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The Project Gutenberg Encyclopedia Volume 1 of 28 by Project Gutenberg - Pages 1975-2470

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The Project Gutenberg Encyclopedia Volume 1 of 28

Pop­ula­tion.—The pop­ula­tion in 1867 at the time of the ces­sion from Rus­sia is es­ti­mat­ed at 30,000, of which two-​thirds were Es­ki­mo and oth­er In­di­ans. Pop­ula­tion re­turned in 1880, 33,426; in 1890, 32,052; in 1900, 63,592, of whom ap­prox­imate­ly 48% were whites, 46% na­tives and 6% Japanese and Chi­nese; (1910 cen­sus) 64,356. The Asi­at­ics are em­ployed in the salmon can­ner­ies. The na­tives of Alas­ka fall un­der four eth­no­log­ic races: the Es­ki­mo or In­nu­it—of these the Aleuts are an off­shoot; the Haidas or Kaigani, found prin­ci­pal­ly on Prince of Wales Is­land and there­abouts; the Thlinkits, rather wide­ly dis­tribut­ed in the “Pan­han­dle”; and the Tin­nehs or Atha­pas­cans, the stock race of the great in­te­ri­or coun­try. In 1800 the pure-​blood­ed na­tives num­bered 23,531, of whom 6000 were Haidas, Thlinkits or oth­er na­tives of the coastal re­gion, 1000 Aleuts, 3400 Atha­pas­cans and 13,100 Es­ki­mo. The na­tives have adopt­ed many cus­toms of white civ­iliza­tion, and on the Aleu­tians, and in coastal Alas­ka, and in scat­tered re­gions in the in­te­ri­or ac­knowl­edge Chris­tian­ity un­der the forms of the Or­tho­dox Greek or oth­er church­es. The rapid ex­haus­tion in late years of the cari­bou, seals and oth­er an­imals, once the food or stockin-​trade of the Aleuts and oth­er races, threat­ens more and more the swift de­ple­tion of the na­tives. They have al­so felt the fa­tal in­flu­ence of the liquor traf­fic. From 1893 to 1895 the Unit­ed States ex­pend­ed $55,000 to sup­port the na­tives of the Fur Seal Is­lands. This pol­icy threat­ens to be­come a con­tin­ued ne­ces­si­ty through­out much of Alas­ka. There is a small gov­ern­ment In­di­an reser­va­tion on Afog­nak Is­land, near Ko­di­ak. The white pop­ula­tion is ex­treme­ly mo­bile, and few towns have an as­sured or def­inite fu­ture. The pros­per­ity of the min­ing towns of the in­te­ri­or is de­pen­dent on the fick­le for­tune of the gold-​fields, for which they are the dis­tribut­ing points. Sit­ka, Juneau (the cap­ital) and Dou­glas, both cen­tres of a rich min­ing dis­trict, Sk­ag­way, ship­ping point for freight for the Klondike coun­try (see these ti­tles), and St Michael, the ocean port for freight­ing up the Yukon, are the on­ly towns ap­par­ent­ly as­sured of a pros­per­ous fu­ture. Wrangell (for­mer­ly Fort St Diony­sius, Fort Stikine and Fort Wrangell), found­ed in 1833, is a di­lap­idat­ed and tor­pid lit­tle vil­lage, of some in­ter­est in Alaskan his­to­ry, and of tem­po­rary im­por­tance from 1874 to 1877 as the gate­way to the Cas­siar mines in British Columbia. Its in­hab­itants are chiefly Thlinkit In­di­ans.

Gov­ern­ment.—Alas­ka, by an act of Congress ap­proved the 7th of May 1906, re­ceived the pow­er to elect a del­egate to Congress. Be­fore this act and the elec­tions of Au­gust 1906 Alas­ka was a gov­ern­men­tal dis­trict of the Unit­ed States with­out a del­egate in Congress. Its ad­min­is­tra­tion rests in the hands of the var­ious ex­ec­utive de­part­ments, and is part­ly ex­er­cised by a gov­er­nor and oth­er res­ident of­fi­cials ap­point­ed by the pres­ident. It is a mil­itary dis­trict, a cus­toms dis­trict (since 1868), is or­ga­nized in­to a land dis­trict, and con­sti­tutes three ju­di­cial di­vi­sions. In 1867-1877 the gov­ern­ment was in the hands of the de­part­ment of war, al­though the cus­toms were from the be­gin­ning col­lect­ed by the de­part­ment of the trea­sury, with which the ef­fec­tive con­trol rest­ed from 1877 un­til the pas­sage of the so-​called Or­gan­ic Act of 17th May 1884. This act ex­tend­ed over Alas­ka the laws of the state of Ore­gon so far as they should be ap­pli­ca­ble, cre­at­ed the ju­di­cial dis­trict and a land dis­trict, put in force the min­ing laws of the Unit­ed States, and in gen­er­al gave the ad­min­is­tra­tive sys­tem the or­ga­ni­za­tion it re­tained up to the re­forms of 1899-1900. The his­to­ry of gov­ern­ment and po­lit­ical ag­ita­tion has cen­tred since then in the de­mand for gen­er­al land leg­is­la­tion and for an ad­equate civ­il and crim­inal law, in protests against the en­force­ment of a liquor pro­hi­bi­tion law, and in ag­ita­tion for an ef­fi­cient­ly cen­tral­ized ad­min­is­tra­tion. As the gen­er­al land laws of the Unit­ed States were not ex­tend­ed to Alas­ka in 1884, there was no means, gen­er­al­ly speak­ing, of gain­ing ti­tle to any land oth­er than a min­ing claim, and so far as any method did ex­ist its cost was ab­so­lute­ly pro­hibitive. Af­ter par­tial and in­ad­equate leg­is­la­tion in 1891 and 1898, the reg­ular sys­tem of land sur­veys was made ap­pli­ca­ble to Alas­ka in 1899, and a gen­er­ous home­stead law was pro­vid­ed in 1903. An ad­equate code of civ­il and crim­inal law and pro­vi­sions for civ­il gov­ern­ment un­der im­proved con­di­tions were pro­vid­ed by Congress in 1899 and 1900. The ag­ita­tion over pro­hi­bi­tion dates from 1868; the act of that year or­ga­niz­ing a cus­toms dis­trict for­bade the im­por­ta­tion and sale of firearms, am­mu­ni­tion and dis­tilled spir­its; the Or­gan­ic Act of 1884 ex­tend­ed this pro­hi­bi­tion to all in­tox­icat­ing liquors. The coast of Alas­ka of­fers ex­cep­tion­al fa­cil­ities for smug­gling, and liquor bas al­ways been very plen­ti­ful; ju­ries have steadi­ly re­fused to con­vict of­fend­ers, and trea­sury of­fi­cials have reg­ular­ly col­lect­ed rev­enue from sa­loons ex­ist­ing in de­fi­ance of law. The pro­hi­bi­tion law is still up­on the statute-​books. The chief weak­ness­es in the colo­nial ad­min­is­tra­tion of the ter­ri­to­ry, par­tic­ular­ly pri­or to 1900—but on­ly to a slight­ly less ex­tent since—have been de­cen­tral­iza­tion and a lax civ­il ser­vice. The con­comi­tants of these have been ir­re­spon­si­bil­ity and in­ef­fi­cien­cy. The gov­er­nor has rep­re­sent­ed the pres­ident with­out pos­sess­ing much pow­er; the de­part­ment of war has had illde­fined du­ties; the de­part­ment of jus­tice has, in the­ory, had charge of the gen­er­al law; the de­part­ment of the in­te­ri­or has ad­min­is­tered the land law; the agents of the bu­reau of ed­uca­tion have su­per­in­tend­ed the stock­ing of Alas­ka with rein­deer; the Unit­ed States Fish Com­mis­sion has in­ves­ti­gat­ed the con­di­tion of ma­rine life with­out hav­ing pow­ers to pro­tect it. The trea­sury de­part­ment has chart­ed the coasts, sought to en­force the pro­hi­bi­tion law, con­trolled and pro­tect­ed the fur seals and fish­eries, and in­ci­den­tal­ly col­lect­ed the cus­toms. Since the cre­ation of the de­part­ment of com­merce and labour (1903), it has tak­en over from oth­er de­part­ments some of these scat­tered func­tions. All in all, the gov­ern­ment has proved it­self with­out pow­er to pro­tect the most valu­able in­dus­tries of the dis­trict, and for many years there has been talk of a reg­ular ter­ri­to­ri­al gov­ern­ment. The pauci­ty of per­ma­nent res­idents and the pover­ty of the lo­cal trea­sury seem to make such a so­lu­tion an im­pos­si­bleone.

His­to­ry.—The re­gion now known as Alas­ka was first ex­plored by the Rus­sian of­fi­cers Cap­tain Vi­tus Bering and Chirikov in I 741 They vis­it­ed parts of the coast be­tween Dixon En­trance and Cape St Elias, and re­turned along the line of the Aleu­tians. Their ex­pe­di­tion was fol­lowed by many pri­vate ves­sels manned by traders and trap­pers. Ko­di­ak was dis­cov­ered in 1763 and a set­tle­ment ef­fect­ed in 1784. Span­ish ex­pe­di­tions in 1774 and 1775 vis­it­ed the south-​east­ern coast and laid a foun­da­tion for sub­se­quent ter­ri­to­ri­al claims, one in­ci­dent of which were the Noot­ka Sound seizures of 1789. Cap­tain James Cook in 1778 made sur­veys from which the first ap­prox­imate­ly ac­cu­rate chart of the coast was pub­lished; but it was re­served for Van­cou­ver in 1793-1794 to make the first charts in the mod­ern sense of the in­tri­cate south-​east­ern coast, which on­ly in re­cent years have been su­per­seded by new survel’s. Ow­ing to ex­cess­es com­mit­ted by pri­vate traders and com­pa­nies, who robbed, mas­sa­cred and hideous­ly abused the na­tive In­di­ans, the trade and reg­ula­tion of the Rus­sian pos­ses­sions were in 1799 con­fid­ed to a se­mi-​of­fi­cial cor­po­ra­tion called the Rus­sian-​Amer­ican Com­pa­ny for a term of twen­ty years, af­ter­wards twice re­newed for sim­ilar pe­ri­ods. A monopoly of the Amer­ican trade had pre­vi­ous­ly been grant­ed in 1788 to an­oth­er pri­vate com­pa­ny, the Shohkof. Alexan­der Bara­nov (1747–1819); chief res­ident di­rec­tor of the Amer­ican com­pa­nies (1790-1819), one of the ear­ly ad­min­is­tra­tors of the new com­pa­ny, be­came fa­mous through the suc­cess­es he achieved as gov­er­nor. He found­ed Sit­ka (q.v.) in 1804 af­ter the mas­sacre by the na­tives of the in­hab­itants of an ead­ier set­tle­ment (1799) at an ad­ja­cent point. The head­quar­ters of the com­pa­ny were at Ko­di­ak un­til 1805, and there­after at Sit­ka. In 1821 Rus­sia at­tempt­ed by ukase to ex­clude nav­iga­tors from Bering Sea and the Pa­cif­ic coast of her pos­ses­sions, which led to im­me­di­ate protest from the Unit­ed States and Great Britain. This led to a treaty with the Unit­ed States in 1824 and one with Great Britain in 1825, by which the ex­ces­sive de­mands of Rus­sia were re­lin­quished and the bound­aries of the Rus­sian pos­ses­sions were per­ma­nent­ly fixed. The last char­ter of the Rus­sian-​Amer­ican Com­pa­ny ex­pired on the 31st of De­cem­ber 1861, and Prince Mak­su­tov, an im­pe­ri­al gov­er­nor, was ap­point­ed to ad­min­is­ter the af­fairs of the ter­ri­to­ry. In 1864 au­thor­ity was grant­ed to an Amer­ican com­pa­ny to make ex­plo­rations for a pro­posed Rus­so-​Amer­ican com­pa­ny’s tele­graph line over­land from the Amur riv­er in Siberia to Bering Strait, and through Alas­ka to British Columbia. Work was be­gun on this scheme in 1865 and con­tin­ued for near­ly three years, when the suc­cess of the At­lantic ca­ble ren­dered the con­struc­tion of the lme un­nec­es­sary and it was giv­en up, but not un­til im­por­tant ex­plo­rations had been made. In 1854 a Cal­ifor­ni­an com­pa­ny be­gan im­port­ing ice from Alas­ka. Very soon there­after the first Of­fi­cial over­tures by the Unit­ed States for the pur­chase of Rus­sian Amer­ica were made dur­ing the pres­iden­cy of James Buchanan. In 1867, by a treaty signed on the 30th of March, the pur­chase was con­sum­mat­ed for the sum of $7,200,o00, and on the 18th of Oc­to­ber 1867 the for­mal trans­fer of the ter­ri­to­ry was made at Sit­ka.

Since its ac­qui­si­tion by the Unit­ed States the his­to­ry of Alas­ka has been main­ly that of the evo­lu­tion of its ad­min­is­tra­tive sys­tem de­scribed above, and the vary­ing for­tunes of its fish­eries and seal­ing in­dus­tries. Since the gold dis­cov­er­ies a won­der­ful ad­vance has been made in the ex­plo­ration of the coun­try. A mil­itary reser­va­tion has been cre­at­ed with Fort Michael as a cen­tre. The two events of great­est gen­er­al in­ter­est have been the Fur Seal Ar­bi­tra­tion of 1893 (see BERING SEA AR­BI­TRA­TION), and the . Alas­ka-​Cana­di­an bound­ary dis­pute, set­tled by an in­ter­na­tion­al tri­bunal of British and Amer­ican ju­rists in Lon­don in 1903. The bound­ary dis­pute in­volved the in­ter­pre­ta­tion of the words, quot­ed above, in the treaties of 1825 and 1867 defin­ing the bound­ary of the Rus­sian (lat­er Amer­ican) pos­ses­sions, and al­so the de­ter­min­ing of the lo­ca­tion of Port­land Canal, and the ques­tion whether the coastal gir­dle should cross or pass around the heads of the fjords of the coast. The tri­bunal was an ad-)udi­ca­tion board and not an ac­tu­al court of ar­bi­tra­tion, since its func­tion was not to de­cide the bound­ary but to set­tle the mean­ing of the An­glo-​Rus­sian treaty, which pro­vid­ed for an ide­al (and not a phys­ical) bound­ary. This bound­ary did not fit in with ge­ograph­ical facts; hence the ad­ju­di­ca­tion was based up­on the mo­tive of the treaty and not up­on the lit­er­al in­ter­pre­ta­tion of such elas­tic terms as “ocean,’, “shore” and “coast-​line.” The award of the tri­bunal made in Oc­to­ber 1903 was ar­rived at by the favourable vote of the three com­mis­sion­ers of the Unit­ed States and of Lord Alver­stone, whose ac­tion was bit­ter­ly re­sent­ed by the two Cana­di­an com­mis­sion­ers; it sus­tained in the main the claims of the Unit­ed States.

AU­THOR­ITIES.—W. H. Dall and M. Bak­er, “List of Charts, Maps, and Pub­li­ca­tions re­lat­ing to Alas­ka”, in Unit­ed States Pa­cif­ic Coast Pi­lot, 1879; Month­ly Cat­alogue Unit­ed States Pub­lic Doc­uments, No. 37 (1898), and Bul­letin 227, Unit­ed States Ge­olog­ical Surve8′ (1904), for of­fi­cial doc­uments; H. H. Ban­croft, Alas­ka 1710–f8&5) pp. 595-609; and var­ious oth­er bib­li­ogra­phies in ti­tles men­tioned be­low, es­pe­cial­ly in Brooke’s The Ge­og­ra­phy and Ge­ol­ogy of Alas­ka.

Gen­er­al.–Unit­ed States Month­ly Sum­ma­ry of Com­merce Fi­nance, Ju­ly 1903, “Com­mer­cial Alas­ka, 1867-1903. Area, Pop­ula tion, Pro­duc­tions, Com­merce . . .”; W. H. Dall, Alas­ka and its Re­sources (Boston, 1870); C. Sum­ner, Speech on “Ces­sion of Rus­sian-​Amer­ica to the Unit­ed States,” in Works, vol. xi. (Boston, 1875): C. H. Mer­ri­am, ed­itor, Hal­rri­man Alas­ka Ex­pe­di­tion (New York, 1901-1904, 3 vols.).

Phys­iog­ra­phy and Cli­mate.—Unit­ed States De­part­ment of War, Ex­plo­rations in Alas­ka, 1864-1900 (Wash­ing­ton, 1901); Unit­ed States Ge­olog­ical Sur­vey, An­nu­al Re­ports since 1897—“The Ge­og­ra­phy and Ge­ol­ogy of Alas­ka: A Sum­ma­ry of Ex­ist­ing Knowl­edge,” by Al­fred H. Brooks (Wash­ing­ton, 1905; Pro­fes­sion­al Pa­per, No. 45), with var­ious maps (see Na­tion­al Ge­ograph­ic Mag., May 1904, lor a map em­body­ing all knowl­edge then known); “Al­ti­tudes in Alas­ka” (Bul­letin 100, by H. Gan­nett); “Ge­ograph­ic Dic­tio­nary of Alak­sa” (Bul­letin 299, Wash­ing­ton, 1906), by M. Bak­er; Unit­ed States Post Of­fice, “Map of Alas­ka” (1901); Unit­ed States Coast and Geode­tic Sur­vey, Bul­letins and maps; Bul­letin Amer­ican Ge­ogra­phieal So­ci­ety, Febru­ary 1902, F. S. Schrad­er, “Work of the Unit­ed States Ge­olog­ical Sur­vey in Alas­ka”; Jour­nal of Franklin In­sti­tute, Oc­to­ber and Novem­ber 1904, W. R. Aber­crom­bie—“The Cop­per Riv­er Coun­try of Alas­ka”; I. C. Rus­sell, Glaciers of North Amer­ica. . . . Ivan Petroff, Re­port

In­dus­tries.–Unit­ed States Cen­sus, 1880, Ivan Petroff, Re­port on the Pop­ula­tion, In­dus­tries and Re­sources of Alas­ka; Unit­ed States Cen­sus, 1890 and 1900; on rein­deer, Fif­teenth An­nu­at Re­port on In­tro­duc­tion of Do­mes­tic Rein­deer in­to Alas­ka, by Shel­don Jack­son (Wash­ing­ton, 1906); on agri­cul­ture, Unit­ed States De­part­ment of Agri­cul­ture, Ex­per­iment Sta­tions, Bul­letin Nos. 48, 62, 82 . . . (1898-1900); Seal and Salmon Fish­eries and Gen­er­al In­dus­tries of Alas­ka, 1868-1805 (Wash­ing­ton, 1898) (Unit­ed States Trea­sury, al­so 55 Congress, 1 Ses­sion, House Doc­ument 92, vols. vi.-x.), 4 vols.; D. S. Jor­dan et al., The Fur Seals and Fur Seal Is­lanids (or Pe­port of ln.: al­so many spe­cial re­ports on the seals pub­lished by the voln.: al­so many spe­cial re­ports on the seals pub­lished by the Unit­ed States Trea­sury: for Re­port of British seal ex­perts, Cre­at Britain, For­eign Of­fice Cor­re­spon­dence, Unit­ed States, No. 3 (1897), No. 1 (1898).

His­to­ry and Gov­ern­ment.–H. H. Ban­croft, Alas­ka, 1730-1885 (San Fran­cis­co, 1886); W. H. Dall, “Alas­ka as it was and is, 1863-1893,” in Bul­letin of the Philadel­phia So­ci­ety of Wash­ing­ton, xi­ii.; Gov­er­nor of Alas­ka, An­nu­al Re­port to the Sec­re­tary of the In­te­ri­or; Fur Seal Ar­bi­tra­tion, Pro­ceed­ings (Wash­ing­ton, 1895, 46 vols.l: al­so Great Britain, For­eign Of­fice Cor­re­spon­dence, Unit­ed States, Nos. 6, 7, 8 (1893), No. 1 (1895); Alaskan Bound­ary Tri­bunal, Cas­es, Counter-​cas­es, Ar­gu­ments, At­lases of Unit­ed States and Great Britain (Wash­ing­ton, 1903 seq.); and a rich pe­ri­od­ical lit­er­ature.

Pop­ula­tion, Na­tives.–Unit­ed States Na­tion­al Mu­se­um, Ann. Re­port (1896); W. Hough, “Lamp of the Es­ki­mo” (long, and of gen­er­al in­ter­est): F. Knapp and R. L. Childe, The Thlin­kets of South-​East­ern Alas­ka (Chica­go, 1896).

1 At Ko­di­ak, the month­ly means range from 28 deg. to 33 deg. with a to­tal range from -10 deg. to 82 deg. F., as against -5 deg. to 87 deg. F. at Sit­ka; the av­er­age tem­per­ature is 40.6 deg. F., rain­fall 59 in.

2 At St Michael the mean an­nu­al tem­per­ature is about 26 deg. , the month­ly means run from about -2 deg. to 54 deg. , and the ex­treme record­ed tem­per­atures from about -55 deg. to 77 deg. F.; at Port Clarence the an­nu­al mean is 22 deg. lmonth­ly means -7 deg. to 51 deg. F.; ex­treme range of tem­per­ature, -38 deg. to 77 deg. F.; at Point Bar­row the an­nu­al mean is 7.70 F’., month­ly means -18.6 deg. to 38.1 deg. F., ex­treme range of tem­per­ature -55 deg. to 65 deg. F.

3 The mean an­nu­al tem­per­ature on the Yukon at the in­ter­na­tion­al line is about 21 deg. F., the month­ly means run from -17 deg. to 60 deg. F., the range of ex­treme tem­per­atures from -80 deg. to 90 deg. F.

4 At Fort Yukon five years’ records showed mean sea­son­al tem­per­atures of 14 deg. , 60 deg. , 17 deg. , and -23.8 deg. F. for spring, sum­mer, au­tumn and win­ter re­spec­tive­ly: at Holy Cross Mis­sion 20 deg. , 59 deg. , 36 deg. and 0.95 deg. , at Nu­la­to 29 deg. , 60 deg. , 36 deg. and -14 deg. . `

5 The Har­ri­man ex­pe­di­tion col­lect­ed in two months 1000 species of in­sects, of which 344 species (and 6 gen­era) were new to sci­ence.

6 The trees here grow as large as 10 in. in di­am­eter and 40 or 50 ft. high; the branch­es do nor spread, even where there is room, so ihat the tallest tree has a top on­ly four or five feet broad; the roots, which can­not pen­etrate the shad­ed and frozen soil, spread over the ice or shal­low­ly in­to the tun­dra car­pet­ing, and of­ten on­ly by their mat­ted nei­work pre­vent the fall of the trees.

7 280 species of moss­es prop­er, of which 46 were new to sci­ence, and 16 va­ri­eties of peat moss (Spho­gnum) were list­ed by the Har­ri­man ex­pe­di­tion; and 74 species or va­ri­eties of ferns.

8 The val­ue of the to­tal ar­od­uct of Alas­ka’s fish can­ner­ies was in 1905 $7,735,782, or 29.3% of the to­tal for the Unit­ed States; in 1900 it was 17.4% of the coun­try’s to­tal.

9 Seat­tle, Sit­ka and Valdez are con­nect­ed by ca­ble; tele­graoh lines run from the Pan­han­dle in­land to the Yukon and down its val­ley to Fort St Michael.

ALAS­SIO, a town of Lig­uria, Italy, on the N.W. coast of the Gulf of Genoa, in the province of Genoa, 57 m. S.W. of the town of the same name by rail. Pop. (1901) 5630. It is main­ly no­tice­able as a health re­sort in win­ter and a bathing-​place in sum­mer, and has many ho­tels. The an­chor­age is safe, and the bay full of fish; the har­bour has a cer­tain amount of trade. The old town con­tains one or two in­ter­est­ing church­es, and com­mands a fine view.

ALAS­TOR, in Greek mythol­ogy, the spir­it of re­venge, which prompts the mem­bers of a fam­ily to com­mit fresh crimes to ob­tain sat­is­fac­tion. These crimes ne­ces­si­tate fur­ther acts of vengeance, and the curse is thus trans­mit­ted from gen­er­ation to gen­er­ation. The word is al­so used for a man’s evil ge­nius, which drives him to sin with­out any provo­ca­tion; a man so driv­en is some­times called Alas­tor. The ep­ithet is ap­plied to Zeus and the Erinyes as the deities of re­venge and pun­ish­ment.

ALA-​TAU (“Var­ie­gat­ed Moun­tains”), the name of six moun­tain ranges in Asi­at­ic Rus­sia. Three of these are in the gov­ern­ment of Semiryechen­sk in Cen­tral Asia, all be­long­ing to the Tian­shan sys­tem:—(1) the Terskei Ala-​tau, south of and par­al­lel to the lake of Is­syk-​kul; (2) the Kunghei Ala-​tau, and (3) the Trans-​Ili Ala-​tau, both N. of and par­al­lel to the same lake; and (4) the Dzun­gar­ian Ala-​tau, ly­ing N. of the Ili de­pres­sion. The first three link to­geth­er the Tian-​shan and the Alexan­der Range. Their mean el­eva­tion is 6000–7000 ft.; their cul­mi­nat­ing point, Tal­gar, on a trans­verse ridge be­tween (2) and (3), reach­es 15,000 ft.; the lim­its of per­pet­ual snow run at 11,000-11,700 ft. The Dzun­gar­ian Ala-​tau reach a max­imum al­ti­tude of 11,000 ft. and have a mean al­ti­tude of 6250 ft. From the mid­dle of the Alexan­der Range an­oth­er range (5) called Ala-​tau, or Ta­las­tau, strikes west by south. The name Ala-​tau al­so en­ters in­to the des­ig­na­tion of (6), a range be­tween the up­per Yeni­sei and the up­per Ob, in the gov­ern­ment of Tom­sk, name­ly, the Kuznet­sk Ala-​tau, form­ing an out­li­er of the Al­tai Moun­tains, and reach­ing 6000-7000 ft. in al­ti­tude.

ALAU­NA, ALAUNUS, the Celtic names of two rivers, &c., in Ro­man Britain. Hence the mod­ern Al­lan Wa­ter, riv­er Alyn, &c.

ALA­VA, DON MIGUEL RI­CAR­DO DE (1770-1841), Span­ish gen­er­al and states­man, was born at Vit­to­ria in 1770. He served first in the navy, and had risen to be cap­tain of a frigate when he ex­changed in­torthe army, re­ceiv­ing cor­re­spond­ing rank. He was present as a ma­rine at the bat­tle of Trafal­gar on board the flag­ship of his un­cle Ad­mi­ral Ala­va. In pol­itics he fol­lowed a very de­vi­ous course. At the as­sem­bly of Bay­onne in 1808 he was one of the most promi­nent of those who ac­cept­ed the new con­sti­tu­tion from Joseph Bona­parte as king of Spain. Af­ter the na­tion­al ris­ing against French ag­gres­sion, and the de­feat of Gen­er­al Dupont at Bailen in 1808, Ala­va joined the na­tion­al in­de­pen­dent par­ty, who were fight­ing in al­liance with the En­glish. The Span­ish Cortes ap­point­ed him com­mis­sary at the En­glish head­quar­ters, and the duke of Welling­ton, who re­gard­ed him with great favour, made him one of his aides-​de­camp. Be­fore the close of the cam­paign he had risen to the rank of brigadier-​gen­er­al. On the restora­tion of Fer­di­nand, Ala­va was cast in­to prison, but the in­flu­ence of his un­cle Ethenard, the in­quisi­tor, and of Welling­ton se­cured his speedy re­lease. He soon con­trived to gain the favour of the king, who ap­point­ed him in 1815 am­bas­sador to the Hague. It was there­fore his re­mark­able for­rune to be present at the bat­tle of Wa­ter­loo with Welling­ton’s staff. He is sup­posed to have been the on­ly man who was present at both Wa­ter­loo and Trafal­gar. Four years lat­er he was re­called ow­ing, it is said, to the marked kind­ness he had shown to his ban­ished fel­low-​coun­try­men. On the break­ing out of the rev­olu­tion of 1820 he was cho­sen by the province of Ala­va to rep­re­sent it in the Cortes, where he be­came con­spic­uous in the par­ty of the Ex­al­la­dos, and in 1822 was made pres­ident. In the lat­ter year he fought with the mili­tia un­der Fran­cis­co Balles­teros and Pablo Muril­lo to main­tain the au­thor­ity of the Cortes against the rebels. When the French in­vest­ed Cadiz, Ala­va was com­mis­sioned by the Cortes to treat with the duc d’An­gouleme, and the ne­go­ti­ations re­sult­ed in the restora­tion of Fer­di­nand, who pledged him­self to a lib­er­al pol­icy. No soon­er had he re­gained pow­er, how­ev­er, than he ceased to hold him­self bound by his promis­es, and Ala­va found it nec­es­sary to re­tire first to Gibral­tar and then to Eng­land. On the death of Fer­di­nand he re­turned to Spain, and es­pous­ing the cause of Maria Christi­na against Don Car­los was ap­point­ed am­bas­sador to Lon­don in 1834 and to Paris in 1835. Af­ter the in­sur­rec­tion of La Gran­ja he re­fused to sign the con­sti­tu­tion of 1812, declar­ing him­self tired of tak­ing new oaths, and was con­se­quent­ly obliged to re­tire to France, where he died at Bareges in 1843.

Fre­quent and hon­ourable men­tion of Ala­va is made in Napi­er’s His­to­ry of the Penin­su­lar War, and his name is of­ten met borh in lives of the duke of Welling­ton and in his cor­re­spon­dence.

ALA­VA, one of the Basque Provinces of north­ern Spain; bound­ed on the N. by Bis­cay and Guipuz­coa, E. by Navarre, S. by Logrono, and W. by Bur­gos. Pop. (1900) 96,385; area 1175 sq. m. The countship of Trevi­no (190 sq. m.) in the cen­tre of Ala­va be­longs to the province of Bur­gos. The sur­face of Ala­va is very moun­tain­ous, es­pe­cial­ly on the north, where a part of the Pyre­nees forms its nat­ural bound­ary. It is sep­arat­ed from Logrono by the riv­er Ebro, and its oth­er rivers are the Zador­ra and the Ayu­da. The cli­mate is mild in sum­mer, fit­ful in au­tumn and spring, and very cold in win­ter, as even the plains are high and shut in on three sides by moun­tains snow-​clad dur­ing sev­er­al months. The soil in the val­leys is fer­tile, yield­ing wheat, bar­ley, maize, flax, hemp and fruits. Oil and a poor kind of wine called cha­coli are al­so pro­duced. Many of the moun­tains are clothed with forests of oak, chest­nuts, beech­es and oth­er trees, and con­tain iron, cop­per, lead and mar­ble. Salt is al­so found in large quan­ti­ties; but min­ing and quar­ry­ing are not prac­tised on a large scale; on­ly lead, lig­nite and as­phalt be­ing worked. There are min­er­al wa­ters in many places. Oth­er lo­cal in­dus­tries of some im­por­tance in­clude smelt­ing, and man­ufac­tures of beds, fur­ni­ture, rail­way car­riages, match­es, pa­per, sweets and woollen and cot­ton goods. Bread-​stuffs. colo­nial prod­ucts and ma­chin­ery are large­ly im­port­ed. Few provinces in Spain are in­hab­it­ed by so la­bo­ri­ous, ac­tive and well-​to-​do a pop­ula­tion. The pri­ma­ry schools are nu­mer­ous­ly at­tend­ed, and there are very good nor­mal schools for teach­ers of both sex­es, and a mod­el agri­cul­tur­al farm: The pub­lic roads and oth­er works of the province are ex­cel­lent, and, like those of the rest of the Basque provinces, en­tire­ly kept up by lo­cal ini­tia­tive and tax­es. Rail­ways from Madrid to the French fron­tier, and from Saragos­sa to Bil­bao, cross the province. The cap­ital is Vi­to­ria (pop. 1900, 30,701), which is the on­ly town with more than 3500 in­hab­itants.

For a fuller ac­count of the his­to­ry, peo­ple and cus­toms of Ala­va, see BASQUES and BASQUE PROVINCE, with the works there cit­ed. A very elab­orate bib­li­ograo­hy is giv­en in the Cat­al­ogo de las obras ref­er­entes a las provin­cias de Ala­va y Navar­ra, by A. A. Salazar (Madrid, 1887.) The fol­low­ing books by i. I. Lan­dazuri y Ro­marate con­tain much ma­te­ri­al for a provin­cial his­to­ry:–His­to­ria ec­cle­si­as­ti­ca, &c. (Pam­plona, 1797); His­to­ria civ­il, &c. (Vi­todes, 1798); Com­pen­dios his­tori­cos de la ciu­dad y vil­las de . . . Ala­va, &c. (Pam­plona, 1798); Su­ple­men­to a’ los cu­atro li­bros de la his­to­ria de . . . Ala­va (Vi­to­ria, 1799); and Los varones il­lus­tres Alavens­es Vi­to­ria, 1798). See al­so M. Risco in vol. 33 of His­pania Sagia­da, by H. Flo­rez, &c. (Madrid, 1754-1879).

ALB (Lat. al­ba, from al­bus, white), a litur­gi­cal vest­ment of the Catholic Church. It is a sack-​like tu­nic of white linen, with nar­row sleeves and a hole for the head to pass through, and when gath­ered up round the waist by the gir­dle (cin­gu­lum) just clears the ground. Albs were orig­inal­ly quite plain, but about the 10th cen­tu­ry the cus­tom arose of or­na­ment­ing the bor­ders and the cuffs of the sleeves with strips of em­broi­dery, and this be­came com­mon in the 12th cen­tu­ry. These at first en­cir­cled the whole bor­der; but soon it be­came cus­tom­ary to sub­sti­tute for them square patch­es of em­broi­dery or pre­cious fab­rics. These “parures” “ap­par­els” or “or­phreys” (Lat. parun’ae, gram­mala, au­rifeisia, &c.), were usu­al­ly four in num­ber, one be­ing sewn on the back and an­oth­er on the front of the vest­ment just above the low­er hem, and one on each cuff. When, as oc­ca­sion­al­ly hap­pened, a fifth was added, this was placed on the breast just be­low the neck open­ing. These “ap­par­elled albs” (al­bae paratae) con­tin­ued in gen­er­al use in the West­ern Church till the 16th cen­tu­ry, when a ten­den­cy to dis­pense with the parures be­gan, Rome it­self set­ting the ex­am­ple.

The growth of the lace in­dus­try in the 17th cen­tu­ry has­tened the pro­cess by lead­ing to the sub­sti­tu­tion of broad bands of lace as dec­ora­tion; oc­ca­sion­al­ly, as in a mag­nif­icent spec­imen pre­served at South Kens­ing­ton, near­ly half the vest­ment is thus com­posed of lace. At the present time, so far as the Ro­man Catholic Church is con­cerned, ap­par­elled albs are on­ly in reg­ular use at Mi­lan (Am­brosian Rite), and, par­tial­ly, in cer­tain church­es in Spain. The de­cree of the Con­gre­ga­tion of Rites (May 18, 1819) says noth­ing about ap­par­els, but on­ly lays down that the alb must be of white linen or hemp cloth. There is no def­inite rule as to the ma­te­ri­al or char­ac­ter of the or­na­men­ta­tion, and at­tempts have been made, es­pe­cial­ly in Eng­land, to re­vive the use of the ap­par­elled alb.

In the Ro­man Church the alb is now reck­oned as one of the vest­ments prop­er to the sac­ri­fice of the Mass. It is worn by bish­ops, priests, dea­cons and sub­dea­cons un­der the oth­er eu­charis­tic vest­ments, ei­ther at Mass or at func­tions con­nect­ed with it. It is some­times al­so worn by cler­ics in mi­nor or­ders, whose prop­er vest­ment is, how­ev­er, the sur­plice–it­self a mod­ifi­ca­tion of the alb (see SUR­PLICE.) The alb is sup­posed to be sym­bol­ical of pu­ri­ty, and the priest, when putting it on, prays: “Make me white and pu­ri­fy my heart, O Lord,” &c. In the mid­dle ages the parures, which orig­inal­ly had no mys­tic in­ten­tion what­ev­er, were tak­en to sym­bol­ize the wounds of Christ; whence prob­ably is de­rived the cus­tom sur­viv­ing at the cathe­dral of Tole­do, of the singers of the Pas­sion on Good Fri­day be­ing vest­ed in ap­par­elled albs.

In Eng­land at the Ref­or­ma­tion the alb went out of use with the oth­er “Mass vest­ments,” and re­mained out of use in the Church of Eng­land un­til the rit­ual re­vival of the 19th cen­tu­ry. It is now worn in a con­sid­er­able num­ber of church­es not on­ly by the cler­gy but by acolytes and servers at the Com­mu­nion. Where the rit­ual, as in most cas­es, is a re­vival of pre-​Ref­or­ma­tion us­es and not mod­elled on that of mod­ern Rome, these albs are fre­quent­ly ap­par­elled. For the ques­tion of its le­gal­ity see VEST­MENTS.

Both the alb and its name are de­rived ul­ti­mate­ly from the tu­ni­ca al­ba, the white tu­nic, which formed part of the or­di­nary dress of Ro­man cit­izens un­der the Em­pire. As such it was worn both in and out of church, the few no­tices re­main­ing which sug­gest a spe­cial tu­nic for min­is­ters at the Eu­charist mere­ly im­ply­ing that it was not fit­ting to use for so sa­cred a func­tion a gar­ment soiled by ev­ery­day wear. The date of its def­inite adop­tion as a litur­gi­cal vest­ment is un­cer­tain; at Rome— where un­til the 13th cen­tu­ry it was known as the lin­ea or camisia (cf. the mod­ern Ital­ian cam­ice for alb)—it seems to have been thus used as ear­ly as the 5th cen­tu­ry. But as late as the 9th and 10th cen­turies the al­ba is still an ev­ery­day as well as a litur­gi­cal gar­ment, and we find bish­ops and syn­ods for­bid­ding priests to sing mass in the al­ba worn by them in or­di­nary life (see Braun, p. 62). Through­out the mid­dle ages, more­over, the word al­ba was some­what loose­ly used. In the me­dieval in­ven­to­ries are some­times found al­bae, de­scribed as red, blue or black; which has led to the be­lief that albs were some­times not on­ly made of stuffs oth­er than linen, but were coloured. It is clear, how­ev­er, from the de­scrip­tions of these vest­ments that in some cas­es they were ac­tu­al­ly tu­ni­cles, the con­fu­sion of terms aris­ing from the sim­ilar­ity of shape (see DAL­MAT­IC); in oth­er cas­es the colour ap­plied to the parures, not to the albs as a whole. Silk albs ap­pear in the in­ven­to­ries, but on­ly very ex­cep­tion­al­ly.

The equiv­alent of the alb in the an­cient Church­es of the East is the stichar­ion (stichar­ion) of the Or­tho­dox Church (Ar­me­ni­an shapik, Syr­ian Kuti­na, Cop­tic sto­ichar­ion or tu­ni­ah.) It is worn gir­dled by bish­ops and priests in all rites, by sub­dea­cons in the Greek and Cop­tic rites. By dea­cons and lec­tors it is worn un­gir­dled in all the rites. The colour of the vest­ment is usu­al­ly white for bish­ops and priests (this is the rule in the Cop­tic Church); for the oth­er or­ders there is no rule, and all colours, ex­cept black, may be used. Its ma­te­ri­al may be linen, wool, cot­ton or silk; but silk on­ly is the rule for dea­cons. In the Ar­me­ni­an and Cop­tic rites the vest­ment is of­ten elab­orate­ly em­broi­dered; in the oth­er rites the on­ly or­na­ment is a cross high in the mid­dle of the back, save in the case of bish­ops of the Or­tho­dox Church, whose sticharia are or­na­ment­ed with two ver­ti­cal red stripes (pota­moi, “rivers”). In the East as in the West the vest­ment is spe­cial­ly as­so­ci­at­ed with the rit­ual of the Eu­charist.

The whole sub­ject is ex­haus­tive­ly treat­ed by Fa­ther Joseph Braun in Die litur­gis­che Gewan­dung (Freiburg im Breis­gau, 1907). See al­so Bib­li­og­ra­phy to the ar­ti­cle VEST­MENTS.

AL­BA, a town and epis­co­pal see of Pied­mont, Italy, on the riv­er Tanaro, in the province of Cu­neo. From the town of the same name it is 33 m. N.E. di­rect; it is 42 m. S.S.E. of Turin by rail. Pop. (1901) 13,900. It con­tains a fine cathe­dral, with a Goth­ic fa­cade, re­con­struct­ed in 1486, and is an im­por­tant com­mer­cial cen­tre. It oc­cu­pies the site of the an­cient Al­ba Pom­peia, prob­ably found­ed by Pom­peius Stra­bo (con­sul 89 B.C.) when he con­struct­ed the road from Aquae Statiel­lae (Ac­qui) to Au­gus­ta Tau­ri­no­rum (Turin). Prob­ably this was the road tak­en by Dec­imus Bru­tus when he suc­ceed­ed, af­ter the rais­ing of the siege of AIuti­na in 43 B.C., in oc­cu­py­ing Pol­len­tia just be­fore Mark Antony’s cav­al­ry came in sight. Al­ba was the birth­place of the em­per­or Per­ti­nax. It be­came an epis­co­pal see de­pen­dent on Mi­lan in the 4th cen­tu­ry. A small mu­se­um of lo­cal an­tiq­ui­ties was es­tab­lished in 1897.

See F. Eu­se­bio in At­ti del Con­gres­so In­ter­nazionale di Scien­ze Storiche (Rome, 1904), vol. v. p. 485.

AL­BACETE, an in­land province of south-​east­ern Spain, formed in 1833 out of the north­ern half of Mur­cia, and bound­ed on the N. by Cuen­ca, E. by Va­len­cia and Al­icante, S. by Mur­cia, and W. by Grana­da and Jaen. Pop. (1900) 237,877; area 5737 sq. m. The north­ern part of Al­bacete be­longs to the high plains of New Castile, the south­ern is gen­er­al­ly moun­tain­ous, tra­versed by low ranges or iso­lat­ed groups of hills, which cul­mi­nate in the Sier­ra de Al­caraz on the bor­ders of Grana­da, where sev­er­al sum­mits reach 5000 ft. Be­sides many small­er streams, two large rivers wa­ter the province, the Se­gu­ra in the south-​west, and the Jficar in the north-​east; both ris­ing be­yond the bor­ders of Al­bacete, and ul­ti­mate­ly flow­ing in­to the Mediter­ranean. The fer­tile glens of the Al­caraz dis­trict are rich­ly wood­ed, and of­ten, from their mul­ti­tude of fruit trees, re­sem­ble the huer­tas or gar­dens of Al­icante; but broad tracts of land are des­ti­tute of trees, and suit­able on­ly for pas­ture. These bar­ren re­gions are thin­ly peo­pled; and for the whole of Al­bacete the den­si­ty of pop­ula­tion (41.3 per sq. m. in 1900) is low­er than in any oth­er Span­ish province, ex­cept So­ria.

The cli­mate is gen­er­al­ly mild and healthy, al­though, among the high­er moun­tains, the snow lies for sev­er­al months. Wheat and oth­er ce­re­als are cul­ti­vat­ed, with fruits of many kinds, olives, and vines which yield a wine of fair qual­ity; while saf­fron is large­ly pro­duced, and some at­ten­tion is giv­en to the­keep­ing of bees and silk­worms. Stock-​farm­ing, for which the wide plains af­ford ex­cel­lent op­por­tu­ni­ties, em­ploys many of the peas­antry; the bulls of Al­bacete are in de­mand for bull­fight­ing, and the hors­es for mount­ing the Span­ish cav­al­ry. There is al­so a good breed of mules. Sul­phurous and oth­er min­er­al springs, both hot and cold, ex­ist in sev­er­al dis­tricts, and de­posits of sil­ver, iron, cop­per, sul­phur, coal and oth­er min­er­als have been dis­cov­ered; but the ex­ploita­tion of these is re­tard­ed by lack of com­mu­ni­ca­tions, and, apart from build­ing ma­te­ri­als, sul­phur and salt, the ac­tu­al out­put is in­signif­icant. Man­ufac­tures are al­most con­fined to the spin­ning of hemp, and the mak­ing of coarse cloth, porce­lain, earth­en­ware and cut­lery. Brandy dis­til­leries are nu­mer­ous, and there is some trade in wood; but no lo­cal in­dus­try can ri­val agri­cul­ture and stock-​breed­ing, which fur­nish the bulk of the ex­ports. Al­bacete (pop. 1900, 21,512), the cap­ital, and the oth­er im­por­tant towns of Al­mansa (11,180) and Hellin (12,558), are de­scribed un­der sep­arate head­ings. Al­caraz, which gives its name to the moun­tain range al­ready men­tioned, is a pic­turesque old town with the ru­ins of a Moor­ish cas­tle, and a fine Ro­man aque­duct; pop. (1900) 4501. Caudete (5913), Chin­chilla, or Chin­chilla de Monte-​Aragon (6680), La Ro­da (7066), To­bar­ra (7787), Vil­lar­rob­le­do (10,125) and Yeste (6591) are im­por­tant mar­kets for the sale of agri­cul­tur­al pro­duce. The rail­way from Madrid to Al­bacete pass­es south-​west­ward to Chin­chilla, where it bi­fur­cates, one line go­ing to Mur­cia, and the oth­er to Al­icante. A large part of the province is on­ly ac­ces­si­ble by road, and even the main high­ways main­tained by the state are ill kept. Ed­uca­tion is very back­ward even in the towns; many of the in­hab­itants car­ry arms; and crimes of vi­olence are not in­fre­quent.

AL­BACETE, the cap­ital of the above province, on the Madri­dAl­icante rail­way, and at the con­flu­ence of the riv­er Bal­azote with the canal of Maria Christi­na, which flows in­to the riv­er Jficar, 16 m. N. Pop. (1900) 21,512. Al­bacete com­pris­es the pic­turesque old up­per town and the new or low­er town, with iaw­Courts, schools, bar­racks, hos­pi­tals, a coun­ci­hhall, a bull-​ring and oth­er mod­ern build­ings, most­ly erect­ed af­ter the city be­came a provin­cial cap­ital in 1833. It is sur­round­ed by a fer­tile plain, and has con­sid­er­able trade in saf­fron and agri­cul­tur­al pro­duce. A great mar­ket, chiefly for the sale of cat­tle, is held an­nu­al­ly in Septem­ber, and ex­tends over sev­er­al days. The man­ufac­ture of match­es is aid­ed by the ex­is­tence of sul­phur work­ings in the vicin­ity; and Al­bacete for­mer­ly had an ex­ten­sive trade in cut­lery, from which it was named the Sheffield of Spain. De­spite the im­por­ta­tion of cut­lery from Eng­land and Ger­many, Al­bacete is still fa­mous for its dag­gers, which arc held in high re­pute by Spaniards. They are formidable weapons, of coarse man­ufac­ture, but with rich­ly or­na­ment­ed han­dles; and they fre­quent­ly bear prover­bial in­scrip­tions suit­able to their mur­der­ous ap­pear­ance.

AL­BA FU­CENS (mod. Albe), an an­cient Ital­ian town oc­cu­py­ing a lofty sit­ua­tion (3347 ft.) at the foot of the Monte Veli­no, 4 m. N. Of Avez­zano. It was orig­inal­ly a town of the Ae­qui, though on the fron­tier of the Mar­si, but was oc­cu­pied by a

loied by a

Ro­man colony (304 B.C.I ow­ing to its strate­gic im­por­tance. It lay on a hill just to the north of the Via Va­le­ria, which was prob­ably pro­longed be­yond Tibur at this very pe­ri­od. In the Sec­ond Punic war Al­ba at first re­mained faith­ful, but af­ter­wards re­fused to send con­tin­gents and was pun­ished. Af­ter this it be­came a reg­ular place of de­ten­tion for im­por­tant state pris­on­ers, such as Syphax of Nu­midia, Perseus of Mace­do­nia, Bi­tu­itus, king of the Arverni. It was at­tacked by the al­lies in the So­cial War, but re­mained faith­ful to Rome; and its strong po­si­tion ren­dered it a place of some im­por­tance in the civ­il wars. Its pros­per­ity, in the im­pe­ri­al pe­ri­od, can on­ly be in­ferred from the num­ber of in­scrip­tions found there. It is chiefly re­mark­able for its fine­ly pre­served for­ti­fi­ca­tions. The ex­ter­nal walls, which have a cir­cuit of about 2 m., are con­struct­ed of polyg­onal ma­son­ry; the blocks are care­ful­ly joint­ed, and the faces smoothed. With our present knowl­edge of such con­struc­tions, their date can­not cer­tain­ly be de­ter­mined. They are not pre­served to any very con­sid­er­able height; but the ar­range­ment of the gates is clear­ly trace­able; as a rule they come at the end of a long, straight stretch of wall, and are placed so as to leave the right side of any at­tack­ing force ex­posed. On the north there is, for a length of about 150 yds. a triple line of de­fences of lat­er date (pos­si­bly added by the Ro­man colonists), inas­much as both the city wall prop­er and the dou­ble wall thrown out in front of it are part­ly con­struct­ed of con­crete, and faced with fin­er polyg­onal ma­son­ry (in which hor­izon­tal joints seem to be pur­pose­ly avoid­ed). A mile to the north of the city a huge mound with a ditch on each side of it (but at a con­sid­er­able dis­tance from it) may be traced for a cou­ple of miles. With­in the walls there are hard­ly any build­ings of a lat­er date. Ex­ca­va­tions have on­ly been made ca­su­al­ly, though re­mains of build­ings and of roads can be traced, and al­so an ex­ten­sive sys­tem of un­der­ground pas­sages per­haps con­nect­ed with the de­fences of the place. The hill at the west­ern ex­trem­ity was oc­cu­pied by a tem­ple of the Tus­can or­der, in­to which was built the church of S. Pietro; this con­tains an­cient columns, and some re­mark­ably fine spec­imens of Cos­matesque work. It is the on­ly monas­tic church in the Abruzzi in which the nave is sep­arat­ed from the aisles by an­cient columns. The col­le­giate church of S. Nico­la in the vil­lage con­tains a re­mark­able stau­rothe­ca of the 11th (?) cen­tu­ry, and a wood­en trip­tych in im­ita­tion of the Byzan­tine style with enam­els of the 13th cen­tu­ry.

A very good de­scrip­tion of the site, with plans, is giv­en by C. Promis, L’An­ti­chi­ta di Al­ba Fu­cense (Rome, 1836). (T. As.)

AL­BA LON­GA, an an­cient city of Latium, sit­uat­ed on the west­ern edge of the Al­banus La­cus, about 12 m. S.E. of Rome. It was, ac­cord­ing to tra­di­tion, found­ed by As­ca­nius, and was the old­est of all Latin cities—the moth­er in­deed of Rome, by which, how­ev­er, it was de­stroyed, it is said un­der Tul­lus Hos­til­ius. By this act Rome suc­ceed­ed to the hege­mo­ny of the Latin league. It has by many to­pog­ra­phers been placed be­tween the Al­banus Mons and the Al­banus La­cus, ac­cord­ing to the in­di­ca­tion giv­en by. Diony­sius (i. 66), at the monastery of Palaz­zo­lo; but the po­si­tion is quite un­suit­able for an an­cient city, and does not at all an­swer to Livy’s de­scrip­tion, ab situ por­rec­tae in dor­so ur­bis Al­ba lon­ga ap­pel­la­ta; and it is much more prob­able that its site is to be sought on the west­ern side of the lake, where the mod­ern Cas­tel Gan­dol­fo stands, im­me­di­ate­ly to the north of which the most im­por­tant part of the ar­cha­ic necrop­olis was sit­uat­ed. Con­fir­ma­tion of this may be found in Ci­cero’s de­scrip­tion (Pro Milone, 85) of the de­struc­tion of the shrines and sa­cred groves of Al­ba by the con­struc­tion of Clodius’s vil­la, in the lo­cal ap­pli­ca­tion of the ad­jec­tive Al­banus, and in the po­si­tion of Cas­tel Gan­dol­fo it­self, which ex­act­ly suits Livy’s de­scrip­tion. No traces of the an­cient city, ex­cept of its necrop­olis, the tombs of which are over­laid with a stra­tum of peperi­no 3 ft. thick, are pre­served. The view that the mod­ern Al­bano oc­cu­pies the site of Al­ba Lon­ga was com­mon­ly held in the 15th and 16th cen­turies, but was dis­proved by P. Clu­ver (1624). But it is cer­tain that no city took the place of Al­ba Lon­ga un­til com­par­ative­ly late times. The name Al­banum, from about 150 B.C. till the time of Con­stan­tine, meant a vil­la in the Al­ban ter­ri­to­ry. The em­per­ors formed a sin­rle es­tate out of a con­sid­er­able part of this dis­trict, in­clud­ing ap­par­ent­ly the whole of the lake, and Domi­tian was es­pe­cial­ly fond of re­sid­ing here. The im­pe­ri­al vil­la oc­cu­pied the site of the present Vil­la Bar­beri­ni at Cas­tel Gan­dol­fo, and con­sid­er­able re­mains of it still ex­ist. To the south was a camp for the im­pe­ri­al body­guard, with baths, an am­phithe­atre, a large wa­ter reser­voir, &c. The first le­gion known to have been quar­tered there is the II. Parl­hi­ca, found­ed by Sep­ti­mius Severus; but it was prob­ably con­struct­ed ear­li­er. In some of the tombs of these le­gionar­ies coins of Max­en­tius have been found, while the Liber Pon­tif­ealis records that Con­stan­tine gave to the church of Al­bano “om­nia sch­eneca de­ser­ta vel do­mos in­tra urbem Al­ba­nensem,’, which has gen­er­al­ly been tak­en to re­fer to the aban­doned camp. It was at this pe­ri­od, then, that the civ­itas Al­ba­nen­sis arose. The lapis Al­banus is a green grey vol­canic stone with black and white grains in it (hence the mod­ern name. De­peri­no). much used for build­ing ma­te­ri­al.

See T. Ash­by in Jour­nal of­philol­ogy, xxvii., 1901, 37. (T. As.) AL­BAN, SAINT, usu­al­ly styled the pro­tomar­tyr of Britain, is said to have been born at Veru­lami­um (the mod­ern St Al­bans in Hert­ford­shire) to­wards the close of the 3rd cen­tu­ry, and to have served for sev­en years in Rome in the army of the em­per­or Dio­cle­tian. On his re­turn to Britain he set­tled at his na­tive place and was put to death as a Chris­tian dur­ing the per­se­cu­tion of Dio­cle­tian (c. 286–303). Ac­cord­ing to tra­di­tion, when peace was re­stored, great hon­ours were paid to his tomb. A church was built on the spot, c. 793, by King Of­fa of Mer­cia. A monastery was sub­se­quent­ly added, and around it the present town of St Al­bans grad­ual­ly grew up. Pope Adri­an IV., who was born in the neigh­bour­hood, con­ferred on the ab­bot of St Al­ban’s the right of prece­dence over his fel­low ab­bots, a right hith­er­to at­tached to the abbey of Glas­ton­bury. St Al­ban is com­mem­orat­ed in the Ro­man mar­ty­rol­ogy on the 22nd of June; but it is im­pos­si­ble to de­ter­mine with cer­tain­ty whether he ev­er ex­ist­ed, as no men­tion of him oc­curs till the mid­dle of the 6th cen­tu­ry.

See U. Cheva­lier, Reper­toire des sources his­toriques (1905), i. 95; D. Hardy, De­scrip­tive Cat­alogue (1862), I. i. 3-34, ii. 688.

AL­BANI, or AL­BANO, FRANCESCO (1578-1660), Ital­ian painter, was born at Bologna. His fa­ther was a silk mer­chant, and in­tend­ed to bring up his son to the same oc­cu­pa­tion; but Al­bani was al­ready, at the age of twelve, filled with so strong an in­cli­na­tion for paint­ing, that on the death of his fa­ther he de­vot­ed him­self en­tire­ly to art. His first mas­ter was De­nis Calvert, with whom Gui­do Reni was at the same time a pupil. He was soon left by Calvert en­tire­ly to the care of Gui­do, and con­tract­ed with him a close friend­ship. He fol­lowed Gui­do to the school of the Carac­ci; but af­ter this, ow­ing to mu­tu­al ri­val­ry, their friend­ship be­gan grad­ual­ly to cool. They kept up for a long time a keen com­pe­ti­tion, and their mu­tu­al em­ula­tion called forth some of their best pro­duc­tions. Notwith­stand­ing this ri­val­ry, they still spoke of each oth­er with the high­est es­teem. Al­bani af­ter hav­ing great­ly im­proved him­self in the school of the Carac­ci, went to Rome, where he opened an acade­my and resid­ed for many years. Here he paint­ed, af­ter the de­signs of An­ni­bal Carac­ci, the whole of the fres­coes in the chapel of San Diego in the church of San Gi­aco­mo degli Spag­nuoli. His best fres­coes are those on mytho­log­ical sub­jects, of which there is a large num­ber in the Verospi, now Tor­lonia Palace. On the death of his wife he re­turned to Bologna, where he mar­ried a sec­ond time and resid­ed till his death. His wife and chil­dren were very beau­ti­ful and served him for mod­els. The learn­ing dis­played in the com­po­si­tion of his pic­tures, and their minute elab­ora­tion and exquisite fin­ish, gave them great celebri­ty and en­ti­tle them to a dis­tinc­tive place among the prod­ucts of the Bolog­nese school. A num­ber of his works are at Bologna, and oth­ers at Flo­rence, the Lou­vre, Dres­den and St Pe­ters­burg. Among the best of his sa­cred sub­jects are a “St Se­bas­tian” and an “As­sump­tion of the Vir­gin,” both in the church of St Se­bas­tian at Rome. He was among the first of the Ital­ian painters to de­vote him­self to the paint­ing of cab­inet pic­tures. A rare etch­ing, the “Death of Ui­do,” is at­tribut­ed to him.

AL­BANI, the stage name of MARIE, LOUISE EM­MA CE­CILE LA­JE­UNESSE (1847- ), Cana­di­an singer, who was born at Cham­bly, in the province of Que­bec, on the 27th of Septem­ber 1847. She made her first pub­lic ap­pear­ance in Mon­tre­al, at the age of sev­en, and af­ter­wards stud­ied in the Unit­ed States, Paris and Italy. In 1870 she made her first ap­pear­anceatmessi­na, and af­ter two suc­cess­ful sea­sons ap­peared in Lon­don in 1872 with the Roy­al Ital­ian Opera. Lat­er she aban­doned opera for or­ato­rio. and sang at all the prin­ci­pal fes­ti­vals. She has made sev­er­al tours of Cana­da and of the Unit­ed States, and in 1886 sang at the open­ing of the Colo­nial and In­di­an Ex­hi­bi­tion in Lon­don the ode writ­ten by Ten­nyson for the oc­ca­sion. She fre­quent­ly sang be­fore Queen Vic­to­ria, the Ger­man em­per­or and oth­ers of the crowned heads of Eu­rope, and re­ceived nu­mer­ous marks of their es­teem. In 1897 she was award­ed the gold Beethoven medal by the Lon­don Phil­har­mon­ic So­ci­ety, “as a mark of ap­pre­ci­ation of her ex­cep­tion­al ge­nius and mu­si­cal at­tain­ments, and of her gen­er­ous and artis­tic na­ture.” She mar­riedin 1878 Ernest Gye, the the­atri­cal man­ag­er. Her stage name of Madame Al­bani was tak­en from that of an ex­tinct Ital­ian fam­ily.

See Mor­gan, Cana­di­an Men and Wom­en of the Time (1898).

AL­BA­NIA, the an­cient name of a dis­trict in the east­ern Cau­ca­sus, con­sist­ing, ac­cord­ing to Stra­bo (xi. 4. 1-8), of the val­ley of the Cyrus (Kur) and the land ly­ing be­tween it and the Cau­ca­sus range from Iberia to the Caspi­an Sea, i. e. the mod­ern Shir­van. In re­al­ity the Al­bani in­hab­it­ed al­so the moun­tain val­leys and the land to the north to­wards Sar­ma­tia, the mod­ern Dagh­es­tan (Pliny vi. 39). Diony­sius of JIali­car­nas­sus quotes a tra­di­tion that the name arose from the al­leged fact that the peo­ple were the de­scen­dants of em­igrants from Al­ba in Italy, but it would seem that the race was of Les­ghi­an (not Geor­gian) de­scent. Stra­bo de­scribes them as tall, well made, and in char­ac­ter sim­ple and hon­est; he says that pay­ment was in kind and that the peo­ple could not count be­yond a hun­dred. They wor­shipped the sun, and more par­tic­ular­ly the moon, the lat­ter be­ing per­haps iden­ti­cal with the great Na­ture God­dess of Asia Mi­nor(see GREAT MOTH­ER OF THE GODS), and be­lieved in sooth­say­ing and the virtue of hu­man sac­ri­fice. Old age was held in high hon­our, but it was sac­ri­lege to speak, or even to think, of the dead. The race was no­madic, and lived on the abun­dant nat­ural fruits of the land. In Stra­bo’s time they ap­pear to have been ruled by a sin­gle king, though pre­vi­ous­ly there were twen­ty-​six, each one rul­ing over a com­mu­ni­ty dis­tinct on­ly in point of lan­guage. The Al­bani be­came known to the Ro­mans dur­ing Pom­pey’s pur­suit of Mithra­dates the Great (65 B.C.), against which they are said to have op­posed a force of 60,000 foot and 20,000 cav­al­ry. Pom­pey ex­act­ed from them a nom­inal sub­mis­sion, but their in­de­pen­dence was not se­ri­ous­ly af­fect­ed by the Ro­mans. In the reign of Hadri­an their ter­ri­to­ry was in­vad­ed by the Alani (Th. Momm­sen, Provinces ofthe Ro­man Em­pire, Eng. trans., 1886), and lat­er they fell un­der the Sas­sanid rule. They were driv­en fi­nal­ly in­to Ar­me­nia by the Khaz­ars, and ceased to ex­ist as a sep­arate peo­ple. The dis­trict sub­se­quent­ly suf­fered un­der the suc­ces­sive in­va­sions of Huns, Varangians (who cap­tured the chief town Bar­da in the 10th cen­tu­ry) and Mon­gols. (See CAU­CA­SIA, His­to­ry; AR­ME­NIA.)

AL­BA­NIA, a por­tion of the Turk­ish em­pire ex­tend­ing along the west­ern lit­toral of the Balkan Penin­su­la from the south­ern fron­tier of Mon­tene­gro to the north­ern con­fines of Greece. Al­ba­nia is per­haps the least-​known re­gion in Eu­rope; and though more than a hun­dred years have passed since Gib­bon de­scribed it as “a coun­try with­in sight of Italy, which is less known than the in­te­ri­or of Amer­ica,” but lit­tle progress has yet been made to­wards a sci­en­tif­ic knowl­edge of this in­ter­est­ing land and its in­hab­itants. The wild and in­ac­ces­si­ble char­ac­ter of the coun­try, the fierce and law­less dis­po­si­tion of the peo­ple, the dif­fi­cul­ties pre­sent­ed by their lan­guage and their com­plex so­cial in­sti­tu­tions, and the in­abil­ity of the Turk­ish au­thor­ities to af­ford a safe con­duct in the re­mot­er dis­tricts, com­bine to ren­der Al­ba­nia al­most un­known to the for­eign trav­eller, and many of its ge­ograph­ical prob­lems still re­main un­solved. A por­tion of the Mirdite re­gion, the Mat dis­trict, the neigh­bour­hood of Di­bra, Jako­va and Ipek and oth­er lo­cal­ities have nev­er been thor­ough­ly ex­plored. The north­ern bound­ary of Al­ba­nia un­der­went some al­ter­ation in con­se­quence of the en­large­ment of Mon­tene­gro, sanc­tioned by the Berlin Treaty (Ju­ly 13, 1878); ow­ing to sub­se­quent ar­range­ments pro­vid­ing for the ces­sion of Dul­cig­no to Mon­tene­gro (Novem­ber 25, 1880) in ex­change for the dis­tricts of Pla­va and Gusinye, re­stored to Turkey, the fron­tier-​line (fi­nal­ly set­tled De­cem­ber 1884) now as­cends the Boy­ana from its mouth to Lake Sass (Shas), thence pass­es north­ward. and cross­ing Lake Scu­tari sep­arates the dis­trict of Kutch Kraina on the N. from the ter­ri­to­ries of the Gru­da, Hot and Kle­ment tribes on the S.; leav­ing Gusinye and Pla­va to the S.E., it turns to the N.W. on reach­ing the Mokra Plan­ina, and then fol­lows the course of the Tara riv­er. On the S., Al­ba­ni­an ter­ri­to­ry was cur­tailed ow­ing to the ac­qui­si­tion of the Ar­ta dis­trict by Greece (May 1881), the riv­er Ar­ta now form­ing the fron­tier. On the E. the chains of Shar, Gram­mos and Pin­dus con­sti­tute a kind of nat­ural bound­ary, which does not, how­ev­er, co­in­cide with eth­ni­cal lim­its nor with the Turk­ish ad­min­is­tra­tive di­vi­sions. North-​east­ern Al­ba­nia forms part of the Turk­ish vi­layet of Kosso­vo; the north­ern high­lands are in­clud­ed in the vi­layet of Shko­dra (Scu­tari), the east­ern por­tion of cen­tral Al­ba­nia be­longs to the vi­layet of Mona­stir, and the south­ern dis­tricts are com­prised in the vi­layet of Ian­ni­na. The bound­aries of the three last-​named vi­layets meet near El­bas­san. The name Al­ba­nia (in the Tosk di­alect Ar­be­ria, in the Gheg Ar­be­nia), like Al­ba­nia in the Cau­ca­sus, Ar­me­nia, Al­bany in Britain, and Au­vergne (Ar­ve­ni­aj in France, is prob­ably con­nect­ed with the root alb, alp, and sig­ni­fies “the white or snowy up­lands.”

Phys­ical Fea­tures.–The moun­tain sys­tem is ex­treme­ly com­plex, es­pe­cial­ly that of the north­ern re­gion. On the E. the great Shar range, ex­tend­ing in a south-​west­er­ly di­rec­tion from the neigh­bour­hood of Pr­ishti­na to thatof Di­bra, is con­tin­ued to­wards the S. by the ranges of Gram­mos and Pin­dus; the en­tire chain, a pro­lon­ga­tion of the Alpine sys­tems of Bosnia and Dal­ma­tia, may be de­scribed as the back­bone of the penin­su­la; it forms the wa­ter­shed be­tween the Aegean and the Adri­at­ic, and cul­mi­nates in the lofty peak of Li­ubotrn, near Kalka­ndele, one of the high­est sum­mits in south-​east­ern Eu­rope (8858 ft.). The coun­try to the west of this nat­ural bar­ri­er may be di­vid­ed ge­ograph­ical­ly in­to three dis­tricts—north­ern, cen­tral and south­ern Al­ba­nia. The riv­er Shkumb sep­arates the north­ern from the cen­tral dis­trict, the Vios­sa the cen­tral from the south­ern. The high­land re­gion of north­ern Al­ba­nia is di­vid­ed in­to two por­tions by the low­er course of the Drin; the moun­tains of the north­ern por­tion, the Bies­ka Malzi­is, ex­tend in a con­fused and bro­ken se­ries of ridges from Scu­tari to the val­leys of the Ibar and White Drin; they com­prise the rocky group of the Prokle­tia, or Ac­cursed Moun­tains, with their nu­mer­ous ram­ifi­ca­tions, in­clud­ing Mount Velechik, in­hab­it­ed by the Kas­ti­at and Shkrel tribes, Bukovik by the Hot, Golesh by the Kle­ment, Skulsen (7533 ft.), Ba­ba Vrkh (about 7306 ft.), Maranay near Scu­tari, and the Bas­trik range to the east. South of the Drin is an­oth­er com­plex moun­tain sys­tem, in­clud­ing the high­lands in­hab­it­ed by the Mirdites and the Mat tribe; among the prin­ci­pal sum­mits are De­ja Maz­zukht, Mal-​i Vels, Kra­ba, Toli and Mnela. Cen­tral Al­ba­nia dif­fers from the north­ern and south­ern re­gions in the more un­du­lat­ing and less rugged char­ac­ter of its sur­face; it con­tains con­sid­er­able low­land tracts, such as the wide and fer­tile plain of Musse­ki, tra­versed by the riv­er Simen. The prin­ci­pal sum­mit is To­mor (7916 ft.), over­hang­ing the town of Be­rat. South­ern Al­ba­nia, again, is al­most whol­ly moun­tain­ous, with the ex­cep­tion of the plains of Ian­ni­na an­dar­ta; the most note­wor­thy fea­ture is the rugged range of the Tchi­ka, or Khi­mara moun­tains, which skirt the sea-​coast from south-​west to north-​east, ter­mi­nat­ing in the lofty promon­to­ry of Glos­sa (an­cient Acro­cer­au­nia.) Far­ther in­land the Mishke­li range to the north-​east of Lake Ian­ni­na and the Ne­mertzi­ka moun­tains run in a par­al­lel di­rec­tion. In the ex­treme south, be­yond the basin of the Kala­mas, the moun­tains of Sull and Olyzi­ka form a sep­arate group. The rivers, as a rule, flow from east to west; ow­ing to the ra­pid­ity of their de­scent none are nav­iga­ble ex­cept the Boy­ana and Ar­ta in their low­er cours­es. The prin­ci­pal rivers are the Boy­ana, is­su­ing from Lake Scu­tari, and con­se­quent­ly re­gard­ed as a con­tin­ua­tion of the Mon­tene­grin Moratcha, the Drin, formed by the con­flu­ence of the White and Black Drin, which, flow­ing re­spec­tive­ly to the south and north through a long val­ley at the foot of the Shar range, take a west­er­ly di­rec­tion af­ter their junc­tion, the AIa­tia, the Arzen, the Shkumb (an­cient G:e:iu­sos), the Simen (Ap­sos), formed by the junc­tion of the De­vol and Er­gene, the Vios­sa (Aous), which ow­ing to the trend of the Khi­mara range takes a north-​west­er­ly di­rec­tion, the Rala­mas (Thyamis) and the Ar­ta (Arachthos), flow­ing south in­to the Am­bra­ci­ah Gulf. A por­tion of the stream of the Drin has found its way in­to the Boy­ana chan­nel; the re­sult has been a rise in the lev­el of Lake Scu­tari and the in­un­da­tion of the ad­ja­cent low­lands. A pro­pos­al to con­fine the Drin to its for­mer course by means of a dyke, and to ease the down­flow of the Boy­ana by a canal open­ing nav­iga­tion to Lake Scu­tari, has long been con­sid­ered by the Turli­ish au­thor­ities. The great lakes of Scu­tari (135 sq. m.) and Ochri­da (107 sq. m.) are among the most beau­ti­ful in Eu­rope; the wa­ters of Ochri­da, which find an out­let in the Black Drin, are of mar­vel­lous clear­ness. Lake KI­ahk, south by east of Ochri­da, is drained by the De­vol. The wa­ters of the pic­turesque Lake Ian­ni­na (24 sq. m.) find an is­sue by kataboth­ra, or un­der­ground chan­nels, in­to the Am­bra­cian Gulf. The lake of Butrin­to (Buthro­tum) is near the sea-​coast op­po­site Cor­fu.

Cli­mate.—The cli­mate is healthy in the up­lands, though sub­ject to vi­olent changes; in the val­leys fever is very preva­lent, es­pe­cial­ly in the basins of the Boy­ana, the low­er Drin and the Simen. The win­ter is short, but ex­ceed­ing­ly cold; snow re­mains on the Prokle­tia and oth­er moun­tains till Au­gust, and some­times through­out the year. The sum­mer tem­per­ature in the plains is that of south­ern Italy; in the moun­tain dis­tricts it is high dur­ing the day, but falls al­most to freez­ing-​point at night. The sea-​coast is ex­posed to the fierce bo­ra, or north wind, dur­ing the spring.

Nat­ural Prod­ucts.–The moun­tains of Al­ba­nia are said to be rich in min­er­als, but this source of wealth re­mains prac­ti­cal­ly un­ex­plored. Iron and coal are prob­ably abun­dant, and sil­ver-​lead, cop­per and an­ti­mo­ny are be­lieved to ex­ist. Cold mines were worked in an­tiq­ui­ty in the Drin val­ley, and sil­ver mines in the Mirdite re­gion were known to the Vene­tians in the mid­dle ages. At Selin­itza, near Avlona, there is a re­mark­able de­posit of min­er­al pitch which was ex­ten­sive­ly worked in Ro­man times; min­ing op­er­ations are still car­ried on here, but in a some­what prim­itive fash­ion. The splen­did forests, of which there are 70,000 acres in the vi­layet of Scu­tari alone, are un­der­go­ing a rapid pro­cess of de­struc­tion, as in oth­er lands un­der Turk­ish rule. The prin­ci­pal trees are the oak, the val­onia oak, the beech. ash, elm, plane, celtis, poplar and wal­nut, which give way in the high­er re­gions to the pine and fir. The oak forests near Di­bra, where char­coal­mak­ing is a con­sid­er­able in­dus­try, and the beech-​woods of the Pr­ishti­na dis­trict, are es­pe­cial­ly re­mark­able. The sumach is large­ly grown in the Mirdite dis­trict; its leaves are ex­port­ed to Tri­este for use in tan­ner­ies and dye­works. In 1898 the ex­port of val­onia was es­ti­mat­ed at L. 11,200, of sumach at L. 2400. Of fruit-​trees the white mul­ber­ry, cher­ry and wild pear are plen­ti­ful; the chest­nut and wal­nut are some­times met with, and the olive is grown in the low­land and mar­itime dis­tricts. The ex­por­ta­tion of olive oil in 1808 was val­ued at L. 24,000. The greater part of the coun­try is ad­mirably suit­ed to viti­cul­ture, and wine of tol­er­able qual­ity is pro­duced. To­bac­co is grown ex­ten­sive­ly in south­ern Al­ba­nia, es­pe­cial­ly near Be­rat and in the up­per val­ley of the Vios­sa, but the quan­ti­ty ex­port­ed is small. The means of sub­sis­tence are main­ly pro­vid­ed by the cul­ti­va­tion of grain and cat­tle-​rear­ing. Notwith­stand­ing the prim­itive con­di­tion of agri­cul­ture, the de­fi­cien­cy of com­mu­ni­ca­tions and the dam­age caused by fre­quent in­un­da­tions, Al­ba­nia fur­nish­es al­most the en­tire corn sup­plu of the Dal­ma­tian coast and is­lands. Maize is the favourite grain for home con­sump­tion, but con­sid­er­able quan­ti­ties of this ce­re­al, as well as bar­ley, rye and oats are ex­port­ed. The to­tal ex­port of ce­re­als in 1808 was val­ued at L. 70,800. Sheep and goats form al­most the on­ly wealth of the moun­taineers of north­ern Al­ba­nia; large cat­tle are found on­ly on the plains. The slopes of Pin­dus af­ford ex­cel­lent pas­ture for the flocks of the Vlach shep­herds. The ex­port of raw hides and wool is con­sid­er­able; in 1898 these com­modi­ties were val­ued re­spec­tive­ly at L. 90,400 and L. 24,000. The lakes and rivers of Al­ba­nia abound in fish. The sco­ranze (Alb. ser­aga), a kind of sar­dine, is tak­en in great quan­ti­ties in Lake Scu­tari; it is salt­ed and smoked for home con­sump­tion and ex­por­ta­tion. Sea-​fish­ing is al­most whol­ly ne­glect­ed. There are salines at Avlona and oth­er places on the coast.

Com­merce anid In­dus­tries.–The ex­ports in 1898 were es­ti­mat­ed at L. 480,000, the im­ports at L. 1,360,000, the for­mer com­pris­ing agri­cul­tur­al pro­duce, live stock, hides, wool, cheese, eggs, poul­try, olive oil, val­onia, sumach leaves, tim­ber, skins of wild an­imals, silk, to­bac­co and salt­ed fish, the lat­ter man­ufac­tured ar­ti­cles, cloth, hard­ware, fur­ni­ture, firearms, gun­pow­der, sug­ar, cof­fee, &c. The monopoly of Al­ba­ni­an com­merce for­mer­ly Dossessed by Venice has de­scend­ed to Aus­tria-​Hun­gary; the trade with oth­er coun­tries, ex­cept Italy, is in­con­sid­er­able. Ow­ing to the pover­ty of the peo­ple, cheap Aus­tri­an goods find a read­ier sale than the more ex­pen­sive and sol­id British man­ufac­tures. The mar­itime traf­fic is large­ly con­duct­ed by the steam­ers of the sub­si­dized Aus­tri­an-​Lloyd com­pa­ny, Tri­este be­ing the prin­ci­pal com­mer­cial cen­tre; the coast­ing trade is car­ried on by small Greek and Turk­ish sail­ing ves­sels. The trade of the north­ern and west­ern dis­tricts has to some ex­tent been di­vert­ed to Sa­loni­ca since the open­ing of the rail­ways from that town to Mitro­vitza and Mona­stir. The de­vel­op­ment of com­merce is re­tard­ed by lack of com­mu­ni­ca­tions; the coun­try Dossess­es no rail­ways and few roads. Sev­er­al rail­way lines have been pro­ject­ed, but there is no great prob­abil­ity of their con­struc­tion un­der ex­ist­ing po­lit­ical con­di­tions. The Via Eg­na­tia, the great Ro­man high­way to the east, is still used; it runs from Du­raz­zo (Dyrrhachi­um) to El­bas­san and Ochri­da. Ian­ni­na is con­nect­ed by car­riage-​roads with Mona­stir, Agii Saran­ta and Pre­veza. As a rule, how­ev­er, bri­dle-​paths sup­ply the on­ly means of com­mu­ni­ca­tion. The na­tive in­dus­tries are in­con­sid­er­able, and many of them are in a lan­guish­ing con­di­tion. The man­ufac­ture of high­ly or­nate firearms, yataghans and oth­er weapons at Scu­tari, Jako­va and Prizren has de­clined, ow­ing to the im­por­ta­tion of mod­ern ri­fies and re­volvers. Gold and silk em­broi­dery, fil­igree work, mo­roc­co and rich­ly-​braid­ed jack­ets are pro­duced for home use and for sale in Bosnia, Mace­do­nia and Mon­tene­gro.

Pop­ula­tion—-The pop­ula­tion of Al­ba­nia may be es­ti­mat­ed at be­tween 1,600,000 and 1,500,000, of whom 1,200,000 or 1,100,000 are Al­ba­ni­ans. Of the oth­er races the Slavs (Serbs and Bul­gars) are the most nu­mer­ous, pos­si­bly num­ber­ing 250,000. Ser­vian set­tle­ments ex­ist in var­ious parts of north­ern Al­ba­nia; there is a strong Bul­gar­ian colony in the neigh­bour­hood of Di­bra and Ochri­da; far­ther south, Mount Zy­gos and the Pin­dus range–the “Great Walachia” of the mid­dle ages—are in­hab­it­ed by Vlachs or Tz­intzars, who pos­si­bly num­ber 70,000. Some Turk­ish colonies are al­so found in the south-​east­ern dis­tricts. There is a con­sid­er­able Greek-​speak­ing pop­ula­tion in Epiros (in­clud­ing many Ma­hommedan Al­ba­ni­ans), which must, how­ev­er, be dis­tin­guished from the gen­uine Greeks of Ian­ni­na, Pre­veza and the ex­treme south; these may be es­ti­mat­ed at 100,000. The pop­ula­tion of the vi­layet of Scu­tari is giv­en as 237,000, that of the vi­layet of Ian­ni­na as 552,000. The prin­ci­pal towns are Scu­tari (Al­ba­ni­an Shkoder, with the def­inite ar­ti­cle Shko­dr-​a), the cap­ital of the vi­layet of that name, pop. 32,000; Prizren, 30,000; Ian­ni­na (of­ten in­cor­rect­ly writ­ten Ioan­ni­na), cap­ital of the south­ern vi­layet, 22,000; Jako­va, 12,000; Di­bra, 15,000; Pr­ishti­na, 11,000; Ipek (Slav. Petch), 15,000; Be­rat, 15,000; Ochri­da, 11,000; Tirana, 12,000; Ar­gy­rokas­tro, 11,000; Ko­rtcha (Slav. Goritza), 10,000; El­bas­san (per­haps an­cient Al­ba­nop­olis), 8000; Met­zo­vo, 7500; Pre­veza, 6500; Avlona, 6000; Du­raz­zo, 5000; Par­ga, 5000; Butrin­to, 2000; and Kroia, the an­cient fortress of Scan­der­beg, 5000. All these, ex­cept El­bas­san, Met­zo­vo and Kroia, are de­scribed in sep­arate ar­ti­cles.

The Al­ba­ni­ans are ap­par­ent­ly the most an­cient race in south­east­ern Eu­rope. His­to­ry and leg­end af­ford no record of their ar­rival in the Balkan Penin­su­la. They are prob­ably the de­scen­dants of the ear­li­est Aryan im­mi­grants, who were rep­re­sent­ed in his­tor­ical times by the kin­dred Il­lyr­ians, Mace­do­nians and Epirots; the Mace­do­nians and Epirots are be­lieved by Hahn to have formed the core of the pre-​Hel­lenic Tyrrheno-​Pelas­gian pop­ula­tion which in­hab­it­ed the south­ern por­tion of the penin­su­la and ex­tend­ed its lim­its to Thrace and Italy. The Il­lyr­ians were al­so “Pelas­gian,” but in a wider sense. Of these cog­nate races, which are de­scribed by the Greek writ­ers as bar­barous or non-​Hel­lenic, the Il­lyr­ians and Epirots, he thinks, were re­spec­tive­ly the pro­gen­itors of the Ghegs, or north­ern, and the Tosks, or south­ern, Al­ba­ni­ans. The Via Eg­na­tia, which Stra­bo (vii. frag­ment 3) de­scribes as form­ing the bound­ary be­tween the Il­lyr­ians and Epirots, prac­ti­cal­ly cor­re­sponds with the course of the Shkumb, which now sep­arates the Ghegs and the Tosks. The same ge­og­ra­pher (v. 2. 221) states that the Epirots were al­so called Pelas­gians; the Pelas­gian Zeus was wor­shipped at Dodona (Homer, Il. xvi. 234), and the neigh­bour­hood of the sanc­tu­ary was called Pelas­gia (Herodotus ii. 56). The mean­ing of the term “Pelas­gian” is, how­ev­er, too ob­scure to fur­nish a ba­sis for ethno­graph­ical spec­ula­tion; in the time of Herodotus it may have al­ready come to de­note a pe­ri­od rather than a race. The name Tosk is pos­si­bly iden­ti­cal with Tus­cus, Etr­uscus, while the form Tyrrhenus per­haps sur­vives in Tirana. The large num­ber of Slavon­ic lo­cal names in Al­ba­nia, even in dis­tricts where no trace of a Slavon­ic pop­ula­tion ex­ists, bears wit­ness to the ex­ten­sive Ser­vian and Bul­gar­ian im­mi­gra­tions in the ear­ly mid­dle ages, but the orig­inal in­hab­itants grad­ual­ly oust­ed or as­sim­ilat­ed the in­vaders. The de­ter­mi­na­tion with which this re­mark­able race has main­tained its moun­tain stronghold through a long se­ries of ages has hith­er­to met with scant ap­pre­ci­ation in the out­side world. While the hero­ism of the Mon­tene­grins has been laud­ed by writ­ers of all coun­tries, the Al­ba­ni­ans—if we ex­cept By­ron’s eu­lo­gy of the Su­loits—still re­main un­sung. Not less no­tice­able is the tenac­ity with which iso­lat­ed frag­ments of the na­tion have pre­served their pe­cu­liar char­ac­ter­is­tics, lan­guage, cus­toms and tra­di­tions. The Al­ba­ni­ans in Greece and Italy, though sep­arat­ed for six cen­turies from the par­ent stock, have not yet been ab­sorbed by the sur­round­ing pop­ula­tions.

The Al­ba­ni­ans, both Ghegs and Tosks, call them­selves Shku­petar, and their land Shku­pe­nia or Shku­pe­ria, the for­mer be­ing the Gheg, the lat­ter the Tosk form of the word. Shku­petar has been var­ious­ly in­ter­pret­ed. Ac­cord­ing to Hahn it is a par­ticip­ial from shkyipoij, “I un­der­stand,” sig­ni­fy­ing “he who knows” the na­tive lan­guage; oth­ers in­ter­pret it with less prob­abil­ity as “the rock-​dweller,” from shkep, shkip, N. Alb. shkamp, “rock.” The des­ig­na­tions Ar­ber (Gr. ‘Ar­ban­ites, Turk. Ar­naoi­it), de­not­ing the peo­ple, and Ar­be­nia or Ar­be­ria, the land, are al­so, though less fre­quent­ly, used by the Al­ba­ni­ans. A dis­trict near Kroia is lo­cal­ly known as Ar­be­nia; the Tosk form Ar­be­ria strict­ly ap­plies on­ly to the moun­tain re­gion near Avlona. The re­gion in­hab­it­ed by a more or less ho­mo­ge­neous Al­ba­ni­an pop­ula­tion may be rough­ly marked out by a line drawn from the Mon­tene­grin fron­tier at Be­rane to Mitro­vitza and the Ser­vian fron­tier near Vranya; thence to Uskub, Prilep, Mona­stir, Flo­ri­na, Kas­to­ria, Ian­ni­na and Par­ga. These lim­its, how­ev­er, are far from in­clud­ing all the mem­bers of a wide­ly scat­tered race. The Al­ba­ni­ans in Greece, whose set­tle­ments ex­tend over At­ti­ca, Boeo­tia, the dis­trict of Corinth and the Ar­gol­id penin­su­la, as well as south­ern Eu­boea and the is­lands of Hy­dra, Spet­zae, Poros and Salamis, de­scend from Tosk im­mi­grants in the 14th cen­tu­ry. They played a bril­liant part in the War of In­de­pen­dence (1821-1829), and to-​day sup­ply the Greek army with its best sol­diers. They were es­ti­mat­ed by Leake at 200,000. A large num­ber still speak the Al­ba­ni­an lan­gaage; many of the old­er men, and a con­sid­er­able pro­por­tion of the wom­en, even in the neigh­bour­hood of Athens, are ig­no­rant of Greek. The Al­ba­ni­an set­tle­ments in south­ern Italy and Sici­ly were found­ed in 1444, 1464 and 1468; mi­nor im­mi­gra­tions fol­lowed in the three suc­ceed­ing cen­turies. In south­ern Italy there are 72 Al­ba­ni­an com­munes, with 154,674 in­hab­itants; in Sici­ly 7 com­munes, with 52,141 in­hab­itants. The Ital­ian and Si­cil­ian Al­ba­ni­ans are of Tosk de­scent, and many of them still speak a vari­ation of the Tosk di­alect. There are al­so sev­er­al Al­ba­ni­an set­tle­ments in Eu­ro­pean Turkey and Asia Mi­nor, some found­ed by mil­itary colonists who re­ceived grants of land from suc­ces­sive sul­tans, oth­ers ow­ing their ori­gin to en­forced mi­gra­tions af­ter in­sur­rec­tions in Al­ba­nia. The on­ly gen­uine di­vi­sion of the Al­ba­ni­an race is that of Ghegs and Tosks; the Li­aps, who in­hab­it the dis­trict be­tween the Vios­sa and the sea, and the Tshams or Chams, who oc­cu­py the coast-​land south of the Kala­mas, are sub­di­vi­sions of the Tosk fam­ily. The name Gheg (Gege-​a) is not adopt­ed by the Ghegs them­selves, be­ing re­gard­ed as a nick­name; the des­ig­na­tion Tosk (Toske-​a) is re­strict­ed by the Tosks to the in­hab­itants of a small re­gion north of the low­er Vios­sa (Toske­ria).

