial being set
to zero with the sentry at the water's edge, the ship's speed is
reduced to 8 or 9 knots, and the wire paid out freely until the kite
is fairly in the water, when the brake should be applied steadily and
without jerking, veering slowly until the required depth is attained,
when the pawl is put on the rachet wheel and the speed increased
to 12 knots if desired when using the black kite or 10 knots with the
red kite.
The kite in its position when being towed is indicated in fig. 3.
The point of the catch C, passing through a thimble M in the short
leg of the sling, is slipped into the hole at the top of trigger T, which
is hinged at K and kept in its place by the spring S attached to the
hook H. On the trigger striking the bottom the catch is released,
the short leg of the sling slips off, and the sentry, which then rises
to the surface, is left towing by the long leg. The winch is fitted
with two handles for heaving in the wire; one gives great power and
slow speed, and the other, acting on the drum spindle direct, winds in
quickly. The wire supplied with the machine has a steady breaking
strain of about 1000 ft. Using the black kite at a speed of 7 knots,
the strain on the wire is about 150 Ib, and at 10 knots about 300 ft.
The red kite increases the strain largely. (A. M. F.*)
SOUSA, LUIZ DE [MANGEL DE SOUSA COUTINHO] (1555-1632),
Portuguese monk and prose-writer, was born at Santarem, a mem-
ber of the noble family of Sousa Coutinho. In 1576 he broke off
his studies at Coimbra University to join the order of Malta,
and shortly afterwards was captured at sea by Moorish pirates
and taken prisoner to Argel, where he met Cervantes. A year
later Manoel de Sousa Coutinho was ransomed, and landing
on the coast of Aragon passed through Valencia, where he made
the acquaintance of the poet Jaime Falcao, who seems to have
inspired him with a taste for study and a quiet life. The national
disasters and family troubles increased this desire, which was
confirmed when he returned to Portugal after the battle of
Alcacer and had the sorrow of witnessing the Spanish invasion
and the loss of his country's independence Between 1584
and 1586 he married a noble lady, D. Magdalena de Vilhena,
widow of D. John of Portugal, the son of the poet D. Manoel of
Portugal, to whom Camoens had dedicated his seventh ode.
Settling at Almada, on the Tagus opposite Lisbon, he divided
his time between domestic affairs, literary studies and his
military duties as colonel of a regiment. His patriotic dislike
of an alien rule grew stronger as he saw Portugal exploited by
her powerful partner, and it was ultimately brought to a head
in 1599. In that year, to escape the pest that devastated Lisbon,
the governors of the kingdom for Philip II. decided to move
their quarters to his residence; thereupon, finding his protest
against this arbitrary resolution unheeded, he set fire to his
house, and to escape the consequences of his courageous act
had to leave Portugal. Going to Madrid, he not only escaped
any penalty, owing no doubt to his position and influence at
the Spanish court, but was able to pursue his literary studies
in peace and to publish the works of his friend Jaime Falcao
(Madrid, 1600). Nothing is known of how he passed the next
thirteen years, though there is a tradition that, at the instance of
a brother resident in Panama, who held out the prospect of
large commercial gains, he spent some time in America. It is
said that fortune was unpropitious, and that this, together with
the news of the death of his only child, D. Anna de Noronha,
caused his return home about 1604. In 1613 he and his wife
agreed to a separation, and he took the Dominican habit in
the convent of Bemfica, while D. Magdalena entered the convent
of the Sacramento at Alcantara. According to an old writer,
the motive for their act was the news, brought by a pilgrim
from Palestine that D. Magdalena's first husband had survived
the battle of Alcacer, in which he was supposed to have fallen,
and still lived; Garrett has immortalized the legend in his play
Frei Luiz de Sousa. The story, however, deserves no credit,
and a more natural explanation is that the pair took their
resolution to leave the world for the cloister from motives of
piety, though in the case of Manoel the captivity of his country
and the loss of his daughter may have been contributory causes.
He made his profession on the 8th of September 1614, and took
the name by which he is known as a writer, Frei Luiz de Sousa.
In 1616, on the death of Frei Luiz Cacegas, another notable
Dominican who had collected materials for a history of the order
and for a life of the famous archbishop of Braga, D. Frei Bartho-
lomew of the Martyrs, the task of writing these books was confided
to Frei Luiz. The Life of the Archbishop appeared in 1619,
and the first part of the Chronicle of St Dominic in 1623, while
the second and third parts appeared posthumously in 1662
and 1678; in addition he wrote, by order of the government,
the Annals of D. John III., which were published by Herculano
in 1846. After a life of about nineteen years spent in religion,
he died in 1632, leaving behind him a memory of strict observance
and personal holiness.
The Chronicle of St Dominic and the Life of the Archbishop have
the defect of most monastic writings — they relate for the most part
only the good, and exaggerate it without scruple, and they admit
all sorts of prodigies, so long as these tend to increase devotion.
Briefly, these books are panegyrics, written for edification, and are
not histories at all in the critical sense of the word. Their order and
arrangement, however, are admirable, and the lucid, polished style,
purity of diction, and simple, vivid descriptions, entitle Frei Luiz
de Sousa to rank as a great prose-writer. His metaphors are well
chosen, and he employs on appropriate occasions familiar terms
and locutions, and makes full use of those charming diminutives in
which the Portuguese language is rich. His prose is characterized
by elegance, sweetness and strength, and is remarkably free from
the affectations and false rhetoric that characterized the age. In
addition to his other gifts, Frei Luiz de Sousa was a good Latin
poet. There are many editions of the Life of the Archbishop, and it
appeared in French (Paris, 1663, 1679 and 1825). in Italian (Rome,
1727-1728), in Spanish (Madrid, 1645 and 1727) and in English
SOUSLIK— SOUTH AFRICA
463
(London, 1890). The Historia de S. Domingos may ba read in a
modern edition (6 vols., Lisbon, 1866).
AUTHORITIES. — Obras de D. Francisco Alexandre Lobo, ii. 61-
171; Innocencio da Silva, Diccionario bibliographico portuguez,
v. 327, xvi. 72; Dr Sousa Viterbo, Manoel de Sousa Coutinho
(Lisbon, 1902). (E. PR.)
SOUSLIK, or SUSLIK, the vernacular name of a European bur-
rowing rodent mammal, nearly allied to the marmots, but of
much smaller size and of more slender and squirrel-like build
(see RODENTIA). The species, Spermophilus (or Citillus) citillus,
is rather smaller than an ordinary squirrel, with minute
ears, and the tail reduced to a stump of less than an inch in
length. The general colour of the upper parts is yellowish grey,
with or without a rusty tinge, which is, however, always notice-
able on the head; while the underparts are lighter. The range
of this species embraces south-east Europe, from southern
Germany, Austria and Hungary to the south of Russia. Farther
east it is replaced by more or less nearly allied species; while
other species extend the range - of the genus across central
and northern Asia, and thence, on the other side of Bering
Strait, all through North America, where these rodents are
commonly known as gophers. Many of the species have medium
or even long tails, while some are nearly double the size of the
typical representative of the group. All, however, have large
cheek-pouches, whence the name of pouched marmots, by
which they are sometimes called; and they have the first front-
toe rudimentary, as in marmots. They are divided into several
subgeneric groups. One of the most striking American species
is the striped gopher, S. (Ictidomys) Iridecemlineatus, which is
marked on each side with seven yellow stripes, between which
are rows of yellow spots on a dark ground. The common
souslik lives in dry, treeless plains, especially on sandy or clayey
soil, and is never found either in forests or on swampy ground.
It forms burrows, often 6 or 8 ft. deep, in which food is stored
up and the winter sleep takes place. Each burrow has but one
entrance, which is closed up when winter approaches; a second
hole, however, being previously driven from the sleeping place
to within a short distance of the surface of the ground. This
second hole is opened the next year, and used as the ordinary
entrance, so that the number of closed up holes round a burrow
gives an indication of the length of time that it has been occupied.
Sousliks feed on roots, seeds and berries, and occasionally on
animal food, preying on eggs, small birds and mice. They bring
forth in the spring from four to eight young ones, which, if
taken early, may be easily tamed. Sousliks are eaten by the
inhabitants of the Russian steppes, who consider their flesh an
especial delicacy. (R. L.*)
SOUTANE, the French term adopted into English for a cassock
especially used for the general daily dress worn by the secular
Roman clergy in France, Italy, Spain and Portugal. The
Med. Lat. subtaneus, adapted in O. Fr. as sotane, in Span, and
Ital. as solatia, and Port, as sotaina, meant an under-skirt,
and is formed from subtus, beneath, sub, under. (See CASSOCK.)
SOUTH, ROBERT (1634-1716), English divine, was born at
Hackney, Middlesex, in September 1634. He was educated at
Westminster school and at Christ Church, Oxford. Before
taking orders in 1658 he was in the habit of preaching as the
champion of Calvinism against Socinianism and Arminianism.
He also at this time showed a leaning to Presbyterianism, but
on the approach of the Restoration his views on church govern-
ment underwent a change; indeed, he was always regarded as a
time-server, though by no means a self-seeker. On the xoth of
August 1660 he was chosen public orator of the university, and
in 1661 domestic chaplain to Lord Clarendon. In March 1663
he was made prebendary of Westminster, and shortly afterwards
he received from his university the degree of D.D. In 1667
he became chaplain to the duke of York. He was a zealous
advocate of the doctrine of passive obedience, and strongly
opposed the Toleration Act, declaiming in unmeasured terms
against the various Nonconformist sects. In 1676 he was
appointed chaplain to Lawrence Hyde (afterwards earl of
Rochester), ambassador-extraordinary to the king of Poland,
and of his visit he sent an interesting account to Edward Pococke
in a letter, dated Dantzic, i6th December, 1677, which was
printed along with South's Posthumous Works in 1717. In
1678 he was presented to the rectory of Islip, Oxfordshire.
Owing, it is said, to a personal grudge, South in 1693 published
with transparent anonymity Animadversions on Dr Sherlock's
Book, entitled a Vindication of the Holy and Ever Blessed Trinity,
in which the views of William Sherlock (q.v.) were attacked
with much sarcastic bitterness. Sherlock, in answer, published
a Defence in 1694, to which South replied in Trilheism Charged
upon Dr Sherlock's New Notion of the Trinity, and the Charge
Made Good. The controversy was carried by the rival parties
into the pulpit, and occasioned such keen feeling that the king
interposed to stop it. During the greater part of the reign
of Anne South remained comparatively quiet, but in 1710 he
ranked himself among the partisans of Sacheverell. He declined
the see of Rochester and the deanery of Westminster in 1713.
He died on the 8th of July 1716, and was buried in West-
minster Abbey.
South had a vigorous style and his sermons were marked by
homely and humorous appeal. His wit generally inclines towards
sarcasm, and it was probably the knowledge of his quarrelsome
temperament that prevented his promotion to a bishopric. He
was noted for the extent of his charities. He published a large
number of single sermons, and they appeared in a collected form in
1692 in six volumes, reaching a second edition in his lifetime in 1715.
There have been several later issues; one in two volumes, with a
memoir (Bohn, 1845). His Opera posthuma latina, including his
will, his Latin poems, and his orations while public orator, with
memoirs of his life, appeared in 1717. An edition of his works in
7 vols. was published at Oxford in 1823, another in 5 vols. in 1842.
See also W. C. Lake, Classic Preachers of the English Church ( 1st series,
1877). The contemporary notice of South by Anthony Wood in
his Athenae is strongly hostile, said to be due to a jest made by
South at Wood's expense.
SOUTH AFRICA. As a geographical unit South Africa is
usually held to be that part of the continent south of the middle
course of the Zambezi. The present article (i) deals with that
part of Africa as a whole, (2) outlines the constitution of the
British possessions forming the Union of South Africa, and (3)
summarizes the history of the country from the time of its
discovery by Europeans.
I. — GENERAL FEATURES
In the geographical sense stated South Africa lies between
16° and 35° S. and 12° and 36° E., narrows from 1600 m. from
west to east along its northern border to some 600 m. of coast
facing south. Its greatest length south-west to north-east is
also about 1600 m. It has an area of about 1,333,000 sq. m.
It comprises the Union of South Africa (i.e. the provinces of the
Cape of Good Hope, Natal, with Zululand, the Orange Free
State and the Transvaal); Basutoland, Bechuanaland, Swazi-
land and Southern Rhodesia, all British possessions; German
South-West Africa, and the southern part of Portuguese East
Africa. By some writers Northern Rhodesia is included in
South Africa, but that district belongs more accurately to the
central portion of the continent. Other writers confine the
term to the British possessions south of the Zambezi, but in
this case British South Africa is the proper designation. South
African standard time, adopted in 1903, is that of 30° E., or
two hours in advance of Greenwich.
Physical Features. — There is a marked uniformity in physical
features throughout South Africa. The coast line, from the mouth
of the Kunene on the west to the delta of the Zambezi on the
east, is little indented and contains only two sheltered natural
harbours of any size — Saldanha Bay on the west and Delagoa
Bay on the east. At Port Natal, however, the removal of the
sand bar at its entrance has made available a third magnificent
harbour, while at Table Bay (Cape Town) and at other places
ports have been constructed. South Africa presents, however,
a solid land mass without peninsulas of any size or any large
islands off its coasts. Moreover, behind the low-lying coast-
lands, which extend in general from 50 to 250 m. inland,
rise ramparts of hills shutting off the interior. This conforma-
tion of the country has been a powerful influence in determining
its history and development. Here and there the mountains,
SOUTH AFRICA
[GENERAL FEATURES
which run in lines parallel to the coast, approach close to. the
sea, as at Table Bay. In the south-east, in the Drakensberg,
they attain heights of 10,000 to 11,000 ft., elsewhere the highest
points are between 8000 and 9000 ft. They form terrace-like
steps leading to a vast tableland (covering about 900,000 sq. m.)
with a mean elevation of 4000 ft., the highest part of the plateau
— the High Veld of the Transvaal — being fully 6000 ft. above
the sea. In its southern part the plateau has a general tilt
to the west, in the north it tilts eastward. This tilt determines
the hydrographical system. In the south the drainage is to the
Atlantic, chiefly through the Orange River, in the north to the
Indian Ocean through the Zambezi, Limpopo and other streams.
A large number of smaller rivers rise on the outer slopes of the
mounta;n ramparts and flow direct to the sea. In consequence
of their great slope and the intermittent supply of water the
rivers — except the Zambezi — are unnavigable save for a few
miles from their mouths. The central part of the interior
plateau, covering some 120,000 sq. m., is arid and is known as
the Kalahari Desert. The western region, both plateau and
coastlands, specially that part north of the Orange, is largely
semi or wholly desert, while in the Cape province the terrace
lands below the interior plateau are likewise arid, as is signified
by their Hottentot name karusa (Karroo). The southern and
eastern coastlands, owing to different climatic conditions (see
infra) are very fertile.
The geological structure is remarkably uniform, the plateau
consisting mainly of sedimentary deposits resting on crystalline
rocks. The Karroo system (sandstones and marls) covers
immense areas (see AFRICA, § Geology). Intrusive dikes —
locally known as ironstone — by preventing erosion are often
the cause of the flat-topped hills which are a common feature of
the landscape. The Witwatersrand series of the Transvaal
includes auriferous conglomerates which have been worked
since 1886 and constitute the richest gold-mines in the world.
The diamondiferous areas at Kimberley and in the Pretoria
district are likewise the richest known. Coal beds are widely
distributed in the eastern districts while there are large copper
deposits in the west, both at the Cape and in German territory.
Climate. — The general characteristics of the climate are determined
more by the physical conformation of the land than its proximity
to the equator. The eastern escarpments (the Drakensberg, &c.)
of the plateau intercept the rain-bearing winds from the Indian
Ocean, so that over the greater part of the interior the rainfall is
slight (5 to 24 in.). This, added to the elevation of the land, makes
the climate in general dry, bracing and suitable for Europeans, not-
withstanding that the northern part is within the tropics. Tem-
perature is high, the mean yearly average lying between 60° and
70° F. Only along the south-eastern coast and in some of the river
valleys is the climate of a markedly tropical character; here the
rainfall rises to 50 in. a year and the coast is washed by the warm
Mozambique current. The Cape peninsula and the western coast
receive the cold currents from the Antarctic regions. Except in
southern and western Cape Colony and along the Atlantic coast,
summer is the rainy season.
Flora and Fauna. — In consequence of the deficient rainfall over
the greater part of the country the flora is not luxuriant and there
are no large forests. Coarse grasses are the characteristic vegetation
of the tableland. On the plains where grasses cannot find sufficient
moisture their place is taken by " bush," composed mainly of stunted
mimosas, acacias, euphorbia, wild pomegranate, bitter aloes and
herbaceous plants. Forest patches are found in the kloofs and
seaward sides of the mountains; willows often border the water-
courses; heaths and bulbous plants are common in some areas.
In the semi-tropical regions south-east of the Drakensberg, i.e. the
coastlands of Natal and Portuguese East Africa, the vegetation is
abundant, and mangroves, palms, baobab and bombax trees flourish.
Here, and also in the upper Limpopo valley, cotton, tobacco,
and rubber vines are found. Among the timber trees are species
of pine, cedar, ebony, ironwood, stinkwood and sneezewood. Flower-
ing plants include numerous species of terrestrial orchids, the so-
called arum lily (Richardia Ajricana), common in low-lying moist
land, and the white everlasting flower, found abundantly in some
regions of Cape Colony. Of non-indigenous flora are the oak, poplar,
bluegum, the Australian wattle, the vine, and almost every variety
of fruit tree and European vegetables. In suitable regions tea,
coffee, sugar and rice, as well as tobacco and cotton, are cultivated.
In the western districts of the Cape viticulture is largely followed.
The cereal most grown is maize (known in South Africa as mealies) ;
kaffir corn, wheat, barley and oats are also largely cultivated. The
soil is everywhere rich, but the lack of perennial water and the
absence of irrigation works on a large scale retards agriculture.