Na­tion­al Char­ac­ter­is­tics.—While the oth­er prim­itive pop­ula­tions of the penin­su­la were ei­ther hel­lenized or la­tinized, or sub­se­quent­ly ab­sorbed by the Slavon­ic im­mi­gra­tion, the Al­ba­ni­ans to a great ex­tent re­mained un­af­fect­ed by for­eign in­flu­ences. Re­tain­ing their orig­inal lan­guage and pre­serv­ing the cus­toms and in­sti­tu­tions of re­mote an­tiq­ui­ty, they present a dis­tinct type, and dif­fer in many es­sen­tial par­tic­ulars from the oth­er na­tions of the penin­su­la. The Ghegs es­pe­cial­ly, notwith­stand­ing their fierce and law­less char­ac­ter, their su­per­sti­tion, ig­no­rance and preda­to­ry propen­si­ties, pos­sess some note­wor­thy qual­ities rarely found in east­ern Eu­rope: sim­ple, brave, faith­ful, and some­times ca­pa­ble of de­vot­ed at­tach­ment, these wild moun­taineers make ex­cel­lent sol­diers and trust­wor­thy re­tain­ers; they have long fur­nished a body­guard to the sul­tan and, like the Tosks, are much em­ployed as kavass­es and at­ten­dants at for­eign em­bassies and con­sulates in the East. The na­tive dis­po­si­tion of the Tosks has been mod­ified by in­ter­course with the Greeks and Vlachs; while the Gheg de­votes his at­ten­tion ex­clu­sive­ly to fight­ing, rob­bery and pas­toral pur­suits, the Tosk oc­ca­sion­al­ly oc­cu­pies him­self with com­mer­cial, in­dus­tri­al or agri­cul­tur­al em­ploy­ments; the Gheg is stern, mo­rose and haughty, the Tosk live­ly, talkative and af­fa­ble. The nat­ural an­tipa­thy be­tween the two sec­tions of the race, though less ev­ident than in for­mer times, is far from ex­tinct. In all parts of Al­ba­nia the vendet­ta (gyak, jak) or blood-​feud, the prim­itive lex tal­io­nis, is an es­tab­lished us­age; the du­ty of re­venge is a sa­cred tra­di­tion hand­ed down to suc­ces­sive gen­er­ations in the fam­ily, the vil­lage and the tribe. A sin­gle case of homi­cide of­ten leads to a se­ries of sim­ilar crimes or to pro­tract­ed war­fare be­tween neigh­bour­ing fam­ilies and com­mu­ni­ties; the mur­der­er, as a rule, takes refuge in the moun­tains from the avenger of blood, or re­mains for years shut up in his house. It is es­ti­mat­ed that in con­se­quence of these feuds scarce­ly 75% of the pop­ula­tion in cer­tain moun­tain­ous dis­tricts die a nat­ural death. A truce (bessa, lit­er­al­ly “faith,” “pledge”), ei­ther tem­po­rary or per­ma­nent, is some­times ar­ranged by me­di­ation, or among the Ghegs, by the in­ter­ven­tion of the cler­gy; a gen­er­al bessa has oc­ca­sion­al­ly been pro­claimed by spe­cial irade of the sul­tan, the restora­tion of peace be­ing cel­ebrat­ed with elab­orate cer­emonies. So strin­gent are the obli­ga­tions of hos­pi­tal­ity that a house­hold is bound to ex­act repa­ra­tion for any in­jury done to a guest as though he were a mem­ber of the fam­ily. No trav­eller can ven­ture in­to the moun­tain dis­tricts with­out the bessa of one of the in­hab­itants; once this has been ob­tained he will be hos­pitably wel­comed. In some dis­tricts there is a fixed price of blood; at Ar­gy­rokas­tro, for in­stance, the com­pen­sa­tion paid by the homi­cide to the rel­atives of his vic­tim is 1200 pi­as­tres (about L. 10), at Khi­mara 2000 pi­as­tres; once the debt has been ac­quit­ted am­ica­ble re­la­tions are re­stored. Notwith­stand­ing their com­plete sub­jec­tion, wom­en are treat­ed with a cer­tain re­spect, and are of­ten em­ployed as in­ter­me­di­aries in the set­tle­ment of feuds; a wom­an may tra­verse a hos­tile dis­trict with­out fear of in­jury, and her bessa will pro­tect the trav­eller or the stranger. Wom­en ac­com­pa­ny their male rel­atives to the bat­tle-​field for the pur­pose of tend­ing the wound­ed and car­ry­ing away the dead. The bride brings no dowry to her hus­band; she is pur­chased at a stip­ulat­ed price, and earnest-​mon­ey is paid at the be­trothal, which usu­al­ly takes place while the con­tract­ing par­ties are still chil­dren. It is cus­tom­ary for young men who are at­tached to each oth­er to swear eter­nal broth­er­hood (com­pare the Slavon­ic po­bra­tim­st­vo); the con­tract is re­gard­ed as sa­cred, and no in­stance has been known of its vi­ola­tion. The cos­tume of the Tosks dif­fers from that of the Ghegs; its dis­tinc­tive fea­ture is the white plait­ed linen fus­tanel­la or pet­ti­coat, which has been adopt­ed by the Greeks; the Ghegs wear trews of white or crim­son na­tive cloth adorned with black braid, and a short, close-​fit­ting jack­et, which in the case of wealthy per­sons is em­bel­lished with gold lace. The fez is worn by both races, and in the north­ern high­lands yataghans and firearms are al­most in­vari­ably car­ried. The cos­tume of the Mirdite and Mat tribes is pe­cu­liar. It con­sists of a white felt cap, a long white tu­nic bound with a red gir­dle, white linen trousers and opin­ki, or san­dals.

Trib­al Sys­tem.—The trib­al or­ga­ni­za­tion in north­ern Al­ba­nia is an in­ter­est­ing sur­vival of the ear­li­est form of so­cial com­bi­na­tion; it may be com­pared in many re­spects with that which ex­ist­ed in the Scot­tish high­lands in the time of the Stu­art kings. The prac­ti­cal au­ton­omy which the Gheg moun­taineers en­joy has been won by a pro­longed and suc­cess­ful re­sis­tance to Turk­ish dom­ina­tion; as a rule they pay no tax­es, they are ex­empt from the con­scrip­tion, they know noth­ing of the Ot­toman law, and the few Turk­ish of­fi­cials es­tab­lished amongst them pos­sess no re­al au­thor­ity. Their on­ly obli­ga­tion to the Turk­ish gov­ern­ment is to fur­nish a con­tin­gent in time of war; the on­ly law they rec­og­nize is ei­ther tra­di­tion­al cus­tom (adet) or the un­writ­ten Ha­nun-​i Leks Duka­jinit, a civ­il and crim­inal code, so called from its au­thor, Le­ka Duka­ji­ni, who is sup­posed to have lived in the 13th or 14th cen­tu­ry. The tribe or mal (“moun­tain”) is of­ten com­posed of sev­er­al clans (phis-​i, pharea) or baryaks (lit­er­al­ly “stan­dards”) each un­der a chief or baryak­tar (stan­dard-​bear­er), who is, strict­ly speak­ing, a mil­itary lead­er; there are in each clan a cer­tain num­ber of el­ders or voivodes (Al­ba­ni­an kru-​y’e, pl. krenic-​te) who form a coun­cil and, like the baryak­tar, hold their oflice by hered­itary right; they pre­side over the as­sem­blies of the tribes­men, which ex­er­cise the supreme leg­isla­tive pow­er. The clan is gen­er­al­ly sub­di­vid­ed in­to small­er com­mu­ni­ties (ma­hale), each ad­min­is­tered by a lo­cal no­table or jo­bar. The jo­bars su­per­in­tend the ex­ecu­tion of the laws, col­lect fines and ad­min­is­ter cap­ital pun­ish­ment; they are in con­tact with the bu­luk-​bashi, or res­ident rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the tribe at Scu­tari, who forms the on­ly link be­tween the moun­taineers and the Turk­ish gov­ern­ment. He com­mu­ni­cates to the tribes­men the or­ders of the vali, which must be framed in ac­cor­dance with their cus­toms and in­sti­tu­tions. The tribes of north­ern Al­ba­nia, or Ghege­ria, may be clas­si­fied in sev­en groups as fol­lows:—-(1) The Mirdites, who in­hab­it the alpine re­gion around Orosh to the south-​east of Scu­tari–the most im­por­tant of all in re­spect of num­bers (about 17,000) and po­lit­ical in­de­pen­dence. A Ro­man Catholic tribe, oc­cu­py­ing an in­ac­ces­si­ble dis­trict, they have hith­er­to de­feat­ed ev­ery ef­fort of the Turks to en­croach on their au­ton­omy. Their hered­itary chiefs, or cap­idans, be­long to the fam­ily known as De­ra e Jon Markut (the house of John Mar­co), which has ruled for 200 years and is sup­posed to be de­scend­ed from Scan­der­beg. In 1868 the reign­ing chief, Bib Do­da, died, and his son and suc­ces­sor Prenk was de­tained as a hostage by the Turks. The Mirdites con­se­quent­ly re­fused to con­tribute their cus­tom­ary con­tin­gent to the Turk­ish army, and even­tu­al­ly Prenk was re­stored. His am­bigu­ous con­duct, how­ev­er, led to the despatch of two ex­pe­di­tions against the Mirdites and the dev­as­ta­tion of their ter­ri­to­ry. In 1880 Prenk was kid­napped by the Turk­ish au­thor­ities and ex­iled to Ana­to­lia; an­oth­er mem­ber of the rul­ing fam­ily was ap­point­ed kaimakam, but the Mirdites re­fused to obey him, and their dis­trict has ev­er since been in a state of an­ar­chy. No Moslem is al­lowed to re­main in Mirdite ter­ri­to­ry. (2) The Mi-​shko­drak (Up­per Scu­tari) group or con­fed­er­ation, al­so known as the Mal­sia-​Mad­he (Great High­lands), is com­posed of the Kle­ment, Grud-​a, Hot, Kas­trat and Shkrel tribes, which oc­cu­py the moun­tain­ous dis­trict north-​east of Scu­tari. OW­ing to the prox­im­ity of the cap­ital this group is com­par­ative­ly sub­ject to the Turk­ish pow­er, and pays a small an­nu­al trib­ute; the chiefs, who as­sess and col­lect the trib­ute, form a kind of ad­min­is­tra­tive coun­cil; the con­fed­er­ation has al­so an of­fi­cial rep­re­sen­ta­tive coun­cil at Scu­tari, called the Jibal, un­der the pres­iden­cy of a Serkarde or Moslem of­fi­cial. (3) The Duka­jin, whose ter­ri­to­ry lies be­tween that of the last-​named group and the dis­trict of Jako­va, in­clude the Pu­lati, Shal­la, Shoshi and oth­er tribes; they are more in­de­pen­dent and more sav­age than the Mi-​shko­drak, and have nev­er paid trib­ute from time im­memo­ri­al. (4) The Pu­ka group, known as “the Sev­en Baryaks of Pu­ka,” dwell on the south side of the riv­er Drin; the­yare nom­inal­ly ad­min­is­tered by a Turk­ish kaimakam, who is a mere spec­ta­tor of their pro­ceed­ings. (5) The Mal­sia Jakovs, a group of two Catholic and three Moslem tribes, ex­tend in the di­rec­tion of Jako­va, where they main­tain an of­fi­cial rep­re­sen­ta­tive; they are en­tire­ly ex­empt from tax­ation. (6,7) The Mal­sia-​Lezhs, who oc­cu­py the Alessio high­lands, and the Mal­sia Krues, who in­hab­it the re­gion north of Kro­la, live in a state of ex­treme pover­ty and pay no trib­ute; the Mal­sia Krues are much ad­dict­ed to brig­andage. To these sev­en groups, which are in­clud­ed un­der the gen­er­al ap­pel­la­tion of Malis­sori, or “high­landers,” may be added the Mal­sia of IAbra, who ex­tend to the west and north of that town, and form a large sep­arate group; they are no­to­ri­ous for their fierce law­less char­ac­ter, and main­tain them­selves by plun­der­ing the Bul­gar­ian peas­ants in their neigh­bour­hood. In gen­er­al the at­ti­tude of the Al­ba­ni­ans in the north-​east­ern dis­tricts to­wards the Slavon­ic peas­antry may be com­pared with that of the Kurds to­wards the Ar­me­ni­ans. In the re­gion east of Kroia the Mat tribe, which oc­cu­pies the up­per val­ley of the Ma­tra, presents an en­tire­ly dif­fer­ent or­ga­ni­za­tion; their dis­trict is gov­erned by four wealthy fam­ilies, pos­sess­ing hered­itary rank and in­flu­ence. To­wards the south the trib­al or­ga­ni­za­tion be­comes loos­er and is grad­ual­ly sup­plant­ed by a kind of feu­dal sys­tem; among the pow­er­ful aris­to­crat­ic hous­es may be men­tioned the Vliores at Avlona, who are stat­ed to own over 150 sq. m. of land, and the Top­tans at Tirana. The prin­ci­pal landown­ers, who re­side in for­ti­fied hous­es, are all Moslems; their es­tates are cul­ti­vat­ed on the metay­er sys­tem. Since the time of Ali Pasha, who broke the pow­er of the lo­cal chief­tains, south­ern Al­ba­nia has been sub­ject to the cen­tral Turk­ish pow­er; be­fore that pe­ri­od the moun­taineers of Suh and Khi­mara en­joyed an in­de­pen­dence sim­ilar to that of the Gheg tribes.

Re­li­gions.—The great ma­jor­ity of the Al­ba­ni­ans, prob­ably more than three-​fifths, are Moslems. The con­ver­sion of the Chris­tian pop­ula­tion to Is­lam ap­pears to have tak­en place dur­ing the 16th and 17th cen­turies. Like the Cre­tan Moslems and the Bul­gar­ian Po­maks, the Al­ba­ni­an Ma­hommedans re­tain many Chris­tian tra­di­tions and cus­toms; it is said that many thou­sands of them se­cret­ly ad­here to their orig­inal faith. In the vi­layet of Scu­tari they form about 55% of the pop­ula­tion; cen­tral Al­ba­nia is al­most en­tire­ly Moslem; in south­ern Al­ba­nia, how­ev­er, there is a con­sid­er­able Chris­tian pop­ula­tion, whose lim­its prac­ti­cal­ly co­in­cide with those of the Greek-​speak­ing dis­tricts. Of the Chris­tian pop­ula­tion (about 600,000), some 110,000 are Ro­man Catholic Ghegs, some 90,000 are Or­tho­dox Tosks, and some 400,000 are Or­tho­dox Slavs, Greeks and Vlachs. The Ro­man Catholic Ghegs ap­pear to have aban­doned the East­ern for the West­ern Church in the mid­dle of the 13th cen­tu­ry. Their bish­ops and priests, who Wear the mous­tache in def­er­ence to pop­ular prej­udice, are typ­ical spec­imens of the church mil­itant. Some of the Gheg tribes, such as the Pu­ka, Mal­sia Jakovs and Mal­sia Krues, are part­ly Ro­man Catholic, part­ly Moslem; among fel­lowtribes­men the dif­fer­ence of re­li­gion counts for lit­tle. The Mirdites are ex­clu­sive­ly Ro­man Catholic, the Mat-​i ex­clu­sive­ly Moslem. At the head of the Ro­man Catholic hi­er­ar­chy are the arch­bish­ops of Scu­tari (with three suf­fra­gans), Prizren and Du­raz­zo; the mitred ab­bot of St Alexan­der is the spir­itu­al chief of the Mirdites. The Or­tho­dox Church has metropoli­tans at Prizren, Du­raz­zo, Be­rat, Ian­ni­na and Ko­rtcha; the Bul­gar­ian exar­chate main­tains a bish­op at Di­bra. Of the Al­ba­ni­ans in Sici­ly the great ma­jor­ity (44791) re­main faith­ful to the Greek Church; in Italy 116,482 fol­low the Latin rit­ual, and 38,192 the Greek. All the Al­ba­ni­ans in Greece be­long to the Or­tho­dox Church.

Ed­uca­tion.—Ed­uca­tion is al­most non-​ex­is­tent, and the vast ma­jor­ity of the pop­ulati(m, both Chris­tian and Moslem, are to­tal­ly il­lit­er­ate. In­struc­tion in the Al­ba­ni­an lan­guage is pro­hib­it­ed by the Turk­ish gov­ern­ment for po­lit­ical rea­sons; a sin­gle­ex­cep­tion has been made in the case­of an Amer­ican school for girls at Ko­rtcha. There are Turk­ish pri­ma­ry and sec­ondary schools in some of the towns; in the vil­lage mosques in­struc­tion in the Ko­ran is giv­en by the imams, but nei­ther read­ing nor writ­ing is taught. The aris­to­crat­ic Moslem fam­ilies send their sons to be ed­ucat­ed in Con­stantino­ple or Vi­en­na. At Scu­tari a col­lege and a sem­inary are main­tained by the Je­suits, with the aid of the Aus­tri­an gov­ern­ment; the Fran­cis­cans have sev­er­al pri­ma­ry schools, and three lay schools are sup­port­ed by the Ital­ian gov­ern­ment; in all these in­sti­tu­tions Ital­ian is the lan­guage of in­struc­tion. There are two Ser­vian sem­inar­ies at Prizren. In south­ern Al­ba­nia there are Greek schools in the towns and a large Greek gym­na­si­um at Ian­ni­na. The priests of the Greek Church, on whom the ru­ral pop­ula­tion de­pend for in­struc­tion, are of­ten de­plorably ig­no­rant. The mer­chant fam­ilies of Ian­ni­na are Well ed­ucat­ed; the di­alect spo­ken in that town is the purest spec­imen of col­lo­qui­al Greek.

Lan­guage.—Al­ba­ni­an is pe­cu­liar­ly in­ter­est­ing as the on­ly sur­viv­ing rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the so-​called Thra­co-​Il­lyr­ian group of lan­guages which formed the prim­itive speech of the penin­su­la. It has af­ford­ed an at­trac­tive study to philol­ogists, amongst whom may be men­tioned Malte-​Brun, Leake, Xy­lan­der, Hahn, Mik­losich and G. Mey­er. The anal­ysis of the lan­guage presents great dif­fi­cul­ties, as, ow­ing to the ab­sence of lit­er­ary mon­uments, no cer­tain­ty can be ar­rived at With re­gard to its ear­li­er forms and lat­er de­vel­op­ment. The ground­work, so far as it can be as­cer­tained, and the gram­mar are In­do-​Eu­ro­pean, but a large num­ber of words have been bor­rowed from the Latin or Ital­ian and Greek, and it is not al­ways easy to de­cide Whether the mu­ti­lat­ed and cur­tailed forms now in use rep­re­sent adopt­ed words or be­long to the orig­inal vo­cab­ulary. There is al­so a con­sid­er­able ad­mix­ture of Turk­ish and Slavon­ic words. Notwith­stand­ing cer­tain points of re­sem­blance in struc­ture and pho­net­ics, Al­ba­ni­an is en­tire­ly dis­tinct from the neigh­bour­ing lan­guages; in its re­la­tion to ear­ly Latin and Greek it may bc re­gard­ed as a co-​or­di­nate mem­ber of the Aryan stock. It pos­sess­es sev­en vow­els; among the con­so­nants are the as­pi­rat­ed d and t, as in Greek, and many oth­er sounds, such as b, d, sh, zh (French.j), and hard g, which are want­ing in Greek, but ex­ist in the Slavon­ic lan­guages. There are three de­clen­sions, each with a def­inite and in­def­inite form; the gen­itive, da­tive and ab­la­tive are usu­al­ly rep­re­sent­ed by a sin­gle ter­mi­na­tion; the voca­tive is formed by a fi­nal o, as mem­mo from memme, “moth­er.” The neuter gen­der is ab­sent. There are two con­ju­ga­tions; the pas­sive for­ma­tion, now Want­ing in most In­do-​Eu­ro­pean lan­guages, has been re­tained, as in Greek; thus kerko-​iy, “I seek,” forms kerko-​n-​em, “I am sought.” The,in­fini­tive is not found; as in Greek, Ru­ma­ni­an and Bul­gar­ian, it is re­placed by the sub­junc­tive with a par­ti­cle. The two aux­il­iary verbs are kam, “I have,” and yam, “I am.” An in­ter­est­ing and char­ac­ter­is­tic fea­ture of the lan­guage is the def­inite ar­ti­cle, which is at­tached to the end of the word: e.g. mik (“friend,” am­icus), mik-​u (“the friend”); kien (“dog”), kien-​i Shkumb, Shkumb-​i. The suf­fix-​ar­ti­cle like­wise ap­pears in Ru­ma­ni­an and Bul­gar­ian, but in no oth­er Latin or Slavo­bic lan­guage; it is in each case a form of the demon­stra­tive pro­noun. An­oth­er re­mark­able anal­ogy be­tween the Al­ba­ni­an and the neigh­bour­ing lan­guages is found in the for­ma­tion of the fu­ture; the Al­ba­ni­an do (3rd pers. sing. of do­va, “I will”), like the Greek tha, is pre­fixed with­out change to all per­sons of the verb: a sim­ilar us­age in Ser­vian and Bul­gar­ian, as well as in Ru­ma­ni­an (es­pe­cial­ly the Mace­do­nian di­alect), is pe­cu­liar to these lan­guages in the Slavon­ic and Latin groups. These and oth­er points of sim­ilar­ity, pos­si­bly on­ly ac­ci­den­tal, have led to the con­jec­ture that the prim­itive Il­lyr­ian lan­guage may have ex­ert­ed some kind of in­flu­ence on the oth­er id­ioms of the penin­su­la. In the ab­sence of lit­er­ary cul­ture the Al­ba­ni­an di­alects, as might be ex­pect­ed, are wide­ly di­ver­gent; the lim­its of the two prin­ci­pal di­alects cor­re­spond with the racial bound­aries of the Ghegs and Tosks, who un­der­stand each oth­er with dil­fi­cul­ty; the Al­ba­ni­ans in Greece and Italy have al­so sep­arate di­alects. In writ­ing Al­ba­ni­an the Latin char­ac­ter is em­ployed by the Ghegs, the Greek by the Tosks; nei­ther al­pha­bet su­fi­ices to rep­re­sent the man­ifold sounds of the lan­guage, and var­ious sup­ple­men­tary let­ters or dis­tin­guish­ing signs are nec­es­sary. In the use of these no uni­form sys­tem has yet been adopt­ed. An al­pha­bet of fifty-​two let­ters, some pre­sent­ing an­cient Phoeni­cian and Cre­tan forms, was found by Hahn in par­tial use at El­bas­san and Tirana; its an­tiq­ui­ty, how­ev­er, has not been es­tab­lished. The Tosks gen­er­al­ly use the Greek lan­guage for writ­ten com­mu­ni­ca­tions. The na­tive folk­lore and po­et­ry of the Al­ba­ni­ans can hard­ly com­pare with that of the neigh­bour­ing na­tions in orig­inal­ity and beau­ty. The ear­li­est print­ed works in Al­ba­ni­an are those of the Catholic mis­sion­ar­ies; the first book con­tain­ing spec­imens of the lan­guage was the Dic­tio­nar­ium Lati­no-​Epirolicum of Bianchi, print­ed in 1635. The lit­er­ature of the last two cen­turies con­sists main­ly of trans­la­tions and re­li­gious works writ­ten by ec­cle­si­as­tics, some of whom were na­tives of the Al­ba­ni­an colonies in Italy. The most note­wor­thy Al­ba­ni­an writ­er was Giro­lamo di Ra­da (b. 1815), a po­et, philol­ogist and col­lec­tor of na­tion­al folk­lore. Among his suc­ces­sors may be men­tioned Vin­cen­zo Dor­sa and Demetrio Ca­mar­da.

An­tiq­ui­ties.—Al­ba­nia abounds in an­cient re­mains, which as yet have been lit­tle ex­plored. Frag­ments of “Cy­clo­pean” struc­tures were dis­cov­ered by Hahn at Kret­zu­nista, Arin­ista, and oth­er sites in the dis­trict of Ar­gy­rokas­tro; the walls, part­ly “Cy­clo­pean,” of an an­cient city (per­haps Bullis) are Vis­ible at Gradisti on the Vios­sa. Ma­son­ry of this type, how­ev­er, oc­cur­ring in Il­lyr­ia and Dal­ma­tia (e.g. at Soala­to and on the is­land of Lesina) has been shown by mod­ern ar­chae­ol­ogists to be­long to the Ro­man pe­ri­od. In gen­er­al, the re­mains of the clas­si­cal epoch at­test the in­flu­ence of Ro­man rather than of Greek civ­iliza­tion. At Pol­li­na, the an­cient Apol­lo­nia, are the rem­nants of a Doric tem­ple, of which a sin­gle col­umn is still stand­ing. A lit­tle north of Pre­veza are the con­sid­er­able ru­ins of Nikopohs, found­ed by Oc­ta­vian to com­mem­orate the vic­to­ry of Ac­tium. At Khi­mara (anc. Chi­maera) the re­mains of an old Greek city may still be seen; at San­ti Quar­an­ta (anc. Cnch­es­mos) the walls and tow­ers of a lat­er town are in good preser­va­tion. Few traces re­main of the once cel­ebrat­ed Dyrrhachi­um. The ru­ins of Pan­dosia, Ephyra, Elatea, Phoenike, Bathro­tum, Akrolis­sos and oth­er towns may be iden­ti­fied. The most im­por­tant and in­ter­est­ing re­mains, how­ev­er, are those of Dodona (q.v..) Of the me­dieval ru­ins those of Kroia, the stronghold of Scan­der­beg, are the most in­ter­est­ing.

Me­dieval His­to­ry.—Af­ter the di­vi­sion of the Ro­man em­pire, the lands in­hab­it­ed by the Al­ba­ni­an race be­came provinces of the Byzan­tine em­pire; north­ern Al­ba­nia from Scu­tari to Be­rat formed the the­ma or province of Dyrrachi­um (Du­raz­zo, Al­ba­ni­an Dourtz), south­ern Al­ba­nia and Epirus the the­ma of Nikopo­lis. The coun­try was over­run by the Goths in the 4th and 5th cen­turies, but re­con­quered by Jus­tini­an in 535. In 640 north­ern Al­ba­nia was in­vad­ed by the Ser­bo-​Croats; it con­tin­ued with in­ter­rup­tions un­der Ser­vian rule till 1360. In 861 the Bul­gar­ians con­quered the south­ern por­tion of the coun­try and Epirus as far as Khi­mara; un­der their pow­er­ful tsar Sime­on (893-927), who de­feat­ed the Ser­vians, they es­tab­lished their rule on the Adri­at­ic lit­toral, ex­cept at Du­raz­zo, which re­mained Ilyzan­tine, and col­onized these re­gions in great num­bers. A new Bul­gar­ian dy­nasty, that of Shish­man, was found­ed at Ochri­da af­ter the death of Sime­on. Shish­man’s son Samuel (976-1014) cap­tured Du­raz­zo; he ex­tend­ed his sway over a great part of the Balkan Penin­su­la, but was even­tu­al­ly de­feat­ed in 1014 by the em­per­or Basil II., who put out the eyes of 15,000 Bul­gar­ian pris­on­ers. South­ern Al­ba­nia and Epirus fell once more un­der Byzan­tine rule, which, how­ev­er, was shak­en by nu­mer­ous re­volts. In 1081 the Nor­mans un­der Robert Guis­card pos­sessed them­selves of Du­raz­zo; Guis­card,s son Bo­he­mu­nd de­feat­ed the Greeks in sev­er­al bat­tles and again (1107) laid siege to Du­raz­zo, which had been sur­ren­dered to them by treach­ery; fail­ing to take the city, he re­tired to Italy in 1109. South­ern Al­ba­nia and Epirus re­mained un­der Byzan­tine dom­ina­tion till 1204, when, af­ter the cap­ture of Con­stantino­ple by the cru­saders, Michael Com­nenus, a mem­ber of the im­pe­ri­al fam­ily, with­drew to Epirus and found­ed an in­de­pen­dent sovereign­ty known as the Despotate of Epirus at Ian­ni­na; his realm in­clud­ed the whole of south­ern Al­ba­nia, Acar­na­nia and Ae­to­lia. The despotate of Epirus was held by the Com­nenus fam­ily till 1318, and by princes of the house of Orsi­ni till 1358. Mean­while Du­raz­zo, with Be­rat and Cen­tral Al­ba­nia, had passed in­to the hands of the Si­cil­ian kings of the house of An­jou, who ruled these re­gions, which they styled the “King­dom of Al­ba­nia,” from 1271 to 1368, main­tain­ing a con­stant war­fare with the Byzan­tine em­per­ors. The Ser­vians again in­stalled them­selves in Up­per Al­ba­nia about 1180, and the provinces of Scu­tari and Prizren were ruled by kings of the house of Ne­manya till 1360; Ste­fan Dushan (1331-1358), the great­est of these monar­chs, in­clud­ed all Al­ba­nia in his ex­ten­sive but short-​lived em­pire, and took the ti­tle of 1mper­otor Ro­ma­ni­ae Slavo­ni­ae et Al­ba­ni­ae (em­per­or of the Greeks, Slavs and Al­ba­ni­ans).

Pe­ri­od of Na­tive Rule.—Af­ter the death of Dushan and the break-​up of the Ser­vian em­pire, a new epoch be­gan when Al­ba­nia fell un­der the rule of chief­tains more or less of na­tive ori­gin. A por­tion of Up­per Al­ba­nia was ruled by the Bal­sha dy­nasty (1366-1421), which, though ap­par­ent­ly Ser­vian by de­scent, as­sim­ilat­ed it­self with its Al­ba­ni­an sub­jects and em­braced the faith of Pome. Alessio and a tract of the in­te­ri­or in the di­rec­tion of Ipek was gov­erned by the Duka­jin. The north­ern por­tion of the “king­dom of Al­ba­nia,” in­clud­ing Du­raz­zo and Kroia, was ruled by the fam­ily of Thopia (1359-1392) and af­ter­wards by that of Las­tri­ota, to which Scan­der­beg be­longed; the south­ern por­tion with Be­rat, by the Musa­ki (1368–1476). In the mid­dle of the 14th cen­tu­ry a great mi­gra­tion of Al­ba­ni­ans from the moun­tain­ous dis­tricts of the north took place, un­der the chiefs Jin Bua Spa­ta and Pe­ter Liosha; they ad­vanced south­wards as far as Acar­na­nia and Ae­to­lia (1358), oc­cu­pied the greater por­tion of the despotate of Epirus, and took Ian­ni­na and Ar­ta. In the lat­ter half of the cen­tu­ry large colonies of Tosks were plant­ed in the Morea by the despots of Mis­tra, and in At­ti­ca and Boeo­tia by Luke Ne­rio of Athens. As the pow­er of the Bal­shas de­clined, the Vene­tians to­wards the close of the 14th cen­tu­ry es­tab­lished them­selves at Scu­tari, Bud­ua, An­ti­vari and else­where in north­ern Al­ba­nia.

Pe­ri­od of Turk­ish Rule.—The ad­vance of the Turks in­to Al­ba­nia be­gan with the cap­ture of Ian­ni­na in 1431. For once in the his­to­ry of the coun­try the Al­ba­ni­an chiefs com­bined against the in­vad­er un­der a sin­gle lead­er, the cel­ebrat­ed Georce Eas­tri­ota (see SCAN­DER­BEG), who fought thir­teen cam­paigns in the pe­ri­od 1444–1466. In 1478 Kroia, which the Vene­tians had oc­cu­pied af­ter Scan­der­beg’s death, sur­ren­dered to Ma­hommed II., and in 1479 Scu­tari, af­ter a mem­orable de­fence by the Vene­tians and their Mon­tene­grin al­lies, was re­duced by block­ade. Nany of its na­tive Chris­tian de­fend­ers em­igrat­ed to Dall­ra­tia and Italy; oth­ers took refuge in the moun­tains with the Loiran Catholic Ghegs. In 1502 the Turks cap­tured Du­raz­zo, and in 1571 An­ti­vari and Dul­cig­no, the last Vene­tian pos­ses­sions in Al­ba­nia. Notwith­stand­ing the aban­don­ment of Chris­tian­ity by a large sec­tion of the pop­ula­tion af­ter the Turk­ish con­quest, the au­thor­ity of the sul­tans was nev­er ef­fec­tive­ly es­tab­lished, and suc­ceed­ing cen­turies present a record of in­ter­minable con­flicts be­tween the tribes­men and the Turks, be­tween the Chris­tians and the con­verts to Is­lam, or be­tween all com­bined and the tra­di­tion­al Mon­tene­grin en­emy. The de­cline of the Ot­toman pow­er, which be­gan to­wards the end of the 17th cen­tu­ry, was marked by in­creas­ing an­ar­chy and law­less­ness in the out­ly­ing por­tions of the em­pire. About 1760 a Moslem chief­tain, Mehemet of Bushat, af­ter ob­tain­ing the pasha­lik of Scu­tari from the Porte, suc­ceed­ed in es­tab­lish­ing an al­most in­de­pen­dent sovereign­ty in Up­per Al­ba­nia, which re­mained hered­itary in his fam­ily for some gen­er­ations. In south­ern Al­ba­nia Ali Pasha of Te­pe­len (b. about 1750), an able, cru­el and un­scrupu­lous man, sub­dued the neigh­bour­ing pashas and chiefs, crushed the Suliotes and Khi­mar­rliotes, and ex­er­cised a prac­ti­cal­ly in­de­pen­dent sovereign­ty from the Adri­at­ic to the Aegean. He in­tro­duced com­par­ative civ­iliza­tion at Ian­ni­na, his cap­ital, and main­tained di­rect re­la­tions with for­eign pow­ers. Even­tu­al­ly he re­nounced his al­le­giance to the sul­tan, but was over­thrown by a Turk­ish army in 1822. Short­ly af­ter­wards the dy­nasty of Scu­tari came to an end with the sur­ren­der of Mustafa Pasha, the last of the house of Bushat, to the grand vizier Reshid Pasha, in 1831.

The op­po­si­tion of the Al­ba­ni­ans, Chris­tian as well as Moslem, to the re­forms in­tro­duced by the sul­tan Mah­mud II. led to the dev­as­ta­tion of the coun­try and the ex­pa­tri­ation of thou­sands of its in­hab­itants. Dur­ing the next half-​cen­tu­ry sev­er­al lo­cal re­volts oc­curred, but no move­ment of a strict­ly po­lit­ical char­ac­ter took place till af­ter the Berlin Treaty (Ju­ly 13, 1878), when some of the Moslems and Catholics com­bined to re­sist the stip­ulat­ed trans­fer­ence of Al­ba­ni­an ter­ri­to­ry to Aus­tria-​Hun­gary, Servia and Mon­tene­gro) and the Al­bani­ian League Was formed by an as­sem­blage of chiefs at Prizren. The move­ment, which was in­sti­gat­ed by the Porte with the ob­ject of evad­ing the pro­vi­sions of the treaty, Was so far suc­cess­ful that the restora­tion of Pla­va and Gusinye to Al­ba­nia was sanc­tioned by the pow­ers, Mon­tene­gro re­ceiv­ing in ex­change the town and dis­trict of Dul­cig­no. The Al­ba­ni­an lead­ers, how­ev­er, soon dis­played a spir­it of in­de­pen­dence, which proved em­bar­rass­ing to Turk­ish diplo­ma­cyand caused alarm at Con­stantino­ple; their forces came in­to con­flict with a Turk­ish army un­der Dervish Pasha near Dul­cig­no (Novem­ber 1880), and even­tu­al­ly the league was sup­pressed. A sim­ilar ag­ita­tion on a small­er scale was or­ga­nized in south­ern Al­ba­nia to 1es­ist the ter­ri­to­ri­al con­ces­sions award­ed by the pow­ers to Greece. In the spring of 1903 se­ri­ous dis­tur­bances took place in north-​west­ern Al­ba­nia, but the Turks suc­ceed­ed in paci­fy­ing the re­volt­ed tribes­men, part­ly by force and part­ly by con­ces­sions. These move­ments were far from dis­play­ing a gen­uine­ly na­tion­al char­ac­ter. In re­cent years at­tempts have been made by Al­ba­ni­ans res­ident abroad to prop­agate the na­tion­al idea among their com­pa­tri­ots at home; com­mit­tees have been formed at Brus­sels, Bucharest, Athens and else­where, and books, pam­phlets and news­pa­pers are sur­rep­ti­tious­ly sent in­to the coun­try. Uni­ty of aim and ef­fort, how­ev­er, seems for­eign to the Al­ba­ni­ans, ex­cept in de­fence of lo­cal or trib­al priv­ileges. The growth of a wider pa­tri­ot­ic sen­ti­ment must de­pend on the spread of pop­ular ed­uca­tion; cer­tain­ly up to 1908 no ap­pre­cia­ble progress had been made in this di­rec­tion.

AU­THOR­ITIES.—F. C. H. Pouqueville, Voy­age de la Grece (Paris, 1820); W. M. Leake, Trav­els in North­ern Greece (Lon­don, 1835); J. G. von Hahn, Al­bane­sis­che Stu­di­en (Je­na, 1854), Reise durch die Ge­bi­ete des Drin und Var­dar (Vi­en­na, 1867); F. Bopp, Uber dos Al­bane­sis­che (Berlin, 1854); J. P. Fallmer­ay­er, Das al­bane­sis­che El­ement in Griechen­land (Mu­nich, 1864); N. Ca­mar­da, Sag­gio di gram­ma­tolo­gia com­para­ta sul­la lin­gua al­banese (Leghorn, 1865); Vis­count­ess Strang­ford, The East­ern Shores of the Adri­at­ic (Lon­don, 1865); H. F. Toz­er, Re­search­es in the High­lands of Turkey (Lon­don, 1869); F. Mik­losich, Al­banes. Forschun­gen (Vi­en­na, 1870); C. Hopf, Chroniques gre­co-​ro­maines inedites ou peu con­nues (Berlin, 1873); H. Hec­quard, His­toire et de­scrip­tion de la Haute Al­ban­ie ou Gue­garie (Paris, un­dat­ed); S. Gopchevich, Ober­al­ban­ien und seine Liga (Leipzig, 1881); V’. Ta­jani, Le Is­to­ria Al­bane­si (Saler­no, 1886); G. Gelchich, La Zed­da e la di­nas­tia dei Bal­shi (Spala­to, 1899); S. Lam­bros, `E ono­ma­tolo­gia tes ‘At­tikes kai h eis ten choran epike­sis ton .Al­banon in the ‘Epeteris tou Par­nas­sou (Athens, 1896); Theodore Ip­pen “Beitrige zur in­neren Geschichte der Turkei im 19. Jahrhun­dert speciell Al­ban­iens,” in the Os­ter­re­ichisch-​Un­garische Re­vue, vol. xxvi­ii.; A. Philipp­son, Thes­salia und Epirus (Berlin, 1897). See al­so Mur­ray’s Greece, ed. 1900, pp. 720-731 and 760-814, and Blue-​book Turkey, No. 15, Part ii., 1886. (J. D. B.)

AL­BANUS LA­CUS (mod. La­go di Al­bano), a lake about 12 m. S.E. of Rome. It is gen­er­al­ly con­sid­ered to have been formed by a vol­canic ex­plo­sion at the mar­gin of the great crater of the Al­banus Mons; it has the shape of a crater, the banks cf Which are over 400 ft. in height from the wa­ter-​lev­el, while the wa­ter is as much as 560 ft. deep in the S. por­tion. It is fed by sub­ter­rai­iean springs. Ac­cord­ing to the leg­end, the emis­sar­ium (out­let) which still drains it was made in 398-397 B.C., the Del­ph­ic or­acle hav­ing de­clared that Veri could onlybe tak­en when the wa­ters of the lake reached the sea. It is over a mile in length, hewn in the rock, and about 6 ft. high and 4 ft. broad; it has ver­ti­cal shafts at in­ter­vals, and a sluice cham­ber at its egress from the lake. In the time of Domi­tian the whole lake be­longed to the im­pe­ri­al do­main. (SEEAL­BA­LON­GA.)

AL­BANUS MONS (mod. Monte Ca­vo, from an ear­ly city of the name of Cabum? 1), the high­est point of the vol­canic Al­ban hills, about 13 m. S.E. of Rome, 3115 ft. above sea-​lev­el. It is up­on the line of the rim of the in­ner crater of the great vol­cano, While Tus­cu­lum and Al­gidus Mons mark the edge of the ear­li­er out­er crater, which was about 7 m. wide. The lakes of Al­bano and Ne­mi were prob­ably formed by vol­canic ex­plo­sions at the mar­gin of the great crater; though a view has al­so been ex­pressed that the basins are the re­sult of sub­si­dence. The name Al­banus Mons is al­so used gen­er­al­ly of the Al­ban group of hills in which there seem to have been some re­mains of vol­canic ac­tiv­ity in ear­ly Ro­man times, which cov­ered the ear­ly necrop­olis of Al­ba Lon­ga, and oc­ca­sion­al­ly pro­duced show­ers of stones, e.g. in the time of Tul­lus Hos­til­ius (Liv. i. 31), and per­haps much lat­er. In 193 B.C. it is record­ed (ib. xxxv. 9) that such a snow­er oc­curred at Ari­cia, Lanu­vi­um and on the Aven­tine. Up­on the Mons Al­banus stood the tem­ple of Jupiter La­tiaris, where the an­nu­al fes­ti­val of the Latin League was held. The foun­da­tions and some of the ar­chi­tec­tural frag­ments of the tem­ple were still in ex­is­tence un­til 1777, when they were used to build the Pas­sion­ist monastery by Car­di­nal York. The road which as­cend­ed to the tem­ple from the rim of the lake is still well pre­served.

1 See Th. Momm­sen in Bul­letino dell’ Is­ti­tu­to (1861), 206; Cor­pus In­scrip. Lat. (Berlin, 1887), xiv. 2228,

AL­BANY, DUKES OF. The ter­ri­to­ri­al des­ig­na­tion of Al­bany was for­mer­ly giv­en to those parts of Scot­land to the north of the firths of Clyde and Forth. The ti­tle of duke of Al­bany was first be­stowed in 1398 by King Robert III. on his broth­er, Robert Stew­art, ead of Fife (see I. be­low); but in 1425 it be­came ex­tinct. The duke­dom was re-​cre­at­ed, r. 1458, in favour of Alexan­der Stew­art, “lord of An­nan­dale and earl of March’, (see II. be­low), whose son and suc­ces­sor (see III. be­low) left no le­git­imate heir. The ti­tle of duke of Al­bany was next be­stowed up­on Hen­ry Stu­art, com­mon­ly known as Lord Darn­ley, by Mary, queen of Scots, in 1565. From him the ti­tle passed to his son, James VI. of Scot­land and I. of Eng­land. The ti­tle was by him giv­en, at his birth, to Charles, his sec­ond son, af­ter­wards King Charles I. By Charles II. it was again be­stowed, in 1660, on James, duke ot York, af­ter­wards King James II. On the 5th of Ju­ly 1716 Ernest Au­gus­tus, bish­op of Os­naburgh [Os­nabruck] (1715-1728), youngest broth­er of King George I., was cre­at­ed duke of York and Al­bany, the ti­tle be­com­ing ex­tinct on his death with­out heirs in 1728. On the 1st of April 1760 Prince Ed­ward Au­gus­tus, younger broth­er of King George III., was cre­at­ed duke of York and Al­bany; he died with­out heirs on the 17th of Septem­ber 1767. On the 29th of Novem­ber 1784 the ti­tle of duke of York and Al­bany was again cre­at­ed in favour of Fred­er­ick, sec­ond son of George III., who died with­out heirs on the 5th of Jan­uary 1827. The ti­tle of duke of Al­bany was be­stowed on the 24th of May 1881 on Prince Leopold, youngest son of Queen Vic­to­ria (see IV. be­low).

I. ROBERT STEW­ART, duke of Al­bany (c. 1345-1420), re­gent of Scot­land, was a son of King Robert II. by his mis­tress, Eliz­abeth Mure, and was le­git­ima­tized when his par­ents were mar­ried about 1349. In 1361 he mar­ried Mar­garet, count­ess of Mentei­th, and af­ter his wid­owed sis­ter-​in-​law, Is­abel, count­ess of Fife, had rec­og­nized him as her heir, he was known as the earl of Fife and Mentei­th. Tak­ing an ac­tive part in the gov­ern­ment of the king­dom, the earl was made high cham­ber­lain of Scot­land in 1382, and gained mil­itary rep­uta­tion by lead­ing sev­er­al plun­der­ing ex­pe­di­tions in­to Eng­land. In 1389 af­ter his el­der broth­er John, earl of Car­rick, had been in­ca­pac­itat­ed by an ac­ci­dent, and when his fa­ther the king was old and in­firm, he was cho­sen gov­er­nor of Scot­land by the es­tates; and he re­tained the con­trol of af­fairs af­ter his broth­er John be­came king as Robert III. in 1390. In April 1308 he was cre­at­ed duke of Al­bany; but in the fol­low­ing year his nephew David, duke of Rothe­say, the heir to the crown, suc­ceed­ed him as gov­er­nor, al­though the duke him­self was a promi­nent mem­ber of the ad­vis­ing coun­cil. Un­cle and nephew soon dif­fered, and in March 1402 the lat­ter died in prison at Falk­land. It is not cer­tain that Al­bany was re­spon­si­ble for the im­pris­on­ment and death of Rothe­say, whom the par­lia­ment de­clared to have died from nat­ural caus­es; but the scanty ev­idence points in the di­rec­tion of his guilt. Re­stored to the of­fice of gov­er­nor, the duke was cho­sen re­gent of the king­dom af­ter the death of Robert III. in 1406, as the new king, James I., was a pris­on­er in Lon­don; and he took vig­or­ous steps to pros­ecute the war with Eng­land, which had been re­newed a few years be­fore. He was un­able, or as some say un­will­ing, to ef­fect the re­lease of his roy­al nephew, and was soon faced by a formidable re­volt led by Don­ald Mac­don­ald, sec­ond lord of the Isles, who claimed the earl­dom of Ross and was in al­liance with Hen­ry IV. of Eng­land; but the de­feat of Don­ald at Har­law near Ab­erdeen in Ju­ly 1411 freed him from this dan­ger. Con­tin­uing al­ter­nate­ly to fight and to ne­go­ti­ate with Eng­land, the duke died at Stir­ling Cas­tle in Septem­ber 1420, and was buried in Dun­fermline Abbey. Al­bany, who was the ablest prince of his house, left by his first wife one son, Mur­dac (or Mur­doch) Stew­art, who suc­ceed­ed him as duke of Al­bany and re­gent, but at whose ex­ecu­tion in 1425 the duke­dom be­came ex­tinct.

See An­drew of Wyn­toun, The Oryg­ynale Cronyk­il of Scot­land, edit­ed by D. Laing (Ed­in­burgh, 1872-1879); John of For­dun, Scotichron­icon, con­tin­ued by Wal­ter Bow­er, edit­ed by T. Hearne (Ox­ford, 1722); and P. F. Tytler, His­to­ry of Scot­land (Ed­in­burgh, 1850). See al­so Sir W. Scott’s Fair Maid of Perth.

II. ALEXAN­DER STEW­ART, duke of Al­bany (c. 1454-1485), was the sec­ond son of James II., king of Scot­land, by his wife, Mary, daugh­ter of Arnold, duke of Gelder­land. Cre­at­ed duke of Al­bany be­fore 1458, he al­so re­ceived the lord­ship of the Isle of Man, and was af­ter­wards cap­tured by an En­glish ship when jour­ney­ing to Gelder­land in 1468. He was soon re­leased, and as he grew to man­hood be­gan to take part in the gov­ern­ment and de­fence of Scot­land, be­ing ap­point­ed in quick suc­ces­sion high ad­mi­ral, war­den of the march­es, gov­er­nor of Berwick and lieu­tenant of the king­dom. Soon, how­ev­er, he quar­relled with his broth­er, King James III. Some of his ac­tions on the march­es aroused sus­pi­cion, and in 1479 he was seized and im­pris­oned in Ed­in­burgh Cas­tle; but he soon made his es­cape, and reach­ing Paris in Septem­ber 1479 was wel­comed by King Louis XI. Louis, how­ev­er, would not as­sist him to at­tack his broth­er the king, and cross­ing to Eng­land he made a treaty with King Ed­ward IV. at Fother­ing­hay in June 1482. Like Ed­ward Bali­ol, he promised to hold Scot­land un­der En­glish suzerain­ty in re­turn for Ed­ward’s as­sis­tance, and with Richard, duke of Glouces­ter, af­ter­wards King Richard III., he marched at the head of the En­glish forces to Ed­in­burgh. Mean­while his sup­port­ers in Scot­land had seized James, and pro­fessed their readi­ness to rec­og­nize Al­bany, declar­ing at the same time their dis­trust of Glouces­ter. A com­pro­mise, how­ev­er, was ar­ranged, and the restora­tion of his lands and of­fices was promised to Al­bany, who in turn agreed to be faith­ful to James; but about the same time the duke with re­mark­able du­plic­ity had sworn he would keep the treaty with Ed­ward. Again he was ap­point­ed lieu­tenant of the king­dom, a truce was made with the En­glish, and James, re­leased from cus­tody, re­stored his broth­er and cre­at­ed him earl of Mar and Gar­ioch. The fra­ter­nal peace was soon dis­turbed. Fail­ing to ob­tain pos­ses­sion of the king’s per­son, Al­bany re­newed ne­go­ti­ations with Ed­ward, and in Febru­ary 1483 made a new treaty at West­min­ster on the lines of that of Fother­ing­hay. A fresh rec­on­cil­ia­tion fol­lowed be­tween the broth­ers, but in Ju­ly 1483, dur­ing Al­bany’s ab­sence in Eng­land, he was sen­tenced to death for trea­son. Af­ter mak­ing a raid on Lochmaben he went to France, where in 1485 he was ac­ci­den­tal­ly killed. Al­bany’s first wife was Cather­ine, daugh­ter of William, third earl of Orkney and first earl of Caith­ness, who bore him three sons and a daugh­ter. This mar­riage was dis­solved in 1478, and as its is­sue was re­gard­ed as il­le­git­imate the ti­tle of duke of Al­bany de­scend­ed to John (see be­low), his on­ly son by his sec­ond wife, Anne de la Tour d’Au­vergne. daugh­ter of Bertrand II., count of Au­vergne and of Bouil­lon, whom he mar­ried in 1480.

III. JOHN STEW­ART, duke of Al­bany (c. 1481-1536), re­gent Of Scot­land, was born about 1481. He was brought up in France, where he owned large es­tates, and held the of­fice of ad­mi­ral of France. In 1515, at the re­quest of the Scot­tish par­lia­ment, and in spite of Hen­ry VI­II.’s ef­forts to pre­vent him, Al­bany came to Scot­land, was in­au­gu­rat­ed re­gent in Ju­ly, and pro­ceed­ed to or­ga­nize re­sis­tance to the in­flu­ence of Eng­land and of Mar­garet Tu­dor, the queen dowa­ger, sis­ter of Hen­ry VI­II. In Au­gust he seized the lat­ter and her chil­dren at Stir­ling, and sub­se­quent­ly was oc­cu­pied in sup­press­ing the re­bel­lion of the Homes, An­gus (the sec­ond hus­band of Mar­garet), and James Hamil­ton, earl of Ar­ran; Alexan­der, third Lord Home, be­ing be­head­ed in Oc­to­ber 1516. Al­bany was de­clared on the 12th of Novem­ber heir to the throne, and on the 6th of June 1517 he re­turned to France. In Au­gust he con­clud­ed the treaty of Rouen, by which the al­liance be­tween France and Scot­land was re­newed and a daugh­ter of Fran­cis I. was to mar­ry James V., and next year he ob­tained the re­lax­ation of cer­tain dues on Scot­tish im­ports in­to France. Mean­while Mar­garet had re­turned im­me­di­ate­ly on Al­bany’s de­par­ture, and dis­or­ders had bro­ken out ow­ing to the ri­val­ry be­tween An­gus and Ar­ran. Fran­cis I. had se­cret­ly en­gaged him­self to Hen­ry VI­II. not to al­low Al­bany’s de­par­ture from France, but he re­turned at the close of 1521 and im­me­di­ate­ly be­came the ob­ject of Hen­ry VI­II.’s and Wolsey’s at­tacks. He rec­on­ciled him­self tem­porar­ily with Mar­garet, sup­port­ed her di­vorce from An­gus, and was now ac­cused by the En­glish gov­ern­ment, in all prob­abil­ity un­just­ly, of hav­ing se­duced her and of har­bour­ing schemes of mar­ry­ing her him­self, to­geth­er with de­signs against the life of the young king. These ac­cu­sa­tions were re­pu­di­at­ed by the Scots, and Hen­ry’s de­mand for the re­gent’s dis­missal re­fused. War broke out in 1522, and in Septem­ber Al­bany ad­vanced to with­in four miles of Carlisle with a large army. The Scots, how­ev­er, showed un­will­ing­ness to fight out­side their own fron­tiers, and Al­bany agreed to a truce and dis­band­ed his troops. On the 25th of Oc­to­ber he de­part­ed hasti­ly to France, leav­ing the bor­ders ex­posed to the en­emy. On the 25th of Septem­ber 1523 he once more land­ed in Scot­land, bring­ing with him sup­plies from France and a con­sid­er­able body of troops, and on the 3rd of Novem­ber, af­ter an un­suc­cess­ful at­tack on Wark, re­treat­ed hasti­ly, and quit­ted Scot­land fi­nal­ly on the 20th of May 1524. On the 30th of Ju­ly his re­gen­cy was ter­mi­nat­ed by the dec­la­ra­tion of James V. as king. He ac­com­pa­nied Fran­cis I. in his dis­as­trous Ital­ian cam­paign of 1525, be­ing de­tached to make a di­ver­sion in Naples against the Span­ish. Be­tween 1530 and 1535 he act­ed as French am­bas­sador in Rome, con­duct­ed Cather­ine de’ Medi­ci, his wife’s niece, to Paris on her mar­riage to Hen­ry (af­ter­wards Hen­ry II.) in 1534, and ne­go­ti­at­ed the mar­riage of James V.

The re­gent Al­bany was a sin­gu­lar­ly un­for­tu­nate com­man­der in the field, but a suc­cess­ful ruler and ad­min­is­tra­tor, and the Scot­tish court of ses­sion owed to him its in­sti­tu­tion. But he re­gard­ed him­self more the sub­ject of the king of France than of the king of Scot­land, sub­or­di­nat­ed the in­ter­ests of the lat­ter state to the for­mer, and dis­liked his of­fi­cial du­ties in Scot­land, where the ben­efits of his ad­min­is­tra­tion were large­ly di­min­ished by his want of per­se­ver­ance and fre­quent ab­sence. He ap­pears to have been a man of hon­ourable and straight­for­ward con­duct, whose char­ac­ter must be cleared from the as­per­sions of Wolsey and the En­glish au­thor­ities. He mar­ried his cousin Anne de la Tour d’Au­vergne, but left no le­gal is­sue, and all his hon­ours be­came ex­tinct at his death.

IV. LEOPOLD GEORGE DUN­CAN AL­BERT, duke of Al­bany, eighth child and youngest son of Queen Vic­to­ria, was born on the 7th of April 1853. The del­ica­cy of his health seemed to mark him out for a life of re­tire­ment, and as he grew old­er he evinced much of the love of knowl­edge, the ca­pac­ity for study and the in­ter­est in phil­an­thropic and ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal move­ments which had char­ac­ter­ized his fa­ther, the prince con­sort. He ma­tric­ulat­ed at Christ Church, Ox­ford, in Novem­ber 1872, liv­ing with his tu­tor at Wyke­ham House, St Giles’s, and dili­gent­ly pur­sued his favourite stud­ies of sci­ence, art and the mod­ern lan­guages. In 1876 he left the uni­ver­si­ty with the hon­orary de­gree of D.C.L., and resid­ed at Boy­ton House, Wilt­shire, and af­ter­wards at Clare­mont. On com­ing of age in 1874, he had been made a privy coun­cil­lor and grant­ed an an­nu­ity of L. 15,000. He trav­elled on the con­ti­nent, and in 1880 vis­it­ed the Unit­ed States and Cana­da. He was a trustee of the British Mu­se­um, a bencher of Lin­coln’s Inn, and con­tin­ued to take an ac­tive part in the pro­mo­tion of ed­uca­tion and knowl­edge gen­er­al­ly. Like his fa­ther and oth­er mem­bers of his fam­ily he was an ex­cel­lent pub­lic speak­er. On the 24th of May 1881 he was cre­at­ed duke of Al­bany, earl of Clarence and Baron Ark­low. On the 27th of April 1882 he mar­ried He­lene Fred­er­ica Au­gus­ta, princess of Waldeck-​Pyr­mont, and his in­come was raised by par­lia­ment to L. 25,000. Hav­ing gone to the south of France for his health in the spring of 1884, he was at­tacked by a fit, the cause or the con­se­quence of a fall in a club-​house at Cannes, on the 27th of March, and died very un­ex­pect­ed­ly on the fol­low­ing morn­ing. His death was uni­ver­sal­ly re­gret­ted, from the gen­tle­ness and gra­cious­ness of his char­ac­ter, and the de­sire and abil­ity he had shown to pro­mote in­tel­lec­tu­al in­ter­ests of ev­ery kind. He left a daugh­ter, born in Febru­ary 1883, and a posthu­mous son, Arthur Charles Ed­ward, born on the 19th of Ju­ly 1884, who suc­ceed­ed to the duke­dom of Al­bany, and who on the 30th of Ju­ly 1900 be­came duke of Saxe-​Coburg on the death of his un­cle.

AL­BANY, LOUISE MAX­IM­ILI­ENNE CAR­OLINE, COUNT­ESS OF (1752-1824), el­dest daugh­ter of Prince Gus­tavus Adol­phus of Stol­berg-​Ged­ern, was born at Mons on the 20th of Septem­ber 1752. In her youth she was a canoness of Ste. Wan­dru at Mons, but in her twen­ti­eth year she was af­fi­anced, at the in­sti­ga­tion of the duke of Berwick and with the se­cret con­nivance of the French Court, to Prince Charles Ed­ward Stu­art, “the Young Pre­tender,” self-​styled count of Al­bany. She was wed­ded to the prince at Mac­er­ata, near An­cona, on Good Fri­day 1774, and the mar­ried pair for over two years resid­ed in the old Stu­art palace at Rome. Pret­ty, in­tel­li­gent, charm­ing and wit­ty, Louise fas­ci­nat­ed Ro­man so­ci­ety, where­in she gained the nick­name of “Queen of Hearts.” The union, how­ev­er, which was ob­vi­ous­ly in­tend­ed to give an heir to the Stu­art prince, proved child­less, and Louise’s mar­ried life be­came far from hap­py. In 1774 the pair moved to Flo­rence, where in De­cem­ber 1780 Louise, ter­ri­fied at her hus­band’s vi­olence and fear­ing for the safe­ty of her life, fled to a neigh­bour­ing con­vent and threw her­self on the pro­tec­tion of her broth­er-​in-​law, Hen­ry Stu­art, Car­di­nal York, who in­vit­ed her to Rome. Louise had al­ready in Flo­rence formed the ac­quain­tance of the great Ital­ian trag­ic po­et, Vit­to­rio Al­fieri, who had been cap­ti­vat­ed by her en­gag­ing man­ners, her youth­ful beau­ty and her lit­er­ary pow­ers. The po­et now fol­lowed her to Rome, but the friend­ship be­tween Al­fieri and his sis­ter-​in-​law does not seem to have aroused any sus­pi­cion in the mind of Car­di­nal York un­til 1783, when, af­ter a vis­it to his broth­er in Flo­rence, he sud­den­ly re­quest­ed Pope Pius VI. to ban­ish Al­fieri from pa­pal ter­ri­to­ry. In 1784, how­ev­er, a le­gal sep­ara­tion be­tween the count and count­ess of Al­bany was ar­ranged, and by Charles’s death in 1788 Louise found her­self freed from mat­ri­mo­ni­al bonds. In com­pa­ny with Al­fieri (to whom ru­mour said she had been se­cret­ly mar­ried) she now vis­it­ed Paris and Lon­don, and was cor­dial­ly re­ceived at the En­glish court, George III. grant­ing her an an­nu­al pen­sion of L. 1600 from the privy purse. Re­turn­ing to Italy, Al­fieri and the count­ess set­tled at Flo­rence, where the po­et died on the 9th of Oc­to­ber 1803, and was buried in the church of San­ta Croce be­neath Cano­va’s vast mon­ument erect­ed at Louise’s ex­pense. The count­ess con­tin­ued to re­side in the house on the Lung’ Arno at Flo­rence, pa­tro­nis­ing men of sci­ence and let­ters and hold­ing night­ly re­cep­tions, at which all vis­itors were ex­pect­ed to treat their host­ess with the eti­quette due to reign­ing roy­al­ty. She died on the 29th of Jan­uary 1824 and was buried in San­ta Croce, where in the south transept a mar­ble mon­ument by Gio­van­nozzi and Santarel­li com­mem­orates her. By her will the count­ess be­queathed all her prop­er­ty, in­clud­ing many his­toric ob­jects of art and doc­uments, to the com­pan­ion of her old age, the French painter, Fran­cois Xavier Fab­re, who ul­ti­mate­ly gave the greater part of his lega­cy to the mu­se­um of his na­tive town of Mont­pel­li­er. Two ex­cel­lent por­traits of the count­ess of Al­bany and of Al­fieri, paint­ed by this artist, now hang in the Uf­fizi Gallery at Flo­rence.

See Ver­non Lee, The Count­ess of Al­bany (1884); March­esa Vitelleschi, A Court in Ex­ile. (H. M. V.)

AL­BANY, a riv­er of Cana­da, form­ing part of the bound­ary be­tween the province of On­tario and the dis­trict of Kee­watin. It ris­es in Lake St Joseph in 91 deg. 25, W. and 50 deg. 55′ N., and flows E.N.E. in­to James Bay, its to­tal length be­ing over 400 m. It is nav­iga­ble for near­ly half its length, to Mar­tin’s Falls. There are four Hud­son’s Bay Com­pa­ny’s posts on its banks, in­clud­ing Fort Al­bany at its mouth. The Ogo­ki and Kenoga­mi rivers are the prin­ci­pal trib­utaries.

AL­BANY, a city and the coun­ty-​seat of Dougher­ty coun­ty, Geor­gia, U.S.A., at the mouth of the Kin­chafoona Creek, and at the head of nav­iga­tion on the Flint riv­er, about 100 m. S.S.W. of Ma­con, about 200 m. S.W. of Sa­van­nah and about 203 m. N.E. of Pen­saco­la. Pop. (1890) 4008; (1900) 4606 (2903 of ne­gro de­scent); (1910) 8190. It is served by the Cen­tral of Geor­gia, the Geor­gia North­ern, the Seaboard Air Line, the Al­bany & North­ern and the At­lantic Coast Line rail­ways, and by steam­boats con­nect­ing it with Apalachico­la at the mouth of the Apalachico­la riv­er. Its im­por­tance is large­ly due to these trans­porta­tion fa­cil­ities and to the re­sources of the sur­round­ing coun­try, which pro­duces tim­ber, lime, cot­ton, In­di­an corn, sug­ar-​cane, wheat, oats, fruit, mel­ons, hay and veg­eta­bles. Al­bany ships much cot­ton, and has a cot­ton com­press, a cot­ton mill, cot­ton-​seed oil and guano fac­to­ries, brick yards, lum­ber mills and ice fac­to­ries. It is a sum­mer and win­ter re­sort and is the home of the Geor­gia Chau­tauqua. The city owns and op­er­ates the elec­tric-​light­ing plant and arte­sian wa­ter-​works. It was set­tled in 1836, was in­cor­po­rat­ed in 1838 and re­ceived its present city char­ter in 1907.

AL­BANY, a city and the coun­ty-​seat of Al­bany coun­ty, New Yrork, U.S.A., and the cap­ital of the state. It is sit­uat­ed on the W. bank of the Hud­son riv­er, just be­low the mouth of the Mo­hawk, 145 m. N. of New York City and 165 m. W. of Boston. Pop. (1880) 90,758; (1890) 94,923; (1900) 94,151, of whom 17,718 were for­eign-​born (6612 be­ing Irish, 5903 Ger­man, 1361 En­glish and 740 Rus­sian) and 1178 were ne­groes; (1910) 100,253. Al­bany is a ter­mi­nus of the New York Cen­tral & Hud­son Riv­er, the Delaware & Hud­son and the West Shore rail­ways, and is al­so served by the Boston & Maine rail­way, by the Erie and Cham­plain canals (be­ing a ter­mi­nus of each), by steam­boat lines on the Hud­son riv­er and by sev­er­al in­ter-​ur­ban elec­tric rail­ways con­nect­ing with neigh­bour­ing cities.

Al­bany is at­trac­tive­ly sit­uat­ed on a se­ries of hills ris­ing sharply from the riv­er. The old­er por­tions of the city are rem­inis­cent of Dutch colo­nial days, and some fine spec­imens of the Dutch and lat­er colo­nial ar­chi­tec­ture are still stand­ing. Per­haps the most fa­mous of these is the Schuyler man­sion (now St Fran­cis de Sales Or­phan Asy­lum), built in 1760-1761. The Van Rens­se­laer manor-​house, built in 1765, was pulled down in 1893 and was re­con­struct­ed on the cam­pus of Wil­hams Col­lege, Williamstown, Mas­sachusetts, where it is used as a fra­ter­ni­ty club-​house. Among the pub­lic build­ings, the finest is the new State Capi­tol, one of the largest and most im­pos­ing in Amer­ica. It oc­cu­pies a com­mand­ing po­si­tion in Capi­tol Square (7.84 acres), one of the high­est points in the city. It is built of white Maine gran­ite, and cost about $25,000,000. Its di­men­sions are 300 X 400 ft. The cor­ner-​stone was laid in 1871, and the build­ing was com­plet­ed, with the ex­cep­tion of the cen­tral tow­er and dome, in 1904. The leg­is­la­ture first met in it in 1879. The orig­inal de­signs were by Thomas Fuller, who al­so de­signed the par­lia­men­tary build­ings at Ot­tawa; but the plans un­der­went many changes, Isaac Gale Per­ry, Leopold Ei­dlitz and H. H. Richard­son be­ing as­so­ci­at­ed with the work be­fore its com­ple­tion. The beau­ti­ful “west­ern stair­case” of red sand­stone (from plans by Per­ry) and the sen­ate cham­ber (de­signed by Richard­son) are oer­haps the most no­table parts of the struc­ture. The build­ing hous­es the var­ious ex­ec­utive de­part­ments, the leg­is­la­ture and the court of ap­peals. A large and hand­some build­ing of white gran­ite was be­gun in 1908 di­rect­ly op­po­site the Capi­tol to ac­com­mo­date the de­part­ment of ed­uca­tion and the mag­nif­icent state li­brary (about 450,000 vol­umes). Oth­er im­por­tant build­ings are the old state hall, a hand­some white mar­ble build­ing erect­ed in 1842; the city hall, a beau­ti­ful French Goth­ic build­ing of pink gran­ite trimmed with red sand­stone, de­signed by H. H. Richard­son; the Fed­er­al Build­ing; the State aIu­se­um of Nat­ural His­to­ry; the gal­leries of the Al­bany In­sti­tute and His­tor­ical and Art So­ci­ety, in State Street, op­po­site the Capi­tol; Har­manus Bleeck­er Hall, a the­atre since 1898; and the Ten Ey­ck and Ken­more ho­tels. Among the finest of­fice build­ings are the struc­tures of the Al­bany City Sav­ings In­sti­tu­tion, Na­tion­al Com­mer­ical Bank, Union Trust Com­pa­ny, Al­bany Trust Com­pa­ny, the Na­tion­al Sav­ings Bank, First Na­tion­al Bank, the New York State Na­tion­al Bank (1803, prob­ably the old­est build­ing in the Unit­ed States used con­tin­uous­ly for bank­ing pur­pos­es) and the Al­bany Sav­ings Bank. The Fort Or­ange Club, the Catholic Union, the Al­bany Club, the Uni­ver­si­ty Club, the City Club of Al­bany, the Coun­try Club, the Ger­man Hall As­so­ci­ation and the Adel­phi Club are the chief so­cial or­ga­ni­za­tions. The prin­ci­pal church build­ings are the Cathe­dral of the Im­mac­ulate Con­cep­tion (Ro­man Catholic), a fine spec­imen of Goth­ic ar­chi­tec­ture, built of brown­stone, with spires 210 ft. high; the cathe­dral of All Saints (Protes­tant Epis­co­pal), an En­glish Goth­ic struc­ture of pink sand­stone de­signed by R. W. Gib­son and be­gun in 1883; St Pe­ter’s Epis­co­pal Church (French Goth­ic), of Hud­son Riv­er blue­stone; Em­manuel Bap­tist Church, of white gran­ite; the Madi­son Av­enue Re­formed Church; and St Joseph’s (Ro­man Catholic), of blue­stone and Caen stone with mar­ble trim­mings. Among the ed­uca­tion­al in­sti­tu­tions are the Al­bany Med­ical Col­lege (1839) and the Al­bany Law School (1851), both in­cor­po­rat­ed since 1873 with the Union Uni­ver­si­ty, the Col­le­giate De­part­ment of which is at Sch­enec­tady; the Al­bany Col­lege of Phar­ma­cy (1881), al­so part of Union Uni­ver­si­ty; the Al­bany Acade­my (1813), in which Joseph Hen­ry, while a mem­ber of the fac­ul­ty, per­fect­ed in 1826–1832 the elec­tro-​mag­net and be­gan his work on the elec­tric tele­graph; the Al­bany Acade­my for Girls, found­ed in 1814 as the Al­bany Fe­male Acade­my (name changed in 1906); and a State Nor­mal Col­lege (1890), with a Mod­el School. The hos­pi­tals and char­ita­ble in­sti­tu­tions in­clude St Vin­cent’s Or­phan Asy­lum, the Lath­rop Memo­ri­al (for chil­dren of work­ing moth­ers), Al­bany City Hos­pi­tal, the Home­opath­ic Hos­pi­tal, St Pe­ter’s Hos­pi­tal, the Al­bany City Or­phan Asy­lum and the House of the Good Shep­herd. There are a coun­ty pen­iten­tiary and a State ar­moury. The city has 95 acres of boule­vards and av­enues un­der park su­per­vi­sion and sev­er­al fine parks (17, with 307 acres in 1907), no­tably Wash­ing­ton (con­tain­ing Calver­ley’s bronze stat­ue of Robert Burns, and Rhind’s “Moses at the Rock of Horeb”), Beaver and Dud­ley, in which is the old Dud­ley Ob­ser­va­to­ry–the present Ob­ser­va­to­ry build­ing is in Lake Av­enue, south-​west of Wash­ing­ton Park, where is al­so the Al­bany Hos­pi­tal. In the beau­ti­ful ru­ral ceme­tery, north of the city, are the tombs of Pres­ident Chester A. Arthur and Gen­er­al Philip Schuyler. The city owns a fine wa­ter-​sup­ply and a fil­tra­tion plant cov­er­ing 20 acres, with a ca­pac­ity of 30,000,000 gal­lons dai­ly and stor­age reser­voirs with a ca­pac­ity of 227,000,000 gal­lons.

The first news­pa­per in Al­bany was the Gaze­tle, found­ed in 1771. The Ar­gus, found­ed in 1813 by Jesse Buel (1778–1839) and edit­ed from 1824 to 1854 by Ed­win Croswell (1797-1871), was lont­the or­gan of the co­terie of New York politi­cians known . as the “Al­bany Re­gen­cy,” and was one of the most in­flu­en­tial

Demo­crat­ic pa­pers in the Unit­ed States. Pre­vi­ous­ly to their hold­ing of­fice, Daniel Man­ning (1831-1887), sec­re­tary of the trea­sury in Pres­ident Cleve­land’s cab­inet, was pres­ident of the Ar­gus com­pa­ny, and Daniel Scott La­mont (1851-1905), sec­re­tary of war dur­ing Pres­ident Cleve­land’s sec­ond ad­min­is­tra­tion, was man­ag­ing ed­itor of the news­pa­per. The Evening Jour­nal, found­ed in 1830 as an an­ti-​Ma­son­ic or­gan, and for thir­ty-​five years edit­ed by Thur­low Weed, was equal­ly in­flu­en­tial as an or­gan of the Whig and lat­er of the Re­pub­li­can par­ty.

Al­bany is an im­por­tant rail­way and com­mer­cial cen­tre, par­tic­ular­ly as a dis­tribut­ing point for New Eng­land mar­kets, as a lum­ber mar­ket and–though to a much less ex­tent than for­mer­ly-​as a de­pot for tran­ship­ment to the south and west. Among the city’s man­ufac­to­ries are brew­eries, iron and brass foundries, stove fac­to­ries, knit­ting mills, cot­ton mills, cloth­ing fac­to­ries, slaugh­ter­ing and meat-​pack­ing es­tab­lish­ments, cigar and cigarette fac­to­ries, and man­ufac­to­ries of ad­he­sive pastes, court plas­ter, spring beds, ribbed un­der­wear, ani­line dyes, chem­icals, gas me­ters, fire-​brick, and glazed pa­per and card­board. The val­ue of the to­tal fac­to­ry prod­uct in 1905 was $20,208,715, which was 17% greater than that for 1900.

His­to­ry.—Al­bany was prob­ably the sec­ond place to be per­ma­nent­ly set­tled with­in the bor­ders of the orig­inal Thir­teen Colonies. It seems like­ly that French traders as­cend­ed the riv­er as far as the site of the present city in the first half of the six­teenth cen­tu­ry, and ac­cord­ing to some writ­ers a tem­po­rary trad­ing post was es­tab­lished here about 1540. Al­bany’s au­then­tic his­to­ry, how­ev­er, may be dat­ed from 1614, when Dutch traders built on Cas­tle Is­land, op­po­site the city, a post which they named Fort Nas­sau. Three years lat­er the fort was re­moved to the main­land, and near here in 1618 the Dutch made their first treaty with the Iro­quois. In 1624 ar­rived eigh­teen fam­ilies of Dutch Wal­loons, the first ac­tu­al per­ma­nent set­tlers, as dis­tin­guished from traders. In that year, on a hill near the site of the present Capi­tol, Fort Or­ange was built, and around it, as a cen­tre, the new town grew. At first it was known by the Dutch sim­ply as the “fuy­ck” (hoop), from the curve in the riv­er at this point, whence was soon de­rived the name Bev­er­fuvck or Bev­er­wvck. In 1629 the Dutch gov­ern­ment grant­ed to Kil­li­aen van Rens­se­laer, an Am­st­tr­dam di­amond mer­chant, a tract of land (24 sq. m.) cen­tring at Fort Or­ange. Over this tract, the first pa­troon­ship grant­ed in the colony, he had the usu­al pow­ers and rights of a pa­troon. The grant was named Rens­se­laer­wyck in his hon­our, be­came a “manor” in 1685, and re­mained in the fam­ily un­til 1853. The colonists whom he set­tled up­on his grant (1630) were in­dus­tri­ous, and “Bev­er­wvck” be­came in­creas­ing­ly pros­per­ous. From this time the town, on ac­count of its favourable com­mer­cial and strate­gic po­si­tion at the gate­way of the Iro­quois coun­try and at the head of nav­iga­tion on the Hud­son riv­er, was for a cen­tu­ry and a half one of the most im­por­tant places in the colonies. In 1664. with the trans­fer of New Nether­lands to En­glish con­trol, the name “Bev­er­wvck” was changed to “Al­bany”-one of the ti­tles of the duke of York (af­ter­ward James II.). In 1673 the town was acain for a short time un­der Dutch con­trol. In 1686 Gov­er­nor Don­aan grant­ed to Al­bany a city char­ter, which pro­vid­ed for an elect­ed coun­cil. The first may­or ap­point­ed by the aover­nor was Pe­ter Schuyler (1657-1724). In 1689 was held here the first in­ter-​colo­nial con­ven­tion in Amer­ica, when del­egates from Mas­sachusetts Bay, Ply­mouth, Con­necti­cut and New York met to treat with rep­re­sen­ta­tives of the Five Na­tions and to plan a sys­tem of colo­nial de­fence. Dur­ing the 18th cen­tu­ry there was a great in­flux of En­glish colonists, and in 1714 the first En­glish church was erect­ed. Dur­ing the French and In­di­an wars Al­bany was a start­ing-​point for ex­pe­di­tions against Cana­da and the Lake Cham­plain coun­try. In June 1754, in Dur­suance of a rec­om­men­da­tion of the Lords.of Trade, a con­ven­tion of rep­re­sen­ta­tives of Mas­sachusetts, Rhode Is­land, New Hamp­shire, Con­necti­cut, New Vork, Penn­syl­va­nia and Mary­land met here for the pur­pose of con­firm­ing and es­tab­lish­ing a clos­er league of friend­shiq with the Iro­quois and of ar­rang­ing for a Der­ma­nent union of the colonies. The In­di­an af­fairs hav­ing been sat­is­fac­to­ri­ly adiust­ed, the con­ven­tion, af­ter con­sid­er­able de­bate. in which Ben­jamin Franklin, Stephen Hop­kins and Thomas Hutchin­son took a lead­ing part, adopt­ed (Ju­ly 11) a plan forau­nionof the colonies, which was in great part sim­ilar to one sub­mit­ted to the con­ven­tion by Franklin. This plan pro­vid­ed for a rep­re­sen­ta­tive gov­ern­ing body to be known as the Grand Coun­cil, to which each colony should elect del­egates (not more than sev­en or less than two) for a term of three years. This body was to have con­trol of In­di­an af­fairs, im­pose tax­es, nom­inate all civ­il of­fi­cers, au­tho­rize the open­ing of new lands to set­tle­ment, and in gen­er­al have charge of colo­nial de­fence, and of the en­list­ment, equip­ment and main­te­nance of an army. An ex­ec­utive or viceroy, to be known as the pres­ident-​gen­er­al, was to have the ve­to pow­er over the acts of the Grand Coun­cil and the right of ap­point­ment of mil­itary of­fi­cers. Fi­nal­ly, it was pro­vid­ed that the acts of the Grand Coun­cil should be valid un­less ve­toed by the crown with­in a pe­ri­od of three years. Nei­ther the British gov­ern­ment nor the grow­ing par­ty in the colonies which was clam­our­ing for colo­nial rights re­ceived the plan with favour— the for­mer hold­ing that it gave the colonies too much in­de­pen­dence, and the lat­ter that it gave them too lit­tle. 4.he strate­gic im­por­tance of Al­bany was ful­ly rec­og­nized dur­ing the War of In­de­pen­dence, and it was against Al­bany that Bur­goyne’s ex­pe­di­tion was di­rect­ed. Al­bany be­came the per­ma­nent state cap­ital in 1797. In 1839 it be­came the cen­tre of the “An­ti-​Rent War,” which was pre­cip­itat­ed by the death of Stephen van Rens­se­laer (1764-1839), the last of the pa­troons; the at­tempt of his heirs to col­lect over­due rents re­sult­ing in dis­tur­bances which ne­ces­si­tat­ed the call­ing out of the mili­tia, spread in­to sev­er­al coun­ties where there were large land­ed es­tates, and were not en­tire­ly set­tled un­til 1847.

See William Barnes, The Set­tle­ment and Ear­ly His­to­ry of Al­bany (Al­bany, 1864): J. Mun­sell, The An­nals of Al­bany (10 vols., Al­bany, 1859-1859: 2nd ed., 4 vols., 1869-1871); E. B. O’Callaghan, Doc­umen­tary His­to­ry of the State of New York, vol. iii. (Al­bany, 1850): A. J. Weise, The His­to­ry of the City of Al­bany (Al­bany, 1884); G. R. How­ell and J. Ten­ney, Bi-​cen­ten­ni­al His­to­ry of Al­bany (New York, 1886); Amasa I. Park­er, Land­marks of Al­bany Coun­ty (Syra­cuse, 1897); and Cuyler Reynolds, Al­bany Chron­icles; or Al­bany May­ors anid Con­tem­po­ra­ne­ous Chronol­ogy (Al­bany, 1907).

AL­BANY, a mu­nic­ipal town in the coun­ty of Plan­ta­genet, West Aus­tralia, on Princess Roy­al Har­bour, a branch of King George Sound, 352 m. by rail and 254 m. di­rect­ly S.S.E. of Perth. Pop. (1901) 3650. It is the chief health re­sort of the state, and its cli­mate is one of the finest in Aus­tralia; it has a mean an­nu­al tem­per­ature of 58.6 deg. F., and the sum­mer heat is nev­er ex­ces­sive. One of the fea­tures of the town is the Ma­rine Drive, some 5 1/2 m. in cir­cuit around the hills over­look­ing the har­bour. Al­bany has sev­er­al flour­ish­ing in­dus­tries, of which the chief are brew­ing, coach-​build­ing, print­ing and tan­ning. In ad­di­tion it has the finest har­bour in West Aus­tralia. A pier ex­tends for 1700 ft. in­to the sea, giv­ing safe ac­com­mo­da­tion to the large steam­ers which call at the port. The Great South­ern rail­way has a line to the sea­ward end of the pier, and af­fords di­rect com­mu­ni­ca­tion with the in­te­ri­or of the colony. The har­bour is pro­tect­ed by forts and there is a gar­ri­son in the town. King George Sound, of which Al­bany is the town­ship, was first oc­cu­pied in 1826 and a pe­nal set­tle­ment was es­tab­lished. No at­tempt was made to col­onize the lo­cal­ity un­til af­ter this set­tle­ment was giv­en up in 1831. Al­bany be­came a mu­nic­ipal­ity in 1871.

AL­BATEG­NIUS (c. 850–929), an Arab prince and as­tronomer, cor­rect­ly des­ig­nat­ed Ma­hommed ben Gebir al Batani, his sur­name be­ing de­rived from his na­tive town, Batan in Mesopotamia. From his ob­ser­va­tions at Ar­acte and Dam­as­cus, where he died, he was able to cor­rect some of Ptole­my’s re­sults, pre­vi­ous­ly tak­en on trust. He com­piled new ta­bles of the sun and moon, long ac­cept­ed as au­thor­ita­tive, dis­cov­ered the move­ment of the sun’s apogee, and as­signed to an­nu­al pre­ces­sion the im­proved val­ue of 55” Per­haps in­de­pen­dent­ly of Aryab­hat­ta (born at Patal­ipu­tra on the Ganges 476 A.D.), he in­tro­duced the use of sines in cal­cu­la­tion, and par­tial­ly that of tan­gents. His prin­ci­pal work, De Mo­tu Stel­larum, was pub­lished at Nurem­berg in 1537 by Melanchthon, in a blun­der­ing Latin trans­la­tion by Pla­to Tiburt­inus (fl. 1116), an­no­tat­ed by Re­giomon­tanus. A reprint ap­peared at Bologna in 1645. The orig­inal MS. is pre­served at the Vat­ican; and the Es­co­ri­al li­brary pos­sess­es in MS. a trea­tise of some val­ue by him on as­tro­nom­ical chronol­ogy. Al­bateg­nius takes the high­est rank among Arab as­tronomers.

See Houzeau, Bib­li­ogra­phie as­tronomique, i. 467; M. Marie, His­toire des sci­ences, ii. 113; R. Wolf, Geschichte der As­tronomie, p. 67; De­lam­bre, Hist. de l’as­tr. au moyen age, ch. ii.; Phil. Trans. 1693 (913), where E. Hal­ley sup­plies cor­rec­tions to some of the ob­ser­va­tions record­ed in De Mo­tu Stel­larum.

AL­BA­TROSS (from the Port. Al­ca­traz, a pel­ican), the name of a genus of aquat­ic birds (Diomedea), close­ly al­lied to the pe­trels, and be­long­ing, like them, to the or­der Tubina­res. In the name Diomedea, as­signed to them by Lin­naeus, there is a ref­er­ence to the myth­ical meta­mor­pho­sis of the com­pan­ions of the Greek war­rior Diomedes in­to birds. The beak is large, strong and sharp-​edged, the up­per mandible ter­mi­nat­ing in a large hook; the wings are nar­row and very long; the feet have no hind toe, and the three an­te­ri­or toes are com­plete­ly webbed. The best known is the com­mon or wan­der­ing al­ba­tross (D. ex­ulans), which oc­curs in all parts of the South­ern Ocean. It is the largest and strongest of all sea-​birds. The length of the body is stat­ed at 4 ft., and the weight at from 15 to 25 lb. . It some­times mea­sures as much as 17 ft. be­tween the tips of the ex­tend­ed, wings, av­er­ag­ing prob­ably from 10 to 12 ft. Its strength of wing is very great. It of­ten ac­com­pa­nies a ship for days–not mere­ly fol­low­ing it, but wheel­ing in wide cir­cles round it—with­out ev­er be­ing ob­served to alight on the wa­ter. and con­tin­ues its flight, ap­par­ent­ly un­tired, in tem­pes­tu­ous as well as in mod­er­ate weath­er. It has even been said to sleep on the wing, and Moore al­ludes to this fan­ci­ful “cloud-​rocked slum­ber­ing” in his Fire Wor­ship­pers. It feeds on small fish and on the an­imal refuse that floats on the sea, eat­ing to such ex­cess at times that it is un­able to fiy and rests help­less­ly on the wa­ter. The colour of the bird is white, the back be­ing streaked trans­verse­ly with black or brown bands, and the wings dark. Sailors cap­ture the bird for its long wing-​bones, which they man­ufac­ture in­to to­bac­co-​pipe stems. The al­ba­tross lays one egg; it is white, with a few spots, and is about 4 in. long. In breed­ing-​time the bird re­sorts to soli­tary is­land groups, like the Crozet Is­lands and the el­evat­ed Tris­tan da Cun­ha, where it has its nest–a nat­ural hol­low or a cir­cle of earth rough­ly scraped to­geth­er–on the open ground. The ear­ly ex­plor­ers of the great South­ern Sea cheered them­selves with the com­pan­ion­ship of the al­ba­tross in its drea­ry soli­tudes; and the evil hap of him who shot with his cross-​bow the bird of good omen is fa­mil­iar to read­ers of Co­leridge’s Rime of the An­cient Mariner. Sev­er­al species of al­ba­tross are known; for the small­er forms see MALLE­MUCK.

AL­BAY, a city and the cap­ital of the province of Al­bay, Lu­zon, Philip­pine Is­lands, near an in­let on the W. shore of the Gulf of Al­bay, 215 m. by wag­on-​road S.E. of Mani­la. Pop. (1903) 14,049; in Oc­to­ber 1907 the towns of Dara­ga (pop. 1903, 18,695) and Legaspi (pop. 1903, 9206) were merged with Al­bay, mak­ing its to­tal pop­ula­tion, on the ba­sis of the 1903 cen­sus, 41,950. Al­bay is one of the most im­por­tant cities of the Philip­pine Is­lands. It is built on lev­el ground near the S. base of Mount May­on, a beau­ti­ful vol­canic peak, 7916 ft. high, from which it is shel­tered by the Lin­guin hills. The sur­round­ing coun­try is one of the most im­por­tant hemp-​pro­duc­ing dis­tricts in the Philip­pines; sina­may is wo­ven here, and large quan­ti­ties of hemp are shipped from here to Mani­la. Co­coa, co­pra, sug­ar and sweet pota­toes are oth­er im­por­tant prod­ucts of the dis­trict. The lan­guage is Bi­col. The old town, called Cagsaua, which stood a short dis­tance E.N.E. of the new, was com­plete­ly de­stroyed by an erup­tion of the vol­cano in 1814 (about 1200 peo­ple be­ing killed), and the new town was al­most en­tire­ly de­stroyed by the in­sur­gents in Febru­ary 1900, an an­cient stone church of much beau­ty (in what was for­mer­ly Dara­ga) be­ing left stand­ing on an el­evat­ed site com­mand­ing a view of the sur­round­ing coun­try. The town was re­built on a larg­er scale by Amer­icans.

ALBE­DO (from Lat. al­bus, white), “white­ness,” a word used prin­ci­pal­ly in as­tron­omy for the de­gree of re­flect­ed light; the light of the sun which is re­flect­ed from the moon is called the albe­do of the moon.

ALBE­MAR­LE, EARLS AND DUKES OF. The name Albe­mar­le, which now forms the ti­tle of the earl­dom held by the En­glish fam­ily of Kep­pel, is an ear­ly vari­ant of the French Au­male (Lat. Al­ba dlar­la), oth­er forms be­ing Aube­mar­le and Aumer­le, and is de­scribed in the patent of no­bil­ity grant­ed in 1696-1697 by William III. to Arnold Joost van Kep­pel as “a town and ter­ri­to­ry in the duke­dom of Nor­mandy.”

The fief of Au­male (q. v.) was grant­ed by the arch­bish­op of Rouen to Odo of Cham­pagne, broth­er-​in-​law of William the Con­queror, who erect­ed it in­to a countship. On Odo’s death his son Stephen suc­ceed­ed not on­ly to the countship of Au­male, but to the lord­ships of Hold­er­ness, of Bytham in Lin­colnshire, &c., which were sub­se­quent­ly known as the “Fee and Hon­or of Albe­mar­le.” Stephen, who as a cru­sad­er had fought valiant­ly at An­ti­och, died about 1127, leav­ing by his wife Ha­wise, daugh­ter of Ralph de Mor­timer, a son—William of Blois, known as “le Gros.” William, who dis­tin­guished him­self at the bat­tle of the Stan­dard (1138), and shared with King Stephen in the de­feat of Lin­coln (1141), mar­ried Ci­ce­ly, daugh­ter of William Fitz­Dun­can, grand­son of Mal­colm, king of Scot­land, who as “la­dy of Hare­wood” brought him vast es­tates. He found­ed abbeys at Meaux in Hold­er­ness and at Thorn­ton, and died in 1179. His el­der daugh­ter and heiress Ha­wise mar­ried (1) William de Man­dev­ille, 3rd earl of Es­sex (d. 1189), (2) William de Fort­ibus (de Fors, de Fortz or des Forts1), (3) Bald­win de Be­tun or Bethune, all of whom bore the ti­tle of earls of Albe­mar­le.

Soon af­ter the death­pf Bald­win (Oc­to­ber 13, 1213), William de Fort­ibus, Ha­wise’s son by her sec­ond hus­band, was es­tab­lished by King John in the ter­ri­to­ries of the countship of Albe­mar­le, and in 1215 the whole of his moth­er’s es­tates were for­mal­ly con­firmed to him. He is de­scribed by Bish­op Stubbs as “a feu­dal ad­ven­tur­er of the worst type,” and for some time was ac­tive­ly en­gaged in the strug­gles of the Nor­man barons against John and Hen­ry III. He was one of the twen­ty-​five ex­ecu­tors of the Great Char­ter; but in the war that fol­lowed sid­ed with John, sub­se­quent­ly chang­ing sides as of­ten as it suit­ed his pol­icy. His ob­ject was to re­vive the in­de­pen­dent pow­er of the feu­dal barons, and he co-​op­er­at­ed to this end with Falkes de Breaute (q.v.) and oth­er for­eign ad­ven­tur­ers es­tab­lished in the coun­try by John. This brought him in­to con­flict with the great jus­ti­ciar, Hu­bert de Burgh, and in 1219 he was de­clared a rebel and ex­com­mu­ni­cat­ed for at­tend­ing a for­bid­den tour­na­ment. In 1220 mat­ters were brought to a cri­sis by his re­fusal to sur­ren­der the two roy­al cas­tles of Rock­ing­ham and Sauvey of which he had been made con­sta­ble in 1216. Hen­ry III. marched against them in per­son, the gar­risons fled, and they fell with­out a blow. In the fol­low­ing year, how­ev­er, Albe­mar­le, in face of fur­ther ef­forts to re­duce his pow­er, rose in re­volt. He was now again ex­com­mu­ni­cat­ed by the legate Pan­dulph at a solemn coun­cil held in St Paul’s, and the whole force of the king­dom was set in mo­tion against him, a spe­cial scu­tage-​the “scu­tag­ium de Bi­han”—be­ing vot­ed for this pur­pose by the Great Coun­cil. The cap­ture of his cas­tle of Bytham broke his pow­er; he sought sanc­tu­ary and, at Pan­dulph’s in­ter­ces­sion, was par­doned on con­di­tion of go­ing for six years to the Holy Land. He re­mained in Eng­land, how­ev­er, and in 1223 was once more in re­volt with Falkes de Breaute, the earl of Chester and oth­er tur­bu­lent spir­its. A rec­on­cil­ia­tion was once more patched up; but it was not un­til the fall of Falkes de Breaute that Albe­mar­le fi­nal­ly set­tled down as an En­glish no­ble. In 1225 he wit­nessed Hen­ry’s third re-​is­sue of the Great Char­ter; in 1227 he went as am­bas­sador to Antwerp; and in 1230 he ac­com­pa­nied Hen­ry on his ex­pe­di­tion to Brit­tany. In 1241 he set out for the Holy Land, but died at sea, on his way there, on the 26th of March 1242. By his wife Aveli­na of Mont­fichet, William left a son, al­so named William, who mar­ried (1) Christi­na (d. 1246), daugh­ter and co-​heiress of Alan, lord of Gal­loway, (2) in 1248 Is­abel­la de Red­vers (1237-1292-3), daugh­ter of Bald­win de Red­vers, earl of De­von and lord of the Isle of Wight. He played a con­spic­uous part in the reign of Hen­ry III., no­tably in the Mad Par­lia­ment of 1258, and died at Amiens in 1260. His wid­ow, Is­abel­la, on the death of her broth­er Bald­win, 8th earl of De­von, in 1261, cailed her­self count­ess of De­von. She had two chil­dren, Thomas, who died in 1269 un­mar­ried, and Aveli­na, who mar­ried (1269) Ed­mund Plan­ta­genet, earl of Lan­cast­er, and died with­out is­sue in 1274. The “Hon­or of Albe­mar­le” was claimed, in 1278, by John de Es­ton, or As­ton, as heir of Am­icia, younger daugh­ter of William le Gros; but he re­leased his right to the earl­dom of Albe­mar­le to the crown in ex­change for cer­tain lands in Thorn­ton.

The ti­tle of Albe­mar­le, thus ex­tin­guished, was sev­er­al times re­vived be­fore it be­came at­tached to the fam­ily of its present hold­ers. In 1385 Thomas of Wood­stock, duke of Glouces­ter, was sum­moned to pa­di­ament as “duke of Albe­mar­le,” but he seems nev­er sub­se­quent­ly to have used the ti­tle. In any case this cre­ation be­came ex­tinct with the death of his son Humphrey, duke of Glouces­ter, in 1399. In 1411 Thomas Plan­ta­genet, sec­ond son of Hen­ry IV., was cre­at­ed earl of Albe­mar­le and duke of Clarence, but at his death at the bat­tle of Beauge (March 22, 1421) these hon­ours be­came ex­tinct. That of Albe­mar­le was, how­ev­er, soon re­vived (c. 1423) in favour of Richard de Beauchamp, earl of War­wick, whose ti­tle of earl of Aumer­le, how­ev­er, died with him.

In 1660 Charles II. be­stowed the ti­tle of duke of Albe­mar­le on Gen­er­al Monk (q.v..) Monk’s hered­itary claim to this semiroy­al peer­age was a very shad­owy one, be­ing based–as was al­so his sub­or­di­nate style of Baron Beauchamp—on his de­scent from the youngest of the three co-​heiress­es of Richard, earl of War­wick, and, with yet more re­mote ap­pli­ca­bil­ity, on that from Arthur Plan­ta­genet, a nat­ural son of Ed­ward IV. The ti­tle be­came ex­tinct in 1688, on the death of Christo­pher, 2nd duke of Albe­mar­le.

Fi­nal­ly, as men­tioned above, the ti­tle of earl of Albe­mar­le was be­stowed by William III., with­out any shad­ow of hered­itary claim, on his Dutch favourite Arnold Joost van Kep­pel (see be­low), by whose de­scen­dants it is still held. The mo­tive for choos­ing this ti­tle was prob­ably that, apart from its dig­ni­fied tra­di­tions, it avoid­ed the dif­fi­cul­ty cre­at­ed by the fact that the Kep­pels had as yet no ter­ri­to­ri­al pos­ses­sions in the British Is­lands.

ARNOLD JOOST VAN KEP­PEL, 1st earl of Albe­mar­le, and lord of Voorst in Gelder­land (c. 1670-1718), son of Os­wald van Kep­pel and his wife An­na Geertru­id van Lin­tel­lo, was born in Hol­land about 1670. He be­came page to William III., ac­com­pa­nied him to Eng­land in 1688, and was made groom of the bed-​cham­ber and mas­ter of the robes in 1695. On the 10th of Febru­ary 1696f7 he was cre­at­ed earl of Albe­mar­le, Vis­count Bury and Baron Ash­ford. In 1700 William gave him lands of enor­mous ex­tent in Ire­land, but par­lia­ment obliged the king to can­cel this grant, and William then be­stowed on him L. 50,000. The same year he was made a knight of the Garter. Mean­while he had served both with the En­glish and Dutch troops, was ma­jor-​gen­er­al in 1697, colonel of sev­er­al reg­iments and gov­er­nor of Bois-​le-​Duc. Of hand­some per­son and en­gag­ing dis­po­si­tion, he ri­valled Port­land, whose jeal­ousy he aroused in the roy­al favour, pos­sessed William’s full con­fi­dence and ac­com­pa­nied him ev­ery­where. In Febru­ary 1702 he was sent by William. then pros­trat­ed with his last ill­ness, to Hol­land to ar­range the com­ing cam­paign, and on­ly re­turned in time to re­ceive William’s last com­mis­sions on his deathbed. Af­ter the death ofthe lat­ter, who be­queathed to him 200,000 guilders and some lands, he re­turned to Hol­land, took his seat as a no­ble in the states-​gen­er­al, and was made a gen­er­al of horse in the Dutch army. He joined the forces of the al­lies in 1703, was present at Ramil­lies in 1706 and at Oudenarde in 1708, and dis­tin­guished him­self at the siege of Lille. He com­mand­ed at the siege of Aire in 1710, led Marl­bor­ough’s sec­ond line in 1711, and was gen­er­al of the Dutch forces in 1712, be­ing de­feat­ed at De­nain af­ter the with­draw­al of Or­monde and the En­glish forces and tak­en pris­on­er. He died on the 30th of May 1718, aged 48. He mar­ried Geertru­id, daugh­ter of Adam van der Deni­jn, by whom, be­sides a daugh­ter, he had a son, William Anne, who suc­ceed­ed him as 2nd earl of Albe­mar­le.

Of the lat­er earls men­tion need on­ly be made of the sixth, GEORGE THOMAS KEP­PEL (1799–1891), British gen­er­al, sec­ond son of the fourth earl, born on the 13th of June 1799. Ed­ucat­ed at West­min­ster School he en­tered the army as en­sign, 14th Foot, in 1815. He joined his reg­iment in Bel­gium and took part in the Wa­ter­loo cam­paign and the march to Paris, joined the sec­ond bat­tal­ion in Cor­fu, and was trans­ferred to the 22nd Foot, with which he served in Mau­ri­tius and at the Cape, re­turn­ing home in 1819, when he was ap­point­ed equer­ry to the duke of Sus­sex. Pro­mot­ed to a lieu­tenan­cy in the 24th Foot, he was trans­ferred to the 20th Foot, and went to In­dia, where he was aide-​de-​camp to the mar­quess of Hast­ings un­til his res­ig­na­tion in 1823, when Kep­pel re­turned to Eng­land, trav­el­ling over­land through Per­sia, Moscow and St Pe­ters­burg. He pub­lished in 1825 an ac­count of his trav­els, en­ti­tled Jour­ney from In­dia to Eng­land. He was aide-​de-​camp to the Mar­quess Welles­ley, lord-​lieu­tenant of Ire­land, for two years, was pro­mot­ed cap­tain in the 62nd Foot, stud­ied in the se­nior de­part­ment of the Roy­al Mil­itary Col­lege at Sand­hurst, and in 1827 ob­tained a half-​pay unattached ma­jor­ity. He did not again serve on full pay, but rose to be a gen­er­al. In 1829 he vis­it­ed the seat of the Rus­so-​Turk­ish war and was with the British fleet in Turk­ish wa­ters. In 1832 he was re­turned in the Whig in­ter­est to the first re­formed par­lia­ment as mem­ber for East Nor­folk and sat un­til 1835. He was pri­vate sec­re­tary to the pre­mier, Lord John Rus­sell, in 1846, and M.P. for Lyming­ton from 1847 to 1849. He suc­ceed­ed to the ti­tle on the death of his broth­er in 1851. He died in 1891 and was buried at Quiden­ham, Nor­folk. He wrote an ac­count of a Jour­ney across the Balka­ns, Mem­oirs of the Mar­quis of Rock­ing­ham, and an au­to­big­ra­phy en­ti­tled Fifty Years of My Life.

See G. E. C(ock­ayne), Com­plete Peer­age, 8 vols. (Lon­don, 1887). For the two Williams de Fort­ibus, see s.v. Prof. T. F. Tout’s ar­ti­cles in the Dict. of Nat. Biog.

1 The name was de­rived from Fors, a com­mune in the can­ton of Pra­hecq in Poitou. It is spelt Forz in a deed of 1233, and the best ver­nac­ular form is, ac­cord­ing to Thomas Sta­ple­ton (Pref­ace to the Liber de An­tiq­ui­tate, Cam­den Soc., 1846, p. xxxiv. note), de Fortz.

AL­BEN­GA, a town and epis­co­pal see of Lig­uria, Italy, on the N.W. coast of the Gulf of Genoa, in the province of Genoa, 521 m. S.W. of Genoa by rail. Pop. (1901) 6248. Al­ben­ga is the an­cient Al­bum In­gaunum or Al­bingaunum, the chief town of the In­gau­ni, one of the most im­por­tant of the Lig­uri­an tribes, whose ter­ri­to­ry reached as far as Genoa. Un­der the em­pire it was a mu­nicpi­um; an in­scrip­tion records the restora­tion of the walls, fo­rum, har­bour, &c., by Con­stan­tius A.D. 354. A lit­tle way out­side the town to the E. is a well-​pre­served Ro­man bridge near­ly 500 ft. long and 11 1/2 ft. wide, with IO arch­es, each with a span of 37 ft. It be­longed to the coast road and is now known as Ponte Lun­go. To the S. of the town is a con­spic­uous mon­ument, 27 ft. high, in the form of a rect­an­gu­lar pil­lar, re­sem­bling a tomb; but as there is no trace of a door to a sepul­chral cham­ber it may be a shrine. In the town it­self there are no Ro­man re­mains; but there is a good Goth­ic cathe­dral in brick, and an in­ter­est­ing oc­tag­onal bap­tis­tery, at­tribut­ed to the 8th or oth cen­tu­ry, the arch­es be­ing sup­port­ed by an­cient columns, and the vault­ing dec­orat­ed with mo­saics. Some of the me­dieval palaces of Al­ben­ga have lofty brick tow­ers.

See A. d’An­drade in Re­lazione dell’ Uf­fi­cio Re­gionale per la Con­ser­vazione dei mon­umen­ti del Piemonte e del­la Lig­uria (Turin, 1899), 114 seq.

AL­BERONI, GIULIO (1664-1752), Span­ish–Ital­ian car­di­nal and states­man, was born near Pi­acen­za, prob­ably at the vil­lage of Fioren­zuo­la, on the 31st of May 1664. His fa­ther was a gar­den­er, and he him­self be­came first con­nect­ed with the church in the hum­ble po­si­tion of verg­er in the cathe­dral of Pi­acen­za. Hav­ing gained the favour of Bish­op Barni he took priest’s or­ders, and af­ter­wards ac­com­pa­nied the son of his pa­tron to Rome. Dur­ing the war of the Span­ish suc­ces­sion Al­beroni laid the foun­da­tion of his po­lit­ical suc­cess by the ser­vices he ren­dered to the duke of Ven­dome, com­man­der of the French forces in Italy; and when these forces were re­called in 1706 he ac­com­pa­nied the duke to Paris, where he was favourably re­ceived by Louis XIV. In 1711 he fol­lowed Ven­dome in­to Spain as his sec­re­tary. Two years lat­er, the duke hav­ing died in the in­ter­val, Al­beroni was ap­point­ed con­sular agent for Par­ma at the court of Philip V. of Spain, be­ing raised at the same time to the dig­ni­ty­of count. On his ar­rival at Madrid he found the princesse des Ursins all but om­nipo­tent with the king, and for a time he judged it ex­pe­di­ent to use her in­flu­ence in car­ry­ing out his plans. In con­cert with her he ar­ranged the king’s mar­riage with Eliz­abeth Far­nese of Par­ma. The in­flu­ence of the new queen be­ing ac­tive­ly ex­ert­ed on Al­beroni’s be­half, he speed­ily rose to high po­si­tion. He was made a mem­ber of the king’s coun­cil, bish­op of Mala­ga, and in 1715 prime min­is­ter, and was raised to the dig­ni­ty of car­di­nal in 1717. His in­ter­nal pol­icy was ex­ceed­ing­ly vig­or­ous. The main pur­pose he put be­fore.him­self was to pro­duce an eco­nom­ic re­vival in Spain by abol­ish­ing in­ter­nal cus­tom-​hous­es, throw­ing open the trade of the In­dies and re­or­ga­niz­ing the fi­nances. With the re­sources thus gained he un­der­took to en­able King Philip V. to car­ry out an am­bi­tious pol­icy both in Italy and in France. The im­pa­tience of the king and his wife gave the min­is­ter no time to ma­ture his plans. By pro­vok­ing Eng­land, France, Hol­land and the Em­pire at once it brought a flood of dis­as­ter on Spain for which Al­beroni was held re­spon­si­ble. On the 5th of De­cem­ber 1719 he was or­dered to leave Spain, Eliz­abeth her­self hav­ing tak­en an ac­tive part in procur­ing the de­cree of ban­ish­ment. He went to Italy, and there had to take refuge among the Apen­nines, Pope Clement XI., who was his bit­ter en­emy, hav­ing giv­en strict or­ders for his ar­rest. On the death of Clement, Al­beroni bold­ly ap­peared at the Con­clave, and took part in the elec­tion of In­no­cent XI­II. (1721), af­ter which he was for a short time im­pris­oned by the pon­tiff on the de­mand of Spain. At the next elec­tion (1724) he was him­self pro­posed for the pa­pal chair, and se­cured ten votes at the Con­clave which elect­ed Bene­dict XI­II. Bene­dict’s suc­ces­sor, Clement XII. (elect­ed 1730), named him legate of Raven­na, in which ca­pac­ity he in­curred the pope’s dis­plea­sure by the strong and un­war­rantable mea­sures he adopt­ed to re­duce the lit­tle re­pub­lic of San Mari­no to sub­jec­tion to Rome. He was con­se­quent­ly re­placed by an­oth­er legate in 1740, and soon af­ter he re­tired to Pi­acen­za. Clement XII. ap­point­ed him ad­min­is­tra­tor of the hos­pi­tal of San Laz­zaro at Pi­acen­za in 1730. The hos­pi­tal was a me­dieval foun­da­tion for the ben­efit of lep­ers. The dis­ease hav­ing dis­ap­peared from Italy, Al­beroni ob­tained the con­sent of the pope to the sup­pres­sion of the hos­pi­tal, which had fall­en in­to great dis­or­der, and re­placed it by a col­lege for the ed­uca­tion of sev­en­ty poor boys for the priest­hood, un­der the name of the Col­le­gio Al­beroni, which it still bears. He died on the 16th of June 1752, leav­ing a sum of 600,000 ducats to en­dow the sem­inary he had found­ed, and the residue of the im­mense wealth he had ac­quired in Spain to his nephew. Al­beroni left a large quan­ti­ty of manuscripts; but the gen­uine­ness of the Po­lit­ical Tes­ta­ment, pub­lished in his name at Lau­sanne in 1753, has been ques­tioned.

An His­toire du Car­di­nal Al­beroni up to 1719 was pub­lished by Jean Rous­set de Mis­sy at the Hague in 1719. A lauda­to­ry life, Sto­ria del Car­di­nale Giulio Al­beroni, was pub­lished by Ste­fano Bersani, a priest ed­ucat­ed at his col­lege, at Pi­acen­za, in 1861. Giulio Al­beroni e il suo se­co­lo, by Gio­van­ni Bianchi (1901), is briefer and more crit­ical. See al­so Let­tres in­times de J. Al­beroni, edit­ed by M. E. Bour­geois (1892).

AL­BERT (1522-1557), prince of Bayreuth, sur­named THE WAR­LIKE, and al­so AL­CIB­IADES, was a son of Casimir, prince of Bayreuth, and a mem­ber of the Fran­co­ni­an branch of the Ho­hen­zollern fam­ily. Born at Ans­bach on the 28th of March 1522, he lost his fa­ther in 1527 and came un­der the guardian­ship of his un­cle George, prince of Ans­bach, a strong ad­her­ent of the re­formed doc­trines. In 1541 he re­ceived Bayreuth as his share of the fam­ily lands, and as the chief town of his prin­ci­pal­ity was Kulm­bach he is some­times re­ferred to as the mar­grave of Bran­den­burg-​Kulm­bach. His rest­less and tur­bu­lent na­ture marked him out for a mil­itary ca­reer; and hav­ing col­lect­ed a small band of sol­diers, he as­sist­ed the em­per­or Charles V. in his war with France in 1543. The peace of Crepy in Septem­ber 1544 de­prived him of this em­ploy­ment, but he had won a con­sid­er­able rep­uta­tion, and when Charles was prepar­ing to at­tack the league of Schmal­ka­lden, he took pains to win Al­bert’s as­sis­tance. Shar­ing in the at­tack on the Sax­on elec­torate, Al­bert was tak­en pris­on­er at Rc­ch­litz in March 1547 by John Fre­deack, elec­tor of Sax­ony, but was re­leased as a re­sult of the em­per­or’s vic­to­ry at Muhlberg in the suc­ceed­ing April. He then fol­lowed the for­tunes of his friend Mau­rice, the new elec­tor of Sax­ony, de­sert­ed Charles, and joined the league which pro­posed to over­throw the em­per­or by an al­liance with Hen­ry II. of France. IIe took part in the sub­se­quent cam­paign, but when the treaty of Pas­sau was signed in Au­gust 1552 he sep­arat­ed him­self from his al­lies and be­gan a cru­sade of plun­der in Fran­co­nia. Hav­ing ex­tort­ed a large sum of mon­ey from the burghers of Nurem­berg, he quar­relled with his sup­port­er, the French king, and of­fered his ser­vices to the em­per­or. Charles, anx­ious to se­cure such a fa­mous fight­er, glad­ly as­sent­ed to Al­bert’s de­mands and gave the im­pe­ri­al sanc­tion to his pos­ses­sion of the lands tak­en from the bish­ops of Wurzburg and Bam­berg; and his con­spic­uous brav­ery was of great val­ue to the em­per­or on the re­treat from Metz in Jan­uary 1553. When Charles left Ger­many a few weeks lat­er, Al­bert re­newed his depre­da­tions in Fran­co­nia. These soon be­came so se­ri­ous that a league was formed to crush him, and Mau­rice of Sax­ony led an army against his for­mer com­rade. The ri­val forces met at Siev­er­shausen on the 9th of Ju­ly 1553, and af­ter a com­bat of un­usu­al fe­roc­ity Al­bert was put to flight. Hen­ry II., duke of Brunswick, then took com­mand of the troops of the league, and af­ter Al­bert had been placed un­der the im­pe­ri­al ban in De­cem­ber 1553 he was de­feat­ed by Duke Hen­ry, and com­pelled to fly to France. He there en­tered the ser­vice of Hen­ry II., and had un­der­tak­en a cam­paign to re­gain his lands when he died at Pforzheim on the 8th of Jan­uary 1557.

See J. Voigt, Mork­graf Al­brecht Al­cib­iades von Bran­den­burgKulm­bach (Berlin, 1852).

AL­BERT I. (c. 1100-1170), mar­grave of Bran­den­burg, sur­named THE BEAR, was the on­ly son of Ot­to the Rich, count of Bal­len­st­edt, and Ei­li­ka, daugh­ter of Mag­nus Bil­lung, duke of Sax­ony. He in­her­it­ed the valu­able Sax­on es­tates of his fa­ther in 1123, and on his moth­er’s death, in 1142, suc­ceed­ed to one-​half of the lands of the Bil­lungs. About 1123 he re­ceived from Lothair, duke of Sax­ony, the mar­gravi­ate of Lusa­tia, and, af­ter Lothair be­came Ger­man king, ac­com­pa­nied him on the dis­as­trous ex­pe­di­tion to Bo­hemia in 1126, when he suf­fered a short im­pris­on­ment. In 1128 his broth­er7in-​law, Hen­ry II., mar­grave of the Sax­on north mark, died, and Al­bert, dis­ap­point­ed at not re­ceiv­ing this fief, at­tacked Udo, the suc­ceed­ing mar­grave, and was con­se­quent­ly de­prived of Lusa­tia by Lothair. In spite of this, he went to Italy in 1132 in the train of the king, and his ser­vices there were re­ward­ed, in 1134, by the in­vesti­ture of the north mark, which was again with­out a ruler. For three years he was oc­cu­pied in cam­paigns against the Wends, and by an ar­range­ment made with Pribis­laus, duke of Bran­den­burg, Al­bert se­cured this dis­trict when the duke died in 1150. Tak­ing the ti­tle mar­grave of Bran­den­burg, he pressed the war­fare against the Wends, ex­tend­ed the area of his mark, did much for the spread of Chris­tian­ity and civ­iliza­tion there­in, and so be­came the founder of the mar­gravi­ate of Bran­den­burg. In 1137 his cousin, Hen­ry the Proud, had been de­prived by King Con­rad III. of his Sax­on duchy, which was giv­en to Al­bert. Af­ter meet­ing with some suc­cess in his ef­forts to take pos­ses­sion, he was driv­en from Sax­ony, and al­so from his mark by Hen­ry, and com­pelled to take refuge in South Ger­many, and when peace was made in 1142 he re­nounced the Sax­on duke­dom and re­ceived the coun­ties of Weimar and Or­la­munde. It was pos­si­bly at this time that Al­bert was made arch-​cham­ber­lain of the Em­pire, an of­fice which af­ter­wards gave the mar­graves of Bran­den­burg the rights of an elec­tor. A feud with Hen­ry the Li­on, duke of Sax­ony, was fol­lowed, in 1158, by a pil­grim­age to the Holy Land, and in 1162 Al­bert ac­com­pa­nied the em­per­or Fred­er­ick I. to Italy, and dis­tin­guished him­self at the storm­ing of Mi­lan. In 1164 he joined a league of princes formed against Hen­ry the Li­on, and peace be­ing made in 1169, Al­bert di­vid­ed his ter­ri­to­ries among his six sons, and died on the 13th of Novem­ber 1170, and was buried at Bal­len­stadt. His per­son­al qual­ities won for him the sur­name of “the Bear,” and he is al­so called by lat­er writ­ers “the Hand­some.”

See L. von Heine­mann, Al­brecht der Bar (Darm­stadt, 1864). AL­BERT III. (1414–1486), elec­tor of Bran­den­burg, sur­named ACHILLES be­cause of his knight­ly qual­ities, was the third son of Fred­er­ick I. of Ho­hen­zollern, elec­tor of Bran­den­burg, and was born at Tanger­munde on the 9th of Novem­ber 1414. Af­ter pass­ing some time at the court of the em­per­or Sigis­mund, he took part in the war against the Hus­sites, and af­ter­wards dis­tin­guished him­self whilst as­sist­ing the Ger­man king, Al­bert II., against the Poles. On the di­vi­sion of ter­ri­to­ry which fol­lowed his fa­ther’s death in 1440, Al­bert re­ceived the prin­ci­pal­ity of Ans­bach; and al­though his re­sources were very mea­gre he soon took a lead­ing place among the Ger­man princes, and was es­pe­cial­ly promi­nent in re­sist­ing the at­tempts of the towns to ob­tain self-​gov­ern­ment. In 1443 he formed a league di­rect­ed main­ly against Nurem­berg, over which town mem­bers of his fam­ily had for­mer­ly ex­er­cised the rights of bur­grave. It was not un­til 1448, how­ev­er, that he found a pre­text for at­tack, and the war which last­ed un­til 1453 end­ed in a vic­to­ry for the Nurem­berg­ers, and the recog­ni­tion of their in­de­pen­dence. He sup­port­ed the em­per­or Fred­er­ick III. in his strug­gle with the princes who de­sired re-​forms in Oier­many, and in re­turn for this loy­al­ty re­ceived many marks of favour from Fred­er­ick, in­clud­ing ex­ten­sive ju­di­cial rights which aroused con­sid­er­able ir­ri­ta­tion among neigh­bour­ing rulers. In 1457 he ar­ranged a mar­riage be­tween his el­dest son John, and Mar­garet, daugh­ter of William III., land­grave of Thuringia, who in­her­it­ed the claims up­on Hun­gary and Bo­hemia of her moth­er, a grand­daugh­ter of the em­per­or Sigis­mund. The at­tempt to se­cure these thrones for the Ho­hen­zollerns through this mar­riage failed, and a sim­ilar fate be­fell Al­bert’s ef­forts to re­vive in his own favour the dis­used. ti­tle of duke of Fran­co­nia. The sharp dis­sen­sions which ex­ist­ed among the princes over the ques­tion of re­form cul­mi­nat­ed in open war­fare in 1460, when Al­bert was con­front­ed with a league un­der the lead­er­ship of the elec­tor pala­tine, Fred­er­ick I., and Louis IX. (the Rich), duke of Bavaria-​Land­shut. Worsted in this strug­gle, which was con­clud­ed in 1462, Al­bert made an al­liance with his for­mer en­emy, George Pode­brad, king of Bo­hemia, a step which caused Pope Paul II. to place him un­der the ban.

In 1470 Al­bert, who had in­her­it­ed Bayreuth on the death of his broth­er John in 1464, be­came elec­tor of Bran­den­burg ow­ing to the ab­di­ca­tion of his re­main­ing broth­er, the elec­tor Fred­er­ick II. He was soon ac­tive­ly en­gaged in its ad­min­is­tra­tion, and by the treaty of Pren­zlau in 1472 he brought Pomera­nia al­so un­der his suprema­cy. Hav­ing es­tab­lished his right to levy a ton­nage on wines in the mark, he is­sued in Febru­ary 1473 the im­por­tant dis­po­si­tio Achil­lea, which de­creed that the mark of Bran­den­burg should de­scend in its en­tire­ty to the el­dest son, while the younger sons should re­ceive the Fran­co­ni­an pos­ses­sions of the fam­ily. Af­ter treat­ing in vain for a mar­riage be­tween one of his sons and Mary, daugh­ter and heiress of Charles the Bold, duke of Bur­gundy, Al­bert hand­ed over the gov­ern­ment of Bran­den­burg to his el­dest son John, and re­turned to his Fran­co­ni­an pos­ses­sions. In 1474 he mar­ried his daugh­ter Bar­bara to Hen­ry XI., duke of Glo­gau, who left his pos­ses­sions on his death in 1476 to his wid­ow with re­ver­sion to her fam­ily, an ar­range­ment which was re­sist­ed by Hen­rv’s kins­man, John II., duke of Sagan. Aid­ed by Matthias Corv­inus, king of Hun­gary, John in­vad­ed Bran­den­burg, and the Pomera­ni­ans seized the op­por­tu­ni­ty to re­volt. Un­der these cir­cum­stances Al­bert re­turned to Bran­den­burg in 1478, com­pelled the Pomera­ni­ans to own his suprema­cy, and af­ter a stub­born strug­gle se­cured a part of Duke Hen­ry’s lands for his daugh­ter in 1482. His main at­ten­tion was af­ter­wards claimed by the busi­ness of the Em­pire, and soon af­ter tak­ing part in the elec­tion of Max­im­il­ian as king of the Ro­mans he died at Frank­fort on the 11th of March 1486. He left a con­sid­er­able amount of trea­sure. His first wife was Mar­garet of Baden, by whom he had six chil­dren; and his sec­ond was Anne of Sax­ony, by whom he had thir­teen.

Al­bert was a man of re­lent­less en­er­gy and bound­less am­bi­tion, who by rea­son of his phys­ical and in­tel­lec­tu­al qual­ities was one of the most promi­nent princes of the 15th cen­tu­ry.

See Das kaiser­liche Buch des Mark­grafen Al­brecht Achilles, Fer­kur­furstliche Pe­ri­ode, 1440-1470, edit­ed by C. Hofler (Bayreuth, 1850); Kur­furstliche Pe­ri­ode, edit­ed by J. von Min­utoli (Berlin, 1850); Quel­len­samm­lung zur Geschichte des Haus­es Ho­hen­zollern, Band I., edit­ed by C. A. H. Burkhardt (Je­na, 1857); O. Franklin, Al­brecht Achilles und die Nurem­berg­er, 1444-1453 (Berlin, 1866); Poli­tis­che Ko­rre­spon­denz des Kur­fursten Al­brecht Achilles, 1486, edit­ed by F. Priebatsch (Leipzig, 1894-1898); J. G. Droy­sen, Geschichte der preussis­chen Poli­tik (Berlin, 1835-1886).

AL­BERT (FRAN­CIS CHARLES AU­GUS­TUS AL­BERT EM­MANUEL) (1819-1861), prince-​con­sort of Eng­land, was born at Bose­nau on the 26th of Au­gust 1819. He was the sec­ond son of the hered­itary duke of Saxe-​Coburg-​Gotha (be­long­ing to the Ernes­tine or el­der branch of the roy­al fam­ily of Sax­ony) by his first wife, the princess Louise of Saxe-​Gotha-​Al­tenburg (d. 1831), from whom the duke was sep­arat­ed in 1824. His fa­ther’s sis­ter mar­ried the duke of Kent, and her daugh­ter, af­ter­wards Queen Vic­to­ria of Eng­land, Prince Al­bert’s wife, was thus his first cousin. They were born in the same year. Al­bert and his el­der broth­er, Ernest, were close com­pan­ions in youth, and were ed­ucat­ed un­der the care of Con­sis­to­ri­al­rath Florschutz, sub­se­quent­ly pro­ceed­ing to the uni­ver­si­ty of Bonn. There Prince Al­bert de­vot­ed him­self es­pe­cial­ly to nat­ural sci­ence, po­lit­ical econ­omy and phi­los­ophy, hav­ing for teach­ers such men as Fichte, Schlegel and Perthes; he dili­gent­ly cul­ti­vat­ed mu­sic and paint­ing, and ex­celled in gym­nas­tic ex­er­cis­es, es­pe­cial­ly in fenc­ing. The idea of a mar­riage be­tween him and his cousin Vic­to­ria had al­ways been cher­ished by their un­cle, King Leopold I. of Bel­gium, and in May 1836 the duke of Saxe-​Coburg-​Gotha and his two sons paid a vis­it to Kens­ing­ton Palace, where Princess Vic­to­ria, as she then was, lived, for the pur­pose of mak­ing ac­quain­tance for the first time. The vis­it was by no means to the taste of King William IV., who dis­ap­proved of the match and favoured Prince Alexan­der of Or­ange. But Leopold’s plan was known to Princess Vic­to­ria, and William’s ob­jec­tions were fruit­less. Princess Vic­to­ria, writ­ing to her un­cle Leopold (May 23, 1836), said that Al­bert was “ex­treme­ly hand­some”; and (June 7) thanked him for the “prospect of great hap­pi­ness you have con­tribut­ed to give me in the per­son of dear Al­bert. He pos­sess­es ev­ery qual­ity that could be de­sired to ren­der me per­fect­ly hap­py.’, No for­mal en­gage­ment was en­tered in­to, but the sit­ua­tion was pri­vate­ly un­der­stood as one which in time would nat­ural­ly de­vel­op. Af­ter the queen came to the throne, her let­ters show her in­ter­est in Al­bert’s be­ing ed­ucat­ed for the part he would have to play. In the win­ter of 1838-1839 the prince trav­elled in Italy, ac­com­pa­nied by Baron Stock­mar, for­mer­ly Leopold’s doc­tor and pri­vate sec­re­tary, and now the queen’s con­fi­den­tial ad­vis­er. On the 10th of Oc­to­ber 1839 he and Ernest went again to Eng­land to vis­it the queen, with the ob­ject of fi­nal­ly set­tling the mar­riage. Mu­tu­al in­cli­na­tion and af­fec­tion at once brought about the de­sired re­sult. They be­came def­inite­ly en­gaged on the 15th of Oc­to­ber, and on the 10th of Febru­ary 1840 the mar­riage was cel­ebrat­ed at the chapel-​roy­al, St James’s.

The po­si­tion in which the prince was placed by his mar­riage, while it was one of dis­tin­guished hon­our, was al­so one of con­sid­er­able dif­fi­cul­ty; and dur­ing his life­time the tact­ful way in which he filled it was very in­ad­equate­ly ap­pre­ci­at­ed. The pub­lic life of the prince-​con­sort can­not be sep­arat­ed from that of the queen, and it is un­nec­es­sary here to re­peat such de­tails as are giv­en in the ar­ti­cle on her (see VIC­TO­RIA, QUEEN.) The prej­udice against him, on ac­count of what was re­gard­ed as un­due in­flu­ence in pol­itics, was nev­er ful­ly dis­si­pat­ed till af­ter his death. His co-​op­er­ation with the queen in deal­ing with the po­lit­ical re­spon­si­bil­ities which de­volved up­on the sovereign rep­re­sent­ed an amount of con­sci­en­tious and self-​sac­ri­fic­ing labour which can­not eas­ily be ex­ag­ger­at­ed; and his wis­dom in coun­cil could on­ly be re­al­ized, out­side a very small cir­cle, when in lat­er years the ma­te­ri­als for the his­to­ry of that time be­came ac­ces­si­ble. He was in­deed a man of cul­tured and lib­er­al ideas, well qual­ified to take the lead in many re­forms which the Eng­land of that day sore­ly need­ed. He was spe­cial­ly in­ter­est­ed in en­deav­ours to se­cure the more per­fect ap­pli­ca­tion of sci­ence and art to man­ufac­tur­ing in­dus­try. The Great Ex­hi­bi­tion of 1851 orig­inat­ed in a sug­ges­tion he made at a meet­ing of the So­ci­ety of Arts, and owed the greater part of its suc­cess to his in­tel­li­gent and un­wea­ried ef­forts. He had to work for its re­al­iza­tion against an ex­traor­di­nary out­burst of an­gry ex­pos­tu­la­tions. Ev­ery stage in his project was com­bat­ed. In the House of Peers, Lord Brougham de­nied the right of the crown to hold the ex­hi­bi­tion in Hyde Park; in the Com­mons, Colonel Sibthorp proph­esied that Eng­land would be over­run with for­eign rogues and rev­olu­tion­ists, who would sub­vert the morals of the peo­ple, filch their trade se­crets from them, and de­stroy their faith and loy­al­ty to­wards their re­li­gion and their sovereign. Prince Al­bert was pres­ident of the ex­hi­bi­tion com­mis­sion, and ev­ery post brought him abu­sive let­ters, ac­cus­ing him, as a for­eign­er, of be­ing in­tent up­on the cor­rup­tion of Eng­land. He was not the man to be balked by talk of this kind, but qui­et­ly per­se­vered, look­ing al­ways to the prob­abil­ity that the man­ufac­tur­ing pow­er of Great Britain would be quick­ened by bring­ing the best man­ufac­tured prod­ucts of for­eign coun­tries un­der the eyes of the me­chan­ics and ar­ti­sans. A sense of the artis­tic was at this time al­most whol­ly want­ing among the En­glish peo­ple. One day the prince had a con­ver­sa­tion with a great man­ufac­tur­er of crock­ery, and sought to con­vert him to the idea of is­su­ing some­thing bet­ter than the eter­nal wil­low-​pat­tern in white with gold, red or blue, which formed the sta­ple of mid­dle and low­er class do­mes­tic chi­na. The man­ufac­tur­er held out that new shapes and de­signs would not be saleable; but he was in­duced to try, and he did so with such a rapid suc­cess that a rev­olu­tion in the chi­na cup­boards of Eng­land was ac­com­plished from that time. The ex­hi­bi­tion was opened by the queen on the 1st of May 1851, and was a colos­sal suc­cess; and the re­al­ized sur­plus of L. 150,000 went to es­tab­lish and en­dow the South Kens­ing­ton Mu­se­um (af­ter­wards re­named “Vic­to­ria and Al­bert”) and to pur­chase land in that neigh­bour­hood. Sim­ilar in­sti­tu­tions, On a small­er scale but with a kin­dred aim, al­ways found in him warm ad­vo­ca­cy and sub­stan­tial sup­port. It was chiefly at meet­ings in con­nex­ion with these that he found oc­ca­sion for the de­liv­ery of ad­dress­es char­ac­ter­ized by pro­found thought and com­pre­hen­sive­ness of view, a col­lec­tion of which was pub­lished in 1857. One of the most favourable spec­imens of his pow­ers as a speak­er is the in­au­gu­ral ad­dress which he de­liv­ered as pres­ident of the British As­so­ci­ation for the Ad­vance­ment of Sci­ence when it met at Ab­erdeen in 1859. The ed­uca­tion of his fam­ily and the man­age­ment of his do­mes­tic af­fairs fur­nished the prince with an­oth­er very im­por­tant sphere of ac­tion, in which he em­ployed him­self with con­sci­en­tious de­vot­ed­ness.

The es­tates of the duchy of Corn­wall, the hered­itary ap­panage of the prince of Wales, were so great­ly im­proved un­der his fa­ther’s man­age­ment that the rent-​roll rose from L. 11,000 to L. 50,000 a year. Prince Al­bert, in­deed, had a pe­cu­liar tal­ent for the man­age­ment of land­ed es­tates. His mod­el farm at Wind­sor was in ev­ery way wor­thy of the name; and the grounds at Bal­moral and Os­borne were laid out en­tire­ly in con­for­mi­ty with his de­signs.

A char­ac­ter so pure. and a life so use­ful and well-​di­rect­ed in all its aims, could scarce­ly fail to win re­spect among those who were ac­quaint­ed with the facts. As the prince be­came bet­ter known, pub­lic mis­trust be­gan to give way. In 1847, but on­ly af­ter a sig­nif­icant­ly keen con­test with Earl Powis, he was elect­ed chan­cel­lor of the uni­ver­si­ty of Cam­bridge; and he was af­ter­wards ap­point­ed mas­ter of the Trin­ity House. In June 1857 the for­mal ti­tle of prince-​con­sort was con­ferred up­on him by let­ters patent, in or­der to set­tle cer­tain dif­fi­cul­ties as to prece­dence that had been raised at for­eign courts.

But in the full ca­reer of his use­ful­ness he was cut off. Dur­ing the au­tumn of 1861 he was busy with the ar­range­ments for the pro­ject­ed in­ter­na­tion­al ex­hi­bi­tion, and it was just af­ter re­turn­ing from one of the meet­ings in con­nex­ion with it that he was seized with his last ill­ness. Be­gin­ning at the end of Novem­ber with what ap­peared to be in­fluen­za, it proved to be an at­tack of ty­phoid fever, and, con­ges­tion of the lungs su­per­ven­ing, he died on the 14th of De­cem­ber. The grief of the queen was over­whelm­ing and the sym­pa­thy of the whole na­tion marked a re­vul­sion of feel­ing about the prince him­self which was not de­void of com­punc­tion for ear­li­er want of ap­pre­ci­ation. The mag­nif­icent mau­soleum at Frog­more, in which his re­mains were fi­nal­ly de­posit­ed, was erect­ed at the ex­pense of the queen and the roy­al fam­ily; and many pub­lic mon­uments to “Al­bert the Good” were erect­ed all over the coun­try, the most no­table be­ing the Al­bert Hall (1867) and the Al­bert Memo­ri­al (1876) in Lon­don. His name was al­so com­mem­orat­ed in the queen’s in­sti­tu­tion of the Al­bert medal ( 1866) in re­ward for gal­lantry in sav­ing life, and of the or­der of Vic­to­ria and Al­bert (1862).

By the queen’s au­thor­ity, her sec­re­tary, Gen­er­al Grey, com­piled The Ear­ly Days of the Prince Con­sort, pub­lished in 1867; and The Life and Let­ters of the Prince Con­sort (ist vol., 1874; 2nd, 1880) mas sim­ilar­ly edit­ed by Sir Theodore Mar­tin. A vol­ume of the Prin­ci­pal Spec­ch­es and Ad­dress­es of Prince Al­bert, with an in­tro­duc­tion by Sir Arthur Helps, was pub­lished in 1862. See al­so the Let­ters of Queen Vic­to­ria (ioo7). (H. CH.)

AL­BERT I. (c. 1250-1308), Ger­man king, and duke of Aus­tria, el­dest son of King Rudolph I., the founder of the great­ness of the house of Hab­sburg, was in­vest­ed with the duchies of Aus­tria and Styr­ia, to­geth­er with his broth­er Rudolph, in 1282. In 1283 his fa­ther en­trust­ed him with their sole gov­ern­ment, and he ap­pears to have ruled them with con­spic­uous suc­cess. Rudolph was un­able to se­cure the suc­ces­sion to the Ger­man throne for his son, and on his death in 1291, the princes, fear­ing Al­bert’s pow­er, chose Adolph of Nas­sau as king. A ris­ing among his Swabi­an de­pen­dants com­pelled Al­bert to rec­og­nize the sovereign­ty of his ri­val, and to con­fine him­self to the gov­ern­ment of the Hab­sburg ter­ri­to­ries. He did not aban­don his hopes of the throne, and, in 1298, was cho­sen Ger­man king by some of the princes, who were dis­sat­is­fied with Adolph. The armies of the ri­val kings met at Goll­heim near Worms, where Adolph was de­feat­ed and slain, and Al­bert sub­mit­ted to a fresh elec­tion. Hav­ing se­cured the sup­port of sev­er­al in­flu­en­tial princes by ex­ten­sive promis­es, he was cho­sen at Frank­fort on the 27th of Ju­ly 1298, and crowned at Aix-​la-​Chapelle on the 24th of Au­gust fol­low­ing. Al­bert sought to play an im­por­tant part in Eu­ro­pean af­fairs. He seemed at first in­clined to press a quar­rel with France over the Bur­gun­di­an fron­tier, but the re­fusal of Pope Boni­face VI­II. to rec­og­nize his elec­tion led him to change his pol­icy, and, in 1299, a treaty was made be­tween Al­bert and Philip IV., king of France, by which Rudolph, the son of the Ger­man king, was to mar­ry Blanche, a daugh­ter of the French king. He af­ter­wards be­came es­tranged from Philip, and, in 1303, was rec­og­nized as Ger­man king and fu­ture em­per­or by Boni­face, and, in re­turn, ad­mit­ted the right of the pope alone to be­stow the im­pe­ri­al crown, and promised that none of his sons should be elect­ed Ger­man king with­out the pa­pal con­sent. Al­bert had failed in his at­tempt to seize Hol­land and Zealand, as va­cant fiefs of the Em­pire, on the death of Count John I. in 1299, but in 1306 he se­cured the crown of Bo­hemia for his son Rudolph on the death of King Wences­laus III. He al­so re­newed the claim which had been made by his pre­de­ces­sor, Adolf, on Thuringia, and in­ter­fered in a quar­rel over the suc­ces­sion to the Hun­gar­ian throne. His at­tack on Thuringia end­ed in his de­feat at Luc­ka in 1307, and, in the same year, the death of his son Rudolph weak­ened his po­si­tion in east­ern Eu­rope. His ac­tion in abol­ish­ing all tolls es­tab­lished on the Rhine since 1250, led to the for­ma­tion of a league against him by the Rhen­ish arch­bish­ops and the count pala­tine of the Rhine; but aid­ed by the towns, he soon crushed the ris­ing. He was on the way to sup­press a re­volt in Swabia when he was mur­dered on the 1st of May 1308, at Windisch on the Reuss, by his nephew John, af­ter­wards called “the Par­ri­cide,” whom he had de­prived of his in­her­itance. Al­bert mar­ried Eliz­abeth, daugh­ter of Mein­hard IV., count of Gorz and Tirol, who bore him six sons and five daugh­ters. Al­though a hard, stern man, he had a keen sense of jus­tice when his self­ish in­ter­ests were not in­volved, and few of the Ger­man kings pos­sessed so prac­ti­cal an in­tel­li­gence. He en­cour­aged the cities, and not con­tent with is­su­ing procla­ma­tions against pri­vate war, formed al­liances with the princes in or­der to en­force his de­crees. The serfs, whose wrongs sel­dom at­tract­ed no­tice in an age in­dif­fer­ent to the claims of com­mon hu­man­ity, found a friend in this se­vere monarch, and he pro­tect­ed even the de­spised and per­se­cut­ed Jews. The sto­ries of his cru­el­ty and op­pres­sion in the Swiss can­tons first ap­pear in the 16th cen­tu­ry, and are now re­gard­ed as leg­endary.

See G. Droy­sen, Al­brechts I. Be­muhun­gen um die Nach­folge im Re­ich (Leipzig, 1862); J. F. A. Mucke, Al­brecht I. von IIab­sburg (Gotha, 1865); A. L. J. Michelsen, Die Land­graf­schaft Thurin­gen unter den Koni­gen Adolf, Al­brecht, und Hein­rich VII. (Je­na, 1860).

AL­BERT II. (1397-1439), Ger­man king, king of Bo­hemia and Hun­gary, and (as Al­bert V.) duke of Aus­tria, was born on the 10th of Au­gust 1397, the son of Al­bert IV. of Hab­sburg, duke of Aus­tria. He suc­ceed­ed to the duchy of Aus­tria on his fa­ther’s death in 1404. Af­ter re­ceiv­ing a good ed­uca­tion, he un­der­took the gov­ern­ment of Aus­tria in 1411, and suc­ceed­ed, with the aid of his ad­vis­ers, in adding the duchy of the evils which had arisen dur­ing his mi­nor­ity. He as­sist­ed the Ger­man king, Sigis­mund, in his cam­paigns against the Hus­sites, and in 1422 mar­ried Eliz­abeth, daugh­ter and heiress of Sigis­mund, who des­ig­nat­ed him as his suc­ces­sor. When the Ger­man king died in 1437, Al­bert was crowned king of Hun­gary on the 1st of Jan­uary 1438, and al­though crowned king of Bo­hemia six months lat­er, he was un­able to ob­tain pos­ses­sion of the coun­try. He was en­gaged in war­fare with the Bo­hemi­ans and their Pol­ish al­lies, when on the 18th of March 1438 he was cho­sen Ger­man king at Frank­fort, an hon­our which he does not ap­pear to have sought. Af­ter­wards en­gaged in de­fend­ing Hun­gary against the at­tacks of the Turks, he died on the 27th of Oc­to­ber 1439 at Lan­gen­dorf, and was buried at Stuhlweis­senburg. Al­bert was an en­er­get­ic and war­like prince, whose short reign gave great promise of use­ful­ness lor Ger­many.

AL­BERT (1490-1545), elec­tor and arch­bish­op of Mainz, and arch­bish­op of Magde­burg, was the younger son of John Ci­cero, elec­tor of Bran­den­burg, and was born on the 28th of June 1490. Hav­ing stud­ied at the uni­ver­si­ty of Frank­fort-​on-​the-​Oder, he en­tered the ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal pro­fes­sion, and in 1513 be­came arch­bish­op of Magde­burg and ad­min­is­tra­tor of the dio­cese of Hal­ber­stadt. In 1514 he ob­tained the elec­torate of Mainz, and in 1518 was made a car­di­nal. Mean­while to pay for the pal­li­um of the see of Mainz and to dis­charge the oth­er ex­pens­es of his el­eva­tion, Al­bert had bor­rowed a large sum of mon­ey from the Fug­gers, and had ob­tained per­mis­sion from Pope Leo X. to con­duct the sale of in­dul­gences in his dio­cese to ob­tain funds to re­pay this loan. For this work he pro­cured the ser­vices of John Tet­zel, and so in­di­rect­ly ex­er­cised a po­tent in­flu­ence on the course of the Ref­or­ma­tion. When the im­pe­ri­al elec­tion of 1519 drew near, the elec­tor’s vote was ea­ger­ly so­licit­ed by the par­ti­sans of Charles (af­ter­wards the em­per­or Charles V.) and by those of Fran­cis I., king of France, and he ap­pears to have re­ceived a large amount of mon­ey for the vote which he cast even­tu­al­ly for Charles. Al­bert’s large and lib­er­al ideas, his friend­ship with Ul­rich von Hut­ten, and his po­lit­ical am­bi­tions, ap­pear to have raised hopes that he would be won over to the re­formed faith; but af­ter the Peas­ants’ War of 1525 he ranged him­self def­inite­ly among the sup­port­ers of Catholi­cism, and was among the princes who met to con­cert mea­sures for its de­fence at Dessau in Ju­ly 1525. His hos­til­ity to­wards the re­form­ers, how­ev­er, was not so ex­treme as that of his broth­er Joachim I., elec­tor of Bran­den­burg; and he ap­pears to have ex­ert­ed him­self in the in­ter­ests of peace, al­though he was a mem­ber of the league of Nurem­berg, which was formed in 1538 as a coun­ter­poise to the league of Schmal­ka­lden. The new doc­trines nev­er­the­less made con­sid­er­able progress in his do­min­ions, and he was com­pelled to grant re­li­gious lib­er­ty to the in­hab­itants of Magde­burg in re­turn for 500,000 florins. Dur­ing his lat­ter years in­deed he showed more in­tol­er­ance to­wards the Protes­tants, and favoured the teach­ing of the Je­suits in his do­min­ions. Al­bert adorned the Stiftiskirche at Halle and the cathe­dral at Mainz in sump­tu­ous fash­ion, and took as his mot­to the words Domine, dilexi decorem do­mus tu­ae. A gen­er­ous pa­tron of ait and learn­ing, he count­ed Eras­mus among his friends. He died at As­chaf­fen­burg on the 24th of Septem­ber 1545.

See I. H. Hennes, Al­brecht von Bran­den­burg, Erzbischofvon Mbinz und Magde­burg (Mai1iz, 1858); i. May, Der Kuri­urst, Kar­di­nal, und Erzbischof Al­brecht II. von Mainz unid Mogde­burg (Mu­nich, 1865–1875ai co. Schum, Kar­di­nal Al­brecht von Mainz und die Er­furter Kirchen­re­for­ma­tion (Halle, 1878); P. Redlich, Kar­di­nal Al­brecht von Bran­den­burg, und das neue Stift zu Halte (Mainz, 1900).

AL­BERT (1490-1568), Grand Mas­ter of the Teu­ton­ic Or­der, and first duke of Prus­sia, was the third son of Fred­er­ick of Ho­hen­zollern, prince of Ans­bach and Bayreuth, and Sophia, daugh­ter of Casimir IV., king of Poland. Born at Ans­bach on the 16th of May 1490, he was in­tend­ed for the church, and passed some time at the court of Her­mann, elec­tor of Cologne, who ap­point­ed him to a canon­ry in his cathe­dral. Turn­ing to a more ac­tive life, he ac­com­pa­nied the em­per­or Max­im­il­ian I. to Italy in 1508, and af­ter his re­turn spent some time in Hun­gary. In De­cem­ber, Fred­er­ick, grand mas­ter of the Teu­ton­ic Or­der, died, and Al­bert, join­ing the or­der, was cho­sen as his suc­ces­sor ear­ly in 1511 in the hope that his re­la­tion­ship to Sigis­mund I., king of Poland, would fa­cil­itate a set­tle­ment of the dis­putes over east Prus­sia, which had been held by the or­der un­der Pol­ish suzerain­ty since 1466. The new mas­ter, how­ev­er, showed no de­sire to be con­cil­ia­to­ry, and as war ap­peared in­evitable, he made stren­uous ef­forts to se­cure al­lies, and car­ried on te­dious ne­go­ti­ations with the em­per­or Max­im­il­ian I. The ill-​feel­ing, in­flu­enced by the rav­ages of mem­bers of the or­der in Poland, cul­mi­nat­ed in a strug­gle which be­gan in De­cem­ber 1519. Dur­ing the en­su­ing year Prus­sia was dev­as­tat­ed, and Al­bert con­sent­ed ear­ly in 1521 to a truce for four years. The dis­pute was re­ferred to the em­per­or Charles V. and oth­er princes, but as no set­tle­ment was reached the mas­ter con­tin­ued his ef­forts to ob­tain help in view of a re­new­al of the war. For this pur­pose he vis­it­ed Nurem­berg in 1522, where he made the ac­quain­tance of the re­former, An­dreas Os­ian­der, by whose in­flu­ence he was won over to the side of the new faith. He then jour­neyed to Wit­ten­berg, where he was ad­vised by Mar­tin Luther to cast aside the sense­less rules of his or­der, to mar­ry, and to con­vert Prus­sia in­to an hered­itary duchy for him­self. This pro­pos­al, which com­mend­ed it­self to Al­bert, had al­ready been dis­cussed by some of his rel­atives; but it was nec­es­sary to pro­ceed cau­tious­ly, and he as­sured Pope Adri­an VI. that he was anx­ious to re­form the or­der and pun­ish the knights who had adopt­ed Luther­an doc­trines. Luther for his part did not stop at the sug­ges­tion, but in or­der to fa­cil­itate the change made spe­cial ef­forts to spread his teach­ing among the Prus­sians, while Al­bert’s broth­er, George, prince of Ans­bach, laid the scheme be­fore Sigis­mund of Poland. Af­ter some de­lay the king as­sent­ed to it pro­vid­ed that Prus­sia were held as a Pol­ish fief; and af­ter this ar­range­ment had been con­firmed by a treaty made at Cra­cow, Al­bert was in­vest­ed with the duchy by Sigis­mund for him­self and his heirs on the 10th of Febru­ary 1525. The es­tates of the land then met at Konigs­berg and took the oath of al­le­giance to the new duke, who used his full pow­ers to for­ward the doc­trines of Luther. This tran­si­tion did not, how­ev­er, take place with­out protest. Sum­moned be­fore the im­pe­ri­al court of jus­tice, Al­bert re­fused to ap­pear and was placed un­der the ban; while the or­der, hav­ing de­posed the grand mas­ter, made a fee­ble ef­fort to re­cov­er Prus­sia. But as the Ger­man princes were ei­ther too busy or too in­dif­fer­ent to at­tack the duke, the ag­ita­tion against him soon died away. In im­pe­ri­al pol­itics Al­bert was fair­ly ac­tive. Join­ing the league of Tor­gau in 1526, he act­ed in­uni­son with the Protes­tants, and was among the princes who band­ed them­selves to­geth­er to over­throw Charles V. af­ter the is­sue of the In­ter­im in May 1548. For­var­ious rea­sons, how­ev­er, pover­ty and per­son­al in­cli­na­tion among oth­ers, he did not take a promi­nent part in the mil­itary op­er­ations of this pe­ri­od. The ear­ly years of Al­bert’s rule in Prus­sia were faidy pros­per­ous. Al­though he had some trou­ble with the peas­antry, the lands and trea­sures of the church en­abled him to pro­pi­ti­ate the no­bles and for a time to pro­vide for the ex­pens­es of the court. He did some­thing for the fur­ther­ance of learn­ing by es­tab­lish­ing schools in ev­ery town and by giv­ing priv­ileges to serfs who adopt­ed a scholas­tic life. In 1544, in spite of some op­po­si­tion, he found­ed a uni­ver­si­ty at Konigs­berg, where he ap­point­ed his friend Os­ian­der to a pro­fes­sor­ship in 1549. This step was the be­gin­ning of the trou­bles which cloud­ed the clos­ing years of Al­bert’s reign. Os­ian­der’s di­ver­gence from Luther’s doc­trine of jus­ti­fi­ca­tion by faith in­volved him in a vi­olent quar­rel with XIelanchthon, who had ad­her­ents in Konigs­berg, and these the­olog­ical dis­putes soon cre­at­ed an up­roar in the town. The duke stren­uous­ly sup­port­ed Os­ian­der, and the area of the quar­rel soon broad­ened. There were no longer church lands avail­able with which to con­cil­iate the no­bles, the bur­den of tax­ation was heavy, and Al­bert’s rule be­came un­pop­ular. Af­ter Os­ian­der’s death in 1552 he favoured a preach­er named John Funck, who, with an ad­ven­tur­er named Paul Scalich, ex­er­cised great in­flu­ence over him and ob­tained con­sid­er­able wealth at the pub­lic ex­pense. The state of tur­moil caused by these re­li­gious and po­lit­ical dis­putes was in­creased by the pos­si­bil­ity of Al­bert’s ear­ly death and the ne­ces­si­ty in that event for a re­gen­cy ow­ing to the youth of his on­ly son, Al­bert Fred­er­ick. The duke was con­se­quent­ly obliged to con­sent to a con­dem­na­tion of the teach­ing of Os­ian­der, and the cli­max came in 1566 when the es­tates ap­pealed to Sigis­mund II., king of Poland, who sent a com­mis­sion to Konigs­berg. Scalich saved his life by flight, but Funck was ex­ecut­ed; the ques­tion of the re­gen­cy was set­tled; and a form of Lutheranism was adopt­ed, and de­clared bind­ing on all teach­ers and preach­ers. Vir­tu­al­ly de­prived of pow­er, the duke lived for two years longer, and died at Tapi­au on the 20th of March 1568. In 1526 he had mar­ried Dorothea, daugh­ter of Fred­er­ick I., king of Den­mark, and af­ter her death in 1547, An­na Maria, daugh­ter of Er­ic I., duke of Brunswick. Al­bert was a vo­lu­mi­nous let­ter­writ­er, and cor­re­spond­ed with many of the lead­ing per­son­ages of the time. In 1891 a stat­ue was erect­ed to his mem­ory at Konigs­berg.

See J. Voigt, Briefwech­sel der beruhmtest­ed Gelehrten des Zeital­ters der Ref­or­ma­tion mit Her­zog Al­brecht von Preussen (Konigs­berg, 1841); E. Joachim, Die Poli­tik des let­zten Hochmeis­ters in Preussen, Al­brecht von Bran­den­burg (Leipzig, 1892); K. Lohmey­er, Her­zog Al­brecht von Preussen (Danzig, 1890).

AL­BERT III. ( 1443-1500), duke of Sax­ony, sur­named AN­IMO­SUS or THE COURA­GEOUS, younger son of Fred­er­ick II., the Mild, elec­tor and duke of Sax­ony, was born on the 27th of Jan­uary 1443, and af­ter es­cap­ing from the hands of Kunz von Kau­fun­gen, who had ab­duct­ed him to­geth­er with his broth­er Ernest, passed some time at the court of the em­per­or Fred­er­ick III. in Vi­en­na. In 1464 he mar­ried Ze­de­na, or Sido­nia, daugh­ter of George Pode­brad, king of Bo­hemia, but failed to ob­tain the Bo­hemi­an Crown on the death of George in 1471. Af­ter the death of the elec­tor Fred­er­ick in 1464, Al­bert and Ernest ruled their lands to­geth­er, but in 1485 a di­vi­sion was made by the treaty of Leipzig, and Al­bert re­ceived Meis­sen, to­geth­er,with some ad­join­ing dis­tricts, and found­ed the Al­ber­tine branch of the fam­ily of Wet­tin. Re­gard­ed as a ca­pa­ble sol­dier by the em­per­or, Al­bert, in 1475, took a promi­nent part in the cam­paign against Charles the Bold, duke of Bur­gundy, and in 1487 led an ex­pe­di­tion against Matthias Corv­inus, king of Hun­gary, which failed ow­ing to lack of sup­port on the part of the em­per­or. In 1488 he marched with the im­pe­ri­al forces to free the Ro­man king Max­im­il­ian from his im­pris­on­ment at Bruges, and when, in 1489, the king re­turned to Ger­many, Al­bert was left as his rep­re­sen­ta­tive to pros­ecute the war against the rebels. He was suc­cess­ful in restor­ing the au­thor­ity of Max­im­il­ian in Hol­land, Flan­ders and Bra­bant, but failed to ob­tain any re­pay­ment of the large sums of mon­ey which he had spent in these cam­paigns. His ser­vices were re­ward­ed in 1498 when Max­im­il­ian be­stowed up­on him the ti­tle of hered­itary gov­er­nor (pote­stat) of Fries­land, but he had to make good his claim by force of arms. He had to a great ex­tent suc­ceed­ed, and was pay­ing a vis­it to Sax­ony, when he was re­called by news of a fresh ris­ing. Gronin­gen was cap­tured, but soon af­ter­wards the duke died at Em­den, on the 12th of Septem­ber 1500. He was buried at Meis­sen. Al­bert, who was a man of great strength and con­sid­er­able skill in feats of arms, de­light­ed in tour­na­ments and knight­ly ex­er­cis­es. His loy­al­ty to the em­per­or Fred­er­ick, and the ex­pens­es in­curred in this con­nex­ion, aroused some ir­ri­ta­tion among his sub­jects, but his rule was a pe­ri­od of pros­per­ity in Sax­ony.

See F. A. von Lan­genn, Her­zog Al­brecht der Be­herzte, Stam­mvater des koniglichen IIaus­es Sach­sen (Leipzig, 1838); O. Sper­ling, Her­zog Al­brecht der Be­herzte von Sach­sen als Gu­ber­na­tor Fries­lands (Leipzig, 1892).

AL­BERT, FRED­ER­ICK AU­GUS­TUS, king of Sax­ony (18281902), was born on the 23rd of April 1828, be­ing the el­dest son of Prince John, who suc­ceed­ed to the throne in 1854. His ed­uca­tion was, as is usu­al with Ger­man princes, to a great ex­tent mil­itary, but he at­tend­ed lec­tures at the uni­ver­si­ty of Bonn. His first ex­pe­ri­ence of war­fare was in 1849,’when he served as a cap­tain in the cam­paign of Schleswig-​Hol­stein against the Danes. When the war of 1866 broke out, the crown-​prince was placed in com­mand of the Sax­on forces op­pos­ing the Prus­sian army of Prince Fred­er­ick Charles. No at­tempt was made to de­fend Sax­ony; the Sax­ons fell back in­to Bo­hemia and ef­fect­ed a junc­tion with the Aus­tri­ans. They took a promi­nent part in the bat­tles by which the Prus­sians forced the line of the Is­er and in the bat­tle of Gitchin. The crown-​prince, how­ev­er, suc­ceed­ed in ef­fect­ing the re­treat in good or­der, and in the de­ci­sive bat­tle of Konig­gratz (see SEV­EN WEEKS’ WAR) he held the ex­treme loft of the Aus­tri­an po­si­tion. The Sax­ons main­tained their post with great tenac­ity, but were in­volved in the dis­as­trous de­feat of their al­lies. Dur­ing these op­er­ations the crown-​prince won the rep­uta­tion of a thor­ough sol­dier; af­ter peace was made and Sax­ony had en­tered the North Ger­man con­fed­er­ation, he was placed in com­mand of the Sax­on army, which had now be­come the XII. army corps of the North Ger­man army, and in this po­si­tion car­ried out the nec­es­sary re­or­ga­ni­za­tion. He was a firm ad­her­ent of the Prus­sian al­liance. On the out­break of war in 1870 he again com­mand­ed the Sax­ons, who were in­clud­ed in the 2nd army un­der Prince Fred­er­ick Charles, his old op­po­nent. At the bat­tle of Grav­elotte they formed the ex­treme left of the Ger­man army, and with the Prus­sian Guard car­ried out the at­tack on St Pri­vat, the fi­nal and de­ci­sive ac­tion in the bat­tle. In the re­or­ga­ni­za­tion of the army which ac­com­pa­nied the march to­wards Paris the crown-​prince was giv­en a sep­arate com­mand over the 4th army (army of the Meuse) con­sist­ing of the Sax­ons, the Prus­sian Guard corps and the IV. (Prus­sian Sax­ony) corps. He was suc­ceed­ed in com­mand of the XII. corps by his broth­er Prince George, who had served un­der him in Bo­hemia. He took a lead­ing part in the op­er­ations which pre­ced­ed the bat­tle of Sedan, the 4th army be­ing the piv­ot on which the whole army wheeled round in pur­suit of Macma­hon; and the ac­tions of Buzan­cy and Beau­mont on the 29th and 30th of Au­gust were fought un­der his di­rec­tion; in the bat­tle of Sedan it­self, with the troops un­der his or­ders, he car­ried out the en­vel­op­ment of the French on the east and north. His con­duct in these en­gage­ments won for him the com­plete con­fi­dence of the army, and dur­ing the siege of Paris his troops formed the north-​east sec­tion of the in­vest­ing force. Af­ter the con­clu­sion of the armistice he was left in com­mand of the Ger­man army of oc­cu­pa­tion, a po­si­tion which he held till the fall of the Com­mune. On the con­clu­sion of peace he was made an in­spec­tor-​gen­er­al of the army and field-​mar­shal. On the death of his fa­ther on the 29th of Oc­to­ber 1873 he suc­ceed­ed to the throne. His reign was un­event­ful, and he took lit­tle pub­lic part in pol­itics, de­vot­ing him­self to mil­itary af­fairs, in which his ad­vice and ex­perielice were of the great­est val­ue, not on­ly to the Sax­on corps but to the Ger­man army in gen­er­al. In 1897 he was ap­point­ed ar­bi­tra­tor be­tween the claimants for the prin­ci­pal­ity of Lippe. King Al­bert mar­ried in 1853 Car­ola, daugh­ter of Prince Gus­tavus of Vasa, and grand­daugh­ter of the last king of Swe­den of the house of Hol­stein. He died on the 19th of June 1902.

AL­BERT, sur­named THE DE­GEN­ER­ATE (c. 1240-1314), land­grave of Thuringia, was the el­dest son of Hen­ry III., the Il­lus­tri­ous, mar­grave of Meis­sen. He mar­ried Mar­garet, daugh­ter of the em­per­or Fred­er­ick II., in 1254, and in 1265 re­ceived from his fa­ther Thuringia and the Sax­on palati­nate. His in­fat­ua­tion for Ku­ni­gunde of Eisen­berg caused his wife to leave him, and af­ter her death in 1270 he mar­ried Ku­ni­gunde, who had al­ready borne him a son, Apitz or Al­bert. He wished to make Apitz his suc­ces­sor in Thuringia, a plan which was re­sist­ed by his two el­der sons, and a war broke out which last­ed un­til 1307, when he aban­doned Thuringia, in re­turn for a year­ly pay­ment, but re­tained the ti­tle of land­grave (see THURINGIA.) Al­bert, who had mar­ried Eliz­abeth, daugh­ter of Her­mann III., count of Or­la­munde, af­ter the death of his sec­ond wife in 1286, died on the 13th of Novem­ber 1314.

See F. X. Wegele, Friedrich der Friedi­ge, Mark­graf von Meis­sen, und die Wet­tin­er sein­er Zeit (Nordlin­gen, 1820); F. W. Tittmann, Geschichte Heinirich des Er­laucht­en Mark­graven zu Meis­sen (Leipzig, 1863).

AL­BERT (FRIEDRICH RUDOLF AL­BRECHT), ARCH­DUKE (1817-1895), Aus­tri­an field-​mar­shal, was the el­dest son of the arch­duke Charles (Karl Friedrich), and was born on the 3rd of Au­gust 1817 at Vi­en­na. Af­ter be­ing ed­ucat­ed un­der the care­ful su­per­in­ten­dence of his fa­ther, he en­tered the Aus­tri­an (H.K.) army as a colonel of in­fantry in 1837, and was trans­ferred to the cav­al­ry arm in 1839, be­com­ing a ma­jor-​gen­er­al in 1840. A brief pe­ri­od of leave in this year he spent at the great n:an0-uvres in Italy, to learn the art of troop-​lead­ing from the first sol­dier in Eu­rope, Radet­zky. He then took over the com­mand of a brigade of all arms at Graz. In 1844 he mar­ried Trincess Hilde­garde of Bavaria. He had been made a lieu­tenant field-​mar­shal in the pre­vi­ous year, and was now placed in com­mand of the forces in Up­per and Low­er Aus­tria. In this po­si­tion he did much to main­tain and im­prove the ef­fi­cien­cy of the troops un­der his com­mand, at a time when near­ly all armies in Eu­rope, with the ex­cep­tion of Radet­zky’s in Italy, had sunk to the low­est lev­el. The in­flu­ence of Radet­zky over the young arch­duke was in­deed re­mark­able. At this time the Aus­tri­an gen­er­als and staff of­fi­cers had com­mit­ted them­selves blind­ly to the strate­gi­cal method of the arch­duke Charles, the tra­di­tion of whose prac­ti­cal sol­dier­ship sur­vived on­ly in Radet­zky and a few oth­ers. Al­bert chose to fol­low the lat­ter, and was thus saved from the pseu­do­sci­en­tif­ic pedantry which brought de­feat to the Aus­tri­an arms in 1359 and in 1866. His first se­ri­ous ser­vice came in March 1848, when it be­came his du­ty, as dis­trict com­man­der, to main­tain or­der in Vi­en­na by force, and at the out­break of rev­olu­tion in Vi­en­na dur­ing the month of March he was in com­mand of the troops who came in­to col­li­sion with the ri­ot­ers. Ow­ing to the col­lapse of the gov­ern­ment it was im­pos­si­ble to re­press the dis­tur­bances, and he was re­lieved from a post which brought much un­pop­ular­ity and was not suit­able to be held by a mem­ber of the im­pe­ri­al fam­ily. He went at once to the seat of war in Italy, and fought un­der Radet­zky as a vol­un­teer through­out the cam­paign of 1848, be­ing present at the ac­tion of bas­tren­go and the bat­tles of San­ta Lu­cia and Cus­toz­za. In the fol­low­ing cam­paign he ap­plied for and ob­tained the com­mand of a di­vi­sion in the II. corps (FZM. d’As­pre), though his pre­vi­ous grade had been that of a gen­er­al com­mand­ing-​in-​chief. The splen­did fight­ing of the corps at No­vara was de­ci­sive of the war, and Radet­zky named d’As­pre, Count Thurn, and the arch­duke as the gen­er­al of­fi­cers wor­thy of the great­est re­wards. The field-​mar­shal in­deed rec­om­mend­ed, and al­most in­sist­ed, that Al­bert should re­ceive the much-​prized or­der of Maria There­sa. In 1850 he be­came a gen­er­al of cav­al­ry, and in 1851 mil­itary and civ­il gov­er­nor of Hun­gary. In this im­por­tant and dif­fi­cult po­si­tion he re­mained un­til 1860, when he was re­lieved at his own re­quest. Short­ly af­ter­wards he was ap­point­ed to suc­ceed Radet­zky as com­man­der-​in-​chief in Italy, and in 1863 he was pro­mot­ed field-​mar­shal. In the fol­low­ing year the arch­duke lost his wife, soon af­ter the mar­riage of their el­der daugh­ter to Duke Philip of Wurt­tem­berg. In 1859 and 1864 he was sent on im­por­tant mil­itary and diplo­mat­ic mis­sions to Berlin. When war be­came im­mi­nent in 1866, the arch­duke took com­mand of the field army in Italy. The sto­ry of the cam­paign of 1866 in Italy will be found un­der ITAL­IAN WARS (1848-1870); the op­er­ations of the arch­duke, who dis­posed of great­ly in­fe­ri­or forces, were crowned with suc­cess in the bril­liant vic­to­ry of Cus­toz­za (June 23), and his rep­uta­tion as a gen­er­al-​in-​chief was firm­ly es­tab­lished by on­ly eight days of field op­er­ations, though it is pos­si­ble that his chief of staff, Lieut. Field-​Mar­shal von John, con­tribut­ed not a lit­tle to the suc­cess of the Aus­tri­an arms. The re­sult of Cus­toz­za was the re­treat and com­plete im­mo­bi­liza­tion of the whole Ital­ian army, so that Al­bert was able to despatch the greater part of his troops to re­in­force the Bo­hemi­an army, when, af­ter be­ing de­feat­ed by the Prus­sians, it fell back on Vi­en­na. On the 10th of Ju­ly the arch­duke was sum­moned to Vi­en­na to take supreme com­mand of the forces which were be­ing col­lect­ed to de­fend the cap­ital, but peace was made be­fore fur­ther hos­til­ities took place. From this time, un­der var­ious ti­tles, he act­ed as in­spec­tor-​gen­er­al of the army. Like his fa­ther, and with bet­ter for­tune, he was called up­on to re­or­ga­nize the mil­itary sys­tem of his coun­try on an en­tire­ly new pi­an, learned, as be­fore, by de­feat. The prin­ci­ple of uni­ver­sal short ser­vice, and the the­ory of the armed na­tion, were nec­es­sar­ily the ground­work of the re­forms, and the con­se­quent prepa­ra­tion of all the na­tion­al re­sources for their task in war, by the su­per­in­ten­dence of peace ad­min­is­tra­tion, by the skil­ful con­duct of man0-uvres, was thence­for­ward the task of his life­time. In 1870 he con­duct­ed the mil­itary ne­go­ti­atio:1s prepara­to­ry to an al­liance with France, which, how­ev­er, was not con­clud­ed. The trag­ic death of his daugh­ter, Princess Mathilde, in 1867, and the death of his broth­er, Arch­duke Karl Fer­di­nand, in 1874, nar­rowed still fur­ther his fam­ily cir­cle, and im­pelled him to even greater ac­tiv­ity in his mil­itary du­ties, and to ef­fec­tive par­tic­ipa­tion in the work of many mil­itary char­ities. IUe re­tained per­son­al con­trol of the army un­til his last ill­ness, which he con­tract­ed at the fu­ner­al of his nephew Fran­cis, ex-​king of Naples. His on­ly re­main­ing broth­er, the arch­duke Wil­helm, had died a few months be­fore, as the re­sult of an ac­ci­dent. He him­self died on the 18th of Febru­ary 1895. His on­ly son died in child­hood, and his nephew Arch­duke Fred­er­ick (born 1856) in­her­it­ed his great pos­ses­sions, in­clud­ing the Al­berti­na, a fa­mous col­lec­tion of books, manuscripts, en­grav­ings and maps, found­ed by Duke Al­bert of Saxe-​Teschen.

Amongst the mil­itary works of the Arch­duke Al­bert may be named Uber die Ve­rant­wor­llichkeil im Kriege (a work which cre­at­ed a great sen­sa­tion, and was trans­lat­ed in­to En­glish and French), Gledanken uber dem Mil­itargeist, Uber die ho­here Heitung im Kriege, and Kri­tis­che Be­tra­ch­tunger uber den Feldzug 1866 in Ital­ien. He al­so was the prin­ci­pal ed­itor of the mil­itary works of his fa­ther.

See Dunck­er, F. M. Erzher­zog Al­brecht (Vi­en­na and Prague, 189; Math­es v. Bi­labruck, “Gedenkrede auf Wei­land Sr. K. u. K. H. Erzh. Al­brecht,” Mil.-Wis­senschaftl. Vere­in, 1895; Teu­ber, F. M. Erzh. Al­brecht, ein Lebens­bild (Vi­en­na, 1895).

AL­BERT, MADAME (c. 1805-1846), French ac­tress, whose maid­en name was Theresc Ver­net, was born of a fam­ily of play­ers. She first ap­peared in chil­dren’s and in­ge­nile parts, and in com­ic opera, and it was not un­til 1827, two years af­ter her Paris de­but, that her great tal­ents were seen and ap­pre­ci­at­ed. In Caleb Valen­tine, Hen­ry V., Madame Dubar­ry, Cather­ine II., Leon­tine,, Un du­el sous le car­di­nal de Riche­lieu, and many oth­er plays, her grace, beau­ty and dis­tinc­tion of man­ner made her the idol of Paris, and her cir­cle of ad­mir­ers was widened by long tours of the provinces and abroad. Ill-​health com­pelled her to re­tire in 1846. She was twice mar­ried, about 1825 to Al­bert Ro­drigues, an ac­tor who played un­der his Chris­tian name, and in 1846 to Eu­gene Bignon (1812-1858), the ac­tor and play­wright.

AL­BERT OF AIX (fl. c. A.D. 1100), his­to­ri­an of the first cru­sade, was born dur­ing the lat­er part of the 11th cen­tu­ry, and af­ter­wards be­came canon and cus­tos of the church of Aix-​la-​Chapelle. Noth­ing else is known of his life ex­cept that he was the au­thor of a His­to­ria Hi­erosolymi­tanae ex­pe­di­tio­nis, or Chron­icon Hi­erosolymi­tanum de bel­lo sacro, a work in twelve books, writ­ten be­tween 1125 and 1150. This his­to­ry be­gins at the time of the coun­cil of Cler­mont, deals with the for­tunes of the first cru­sade and the ear­li­er his­to­ry of the Latin king­dom of Jerusalem, and ends some­what abrupt­ly in 1121. It was well known dur­ing the mid­dle ages, and was large­ly used by William, arch­bish­op of Tyre, for the first six books of his Bel­li sac­ri his­to­ria. In mod­ern times its his­tor­ical val­ue has been se­ri­ous­ly im­pugned, but the ver­dict of the best schol­ar­ship seems to be that in gen­er­al it forms a true record of the events of the first cru­sade, al­though con­tain­ing some leg­endary mat­ter. Al­bert nev­er vis­it­ed the Holy Land, but he ap­pears to have had a con­sid­er­able amount of in­ter­course with re­turned cru­saders, and to have had ac­cess to valu­able cor­re­spon­dence. The first edi­tion of the his­to­ry was pub­lished at Helm­stadt in 1584, and a good edi­tion is in the Re­cueil des his­to­riens des croisades, tome iv. (Paris, 1841-1887).

See F. Krebs, Zur Kri­tik Al­berts von Aachen (Mun­ster, 1881); B. Ku­gler, Al­bert von Aachen (Stuttgart, 1885); M. Fi­geon­neau, Le Cy­cle de la croisade et de la famine de Bouil­lon (Paris, 1877); H. von Sybel, Geschichte des er­sten Kreuz­zuges (Leipzig, 1881): F. Ver­cruysse, Es­sai cri­tique sur la chronique d’Al­bert d’Aix (Liege, 1889).

AL­BER­TA, a province of west­ern Cana­da, es­tab­lished in 1905. Area 260,000 sq. m. It is bound­ed S. by the Unit­ed States bound­ary line, 49 deg. N.; E. by 110 deg. W., vhich di­vides it from the province of Saskatchewan; N. by 60 deg. N., which sep­arates it from the North-​West Ter­ri­to­ries; and W. by the line of peaks of the Rocky Moun­tains range, vhich runs north­west­er­ly, and di­vides it from British Columbia. A fer­tile province, in the east­ern and south­ern por­tions its sur­face con­sists chiefly of plains al­most en­tire­ly tree­less. As the slopes of the Rocky Moun­tains to the west are reached 1rore trees are found, un­til in the foot-​hills of the moun­tains bcdies of for­est tim­ber oc­cur. Trees be­come more nu­mer­ous al­so north­ward in the province, un­til in the re­gion north of the North Saskatchewan riv­er forests are again met with.. From the south­ern bound­ary line for two and a half de­grees north the prairie is dry, but of good soil, which grows ex­cel­lent crops when ir­ri­gat­ed. North of this re­gion the sur­face of the province is of itost fer­tile soil, the or­di­nary rain­fall suf­fic­ing for agri­cul­ture. The ap­pear­ance of the prairie sec­tion of the province is that cf un­du­lat­ing mead­ows, with round­ed slop­ing ridges cov­ered with short­er . grass­es, which serve for the sup­port of great herds of cat­tle and hors­es. The.wood­ed por­tions of the ter­rain are dot­ted with clumps and belts of trees of mod­er­ate size, giv­ing them a park­like ap­pear­ance. In win­ter the snow­fall is very light, and even this is fre­quent­ly re­moved by warm winds from the west. With­in a hun­dred miles of the moun­tains there is con­stan­lly in view, in clear weath­er, the beau­ti­ful line of snowy peaks along the west­ern hori­zon. This con­tin­ues for hun­dreds of miles north-​west­ward. The Rocky Moun­tains, vhich give its charm to Al­ber­ta, are as­cend­ed by a grad­ual ap­proach from the east, but are ex­ceed­ing­ly abrupt on their transalpine slope in British Columbia. The peaks of these moun­tains are 1ra­jes­tic, many of them reach­ing a height of more than two niles above the sea. Among the more no­table of these are Lcb­scn peak, 13,700 ft.; Athabas­ca, 13,700; Assini­boine, 11,8s0; Fyell, 12,000; Mum­mery, 12,000; Tem­ple, 11,658; and Geikie, 11,000. Mt. Brown reach­es 9050.

Through these Rocky Moun­tains the ex­plor­ers and fur­traders, by as­cend­ing the streams run­ning down the east­ern de­cliv­ities of the moun­tains, and cross­ing by short portages to the streams of the west­ern slope, have suc­ceed­ed in dis­cov­er­ing pass­es by which the moun­tain chain can be crossed, the range rarely ex­ceed­ing 60 m. in breadth. The most not­ed of the Al­ber­ta pass­es are (1) the Crow’s Nest Pass, near the south­ern bound­ary line, through which a branch of the Cana­di­an I,acif­ic’ rail­way runs; (2) the Kick­ing Horse Pass, through which the main line of the Cana­di­an Pa­cif­ic rail­way is built; 80 m. from the east­ern end of this pass is the Rocky Moun­tains Park, with the fa­mous wa­ter­ing-​place of Banff as its cen­tre; (3) the Yel­low Head Pass, run­ning west from the north­ern branch of the Saskatchewan riv­er; this pass was dis­cov­ered by Capt. Pal­lise1 (1858), was crossed by Lord Mil­ton and Dr W. B. Chea­dle (1861), and by Sand­ford Flem­ing (1871-1872) in the Ocean to Ocean ex­pe­di­tion; (4) Peace Riv­er Pass. By this pass Alexan­der Macken­zie made his cel­ebrat­ed voy­age. There are oth­er mi­nor pass­es, and no doubt more to be dis­cov­ered.

With the ex­cep­tion of the south­ern sec­tion, the province of Al­ber­ta may be said to be well wa­tered. Ris­ing from nu­mer­ous val­leys on the Al­ber­ta de­cliv­ity of the Rocky Moun­tains be­tween the in­ter­na­tion­al bound­ary line and 52 deg. N. are streams which unite to form the Bel­ly riv­er, and far­ther north the Bow riv­er. Run­ning east­ward these two rivers unite about 112 deg. W;, and flow on un­der the name of the South Saskatchewan riv­er. North of 52 deg. N. many small streams unite to form the Red Deer riv­er, which flow­ing south-​east­ward joins the South Saskatchewan near 110 deg. W. Be­tween 52 deg. and 53 deg. N. ris­es the great riv­er, the North Saskatchewan. It re­ceives a south­ern trib­utary, the Bat­tle riv­er, which joins it about 108 deg. W. Pur­su­ing their cours­es east­ward the North and South Saskatchewan rivers unite in the Saskatchewan (Cree, rapid-​flow­ing riv­er), which finds its way to Lake Win­nipeg, and thence by way of Nel­son riv­er to Hud­son Bay. It is one of the might­iest rivers of the con­ti­nent.

Be­tween 53 deg. and 54 deg. N. be­gins the height of land run­ning north-​east­er­ly, north of which all the wa­ters of Al­ber­ta flow to­ward the Arc­tic Sea. In north­ern Al­ber­ta, on the north­ern slope, gath­er­ing its trib­utaries from rills in the Rocky Moun­tains, the riv­er Athabas­ca runs north and emp­ties in­to Lake Athabas­ca near 58 deg. N. North of 56 deg. N. flows through and from the Rocky Moun­tains the Peace riv­er. Af­ter de­scend­ing north-​east­ward to with­in a few miles of Lake Athabas­ca, it is met by a stream emerg­ing from that lake. The unit­ed riv­er car­ry­ing down the wa­ters of the Athabas­ca slope is called the Slave riv­er, which, pass­ing through Great Slave Lake, emerges as the great Macken­zie riv­er, which falls in­to the Arc­tic Sea. Al­ber­ta thus gives rise to the two great rivers Saskatchewan and Macken­zie. While a num­ber of fresh-​wa­ter, or in some cas­es brack­ish, lakes each less than 100 sq. m. in ex­tent are sit­uat­ed in Al­ber­ta, two of more con­sid­er­able size are found. These are Lake Athabas­ca, 3085 sq. m. in ex­tent, of which a part is in the province of Saskatchewan, and the oth­er Less­er Slave Lake some 600 sq. m. in area.

Cli­mate.–As Al­ber­ta ex­tends for 750 m. from north to south—as great a dis­tance as from Land’s End in Eng­land to the north of the Shet­land Isles–it is nat­ural that the cli­mate should vary con­sid­er­ably be­tween par­al­lels of 40 deg. and 60 deg. N.. and al­so be­tween 110 deg. and 120 deg. W. It is al­so fur­ther in­flu­enced by the dif­fer­ent al­ti­tudes above the sea of the sev­er­al parts of the province. Di­vid­ing the province in­to three equal parts of 250 m. each from north to south, these may be called (A) the south, (B) the cen­tre, (C) the north. The fol­low­ing da­ta may be con­sid­ered:–

CLI­MAT­IC TA­BLE Cli­mate Places Above the Sea Mean Win­ter Temp (A) Mod­er­ate and Medicine Hat, 2171 ft. 14.3 deg. F. change­able lat. 50 deg. N. Cal­gary, lat. 51 deg. 3432 ” 15.4 deg. ” Banff, lat. 51 1/2 deg. 4515 ” 15.9 deg. ” (B) Steady Ed­mon­ton, lat. 53 1/2 deg. 2210 ” 10.3 deg. ” (C) Se­vere Fort Chipewyan, lat. 600 ” 7.2 deg. ” lat. 59 deg. N.

Cli­mate (A) al­lows, in what is a great ranch­ing dis­trict, cat­tle and hors­es to run at large through the whole win­ter. Through the moun­tain pass­es come at times dry winds from the Pa­cif­ic coast, which lick up the snow in a few hours. These winds are known as Chi­nook winds. While el­evat­ing the tem­per­ature they bring more mois­ture in­to the air and pro­duce a change not en­tire­ly de­sir­able.

Cli­mate (B) is the steady win­ter cli­mate of Ed­mon­ton dis­trict. This while av­er­ag­ing a low­er tem­per­ature than (A) is not so sub­ject to change; it re­tains the snow for sleigh­ing, which is a boon to the farmer. This cli­mate is much less in­flu­enced by the Pa­cif­ic winds than (A).

Cli­mate (C), that of Fort Chipewyan, hav­ing a mean win­ter tem­per­ature of 22.6 deg. low­er than Cal­gary, is a de­cid­ed­ly sub-​arc­tic cli­mate. It is the re­gion in win­ter of con­stant ice and snow, but its low­er al­ti­tude gives it a sum­mer cli­mate with a mean tem­per­ature of on­ly 1.6 deg. less than Cal­gary, and 1.8 deg. less than Ed­mon­ton. It will thus be seen that the agri­cul­tur­al ca­pa­bil­ities of the Athabas­ca and Peace riv­er dis­tricts, not yet ful­ly known, are full of promise.

Fau­na.–The three cli­mat­ic re­gions of Al­ber­ta have nat­ural­ly a vary­ing fau­na. The south and cen­tral re­gion was the land of the bi­son, its grass­es af­ford­ing a great pas­ture ground for tens of thou­sands of “buf­faloes.” They were de­stroyed by whites and In­di­ans in 1870-1882 on the ap­proach of the Cana­di­an Pa­cif­ic rail­way. Griz­zly, black and cin­na­mon bears are, found in the moun­tains and wood­ed dis­tricts. The coy­ote or small wolf, here and there the grey wolf, the fox and the moun­tain li­on (pan­ther) oc­cur. The moose and red deer are found in the wood­ed re­gions, and the jump­ing deer and an­te­lope on the prairies. Wild sheep and goats live in the Rocky Moun­tains. The lynx, wolver­ine, por­cu­pine, skunk, hare, squir­rel and mouse are met. The go­pher is a res­ident of the dry plains. Dis­trict (C) is the fur-​trad­er’s par­adise. The buf­fa­lo is re­placed by the moun­tain buf­faloes, of which a few sur­vive. The musk-​ox comes in thou­sands ev­ery year to the great north­ern lakes, while the mink, marten, beaver, ot­ter, er­mine and musk-​rat are sought by the fur-​trad­er. Fort Chipewyan was long known in Hud­son’s Bay Com­pa­ny his­to­ry as the great de­pot of the Macken­zie riv­er dis­trict. North­ern Al­ber­ta and the re­gion far­ther north is the nest­ing-​ground of the mi­gra­to­ry birds. Here vast num­bers of ducks, geese, swans and pel­icans re­sort ev­ery year. Cranes, par­tridges and va­ri­eties of singing birds abound. The ea­gle, hawk, owl and crow are plen­ti­ful. Mosquitoes and flies are ev­ery­where, and the wasp and wild bee al­so. In the rivers and lakes pike, pick­er­el, white fish and stur­geon sup­ply food for the na­tives, and the brook trout is found in the small moun­tain streams. The tur­tle and frog al­so ap­pear.

Flo­ra.–In cen­tral and north­ern Al­ber­ta the open­ing spring brings in the prairie anemone, the avens and oth­er ear­ly flow­ers. The ad­vanc­ing sum­mer in­tro­duces many flow­ers of the sun­flow­er fam­ily, un­til in Au­gust the plains are one blaze of yel­low and pur­ple. The south­ern part of Al­ber­ta is cov­ered by a short grass, very nu­tri­tive, but dry­ing up in the mid­dle of sum­mer un­til the whole prairie is brown and unattrac­tive. The trees in the wood­ed sec­tions of the province are seen in clumps and belts on the hill sides. These are large­ly de­cid­uous. On the north side of the Saskatchewan riv­er forests pre­vail for scores and even hun­dreds of miles. They con­tain the poplar Or as­pen (Pop­ulus tremu­loides), bal­sam poplar (Pop­ulus bal­sam­ifera), and pa­per or ca­noe birch (Fe­tu­la pa­pyrifera.) The Conifer­ae are found north­ward and in the moun­tain val­leys. Some of these are: Jack pine (Pi­nus Banksiana), Rocky Moun­tain pine (Pi­nus flex­ilis), black pine (Pi­nus Mur­rayana), white spruce (Picea al­ba), black spruce (Picea ni­gra), En­gel­man’s spruce (Picea En­gel­man­ni), moun­tain bal­sam (Abies sub­alpina), Dou­glas fir (Pseu­dot­suga Dou­glasii), moun­tain larch (Lar­ix Lyal­lis.)