Most of the veld is divided into huge farms devoted to the rearing
of cattle, sheep, goats and horses. On the Karroo are numerous
ostrich farms. Lucerne is very largely grown as fodder for the
cattle.
The native fauna was formerly very rich in big game, a fact
sufficiently testified by the names given by the early European
settlers to mountains and streams. The lion, elephant, rhinoceros,
hippopotamus, giraffe, buffalo, quagga, zebra and other large animals
were, however, during the i8th and igth centuries driven out of
the more southern regions (though a few elephants and buffaloes,
now carefully preserved, are still found at the Cape), the quagga
being totally exterminated. In the Kalahari and in the eastern
lowlands (from Zululand to the Zambezi delta) most of these animals
are still found, as well as the eland, wildebeest and gemsbok. The
leopard (called a tiger in South Africa) is still fairly common in
all mountainous regions. Spotted hyenas and jackals are also
numerous. The kudu is now the most common of the larger ante-
lopes, the duiker and klipspringer are among the smaller antelopes still
existing in large numbers. Baboons are common in some districts.
Birds include the ostrich, great kori bustard, the eagle, vulture,
hawk and crane, francolin, golden cuckoo, loorie, scarlet and yellow
finches, kingfishers, parrots (in the eastern regions), pelicans and
flamingoes. There are thirty varieties of snakes. Locusts are
conspicuous among the common plagues of the country. In Rhodesia
and on the east coast the tsetse fly is found and termites are widely
distributed.
Inhabitants. — The aborigines of South Africa are represented
by the Bushmen and Hottentots, now found in any racial
purity only in the Kalahari and in the southern part of German
South-West Africa. All the other natives, popularly called
Kaffirs, are members of the Bantu-negroid family, of whom they
here form three distinct branches: (i) the Zulu-Xosas, origin-
ally confined to the south-east seaboard between Delagoa Bay
and the Great Fish River, but later (ipth century) spread by
conquest over Gazaland, parts of the Transvaal, and Rhodesia
(Matabeleland), (2) the Bechuanas, with the kindred Basutos,
on the continental plateau from the Orange to the Zambezi, and
ranging westwards over the Kalahari desert and the Lake
Ngami region; (3) the Ova-Herero and Ova-Mpo, confined to
German South-West Africa between Walfish Bay and the
Kunene River.
All these mixed Bantu peoples are immigrants at various
periods from beyond the Zambezi. The Bechuanas, who occupy
by far the largest domain, and preserve the totemic tribal
system, were probably the first arrivals from the north or the
north-sea coastlands. As early, probably, as the 8th century A.D.
Arabs had formed a settlement on the coast at Sofala, 130 m.
south of the mouth of the Zambezi, but they got no further
south nor do they appear to have penetrated inland, though they
traded for gold and other articles with the inhabitants of the
northern part of the plateau — the builders of the zimbabwes
and other ruins in what is now Rhodesia (q.v.) The Asiatic
inhabitants of South Africa of the present day are mainly Indian
Population (1(104).
Area in
White.
Coloured.
Total.
sq. m.
British South Africa:
'Cape of Good
•vjj
Hope. . .
276,995
579,741
1,830,063
2,409,804
o *C
Natal (with
g<
Zululand)
35-371
97,109
1,011,645
1,108,754
1-fl
Orange Free
p§
State .
50,392
142,679
244,636
387,315
&
Transvaal .
111,196
297,277
972,674
1,269,951
Southern Rhodesia .
148,575
12,623
600,000'
612,623
Basutoland
10,293
895
347-95?
348,848
Bechuanaland Pro-
tectorate. .
225.0001
1,004
119,772
120,776
Swaziland.
6,536
898
84,586
85,484
Total British . .
864,358
1,132,226
5,211,329
6,343,555
German S.W. Africa .
322,450
7,1 io2
200, ooo1
207,110
Portuguese East Africa
(southern part of)
I45.0001
I0.0001
I^OO.OOO1
1,710,000
Total South Africa
1,331,808
1,149-336
7,111,329
8,260,665
1 Estimates. * 1907.
GENERAL FEATURES]
SOUTH AFRICA
465
coolies brought to Natal since 1860. The white races represented
are mainly Dutch and British; colonization by European races
dating from the i;th century. There are a few thousand
Germans and Portuguese, chiefly in the territories belonging to
their respective countries. The table on p. 464 shows the
inhabitants, white and coloured, in the different territories
into which South Africa is divided, and also the area of these
territories.
It will be seen that the population is sparse, less than 6\ persons
per square mile. (Excluding the Bechuanaland Protectorate and
German South-West Africa, which contain very large desert areas,
the population is slightly over 7 per square mile.) In British South
Africa the coloured races are nearly five times as numerous as the
whites. . The great majority of the coloured inhabitants are Bantus
of pure blood, but the total coloured population includes in the Cape
province 298,334 persons of mixed blood (chiefly white and Hot-
tentot) and in Natal 100,918 Asiatics. Save in the German colony
the official returns do not discriminate between the nationality
of the white inhabitants. Those of British and Dutch origin are
probably about equal in numbers, but a very large proportion of
the British inhabitants live in the towns, the country population
being in most districts predominantly Dutch. The chief cities are
Cape Town (pop. 1904, 77,668), Port Elizabeth (32,959). East London
(25,220) and Kimberley (34,331) in the Cape province; Durban
(67,847) in Natal; Johannesburg (155,642) and Pretoria (36,839) in
the Transvaal; and Bloemfontein (33,883) in the Orange Free State.
Salisbury and Buluwayo are the chief towns in Southern Rhodesia.
The only town of any size outside the British possession is Lourencp
Marques (Pop. 1907, 9849) in Delagoa Bay.
Economic Condition. — Originally regarded by Europeans merely
as a convenient dep6t for ships on their way to India, the wealth
of South Africa for long consisted in its agricultural and pastoral
resources. Mealies and wheat were the principal crops. Wool,
mohair and ostrich feathers were the chief exports, the only mineral
exported being copper (from the Namaqualand mines). The open-
ing up of the diamond mines at Kimberley (1870) followed (1886)
by the discovery of the Witwatersrand goldfields completely
revolutionized the economic situation and profoundly modified the
history of the country. They led, among other things, to the
improvement of ports and the building of railways, so that by the
close of the first decade of the 2oth century the reproach of in-
accessibility from which South Africa had suffered was no longer
true. From the seaports of Cape Town, Port Elizabeth, East
London, Durban, Lourenco Marques and Beira railway lines run
to Kimberley, Bloemfontein, Johannesburg and Pretoria, while a
trunk line extends north from Kimberley through Rhodesia (in
which gold mining began on an extensive scale in 1898) and across
the Zambezi below the Victoria Falls into the Congo basin, where
it serves the Katanga mineral area. The distance from Cape Town
to Katanga is over 2100 miles. The German territory is also pro-
vided with railways, intended eventually to link with the British
systems. The standard gauge is 3 ft. 6 in. and in 1910 some 12,000 m.
of railway were open. In nearly every instance the railways
are state owned. While gold and diamond mining continue the
greatest of South African industries other sources of wealth have
been added. In the Cape, Natal and the Transvaal coal mining is
largely developed ; in the Transvaal and the Cape tobacco is grown
extensively; sugar, tea and other tropical and sub-tropical produce
are largely cultivated in Natal and the Portuguese territory, and,
since 1905, mealies have become an important article of export.
There are few manufactures; among the chief are the making of
wine and brandy in the Cape province, and flour-milling. Cattle
and mealies constitute the most valuable possessions of the natives.
The imports are of a general nature, textiles and food-stuffs being
the most important.
Irrigation. — The scanty rainfall in many parts of South Africa
and its unequal distribution necessitates a system of artificial
irrigation unless much of the land be allowed to remain uncultivated.
But in many regions the soil is deficient in phosphates and nitrates,
and large irrigation works can be profitable only in districts where
the soil is exceptionally fertile. Before 1877 little was done to
make use of the water resources of the country. In that year the
Cape legislature provided for the constitution of irrigation boards.
Later boring operations were undertaken by the government, and
the advice of engineers acquainted with Egyptian and Indian irriga-
tion works sought. A report was drawn up by Sir (then Mr) Wm.
Willcocks in 1901 in which he estimated that there were in the Cape,
Orange Free State and the Transvaal, 3,000,000 acres which could
be brought under irrigation at a cost of about £30,000,000. The
value of the land, in its arid condition almost nil, when irrigated
he placed at some £100,000,000. None of the South African govern-
ments was, however, then in a position to undertake large works.
At the Cape the census of 1904 gave 415,688 acres as the area under
irrigation, an increase of 105,827 acres since 1891. In the Robertson
district a canal (completed in 1904) 21 m. long took off from the
Breede River and fertilized a large area, with the result that Robert-
son ranks as the second richest district in the province. Over the
Karroo and other arid regions some 10,000 boreholes had been sunk
to depths varying from 50 to 500 ft., their yield being 60,000,000
gallons a year. The value of land under artesian well irrigation
(e.g. in the Graaff Reinet district) has increased from 2Os. to £200
per morgen. More important, however, are the supplies to be
derived from the control of flood water, millions of cubic feet of
the best soil being annually washed into the sea. The Boer govern-
ments had done little to promote irrigation, but during 1905-1907
a strong intercolonial commission investigated the subject as it
affected the Transvaal and Orange Free State, and their final report,
issued at Pretoria in 1908, contains full particulars as to the irrigation
possibilities in those provinces. At least 350,000 acres in the Trans-
vaal could be remuneratively irrigated, and a proportionally large
area in the Orange province. In Natal an act of 1904 gave power
to the government to forward irrigation schemes. Under that
act the Winterton Irrigation Settlement (18,000 acres) was formed
on the upper Tugela. In 1909 an irrigation congress representative
of all the governments of British South Africa was held at Robertson,
in the Cape province.
Commerce. — All the British states and territories are members
of postal, telegraphic and customs unions. The customs are of
a protective character, while there is a rebate on goods from Great
Britain and British possessions1 (see below, History). There is
internal free trade throughout the Union of South Africa. The
customs tariff in the Portuguese possessions is of a highly protective
nature; goods coming from Portugal pay one-tenth of the dues
levied on foreign goods. In German South-West Africa no
discrimination is made as to the country of origin of imports.
A South African Customs Statistical Bureau, which deals with
the external trade of British South Africa,2 was established in July
1905. The statistics issued by the bureau showed a total volume
of trade in 1905 of £72,910,000 made up as follows: Imports
£29,859,000 (including £4,208,000 received through Portuguese
ports) ; exports £43,050,000. Of this amount £25,644,000 was put as
the value of raw gold exported, and £9,257,000 as the value of the
diamonds shipped. Only £414,000 worth of goods was exported
via Portuguese ports. For 1907 the figures were: Value of total
trade £74,153,000; imports £25,920,000, exports £48,233,000.
Goods valued at £4,036,377 received through Portuguese ports
are included in the imports, and goods valued at £507,000 shipped
at Portuguese ports in the exports. The value of raw gold exported
in 1907 was £29,510,000, of diamonds £8,973,000. In 1908 the figures
were: Total trade £70,093,000; imports £24,438,000 (including
£4,641,000 via Portuguese ports); exports £45,655,000 (including
£513,000 from Portuguese ports). The raw gold exported was worth
£32,047,000 but the export of diamonds fell to £4,796,000. In
1909 the value of the imports into British South Africa was
returned at £29,842,000; the value of the exports at £51,151,000.*
Of the imports over £16,850,000 came from the United Kingdom,
over £2,240,000 from Australia, £2,450,000 from Germany, and
£2,195,000 from the United States. Of the exports raw gold was
valued at £33,303,000, diamonds at £6,370,000, wool at £3,728,000
and ostrich feathers at £2,091,000. The value of the imports
through Delagoa Bay and other Portuguese ports was £6,795,000,
the exports from Portuguese ports were valued at slightly over
£500,000. In the four years the imports from the United Kingdom
were about 58%, from other parts of the empire 13%. Of the
exports the United Kingdom took some 95%; a considerable
quantity of South African produce, especially wool, shipped to
England ultimately however finds its way to other countries. Next
to Great Britain the countries doing most trade with South Africa
are Australia and New Zealand, Germany, the United States,
Canada, Brazil, India, Belgium, Holland and France.
Religion. — The great majority of the white inhabitants are
Protestants. Most of those of Dutch descent are members of the
Dutch Reformed Church (Nederduitsch Heruormde Kerk), the state
church of the early Cape colonists, or of churches formed by dis-
sentient members of the original church such as the Gereformeerde
Kerk (the " Dopper " Church), a branch (introduced in 1858) of
the Separatist Reformed Church of Holland. These churches are
Calvimstic in doctrine and Presbyterian in organization. _ Until
1843 the Cape synod was controlled by government commissioners;
it was then given power to regulate its own internal affairs. There
are separate synods with independent authority for the congrega-
tions of the Dutch Reformed Churches in the Cape, Orange Free
State and Transvaal provinces. The Doppers (" roundheads ")
and other dissentient bodies have also separate synods. Besides
these churches there are a number of Lutheran congregations among
the Dutch speaking population.
The South Africans of British descent are divided, mainly, into
Anglicans, Wesleyans and Presbyterians. The Baptists and Con-
gregationalists are smaller bodies. All form independent churches
in communion with the mother churches in Great Britain. The
oldest established is that of the Presbyterians. The Anglican
1 The total amount rebated in 1908 was £430,017.
2 Including North- West Rhodesia.
' For the six months January to June 1910 the figures were:
imports £14,770,000; exports £24,442,000.
466
SOUTH AFRICA
[GENERAL FEATURES
organization dates from 1847. Being declared by judicial decision
in 1863 a voluntary body, the Anglicans formed " The Church of
the Province of South Africa." It is divided into the dioceses of
Cape Town, Graham's Town, Maritzburg (Natal), Kaffraria, Bloem-
fontein, Pretoria, Zululand, Mashonaland and Lebombo. The
last-named diocese is that part of Portuguese East Africa south of
the Sabi river ; the Mashonaland diocese includes the Portuguese
territory between the Sabi and the Zambezi. German South-West
Africa is not included in the Anglican organization. The metropoli-
tan is the archbishop of Cape Town. The constitution of the church
was drawn up at a provincial synod in 1870. It accepts the doctrines
of the Church of England, but acknowledges none save its own
ecclesiastical tribunals, or such other tribunal as may be accepted
by the provincial synod — in other words it rejects the authority
of the English privy council. Bishop Colenso of Natal and other
Anglicans did not accept the authority of the provincial synod,
regarding themselves as in all respects members of the Church of
England. This was, especially in Natal, the cause of prolonged
controversy among the members of the Anglican community. By
1901, however, the majority of the " Church of England party
were represented in the provincial synod. Nevertheless the tempor-
alities of this party remained in the hands of curators and not in
the possession of the provincial church. In 1910 the practical
amalgamation of the two bodies was effected (see further NATAL).
The Roman Catholics area comparatively small body ; the majority
of their adherents are found in the Cape and Natal. At the head
of their organizations are vicars-apostolic for the Cape (eastern
district), the Cape (western district), Natal, Orange River, Kimberley
and the Transvaal, and prefects-apostolic for Basutoland and
Zambezi (or Rhodesia).
All the churches maintain missions to the natives. The first
to enter the field were the Jesuits and Dominicans, who laboured
on the south-east coast and among the subjects of the monomotapa
(see PORTUGUESE EAST AFRICA). Their work lasted from about
MI i l$(*> to I'r.6o> kut ** ^as '5't 'it:t'e trace- Tne ear'v
Nttlve' m°dern missions were all Protestant. A Moravian
mission to the Hottentots was begun in 1737, continued
to 1744 and was re-established — against the wishes of the colonists —
in 1792. Before the close of the century the London Missionary
Society entered the field. The work of this society's agents has
had a greater influence on the history of South Africa than that of
any other religious body save the Dutch Reformed Church. Next
in order came the Wesleyans and the Glasgow Missionary Society
(Presbyterian), the last-named society founding in 1824 the station
of Lovedale — now the most important institution in South Africa
in connexion with native missions. In 1829 the Paris Evangelical
Society (whose agents have laboured chiefly in Basuto and Barotse
lands) sent out their first missionaries, who were closely followed
by the agents of other societies (see MISSIONS). The Roman
Catholics entered the field later on. By the end of the igth century
fully 5 % of the total native population professed Christianity.
The Jews form a small but influential community. There are
some thousands of Mahommedans in the Cape (chiefly Malays) and
larger numbers in Natal, where there is also a large Hindu popula-
tion. At Lourenco Marques the Chinese colony has its own temple
and religious services.
Law.1 — The basis of the common law of British South Africa is
the Roman-Dutch law as it existed in Holland at the end of the
1 8th century. This was simply the old Roman jurisprudence
embodied in the legislation of Justinian, modified by custom and
legislative decrees during the course of the centuries which
witnessed the growth of civilization in Europe; and it is to all
intents and purposes the jurisprudence which was the foundation
of the Code Napoleon. It was in part closely akin to the
" modern Roman law " which is practised widely over the con-
tinent of Europe, and even in Scotland, at the present day.
The authorities upon the common law in South Africa are: the
Dutch commentators upon the civil law, the statute law of
Holland, the decisions of the Dutch courts, and, failing these,
the corpus juris civilis itself.
In the period which has elapsed since the establishment of
British rule at the Cape the law has been considerably modified
and altered, both by legislation and by judicial decisions, and
it is not too much to say that at the present time there exists
hardly any material difference in principle over the greater part
of the field of jurisprudence between the law of England and the
law of South Africa. The law of contracts, the law of torts,
the mercantile law, the law relating to shipping and insurance,
not to mention other subjects, are practically identical with
those of England; and even the criminal law is virtually the
1 For the sections here incorporated on South African law and
language we are indebted to the late J. W. Leonard, K.C. (d. 1909),
twice attorney-general of Cape Colony.
same, though the greater elasticity of the civil jurisprudence
allows fewer opportunities for the escape of malefactors, notably
in cases of fraud or falsity in any form, than exist under the law
of England. The constitution of the courts is based on the
example of the English judiciary, and the rules of evidence
and procedure are practically the same in both criminal and
civil cases as in England. Ah1 serious cases of crime are tried
before a judge and jury, with the same formalities and safeguards
as in England, while minor offences are dealt with by stipendiary
magistrates possessing a limited statutory jurisdiction. In
criminal cases it is necessary for the jury to find a unanimous
verdict. In civil cases either party may demand a jury, a
privilege which is seldom exercised; but in a civil case the verdict
of the majority of jurors prevails.