Pop­ula­tion.–By the cen­sus of 1906 the pop­ula­tion of Al­ber­ta was found to be 185,412. It has grown from 73,022 in 1901 (the area of Al­ber­ta be­ing then slight­ly dif­fer­ent). The ba­sis of the pop­ula­tion is Cana­di­an, and the im­mi­gra­tion has been chiefly from (1) the British Isles, (2) Unit­ed States, (3) con­ti­nent of Eu­rope (chiefly Aus­tria, Hun­gary and Rus­sia). Of the pop­ula­tion in 1901, 17,245 had im­mi­grat­ed thith­er from the three men­tioned sources. The fol­low­ing ta­ble shows the per­cent­ages of ori­gins:–

1901. Cana­di­an and na­tive born . . . 54 % The British Isles . . . . . 6.8% Unit­ed States . . . . . . 16.6% Con­ti­nent of Eu­rope . . . . 24.4%

Of the In­di­an and In­di­an half-​breed pop­ula­tion there were in 1901, 14,669 of the for­mer and 11,635 of the lat­ter. The In­di­ans of cen­tral Al­ber­ta are chiefly plain Crees, a tribe of Al­go­nquin stock. In south­ern Al­ber­ta are sev­er­al thou­sands of In­di­ans on re­serves south and west of Cal­gary, con­sist­ing of the Black­foots of Al­go­nquin stock, Sarcees, Pie­gans and a few Assini­boins.

The chief cities and towns of Al­ber­ta are Ed­mon­ton (11,167), Cal­gary (i1,967), Medicine IIat (3020), Leth­bi­idge (2948) and Strath­cona (2927).

In­dus­tries.— The chief in­dus­tries of the peo­ple are farm­ing and ranch­ing. Cat­tle, hors­es and sheep are large­ly reared in the south­ern prairie re­gion on ranch­es or small­er hold­ings. In this re­gion ir­ri­ga­tion is wide­ly used. Red win­ter wheat is now pro­duced to a con­sid­er­able de­gree. In the town of Ray­mond is a large beet sug­ar man­ufac­to­ry, and in the vicin­ity great quan­ti­ties of beets are grown by ir­ri­ga­tion. In cen­tral Al­ber­ta coarse grains—oats and bar­ley—-and some wheat are grown, in con­junc­tion with mixed farm­ing. While wash­ing out the sands of the North Saskatchewan for gold is still some­what re­sort­ed to, the on­ly re­al min­ing in Al­ber­ta is that for coal. Vast beds of coal are found ex­tend­ing for hun­dreds of miles, a short dis­tance be­low the sur­face of the plains. The coal be­longs to the Cre­ta­ceous beds, and while not so heavy as that of the Coal Mea­sures is of ex­cel­lent qual­ity. In the val­ley of the Bow riv­er, along­side the Cana­di­an Pa­cif­ic rail­way, valu­able beds of an­thracite coal ale worked, and the coal is car­ried by rail­way as far east as Win­nipeg. The usu­al coal de­posits of Al­ber­ta are of bi­tu­mi­nous or se­mi-​bi­tu­mi­nous coal. These are large­ly worked at Leth­bridge in south­ern Al­ber­ta and Ed­mon­ton in the cen­tre of the province. Many oth­er parts of the province have pits for pri­vate use. The Athabas­ca riv­er re­gion, as well as lo­cal­ities far north on the Macken­zie riv­er, has de­cid­ed in­di­ca­tions of petroleum, though it is not yet de­vel­oped. Nat­ural gas has been found at sev­er­al points. The most no­table gas dis­cov­ery is that at Medicine Hat, which has wells with un­lim­it­ed quan­ti­ties. The gas is ex­cel­lent, is used for light­ing the town, sup­plies light and fu­el for the peo­ple, and a num­ber of in­dus­tries are us­ing the gas for man­ufac­tur­ing.

Com­mu­ni­ca­tions.—For trans­porta­tion the North Saskatchewan is to some ex­tent de­pend­ed on for car­ry­ing freight by steam­boats, but rail­ways are widespread in the province. The Cana­di­an Pa­cif­ic rail­way has its main line run­ning from east to west chiefly be­tween 50 and 51 deg. N. Over this line pass­esa­nenor­mous trade from the At­lantic to the Pa­cif­ic Ocean—the rail­way with its “Em­press” steam­ers on the Pa­cif­ic and al­so on the At­lantic Ocean claim­ing to have as its ter­mi­ni Liv­er­pool and Yoko­hama. A branch line of the Cana­di­an Pa­cif­ic rail­way runs from Medicine Hat be­tween 49 deg. and 50 deg. N., pass­ing through the Crow’s Nest Pass of the Rocky Moun­tains and car­ry­ing on trade with British Columbia. An­oth­er branch from Cal­gary runs south­ward to Macleod, and to Leth­bridge there comes from the south a branch cf the Great North­ern rail­way of the Unit­ed States, con­nect­ing with the state of Mon­tana. From Cal­gary to Ed­mon­ton­north­ward runs a line un­der the con­trol of the Cana­di­an Pa­cif­ic rail­way. From this rail­way al­so run, east­ward from La­combe and We­taski­win, branch lines to com­plete the sys­tem. In 1906 tue new line of the Cana­di­an North­ern rail­way was opened, con­nect­ing Win­nipeg, 1000 m. to the east, along the NUrth Saskatchewan riv­er, with Ed­mon­ton. The Grand Trunk Pa­cif­ic rail­way, backed by the Cana­di­an gov­ern­ment, forms a new transcon­ti­nen­tal line; the prairie sec­tion from Win­nipeg to Ed­mon­ton was in 1908 un­der con­tract.

Ad­min­is­tra­tion, &c.—The lo­cal gov­ern­ment of Al­ber­ta is car­ried on by a provin­cial or­ga­ni­za­tion re­sem­bling that of the oth­er Cana­di­an provinces. The cap­ital of the province is Ed­mon­ton, and here re­side the lieu­tenant-​gov­er­nor and cab­inet. The leg­is­la­ture con­sists of one house—the Leg­isla­tive As­sem­bly—-of twen­ty-​five mem­bers. Re­spon­si­ble gov­ern­ment af­ter the British mod­el is fol­lowed, and the rev­enue is chiefly de­rived from grants from the Do­min­ion gov­ern­ment. Al­ber­ta has a sys­tem of mu­nic­ipal gov­ern­ment sim­ilar to that of the oth­er provinces.

Ed­uca­tion is giv­en by a pub­lic-​school sys­tem, which, while nom­inal­ly pro­vid­ing for sep­arate schools for Catholics and Protes­tants, makes it prac­ti­cal­ly im­pos­si­ble at most points to car­ry on such schools. A nor­mal school is sit­uat­ed at Cal­gary. There is a col­lege for sec­ondary ed­uca­tion in Cal­gary and an­oth­er in Ed­mon­ton.

The fol­low­ing are the lead­ing de­nom­ina­tions in Al­ber­ta:–

1901. Ro­man Catholics . . . . 12,957 Pres­by­te­ri­ans . . . . 10,655 Methodists . . . . . 9,623 Church of Eng­land . . . 8,888 Luther­ans . . . . . 5,810 Greek Church . . . . 4,618 Mor­mons . . . . . . 3,212 Bap­tists . . . . . 2,722

The Mor­mons of Al­ber­ta are in the most souther­ly part of the province, and are a colony from the Mor­mon set­tle­ments in Utah, U.S. On com­ing to Cana­da they were giv­en lands by the Do­min­ion of Cana­da. The or­ga­ni­za­tion adopt­ed in Utah among the Mor­mons is found al­so in Al­ber­ta, but the Cana­di­an Mor­mons pro­fess to have re­ceived a lat­er rev­ela­tion con­demn­ing polygamy.

His­to­ry.—The present province of Al­ber­ta as far north as the height of land (53 deg. N.) was from the time of the in­cor­po­ra­tion of the Hud­son’s Bay Com­pa­ny (1670) a part of Ru­pert’s Land. Af­ter the dis­cov­ery of the north-​west by the French in 1731 and suc­ceed­ing years the prairies of the west were oc­cu­pied by them, and Fort La Jon­quiere was es­tab­lished near the present city of Cal­gary (1752). The North-​West Com­pa­ny of Mon­tre­al oc­cu­pied the north­ern part of Al­ber­ta dis­trict be­fore the Hud­son’s Bay Com­pa­ny suc­ceed­ed in com­ing from Hud­son Bay to take pos­ses­sion of it. The first hold of the Athabas­ca re­gion was gained by Pe­ter Pond, who, on be­hal­fofthe North-​West Com­pa­ny of Mon­tre­al, built Fort Athabas­ca on riv­er La Biche in 1778. Rod­er­ick Macken­zie, cousin of Sir Alexan­der Macken­zie, built Fort Chipewyan on Lake Athabas­ca in 1788. By way of the North Saskatchewan riv­er Alexan­der Macken­zie crossed the height of land, and pro­ceed­ing north­ward dis­cov­ered the riv­er which bears his name, and al­so the Arc­tic Sea. Af­ter­ward go­ing west­ward from Lake Athabas­ca and through the Peace riv­er, he reached the Pa­cif­ic Ocean, be­ing the first white man to cross the North Amer­ican con­ti­nent, north of Mex­ico.

As part of the North-​West Ter­ri­to­ries the’dis­trict of Al­ber­ta was or­ga­nized in 1875. Ad­di­tion­al priv­ileges and a lo­cal­leg­is­la­ture were added from time to time. At length in 1905 the dis­trict of Al­ber­ta was en­larged and the present province formed by the Do­min­ion par­lia­ment. (G. BR.)

AL­BERT ED­WARD NYAN­ZA, a lake of Cen­tral Africa, the south­ern of the two west­ern reser­voirs of the Nile. It lies in the Al­ber­tine rift-​val­ley be­tween 0 deg. 8′ and 0 deg. 40′ S. and 29 deg. 28′ and 29 deg. 52′ E., at an el­eva­tion of 3004 ft. above the sea. It is rough­ly oval in shape and has no deep in­den­ta­tions. On its N.E. side it is con­nect­ed by a wind­ing chan­nel, 25 m. long and from a quar­ter of a mile to a mile wide, flow­ing be­tween high banks, with a small­er sheet of wa­ter, Lake Dweru, which ex­tends north of the equa­tor. Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za has a length of 44 m. and a breadth of 32 m. (max­imum mea­sure­ment) . Dweru is about 20 m. long and 10 across at its widest part. The area of the two lakes is ap­prox­imate­ly 820 sq. m., or about the size of Le­ices­ter­shire, Eng­land. A swampy plain, tra­versed by the Ruchu­ru and oth­er rivers, ex­tends south of the Nyan­za and was once cov­ered by its wa­ters. The plain con­tains sev­er­al salt-​pans, and at the S.E. cor­ner are nu­mer­ous gey­sers. Along the east­ern shore the low land ex­tends to Ka­ma­rangu, a point about mid­way be­tween the south and north ends of the lake, a con­sid­er­able stretch of ground in­ter­ven­ing be­tween the wall of the rift-​val­ley and the wa­ter, two ter­races be­ing clear­ly de­fined. The eu­phor­bia trees and oth­er veg­eta­tion on the low­er ter­race are of small size and ap­par­ent­ly of re­cent ori­gin. At some dis­tance from the lake runs a belt of for­est. North of Ka­ma­rangu the wall of the val­ley ap­proach­es the wa­ter in a se­ries of bluffs some 300 to 350 ft. high. At the N.E. end the hills again re­cede and the plain widens to io­clude Dweru. On the west side of the Nyan­za the wall of the rift-​val­ley runs close to the lake shore and at the N.W. cor­ner the moun­tains close in on the wa­ter. North of the lake a high al­lu­vial plain stretch­es to the south­ern slopes of the Ruwen­zori moun­tains. From Ruwen­zori a sub­sidiary range, known as the Kipu­ra moun­tains, runs due south to the lake shore, where it ends in a low round­ed hill. In gen­er­al, the plain ris­es above the lake in a se­ries of bold bluffs, a wide mar­gin of swamp sep­arat­ing them from the wa­ter. The Sem­li­ki, the on­ly out­let of the lake, is­sues from its N.W. end. Round the north-​east­ern shore of the lake are nu­mer­ous crater lakes, many salt, the most re­mark­able be­ing that of Katwe. This lake lies west of the Dweru chan­nel and is sep­arat­ed from Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za by a ridge of land, not more than 160 ft. in breadth. The sides of this ridge run down steeply to the wa­ter on ei­ther side. The wa­ters of the Katwe lake have a beau­ti­ful rose colour which be­comes crim­son in the shad­ows. The salt is high­ly prized and is ex­port­ed to great dis­tances.

The main feed­er of Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za, and west­ern head-​stream of the Nile, the Ruchu­ru, ris­es on the north side of the vol­ca­noes north of Lake Kivu (see MEUMBIRO.) On reach­ing the lev­el plain 15 m. from the lake its wa­ters be­come brack­ish, and the Veg­eta­tion on its banks is scanty. The reedy marsh­es near its mouth form a re­treat for a prim­itive race of fish­er­men. Lake Dweru, the shores of which are gen­er­al­ly high, is fed by the streams from the east­ern slopes of the Ruwen­zori range. One of these, the Mpan­go, is a larg­er riv­er than the Ruchu­ru. The out­let of the Nyan­za, the Sem­li­ki, and the part plaved by the lake in the Nile sys­tem are de­scribed un­der AL­BERY NYAN­ZA.

A fea­ture of Lake Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za is the thick haze which over­hangs the wa­ter dur­ing the dry sea­son, blot­ting out from view the moun­tains. In the rains, vhen the sky is clear, the mag­nif­icent panora­ma of hills en­cir­cling the lake on the west and north-​west is re­vealed. The lake wa­ter is clear of a light green colour, and dis­tinct­ly brack­ish. Fish abound, as do wa­ter­fowl, crocodiles and, in the south­ern swamps, hip­popota­mi. In the rainy sea­son the lake is sub­ject to vi­olent storms.

The en­tire area of Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za was found, by the work of the An­glo-​Ger­man Bound­ary Com­mis­sion of 1902-1904, to lie with­in the lim­its of the sphere of in­flu­ence of the Con­go Free State as de­fined in the agree­ment of the 12th of May 1894 be­tween that state and Great Britain. Dweru was dis­cov­ered in 1875 by H. M. Stan­ley, then trav­el­ling west­ward from Ugan­da, and by him was named Beat­rice Gulf in the be­lief that it was part of Al­bert Nyan­za. In 1888-1889 Stan­ley, ap­proach­ing the Nile re­gion from the west, traced the Sem­li­ki to its source in Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za, which lake he dis­cov­ered, nam­ing it af­ter Al­bert Ed­ward, prince of Wales, af­ter­wards Ed­ward VII. Stan­ley al­so dis­cov­ered the con­nect­ing chan­nel be­tween the larg­er lake and Dweru. The ac­cu­rate map­ping of the lake was main­ly the work of British of­fi­cials and trav­ellers, such as Scott El­liott, Sir F. D. Lu­gard, Ewart Gro­gan, J. E. Moore and Sir H. John­ston; while Emin Pasha and Franz Stuhlmann, deputy­gov­er­nor (1891) of Ger­man East Africa, ex­plored its south­ern shores. (See AL­BERT NYAN­za and NIRE, and the au­thor­ities there quot­ed.) (W. E. G.; F. R. C.)

AL­BER­TI, DOMENI­CO (c. 1710-1740), Ital­ian mu­si­cian, is known in mu­si­cal his­to­ry as the writ­er of dozens of sonatas in which the melody is sup­port­ed from be­gin­ning to end by an ex­treme­ly fa­mil­iar for­mu­la of arpeg­gio ac­com­pa­ni­ment, con­se­quent­ly known as the Al­ber­ti bass. He thus shows how ad­vanced was the de­cay of­poly­phon­ic sen­si­bil­ity (as a neg­ative prepa­ra­tion for the ad­vent of the sonata-​style) al­ready dur­ing the life­time of Bach. His works have no oth­er spe­cial qual­ities, though it is prob­able that Mozart’s first vi­olin sonatas, writ­ten at the age of sev­en, were mod­elled on Al­ber­ti in spite of their su­pe­ri­or clev­er­ness.

AL­RERTI, LEONE BAT­TISTA (1404-1472), Ital­ian painter, po­et, philoso­pher, mu­si­cian and ar­chi­tect, was born in Venice on the 18th of Febru­ary 1404. He was so skilled in Latin verse that a com­edy he wrote in his twen­ti­eth year, en­ti­tled Philo­dox­ius, de­ceived the younger Al­dus, who edit­ed and pub­lished it as the gen­uine work of Lep­idus. In mu­sic he was re­put­ed one of the first or­gan­ists of the age. He held the ap­point­ment of canon in the metropoli­tan church of Flo­rence, and thus had leisure to de­vote him­self to his favourite art. UIe is gen­er­al­ly re­gard­ed as one of the re­stor­ers of the an­cient style of ar­chi­tec­ture. At Rome he was em­ployed by Pope Nicholas V. in the restora­tion of the pa­pal palace and of the foun­da­tion of Ac­qua Vergine, and in the or­na­men­ta­tion of the mag­nif­icent foun­tain of Tre­vi. At Man­tua he de­signed the church of Sant’ An­drea and at Ri­mi­ni the cel­ebrat­ed church of San Francesco, which is gen­er­al­ly es­teemed his finest work. On a com­mis­sion from Ru­cel­lai he de­signed the prin­ci­pal fa­cade of the church of San­ta Maria Novel­la in Flo­rence, as well as the fam­ily palace in the Via del­la Scala, now known as the Palaz­zo Strozzi. Al­ber­ti wrote works on sculp­ture, Del­la Stat­ua, and on paint­ing, De . Pic­tura, which are high­ly es­teemed; but his most cel­ebrat­ed trea­tise is that on ar­chi­tec­ture, De Re Aed­if­icalo­ria, which has been trans­lat­ed in­to Ital­ian, French, Span­ish and En­glish. Al­ber­ti died at Rome in the April of 1472.

See Passeri­ni, Gli Al­ber­ti di Firen­ze (1869, 1870); Manci­ni, Vri­ta de Al­ber­ti (Firen­ze, 1882); V. Hoff­mann, Stu­di­en zu Leon Bat­tista Al­ber­ti’s zehn Buch­ern: De Re Aed­ica­to­ria (Franken­berg, 1883).

AL­BERTINEILI, MAR­IOT­TO (1474-1515), Ital­ian painter, was born in Flo­rence, and was a fel­low-​pupil and part­ner of Fra Bar­tolom­meo, with whom he paint­ed many works. His chief paint­ings are in Flo­rence, no­tably his mas­ter­piece, the “Vis­ita­tion of the Vir­gin” (1503) at the Uf­fizi.

AL­RERTITE, a va­ri­ety of as­phalt found in Al­bert coun­ty, New Brunswick. It is of jet-​black colour and bril­liant pitch-​like lus­tre. Its per­cent­age chem­ical com­po­si­tion is:–

C. H. O. N. S. Ash. 86.04 8.96 1.97 2.93 trace 0.10

It soft­ens slight­ly in boil­ing wa­ter, but on­ly fus­es im­per­fect­ly when fur­ther heat­ed, and it is less sol­uble than or­di­nary as­phalt in oil of tur­pen­tine.

AL­BERT LEA, a cityn­nd the coun­ty-​seatof Free­born coun­ty, Min­neso­ta, U.S.A., about 97 m. S. of St Paul. Pop. (1890) 3305; (1900) 4500; ( 1905, state cen­sus) 5657, 1206 be­ing for­eign-​born (461 Nor­we­gians, 411 Danes, 98 Swedes); (1910, L. S. cen­sus) 6192. It is served by two branch­es of the Lhica­go, Mil­wau­kee & St Paul, by the main line and one branch of the Chica­go, Rock Is­land & Pa­cif­ic, by the Illi­nois Cen­tral, by the Iowa Cen­tral, and by the Min­neapo­lis & St Louis rail­ways. It is at­trac­tive­ly sit­uat­ed be­tween Foun­tain Lake and Al­bert Lea Lake, and is a sum­mer re­sort. It has a pub­lic li­brary and the Free­born Coun­ty Court House, and is the seat of Al­bert Lea Col­lege (Pres­by­te­ri­an, for wom­en), found­ed in 1884, and of Luther Acade­my ( Nor­we­gian Evan­gel­ical Luther­an), found­ed in 1888. Al­bert Lea is a rail­way and man­ufac­tur­ing cen­tre of con­sid­er­able im­por­tance, has grain el­eva­tors and foundries and ma­chine shops, and man­ufac­tures bricks, tiles, car­riages, wag­ons, flour, corsets, re­frig­er­ators and woollen goods. The city is al­so the cen­tre of large dairy in­ter­ests, and there are many cream­eries in the coun­ty. Sumer­ous arte­sian wells fur­nish the city with an am­ple sup­ply of wa­ter of un­usu­al ex­cel­lence. Al­bert Lea was set­tled in 1855 and re­ceived a city char­ter in 1878. The city and the lake were named in hon­our of Lieu­tenant Al­bert Miller Lea (1808–1801), a West Point grad­uate (1831) who, on be­half of the Unit­ed States gov­ern­ment, first sur­veyed the re­gion and de­scribed it in a re­port pub­lished in 1836. He was a lieu­tenant-​colonel of en­gi­neers in the Con­fed­er­ate army dur­ing the Civ­il War.

AL­BERT NYAN­ZA, a lake of Cen­tral Africa, the north­ern of the two west­ern reser­voirs of the Nile, ly­ing in the west­ern (A!bertine) rift-​val­ley, near its north end. The south­ern reser­voir is Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za (q.v..) Lake Al­bert lies be­tween 1 deg. 9′ and 2 deg. 17′ N. and 30 deg. 30′ and 31 deg. 35′ E., at an el­eva­tion of about 2000 ft. above the sea. Its great­est length is about 100 m., its great­est width 22 m., its area be­ing ap­prox­imate­ly 1640 sq. m., about the size of Lan­cashire, Eng­land. South of the lake is a wide plain, tra­versed by the Se­ni­li­ki riv­er, which en­ters the Nyan­za through a swamp of tall weeds, chiefly am­bach and pa­pyrus. Both east and west the walls of the rift-​val­ley are close to the lake,the wa­terin many places wash­ing the base of the cliffs. Else­where the nar­row­fore­shore is thick­ly­wood­ed. The as­cent to the plateaus is gen­er­al­ly by three tiers of hills ris­ing one be­hind the oth­er. On the west side the moun­tains present many point­ed and con­ical sum­mits; on the east the cliffs rise abrupt­ly 1000 to 2000 ft. On ei­ther coast wild gorges and ravines, dense­ly wood­ed, break the out­line of the moun­tains. Through these gorges dash mag­nif­icent cas­cades, oth­ers leap­ing the es­carp­ments of the plateaus in wa­ter­falls of great vol­ume and depth. To­wards the north the hills re­cede from the coast and on both sides flats ex­tend for dis­tances vary­ing from 5 to 15 m. On the east­ern side, 92 m. from the south­ern end of the Nyan­za, the Vic­to­ria Nile en­ters the lake, here not more than 6 m. across, through a wilder­ness of woods, the delta of the Nile ex­tend­ing over 4 m. The mouth of the main stream is ob­struct­ed by a bar of its own for­ma­tion; the cur­rent is slug­gish; there are many side chan­nels, and the ap­pear­ance of the lake gives no hint that a great riv­er has joined its wa­ters. For 5 or 6 m. north of the junc­tion of the Vic­to­ria Nile the lake suf­fers no ma­te­ri­al diminu­tion in width. Then, how­ev­er, the east­ern and west­ern shores ap­proach each oth­er, and a cur­rent is per­cep­ti­ble flow­ing north. The lake has be­come the Bahr-​el-​Jebel, or Moun­tain riv­er, as this sec­tion of the Nile is called. Through­out its ex­tent Al­bert Nyan­za is shal­low; at its south­ern end the wa­ter for a con­sid­er­able dis­tance is not more than 3 ft. deep. The deep­est sound­ings give on­ly 50 to 55 ft., the av­er­age depth be­ing 30 to 40 ft.

The Al­ber­line Basin of the Nile.—Al­bert Nyan­za re­ceives the whole of the drainage of Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za and the Sem­li­ki riv­er, and with them and its own basin forms the “Al­ber­tine” Nile sys­tem. Its wa­ters, as stat­ed above, min­gle with those of the Vic­to­ria Nile, their unit­ed vol­ume flow­ing north to­wards the Mediter­ranean. A study of the changes go­ing on in the rift­val­ley in which the lakes lie leads, how­ev­er, to the be­lief that the Al­bert Ed­ward and Al­bert Nyan­zas are dry­ing up, a pro­cess which the na­ture of the drainage ar­eas is help­ing to bring about. That the Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za once cov­ered a much larg­er area than it does at present is cer­tain. At that time, re­cent from a ge­olog­ical stand­point, the val­ley to the north, through which now flows the Sem­li­ki riv­er, was blocked. The re­moval of the block led to the shrink­age of the lake and the for­ma­tion.of the Semh­ki, which found its way to the more north­ern lake-​Al­bert Nyan­za. Grad­ual­ly the Sem­li­ki erod­ed its bed, and con­se­quent­ly the lev­el of Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za con­tin­ued to fall. The pro­cess con­tin­ues but is checked by the ex­is­tence of the rock bar­ri­er which stretch­es across the Sem­li­ki. This stream leaves Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za at its N.W. end in 0 deg. 8′ 30q S., and af­ter a course of about 160 m. en­ters Al­bert Nyan­za in 1 deg. 9′ N. In its up­per and in its low­er course the riv­er flows ei­ther through high al­lu­vial plains, in which it has scored a deep chan­nel, or across swamp land. In the mid­dle sec­tion, which has a length of some 75 m., the riv­er runs in a deep nar­row val­ley -cov­ered with the dens­est for­est. On the west this val­ley is bound­ed by the Con­go moun­tains, which form the wall of the rift-​val­ley, on the east by the mighty range of Ruwen­zori, whose heights tow­er over 16,000 ft. above sea-​lev­el. In this length of 75 m. the riv­er falls in cataracts and rapids over 800 ft. This rocky bar­ri­er acts as a reg­ula­tor for the wa­ter re­ceived from Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za snd, by check­ing the ero­sion of the riv­er bed, tends to main­tain the lev­el of the lake. When this bar wears away Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za will, in all prob­abil­ity, dis­ap­pear as a lake and will be­come a riv­er, a con­tin­ua­tion of its present most south­ern af­fi­uen­tj the Ruchu­ru.

Al­bert Nyan­za, on the oth­er hand, is threat­ened in the dis­tant fu­ture with de­struc­tion from an­oth­er cause–the fill­ing of its bed by the al­lu­vi­um poured in­to it by the Sem­li­ki, the Vic­to­ria Nile and, in a less­er de­gree, by oth­er streams. The Sem­li­ki re­ceives di­rect­ly or in­di­rect­ly the whole of the drainage of Ruwen­zori, and al­so that of the east­ern face of the Con­go moun­tains as well as the drainage basin of Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za. The amount of al­lu­vial mat­ter car­ried is enor­mous; from Ruwen­zori alone the de­tri­tus is very great. Charged with all this mat­ter, the Semh­ki, as it emerges from the re­gion of for­est and cataracts (in which, of­ten close­ly con­fined by its moun­tain bar­ri­ers, the stream is deep and rapid), be­comes slug­gish, its slope flat­tens out, and its wa­ters, un­able to car­ry their bur­den, de­posit much of it up­on the land. This pro­cess, con­tin­ual­ly go­ing on, has formed a large plain at the south end of Al­bert Nyan­za, which has se­ri­ous­ly en­croached up­on the lake. At the north­ern end of the lake the sed­iment brought down by the Vic­to­ria Nile is pro­duc­ing a sim­ilar ef­fect. Al­bert Nyan­za has in­deed shrunk in its di­men­sions dur­ing the com­par­ative­ly few years it has been known to Eu­ro­peans. Thus at the S.W. end, Nyam­sasi, which was an is­land in 1889, has be­come a penin­su­la. Is­lands which in 1876 were on the east coast no longer ex­ist; they now form part of the fore­shore. On the oth­er hand, the shrink­age of the lake lev­el caused the ap­pear­ance in 1885 of an is­land where in 1879 there had been an ex­panse of shal­low wa­ter. It seems prob­able that, in a pe­ri­od ge­olog­ical­ly not very re­mote, the “Al­ber­tine” sys­tem will con­sist of one great riv­er, ex­tend­ing from the north­ern slopes of the Rivu range, where the Ruchu­ru has its rise, to the ex­ist­ing junc­tion of the Vic­to­ria Nile with Al­bert Nyan­za.

The com­bined drainage area, in­clud­ing the wa­ter sur­face of Al­bert Ed­ward Nyan­za, the Semh­ki and Al­bert Nyan­za, is some 16,600 sq. m. Through­out this area the rain­fall is heavy (40 to 60 in. or more per an­num), the vol­ume of wa­ter en­ter­ing Al­bert Nyan­za by the Sem­li­ki when in flood be­ing not less than 700 cu­bic me­tres per sec­ond. Of the wa­ter re­ceived by Al­bert Nyan­za an­nu­al­ly (omit­ting the Vic­to­ria Nile from the cal­cu­la­tion) be­tween 50 and 60% is lost by evap­ora­tion, whilst 24,265,000,000 cu­bic me­tres are an­nu­al­ly with­drawn by the Bahr-​el-​Jebel. The “Al­ber­tine” sys­tem plays a com­par­ative­ly in­signif­icant part in the an­nu­al llood rise of the White Nile, but to its wa­ters are due the main­te­nance of a con­stant sup­ply to this riv­er through­out the year.

Dis­cov­ery and Ex­plo­ration.—Al­bert Nyan­za was first reached by Sir Samuel Bak­er on the 14th of March 1864 near Va­covia, a small vil­lage of fish­er­men and salt-​mak­ers on the east coast. From a granitic cliff 1500 ft. above the wa­ter he looked out over a bound­less hori­zon on the south and south-​west, and to­wards the west de­scried at a dis­tance of 50 or 60 m. moun­tains about 7000 ft. high. Al­bert Nyan­za was con­se­quent­ly en­tered on his map as a vast lake ex­tend­ing about 380 m. But the cir­cum­nav­iga­tion of the lake by Ges­si Pasha (1876), and by Emin Pasha in 1884, showed that Bak­er had been de­ceived as to the size of the lake. By the end of the 19th cen­tu­ry the to­pog­ra­phy of the lake re­gion was known with fair ac­cu­ra­cy. The lake forms part of the (British) Ugan­da Pro­tec­torate, but the north-​west shores were leased in 1894 to the (ion­go Free State dur­ing the sovereign­ty of king Leopold II. of Bel­gium. Of this leased area a strip 15 m. wide, giv­ing the Con­go State a pas­sage way to the lake, was to re­main in its pos­ses­sion af­ter the de­ter­mi­na­tion of the lease. - See Nile; Sir W. Garstin’s Re­port up­on the Basin of the Up­per

Loile (Egypt, No. 2, 1904); Capt. H. G. Lyons’ The Phys­iog­ra­phy oj. the Riv­er Nelc and its Basin (Cairo, 1906), and the au­thor­ities quot­ed in those works. (W. E. G.; F. R. C.)

AL­BER­TUS MAG­NUS (AL­BERT OF COLOGNE.? 1206-1280), count of Boll­stadt, scholas­tic philoso­pher, was born of the no­ble fam­ily of Boll­stadt at Lauin­gen in Suabia. The date of his birth, gen­er­al­ly giv­en as 1193, is more prob­ably 1206. He was ed­ucat­ed prin­ci­pal­ly at Pad­ua, where he re­ceived in­struc­tion in Aris­to­tle’s writ­ings. In 1223 (or 1221) he be­came a mem­ber of the Do­mini­can or­der, and stud­ied the­ol­ogy un­der its rules at Bologna and else­where. Se­lect­ed to fill the po­si­tion of lec­tur­er at Cologne, where the or­der had a house, he taught for sev­er­al years there, at Re­gens­burg, Freiburg, Strass­burg and Hildesheim. In 1245 he went to Paris, re­ceived his doc­tor­ate and taught for some time, in ac­cor­dance with the reg­ula­tions, with great suc­cess. In 1254 he was made provin­cial of his or­der, and ful­filled the ar­du­ous du­ties of the of­fice with great care and ef­fi­cien­cy. Dur­ing the time he held this of­fice he pub­licly de­fend­ed the Do­mini­cans against the uni­ver­si­ty of Paris, com­ment­ed on St John, and an­swered the er­rors of the Ara­bi­an philoso­pher, Aver­roes. In 1260 the pope made him bish­op of Re­gens­burg, which of­fice he re­signed af­ter three years. The re­main­der of his life he spent part­ly in preach­ing through­out Bavaria and the ad­join­ing dis­tricts, part­ly in re­tire­ment in the var­ious hous­es of his or­der; in 1270 he preached the eighth Cru­sade in Aus­tria; al­most the last of his labours was the de­fence of the or­tho­doxy of his for­mer pupil, Thomas Aquinas. He died in 1280, aged sev­en­ty-​four. He was be­at­ified in 1622, and he is com­mem­orat­ed on the 16th of Novem­ber. Al­bert’s works (pub­lished in twen­ty-​one fo­lios by the Do­mini­can Pierre Jam­my in 1651, and re­pro­duced by the Abbe Borgnet, Paris, 1890, 36 vols.) suf­fi­cient­ly at­test his great ac­tiv­ity. He was the most wide­ly read and most learned man of his time. The whole of Aris­to­tle’s works, pre­sent­ed in the Latin trans­la­tions and notes of the Ara­bi­an com­men­ta­tors, were by him di­gest­ed, in­ter­pret­ed and sys­tem­atized in ac­cor­dance with church doc­trine. Al­bert’s ac­tiv­ity, how­ev­er, was rather philo­soph­ical than the­olog­ical (see SCHOLAS­TI­CISM.) The philo­soph­ical works, oc­cu­py­ing the first six and the last of the twen­ty-​one vol­umes, are gen­er­al­ly di­vid­ed ac­cord­ing to the Aris­totelian scheme of the sci­ences, and con­sist of in­ter­pre­ta­tions and con­den­sa­tions of Aris­to­tle’s rel­ative works, with sup­ple­men­tary dis­cus­sions de­pend­ing on the ques­tions then ag­itat­ed, and oc­ca­sion­al­ly di­ver­gences from the opin­ions of the mas­ter. His prin­ci­pal the­olog­ical works are a com­men­tary in three vol­umes on the Books of the Sen­tences of Pe­ter Lom­bard (Mag­is­ter Sen­ten­tiarum), and the Sum­ma The­olo­giae in two vol­umes. This last is in sub­stance a rep­eti­tion of the first in a more di­dac­tic form. Al­bert’s knowl­edge of phys­ical sci­ence was con­sid­er­able and for the age ac­cu­rate. His in­dus­try in ev­ery de­part­ment was great, and though we find in his sys­tem many of those gaps which are char­ac­ter­is­tic of scholas­tic phi­los­ophy, yet the pro­tract­ed study of Aris­to­tle gave him a great pow­er of sys­tem­at­ic thought and ex­po­si­tion, and the re­sults of that study, as left to us, by no means war­rant the con­temp­tu­ous ti­tle some­times giv­en him–the “Ape of Aris­to­tle.” They rather lead us to ap­pre­ci­ate the mo­tives which caused his con­tem­po­raries to be­stow on him the hon­ourable sur­names “The Great” and “Doc­tor Uni­ver­sahs.” It must, how­ev­er, be ad­mit­ted that much of his knowl­edge was ill di­gest­ed; it even ap­pears that he re­gard­ed Pla­to and Speusip­pus as Sto­ics. Al­ber­tus is fre­quent­ly men­tioned by Dante, who made his doc­trine of free-​will the ba­sis of his eth­ical sys­tem. Dante places him with his pupil Aquinas among the great lovers of wis­dom (Spir­iti Sapi­en­ti) in the Heav­en of the Sun.

See Paget Toyn­bee, “Some Obli­ga­tions of Dante to Al­ber­tus Mag­nus” in Ro­ma­nia, xxiv. 400-412, and the Dante Dic­tio­nary by the same au­thor. For Al­bert’s life see J. Sighart, Al­ber­tus Mag­nus, sein Leben und seine Wis­senschaft (Re­gens­burg, 1857; Eng. trans., Dixon, Lon­don, 1876); H. Finke, Unge­druck­te Do­minikaner­briefe des 13. Jahrh. (Pader­born, 1891). For his phi­los­ophy A. Stockl, Geschichte d. scholastis­chen Philoso­phie; J. E. Erd­mann, Grun­driss d. Ges. d. Phil. vol. i. 8. The his­to­ries of Hau­reau, Rit­ter, Prantl and Windel­band may al­so be con­sult­ed. See al­so W. Feil­er, Die Moral d. A. M. (Leipzig, 1891); M. Weiss, Ue­ber mar­iol­ogis­che Schriften des A. M. (Paris, 1898); Jos. Bach, Des A. M. Ver­halt­niss zu d. Erken­nt­nisslehre d. Griechen, Romer, Araber u. Ju­den (Vi­en­na, 1881); Her­zog-​Hauck, Realen­cyk. (1897); Va­cant, Dict. The­ol. Cathol. (s.v.); Ch. Jour­dain in Dict. d. sci­ences phi­los. (s.v.); M. Joel, Das Ver­halt­niss A. d. G. zu Moses Mai­monides (Bres­lau, 1863).

AL­BERUS, ERAS­MUS (c. 1500-1553), Ger­man hu­man­ist, re­former and po­et, was a na­tive of the vil­lage of Sprendlin­gen near Frank­fort-​on-​Main, where he was born about the year 1500. Al­though his fa­ther was a school­mas­ter, his ear­ly ed­uca­tion was ne­glect­ed. Ul­ti­mate­ly in 1518 he found his way to the uni­ver­si­ty of Wit­ten­berg, where he stud­ied the­ol­ogy. He had here the good for­tune to at­tract the at­ten­tion of Luther and Melanchthon, and sub­se­quent­ly be­came one of Luther’s most ac­tive helpers in the Ref­or­ma­tion. Not mere­ly did he fight for the Protes­tant cause as a preach­er and the­olo­gian, but he was al­most the on­ly mem­ber of Luther’s par­ty who was able to con­front the Ro­man Catholics with the weapon of lit­er­ary satire. In 1542 he pub­lished a prose satire to which Luther wrote the pref­ace, Der Bar­fuss­er Monche Eu­len­spiegel und Alko­ran, an adap­ta­tion of the Liber con­fer­mi­ta­tum of the Fran­cis­can Bar­tolom­meo Al­bizzi of Pisa (Pisanus, d. 1401 ), in which the Fran­cis­can or­der is held up to ridicule. Of high­er lit­er­ary val­ue is the di­dac­tic and satir­ical Buch von der Tu­gend und Weisheit (1550), a col­lec­tion of forty-​nine fa­bles in which Al­berus em­bod­ies his views on the re­la­tions of Church and State. His satire is in­ci­sive, but in a schol­ar­ly and hu­man­is­tic way; it does not ap­peal to pop­ular pas­sions with the fierce di­rect­ness which en­abled the mas­ter of Catholic satire, Thomas Murn­er, to in­flict such telling blows. Sev­er­al of Al­berus’s hymns, all of which show the in­flu­ence of his mas­ter Luther, have been re­tained in the Ger­man Protes­tant hym­nal. Af­ter Luther’s death, Al­berus was for a time Di­akonus in Wit­ten­berg; he be­came in­volved, how­ev­er, in the po­lit­ical con­flicts of the time, and was in Magde­burg in 1550-1551, while that town was be­sieged by Mau­rice of Sax­ony. In 1552 he was ap­point­ed Gen­er­al­su­per­in­ten­dent at Neubran­den­burg in Meck­len­burg, where he died on the 5th of May 1553.

Das Buch von der Tu­gend und Weisheit has been edit­ed by W. Braune (1892); the six­teen Geistliche Lieder by C. W. Stromberg­er (1857). Al­berus’ prose writ­ings have not been reprint­ed in re­cent times. See F. Schnorr von Car­ols­feld, Eras­mus Al­berus (1894).

AL­BERY, JAMES (1838–1889), En­glish drama­tist, was born in Lon­don on the 4th of May 1838. On leav­ing school he en­tered an ar­chi­tect’s of­fice, and start­ed to write plays. Af­ter many fail­ures he at last suc­ceed­ed in get­ting an adap­ta­tion–Dr Davy –Pro­duced at the Lyceum (1866). His most suc­cess­ful piece, Two Ros­es, a com­edy, was pro­duced at the Vaudeville in 1870, in which Sir Hen­ry Irv­ing made one of his ear­li­est Lon­don suc­cess­es as Dig­by Grant. He was the au­thor of a large num­ber of oth­er plays and adap­ta­tions, in­clud­ing Jin­gle (a ver­sion of Pick­wick), pro­duced at the Lyceum in 1878, and Pink Domi­noes, the lat­ter be­ing one of a se­ries of adap­ta­tions from the French which he made for the Cri­te­ri­on the­atre. At that house his wife, the well-​known ac­tress, Miss Mary Moore, played the lead­ing parts. He died on the 15th of Au­gust 1889.

AL­BI, a city of south-​west­ern France, cap­ital of the de­part­ment of Tarn, 48 m. N. E. of Toulouse, on a branch line of the South­ern rail­way. Pop. (1906) 14,956. Al­bi oc­cu­pies a com­mand­ing po­si­tion on the left bank of the Tarn; it is unit­ed to its sub­urb of La Madeleine on the right bank by a me­dieval and a mod­ern bridge. The old town forms a nu­cle­us of nar­row, wind­ing streets sur­round­ed by boule­vards, be­yond which lie mod­ern quar­ters with reg­ular thor­ough­fares and pub­lic gar­dens. The cathe­dral of Sainte Ce­cile, a fine fortress-​church in the Goth­ic style, be­gun in 1277, fin­ished in 1512, ris­es high above the rest of the town. The ex­te­ri­or, flanked at the west­ern end by a lofty tow­er and pierced by high, nar­row win­dows, is de­void of or­na­ment. Its gen­er­al plain­ness con­trasts with the elab­orate carv­ing of the stone canopy which shel­ters the south­ern por­tal. In the in­te­ri­or, which is with­out transepts or aisles, the rood­screen and the choir-​en­clo­sure, which date from about 1500, are mas­ter­pieces of del­icate sculp­ture; the vault­ing and the walls are cov­ered with paint­ings of the 15th and 16th cen­turies. The arch­bish­op’s palace to the north-​east of the cathe­dral is a for­ti­fied build­ing of the 14th cen­tu­ry. St Salvi, the chief of the oth­er church­es of Al­bi, be­longs to the 13th and 15th cen­turies. A stat­ue of the sailor La Per­ouse (1741-1788) stands in the square named af­ter him.

Al­bi is the seat of an arch­bish­op, a pre­fect and a court of as­sizes. It has tri­bunals of first in­stance and of com­merce, a board of trade-​ar­bi­tra­tors, a cham­ber of com­merce, a lycee and train­ing col­leges. The in­dus­tri­al es­tab­lish­ments of the town in­clude dye-​works, dis­til­leries, tan­ner­ies, glass-​works and im­por­tant flour-​mills. It is al­so a cen­tre for hat-​mak­ing, and pro­duces cloth-​fab­rics, lace, um­brel­las, casks, chairs, wood­en shoes, can­dles and pas­tries. Trade is in wine and anise.

Al­bi (Al­bi­ga) was, in the Gal­lo-​Ro­man pe­ri­od, cap­ital of the Al­bi­gens­es, and lat­er of the vis­coun­ty of Al­bi­geois, which was a fief of the counts of Toulouse. From the 12th cen­tu­ry on­wards, its bish­ops, the first of whom ap­pears to have lived about the 3rd cen­tu­ry, be­gan to en­croach on the au­thor­ity of the vis­counts; the lat­ter, af­ter the Al­bi­gen­sian war, lost their es­tates, which passed to Si­mon de Mont­fort and then to the crown of France. By a con­ven­tion con­clud­ed in 1264 the chief tem­po­ral pow­er in the city was grant­ed to the bish­ops. The arch­bish­opric dates from 1678.

AL­BIAN (Fr. Al­bion, from Al­ba = Aube in France), in ge­ol­ogy the term pro­posed in 1842 by A. d’Or­bigny for that stage of the Cre­ta­ceous Sys­tem which comes above the Ap­tian and be­low the Ceno­ma­ni­an (Pal. France. Cret. ii.). The pre­cise lim­its of this stage are placed some­what dif­fer­ent­ly by En­glish and con­ti­nen­tal ge­ol­ogists. In Eng­land it is usu­al to re­gard the Al­bian stage as equiv­alent to the Up­per Green­sand plus Gault, that is, to the “Sel­bor­ni­an” of Jukes-​Browne. But A. de Lap­par­ent would place most of the UP­per Green­sand in the Ceno­ma­ni­an. The En­glish prac­tice is to com­mence the up­per Cre­ta­ceous with the Al­bian; on the oth­er hand, this stage clos­es the low­er Cre­ta­ceous ac­cord­ing to con­ti­nen­tal us­age. It is nec­es­sary there­fore, when us­ing the term Al­bian, to bear these dif­fer­ences in mind, and to as­cer­tain the ex­act po­si­tion of the stra­ta by ref­er­ence to the zon­al fos­sils. These are, in de­scend­ing or­der, Pecten as­per and Car­diaster fos­sar­ius, Schloen bachia ros­tra­ta, Ho­plites lau­tus and H. in­ter­rup­tus, Dou­ville­iceras mam­mil­lalum. In ad­di­tion to the for­ma­tions men­tioned above, the fol­low­ing rep­re­sen­ta­tives of the Al­bian stage are wor­thy of no­tice: the gaize and phos­phat­ic beds of Ar­gonne and Bray in France; the Flam­men­mergel of North Ger­many; the lig­nites of Il­tril­las in Spain; the Up­per Sand­stones of Nu­bia, and the Fred­er­icks­burg beds of North Amer­ica.


AL­BI­GENS­ES, the usu­al des­ig­na­tion of the heretics—and more es­pe­cial­ly the Catharist heretics–of the south of France in the 12th and 13th cen­turies. This name ap­pears to have been giv­en to them at the end of the 12th cen­tu­ry, and was used in 1181 by the chron­icler Ge­of­froy de Vi­geois. The des­ig­na­tion is hard­ly ex­act, for the hereti­cal cen­tre was at Toulouse and in the neigh­bour­ing dis­tricts rather than at Al­bi (the an­cient Al­bi­ga.) The heresy, which had pen­etrat­ed in­to these re­gions prob­ably by trade routes, came orig­inal­ly from east­ern Eu­rope. The name of Bul­gar­ians (Bougres) was of­ten ap­plied to the Al­bi­gens­es, and they al­ways kept up in­ter­course with the Bo­gomil sec­taries of Thrace. Their du­al­ist doc­trines, as de­scribed by con­tro­ver­sial­ists, present nu­mer­ous re­sem­blances to those of the Bo­gomils, and still more to those of the Pauli­cians, with whom they are some­times con­nect­ed. It is ex­ceed­ing­ly dif­fi­cult, how­ev­er, to form any very pre­cise idea of the Al­bi­gen­sian doc­trines, as our knowl­edge of them is de­rived from their op­po­nents, and the very rare texts em­anat­ing from the Al­bi­gens­es which have come down to us (e.g. the Rit­uel cathare de Ly­on and the Nou­veau Tes­ta­ment en proven­cal) con­tain very in­ad­equate in­for­ma­tion con­cern­ing their meta­phys­ical prin­ci­ples and moral prac­tice. What is cer­tain is that, above all, they formed an an­ti-​sac­er­do­tal par­ty in per­ma­nent op­po­si­tion to the Ro­man church, and raised a con­tin­ued protest against the cor­rup­tion of the cler­gy of their time. The Al­bi­gen­sian the­olo­gians and as­cetics, the Cathari or per­fec­ti, known in the south of France as bons hommes or bons chre­tiens, were few in num­ber; the mass of be­liev­ers (cre­dentes) were per­haps not ini­ti­at­ed in­to the Catharist doc­trine; at all events, they were free from all moral pro­hi­bi­tion and all re­li­gious obli­ga­tion, on con­di­tion that they promised by an act called con­ve­nen­za to be­come “hereti­cized” by re­ceiv­ing the con­so­la­men­tum, the bap­tism of the Spir­it, be­fore their death or even in ex­trem­is.

The first Catharist heretics ap­peared in Limousin be­tween 1012 and 1020. Sev­er­al were dis­cov­ered and put to death at Toulouse in 1022; and the syn­od of Char­roux (dep. of Vi­enne) in 1028, and that of Toulouse in 1056, con­demned the grow­ing sect. The preach­ers Raoul Ar­dent in 1101 and Robert of Ar­bris­sel in 1114 were sum­moned to the dis­tricts of the Age­nais and the Toulou­sain to com­bat the hereti­cal pro­pa­gan­da. But, pro­tect­ed by William IX., duke of Aquitaine, and soon by a great part of the south­ern no­bil­ity, the heretics gained ground in the south, and in 1119 the coun­cil of Toulouse in vain or­dered the sec­ular pow­ers to as­sist the ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal au­thor­ity in quelling the heresy. The peo­ple were at­tached to the bons hommes, whose as­ceti­cism im­posed up­on the mass­es, and the an­ti-​sac­er­do­tal preach­ing of Pe­ter of Bruys and Hen­ry of Lau­sanne in Perig­ord. Langue­doc and Provence, on­ly fa­cil­itat­ed the progress of Catharism in those re­gions. In 1147 Pope Eu­ge­nius III. sent the legate Al­ber­ic of Os­tia and St Bernard to the af­fect­ed dis­trict. The few iso­lat­ed suc­cess­es of the ab­bot of Clair­vaux could not ob­scure the re­al re­sults of this mis­sion, and the meet­ing at Lombers in 1165 of a syn­od, where Catholic priests had to sub­mit to a dis­cus­sion with Catharist doc­tors, well shows the pow­er of the sect in the south of France at that pe­ri­od. More­over. two years af­ter­wards a Catharist syn­od, in which heretics from Langue­doc, Bul­gar­ia and Italy took part, was held at St Fe­lix de Cara­man, near Toulouse, and their de­lib­er­ations were undis­turbed. The mis­sions of Car­di­nal Pe­ter (of St Chryso­gonus). for­mer­ly bish­op of Meaux, to Toulouse and the Toulou­sain in 1178, and of Hen­ry, car­di­nal-​bish­op of Al­bano (for­mer­ly ab­bot ol Clair­vaux), in 1180-1181, ob­tained mere­ly mo­men­tary suc­cess­es. Hen­ry of Al­bano at­tempt­ed an armed ex­pe­di­tion against the stronghold of heretics at Lavaur and against Ray­mond Roger. vis­count of Beziers, their ac­knowl­edged pro­tec­tor. The tak­ing of Lavaur and the sub­mis­sion of Ray­mond Roger in no way ar­rest­ed the progress of the heresy. The per­sis­tent de­ci­sions of the coun­cils against the heretics at this pe­ri­od–in par­tic­ular, those of the coun­cil of Tours (1163) and of the oe­cu­meni­cal Lat­er­an coun­cil (1179)—had scarce­ly more ef­fect. But on as­cend­ing the pa­pal throne, In­no­cent III. re­solved to sup­press the Al­bi­gens­es. At first he tried pa­cif­ic con­ver­sion, and in 1198 and 1199 sent in­to the af­fect­ed re­gions two Cis­ter­cian monks, Reg­nier and Guy, and in 1203 two monks of Font­froide, Pe­ter of Castel­nau and Raoul (Ralph), with whom in 1204 he even as­so­ci­at­ed the Cis­ter­cian ab­bot, Ar­naud (Arnold). They had to con­tend not on­ly with the heretics, the no­bles who pro­tect­ed them, and the peo­ple who lis­tened to them and ven­er­at­ed them, but al­so with the bish­ops of the dis­trict, who re­ject­ed the ex­traor­di­nary au­thor­ity which the pope had con­ferred up­on his legates, the monks. In 1204 In­no­cent III. sus­pend­ed the au­thor­ity of the bish­ops of the south of France. Pe­ter of Castel­nau re­tal­iat­ed by ex­com­mu­ni­cat­ing Ray­mond VI., count of Toulouse, as an abet­tor of heresy (i207), and kin­dled in the no­bles of the south that an­imos­ity of which he was the first vic­tim (1209). As soon as he heard of the mur­der of Pe­ter of Castel­nau, the pope or­dered the Cis­ter­cians to preach the cru­sade against the Al­bi­gens­es. This im­pla­ca­ble war, which threw the whole of the no­bil­ity of the north of France against that of the south, and de­stroyed the bril­liant Proven­cal civ­iliza­tion, end­ed, po­lit­ical­ly, in the treaty of Paris (1229), by which the king of France dis­pos­sessed the house of Toulouse of the greater part of its fiefs, and that of Beziers of the whole of its fiefs. The in­de­pen­dence of the princes of the south was at an end, but, so far as the heresy was con­cerned, Al­bi­gen­sian­ism was not ex­tin­guished, in spite of the whole­sale mas­sacres of heretics dur­ing the war. Ray­mond VII. of Toulouse and the count of Foix gave asy­lum to the “faid­its” (pro­scrtbed), and the peo­ple were averse from hand­ing over the bo­nis hommes. The In­qui­si­tion, how­ev­er, op­er­at­ing un­remit­ting­ly in the south at Toulouse, Al­bi, Car­cas­sonne and oth­er towns dur­ing the whole of the 13th cen­tu­ry and a great part of the 14th, suc­ceed­ed in crush­ing the heresy. There were in­deed some out­bursts of re­bel­lion, some fo­ment­ed by the no­bles of Langue­doc (12401242), and oth­ers em­anat­ing from the peo­ple of the towns, who were em­bit­tered by con­fis­ca­tions and re­li­gious per­se­cu­tions (e.g. at Nar­bonne in 1234 and Toulouse in 1235), but the re­pres­sive mea­sures were ter­ri­ble. In 1245 the roy­al of­fi­cers as­sist­ing the In­qui­si­tion seized the hereti­cal citadel of Montse­gur, and 200 Cathari were burned in one day. More­over, the church de­creed se­vere chas­tise­ment against all lay­men sus­pect­ed of sym­pa­thy with the heretics (coun­cil of Nar­bonne, 1235; Bull Ad ex­tir­pan­da, 1252).

Hunt­ed down by the In­qui­si­tion and quick­ly aban­doned by the no­bles of the dis­trict, the Al­bi­gens­es be­came more and more scat­tered, hid­ing in the forests and moun­tains, and on­ly meet­ing sur­rep­ti­tious­ly. There were some re­crude­scences of heresy, such as that pro­duced by the preach­ing (1298-1509) of the Catharist min­is­ter, Pierre Au­thi­er; the peo­ple, too, made some at­tempts to throw off the yoke of the In­qui­si­tion and the French,i and in­sur­rec­tions broke out un­der the lead­er­ship of Bernard of Foix, Aimerv of Nar­bonne, and, es­pe­cial­ly, Bernard Deli­cieux at the be­gin­ning of the 14th cen­tu­ry. But at this point vast in­quests were set on foot by the In­qui­si­tion, which ter­ror­ized the dis­trict. Pre­cise in­di­ca­tions of these are found in the reg­is­ters of the In­quisi­tors, Bernard of Caux, Jean de St Pierre, Ge­of­froy d’Ab­lis, and oth­ers. The sect, more­over, was ex­haust­ed and could find no more adepts in a dis­trict which, by fair means or foul, had ar­rived at a state of peace and po­lit­ical and re­li­gious uni­ty. Af­ter 1330 the records of the In­qui­si­tion con­tain but few pro­ceed­ings against Catharists. (See al­so un­der CATHARS.)

AU­THOR­ITIES.—See C. Schmidt’s His­toire de la secte des Cathares ou Al­bi­geois (Paris, 1849), which is still the most im­por­tant work on the sub­ject. The fol­low­ing will be found use­ful: D. Vais­sete, His­toire de Langue­doc, vols. iii. iv. vii. vi­ii. (new edi­tion); Ch. Molin­ier, L’In­qui­si­tion dans le Mi­di de la France (Paris, 1880), and the oth­er works by the same au­thor; L. Tanon, His­toire des tri­bunaux de l’In­qui­si­tion en France (Paris, 1893). Les Al­bi­geois, leurs orig­ines (Paris, 1878), by Douais, should be read with cau­tion. Of the sources, which are very nu­mer­ous, may be men­tioned: the Liber Sen­ten­tiarum of the In­qui­si­tion of Car­cas­sonne, pub­lished by Ph. van Lim­borch at the end of his His­to­ria In­qui­si­tio­nis (Am­ster­dam, 1692): oth­er reg­is­ters of the in­qui­si­tion anal­ysed at length by Ch. Molin­ier, op cit., some pub­lished in vol. ii. of the Doc­uments pour l’his­toire de l’In­qui­si­tion (Paris, 1900), by C. Douais; nu­mer­ous texts con­cern­ing the last days of Al­bi­gen­sian­ism, col­lect­ed by M. Vi­dal, “Les derniers min­istres al­bi­geois,’ in Rev. de quest. his­tor. (1906). See al­so the Rit­uel cathare, ed. by Cu­nitz (Je­na, 1852); the Nou­veau Tes­ta­ment en proven­cal, ed. by Cle­dat (Paris, 1887); and the very cu­ri­ous De­bat d’Yzarn et de Sicart de Figueiras, ed. by P. Mey­er (1880). On the ethics of the Catharists, see Jean Guiraud, Ques­tions d’his­toire et d’arche­olo­gie chre­ti­enne (Paris, 1906); and P. Al­phan­dery, Les idees morales chez les het­ero­dox­es latins au de­but du XI­IIe siecle (Paris, 1903). (P. A.)

1 These they of­ten con­found­ed and a heretic is de­scribed aa say­ing: “Cler­gy and French, they are one and the same thing.”

AL­BI­NO, a bi­olog­ical term (Lat. al­bus, white), in the usu­al ac­cep­ta­tion, for a pig­ment­less in­di­vid­ual of a nor­mal­ly pig­ment­ed race. Among some flow­er­ing plants, how­ev­er, the char­ac­ter has be­come one of spe­cif­ic rank, .and among an­imals we have in the po­lar bear and the Green­land hare in­stances where par­tial al­binism–for in them the eyes are black and oth­er parts may be pig­ment­ed–has al­so be­come a spe­cif­ic char­ac­ter.

A true or com­plete al­bi­no is al­to­geth­er de­void of pig­ment. One re­sult of this among the Ver­te­bra­ta is that the eye­ball is pink in colour, since the cornea, iris and reti­na be­ing trans­par­ent, the red blood con­tained in the cap­il­lar­ies is un­masked by the ab­sence of pig­men­tary ma­te­ri­al. In man, and doubt­less al­so in low­er forms, the ab­sence of this pig­ment pro­duces the well marked al­binot­ic fa­cies. This is a con­di­tion in which the eye­lids are brought in­to a near­ly closed po­si­tion ac­com­pa­nied by blink­ing move­ments and a gen­er­al wrin­kling of the skin around the im­me­di­ate neigh­bour­hood of the eyes. It is the re­sult of the too great in­ten­si­ty of the light in­ci­dent up­on the reti­na, and which in nor­mal eye­balls is ad­equate­ly di­min­ished by the ab­sorp­tive pow­er of the pig­men­tary ma­te­ri­al.

In a com­plete al­bi­no not on­ly is all pig­ment ab­sent in the skin, but al­so that which is nor­mal­ly present in deep­er or­gans, such as the sym­pa­thet­ic ner­vous sys­tem and in the sub­stan­lia ni­gra of the brain. There is some rea­son to be­lieve that a pe­cu­liar con­di­tion found in the ma­jor­ity of hu­man al­bi­noes, and knovn as nys­tag­mus, is cor­re­lat­ed with the ab­sence of pig­ment in the cen­tral ner­vous sys­tem. This con­di­tion is one marked by un­steadi­ness—a sort of flick­er­ing rolling–of the eye­balls, and it be­comes more marked as they en­deav­our to ad­just their ac­com­mo­da­tion to near ob­jects. It is thought to de­pend up­on some con­nex­ion, not yet anatom­ical­ly demon­strat­ed, be­tween the third cra­nial nerve and its nu­cle­us in the floor of the iter and the sub­stan­tia ni­gra.

In ad­di­tion to com­plete al­binism, there ex­ist, how­ev­er, var­ious al­binot­ic con­di­tions in which more or less pig­ment may be present. Fa­mil­iar in­stances of this par­tial al­binism is seen in the do­mes­tic breed of Hi­malayan rab­bits. In these an­imals the eye­ball and the fur of the body are un­pig­ment­ed, but the tips of the ear pin­nae and ex­trem­ities of the fore and hind limbs, to­geth­er with the tail, are marked by more or less well de­fined colour. One re­mark­able fea­ture of these an­imals is that for a few months af­ter birth they are com­plete al­bi­noes. Oc­ca­sion­al­ly, how­ev­er, some are born with a grey colour and a few may be quite black, but ul­ti­mate­ly they at­tain their char­ac­ter­is­tic coat. There is some rea­son to be­lieve, as we shall see lat­er, that in spite of the pres­ence of a lit­tle pig­ment and of oc­ca­sion­al whol­ly pig­ment­ed young ones, Hi­malayans must be re­gard­ed as true al­bi­noes. Oth­er in­di­vid­ual rab­bits, but be­long­ing to no par­tic­ular breed, are sim­ilar­ly marked, but in ad­di­tion the eye­balls arc black. Some do­mes­ti­cat­ed mice are en­tire­ly white with the ex­cep­tion that they have black eye­balls; and in­di­vid­uals of this type are known in which there is a re­duc­tion of pig­ment in the eye­balls, and since the colour of the blood is then par­tial­ly vis­ible these ap­pear of a red­dish-​black colour. Such cas­es are in­ter­est­ing as rep­re­sent­ing the last step in the grad­ed se­ries through which the con­di­tion of com­plete pig­men­ta­tion pass­es in­to that of com­plete al­binism.

There is ev­idence, as shown by G. M. Allen, that par­tial al­binism is a con­di­tion in which pig­ment is re­duced around def­inite body cen­tres, so that un­pig­ment­ed ar­eas oc­cur be­tween the pig­ment patch­es or at their bor­ders. In the mouse, ten such cen­tres may be dis­tin­guished, ar­ranged sym­met­ri­cal­ly five on ei­ther side of the me­di­an plane—a cheek patch, neck patch, shoul­der patch, side patch and rump patch. Var­ious de­grees in the re­duc­tion of the pig­ment patch­es up to that of com­plete elim­ina­tion may be traced.

Some an­imals are whol­ly pig­ment­ed dur­ing the sum­mer and au­tumn, but through the win­ter and spring they are in the con­di­tion of ex­treme par­tial al­binism and be­come al­most com­plete al­bi­noes. Such in­stances are found in the Scotch blue hare (Le­pus timidus), in the Nor­way hare, in the North Amer­ican hare (H. amer­ica­nius), in the arc­tic fox (Ca­nis lago­pus), in the stoat and er­mine, and among birds, in the ptarmi­gan, and some oth­er species of Lago­pus. How the change from the au­tum­nal to the win­ter con­di­tion takes place ap­pears not to be def­inite­ly set­tled in all cas­es, and ac­cu­rate ob­ser­va­tions are much to be de­sired. In the case of the Nor­way hare, it has been stat­ed that a gen­er­al moult, in­clud­ing all the hairs and un­der fur, takes place and new white hairs are sub­sti­tut­ed. The pro­cess of moult­ing is said to be­gin in the mid­dle of au­tumn and is com­plet­ed be­fore the end of De­cem­ber, by which time the fur is in its win­ter con­di­tion, and is clos­er, fuller and longer than in sum­mer (Nat­ural­ists’ Li­brary, vol. vii.). On the oth­er hand, it has been stat­ed that dur­ing the whole of the trans­for­ma­tion in the fur no hairs fall from the an­imal, and it is at­tribut­ed to an ac­tu­al change in the colour of the hair (Ed­in­burgh Philo­soph­ical Jour­nal, vol. xi. p. 191). In the case of the Amer­ican hare, how­ev­er, some very care­ful ob­ser­va­tions have been made by F. H. Welch. In this an­imal the long hairs (which form the pile) be­come white at their ex­trem­ities, and in some of them this white­ness ex­tends through their whole length. At the same time, new hairs be­gin to de­vel­op and to grow rapid­ly, and soon out­strip the hairs of the au­tumn pile. From their first ap­pear­ance these new hairs are white and stiff, and they are con­fined to the sides and back of the body. It is not clear from Welch’s ac­count what is the cause of the white­ness of the tips of the hairs of the au­tumn coat, but his fig­ures sug­gest that it is due to the de­vel­op­ment of gas in the in­ter­spaces be­tween the ker­atin bridges and tra­bec­ulae of the hairs. There is noth­ing to show whether the pig­ment per­sists or is ab­sorbed. Prob­ably it per­sists. In this event, the white­ness of the tips will be due to the scat­ter­ing or ir­reg­ular re­flex­ion of the in­ci­dent rays of light from the sur­face of the nu­mer­ous gas bub­bles. In the case of the ptarmi­gan the ev­idence is clear that the ex­ist­ing au­tum­nal feath­ers do change, more or less com­plete­ly, to white. But the ev­idence is not con­clu­sive as to whether any part of the win­ter con­di­tion is ad­di­tion­al­ly pro­duced by moult­ing.

The con­di­tion of al­binism thus as­sumed as a sea­son­al vari­ation is nev­er com­plete, for the eyes at least re­tain their pig­ment­ed state. The rea­son of this is read­ily un­der­stood when it is borne in mind how dis­ad­van­ta­geous to the func­tion of sight is the un­pig­ment­ed con­di­tion of an al­bi­no’s eye­ball; a dis­ad­van­tage which would be prob­ably much ac­cen­tu­at­ed, in the cas­es now un­der con­sid­er­ation, by the bright glare from the sur­face of the snow, which forms the nat­ural en­vi­ron­ment of these an­imals at the par­tic­ular pe­ri­od of the year when the win­ter change oc­curs. In some cas­es, as in all the vary­ing hares, in ad­di­tion to the eyes re­tain­ing their nor­mal pig­men­ta­tion, ar­eas sim­ilar in ex­tent and sit­ua­tion to those on the Hi­malayan rab­bits al­so re­tain their pig­men­ta­tion; and in the ptarmi­gan there is a black band on each side of the head stretch­ing for­wards and back­wards from the eye­ball, and the out­er tail feath­ers are black.

Al­binism is re­strict­ed to no par­tic­ular class of the an­imal king­dom; for par­tial al­binism at least is known to oc­cur in Coe­len­tera, worms, Crus­tacea, Myr­iapo­da, Coleoptera,Arach­ni­da and fish­es. The in­di­vid­uals in which this di­min­ished pig­men­ta­tion is found are for the most part those liv­ing in caves, and it is prob­able that their con­di­tion is not tru­ly al­binot­ic, but on­ly tem­po­rary and due to the ab­sence of the stim­ulus of light. This may be al­so true of some of those in­stances that have oc­curred among frogs, in Pro­teus, and with an ax­olotl once pos­sessed by the present writ­er. This lat­ter an­imal was quite white, with the ex­cep­tion of the black eye­balls. At the end of four weeks af­ter it was first pur­chased the dor­sal or up­per sur­face of its ex­ter­nal gills de­vel­oped a small amount of dark pig­ment. With­in the next few weeks this in­creased in quan­ti­ty and the dor­sal sur­face of the head and of the front end of the trunk be­gan to be pig­ment­ed. The an­imal died at the end of the eighth week, but it is pos­si­ble that had it lived it would have be­come whol­ly pig­ment­ed. But, apart from these in­stances, al­binism is known, ac­cord­ing to W. E. Cas­tle, who cites it on the au­thor­ity of Hugh M. Smith, to oc­cur among a breed of al­bi­no trout, which breed true and are reared in the State fish-​hatcheries of Amer­ica. With birds and mam­mals, how­ev­er, there is no doubt that com­plete al­bi­no in­di­vid­uals do oc­cur; and among species which, like the jack­daw, cer­tain deer and rab­bits, are nor­mal­ly deeply pig­ment­ed.

Al­binism oc­curs in all races of mankind, among moun­tain­ous as well as low­land dwellers. And, with man, as with oth­er an­imals, it may be com­plete or par­tial. In­stances of the lat­ter con­di­tion are very com­mon among the ne­groes of the Unit­ed States and of South Amer­ica, and in them as­sumes a piebald char­ac­ter, ir­reg­ular white patch­es be­ing scat­tered over the gen­er­al black sur­face of the body. Oc­ca­sion­al­ly the piebald patch­es tend to be sym­met­ri­cal­ly ar­ranged, and some­times the eye­balls are pig­ment­less (pink) and some­times pig­ment­ed (black).

Ac­cord­ing to A. R. Gunn, of Ed­in­burgh Dniver­si­ty, who has re­cent­ly been in­ves­ti­gat­ing the sub­ject of al­binism in man, there is rea­son to be­lieve that a con­di­tion of piebald al­binism oc­curs al­so in Eu­ro­peans (Scots­men). He has ex­am­ined sub­jects in which the whole of the hair of the body is white, but the eye­balls are pig­ment­ed, of­ten deeply; and, con­verse­ly, he has seen cas­es in which the eyes are pink but the hair is pig­ment­ed. The hair and the eyes may be re­gard­ed as skin patch­es, in which some­times the one and some­times the oth­er is pig­ment­less. He be­lieves that, were it not for the gen­er­al­ly very pale colour of white-​skinned races, this piebald con­di­tion would be as man­ifest in them as in ne­groes, over the whole sur­face of the body.

In com­plete hu­man al­bi­noes, al­binism is cor­re­lat­ed, in ad­di­tion to nys­tag­mus, with a pe­cu­liar rough­ness of the skin, mak­ing it harsh to the touch. The skin is al­so milky-​white in ap­pear­ance.

Ac­cord­ing to C. J. Se­hg­mann, there ex­ists among the Papuans an al­binot­ic race whose skin varies in colour from a pink-​white to that of cafe au lait; the eyes are gen­er­al­ly green­ish, hazel or brown, and the hair is tow-​coloured. The skin where un­ex­posed is pinker than that of a nor­mal North Eu­ro­pean. Like com­plete al­bi­noes, this race suf­fers from pho­to­pho­bia, and is char­ac­ter­ized by the al­binot­ic fa­cies.

Be­fore we can in­quire in­to the cause and mean­ing of al­binism it will be nec­es­sary first to con­sid­er the na­ture Of pig­men­ta­tion. It has re­cent­ly been as­cer­tained that the col­oration of cer­tain sponges is due to the in­ter­ac­tion of an oxy­diz­ing fer­ment, ty­rosi­nase, up­on cer­tain colour­less chro­mogenic sub­stances. In 1901, Ot­to v. Furth and Hugo Schnei­der showed that a ty­rosi­nase could be ob­tained from the blood of cer­tain in­sects, and, act­ing up­on a chro­mogen present in the blood, con­vert­ed it in­to a pig­men­tary sub­stance of melanin-​like na­ture. Hans Prz­ibram al­so ex­tract­ed a ty­rosi­nase from the ink-​sac of Sepia, and, caus­ing it to act up­on a wa­tery so­lu­tion of ty­rosin, ob­tained a black pig­ment. From the blood of Bom­byx mori, fe. von Duc­ceshi has al­so ob­tained a ty­rosi­nase.

Sub­se­quent­ly (1903) L. Cuenot, in or­der to ex­plain cer­tain fea­tures in the hered­itary trans­mis­sion of coat colour in mice, pos­tu­lat­ed the hy­poth­esis that the grey colour of the wild mouse (which is known to be a com­pound of black, choco­late and yel­low pig­ments) may be due ei­ther to the in­ter­ac­tion of a sin­gle fer­ment and three chro­mogens, or vice ver­sa, to one chro­mogenic sub­stance and three fer­ments.

Since then (1904) Miss Flo­rence Durham has shown that if the skins of young or em­bry­on­ic mam­mals (rats, rab­bits and guinea-​pigs) be ground up and ex­tract­ed in wa­ter, and the ex­pressed juice be then in­cu­bat­ed with sol­id ty­rosin for twen­ty-​four hours, with the ad­di­tion of a very small amount of fer­rous sul­phate to act as an ac­ti­va­tor, a pig­men­tary sub­stance is thrown down. The colour of this sub­stance is that of the pig­ment in the skin or hairs of the an­imal used. Miss Durham in­ter­prets her re­sults as in­di­cat­ing that the skin of these pig­ment­ed an­imals nor­mal­ly se­cretes one or more ty­rosi­nas­es. The same re­sult was ob­tained from the skins of some un­hatched chick­ens. The skins of al­bi­noes gave no re­sults.

Not on­ly have such re­suits been ob­tained with sponges, In­sects, cephalopods, birds and mam­mals, but Em. Bourquelot and G. Bertrand have shown that cer­tain fun­gi, the tis­sues of which, when ex­posed to the air by in­jury, be­come im­me­di­ate­ly coloured, do so ow­ing to the ac­tion of ty­rosi­nase up­on one or more chro­moge­nous sub­stances present in the plant. We may con­ceive, then, that a pig­ment­ed an­imal owes its colour to the pow­er that cer­tain tis­sues of its body pos­sess to se­crete both ty­rosi­nas­es and chro­mogenic sub­stances. And the pe­ri­od at which this pro­cess is most ac­tive is at birth, or pre­ced­ing it or im­me­di­ate­ly suc­ceed­ing it. In spite of the in­quiry be­ing on­ly in its ini­tial stages, there is al­ready good ev­idence to be­lieve that Cuenot’s the­ory is cor­rect, and that an al­bi­no is an in­di­vid­ual whose skin lacks the pow­er to se­crete ei­ther the fer­ment or the chro­mogen. It forms one but not both of these sub­stances.

A mo­ment’s con­sid­er­ation, how­ev­er, will show that, while an al­bi­no may be an in­di­vid­ual in which one or more of the com­ple­men­tary bod­ies of pig­men­ta­tion are ab­sent, a pig­ment­ed an­imal is some­thing more than an in­di­vid­ual which car­ries all the fac­tors nec­es­sary for the de­vel­op­ment of colour. For it must be borne in mind that an­imals are not on­ly coloured but the colour is ar­ranged in a more or less def­inite pat­tern. The wild mouse, rat and rab­bit are self-​coloured, but the do­mes­ti­cat­ed forms in­clude var­ious piebald pat­terns, such as spot­ted forms among mice, and the fa­mil­iar black and white hood­ed and dor­sal-​striped pat­tern of some tame rats.

Colour, there­fore, must be cor­re­lat­ed with some de­ter­mi­nant (de­ter­min­ing fac­tor) for pat­tern, and it can­not, there­fore, ex­ist alone in an an­imal’s coat. And we must con­ceive that each kind of pat­tern—the self, the spot­ted, the striped, the hood­ed and all oth­ers—has its own spe­cial de­ter­mi­nant. Giv­en the pres­ence of all the nec­es­sary de­ter­mi­nants for the de­vel­op­ment of pig­ment in a mam­mal’s coat, some or all of the hairs may bear this pig­ment ac­cord­ing to the pat­tern de­ter­mi­nants, or ab­sence of pat­tern de­ter­mi­nants, which the cells of the hair papil­lae car­ry. And this brings us to the ques­tion as to whether in a piebald an­imal the pig­ment­ed hairs are in any way dif­fer­ent from the pig­ment­less or white hairs. No ad­equate in­ves­ti­ga­tion of this sub­ject has yet been made, but some ob­ser­va­tions made by the au­thor of this ar­ti­cle, on the piebald black and white rat, show that dif­fer­ences con­nect­ed with the mi­cro­scop­ic struc­ture ex­ist.

There is thus ev­idence that colour is cor­re­lat­ed with oth­er fac­tors which de­ter­mine pat­tern. And this leads to the in­quiry as to whether al­bi­noes ev­er ex­hib­it ev­idence that they car­ry the pat­tern de­ter­mi­nants in the ab­sence of those for pig­men­ta­tion. For it is to be ex­pect­ed a pri­ori that, since al­bi­noes were de­rived from pig­ment­ed pro­gen­itors and may at any time ap­pear, side by side with pig­ment­ed broth­ers, in a lit­ter from pig­ment­ed par­ents, they would be car­ry­ing the pat­tern de­ter­mi­nants of some one or oth­er of their pig­ment­ed an­ces­tors. Now we know, from the nu­mer­ous ex­per­iments in hered­ity which have re­sult­ed since the re­dis­cov­ery of Mendel’s prin­ci­ples, that an in­di­vid­ual may car­ry a char­ac­ter in one of two con­di­tions. It may be car­ried as a so­mat­ic char­ac­ter, when it will be vis­ible in the body tis­sues, or it may be car­ried as a ga­met­ic char­ac­ter, and its pres­ence can on­ly then be de­tect­ed in sub­se­quent gen­er­ations, by ad­equate­ly de­vised breed­ing tests.

With re­gard to pat­tern, the ev­idence is now clear that al­bi­noes may car­ry the de­ter­mi­nants in both these ways. So far as they are car­ried ga­met­ical­ly, i.e. by the sex-​cells, it has been shown by Cuenot and G. M. Allen for mice, by C. C. Hurst for rab­bits, and by L. Don­cast­er and G. P. Mudge for rats, that in a cross be­tween a coloured in­di­vid­ual of known ga­met­ic pu­ri­ty and an al­bi­no, the in­di­vid­uals of the proge­ny in ei­ther the first or sec­ond, or both gen­er­ations, may dif­fer, and that the dif­fer­ence in some cas­es whol­ly de­pends up­on the ai­hi­no used. It has been shown that the in­di­vid­uals in such an off­spring may bear pat­terns which nev­er oc­curred in the an­ces­try of the coloured par­ent, but did in that of the al­bi­no; and, more­over, if the same coloured par­ent be mat­ed with an­oth­er in­di­vid­ual, ei­ther al­bi­no or coloured, that their off­spring may nev­er con­tain mem­bers bear­ing such pat­terns. The par­tic­ular pat­tern will on­ly ap­pear when the coloured par­ent is mat­ed with the par­tic­ular al­bi­no. And yet the al­bi­no it­self shows no so­mat­ic pat­tern or pig­ment. So clear is the ev­idence on this point that any one ad­equate­ly ac­quaint­ed at first hand with the phe­nom­ena, by em­ploy­ing an al­bi­no of known ga­met­ic struc­ture and mat­ing it with a coloured in­di­vid­ual, al­so of known ga­met­ic con­sti­tu­tion, could pre­dict the re­sult.

With re­spect to al­bi­noes car­ry­ing pat­tern as a vis­ible so­matiu char­ac­ter, i.e. in the body cells, no def­inite ev­idence has as yet been pub­lished. But W. Haacke has de­scribed a sin­gle al­bi­no rat, in which he states that the hairs of the shoul­der and mid-​dor­sal re­gions were of a dif­fer­ent tex­ture from those of the rest of the body. And it is pos­si­ble that this al­bi­no, had it de­vel­oped colour, would have been of the piebald pat­tern. But the au­thor of this ar­ti­cle has quite re­cent­ly reared some al­bi­noes in which the fa­mil­iar shoul­der hood and dor­sah stripe of the piebald rat is per­fect­ly ob­vi­ous, in spite of the ab­sence of the slight­est pig­men­ta­tion. The hairs which oc­cu­py the re­gion which in the pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­ual is black, are longer, thin­ner and more wide­ly sep­arat­ed than those in the re­gions which are white. As a re­sult of this, the pink skin is quite vis­ible where these hairs oc­cur, but else­where it is in­vis­ible. Thus these al­binocs ex­hib­it a pat­tern of pink skin sim­ilar in form with the black pat­tern of the piebald rat. More­over, some of the al­bi­noes pos­sess these par­tic­ular “pat­tern” hairs all over the body and ob­vi­ous­ly such in­di­vid­uals are car­ry­ing the self pat­tern. There are oth­er de­tails in­to which we can­not here en­ter, but which sup­port the in­ter­pre­ta­tion put up­on these facts, i.e: that these par­tic­ular al­bi­noes are car­ry­ing in the so­ma the pat­tern de­ter­mi­nants si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly with the ab­sence of some of the fac­tors for pig­men­ta­tion.

Not on­ly do al­bi­noes thus car­ry the de­ter­mi­nants for pat­tern, but it has been known for some time that they al­so car­ry ga­met­ical­ly, but nev­er vis­ible so­mat­ical­ly, the de­ter­mi­nants for ei­ther the fer­ment or the chro­mogen for one or more colours. L. Cuenot was the first to show this for al­bi­no mice. He was able by ap­pro­pri­ate ex­per­iments to demon­strate that when an al­bi­no is de­rived (ex­tract­ed) from a coloured an­ces­try, and is then crossed with a coloured in­di­vid­ual, both the colour of the pig­ment­ed par­ent and of the pig­ment­ed an­ces­try of the al­bi­no may ap­pear among the in­di­vid­uals of the off­spring.

Im­me­di­ate­ly sub­se­quent to Cuenot, G. M. Allen in Ameri­ia demon­strat­ed the same Jact up­on the same species of ro­dents. C. C. Hurst, more re­cent­ly, has shown that al­bi­no rab­bits. whether pure bred for eight gen­er­ations at least, or ex­tract­ed from pig­ment­ed par­ents, may car­ry the de­ter­mi­nants for black or for black and grey. In this lat­ter case the de­ter­mi­nants for black are car­ried by sep­arate ga­metes from those car­ry­ing grey, and the two kinds of sex-​cells ex­ist in ap­prox­imate­ly equal num­bers. This is like­wise true of al­bi­no mice when they car­ry the de­ter­mi­nants for more than one colour.

Since Hurst’s work, L. Don­cast­er and G. P. Mudge have both shown that al­bi­no rats al­so car­ry in a la­tent con­di­tion the de­ter­mi­nants for black or grey. The ex­per­iments of the lat­ter au­thor show that, if a ga­met­ical­ly pure black rat be crossed with an al­bi­no de­rived from a piebald black and white an­ces­try, all the off­spring in suc­ces­sive lit­ters will be black; but if the same black par­ent be crossed with al­bi­noes ex­tract­ed from par­ents of which One or both are grey, then both grey and black mem­bers will ap­pear in the suc­ces­sive lit­ters.

The pro­por­tions in which the var­ious coloured in­di­vid­uals ap­pear are ap­prox­imate­ly those de­mand­ed by the Mendelian prin­ci­ple of ga­met­ic pu­ri­ty and seg­re­ga­tion. Cuenot and Hurst have al­so shown that when al­bi­noes of one colour ex­trac­tion are crossed with al­bi­noes of an­oth­er colour ex­trac­tion the seg­re­ga­tion of the colour de­ter­mi­nants in the ga­me­to­ge­ne­sis of the al­bi­noes takes place in pre­cise­ly the same way that it does in the ga­me­to­ge­ne­sis of a pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­ual; that is, in Mendelian fash­ion. Or, to ex­press it oth­er­wise, an al­bi­no ex­tract­ed from yel­low par­ents, bred with an al­bi­no ex­tract­ed from black par­ents, will give an al­bi­no off­spring whose ga­metes in equal num­bers are bear­ers of the black and yel­low de­ter­mi­nants. And when one of these al­bi­noes is bred with a pure coloured in­di­vid­ual, a mixed off­spring will ap­pear in the first gen­er­ation. Some of the in­di­vid­uals will be one or oth­er of the two colours, the de­ter­mi­nants of which were borne by the al­bi­no, and oth­ers the colour of the pig­ment­ed par­ent. But in such al­bi­no cross­es the colour char­ac­ters are la­tent be­cause al­bi­noes do not car­ry the whole of the com­ple­ments for colour pro­duc­tion. They car­ry on­ly some de­ter­mi­nant or de­ter­mi­nants which are ca­pa­ble of de­vel­op­ing colour when they in­ter­act with some oth­er de­ter­mi­nant or de­ter­mi­nants car­ried alone by pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­uals. Whether al­bi­noes car­ry the ty­rosi­nase or oth­er fer­ment, or whether they car­ry the chro­mogen or chro­mogens, is not yet set­tled. Miss Durham’s work sug­gests that they car­ry the lat­ter. But that they nev­er bear both is proved by the fact that, when al­bi­noes are crossed with each oth­er, none but al­bi­noes ev­er re­sult in the off­spring. One ap­par­ent ex­cep­tion to this rule on­ly is known, and this al­most cer­tain­ly was due to er­ror.

It is not on­ly among al­bi­no an­imals that colour fac­tors are car­ried in a la­tent con­di­tion, but al­so in white flow­ers. W.. Bate­son has shown this to be the case for the sweet-​pea (Lath­yrus odor­atus), var. Emi­ly Hen­der­son, and for cer­tain white and cream stocks (Matthi­ola.) When white Emi­ly Hen­der­son (the race hav­ing round pollen grains) is crossed with a blue-​flow­ered pea, pur­ple off­spring re­sult. Sim­ilar­ly, when white Emi­ly Hen­der­son (long pollen grains) is crossed with white Emi­ly Hen­der­son (round pollen grains), the off­spring whol­ly con­sists of the re­ver­sion­ary pur­ple type, and some­times whol­ly of a red bi­col­or form known as “Paint­ed La­dy.” These two types nev­er ap­pear in the same fam­ily. With the stocks, when a white-​flow­ered and hair­less form is crossed with a cream-​flow­ered and hair­less one, all the off­spring are pur­ple and hairy. Bate­son con­sid­ers that the pur­ple colour is due to the si­mul­ta­ne­ous ex­is­tence in the plant of two colour fac­tors which may be des­ig­nat­ed by C and R. If ei­ther one of these two is ab­sent the plant is colour­less. Cream-​coloured flow­ers are re­gard­ed as white be­cause cream is due to yel­low plas­tids and not to sap colour. Thus the cream plant may car­ry C and the white one R. When they are crossed the two fac­tors for colour pro­duc­tion are brought to­geth­er. Ob­vi­ous­ly, we may re­gard C as a ty­rosi­nase and R as a chro­mogen, or vice ver­sa; and in the case of the white sweet­pea crossed with a blue-​flow­ered one, and pro­duc­ing pur­ple off­spring, we may imag­ine that the white flow­er brought in an ad­di­tion­al ty­rosi­nase or a chro­mogen not present in the blue flow­er, which, when com­bined or mixed with the chro­mogen or ty­rosi­nase for blue, gave pur­ple. A sim­ilar ex­pla­na­tion may ap­ply to C. Cor­rens’s ex­per­iment, in which he crossed white Mirabilis jala­pa with a yel­low form, and al­ways ob­tained red-​flow­ered off­spring.

In hered­ity, com­plete al­binism among an­imals is al­ways re­ces­sive; and par­tial al­binism (piebald) is al­ways re­ces­sive to com­plete pig­men­ta­tion (self-​coloured). When an al­bi­no mouse, rat, guinea-​pig or rab­bit is crossed with ei­ther a pure self or pure pied-​coloured form, the off­spring are sim­ilar to, though not al­ways ex­act­ly like, the coloured par­ent; pro­vid­ed, of course, that the al­bi­no is pure and is not car­ry­ing some colour or pat­tern de­ter­mi­nant which is dom­inant to that of the coloured par­ent used. No al­bi­noes, in such a case, will ap­pear among the first gen­er­ation, but if the in­di­vid­uals of this (F.1) gen­er­ation are crossed in­ter se or back crossed with the al­bi­no parenr, then al­bi­no in­di­vid­uals reap­pear among the off­spring. In the for­mer case they would form one-​quar­ter of the in­di­vid­uals of this sec­ond (F.2) gen­er­ation, and in the lat­ter, one-​half.

The re­ces­sive na­ture of al­binism and its dis­tri­bu­tion in Mendelian fash­ion is al­most cer­tain­ly as true for man as for low­er forms. This has been shown by W. C. Farabee for ne­groes in Coanoma coun­ty, Mis­sis­sip­pi. The facts are as fol­lows. An al­bi­no ne­gro mar­ried a nor­mal negress. They had three chil­dren, all males. All three sons mar­ried, and two of them had on­ly nor­mal chil­dren, judged of course by so­mat­ic char­ac­ters. But the third son mar­ried twice, and by the first wife had five nor­mal and one al­bi­no chil­dren, and by the sec­ond, six nor­mal and three al­bi­no chil­dren. If we as­sume that the two ne­gress­es which the third son mar­ried were them­selves car­ry­ing al­binism re­ces­sive –an ex­ceed­ing­ly prob­able con­di­tion con­sid­er­ing that al­bi­no ne­groes are not un­com­mon—the re­sult is ac­cu­rate­ly in ac­cor­dance, as W. E. Cas­tle has shown, with Mendelian ex­pec­ta­tion. For there is ex­pect­ed in the off­spring of this third son coloured in­di­vid­uals and al­bi­noes in the pro­por­tion of 3:1. There is ac­tu­al­ly 11:4, which is the near­est pos­si­ble ap­prox­ima­tion with the num­ber 15.