The most marked difference between the English and South
African systems of law is, as might be expected, to be found
in the law relating to real property. In South Africa there is
a rigid and universal application of the principle of registration.
The title to land is registered, in all cases; and so, with a few
exceptions, is every servitude or easement, mortgage or charge,
upon land. With regard to the devolution of property upon
death, it may be remarked that the law of intestate succession
applies equally to real and personal estate, there being no law of
primogeniture. The rules of distribution in intestacy differ,
however, very considerably from those established in England.
There is absolute freedom of testamentary disposition in the
Cape province and in some other parts of South Africa. The
effect of marriage upon the property of the spouses is, by the
Roman-Dutch law and in the absence of any ante-nuptial
contract to the contrary, to bring about a complete community
of property, virtually a universal partnership between husband
and wife, subject to the sole and absolute control of the husband
while the marriage lasts. The courts have, however, the right
to interfere for the protection of the wife in case of any flagrant
abuse of the power thus vested in the husband. Ante-nuptial
agreements may be of any nature the parties may choose. Such
agreements must in all cases be publicly registered. Upon the
dissolution of a marriage in community of property, or in the
event of a judicial separation a communione bonorum, the
property of the spouses is divided as upon the liquidation of a
partnership. It is not necessary here to refer particularly to
certain exceptions to this general rule in cases of divorce.
By the common law gifts between husband and wife during
marriage are void as against creditors. This rule cannot be
evaded even by ante-nuptial agreement. By the statute law
of Natal post-nuptial agreements between spouses are permitted
under certain conditions, to which it is not possible now to refer
at length. Divorce is granted to either spouse for either
adultery or malicious desertion, the distinctions established by
the English law between husband and wife in respect of divorce
being disregarded.
Language. — The languages spoken in South Africa by the
inhabitants of European descent are English and Dutch, the
latter chiefly in the form of a patois colloquially known as the
Taal. (German and Portuguese are spoken in the possessions
of those countries, but a knowledge of English or Dutch is
frequent even in those territories.) The history of the Dutch
language in South Africa is intimately bound up with the history
of the South African Dutch people. The basis of the language
as spoken to-day is that 17th-century Dutch of Holland which
the first settlers brought to the country; and although the Dutch
of Holland and the Dutch of South Africa differ very widely
to-day, Cape Dutch differs less widely from the Dutch language
of the 1 7th century than from the modern Dutch of Holland.
The tongue of the vast majority of the Dutch-speaking inhabitants
may thus be said to be a degenerate dialect of the 17th-century
Dutch of Holland, with a very limited vocabulary. The
limiting of the vocabulary is due to two reasons. In the first
place, the early settlers were drawn principally from the peasant
class, being chiefly discharged soldiers and sailors; and, further,
when once settled, the necessity for making the language in-
telligible to the natives by whom the settlers were surrounded led
''^y9^^^^
•x
\
by The Encyclopaedia. Britannic*. Co.
CONSTITUTION]
SOUTH AFRICA
to a still further simplification of speech structure and curtail-
ment of the vocabulary. There thus grew up an ungrammatica
dialect of Dutch, suited only to the most ordinary requirements
of the everyday life of a rural population. It became a lan-
guage with neither a syntax nor a literature. At the same time
it remained in character almost entirely Dutch, no French —
in spite of the incorporation into the population of the Hugue-
not emigrants — and only a few Malay words finding a place in
the Taal. But side by side with this language of everyday life
a purer form of Dutch has continued to exist and find its uses
under certain conditions. It must be borne in mind that the
Boers of every grade have always been more or less sedulously
instructed in religious subjects, at all events to the extent
required to fit them for formal membership of their church,
and in all their wanderings they have usually been attended
by their pastors. The Dutch Bible and Catechism are written
in pure Dutch. The language of the Dutch Bible is as majestic
as that of the English version. Moreover, the services of the
Church have always been conducted in grammatical though
simple Dutch; and the clergy, in their intercourse with the
people, have as a general rule abstained from conversing in the
ordinary dialect. The Boer thus has but slight difficulty in
reading and understanding pure Dutch. Under the influence
of Africander nationalism strenuous efforts have been made
to teach the language in the schools throughout the greater
part of South Africa. In the Transvaal and Orange Free State
education was imparted almost exclusively in Dutch. All
public business in the government offices and law courts was
conducted in the language, and the Transvaal at the time of
its annexation by Great Britain was being gradually inundated
by officials, railway servants and others introduced from Holland,
who spoke modern Dutch. Officially throughout the Union of
South Africa both languages are now on a footing of equality.
Throughout South Africa a number of words, mainly Dutch, are
in general use by the English-speaking inhabitants and also, to a
considerable extent, among the natives. The most common of
these words, with their English meanings, are here set forth. When
not otherwise stated the words are of Dutch origin: —
Assegai .
Boschveld .
Bywoners .
Daal . . .
Dorp
Dritt . . .
Ervan (sing, erf)
Fontein .
Hoek . . .
Inspan .
Kaffir . . .
Karroo .
Kloof . . .
Kop ...
Kopje
Kraal . . .
Krantz (or Kranz)
Nek
Poort
Rand .
Ruggens
Slim .
Sluit
a spear used by the Kaffir tribes; a word
adopted from the Portuguese, but of Berber
origin.
a plain or open stretch of country covered
with thin wood or bush. Often written
bushveld.
(literally witnesses) " poor whites," the name
given by the Boers to the landless whites,
hangers-on at farms, &c.
valley,
village.
ford (a " Taal " word).
plots of land,
fountain, spring.
corner, angle, hook. Common in place-names,
to harness.
(Arabic for unbeliever [in Islam]) a native of
Bantu stock ; more loosely any native,
any arid district; now the name of definite
regions (from the Hottentot),
fissure or crevice, hence a ravine or narrow
valley.
(literally head) a hill, generally rounded.
Flat-topped hills are usually called tafel
(table) or plat (flat) bergs,
a little hill; the name given to the isolated
pointed hills which are a characteristic feature
of the plains of South Africa,
an enclosure, hence a native village. Prob-
ably from the Portuguese,
an overhanging wall of rock, hence a steep
cliff, a precipice. A " Taal " word derived
from the Dutch krans, a wreath, chaplet or
cornice.
literally neck ) mountain passes or passes
literally gate $ between mountains,
border, edge, hence a low and usually round
range of hills.
ridges, applied to undulating slopes or un-
irrigated hilly country,
cunning, clever, adroit.
(Dutch shot) ditch, gutter, small stream.
467
Spruit .... (literally shoot, spruiten, to spring up), stream,
small river. The name given to intermittent
streams liable to sudden freshets.
Stoep .... (literally a step), the name given to the plat-
form or veranda of a house. The stoep is
shaded by a roof and is a favourite rendez-
vous for the household and for visitors.
Formerly all South African houses had stoeps,
but in the central parts of the larger towns
the buildings are now without verandas.
Trek .... (literally, pull, tug, trekken, to draw or pull),
to leave a place, to take a journey ; also the
distance covered in a journey.
Veld .... field. The name given to open plains and
to the grass-covered plateaus of the interior.
Vlei a hollow filled with water during rainy
weather.
Uitspan .... to unharness.
Uitlander . . . outlander, i.e. a foreigner.
Among other Dutch words frequently used in place-names may be
instanced: rhenoster (rhinoceros) olifant (elephant), mooi (pretty),
modder (mud), klip (cliff), berg (mountain), burg or stad (town),
zwart (black), klein (little), groote (great), breede (broad), nieuw
(new), zuur (sour), bokke (buck).
A number of Dutch weights and measures are also in general use.
They include: muid =3 bushels; morgen =2-11654 acres. A Cape
rood equals 12-396 English feet, and a Cape ton contains 2000 ft.
II. — CONSTITUTION OF THE UNION OF SOUTH AFRICA
In accordance with the provisions of an act of the British
Parliament (South Africa Act 1909) Cape Colony, Natal, the
Transvaal and Orange River colonies were united under one
government in a legislative union under the British crown.
The Union of South Africa, as the new state is named, was
established on the 3ist of May 1910. Upon its formation the
colonies named became provinces of the Union. In the case
of the Orange River colony its title was changed to Orange
Free State province. The colonial legislatures were abolished,
provincial councils, with strictly subordinate and delegated
powers, were set up, and provincial administrators (local men)
replaced the various governors. The history of the movement
which led to unification is given in the following section. The
main provisions of the constitution J are as follows:—
The executive government of the Union is vested in the king
and may be exercised by the sovereign in person. It is, however,
administered by a governor-general, who holds office _.
during the king's pleasure. The governor-general E
can dismiss ministers and dissolve parliament. He is tixecutlve-
empowered to dissolve both houses of the legislature simultaneously
or the House of Assembly alone. He can perform no official act
when beyond the territorial limits of the Union, but he can appoint
a deputy to act for him during temporary absences. The governor-
general is paid £10,000 a year out of the consolidated funds of the
Union. He is advised by an executive council, whose members
he nominates. The council must include the ministers of state;
ministers administering departments of state may not exceed ten
in number. Ministers cannot hold office for a longer period than
three months unless they are or become members of either house of
parliament. The control and administration of native affairs (which
Defore the Union was, except at the Cape, largely in the hands of
:he colonial governors personally) is vested exclusively in the
governor in council and to the same authority is entrusted all matters
specially or differentially affecting Asiatics throughout the Union.
The legislative power is vested in a parliament consisting of the
Sovereign, a Senate, and a House of Assembly. The Senate consists of
40 members, 8 representatives from each province, and 8 members
nominated by the governor-general in council. Four of the nominated
members are selected on the ground mainly of their thorough
acquaintance with " the reasonable wants and wishes " of the
coloured races in South Africa. The presence of both nominated
and elected members in the Senate is a novel provision in the con-
stitution of the upper chambers of British colonial legislatures.
The senators chosen in 1910 hold office for ten years. After 1920
.he Union parliament may make any alteration it sees rfte
it in the constitution of the senate. A senator must Legislature.
>e_ a British subject of European descent, must be
hirty years old. be a parliamentary voter in one of the provinces,
lave lived for five years in the Union, and if an elected member be
>ossessed of immovable property within the Union of the clear
alue of £500.
1 For a detailed examination of the constitution and a comparison
of it with the federal constitutions of Canada and Australia see
' South African Union," by A. Berriedale Keith, in the Journ.
Soc. Comp. Legislation for October 1909.
SOUTH AFRICA
[HISTORY
The House of Assembly consists (as originally constituted) of 121
members, elected by single-membered constituencies, each con-
stituency containing as nearly as possible the same number of voters.
Of these members the Cape Province returns 51, the Transvaal 36,
and Natal and Orange Free State 17 each. As population increases
the total number of members may be raised to 150. The seats
allotted to each province are determined by its number of European
male adults as ascertained by a quinquennial census, the quota for
a constituency being obtained by dividing the total number of such
adults in the Union as ascertained at the 1904^ census by the number
of members at the establishment of the Union. The commission
charged with the delimitation of constituencies is permitted
to vary the quota as much as 15% either way. Members
of the House of Assembly must, like senators, be British subjects
of European descent, they must be qualified to be registered as
voters and have lived for five years within the Union. A general
election must take place every five years, and all polls must be
taken on the same day. There must be a session of parliament
every year, so arranged that twelve months shall not elapse between
the last day of one session and the first sitting of the next session.
The qualifications of parliamentary voters are those which existed
in the several colonies at the establishment of the Union, save that
"no member of His Majesty's regular forces on full pay" can be
registered as a voter. As the franchise laws in the several colonies
differed the qualifications of voters in the provinces differ also. In
the Transvaal and Orange Free State provinces the franchise is
restricted to white adult male British subjects. In neither province
is there any property qualification, but a six months' residence before
registration is required. In Natal (q.v.) there is a low property
qualification. In that province coloured persons are not by name
debarred from the franchise, but they are in practice excluded. In
the Cape province, where there is also a low property qualification,
no colour bar exists and there are a large number of Kaffir voters (see
CAPE COLONY: Constitution). Parliament may alter the qualifica-
tions for the vote, but no law which would deprive coloured persons
in the Cape province of the franchise can be effective " unless the
bill be passed by both houses of parliament sitting together and at
the third reading be agreed to by not less than two-thirds oi the total
number of members of both houses."
Save as subject, ultimately, to the British parliament the Union
parliament is a sovereign body. The provinces have no original
authority, possessing only such powers as are delegated to them by
the parliament. In certain cases the governor-general must reserve
the royal assent to bills, e.g. any bill abolishing the coloured vote
in the Cape province. The king is given the power to disallow any
law within a year of it having received the assent of the governor-
general.
With regard to bills the two houses are not in a position of equality.
Bills appropriating revenue or moneys, or imposing taxation, must
originate in the House of Assembly and may not be amended by the
Senate. If a bill passed by the Assembly has been twice rejected
by the Senate, provision, is made for a joint sitting of both houses,
when members vote and decide upon the measure concerned as one
body. In the case of a money bill rejected by the Senate a joint
sitting to decide its fate may be held in the same session in which
the Senate has failed to pass the bill. Every minister of state may
sit and speak in either house, but can vote only in the house of which
he is a member. Re-election is not necessary on the appointment
of a member as a minister of state. Members of parliament are
paid £400 a year, £3 being deducted from this allowance for every
day's absence during the session.
A Supreme Court of Judicature for South Africa was created at
the establishment of the Union. The former Supreme, High and
j.^e Circuit Courts of the several colonies then became
ii.dk-aiiirr provincial and local divisions of the Supreme Court
JUOKalUrVt re r, L AC • t_ • I • f j- • •
of South Africa, which consists of two divisions, namely
the Supreme Court and the Appellate Division. Appeals from the
decisions of the provincial and local divisions of the court and from
those of the High Court of southern Rhodesia, must be made to the
appellate division of the Supreme Court. Unless special leave of
the privy council be obtained there can be no appeal from the deci-
sions of the Appellate Division, save in admiralty cases. This
restriction of the power of appeal to the privy council is much greater
than are the restrictions upon appeals from the Commonwealth
of Australia, where appeals to the privy council lie by right from
the several state Supreme Courts. The difference arises from the
fact that the Commonwealth is a federation of states; whereas the
Union of South Africa is but one state with but one Supreme Court.
One result of this unification of the courts of South Africa is that
any provincial or local division of the Supreme Court in which an
action is begun can order its transference to another division if
that course be deemed more convenient. Moreover the judgments
of each provincial division can be registered and enforced in any
other division. The administration of justice throughout the Union
is vested in a minister of state who has all the powers of the attorney-
generals of the several colonies at the time of the Union, save that
power as to the prosecution of crimes is vested in each province
in an official appointed by the governor-general in council and styled
the attorney-general of the province.
Among the general provisions of the constitution the most im-
portant is that both the English and Dutch languages are official
languages of the Union and are treated on a footing of equality ;
all records of parliament, and all notices of general public neaerai
importance or interest issued by the government of provisfoas
the Union must be in both languages. (Persons
in the public service at the establishment of the Union cannot,
however, be dispensed with because of lack of knowledge of either
English or Dutch.) Other general provisions enact free trade
throughout the Union, but the customs and excise leviable under
the laws existing in any of the colonies at the establishment of Union
remain in force unless parliament otherwise provides. All persons
who had been naturalized in any of the colonies are naturalized
throughout the Union. All rights and obligations under conventions
and agreements which were binding on any of the colonies have
devolved upon the Union.
The harbours of Cape Town, Port Elizabeth, East London and
Durban are state owned, as are also nearly all the railways in the
Union. All revenues derived from these services are paid into a
separate fund. The administration of the railways, ports and har-
bours is entrusted to a board of not more than three commissioners
(appointed by the governor-general in council) presided over by a
minister of state. Each commissioner holds office for five years
and may be reappointed. The board is directed to administer its
service on business principles, due regard being had to agricultural
and industrial development, &c., within the Union. So far as may
be the total earnings are not to be more than are sufficient to meet
necessary outlays.
Provincial Administration. — While the Union parliament has
full power to make laws for the whole of the Union, to provincial
councils have been delegated the immediate control of affairs
relating solely to the provinces. The subjects delegated to
the councils include direct taxation within the provinces for
local revenue purposes, the borrowing of money (on the sole
credit of the provinces) with the consent of the ministry; agri-
culture (within the limits denned by parliament) and municipal
institutions, divisional councils, and other local institutions.
The control of elementary education was also guaranteed
to the provincial councils up to 1915, and thereafter until
parliament otherwise provides.
The councils consist of not fewer than 25 members and not more
than the number of members returned by the province to the House
of Assembly. Each councillor represents a separate constituency,
these constituencies, as far as possible, to be the same as the parlia-
mentary constituencies. (In the Cape and Transvaal provinces
they were the same in 1910; Natal and Orange Free State returning
only 17 members to the House of Assembly, the parliamentary
constituencies have been rearranged.) The qualifications for
electors are the same as for parliament, and any person qualified
to vote is qualified to be a member of the council. As in the Cape
province coloured persons are qualified to vote, they are thus also
qualified to_ be members of the provincial council. Any member
of the provincial council who becomes a member of either House
of Parliament thereupon ceases to be a member of such provincial
council. Each provincial council continues for three years from
the date of its first meeting and is not subject to dissolution save
by effluxion of time.
The executive power in each province is invested in an officer
appointed by the government and styled provincial administrator.
He holds office for five years. The administrator is assisted by an
executive committee of four persons elected from among its own
members, or otherwise, by the provincial council on the proportional
representation principle. The administrator and any other member
of the executive committee, not being a member of the council, has
the right to take part in the proceedings of the council, but has not
the right to vote. The provincial councils have not the right to
make laws, but ordinances, which must receive the assent of the
governor-general in council before becoming valid. (F. R. C.)
III. — HISTORY
The history of South Africa is, almost entirely, that of its
colonization by European races, of their conflicts with, and
influence over, its native inhabitants, and of the struggle for
supremacy between the British and Dutch settlers. The
little that is known concerning the doings of the natives before
the appearance of the white man belongs to the domain of
ethnology rather than of history. When the Portuguese first
reached the southern part of Africa there was but one place in
it where a civilized race held sway. This was at Sofala, the
most southerly post of the East African Arabs. From that port
the Arabs traded for ivory, slaves and (principally) gold with
Bantu peoples of the far interior — the Rhodesia of to-day.
These natives, whose earliest existing buildings may go back
to the time of the Norman Conquest, were in a higheV state of
HISTORY]
SOUTH AFRICA
469
development than the Bushmen and Hottentots living farther
south. The part played by the various native races in modifying
the character of the European colonization will be best considered
as they successively came into contact with the white settlers.
At this point it is only necessary to state that at the same time
as the Europeans were slowly extending northward from the
south-western point of the continent, a conquering race of
Bantu negro stock, originating from somewhere beyond the
Zambezi, was spreading southward along the western side of the
country.
A. From the Discovery of the Cape to the Great Trek. — What
led to the discovery of America led also to the discovery, exploita-
tion and colonization of South Africa.- In the isth century the
great Eastern trade with Europe was carried on by the Venetian
Republic — Venice was the gate from West to East, and her
fleets, richly laden with goods brought down to the shores of the
Mediterranean in caravans, supplied Europe with the luxuries
of the Orient. It was in that century that Portugal rose to
prominence as a maritime power; and being anxious to enjoy
at first hand some of the commerce which had brought such
prosperity to Venice, Portugal determined to seek out an ocean
pathway to the Indies. It was with this intention that Bar-
tholomew Diaz, sailing southwards, discovered the Cape of Good
Hope in I488.1 Nine years after the discovery of the Cape by
Diaz another Portuguese expedition was fitted out under Vasco
da Gama. Da Gama entered Table Bay, but did not land.
Thence he pushed on round the coast, landed in Mossel Bay,
then sailing up the south-east coast he sighted land again on
the zsth of December 1497, and named it in honour of the day,
Natal. Still proceeding northwards he entered the Quilimane
River and eventually reached India.
For many years subsequent to this date South Africa repre-
sented merely an inconvenient promontory to be rounded on the
voyage to the Indies. Ships stopped at different ports, or rather
at such few natural harbours as the inhospitable coast offered,
from time to time, but no attempt was made by the Portuguese
to colonize the southern end of the continent. On the west
coast their southernmost settlement for a long period was
Benguella, and the history of Angola (q.v.) had not until the
last quarter of the igth century any close connexion with that
of South Africa. On the east coast the Portuguese were masters
of Sofala by 1506, and a trading-post was first established in
Delagoa Bay in 1545. Here alone Portugal obtained an impor-
tant foothold in South Africa. But between Benguella on the
west and Lourengo Marques on the east the Portuguese made
no attempt to form permanent settlements or trading stations
along the coast. It was too barren a shore to prove attractive
when the riches of East Africa and India were available.
The first Europeans to follow in the wake of the Portuguese
voyagers were the English. In 1601 the English East India
English Company fitted out a fleet of five vessels, which
East India sailed from Torbay. After four months at sea they
Company. dropped their anchors in Table Bay, where they
remained for seven weeks before proceeding eastwards. From
that time forward Table Bay was used as an occasional port of
call for British ships, and in 1620 two English captains formally
took possession of the Cape in the name of James I. This
patriotic act was not, however, sufficiently appreciated by either
King James I. or the English East India Company to evoke any
official confirmation on their part. Meanwhile the Dutch East
India Company had been formed in Holland, and the Dutch
had entered keenly into the competition for the glittering
prizes of Eastern commerce. In 1648 one of their ships was
stranded in Table Bay, and the shipwrecked crew were left to
forage for themselves on shore for several months. They were
so pleased with the resources of the country that on their return
to Holland they represented to the directors of the company
the great advantages that would accrue to the Dutch Eastern
trade from a properly provided and fortified station of call at
the Cape. The result was that in 1652 a fort and vegetable
1 The date usually assigned (1486), on the authority of De Barros,
has been snown to be incorrect (see DIAZ).
gardens were laid out at Table Bay by a Dutch expedition
sent for the purpose under a surgeon named Jan van Riebeek.
In 1657 a few soldiers and sailors, discharged by the Dutch
East India Company, had farms allotted them, and these men
constituted the first so-called " free burghers." Dutch East
By this step the station became a plantation or lad/a
settlement. More settlers were landed from time to Cotopaoy.
time, including a number of orphan girls from Amsterdam, and
during 1688-1689 the colony was greatly strengthened by the
arrival of some three hundred Huguenots (men, women
and children), who were located at Stellenbosch, Drakenstein,
Frenchhoek and Paarl. In process of time the French settlers
were absorbed in the Dutch population, but they have had an
enduring influence on the character of the people. The little
settlement gradually spread eastwards, and in 1754 the country
as far as Algoa Bay was included in the colony. At this time
the white colonists numbered eight to ten thousand. They
possessed numerous slaves, grew wheat in sufficient quantity
to make it an article of export, and were famed for the good
quality of their wines. But their chief wealth was in cattle.
Such prosperity as they enjoyed was in despite of the system of
government prevailing. All through the latter half of the i7th
and the whole of the i8th century troubles arose from time to
time between the colonists and the government. The adminis-
tration of the Dutch East India Company was of an extremely
despotic character. The most complete account of the com-
pany's tenure and government of the Cape was written in 1857
by E. B. Watermeyer, a Cape colonist of Dutch descent resid-
ing in Cape- Town. He points out that it was after failing
to find a route by the north-east to China and Japan that the
Dutch turned their eyes to the Cape route. The Cape of Good
Hope subsequently " became not a colony of the Republic of
the United Provinces, but a dependency of the ' Nether-
lands Chartered General East India Company ' for mercantile
purposes; and to this fact principally can be traced the slow
progress, in all but extension of territory, of a country which
was settled by Europeans within thirty years of the time when
the Pilgrim Fathers, the founders of a mighty empire, landed at
Plymouth to plant democratic institutions and European
civilization in the West."
On the settlement under van Riebeek, and the position in
it which the so-called " free burghers " enjoyed, this candid
Dutch writer throws an interesting light.
" The people," he says, " who came here with Riebeek himself
were not colonists intending permanently to settle at the Cape. . . .
The proposition that any freemen or burghers not in the pay of
the company should be encouraged to cultivate the ground was
first made about three years after Riebeek's arrival. Accordingly,
some discharged sailors and soldiers, who received on certain condi-
tions plots of ground extending from the Fresh River to the
Liesbeek, were the first free burghers of the colony. . . . Here it
is sufficient to say that, generally, the term ' free burgher ' was
a complete misnomer. The first burghers were, in truth, a mere
change from paid to unpaid servants of the company. They thought,
in obtaining their discharge, that they had much improved their
condition, but they soon discovered the reverse to be the fact.
And henceforward, to the end of the last [iSth] century we fird the
constantly repeated and well-founded complaint, that the company
and its officers possessed every advantage, while the freemen were
not allowed even the fruit of their own toil. . . . The natural effect
of this narrow and tyrannous rule was discontent, amounting often
to disaffection. After a time every endeavour was made to escape
beyond the immediate control of the authorities. Thus the ' trek-
king ' system, with its attendant evils, the bane of South Africa,
was born. By their illiberal spirit, which sought but temporary
commercial advantage in connexion with the Eastern trade, the
Dutch authorities themselves, although generally humanely disposed
towards the natives, created the system which caused their oppres-
sion and extermination."
When it is borne in mind that the Dutch at the Cape were
for one hundred and forty-three years under the rule of the
Dutch East India Company, the importance of a correct appre-
ciation of the nature of that rule to any student of South African
history is obvious. No modern writer approaches Watermeyer
either in the completeness of his facts or the severity of his
indictment. Referring to the policy of the company, Watermeyer
says: —
470
SOUTH AFRICA
[HISTORY
The Dutch colonial system as exemplified at the Cape of Good
Hope, or rather the system of the Dutch East India Company
(for the nation should not wholly suffer under the condemnation
justly incurred by a trading association that sought only pecuniary
profit), was almost without one redeeming feature, and was a dis-
honour to the Netherlands' national name. In all things political
it was purely despotic; in all things commercial, it was purely
monopolist. The Dutch East India Company cared nought for
the progress of the colony — provided only that they had a refresh-
ment station for their richly laden fleets, and that the English,
French, Danes and Portuguese had not. Whatever tended to
infringe in the slightest degree on their darling monopoly was
visited with the severest penalties, whether the culprit chanced
to be high in rank or low. An instance of this, ludicrous while
grossly tyrannical, is preserved in the records. Commander van
Quaelbergen, the third of the Dutch governors of the colony, was
dismissed from the government in 1667, and expelled the service
of the company, because he had interchanged civilities with a French
governor bound eastwards, the United Provinces being then at
peace with France.1
Of this nature was the foreign policy of the Dutch company at
the Cape of Good Hope ; modified, indeed, in some degree from time
to time, but governed by principles of jealous, stringent monopoly
until the surrender of the colony by Commissioner Sluysken in
1795. The internal government of the colonists for the entire
duration of the East India Company's rule was always tyrannical,
often oppressive in the extreme. With proclamations, placaats and
statutes abundantly filling huge tomes, the caprice of the governor
was in truth the law. A mockery of popular institutions, under
the name of a burgher council, indeed existed; but this was a mere
delusion, and must not be confounded with the system of local
government by means of district burgher councils which that most
able man, Commissioner de Mist, sought to establish during the
brief government of the Batavian Republic from 1803 to 1806, when
the Dutch nation, convinced and ashamed of the false policy by
which they had permitted a mere money-making association to
disgrace the Batavian name, and to entail degradation on what
might have been a free and prosperous colony, sought to redeem
their error by making this country a national colonial possession,
instead of a slavish property, to be neglected, oppressed or ruined,
as the caprice or avarice of its merchant owners might dictate.
From time to time servants in the direct employment of the
company were endowed with the right of " freeburghers,"
but the company retained the power to compel them
Boers *o return into its service whenever they deemed it
necessary. This right to enforce into servitude those
who might incur the displeasure of the governor or other high
officers was not only exercised with reference to the individuals
themselves who had received this conditional freedom; it
was, adds Watermeyer, claimed by the government to be ap-
plicable likewise to the children of all such. The effect of this
tyranny was inevitable: it drove men to desperation. They fled
from oppression; and thus trekking began, not in 1835, as is gen-
erally stated, but before 1700. From 1720 to 1780 trekking had
gone steadily forwards. In 1780 van Plettenberg, the governor,
proclaimed the Sneeuwbergen the northern boundary of the
colony, expressing " the anxious hope that no more extension
should take place, and with heavy penalties forbidding the
rambling peasants to wander beyond." In 1789 so strong had
feeling amongst the burghers become that delegates were sent
from the Cape to interview the authorities at Amsterdam.
After this deputation some nominal reforms were granted; but
in 1795 a number of burghers settled in the Swellendam and
Graaf Reinet districts drove out the officials of the company and
established independent governments. The rebellion was
accompanied by an assertion of rights on the part of the
burghers or freemen, which contained the following clause,
the spirit of which animated many of the Trek Boers: —
That every Bushman or Hottentot, male or female, whether
made prisoner by commanders or caught by individuals, as well in
time past as in future, shall for life be the lawful property of such
burghers as may possess them, and serve in bondage from generation
to generation. And if such Hottentots should escape, the owner
shall be entitled to foljow them up and to punish them, according
to their merits in his discretion.
1 It was not until the time of Ryk Tulbagh (governor of the colony,
I75l~177l) that the Chamber ot Seventeen permitted foreign ships
to provision at Table Bay. Tulbagh was the most popular of the
governors under the East India Company. During his governorship
no new taxes were levied on the burghers. He was succeeded by
van Plettenberg.
And as to the ordinary Hottentot, already in service, brought
up at the places of Christians, the children of these shall be compelled
to serve until their twenty-fifth year, and may not go into the service
of any other save with their master's consent ; that no Hottentot,
in future deserting his service shall be entitled to refuge or protection
in any part of the colony, but that the authorities throughout the
country shall immediately, whatever be the alleged cause of desertion,
send back the fugitive to his master.
After one hundred and forty-three years the rule of the Dutch
East India Company came to an end at the Cape. What its
principles were we already have seen. Watermeyer recapitulates
its effects as follows: —
The effects of this pseudo-colonization were that the Dutch, as
a commercial nation, destroyed commerce. The most industrious
race of Europe, they repressed industry. One of the freest states in
the world, they encouraged a despotic misrule in which falsely-called
free citizens were enslaved. These men, in their turn, became tyrants.
Utter anarchy was the result. Some national feeling may have
lingered, but, substantially, every man in the country, of every hue,
was benefited when the incubus of the tyranny of the Dutch East
India Company was removed.
To this one further note must be added. The Trek Boers
of the i gth century were the lineal descendants of the Trek Boers
of the 1 8th. What they had learnt of government from the
Dutch East India Company they carried into the wilderness
with them. The end of the igth century saw a revival of this
same tyrannical monopolist policy in the Transvaal. If Water-
meyer's formula, " In all things political, purely despotic; in all
things ccmmercial, purely monopolist," was true of the govern-
ment of the Dutch East India Company in the i8th century.
it was equally true of Kruger's government in the latter part
of the igth.
The rule of the Dutch East India Company was extinguished
(September 1795) by the occupation of the colony by the British,
who acted on behalf of the prince of Orange, Holland having
fallen under the control of the revolutionary government of
France. Following the peace of Amiens the colony was handed
over (February 1803) by Great Britain to a commissioner of the
Batavian Republic. During the eight years the British held
the Cape notable reforms in the government were effected, but
the country remained essentially Dutch, and few British settlers
were attracted to it. Its cost to the British exchequer during
this period was £16,000,000. The Batavian Republic enter-
tained very liberal views as to the administration of the country.
but they had little opportunity for giving them effect. In less
than three years (January 1806) the Cape was reconquered by
the British, who were at war both with France and Holland.
The occupation was at first of a provisional character, but by
the third additional article to the convention with the Nether-
lands of the I3th of August 1814 the country was definitely
ceded to Great Britain. In consideration of retaining the Cape
and the Dutch settlements now constituting British
Guiana, Great Britain paid £6,000,000. The British
title to Cape Colony is thus based upon conquest,
treaty and purchase. The wishes of the inhabitants were not
consulted, and among them resentment was felt at the way in
which their future was thus disposed of. The Europeans at the
Cape at that time numbered about 27,000.
Before tracing the history of South Africa during the igth
century, the early relations of the white settlers with the natives
maybe briefly reviewed. The natives first encoun- ^f/y Rtia.
tered at the Cape were the Hottentots (q.v.). They tioaswHh
at that time occupied the Cape peninsula and sur-
rounding country, and in the early days of the
settlement caused the colonists a considerable amount of
trouble. An extract from the diary of van Riebeek in 1659
will best illustrate the nature of the relations existing between
colonists and natives at that time: —
yd June. — Wet weather as before, to the prevention of our
operations. Our people who are out against the plundering Hotten-
tots, can effect nothing, neither can they effect anything against
us; thus during the whole week they have been vainly trying to get
at our cattle, and we have been trying vainly to get at their persons;
but we will hope that we may once fall in with them in fine weather,
and that the Lord God will be with us.
HISTORY]
SOUTH AFRICA
47
Next to the Hottentots the white settlers encountered the
Bushmen (q.v.). When first known to the early colonists they
were inveterate stock thieves, and were treated as wild animals,
to be shot whenever an opportunity occurred.1 Such opposition
as Hottentots and Bushmen were able to offer to European
colonization was not difficult to overcome (see CAPE COLONY:
History). The expansion of the colony was little retarded by
native opposition until the Dutch encountered the Bantu negro
tribes. As already stated, the Bantus, like the Europeans, were
invaders of South Africa, and the meeting of these rival invaders
was the cause of many bloody conflicts. At first the Cape
government endeavoured to come to an amicable arrangement
with the new power threatening its eastern border, and in 1780
it was agreed that the Great Fish River should be the permanent
boundary between the colonial and Bantu territories. The
Bantus or Kaffirs (.zO, as they were universally called, then held
all the coast-lands between Delagoa Bay and the Great Fish
River, and for many years they were strong enough to bar the
further progress eastward of the white races. But the agreement
of 1780 was impossible of fulfilment. The peace was broken
in 1789 by an invasion of the colonial territory by the Kaffirs,
and this conflict proved to be but the first of a series of Kaffir
wars which lasted for a century. In 1811 it was deemed neces-
sary to expel the Kaffirs from the Zuurveld, and the British
headquarters in that campaign became the site of Graham's Town.
In 1817-1819 the Kaffirs returned and laid waste a large area.
They were driven back and the country up to the Keiskama
River annexed to the colony; but the disaster which nearly
overwhelmed the eastern province convinced Lord Charles
Somerset, then governor of the colony, of the necessity for a line
British of frontier forts and a more numerous settlement of
Settlers of colonists. Representations on the matter in England,
IS2°- coupled with assurances from Somerset as to the
fertility of the district, induced the British government to vote
£50,000 for the purpose of sending out a number of emigrants,
Applications were called for, and no fewer than 90,000 were
received. Of these, only 4000 were selected and shipped to
South Africa. They were landed in 1820, in Algoa Bay, where
they founded Port Elizabeth and the Albany settlement. Among
these settlers were a number of married men with families.