The op­er­ation of Mendelian pro­cess­es in hu­man hered­ity is fur­ther shown by the close re­la­tion­ship that ex­ists be­tween the ap­pear­ance of al­bi­noes and cousin mar­riages. An al­bi­no is a ho­mozy­gote; that is, all its ga­metes are car­ry­ing the char­ac­ter of al­binism and none of them bear the al­ter­na­tive char­ac­ter –the al­lelo­morph—of pig­men­ta­tion. By pig­men­ta­tion is here meant all those fac­tors which go to its pro­duc­tion. Now such a ga­met­ic (egg or sperm) con­sti­tu­tion can on­ly re­sult when two in­di­vid­uals, all or some of whose ga­metes are pure with re­gard to the char­ac­ter al­binism, meet in fer­til­iza­tion. Hence it is read­ily seen that it is among cousin mar­riages that the greater prob­abil­ities ex­ist that two in­di­vid­uals bear­ing iden­ti­cal char­ac­ters will meet, than in the pop­ula­tion at large. This can be il­lus­trat­ed in the fol­low­ing scheme. Let A stand for a pure al­bi­no and (A)N for a nor­mal per­son, who nev­er­the­less car­ries the char­ac­ter al­binism (A) re­ces­sive. Then, in the scheme be­low, if Ab and (A)Nb are two broth­ers who both mar­ry nor­mal wives N, their chil­dren N(A) in the first case will be all nor­mal in ap­pear­ance but will be car­ry­ing al­binism re­ces­sive; and in the sec­ond case some will be pure nor­mal in­di­vid­uals N, and some will be like the chil­dren of the first broth­er, i.e. N(A). Now, if one of these lat­ter chil­dren of the sec­ond broth­er mar­ries a cousin—a child of the first broth­er,—their off­spring, if large enough, will con­sist of some pure nor­mals N, im­pure nor­mals N(A), and of al­bi­noes A.

Ab X N (A)Nb X N

| | N(A) N(A)+N | N+2N(A)+A No oth­er ra­tio­nal ex­pla­na­tion of the close re­la­tion­ship be­tween al­binism and cousin mar­riages is at present forth­com­ing. And, when the whole facts are borne in mind, there can be no rea­son­able doubt that the Mendelian prin­ci­ples of­fer an in­tel­li­gi­ble so­lu­tion of the prob­lem.

A pop­ular con­cep­tion ex­ists that al­bi­noes are less con­sti­tu­tion­al­ly strong than the pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­uals of the same species. In sup­port of this be­lief there is more or less sci­en­tif­ical­ly as­cer­tained ev­idence. Con­verse­ly, there is, how­ev­er, con­clu­sive ev­idence that in some in­stances and in re­spect of cer­tain qeial­ities the op­po­site be­lief is true.

To deal with the for­mer be­lief first, we have the re­mark­able case cit­ed by Charles Dar­win on the au­thor­ity of Pro­fes­sor I. J. Wyman. In Vir­ginia the paint-​root plant (Lach­nan­thes tinc­to­ria) oc­curs abun­dant­ly, and Pro­fes­sor Wyman no­ticed that all the pigs in this dis­trict were black. Up­on in­quiry of the farm­ers he found that all the white pigs born in a lit­ter were de­stroyed, be­cause they could not be reared to ma­tu­ri­ty. The root of this plant, when eat­en by white pigs, caused their bones to turn to a pink colour and their hoofs to fall off, but the black pigs could eat the same plant with im­puni­ty. Par­tial al­binism in this case was un­doubt­ed­ly cor­re­lat­ed with some in­her­ent con­sti­tu­tion­al de­fect, in virtue of which the in­di­vid­uals char­ac­ter­ized by it were in­ju­ri­ous­ly af­fect­ed by the juices of a plant quite in­nocu­ous to their pig­ment­ed brethren. Heusinger has shown that white sheep and pigs are in­jured by the in­ges­tion of cer­tain plants, while the pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­uals may eat them with­out harm. In De­von­shire and in parts of Kent the farm­ers en­ter­tain a marked prej­udice against white pigs, be­cause “the sun blis­ters their skin.” More re­mark­able is the case of cer­tain cat­tle, whose skin is piebald, marked by a gen­er­al ground colour over which are scat­tered patch­es of un­pig­ment­ed coat. In these an­imals, in cer­tain in­flam­ma­to­ry skin erup­tions, caused by the in­ges­tion of harm­ful plants, the al­binot­ic ar­eas are alone af­fect­ed. And with cer­tain cu­ta­neous dis­eases ac­com­pa­nied by con­sti­tu­tion­al dis­tur­bances which af­flict cat­tle, the af­fec­tion in the skin ap­pears on the patch­es bear­ing white hairs, the oth­er parts re­main­ing ap­par­ent­ly healthy. Such cas­es sug­gest that we should be more cor­rect in re­gard­ing, not al­binism as cor­re­lat­ed with con­sti­tu­tion­al de­fects, but rather pig­men­ta­tion as cor­re­lat­ed with pow­ers of im­mu­ni­ty or in­creased re­sis­tance against cer­tain in­ju­ri­ous pro­cess­es. In the West In­dies “the on­ly horned cat­tle fit for work are those which have a good deal of black in them; the white are ter­ri­bly tor­ment­ed by the in­sects and they are weak and slug­gish in pro­por­tion to the black.”

Com­ing to man, it is known that some al­bi­no ne­groes are pe­cu­liar­ly sen­si­tive to the bites of in­sects; and with Eu­ro­peans it is a gen­er­al­ly ob­served fact that the fair­er in­di­vid­uals are more se­ri­ous­ly af­fect­ed by the bites of fleas and bugs than are dark­er ones. Dr Twin­ing, in the British As­so­ci­ation Re­ports for 1845, p. 79, cites some in­stances de­scribed by Hum­boldt, who says that the cop­per-​coloured na­tives of the high plain of Bo­go­to, and at a low­er lev­el on the Mag­dale­na riv­er, were gen­er­al­ly free from goitre. Pro­fes­sor Pof­fig, al­so cit­ed by Dr Twin­ing, states that on the east side of the An­des in Chile, in some of the races which live there, he did not see a sin­gle case of goitre, and yet in the white in­hab­itants, who live ex­act­ly as the na­tives, it pre­vails in a great de­gree:

Turn­ing now to in­stances of the op­po­site kind, it is known that silk­worms which spin colour­less co­coons are more re­sis­tant to the at­tacks of a cer­tain dead­ly fun­gus than are those which spin the yel­low ones. In some parts of North Amer­ica it is found that the white peach­es are much less li­able to the at­tack of a dis­ease known as the “yel­lows” than are the yel­low-​fleshed ones. In the re­gion of the Mis­sis­sip­pi, Farabee has ob­served that the al­bi­no ne­groes are taller and broad­er than the black-​skinned in­di­vid­uals. We may as­sume that in­creased stature and breadth im­ply some sort of in­her­ent phys­ical su­pe­ri­or­ity, and if such an as­sump­tion is valid we have in man ev­idence that al­binism is cor­re­lat­ed not with con­sti­tu­tion­al de­fec­tive­ness but with greater per­fect­ness.

But the ques­tion as to whether al­bi­noes are more or less con­sti­tu­tion­al­ly vig­or­ous than pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­uals of the same species may be test­ed by ex­act mea­sure­ment. In 1893 W. D. Hal­libur­ton and T. G. Brodie, in as­cer­tain­ing the phys­io­log­ical pi­jop­er­ties of nu­cleo-​pro­tei­ds, found that when they were in­travas­cu­lar­ly in­ject­ed in­to pig­ment­ed rab­bits, co­ag­ula­tion of the blood re­sult­ed, but of the eight al­bi­noes which they used, none clot­ted. At a sub­se­quent pe­ri­od (1897) Hal­libur­ton and J. W. Pick­er­ing showed that the three syn­the­sized col­loids of Gri­maux in the same way pro­duced co­ag­ula­tion in pig­ment­ed an­imals, but failed to do so in al­bi­noes. Pick­er­ing, still lat­er, showed, in the case of four Nor­way hares, two of which were in­ject­ed while in their pig­ment­ed or sum­mer coat, and two while in their al­bi­no or win­ter coat, that co­ag­ula­tion oc­curred in the for­mer cas­es but not in the lat­ter.

Quite re­cent­ly, how­ev­er, the au­thor of this ar­ti­cle has made a more de­tailed ex­am­ina­tion of the ques­tion, op­er­at­ing up­on sev­er­al hun­dreds of rab­bits. And he found that all al­bi­noes do not fail to clot when in­travas­cu­lar­ly in­ject­ed with nu­cle­opro­tei­ds. On­ly about 9% of them thus failed ab­so­lute­ly to man­ifest any trace of co­ag­ula­tion. But about 7% showed an ex­ceed­ing­ly lim­it­ed co­ag­ula­tion, in which the clot was colour­less and floc­cu­lent, and con­fined to the heart. The rest gave a typ­ical and more or less wide-​spread co­ag­ula­tion. More­over, it was found that all the fail­ures of co­ag­ula­tion oc­curred when the nu­cleo-​pro­teid used was ob­tained from pig­ment­ed an­imals. When it was de­rived from al­bi­noes no fail­ures oc­curred. All pig­ment­ed an­imals clot­ted when the nu­cleo-​pro­teid was de­rived from ei­ther source. The Hi­malayan rab­bits re­act­ed like com­plete al­bi­noes, and 12% of them failed to clot when in­ject­ed with nu­cleo-​pro­teid ex­tract­ed from pig­ment­ed an­imals.

The in­ter­est­ing fact was thus as­cer­tained that all al­bi­noes are not alike. To stu­dents of hered­ity this is pre­cise­ly what would have been ex­pect­ed. For, as the facts above de­scribed show, al­bi­noes, though ap­par­ent­ly iden­ti­cal ex­ter­nal­ly, are yet the car­ri­ers of dif­fer­ent hered­itary char­ac­ters. Among al­bi­no rats, for in­stance, the au­thor of this ar­ti­cle has rea­son to be­lieve, up­on the­oret­ical grounds rest­ing on an ex­per­imen­tal ba­sis, that prob­ably no less than thir­teen types ex­ist. With rab­bits and mice there must be a still larg­er num­ber.

In the in­travas­cu­lar co­ag­ula­tion ex­per­iments above de­scribed, all the rab­bits were care­ful­ly weighed, and the amount of nu­cle­opro­teid in­ject­ed un­til co­ag­ula­tion oc­curred was mea­sured. This would give for al­bi­noes and pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­uals the amount per kilo­gramme of body-​weight re­quired to kill in each case, and would af­ford a mea­sure­ment of the rel­ative re­sis­tance of the two races. It was found that the re­sis­tance of al­bi­noes to­wards the co­ag­ula­tive ef­fects of in­ject­ed nu­cleo-​pro­tei­ds was to that of pig­ment­ed in­di­vid­uals as 1.5 to 1.0. In this case, the greater con­sti­tu­tion­al vigour of the al­bi­no is thus ac­cu­rate­ly demon­strat­ed. But it does not nec­es­sar­ily fol­low that with oth­er ma­te­ri­als and with oth­er con­sti­tu­tion­al qual­ities the state of things would not be re­versed.

One oth­er fea­ture re­mains to be men­tioned. Al­binism ap­pears, in the pro­cess­es of hered­ity, to be some­times in­dis­sol­ubly cor­re­lat­ed with cer­tain pe­cu­liar traits. It is well known that the long-​haired al­bi­no rab­bit, called An­go­ra, when at rest, has the habit of sway­ing its head side­ways in a pe­cu­liar fash­ion. C. C. Hurst has shown that the long-​haired and al­bi­no char­ac­ters are al­ways ac­com­pa­nied in hered­ity with the sway­ing habit. The An­go­ra char­ac­ter nev­er oc­curs with­out it.

BIB­LI­OG­RA­PHY.—G. M. Allen, “Hered­ity of Coat Colour in Mice,” Proc. Amer. Acad. Arts and Sci. vol. xl. No. 2; W. Bate­son, Mendel’s Prin­ci­ples of Hered­ity, a De­fence (Cam­bridge, 1902); W. Bate­son and E. R. Saun­ders, “Ex­per­imen­tal Stud­ies in the Phys­iol­ogy of Hered­ity,” Re­ports to the Evo­lu­tion Com­mit­tee of the Roy­al So­ci­ety, Re­port I. (Lon­don, 1901); W. Bate­son, E. R. Saun­ders, R. C. Pun­nett and C. C. Hurst, Re­ports to the Evo­lu­tion Com­mit­tee of the Roy­al So­ci­ety, Re­port II. (Lon­don, 1905); W. Bate­son, E. R. Saun­ders and R. C. Pun­nett, “Fur­ther Ex­per­iments on In­her­itance in Sweet-​Peas and Stocks,” Proc. Roy. Soc. B. vol. lxxvii.; W. E. Cas­tle, “Note on Mr Farabee’s Ob­ser­va­tions,” Sci­ence, N.S. vol. xvii. (New York); “Mendel’s Law of Hered­ity”, Sci­ence, N.S. vol. xvi­ii. (New York); W. E. Cas­tle and G. M. Allen, “Mendel’s Law and the Hered­ity of Al­binism,” Proc. Amer. Acad. Arts and Sci. vol. xxxvi­ii.; L. Cuenot, “L’hered­ite de la pig­men­ta­tion chez les souris,” Arch. d. Zo­ol. Ex­per. et Gen. Notes et Re­vue, ser. 3, tom. 10, and ser. 4, tom. 1 and 2; Charles Dar­win, Vari­ation of An­imals and Plants un­der Do­mes­ti­ca­tion, vols. i. and ii., 2nd ed. (Lon­don, 1899); L. Don­cast­er, “In­her­itance of Coat Colour in Rats,” Proc. Camb. Phil. Soc. vol. xi­ii. (Camb., 1906); V. von Duc­ceschi, Ren­di­con­ti del­la R. Ac­cad. dei Lin­cei, vol. ii.; Archiv­io di Fi­si­olo­gia, vol. i.; Flo­rence M. Durham, “Ty­rosi­nas­es in the Skins of Pig­ment­ed Ver­te­brates,” Proc. Roy. Soc. vol. lxxiv.; W. C. Farabee, “Notes on Ne­gro Al­binism,” Sci­ence, N.S. vol. xvii. (New York); Furth v. Schnei­der, Beitr. z. Chem. Phys. u. Path. Bd. 1; W. Haacke, “Ue­ber We­sen, Ur­sachen und Vererbung von Al­binis­mus und Scheck­ung, &c.,’, Bi­ol. Cen­tral­bl. Bd. 15; Hal­libur­ton and Brodie, Journ. Phys. Camb. and Lond. vols. xiv., xvi., xvii., xvi­ii.; Hal­libur­ton and Pick­er­ing, Journ. Phys. vol. xvi­ii.; C. C. Hurst, “Ex­per­imen­tal Stud­ies on Hered­ity in Rab­bits,” Journ. Lin. Soc. Sool. vol. xxix.; Geo. P. Mudge, “In­travas­cu­lar Co­ag­ula­tion and Al­binism, Pre­lim­inary Note,” Proc. Phys. Soc., 1905; Packard, Mem­oirs of Na­tion­al Acade­my of Sci­ences (1888); Pick­er­ing, Journ. Phys. vols. xvi­ii. and xx.; E. B. Poul­ton, Colour of An­imals (Lond., 1890); Twin­ing, Brit. As­soc. Re­ports, 1845; H. M. Ver­non, Vari­ation in An­imals and Plants (Lon­don, 1903) F. H. Welch, “Win­ter Coat in Le­pus amer­icanus,” Proc. Zo­ol. Soc., 1869. (G. P. M.)

AL­BI­NONI, TOMAS­SO (c. 1674–c. 1745), Ital­ian mu­si­cian, was born at Venice. He was a pro­lif­ic com­pos­er of op­eras at­tract­ing con­tem­po­rary at­ten­tion for their orig­inal­ity, but is more re­mark­able as a com­pos­er of in­stru­men­tal mu­sic, which great­ly at­tract­ed the at­ten­tion of Bach, who wrote at least two fugues on Al­bi­noni’s themes and con­stant­ly used his bass­es for har­mo­ny ex­er­cis­es for his pupils. AL­BI­NO­VANUS PE­DO, Ro­man po­et, flour­ished dur­ing the Au­gus­tan age. He wrote a The­seis, re­ferred to in a let­ter from his in­ti­mate friend Ovid (Ex Pon­to, iv. 10), epi­grams which are com­mend­ed by Mar­tial (ii. 77, v. 5) and an epic po­em on the ex­ploits of Ger­man­icus. He had the rep­uta­tion of be­ing an ex­cel­lent racon­teur, and Quin­til­ian (x. i. 90) awards him qual­ified praise as a writ­er of epics. All that re­mains of his works is a beau­ti­ful frag­ment, pre­served in the Sua­so­ri­ae (i. 15) of the rhetori­cian Seneca, from a de­scrip­tion of the Voy­age of Ger­man­icus (A.D. 16) through the riv­er Ems to the North­ern Ocean, when he was over­tak­en by the storm de­scribed by Tac­itus (Ann. ii. 23). The cav­al­ry com­man­der spo­ken of by the his­to­ri­an is prob­ably iden­ti­cal with the po­et. Three ele­gies were for­mer­ly at­tribut­ed to Pe­do by Scaliger; two on the death of Mae­ce­nas (In Obi­tum Mae­ce­natis and De Ver­bis Mae­ce­natis mori­bun­di), and one ad­dressed to Livia to con­sole her for the death of her son Drusus (Con­so­la­tio ad Livi­am de Morte Drusi or Epice­dion Drusi, usu­al­ly print­ed with Ovid’s works); but it is now gen­er­al­ly agreed that they are not by Pe­do. The Con­so­la­tio has been put down as late as the 15th cen­tu­ry as the work of an Ital­ian im­ita­tor, there be­ing no MSS. and no trace of the po­em be­fore the pub­li­ca­tion of the edi­tio prin­ceps of Ovid in 1471. There is an En­glish verse trans­la­tion of the ele­gies by Plumptre (1907).

See Bahrens, Po­et­ae La­ti­ni Mi­nores (1879) and Frag­men­ta Po­et­arum Lati­no­rum (1886); Haupt, Opus­cu­la, i. (1875); Haube, Beitrag zur Ken­nt­nis des Al­bi­no­vanus Pe­do (1880).

AL­BI­NUS (orig­inal­ly WEISS), RERN­HARD SIEGFRIED (1697-1770), Ger­man anatomist, was born on the 24th of Febru­ary 1697, at Frank­fort-​on-​Oder, where his fa­ther, Bern­hard Al­bi­nus (1653-1721), was pro­fes­sor of the prac­tice of medicine. In 1702 the lat­ter was trans­ferred to the chair of medicine at Lei­den, and it was there that Bern­hard Siegfried be­gan his stud­ies, hav­ing for his teach­ers such men as H. Boer­haave and Niko­laus Bid­loo. Hav­ing fin­ished his stud­ies at Lei­den, he went to Paris, where, un­der the in­struc­tion of Se­bastien Vail­lant (1669-1722), J. B. Winslow (1669-1760) and oth­ers, he de­vot­ed him­self es­pe­cial­ly to anato­my and botany. Af­ter a year’s ab­sence he was, on the rec­om­men­da­tion of Boer­haave, re­called in 1719 to Lei­den to be a lec­tur­er on anato­my and surgery. Two years lat­er he suc­ceed­ed his fa­ther in the pro­fes­sor­ship of these sub­jects, and speed­ily be­came one of the most fa­mous teach­ers of anato­my in Eu­rope, his class-​room be­ing re­sort­ed to not on­ly by stu­dents but by many prac­tis­ing physi­cians. In 1745 Al­bi­nus was ap­point­ed pro­fes­sor of the prac­tice of medicine, be­ing suc­ceed­ed in the anatom­ical chair by his broth­er Fred­er­ick Bern­hard (1715-1778), who, as well as an­oth­er broth­er, Chris­tian Bern­hard (1700-1752), at­tained con­sid­er­able dis­tinc­tion. Bern­hard Siegfried, who was twice rec­tor of his uni­ver­si­ty, died on the 9th of Septem­ber 1770 at Lei­den.

AL­BION (in Ptole­my ‘Alouion; Lat. Al­bion, Pliny 4.16[30],102), the most an­cient name of the British Is­lands, though gen­er­al­ly re­strict­ed to Eng­land. The name is per­haps of Celtic ori­gin, but the Ro­mans took it as con­nect­ed with al­bus, white, in ref­er­ence to the chalk-​cliffs of Dover, and A. Hold­er (Alt-​Keltisch­er Sprach­schatz, 1896) un­hesi­tat­ing­ly trans­lates it Weiss­land, “white­land.” The ear­ly writ­er (6th cent. B.C.) whose periplus is trans­lat­ed by Avienus (end of 4th cent. A.D.) does not use the name Bri­tan­nia; he speaks of ne­sos ‘Ier­non kai ‘Al­bionon (“is­land of the Ierni and the Al­biones”). So Pyth­eas of Mas­sil­ia (4th cent. B.C.) speaks of ”Al­bion and ‘Ierne. From the fact that there was a tribe called the Al­biones on the north coast ot Spain in As­turia, some schol­ars have placed Al­bion in that neigh­bour­hood (see G. F. Unger, Rhein. Mus. xxxvi­ii., 1883, pp. 156-196). The name Al­bion was tak­en by me­dieval writ­ers from Pliny and Ptole­my.

AL­BION, a city of Cal­houn coun­ty, Michi­gan, U.S.A., on the Kala­ma­zoo riv­er, 21 m. W. of Jack­son. Pop. (1890) 3763; (1900) 4519, of whom 622 were for­eign-​born; (1904) 4943; (1910) 5833. Al­bion is served by the Michi­gan Cen­tral and the Jack­son di­vi­sion of the Lake Shore and Michi­gan South­ern rail­ways, and by an in­ter-​ur­ban elec­tric line. The city has a pub­lic park and a pub­lic li­brary. The W. part of the city has most of the fac­to­ries; the prin­ci­pal man­ufac­tures are flour, agri­cul­tur­al im­ple­ments, wind­mills, gaso­lene en­gines, har­ness and pro­pri­etary medicines. On a com­mand­ing site in the E. part of the city is Al­bion Col­lege (Methodist Epis­co­pal; co-​ed­uca­tion­al), em­brac­ing a Col­lege of Lib­er­al Arts, a prepara­to­ry de­part­ment, a con­ser­va­to­ry of mu­sic, a school of art, a school of or­ato­ry, a nor­mal course, and a com­mer­cial de­part­ment. The col­lege was in­cor­po­rat­ed in 1835 as Spring Ar­bor Sem­inary, and in 1839 by an amend­ed char­ter was lo­cat­ed at Al­bion, where it was first opened in 1843 un­der the name of the Wes­leyan Sem­inary of Al­bion; in 1849 it be­came the Wes­leyan Sem­inary and Fe­male Col­le­giate In­sti­tute, with pow­er to grant de­grees to wom­en on­ly; but in 1861 the present name was adopt­ed and the col­lege was per­mit­ted to grant de­grees to men and wom­en. In 1906 it had a li­brary of 16,500 vol­umes, a fac­ul­ty of 19, and an en­rol­ment of 483 (211 be­ing wom­en). The mu­nic­ipal­ity owns and op­er­ates the wa­ter-​works, the wa­ter-​sup­ply be­ing ob­tained from arte­sian wells. Al­bion was set­tled in 1831, was in­cor­po­rat­ed as a vil­lage in 1866 and was char­tered as a city in 1885.

AL­BION, a vil­lage and the coun­ty-​seat of Or­leans coun­ty, New York, U.S.A., about 30 m. W.N.W. of Rochester. Pop. (1890) 4586; (1900) 4477, (984 be­ing for­eign-​born and 43 ne­groes); (1905, state cen­sus) 5174; (1910) 5016. The vil­lage is served by the New York Cen­tral & Hud­son Riv­er rail­way, by the Buf­fa­lo, Lock­port & Rochester elec­tric rail­way, and by the Erie Canal. In Al­bion are the West­ern House of Refuge for Wom­en (a state in­sti­tu­tion es­tab­lished in 1890), a pub­lic park, the Swan Li­brary, and the coun­ty build­ings, in­clud­ing the court house, the jail and the sur­ro­gate’s of­fice; and about 2 m. to the S.E. is the beau­ti­ful Mount Al­bion Ceme­tery. Al­bion is the cen­tre of the Med­ina sand­stone in­dus­try, and lies in the midst of a good farm­ing re­gion, of which it is the prin­ci­pal ship­ping point, es­pe­cial­ly for ap­ples, cab­bages and beans. The vil­lage man­ufac­tures agri­cul­tur­al im­ple­ments, vine­gar, evap­orat­ed fruit, and canned fruit and veg­eta­bles, and has two large cold-​stor­age hous­es. Al­bion was set­tled in 1812, was in­cor­po­rat­ed in 1823 and be­came the coun­ty-​seat in 1825.

AL­BITE, a min­er­al of the felspar group, be­long­ing to the di­vi­sion of the pla­gio­clases (q.v..) It is a sodi­um and alu­mini­um sil­icate, NaAl­Si3O8, and crys­tal­lizes in the anor­th­ic sys­tem. Like all the felspars it pos­sess­es two cleav­ages, one per­fect and the oth­er less so, which are here in­clined at an an­gle of 86 deg. 24′. On the more per­fect cleav­age, which is par­al­lel to the basal plane (P), is a sys­tem of fine stri­ations, par­al­lel to the sec­ond cleav­age (M), due to twin­ning ac­cord­ing to the,“al­bite law” (figs. 1 and 2). The hard­ness is 6, and the spe­cif­ic grav­ity 2.63. The colour is usu­al­ly pure white, hence the name (from the Lat. al­bus) for the species.

Al­bite forms an es­sen­tial con­stituent of many acidic ig­neous and FIG. 1. FIG. 2. crys­talline rocks; Twinned crys­tals of Al­bite. in gran­ites, dior­ites, an­desites, &c., it oc­curs as a pri­ma­ry min­er­al, whilst in crys­talline schists, phyl­lites and crys­talline lime­stones it is of sec­ondary (meta­mor­phic) ori­gin. The beau­ti­ful­ly de­vel­oped crys­tals so abun­dant in crys­tal-​lined crevices of Alpine gran­ites and gneiss­es have been de­posit­ed, with oth­er min­er­als, from so­lu­tion; the crys­tals lin­ing veins in the slates of Tin­tagel in Corn­wall have the same ori­gin.

Sev­er­al va­ri­eties of al­bite are dis­tin­guished, of which the fol­low­ing may be here spe­cial­ly men­tioned. Per­icline (from the Gr. perik­lines, “slop­ing”) is the name giv­en to large opaque white crys­tals from the chlo­rite-​schists of the Alps; they are tab­ular par­al­lel to the di­rec­tion of per­fect cleav­age and are twinned ac­cord­ing to the “per­icline law.” Peri­sterite (from the Gr. peri­stera, a dove) is char­ac­ter­ized by a beau­ti­ful bluish sheen, some­what re­sem­bling that seen on the neck of a pi­geon; it is found main­ly in On­tario. Aven­turine and moon­stone va­ri­eties oc­cur, though these spe­cial ap­pear­ances are more usu­al­ly dis­played by the oligo­clase and or­tho­clase felspars re­spec­tive­ly. (L. J. S.)

‘AL­BO, JOSEPH, a Span­ish Jew­ish the­olo­gian of the 15th cen­tu­ry. He was au­thor of a very pop­ular book on the phi­los­ophy of Ju­daism, en­ti­tled `Iqqarim or Fun­da­men­tals. Mai­monides in the 12th cen­tu­ry had for­mu­lat­ed the prin­ci­ples of Ju­daism in thir­teen ar­ti­cles; Al­bo re­duced them to three: (i) The Ex­is­tence of God, (ii) Rev­ela­tion and (iii) Di­vine Ret­ri­bu­tion. Al­bo set the ex­am­ple of min­imiz­ing Mes­sian­ism in the for­mu­la­tion of Jew­ish be­liefs. Though he ful­ly main­tained the Mo­sa­ic au­thor­ship of the Law and the bind­ing force of tra­di­tion, he dis­crim­inat­ed be­tween the es­sen­tial and the non-​es­sen­tial in the prac­tices and be­liefs of Ju­daism. An En­glish trans­la­tion of the `Iqqarim ap­peared in the He­brew Re­view, vols. i.-iii.

AL­BOIN (d. 572 or 573), king of the Lom­bards, and con­queror of Italy, suc­ceed­ed his fa­ther Au­doin about 565. The Lom­bards were at that time dwelling in Noricum and Pan­non­ia (arch­duchy of Aus­tria, Styr­ia and Hun­gary, west of the Danube). In al­liance with the Avars, and Asi­at­ic peo­ple who had in­vad­ed cen­tral Eu­rope, Al­boin de­feat­ed the Gep­idae, a pow­er­ful na­tion on his east­ern fron­tier, slew their king Cu­nimund, whose skull he fash­ioned in­to a drink­ing-​cup, and whose daugh­ter Rosamund he car­ried off and made his wife. Three years lat­er (in 568), on the al­leged in­vi­ta­tion of Nars­es (q.v.), who was ir­ri­tat­ed by the treat­ment he had re­ceived from the em­per­or Justin II., Al­boin in­vad­ed Italy, prob­ably march­ing over the pass of the Predil. He over­ran Vene­tia and the wide dis­trict which we now call Lom­bardy, meet­ing with but fee­ble re­sis­tance till he came to the city of Ticinum (Pavia), which for three years (569-572) kept the Lom­bards at bay. While this siege was in progress Al­boin was al­so en­gaged in oth­er parts of Italy, and at its close he was prob­ably mas­ter of Lom­bardy, Pied­mont and Tus­cany, as well as of the re­gions which af­ter­wards went by the name of the duchies of Spo­le­to and Ben­even­to. In 572 or 573, how­ev­er, he was as­sas­si­nat­ed by his cham­ber­lain Pere­deo at the in­sti­ga­tion of Queen Rosamund, whom Al­boin had grievous­ly in­sult­ed by forc­ing her to drink wine out of her fa­ther’s skull. Af­ter his death and the short reign of his suc­ces­sor Cleph the Lom­bards re­mained for more than ten years in a state of an­ar­chy.

The au­thor­ities for the his­to­ry of Al­boin are Pro­copius, Paulus Di­aconus and Ag­nel­lus (in his his­to­ry of the church of Raven­na).

AL­BONI, MA­RI­ET­TA (1823-1894), Ital­ian opera-​singer, was born at Ce­se­na, Ro­magna, and was trained in mu­sic at Bologna, where she be­came a pupil of Rossi­ni. She had a mag­nif­icent con­tral­to voice, and in 1843 made her first ap­pear­ance at La Scala, Mi­lan, be­ing rec­og­nized at once as a pub­lic favourite. In Eng­land her rep­uta­tion was es­tab­lished by her ap­pear­ance at Covent Gar­den in 1847, and she had bril­liant suc­cess all over Eu­rope in the lead­ing op­er­at­ic roles; in 1853 she re­peat­ed these tri­umphs in the Unit­ed States. In­deed, with the ex­cep­tion of Mal­ibran, she had no com­peer among the con­tral­tos of the cen­tu­ry, the old Ital­ian school of singing find­ing in her a re­al­ly great rep­re­sen­ta­tive. She mar­ried first Count A. Pe­poh, who died in 1866, and sec­ond­ly (1877) a French of­fi­cer, M. Zieger; she lived in Paris af­ter her first mar­riage, and died at Ville d’Avray in 1894.

AL­BORNOZ, GIL AL­VAREZ DE, Span­ish car­di­nal, was born at Cuen­ca ear­ly in the 14th Cen­tu­ry. He was the son of Gil Al­varez de Al­bornoz and of Dona Tere­sa de Lu­na, sis­ter of Ki­meno de Lu­na, arch­bish­op of Tole­do. He was ed­ucat­ed at Saragosa, while his un­cle was bish­op of that see, and stud­ied law at Toulouse. The pow­er­ful in­flu­ence of his fam­ily opened him a pub­lic ca­reer ear­ly in life. He was made archdea­con of Ca­la­tra­va, and be­came a mem­ber of the king’s coun­cil while young. In 1337 he was cho­sen arch­bish­op of Tole­do in suc­ces­sion to his un­cle by the favour of the king, Alphon­so XI. At the bat­tle of Tar­ifa he fought against a great in­va­sion from Africa in 1340, and at the tak­ing of Al­ge­ci­ras in 1344 he led the armed levy of his arch­bish­opric. In 1343 he had been sent to Pope Clement VI. at Avi­gnon to ne­go­ti­ate a grant of a tax on the rev­enues of the Church for the Cru­sade. His mil­itary and diplo­mat­ic abil­ity be­came known to the pope, who made him a car­di­nal in 1350. Al­bornoz left Spain on the death of the king Alphon­so XI. in that year, and nev­er re­turned. It has been said, but not on con­tem­po­rary ev­idence, that he fled from fear of Pe­ter the Cru­el. In 1353 In­no­cent VI. sent him as a legate in­to Italy, with a view to the restora­tion of the pa­pal au­thor­ity in the states of the Church. He was re­called in 1357, but was sent again to Italy af­ter a brief in­ter­val, and in 1362 had paved the way for the re­turn of Ur­ban V. to Rome. As legate, Al­bornoz showed him­self to be an as­tute man­ag­er of men and ef­fec­tive fight­er. He be­gan by mak­ing use of Rien­zi, whose re­lease from prison at Avi­gnon he se­cured. Af­ter the mur­der of the tri­bune in 1354 Al­bornoz pur­sued his task of restor­ing the pope’s au­thor­ity by in­trigue and force with re­mark­able suc­cess. As a mark of grat­itude the pope ap­point­ed him legate at Bologna in 1367, but he died at Viter­bo the same year. Ac­cord­ing to his own de­sire his re­mains were car­ried to Tole­do, where Hen­ry of Castile caused them to be en­tombed with al­most roy­al hon­ours. A work by Al­bornoz on the con­sti­tu­tion of the Church of Rome, first print­ed at Je­si in 1473, is now very rare. The col­lege of St Clement at Bologna was found­ed by Al­bornox for the ben­efit of Span­ish stu­dents.

See “De Vi­ta et Re­bus Gestis Aegidii Al­bornotii,” in Sepul­ve­da’s Opera Om­nia, vol. iv. (1780); Car­de­nal Al­bornoz der zweite Be­grun­der des Kirchen­staates, by Dr H. J. Wurm (1892).

AL­BRECHTS­BERG­ER, JO­HANN GEORG (1736-1809), Aus­tri­an mu­si­cian, was born at Kloster-​Neuburg, near Vi­en­na, on the 3rd of Febru­ary 1736. He stud­ied mu­si­cal com­po­si­tion un­der the court or­gan­ist, Mann, and be­came one of the most learned and skil­ful con­tra­pun­tists of his age. Af­ter be­ing em­ployed as or­gan­ist at Raab and Maria-​Taferl, he was ap­point­ed in 1772 or­gan­ist to the court of Vi­en­na, and in 1792 Kapellmeis­ter of St Stephen’s cathe­dral. His fame as a the­orist at­tract­ed to him in the Aus­tri­an cap­ital a large num­ber of pupils, some of whom af­ter­wards be­came em­inent mu­si­cians. Among these were Beethoven, Hum­mel, Moscheles and Josef Wei­gl (1766-1846). Al­brechts­berg­er died in Vi­en­na on the 7th of March 1809. His pub­lished com­po­si­tions con­sist of pre­ludes, fugues and sonatas for the pi­ano and or­gan, string quar­tets, &c.; but the greater pro­por­tion of his works, vo­cal and in­stru­men­tal, ex­ists on­ly in manuscript. They are in the li­brary of the Vi­en­na Gesellschaft der Musik­fre­unde. Prob­ably the most valu­able ser­vice he ren­dered to mu­sic was in his the­oret­ical Works. In 1790 he pub­lished at Leipzig a trea­tise on com­po­si­tion, of which a third edi­tion ap­peared in 1821. A col­lec­tion of his writ­ings on har­mo­ny, in three vol­umes, was pub­lished un­der the care of his pupil Ig­naz von Seyfried (1776-1841) in 1826. There is an En­glish ver­sion of this pub­lished by Nov­el­lo in 1855. Beethoven knew his own needs when he put him­self un­der Al­brechts­berg­er on find­ing that Haydn was not thor­ough­ly dis­posed for the trou­ble of train­ing him; and though Al­brechts­berg­er could see noth­ing in him, and warned his oth­er pupils against “that young man who would nev­er turn out any­thing in good style,” he jus­ti­fied Beethoven’s con­fi­dence.

AL­BRET. The lord­ship (seigneurie) of Al­bret (Labrit, Le­bret), sit­uat­ed in the Lan­des, gave its name to one of the most pow­er­ful feu­dal fam­ilies of France in the mid­dle ages. Its mem­bers dis­tin­guished them­selves in the lo­cal wars of that apoch; and dur­ing the 14th cen­tu­ry they es­poused the En­glish cause for some time, af­ter­wards trans­fer­ring their sup­port to the side of France. Ar­naud Amanieu, lord of Al­bret, helped to take Gui­enne from the En­glish. His son Charles be­came con­sta­ble of France, and was killed at the bat­tle of Ag­in­court in 1415. Alain the Great, lord of Al­bret (d. 1522), wished to mar­ry Anne of Brit­tany, and to that end fought against Charles VI­II.; but his hopes be­ing de­feat­ed by the be­trothal of Anne to Max­im­il­ian of Aus­tria, he sur­ren­dered Nantes to the French in 1486. At that time the house of Al­bret had at­tained con­sid­er­able ter­ri­to­ri­al im­por­tance, due in great part to the lib­er­al grants which it had ob­tained from suc­ces­sive kings of France. John of Al­bret, son of Alain, be­came king of Navarre by his mar­riage with Cather­ine of Foix. Their son Hen­ry, king of Navarre, was cre­at­ed duke of Al­bret and peer of France in 1550. By his wife Mar­garet, sis­ter of the French king, Fran­cis I., he had a daugh­ter, Jeanne d’Al­bret, queen of Navarre, who mar­ried An­tho­ny de Bour­bon, duke of Ven­dome, and be­came the moth­er of Hen­ry IV., king of France. The duke­dom of Al­bret, unit­ed to the crown of France by the ac­ces­sion of this prince, was grant­ed to the fam­ily of La Tour d’Au­vergne in 1651, in ex­change for Sedan and Rau­court.

To a younger branch of this house be­longed Jean d’Al­bret, seigneur of Or­val, count of Dreux and of Rethel, gov­er­nor of Cham­pagne (d. 1524), who was em­ployed by Fran­cis I. in many diplo­mat­ic ne­go­ti­ations, more par­tic­ular­ly in his in­trigues to get him­self elect­ed em­per­or in 1519. (M. P.*)

AL­BRIGHT, JA­COB (1759-1808), Amer­ican cler­gy­man, was born near Pottstown, Penn­syl­va­nia, on the 1st of May 1759. He was of “Penn­syl­va­nia-​Ger­man” parent­age, his name be­ing orig­inal­ly Al­brecht, and was ed­ucat­ed in the Luther­an faith. At an ear­ly age he be­came a tile-​burn­er. In 1790 he was con­vert­ed to Method­ism, and in 1796 de­ter­mined to de­vote him­self to preach­ing that faith among the Penn­syl­va­nia Ger­mans. His ef­forts met with great suc­cess, and in 1800 he found­ed what was vir­tu­al­ly a new and in­de­pen­dent church or­ga­ni­za­tion on the Methodist sys­tem, of which he be­came the pre­sid­ing el­der, and even­tu­al­ly (1807) bish­op. This church is of­fi­cial­ly the Evan­gel­ical As­so­ci­ation, but its ad­her­ents have been var­ious­ly known as “New Methodists.” “Al­brights,” and “Al­bright Brethren.” Al­bright died on the 18th of May 1808, at Muhlbach, Penn­syl­va­nia.

AL­BUERA, or AL­BUHERA, LA, a small vil­lage of Spain, in the province of Bada­joz, 13 m. S.E. of the town of that name. Pop. (1900) 820. Al­buera is cel­ebrat­ed on ac­count of the vic­to­ry gained there on the 16th of May 1811 by the British, Por­tuguese and Spaniards, un­der Mar­shal Beres­ford, over the French army com­mand­ed by Mar­shal Soult. (See PENIN­SU­LAR WAR.)

AL­BUFERA DE VA­LEN­CIA, a la­goon, 7 m. S. of Va­len­cia in Spain, about 12 m. in length and 4 in breadth, 12 ft. be­ing its great­est depth. It com­mu­ni­cates with the sea by a nar­row out­let, which can be opened or closed at plea­sure. The lake is crown prop­er­ty, and is of great val­ue from the fish and wild-​fowl with which it abounds. Rice is grown in large quan­ti­ties by the in­hab­itants of the ad­join­ing vil­lages. In 1812 Mar­shal Suchet was cre­at­ed duke of Al­bufera by Napoleon for his con­quest of Va­len­cia, and in­vest­ed with the do­main; but the bat­tle of Vit­to­ria in 1813 de­prived him of his pos­ses­sion, though he still re­tained the ti­tle. Sub­se­quent­ly the rev­enues of Al­bufera were con­ferred up­on the duke of Welling­ton in to­ken of the grat­itude of the Span­ish na­tion. (See PENIN­SU­LAR WAR.)

AL­BU­LAE AQUAE, a group of springs, 4 m. W. of Tibur, the wa­ter of which is bluish, strong­ly im­preg­nat­ed with sul­phur and car­bon­ate of lime, and ris­es at a tem­per­ature of about 75 deg. F. Re­mains of a Ro­man ther­mal es­tab­lish­ment ex­ist near the prin­ci­pal spring, the so-​called La­go del­la Regi­na (which is con­tin­ual­ly di­min­ish­ing in size ow­ing to the de­posit left by the wa­ter), and ded­ica­to­ry in­scrip­tions in hon­our of the wa­ters have been found. The baths are still fre­quent­ed by the Ro­mans, though the mod­ern es­tab­lish­ment is about 1 m. S. on the high road.

See T. Ash­by in Pa­pers of the British School at Rome, iii. 117.

AL­BU­LA PASS, now the prin­ci­pal route from the N. to the Up­per En­ga­dine in the Swiss Can­ton of the Grisons. It was al­ready fre­quent­ed in the 13th cen­tu­ry, while a car­riage road (high­est point, 7595 ft.) was con­struct­ed across it in 1865, but for a long time it was not as much used as the eas­ier and more di­rect Juli­er Pass (7504 ft.), un­til the open­ing of the rail­way in 1903, which has vast­ly in­creased its prac­ti­cal im­por­tance. Start­ing from Coire the Rhine val­ley is fol­lowed to Re­ichenau (6 1/4 m.), and then that of the Hin­ter Rhine to Thu­sis (10 1/2 m.). The line then runs through the grand Schyn gorge (cut by the Al­bu­la tor­rent) to Tiefenkastell (7 1/2 m.), where it leaves the Juli­er road on the right (S.) and con­tin­ues to fol­low the course of the Al­bu­la past Fil­isur and Bergun (12 1/2 m.) to the mouth (5879 ft.) of the great tun­nel (3 3/4 m. in length; high­est point, 5987 ft.) which has been pierced be­low the pass. The de­scent lies through the Bev­ers glen to Bev­ers (2 1/2 m.), where the Up­per En­ga­dine is reached, about 5 m. be­low St. Moritz, which is 56 m. from Coire by this route. (W. A. B. C.)

AL­BUM (Lat. al­bus, white), in an­cient Rome, a board chalked or paint­ed white, on which de­crees, edicts and oth­er pub­lic no­tices were in­scribed in black. The An­nales Max­imi of the Pon­tif­ex Max­imus, the an­nu­al edicts of the prae­tor, the lists of Ro­man and mu­nic­ipal sen­ators (de­cu­ri­ones) and ju­rors (al­bum in­dicum) were ex­hib­it­ed in this man­ner. In me­dieval and mod­ern times al­bum de­notes a book of blank pages in which vers­es, au­to­graphs, sketch­es, pho­tographs and the like are col­lect­ed. It is al­so ap­plied to the of­fi­cial list of ma­tric­ulat­ed stu­dents in a uni­ver­si­ty, and to the roll in which a bish­op in­scribes the names of his cler­gy. In law, the word is the equiv­alent of mailles blanch­es, for rent paid in sil­ver (“white”) mon­ey.

AL­BU­MAZAR, more prop­er­ly ABU-​MAASCHAR (805-885), Arab as­tronomer, was born at Balkh, flour­ished at Bag­dad, and died at Wasid in Cen­tral Asia. His prin­ci­pal works are: De Mag­nis Con­junc­tion­ibus (Augs­burg, 1489); In­tro­duc­to­ri­um in As­trono­mi­am (Venice, 1506); and Flo­res As­tro­logi­ci (Augs­burg, 1488). He main­tained in the first that the world, cre­at­ed when the sev­en plan­ets were in con­junc­tion in the first de­gree of Aries, will come to an end at a like con­junc­tion in the last de­gree of Pisces.

See Biog. Uni­verselle (Jour­dain); La­lande, Bib­li­ogra­phie As­tronomique; Poggen­dorff, Biog. lit­er­arisches Hand­worter­buch; Houzeau, Bibl. As­tronomique.

AL­BU­MIN, or AL­BU­MEN (Lat. al­bus, white), an or­gan­ic sub­stance typ­ical of a group of bod­ies (al­bu­mins or al­bu­minates) of very com­pli­cat­ed chem­ical com­po­si­tion. They are some­times called the his­to­ge­net­ic bod­ies or pro­tei­ds, be­cause they are es­sen­tial to the build­ing up of the an­imal or­gan­ism. The veg­etable king­dom is the orig­inal source of al­bu­minous sub­stances, the al­bu­mins be­ing found in great­est quan­ti­ty in the seed. They al­so oc­cur in the flu­ids of the liv­ing or­gan­ism. The chem­istry of the al­bu­mins is one of the most com­pli­cat­ed and dif­fi­cult in the whole do­main of or­gan­ic chem­istry. It has at­tract­ed the at­ten­tion of many work­ers, and has formed the sub­ject of a huge lit­er­ature. In this field Bechamp, Cohn­heim, Al­brecht Kos­sel, and, es­pe­cial­ly, Emil Fis­ch­er and his pupils have been ex­treme­ly ac­tive. The gen­er­al trend of these re­search­es lies in the study of the de­com­po­si­tion or “break­ing down” prod­ucts of the al­bu­min molecules; once these are ac­cu­rate­ly de­ter­mined, the syn­the­sis of an al­bu­min is but a mat­ter of time. Al­ready we have pro­ceed­ed far in our knowl­edge of the de­com­po­si­tion prod­ucts, and cer­tain sim­ple pro­tei­ds have been syn­the­sized.

Gen­er­al char­ac­ters.

The al­bu­mins con­tain in all cas­es the el­ements car­bon, hy­dro­gen, ni­tro­gen, sul­phur and oxy­gen; their com­po­si­tion, how­ev­er, varies with­in cer­tain lim­its: C = 50-55%, H = 6.9-7.3%, N. = 15-19%, S = 0.3-2.4%, O = 19-24%, crys­tal­lized al­bu­min is C = 51.48%, H = 6.76%, N = 8.14%, S = 0.96%, O = 22.66%, which points to the for­mu­la C720H1134N218S5O248, cor­re­spond­ing to the molec­ular weight 16,954. A high molec­ular weight char­ac­ter­izes these sub­stances, but so far no def­inite val­ue has been de­ter­mined by ei­ther phys­ical or chem­ical means; A. P. Sa­banezhev ob­tained the val­ue 15,000 by Raoult’s method for pu­ri­fied egg al­bu­min. All al­bu­mins are lae­vo-​ro­ta­to­ry; and on in­cin­er­ation a small amount of in­or­gan­ic ash is in­vari­ably left. They are usu­al­ly in­sol­uble in wa­ter, al­co­hol and ether; and their pres­ence as so­lutes in veg­etable and an­imal flu­ids is not yet per­fect­ly un­der­stood, but it is prob­ably to be con­nect­ed with the pres­ence of salts or oth­er sub­stances. A re­mark­able change oc­curs when many al­bu­mins are boiled with wa­ter, or treat­ed with cer­tain acids, their sol­ubil­ity and gen­er­al char­ac­ters be­ing en­tire­ly al­tered, and the flu­id be­com­ing co­ag­ulat­ed. This change is seen in the trans­for­ma­tion of the “white” of an egg on boil­ing. Al­bu­mins are gen­er­al­ly de­tect­ed by tak­ing ad­van­tage of this prop­er­ty, or of cer­tain colour changes. The reagents in com­mon use are: Mil­lon’s reagent, a so­lu­tion of mer­curic ni­trate con­tain­ing ni­trous acid, this gives a vi­olet-​red col­oration; ni­tric acid, which gives a yel­low colour, turn­ing to gold when treat­ed with am­mo­nia (xan­tho­pro­te­ic re­ac­tion); fum­ing sul­phuric acid, which gives vi­olet so­lu­tions; and caus­tic potash and cop­per sul­phate, which, on warm­ing, gives a red to vi­olet col­oration (bi­uret re­ac­tion).

De­com­po­si­tion prod­ucts.

Boil­ing with di­lute min­er­al acids, or bary­ta wa­ter, de­com­pos­es al­bu­mins in­to car­bon diox­ide, am­mo­nia and fat­ty amino- and oth­er acids. These de­com­po­si­tion prod­ucts in­clude: gly­co­coll or aminoacetic acid, NH2CH2COOH, ala­nine or amino­pro­pi­onic acid, CH3.CH(NH2).COOH, a-​aminobu­tyric acid, a-​amino­va­le­ri­an­ic acid, leucin or isobutyl-​a-​aminoacetic acid, (CH3)2CH.CH2.CH(NH2).COOH, isoleucin, prob­ably b-​aminocaproic acid, serin or a-​amino- b-​hy­drox­ypro­pi­onic acid, HO.CH2.CH(NH2).COOH, as­par­tic acid or aminosuc­cinic acid, HOOC.CH2.CH(NH2).COOH, glu­taminic acid or a-​amino- n-​glu­tar­ic acid, HOOC.(CH2)2.CH(NH2).COOH, di­aminoacetic acid, a-​b-​di­amino­pro­pi­onic acid, lysin. or a-​e-​di­amino-​n-​caproic acid, NH2(CH2)4.CH(NH2).COOH, arginin or guani­dine-​a-​amino- n-​va­le­ri­an­ic acid, (NH)(NH2)C.NH.(CH2)3.CH(NH2).COOH, or­nithin or ad-​di­amino va­le­ri­an­ic acid, NH2.(CH2)3.CH(NH2).COOH, his­tidin or a-​amino- b-​im­ida­zol- _________________ | | pro­pi­onic acid HOOC.CH(NH2).CH2.C:CH.N:CH.NH, pro­line _________________________________ | | or a-​pyrro­lidin car­boxylic acid, HOOC.CH.NH.CH2.CH2.CH2, hy­drox­ypro­line, phenyl ala­nine or phenyl-​a-​amino­pro­pi­onic acid, C6H5.CH2.CH(NH2).COOH, ty­ro­sine or p-​hy­drox­yphenyl- a- amino­pro­pi­onic acid, phenyl ethy­lamine, p-​hy­drox­yphenyl ethy­lamine, tryp­to­phane or in­dol amino­pro­pi­onic acid, A. cystin (pro­tein-​cystin) or a-​amino-​b-​thio­glyc­er­ic acid “disul­phide,” (S.CH2.CH(NH2).COOH)2, B. cystin (stone-​cystin), or a-​thio-​b-​amino­glyc­er­ic acid “disul­phide,” (NH2.CH2.CH:S.COOH)2. This list is not ex­haus­tive; oth­er prod­ucts are giv­en in Gus­tav Mann, Chem­istry of the Pro­tei­ds (1906), to which ref­er­ence should be made for a com­plete ac­count of this class of com­pounds.

Clas­si­fi­ca­tion of al­bu­mins.

The com­plex­ity of com­po­si­tion mil­itates in a great mea­sure against a ra­tio­nal clas­si­fi­ca­tion of al­bu­mins by pure­ly chem­ical con­sid­er­ations. Such clas­si­fi­ca­tions have been at­tempt­ed by A. Kos­sel and by W. Kuhne and E. P. Pick; but in the present state of our knowl­edge, how­ev­er, the old­er clas­si­fi­ca­tion of E. Dreschel and F. Hoppe- Seyler, based pri­mar­ily on sol­ubil­ities and dis­tri­bu­tion, may be con­ve­nient­ly re­tained. This clas­si­fi­ca­tion is with cer­tain mod­ifi­ca­tions as fol­lows:-

I. Al­bu­mins prop­er: char­ac­ter­ized by hav­ing col­loidal so­lu­tions. (1) Al­bu­mins: serum-​al­bu­min, egg-​al­bu­min, al­bu­min. (2) Glob­ulins: serum-​glob­ulin, egg-​glob­ulin, lac­to- glob­ulin, cell-​glob­ulins. (3) Plant-​glob­ulins and plant-​vitellines. (4) Fib­rino­gen. (5) Myosin. (6) Phos­pho­rus con­tain­ing al­bu­mins (nu­cleo-​al­bu­mins), ca­seins, vitellines, nu­cleo-​al­bu­mins of the cell- pro­to­plasm, mu­coid nu­cleo-​al­bu­mins. (7) Hi­stones. (8) Pro­tamines. II. Trans­for­ma­tion prod­ucts of the al­bu­mins prop­er. (1) Acid-​al­bu­mins, al­ka­li al­bu­minates. (2) Al­bu­moses, pep­tones and pep­tides. (3) Halo­gen-​al­bu­mins, oxypro­tein, oxyprot­sul­phon­ic acid, &c. III. Pro­tei­ds. (1) Nu­cleo-​pro­tei­ds. (2) Haemoglobin and al­lied sub­stances. (3) Gly­co-​pro­tei­ds, mucins, mu­coids, he­li­co-​pro­teid. IV. Al­bu­minoids. (1) Col­la­gen. (2) Ker­atin. (3) Elastin. (4) Fi­broin. (5) Spon­gin, &c. (6) Amy­loid. (7) Al­bu­moid. (8) Colour­ing mat­ters de­rived from al­bu­min.

Al­bu­mins prop­er.–Al­bu­mins (as clas­si­fied above) are sol­uble in wa­ter, di­lute acids and al­ka­lies, and in sat­urat­ed neu­tral salt so­lu­tions; they are co­ag­ulat­ed by heat. “Serum- al­bu­min,” or “blood-​al­bu­min,” pos­si­bly C450H720N116S6O140, oc­curs in blood-​serum, lymph, chyle, milk, &c.; its co­ag­ula­tion tem­per­ature is about 67 deg. . It dif­fers from egg-​al­bu­min in its spe­cif­ic ro­ta­tion (-57 deg. to -64 deg. ), and in be­ing slow­ly co­ag­ulat­ed by al­co­hol and ether. Egg-​al­bu­min is the chief con­stituent of the white of egg; this flu­id al­so con­tains a glob­ulin and a mu­coid. It co­ag­ulates at about 56 deg. , and its spe­cif­ic ro­ta­tion is -30.70 deg. . “Lact-​al­bu­min” oc­curs in all kinds of milk. The glob­ulins are in­sol­uble in wa­ter and in di­lute acids, but sol­uble in al­ka­lies and in neu­tral salt so­lu­tions; these so­lu­tions are co­ag­ulat­ed on boil­ing. “Serum-​glob­ulin,” al­so termed glob­ulin or fib­ri­no-​plas­tic glob­ulin, para­glob­ulin and para­globin, oc­curs in blood serum; “cell-​glob­ulins” oc­cur in many or­gans–liv­er, kid­neys, pan­creas and the thy­roid gland, al­so in mus­cle-​plas­ma; “crys­talline,” a glob­ulin oc­cur­ring in two forms a and b, is found in the lens of the eye; “egg-​glob­ulin” and “lac­to- glob­ulin” oc­cur re­spec­tive­ly in the white of egg and in milk. Plant al­bu­mins or phy­to-​al­bu­mins have been chiefly in­ves­ti­gat­ed in the case of those oc­cur­ring in seeds; most are glob­ulins, in­sol­uble in pure wa­ter, but sol­uble in salt so­lu­tions; “edes­tin,” a glob­ulin of this class, is very wide­ly dis­tribut­ed. Oth­er va­ri­eties or class­es of these com­pounds are: plant ca­seins, phy­to-​vitellines, legu­mins and con­glutins. Fib­rino­gen oc­curs in the blood plas­ma, and is changed by a fer­ment in­to fib­rin, to which the clot­ting of blood is due. Fib­rino­gen is in­sol­uble in wa­ter, but sol­uble in salt so­lu­tions; it has three dif­fer­ent co­ag­ula­tion tem­per­atures, 56 deg. , 67 deg. , 75 deg. . Fib­rin, pro­duced from fib­rino­gen by a fer­ment, is a jel­ly-​like sub­stance, co­ag­ula­ble by heat, al­co­hol, &c. The mus­cle-​al­bu­mins in­clude “myosin” or paramyosino­gen, a glob­ulin, which by co­ag­ula­tion in­duces rig­or mor­tis, and the close­ly re­lat­ed “myosino­gen” or myo­gen; myo­glob­ulin and myoal­bu­min are al­so found in mus­cles. The nu­cleo-​al­bu­mins or phos­pho-​glob­ulins are in­sol­uble in wa­ter and acids, but sol­uble in al­ka­lies, and have an acid re­ac­tion. “Ca­seino­gen” (af­ter W. D. Hal­libur­ton) is the chief al­bu­min of milk; its com­po­si­tion varies with the an­imal. It is in­sol­uble in wa­ter, while its salts are read­ily sol­uble. “Eu­ca­sein” is the am­mo­ni­um salt; “nu­trose” and “plas­mon” are sodi­um salts. By the ren­net fer­ment ca­seino­gen is con­vert­ed in­to ca­sein, a sub­stance re­sem­bling ca­seino­gen in be­ing sol­uble in wa­ter, but dif­fer­ing in hav­ing an in­sol­uble cal­ci­um salt. The for­ma­tion of ca­sein in­volves the cur­dling of milk. Oth­er phos­pho­glob­ulins are vitelline, found in the yolk of hens’ eggs, and ichthulin, found in the eggs of fish. Hi­stones are a class of al­bu­mins sol­uble in wa­ter and acids, but es­sen­tial­ly ba­sic in char­ac­ter; hence they are pre­cip­itat­ed by al­ka­lies. It is re­mark­able that many hi­stones are sol­uble in an ex­cess of al­ka­li. They do not ex­ist in a free state, but in com­bi­na­tion with a “pros­thet­ic group” (af­ter A. Kos­sel) they give rise to im­por­tant cell con­stituents–haemoglobin, nu­cleo-​pro­tei­ds, &c. “Thy­mus hi­stone” oc­curs in the thy­mus gland; globin oc­curs in com­bi­na­tion as haemoglobin; oth­er hi­stones have been ex­tract­ed from the red blood cor­pus­cles of the goose and the testes of fish­es and oth­er an­imals. The pro­tamines are a well-​char­ac­ter­ized class of al­bu­mins found in the ripe sper­ma­to­zoa of fish­es.

Al­bu­moses and Pep­tones.–The pri­ma­ry prod­ucts of the dis­so­ci­ation of al­bu­mins are the al­bu­moses, char­ac­ter­ized by not be­ing co­ag­ula­ble by heat, more sol­uble than the al­bu­mins, hav­ing a far less com­plex com­po­si­tion, and ca­pa­ble of be­ing “salt­ed out” by cer­tain salts, and the pep­tones, sim­ilar to al­bu­moses but not ca­pa­ble of be­ing “salt­ed out”; more­over, pep­tones are less com­plex than al­bu­moses. By fur­ther de­com­po­si­tion pep­tones yield pep­tides, a cer­tain num­ber of which have been syn­the­sized by Emil Fis­ch­er and his col­lab­ora­tors. Al­bu­moses and pep­tones are white pow­ders, read­ily sol­uble in wa­ter, with the ex­cep­tion of the het­ero-​al­bu­moses–a sub­di­vi­sion of pri­ma­ry al­bu­moses. They give the bi­uret and xan­tho­pro­te­ic re­ac­tions, and form salts with both acids and bases. Al­bu­moses and pep­tones are ob­tained by pep­tic di­ges­tion, the lat­ter be­ing termed pep­tic- pep­tones; tryp­tic di­ges­tion al­so pro­duces pep­tones. Acids and moist heat in­duce sim­ilar changes.

Pro­tei­ds.–These sub­stances are com­bi­na­tions of one or more al­bu­mins with a rad­ical of an es­sen­tial­ly dif­fer­ent na­ture, termed by Kos­sel a “pros­thet­ic group.” It is con­ve­nient to clas­si­fy pro­tei­ds by those groups. “Nu­cleo-​pro­tei­ds,” con­stituents of the cell-​nu­cle­us, are com­bi­na­tions of al­bu­mins and nu­cle­ic acid; they al­ways con­tain iron. They are loose, white, non-​hy­gro­scop­ic pow­ders, sol­uble in wa­ter and salt so­lu­tions, and have an acid re­ac­tion; they give the colour re­ac­tions of al­bu­mins. Nu­cle­ic acid is at present of un­known con­sti­tu­tion; de­com­po­si­tion prod­ucts are: phos­pho­ric acid, uracil or 2.6-dioxy-​pyrim­idin,1 cy­tosin or 2-oxy-6-amino-​pyrim­idin, thymin (nu­cle­osin) or 2.6-dioxy-5-methyl pyrim­idin hy­pox­an­thin1 or 6-oxy­purin, xan­thin or 2.6-dioxy­purin, ade­nine or 6 amino-​purin, gua­nine or 2-amino-6-oxy­purin, pen­toses (l-​xy­lose), lae­vulin­ic acid, am­mo­nia, etc. The nu­cle­ic acids vary with the source of the pro­tei­ds, there be­ing con­sid­er­able dif­fer­ences in chem­ical com­po­si­tion. In gen­er­al they are white, loose pow­ders, slight­ly sol­uble in cold wa­ter, more sol­uble in hot wa­ter; they are pre­cip­itat­ed by min­er­al acids, but dis­solve in an ex­cess. They are dex­tro­ro­ta­to­ry, and the spe­cif­ic ro­ta­tion is nu­mer­ical­ly greater than that of al­bu­min; hence the pro­tei­ds are, in gen­er­al, dex­tro­ro­ta­to­ry.

An im­por­tant nu­cleo-​pro­teid is haemoglob­ulin or haemoglobin, the colour­ing mat­ter of the red blood cor­pus­cles of ver­te­brates; a re­lat­ed sub­stance, haemo­cyanin, in which the iron of haemoglobin is re­placed by cop­per, oc­curs in the blood of cephalopods and cray­fish. Haemoglobin is com­posed of a ba­sic al­bu­min and an acid sub­stance haematin; it com­bines read­ily with oxy­gen, car­bon diox­ide and car­bon monox­ide to form loose com­pounds (see NU­TRI­TION.) It co­ag­ulates at 64 deg. . By a di­lute acid haemoglobin is de­com­posed in­to globin, and “haematin,” a fer­ri-​pyrrol deriva­tive of the prob­able for­mu­la C34H34N4FeO5; un­der cer­tain con­di­tions the iron-​free “haemato­por­phyrin” is ob­tained. This last sub­stance may be re­duced to meso­por­phyrin, C34H38O4N4, which by fur­ther re­duc­tion gives haemo-​pyrrol, C8H13N, pos­si­bly methyl-​propyl-​pyrrol or butyl-​pyrrol. Oth­er deriva­tives are haemin, haemochro­mogen and the haema­tinic acids.

“Gly­co-​pro­tei­ds” dif­fer from nu­cleo-​pro­tei­ds in con­tain­ing a car­bo­hy­drate rad­ical, which is lib­er­at­ed on­ly by boil­ing with min­er­al acids or al­ka­lies. The mucins and mu­coids be­long to this group; they are acid and con­tain no phos­pho­rus; they give the al­bu­min colour re­ac­tions but are not co­ag­ulat­ed by heat. Mucins oc­cur in most of the slimy flu­ids of the body; they vary in com­po­si­tion with their source. Mu­coids re­sem­ble mucins in their com­po­si­tion and re­ac­tions, but dif­fer, in gen­er­al, in their phys­ical prop­er­ties. They oc­cur in ten­dons, bones and car­ti­lage. The “phos­pho-​gly­co-​pro­tei­ds” re­sem­ble the mucins and mu­coids in con­tain­ing a car­bo­hy­drate residue, but dif­fer in con­tain­ing phos­pho­rus. Ichthulin (see above) maybe placed in this group; “he­li­co-​pro­teid,” found in the serous gland of He­lix po­ma­tia, the vine­yard snail, al­so be­longs here.

Al­bu­minoids is the anatom­ical name giv­en to al­bu­minous sub­stances form­ing the con­nec­tive tis­sues. Chem­ical­ly they re­sem­ble the al­bu­mins, be­ing split up by acids or fer­ments in­to al­bu­moses, pep­tones and amino-​acids, form­ing salts, and giv­ing the same colour re­ac­tions. They are quite in­sol­uble in wa­ter and in salt so­lu­tions, and dif­fi­cult­ly sol­uble in di­lute acids and al­ka­lies. Typ­ical al­bu­minoids are gelatin, ker­atin, elastin, fi­broin, spon­gin and con­chi­olin.

“Col­la­gen” (Gr. kol­la, glue, and root gen- of gen­naein, to pro­duce, gignesthai, to be­come), the ground-​sub­stance of bones and tis­sues, is de­com­posed by boil­ing wa­ter or on warm­ing with acids in­to sub­stances named gelatin, glutin or glue. Gelatin forms a white amor­phous pow­der; the com­mer­cial prod­uct, how­ev­er, gen­er­al­ly forms glassy plates. The de­com­po­si­tion prod­ucts are gen­er­al­ly the same as with the gen­er­al al­bu­min; it gives the bi­uret re­ac­tion; forms salts with acids and al­ka­lies, but is es­sen­tial­ly acid in na­ture. Im­mersed in cold wa­ter gelatin does not dis­solve but swells up; it dis­solves read­ily in hot wa­ter, form­ing, ac­cord­ing to the quan­ti­ty present, a thick jel­ly which so­lid­ifies to a hard mass on cool­ing (the “glue” of the wood- work­er), or a thin jel­ly (used in cook­ery). Gelatin oc­curs al­so in the cornea and the scle­rot­ic coat of the eye; and in fish scales, the lat­ter con­tain­ing 80% of col­la­gen, and 20% of ichthyle­pidin, a sub­stance dif­fer­ing from gelatin in giv­ing a well-​marked Mil­lon’s re­ac­tion. Ker­atin (Gr. keras, a horn), the chief con­stituent of horny ma­te­ri­al, oc­curs in hair, nails, hoofs and feath­ers. It is quite in­sol­uble in wa­ter, di­lute acids and al­ka­lies. Re­lat­ed to this sub­stance are “neu­ro-​ker­atin,” found in the medullary sheath of nerves, and “gor­gonin,” the ma­trix of the ax­ial skele­ton of the coral Gor­gonia Cavolinii. Elastin oc­curs ei­ther as thick strands or as mem­branes; it con­sti­tutes the “elas­tic tis­sue” of the anatomist. Its in­sol­ubil­ity is much the same as ker­atin. “Fi­broin” and silk-​glue or sericin oc­cur in nat­ural silk fi­bres. Fi­broin is in­sol­uble in wa­ter, acids and alka­nes; silk-​glue re­sem­bles gelatin in its sol­ubil­ity, but it is less read­ily gela­tinized. “Spon­gin,” the ma­trix of bath-​sponge, is in­sol­uble in wa­ter and di­lute acids, but sol­uble in con­cen­trat­ed min­er­al acids. “Con­chi­olin,” the ma­trix of shells of the mol­lus­ca, is on­ly slight­ly sol­uble in acids. “Cornein” forms the frame­work of corals. “Amy­loid” oc­curs as a patho­log­ical prod­uct, and al­so in the healthy aor­ta and in old car­ti­lage. It is an al­bu­min, and not a car­bo­hy­drate as was for­mer­ly held; and gives most of the colour re­ac­tions of al­bu­mins. It forms shiny, ho­mo­ge­neous mass­es, quite in­sol­uble in cold wa­ter and in salt so­lu­tions, but sol­uble in al­ka­lies. The al­bu­moids in­clude, ac­cord­ing to Cohn­heim, sub­stances which pos­sess cer­tain prop­er­ties in com­mon, but dif­fer from the pre­ced­ing groups. In gen­er­al they re­sem­ble co­ag­ulat­ed al­bu­min, and al­so the gelatin-​yield­ing tis­sues, but they them­selves do not yield gelatin.

Colour­ing mat­ters de­rived from al­bu­mins in­clude the “melanins” (Gr. melas, black), sub­stances which dif­fer very con­sid­er­ably in com­po­si­tion, the sul­phur and iron con­tent be­ing by no means con­stant; they do not give the re­ac­tions of al­bu­mins. The black colour­ing mat­ter of hair, the skin of ne­groes, and of the ink bag of Sepia have been ex­am­ined. Melanins ob­tained from tu­mours form black, shiny mass­es; they are in­sol­uble in wa­ter, neu­tral salt so­lu­tions, di­lute acids and in the com­mon or­gan­ic sol­vents.

1 6 /N = C\ 1 The pyrim­idin ring is num­bered 2C C5 For the purin ring, see PURIN. \\N - C// 3 4

AL­BU­MIN­URIA (Phys­io­log­ical or Func­tion­al), a term in­di­cat­ing the pres­ence of al­bu­min in the urine. This may de­pend on a num­ber of mor­bid con­di­tions, of which kid­ney trou­bles, acute ill­ness­es and ve­nous con­ges­tion are some of the com­mon­er. But af­ter ex­clu­sion of all known patho­log­ical caus­es, there still re­mains a large class of cas­es among sub­jects who ap­pear to be in per­fect health. This form has been called func­tion­al or phys­io­log­ical al­bu­min­uria, in­ter­mit­tent al­bu­min­uria, &c. Its recog­ni­tion is of ex­treme im­por­tance, as it must be dis­tin­guished from the al­bu­min­uria due to Bright’s dis­ease and oth­er trou­bles. The fol­low­ing are the main forms that have been de­scribed:–(1) Di­etet­ic Al­bu­min­uria. This form af­fects some peo­ple af­ter par­tak­ing of a meal con­sist­ing large­ly of al­bu­minous foods, such as eggs. In oth­ers any ex­tra in­dul­gence in the plea­sures of the ta­ble may give rise to it. (2) Cyclic Al­bu­min­uria. This name was first used by the phys­iol­ogist Pavy, but oth­er ob­servers have called the same con­di­tion “pos­tu­ral al­bu­min­uria.” It oc­curs in peo­ple en­joy­ing per­fect health, and is char­ac­ter­ized by the pres­ence of al­bu­min in the urine at cer­tain times of the day. It has been shown to de­pend en­tire­ly on the as­sump­tion of the erect po­si­tion, and it dis­ap­pears as a re­sult of the re­cum­bent po­si­tion at night. (3) Al­bu­min­uria from ex­er­cise. This form af­fects some peo­ple af­ter any un­usu­al mus­cu­lar ex­er­tion. (4) Pro­longed men­tal strain or wor­ry may give rise to a tran­sient form of al­bu­min­uria. (5) Ado­les­cent al­bu­min­uria is met with in some sub­jects, es­pe­cial­ly boys. The ques­tion of the re­al sig­nif­icance of “phys­io­log­ical” al­bu­min­uria is one about which there is much dif­fer­ence of opin­ion. But its im­por­tance and recog­ni­tion–es­pe­cial­ly in ques­tions of life in­sur­ance–ad­mits of no ques­tion.

AL­BU­QUERQUE, ALPHON­SO D, (in Old Port. AF­FON­SO D’AL­BO­QUERQUE) (1453-1515), sur­named THE GREAT, and THE POR­TUGUESE MARS, was born in 1453 at Alexan­dria, near Lis­bon. Through his fa­ther, Gon­za­lvo, who held an im­por­tant po­si­tion at court, he was con­nect­ed by il­le­git­imate de­scent with the roy­al fam­ily of Por­tu­gal. He was ed­ucat­ed at the court of Alphon­so V., and af­ter the death of that monarch seems to have served for some time in Africa. On his re­turn he was ap­point­ed es­tribeiro-​mor (chief equer­ry) to John II. In 1503 he set out on his first ex­pe­di­tion to the East, which was to be the scene of his fu­ture tri­umphs. In com­pa­ny with his kins­man Fran­cis­co he sailed round the Cape of Good Hope to In­dia, and suc­ceed­ed in es­tab­lish­ing the king of Cochin se­cure­ly on his throne, ob­tain­ing in re­turn for this ser­vice per­mis­sion to build a Por­tuguese fort at Cochin, and thus lay­ing the foun­da­tion of his coun­try’s em­pire in the East. He re­turned home in Ju­ly 1504, and was well re­ceived by King Em­manuel, who en­trust­ed him with the com­mand of a squadron of five ves­sels in the fleet of six­teen which sailed for In­dia in 1506 un­der Tris­tan da Cun­ha. Af­ter a se­ries of suc­cess­ful at­tacks on the Arab cities on the east coast of Africa, Al­bu­querque sep­arat­ed from Da Cun­ha, and sailed with his squadron against the is­land of Or­muz, in the Per­sian Gulf, which was then one of the chief cen­tres of com­merce in the East. He ar­rived on the 25th of Septem­ber 1507, and soon ob­tained pos­ses­sion of the is­land, though he was un­able long to main­tain his po­si­tion. With his squadron in­creased by three ves­sels, he reached the Mal­abar coast at the close of the year 1508, and im­me­di­ate­ly made known the com­mis­sion he had re­ceived from the king em­pow­er­ing him to su­per­sede the gov­er­nor Fran­cis­co de Almei­da. The lat­ter, how­ev­er, re­fused to rec­og­nize Al­bu­querque’s cre­den­tials and cast him in­to prison, from which he was on­ly re­leased, af­ter three months’ con­fine­ment, on the ar­rival of the grand-​mar­shal of Por­tu­gal with a large fleet. Almei­da hav­ing re­turned home, Al­bu­querque speed­ily showed the en­er­gy and de­ter­mi­na­tion of his char­ac­ter. An un­suc­cess­ful at­tack up­on Cali­cut in Jan­uary 1510, in which the com­man­der- in-​chief re­ceived a se­vere wound, was im­me­di­ate­ly fol­lowed by the in­vest­ment and cap­ture of Goa. Al­bu­querque, find­ing him­self un­able to hold the town on his first oc­cu­pa­tion, aban­doned it in Au­gust, to re­turn with the re­in­force­ments in Novem­ber, when he ob­tained undis­put­ed pos­ses­sion. He next di­rect­ed his forces against Malac­ca, which he sub­dued af­ter a se­vere strug­gle. He re­mained in the town near­ly a year in or­der to strength­en the po­si­tion of the Por­tuguese pow­er. In 1512 he sailed for the coast of Mal­abar. On the voy­age a vi­olent storm arose, Al­bu­querque’s ves­sel, the “Flor de la Mar,” which car­ried the trea­sure he had amassed in his con­quests, was wrecked, and he him­self bare­ly es­caped with his life. In Septem­ber of the same year he ar­rived at Goa, where he quick­ly sup­pressed a se­ri­ous re­volt head­ed by Idal­can, and took such mea­sures for the se­cu­ri­ty and peace of the town that it be­came the most flour­ish­ing of the Por­tuguese set­tle­ments in In­dia. Al­bu­querque had been for some time un­der or­ders from the home gov­ern­ment to un­der­take an ex­pe­di­tion to the Red Sea, in or­der to se­cure that chan­nel of com­mu­ni­ca­tion ex­clu­sive­ly to Por­tu­gal. He ac­cord­ing­ly laid siege to Aden in 1513, but was re­pulsed; and a voy­age in­to the Red Sea, the first ev­er made by a Eu­ro­pean fleet, led to no sub­stan­tial re­sults. In or­der to de­stroy the pow­er of Egypt, he is said to have en­ter­tained the idea of di­vert­ing the course of the Nile and so ren­der­ing the whole coun­try bar­ren. His last war­like un­der­tak­ing was a sec­ond at­tack up­on Or­muz in 1515. The is­land yield­ed to him with­out re­sis­tance, and it re­mained in the pos­ses­sion of the Por­tuguese un­til 1622. Al­bu­querque’s great ca­reer had a painful and ig­no­min­ious close. He had sev­er­al en­emies at the Por­tuguese court who lost no op­por­tu­ni­ty of stir­ring up the jeal­ousy of the king against him, and his own in­ju­di­cious and ar­bi­trary con­duct on sev­er­al oc­ca­sions served their end on­ly too well. On his re­turn from Or­muz, at the en­trance of the har­bour of Goa, he met a ves­sel from Eu­rope bear­ing despatch­es an­nounc­ing that he was su­per­seded by his per­son­al en­emy Soarez. The blow was too much for him and he died at sea on the 16th of De­cem­ber 1515. Be­fore his death he wrote a let­ter to the king in dig­ni­fied and af­fect­ing terms, vin­di­cat­ing his con­duct and claim­ing for his son the hon­ours and re­wards that were just­ly due to him­self. His body was buried at Goa in the Church of our La­dy, and it is per­haps the most con­vinc­ing proof pos­si­ble of the jus­tice of his ad­min­is­tra­tion that, many years af­ter, Mus­sul­mans and Hin­dus used to go to his tomb to in­voke pro­tec­tion against the in­jus­tice of his suc­ces­sors. The king of Por­tu­gal was con­vinced too late of his fi­deli­ty, and en­deav­oured to atone for the in­grat­itude with which he had treat­ed him by heap­ing hon­ours up­on his nat­ural son Al­fon­so. The lat­ter pub­lished a se­lec­tion from his fa­ther’s pa­pers un­der the ti­tle Com­men­tar­ios do Grande Af­fon­so d’Al­bo­querque .

See the Car­tas de Al­bu­querque, pub­lished by the Lis­bon Acade­my (vol. i., 1884); al­so Morse Stephens’ Life of Al­bu­querque; an ar­ti­cle in the Bolitim of the Lis­bon Ge­ograph­ical So­ci­ety (Jan­uary to June 1902) on “O anti­go Im­pe­ri­al­is­mo por­tuguez, &c.,” has es­pe­cial ref­er­ence to Al­bu­querque.

AL­BU­QUERQUE, a city and the coun­ty-​seat of Bernalil­lo coun­ty, New Mex­ico, U.S.A., sit­uat­ed in the cen­tral part of the state, about 325 m. S. by W. of Den­ver, on the E. bank of the Rio Grande, at an al­ti­tude of 4950 ft. Pop. (1890) 3785; (1900) 6238 (956 for­eign-​born and 226 ne­groes); (1910 cen­sus) 11,020. In 1900 Al­bu­querque was the largest city in New Mex­ico. It is the con­nect­ing point of two main lines of the Atchi­son, Tope­ka & San­ta Fe rail­way sys­tem. A short dis­tance E. of the city is the uni­ver­si­ty of New Mex­ico, un­der state con­trol, found­ed in 1889 and opened in 1892; in 1908 it had a col­lege of let­ters and sci­ence, a school of en­gi­neer­ing, a school of ed­uca­tion, a prepara­to­ry school and a com­mer­cial school. Al­bu­querque is al­so the seat of the Har­wood In­dus­tri­al School (Methodist) for Mex­ican girls, of the Menaul Mis­sion School (Pres­by­te­ri­an) for Mex­ican boys, and of a gov­ern­ment In­di­an train­ing school (1881) for boys and girls. The city has a pub­lic li­brary. The ex­cel­lent cli­mate has giv­en Al­bu­querque and the sur­round­ing coun­try a rep­uta­tion as a health re­sort. The city is an im­por­tant rail­way cen­tre, has ex­ten­sive rail­way re­pair shops and stock-​yards, and ex­ports large quan­ti­ties of live-​stock, hides and wool. The largest in­dus­tri­al es­tab­lish­ment is the Amer­ican Lum­ber Com­pa­ny’s plant, in­clud­ing a saw-​mill, a sash, door and blind fac­to­ry and a box fac­to­ry. The tim­ber used, chiefly white pine, is ob­tained from the Zu­ni moun­tains. The city has al­so flour and woollen mills, brew­eries and ice fac­to­ries. The old Span­ish town of Al­bu­querque (pop. in 1900 about 1200) lies about 1 m. W. of the present city; it was found­ed in 1706, and was named in hon­our of the duke of Al­bu­querque, viceroy of New Spain from 1702 to 1710. Dur­ing the Civ­il War it was oc­cu­pied, late in Febru­ary 1862, by Con­fed­er­ate troops un­der Gen­er­al Hen­ry Hop­kins Sib­ley (1816-1886), who soon af­ter­wards ad­vanced with his main body in­to north­ern New Mex­ico. In his re­treat back in­to Texas he made a stand on the 8th of April 1862 at Al­bu­querque, where dur­ing the whole day there was a fight at long range and with few ca­su­al­ties against a de­tach­ment of Union sol­diers com­mand­ed by Colonel Ed­ward R. S. Can­by (1819-1873). The mod­ern city dates its ori­gin from the com­ple­tion of the first rail­way to Al­bu­querque in 1880.

AL­BUR­NUM (sap­wood), the out­er­most and youngest part of the wood of a tree, through which the sap ris­es. It is dis­tin­guished from the hard­er in­ner and old­er wood, the du­ra­men or heart-​wood.

AL­BURY, a town in Goul­burn coun­ty, New South Wales, Aus­tralia, 386 m. by rail W.S.W. of Syd­ney. Pop. (1901) 5821. It stands near the bor­der of Vic­to­ria, on the right bank of the Mur­ray riv­er, here crossed by two bridges, one built of wood car­ry­ing a road, the oth­er of iron bear­ing the rail­way. The Mur­ray is nav­iga­ble for small steam­ers from this town to its mouth, a dis­tance of 1800 miles. Al­bury is the cen­tre of a sheep- rear­ing and agri­cul­tur­al dis­trict; grapes, ce­re­als and to­bac­co are large­ly grown, and the wine pro­duced here is held in high re­pute through­out Aus­tralia. The tree un­der which the first ex­plor­ers en­camped here in Novem­ber 1824 is still stand­ing in an en­closed space. Al­bury be­came a mu­nic­ipal­ity in 1859.

AL­CAEUS (ALKA­IOS), Greek lyric po­et, an old­er con­tem­po­rary of Sap­pho, was a na­tive of Myti­lene in Les­bos and flour­ished about 600 B.C. His life was great­ly mixed up with the po­lit­ical dis­putes and in­ter­nal feuds of his na­tive city. He be­longed to one of the no­ble fam­ilies, and sid­ed with his class against the “tyrants” who at that time set them­selves up in Myti­lene. He was in con­se­quence obliged to leave his na­tive coun­try, and spent a con­sid­er­able time in ex­ile. He is said to have be­come rec­on­ciled to Pit­ta­cus, the ruler set up by the pop­ular par­ty, and to have re­turned to Les­bos. The date of his death is un­known. The sub­jects of his po­ems, which were com­posed in the Ae­olic di­alect, were of var­ious kinds: some were hymns to the gods; oth­ers were of a mar­tial or po­lit­ical char­ac­ter; oth­ers breathed an ar­dent love of lib­er­ty and ha­tred of tyrants; last­ly, some were love-​songs. Al­caeus was al­lot­ted the sec­ond place among the nine lyric po­ets in the Alexan­dri­an canon. The con­sid­er­able num­ber of frag­ments ex­tant, and the well-​known im­ita­tions of Ho­race, who re­gard­ed Al­caeus as his great mod­el, en­able us to form a fair idea of the char­ac­ter of his po­ems. A new frag­ment has re­cent­ly been dis­cov­ered, to­geth­er with some frag­ments of Sap­pho (Clas­si­cal Re­view, May 1902).

See Bergk, Po­et­ae Lyri­ci Grae­ci (1882); al­so The Songs of Al­caeus, by J. Eas­by-​Smith (Wash­ing­ton, 1901); Plehn, Les­bi­aco­rum Liber (1826); Flach, Geschichte der griechis­chen Lyrik (1883-1884); Far­nell, Greek Lyric Po­ets (1891).

AL­CAICS, in an­cient po­et­ry, a name giv­en to sev­er­al kinds of verse, from Al­caeus, their re­put­ed in­ven­tor. The first kind con­sists of five feet, viz. a spondee or iambic, an iambic, a long syl­la­ble and two dactyles; the sec­ond of two dactyles and two trochees. Be­sides these, which are called dactylic Al­caics, there is an­oth­er, sim­ply styled Al­ca­ic, con­sist­ing of an epitrite, two cho­ri­ambi and a bac­chius; thus–

Cur timet fla|vum Tiber­im | tan­gere, cur | olivum?

The Al­ca­ic ode is com­posed of sev­er­al stro­phes, each con­sist­ing of four vers­es, the first two of which are al­ways eleven-​syl­la­ble al­caics of the first kind; the third verse is an iambic dime­ter hy­per­catalec­tic con­sist­ing of nine syl­la­bles; and the fourth verse is a ten-​syl­la­ble al­ca­ic of the sec­ond kind. The fol­low­ing stro­phe is of this species, which Ho­race calls Al­caei mi­naces ca­me­nae–

Non pos­si­den­tem mul­ta vo­caveris Recte bea­tum; rec­tius oc­cu­pat Nomen beati, qui de­orum Muner­ibus sapi­en­ter uti. There is al­so a deca­syl­lab­ic va­ri­ety of the Al­ca­ic me­tre.

The Al­ca­ic mea­sure was one of the most splen­did in­ven­tions of Greek met­ri­cal art. In its best ex­am­ples it gives an im­pres­sion of won­der­ful vigour and spon­tane­ity. Ten­nyson has at­tempt­ed to re­pro­duce it in En­glish in his

O mighty-​mouthed in­ven­tor of har­monies, O skilled to sing of time or eter­ni­ty, God-​gift­ed or­gan-​voice of Eng­land, Mil­ton, a name to re­sound for ages. Ger­man is, how­ev­er, the on­ly mod­ern lit­er­ature in which al­caics have been writ­ten with much suc­cess. They were in­tro­duced by Klop­stock, and used by Hold­er­lin, by Voss in his trans­la­tions of Ho­race, by A. Kopisch and oth­er mod­ern Ger­man po­ets.

AL­CALA (Moor­ish al Kala, the “Fortress” or “Cas­tle”), the name of thir­teen Span­ish towns, all found­ed or named by the Moors. Al­cala de Henares (pop. (1900) 11,206) is sep­arate­ly de­scribed on ac­count of its his­tor­ical im­por­tance. Al­cala la Re­al (15,973), a pic­turesque town with a fine abbey, is sit­uat­ed in moun­tain­ous coun­try in the ex­treme south-​west of Jaen. Its dis­tinc­tive name la Re­al, “the Roy­al,” was con­ferred in mem­ory of its cap­ture by Alphon­so XI. of Leon in 1340. In 1810 the French un­der Count Se­bas­tiani here de­feat­ed the Spaniards. Al­cala de los Gazules (8877), on the riv­er Bar­bate, in the province of Cadiz, has a thriv­ing trade in cork and agri­cul­tur­al pro­duce. Al­cala de Guadaira (8198), on the riv­er Guadaira, near Seville, is pop­ular­ly called Al­cala de los Panadores, or “Al­cala of the Bak­ers,” be­cause it sup­plies Seville with large quan­ti­ties of bread. Al­cala de Chis­bert (6293) is sit­uat­ed on the coast of Castel­lon de la Plana; Al­cala del Rio (3006), on the Guadalquivir, 6 m. N. of Seville; Al­cala del Ju­car (2968), on the Ju­car, in Al­bacete; Al­cala de la Sel­va (1490), on the south­ern slopes of the Sier­ra del Gu­dar, in Teru­el; Al­cala de la Ve­ga (712), on the riv­er Cabriel, in Cuen­ca; Al­cala de Gur­rea (632), on the riv­er Se­ton, in Huesca; Al­cala del Obis­po (432), in the same province; Al­cala de Ebro (388) and Al­cala de Mon­cayo (367), both in Saragos­sa.

AL­CALA DE HENARES, a town of Spain, in the province of Madrid, 17 m. E.N.E. of Madrid, on the riv­er Henares, and the Madrid-​Saragos­sa rail­way. Pop. (1900) 11,206. Al­cala de Henares con­tains a mil­itary acade­my and var­ious pub­lic in­sti­tu­tions, but its com­mer­cial im­por­tance is slight and its main in­ter­est is his­tor­ical. The town has been iden­ti­fied with the Ro­man Com­plu­tum, which was de­stroyed about the year 1000, and was re­built by the Moors in 1083. In lat­er times it was renowned for its rich­ly en­dowed uni­ver­si­ty, found­ed by Car­di­nal Jimenes de Cis­neros in 1510, which at the height of its pros­per­ity num­bered 12,000 stu­dents, and was sec­ond on­ly to that of Sala­man­ca. Here the fa­mous edi­tion of the Bible known as the Com­pluten­sian Poly­glot was pre­pared from 1514 to 1517. The col­lege of San Ilde­fon­so, com­plet­ed in 1583, was the chief uni­ver­si­ty build­ing. Its mod­ern­ized Goth­ic church, the Cole­gia­ta, con­tains the 16th cen­tu­ry mar­ble mon­ument of Jimenes (d. 1517) and a fine rere­dos. The great­est of Span­ish writ­ers, Cer­vantes, was born at Al­cala de Henares, and bap­tized in the oth­er­wise in­signif­icant church of S. Maria on the 9th of Oc­to­ber 1547. A tablet, set up in 1840, marks the house in which he is said to have been born. Oth­er il­lus­tri­ous na­tives of the town were the em­per­or Fer­di­nand I. (1503-1564) and the Span­ish drama­tist and his­to­ri­an An­to­nio de So­lis (1610-1686). Af­ter the re­moval of the uni­ver­si­ty to Madrid in 1836 the town rapid­ly de­clined, and the gov­ern­ment turned most of the prin­ci­pal build­ings erect­ed by Car­di­nal Jimenes in the 16th cen­tu­ry in­to a de­pot for the archives of var­ious state de­part­ments. Here are kept very com­plete and cu­ri­ous doc­uments of the In­qui­si­tion, show­ing all its work­ings from the 15th to the 19th cen­tu­ry. One of the prin­ci­pal li­braries is the for­mer palace of the arch­bish­ops of Tole­do.