They were recruited from England, Ireland and Scotland, and
came from all grades of society. Among them were cadets of
old families, retired officers, professional men, farmers, trades-
men, mechanics and labourers. They encountered many difficul-
ties and some suffering in their early days, but on the whole
they throve and prospered. Their descendants, the Atherstones,
Bowkers, Barbers, Woods, Whites, Turveys, and a number of
other well-known frontier families, are to-day the backbone of
the eastern district of the Cape, and furnish the largest portion
of the progressive element in that province. Among them was
a gifted Scotsman named Thomas Pringle (1789-1834). His
poems, including " Afar in the desert I love to ride," depict the
scenes of those early days in glowing lines. The vast spaces of
the veld, the silence of the solitudes, the marvellous, varied and
abundant animal life, the savage, half-weird character of the
natives and the wild adventure of the early colonists have been
caught with a true spirit of genius. Since his day no one, unless
it be Olive Schreiner in The Story of an African Farm, has so
vividly painted the life and the atmosphere of that vast continent
lying to the south of the Zambezi.
Various Protestant missions had sent agents among the natives
during the closing years of the i8th century, and after the
definite acquisition of the Cape by Great Britain the number of
missionaries in the country greatly increased. Many became
pioneers, settling in regions beyond the limits of British juris-
diction. Others remained within Cape Colony, while several
were stationed among the Kaffirs along the colonial border.
The missionaries from the first often found themselves at variance
1 It appears that the first persons to treat the Bushmen other than
as animals to be destroyed were two missionaries, Messrs J. J.
Kicherer and Edwards, who in the early years of the Kjth century
devoted themselves to ameliorating the lot of these aborigines.
with the Dutch and also the British settlers, whose methods of
dealing with the natives often deserved condemnation. At this
period Dr John Philip (q.v.), of the London Missionary Society,
was the most prominent of the missionaries in the colony, and
his influence was powerful with the home government. The
publication in 1828 of his book Researches in South Africa had
an important effect on the future of the country. The British
government adopted his negrophil attitude and made its agents
at the Cape conform to it. The equality of all free Hottentots
and other free persons of colour with the white colonists was
decreed in that year (1820). Philip's action lacked discrimina-
tion, and his faith in the natives was excessive. His charges
greatly embittered the Boers, who were further aggrieved by the
emancipation of the slaves. The Slave Emancipation Act,
freeing all slaves throughout the British Empire, Bmanclpa-
came into force in December i834.2 The slaves in "on of
Cape Colony, who consisted of negroes from Mozam- Slaves-
bique, natives of Madagascar, and of Hottentots and Malays were
estimated at the time at 36,000. The Cape governments — both
Dutch and British — had been consistently averse from the
importation of slaves in large numbers, and the great majority
of the slaves were therefore Hottentots. The sum voted by the
British government to slave-owners in Cape Colony, out of a
total compensation paid of £20,000,000, was £1,250,000 (the
official estimate of their value being £3,000,000). This money
was only made payable in London, and the farmers were com-
pelled to sell their claims for compensation to agents, who
frequently paid a merely nominal price for them. In many
instances farmers were unable to obtain native labour for a
considerable time after the emancipation, and in several cases
ruin was the result. A very bitter feeling was thus created
among the Dutch colonists.
The championship of the natives by the missionaries led to
attacks, in part justified, upon the policy of the missions not
only by the Dutch, but by the British colonists. The zeal of
the missionaries frequently outran their discretion. This was
especially the case in early days. They not only endeavoured
to protect and guide the natives beyond the colonial border,
but among the Hottentots within the colony they instilled notions
of antipathy to the white farmers, and withdrew large numbers
of them from agricultural pursuits. Their general attitude may
be explained as a reaction against the abuses which they saw
going on around them, and to a misconception of the character
of the Hottentot and Bantu races. A longer experience of all the
African negroid races has led to a considerable modification in
the views originally held in regard to them. The Work of
black man is not simply a morally and intellectually the Mis-
undeveloped European, and education, except in rare sloaarles-
instances, does not put him on an equality with the European.
But, admitting all that may be justly urged against the extreme
attitude of some of the missionaries, no unprejudiced man will
deny that their work on the whole has been a good one. The
fair fame of Great Britain has more than once been upheld in
South Africa at the instigation and by the conduct of these
intrepid pioneers. Robert Moffat and David Livingstone among
the Bechuanas, E. Cassalis among the Basutos, Francois Coillard
among the Barotse, James Stewart in Cape Colony, to name but
a few of the great missionaries, have all had an excellent influence
upon the natives. They have (besides their purely spiritual
work) opposed the sale of alcohol, denounced inhumanity from
the farmers, encouraged the natives to labour and taught them
mechanical arts. Technical education, begun about 1840, now
occupies a position little, if at all, inferior to that of doctrinal
teaching, and the effect is an excellent one. Strong testimony
to the beneficial result of their labours was borne by a thoroughly
impartial commission, presided over by Sir Godfrey Lagden,
which in 1903-1905 investigated the status and condition of the
natives of South Africa.
To return to the period of Dr Philip's activity.3 Largely upon
1 The slaves, after passing four years in a species of apprenticeship,
were finally freed on the 1st of December 1838.
3 At this time (c. 1815—1840) numbers of persons brought discredit
on the missionary cause by their illiteracy, narrow-minded prejudices
472
SOUTH AFRICA
[HISTORY
his advice it was decided to create a band of native states on
the northern and eastern frontiers of the colony. These treaty
states, as they were called, were intended to serve
States. a double purpose; they would be a barrier protecting
the colony from the inroads of hostile tribes, and they
would enable native civilized nations to grow up (under the tute-
lage of the missionaries) strong enough to protect themselves
from the encroachments of the whites. In fact, neither of these
results followed. With one exception, that of Moshesh, the
chief of the Basutos, none of the chiefs with whom treaties were
made were men powerful enough to found kingdoms, nor had
they, in most cases, any better right than their neighbours to
the territory recognized as theirs by the British government.
Moreover, to treat these men as independent or semi-independent
princes was a complete mistake; the failure of the treaty state
system is now seen to have been inevitable. The first treaty of
this kind was concluded on the nth of December 1834 with a
Griqua chief named Andries Waterboer. This chieftain lived
north of the Orange river in the district now known as Griqua-
land West, and ruled over some 4000 people, a bastard race
sprung from the intercourse between Boers and native women. In
1843 two more of these treaty states were established, one under
Adam Kok (the third of that name) and the other under Moshesh.
Adam Kok had under him a small number of Griquas, who
dwelt in the country east of that occupied by Waterboer (see
GRIQUALAND). And east of this country, again, was a tract
of territory occupied by Basutos under Moshesh. In the same
way Pondoland was established as a treaty state in 1844. The
distinction between these states must be remembered to under-
stand aright subsequent developments. Moshesh ruled over a
region largely mountainous and over a people numerous and
virile; Pondoland was sornewhat remote and was densely in-
habited by warlike Kaffirs; the two Griqua states were, however,
missionary creations; they were thinly inhabited and occupied
open plains easy of access — hence their ultimate collapse.
The year which witnessed the emancipation of the slaves and
the creation of the first treaty state also saw the beginning
of another disastrous Kaffir war. Fighting began in December
1834, and lasted nearly a year. The Kaffirs wrought great havoc,
and Sir Benjamin D 'Urban (q.v.), the governor, in order to secure
peace, extended the boundary of the colony to the Kei river.
The Kaffirs had suffered much injustice, especially from the
commando-reprisal system, but they had also committed many
injustices, and for the disturbed state of the border the vacil-
lating policy of the Cape government was largely to blame.
Sir Benjamin's policy — which had the cordial approval both of
the Dutch and the British colonists — was one of close settlement
by whites in certain districts and military control of the Kaffirs
in other regions, and it would have done much to ensure peace.
Lord Glenelg, secretary for the colonies in Lord Melbourne's
second administration, held that the Kaffirs were in the right
in the quarrel, and he compelled D'Urban to abandon the
conquered territory, a mistaken decision adopted largely on the
advice of Dr Philip and his supporters. Thus at this time (1836)
a critical state had arisen in South Africa. The colonists had lost
their slaves, the eastern frontier was in a state of insecurity,
native interests appeared to be preferred to those of the whites.
The British immigrants of 1820 were still struggling
against heavy odds; the Dutch colonists were in a
state of great indignation. In these circumstances
what is known as the Great Trek occurred. It lasted from 1836
to 1840. During that period no fewer than 7000 Boers (including
women and children), impatient of British rule, emigrated from
Cape Colony into the great plains beyond the Orange river, and
across them again into Natal and into the fastnesses of the
Zoutspanberg, in the northern part of the Transvaal.
In view of the vast consequences ensuing from this exodus of
Dutch families from the Cape a somewhat detailed consideration
and in some cases lax sexual morality. These persons " assumed
to themselves the important office of teachers in the missionary
schools within the colony." See H. Cloete's The Great Boer Trek,
lecture II.
The Oreat
Trefc -
of its causes is necessary. Material for forming a judgment will
be found chiefly in the correspondence of Sir Benjamin D'Urban
with the Colonial Office, in the statements made by the voor-
trekkers, and in a series of lectures delivered in Pietermaritzburg
in 1852-1855 by the Hon. Henry Cloete, whose statements as
to the causes of the trek were founded on intimate knowledge and
are impartially set forth. Piet Relief, the ablest of the leaders
of the exodus, on the eve of leaving the colony published a de-
claration at Graham's Town, dated January 22nd 1837, in which
he declared the chief reasons animating the emigrants to be: —
1. We despair of saving the colony from those evils which threaten
it by the turbulent and dishonest conduct of vagrants, who are
allowed to infest the country in every part ; nor do we see any pros-
pect of peace or happiness for our children in a country thus dis-
tracted by internal commotions.
2. We complain of the severe losses which we have been forced
to sustain by the emancipation of our slaves, and the vexatious laws
which have been enacted respecting them.
3. We complain of the continual system of plunder which we
have ever endured from the Kafirs and other colored classes, and
particularly by the last invasion of the colony, which has desolated
the frontier districts and ruined most of the inhabitants.
4. We complain of the unjustifiable odium which has been cast
upon us by interested and dishonest persons, under the cloak of
religion, whose testimony is believed in England to the exclusion
of all evidence in our favour; and we can foresee, as the result of
this prejudice, nothing but the total ruin of the country.1
These four points correspond to the " three great grievances "
under which the farmers suffered, enumerated by Cloete as
(i) The Hottentot Question (I.e. the first and fourth points of
Relief's manifesto combined); (2) The Slave Question; (3) The
Kaffir Question. Enough has already been said as to the relations
between the missionaries, the Boer farmers and the Hottentots;
this grievance, however, " proved quite secondary to the inten-
sity'of feeling with which the colonists saw the steps taken by
the government to deprive them of that labour (slave labour)
over which they claimed an unquestionable right of property." a
Then came the Kaffir War of 1834-1835, the reversal by the home
government of the statesmanlike settlement of Sir Benjamin
D'Urban, and the refusal of any compensation to the sufferers
from the war, whose losses amounted to some £500,000. These,
then, were the direct causes of the voluntary expatriation of the
majority of the first trekkers, who included some of the best
families in the colony, but they fail to explain the profound
hostility to Great Britain which thereafter animated many,
but not all, of the emigrants, nor do they account for the easy
abandonment of their homes by numbers of the trekkers. The
underlying fact which made the trek possible is that the Dutch-
descended colonists in the eastern and north-eastern parts of the
colony were not cultivators of the soil, but of purely pastoral
and nomad habits, ever ready to seek new pastures for
their flocks and herds, and possessing no special affection
for any particular locality. In the next place these people,
thinly scattered over a wide extent of territory, had lived for
long under little restraint from the laws, and when in 1815, by
the institution of " Commissions of Circuit," justice was brought
nearer to their homes, various offences were brought to light,
the remedying of which caused much resentment. An effort to
bring a man named Frederick Bezuidenhout to justice led to
armed resistance and finally to the hanging of five men at
Slachter's Nek in circumstances that made an indelible impression
throughout the frontier (see CAPE COLONY: History). It intensi-
fied in the minds of many Boers the feeling of hostility towards
the British already existing; some of the trekkers in 1836-1840
had taken part in and others had passively aided the rebellion
of 1815 — " the most insane attempt ever made by a set of men
to wage war against their sovereign " (Cloete, op. cit. p. 28).
What, however, was probably the most powerful motive of the
Great Trek was the equality established by the British between
the black and white races. In the eyes of the Boers the possi-
bility of equality between the whites and the natives was not
1 See F. R. Cana, South Africa from the Great Trek to the Union
(London, 1909), pp. 295-297 for the full text of Retief's manifesto.
1 See H. Cloete, The History of the Great Boer Trek (London,
1899), p. 44.
HISTORY]
SOUTH AFRICA
473
admitted. This sentiment, which found formal recognition
later on in the constitution of the South African Republic, was
held in fullest force by the voortrekkers. Summing up, it may
be said that the exasperation caused by just grievances unreme-
died was no stronger a motive with the trekkers than the desire
to be free from the restraints imposed on British subjects and the
wish to be able to deal with the natives after their own fashion.
The departure of so large a number of persons caused serious
misgiving both to the Cape and the home governments. The
trekkers had been told by the lieutenant-governor of the eastern
province (Sir Andries Stockenstrom) that he was not aware of
any law which prevented any British subject from settling in
another country, and in the words of Piet Relief's declaration
they quitted the colony " under the full assurance that the English
government has nothing more to require of us, and will allow
us to govern ourselves without its interference in future."
The British government thought otherwise; they held that the
trekkers could not divest themselves of their allegiance to the
Crown. Moreover, though the farmers might leave British terri-
tory they were still held to be liable to the jurisdiction of British
courts. An act passed in 1836 (the Cape of Good Hope Punish-
ment Act) empowered the colonial courts to deal with offences
committed by British subjects in any part of South Africa up to
the 25th degree of south latitude. Intended by its authors to
protect the native tribes from aggression on the part of white
men and to check the exploration by Europeans of the lands of
the Kaffirs, Bechuanas, &c., the act led in fact to the assertion
of British authority in regions beyond the Cape frontier.
B. From the Foundation of the Republics to Majuba. — While
the home government was seeking to prevent the expansion
Foundation °^ tne white races the first steps had been taken
of the Boer by a body of Englishmen to found a new colony at
Republics Natal. Since 1824 a few traders had been settled
and Natal. at pQrt jjatal, and m jg^ formai petition was made
that their settlement should be recognized as a British colony.
The request was refused, and not long afterwards (1837) some of
the Dutch emigrant farmers under Retief entered the country
by way of the Drakensberg. Retief, like his English prede-
cessors at Port Natal (known also since 1835 as Durban),
sought a formal grant of territory from the chief of the Zulu
nation, the Zulus being the acknowledged overlords of the tribes
living in Natal. Retief and his party were, however, treacher-
ously murdered by Dingaan, the Zulu king (February 1838).
Other trekkers followed in the wake of Retief, and attacking
Dingaan avenged the massacre.
The Boers then established a republican government at Maritz-
burg. Though most anxious to avoid any extension of
responsibility in South Africa, Great Britain recognized the
potential danger arising from the creation of an independent
state on the coast. The Boers at first rejected offers of
accommodation. Troops were then sent to the country, and
finally a settlement was made by Henry Cloete, the British
commissioner, with the Boer leaders, and Natal constituted a
British colony in 1843. Many Boers, dissatisfied with this
arrangement, withdrew beyond the Drakensberg. Natal shortly
afterwards received a considerable number of emigrants from
England, and the white inhabitants have since been predomi-
nantly British. At first Natal was dependent on Cape Colony.
In 1856 it was constituted a separate colony, but it did not
possess self-government until 1893. A notable departure from
the labour policy of the other states was made by Natal in
1860, when Indian coolies were introduced. At the time the
matter attracted little attention, but the Asiatic inhabitants
speedily increased, and forty years later they outnumbered the
whites (see NATAL).
It had taken the British government nearly ten years to decide
on the annexation of Natal; its policy towards the Boers settled
north of the Orange was marked by the same hesitation (see
ORANGE FREE STATE). By 1847, when Sir Harry Smith became
high commissioner, the failure of the treaty state policy was
evident. Sir Harry, deeming no other course open to him, pro-
claimed (February 1848) the country between the Orange and Vaal
rivers British territory, under the name of the Orange River
Sovereignty. Sir Harry had, in the previous December, extended
the northern frontier of Cape Colony to the Orange, orange
and had reoccupied the territory on the Kaffir border River Sore-
which D 'Urban had been forced to abandon.1 The nl*aiy-
extension of British rule north of the Orange was opposed by
Andries Pretorius, who, being defeated at Boomplaats, withdrew
north of the Vaal, where, though not interfered with by the
British, the Boers split up into several rival parties. In the Sove-
reignty difficulties arose in defining the reserves of the native
chiefs, and with the Basutos there were armed conflicts. The
home government (the first Russell administration), which had
reluctantly consented to confirm Sir Harry Smith's annexation
of the Orange River territory, on learning of these difficulties,
and also that many of the burghers remained dissatisfied, changed
their policy, and in 1851 the governor was informed that the
ultimate abandonment of the Sovereignty was a settled point.2
In fulfilment of their settled policy to keep the British South
African dominions within the smallest possible limits, the cabinet
decided to recognize the independence of the Boers living
beyond the Vaal. This recognition, the necessary preliminary
to the abandonment of the Orange River Sovereignty, was made
in the Sand River Convention on the 1 7th of January jaaepeaa.
1852. The Transvaal thus became an independent eaceofthe
state, or rather it formed a number of mutually Transvaal
jealous communities, and it was not until 1864 that Rec°xalzed-
they were all united. Despite their distracted condition the
Transvaal Boers had no sooner obtained their independence than
they began to make claims to authority in Bechuanaland. But
the championship of the Bechuanas by Moffat, Livingstone and
other missionaries, and their determination that the road to the
interior should not be closed by the Boers, had its effect, and
the Beers did not succeed in making themselves masters of the
country (see TRANSVAAL: History, and BECHUANALAND). The
British government meantime pursued its policy of abandon-
ment, and in February 1854, by the Bloemfontein Convention,
forced, independence upon the people of the Sovereignty, which,
now became the Orange Free State. A clause was inserted
in the Bloemfontein Convention stating that Great
Britain had no alliance with any native chiefs or
tribes to the north of the Orange, with the exception
of the Griqua chief Adam Kok. Numerous protests were made by
many of the inhabitants of the Orange River Sovereignty against
the abandonment of it by the British government, but the
duke of Newcastle, who was then colonial secretary in Lord
Aberdeen's administration, replied that the decision was in-
evitable (see ORANGE FREE STATE).