For a fuller de­scrip­tion of Al­cala see the Guia del vi­ajero en Al­cala de Henares, by L. A. de la Torre (Al­cala, 1882). The fol­low­ing works are main­ly of his­tor­ical in­ter­est:–M. de Ay­ala and F. Sas­tre, Al­cala de Henares (Madrid, 1890); J. C. Gar­cia, En­sayo de una Ti­pografia Com­plutense (Madrid, 1889); M. Por­tilla y Es­quiv­el, His­to­ria de la ciu­dad de Com­plu­to (Al­cala, 1725-1728); and the “An­nales Com­plutens­es” and “Chron­icon Com­plutense” in Es­pana Sagra­da, by H. Flo­rez and oth­ers (Madrid, 1754-1879).

AL­CALDE (from the Arab. al-​qua­di, the “Ca­di” or “judge,’), the ti­tle in Span­ish for of­fi­cials of some­what var­ied func­tions, in which, how­ev­er, there is al­ways a ju­di­cial el­ement. Al­calde de corte was a judge of the palace court, hav­ing ju­ris­dic­tion in and about the res­idence of the king. But the may­or of a town or vil­lage who dis­charged the func­tions of a jus­tice of the peace was al­so an al­calde. It is in this sense that the ti­tle is now ex­clu­sive­ly used. He is sub­ject to year­ly elec­tion and the post has of­ten been an un­de­sir­able one in Spain. The ti­tle of al­calde must be care­ful­ly dis­tin­guished from al­caide, which is de­rived from the Ara­bic al-​quaid, a gen­er­al, and means the gov­er­nor of a fortress.

AL­CAMENES, a Greek sculp­tor of Lem­nos and Athens. He was a younger con­tem­po­rary of Phei­dias and not­ed for the del­ica­cy and fin­ish of his works, among which a Hep­haes­tus and an Aphrodite “of the Gar­dens” were con­spic­uous. Pau­sa­nias says (v. 10. 8) that he was the au­thor of one of the ped­iments of the tem­ple of Zeus at Olympia (see GREEK ART), but this seems a chrono­log­ical and stylis­tic im­pos­si­bil­ity. At Perga­mum there was dis­cov­ered in 1903 a copy of the head of the Her­mes “Propy­laeus” of Al­camenes (Athenis­che Mit­theilun­gen, 1904, p. 180). As, how­ev­er, the de­ity is rep­re­sent­ed in an ar­chais­tic and con­ven­tion­al char­ac­ter, this copy can­not be re­lied on as giv­ing us much in­for­ma­tion as to the usu­al style of Al­camenes, who was al­most cer­tain­ly a pro­gres­sive and orig­inal artist. It is safer to judge him by the sculp­tural dec­ora­tion of the Parthenon, in which he must al­most cer­tain­ly have tak­en a share un­der the di­rec­tion of Phei­dias.

AL­CAMO, a town of Sici­ly, in the province of Tra­pani, 24 m. W.S.W. of Paler­mo di­rect (51 1/2 m. by rail). Pop. (1881) 37,497; (1901) 51,809. It was found­ed in A.D. 828 by the Saracenic chief Al-​Ka­muk, who erect­ed the cas­tle (which still stands, though con­sid­er­ably al­tered), but was chris­tian­ized by the em­per­or Fred­er­ick II. in 1233, who re­moved the site low­er down. It pos­sess­es some me­dieval build­ings of in­ter­est. The sur­round­ing dis­trict is very fer­tile and the trade in agri­cul­tur­al prod­ucts is con­sid­er­able.

AL­CAN­TARA, a small sea­port of Brazil, in the state of Maran­hao, on the W. shore of the bay of Sao Mar­cos, 16 m. from the city of Maran­hao by wa­ter. It has a fair­ly good har­bour, and ex­cel­lent cot­ton and rice are grown in the vicin­ity and shipped thence.

AL­CAN­TARA, a town of west­ern Spain, in the province of Cac­eres, sit­uat­ed on a rocky height on the left bank of the riv­er Tagus, 7 m. from the Por­tuguese fron­tier. Pop. (1900) 3248. Al­can­tara (in Arab. “the bridge”) owes its name to the mag­nif­icent Ro­man bridge which spans the Tagus on the north-​west. This was orig­inal­ly built about A.D. 105, in hon­our of the Ro­man em­per­or Tra­jan and at the cost of eleven Lusi­ta­ni­an com­mu­ni­ties. It is en­tire­ly con­struct­ed of gran­ite blocks, with­out ce­ment, and con­sists of six arch­es of var­ious sizes, with a to­tal length of 616 feet and a height of about 190 ft. in the mid­dle piers, which are sur­mount­ed by a for­ti­fied gate­way. One of the arch­es was bro­ken down in 1213 and re­built in 1553; an­oth­er was blown up by the British troops in 1809, and, though tem­porar­ily re­con­struct­ed, was again de­stroyed in 1836, to pre­vent the pas­sage of the Carlist forces. But in 1860 the whole was re­stored. A small Ro­man tem­ple, ded­icat­ed to Tra­jan and oth­er de­ified em­per­ors, stood on the left bank, ad­join­ing the bridge. It is doubt­ful, how­ev­er, if Al­can­tara marks the site of any Ro­man town, though ar­chae­ol­ogists have some­times iden­ti­fied it ei­ther with Nor­ba Cae­sarea or with In­ter­am­ni­um. It first be­came fa­mous about 1215 as the stronghold of the knight­ly Or­der of Al­can­tara. Many of the grand mas­ters of this or­der lie buried in the 13th-​cen­tu­ry Goth­ic church. The town pos­sess­es an­oth­er in­ter­est­ing church built in 1506.

See An­tiguedades y san­tos de la muy no­ble vil­la de Al­can­tara, by J. Arias de Quin­tanadue­nas (Madrid, 1661); and Re­tra­to politi­co de Al­can­tara, by L. San­tibanez (Madrid, 1779).

AL­CAV­ALA (Span­ish, from Arab. al-​qua­bal­ah, “tax,” quab­ula, “to re­ceive”; cf. Fr. gabelle), a du­ty for­mer­ly charged in Spain and its colonies on all trans­fers of prop­er­ty, whether pub­lic or pri­vate. Orig­inal­ly im­posed in 1341 by Alphon­so XI. to se­cure free­dom from the Moors, it was an ad val­orem tax of 10, in­creased af­ter­wards to 14%, on the sell­ing price of all com­modi­ties, whether raw or man­ufac­tured, charge­able as of­ten as they were sold or ex­changed. It sub­ject­ed ev­ery farmer, man­ufac­tur­er, mer­chant and shop­keep­er to the con­tin­ual vis­its and ex­am­ina­tion of the tax-​gath­er­ers, whose num­ber was nec­es­sar­ily very great. This mon­strous im­post was per­mit­ted to ru­in the in­dus­try and com­merce of the greater part of the king­dom up to the time of the in­va­sion of Napoleon. Cat­alo­nia and Aragon pur­chased from Philip V. an ex­emp­tion from the al­cav­ala, and, though still bur­dened with oth­er heavy tax­es, were in con­se­quence in a com­par­ative­ly flour­ish­ing state.

AL­CAZAR DE SAN JUAN, or AL­CAZAR, a town of Spain, in the province of Ciu­dad Re­al, in the plain of La Man­cha, at the junc­tion of the Madrid-​Man­zanares and Madrid-​Al­bacete rail­ways. Pop. (1900) 11,499. Ow­ing to its po­si­tion on two im­por­tant rail­ways, Al­cazar has a flour­ish­ing tran­sit-​trade in the wines of Es­tremadu­ra and An­dalu­sia; the so­da and al­ka­li of La Man­cha are used in the man­ufac­ture of soap; and gun­pow­der, choco­late and in­laid dag­gers are al­so made here. Al­cazar is some­times iden­ti­fied with the Ro­man Alce. cap­tured by Tiberius Sem­pro­nius Grac­chus in 180 B.C. It de­rives its ex­ist­ing name from its me­dieval Moor­ish cas­tle (al-​kasr), which was af­ter­wards gar­risoned by the knights of St John. The towns­folk con­tend that the great Cer­vantes was a na­tive of Al­cazar; and, al­though this claim must be dis­al­lowed, much of the ac­tion of his mas­ter­piece, Don Quixote, takes place in the neigh­bour­hood. El To­boso, for in­stance, a vil­lage 12 m. E.N.E. [pop. ( 1900) 1895], was the home of the La­dy Dul­cinea del To­boso; Arga­masil­la de Al­ba (3505), 22 m. S.E., is de­clared by tra­di­tion to be the birth­place of Don Quixote him­self. Lo­cal an­ti­quar­ies even iden­ti­fy the knight with Don Ro­dri­go de Pacheco, whose por­trait adorns the parish church; and the same au­thor­ities hold that part of the ro­mance was writ­ten while Cer­vantes was a pris­on­er in their town. An edi­tion of Don Quixote was pub­lished at Arga­masil­la in 1864.

AL­CES­TER, FRED­ER­ICK BEAUCHAMP PAGET SEY­MOUR, BARON (1821-1895), British ad­mi­ral, son of Colonel Sir Ho­race Beauchamp Sey­mour and cousin of Fran­cis George Hugh Sey­mour, 5th mar­quess of Hert­ford, was born on the 12th of April 1821. En­ter­ing the navy in 1834, he served in the Mediter­ranean and the Pa­cif­ic, was for three years flag-​lieu­tenant to his un­cle Sir George Sey­mour, and was pro­mot­ed to be com­man­der in 1847. He served in Bur­ma as a vol­un­teer in 1852, was made a cap­tain in 1854, took the “Me­te­or” iron­clad bat­tery out to the Black Sea and home again in 1856, was cap­tain of the “Pelorus” on the Aus­tralian sta­tion from 1857 to 1863, and com­mand­ed the naval brigade in New Zealand dur­ing the Maori War, 1860-61, for which he was made a C.B. He be­came a rear-​ad­mi­ral in 1870; in 1871-1872 he com­mand­ed the fly­ing squadron, was a lord of the ad­mi­ral­ty in 1872-1874, and com­mand­ed the Chan­nel fleet, 1874-1876. On the 31st of De­cem­ber 1876 he was made a vice-​ad­mi­ral, a K.C.B. on the 2nd of June 1877. In 1880-1883 he was com­man­der-​in-​chief of the fleet in the Mediter­ranean, and in 1880 had al­so the chief com­mand of the Eu­ro­pean squadron sent to the coast of Al­ba­nia as a demon­stra­tion to com­pel the Porte to cede Dul­cig­no to Mon­tene­gro. On the 24th of May 1881 he was made a G.C.B., and on the 6th of May 1882 was pro­mot­ed to the rank of ad­mi­ral. In Ju­ly 1882 he com­mand­ed at the bom­bard­ment of Alexan­dria and in the sub­se­quent op­er­ations on the coast of Egypt, for which ser­vice he was raised to the peer­age as Baron Al­ces­ter of Al­ces­ter in the coun­ty of War­wick, re­ceived a par­lia­men­tary grant of L. 25,000, the free­dom of the city of Lon­don and a sword of hon­our. On his re­turn from the Mediter­ranean he was for a cou­ple of years again at the ad­mi­ral­ty, and in 1886 he was placed on the re­tired list. For the next nine years he lived chiefly in Lon­don, but lat­ter­ly his health was much bro­ken, and he died on the 30th of March 1895. He was un­mar­ried and the peer­age be­came ex­tinct.

AL­CES­TER [pro­nounced Auster, a mar­ket-​town in the Strat­ford-​on-​Avon par­lia­men­tary di­vi­sion of War­wick­shire, Eng­land, 16 m. W.S.W. from War­wick by the Great West­ern rail­way, served al­so by the Birm­ing­ham-​Eve­sham branch of the Mid­land rail­way. Pop. (1901) 2303. It is pleas­ant­ly sit­uat­ed among low wood­ed hills at the junc­tion of the small stream Alne with the Ar­row, a north­ern trib­utary of the Avon. The church of St Nicholas, with the ex­cep­tion of the Dec­orat­ed tow­er, is a re­con­struc­tion of 1734; among sev­er­al mon­uments is a fine ex­am­ple of Chantrey’s work, to the 2nd mar­quess of Hert­ford (d. 1822). There are a pic­turesque town hall (1641), raised on stone columns, and a free gram­mar school. The man­ufac­ture of nee­dles is less im­por­tant than for­mer­ly, hav­ing been ab­sorbed in­to the cen­tre of the in­dus­try at Red­ditch in the neigh­bour­ing coun­ty of Worces­ter­shire. There are im­ple­ment works and cy­cle works, and brew­ing is pros­ecut­ed.

The name (Al­neces­tre, Alynces­ter) sig­ni­fies “the camp on the Alne.” A small Ro­mano-​British town or vil­lage was sit­uat­ed here, on the road which runs from Der­by and Wall, near Lich­field, to join the Fos­se Way near Cirences­ter. Its name is not known. A re­lief fig­ure in stone, some pave­ments, pot­sherds, coins and buri­als have been found, but noth­ing to in­di­cate an im­por­tant sta­tion. No writ­ten doc­ument re­lat­ing to Al­ces­ter ex­ists be­fore the reign of Hen­ry I. No men­tion oc­curs in Domes­day, but it is giv­en in a list of ser­jeanties of the reign of Hen­ry III. as hav­ing been a roy­al bor­ough in the time of Hen­ry I., and in 1177 it ren­dered four marks’ aid with the oth­er bor­oughs of the coun­ty. How­ev­er, there is no ev­idence of the grant of a roy­al char­ter, and the ti­tle of bor­ough soon lapsed. In the reign of Hen­ry III. a moi­ety of the manor was pur­chased by Sir Wal­ter Beauchamp, who grant­ed a char­ter to the in­hab­itants of ihe town es­tab­lish­ing a Tues­day mar­ket for corn, cat­tle, and all kinds of mer­chan­dise, and al­so ob­tained grants of fairs at the feasts of St Giles (af­ter­wards trans­ferred to the feast of St Faith) and St Barn­abas. In 1444 Sir John Beauchamp pur­chased the re­main­ing moi­ety of the manor, and was grant­ed an ad­di­tion­al fair at the feast of St Dun­stan. From this date the Beauchamps were lords of the whole manor un­til it passed by fe­male de­scent to the Gre­villes in the reign of Hen­ry VI­II. in 1140 a Bene­dic­tine monastery was found­ed here by Falph Botel­er of Over­sley, and re­ceived the name of the Church of Our La­dy of the Isle, ow­ing to its in­su­la­tion by a moat meet­ing the riv­er Ar­row. The monastery was sup­pressed among the small­er hous­es in 1536. Traces of the moat and the foun­da­tions are still to be seen in Pri­ory Close. The an­cient fairs sur­vived to the end of the 19th cen­tu­ry. in 1830 the nee­dle-​man­ufac­ture em­ployed near­ly a thou­sand hands.

AL­CES­TIS (ALKESTIS), in Greek leg­end the daugh­ter of Pelias and Anax­ib­ia, and wife of Ad­me­tus, king of Pher­ae in Thes­saly. She con­sent­ed to die in place of her hus­band, and was af­ter­wards res­cued by Her­acles. This beau­ti­ful sto­ry of con­ju­gal de­vo­tion forms the sub­ject of the Al­ces­tis of Eu­ripi­des, which fur­nished the ba­sis of Robert Brown­ing’s Bal­aus­tion’s Ad­ven­ture. Sopho­cles al­so wrote an Al­ces­tis, of which on­ly frag­ments re­main.

See Dis­sel, Der Mythos von Ad­me­tus und Alkestis, 1882.

ALCHE­MY. In the nar­row sense of the word, alche­my is the pre­tend­ed art of mak­ing gold and sil­ver, or trans­mut­ing the base met­als in­to the no­ble ones. The idea of such trans­mu­ta­tion prob­ably arose among the Alexan­dri­an Greeks in the ear­ly cen­turies of the Chris­tian era; thence it passed to the Arabs, by whom it was trans­mit­ted to west­ern Eu­rope, and its re­al­iza­tion was a lead­ing aim of chem­ical work­ers down to the time of Paracel­sus and even lat­er. But “alche­my” was some­thing more than a par­tic­ular­ly vain and de­lud­ed man­ifes­ta­tion of the thirst for gold, as it is some­times rep­re­sent­ed; in its wider and truer sig­nif­icance it stands for the chem­istry of the mid­dle ages. The idea of trans­mu­ta­tion, in the coun­try of its ori­gin, had a philo­soph­ical ba­sis, and was linked up with the Greek the­ories of mat­ter there cur­rent; thus, by sup­ply­ing a cen­tral philo­soph­ical prin­ci­ple, it to some ex­tent uni­fied and fo­cussed chem­ical ef­fort, which pre­vi­ous­ly, so far as it ex­ist­ed at all, had been ex­pend­ed on ac­quir­ing em­pir­ical ac­quain­tance with a mass of dis­con­nect­ed tech­ni­cal pro­cess­es. Alche­my in this sense is mere­ly an ear­ly phase of the de­vel­op­ment of sys­tem­at­ic chem­istry; in Liebig’s words, it was “nev­er at any time any­thing dif­fer­ent from chem­istry.”

Re­gard­ing the deriva­tion of the word, there are two main views which agree in hold­ing that it has an Ara­bic de­scent, the pre­fix al be­ing the Ara­bic ar­ti­cle. But ac­cord­ing to one, the sec­ond part of the word comes from the Greek chumeia, pour­ing, in­fu­sion, used in con­nex­ion with the study of the juices of plants, and thence ex­tend­ed to chem­ical ma­nip­ula­tions in gen­er­al; this deriva­tion ac­counts for the old-​fash­ioned spellings “chymist” and “chym­istry.” The oth­er view traces it to khem or khame, hi­ero­glyph kh­mi, which de­notes black earth as op­posed to bar­ren sand, and oc­curs in Plutarch as chumeia; on this deriva­tion alche­my is ex­plained as mean­ing the “Egyp­tian art.” The first oc­cur­rence of the word is said to be in a trea­tise of Julius Fir­mi­cus, an as­tro­log­ical writ­er of the 4th cen­tu­ry, but the pre­fix al there must be the ad­di­tion of a lat­er copy­ist. Among the Alexan­dri­an writ­ers alche­my was des­ig­nat­ed as e tes chru­sou te kai ar­gurou poieseos techne theia kai iera or e epis­teme iera. In En­glish, Piers Plow­man (1362) con­tains the phrase “ex­per­imen­tis of al­con­omye,” with vari­ants “alken­emye” and “alk­namye.” The pre­fix al be­gins to be dropped about the mid­dle of the 16th cen­tu­ry.

Ori­gins of Alche­my.–Nu­mer­ous leg­ends clus­ter round the ori­gin of alche­my. Ac­cord­ing to one sto­ry, it was found­ed by the Egyp­tian god Her­mes (Thoth), the re­put­ed in­ven­tor of the arts and sci­ences, to whom, un­der the ap­pel­la­tion Her­mes Tris­megis­tus, Ter­tul­lian refers as the mas­ter of those who oc­cu­py them­selves with na­ture; af­ter him lat­er al­chemists called their work the “her­met­ic art,” and the seal of Her­mes, which they placed up­on their ves­sels, is the ori­gin of the com­mon phrase “her­met­ical­ly sealed.” An­oth­er leg­end, giv­en by Zosimus of Pa­nop­olis, an al­chemisti­cal writ­er said to date from the 3rd cen­tu­ry, as­serts that the fall­en an­gels taught the arts to the wom­en they mar­ried (cf. Gen­esis vi. 2), their in­struc­tion be­ing record­ed in a book called Chema. A sim­ilar sto­ry ap­pears in the Book of Enoch, and Ter­tul­lian has much to say about the wicked an­gels who re­vealed to men the knowl­edge of gold and sil­ver, of lus­trous stones, and of the pow­er of herbs, and who in­tro­duced the arts of as­trol­ogy and mag­ic up­on the earth. Again, the Ara­bic Kitab-​al-​Fihrist, writ­ten by al-​Nadim to­wards the end of the 10th cen­tu­ry, says that the “peo­ple who prac­tise alche­my, that is, who fab­ri­cate gold and sil­ver from strange met­als, state that the first to speak of the sci­ence of the work was Her­mes the Wise, who was orig­inal­ly of Baby­lon, but who es­tab­lished him­self in Egypt af­ter the dis­per­sion of the peo­ples from Ba­bel.” An­oth­er leg­end, al­so to be found in Ara­bic sources, as­serts that alche­my was re­vealed by God to Moses and Aaron. But there is some ev­idence that, in ac­cor­dance with the strong and con­stant tra­di­tion among the al­chemists, the idea of trans­mu­ta­tion did orig­inate in Egypt with the Greeks of Alexan­dria. In the Lei­den mu­se­um there are a num­ber of pa­pyri which were found in a tomb at Thebes, writ­ten prob­ably in the 3rd cen­tu­ry A.D., though their mat­ter is old­er. Some are in Greek and de­mot­ic, and one, of pe­cu­liar in­ter­est from the chem­ical point of view, gives a num­ber of re­ceipts, in Greek, for the ma­nip­ula­tion of base met­als to form al­loys which sim­ulate gold and are in­tend­ed to be used in the man­ufac­ture of im­ita­tion jew­ellery. Pos­si­bly this is one of the books about gold and sil­ver of which Dio­cle­tian de­creed the de­struc­tion about A.D. 290–an act which Gib­bon styles the first au­then­tic event in the his­to­ry of alche­my (De­cline and Fall, chap. xi­ii.). The au­thor of these re­ceipts is not un­der any delu­sion that he is trans­mut­ing met­als; the MS. is mere­ly a work­shop man­ual in which are de­scribed pro­cess­es in dai­ly use for prepar­ing met­als for false jew­ellery, but it ar­gues con­sid­er­able knowl­edge of meth­ods of mak­ing al­loys and colour­ing met­als. It has been sug­gest­ed by M. P. E. Berth­elot that the work­ers in these pro­cess­es, which were a monopoly of the priest­ly caste and were kept strict­ly se­cret, though ful­ly aware that their prod­ucts were not tru­ly gold, were in time led by their suc­cess in de­ceiv­ing the pub­lic to de­ceive them­selves al­so, and to come to be­lieve that they ac­tu­al­ly had the pow­er of mak­ing gold from sub­stances which were not gold. Philo­soph­ical sanc­tion and ex­pla­na­tion of this be­lief was then found by bring­ing it in­to re­la­tion with the the­ory of the pri­ma ma­te­ria, which was iden­ti­cal in all bod­ies but re­ceived its ac­tu­al form by the ad­junc­tion of qual­ities ex­pressed by the Aris­totelian el­ements–earth, air, fire and wa­ter. Some sup­port for this view is gained from study of the al­chemisti­cal writ­ings of the pe­ri­od. Thus, in the trea­tise known as Phys­ica et Mys­ti­ca and false­ly as­cribed to Dem­ocri­tus (such false at­tri­bu­tions are a con­stant fea­ture of the lit­er­ature of alche­my), var­ious re­ceipts are giv­en for colour­ing and gild­ing met­als, but the con­cep­tion of trans­mu­ta­tion does not oc­cur. This trea­tise was prob­ably com­posed at a date not very dif­fer­ent from that of the Lei­den pa­pyrus. Lat­er, how­ev­er, as in the Com­men­tary on this work writ­ten by Syne­sius to Dioscorus, priest of Ser­apis at Alexan­dria, which prob­ably dates from the end of the 4th cen­tu­ry, a changed at­ti­tude be­comes ap­par­ent; the more prac­ti­cal parts of the re­ceipts are ob­scured or omit­ted, and the pro­cess­es for prepar­ing al­loys and colour­ing met­als, de­scribed in the old­er trea­tise, are by a mys­ti­cal in­ter­pre­ta­tion rep­re­sent­ed as re­sult­ing in re­al trans­mu­ta­tion.

But while there are thus some grounds for sup­pos­ing that the idea of trans­mu­ta­tion grew out of the prac­ti­cal re­ceipts of Alexan­dri­an Egypt, the alche­my which em­braced it as a lead­ing prin­ci­ple was al­so strong­ly af­fect­ed by East­ern in­flu­ences such as mag­ic and as­trol­ogy. The ear­li­est Greek al­chemisti­cal writ­ings abound with ref­er­ences to Ori­en­tal au­thor­ities and tra­di­tions. Thus the pseu­do-​Dem­ocri­tus, who was re­put­ed the au­thor of the Phys­ica et Mys­ti­ca, which it­self con­cludes each of its re­ceipts with a mag­ical for­mu­la, was be­lieved to have trav­elled in Chal­daea, and to have had as his mas­ter Os­tanes1 the Mede, a name men­tioned sev­er­al times in the Lei­den pa­pyrus, and of­ten by ear­ly Chris­tian writ­ers such as Ter­tul­lian, St Cypri­an and St Au­gus­tine. The prac­tices of the Per­sian adepts al­so are ap­pealed to in the writ­ings of the pseu­do-​Dem­ocri­tus, Zosimus and Syne­sius. The philoso­pher’s egg, as a sym­bol of cre­ation, is both Egyp­tian and Baby­lo­ni­an. In the Greek al­chemists it ap­pears as the sym­bol at once of the art and of the uni­verse, en­clos­ing with­in it­self the four el­ements; and there is some­times a play of words be­tween to on and to won. The con­cep­tion of man, the mi­cro­cosm, con­tain­ing in him­self all the parts of the uni­verse or macro­cosm, is al­so Baby­lo­ni­an, as again prob­ably is the fa­mous iden­ti­fi­ca­tion of the met­als with the plan­ets. Even in the Lei­den pa­pyrus the as­tro­nom­ical sym­bols for the sun and moon are used to de­note gold and sil­ver, and in the Me­te­oro­log­ica of Olym­pi­odor­us lead is at­tribut­ed to Sat­urn, iron to Mars, cop­per to Venus, tin to Her­mes (Mer­cury) and elec­trum to Jupiter. Sim­ilar sys­tems of sym­bols, but elab­orat­ed to in­clude com­pounds, ap­pear in Greek MSS. of the 10th cen­tu­ry, pre­served in the li­brary of St Mark’s at Venice. Sub­se­quent­ly elec­trum (an al­loy of gold and sil­ver) dis­ap­peared as a spe­cif­ic met­al, and tin was as­cribed to Jupiter in­stead, the sign of mer­cury be­com­ing com­mon to the met­al and the plan­et. Thus we read in Chaucer (Cha­nouns Ye­mannes Tale):–

The bod­ies sev­ene eek, lo! hem heer anoon: Sol gold is, and Lu­na sil­ver we threpe, Mars yren, Mer­curie quik-​sil­ver we clepe, Sat­ur­nus leed and Jupiter is tin, And Venus cop­er, by my fad­er kin! Lit­er­ature of Alche­my.–A con­sid­er­able body of Greek chem­ical writ­ings is con­tained in MSS. be­long­ing to the var­ious great li­braries of Eu­rope, the old­est be­ing that at St Mark’s, just men­tioned. The con­tents of these MSS. are all of sim­ilar com­po­si­tion, and in Berth­elot’s opin­ion rep­re­sent a col­lec­tion of trea­tis­es made at Con­stantino­ple in the 8th or 9th cen­tu­ry. The trea­tis­es are near­ly all an­te­ri­or to the 7th cen­tu­ry, and most ap­pear to be­long to the 3rd and 4th cen­turies; some are the work of au­then­tic au­thors like Zosimus and Syne­sius, while of oth­ers, such as pro­fess to be writ­ten by Moses, Dem­ocri­tus, Os­tanes, &c., the au­thor­ship is clear­ly fic­ti­tious. Some of the same names and the same works can be iden­ti­fied in the lists of the Kitab-​al- Fihrist. But the Arabs did not ac­quire their knowl­edge of this lit­er­ature at first hand. The ear­li­est Hel­lenic cul­ture in the East was Syr­ian, and the Arabs made their first ac­quain­tance with Greek chem­istry, as with Greek phi­los­ophy, math­emat­ics, medicine, &c., by the in­ter­me­di­ary of Syr­iac trans­la­tions. (See ARA­BI­AN PHI­LOS­OPHY and SYR­IAC LIT­ER­ATURE.) Ex­am­ples of such trans­la­tions are pre­served in MSS. at the British Mu­se­um, part­ly writ­ten in Syr­iac, part­ly in Ara­bic with Syr­iac char­ac­ters. In Berth­elot’s opin­ion, the Syr­iac por­tions rep­re­sent a com­pi­la­tion of re­ceipts and pro­cess­es un­der­tak­en in the Syr­ian school of medicine at Bag­dad un­der the Ab­basids in the 9th or 10th cen­tu­ry, and to a large ex­tent con­sti­tut­ed by the ear­li­er trans­la­tions made by Sergius of Re­sae­na in the 6th cen­tu­ry. They con­tain, un­der the ti­tle Doc­trine of Dem­ocri­tus, a fair­ly me­thod­ical trea­tise in ten books com­pris­ing the Ar­gy­ropoeia and Chrysopoeia of the pseu­do-​Dem­ocri­tus, with many re­ceipts for colour­ing met­als, mak­ing ar­ti­fi­cial pre­cious stones, ef­fect­ing the diplo­sis or dou­bling of met­als, &c. They give il­lus­tra­tions of the ap­pa­ra­tus em­ployed, and their close re­la­tion­ship to the Greek is at­test­ed by the fre­quent oc­cur­rence of Greek words and the fact that the signs and sym­bols of the Greek al­chemists ap­pear al­most un­changed. The oth­er por­tion seems of some­what lat­er date. An­oth­er Syr­iac MS., in the li­brary of Cam­bridge Uni­ver­si­ty, con­tains a trans­la­tion of a work by Zosimus which is so far un­known in the orig­inal Greek. Berth­elot gives re­pro­duc­tions of the British Mu­se­um MSS. in vol. ii. of La Chimie au moyen

Sev­er­al al­chemisti­cal trea­tis­es, writ­ten in Ara­bic, ex­ist in manuscript in the Na­tion­al Li­brary at Paris and in the li­brary of the uni­ver­si­ty of Lei­den, and have been re­pro­duced by Berth­elot, with trans­la­tions, in vol. iii. of La Chimie au moyen age. They fall in­to two groups: those in one are large­ly com­posed of com­pi­la­tions from Greek sources, while those in the oth­er have rather the char­ac­ter of orig­inal com­po­si­tions. Of the first group the most in­ter­est­ing and pos­si­bly the old­est is the Book of Crates; it is re­mark­able for con­tain­ing some of the signs used for the met­als by the Greek al­chemists, and for giv­ing fig­ures of four pieces of ap­pa­ra­tus which close­ly re­sem­ble those de­pict­ed in Greek MSS., the for­mer be­ing nev­er, and the lat­ter rarely, found in oth­er Ara­bic MSS. Its con­clud­ing words sug­gest that its pro­duc­tion was due to Khalid ben Yezid (died in 708), who was a pupil of the Syr­ian monk Mar­ianus, and ac­cord­ing to the Kitab-​al-​Fihrist was the first Mus­sul­man writ­er on alche­my. The sec­ond group con­sists of a num­ber of trea­tis­es pro­fess­ing to be writ­ten by Jaber, cel­ebrat­ed in Latin alche­my as Geber (q.v..) In­ter­nal ev­idence sug­gests that they are not all from the same hand or of the same date, but prob­ably they are not ear­li­er than the 9th nor lat­er than the 12th cen­tu­ry. The Ara­bic chron­iclers record the names of many oth­er writ­ers on alche­my, among the most fa­mous be­ing Rhazes and Avi­cen­na.

But the fur­ther de­vel­op­ment of alche­my took place in the West rather than in the East. With the spread of their em­pire to Spain the Arabs took with them their knowl­edge of Greek medicine and sci­ence, in­clud­ing alche­my, and thence it passed, strength­ened by the in­fu­sion of a cer­tain Jew­ish el­ement, to the na­tions of west­ern Eu­rope, through the medi­um of Latin trans­la­tions. The mak­ing of these be­gan about the 11th cen­tu­ry, one of the ear­li­est of the trans­la­tors, Con­stanti­nus Africanus, wrote about 1075, and an­oth­er, Ger­ard of Cre­mona, lived from 1114 to 1187. The Liber de com­po­si­tione al­chemi­ae, which pro­fess­es to be by Morienus–per­haps the same as the Mar­ianus who was the teach­er of Khalid–was trans­lat­ed by Rober­tus Cas­tren­sis, who states that he fin­ished the work in 1182, and speaks as if he were mak­ing a rev­ela­tion–“Quid sit al­chemia non­dum cog­novit ves­tra La­tini­tas.” The ear­li­er trans­la­tions, such as the Tur­ba Philosopho­rum and oth­er Works print­ed in col­lec­tions like the Ar­tis au­rifer­ae quam chemi­am vo­cant (1572), The­atrum chemicum (1602), and J. J. Manget’s Bib­lio­the­ca chem­ica cu­riosa (1702), are con­fused pro­duc­tions, writ­ten in an al­le­gor­ical style, but full of phras­es and even pages tak­en lit­er­al­ly from the Greek al­chemists, and cit­ing by name var­ious au­thor­ities of Greek alche­my. They were fol­lowed by trea­tis­es of a dif­fer­ent char­ac­ter, clear­er in mat­ter, more sys­tem­at­ic in ar­range­ment, and re­flect­ing the meth­ods of the scholas­tic log­ic; these are far­ther from the Greek tra­di­tion, for al­though they con­tain suf­fi­cient traces of their ul­ti­mate Greek an­ces­try, their au­thors do not know the Greeks as mas­ters and cite no Greek names. So far as they are Latin ver­sions of Ara­bi­co-​Greek trea­tis­es, they must have been much re­mod­elled in the course of trans­la­tion; but there is rea­son to sup­pose that many of them, even when pre­tend­ing to be trans­la­tions, are re­al­ly orig­inal com­po­si­tions. It is cu­ri­ous that al­though we pos­sess a cer­tain num­ber of works on alche­my writ­ten in Ara­bic, and al­so many Latin trea­tis­es that pro­fess to be trans­lat­ed from Ara­bic, yet in no case is the ex­is­tence known of both the Ara­bic and the Latin ver­sion. The Ara­bic works of Jaber, as con­tained in MSS. at Paris and Lei­den, are quite Ais­simi­iar from the Latin works at­tribut­ed to Geber, and show few if any traces of the pos­itive chem­ical knowl­edge, as of ni­tric acid (aqua dis­so­lu­ti­va or for­tis) or of the mix­ture of ni­tric and hy­drochlo­ric acids known as aqua reg­is or re­gia, that ap­pears in the lat­ter. The trea­tis­es at­tribut­ed to Geber, in fact, ap­pear to be orig­inal works com­posed not ear­li­er than the 13th cen­tu­ry and fa­thered on Jaber in or­der to en­hance their au­thor­ity. If this view be ac­cept­ed, an en­tire­ly new light is thrown on the achieve­ments of the Arabs in the his­to­ry of chem­istry. Gib­bon as­serts that the Greeks were inat­ten­tive ei­ther to the use or to the abuse of chem­istry (De­cline and Fall, chap. xi­ii.), and gives the Arabs the cred­it of the ori­gin and im­prove­ment of the sci­ence (chap. lii.).2 But the chem­ical knowl­edge at­tribut­ed to the Arabs has been so at­tribut­ed large­ly on the ba­sis of the con­tents of the Latin Geber, re­gard­ed as a trans­la­tion from the Ara­bic Jaber. If, then, those con­tents do not rep­re­sent the knowl­edge of Jaber, and if the con­tents of oth­er Latin trans­la­tions which there is rea­son to be­lieve are re­al­ly made from the Ara­bic, show lit­tle, if any, ad­vance on the knowl­edge of the Alexan­dri­an Greeks, ev­ident­ly the part played by the Arabs must be less, and that of the West­erns greater, than Gib­bon is pre­pared to ad­mit.

The de­scent of al­chemisti­cal doc­trine can thus be traced with fair con­ti­nu­ity for a thou­sand years, from the Greeks of Alexan­dria down to the time when Latin alche­my was firm­ly es­tab­lished in the West, and be­gan to be writ­ten of by his­tor­ical au­thors like Al­ber­tus Mag­nus, Roger Ba­con and Arnoldus Vil­lanovanus in the 13th cen­tu­ry. But side by side with this lit­er­ary trans­mis­sion Berth­elot in­sists that there was an­oth­er mode of trans­mis­sion, by means of the knowl­edge of prac­ti­cal re­ceipts and pro­cess­es tra­di­tion­al among jew­ellers, painters, work­ers in glass and pot­tery, and oth­er hand­icrafts­men. The chem­ical knowl­edge of Egyp­tian met­al­lur­gists and jew­ellers, he holds, was ear­ly trans­mit­ted to the ar­ti­sans of Rome, and was pre­served through­out the dark ages in the work­shops of Italy and France un­til about the 13th cen­tu­ry, when it was min­gled with the the­ories of the Greek al­chemists which reached the West by way of the Arabs. Re­ceipts giv­en in the Lei­den pa­pyrus reap­pear in the Com­po­si­tiones ad Tin­gen­da and the Map­pae Clav­ic­ula, both work­shop re­ceipt books, one known in an 8th-​cen­tu­ry MS. at Luc­ca, and the oth­er in a 10th-​cen­tu­ry MS. in the li­brary of Schlettstadt; and again in such works as the De Art­ibus Ro­mano­rum of Er­aclius and the Schedu­la Di­ver­sarum Ar­tium of Theophilus, be­long­ing to the 11th or 12th cen­tu­ry.

The­ory of Trans­mu­ta­tion.–The fun­da­men­tal the­ory of the trans­mu­ta­tion of met­als is to be found in the Greek al­chemists, al­though in de­tails it was mod­ified and elab­orat­ed by the Arabs and the Latin al­chemists. Re­gard­ing all sub­stances as be­ing com­posed of one prim­itive mat­ter–the pri­ma ma­te­ria, and as ow­ing their spe­cif­ic dif­fer­ences to the pres­ence of dif­fer­ent qual­ities im­posed up­on it, the al­chemist hoped, by tak­ing away these qual­ities, to ob­tain the pri­ma ma­te­ria it­self, and then to get from it the par­tic­ular sub­stance he de­sired by the ad­di­tion of the ap­pro­pri­ate qual­ities. The pri­ma ma­te­ria was ear­ly iden­ti­fied with mer­cury, not or­di­nary mer­cury, but the “mer­cury of the philoso­phers,” which was the essence or soul of mer­cury, freed from the four Aris­totelian el­ements–earth, air, fire and wa­ter–or rather from the qual­ities which they rep­re­sent. Thus the op­er­ator had to re­move from or­di­nary mer­cury, earth or an earthy prin­ci­ple or qual­ity, and wa­ter or a liq­uid prin­ci­ple, and to fix it by tak­ing away air or a volatile prin­ci­ple. The pri­ma ma­te­ria thus ob­tained had to be treat­ed with sul­phur (or with sul­phur and ar­senic) to con­fer up­on it the de­sired qual­ities that were miss­ing. This sul­phur again was not or­di­nary sul­phur, but some prin­ci­ple de­rived from it, which con­sti­tut­ed the philoso­pher’s stone or elixir–white for sil­ver and yel­low or red for gold. This is briefly the doc­trine that the met­als are com­posed of mer­cury and sul­phur, which per­sist­ed in one form or an­oth­er down to the 17th cen­tu­ry. Of course there were nu­mer­ous vari­ations and re­fine­ments. Thus in the Specu­lum Nat­urale of Vin­cent of Beau­vais (c. 1250) it is said that there are four spir­its–mer­cury, sul­phur, ar­senic and sal am­mo­ni­ac– and six bod­ies–gold, sil­ver, cop­per, tin, lead and iron.3 Of these bod­ies the two first are pure, the four last im­pure. Pure white mer­cury, fixed by the virtue of white non-​cor­ro­sive sul­phur, en­gen­ders in mines a mat­ter which fu­sion changes in­to sil­ver, and unit­ed to pure clear red sul­phur it forms gold, while with var­ious kinds of im­pure mer­cury and sul­phur the oth­er bod­ies are pro­duced. Vin­cent at­tributes to Rhazes the state­ment that cop­per is po­ten­tial­ly sil­ver, and any one who can elim­inate the red colour will bring it to the state of sil­ver, for it is cop­per in out­ward ap­pear­ance, but in its in­most na­ture sil­ver. This state­ment rep­re­sents a doc­trine wide­ly held in the 13th cen­tu­ry, and al­so to be found in the Greek al­chemists, that ev­ery­thing en­dowed with a par­tic­ular ap­par­ent qual­ity pos­sess­es a hid­den op­po­site qual­ity, which can be ren­dered ap­par­ent by fire. Lat­er, as in the works at­tribut­ed to Basil Valen­tine, sul­phur, mer­cury and salt are held to be the con­stituents of the met­als.

It must be not­ed that the pro­cess­es de­scribed by the al­chemists of the 13th cen­tu­ry are not put for­ward as be­ing mirac­ulous or su­per­nat­ural; they rather rep­re­sent the meth­ods em­ployed by na­ture, which it is the end of the al­chemist’s art to re­pro­duce ar­ti­fi­cial­ly in the lab­ora­to­ry. But even among the late Ara­bi­an al­chemists it was doubt­ed whether the re­sources of the art were ad­equate to the task; and in the West, Vin­cent of Beau­vais re­marks that suc­cess had not been achieved in mak­ing ar­ti­fi­cial met­als iden­ti­cal with the nat­ural ones. Thus he says that the sil­ver which has been changed in­to gold by the pro­jec­tion of the red elixir is not ren­dered re­sis­tant to the agents which af­fect sil­ver but not gold, and Al­ber­tus Mag­nus in his De Min­er­al­ibus –the De Al­chemia at­tribut­ed to him is spu­ri­ous–states that alche­my can­not change species but mere­ly im­itates them–for in­stance, colours a met­al white to make it re­sem­ble sil­ver or yel­low to give it the ap­pear­ance of gold. He has, he adds, test­ed gold made by al­chemists, and found that it will not with­stand six or sev­en ex­po­sures to fire. But scep­ti­cism of this kind was not uni­ver­sal. Roger Ba­con–or more prob­ably some one who usurped his name–de­clared that with a cer­tain amount of the philoso­pher’s stone he could trans­mute a mil­lion times as much base met­al in­to gold, and on Rai­mon Lull was fa­thered the boast, “Mare tin­gerem si mer­curius es­set.” Nu­mer­ous less dis­tin­guished adepts al­so prac­tised the art, and some­times were so suc­cess­ful in their de­cep­tions that they gained the ear of kings, whose de­sire to prof­it by the achieve­ments of sci­ence was in sev­er­al in­stances re­ward­ed by an abun­dant crop of coun­ter­feit coins.

Lat­er His­to­ry of Alche­my.–In the ear­li­er part of the 16th cen­tu­ry Paracel­sus gave a new di­rec­tion to alche­my by declar­ing that its true ob­ject was not the mak­ing of gold but the prepa­ra­tion of medicines, and this union of chem­istry with medicine was one char­ac­ter­is­tic of the ia­tro­chem­ical school of which he was the pre­cur­sor. In­creas­ing at­ten­tion was paid to the in­ves­ti­ga­tion of the prop­er­ties of sub­stances and of their ef­fects on the hu­man body, and chem­istry prof­it­ed by the fact that it passed in­to the hands of men who pos­sessed the high­est sci­en­tif­ic cul­ture of the time, Still, be­lief in the pos­si­bil­ity of trans­mu­ta­tion long re­mained or­tho­dox, even among the most dis­tin­guished men of sci­ence. Thus it was ac­cept­ed, at least aca­dem­ical­ly, by An­dreas Libav­ius (d. 1616); by F. de la Boe Sylvius (1614-1672), though not by his pupil Ot­to Tache­nius, and by J. R. Glauber (1603-1668); by Robert Boyle (1627-1691) and, for a time at least, by Sir Isaac New­ton and his ri­val and con­tem­po­rary, G. W. Leib­nitz (1646-1716); and by G. E. Stahl (1660-1734) and Her­mann Boer­haave (1668-1738). Though an al­chemist, Boyle, in his Scep­ti­cal Chemist (1661), cast doubts on the “ex­per­iments where­by vul­gar Spagyrists are wont to en­deav­our to evince their salt, sul­phur and mer­cury to be the true prin­ci­ples of things,” and ad­vanced to­wards the con­cep­tion of chem­ical el­ements as those con­stituents of mat­ter which can­not be fur­ther de­com­posed. With J. J. Bech­er (1635-1682) and G. E. Stahl, how­ev­er, there was a re­ver­sion to ear­li­er ideas. The for­mer sub­sti­tut­ed for the salt, sul­phur and mer­cury of Basil Valen­tine and Paracel­sus three earths–the mer­cu­ri­al, the vit­re­ous and the com­bustible–and he ex­plained com­bus­tion as de­pend­ing on the es­cape of this last com­bustible el­ement; while Stahl’s con­cep­tion of phlo­gis­ton–not fire it­self, but the prin­ci­ple of fire–by virtue of which com­bustible bod­ies burned, was a near rel­ative of the mer­cury of the philoso­phers, the soul or essence of or­di­nary mer­cury.

Per­haps J. B. van Hel­mont (1577-1644) was the last dis­tin­guished in­ves­ti­ga­tor who pro­fessed ac­tu­al­ly to have changed mer­cury in­to gold, though im­pos­tors and mys­tics of var­ious kinds con­tin­ued to claim knowl­edge of the art long af­ter his time. So late as 1782, James Price, an En­glish physi­cian, showed ex­per­iments with white and red pow­ders, by the aid of which he was sup­posed to be able to trans­form fifty and six­ty times as much mer­cury in­to sil­ver and gold. The met­als he pro­duced are said to have proved gen­uine on as­say; when, how­ev­er, in the fol­low­ing year he was chal­lenged to re­peat the ex­per­iments he was un­able to do so and com­mit­ted sui­cide. In the course of the 19th cen­tu­ry the idea that the dif­fer­ent el­ements are con­sti­tut­ed by dif­fer­ent group­ings or con­den­sa­tions of one pri­mal mat­ter–a spec­ula­tion which, if proved to be well ground­ed, would im­ply the pos­si­bil­ity of chang­ing one el­ement in­to an­oth­er–found favour with more than one re­spon­si­ble chemist; but ex­per­imen­tal re­search failed to yield any ev­idence that was gen­er­al­ly re­gard­ed as of­fer­ing any sup­port to this hy­poth­esis. About the be­gin­ning of the 20th cen­tu­ry, how­ev­er, the view was pro­mul­gat­ed that the spon­ta­neous pro­duc­tion of he­li­um from ra­di­um may be an in­stance of the trans­for­ma­tion of one el­ement in­to an­oth­er. (See RA­DIOAC­TIV­ITY; al­so EL­EMENT and MAT­TER.)

See M. P. E. Berth­elot, Les Orig­ines de l’alchimie (1885); Col­lec­tion des an­ciens alchimistes grecs (text and trans­la­tion, 3 vols., 1887-1888); In­tro­duc­tion a l’etude de la chimie des an­ciens et du moyen age (1889): La Chimie au moyen age (text and trans­la­tion of Syr­iac and Ara­bic trea­tis­es on alche­my, 3 vols., 1893). Much bib­li­ograph­ical and oth­er in­for­ma­tion about the lat­er writ­ers on alche­my is con­tained in Bib­lio­the­ca Chem­ica (2 vols., Glas­gow, 1906), a cat­alogue by John Fer­gu­son of the books in the col­lec­tion of James Young of Kel­ly (print­ed for pri­vate dis­tri­bu­tion). (H. M. R.)

1 An al­chemisti­cal work bear­ing the name of Os­tanes speaks of a di­vine wa­ter which cures all mal­adies–an ear­ly ap­pear­ance of the uni­ver­sal panacea or elixir of life.

2 “Some tra­di­tionary knowl­edge might be se­cret­ed in the tem­ples and monas­ter­ies of Egypt: much use­ful ex­pe­ri­ence might have been ac­quired in the prac­tice of arts and man­ufac­tures, but the sci­ence of chem­istry owes its ori­gin and im­prove­ment to the in­dus­try of the Sara­cens. They first in­vent­ed and named the alem­bic for the pur­pos­es of dis­til­la­tion, an­alyzed the sub­stances of the three king­doms of na­ture, tried the dis­tinc­tion and affini­ties of al­ka­lis and acids, and con­vert­ed the poi­sonous min­er­als in­to soft and salu­tary reme­dies. But the most ea­ger search of Ara­bi­an chem­istry was the trans­mu­ta­tion of met­als, and the elixir of im­mor­tal health: the rea­son and the for­tunes of thou­sands were evap­orat­ed in the cru­cibles of alche­my, and the con­sum­ma­tion of the great work was pro­mot­ed by the wor­thy aid of mys­tery, fa­ble and su­per­sti­tion.” It may be not­ed that the word “alem­bic” is de­rived from the Greek am­bix, “cup,” with the Ara­bic ar­ti­cle pre­fixed, and that the in­stru­ment is fig­ured in the MSS. of some of the Greek al­chemists.

3 Cf. Chaucer, Cha­nouns Ye­mannes Tale, where, how­ev­er, mer­cury fig­ures both as a spir­it and a body:–

“The firste spir­it quik-​sil­ver called is, The sec­ond or­pi­ment, the thrid­de ywis Sal ar­mo­ni­ak, and the fer­the brim­stoon.” AL­CIATI, AN­DREA (1492-1550), Ital­ian ju­rist, was born at Alzano, near Mi­lan, on the 12th of Jan­uary 1492. He dis­played great lit­er­ary skill in his ex­po­si­tion of the laws, and was one of the first to in­ter­pret the civ­il law by the his­to­ry, lan­guages and lit­er­ature of an­tiq­ui­ty, and to sub­sti­tute orig­inal re­search for the servile in­ter­pre­ta­tions of the glos­sators. He pub­lished many le­gal works, and some an­no­ta­tions on Tac­itus. His Em­blems, a col­lec­tion of moral say­ings in Latin verse, has been great­ly ad­mired, and trans­lat­ed in­to French, Ital­ian and Span­ish. Al­ciati’s his­to­ry of Mi­lan, un­der the ti­tle Re­rum Po­tri­ae, seu His­to­ri­ae Medi­ola­nen­sis, Lib­ri IV., was pub­lished posthu­mous­ly at Mi­lan in 1625. He died at Pavia in 1550.

AL­CIB­IADES (c. 450-404 B.C.), Athe­ni­an gen­er­al and politi­cian, was born at Athens. He was the son of Cleinias and Deino­mache, who be­longed to the fam­ily of the Al­cmaeonidae. He was a near rel­ative of Per­icles, who, af­ter the death of Cleinias at the bat­tle of Coro­neia (447), be­came his guardian. Thus ear­ly de­prived of his fa­ther’s con­trol, pos­sessed of great per­son­al beau­ty and the heir to great wealth, which was in­creased by his mar­riage, he showed him­self self-​willed, capri­cious and pas­sion­ate, and in­dulged in the wildest freaks and most in­so­lent be­haviour. Nor did the in­struc­tors of his ear­ly man­hood sup­ply the cor­rec­tive which his boy­hood lacked. From Pro­tago­ras, Prod­icus and oth­ers he learnt to laugh at the com­mon ideas of jus­tice, tem­per­ance, ho­li­ness and pa­tri­otism. The la­bo­ri­ous thought, the as­cetic life of his mas­ter Socrates, he was able to ad­mire, but not to im­itate or prac­tise. On the con­trary, his os­ten­ta­tious van­ity, his amours, his de­baucheries and his im­pi­ous rev­els be­came no­to­ri­ous. But great as were his vices, his abil­ities were even greater.

He took part in the bat­tle of Poti­daea (432), where his life was saved by Socrates, a ser­vice which he re­paid at the bat­tle of Deli­um (424). As the re­ward of his brav­ery, the wealthy Hip­pon­icus be­stowed up­on him the hand of his daugh­ter. From this time he took a promi­nent part in Athe­ni­an pol­itics dur­ing the Pelo­pon­nesian war. Orig­inal­ly friend­ly to Spar­ta, he sub­se­quent­ly be­came the lead­er of the war par­ty in op­po­si­tion to Nicias, and af­ter the peace of 421 he suc­ceed­ed by an un­scrupu­lous trick in dup­ing the Spar­tan am­bas­sadors, and per­suad­ing the Athe­ni­ans to con­clude an al­liance (420) with Ar­gos, Elis and Man­tineia (Thuc. v. 56, 76). On the fail­ure of Nicias in Thrace (418-417) he be­came the chief ad­vo­cate of the Si­cil­ian ex­pe­di­tion, see­ing an op­por­tu­ni­ty for the re­al­iza­tion of his am­bi­tious projects, which in­clud­ed the con­quest of Sici­ly, to be fol­lowed by that of Pelo­pon­nesus and pos­si­bly of Carthage (though this seems to have been an af­terthought). The ex­pe­di­tion was de­cid­ed up­on with great en­thu­si­asm, and Al­cib­iades, Nicias and Lamachus were ap­point­ed joint com­man­ders. But, on the day be­fore the ex­pe­di­tion sailed, there oc­curred the mys­te­ri­ous mu­ti­la­tion of the Her­mae, and Al­cib­iades was ac­cused not on­ly of be­ing the orig­ina­tor of the crime, but al­so of hav­ing pro­faned the Eleusini­an mys­ter­ies. His re­quest for an im­me­di­ate in­ves­ti­ga­tion be­ing re­fused, he was obliged to set sail with the charge still hang­ing over him. Al­most as soon as he reached Sici­ly he was re­called to stand his tri­al, but he es­caped on the jour­ney home and made his way to Spar­ta. Learn­ing that he had been con­demned to death in his ab­sence and his prop­er­ty con­fis­cat­ed, he open­ly joined the Spar­tans, and per­suad­ed them to send Gylip­pus to as­sist the Syra­cu­sans and to for­ti­fy De­ce­lea in At­ti­ca. He then passed over to Asia Mi­nor, pre­vailed up­on many of the Ion­ic al­lies of Athens to re­volt, and con­clud­ed an al­liance with the Per­sian satrap Tis­sa­phernes. But in a few months he had lost the con­fi­dence of the Spar­tans, and at the in­sti­ga­tion of Agis II., whose per­son­al hos­til­ity he had ex­cit­ed, an or­der was sent for his ex­ecu­tion. Re­ceiv­ing time­ly in­for­ma­tion of this or­der he crossed over to Tis­sa­phernes (412), and per­suad­ed him to adopt the neg­ative pol­icy of leav­ing Athens and Spar­ta to wear them­selves out by their mu­tu­al strug­gles. Al­cib­iades was now bent on re­turn­ing to Athens, and he used his sup­posed in­flu­ence with Tis­sa­phernes to ef­fect his pur­pose. He en­tered in­to ne­go­ti­ations with the oli­garch Peisander, but when these led to no re­sult he at­tached him­self to the fleet at Samos which re­mained loy­al to the democ­ra­cy, and was sub­se­quent­ly re­called by Thrasy­bu­lus, al­though he did not at once re­turn to Athens. Be­ing ap­point­ed com­man­der in the neigh­bour­hood of the Helle­spont, he de­feat­ed the Spar­tan fleet at Aby­dos (411) and Cyz­icus (410), and re­cov­ered Chal­cedon and Byzan­tium. On his re­turn to Athens af­ter these suc­cess­es he was wel­comed with un­ex­pect­ed en­thu­si­asm (407); all the pro­ceed­ings against him were can­celled, and he was ap­point­ed gen­er­al with full pow­ers. His ill suc­cess, how­ev­er, at An­dros, and the de­feat at Notium (407) of his lieu­tenant An­ti­ochus, led the Athe­ni­ans to dis­miss him from his com­mand. He there­upon re­tired to the Thra­cian Cher­son­esus. Af­ter the bat­tle of Aegospota­mi, and the fi­nal de­feat of Athens, he crossed the Helle­spont and took refuge with Pharn­abazus in Phry­gia, with the ob­ject of se­cur­ing the aid of Ar­tax­erx­es against Spar­ta. But the Spar­tans in­duced Pharn­abazus to put him out of the way; as he was about to set out for the Per­sian court his res­idence was set on fire, and on rush­ing out on his as­sas­sins, dag­ger in hand, he was killed by a show­er of ar­rows (404). There can be no doubt that his ad­vice to Spar­ta in con­nex­ion with Syra­cuse and the for­ti­fi­ca­tion of De­ce­lea was the re­al cause of his coun­try’s down­fall, though it is on­ly fair to him to add that had he been al­lowed to con­tin­ue in com­mand of the Si­cil­ian ex­pe­di­tion he would un­doubt­ed­ly have over­ruled the fa­tal pol­icy of Nicias and pre­vent­ed the catas­tro­phe of 413. His be­lat­ed at­tempt to re­pair his fa­tal treach­ery on­ly ex­posed the es­sen­tial self­ish­ness of his char­ac­ter. Though he must have known that his in­flu­ence over the Per­sian satraps was slen­der in the ex­treme, he used it with the most fla­grant dis­hon­esty as a bait first to Spar­ta, then to the Athe­ni­an oli­garchs, and fi­nal­ly to the democ­ra­cy. Su­per­fi­cial and op­por­tunist to the last, he owed the suc­cess­es of his me­te­oric ca­reer pure­ly to per­son­al mag­netism and an al­most in­cred­ible ca­pac­ity for de­cep­tion.

There are lives of Al­cib­iades by Plutarch and Cor­nelius Nepos, and mono­graphs by Hertzberg, A. der Staats­mann und Feld­herr (1833), and Hous­saye, His­toire d’Al­cib­iade (1873); but the best ac­counts will be found in the his­to­ries of Greece by G. Grote (al­so notes in abridged ed., 1907), Ed. Mey­er, and works quot­ed un­der GREECE, An­cient His­to­ry, sect. “Au­thor­ities”; al­so PELO­PON­NESIAN WAR.

AL­CI­DAMAS, of Elaea, in Ae­olis, Greek sophist and rhetori­cian, flour­ished in the 4th cen­tu­ry B.C. He was the pupil and suc­ces­sor of Gor­gias and taught at Athens at the same time as Isocrates, whose ri­val and op­po­nent he was. We pos­sess two decla­ma­tions un­der his name: Peri Sofis­ton, di­rect­ed against Isocrates and set­ting forth the su­pe­ri­or­ity of ex­tem­pore over writ­ten speech­es (a re­cent­ly dis­cov­ered frag­ment of an­oth­er speech against Isocrates is prob­ably of lat­er date); ‘Odusseus, in which Odysseus ac­cus­es Palamedes of treach­ery dur­ing the siege of Troy (this is gen­er­al­ly con­sid­ered spu­ri­ous). Ac­cord­ing to Al­ci­damas, the high­est aim of the or­ator was the pow­er of speak­ing ex­tem­pore on ev­ery con­ceiv­able sub­ject. Aris­to­tle (Rhet. iii. 3) crit­icizes his writ­ings as char­ac­ter­ized by pom­pos­ity of style and an ex­trav­agant use of po­et­ical ep­ithets and com­pounds and far-​fetched metaphors. Of oth­er works on­ly frag­ments and the ti­tles have sur­vived: Messe­ni­akos, ad­vo­cat­ing the free­dom of the Messe­ni­ans and con­tain­ing the sen­ti­ment that “all are by na­ture free”; a Eu­lo­gy of Death, in con­sid­er­ation of the wide ex­tent of hu­man suf­fer­ings; a Techne or in­struc­tion-​book in the art of rhetoric; and a Fusikos lo­los. Last­ly, his Mou­seion (a word of doubt­ful mean­ing) con­tained the nar­ra­tive of the con­test be­tween Homer and Hes­iod, two frag­ments of which are found in the ‘Agon `Omer­ou kai `Es­iodou, the work of a gram­mar­ian in the time of Hadri­an. A 3rd-​cen­tu­ry pa­pyrus (Flinders Petrie, Pa­pyri, ed. Ma­haffy, 1891, pl. xxv.) prob­ably con­tains the ac­tu­al re­mains of a de­scrip­tion by Al­ci­damas.

See the edi­tion by Blass, 1881; frag­ments in Muller, Or­atores At­ti­ci, ii. (1858); Vahlen, Der Rhetor Alki­damas (1864); Blass, Die at­tis­che Bered­samkeit.

AL­CI­NOUS (ALKI­NOOS), in an­cient Greek leg­end, king of the fab­ulous Phaea­cians, in the is­land of Scheria, was the son of Nausit­hous and grand­son of Po­sei­don. His re­cep­tion and en­ter­tain­ment of Odysseus, who when cast by a storm on the shore of the is­land was re­lieved by the king’s daugh­ter, Nau­si­caa, is de­scribed in the Odyssey (vi.-xi­ii.). The gar­dens and palace of Al­ci­nous and the won­der­ful ships of the Phaea­cian mariners were fa­mous in an­tiq­ui­ty. Scheria was iden­ti­fied in very ear­ly times with Cor­cyra, where Al­ci­nous was rev­er­enced as a hero; In the Arg­onau­tic leg­end, his abode was the is­land of Drepane (Apoll. Rhodius iv. 990).

AL­CI­NOUS, the Pla­ton­ic philoso­pher, lived prob­ably in the time of the Cae­sars. He was the au­thor of an ‘Epit­ome ton Platonos dog­ma­ton, an anal­ysis of Pla­to’s phi­los­ophy ac­cord­ing to lat­er writ­ers. It is rather in the man­ner of Aris­to­tle, and freely at­tributes to Pla­to any ideas of oth­er philoso­phers which ap­peared to con­tribute to the sys­tem. He pro­duced in the end a syn­the­sis of Pla­to and Aris­to­tle with an ad­mix­ture of Pythagore­an or Ori­en­tal mys­ti­cism, and is close­ly al­lied to the Alexan­dri­an school of thought. He rec­og­nized a God who is un­know­able, and a se­ries of be­ings (dai­mones) who hold in­ter­course with men. He rec­og­nized al­so Ideas and Mat­ter, and bor­rowed large­ly from Aris­to­tle and the Sto­ics.

The ‘Epit­ome has been trans­lat­ed by Pierre Bal­bi (Rome, 1469) and by Mar­silio Fi­ci­no; in­to French by J. I. Combes-​Dounous (Paris, 1800), and in­to En­glish by Thomas Stan­ley in his His­to­ry of Phi­los­ophy. Edi­tions: Hein­sius (Lei­den, 1630); Fis­ch­er (Leipzig, 1783); in Al­dine Edi­tion of Apuleius (Venice, 1521; Paris, 1532); Fell (Ox­ford, 1667). See Rit­ter, Geschichte der Philoso­phie, iv. 249.

AL­CIO­NIO, PIETRO, or PETRUS AL­CY­ONIUS (c. 1487-1527), Ital­ian clas­si­cal schol­ar, was born at Venice. Af­ter hav­ing stud­ied Greek un­der Mar­cus Musu­rus of Can­dia, he was em­ployed for some time by Al­dus Manu­tius as a cor­rec­tor of the press, and in 1522 was ap­point­ed pro­fes­sor of Greek at Flo­rence through the in­flu­ence of Giulio de’ Medi­ci. When his pa­tron be­came pope in 1523 un­der the ti­tle of Clement VII., Al­cio­nio fol­lowed him to Rome and re­mained there un­til his death. Al­cio­nio pub­lished at Venice, in 1521, a Latin trans­la­tion of sev­er­al of the works of Aris­to­tle, which was shown by the Span­ish schol­ar Sepul­ve­da to be very in­cor­rect. He wrote a di­alogue en­ti­tled Medices Lega­tus, sive de Ex­ilio (1522), in con­nex­ion with which he was charged with pla­gia­rism by his per­son­al en­emy, Paulus Manu­tius. The ac­cu­sa­tion, which Tira­boschi has shown to be ground­less, was that he had tak­en the finest pas­sages in the work from Ci­cero’s lost trea­tise De Glo­ria, and had then de­stroyed the on­ly ex­ist­ing copy of the orig­inal in or­der to es­cape de­tec­tion. His con­tem­po­raries speak very un­favourably of Al­cio­nio, and ac­cuse him of haugh­ti­ness, un­couth man­ners, van­ity and li­cen­tious­ness.

AL­CI­PHRON, Greek rhetori­cian, was prob­ably a con­tem­po­rary of Lu­cian (2nd cen­tu­ry A.D..) He was the au­thor of a col­lec­tion of fic­ti­tious let­ters, of which 124 (118 com­plete and 6 frag­ments) have been pub­lished; they are writ­ten in the purest At­tic di­alect and are con­sid­ered mod­els of style. The scene is through­out at Athens; the imag­inary writ­ers are coun­try peo­ple, fish­er­men, par­asites and cour­te­sans, who ex­press their sen­ti­ments and opin­ions on fa­mil­iar sub­jects in el­egant lan­guage. The “cour­te­san” let­ters are es­pe­cial­ly valu­able, the in­for­ma­tion con­tained in them be­ing chiefly de­rived from the writ­ers of the New Com­edy, es­pe­cial­ly Menan­der.

EDI­TIONS.–Edi­tio prin­ceps (44 let­ters), 1499; Bergler (1715); Seil­er (1856); Hercher (1873); Schep­ers (1905). En­glish trans­la­tion by Mon­ro and Be­loe (1791).

AL­CI­RA, a town of east­ern Spain, in the province of Va­len­cia; on the left bank of the riv­er Ju­car, and on the Va­len­cia- Al­icante rail­way. Pop. (1900) 20,572. Al­ci­ra is a walled town, sur­round­ed by palm, or­ange and mul­ber­ry groves, and by low-​ly­ing rice-​swamps, which ren­der its neigh­bour­hood some­what un­healthy. Silk, fruit and rice are its chief prod­ucts. It is some­times iden­ti­fied w;th the Ro­man Saetabic­ula. In the mid­dle ages it was a pros­per­ous Moor­ish trad­ing-​sta­tion.

AL­CMAEON, of Ar­gos, in Greek leg­end, was the son of Am­phia­raus and Eri­phyle. When his fa­ther set out with the ex­pe­di­tion of the Sev­en against Thebes, which he knew would be fa­tal to him, he en­joined up­on his sons to avenge his death by slay­ing Eri­phyle and un­der­tak­ing a sec­ond ex­pe­di­tion against Thebes. Af­ter the de­struc­tion of Thebes by the Epigo­ni, Al­cmaeon car­ried out his fa­ther’s in­junc­tions by killing his moth­er, as a pun­ish­ment for which he was driv­en mad and pur­sued by the Erinyes from place to place. On his ar­rival at Psophis in Ar­ca­dia, he was pu­ri­fied by its king Phegeus, whose daugh­ter Ar­si­noe (or Alph­esi­boea) he mar­ried, mak­ing her a present of the fa­tal neck­lace and the pe­plus of Har­mo­nia. But the land was cursed with bar­ren­ness, and the or­acle de­clared that Al­cmaeon would nev­er find rest un­til he reached a spot on which the sun had nev­er shone at the time he slew his moth­er. Such a spot he found at the mouth of the riv­er Ach­elous, where an is­land had re­cent­ly been formed by the al­lu­vial de­posit; here he set­tled and, for­get­ting his wife Ar­si­noe, mar­ried Cal­lir­rhoe, the daugh­ter of the riv­er-​god. His new wife longed for the neck­lace and pe­plus, and Al­cmaeon, re­turn­ing to Psophis, ob­tained pos­ses­sion of them, on the pre­tence that he de­sired to ded­icate them at Del­phi. When the truth be­came known he was pur­sued and slain by Phegeus and his sons. Af­ter his death Al­cmaeon was wor­shipped at Thebes; his tomb was at Psophis in a grove of cy­press­es. His sto­ry was the sub­ject of an old epic and of sev­er­al tragedies, but none of these has been pre­served.

Homer, Odyssey xv. 248; Apol­lodor­us iii. 7; Thucy­dides ii, 68, 102; Pau­sa­nias vi­ii. 24, x. 10; Ovid, Metam. ix. 400 et seq.

AL­CMAEONIDAE, a no­ble Athe­ni­an fam­ily, claim­ing de­scent from Al­cmaeon, the great-​grand­son of Nestor, who em­igrat­ed from Py­los to Athens at the time of the Do­ri­an in­va­sion of Pelo­pon­nesus. Dur­ing the ar­chon­ship of an Al­cmaeonid Mega­cles (? 632 B.C.), Cy­lon, who had un­suc­cess­ful­ly at­tempt­ed to make him­self “tyrant”’ was treach­er­ous­ly mur­dered with his fol­low­ers. The curse or pol­lu­tion thus in­curred was fre­quent­ly in lat­er years raked up for po­lit­ical rea­sons; the Spar­tans even de­mand­ed that Per­icles should be ex­pelled as ac­cursed at the be­gin­ning of the Pelo­pon­nesian war. All the mem­bers of the fam­ily went in­to ban­ish­ment, and hav­ing re­turned in the time of Solon (594) were again ex­pelled (538) by Pei­si­stra­tus (q.v..) Their great wealth en­abled them dur­ing their ex­ile to en­hance their rep­uta­tion and se­cure the favour of the Del­phi­an Apol­lo by re­build­ing the tem­ple af­ter its de­struc­tion by fire in 548. Their im­por­tance is shown by the fact that Cleis­thenes, tyrant of Sicy­on, gave his daugh­ter Agariste in mar­riage to the Al­cmaeonid Mega­cles in pref­er­ence to all the as­sem­bled suit­ors af­ter the undig­ni­fied be­haviour of Hip­poclei­des. Un­der the states­man Cleis­thenes (q.v.), the is­sue of this union, the Al­cmaeonids be­came supreme in Athens about 510 B.C. To them was gen­er­al­ly at­tribut­ed (though Herodotus dis­be­lieves the sto­ry–see GREECE, An­cient His­to­ry, sect. “Au­thor­ities,” II.) the treach­er­ous rais­ing of the shield as a sig­nal to the Per­sians at Marathon, but, what­ev­er the truth of this may be, there can be lit­tle doubt that they were not the on­ly one of the great Athe­ni­an fam­ilies to make trea­son­able over­tures to Per­sia. Per­icles and Al­cib­iades were both con­nect­ed with the Al­cmaeonidae. Noth­ing is heard of them af­ter the Pelo­pon­nesian war.

See Herodotus vi. 121-131.

AL­CMAN, or AL­CMAEON (the for­mer be­ing the Doric form of the name), the founder of Doric lyric po­et­ry, to whom was as­signed the first place among the nine lyric po­ets of Greece in the Alexan­dri­an canon, flour­ished in the lat­ter half of the 7th cen­tu­ry B.C. He was a Ly­di­an of Sardis, who came as a slave to Spar­ta, where he lived in the fam­ily of Agesi­das, by whom he was eman­ci­pat­ed. His mas­tery of Greek shows that he must have come very ear­ly to Spar­ta, where, af­ter the close of the Messe­ni­an wars, the peo­ple were able to be­stow their at­ten­tion up­on the arts of peace. Al­cman com­posed var­ious kinds of po­ems in var­ious me­tres; Parthe­nia (maid­ens’ songs), hymns, paeans, proso­dia (pro­ces­sion­als), and love-​songs, of which he was con­sid­ered the in­ven­tor. He was ev­ident­ly fond of good liv­ing, and traces of Asi­at­ic sen­su­ous­ness seem out of place amidst Spar­tan sim­plic­ity. The frag­ments are scanty, the most con­sid­er­able be­ing part of a Parthe­nion found in 1855 on an Egyp­tian pa­pyrus; some re­cent­ly dis­cov­ered hex­am­eters are at­tribut­ed to Al­cman or Erin­na (Oxyrhynchus pa­pyri, i. 1898).

For gen­er­al au­thor­ities see AL­CAEUS.

AL­CMENE, in an­cient Greek mythol­ogy, the daugh­ter of Elec­try­on, king of Myce­nae, and wife of Am­phit­ry­on. She was the moth­er of Her­acles by Zeus, who as­sumed the like­ness of her hus­band dur­ing his ab­sence, and of Iph­icles by Am­phit­ry­on. She was re­gard­ed as the an­ces­tress of the Her­aclei­dae, and wor­shipped at Thebes and Athens.

See Win­ter, Alkmene und Am­phit­ry­on (1876).

AL­COBA­CA, a town of Por­tu­gal, in the dis­trict of Leiria, for­mer­ly in­clud­ed in the province of Es­tremadu­ra, on the Al­coa and Ba­ca rivers, from which it de­rives its name. Pop. (1900) 2309. Al­coba­ca is chiefly in­ter­est­ing for its Cis­ter­cian con­vent, now part­ly con­vert­ed in­to schools and bar­racks. The monas­tic build­ings, which form a square 725 ft. in di­am­eter, with a huge con­ical chim­ney ris­ing above them, were found­ed in 1148 and com­plet­ed in 1222. Dur­ing the mid­dle ages it ri­valled the great­est Eu­ro­pean abbeys in size and wealth. It was sup­plied with wa­ter by an af­flu­ent of the Al­coa, which still flows through the kitchen; its ab­bot ranked with the high­est Por­tuguese no­bles, and, ac­cord­ing to tra­di­tion, 999 monks con­tin­ued the cel­ebra­tion of mass with­out in­ter­mis­sion through­out the year. The con­vent was part­ly burned by the French in 1810, sec­ular­ized in 1834 and af­ter­wards grad­ual­ly re­stored. Por­tions of the li­brary, which com­prised over 100,000 vol­umes, in­clud­ing many pre­cious MSS., were saved in 1810, and are pre­served in the pub­lic li­braries of Lis­bon and Bra­ga. The monas­tic church (1222) is a good ex­am­ple of ear­ly Goth­ic, some­what de­faced by Moor­ish and oth­er ad­di­tions. It con­tains a fine clois­ter and the tombs of Pe­ter I. (1357-1367) and his wife, In­ez de Cas­tro.

AL­COCK, JOHN (c. 1430-1500), En­glish di­vine, was born at Bev­er­ley in York­shire and ed­ucat­ed at Cam­bridge. In 1461 he was made dean of West­min­ster, and hence­for­ward his pro­mo­tion was rapid in church and state. In the fol­low­ing year he was made mas­ter of the rolls, and in 1470 was sent as am­bas­sador to the court of Castile. He was con­se­crat­ed bish­op of Rochester in 1472 and was suc­ces­sive­ly trans­lat­ed to the sees of Worces­ter (1476) and Ely (1486). He twice held the of­fice of lord chan­cel­lor, and ex­hib­it­ed great abil­ity in the ne­go­ti­ations with James III. of Scot­land. He died at Wis­bech Cas­tle on the 1st of Oc­to­ber 1500. Al­cock was one of the most em­inent pre-​Ref­or­ma­tion di­vines; he was a man of deep learn­ing and al­so of great pro­fi­cien­cy as an ar­chi­tect. Be­sides found­ing a char­ity at Bev­er­ley and a gram­mar school at Kingston-​up­on-​Hull, he re­stored many church­es and col­leges; but his great­est en­ter­prise was the erec­tion of Je­sus Col­lege, Cam­bridge, which he es­tab­lished on the site of the for­mer Con­vent of St Radi­gund.

Al­cock’s pub­lished writ­ings, most of which are ex­treme­ly rare, are: Mons Per­fec­tio­nis, or the Hill of Per­fec­tion (Lon­don, 1497); Gal­li­con­tus Jo­han­nis Al­cock epis­copi Elien­sis ad frates su­os cu­ratos in sin­odo apud Barn­well (1498), a good spec­imen of ear­ly En­glish print­ing and quaint il­lus­tra­tions; The Cas­tle of Labour, trans­lat­ed from the French (1536), and var­ious oth­er tracts and hom­ilies. See J. Bass Mullinger’s Hist. of the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cam­bridge, vol. i.

AL­COCK, SIR RUTHER­FORD (1809-1897), British con­sul and diplo­ma­tist, was the son of Dr Thomas Al­cock, who prac­tised at Eal­ing, near Lon­don, and him­self fol­lowed the med­ical pro­fes­sion. In 1836 he be­came a sur­geon in the ma­rine brigade which took part in the Carlist war, and gain­ing dis­tinc­tion by his ser­vices was made deputy in­spec­tor-​gen­er­al of hos­pi­tals. He re­tired from this ser­vice in 1837, and sev­en years lat­er was ap­point­ed con­sul at Fu­chow in Chi­na, where, af­ter a short of­fi­cial stay at Amoy, he per­formed the func­tions, as he him­self ex­pressed it, “of ev­ery­thing from a lord chan­cel­lor to a sher­iff’s of­fi­cer.” Fu­chow was one of the ports opened to trade by the treaty of 1842, and Mr Al­cock, as he then was, had to main­tain an en­tire­ly new po­si­tion with the Chi­nese au­thor­ities. In so do­ing he was em­inent­ly suc­cess­ful, and earned for him­self pro­mo­tion to the con­sulate at Shang­hai. Thith­er he went in 1846 and made it an es­pe­cial part of his du­ties to su­per­in­tend the es­tab­lish­ment, and lay­ing out of the British set­tle­ment, which has de­vel­oped in­to such an im­por­tant fea­ture of British com­mer­cial life in Chi­na. In 1858 he was ap­point­ed con­sul-​gen­er­al in the new­ly opened em­pire of Japan, and in the fol­low­ing year was pro­mot­ed to be min­is­ter plenipo­ten­tiary. In those days res­idence in Japan was sur­round­ed with many dan­gers, and the peo­ple were in­tense­ly hos­tile to for­eign­ers. In 1860 Mr Al­cock’s na­tive in­ter­preter was mur­dered at the gate of the lega­tion, and in the fol­low­ing year the lega­tion was stormed by a body of Ronins, whose at­tack was re­pulsed by Mr Al­cock and his staff. Short­ly af­ter this event he re­turned to Eng­land on leave. Al­ready he had been made a C.B. (1860); in 1862 he was made a K.C.B., and in 1863 hon. D.C.L. Ox­on. In 1864 he re­turned to Japan, and af­ter a year’s fur­ther res­idence he was trans­ferred to Pekin, where he rep­re­sent­ed the British gov­ern­ment un­til 1871, when he re­tired. But though no longer in of­fi­cial life his leisure was ful­ly oc­cu­pied. He was for some years pres­ident of the Roy­al Ge­ograph­ical So­ci­ety, and he served on many com­mis­sions. He was twice mar­ried, first in May 1841 to Hen­ri­et­ta Mary, daugh­ter of Charles Ba­con, who died in 1853, and sec­ond­ly (Ju­ly 8, 1862) to the wid­ow of the Rev. John Low­der, who died on the 13th of March 1899. He was the au­thor of sev­er­al works, and was one of the first to awak­en in Eng­land an in­ter­est in Japanese art; his best-​known book is The Cap­ital of the Ty­coon, which ap­peared in 1863. He died in Lon­don on the 2nd of Novem­ber 1897. (R. K. D.)

AL­CO­FORA­DO, MAR­IAN­NA (1640-1723), Por­tuguese au­thoress, writ­er of the Let­ters of a Por­tuguese Nun, was the daugh­ter of a land­ed pro­pri­etor in Alemte­jo. Be­ja, her birth­place, was the chief gar­ri­son town of that province, it­self the prin­ci­pal the­atre of the twen­ty-​eight years’ war with Spain that fol­lowed the Por­tuguese rev­olu­tion of 1640, and her wid­owed fa­ther, oc­cu­pied with ad­min­is­tra­tive and mil­itary com­mis­sions, placed Mar­ian­na in her child­hood in the wealthy con­vent of the Con­cep­tion for se­cu­ri­ty and ed­uca­tion. She made her pro­fes­sion as a Fran­cis­can nun at six­teen or ear­li­er, with­out any re­al vo­ca­tion, and lived a rou­tine life in that some­what re­laxed house un­til her twen­ty-​fifth year, when she met Noel Bou­ton. This man, af­ter­wards mar­quis de Chamil­ly, and mar­shal of France, was one of the French of­fi­cers who came to Por­tu­gal to serve un­der the great cap­tain, Fred­er­ick, Count Schomberg, the re-​or­ga­niz­er of the Por­tuguese army. Dur­ing the years 1665-1667 Chamil­ly spent much of his time in and about Be­ja, and prob­ably be­came ac­quaint­ed with the Al­co­fora­do fam­ily through Mar­ian­na’s broth­er, who was a sol­dier. Cus­tom then per­mit­ted re­li­gious to re­ceive and en­ter­tain vis­itors, and Chamil­ly, aid­ed by his mil­itary pres­tige and some flat­tery, found small dif­fi­cul­ty in be­tray­ing the trust­ful nun. Be­fore long their in­trigue be­came known and caused a scan­dal, and to avoid the con­se­quences Chamil­ly de­sert­ed Mar­ian­na and with­drew clan­des­tine­ly to France. The let­ters to her lover which have earned her renown in lit­er­ature were writ­ten be­tween De­cem­ber 1667 and June 1668, and they de­scribed the suc­ces­sive stages of faith, doubt and de­spair through which she passed. As a piece of un­con­scious psy­cho­log­ical self-​anal­ysis, they are un­sur­passed; as a prod­uct of the Penin­su­lar heart they are un­ri­valled. These five short let­ters writ­ten by Mar­ian­na to “ex­pos­tu­late her de­ser­tion” form one of the few doc­uments of ex­treme hu­man ex­pe­ri­ence, and re­veal a pas­sion which in the course of two cen­turies has lost noth­ing of its heat. Per­haps their dom­inant note is re­al­ity, and, sad read­ing as they are from the moral stand­point, their ab­so­lute can­dour, exquisite ten­der­ness and en­tire self-​aban­don­ment have ex­cit­ed the won­der and ad­mi­ra­tion of great men and wom­en in ev­ery age, from Madame de Se­vi­gne to W. E. Glad­stone. There are signs in the fifth let­ter that Mar­ian­na had be­gun to con­quer her pas­sion, and af­ter a life of rigid penance, ac­com­pa­nied by much suf­fer­ing, she died at the age of eighty-​three. The let­ters came in­to the pos­ses­sion of the comte de Guiller­agues, di­rec­tor of the Gazette de France, who turned them in­to French, and they were pub­lished anony­mous­ly in Paris in Jan­uary 1669. A Cologne edi­tion of the same year stat­ed that Chamil­ly was their ad­dressee, which is con­firmed by St Si­mon and Duc­los, but the name of their au­thoress re­mained un­di­vulged. In 1810, how­ev­er, Bois­son­ade dis­cov­ered Mar­ian­na’s name writ­ten in a copy of the first edi­tion by a con­tem­po­rary hand, and the ve­rac­ity of this as­crip­tion has been placed be­yond doubt by the re­cent in­ves­ti­ga­tions of Lu­ciano Cordeiro, who found a tra­di­tion in Be­ja con­nect­ing the French cap­tain and the Por­tuguese nun. The let­ters cre­at­ed a sen­sa­tion on their first ap­pear­ance, run­ning through five edi­tions in a year, and, to ex­ploit their pop­ular­ity, sec­ond parts, replies and new replies were is­sued from the press in quick suc­ces­sion. Notwith­stand­ing that the Por­tuguese orig­inal of the five let­ters is lost, their gen­uine­ness is as patent as the spu­ri­ous­ness of their fol­low­ers, and though Rousseau was ready to wa­ger they were writ­ten by a man, the prin­ci­pal crit­ics of Por­tu­gal and France have de­cid­ed against him. It is now gen­er­al­ly rec­og­nized that the let­ters are a ver­ba­tim trans­la­tion from the Por­tuguese.

The for­eign bib­li­og­ra­phy of the Let­ters, con­tain­ing al­most one hun­dred num­bers, will be found in Cordeiro’s ad­mirable study, Soror Mar­ian­na, A Friera Por­tugueza, 2nd ed. (Lis­bon, 1891). Be­sides the French edi­tions, ver­sions ex­ist in Dutch, Dan­ish, Ital­ian and Ger­man; and the En­glish bib­li­og­ra­phy is giv­en by Edgar Prestage in his trans­la­tion The Let­ters of a Por­tuguese Nun (Mar­ian­na Al­co­fora­do), 3rd ed. (Lon­don, 1903). The French text of the edi­tio prin­ceps was print­ed in the first edi­tion (1893) of this book. Ed­mund Gosse in the Fort­night­ly Re­view, vol. xlix. (old se­ries) p. 506, shows the con­sid­er­able in­flu­ence ex­er­cised by the Let­ters on the sen­ti­men­tal lit­er­ature of France and Eng­land. (E. PR.)

AL­CO­HOL, in Com­merce, the name gen­er­al­ly giv­en to “spir­its of wine”; in sys­tem­at­ic or­gan­ic chem­istry it has a wider mean­ing, be­ing the gener­ic name of a class of com­pounds (hy­droxy hy­dro­car­bons) of which or­di­nary al­co­hol (specif­ical­ly ethyl al­co­hol) is a typ­ical mem­ber (see AL­CO­HOLS.)


The word “al­co­hol” is of Ara­bic ori­gin, be­ing de­rived from the par­ti­cle al and the word kohl, an im­pal­pa­ble pow­der used in the East for paint­ing the eye­brows. For many cen­turies the word was used to des­ig­nate any fine pow­der; its present-​day ap­pli­ca­tion to the prod­uct of the dis­til­la­tion of wine is of com­par­ative­ly re­cent date. Thus Paracel­sus and Libav­ius both used the term to de­note a fine pow­der, the lat­ter speak­ing of an al­co­hol de­rived from an­ti­mo­ny. At the same time Paracel­sus us­es the word for a volatile liq­uid; al­cool Or al­cool vi­ni oc­curs of­ten in his writ­ings, and once he adds “id est vi­no ar­dente.” Oth­er names have been in use among the ear­li­er chemists for this same liq­uid. Eau de vie (“elixir of life”) was in use dur­ing the 13th and 14th cen­turies; Arnoldus Vil­lanovanus ap­plied it to the prod­uct of dis­tilled wine, though not as a spe­cif­ic name.

Ethyl al­co­hol.

Or­di­nary al­co­hol, which we shall fre­quent­ly re­fer to by its spe­cif­ic name, ethyl al­co­hol, sel­dom oc­curs in the veg­etable king­dom; the un­ripe seeds of Her­acleum gi­gan­teum and H. Spho­ndyli­um con­tain it mixed with ethyl bu­tyrate. In the an­imal king­dom it oc­curs in the urine of di­abet­ic pa­tients and of per­sons ad­dict­ed to al­co­hol. Its im­por­tant source lies in its for­ma­tion by the “spir­itu­ous” or “al­co­holic fer­men­ta­tion” of sac­cha­rine juices. The mech­anism of al­co­holic fer­men­ta­tion is dis­cussed in the ar­ti­cle FER­MEN­TA­TION, and the man­ufac­ture of al­co­hol from fer­ment­ed liquors in the ar­ti­cle SPIR­ITS.

The qual­ita­tive com­po­si­tion of ethyl al­co­hol was as­cer­tained by A. L. Lavoisi­er, and the quan­ti­ta­tive by N. T. de Saus­sure in 1808. Sir Ed­ward Fran­kland showed how it could be de­rived from, and con­vert­ed in­to, ethane; and thus de­ter­mined it to be ethane in which one hy­dro­gen atom was repi­aced by a hy­drox­yl group. Its con­sti­tu­tion­al for­mu­la is there­fore CH3.CH2.OH. It may be syn­thet­ical­ly pre­pared by any of the gen­er­al meth­ods de­scribed in the ar­ti­cle AL­CO­HOLS.

Pure ethyl al­co­hol is a colour­less, mo­bile liq­uid of an agree­able odour. It boils at 78.3 deg. C. (760 mm.); at -90 deg. C. it is a thick liq­uid, and at -130 deg. it so­lid­ifies to a white mass. Its high co­ef­fi­cient of ther­mal ex­pan­sion, cou­pled with its low freez­ing point, ren­ders it a valu­able ther­mo­met­ric flu­id, es­pe­cial­ly when the tem­per­atures to be mea­sured are be­low -39 deg. C., for which the mer­cury ther­mome­ter can­not be used. It read­ily in­flames, burn­ing with a blue smoke­less flame, and pro­duc­ing wa­ter and car­bon diox­ide, with the evo­lu­tion of great heat; hence it re­ceives con­sid­er­able ap­pli­ca­tion as a fu­el. It mix­es with wa­ter in all pro­por­tions, the mix­ing be­ing at­tend­ed by a con­trac­tion in vol­ume and a rise in tem­per­ature; the max­imum con­trac­tion cor­re­sponds to a mix­ture of 3 molecules of al­co­hol and 1 of wa­ter. Com­mer­cial al­co­hol or “spir­its of wine” con­tains about 90% of pure ethyl al­co­hol, the re­main­der be­ing wa­ter. This wa­ter can­not be en­tire­ly re­moved by frac­tion­al dis­til­la­tion, and to pre­pare an­hy­drous or “ab­so­lute” al­co­hol the com­mer­cial prod­uct must be al­lowed to stand over some de­hy­drat­ing agent, such as caus­tic lime, bary­ta, an­hy­drous cop­per sul­phate, &c., and then dis­tilled. Cal­ci­um chlo­ride must not be used, since it forms a crys­talline com­pound with al­co­hol. The quan­ti­ty of al­co­hol present in an aque­ous so­lu­tion is de­ter­mined by a com­par­ison of its spe­cif­ic grav­ity with stan­dard ta­bles, or di­rect­ly by the use of an al­co­holome­ter, which is a hy­drom­eter grad­uat­ed so as to read per cents by weight (de­grees ac­cord­ing to Richter) or vol­ume per cents (de­grees ac­cord­ing to Tralles). Oth­er meth­ods con­sist in de­ter­min­ing the vapour ten­sion by means of the va­por­ime­ter of Geissler, or the boil­ing point by the ebul­lio­scope. In the Unit­ed King­dom “proof spir­it” is de­fined as hav­ing a spe­cif­ic grav­ity at 51 deg. of 12/13 (.92308) com­pared with wa­ter at the same tem­per­ature. The “quan­ti­ty at proof” is giv­en by the for­mu­la:– quan­ti­ty of sam­ple X (de­grees over or un­der proof + 100) di­vid­ed by 100.