The abandonment of the Orange River Sovereignty marked
the close of the eventful period in South African history which
began eighteen years before with the Great Trek. At the begin-
ning of that time there was but one civilized government in
South Africa — Cape Colony; at its close there were five separate
states or provinces, three, the Cape, Natal and British Kaffraria,
owning allegiance to Great Britain, and two forming Boer
republics — the Transvaal and Orange Free State. While vast
additional territories had been occupied by British Results of a
or Boers the unity of administration, which had Policy of
marked the previous stages in the expansion of the ******
white races in South Africa, had been lost. Whether or not a
wiser policy on the part of Great Britain would have secured
the continued allegiance of all the Boers it is impossible to say;
the fact that numbers of Boers remained in Natal under British
rule, and that the majority of the Boers who settled between the
Orange and the Vaal desired to remain British subjects, points to
that conclusion. With justice the Boers complained of the course
actually adopted by the British authorities. They might at the
outset either have let the trek Boers go, and given them their
blessing and liberty, or they might have controlled the trek and
1 Part of the territory thus reannexed was added to Cape Colony
while the region between the Keiskamma and Kei was created a
separate territory under the name-of British Kaffraria.
2 Despatch of Earl Grey, dated October 2 1st, 1851, printed in
Correspondence Relative to the State of the Kaffir Tribes (C. Feb. 1853).
474
SOUTH AFRICA
[HISTORY
made effective their contention that the trekkers were still
British subjects. As has been demonstrated the action taken
was one of vacillation between these two courses, and was
complicated by a native policy which, though well intentioned
and intelligible, needlessly irritated the white colonists (British
and Dutch) and did not prevent bloodshed. In the words of
Mr Paul Botha, a Boer writer, England first blew hot and then
blew cold. But in 1854 a definite standpoint appeared to have
been reached — Great Britain would confine her energies to the
Cape and Natal, leaving the republics to work out their own
destinies undisturbed. It was at this juncture that Sir George
Grey was sent to the Cape as governor. A gifted
s/r George an(j far.seemg man, he had no sooner arrived than he
addressed himself with energy and diligence to the
great problems awaiting him. His first care was to ameliorate
the condition of Cape Colony. He resolved that in dealing
with the natives on the eastern frontier an attempt should
be made to civilize them and thus do away with the
necessity of periodical warfare. Grey's efforts to promote
good government in Kaffraria received unexpected help in
consequence of the extraordinary delusion among the Ama-Xosa
in 1856, which resulted in the death of many thousands of natives
(see CAPE COLONY: History). Land left derelict was occupied
by colonial farmers, and over 200x3 German immigrants were
introduced by Sir George and settled along the frontier (1858-
1859). By this time the colonists of British descent predominated
in the eastern provinces — a circumstance which had important
bearings on the future of the colony.
Sir George Grey found it impossible to maintain a policy of
total abstention from the affairs of the republics. The party in
the Free State which had objected to independence being forced
upon it was still strong and made overtures for union with the
Cape; attempts were also made to unite the Free State and
the Transvaal. In the conflicts between the Free Staters
and the Basutos Grey's intervention was sought. All the evi-
dence before Sir George, and the study he made of the Boer
character, convinced him that the barriers separating the
various white communities were largely artificial. He sought to
remedy the mistake which had been made, and in 1858 he sub-
mitted a scheme of federation between the various South African
states. In a memorable despatch to Sir E. Bulwer Lytton,
then colonial secretary in the second Derby administration,
he wrote (November 19, 1858): —
When the policy was adopted of dividing South Africa into many
states, bound together by no ties of union, it was thought that the
mother country derived no real benefit from the possession of this
part of the African continent, except in holding the seaport of
Simon's Bay. ... It was further thought that the occupation by
Great Britain of the country beyond the Orange River had been a
bubble and a farce, in which the Cape colonists were all interested ;
for that it was to them a great gaming table and put of the reach
of the police. . . . Although these European countries lying beyond
our colonies are treated as separate nations, their inhabitants bear
the same family names as the inhabitants of this colony, and maintain
with them ties of the closest intimacy and relationship. ... I think
there can be no doubt that in any great public, or popular, or
national question and movement the mere fact of calling these
people different nations would not make them so, nor would the
fact of a mere fordable stream running between them sever their
sympathies or prevent them from acting in unison. . . . Experience
has shown that the views which led to the dismemberment of South
Africa were mistaken ones. . . . What therefore I would recommend
would be that . . . measures should be taken which would permit
of the several states and legislatures of this country forming among
themselves a federal union.
When he penned this despatch Grey was well aware of the
distraught condition of the Free State and the agitation for a
change in its government. He held that the federation of that
state with Cape Colony was preferable to its union or federation
with the Transvaal, and it was with considerable satisfaction
that he learned that on the 7th of December of the same year
(1858) the Volksraad of the Free State had passed a resolution
in favour of " a union or alliance with the Cape Colony " and
sought to ascertain the views of the Cape legislature on the sub-
ject . In bringing the matter before the Cape parliament in March
1859 Grey stated that in his opinion it would confer a lasting
Denefit upon Great Britain and upon the inhabitants of South
Africa if it could succeed in devising a form of federal union.
Unfortunately, Grey's views did not meet with the First Coa-
approval of the British government.1 Had they been federation
supported it is highly probable that federation would P">t>°**l.
have been effected. But the golden opportunity was lost. When
Grey attempted to persevere with his scheme he was recalled.
He left Cape Town in August 1859, but on his arrival in
England he found that there had been a change of ministry.
The new colonial secretary, the duke of Newcastle, reinstated
liim, but with instructions not again to raise the federation issue.
The first project for reunion thus came to naught, but from that
time forward it was recognized in South Africa that federation
would afford the best solution of most of the difficulties that beset
the country. The Transvaal was perhaps the greatest sufferer
through Grey's failure, that country continuing for years in a
distracted condition. The Free State, under the guidance of
Sir John Brand, who became president in 1864, attained a
considerable measure of prosperity. Its difficulties with the
Basutos were at last composed, and Moshesh and his people
were in 1868 definitely taken under British protection. The
policy of non-interference proclaimed in 1854 had proved
impracticable, and the annexation of Basutoland was an open
confession of the fact. In 1871 thecountry was annexed to Cape
Colony, but its pacification proved a task of great difficulty.
Up to the year 1870 the Dutch considerably outnumbered the
British inhabitants; indeed, save in Natal, in the eastern province
and in Cape Town, the British inhabitants were com- Economic
paratively few. The industries were almost entirely Develop-
pastoral, and remained chiefly in the hands of the weat'
Dutch. The continual feuds with the Kaffirs, and also the con-
tinual desire to trek into new countries, all tended to keep back
farming, and the country in the years 1867 to 1870 was in a gener-
ally very depressed condition. But in 1870 the era of commer-
cial expansion began. In that year, following smaller finds of
diamonds on the banks of the Vaal and Orange rivers, the diamond
mines of Du Toils Pan and Bultfontein were opened up. In
1869 gold had been found in the Lydenburg and Zoutpansberg
districts in the Transvaal, and diggers had resorted there from
different parts of the world; moreover, in the far interior, in the
territories of Mashonaland, Thomas Baines had reported dis-
coveries of gold. Among the purely pastoral population ostrich-
farming became a new industry and added a considerable asset
to the wealth of Cape Colony. The revenue derived from the
export of ostrich feathers in 1899 was recorded at half a million.
It was, however, the discoveries of diamonds and gold that
chiefly determined the development of the country. A large
population grew up, first at Kimberley, afterwards at Barberton,
and finally at Johannesburg — a population modern in its ideas,
energetic, educated, cosmopolitan, appreciating all the resources
that modern civilization had to offer them, and with a strong
partiality for the life of the town or the camp rather than that
of the farm and the veld. The majority of the Boers remained
very much what they had been in the I7th century. Their
life of continual strife with natives, continual trekking to fresh
pastures, had not been conducive to education or the enlarge-
ment of intellectual outlook. In religion they were Calvinistic,
fanatic, and their old traditions of Dutch East India government,
together with their relation to the natives, developed a spirit of
caste and even tyranny.
It was at this stage of affairs that responsible government
was granted to Cape Colony (1872). From that time down to
the annexation of the Transvaal in 1877, to quote neCarnar-
once more the homely phrase of Paul Botha, Great von Con-
Britain "blew hot " in South Africa. A great change federation
in public sentiment towards the colonies generally Scbeme'
began to make itself felt in Great Britain in the late sixties and
early seventies of the igth century. The constitution of the
Dominion of Canada (1867-1873) was an evidence of that feeling.
»Sir E. Bulwer Lytton wrote (Feb. n, 1859): " H.M. Govern-
ment are not prepared to depart from the settled policy of their
predecessors by advising the resumption of British sovereignty in
any shape over the Orange Free State."
HISTORY]
SOUTH AFRICA
475
With the advent to power of the Disraeli ministry in 1874 the
nascent Imperial spirit grew in strength. Lord Carnarvon (the
4th earl), when under-secretary for the colonies in 1858-1859, had
regarded Grey's federation proposal with disfavour, but later,
as secretary of state, he had introduced the bill for the federation
of the Canadian provinces. He now returned to the Colonial
Office filled with the idea of doing for South Africa what had been
done in British North America.1 Recent events in South Africa
had appeared for a brief period to favour a union of its various
colonies and states. The intimation of the impending grant of
self-government to Cape Colony was regarded by both Boer
republics as bringing nearer the prospect of their union with the
British colonies. But just at that time differences arose between
Great Britain and the republics as to the ownership of the
Kimberley diamond fields which estranged the Boers (see
GRIQUALAND and TRANSVAAL). In the Transvaal Pretorius
was succeeded by T. F. Burgers, a man totally unfitted to
govern a country distracted by factions, harassed by wars with
natives, and with an almost depleted exchequer. Yet in the
condition of the Transvaal Lord Carnarvon found another
argument in favour of federation. Union with the neighbouring
states would, he thought, cure its ills and promote the general
welfare of South Africa. As a preliminary step he accepted
an offer from J. A. Froude to visit South Africa unofficially,
and by travelling through its different states find out what
were the obstacles to confederation and the means by which
such obstacles could be removed. Froude landed at Cape
Town on the 2ist of September 1874, and having visited
Natal, the Free State and Pretoria as well as Cape Colony,
sailed for England on the icth of January 1875. In the three
and a half months he had spent in the country he had reached
the conclusion expressed by the duke of Newcastle nearly twenty
years previously, namely, that all England needed there was
Table Bay — or the Cape peninsula — as a naval and military
station. The South African states, he believed, might be left
in internal affairs to work out their own future. These views
coincided with those of Lord Carnarvon, who looked to federation
as a means of relieving the Imperial government of some of the
heavy responsibilities pressing upon it in South Africa, and he
asked Froude to return to the Cape to take part in a conference
in South Africa on the federation scheme. The offer was
accepted, and Froude reached Cape Town again in June 1875.
Lord Carnarvon's despatch (May 4, 1875), indicating his views,
had preceded the arrival of Froude, and had incensed J. C.
Molteno, the Cape premier, by its disregard of the colony's
self-governing powers. A motion was carried in the Cape
parliament affirming that any movement for federation should
originate in South Africa and not in England. Froude on his
arrival was much chagrined at the attitude taken by the Cape
parliament, and conducted an oratorical campaign throughout
the country in favour of federation. His speeches were lacking
in judgment and tact, and created an unfavourable impression,
The conference was not held, and Froude returned to England in
the autumn.2
Lord Carnarvon was far from abandoning his plan. The
Transvaal was now in a condition bordering on anarchy, and
numbers of its inhabitants were supposed to be looking to Great
Britain for help. Another party in the Transvaal was seeking
alliances with Germany and Portugal, and this danger of foreign
interference was a further cause for action. In August 1876 the
colonial secretary assembled a conference on South African
affairs in London, nominating Froude as representative of
Griqualand West. President Brand represented the Free State.
Another member of the conference was Sir Theophilus Shepstone,
(q.v.) Neither Cape Colony nor the Transvaal was represented,
1 At Sir Henry Barkly's request Lord Carnarvon's predecessor,
Lord Kimberley, had in November 1871 given him (Sir Henry)
authority to summon a meeting of representatives of the states and
colonies to consider the " conditions of union," but the annexation
of the diamond fields had occurred meantime and Sir Henry thought
the occasion inopportune for such a conference.
2 For Froude's views and actions, see especially the blue book
C- 1399 (I876), containing his report to Lord Carnarvon.
and the conference was abortive, President Brand having no
permission from his state to consider federation. That subject
was, in fact, not discussed by the delegates. In view of the
troubles in the Transvaal, and in furtherance of Carnarvon's
federation scheme, Shepstone was, on the sth of October fol-
lowing, given a dormant commission to annex the republic " if it
was desired by the inhabitants and in his judgment necessary."
The secretary of state sought the aid of Sir Bartle Frere as his
chief agent in carrying through confederation, the then governor
of Cape Colony and high commissioner for South Africa, Sir
Henry Barkly, sharing the views of the Cape ministry that the
time was inopportune to force such a step upon South Africa.
In a letter dated the i3th of October, offering Frere the post
Barkly was about to vacate, Lord Carnarvon wrote: —
. . . The war between the Transvaal republic and the natives
has had this further effect, it rapidly ripened all South African
policy. ... It brings us near to the object and end for which I
have now for two years been steadily labouring— the union of the
South African colonies and states. I am indeed now considering
the details of a bill for their confederation, which I desire to introduce
next session, and I propose to press, by all means in my power, my
confederation policy in South Africa.
The time required for the work of confederating and of con-
solidating the confederated states Lord Carnarvon estimated at
not more than two years, and he was sanguine enough /:/„<
to hope that Frere would stay on at the Cape tot Annexation
two or three years "as the first governor-general0"*6
of the South African dominion. " Frere accepted Tr'"sraal-
the offer, but did not leave England until March 1877. Shep-
stone preceded him, and in January 1877 had gone to Pretoria.
His conferences with the leading men in the Transvaal and a
consideration of the dangers which threatened it and the grave
disorders within its borders satisfied Shepstone that he had no
choice except to act upon his commission, and on the izth
of April he issued a proclamation annexing the country to
the British Crown. During the interval between Shepstone's
arrival in the country and the annexation the Volksraad had
rejected the proposals for confederation laid before them in
accordance with Lord Carnarvon's permissive bill, and had made
no real attempt at reform. The annexation was acquiesced
in by a considerable number of the white inhabitants. Shep-
stone was convinced that it was the only step which could save
the country from ruin. The subject is discussed at greater
length under TRANSVAAL. Frere, who had reached Cape Town on
the 3ist of March, learnt on the i6th of April that the annexation
had taken place. He was inclined to regard Shepstone's act
as premature, and he realized that it stirred very deeply Dutch
national feeling throughout South Africa. Though anxious
to promote Carnarvon's policy, Frere found that native affairs
called for immediate attention. The Basuto and Kaffir tribes
were giving trouble, and the 40,000 trained Zulu warriors under
Cetywayo threatened the peace both of Natal and the Trans-
vaal. In the same month (Aug. 1877) in which the British
parliament passed the act, foreshadowed by the secretary of
state, " for the union under one government of such of the
South African colonies and states as may agree thereto, "
another war with the Kaffirs broke out. This conflict lasted until
May 1878, and largely absorbed the energies of Sir Bartle Frere.3
In the meantime a scheme of unification, as opposed to federation,
put forward by the Molteno ministry — a scheme which in its
essence anticipated the form of government established in 1910 —
had met with no support from Frere or the home ministry. In
January 1878 Lord Carnarvon resigned, and the driving force
of the federation scheme thus disappeared. It was not, however,
finally dropped until 1880. In July of that year proposals
for a confederation conference were submitted to the Cape
parliament. At that time Paul Kruger and Piet Joubert,
delegates from the Transvaal Boers, were in Cape Town, and
they used their influence to prevent the acceptance of the
proposals, which were shelved by the ministry accepting " the
3 Serious troubles with the Basutos which began in 1879 reacted
on the situation in the Transvaal and Natal. These troubles were
finally ended in 1884, when the country was given up by the Cape
and became a crown colony (see BASUTOLAND).
476
SOUTH AFRICA
[HISTORY
previous question " (June 29). Thus ended an attempt which
lacked the element essential to success — spontaneity.
Confederation had, for the time being, ceased to be a living
issue some time before its formal shelving by the Cape par-
liament. The Kaffir War of 1878 was followed by war with the
Zulus. Frere, believing that the Zulu power was a standing
menace to the peace of South Africa, and that delay in dealing
with Cetywayo would only increase the danger, sent an ulti-
matum to the chief in November 1878. The invasion of Zulu-
land began in January 1879, and was speedily followed by
the disaster at Isandhlwana and by the defence of Rorke's
Drift and of Eshowe. But at the battle of Ulundi in July
the Zulu power was crushed, and a little later Cetywayo was
taken prisoner (see ZULULAND: History). The removal of
the Zulu danger did not, however, restore harmony between
the British and the Boers in the Transvaal. The mal-
content Boers became a powerful element in the country.
They were largely influenced by an important section of the
Dutch community in western Cape Colony, which carried on
a campaign against annexation, seeing in it a blow to the
ideal they had begun to entertain of a united South Africa
of a Dutch republican type. Sir Garnet Wolseley, at this
period (June i87o-May 1880) high commissioner of South-
East Africa, gave the Transvaal a legislative council, but the
members were all nominated. This could not be regarded as
a redemption of the promise of a liberal constitution, and it
had an injurious, though limited, effect on the Boer community.1
After the receipt in December 1879 of the reports of Mr
Gladstone's speeches during his Midlothian campaign — in which
he denounced annexation as obtained by means dishonourable
to Great Britain — the Boers expected nothing less than the
retrocession of the country.