The pres­ence of wa­ter in al­co­hol may be de­tect­ed in sev­er­al ways. Aque­ous al­co­hol be­comes tur­bid when mixed with ben­zene, car­bon disul­phide or paraf­fin oil; when added to a so­lu­tion of bar­ium ox­ide in ab­so­lute al­co­hol, a white pre­cip­itate of bar­ium hy­drox­ide is formed. A more del­icate method con­sists in adding a very lit­tle an­thraquinone and sodi­um amal­gam; ab­so­lute al­co­hol gives a green col­oration, but in the pres­ence of minute traces of wa­ter a red col­oration ap­pears. Traces of ethyl al­co­hol in so­lu­tions are de­tect­ed and es­ti­mat­ed by ox­ida­tion to ac­etalde­hyde, or by con­ver­sion in­to iod­oform by warm­ing with io­dine and potas­si­um hy­drox­ide. An al­ter­na­tive method con­sists in con­vert­ing it in­to ethyl ben­zoate by shak­ing with ben­zoyl chlo­ride and caus­tic so­da.

Al­co­hol is ex­ten­sive­ly em­ployed as a sol­vent; in fact, this con­sti­tutes one of its most im­por­tant in­dus­tri­al ap­pli­ca­tions. It dis­solves most or­gan­ic com­pounds, resins, hy­dro­car­bons, fat­ty acids and many metal­lic salts, some­times form­ing, in the lat­ter case, crys­talline com­pounds in which the ethyl al­co­hol plays a role sim­ilar to that of wa­ter of crys­tal­liza­tion. This fact was first no­ticed by T. Gra­ham, and, al­though it was at first con­tra­dict­ed, its truth was sub­se­quent­ly con­firmed. In gen­er­al, gas­es dis­solve in it more read­ily than in wa­ter; 100 vol­umes of al­co­hol dis­solve 7 vol­umes of hy­dro­gen, 25 vol­umes of oxy­gen and 16 vol­umes of ni­tro­gen.


Potas­si­um and sodi­um read­ily dis­solve in ethyl al­co­hol with the pro­duc­tion of al­co­ho­lates of the for­mu­la C2 H5 OK(Na). These are vo­lu­mi­nous white pow­ders. Sul­phuric acid con­verts it in­to ethyl sul­phuric acid (see ETHER, and sul­phur tri­ox­ide gives car­byl sul­phate. The phos­pho­rous haloids give the cor­re­spond­ing ethyl haloid. Ethyl chlo­ride (from the phos­pho­rus chlo­rides and al­co­hol) is an ethe­re­al liq­uid boil­ing at 12.5 deg. C., sol­uble in al­co­hol, but spar­ing­ly so in wa­ter. Ox­ida­tion of ethyl al­co­hol gives ac­etalde­hyde and acetic acid. Chlo­rine ox­idizes it to ac­etalde­hyde, and un­der cer­tain con­di­tions chlo­ral (q.v.) is formed.

In­dus­tri­al al­co­hol.

In al­most all coun­tries heavy tax­es are levied on man­ufac­tured al­co­hol main­ly as a source of rev­enue. In the Unit­ed King­dom the ex­cise du­ty is eleven shillings per proof gal­lon of al­co­hol, while the cus­toms du­ty is eleven shillings and fivepence; the mag­ni­tude of these im­posts may be read­ily un­der­stood when one re­mem­bers that the proof gal­lon costs on­ly about sev­en­pence to man­ufac­ture. The great im­por­tance of al­co­hol in the arts has ne­ces­si­tat­ed the in­tro­duc­tion of a du­ty-​free prod­uct which is suit­able for most in­dus­tri­al pur­pos­es, and at the same time is per­fect­ly un­fit for bev­er­ages or in­ter­nal ap­pli­ca­tion.

Methy­lat­ed spir­it.

In the Unit­ed King­dom this “de­na­tur­ized” al­co­hol is known as methy­lat­ed spir­it as a dis­tinc­tion from pure al­co­hol or “spir­its of wine.” It was first en­act­ed in 1855 that methy­lat­ed spir­it, a spe­cif­ic mix­ture of pure al­co­hol and wood- naph­tha, should be du­ty-​free; the present law is to be found in the Cus­toms and In­land Rev­enue Act of 1890, and the Fi­nance Act (sect. 8) of 1902. From 1858 to 1861 methy­lat­ed spir­it was du­ty-​free when it was re­quired for man­ufac­tur­ing pro­cess­es, and the methy­la­tion or “de­na­tur­iz­ing” was car­ried out in ac­cor­dance with a pre­scribed pro­cess. Dur­ing the next three decades (1861-1891) the law was ex­tend­ed, and methy­lat­ed spir­it was du­ty-​free for all pur­pos­es ex­cept for use as bev­er­ages and in­ter­nal medic­inal ap­pli­ca­tions. This spir­it (“un­min­er­al­ized methy­lat­ed spir­it”) con­sist­ed of 90 parts of al­co­hol of 60-66 over-​proof (91-95% of pure al­co­hol) and 10 parts of wood-​naph­tha. It was found, how­ev­er, that cer­tain class­es were ad­dict­ed to drink­ing this mix­ture, and since 1891 the sale of such spir­it has been con­fined to man­ufac­tur­ers who must pur­chase it in bulk from the “methy­la­tors.” For re­tail pur­pos­es the “or­di­nary” methy­lat­ed spir­it is mixed with .357% of min­er­al naph­tha, which has the ef­fect of ren­der­ing it quite un­drink­able. The Fi­nance Act of 1902 al­lows a man­ufac­tur­er to ob­tain a li­cense which per­mits the use of du­ty-​free al­co­hol, if he can show that such al­co­hol is ab­so­lute­ly es­sen­tial for the suc­cess of his busi­ness, and that methy­lat­ed spir­it is un­suit­able. Notwith­stand­ing this per­mis­sion there have been many ag­ita­tions on the part of chem­ical man­ufac­tur­ers to ob­tain a less re­strict­ed use of ab­so­lute al­co­hol, and in 1905 an In­dus­tri­al Al­co­hol Com­mit­tee was ap­point­ed to re­ceive ev­idence and re­port as to whether any mod­ifi­ca­tion of the present law was ad­vis­able. In the Unit­ed States the same ques­tion was con­sid­ered in 1896 by a Joint Se­lect Com­mit­tee on the use of al­co­hol in the man­ufac­tures and arts. Ref­er­ence should be made to the re­ports of these com­mit­tees for a full ac­count of the use, man­ufac­ture and statis­tics of “de­na­tur­ized” spir­its in var­ious Eu­ro­pean coun­tries.

In Ger­many, the use of du­ty-​free spir­it is on­ly al­lowed to state and mu­nic­ipal hos­pi­tals, and state sci­en­tif­ic in­sti­tu­tions, and for the man­ufac­ture of ful­mi­nates, fuzes and smoke­less pow­ders. The du­ty-​free “de­na­tur­ized” spir­its may be di­vid­ed in­to two groups–“com­plete­ly de­na­tur­ized” and “in­com­plete­ly de­na­tur­ized.” In the first cat­ego­ry there are two va­ri­eties:–(1) A mix­ture of 100 litres of spir­it and 2 1/2 litres of a mix­ture of 4 parts of wood-​naph­tha and 1 of pyri­dine bases; this spir­it, the use of which is prac­ti­cal­ly lim­it­ed to heat­ing and light­ing pur­pos­es, may be mixed with 50 grs. of laven­der or rose­mary, in or­der to de­stroy the nox­ious odour of the pyri­dine bases. (2) A mix­ture of 100 litres of spir­it, 1 1/4 litres of the naph­tha-​pyri­dine mix­ture de­scribed above, 1/4 litre of methyl vi­olet so­lu­tion, and from 2 to 20 litres of ben­zol; this flu­id is lim­it­ed to com­bus­tion in mo­tors and agri­cul­tur­al en­gines. The sec­ond cat­ego­ry, or “in­com­plete­ly de­na­tur­ized” spir­its, in­clude nu­mer­ous mix­tures. The “gen­er­al” mix­ture con­sists of 100 litres of spir­it, and 5 litres of wood spir­it or 1/2 litre of pyri­dine. Of the “par­tic­ular” va­ri­eties, we can on­ly no­tice those used in the colour in­dus­try. These con­sist of 100 litres of spir­it mixed with ei­ther 10 litres of sul­phuric ether, or 1 litre of ben­zol, or 1/2 litre of tur­pen­tine, or .025 litre of an­imal oil.

The Ger­man reg­ula­tions are ap­par­ent­ly based on a keen ap­pre­ci­ation of the fact that while one par­tic­ular de­na­tur­iz­ing agent may have lit­tle or no ef­fect on one in­dus­try, yet it would be quite fa­tal to the suc­cess of an­oth­er; there is con­se­quent­ly a great choice of de­na­tur­iz­ing agents, and in cer­tain cas­es it is suf­fi­cient to mix the al­co­hol with a reagent nec­es­sary for the pur­pose in hand, or even with a cer­tain amount of the fi­nal prod­uct, it be­ing on­ly nec­es­sary to sat­is­fy the state that the spir­it is not avail­able as a bev­er­age.

In France, the gen­er­al de­na­tur­iz­ing agent is wood-​spir­it of at least 58 over-​proof, and con­tain­ing 25% of ace­tone and 2.5% of “im­pu­rites py­ro­ge­nees”; 10 litres of this spir­it de­na­tur­izes 100 litres of al­co­hol. This mix­ture is sup­plied to man­ufac­tur­ers and cor­re­sponds to the British un­min­er­al­ized methy­lat­ed spir­it; but the reg­ula­tions are more strin­gent. When sold for light­ing and heat­ing pur­pos­es, it is fur­ther ad­mixed with 0.5% of heavy ben­zene boil­ing at 150 deg. -200 deg. C. Pro­vi­sions are al­so made for spe­cial de­na­tur­iz­ing pro­cess­es as in Ger­many.

In Amer­ica the in­ter­nal rev­enue tax on de­na­tur­ized al­co­hol (for­mer­ly du­ty-​free on­ly to sci­en­tif­ic in­sti­tu­tions) was re­moved by Congress in 1906 (act of June 7th).

Phar­ma­col­ogy, Tox­icol­ogy and Ther­apeu­tics of Al­co­hol.– Al­co­hol is of great medic­inal val­ue as a sol­vent, be­ing used to form so­lu­tions of al­ka­loids, resins, volatile oils, iod­oform, &c. In strength of about 10% and up­wards it is an an­ti­sep­tic. If ap­plied to the skin it rapid­ly evap­orates, there­by cool­ing the skin and di­min­ish­ing the amount of sweat ex­cret­ed. This re­frig­er­ant and an­hidrot­ic ac­tion is em­ployed to soothe many forms of headache by bathing the fore­head with eau de Cologne. If, on the oth­er hand, the al­co­hol be rubbed in­to the skin, or if its evap­ora­tion be pre­vent­ed–as by a watch-​glass–it ab­sorbs wa­ter from the tis­sues and thus hard­ens them.

Thor­ough­ly rubbed in­to the skin al­co­hol di­lates the blood- ves­sels and pro­duces a mild counter-​ir­ri­tant ef­fect. Many al­co­holic lin­iments are there­fore em­ployed for the re­lief of pain, es­pe­cial­ly mus­cu­lar pains, as in lum­ba­go and oth­er forms of so-​called “mus­cu­lar rheuma­tism.” Giv­en in­ter­nal­ly in small quan­ti­ties and in suf­fi­cient di­lu­tion, al­co­hol caus­es di­lata­tion of the gas­tric blood-​ves­sels, in­creased se­cre­tion of gas­tric juice, and greater ac­tiv­ity in the move­ments of the mus­cu­lar lay­ers in the wall of the stom­ach. It al­so tends to lessen the sen­si­bil­ity of the stom­ach and so may re­lieve gas­tric pain. In a 50% so­lu­tion or stronger–as when neat whisky is tak­en–al­co­hol pre­cip­itates the pepsin which is an es­sen­tial of gas­tric di­ges­tion, and there­by ar­rests this pro­cess. The de­sir­able ef­fects pro­duced by al­co­hol on the stom­ach are worth ob­tain­ing on­ly in cas­es of acute dis­eases. In chron­ic dis­ease and in health the use of al­co­hol as an aid to di­ges­tion is with­out the sup­port of clin­ical or lab­ora­to­ry ex­pe­ri­ence, the ben­efi­cial ac­tion be­ing at least neu­tral­ized by un­de­sir­able ef­fects pro­duced else­where. The con­tin­ued use of large dos­es of al­co­hol pro­duces chron­ic gas­tri­tis, in which the con­tin­ued ir­ri­ta­tion has led to over­growth of con­nec­tive tis­sue, at­ro­phy of the gas­tric glands and per­ma­nent ces­sa­tion of the gas­tric func­tions.

A sin­gle dose of con­cen­trat­ed al­co­hol (e.g. brandy) pro­duces very valu­able re­flex ef­fects, the heart beat­ing more rapid­ly and forcibly, and the blood-​pres­sure ris­ing. Hence the im­me­di­ate­ly ben­efi­cial ef­fect pro­duced in the cas­es of “faint­ing” or syn­cope. Af­ter ab­sorp­tion, which is very rapid, al­co­hol ex­erts a marked ac­tion up­on the blood. The oxy­gen con­tained in that flu­id, and des­tined for con­sump­tion by the tis­sues, is re­tained by the in­flu­ence of al­co­hol in its com­bi­na­tion with the haemoglobin or colour­ing mat­ter of the red blood cor­pus­cles. Hence the di­min­ished ox­ida­tion of the tis­sues, which leads to the ac­cu­mu­la­tion of un­used fat and so to the obe­si­ty which is so of­ten seen in those who ha­bit­ual­ly take much al­co­hol. The drug ex­erts a note­wor­thy ac­tion up­on the body-​tem­per­ature. As it di­lates the blood-​ves­sels of the skin it in­creas­es the sub­jec­tive sen­sa­tion of warmth. The ac­tu­al con­se­quence, how­ev­er, is that more heat than be­fore is nec­es­sar­ily lost from the sur­face of the body. Al­co­hol al­so di­min­ish­es the ox­ida­tion which is the main source of the body-​heat. It fol­lows that the drug is an an­tipyret­ic, and it is hence large­ly used in fevers as a means of re­duc­ing the tem­per­ature. This re­duc­tion of the tem­per­ature, car­ried to an un­de­sir­able ex­treme, is the rea­son why the man who has co­pi­ous­ly con­sumed spir­its “to keep out the cold” is of­ten vis­it­ed with pneu­mo­nia. The largest amount of al­co­hol that can be burnt up with­in the healthy body in twen­ty-​four hours is 1 1/2 oz., but it must be con­sumed in great di­lu­tion and di­vid­ed in­to small dos­es tak­en ev­ery four hours. Oth­er­wise the al­co­hol will for the most part leave the body un­used in the urine and the ex­pired air. In fever the case is dif­fer­ent. The raised tem­per­ature ap­pears to fa­cil­itate the ox­ida­tion of the sub­stance, so that quan­tiries may be tak­en and com­plete­ly uti­lized which would com­plete­ly in­tox­icate the in­di­vid­ual had his tem­per­ature been nor­mal. It fol­lows that al­co­hol is a food in fever, and its val­ue in this re­gard is great­ly in­creased by the fact that it re­quires no pri­ma­ry di­ges­tion, but pass­es with­out changes, and with­out need­ing change, to the tis­sues which are to use it. Ac­cord­ing to Sir Thomas Fras­er noth­ing else can com­pete with al­co­hol as a food in des­per­ate febrile cas­es, and to this use must be added its an­tipyret­ic pow­er al­ready ex­plained and its ac­tion as a so­porif­ic. Dur­ing its ad­min­is­tra­tion in febrile cas­es the drug must be most care­ful­ly watched, as its ac­tion may prove dele­te­ri­ous to the ner­vous sys­tem and the cir­cu­la­tion in cer­tain class­es of pa­tient. The state of the pulse is the best cri­te­ri­on of the ac­tion of al­co­hol in any giv­en case of fever. The tox­icol­ogy of al­co­hol is treat­ed in oth­er ar­ti­cles. It in­cludes acute al­co­holism (i.e. in­tox­ica­tion), chron­ic al­co­holism, delir­ium tremens, and all the count­less patho­log­ical changes–ex­tend­ing to ev­ery tis­sue but the bones, and es­pe­cial­ly marked in the ner­vous sys­tem– which al­co­hol pro­duces. (See DRUNK­EN­NESS: DELIR­IUM.)

Af­ter death the pres­ence of al­co­hol can be de­tect­ed in all the body flu­ids. Its es­pe­cial affin­ity for the ner­vous sys­tem is in­di­cat­ed by the fact that, when all traces of it have dis­ap­peared else­where, it can still be de­tect­ed with ease in the cere­bro-​spinal flu­id.

AL­CO­HOLS, in or­gan­ic chem­istry, a class of com­pounds which may be con­sid­ered as de­rived from hy­dro­car­bons by the re­place­ment of one or more hy­dro­gen atoms by hy­drox­yl groups. It is con­ve­nient to re­strict the term to com­pounds in which the hy­drox­yl group is at­tached to an aliphat­ic residue; this ex­cludes such com­pounds as the hy­droxy-​ben­zenes, naph­thalenes, &c., which ex­hib­it many dif­fer­ences from the com­pounds de­rived from the aliphat­ic alkyls.

Al­co­hols are clas­si­fied on two dis­tinct prin­ci­ples, one de­pend­ing up­on the num­ber of hy­drox­yl groups present, the oth­er on the na­ture of the re­main­ing groups at­tached to the car­bon atom which car­ries the hy­drox­yl group. Monatom­ic or mono­hy­dric al­co­hols con­tain on­ly one hy­drox­yl group; di­atom­ic, two, known as gly­cols (q.v.); tri­atom­ic, three, known as glyc­erols (q.v.); and so on.

The sec­ond prin­ci­ple leads to al­co­hols of three dis­tinct types, known as pri­ma­ry, sec­ondary and ter­tiary. The gen­esis and for­mu­la­tion of these types may be read­ily un­der­stood by con­sid­er­ing the re­la­tion which ex­ists be­tween the al­co­hols and the par­ent hy­dro­car­bon. In methane, CH4, the hy­dro­gen atoms are of equal val­ue, and hence on­ly one al­co­hol, viz. CH3OH, can be de­rived from it. This com­pound, methyl al­co­hol, is the sim­plest pri­ma­ry al­co­hol, and it is char­ac­ter­ized by the group­ing .CH2OH. Ethane, C2H6, in a sim­ilar man­ner, can on­ly give rise to one al­co­hol, name­ly ethyl al­co­hol, CH3CH2OH, which is al­so pri­ma­ry. Propane, CH3CH2CH3, can give rise to two al­co­hols –a pri­ma­ry al­co­hol, CH3CH2CH2OH (nor­mal propyl al­co­hol), formed by re­plac­ing a hy­dro­gen atom at­tached to a ter­mi­nal car­bon atom, and a sec­ondary al­co­hol, CH3.CH(OH).CH3 (iso­propyl al­co­hol), when the sub­sti­tu­tion is ef­fect­ed on the mid­dle car­bon atom. The group­ing CH.OH char­ac­ter­izes the sec­ondary al­co­hols; iso­propyl al­co­hol is the sim­plest mem­ber of this class. Bu­tane, C4H10, ex­ists in the two iso­mer­ic forms–nor­mal bu­tane, CH3.CH2.CH2.CH3, and iso-​bu­tane, CH(CH3)3. Each of these hy­dro-​car­bons gives rise to two al­co­hols: n-​bu­tane gives a pri­ma­ry and a sec­ondary; and iso-​bu­tane a pri­ma­ry, when the sub­sti­tu­tion takes place in one of the methyl groups, and a ter­tiary, when the hy­dro­gen atom of the :CH group is sub­sti­tut­ed. Ter­tiary al­co­hols are thus seen to be char­ac­ter­ized by the group :C.OH, in which the resid­ual va­len­cies of the car­bon atom are at­tached to alkyl groups.

In 1860 Her­mann Kolbe pre­dict­ed the ex­is­tence of sec­ondary and ter­tiary al­co­hols from the­oret­ical con­sid­er­ations. Re­gard­ing methyl al­co­hol, for which he pro­posed the name carbinol, as the sim­plest al­co­hol, he showed that by re­plac­ing one hy­dro­gen atom of the methyl group by an alkyl residue, com­pounds of the gen­er­al for­mu­la R.CH2.OH would re­sult. These are the pri­ma­ry al­co­hols. By re­plac­ing two of the hy­dro­gen atoms, ei­ther by the same or dif­fer­ent alkyls, com­pounds of the for­mu­la (R.R1)CH.OH (i.e. sec­ondary al­co­hols) would re­sult; while the re­place­ment of the three hy­dro­gen atoms would gen­er­ate al­co­hols of the gen­er­al for­mu­la (R.R1.R2)C.OH, i.e. ter­tiary al­co­hols. Fur­ther­more, he ex­hib­it­ed a com­par­ison be­tween these three types of al­co­hols and the amines. Thus:–

R.NH2 (R1R2)NH (R1R2R3)N R.CH2OH (R1R2)CH.OH (R1R2R3)C.OH Pri­ma­ry. Sec­ondary. Ter­tiary. To dis­tin­guish Pri­inary, Sec­ondary and Ter­tiary Al­co­hols.– Many re­ac­tions serve to dis­tin­guish these three types of al­co­hols. Of chief im­por­tance is their be­haviour on ox­ida­tion. The pri­ma­ry al­co­hols are first ox­idized to alde­hy­des (q.v.), which, on fur­ther ox­ida­tion, yield acids con­tain­ing the same num­ber of car­bon atoms as in the orig­inal al­co­hol. Sec­ondary al­co­hols yield ke­tones q.v.), which are sub­se­quent­ly ox­idized to a mix­ture of two acids, Ter­tiary al­co­hols yield nei­ther alde­hy­des nor ke­tones, but a mix­ture of two or more acids. An­oth­er method is based up­on the dif­fer­ent be­haviour of the cor­re­spond­ing ni­tro-​alkyl with ni­trous acid. The al­co­hol is first act­ed up­on with phos­pho­rus and io­dine, and the re­sult­ing alkyl io­dide is treat­ed with sil­ver ni­trite, which gives the cor­re­spond­ing ni­tro-​alkyl. The ni­tro-​alkyl is then treat­ed with potas­si­um ni­trite dis­solved in con­cen­trat­ed potash, and sul­phuric acid is added. By this treat­ment a pri­ma­ry ni­tro-​alkyl yields a ni­trolic acid, the potas­si­um salt of which forms an in­tense red so­lu­tion; a sec­ondary ni­tro-​alkyl forms a pseu­do ni­trol, which gives an in­tense blue so­lu­tion, while the ter­tiary com­pound does not act with ni­trous acid. The re­ac­tions out­lined above may be thus rep­re­sent­ed:–

//NOH R.CH2OH –> R.CH2I –> R.CH2.NO2 –> R.C< Pri­ma­ry al­co­hol. \NO2 Ni­trolic acid. R\ R\ R\ /NO2 >CH.OH –> >CH.I –> >CH.NO2 –> >C< R1/ R1/ R1/ \NO Sec­ondary al­co­hol. Pseu­do ni­trol. (R1R2R3)C.OH –> (R1R2R3)C.I –> (R1R2R3)C.NO2 Ter­tiary al­co­hol.

By heat­ing to the boil­ing point of naph­tha­lene (218 deg. ) ter­tiary al­co­hols are de­com­posed, while heat­ing to the boil­ing point of an­thracene (360 deg. ) suf­fices to de­com­pose sec­ondary al­co­hols, the pri­ma­ry re­main­ing un­af­fect­ed. These changes can be fol­lowed out by de­ter­mi­na­tions of the vapour den­si­ty, and so pro­vide a method for char­ac­ter­iz­ing al­co­hols (see Compt. Rend. 1904, 138, p. 984).


Al­co­hols may be read­ily pre­pared from the cor­re­spond­ing alkyl haloid by the ac­tion of moist sil­ver ox­ide (which be­haves as sil­ver hy­drox­ide): by the saponi­fi­ca­tion of their es­ters; or by the re­duc­tion of poly­hy­dric al­co­hols with hy­dri­od­ic acid, and the sub­se­quent con­ver­sion of the re­sult­ing alkyl io­dide in­to the al­co­hol by moist sil­ver ox­ide. Pri­ma­ry al­co­hols are ob­tained by de­com­pos­ing their sul­phuric acid es­ters (from sul­phuric acid and the ole­fines) with boil­ing wa­ter; by the ac­tion of ni­trous acid on pri­ma­ry amines; or by the re­duc­tion of alde­hy­des, acid chlo­rides or acid an­hy­drides. Sec­ondary al­co­hols re­sult from the re­duc­tion of ke­tones; and from the re­ac­tion of zinc alkyls on alde­hy­des or formic acid es­ters.

CH3.CH< –> CH3.CH< \OZnC2H5 \OH Ac­etalde­hyde. Methyl ethyl carbinol. //O /OZnCH3 /CH3 /CH3 HC HC<-CH3 –> R.C<-OZnCH3 –> R.C<-OH \OC2H5 \Cl \CH3 \CH3 Formic es­ter. Iso­propyl al­co­hol.]]>

Ter­tiary al­co­hols may be syn­the­sized by a method de­vised by A. But­lerow in 1864, who thus dis­cov­ered the ter­tiary al­co­hols. By re­act­ing with a zinc alkyl (methyl or ethyl) on an acid chlo­ride, an ad­di­tion com­pound is first formed, which de­com­pos­es with wa­ter to give a ke­tone. If, how­ev­er, a sec­ond molecule of a zinc alkyl be al­lowed to re­act, a com­pound is formed which gives a ter­tiary al­co­hol when de­com­posed with wa­ter.

//O /CH3 /CH3 /CH3 R.C</ –> R.C<-OZnCH3 –> R.C<-OZnCH3 –> R.C<-OH \Cl \Cl \CH3 \CH3 Acid chlo­ride. Ter­tiary al­co­hol.

It is in­ter­est­ing to note that, where­as zinc methyl and ethyl give ter­tiary al­co­hols, zinc propyl on­ly gives sec­ondary al­co­hols. Dur­ing re­cent years (1900 on­wards) many bril­liant syn­the­ses have been ef­fect­ed by the aid of mag­ne­sium-​alkyl-​haloids.


The al­co­hols are neu­tral in re­ac­tion, and the low­er mem­bers pos­sess the prop­er­ty of en­ter­ing in­to com­bi­na­tion with salts, in which the al­co­hol plays the role of wa­ter of crys­tal­liza­tion. Sodi­um or potas­si­um dis­solves in them with the for­ma­tion of al­co­ho­lates, the hy­dro­gen of the hy­drox­yl group be­ing re­placed by the met­al. With strong acids wa­ter is split off and es­ters are formed. The haloid es­ters of the paraf­fin al­co­hols formed by heat­ing the al­co­hols with the halo­gen acids are the mono­haloid deriva­tives of the paraf­fins, and are more con­ve­nient­ly pre­pared by the ac­tion of the phos­pho­rous haloid on the al­co­hol. En­er­get­ic de­hy­dra­tion gives the ole­fine hy­dro­car­bons, but un­der cer­tain con­di­tions ethers (see ETHER) are ob­tained.

The phys­ical prop­er­ties of the al­co­hols ex­hib­it a gra­da­tion with the in­crease of molec­ular weight. The low­er mem­bers are colour­less mo­bile liq­uids, read­ily sol­uble in wa­ter and ex­hibit­ing a char­ac­ter­is­tic odour and taste. The sol­ubil­ity de­creas­es as the car­bon con­tent ris­es. The nor­mal al­co­hols con­tain­ing 1 to 16 car­bon atoms are liq­uids at the or­di­nary tem­per­atures; the high­er mem­bers are crys­talline, odour­less and taste­less solids, close­ly re­sem­bling the fats in ap­pear­ance. The boil­ing points of the nor­mal al­co­hols in­crease reg­ular­ly about 10 deg. for each CH2 in­cre­ment; this is char­ac­ter­is­tic of all ho­mol­ogous se­ries of or­gan­ic com­pounds. Of the pri­ma­ry, sec­ondary and ter­tiary al­co­hols hav­ing the same em­pir­ical for­mu­la, the pri­ma­ry have the high­est, and the ter­tiary the low­est boil­ing point; this is in ac­cor­dance with the fair­ly gen­er­al rule that a gain in sym­me­try is at­tend­ed by a fall in the boil­ing point.

The fol­low­ing monatom­ic al­co­hols re­ceive spe­cial treat­ment un­der their own head­ings:–AL­CO­HOL (ETHYL), AL­LYL AL­CO­HOL, AMYL, AL­CO­HOLS, BEN zsqrt. L AL­CO­HOL, BUTYL AL­co­hols, METHY L AL­co­hol, and PROPYL AL­CO­HOLS.

AL­COTT, AMOS BRON­SON (1799-1888), Amer­ican ed­uca­tion­al­ist and writ­er, born on Spin­dle Hill, in the town of Wol­cott, New Haven coun­ty, Con­necti­cut, on the 29th of Novem­ber 1799. His fa­ther, Joseph Chat­field Al­cox, was a farmer and me­chan­ic whose an­ces­tors, then bear­ing the name of Al­cocke, had setlled in east­ern Mas­sachusetts in colo­nial days. The son adopt­ed the spelling “Al­cott” in his ear­ly youth. Self-​ed­ucat­ed and ear­ly thrown up­on his own re­sources, he be­gan in 1814 to earn his liv­ing by work­ing in a clock fac­to­ry in Ply­mouth, Conn., and for many years af­ter 1815 he ped­dled books and mer­chardise, chiefly in the south­ern states. He be­gan teach­ing in Bris­tol, Conn., in 1823, and sub­se­quent­ly con­duct­ed schools in Cheshire, Conn., in 1825-1827, again in Bris­tol in 1827-1828, in Boston in 1828-1830, in Ger­man­town, now part of Philadel­phia, in 1831-1833, and in Philadel­phia in 1833. In 1830 he had mari­ied Ab­by May, the sis­ter of Samuel J. May (1797-1871), the re­former and abo­li­tion­ist. In 1834 he opened in Boston a school which be­came fa­mous be­cause of his orig­inal meth­ods; his plan be­ing to de­vel­op self-​in­struc­tion on the ba­sis of self-​anal­ysis, with an ev­er-​present de­sire on his own part to stim­ulate the child’s per­son­al­ity. The fea­ture of his school which at­tract­ed most at­ten­tion, per­haps, was his scheme for the teach­er’s re­ceiv­ing pun­ish­ment, in cer­tain cir­cum­stances, at the hands of an of­fend­ing pupil, where­by the sense of shame might be quick­ened in the mind of the er­rant child. The school was de­nounced in the press, was not pe­cu­niar­ily suc­cess­ful, and in 1839 was giv­en up, al­though Al­cott had won the af­fec­tion of his pupils, and his ed­uca­tion­al ex­per­iments had chal­lenged the at­ten­tion of stu­dents of ped­agogy. The school is per­haps best de­scribed in Miss E. P. Peabody’s A Record of Mr Al­cott’s School (1835). In 1840 Al­cott re­moved to Con­cord, Mas­sachusetts. Af­ter a vis­it to Eng­land, in 1842, he start­ed with two En­glish as­so­ciates, Charles Lane and Hen­ry C. Wright, at “Fruit­lands,” in the town of Har­vard, Mas­sachusetts, a com­mu­nis­tic ex­per­iment at farm-​liv­ing and na­ture-​med­ita­tion as tend­ing to de­vel­op the best pow­ers of body and soul. This speed­ily came to naught, and Al­cott re­turned (1844) to his home near that of Emer­son in Con­cord, re­mov­ing to Boston four years lat­er, and again liv­ing in Con­cord af­ter 1857. He spoke, as op­por­tu­ni­ty of­fered, be­fore the “lyceums” then com­mon in var­ious parts of the Unit­ed States, or ad­dressed groups of hear­ers as they in­vit­ed him. These “con­ver­sa­tions,” as he called them, were more or less in­for­mal talks on a great range of top­ics, spir­itu­al, aes­thet­ic and prac­ti­cal, in which he em­pha­sized the ideas of the school of Amer­ican Tran­scen­den­tal­ists led by Emer­son, who was al­ways his sup­port­er and dis­creet ad­mir­er. He dwelt up­on the il­lu­mi­na­tion of the mind and soul by di­rect com­mu­nion with the Cre­ative Spir­it; up­on the spir­itu­al and po­et­ic mo­ni­tions of ex­ter­nal na­ture; and up­on the ben­efit to man of a serene mood and a sim­ple way of life. As re­gards the trend and re­sults of Al­cott’s philo­soph­ic teach­ing, it must be said that, like Emer­son, he was some­times in­con­sis­tent, hazy or abrupt. But though he for­mu­lat­ed no sys­tem of phi­los­ophy, and seemed to show the in­flu­ence now of Pla­to, now of Kant, or of Ger­man thought as fil­tered through the brain of Co­leridge, he was, like his Amer­ican mas­ter, as­so­ciate and friend, steadi­ly op­ti­mistic, ide­al­is­tic, in­di­vid­ual­is­tic. The teach­ings of William Ellery Chan­ning a lit­tle be­fore, as to the sa­cred in­vi­ola­bil­ity of the hu­man con­science–an­tic­ipat­ing the lat­er con­clu­sions of Mar­tineau–re­al­ly lay at the ba­sis of the work of most of the Con­cord tran­scen­den­tal­ists and con­trib­utors to The Di­al, of whom Al­cott was one. In his last years, liv­ing in a serene and beau­ti­ful old age in his Con­cord home, the Or­chard House,where ev­ery com­fort was pro­vid­ed by his daugh­ter Louisa (q.v.), Al­cott was grat­ified at be­ing able to be­come the nom­inal, and at times the ac­tu­al, head of a Con­cord “Sum­mer School of Phi­los­ophy and Lit­er­ature,” which had its first ses­sion in 1879, and in which –in a rude­ly fash­ioned build­ing next his house–thought­ful lis­ten­ers were ad­dressed dur­ing a part of sev­er­al suc­ces­sive sum­mer sea­sons on many themes in phi­los­ophy, re­li­gion and let­ters. Of Al­cott’s pub­lished works the most im­por­tant is Tablets (1868); next in or­der of mer­it is Con­cord Days (1872). His Son­nets and Can­zonets (1882) are chiefly in­ter­est­ing as an old man’s ex­per­iments in verse. He left a large col­lec­tion of per­son­al jot­tings and mem­ora­bil­ia, most of which re­main un­pub­lished. He died in Boston on the 4th of March 1888. Al­cott was a Gar­riso­ni­an abo­li­tion­ist.

See A. Bron­son Al­cott, His Life and Phi­los­ophy (2 vols., Boston, 1893), by F. B. San­born and William T. Har­ris; New Con­necti­cut: an Au­to­bi­ograph­ical Po­em (Boston, 1887), edit­ed by F. B. San­born; and Low­ell’s crit­icism in his Fa­ble for Crit­ics. (C. F. R.)

AL­COTT, LOUISA MAY (1832-1888), Amer­ican au­thor, was the daugh­ter of Amos Bron­son Al­cott, and though of New Eng­land parent­age and res­idence, was born in Ger­man­town, now part of Philadel­phia, Penn­syl­va­nia, on the 29th of Novem­ber 1832. She be­gan work at an ear­ly age as an oc­ca­sion­al teach­er and as a writ­er–her first book was Flow­er Fa­bles (1854), tales orig­inal­ly writ­ten for Ellen, daugh­ter of R. W. Emer­son. In 1860 she be­gan writ­ing for the At­lantic Month­ly, and she was nurse in the Union Hos­pi­tal at George­town, D.C., for six weeks in 1862-1863. Her home let­ters, re­vised and pub­lished in the Com­mon­wealth and col­lect­ed as Hos­pi­tal Sketch­es (1863, re­pub­lished with ad­di­tions in 1869), dis­played some pow­er of ob­ser­va­tion and record; and Moods, a nov­el (1864), de­spite its un­cer­tain­ty of method and of touch, gave con­sid­er­able promise. She soon turned, how­ev­er, to the rapid pro­duc­tion of sto­ries for girls, and, with the ex­cep­tion of the cheery tale en­ti­tled Work (1873), and the anony­mous nov­el­ette A Mod­ern Mephistophe­les (1877), which at­tract­ed lit­tle no­tice, she did not re­turn to the more am­bi­tious fields of the nov­el­ist. Her suc­cess dat­ed from the ap­pear­ance of the first se­ries of Lit­tle Wom­en: or Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy (1868), in which, with un­fail­ing hu­mour, fresh­ness and life­like­ness, she put in­to sto­ry form many of the say­ings and do­ings of her­self and sis­ters. Lit­tle Men (1871) sim­ilar­ly treat­ed the char­ac­ter and ways of her nephews in the Or­chard House in Con­cord, Mas­sachusetts, in which Miss Al­cott’s in­dus­try had now es­tab­lished her par­ents and oth­er mem­bers of the Al­cott fam­ily; but most of her lat­er vol­umes, An Old-​Fash­ioned Girl (1870), Aunt Jo’s Scrap Bag (6 vols., 1871-1879), Rose in Bloom (1876), &c., fol­lowed in the line of Lit­tle Wom­en, of which the au­thor’s large and loy­al pub­lic nev­er wea­ried. Her nat­ural love of labour, her wide-​reach­ing gen­eros­ity, her quick per­cep­tion and her fond­ness for shar­ing with her many read­ers that cheery hu­mour which ra­di­at­ed from her per­son­al­ity and her books, led her to pro­duce sto­ries of a di­min­ish­ing val­ue, and at last she suc­cumbed to over­work, dy­ing in Boston on the 6th of March 1888, two days af­ter the death of her fa­ther in the same city. Miss Al­cott’s ear­ly ed­uca­tion had part­ly been giv­en by the nat­ural­ist Thore­au, but had chiefly been in the hands of her fa­ther; and in her girl­hood and ear­ly wom­an­hood she had ful­ly shared the tri­als and pover­ty in­ci­dent to the life of a peri­patet­ic ide­al­ist. In a news­pa­per sketch en­ti­tled “Tran­scen­den­tal Wild Oats,” af­ter­wards reprint­ed in the vol­ume Sil­ver Pitch­ers (1876), she nar­rat­ed, with a del­icate hu­mour, which showed what her lit­er­ary pow­ers might have been if freed from drudgery, the ex­pe­ri­ences of her fam­ily dur­ing an ex­per­iment to­wards com­mu­nis­tic “plain liv­ing and high think­ing” at “Fruit­lands,” in the town of Har­vard, Mas­sachusetts, in 1843.

The sto­ry of her ca­reer has been ful­ly and frankly told in Mrs Ed­nah D. Ch­eney’s Louisa May Al­cott: Her Life, Let­ters and Jour­nals (Boston, 1889). (C. F. R.)

AL­COVE (through the Span. al­co­va, from the Arab. al-, the, and quob­bah, a vault), an ar­chi­tec­tural term for a re­cess in a room usu­al­ly screened off by pil­lars, balustrade or drap­ery.

AL­COY, a town of south-​east­ern Spain, in the province of Al­icante, on the small riv­er Ser­pis, and at the ter­mi­nus of a branch rail­way con­nect­ed with the Barcelona-​Va­len­cia-​Al­icante line. Pop. (1900) 32,053. Al­coy is built on high ground at the en­trance to a gorge in the Mon­cabr­er range (4547 ft.). It is a thriv­ing in­dus­tri­al town, de­void of any great an­ti­quar­ian or ar­chi­tec­tural in­ter­est, though found­ed by the Moors. It owes its pros­per­ity to its man­ufac­ture of linen, woolen goods and pa­per, es­pe­cial­ly cigarette pa­per. Many of the fac­to­ries de­rive their mo­tive pow­er from the falls of a moun­tain tor­rent, known as the Salto de las Aguas. Labour dis­tur­bances are fre­quent, for, like Barcelona, Al­coy has be­come one of the cen­tres of so­cial­is­tic and rev­olu­tion­ary ag­ita­tion, while pre­serv­ing many old-​fash­ioned cus­toms and tra­di­tions, such as the cu­ri­ous fes­ti­val held an­nu­al­ly in April in hon­our of St George, the pa­tron saint of the town.

CO­CEN­TAINA (pop. 1900, 7093) is a pic­turesque and an­cient town, 4 m. N.E. by rail. It is sur­round­ed by Ro­man walls, which were part­ly re­built by the Moors, and it con­tains an in­ter­est­ing for­ti­fied palace, owned by the dukes of Med­inaceli.

For an ac­count of the fes­ti­val of St George of Al­coy, see Apuntes his­tori­cos ac­er­ca de las fi­es­tas que cel­ebra ca­da ano la ciu­dad de Al­coy a su pa­tron San Jorge, by J. A. Llo­bet y Val­losera (Al­coy, 1853).

AL­CUIN (ALCHUINE), a cel­ebrat­ed ec­cle­si­as­tic and man of learn­ing in the 8th cen­tu­ry, who liked to be called by the Latin name of AL­BI­NUS, and at the Acade­my of the palace took the sur­name of FLAC­CUS, was born at Ebo­racum (York) in 735. He was re­lat­ed to Willi­brord, the first bish­op of Utrecht, whose bi­og­ra­phy he af­ter­wards wrote. He was ed­ucat­ed at the cathe­dral school of York, un­der the cel­ebrat­ed mas­ter AEl­bert, with whom he al­so went to Rome in search of manuscripts. When AEl­bert was ap­point­ed arch­bish­op of York in 766, Al­cuin suc­ceed­ed him in the head­ship of the epis­co­pal school. He again went to Rome in 780, to fetch the pal­li­um for Arch­bish­op Ean­bald, and at Par­ma met Charle­magne, who per­suad­ed him to come to his court, and gave him the pos­ses­sion of the great abbeys of Fer­ri­eres and of Saint-​Loup at Troyes. The king count­ed on him to ac­com­plish the great work which was his dream, name­ly, to make the Franks fa­mil­iar with the rules of the Latin lan­guage, to cre­ate schools and to re­vive learn­ing. From 781 to 790 Al­cuin was his sovereign’s prin­ci­pal helper in this en­ter­prise. He had as pupils the king of the Franks, the mem­bers of his fam­ily and the young cler­ics at­tached to the palace chapel; he was the life and soul of the Acade­my of the palace, and we have still, in the Di­alogue of Pepin (son of Charle­magne) and Al­cuin, a sam­ple of the in­tel­lec­tu­al ex­er­cis­es in which they in­dulged. It was un­der his in­spi­ra­tion that Charles wrote his fa­mous let­ter de lit­teris colendis (Boretius, Ca­pit­ular­ia, i. p. 78), and it was he who found­ed a fine li­brary in the palace. In 790 Al­cuin re­turned to his own coun­try, to which he had al­ways been great­ly at­tached, and stayed there some time; but Charle­magne need­ed him to com­bat the Adop­tian­ist heresy, which was at that time mak­ing great progress in the march­es of Spain. At the coun­cil of Frank­fort in 794 Al­cuin up­held the or­tho­dox doc­trine, and ob­tained the con­dem­na­tion of the here­siarch Fe­lix of Urgel. Af­ter this vic­to­ry he again re­turned to his own land, but on ac­count of the dis­tur­bances which broke out there, and which led to the death of King AEthelred (796), he bade farewell to it for ev­er. Charle­magne had just giv­en him the great abbey of St Mar­tin at Tours, and there, far from the dis­turbed life of the court, he passed his last years. He made the abbey school in­to a mod­el of ex­cel­lence, and many stu­dents flocked to it; he had nu­mer­ous manuscripts copied, the cal­lig­ra­phy of which is of ex­traor­di­nary beau­ty (v. Leopold Delisle in the Mem­oires de l’Academie des In­scrip­tions, vol. xxxii., 1st part, 1885) . He wrote nu­mer­ous let­ters to his friends in Eng­land, to Arno, bish­op of Salzburg, and above all to Charle­magne. These let­ters, of which 311 are ex­tant, are filled chiefly with pi­ous med­ita­tions, but they fur­ther form a mine of in­for­ma­tion as to the lit­er­ary and so­cial con­di­tions of the time, and are the most re­li­able au­thor­ity for the his­to­ry of hu­man­ism in the Car­olin­gian age. He al­so trained the nu­mer­ous monks of the abbey in piety, and it was in the midst of these pur­suits that he was struck down by death on the 19th of May 804.

Al­cuin is the most promi­nent fig­ure of the Car­olin­gian Re­nais­sance, in which have been dis­tin­guished three main pe­ri­ods: in the first of these, up to the ar­rival of Al­cuin at the court, the Ital­ians oc­cu­py the chief place; in the sec­ond, Al­cuin and the An­glo-​Sax­ons are dom­inant; in the third, which be­gins in 804, the in­flu­ence of the Goth Theo­dulf is pre­pon­der­ant. Al­cuin trans­mit­ted to the ig­no­rant Franks the knowl­edge of Latin cul­ture which had ex­ist­ed in Eng­land since the time of Be­de. We still have a num­ber of his works. His let­ters have al­ready been men­tioned; his po­et­ry is equal­ly in­ter­est­ing. Be­sides some grace­ful epis­tles in the style of For­tu­na­tus, he wrote some long po­ems, and no­tably a whole his­to­ry in verse of the church at York: Ver­sus de pa­tribus, reg­ibus et sanc­tis Ebo­ra­cen­sis ec­cle­si­ae. We owe to him, too, some man­uals used in his ed­uca­tion­al work; a gram­mar and works on rhetoric and di­alec­tics. They are writ­ten in the form of di­alogues, and in the two last the in­ter­locu­tors are King Charles and Al­cuin. He wrote, fi­nal­ly, sev­er­al the­olog­ical trea­tis­es: a trea­tise de Fide Trini­tatis, com­men­taries on the Bible, &c. The com­plete works of Al­cuin have been edit­ed by Froben: Al­cui­ni opera, 1 vol. in 4 parts (Re­gens­burg, 1777); this edi­tion is re­pro­duced in Migne’s Pa­trolog. lat. vols. c. and ci. The let­ters have been pub­lished by Jaffe and Dumm­ler in Jaffe’s Bib­lio­the­ca re­rum ger­moni­carum, vol. vi. pp. 132-897 (1873). E. Dumm­ler has al­so pub­lished an au­thor­ita­tive edi­tion, Epis­to­lae ae­vi Car­oli­ni, vol. ii. pp. 1-481, in the Mon­umen­ta Ger­ma­ni­ae, and has edit­ed the po­ems in the same col­lec­tion: Po­et­ae la­ti­ni ae­vi Car­oli­ni, vol. i. pp. 169-341.

AU­THOR­ITIES.–Mon­nier, Al­cuin et Charle­magne (Paris, 1863); K. Wern­er, Alkuin und sein Jahrhun­dert (Pader­born, 1876); J. Bass Mullinger, The Schools of Charles the Great and the Restora­tion of Ed­uca­tion in the 9th Cen­tu­ry (Lon­don, 1877); Aug. Molin­ier, Les Sources de l’his­toire de France, vol. i. p. 191; G, Mon­od, Etudes cri­tiques sur les sources de l’his­toire car­olingi­en­ne, part i. (Paris, (1898); C. J. B. Gaskoin, Al­cuin: His Life and his Work (Lon­don, 1903). See fur­ther U. Cheva­lier, Reper­toire des sources, &c., bio­bib­li­ogra­phie, s.v. Al­cuin; Wat­ten­bach, Deutsch­lands Geschicht­squellen (Stuttgart and Berlin, 1904), i, p. 186. (C. PF.)

AL­CY­ONE, or HAL­CY­ONE, in Greek mythol­ogy, daugh­ter of Ae­olus and wife of Ceyx. For their pre­sump­tion in call­ing them­selves Zeus and Hera they were changed in­to birds–Al­cy­one in­to a div­er, Ceyx in­to a king­fish­er. Ac­cord­ing to an­oth­er sto­ry, Ceyx was drowned and his body cast on the shore. His wife found the body, and the gods, out of com­pas­sion, changed both her and her hus­band in­to king­fish­ers. By com­mand of Zeus (or Ae­olus) the winds ceased to blow dur­ing their brood­ing-​time, for sev­en days be­fore and af­ter the short­est day, that their eggs might not be car­ried away by the sea. Hence the ex­pres­sion “hal­cy­on days,” used in an­cient and mod­ern times to de­note a pe­ri­od of calm and tran­quil­li­ty.

Apol­lo­nius Rhodius i. 1087; Ovid, Metam. xi. 410 et seq.; Hy­gi­nus, Fab­ulae, 65.

ALDABRA, the col­lec­tive name of a group of is­lands in the In­di­an Ocean, form­ing part of the British colony of Sey­chelles. They lie in 9 deg. 30′ S., 46 deg. E., are 265 m. N.W. of the north­ern point of Mada­gas­car and 690 m. S.W. of Ma­he, the prin­ci­pal is­land of the Sey­chelles archipela­go. The Co­moro Is­lands lie 220 m. S. by W. of Aldabra. The Aldabra Is­lands con­sti­tute an atoll con­sist­ing of an oval ring of land, some 40 m. in cir­cum­fer­ence and about 1 1/2 m. broad, en­clos­ing a shal­low la­goon. Chan­nels di­vide the ring in­to four is­lands. Grande Terre or South Is­land forms three-​fifths of the cir­cum­fer­ence. The oth­er is­lands are West Is­land or Ile Pi­card, Polym­nie and Mid­dle Is­land. There are in ad­di­tion sev­er­al islets in the la­goon, the most im­por­tant be­ing Ile Michel. The to­tal land area is es­ti­mat­ed at about 60 sq. m., the la­goon, 16 m. long and 4 m. wide, cov­er­ing a some­what larg­er area. Pop. (1906) 127. The is­lands rise from 20 to 80 ft. above the sea, and con­sist of rugged coral rock and lime­stone, there be­ing very lit­tle soil. The sea-​face is gen­er­al­ly over­hang­ing cliff, but in a few places are sandy beach­es and low sand­hills. Dense scrub cov­ers most of the land, but the in­ner (la­goon) shore is ev­ery­where bound­ed by man­grove swamps. The flo­ra and fau­na of the is­lands present fea­tures of un­usu­al in­ter­est. They are chiefly not­ed as the habi­tat of the gi­gan­tic land tor­toise (Tes­tu­do ele­phanti­na), now care­ful­ly pre­served, and of sev­er­al rare and pe­cu­liar birds, in­clud­ing a rail (Dry­olim­nas aldabranus), an ibis (Ibis ab­bot­tii) and a dove (Alec­troe­nas sganzi­ni.) Crus­tacea are abun­dant. They in­clude oys­ters, crabs of great size, and a small mus­sel, found in enor­mous num­bers. The flo­ra in­cludes man­groves, Ru­bi­aceae, Sapotaceae and oth­er forms re­quir­ing more than pure coralline ma­te­ri­al for their growth. Writ­ing of the fau­na and flo­ra gen­er­al­ly, Mr R. Dupont, cu­ra­tor of the Botan­ic sta­tion at Ma­he, who vis­it­ed Aldabra in 1906. says: “The spec­imens rep­re­sent­ed, be­sides be­ing part­ly pe­cu­liar, most­ly be­long to the Mas­carenes, Mada­gas­car and Co­moros species. Many species are al­so com­mon to East Africa and to In­dia. . . . The pre­dom­inant species are Mada­gas­car plants and birds, which are car­ried by the cur­rents and the winds. . . . There are com­par­ative­ly few (10) species of plants which are en­dem­ic as far as the flo­ra has been in­ves­ti­gat­ed, and it is prob­able that most of them are al­so ex­ist­ing in the Co­moros, where the flo­ra is not well known. . . . En­dem­ic in­fe­ri­or an­imals and mam­mals are prac­ti­cal­ly non-​ex­is­tent, ex­cept two bats and one scor­pi­on, which are al­lied to Mada­gas­car species or in­tro­duced. The rep­tiles (tor­tois­es) are al­so near­ly al­lied to the Mas­carenes and Mada­gas­car species which once ex­ist­ed. With re­gard to birds and land shells the re­la­tion is much clos­er to the Co­moros species, and the lat­ter, of which I have col­lect­ed sev­en species be­sides Rachis aldabrae, may serve to point out more than the birds the land con­nex­ion of Aldabra with the neigh­bour­ing coun­tries.” Aldabra, how­ev­er, al­though sit­uat­ed in that re­gion of the In­di­an Ocean which forms part of the site of the In­do-​Mada­gas­car con­ti­nent of the Sec­ondary pe­ri­od, is not a peak of the sub­merged land. It has been built up from the sunken re­mains of the old con­ti­nent by a de­posit, in the opin­ion of Pro­fes­sor A. Voeltzkow, of foraminifer­al re­mains (most­ly coc­col­iths and rhab­doliths). In any case, how­ev­er Aldabra was formed, there can be no sug­ges­tion of its ev­er hav­ing been joined to any oth­er land (Stan­ley Gar­diner). Dupont states that at Aldabra the coral foun­da­tion is to­tal­ly above wa­ter. The coral lime­stone of the atoll has a pe­cu­liar vit­ri­fied ap­pear­ance and gives out a ring­ing sound when struck or sim­ply walked on. The coral is gen­er­al­ly red­dish, but the colour­ing ranges from light yel­low to choco­late-​brown.

Aldabra was vis­it­ed by Por­tuguese nav­iga­tors in 1511. The is­lands were al­ready known to the Arabs, from whom they get their name. They be­came in the mid­dle of the 18th cen­tu­ry de­pen­den­cies of the French es­tab­lish­ments at Bour­bon (Re­union), whence ex­pe­di­tions were made for the cap­ture of the gi­ant tor­tois­es. In 1810 with Mau­ri­tius, Bour­bon, the Sey­chelles and oth­er is­lands, Aldabra passed in­to the pos­ses­sion of Great Britain. The in­hab­itants are em­igrants from the Sey­chelles. Goats are bred and co­co-​nuts cul­ti­vat­ed, but fish­ing is the chief in­dus­try. With oth­er out­ly­ing is­lands Aldabra is held un­der lease from the Sey­chelles gov­ern­ment, the lessees hav­ing ex­clu­sive trad­ing priv­ileges.

See R. Dupont, Re­port on a Vis­it of In­ves­ti­ga­tion to . . . the Aldabra Group of the Sey­chelles Is­lands (Sey­chelles, 1907); Dr Ab­bott in Pro­ceed­ings, Unit­ed States Na­tion­al Mu­se­um (Wash­ing­ton, 1894); A. Voeltzkow in Abh. der Senck­en­ber­gis­chen Naturfer­schen­den Ges. vol. xxvi. part iv. (1901); J. S. Gar­diner, “The In­di­an Ocean,” Geo. Journ. Oct. 1906.

ALD­BOR­OUGH, a vil­lage in the Ripon par­lia­men­tary di­vi­sion of the West Rid­ing of York­shire, Eng­land, 16 m. W.N.W. of York, and 1 m. E. of the mar­ket town of Bor­ough­bridge, which has a sta­tion on a branch of the North-​East­ern rail­way. Ald­bor­ough for­mer­ly re­turned two mem­bers to par­lia­ment, but was dis­fran­chised by the Re­form Act of 1832. The place is re­mark­able from its nu­mer­ous an­cient re­mains. It was the Isuri­um Brig­an­tum of the Ro­mans, orig­inal­ly per­haps a cap­ital of the Brig­antes tribe, and af­ter­wards a Ro­mano-​British town of con­sid­er­able size. In­scrip­tions, beau­ti­ful mo­saics and oth­er traces of com­fort­able hous­es have been found, with many pot­sherds, coins and bronze, iron and oth­er ob­jects; and a large part of the town walls, sev­er­al mo­saics and parts of build­ings, can be seen. A fine col­lec­tion is kept in the Mu­se­um Isuri­anum in the grounds of the manor-​house.

ALDE­BURGH [ALD­BOR­OUGH], a mar­ket town and mu­nic­ipal bor­ough in the Eye par­lia­men­tary di­vi­sion of Suf­folk, Eng­land, the ter­mi­nus of a branch of the Great East­ern rail­way, 99 1/2 m. N.E. by E. from Lon­don. Area, 1629 acres. Pop. (1901) 2405. The sur­round­ing dis­trict is open and some­what bleak, but a fine stretch of sand fringes the shal­low in­let of the North Sea known as Alde­burgh Bay. To the W. the riv­er Alde broad­ens as if in­to an es­tu­ary, but its out­flow is here pre­vent­ed by the sand, and it runs south for near­ly 10 m. par­al­lel with the shore. The sand­banks have ar­rest­ed the en­croach­ments of the sea, which sub­merged a for­mer site of Alde­burgh. The church of St Pe­ter and St Paul is Per­pen­dic­ular, large­ly re­stored, and con­tains a mon­ument to the po­et George Crabbe, born here on the 24th of De­cem­ber 1754. A small pic­turesque Moot Hall of the 16th cen­tu­ry is used for cor­po­ra­tion meet­ings. Slaugh­den Quay on the Alde ad­mits small ves­sels, and fish­ing is car­ried on. Alde­burgh is gov­erned by a may­or, 4 al­der­men and 12 coun­cil­lors.

Alde­burgh (Ald­burc) takes its name from the riv­er Alde on which it stands. It is not men­tioned in pre-​Con­quest records, but at the Domes­day sur­vey most of the land was held by Robert Malet, a Nor­man. In 1155 the manor was grant­ed to the abbey of St John of Colch­ester, lat­er to Car­di­nal Wolsey, and on his dis­grace, to Thomas Howard, duke of Nor­folk, to whom Eliz­abeth in 1567 grant­ed a mar­ket on Sat­ur­day. In the 16th cen­tu­ry Alde­burgh was a place of con­sid­er­able com­mer­cial im­por­tance, due, no doubt, to its po­si­tion on the sea-​coast. Alde­burgh claims to be a bor­ough by pre­scrip­tion: the ear­li­est char­ter is that grant­ed by Hen­ry VI­II. in 1529. Ed­ward VI. in 1548 raised it to the rank of a free bor­ough, grant­ing a char­ter of in­cor­po­ra­tion and a mar­ket on Wednes­day. Lat­er char­ters were grant­ed by Philip and Mary in 1553, by Eliz­abeth in 1558 and 1567, by James I. (who grant­ed two an­nu­al fairs) in 1606, and by Charles I. in 1631 and 1637. The cor­po­ra­tion in­clud­ed 2 bailiffs, 10 cap­ital and 24 in­fe­ri­or burgess­es, un­til the Mu­nic­ipal Cor­po­ra­tions Act 1883. The fairs and mar­kets be­came so unim­por­tant that they were dis­con­tin­ued about the mid­dle of the 19th cen­tu­ry. The town re­turned two mem­bers to Eliz­abeth’s par­lia­ment of 1572, and con­tin­ued to be so rep­re­sent­ed till the Re­form Bill of 1832 dis­fran­chised it. Fre­quent dis­as­trous in­cur­sions of the sea in the 18th cen­tu­ry re­duced Alde­burgh to a mere fish­ing vil­lage. In re­cent years it has grown as a sea­side re­sort, with ex­cel­lent golf-​links.

See John Kir­by, The Suf­folk Trav­eller (2nd ed., 1764); N. F. Hele, Notes about Alde­burgh (1870); Vic­to­ria Coun­ty His­to­ry–Suf­folk.

ALDE­GR­EV­ER, or ALDE­GRAF, HEIN­RICH (1502-1558), Ger­man painter and en­graver, was born at Pader­born, from which he re­moved in ear­ly life to Soest, where he died. From the close re­sem­blance of his style to that of Al­brecht Dur­er he has some­times been called the Al­bert of West­phalia. His nu­mer­ous en­grav­ings, chiefly from his own de­signs, are del­icate and minute, though some­what hard in style, and en­ti­tle him to a place in the front rank of the so-​called “Lit­tle Mas­ters.” There is a good col­lec­tion in the British Mu­se­um. Spec­imens of his paint­ing are ex­ceed­ing­ly rare. Five pic­tures are in con­ti­nen­tal gal­leries, but the gen­uine­ness of the works in the Vi­en­na and Mu­nich col­lec­tions at­tribut­ed to him is at least doubt­ful, the on­ly un­chal­lenged ex­am­ple be­ing a por­trait of En­gel­bert Ther­laen (1551) in the Berlin Mu­se­um.

ALDE­HY­DES, a class of chem­ical com­pounds of the gen­er­al for­mu­la R.CHO (R = an alkyl or an aryl group). The name is de­rived from al­co­hol de­hy­dro­gena­tum in al­lu­sion to the fact that they may be pre­pared by the ox­ida­tion of al­co­hols. The low­er mem­bers of the se­ries are neu­tral liq­uids pos­sess­ing a char­ac­ter­is­tic smell; they are sol­uble in wa­ter and are read­ily volatile (formalde­hyde, how­ev­er, is a gas at or­di­nary tem­per­atures). As the car­bon con­tent of the molecule in­creas­es, they be­come less sol­uble in wa­ter, and their smell be­comes less marked with the in­crease in boil­ing point, the high­est mem­bers of the se­ries be­ing odour­less solids, which can on­ly be dis­tilled with­out de­com­po­si­tion in vac­uo.

The alde­hy­des may be pre­pared by the care­ful ox­ida­tion of pri­ma­ry al­co­hols with a mix­ture of potas­si­um dichro­mate and sul­phuric acid,–3R.CH2OH + K2 Cr2O7 + 4H2SO4 = K2SO4 + Cr2(SO4)3 + 7H2O + 3R.CHO; by dis­till­ing the cal­ci­um salts of the fat­ty acids with cal­ci­um for­mate; and by hy­drol­ysis of the ac­etals. L. Bou­veault (Bull. soc. chim., 1904 [3], 31, p. 1306) pre­pares alde­hy­des by the grad­ual ad­di­tion of dis­ub­sti­tut­ed for­mamides (dis­solved in an­hy­drous ether) to mag­ne­sium alkyl haloids, the best yields be­ing ob­tained by the use of di­ethyl for­mamide. Sec­ondary re­ac­tions take place at the same time, yield­ing more par­tic­ular­ly hy­dro­car­bons of the paraf­fin se­ries. G. Darzens (Comptes Ren­dus, 1904, 139, p. 1214) pre­pares es­ters of dis­ub­sti­tut­ed gly­cidic acids, by con­dens­ing the cor­re­spond­ing ke­tone with monochlo­racetic es­ter, in the pres­ence of sodi­um ethy­late. These es­ters on hy­drol­ysis yield the free acids, which read­ily de­com­pose, with loss of car­bon diox­ide and for­ma­tion of an alde­hyde,

/R /CRR1 /CRR1 OC< + Cl.CH2.COOC2H5 –> O< | –> O< | \R1 \CH.COOC2H5 \CH.COOH –> CO2 + CHRR1.CHO.

In the Ger­man Patent 157573 (1904) it is shown that by the ac­tion of at least two molec­ular pro­por­tions of an alkyl for­mate on two molec­ular pro­por­tions of a mag­ne­sium alkyl or aryl haloid, a com­plex ad­di­tion com­pound is formed, which read­ily de­com­pos­es in­to a ba­sic mag­ne­sium salt and an alde­hyde,

C6H5Mg­Br + HCOOR –> RO.CH.C6H5.OMg­Br –> Mg­Br.OR + C6H5CHO.

The alde­hy­des are char­ac­ter­ized by their great chem­ical re­ac­tiv­ity. They act as re­duc­ing agents, sil­ver ni­trate in the pres­ence of am­mo­nia be­ing rapid­ly re­duced to the con­di­tion of metal­lic sil­ver. They are eas­ily ox­idized to the cor­re­spond­ing fat­ty acid, in many cas­es sim­ply by ex­po­sure to air. Nascent hy­dro­gen re­duces them to pri­ma­ry al­co­hols, and phos­pho­rus pen­tachlo­ride re­places the car­bonyl oxy­gen by chlo­rine. They form many ad­di­tion com­pounds, com­bin­ing with am­mo­nia to form alde­hyde am­mo­nias of the type R.CH(OH).NH2. These are colour­less crys­talline com­pounds, which are most read­ily pre­pared by pass­ing am­mo­nia gas in­to an ethe­re­al so­lu­tion of the alde­hyde. With sodi­um bisul­phite they form the so-​called bisul­phite com­pounds R.CH(OH).SO3Na, which are read­ily re­solved in­to their com­po­nents by dis­til­la­tion with di­lute acids, and are fre­quent­ly used for the prepa­ra­tion of the pure alde­hyde.

With hy­dro­cyan­ic acid alde­hy­des form the cyan­hy­drins R.CH(OH).CN. They re­act with hy­drox­ylamine and phenyl­hy­drazine, with the for­ma­tion of al­doximes and hy­dra­zones. (For the iso­merism of the al­doximes see OXIMES.) The hy­dra­zones are crys­talline sub­stances which are of val­ue in the char­ac­ter­iza­tion of the alde­hy­des. Both oximes and hy­dra­zones, on boil­ing with di­lute acid, re­gen­er­ate the par­ent alde­hyde. The hy­dra­zones are best pre­pared by mix­ing the alde­hyde with phenyl­hy­drazine in di­lute acetic acid so­lu­tion, in the ab­sence of any free min­er­al acid. Semioxa­mazid, NH2.CO.CO.NH.NH2, has al­so been em­ployed for the iden­ti­fi­ca­tion of alde­hy­des (W. Kerp and K. Unger, Berichte, 1897, 30. p. 585). Alde­hy­des are con­vert­ed in­to resins by the ac­tion of caus­tic al­ka­lies. On heat­ing with al­co­hols to 100 deg. C. they form ac­etals, and they al­so form con­den­sa­tion prod­ucts with para-​ami­do-​di-​methyl-​ani­line (A. Calm, Berichte, 1884, 17, p. 2939). They re­act with the zinc alkyls to form ad­di­tion prod­ucts, which are de­com­posed by wa­ter with for­ma­tion of sec­ondary al­co­hols (K. Thurn­lach, An­nalen, 1882, 213, p. 369) thus:– Zn(C2H5)2 H2O /C2H5 /C2H5 CH3.CHO –> CH3.CH< –> CH3.CH< + ZnO + C2H6. \OZnC2H5 \OH The re­ac­tion is a gen­er­al one for all alde­hy­des with zinc methyl and zinc ethyl, but not with the high­er zinc alkyls. V. Grig­nard (Comptes Ren­dus, 1900 et seq.) showed that alde­hy­des com­bine with mag­ne­sium alkyl io­dides (in ab­so­lute ether so­lu­tion) to form ad­di­tion prod­ucts, which are de­com­posed by wa­ter with the for­ma­tion of sec­ondary al­co­hols, thus from ac­etalde­hyde and mag­ne­sium methyl io­dide, iso­propyl al­co­hol is ob­tained.

H2O /CH3 CH3.CHO + CH3MgI –> CH3.CH< –> (CH3)2CH.OH + MgI.OH. \OM­gI The low­er mem­bers of the aliphat­ic se­ries are char­ac­ter­ized by their pow­er of poly­mer­iza­tion (see FOR­MA­LIN, and the ac­count of Ac­etalde­hyde be­low), and al­so by the so-​called “al­dol” con­den­sa­tion, ac­etalde­hyde in this way form­ing al­dol, CH3.CHOH.CH2.CHO. These al­dols gen­er­al­ly lose the el­ements of wa­ter read­ily and pass in­to un­sat­urat­ed com­pounds; al­dol it­self on dis­til­la­tion at or­di­nary at­mo­spher­ic pres­sure gives cro­ton­alde­hyde, CH3.CH:CH.CHO.

Alde­hy­des are char­ac­ter­ized by the red­dish-​vi­olet colour which they give with a so­lu­tion of fuch­sine that has been de­col­orized by sul­phurous acid (H. Schiff, Ann., 1866, 140, p. 131). With di­azoben­zene sul­phon­ic acid in the pres­ence of al­ka­li and a trace of sodi­um amal­gam, a red­dish-​vi­olet col­oration is formed on stand­ing (E. Fis­ch­er, Ber., 1883, 16, p. 657). A. An­geli (Gazz. chim. Ital., 1896, 22, ii. 17) has shown that alde­hy­des in the pres­ence of ni­tro­hy­drox­ylaminic acid form hy­drox­am­ic acid. The alde­hy­des con­dense read­ily with ace­toacetic es­ter in the pres­ence of am­mo­nia, to pyridines (see PYRI­DINE), whilst O. Doeb­ner and W. v. Miller (Ber., 1892, 25, p. 2864; 1896, 29, p. 59) have shown that in the pres­ence of ani­line and sul­phuric acid they give sub­sti­tut­ed quino­lines. (See al­so C. Bey­er, Ber., 1887, 20, p. 1908). The chief alde­hy­des are shown in the fol­low­ing ta­ble:–

_____________________________________________________________________________ | Name. | For­mu­la | Boil­ing | Melt­ing| | | | Point. | Point.| |——————–|———————————–|———|——–| | Formalde­hyde | H.CHO |-21 deg. | | | Ac­etalde­hyde | CH3.CHO | 20.8 deg. | | | Propyl alde­hyde | CH3.CH2.CHO | 49 deg. | | | n-​Butyl ” | CH3.(CH2)2.CHO | 75 deg. | | | iso- ” ” | (CH3)2.CH.CHO | 61 deg. | | | n-​Valeryl ” | CH3.(CH2)3.CHO |103 deg. | | | iso- ” ” | (C4H9.CHO | 92 deg. | | | Oenan­thyl ” | CH3.(CH2)5.CHO |155 deg. | | | Capric ” | CH3.(CH2)8.CHO |121 deg. | | | Lau­ric ” | CH3.(CH2)10.CHO | |44.5 deg. | | Myris­tic ” | CH3.(CH2)12.CHO | |52.5 deg. | | Palmitic ” | CH3.(CH2)14.CHO | |58.5 deg. | | Stearic ” | CH3.(CH2)16.CHO | |63.5 deg. | |——————–|———————————–|———|——–| | Acrolein | | | | | al­ly alde­hyde | CH2 : CH.CHO | 52 deg. | | | Cro­ton­ic ” | CH3.CH : CH.CHO |104 deg. | | | Tiglic ” | | | | | (gua­ia­col) | CH3.CH : C.CH3.CHO |116 deg. | | |——————–|———————————–|———|——–| | Proar­gylic A. | CH : C.CHO | 59 deg. | | |——————–|———————————–|———|——–| | Ben­zalde­hyde | C6H5.CHO |179 deg. | | | {o | |200 deg. | | | Toluicalde­hyde{m | C6H4.CH3.CHO |199 deg. | | | {p | |204 deg. | | | Cumic ” | C6H4.C3H7.CHO |235 deg. | | | Cin­nam­ic ” | C6H5.CH : CH.CHO |247 deg. | | |____________________|___________________________________|_________|________|

For formalde­hyde see FOR­MA­LIN. Ac­etalde­hyde, CH3.CHO, was first no­ticed by C. Scheele in 1774 and iso­lat­ed and in­ves­ti­gat­ed by J. v. Liebig (An­nalen, 1835, 14, p. 133). It is pre­pared by ox­idiz­ing ethyl al­co­hol with di­lute sul­phuric acid and potas­si­um bichro­mate, and is a colour­less liq­uid of boil­ing point 20.8 deg. C., pos­sess­ing a pe­cu­liar char­ac­ter­is­tic smell. Its spe­cif­ic grav­ity is 0.8009 (0 deg. C.). It is mis­ci­ble in all pro­por­tions with al­co­hol, ether and wa­ter. It is read­ily poly­mer­ized, small quan­ti­ties of hy­drochlo­ric acid, zinc chlo­ride, car­bonyl chlo­ride, &c. con­vert­ing it, at or­di­nary tem­per­atures, in­to par­alde­hyde, (C2H4O)3, a liq­uid boil­ing at 124 deg. C. and of spe­cif­ic grav­ity 0.998 (15 deg. C.). Par­alde­hyde is mod­er­ate­ly sol­uble in wa­ter, and when dis­tilled with sul­phuric acid is re­con­vert­ed in­to the or­di­nary form. Met­alde­hyde, (C2H4O)3, is pro­duced in a sim­ilar way to par­alde­hyde, but at low­er tem­per­atures (e.g. in pres­ence of a freez­ing mix­ture). It is a crys­talline sol­id, which sub­limes at 112 deg. -115 deg. C. It is in­sol­uble in wa­ter, and is on­ly slight­ly sol­uble in al­co­hol and ether. When heat­ed in a sealed tube at 120 deg. C. it is com­plete­ly con­vert­ed in­to the or­di­nary form. Par­alde­hyde is ox­idized by di­lute ni­tric acid, with for­ma­tion of much gly­ox­al, (CHO)2. (For trichlo­rac­etalde­hyde see CHLO­RAL.)

By the ac­tion of ac­etalde­hyde on al­co­hol at 100 deg. C., ac­etal, CH3.CH(OC2H5)2, is pro­duced. It may al­so be pre­pared by ox­idiz­ing ethyl al­co­hol with man­ganese diox­ide and sul­phuric acid (A. Wurtz). It is a colour­less liq­uid of spe­cif­ic grav­ity 0.8314 (20 deg. /4 deg. ) (J. W. Bruhl) and boil­ing point 104 deg. C. Di­lute acids read­ily trans­form it in­to al­co­hol and alde­hyde, and chromic acid ox­idizes it to acetic acid. Chlor- and brom-​ac­etals have been de­scribed.

Thioalde­hy­des are al­so known, and are ob­tained by lead­ing sul­phuret­ted hy­dro­gen in­to an aque­ous so­lu­tion of ac­etalde­hyde. By this means a mix­ture is ob­tained which by dis­til­la­tion or the ac­tion of hy­drochlo­ric acid yields trithioalde­hyde, (C2H4S)3. For the con­sti­tu­tion of these sub­stances see E. Bau­mann and E. Fromm (Berichte, 1891, 24, p. 1426). Alde­hyde am­mo­nia, CH3.CH(OH).NH2, is formed when dry am­mo­nia gas is passed in­to an ethe­re­al so­lu­tion of ac­etalde­hyde. It crys­tal­lizes in glis­ten­ing rhom­bo­he­dra, melt­ing at 70 deg. -80 deg. C., and boil­ing at 100 deg. C. It is com­plete­ly re­solved in­to its com­po­nents when warmed with di­lute acids.

The high­er alde­hy­des of the se­ries re­sem­ble ac­etalde­hyde in their gen­er­al be­haviour. Un­sat­urat­ed alde­hy­des are al­so known, cor­re­spond­ing to the ole­fine al­co­hols; they show the char­ac­ter­is­tic prop­er­ties of the sat­urat­ed alde­hy­des and can form ad­di­tive com­pounds in virtue of their un­sat­urat­ed na­ture. The sim­plest mem­ber of the se­ries is acrolein, C3H4O or CH2 : CH.CHO, which can be pre­pared by the ox­ida­tion of al­lyl al­co­hol, or by the ab­strac­tion of the el­ements of wa­ter from glyc­erin by heat­ing it with an­hy­drous potas­si­um bisul­phate. It is al­so pro­duced by the ac­tion of sodi­um on a mix­ture of epichlorhy­drin and methyl io­dide, C3H5OCl + CH3I + 2Na = C3H4O + NaI + Na­Cl + CH4. It is a colour­less liq­uid, with a very pun­gent smell, and at­tacks the mu­cous mem­brane very rapid­ly. It boils at 52.4 deg. C. and is sol­uble in wa­ter. It ox­idizes read­ily: ex­po­sure to air giv­ing acrylic acid, ni­tric acid giv­ing ox­al­ic acid, bichro­mate of potash and sul­phuric acid giv­ing car­bon diox­ide and formic acid. It com­bines with bromine to form a di­bro­mide, from which E. Fis­ch­er, by the ac­tion of bary­ta wa­ter, ob­tained the syn­thet­ic sug­ars a- and b-​acrose (Berichte, 1889, 22, p. 360). Metacrolein, (C3H4O)3, is a poly­mer of acrolein. By pass­ing acrolein vapour in­to am­mo­nia, acrolein am­mo­nia, C6H9NO, is ob­tained. It is a red­dish amor­phous mass, in­sol­uble in al­co­hol, and when dis­tilled yields pi­co­line (methyl pyri­dine) (A. Baey­er, Ann., 1870, 155, p. 283). Cit­ronel­lal, rho­di­nal and gera­nial are al­so un­sat­urat­ed alde­hy­des (see TER­PENES.)

The aro­mat­ic alde­hy­des re­sem­ble the aliphat­ic alde­hy­des in most re­spects, but in cer­tain re­ac­tions they ex­hib­it an en­tire­ly dif­fer­ent be­haviour. They do not poly­mer­ize, and in the pres­ence of caus­tic al­ka­lies do not resini­fy, but ox­idize to al­co­hols and acids (see BEN­ZALDE­HYDE for Can­niz­zaro’s re­ac­tion). When heat­ed with al­co­holic potas­si­um cyanide they are con­vert­ed in­to ben­zoins (q.v..) Vanillin does not give the Can­niz­zaro re­ac­tion, but with al­co­holic potash forms vanil­lic acid, HOOC(1).C6H3.OCH3 (3).OH(4), and vanil­loin. With am­mo­nia, ben­zalde­hyde does not form an alde­hyde am­mo­nia, but con­dens­es to hy­droben­za­mide, ( C6H5CH)3N2, with elim­ina­tion of wa­ter. Cumic alde­hyde (cumi­nol), (CH3)2CH(1)C6H4.CHO(4), is found in Ro­man car­away oil and in oil of the wa­ter hem­lock. It is a liq­uid, boil­ing at 235 deg. C., and has a spe­cif­ic grav­ity of 0.973. On dis­til­la­tion with zinc dust it forms cymene (1.4 methyl iso­propyl ben­zene).

Sal­icylic alde­hyde (or­tho-​hy­drox­yben­zalde­hyde), HO(1). C6H4.CHO(2), an aro­mat­ic oxyalde­hyde, is a colour­less liq­uid of boil­ing point 196 deg. C. and spe­cif­ic grav­ity 1.172 (15 deg. ). It is found in the volatile oils of Spi­raea, and can be ob­tained by the ox­ida­tion of the glu­co­side salicin, (C13H18O7), which is found in wil­low bark. It is usu­al­ly pre­pared by the so-​called “Reimer” re­ac­tion (Ber., 1876, 9, p. 1268), in which chlo­ro­form acts on phe­nol in the pres­ence of a caus­tic al­ka­li,

C5H5OH + CHCl3 + 4KHO = 3KCl + 3H2O + KO.C6H4.CHO, some para-​oxy­be­nalde­hyde be­ing formed at the same time. It is volatile (para-​oxy­ben­zalde­hyde is not) and gives a vi­olet col­oration with fer­ric chlo­ride. For dioxy­ben­zalde­hy­des and their deriva­tives see PIPER­ONAL and VANILLIN.

Cin­nam­ic alde­hyde (b-​phenyl acrolein), C6H5.CH : CH.CHO, an un­sat­urat­ed aro­mat­ic alde­hyde, is the chief con­stituent of cin­na­mon oil. It is pre­pared by ox­idiz­ing cin­namyl al­co­hol, or by the ac­tion of sodi­um ethy­late on a mix­ture of ben­zalde­hyde and ac­etalde­hyde. It is a colour­less aro­mat­ic-​smelling oily liq­uid, which boils at 247 deg. C. and read­ily ox­idizes on ex­po­sure.

By con­den­sa­tion of alde­hy­des with pyru­vic acid and naph­thy­lamines, the a-​alkyl-​naph­tho­quino­line-​g-​car­boxylic acids are pro­duced; the same re­ac­tion takes place with the aro­mat­ic amines gen­er­al­ly (O. Doeb­ner, Ann. 1804, 281, p. 1),

COOH | / \ COOH / \ / \ | | + | + R.CHO = | | | + 2H2O + 2H. \ / \NH2 CO.CH3 \ / \N/ \R

ALDEN, JOHN (1599?-1687), one of the “Pil­grims” who in 1620 em­igrat­ed to Amer­ica on the “Mayflow­er” and found­ed the Ply­mouth Colony. Ac­cord­ing to William Brad­ford’s His­to­ry of the Plimoth Plan­ta­tion, he was hired as a coop­er at Southamp­ton, “where the ship vic­tuled,” just be­fore the voy­age, “and be­ing a hop­full yong man, was much de­sired.” He was one of the first set­tlers of Duxbury, Mas­sachusetts, where he lived dur­ing the greater part of his life, and from 1633 un­til 1675 he was an “As­sis­tant” to the gov­er­nor of the colony, fre­quent­ly serv­ing as act­ing gov­er­nor. At the time of his death, at Duxbury, on the 12th of Septem­ber 1687, he was the last male sur­vivor of the sign­ers of the “Mayflow­er Com­pact” of 1620, and with the ex­cep­tion of Mary Aller­ton was the last sur­vivor of the “Mayflow­er” com­pa­ny. He is re­mem­bered chiefly be­cause of a pop­ular leg­end, put in­to verse as The Courtship of Miles Stan­dish by Hen­ry W. Longfel­low, con­cern­ing his courtship of Priscil­la Mullins, whom he mar­ried in 1623, af­ter hav­ing wooed her first on be­half of his friend, Miles Stan­dish.

ALDER, a genus of plants (Al­nus) be­long­ing to the or­der Be­tu­laceae, the best-​known of which is the com­mon alder (A. gluti­nosa.) The genus com­pris­es a few species of shrubs or trees, sel­dom reach­ing a large size, dis­tribut­ed through the North Tem­per­ate zone, and in the New World pass­ing along the An­des south­wards to Chile. The British species A. gluti­nosa is con­fined to the Old World. This tree thrives best in moist soils, has a shrub­by ap­pear­ance, and grows un­der favourable cir­cum­stances to a height of 40 or 50 ft. It is char­ac­ter­ized by its short-​stalked roundish leaves, be­com­ing wedge-​shaped at the base and with a slight­ly toothed mar­gin. When young they are some­what gluti­nous, whence the spe­cif­ic name, be­com­ing lat­er a dark olive green. As with oth­er plants grow­ing near wa­ter it keeps its leaves longer than do trees in dri­er sit­ua­tions, and the glossy green fo­liage last­ing af­ter oth­er trees have put on the red or brown of au­tumn ren­ders it valu­able for land­scape ef­fect. The stout cylin­dri­cal male catkins are pen­du­lous, red­dish in colour and 2 to 4 in. long; the fe­male are small­er, less than an inch in length and red­dish-​brown in colour, sug­gest­ing young fir-​cones. When the small winged fruits have been scat­tered the ripe, woody, black­ish cones re­main, of­ten last­ing through the win­ter. The alder is read­ily prop­agat­ed by seeds, but throws up root-​suck­ers abun­dant­ly. It is im­por­tant as cop­pice-​wood on marshy ground. The wood is soft, white when first cut and turn­ing to pale red; the knots are beau­ti­ful­ly mot­tled. Un­der wa­ter the wood is very durable, and it is there­fore used for piles. The sup­ports of the Ri­al­to at Venice, and many build­ings at Am­ster­dam, are of alder-​wood. Fur­ni­ture is some­times made from the wood, and it sup­plies ex­cel­lent char­coal for gun­pow­der. The bark is as­trin­gent; it is used for tan­ning and dye­ing.

ALDER-​FLY, the name giv­en to neu­ropter­ous in­sects of the fam­ily Sial­idae, re­lat­ed to the ant-​li­ons, with long fil­amen­tous an­ten­nae and four large wings, of which the an­te­ri­or pair is rather longer than the pos­te­ri­or. The fe­males lay a vast num­ber of eggs up­on grass stems near wa­ter. The lar­vae are aquat­ic, ac­tive, armed with strong sharp mandibles, and breathe by means of sev­en pairs of ab­dom­inal branchial fil­aments. When full sized they leave the wa­ter and spend a qui­es­cent pu­pal stage on the land be­fore meta­mor­pho­sis in­to the sex­ual­ly ma­ture in­sect. Sialis lu­taria is a well-​known British ex­am­ple. In Amer­ica there are two gen­era, Cory­dalis and Chauliodes, which are re­mark­able for their rel­ative­ly gi­gan­tic size and for the im­mense length and sabre-​like shape of the mandibles.

AL­DER­MAN (from A.-S. eal­dor­man, com­pound­ed of the com­par­ative de­gree of the ad­jec­tive eald, old, and man), a term im­ply­ing the pos­ses­sion of an of­fice of rank or dig­ni­ty, and, in mod­ern times, ap­plied to an of­fice-​bear­er in the mu­nic­ipal cor­po­ra­tions and coun­ty coun­cils of Eng­land and Wales,and in the mu­nic­ipal cor­po­ra­tions of Ire­land and the Unit­ed States. Among the An­glo-​Sax­ons, earls, gov­er­nors of provinces and oth­er per­sons of dis­tinc­tion re­ceived this ti­tle. Thus we read of the al­der­man­nus totius An­gli­ae, who seems to have cor­re­spond­ed to the of­fi­cer af­ter­wards styled cap­ital­is jus­ti­cia­rius An­gli­ae, or chief-​jus­tice of Eng­land; the al­der­man­nus reg­is, prob­ably an oc­ca­sion­al mag­is­trate, an­swer­ing to the mod­ern jus­tice of as­size, or per­haps an of­fi­cer whose du­ty it was to pros­ecute for the crown; and al­der­man­nus comi­ta­tus, a mag­is­trate with a mid­dle rank be­tween what was af­ter­wards called the earl and the sher­iff, who sat at the tri­al of caus­es with the bish­op and de­clared the com­mon law, while the bish­op pro­ceed­ed ac­cord­ing to ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal law. Be­sides these, we meet with the ti­tles of al­der­man­nus civ­itatis, bur­gi, castel­li, hun­dre­di sive wapen­tachii, &c. In Eng­land, be­fore the pass­ing of the Mu­nic­ipal Cor­po­ra­tions Act, their func­tions var­ied ac­cord­ing to the char­ters of the dif­fer­ent bor­oughs. By the Mu­nic­ipal Cor­po­ra­tions Act 1835, and oth­er acts, con­sol­idat­ed by the Mu­nic­ipal Cor­po­ra­tions Act 1882, the al­der­men are elect­ed by the coun­cil­lors for six years, one-​half go­ing out ev­ery three years. The num­ber of coun­cil­lors in each bor­ough varies ac­cord­ing to its mag­ni­tude. One-​fourth of the mu­nic­ipal coun­cil con­sists of al­der­men and three-​fourths of coun­cil­lors. In the coun­ties, too, the num­ber of al­der­men is one-​third of the num­ber of coun­cil­lors, ex­cept in Lon­don, where it is one-​sixth. In the mu­nic­ipal cor­po­ra­tions of Scot­land there is no such ti­tle as al­der­man, the of­fice-​bear­ers of cor­re­spond­ing rank there be­ing termed bailies. The cor­po­ra­tion of the city of Lon­don was not in­clud­ed in the Bor­ough Re­form Act, and the an­ti­quat­ed sys­tem re­mains there in full force. The court of al­der­men con­sists of twen­ty-​six, twen­ty-​five of whom are elect­ed for life by the freemen of the re­spec­tive wards, who re­turn two per­sons, one of whom the court of al­der­men elect to sup­ply the va­can­cy. The city is di­vid­ed in­to twen­ty-​six wards; twen­ty-​four of these send up one al­der­man each, the oth­er two com­bine to choose a twen­ty-​fifth. The twen­ty-​sixth al­der­man serves for the in­de­pen­dent bor­ough of South­wark (q.v.) and is ap­point­ed by the oth­er al­der­men, who gen­er­al­ly se­lect the se­nior from among them­selves when a va­can­cy oc­curs. The lord may­or is elect­ed from such of the al­der­men as have served the of­fice of sher­iff; of these the Com­mon Hall, which con­sists of the freemen of the dif­fer­ent wards, se­lect two, and the al­der­men elect one of these to the may­oral­ty. The court of al­der­men has the pow­er of ap­point­ment to cer­tain of­fices, ex­er­cis­es ju­di­cial func­tions in re­gard to li­cens­ing and in dis­putes con­nect­ed with the ward elec­tion, has some pow­er of dis­pos­al over the city cash and pos­sess­es mag­is­te­ri­al con­trol over the city, each al­der­man be­ing a judge and mag­is­trate for the whole city, and by virtue of his of­fice ex­er­cis­ing the func­tions of a jus­tice of the peace. The al­der­men are mem­bers of the court of com­mon coun­cil, the leg­isla­tive body of the cor­po­ra­tion, which con­sists in all of 232 mem­bers, the re­main­der be­ing elect­ed an­nu­al­ly by the freemen. In the Unit­ed States al­der­men form as a rule a leg­isla­tive rather than a ju­di­cial body, al­though in some cities they hold courts and pos­sess very con­sid­er­able mag­is­te­ri­al pow­ers.

ALDER­NEY (Fr. Au­rigny), one of the Chan­nel Is­lands, the north­ern­most of the prin­ci­pal mem­bers of the group, be­long­ing to Eng­land. It lies in 49 deg. 43′ N. and 2 deg. 12′ W., 9 m. W. of Cape La Hague on the coast of Nor­mandy. The har­bour, on the north coast in the bay of Braye, is 25 m. from St Pe­ter Port, Guernsey, by way of which out­er com­mu­ni­ca­tions are prin­ci­pal­ly car­ried on, and 55 m. S. by E. of Port­land Bill, the near­est point of Eng­land. The length of the is­land from N. E. to S. W. is 3 1/2 m., its av­er­age breadth 1 m., its area 1962 acres, and its pop­ula­tion (1901) 2062.