There was one strong reason against retrocession, concerning
which the Boers — if they gave it thought — would naturally
be silent. To the British mind in general it was apparently
non-existent. It had, however, been seen and its strength
recognized by Sir Garnet Wolseley during his brief governor-
ship of the Transvaal. Wolseley, in a despatch dated the I3th
of November 1879 said: —
The Transvaal is rich in minerals; gold has already been found
in quantities, and there can be little doubt that larger and still more
valuable goldfields will sooner or later be discovered. Any such
discovery would soon bring a large British population here. The
time must eventually arrive when the Boers will be in a small
minority, as the country is very sparsely peopled ; and would it
not therefore be a very near-sighted policy to recede now from the
position we have taken up here, simply because for some years to
come the retention of 2000 or 3000 troops may be necessary to
reconsolidate our power.
As Lord Morley in his Life of Gladstone says, " this pregnant
and far-sighted warning seems to have been little considered
by English statesmen of either party at this critical time or
afterwards, though it proved a vital element in any far-sighted
decision. "
The result of the general election of 1880 was to place Mr
Gladstone in power. The new administration, notwithstanding
Mr Gladstone's public utterances, declared their intention of
retaining British sovereignty in the Transvaal, coupling with
that decision a pious hope for the speedy accomplishment of
confederation so as to allow of free institutions being given to
Natal and the Transvaal.2 The disillusionment occasioned
by this decision caused the Boer delegates then at the Cape to
help to wreck the federation proposals (see supra). But if
unwilling at the time to undo the work of Sir T. Shepstone,
the Liberal cabinet were prepared to get rid of the chief British
representative in South Africa — partly to please the extreme
Radicals among their followers. Accordingly on the 2nd of
August 1880 Frere received a telegraphic despatch from Lord
1 Had Shepstone's promise been redeemed at an early date, it
might well have extinguished the agitation for independence.
2 It is remarkable that the Liberal government, despite this
aspiration, and despite stronger language used by Mr Gladstone,
did nothing to give the Boers any real self-government. Sir Bartle
Frere pressed the new administration, as he had the Conservative
government, on this point without effect.
Majuba.
Kimberley (the new secretary of state for the colonies)
announcing his recall.3 Frere's task was one of extreme
delicacy; he chose to face difficulties rather than Recall of
evade them, and had he been unfettered in his sir Bartle
action might have accomplished much more than Fren-
he was able to do; in its main lines his policy was sound. (See
FRERE, SIR HENRY BARTLE.)
Finding that the Gladstone administration would not give
up the Transvaal voluntarily, the Boers now determined on
rebellion. Hostilities began in December 1880, and eventually
a series of engagements ended in the rout (Feb. 27, 1881)
of a small British force which had occupied Majuba Hill the
previous evening. The killed included the general in command,
Sir George Colley. Meanwhile the resolution of Mr Gladstone
and his colleagues to keep the Transvaal had been shaken by
the Boer declaration of independence. After the first engage-
ments this resolution was further weakened; and when, after
a British reverse at Ingogo (Feb. 8), overtures were made by
Mr Kruger on behalf of the Boers, the cabinet was
strongly inclined to come to terms. The news of
Majuba did not turn it from its purpose. Opinions will always
differ as to the course adopted by the Liberal government.
" We could not, " wrote Mr Gladstone, " because we had failed
on Sunday last, insist on shedding more blood." It is at all
events abundantly clear that had the Boers not resorted to
arms they would not have gained the support of the cabinet.4
Sir Evelyn Wood, who had succeeded Colley as general in
command and governor of Natal, under instructions from home,
concluded a treaty of peace on the 22nd of March. The terms
agreed upon were elaborated in a convention signed at Pretoria
in August following. By this instrument the Transvaal was
granted self-government subject to British suzerainty and the
control of the foreign relations of the state. In 1884 the Glad-
stone administration made further concessions by the London
convention of that year. This last document still, however,
reserved for Great Britain certain rights, including the power
of veto over treaties concluded by the Transvaal with any
power other than the Orange Free State. But the success of
the Transvaal Boers both in war and diplomacy had quickened
the sense of racial unity among the Dutch throughout the
country, and there arose a spirit of antagonism between the
Dutch and the British which affected the whole future of South
Africa.
Before, however, dealing with the relations between the
British and the Boers subsequent to 1881 brief reference may be
made to affairs in which other powers were concerned ; affairs
which were the prelude to the era of expansion associated with
the career of Cecil Rhodes. In 1868 the Europeans in Great
Namaqualand and Damaraland petitioned for annexation to
Great Britain. Eventually (1878) only Walfish Bay Oermany
and a small strip of adjacent territory were annexed. I" South
In 1883 Germany entered the field and during Atrka*
1884-1885, owing to the procrastinating policy of the Cape
and British governments, all the coast between Jhe Orange and
the Portuguese frontier, save Walfish Bay, was placed under
German protection (see AFRICA, §5). The eastern boundary of
German South- West Africa was fixed in 1890, the frontier run-
ning through the Kalahari Desert. Bechuanaland, the region
between the German colony and the Transvaal, was secured
for Great Britain. It was not on the west coast only that
Germany made efforts to secure a footing in South Africa.
In September 1884 an attempt was made to secure St
Lucia Bay, on the coast of Zululand. Here, however, Great
Britain stood firm. St Lucia Bay had been ceded to the
British by the Zulu king Panda in 1843, and this cession has
always been regarded as valid. Eventually Germany agreed to
make no annexation on the east coast of Africa south of Delagoa
Bay. With the proclamation of a British protectorate over
the coast of Pondoland in January 1885 the coast-line from the
3 Frere sailed for England on the isth of September. His
successor, Sir Hercules Robinson, reached the Cape at the end of
January 1 88 1.
4 Morley's Life of Gladstone, bk. viii. ch. 3, " Majuba."
HISTORY]
SOUTH AFRICA
477
mouth of the Orange to Delagoa Bay (save for the small
stretch of Amatonga shore-line) became definitely British.
To Delagoa Bay, or rather to the southern part of the bay,
Great Britain had laid unsuccessful claim. On the northern
bank of the chief estuary of the bay the Portuguese
na<^ from the i6th century onward maintained a
precarious foothold; it was their most southerly
station on the east coast of Africa. In 1823 treaties had been
concluded by the British with tribes inhabiting the southern
shores of the bay. Neither the Portuguese nor the British
claims seemed of much importance until the rise of the South
African republic. Anxious for a seaport, the Transvaal Boers
in turn laid claim to Delagoa Bay. This brought the dispute
between Great Britain and Portugal to a head, the matter
being referred in 1872 to the president of the French republic
for arbitration. In 1875 an award was given by Marshal
MacMahon entirely in favour of the Portuguese (see DELAGOA
BAY). As a port outside British control Delagoa Bay was a
source of strength to the Boers, especially as the railway1 was
under their control. In the war which began in 1899 munitions
of war and recruits for the Boers were freely passed through
Delagoa Bay.
C. The Struggle for Supremacy between British and Dutch. —
Bechuanaland, through which territory runs the route to the
Bechaaaa- far interior — the countries now known as Rhodesia
land — was acquired, despite the strong desire of the
Annexed. Gladstone administration to avoid further annexa-
tions in South Africa. At first the encroachments on Bechuana
territory by Boers from the Transvaal were looked upon
with comparative indifference. The Boers respected neither
tlie frontier laid down by the Pretoria convention nor that
(modified in their favour) drawn in the London convention.
But missionary influence was strong; it was reinforced by the
growing strength of the imperialistic spirit and by the fears
excited by Germany's intrusion on the south-west coast. An
expedition was sent out in October 1884 under Sir Charles
Warren; the Boers, who had set up the " republics " of Goshen
and Stellaland, were obliged to give way, and the country was
annexed (see BECHUANALAND). It was in connexion with this
affair that Cecil Rhodes first came into prominence as a poli-
tician. As a member of the Cape parliament he undertook
a mission, before the arrival of Warren, to the Goshen and
Stellaland Boers, endeavouring, unsuccessfully, to obtain from
them a recognition of British sovereignty. The acquisition
of Bechuanaland by Great Britain was the essential preliminary
to the development of the schemes which Rhodes entertained
for the extension of British rule into Central Africa. In his
endeavours to realize this aim he had to contend with the new
spirit of national consciousness animating the Boers, which
found expression in the formation of the Afrikander Bond.
In its external, as in most of its internal policy, the Trans-
vaal was controlled from 1881 onward by Paul Kruger, who
The AM- was elected president of the state in 1883. Yet
kander Kruger was scarcely the real leader in the nationalist
Bond. movement to which the successful revolt of
1 880-8 1 gave strength. The support given by the Cape Colony
Dutch to the malcontent Transvaal Boers has already been
mentioned. During the 1880-81 revolt many Free State
burghers, despite the moderating influence of President
Brand, joined the Transvaal commandoes. Now a definite
effort was made to build up a united South Africa on anti-
British lines. In the latter part of 1881 a Dutch pastor at the
Paarl, a town in western Cape Colony named Du Toit, in a
paper called De Patriot, suggested the organization of an Afri-
kander Bond; in the same year Carl Borckenhagen, a German
resident in the Free State, advocated such a bond in his paper,
the Bloemfonlein Express. The Bond was formed, its work
being almost confined to Cape Colony. It held its first congress
at Graaf Reinet in 1882. In the " programme of principles "
upon which its constitution was modelled it was set forth that:
1 For the international difficulties connected with the building
of the railway from Delagoa Bay to Pretoria see LouRENjo-M ARQUES.
While in itself acknowledging no single form of government as
the only suitable form, and whilst acknowledging the form of govern-
ment existing at present [the Bond] means that the aim of our
national development must be a united South Africa under its
own flag.
In the following year the Farmers' Protection Association
was amalgamated with the Bond, and the joint organization
fell under the control of J. H. Hofmeyr, the leader of the Dutch
party in Cape Colony. Under Hofmeyr's politic control all
declarations inconsistent with allegiance to the British Crown
were omitted from the Bond's constitution. It remained, how-
ever, a strong nationalist organization, which in practice was
inimical not so much to the British connexion as to the British
section of the population and to the development of the country
on enlightened lines. (For the Afrikander Bond see further
CAPE COLONY: History, and HOFMEYR.)
Not long after the Warren expedition the valuable gold fields
which Sir Garnet Wolseley had foreseen would be discovered
in the Transvaal were actually found. By 1886, the year in
which Johannesburg was founded, the wealth of the Witwaters-
rand fields was demonstrated. The revenue which these dis-
coveries brought into the Transvaal treasury increased the im-
portance of that state. The new industrial situation created had
its effect on all parties in South Africa, and in some measure
drew together the British and Dutch sections outside the
Transvaal. A customs union between Cape Colony and the Free
State was concluded in 1889, to which later on all the other
South African states, save the Transvaal, became parties.
But Kruger remained implacable, bigoted, avaricious, deter-
mined on a policy of isolation. In 1887 he made proposals
for an alliance with the Free State. Brand refused to be
ensnared in Kruger's policy, and the negotiations led to
no agreement. (For details of this episode see ORANGE
FREE STATE: History.) Not many months afterwards (July
1888) the Free State lost by death the wise, moderating guidance
of Sir John Brand. The new president, F. W. Reitz, one of the
founders of the Bond, in 1889 committed the Free State to an
offensive and defensive alliance with the Transvaal. Kruger
thus achieved one of the objects of his policy. Within the
Transvaal a great change was coming over the population.
There flocked to the Rand many thousands of British and other
Europeans, together with a considerable number of Americans.
This influx was looked upon with disfavour by Kruger and his
supporters, and, while the new comers were heavily taxed, steps
were speedily taken to revise the franchise laws Kruger's
so that the immigrants should have little chance of Host/My to
becoming burghers of the republic. This exclusion the Ult-
policy was even applied to immigrants from the *
other South African countries. A system of oppressive trade
monopolies was also introduced. The situation with which
the Boers were called upon to deal was one of great difficulty.
They could not keep back the waves of the new civilization,
they feared being swamped, and they sought vainly to maintain
intact their old organization while reaping the financial benefit
resulting from the working of the gold mines. The wider
outlook which would have sought to win the Uitlanders (as they
were called) to the side of the republic was entirely lacking.
The policy actually followed was not even stationary; it was
retrogressive.
Meanwhile, and partly through distrust of the Kruger policy,
there was growing up in Cape Colony a party of South African
Imperialists, or, as they have been called, Afrik-
ander Imperialists, who came to a large extent under
the influence of Cecil Rhodes. Among these were
W. P. Schreiner (afterwards premier of the colony) and J. W.
Leonard (sometime attorney-general) and, to some extent,
Hofmeyr. From the time of his entrance into politics Rhodes
endeavoured 'to induce the leading men in the country to realize •
that a development of the whole country could and should be
accomplished by South Africans for South Africans. He fully
admitted that the cry which had become so popular since 1881 of
" Africa for the Afrikanders " expressed a reasonable aspiration,
but he constantly pointed out that its fulfilment could most
SOUTH AFRICA
[HISTORY
advantageously be sought, not, as the Kruger party and ex-
tremists of the Bond believed, by working for an independent
South Africa, but by working for the development of South
Africa as a whole on democratic, self-reliant, self-governing
lines, under the shelter of the British flag. Hofmeyr was among
those whom Kruger's attitude drove into a loose alliance with
Rhodes. In 1884, having the power in his hands when the
Scanlen ministry fell, Hofmeyr had put into office a ministry
dependent upon the Bond, and had talked of a possible Dutch
rebellion in Cape Colony if the Boer freebooters in Bechuanaland
were ejected; in 1890 Rhodes became premier with Hofmeyr's
approval and support. Rhodes remained in office as prime min-
ister until January 1896. During these six years the part he
played in the development and public life of South Africa was
greater than that of any other man. He used his period of
power to put into execution his plans for the extension of
British dominion over the country up to the Zambezi.
In 1888 Rhodes had succeeded in inducing Sir Hercules
Robinson, the high commissioner, to allow J. S. Moffat, the
British British resident at Bulawayo, to enter into a treaty
south Africa with Lobengula, the Matabele chief. Under this
Company, treaty Lobengula bound himself not to make a
treaty with any other foreign power, nor to sell or in any
other way dispose of any portion of his country without the
sanction of the high commissioner. This step prevented the
country from falling into the hands of Germany, Portugal or the
Boers. The treaty was followed by the formation of the British
South Africa Company, which obtained a royal charter in 1889,
and by the occupation of Mashonaland in 1890. Difficulties
with the Portuguese followed, but the Salisbury administration
firmly upheld British claims, with the result that the British
sphere of influence was extended not only to the Zambezi but
beyond to the shores of Lake Tanganyika (see AFRICA: § 5). In
1893 a war was fought with the Matabele by Dr L. S. Jameson,
then administrator of Mashonaland, and Bulawayo was occupied.
The name Rhodesia was conferred upon the country in 1894
(see RHODESIA). Living in Cape Town and at the head of the
government, Rhodes used every effort to demonstrate to the
Cape Colonists that the work he was doing in the north must
eventually be to the advantage of Cape Colonists and their
descendants. On the whole, Hofmeyr and his friends were
well pleased at having secured the co-operation of the " big
Englander " Rhodes, or, as he was at one time called by Mr J.
X. Merriman,1 an old parliamentary hand and treasurer-general
during part of Rhodes's premiership, the " young burgher."
In 1891 the Bond Congress was held at Kimberley, and
harmony appeared to reign supreme. During his term of
office Mr Rhodes addressed himself to bringing
1 together all interests, as far as it was practicable
to do so. He showed that his views of the situation
were broad and statesmanlike. His handling of the native ques-
tion in Cape Colony gave general satisfaction. Rhodes was also
a firm believer in the federation of the South African states
and colonies, and he sought to promote this end by the develop-
ment of inter-state and inter-colonial railway systems, and the
establishment of common customs, tariffs, and inter-colonial
free trade under a customs union.2 The persistent opponent
to both these measures was the Transvaal. In matters of
domestic legislation, such as taxation and excise, Rhodes fell
in to a considerable extent with Dutch prejudices.
While in the rest of South Africa there was a growing feeling
of trust between the Dutch and British, accompanied by in-
Plni creasing trade and the development of agriculture,
Transvaal the condition of the Transvaal was becoming serious.
Reform At first the new-comers to the Rand had submitted
Movement. tQ ^ econom{c an(j political burdens to which they
were subjected, but as they grew in numbers and found their
1 Mr Merriman (b. 1841) was ason of N. J. Merriman (1810-1882),
bishop of Graham's Town. He was a member of various Cape
ministries from 1875 onwards.
2 For Rhodes's scheme of commercial federation see further CAPE
COLONY j History.
burdens increased they began to agitate for reforms. In 1892
(the year in which the railway from Cape Town reached the Rand) ,
the National Union was founded at Johannesburg by ex-Cape
Colonists of the Imperial progressive party. For three
years petitions and deputations, public meetings and news-
paper articles, the efforts of the enlightened South African
party at Johannesburg and Pretoria, were all addressed to the
endeavour to induce President Kruger and his government
to give some measure of recognition to the steadily increasing
Uitlander population. Urgent representations were also made
by the British government. President Kruger remained as
impenetrable as adamant. Nine-tenths of the state revenue
was contributed by the Uitlanders, yet they had not even any
municipal power. By a law of 1882 aliens could be naturalized
and enfranchised after a residence in the country of five years,
but between 1890 and 1894 the franchise laws were so altered
as to render it practically impossible for any foreigner to become
a burgher. By the law of 1894 the immigrant must have been at
least 14 years in the country and be 40 years old before in the
most favourable circumstances he could be admitted to the
franchise. The Uitlanders once more petitioned, over 34,000
persons signing a memorial to the Raad for the extension
of the franchise. The appeal was refused (August 1895).
Up to this period a section of the Uitlanders had believed
that Kruger and his following would listen to reason; now
all realized that such an expectation was vain. Rhodes,
who had large interests in the Rand mines, had consistently
endeavoured to conciliate the extreme Boer section in the
Transvaal and win it over (as had happened in the case of the
Cape Dutch) to a policy which should benefit the whole of
South Africa. He was even willing to see the Transvaal obtain
a seaport (at Kosi Bay, in Amatongaland) if in return it would
join the customs union. This opportunity Kruger let slip;
and in May 1895, on the representation of Sir H. Loch, the Rose-
bery administration annexed Amatongaland, thus making the
British and Portuguese frontier conterminous. This action,
finally blocking the Boer road to the sea, taken by a Liberal
government, was clear indication that Great Britain was de-
termined to maintain her supremacy in South Africa.
The situation in August 1895 was thus one of extreme tension.
There had been a change of ministry in Great Britain and
Joseph Chamberlain had become colonial secretary. Sir
Hercules Robinson, who was regarded sympathetically by the
Dutch population of South Africa, had succeeded Loch as high
commissioner. Both high commissioner and the imperial
government were hopeful that Kruger might even yet be induced
to modify his policy; the Uitlanders now entertained no such
hope and they prepared to appeal to arms to obtain redress of
their grievances. The first proposals for an armed rising came
from Rhodes in June, but it was not until November that
the Uitlander leaders came to a definite understanding with
the Cape premier as to the course to be pursued. To lay before
South Africa the true position of affairs in the Transvaal
Charles Leonard issued a manifesto as chairman of the National
Union. It concluded with a list of demands (see TRANSVAAL),
their gist being " the establishment of this republic as a true
republic " with equitable franchise laws, an independent judi-
cature and free trade in South African products.
This manifesto, issued on the 26th of December, called a public
meeting for the night of Monday the 6th of January 1896,
" not with the intention of holding the meeting, but as a blind
to cover the simultaneous rising in Johannesburg and seizing
of the arsenal in Pretoria on the night of Saturday the 4th of
January " (Fitzpatrick, The Transvaal from Within, ch. iii.).
Had the Transvaal government given way, even at the last hour,
the reformers would have been satisfied. Of this, however,
there was no expectation. The arrangement with Rhodes
included the use of an armed force belonging to the
Chartered Company, and led by Dr Jameson. soa
Accordingly some troops were brought from Rhodesia
and stationed near Mafeking, a few miles from the Transvaal
frontier. For some weeks the plot appeared to progress
HISTORY]
SOUTH AFRICA
479
favourably. It might have succeeded but for a vital difference
which arose between the Uitlanders in Johannesburg and
Rhodes. As Charles Leonard's manifesto stated, the reformers
as a body, desired to maintain the autonomy of the Transvaal
and the republican form of government; Rhodes wished the
revolution to be accomplished under the British flag.1 " I was
not going to risk my position," he stated subsequently, " to
change President Kruger for President J. B. Robinson " (the
only prominent Uitlander who stood aloof from the reform
movement). This divergence of views manifested itself on
Christmas Day 1895, and although, under pressure, Rhodes did
not insist on the British flag, it was determined to postpone the
rising. Jameson was so informed, nevertheless he precipitated
the crisis by invading the Transvaal on the evening of December
the 29th. The Transvaal government, meantime, had obtained
some knowledge of what was being projected, and the Raid
ended in a forced surrender (January 2, 1896) to a superior
force of Boers. The Reform Committee, i.e. the Uitlander
leaders, after holding Johannesburg for over a week, also sur-
rendered, and by the gth of January the plot had ended in
complete failure. Mr Chamberlain still desired Kruger to grant
immediate reforms and propounded a scheme of " Home Rule "
for the Rand. The time was inopportune, however, for press-
ing the Transvaal on the subject, and nothing was done.2
The Jameson raid had a profound effect on the history of
South Africa. It greatly embittered racial feeling throughout
the country; it threw the Free State Boers completely on to
the side of the Transvaal; it destroyed the alliance between
the Dutch in Cape Colony and the Imperialists led by Rhodes.
It did more, it divided British opinion, sympathy for the Boer
republics leading in some cases to a disregard for the real griev-
ances of the Uitlanders. It also gave a much desired oppor-
tunity for the intrusion of other powers in the affairs of the
Transvaal;3 and it led Kruger to revive the scheme for a united
South Africa under a Dutch republican flag. This scheme found
many supporters in Cape Colony. A suspicion that the Colonial
Office in London was cognizant of Rhodes's plans further excited
Dutch national feeling, and the Bond once more became actively
anti-British. Rhodes had resigned the premiership of the Cape
a few days after the Raid, and during the greater part of 1896
was in Rhodesia, where he was able to bring to an end, in Sep-
tember, a formidable rebellion of the Matabele which had
broken out six months previously.
A section of the Dutch population was not however disposed to
sacrifice the development of industries and commerce for racial
considerations; while sharing the political aspirations of Kruger
and Steyn the wiser among them wished for such a measure of
reform in the Transvaal as would remove all justification for
outside interference. Nevertheless the cleavage at the Cape
between the Dutch and British grew. Sir Gordon Sprigg, who
had become Premier of Cape Colony in succession to Rhodes,
found his position untenable, and in October 1898 he was suc-
ceeded by a Bond ministry under Mr W. P. Schreiner. The
term " Progressive " was now formally adopted by the British
mercantile communities in the large towns and among the sturdy
farmers of British descent in the eastern province. On returning
to South Africa after the Raid inquiry at Westminster in 1897,
1 In his evidence before the House of Commons Select Committee
which inquired into the Raid, Rhodes did not object to the continued
existence of the republic " for local matters," but desired a federal
South Africa under the British flag; see Blue Book (165) 1897
p. 21; also Sir Lewis Michell's Life of Rhodes, vol. ii. ch. xxx.
2 Jameson and the other raiders were handed over to the British
government for punishment. Four of the Reform leaders were
condemned to death on the 27th of April, but the sentence was
commuted to a fine of £25,000 each. For details of the Reform
movement and Jameson Raid see TRANSVAAL: History.
3 Rhodes informed the House of Commons Select Committee that
the belief that the Boers intended to introduce the influence of
another foreign power in the already complicated system of South
Africa " greatly influenced " him in promoting the revolt. Germany
at the time of the Raid was prepared to intervene, and on the 3rd
of January 1896 the German Emperor, by telegram, congratulated
Kruger that " without appealing to the help of friendly powers "
the Boers had overcome Jameson.
Rhodes had intended to withdraw from Cape politics and devote
his energies for a time entirely to Rhodesia, but the pressure
put upon him by a section of the British colonists was so strong
that he determined to throw in his lot with them.
In the Transvaal, meantime, the situation of the Uitlanders
grew worse. The monopoly and concessions regime continued
unchecked, the naturalization laws were not amended, while
the judicature was rendered subservient to the executive (see
TRANSVAAL: History). The gold mining industry was fostered
only so far as it served to provide revenue for the state, and
large sums from that revenue were used in fortifying Pretoria
and in the purchase of arms and ammunition. This process
of arming the republic had begun before the Raid; after that
event it was carried on with great energy and was directed
against Great Britain. Kruger also sought (unsuccessfully)
to have the London Convention of 1884 annulled, and he entered
into a closer union with the Free State. Great Britain watched
the development of Kruger's plans with misgiving, but except
on points of detail it was felt for some time to be impossible to
bring pressure upon the Transvaal. The retirement of Lord
Rosemead (Sir Hercules Robinson) from the post of high
commissioner was, however, taken advantage of by the British
government to appoint an administrator who should at the
fitting opportunity insist on the redress of the Uitlanders'
grievances.
Sir Alfred Milner (see MILNER, VISCOUNT), the new high
commissioner, took up his duties at the Cape in May 1897. He
realized that one of the most potent factors in the Miiaer
situation was the attitude of the Cape Dutch, and appointed
in March 1898 at Graaff Reinet Milner called upon HighCom-
the Dutch citizens of the Cape, " especially those m'ssloaer-
who had gone so far in the expression of their sympathy
for the Transvaal as to expose themselves to charges of dis-
loyalty to their own flag " to use all their influence, not in
confirming the Transvaal in unjustified suspicions, not in en-
couraging its government in obstinate resistance to all reform,
but in inducing it gradually to assimilate its institutions, and
the temper and spirit of its administration, to those of the free
communities of South Africa, such as Cape Colony or the Orange
Free State. Moreover the Graaff Reinet speech showed that
Milner was aware of the dangerous policy being followed by the
Bond. The Dutch party at the Cape was shown to be incurring
a heavy responsibility, especially as its leaders were aware, in
the words of Mr J. X. Merriman, of " the inherent rottenness "
of the Kruger regime. That party soon afterwards had it in its
power to bring pressure officially upon President Kruger, for it
was a few months after the delivery of the speech that Mr
Schreiner became premier. To some extent this was done —
but in a manner which led the Transvaal Boers to count in any
event on the support of the Cape Dutchmen. In the Transvaal,
as has been said, affairs were steadily going from bad to worse.
An Industrial Commission, appointed (under pressure) by Pre-
sident Kruger in 1897 to inquire into a number of grievances
affecting the gold industry, had reported in favour of reforms.
The recommendations of the commission, if adopted, would
have done something towards relieving the tension, but Presi-
dent Kruger and his executive refused to be guided seconrf
by them. Once more the Uitlanders determined Transvaal
to make a further attempt to obtain redress by
constitutional means, and the second organized
movement for reform began by the formation in 1897 of a
branch of the South African League.
At the end of 1898 the feelings of the Uitlanders were wrought
up to fever pitch. The police service, which was violent where
it should have been reasonable, and blind where it should have
been vigilant, had long been a source of great irritation. On
the i8th of December a Boer policeman, in pursuit of an Eng-
lishman named Edgar, whom he wished to arrest for an alleged
assault on another man, entered his house and shot him dead.
The deepest indignation was aroused by this incident, and was
still further increased by the trivial way in which the case was
dealt with by the court. The killing of Edgar was followed by
Movemeni-
480
SOUTH AFRICA
[HISTORY
the breaking up of a public meeting at Johannesburg, and in
March the Uitlanders handed to the high commissioner a
petition for intervention with 21,684 signatures attached to
it (see TRANSVAAL: History).
On the 4th of May 1899 Sir Alfred Milner felt it his duty to
The Case rePort at some length by cable to Mr Chamberlain.
lor British The concluding passages of this message, which
lotervea- summed up the whole South African situation in a
tioa' masterly manner, were as follows: —
The case for intervention is overwhelming. The only attempted
answer is that things will right themselves if left alone. But, in
fact, the policy of leaving things alone has been tried for years, and
it has led to their going from bad to worse. It is not true that this
is owing to the Raid. They were going from bad to worse before
the Raid. We were on the verge of war before the Raid, and the
Transvaal was on the verge of revolution. The effect of the Raid
has been to give the policy of leaving things alone a new lease of life,
and with the old consequences.
The spectacle of thousands of British subjects kept permanently
in the position of helots, constantly chafing under undoubted griev-
ances, and calling vainly to Her Majesty's government for redress,
does steadily undermine the influence and reputation of Great
Britain, and the respect for British government within the queen's
dominions. A certain section of the press, not in the Transvaal
only, preaches openly and constantly the doctrine of a republic
embracing all South Africa, and supports it by menacing references
to the armaments of the Transvaal, its alliance with the Orange
Free State, and the active sympathy which, in case of war, it would
receive from a section of Her Majesty's subjects. I regret to say
that this doctrine, supported as it is by a ceaseless stream of malig-
nant lies about the intentions of the British government, is produc-
ing a great effect upon a large number of our Dutch fellow-colonists.
Language is frequently used which seems to imply that the Dutch
have some superior right even in this colony to their fellow-citizens
of British birth. Thousands of men peaceably disposed and, if
left alone, perfectly satisfied with their position as British subjects,
are being drawn into disaffection, and there is a corresponding
exasperation on the side of the British.
I can see nothing which will put a stop to this mischievous
propaganda but some striking proof of the intention of Her Majesty's
government not to be ousted from its position in South Africa.
And the best proofs alike of its power and its justice would be to
obtain for the Uitlanders in the Transvaal a fair share in the govern-
ment of the country which owes everything to their exertions. It
could be made perfectly clear that our action was not directed
against the existence of the republic. We should only be demand-
ing the re-establishment of rights which now exist in the Orange
Free State, and which existed in the Transvaal itself at the time of,
and long after, the withdrawal of British sovereignty. It would
be no selfish demand, as other Uitlanders besides those of British
birth would benefit by it. It is asking for nothing from others
which we do not give ourselves. And it would certainly go to the
root of the political unrest in South Africa; and though temporarily
it might aggravate, it would ultimately extinguish the race feud,
which is the great bane of the country.
In view of the critical situation Milner and Kruger met in
conference at Bloemfontein on the 3ist of May. Milner
practically confined his demands to a five years' franchise,
which he hoped would enable the Uitlanders to work out their
own salvation. On his side Kruger put forward inadmissible
demands (see TRANSVAAL), and the conference broke up on
the 5th of June without any result. A new franchise law,
on a seven years' naturalization basis, was passed in July by the
Transvaal volksraad, but the law was hedged about with many
restrictions. Messrs Hofmeyr and Herholdt, the one the
leader of the Bond and the other the Cape minister of agri-
culture, visited Pretoria to reason with Kruger. They found
him deaf to all arguments. The fact is that the Boers had
made up their minds to a trial of strength with Great Britain
for supremacy in South Africa. At the time which from a
military standpoint they thought most opportune (October 9)
an ultimatum was handed to the British agent at Pretoria, and
a war was at once precipitated, which was not to close for over
two and a half years. (A.P.H.; F.R.C.)
D. From the Annexation of the Dutch Republics to the Union. —
An account of the Anglo-Boer War of 1890-1902 will be found
under TRANSVAAL. After the surrender of Cronje at Paarde-
berg (February 1900) to Lord Roberts, Presidents Kruger and
Steyn offered to make peace, but on terms which should include
the acknowledgment of " the incontestable independence of
both republics as sovereign international states "; the Boers
also sought, unavailingly, the intervention of foreign powers.
The British government had decided that the con- Last EHorta
tinued existence of either republic was inadmissible; to Preserve
on the 28th of May 1900 the annexation of the**eBoer
Free State was formally proclaimed, and on the RepuWfcs<
ist of September the Transvaal was also annexed to the
British Empire. A few days later ex-President Kruger
sailed from Lourenco Marques for Europe. The refusal
of the German Emperor to receive him extinguished alike
his political influence and all hopes that the Boers might
still have entertained of help from foreign governments. At
that time all the chief towns in both of the late republics were
held by the British, and the Boers still in the field were reduced
to guerilla warfare. Most of the men on their side who had
come to the front in the war, such as General Louis Botha in
the Transvaal, had been opponents of the Kruger regime; they
now decided to continue the struggle, largely because they
trusted that the Cape Dutch, and their sympathizers in Great
Britain, would be able to obtain for them a re-grant of inde-
pendence. The Cape Dutch all through 1901 and the first part
of 1902 conducted a strong agitation in favour of the former
republics, the border line between constitutional action and
treason being in many cases scarcely distinguishable. The Cape
Afrikanders also formed what was styled a " conciliation com-
mittee " to help the party in Great Britain which still supported
the Boer side. Messrs Merriman and Sauer went to England
as delegates to plead the cause, but it was noted that Hofmeyr
refused to join, and the appeal to the British public was a com-
plete failure. The war had indeed stirred every part of the
empire in support of the policy of the government, and from
Australia, Canada, New Zealand and India, contingents were
sent to the front. No terms could be granted which did not
include the explicit recognition of British sovereignty. At last
the Boer commandos gave up the struggle and on the 3ist of
May 1902 their leaders signed articles of peace at Pretoria.
Henceforth, save for the German and Portuguese possessions,
on the west and east coasts respectively, there was but one
flag and one allegiance throughout South Africa. With the
elimination of the republics one great obstacle to federation was
removed; while the establishment of self-government in the new
colonies, promised (after a probationary period of " representa-
tive institutions") in No. VII. of the peace articles, would give
them an opportunity to enter into federal union on equal terms.
The task of founding new and better administrative machinery
in the new colonies was left to Lord Milner, and was begun even
before the war had ended. The two new colonies The Work of
were for the time governed on crown colony lines. Recoastruc-
But the co-operation of the people was at once sought tjon-
by nominating non-official members to the leglislative councils,
and seats on the Transvaal council were offered to Louis Botha,
C. J. Smuts and J. H. Delarey. The Boer leaders declined the
offer — they preferred the position of untrammelled critics, and
the opportunity to work to regain power on constitutional lines
when the grant of self-government should be made. Milner
had thus an additional difficulty in his reconstruction work.
The first necessity was to restart the gold mining industry on
the Rand. The Uitlanders, who had fled from Johannesburg
just before the war opened, began to return in May 1901, and
by the time the war ended most of the refugees were back on the
Rand and mining was resumed. A tax of 10% on their annual
net produce, imposed in 1902, was the main available source of
revenue. The repatriation of some 200,000 Boers followed,
and the departments of justice, education and agriculture were
remodelled.1 In all that he did Milner had endeavoured to
promote closer union. Thus the railway and constabulary of
both the ex-republics were under a single management. In this
1 To aid him Milner had the services of some of the best men
in the British service, e.g. Sir Godfrey Lagden, Sir Arthur Lawley,
Sir J. Rose-Innes, Sir Richard Solomon. He also secured the help
of a considerable number of young Oxford men who became known
as " the Milner Kindergarten."
HISTORY]
SOUTH AFRICA
481
work the high commissioner had the support of Mr Chamberlain,
\vho paid a visit to South Africa which extended from Christmas
1902 to the end of February 1903. He sanctioned the calling
of an inter-colonial conference, which led to a customs convention
including all the British possessions in South Africa, and to
united action regarding railway rates and native questions.1
The great expenditure incurred during the war had led to
much deception as to the growth of trade, while the large sums
spent on repatriation and other temporary work main-