The strait be­tween the is­land and Cape La Hague, called the Race of Alder­ney (French Raz Blan­chard), con­fined by nu­mer­ous rocks and reefs off ei­ther coast, is ren­dered very dan­ger­ous in stormy weath­er by con­flict­ing cur­rents. Through this dif­fi­cult chan­nel the scat­tered rem­nant of the French fleet un­der Tourville es­caped af­ter the de­feat of La Hogue in 1692. To the west is the nar­row­er and al­so dan­ger­ous chan­nel of the Swinge (Sinige), be­tween Alder­ney and the un­in­hab­it­ed islets of Burhou, Or­tach and oth­ers. West of these again are the Cas­quets, a group of rocks to which at­tach­es a long record of ship­wreck. Rocks and reefs fringe all the coasts of Alder­ney. The is­land it­self is a lev­el open table­land, which on the south-​west and south falls abrupt­ly to the sea in a ma­jes­tic se­ries of cliffs. The great­est el­eva­tion of the land is about 300 ft. To­wards the north-​west, north and east the less rocky coast is in­dent­ed by sev­er­al bays, with open sandy shores, of which those of Crab­by, Brave, Cor­blets and Longy are the most note­wor­thy. South-​west of Longy Bay, where the coast ris­es bold­ly, there is a re­mark­able pro­ject­ing block of sand­stone, called La Roche Pen­dante (Hang­ing Rock) over­hang­ing the cliff. Sand­stone (main­ly along the north-​east coast), gran­ite and por­phyry are the chief ge­olog­ical for­ma­tions. There are a few streams, but wa­ter is ob­tained main­ly from wells. Trees are scarce. The town of St Anne stands al­most in the cen­tre of the is­land over­look­ing and ex­tend­ing to­wards the har­bour. Here are the court­house, a gate­way com­mem­orat­ing Al­bert, prince-​con­sort, the clock tow­er, which be­longed to the an­cient parish church, and the mod­ern church (1850), in Ear­ly En­glish style, an ex­cel­lent ex­am­ple of the work of Sir Gilbert Scott. The church is a memo­ri­al to the fam­ily of Le Mesuri­er, in which the hered­itary gov­er­nor­ship of the is­land was vest­ed un­til the abo­li­tion of the of­fice in 1825. There is a chain of forts round the north coast from Clanque Fort on the west to Fort Es­sex on the east; the largest is Fort Al­bert, above Brave Bay. In 1847 work was be­gun on a great break­wa­ter west of the har­bour, the in­ten­tion be­ing to pro­vide a har­bour of refuge, but al­though a sum ex­ceed­ing one and a half mil­lion ster­ling was spent the scheme was un­suc­cess­ful. The soil of Alder­ney is light, fer­tile and well cul­ti­vat­ed; grain and veg­eta­bles are grown and ear­ly pota­toes are ex­port­ed. A large part of the is­land is un­der grass, af­ford­ing pas­ture for cat­tle. The well-​known term “Alder­ney cat­tle,” how­ev­er, has lost in great mea­sure its for­mer sig­ni­fi­ca­tion of a dis­tinc­tive breed. Alder­ney is in­clud­ed in the baili­wick of Guernsey. It has a court con­sist­ing of a judge and six ju­rats, at­tor­ney-​gen­er­al, pre­vot, gr­effiero and ser­gent; but as a ju­di­cial court it is sub­or­di­nate to that of Guernsey, and its ad­min­is­tra­tive pow­ers are lim­it­ed to such mat­ters as the up­keep of roads.

For its re­la­tions to the con­sti­tu­tion of the baili­wick, and for the his­to­ry of the is­land, see CHAN­NEL IS­LANDS.

ALDER­SHOT, an ur­ban dis­trict in the Bas­ingstoke par­lia­men­tary di­vi­sion of Hamp­shire, Eng­land, 34 m. S.W. by W. of Lon­don, on the Lon­don & South-​West­ern and the South- East­ern & Chatham rail­ways. It was a mere vil­lage till 1855, when Alder­shot camp was es­tab­lished. Pop. (1891) 25,595; (1901) 30,974. Its germ is to be found in the tem­po­rary camp on Chob­ham Ridges, formed in 1853 by Lord Hardinge, the com­man­der-​in-​chief, the suc­cess of which con­vinced him of the ne­ces­si­ty of giv­ing troops prac­ti­cal in­struc­tion in the field and af­ford­ing the gen­er­als op­por­tu­ni­ties of ma­noeu­vring large bod­ies of the three arms. He there­fore ad­vised the pur­chase of a tract of waste land where­on a per­ma­nent camp might be es­tab­lished. His choice fell on Alder­shot, a spot al­so rec­om­mend­ed by strate­gic rea­sons, be­ing sit­uat­ed on the flank of any army ad­vanc­ing up­on Lon­don from the south. Noth­ing came of Lord Hardinge’s pro­pos­al till the ex­pe­ri­ence of the Crimean cam­paign ful­ly en­dorsed his opin­ion. The lands at Alder­shot, an ex­ten­sive open heath coun­try, sparse­ly dot­ted by fir-​woods and in­ter­sect­ed by the Bas­ingstoke canal, were then ac­quired by the crown. Wood­en huts were erect­ed in 1855, and per­ma­nent build­ings to re­place them were be­gun in 1881. Un­der the Bar­racks Act 1890, and the Mil­itary Works Act of 1897 and 1899, large sums were pro­vid­ed for com­plet­ing the work. The for­mer di­vi­sion of North and South camps and per­ma­nent bar­racks no longer ob­tains. North camp is now named Marl­bor­ough Lines, with a field ar­tillery bar­rack and five in­fantry bar­racks called af­ter Marl­bor­ough’s vic­to­ries. South camp is now named Stan­hope Lines, af­ter Mr Stan­hope, who was sec­re­tary of state for war when the Bar­racks Act 1890 was passed and the re­con­struc­tion com­menced in earnest. They con­tain bar­racks for the Roy­al En­gi­neers and Army Ser­vice Corps, the gen­er­al pa­rade, which stretch­es east and west, and five in­fantry bar­racks called af­ter bat­tles (oth­er than those of Welling­ton), of the wars with France, 1793-1815. There are al­so bar­racks for the Roy­al Army Med­ical Corps. The old per­ma­nent bar­racks (which were built for the most part about 1857) have been re­named Welling­ton Lines, with cav­al­ry and ar­tillery bar­racks; and three in­fantry bar­racks called af­ter Welling­ton’s vic­to­ries in the Penin­su­la. For the sick there are the Con­naught Hos­pi­tal in the Marl­bor­ough Lines, the Cam­bridge Hos­pi­tal in Stan­hope Lines, and the Union Hos­pi­tal in Welling­ton Lines, be­sides the Louise Mar­garet Hos­pi­tal for wom­en and chil­dren and the iso­lat­ed in­fec­tion hos­pi­tal.

The drainage of the sta­tion is all mod­ern, and the sewage is dis­posed of on a sewage farm un­der the di­rec­tion of the war de­part­ment. The wa­ter sup­ply is part­ly from the Alder­shot Wa­ter Com­pa­ny, and part­ly from springs and reser­voirs col­lect­ing wa­ter from a re­served area of war de­part­ment prop­er­ty.

Most of the bar­racks can ac­com­mo­date not on­ly the units they are con­struct­ed for, but al­so de­tach­ments go­ing through cours­es of in­struc­tion. The to­tal of men, wom­en and chil­dren for whom quar­ters are pro­vid­ed is at times as high as 24,000.

Be­sides the reg­imen­tal build­ings there are a large num­ber of build­ings for gar­ri­son pur­pos­es, such as quar­ters and of­fices for gen­er­al, staff and de­part­men­tal of­fi­cers, with the war­rant and non-​com­mis­sioned of­fi­cers em­ployed un­der them; the sup­ply de­pot with abat­toir and bak­ery; the ord­nance stores; bar­rack stores for fur­ni­ture and bed­ding, shops and stores for R. E. ser­vices; the bal­loon es­tab­lish­ment; the de­ten­tion bar­racks; fire brigade sta­tions; five church­es; recre­ation grounds for of­fi­cers and men; schools; and es­pe­cial­ly the mil­itary tech­ni­cal schools of army cook­ing, gym­nas­tics, sig­nalling, bal­loon­ing and of mount­ed in­fantry, Army Ser­vice Corps, Roy­al Army Med­ical Corps and vet­eri­nary du­ties. The work of these schools is, how­ev­er, on­ly a small part of the mil­itary train­ing af­ford­ed at Alder­shot; of greater im­por­tance is the field and mus­ketry train­ing, for the car­ry­ing out of which a con­sid­er­able ex­tent of land is es­sen­tial. The land re­quired for these pur­pos­es ex­tends at present over an area about 9 1/4 m. in ex­treme length by 7 3/4 m. in ex­treme width. In ad­di­tion to this there is the land at Sand­hurst and the Staff Col­lege (Cam­ber­ley) about 6 1/2 m. dis­tant, and at Woolmer For­est, 12 m. dis­tant. The mus­ketry prac­tice of the troops at Alder­shot is car­ried out at the Ash ranges, 2 m. east of the bar­racks, while the Pir­bright ranges, along­side those of the Na­tion­al Ri­fle As­so­ci­ation at Bis­ley, are uti­lized by the House­hold Cav­al­ry and Guards, who are en­camped there in suc­ces­sion. Suit­able grounds in the vicin­ity of the bar­racks, of which Cae­sar’s Camp, the Long Val­ley and Laf­fan’s Plain are best known, are uti­lized for com­pa­ny, bat­tal­ion and brigade train­ing of in­fantry, while the mount­ed branch­es work over a wider area, and the en­gi­neers car­ry out their prac­tices where most con­ve­nient. For the field-​days of the com­bined arms, the whole of the war de­part­ment prop­er­ty is avail­able. Alder­shot is the head­quar­ters of the “Alder­shot Army Corps,” which is the largest or­ga­nized force main­tained in the Unit­ed King­dom.

Be­sides the troops in bar­racks, dur­ing the drill sea­son there is of­ten a con­sid­er­able force in camp, both reg­ular troops from oth­er sta­tions and mili­tia and vol­un­teer units, so that, in­clud­ing the reg­ular gar­ri­son, some­times as many as 40,000 troops have been con­cen­trat­ed at the sta­tion for train­ing and ma­noeu­vres.

ALD­HELM (c. 640-709), bish­op of Sher­borne, En­glish schol­ar, was born be­fore the mid­dle of the 7th cen­tu­ry. He is said to have been the son of Ken­ten, who was of the roy­al house of Wes­sex, but who was cer­tain­ly not, as Ald­helm’s ear­ly bi­og­ra­pher Far­itius as­serts, the broth­er of King Ine. He re­ceived his first ed­uca­tion in the school of an Irish schol­ar and monk, Mail­dulf, Mael­dubh or Mel­dun (d. c. 675), who had set­tled in the British stronghold of Bladon or Blad­ow on the site of the town called Mail­du­beri, Mal­dubes­burg, Mel­dunes­burg, &c., and fi­nal­ly Malmes­bury,1 af­ter him. In 668 Pope Vi­tal­ian sent Theodore of Tar­sus to be arch­bish­op of Can­ter­bury, and about the same time came the African schol­ar Hadri­an, who be­came ab­bot of St Au­gus­tine’s at Can­ter­bury. Ald­helm was one of his dis­ci­ples, for he ad­dress­es him as the “ven­er­able pre­cep­tor of my rude child­hood.” He must, nev­er­the­less, have been thir­ty years of age when he be­gan to study with Hadri­an. His stud­ies in­clud­ed Ro­man law, as­tron­omy, as­trol­ogy, the art of reck­on­ing and the dif­fi­cul­ties of the cal­en­dar. He learned, ac­cord­ing to the doubt­ful state­ments of the ear­ly lives, both Greek and He­brew. He cer­tain­ly in­tro­duces many La­tinized Greek words in­to his works. Ill-​health com­pelled him to leave Can­ter­bury, and he re­turned to Malmes­bury, where he was a monk un­der Mail­dulf for four­teen years, dat­ing prob­ably from 661, and in­clud­ing the pe­ri­od of his stud­ies with Hadri­an. When Mail­dulf died, Ald­helm was ap­point­ed in 675, ac­cord­ing to a char­ter of doubt­ful au­then­tic­ity cit­ed by William of Malmes­bury, by Leutherius, bish­op of Dorch­ester from 671 to 676, to suc­ceed to the di­rec­tion of the monastery, of which he be­came the first ab­bot. He in­tro­duced the Bene­dic­tine rule, and se­cured the right of the elec­tion of the ab­bot to the monks them­selves. The com­mu­ni­ty at Malmes­bury in­creased, and Ald­helm was able to found two oth­er monas­ter­ies to be cen­tres of learn­ing at Frome and at Brad­ford on Avon. The lit­tle church of St Lawrence at Brad­ford dates back to his time and may safe­ly be re­gard­ed as his. At Malmes­bury he built a new church to re­place Mail­dulf’s mod­est build­ing, and ob­tained con­sid­er­able grants of land for the monastery. His fame as a schol­ar rapid­ly spread in­to oth­er coun­tries. Artwil, the son of an Irish king, sub­mit­ted his writ­ings for Ald­helm’s ap­proval, and Cel­lanus, an Irish monk from Per­onne, was one of his cor­re­spon­dents. Ald­helm was the first En­glish­man, so far as we know, to write in Latin verse, and his let­ter to Acir­cius (Ald­frith or Ead­frith, king of Northum­bria) is a trea­tise on Latin prosody for the use of his coun­try­men. In this work he in­clud­ed his most fa­mous pro­duc­tions, 101 rid­dles in Latin hex­am­eters. Each of them is a com­plete pic­ture, and one of them runs to 83 lines. That his mer­its as a schol­ar were ear­ly rec­og­nized in his own coun­try is shown by the en­comi­um of Be­de (Ec­cl. Hist. v. 18), who speaks of him as a won­der of eru­di­tion. His fame reached Italy, and at the re­quest of Pope Sergius I. (687-701) he paid a vis­it to Rome, of which, how­ev­er, there is no no­tice in his ex­tant writ­ings. On his re­turn, bring­ing with him priv­ileges for his monastery and a mag­nif­icent al­tar, he re­ceived a pop­ular ova­tion. He was de­put­ed by a syn­od of the church in Wes­sex to re­mon­strate with the Britons of Dom­non­ia (De­von and Corn­wall) on their dif­fer­ences from the Ro­man prac­tice in the shape of the ton­sure and the date of East­er. This he did in a long and rather ac­ri­mo­nious let­ter to their king Geraint (Gerun­tius), and their ul­ti­mate agree­ment with Rome is re­ferred by William of Malmes­bury to his ef­forts. In 705, or per­haps ear­li­er, Haed­di, bish­op of Winch­ester, died, and the dio­cese was di­vid­ed in­to two parts. Sher­borne was the new see, of which Ald­helm re­luc­tant­ly be­came the first bish­op. He wished to re­sign the abbey of Malmes­bury which he had gov­erned for thir­ty years, but yield­ing to the re­mon­strances of the monks he con­tin­ued to di­rect it un­til his death. He was now an old man, but he showed great ac­tiv­ity in his new func­tions. The cathe­dral church which he built at Sher­borne, though re­placed lat­er by a Nor­man church, is de­scribed by William of Malmes­bury. He was on his rounds in his dio­cese when he died in the church of Doult­ing on the 25th of May 709. The body was tak­en to Malmes­bury, and cross­es were set up by the pi­ous care of his friend, Bish­op Ecg­wine of Worces­ter, at the var­ious halt­ing- places. He was buried in the church of St Michael. His bi­og­ra­phers re­late mir­acles due to his sanc­ti­ty worked dur­ing his life­time and at his shrine.

Ald­helm wrote po­et­ry in An­glo-​Sax­on al­so, and set his own com­po­si­tions to mu­sic, but none of his songs, which were still pop­ular in the time of Al­fred, have come down to us. Find­ing his peo­ple slow to come to church, he is said to have stood at the end of a bridge singing songs in the ver­nac­ular, thus col­lect­ing a crowd to lis­ten to ex­hor­ta­tions on sa­cred sub­jects. Ald­helm wrote in elab­orate and grandil­oquent Latin, which soon came to be re­gard­ed as bar­barous. Much ad­mired as he was by his con­tem­po­raries, his fame as a schol­ar there­fore soon de­clined, but his rep­uta­tion as a pi­oneer in Latin schol­ar­ship in Eng­land and as a teach­er re­mains.

Ald­helm’s works were col­lect­ed in J. A. Giles’s Pa­tres ec­cl. An­gl. (Ox­ford, 1844), and reprint­ed by J. P. Migne in his Pa­trolo­giae Cur­sus, vol. 89 (1850). The let­ter to Geraint, king of Dom­non­ia, was sup­posed to have been de­stroyed by the Britons (W. of Malmes­bury, Ges­ta Pon­tif­icum, p. 361), but was dis­cov­ered with oth­ers of Ald­helm’s in the cor­re­spon­dence of St Boni­face, arch­bish­op of Mainz. A long let­ter to Eah­frid, a schol­ar just re­turned from Ire­land (first print­ed in Usserii Veterum Epistt. Hi­ber. Syl­loge, 1632), is of in­ter­est as cast­ing light on the re­la­tions be­tween En­glish and Irish schol­ars. Next to the rid­dles, Ald­helm’s best-​known work is De Laude Vir­gini­tatis sive de Vir­gini­tate Sanc­to­rum, a Latin trea­tise ad­dressed about 705 to the nuns of Bark­ing,2 in which he com­mem­orates a great num­ber of saints. This was af­ter­wards turned by Ald­helm in­to Latin verse (print­ed by Del­rio, Mainz, 1601). The chief source of his Epis­to­la ad Acir­ci­um sive liber de septe­nario, et de metris, aenig­mat­ibus ac pe­dum reg­ulis (ed. A. Mai, Class. Auct. vol. v.) is Priscian. For the rid­dles in­clud­ed in it, his mod­el was the col­lec­tion known as Sym­posii aenig­ma­ta. The acros­tic in­tro­duc­tion gives the sen­tence, “Ald­hel­mus cecinit mil­le­nis versibus odas,” whether read from the ini­tial or fi­nal let­ters of the lines. His Latin po­ems in­clude one on the ded­ica­tion of a basil­ica built by Bugge (or Ead­bur­ga), a roy­al la­dy of the house of Wes­sex.

AU­THOR­ITIES.–Far­itius (d. 1117), an Ital­ian monk of Malmes­bury, af­ter­wards ab­bot of Abing­don, wrote a Vi­ta S. Ald­hel­mi (MS. Cot­ton, Fausti­na, B. 4), print­ed by Giles and Migne, al­so in Orig­inal Lives of An­glo-​Sax­ons (Cax­ton Soc., 1834); but the best au­thor­ity is William of Malmes­bury, who in the fifth book, de­vot­ed to St Ald­helm, of the Ges­ta Pon­tif­icum pro­pos­es to fill up the out­line of Far­itius, us­ing the church records, the tra­di­tions of Ald­helm’s mir­acles pre­served by the monks of Malmes­bury, and the lost “Hand­boc” or com­mon­place book of King Al­fred. His nar­ra­tive is di­vid­ed in­to four parts: the birth and at­tain­ments of Ald­helm, the re­li­gious hous­es he had es­tab­lished and en­dowed, the mir­acles record­ed of him, and the his­to­ry of the abbey down to the writ­er’s own time (see De Gestis Pon­tif­icum, ed. N. E. S. A. Hamil­ton, 1870, for the Rolls Se­ries. pp. 330-443). The life by John Cap­grave in his Leg­en­da No­va (1516) is chiefly an abridg­ment of Malmes­bury’s nar­ra­tive. Con­sult al­so L. Bon­hoff, Ald­helm von Malmes­bury (Dres­den, 1894); T. D. Hardy. De­scrip­tive Cat­alogue (1862), vol. i. pp. 389-396; T. Wright, Biog. Brit. Lit. (A.-S. Pe­ri­od, 1842); G. F. Browne, bish­op of Bris­tol, St Ald­helm; his Life and Times (1903); and W. B. Wild­man, Life of S. Eald­helm, frst Bish­op of Sher­borne (1905), con­tain­ing many in­ter­est­ing lo­cal de­tails. For some po­ems at­tribut­ed to Ald­helm, and print­ed in Dumm­ler’s edi­tion of the let­ters of St Boni­face and Lul in Mon­umen­ta Ger­ma­ni­ae His­tor­ica (epistt. tom. iii.), see H. Bradley in Eng. Hist. Re­view, xv. p. 291 (1900), where they are at­tribut­ed to Ald­helm’s dis­ci­ple AEthilwald. The very var­ied sources and the chronol­ogy of Ald­helm’s work are dis­cussed in “Zu Ald­helm und Bae­da,” by Max Man­itius, in Sitzungs­berichte der kaiser­lichen Akad. der Wis­senschaften (Vi­en­na, 1886).

An ex­cel­lent ac­count of his ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal im­por­tance is giv­en by W. Bright in Chap­ters on Ear­ly En­glish Church His­to­ry (Ox­ford, 1878). For his po­si­tion as a writ­er of Latin verse con­sult A. Ebert, All­ge­meine Geschichte d. Lit­er­atur des Mit­te­lal­ters im Abend­lande, vol. i. new edi­tion (1889); M. Man­itius, Geschichte der christlich- lateinis­chen Poe­sie &c. (Stuttgart, 1891), pp. 487-496; al­so H. Hahn, Boni­faz und Lul ihre an­gel­sach­sis­chen Ko­rre­spon­den­ten, chap. i. (Leipzig, 1883). The two last-​named works con­tain many fur­ther bib­li­ograph­ical ref­er­ences.

1 For the dis­put­ed et­ymol­ogy of Malmes­bury, which some con­nect with Ald­helm’s name, see Bish­op Browne, St Ald­he­lin: his Life and Times, p. 73.

2 Cuth­bur­ga, sis­ter of King Ine of Wes­sex, and there­fore re­lat­ed to And­helm, left her hus­band Ald­frith, king of Northum­bria, to en­ter the nun­nery at Bark­ing. She af­ter­wards found­ed the nun­nery of Wim­borne, of which she be­came abbess.

AL­DINE PRESS, the print­ing of­fice start­ed by Al­dus Manu­tius at the end of the 15th cen­tu­ry in Venice, from which were is­sued the cel­ebrat­ed Al­dine edi­tions of the clas­sics of that time. (See MANU­TIUS.) The Al­dine Press is fa­mous in the his­to­ry of ty­pog­ra­phy (q.v.), among oth­er things, for the in­tro­duc­tion of ital­ics.

AL­DI­NI, GIO­VAN­NI (1762–1834), Ital­ian physi­cist, born at Bologna on the 10th of April 1762, was a broth­er of the states­man Count An­to­nio Al­di­ni (1756-1826) and nephew of L. Gal­vani, whose trea­tise on mus­cu­lar elec­tric­ity he edit­ed with notes in 1791. He be­came pro­fes­sor of physics at Bologna in 1798, in suc­ces­sion to his teach­er Se­bas­tiano Can­terzani (1734-1819). His sci­en­tif­ic work was chiefly con­cerned with gal­vanism and its med­ical ap­pli­ca­tions, with the con­struc­tion and il­lu­mi­na­tion of light­hous­es, and with ex­per­iments for pre­serv­ing hu­man life and ma­te­ri­al ob­jects from de­struc­tion by fire. He wrote in French and En­glish in ad­di­tion to his na­tive Ital­ian. In recog­ni­tion of his mer­its, the em­per­or of Aus­tria made him a knight of the Iron Crown and a coun­cil­lor of state at Mi­lan, where he died on the 17th of Jan­uary 1834. He left by will a con­sid­er­able sum to found a school of nat­ural sci­ence for ar­ti­sans at Bologna.

AL­DRED, or EAL­DRED (d. 1069), En­glish ec­cle­si­as­tic, be­came ab­bot of Tavi­stock about 1027, in 1044 was made bish­op of Worces­ter, and in 1060 arch­bish­op of York. He had con­sid­er­able in­flu­ence over King Ed­ward the Con­fes­sor, and as his in­ter­ests were sec­ular rather than re­li­gious he took a promi­nent part in af­fairs of state, and in 1046 led an un­suc­cess­ful ex­pe­di­tion against the Welsh. In 1050 he was large­ly in­stru­men­tal in restor­ing Sweyn, the son of Earl God­win, to his earl­dom, and about the same time went to Rome “on the king’s er­rand.” In 1054 he was sent to the em­per­or Hen­ry III. to ob­tain that monarch’s in­flu­ence in se­cur­ing the re­turn to Eng­land of Ed­ward, son of Ed­mund Iron­side, who was in Hun­gary with King An­drew I. In this mis­sion he was suc­cess­ful and ob­tained some in­sight in­to the work­ing of the Ger­man church dur­ing a stay of a year with Her­mann II., arch­bish­op of Cologne. Af­ter his re­turn to Eng­land he took charge of the sees of Here­ford and Rams­bury, al­though not ap­point­ed to these bish­oprics; and in 1058 made a pil­grim­age to Jerusalem, be­ing the first En­glish bish­op to take this jour­ney. Hav­ing pre­vi­ous­ly giv­en up Here­ford and Rams­bury, Al­dred was elect­ed arch­bish­op of York in 1060, and in 1061 he pro­ceed­ed to Rome to re­ceive the pal­li­um. On his ar­rival there, how­ev­er, var­ious charges were brought against him by a syn­od, and Pope Nicholas II. not on­ly re­fused his re­quest but de­grad­ed him from the epis­co­pate. The sen­tence was, how­ev­er, sub­se­quent­ly re­versed, and Al­dred re­ceived the pal­li­um and was re­stored to his for­mer sta­tion. It is stat­ed by Flo­rence of Worces­ter that Al­dred crowned King Harold II. in 1066, al­though the Nor­man au­thor­ities men­tion Sti­gand as the of­fi­ci­at­ing prelate. Af­ter the bat­tle of Hast­ings Al­dred joined the par­ty who sought to be­stow the throne up­on Edgar the AEtheling, but when these ef­forts ap­peared hope­less he was among those who sub­mit­ted to William the Con­queror at Berkhamp­stead. Se­lect­ed to crown the new king he per­formed the cer­emo­ny on Christ­mas Day 1066, and in 1068 per­formed the same of­fice at the coro­na­tion of Matil­da, the Con­queror’s wife. But though of­ten at court, he seems to have been no sym­pa­this­er with Nor­man op­pres­sion, and is even said to have beard­ed the king him­self. He died at York on the 11th of Septem­ber 1069 and was buried in his own cathe­dral. Al­dred did much for the restora­tion of dis­ci­pline in the monas­ter­ies and church­es un­der his au­thor­ity, and was lib­er­al in his gifts for ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal pur­pos­es. He built the monas­tic church of St Pe­ter at Glouces­ter, and re­built a large part of that of St John at Bev­er­ley. At his in­sti­ga­tion, Fol­card, a monk of Can­ter­bury, wrote the Life of St John of Bev­er­ley.

See The An­glo-​Sax­on Chron­icle, edit­ed by C. Plum­mer (Ox­ford, 1892-1899); Flo­rence of Worces­ter, Chron­icon ex Chroni­cis, edit­ed by B. Thor­pe (Lon­don, 1848-1849); William of Malmes­bury, De Gestis Pon­tif­icum An­glo­rum, edit­ed by N. E. S. A. Hamil­ton (Lon­don, 1870); W. H. Dixon, Fasti Ebo­ra­cens­es, vol. i., edit­ed by J. Raine (Lon­don, 1863); T. Stubbs, Chron­ica Pon­tif­icum Ec­cle­si­ae Ebo­ra­cen­sis, edit­ed by J. Raine (Lon­don, 1879-1894); E. A. Free­man, His­to­ry of the Nor­man Con­quest, vols. ii., iii., iv. (Ox­ford, 1867-1879).

ALDRICH, HEN­RY (1647-1710), En­glish the­olo­gian and philoso­pher, was born in 1647 at West­min­ster, and was ed­ucat­ed at the col­le­giate school there, un­der Dr Bus­by. In 1662 he en­tered Christ Church, Ox­ford, and in 1689 was made dean in suc­ces­sion to the Ro­man Catholic, John Massey, who had fled to the con­ti­nent. In 1692 he was vice-​chan­cel­lor of the Uni­ver­si­ty. In 1702 he was ap­point­ed rec­tor of Wem in Shrop­shire, but con­tin­ued to re­side at Ox­ford, where he died on the 14th of De­cem­ber 1710. He was buried in the cathe­dral with­out any memo­ri­al at his own de­sire. Aldrich was a man of un­usu­al­ly var­ied gifts. A clas­si­cal schol­ar of fair mer­its, he is best known as the au­thor of a lit­tle book on log­ic (Com­pendi­um Ar­tis Log­icae), a work of lit­tle val­ue in it­self, but used at Ox­ford (in Mansel’s re­vised edi­tion) till long past the mid­dle of the 19th cen­tu­ry. Aldrich al­so com­posed a num­ber of an­thems and church ser­vices of high mer­it, and adapt­ed much of the mu­sic of Palest­ri­na and Caris­si­mi to En­glish words with great skill and judg­ment. To him we owe the well-​known catch, “Hark, the bon­ny Christ Church bells.” Ev­idence of his skill as an ar­chi­tect may be seen in the church and cam­panile of All Saints, Ox­ford, and in three sides of the so-​called Peck­wa­ter Quad­ran­gle of Christ Church, which were erect­ed af­ter his de­signs. He bore a great rep­uta­tion for con­vivi­al­ity, and wrote a hu­mor­ous Latin ver­sion of the pop­ular bal­lad–

A sol­dier and a sailor, A tin­ker and a tai­lor, &c. An­oth­er spec­imen of his wit is fur­nished by the fol­low­ing epi­gram of the five rea­sons for drink­ing:–

Si bene quid mem­ini, causae sunt quinque biben­di; Hos­pi­tis ad­ven­tus, prae­sens sitis atque fu­tu­ra, Aut vi­ni boni­tas, aut quae­li­bet al­tera causa. The trans­la­tion runs:–

If on my theme I right­ly think, There are five rea­sons why men drink:– Good wine; a friend; be­cause I’m dry; Or lest I should be by and by; Or–any oth­er rea­son why. ALDRICH, NEL­SON WILMARTH (1841- ), Amer­ican politi­cian, was born at Fos­ter, Rhode Is­land, on the 6th of Novem­ber 1841. His first po­lit­ical ser­vice was as a mem­ber (1869-1875) and pres­ident (1871-1872) of the Prov­idence com­mon coun­cil. He was a mem­ber of the low­er house of the Rhode Is­land leg­is­la­ture in 1875 and 1876, and speak­er in the lat­ter year. By this time he had be­come a pow­er in Re­pub­li­can state pol­itics, and in 1878 and 1880 was elect­ed to Congress. Ear­ly in his sec­ond term he was cho­sen Unit­ed States sen­ator, and was re-​elect­ed in 1886, 1892, 1898 and 1905. In the Sen­ate he was looked up­on as the spe­cial rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the high pro­tec­tive in­dus­tries and mon­eyed in­ter­ests, and he took a promi­nent part in all leg­is­la­tion deal­ing with the tar­iff, bank­ing and the mer­chant ma­rine.

ALDRICH, THOMAS BAI­LEY (1836-1907), Amer­ican au­thor, was born in Portsmouth, New Hamp­shire, on the 11th of Novem­ber 1836. When he was but a child his fa­ther moved to New Or­leans, but af­ter ten years the boy was sent back to Portsmouth–the “River­mouth” of sev­er­al of his sto­ries–to pre­pare for col­lege. This pe­ri­od of his life is part­ly de­scribed in his Sto­ry of a Bad Boy (1870), of which “Tom Bai­ley” is the ju­ve­nile hero.1 His fa­ther’s death in 1852 com­pelled Aldrich to aban­don the idea of col­lege and en­ter a busi­ness of­fice in New York. Here he soon be­came a con­stant con­trib­utor to the news­pa­pers and mag­azines, and the in­ti­mate friend of the young po­ets, artists and wits of the metropoli­tan Bo­hemia of the ear­ly’six­ties, among whom were E. C. Sted­man, R. H. Stod­dard, Ba­yard Tay­lor and Walt Whit­man. From 1856 to 1859 he was on the staff of the Home Jour­nal, then edit­ed by N. P. Willis, while dur­ing the Civ­il War he was him­self ed­itor of the New York Il­lus­trat­ed News. In 1865 he moved to Boston and was ed­itor for ten years for Tic­knor and Fields–then at the height of their pres­tige–of the eclec­tic week­ly Ev­ery Sat­ur­day, dis­con­tin­ued in 1875. From 1881 to 1890 he was ed­itor of the At­lantic Month­ly. Mean­while Aldrich had writ­ten much, both in prose and verse. His ge­nius was many-​sid­ed, and it is sur­pris­ing that so busy an ed­itor and so pro­lif­ic a writ­er should have at­tained the per­fec­tion of form for which he was re­mark­able. His suc­ces­sive vol­umes of verse, chiefly The Bal­lad of Ba­bie Bell (1856), Pampinea, and Oth­er Po­ems (1861), Cloth of Gold (1874), Flow­er and Thorn (1876), Fri­ar Jerome’s Beau­ti­ful Book (1881), Mer­cedes and Lat­er Lyrics (1883), Wyn­dham Tow­ers (1889), and the col­lect­ed edi­tions of 1865, 1882, 1897 and 1900, showed him to be a po­et of lyri­cal skill, dain­ty touch and fe­lic­itous con­ceit, the in­flu­ence of Her­rick be­ing con­stant­ly ap­par­ent. He re­peat­ed­ly es­sayed the long nar­ra­tive or dra­mat­ic po­em, but sel­dom with suc­cess, save in such ear­li­er work as Gar­naut Hall. But no Amer­ican po­et has shown more skill in de­scrib­ing some sin­gle pic­ture, mood, con­ceit or episode. His best things are such lyrics as “Hes­perides,” “When the Sul­tan goes to Is­pa­han,” “Be­fore the Rain,” “Name­less Pain,” “The Tragedy,” “Sead­rift,” “Tiger Lilies,” “The One White Rose,” “Pal­abras Cari­nosas,” “Des­tiny,” or the eight-​line po­em “Iden­ti­ty,” which did more to spread Aldrich’s rep­uta­tion than any of his writ­ing af­ter Ba­bie Bell. Be­gin­ning with the col­lec­tion of sto­ries en­ti­tled Mar­jorie Daw and Oth­er Peo­ple (1873), Aldrich ap­plied to his lat­er prose work that minute care in com­po­si­tion which had pre­vi­ous­ly char­ac­ter­ized his verse–tak­ing a near, new or salient sit­ua­tion, and set­ting it be­fore the read­er in a pret­ty com­bi­na­tion of kind­ly re­al­ism and ret­icent hu­mour. In the nov­els, Pru­dence Pal­frey (1874), The (Queen of She­ba (1877), and The Still­wa­ter Tragedy (1880), there is more rapid ac­tion; but the Portsmouth pic­tures in the first are elab­orat­ed with the af­fec­tion­ate touch shown in the short­er hu­mourous tale, A River­mouth Ro­mance (1877). In An Old Town by the Sea (1893) the au­thor’s birth­place was once more com­mem­orat­ed, while trav­el and de­scrip­tion are the theme of From Ponka­pog to Pesth (1883). Aldrich died at Boston on the 19th of March 1907.

His Life was writ­ten by Fer­ris Greenslet (1908).

1 This book has been trans­lat­ed in­to French as Ed­uca­tion et recre­ation, and in­to Ger­man as a spec­imen of Amer­ican hu­mour.

ALDRINGER (AL­TRINGER, ALDRIN­GEN), JO­HANN, COUNT VON (1588-1634), Aus­tri­an sol­dier, was born at Dieden­hofen (Thionville) in Lor­raine. Af­ter trav­el­ling as page to a no­ble­man in France, Italy and the Nether­lands, he went to the uni­ver­si­ty of Paris. In 1606 he en­tered the ser­vice of Spain, in which he re­mained un­til 1618, when he joined the im­pe­ri­al army. Here he dis­tin­guished him­self in the field and in the cab­inet. Made a colonel in 1622, two years lat­er he was em­ployed on the coun­cil of war and on diplo­mat­ic mis­sions. At the bridge of Dessau in 1626 he per­formed very dis­tin­guished ser­vice against Ernst von Mans­feld. He and his con­stant com­rade Matthias Gal­las (q.v.) were en­no­bled on the same day, and in the course of the Ital­ian cam­paign of 1630 the two of­fi­cers mar­ried the two daugh­ters of Count d’Ar­co. Aldringer served as Count Ram­bold Col­lal­to’s ma­jor-​gen­er­al in this cam­paign and was present at the tak­ing of Man­tua. The plun­der of the duke of Man­tua’s trea­sures made Gal­las and Aldringer wealthy men. Back in Ger­many in 1631, he served af­ter Bre­it­en­feld as Tilly’s ar­tillery com­man­der, and, el­evat­ed to the dig­ni­ty of count of the Em­pire, he was present at the bat­tle of the Lech, where he was wound­ed. When Tilly died of his wounds Aldringer suc­ceed­ed to the com­mand. Made field-​mar­shal af­ter the as­sault of the Alte Veste near Nurem­berg, at which he had been sec­ond in com­mand un­der Wal­len­stein, duke of Fried­land (with whom he was a great favourite), he was next placed at the head of the corps formed by Max­im­il­ian I. of Bavaria to sup­port Wal­len­stein. In this post his tact and diplo­mat­ic abil­ity were put to a se­vere test in the preser­va­tion of har­mo­ny be­tween the two dukes. Fi­nal­ly Count Aldringer was won over by the court par­ty which sought to dis­place the too suc­cess­ful duke of Fried­land. Af­ter Wal­len­stein’s death Aldringer com­mand­ed against the Swedes on the Danube, and at the de­fence of Land­shut he fell (Ju­ly 22, 1634). His great pos­ses­sions de­scend­ed to his sis­ter, and thence to the fam­ily of Clary and Aldrin­gen.

See Brohm, Jo­hann von Aldrin­gen (Halle, 1882), and Her­mann Hall­wich, Jo­hann von Aldrin­gen (Leipzig, 1885); al­so All­ge­meine Deutsche Bi­ogra­phie, s.v. Gal­las, cor­rect­ing ear­li­er bi­og­ra­phy of Aldringer in the same work.

AL­DROVAN­DI, ULIS­SI (1522-1605), Ital­ian nat­ural­ist, was, born of no­ble parent­age at Bologna on the 11th of Septem­ber 1522. He was ap­pren­ticed to a mer­chant in Bres­cia, but a com­mer­cial ca­reer be­ing dis­taste­ful to him, he turned his at­ten­tion to law and medicine, study­ing first in his na­tive town and af­ter­wards at Pad­ua. In 1550 he was ac­cused of heresy, but suc­ceed­ed in clear­ing him­self be­fore the In­qui­si­tion. In 1553 he took his doc­tor’s de­gree in medicine at Bologna, and in the fol­low­ing year was ap­point­ed pro­fes­sor of phi­los­ophy and al­so lec­tur­er on botany at the uni­ver­si­ty. In 1560 he was trans­ferred to the chair of nat­ural his­to­ry. At his in­stance the sen­ate of Bologna es­tab­lished in 1568 a botan­ical gar­den, of which he was ap­point­ed the first di­rec­tor. About the same time he be­came in­spec­tor of drugs, and in that ca­pac­ity pub­lished in 1574 a work en­ti­tled An­ti­do­tarii Bonon­ien­sis Epit­ome, which formed the mod­el for many sub­se­quent phar­ma­copoeias. He was al­so in­stru­men­tal in found­ing the pub­lic mu­se­um of Bologna, which con­tains, es­pe­cial­ly in the nat­ural his­to­ry de­part­ment, a large num­ber of spec­imens col­lect­ed by him. The re­sults of his var­ious re­search­es were em­bod­ied in a mag­num opus, which was de­signed to in­clude ev­ery­thing that was known about nat­ural his­to­ry. The first three vol­umes, com­pris­ing his or­nithol­ogy, were pub­lished in 1599, and a fourth, treat­ing of in­sects, ap­peared in 1602. Af­ter his death a num­ber of oth­er vol­umes were com­piled from his manuscript ma­te­ri­als, un­der the ed­itor­ship of sev­er­al of his pupils, to whom the task was en­trust­ed by the sen­ate of Bologna. The work was en­riched by a large num­ber of il­lus­tra­tions pre­pared at great ex­pense, the au­thor hav­ing, it is said, em­ployed sev­er­al cel­ebrat­ed artists for thir­ty years. Among these were Loren­zo Beni­ni of Flo­rence and Christo­pher Cori­olanus of Nurem­berg. It has been said, in­deed, that the cost of the un­der­tak­ing was so great as to ex­haust its au­thor’s means, and that he died pen­ni­less and blind in the pub­lic hos­pi­tal of Bologna. This, how­ev­er, is prob­ably in­cor­rect, at least as re­gards the al­le­ga­tion of pover­ty. Pub­lished records of the sen­ate of Bologna show that it lib­er­al­ly sup­port­ed Al­drovan­di in his un­der­tak­ing, dou­bling his salary soon af­ter his ap­point­ment as pro­fes­sor, and be­stow­ing on him from time to time sums amount­ing in all to 40,000 crowns. If, there­fore, he died in the pub­lic hos­pi­tal, he prob­ably went there for the bet­ter treat­ment of his dis­ease. His death oc­curred on the 10th of May 1605. Al­drovan­di was chiefly re­mark­able for la­bo­ri­ous and pa­tient re­search. He seems to have been to­tal­ly des­ti­tute of the crit­ical fac­ul­ty, and hard­ly any at­tempt is made in his great work to clas­si­fy facts or to dis­tin­guish be­tween the true and the fab­ulous, the im­por­tant and the triv­ial. Much is thus in­clud­ed that is of no sci­en­tif­ic val­ue, but it al­so con­tains much in­for­ma­tion of very great in­ter­est to the nat­ural­ist.

ALE, an old word for a fer­ment­ed liquor ob­tained chiefly from malt. In Eng­land “ale” is nowa­days prac­ti­cal­ly syn­ony­mous with “beer.” Be­fore the in­tro­duc­tion of hops in­to Eng­land from Flan­ders in the 16th cen­tu­ry ale was the name ex­clu­sive­ly ap­plied to malt liquor, the term beer be­ing grad­ual­ly in­tro­duced to de­scribe liquor brewed with an in­fu­sion of hops. This dis­tinc­tion does not ap­ply at the present time, ex­cept in so far as the term ale is not ap­plied to black beers (stout and porter) nor to lager beer. In the Unit­ed States, how­ev­er, it is cus­tom­ary to con­fine the des­ig­na­tion beer to the ar­ti­cle ob­tained by the bot­tom fer­men­ta­tion pro­cess. In for­mer times the Welsh and Scots had two dis­tinct kinds of ale, called com­mon and spiced ales, the rel­ative val­ues of which were ap­praised by law in the fol­low­ing terms: “If a farmer have no mead, he shall pay two casks of spiced ale, or four casks of com­mon ale, for one cask of mead.” There are nu­mer­ous va­ri­eties of En­glish ales, such as mild ale, which is a full, sweet­ish beer, of a dark colour and with rel­ative­ly lit­tle hop; pale ale, which is rel­ative­ly dry, of light colour and of a more pro­nounced hop flavour than the mild ale; and bit­ter and stock ales, the lat­ter term be­ing gen­er­al­ly re­served for su­pe­ri­or beers, such as are used for bot­tling. The terms pale, bit­ter, stock, light, &c., are to be re­gard­ed as trade dis­tinc­tions and not as ex­act def­ini­tions of qual­ity or type. (See BEER and BREW­ING.)

Parish Ales.–In old Eng­land an “ale” was syn­ony­mous with a parish fes­ti­val or mer­ry-​mak­ing at which ale was the chief drink. The word was gen­er­al­ly used in com­po­si­tion. Thus there were leet-​ales (that held on leet or mano­ri­al court day); lamb-​ales (that held at lamb-​shear­ing); Whit­sun-​ales, clerk-​ales, church-​ales and so on. The word bridal is re­al­ly bride-​ale, the wed­ding feast. Bid-​ales, once very com­mon through­out Eng­land, were “ben­efit” feasts to which a gen­er­al in­vi­ta­tion was giv­en, and all the neigh­bours at­tend­ing were ex­pect­ed to make some con­tri­bu­tion to help the ob­ject of the “ben­efit.” (See “Bid­ding-​Wed­dings” un­der BRIDE.) These parish fes­ti­vals were of much ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal and so­cial im­por­tance in me­dieval Eng­land. The chief pur­pose of church-​ales and clerk-​ales, at least, was to fa­cil­itate the col­lec­tion of parish-​dues, or to make an ac­tu­al prof­it for the church from the sale of the liquor by the church war­dens. These prof­its kept the parish church in re­pair, or were dis­tribut­ed as alms to the poor. At Sygate, Nor­folk, on the gallery of the church is in­scribed–

God speed the plough And give us good ale enow . . . Be mer­ry and glade, With good ale was this work made. On the beam of a screen in the church of Thor­pe-​le-​So­ken, Es­sex, is the fol­low­ing in­scrip­tion in raised Goth­ic let­ters, on a scroll held by two an­gels–“This cost is the bachel­ers made by ales thesn be ther med.” The date is about 1480. The feast was usu­al­ly held in a barn near the church or in the church­yard. In Tu­dor times church-​ales were held on Sun­days. Grad­ual­ly the parish-​ales were lim­it­ed to the Whit­sun sea­son, and these still have lo­cal sur­vivals. The col­leges of the uni­ver­si­ties used for­mer­ly to brew their own ales and hold fes­ti­vals known as col­lege-​ales. Some of these ales are still brewed and fa­mous, like “chan­cel­lor” at Queen’s Col­lege, and “archdea­con” at Mor­ton Col­lege, Ox­ford, and “au­dit ale” at Trin­ity, Cam­bridge.

See Brand’s Pop­ular An­tiq­ui­ties of Great Britain (Wm. Carew Ha­zlitt’s edi­tion, 1905).

ALE­AN­DRO, GIRO­LAMO (HI­ERONY­MUS ALE­AN­DER) (1480- 1542), Ital­ian car­di­nal, was born at Mot­ta, near Venice, on the 13th of Febru­ary 1480. He stud­ied at Venice, where he be­came ac­quaint­ed with Eras­mus and Al­dus Manu­tius, and at an ear­ly age was re­put­ed one of the most learned men of the time. In 1508 he went to Paris on the in­vi­ta­tion of Louis XII. as pro­fes­sor of belles let­tres, and held for a time the po­si­tion of rec­tor in the uni­ver­si­ty. En­ter­ing the ser­vice of Eber­hard, prince-​bish­op of Liege, he was sent by that prelate on a mis­sion to Rome, where Pope Leo X. re­tained him, giv­ing him (1519) the of­fice of li­brar­ian of the Vat­ican. In the fol­low­ing year he went to Ger­many to be present as pa­pal nun­cio at the coro­na­tion of Charles V., and was al­so present at the di­et of Worms, where he head­ed the op­po­si­tion to Luther, ad­vo­cat­ing the most ex­treme mea­sures to re­press the doc­trines of the re­former. His con­duct evoked the fiercest de­nun­ci­ations of Luther, but it al­so dis­pleased more mod­er­ate men and es­pe­cial­ly Eras­mus. The edict against the re­former, which was fi­nal­ly adopt­ed by the em­per­or and the di­et, was drawn up and pro­posed by Ale­an­dro. Af­ter the close of the di­et the pa­pal nun­cio went to the Nether­lands; where he kin­dled the flames of per­se­cu­tion, two monks of Antwerp, the first mar­tyrs of the Ref­or­ma­tion, be­ing burnt in Brus­sels at his in­sti­ga­tion. In 1523 Clement VII., hav­ing ap­point­ed him arch­bish­op of Brin­disi and Oria, sent him as nun­cio to the court of Fran­cis I. He was tak­en pris­on­er along with that monarch at the bat­tle of Pavia (1525), and was re­leased on­ly on pay­ment of a heavy ran­som. He was sub­se­quent­ly em­ployed on var­ious pa­pal mis­sions, es­pe­cial­ly to Ger­many, but was un­suc­cess­ful in pre­vent­ing the Ger­man princes from mak­ing a truce with the re­form­ers, or in check­ing to any ex­tent the progress of the new doc­trines. He was cre­at­ed car­di­nal in 1536 by Paul III. (at the same time as Regi­nald Pole) and died at Rome on the 1st of Febru­ary 1542.

Ale­an­dro com­piled a Lex­icon Grae­co-​Lat­inum (Paris, 1512), and wrote Latin verse of con­sid­er­able mer­it in­sert­ed in M. Tus­canus’s Carmi­na Il­lus­tri­um Po­et­arum Ital­io­rum. The Vat­ican li­brary con­tains a vol­ume of manuscript let­ters and oth­er doc­uments writ­ten by him in con­nex­ion with his var­ious mis­sions against Luther. They were uti­lized by Pallavi­ci­no in his Is­to­ria del Con­cilio Tri­denti­no (i. 23-28), who gives a very par­tial ac­count of the Worms con­fer­ence.

Ale­an­dro, who is some­times called “the el­der,” must be dis­tin­guished from his grand-​nephew, al­so called Giro­lamo Ale­an­dro (1374-1629). The younger Ale­an­dro was a very dis­tin­guished schol­ar, and wrote Psal­mi poen­iten­tiales versibus ele­giacis ex­pres­si (Treves, 1593), Gaii, vet­eris ju­ris con­sul­ti In­sti­tu­tion­um frag­men­ta, cum com­men­tario (Venice, 1600), Ex­pli­ca­tio vet­eris tab­ulae mar­mor­cae so­lis ef­figie sym­bol­isque ex­culp­tae (Rome, 1616).

ALEAR­DI, ALEAR­DO, COUNT (1812-1878), Ital­ian po­et, was born at Verona on the 4th of Novem­ber 1812, and thus soon af­ter his birth be­came an Aus­tri­an sub­ject. In­spired from his cra­dle with a ha­tred of the for­eign­er, he found him­self dis­qual­ified for the po­si­tion in the pub­lic ser­vice to which his rank would have en­ti­tled him, and un­able to pub­lish his pa­tri­ot­ic vers­es. Ar­nal­do da Roc­ca, a nar­ra­tive po­em, nev­er­the­less ap­peared in 1842, and the rev­olu­tion­ary year 1848 made an open­ing for his Let­tere a Maria. He took an ac­tive part in the pop­ular up­ris­ing, and was for some time im­pris­oned. In 1856 he pro­duced the finest of his pieces, an ode to the mar­itime cities of Italy, and in 1858 a po­em on his own mis­for­tunes. Af­ter the ex­pul­sion of the Aus­tri­ans from Lom­bardy he re­turned to Verona, pub­lished his po­ems in a col­lect­ed edi­tion (1862), be­came pro­fes­sor at the Acade­my of Fine Art, mem­ber of the Ital­ian par­lia­ment and even­tu­al­ly sen­ator. He died on the 17th of Ju­ly 1878. Alear­di’s warmth of pa­tri­ot­ic feel­ing hard­ly finds ad­equate ex­pres­sion in his po­et­ry; it is his mer­it to ex­cel in de­scrip­tion, but his fault to sub­sti­tute de­scrip­tion for ac­tion.

ALE-​CON­NER, an of­fi­cer ap­point­ed year­ly at the court-​leet of an­cient En­glish manors for the as­size of ale and ale-​mea­sures. The gus­ta­tores cervisi­ae–called in dif­fer­ent lo­cal­ities by the dif­fer­ent names “ale-​tasters,” “ale-​founders,” and “ale- con­ners”–were sworn to ex­am­ine beer and ale, to take care that they were good and whole­some and were sold at prop­er prices. In Lon­don four ale-​con­ners, whose du­ty it is to ex­am­ine the mea­sures used by beer and liquor sell­ers to guard against fraud, are still cho­sen an­nu­al­ly by the liv­ery­men in com­mon hall as­sem­bled on Mid­sum­mer Day. Since ale and beer have be­come ex­cis­able com­modi­ties the cus­tom of ap­point­ing ale-​tasters has in most places fall­en in­to dis­use. (See al­so ADUL­TER­ATION.)

ALEC­SAN­DRI, or ALEXAN­DRI, VASILE (1821-1890), Ru­ma­ni­an lyric po­et, was born at Ba­cau in Mol­davia on the 21st of Ju­ly 1821. His fa­ther was the Spatar Alec­san­dri, of Jew­ish and Ital­ian ori­gin, who had set­tled in Mol­davia in the 18th cen­tu­ry. Vasile was ed­ucat­ed first in Jassy and af­ter­wards (1834-1839) in Paris. In 1839 he start­ed on a long jour­ney through the Carpathi­an Moun­tains, and was the first to col­lect Ru­ma­ni­an pop­ular songs, no doubt in­flu­enced by West­ern ex­am­ples. He first pub­lished his col­lec­tion in 1844. His Doine si Lacrim­ioare, lyri­cal po­ems, ap­peared at Paris in 1852, and in 1852-1853 he pro­duced at Jassy a fuller col­lec­tion of pop­ular bal­lads and songs. He then adapt­ed some French plays for the new­ly found­ed Ru­ma­ni­an the­atre, and wrote some orig­inal pieces. His con­nex­ion with the rev­olu­tion­ary move­ment of 1848 com­pelled him to seek shel­ter in the west of Eu­rope, and he vis­it­ed Eng­land. where a beau­ti­ful­ly il­lu­mi­nat­ed edi­tion of his po­ems was print­ed in the orig­inal Ru­ma­ni­an lan­guage. In 1867 he pub­lished some fugi­tive pieces, writ­ten in a lighter vein, and en­ti­tled Pastele; these were fol­lowed in 1871 by the Leg­ende of sim­ilar char­ac­ter. More se­ri­ous are his dra­mat­ic writ­ings which be­gan with Despot Vo­da and cul­mi­nat­ed in Ovid. In lat­er life Alec­san­dri took an ac­tive part in pol­itics; he be­came min­is­ter for for­eign af­fairs from 1859 to 1860, and in 1885 was ap­point­ed Ru­ma­ni­an min­is­ter in Paris. He died on the 26th of Au­gust 1890 at his coun­try seat, Mirces­ti. His best ti­tle to fame con­sists in the fact that he gave the first im­pe­tus to the col­lec­tion of Ru­ma­ni­an pop­ular songs and first drew at­ten­tion to their inim­itable charm.

See L. Sain­sanu, Au­torii Ro­mani mod­erni (1891), pp. 90 and 318. A com­plete edi­tion of Alec­san­dri’s writ­ings in nine vol­umes was pub­lished at Bucharest in 1875 seq. (M. G.)

ALE­MAN, LOUIS (c. 1390-1450), French car­di­nal, was born of a no­ble fam­ily at the cas­tle of Ar­bent near Bugey about the year 1390. He was suc­ces­sive­ly bish­op of Maguelonne (1418), arch­bish­op of Ar­les (1423) and car­di­nal priest of St Ce­cil­ia (1426). He was a promi­nent mem­ber of the coun­cil of Basel, and, to­geth­er with Car­di­nal Ju­lian, led the par­ty which main­tained the suprema­cy of gen­er­al coun­cils over the pope’s au­thor­ity. In 1440 Ale­man ob­tained the sup­port of the em­per­or Sigis­mund and of the duke of Mi­lan to his views, and pro­claim­ing the de­po­si­tion of Pope Eu­ge­nius IV., placed the tiara up­on the head of Amadeus VI­II., duke of Savoy (hence­for­ward known as an­tipope Fe­lix V.). Eu­ge­nius re­tort­ed by.ex­com­mu­ni­cat­ing the an­tipope and de­priv­ing Ale­man of all his ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal dig­ni­ties. In or­der to make an end of the schism, Fe­lix V. fi­nal­ly ab­di­cat­ed on Ale­man’s ad­vice, and Nicholas V., who had suc­ceed­ed in 1447, re­stored the car­di­nal to all his hon­ours and em­ployed him as legate to Ger­many in 1449. On his re­turn he re­tired to his dio­cese of Ar­les, where he de­vot­ed him­self zeal­ous­ly to the in­struc­tion of his peo­ple. He died on the 16th of Septem­ber 1450, and was be­at­ified by Pope Clement VII. in 1527.

See U. Cheva­lier, Repert. des sources hist. (Paris, 1905), p. 130.

ALE­MAN, MA­TEO (1547-1609?), Span­ish nov­el­ist and man of let­ters, was born at Seville in 1547. He grad­uat­ed at Seville Uni­ver­si­ty in 1564, stud­ied lat­er at Sala­man­ca and Al­cala, and from 1571 to 1588 held a post in the trea­sury; in 1594 he was ar­rest­ed on sus­pi­cion of malver­sa­tion, but was speed­ily re­leased. In 1599 he pub­lished the first part of Guz­man de Al­farache, a cel­ebrat­ed pi­caresque nov­el which passed through not less than six­teen edi­tions in five years; a spu­ri­ous se­quel was is­sued in 1602, but the au­then­tic con­tin­ua­tion did not ap­pear till 1604. In 1608 Ale­man em­igrat­ed to Amer­ica, and is said to have car­ried on busi­ness as a print­er in Mex­ico; his Or­tografia castel­lana (1609), pub­lished in that city, con­tains in­ge­nious and prac­ti­cal pro­pos­als for the re­form of Span­ish spelling. Noth­ing is record­ed of Ale­man af­ter 1609, but it is some­times as­sert­ed that he was still liv­ing in 1617. He mar­ried, un­hap­pi­ly, Catali­na de Es­pinosa in 1571, and was con­stant­ly in mon­ey dif­fi­cul­ties, be­ing im­pris­oned for debt at Seville at the end of 1602. He is the au­thor of a life (1604) of St Antony of Pad­ua, and ver­sions of two odes of Ho­race bear wit­ness to his taste and met­ri­cal ac­com­plish­ment. His chief ti­tle to re­mem­brance, how­ev­er, is Guz­man de Al­farache, which was trans­lat­ed in­to French in 1600, in­to En­glish in 1623 and in­to Latin in 1623.

See J. Haz­anas y la Rua, Dis­cur­sos lei­dos en la Re­al Academia Sevil­lana de Bue­nas le­tras el 25 de mar zo de 1892 (Sevil­la, 1892); J. Gestoso y Perez, Nuevos datos para`ilus­trar las bi­ografias del Mae­stro Juan de Malara y de Ma­teo Ale­man (Sevil­la, 1896). (J. F.-K.)

ALEM­BERT, DEAN LE ROND D’ (1717-1783), French math­emati­cian and philoso­pher, was born at Paris in Novem­ber 1717. He was a foundling, hav­ing been ex­posed near the church of St Jean le Rond, Paris, where he was dis­cov­ered on the 17th of Novem­ber. It af­ter­wards be­came known that he was the il­le­git­imate son of the cheva­lier Destouch­es and Madame de Tencin. The in­fant was en­trust­ed to the wife of a glazier named Rousseau who lived close by. He was called Jean le Rond from the church near which he was found; the sur­name Alem­bert was added by him­self at a lat­er pe­ri­od. His fa­ther, with­out dis­clos­ing him­self, hav­ing set­tled an an­nu­ity on him, he was sent at four years of age to a board­ing-​school. In 1730 he en­tered the Mazarin Col­lege un­der the Jansenists, who soon per­ceived his ex­cep­tion­al tal­ent, and, prompt­ed per­haps by a com­men­tary on the Epis­tle to the Ro­mans which he pro­duced in the first year of his philo­soph­ical course, sought to di­rect it to the­ol­ogy. His knowl­edge of the high­er math­emat­ics was ac­quired by his own un­aid­ed ef­forts af­ter he had left the col­lege. This fact nat­ural­ly led to his cred­it­ing him­self with many dis­cov­er­ies which he af­ter­wards found had been al­ready es­tab­lished, of­ten by more di­rect and el­egant pro­cess­es than his own.

On leav­ing col­lege he re­turned to the house of his fos­ter-​moth­er, where he con­tin­ued to live for thir­ty years. Hav­ing stud­ied law, he was ad­mit­ted as an ad­vo­cate in 1738, but did not en­ter up­on prac­tice. He next de­vot­ed him­self to medicine, but his nat­ural in­cli­na­tion proved too strong for him, and with­in a year he re­solved to give his whole time to math­emat­ics. In 1741 he re­ceived his first pub­lic dis­tinc­tion in be­ing ad­mit­ted a mem­ber of the Acade­my of Sci­ences, to which he had pre­vi­ous­ly pre­sent­ed sev­er­al pa­pers, in­clud­ing a Mem­oire sur le cal­cul in­te­gral (1739). In his Mem­oire sur le re­frac­tion des corps solides (1741) he was the first to give a the­oret­ical ex­pla­na­tion of the phe­nomenon which is wit­nessed when a body pass­es from one flu­id to an­oth­er more dense in a di­rec­tion not per­pen­dic­ular to the sur­face which sep­arates the two flu­ids. In 1743 he pub­lished his Traite de dy­namique, a work fa­mous as de­vel­op­ing the me­chan­ical prin­ci­ple, known as “Alem­bert’s Prin­ci­ple,” first enun­ci­at­ed in 1742 (see ME­CHAN­ICS.) In 1744 Alem­bert ap­plied this prin­ci­ple to the the­ory of the equi­lib­ri­um and the mo­tion of flu­ids (Traite de l’equi­li­bre et du mou­ve­ment des flu­ides), and all the prob­lems be­fore solved by ge­ome­tri­cians be­came in some mea­sure its corol­lar­ies. This dis­cov­ery was fol­lowed by that of the cal­cu­lus of par­tial dif­fer­ences, the first tri­als of which were pub­lished in his Re­flex­ion sur la cause gen­erale des vents (1747). This work was crowned by the Acade­my of Berlin, and was ded­icat­ed to Fred­er­ick the Great, who made sev­er­al un­suc­cess­ful at­tempts to in­duce him to set­tle in Berlin. In 1763 he vis­it­ed Berlin, and on that oc­ca­sion fi­nal­ly re­fused the of­fice of pres­ident of the Acade­my of Berlin, which had been al­ready of­fered to him more than once. In 1747 he ap­plied his new cal­cu­lus to the prob­lem of vi­brat­ing chords, the so­lu­tion of which, as well as the the­ory of the os­cil­la­tion of the air and the prop­aga­tion of sound, had been giv­en but in­com­plete­ly by the ge­ome­tri­cians who pre­ced­ed him. In 1749 he fur­nished a method of ap­ply­ing his prin­ci­ples to the mo­tion of any body of a giv­en fig­ure; and in 1754 he solved the prob­lem of the pre­ces­sion of the equinox­es, de­ter­mined its quan­ti­ty and ex­plained the phe­nomenon of the nu­ta­tion of the earth’s ax­is. In 1752 he pub­lished an Es­sai d’une nou­velle the­orie sur la re­sis­tance des flu­ides, which con­tains a large num­ber of orig­inal ideas and new ob­ser­va­tions. In 1746 and 1748 he pub­lished in the Mem­oirs of the Acade­my of Berlin “Recherch­es sur le cal­cul in­te­gral,” a branch of math­emat­ical sci­ence which is great­ly in­debt­ed to him. In his Recherch­es sur dif­fer­ents points im­por­tants du sys­teme du monde (1754-1756) he per­fect­ed the so­lu­tion of the prob­lem of the per­tur­ba­tions of the plan­ets, which he had pre­sent­ed to the acade­my some years be­fore.

Alem­bert’s as­so­ci­ation with Diderot in the prepa­ra­tion of the Dic­tio­nnaire En­cy­clo­pe­dique led him to take a someuhat wider range than that to which he had pre­vi­ous­ly con­fined him­self. He wrote for that work the Dis­cours pre­lim­inaire on the rise, progress and affini­ties of the var­ious sci­ences, which he read to the French Acade­my on the day of his ad­mis­sion as a mem­ber, the 18th of De­cem­ber 1754. He al­so wrote sev­er­al lit­er­ary ar­ti­cles for the first two vol­umes of the En­cy­clopae­dia, and to the re­main­ing vol­umes he con­tribut­ed math­emat­ical ar­ti­cles chiefly. One of the few ex­cep­tions was the ar­ti­cle on “Gene­va,” which in­volved him in a some­what keen con­tro­ver­sy in re­gard to Calvin­ism and the sup­pres­sion of the­atri­cal per­for­mances with­in the town. Dur­ing the time he was en­gaged on the En­cy­clopae­dia he wrote a num­ber of lit­er­ary and philo­soph­ical works which ex­tend­ed his rep­uta­tion and al­so ex­posed him to crit­icism and con­tro­ver­sy, as in the case of his Melanges de Philoso­phie, d’His­toire, et de Lit­ter­ature. His Es­sai sur la so­ci­ete des gens de let­tres avec les grands was a wor­thy vin­di­ca­tion of the in­de­pen­dence of lit­er­ary men, and a thor­ough ex­po­sure of the evils of the sys­tem of pa­tron­age. He broke new ground and showed great skill as a trans­la­tor in his Tra­duc­tion de quelques morceaux choi­sis de Tacite. One of his most im­por­tant works was the El­ements de Philoso­phie pub­lished in 1759, in which he dis­cussed the prin­ci­ples and meth­ods of the dif­fer­ent sci­ences. He main­tained that the laws of mo­tion were nec­es­sary, not con­tin­gent. A trea­tise, Sur la de­struc­tion des Je­suites (1765), in­volved him in a fresh con­tro­ver­sy, his own share in which was ren­dered very easy by the vi­olence and ex­trav­agance of his ad­ver­saries. The list of his more note­wor­thy lit­er­ary works is com­plet­ed by the men­tion of the His­toire des mem­bres de l’Academie fran­caise, con­tain­ing bi­ograph­ical no­tices of all the mem­bers of the Acade­my who died be­tween 1700 and 1772, the year in which he him­self be­came sec­re­tary. Alem­bert was much in­ter­est­ed in mu­sic both as a sci­ence and as an art, and wrote El­ements de musique the­orique et pra­tique (1779), which was based up­on the sys­tem of J. P. Rameau with im­por­tant mod­ifi­ca­tions and dif­fer­ences.

Alem­bert’s fame spread rapid­ly through­out Eu­rope and pro­cured for him more than one op­por­tu­ni­ty of quit­ting the com­par­ative re­tire­ment in which he lived in Paris for more lu­cra­tive and promi­nent po­si­tions. The of­fer of Fred­er­ick the Great has al­ready been men­tioned. In 1762 he was in­vit­ed by Cather­ine of Rus­sia to be­come tu­tor to her son at a year­ly salary of 100,000 francs. On his re­fusal the of­fer was re­peat­ed with the ad­di­tion­al in­duce­ment of ac­com­mo­da­tion for as many of his friends as he chose to bring with him to the Rus­sian cap­ital. Alem­bert per­sist­ed in his re­fusal, and the let­ter of Cather­ine was or­dered to be en­grossed in the min­utes of the French Acade­my. In 1755, on the rec­om­men­da­tion of Pope Bene­dict XIV., he was ad­mit­ted a mem­ber of the In­sti­tute of Bologna. A lega­cy of L. 200 from David Hume showed the es­teem in which he was held by that philoso­pher.

Alem­bert con­tin­ued to the end to lead the qui­et and fru­gal life dic­tat­ed by his lim­it­ed means as well as his sim­ple tastes. His lat­er years were sad­dened by cir­cum­stances con­nect­ed with a ro­man­tic at­tach­ment he had formed for Made­moi­selle de Lespinasse, whose ac­quain­tance he made at the house of Madame du Def­fand, a not­ed re­sort of lit­er­ary men and sa­vants. She nursed him as­sid­uous­ly dur­ing an ill­ness he had in 1765, and from that pe­ri­od till her death in 1776 they lived in the same house with­out any scan­dal. On her part there seems to have been from first to last noth­ing more than warm friend­ship, but his feel­ings to­wards her were of a stronger kind and her death deeply af­fect­ed him. He nev­er re­cov­ered his elas­tic­ity of spir­its, though he con­tin­ued to oc­cu­py him­self with his favourite pur­suits, and to fre­quent the so­ci­ety of his broth­er philoso­phers. Af­ter the death of Voltaire (1778), whose friend and cor­re­spon­dent he had been for more than thir­ty years, he was re­gard­ed as the lead­er of the philo­soph­ical par­ty in the Acade­my. He died at Paris on the 29th of Oc­to­ber 1783.

The chief fea­tures of Alem­bert’s char­ac­ter were benev­olence, sim­plic­ity and in­de­pen­dence. Though his in­come was nev­er large, and dur­ing the greater part of his life was very mea­gre, he con­trived to find means to sup­port his fos­ter-​moth­er in her old age, to ed­ucate the chil­dren of his first teach­er, and to help var­ious de­serv­ing stu­dents dur­ing their col­lege ca­reer. His cheer­ful con­ver­sa­tion, his smart and live­ly sal­lies, a sin­gu­lar mix­ture of mal­ice of speech with good­ness of heart, and of del­ica­cy of wit with sim­plic­ity of man­ners, ren­dered him a pleas­ing and in­ter­est­ing com­pan­ion; and if his man­ner was some­times plain al­most to the ex­tent of rude­ness, it prob­ably set all the bet­ter an ex­am­ple of a much-​need­ed re­form to the class to which he be­longed. The con­tro­ver­sy as to the na­ture of his re­li­gious opin­ions, aris­ing as it did chiefly out of his con­nex­ion with the En­cy­clopae­dia, has no longer any liv­ing in­ter­est now that the En­cy­clopaedists gen­er­al­ly have ceased to be re­gard­ed with un­qual­ified sus­pi­cion by those who count them­selves or­tho­dox. It is to be ob­served, more­over, that as Alem­bert con­fined him­self chiefly to math­emat­ical ar­ti­cles, his work laid him less open to charges of heresy and in­fi­deli­ty than that of some of his as­so­ciates. The fullest rev­ela­tion of his re­li­gious con­vic­tions is giv­en in his cor­re­spon­dence with Voltaire, which was pub­lished along with that with Fred­er­ick the Great in Bossange’s edi­tion of his works.

The sci­en­tif­ic works of Alem­bert have nev­er been pub­lished in a col­lect­ed form. The most im­por­tant of them have been men­tioned above, with the ex­cep­tion of the Opus­cules math­ema­tiques (1761-1780), 8 vols. 4to. His lit­er­ary and philo­soph­ical works were col­lect­ed and edit­ed by Bastien (Paris, 1805, 18 vols. 8vo). A bet­ter edi­tion by Bossange was pub­lished at Paris in 1821 (5 vols. 8vo). The best ac­count of the life and writ­ings of Alem­bert is con­tained in Con­dorcet’s El­oge, pre­sent­ed to the Acade­my and pub­lished in 1784.

ALEM­BIC (Arab. al, def­inite ar­ti­cle, an­biq, a still; cog­nate to the Gr. am­bix, a cup), an ap­pa­ra­tus for dis­til­la­tion, used chiefly by the al­chemists, and now su­per­seded by the re­tort and the worm-​still. It var­ied con­sid­er­ably in form and con­struc­tion, but con­sist­ed es­sen­tial­ly of three parts–a ves­sel con­tain­ing the ma­te­ri­al to be dis­tilled and called, from its gourd-​like shape, the cu­cur­bit or mat­trass; a ves­sel to re­ceive and con­dense the vapour, called the head or cap­ital; and a re­ceiv­er for the spir­it, con­nect­ed by a pipe with the cap­ital. The en­tire ap­pa­ra­tus was some­times con­struct­ed of glass, but it was more usu­al to make the cu­cur­bit of cop­per or earth­en­ware, and the cap­ital alone of glass.

ALEMTE­JO (i.e. “Be­yond the Tagus”), an an­cient province of cen­tral and south­ern Por­tu­gal; bound­ed on the N. by Beira, E. by Span­ish Es­tremadu­ra and An­dalu­sia, S. by Al­garve and W. by the At­lantic Ocean and Por­tuguese Es­tremadu­ra. Pop. (1900) 416,105; area 9219 sq. m. Alemte­jo is tra­versed by sev­er­al moun­tain ranges, whose height does not gen­er­al­ly rise much above 2000 ft. The low and sandy coast has a length of less than 25 m. and in­cludes no har­bour, ex­cept at the unim­por­tant town of Vil­la No­va de Mil­fontes (pop. 1900, 825), which over­looks the Mi­ra es­tu­ary. The prin­ci­pal rivers are the Tagus, which di­vides Alemte­jo from Beira; its trib­utary the Zatas, or Sor­ra­ia, fed by a whole sys­tem of less­er af­flu­ents; the Gua­di­ana, which, cross­ing the Span­ish fron­tier, flows south­wards through the province; the Sa­do, which ris­es in the Ser­ra de Monchique, and flows to the north; and the Mi­ra, which wa­ters the val­ley be­tween the Caldeirao and Monchique ranges. There are sev­er­al ex­ten­sive plains, no­tably those of Alemte­jo, ly­ing south-​west of the Ser­ra de Por­tale­gre; of Be­ja, be­tween the Sa­do and Gua­di­ana; and of Ourique, far­ther south be­tween the same rivers. Some por­tions of these plains are fruit­ful, oth­ers marshy, while large tracts are mere des­olate wastes.

The cli­mate in the low­er parts of the coun­try is ex­ceed­ing­ly hot and is ren­dered un­healthy in sum­mer by the stag­nant marsh­es. To­wards the Span­ish fron­tier the soil is fer­tile, and in the south the coun­try is cov­ered by ex­ten­sive forests of oak, pine, chest­nut, cork and ilex, es­pe­cial­ly on the sides of the Mezqui­ta and Caldeirao ranges. In the more fer­tile parts, grapes, figs, cit­rons, pomegranates and oth­er fruits are pro­duced. Wheat, maize and rice are grown, and some at­ten­tion is giv­en to the rear­ing of mules, ass­es, goats, cat­tle and sheep; while the Al­ter breed of hors­es, named af­ter the vil­lages of Al­ter do Chao and Al­ter Pe­droso (3971), near Por­tale­gre, is of­ten ac­count­ed the best in the king­dom. Agri­cul­ture, how­ev­er, is in a back­ward state, the sparse pop­ula­tion be­ing most­ly con­cen­trat­ed in the towns, leav­ing ex­ten­sive dis­tricts un­cul­ti­vat­ed and al­most un­in­hab­it­ed. Droves of swine are fed on the waste lands, grow­ing to a great size and af­ford­ing ex­cel­lent hams. The min­er­al wealth of Alemte­jo is lit­tle ex­ploit­ed, al­though there are cop­per and iron mines and mar­ble quar­ries. Medic­inal springs ex­ist at Aljus­trel (3790), Castel­lo de Vide (5192), Mer­to­la (3873), Por­tale­gre, Vimieiro (1838) and else­where. Chief among the lo­cal in­dus­tries are the prepa­ra­tion of ex­cep­tion­al­ly fine olive oil, and the man­ufac­ture of cloth, pot­tery and leather. Alemte­jo is tra­versed by three very im­por­tant main lines of rail­way, the Madrid-​Cac­eres-​Lis­bon, Madrid-​Bada­joz-​Lis­bon and Lis­bon-​Faro; while the two last are con­nect­ed by a branch line from Casa Bran­ca to Evo­ra and El­vas. For ad­min­is­tra­tive pur­pos­es the province is di­vid­ed in­to the dis­tricts of Por­tale­gre in the north, Evo­ra in the cen­tral re­gion and Be­ja in the south; but the ti­tles of these new dis­tricts have not su­per­seded the an­cient name of Alemte­jo in or­di­nary us­age. The chief towns Be­ja (8885), El­vas (13,981), Es­tremoz (7920), Evo­ra (16,020) and Por­tale­gre (11,820) are de­scribed in sep­arate ar­ti­cles.

ALEN­CON, COUNTS AND DUKES OF. The first line of the counts of Alen­con was found­ed by Yves, lord of Bellesme, who in the mid­dle of the 10th cen­tu­ry pos­sessed and for­ti­fied the town of Alen­con. His suc­ces­sors, in­volved in all the wars of the kings of Eng­land in Nor­mandy, were al­ter­nate­ly de­prived and re­pos­sessed of their do­mains, ac­cord­ing to the fluc­tu­ations of for­tune be­tween the ri­val par­ties. Ma­bille, count­ess of Alen­con and heiress of this fam­ily (d. 1082 ), mar­ried Roger of Mont­gomery, and from them de­scend­ed a sec­ond house of Alen­con which be­came ex­tinct in the per­son of Robert IV.; the coun­ty of Alen­con was then joined to the roy­al do­main. It was suc­ces­sive­ly grant­ed as an ap­panage to Pe­ter, son of St Louis (1268), and to Charles, count of Val­ois, broth­er of Philip the Fair (1293). The third house of Alen­con sprang from Charles, sec­ond son of the count of Val­ois, who was killed at the bat­tle of Cre­cy in 1346. The countship of Alen­con was raised to a peer­age in 1367 and in­to a duke­dom in 1414. John, 1st duke of Alen­con, was killed at Ag­in­court on the 25th of Oc­to­ber 1415, af­ter hav­ing with his own hand slain the duke of York. His son, al­so named John, was dis­pos­sessed of his duchy by the king of Eng­land, but re­con­quered it in 1449. In 1524 the duke­dom of Alen­con re­vert­ed to the crown, in con­se­quence of the death of the duke Charles IV. with­out is­sue of his mar­riage with Mar­garet, sis­ter of Fran­cis I. It was giv­en as a join­ture to Cather­ine de’Medi­ci in 1559, and as an ap­panage to her son Fran­cis in 1566. It was pawned by Hen­ry IV. to the duke of Wurt­tem­berg, and sub­se­quent­ly it passed to Gas­ton, duke of Or­leans, by grant of Louis XI­II.; to Eliz­abeth of Or­leans, duchess of Guise; to Charles, duke of Berry, grand­son of Louis XIV. (1710); and to Mon­sieur (Louis XVI­II.), broth­er of Louis XVI.

The ti­tle of duc d’Alen­con was giv­en to Fer­di­nand of Or­leans, son of the duc de Nemours, and grand­son of Louis-​Philippe. (M. P.*)

ALEN­CON, a town of north-​west­ern France, cap­ital of the de­part­ment of Orne, 36 m. N. of Le Mans on a branch line of the West­ern rail­way. Pop (1906) 14,378. Alen­con, a clean, reg­ular­ly built town with broad hand­some streets, is sit­uat­ed in a wide and fer­tile plain, on the Sarthe at its con­flu­ence with the Bri­ante. The on­ly re­mains of the an­cient cas­tle of Alen­con are two tow­ers of the 15th cen­tu­ry, which serve as a prison, and a third of the 14th cen­tu­ry known as the Tour Couron­nee, to which they are unit­ed. Notre-​Dame, the chief church, dates from the 15th cen­tu­ry. It is re­mark­able for a porch or­na­ment­ed in the rich­est Goth­ic style, and for its stained win­dows of the 16th cen­tu­ry. Alen­con has a large cir­cu­lar corn-​mar­ket and a cloth- mar­ket. The man­ufac­ture of the point d’Alen­con lace has great­ly di­min­ished. The weav­ing and bleach­ing of cloth, which is of less im­por­tance than for­mer­ly, the man­ufac­ture of ve­hi­cles, and tan­ning are car­ried on; there is a large trade in the hors­es of the dis­trict, and gran­ite is worked in the neigh­bour­hood. Alen­con is the seat of a pre­fect and a court of as­sizes. It has tri­bunals of first in­stance and of com­merce, a board of trade-​ar­bi­tra­tors, a lycee, train­ing-​col­leges and a cham­ber of arts and man­ufac­tures.

ALE­NIO, GIULIO (1582-1649), Ital­ian Je­suit mis­sion­ary, was born at Bres­cia. He en­tered the So­ci­ety of Je­sus and was sent to the East. He land­ed at Macao in 1610, and while wait­ing a favourable op­por­tu­ni­ty to pen­etrate in­to Chi­na bus­ied him­self for three years in teach­ing math­emat­ics. His thir­ty years’ res­idence in Chi­na was marked by un­ceas­ing zeal and con­sid­er­able suc­cess. He adopt­ed the dress and man­ners of the coun­try, was the first Chris­tian mis­sion­ary in Kiang-​si, and built sev­er­al church­es in Fo-​Kien. He wrote in Chi­nese a Life of Christ (Pekin, 1635-1637, 8 vols.; of­ten reprint­ed, e.g. in 1887 in 3 vols., and used even by Protes­tant mis­sion­ar­ies) and a cos­mog­ra­phy (Iche fang wai ki Hang-​chow, 1623, 6 vols.), which was trans­lat­ed in­to Manchu un­der the ti­tle The True Ori­gin of 10,000 Things, a copy of which was sent from Pekin to Paris in 1789. Ale­nio died at Fu-​chow in 1649.

For bib­li­og­ra­phy see de Back­er and Som­mer­vo­gel, Bibl. de la Cie. de Je­sus, i. 158-160.

ALEP­PO (na­tive Haleb.) (1) A vi­layet of Asi­at­ic Turkey, com­pris­ing N. Syr­ia and N.W. Mesopotamia, with an ex­ten­sion N. of Tau­rus to the neigh­bour­hood of Gorun. It com­pris­es three san­jaks, Alep­po, Marash and Ur­fa. About half is moun­tain, but there are fer­tile plains of great ex­tent N. of An­takia, S. of Marash and around the city of Alep­po (see be­low). The on­ly sea­port of im­por­tance is Alexan­dret­ta (q.v..) The ex­ports are, on the av­er­age, over one mil­lion ster­ling, and im­ports about dou­ble in val­ue. The set­tled pop­ula­tion is bare­ly a mil­lion; but there is a con­sid­er­able un­set­tled el­ement in the S.E. which can­not well be es­ti­mat­ed. The Chris­tians, main­ly Ja­co­bite Syr­ian, but in­clud­ing al­so Ar­me­ni­ans of sev­er­al de­nom­ina­tions (e.g. those of Marash and Zeitun), Ma­ronites and Greeks, form about one-​fifth. There are some 20,000 Jews, res­ident chiefly in the provin­cial cap­ital; and of the Moslem ma­jor­ity the bulk is Arab, Turko­man and Ansarieh. In the N.W. and N. is a con­sid­er­able Kur­dish pop­ula­tion.

(2) The provin­cial cap­ital (anc. Khalep; Gr. Chaljbon- Beroea), sit­uat­ed on a plateau in the val­ley of the Kuwaik (anc. Chalus) about 10 m. above its dis­si­pa­tion in the great salt-​marsh of Matkh. Pop. about 130,000, three-​quar­ters Moslem. Alep­po is about mid­way be­tween the sea and the Eu­phrates, a lit­tle near­er the lat­ter.

The mod­ern city stands on both banks of the Kuwaik, and the old­er por­tions are con­tained with­in a Saracenic wall, 3 1/2 m. in cir­cuit with sev­en gates. The Eu­ro­pean res­idents and Chris­tians live out­side in the Kitab and new Az­izieh quar­ters, and the Jews in that of Bah­si­ta. A mod­ern citadel oc­cu­pies the N.W., the me­dieval cas­tle on its mound (part­ly ar­ti­fi­cial and not a strong po­si­tion, ac­cord­ing to Is­takhri) be­ing al­most de­sert­ed but still for­bid­den to vis­itors. There are two mosques of spe­cial in­ter­est–the Umawi (or Za­karia) on the site of a church as­cribed to the em­press He­le­na and con­tain­ing a tomb re­put­ed to be that of the Bap­tist’s fa­ther, and the Kakun. Many mi­nor ones serve the needs of a pop­ula­tion tra­di­tion­al­ly fa­nat­ical. Gar­dens ex­tend for miles along the riv­er, and the bazaars and khans are un­usu­al­ly large. The cli­mate is cold, dry and healthy, de­spite the preva­lence of the fa­mous “Alep­po but­ton,” a swelling which ap­pears ei­ther on the face or on the hands, and breaks in­to an ul­cer which lasts a year and leaves a per­ma­nent scar. It has been as­cribed to a fly, to the wa­ter and to oth­er caus­es; but it is not pe­cu­liar to Alep­po, be­ing rife al­so at Aintab, Bag­dad, &c.

The at­tempt made by the British Eu­phrates ex­pe­di­tion in 1841 to con­nect Alep­po with the sea by steam­er through the near­est point on the Eu­phrates, Me­sk­ine, failed ow­ing to the ob­struct­ed state of the stream and the in­se­cu­ri­ty of the ri­par­ian dis­tricts. The lat­ter draw­back has been min­imized by the con­tin­ued suc­cess of the Alep­po ad­min­is­tra­tion in in­duc­ing the Anazeh Bedouins to be­come fel­lahin; but riv­er traf­fic has not been re­sumed. A rail­way, how­ev­er, con­nects south­ward with the Beirut-​Dam­as­cus line at Rayak. Alep­po is an im­por­tant con­sular sta­tion for all Eu­ro­pean pow­ers, the res­idence of the Greek and Ar­me­ni­an Pa­tri­archs of An­ti­och, and of Ja­co­bite and Ma­ronite bish­ops, and a sta­tion of Ro­man Catholic and Protes­tant mis­sions. It is the em­po­ri­um of N. Syr­ia, and man­ufac­tures tex­tiles in silk, cot­ton and wool, car­pets and leather com­modi­ties, be­sides be­ing the cen­tre of a large dis­trict grow­ing ce­re­als, pis­ta­chios and fruit. The Turks re­gard it as one of the strongholds of their do­min­ion and faith, and a fu­ture cap­ital of their em­pire should they be forced in­to Asia. As a cen­tre from which good nat­ural roads lead N., N.E., W. and S., Alep­po would make a good cap­ital.

His­to­ry and Re­mains.–The site lies high (1400 ft.) on eight hillocks in a fer­tile oa­sis plain, be­yond which stretch on the S. and S.E. grassy steppes merg­ing ere long in­to desert, and on the oth­er quar­ters rather ster­ile downs. It has su­per­seded An­ti­och as the eco­nom­ic cen­tre of N. Syr­ia, and Palmyra as the great road-​sta­tion for east­ern car­avans. But it is rather a re­vived than a new cap­ital; Khalep was a very an­cient Syr­ian and prob­ably “Hit­tite” city of im­por­tance, known from Baby­lo­ni­an, As­syr­ian and Egyp­tian records. Se­leu­cus Nica­tor gave it a Mace­do­nian name, Beroea; but Chal­cis, some dis­tance S., was the cap­ital of the province, Chal­cidice (lat­er, Kin­nas­rin), in which it lay, and the cen­tre of that hel­lenized re­gion, now a vast field of ru­ins, which stretch­es W. to the Orontes. Khalep-​Beroea, we may in­fer, re­mained a na­tive town and a fo­cus of Ara­ma­ic in­flu­ence, a fact which will ex­plain the speedy obliv­ion of its Mace­do­nian name and the per­ma­nent re­vival of its an­cient ti­tle, even by Greeks.

As Beroea we hear of the place in Se­leu­cid wars and dis­sen­sions. There Menelaus, the fo­menter of war with the As­moneans, was put to death by Lysias in 164 B. C., “as the man­ner is in that place” (Macc. ii. 13. 4), be­ing thrown in­to a lofty tow­er full of cin­ders. There Her­acleon, the court favourite and mur­der­er of An­ti­ochus Gry­pus, was born and made him­self a prin­ci­pal­ity (96 B.C.); and there the son of the lat­ter king be­sieged his broth­er Philip in the last strug­gle for the her­itage of Se­leu­cus. As Chaly­bon, the town is called by Ptole­my head of a dis­trict, Chaly­boni­tis; but we con­tin­ue to hear of it as Beroea up to the Arab con­quest, e.g. in the his­to­ry of Ju­lian’s east­ward march in A.D. 363, and in that of the Per­sian raid of 540. It was oc­cu­pied in 611 by Chos­roes II. Over­whelmed by the Sara­cen flood in A.D. 638, Beroea dis­ap­pears, and as Moslem so­ci­ety set­tles down Halep emerges again as the great gath­er­ing-​place of car­avans pass­ing from Asia Mi­nor and Syr­ia to Mesopotamia, Bag­dad and the Per­sian and In­di­an king­doms. Like An­ti­och it suf­fered from earth­quakes, and late in the 12th cen­tu­ry, af­ter a ter­ri­ble shock, had to be re­built by Nur ed-​Din. But nei­ther earth­quakes nor the plague, to which it was al­so pe­cu­liar­ly li­able, could di­vert trade and pros­per­ity from it. It be­longed to the East­ern Caliphate (the Hanidanids) un­til tem­porar­ily re­oc­cu­pied by John Zimisces, em­per­or of Byzan­tium and a na­tive of neigh­bour­ing Hi­er­apo­lis (q.v.), A.D. 974, af­ter an abortive at­tempt by Nicepho­rus thir­teen years ear­li­er. Thir­teen years lat­er it rec­og­nized and re­ceived the Fa­timites, and passed un­der var­ious Moslem dy­nas­ties, form­ing part of the Seljuk do­min­ion from 1090 to 1117. The cru­sad­ing princes of An­ti­och nev­er held the place, though they at­tacked it in 1124; and Sal­adin, who took it in 1183, made it a stronghold against them and the north­ern cap­ital of him­self and his suc­ces­sors un­til the Tatar in­va­sion of 1260. There­after the Mamelukes took and kept pos­ses­sion, de­spite the re­newed Tatar in­road of 1401, un­til the fi­nal con­quest by the Ot­tomans in 1517. Un­der the strong hand of the lat­ter the trade of Alep­po with the East re­vived. One of the first provin­cial fac­to­ries and con­sulates of the British Turkey (Lev­ant) Com­pa­ny was es­tab­lished there in the reign of James I.; and a British agent had been in res­idence there even in Eliz­abeth’s time. As the east­ern out­post of the com­pa­ny’s op­er­ations, it was con­nect­ed with the west­ern out­post of the East In­dia Com­pa­ny in Bag­dad by a pri­vate postal ser­vice, and its name be­came very fa­mil­iar in Eng­land from the part that its mer­chants (large­ly Jew­ish) bore in the trans­mis­sion of East­ern prod­ucts to Eu­rope (cf., e.g. Shake­speare, Macb. i. 3. 7; Oth. v. 2. 352). Through it passed the silks of Bam­byce, called bom­bazines, the light tex­tiles of Mo­sul (mo­su­lines–muslins) and many oth­er com­modi­ties for the wealthy and lux­uri­ous. The first blow was struck at this trade by the dis­cov­ery of the Cape route to In­dia; the sec­ond by the open­ing of a land route through Egypt to the Red Sea; the third and fi­nal one by the mak­ing of the Suez Canal. Long ere this last event, how­ev­er, Alep­po had been de­clin­ing from in­ter­nal caus­es. In the lat­ter part of the 18th cen­tu­ry and the first years of the 19th it was con­stant­ly the scene of bloody dis­sen­sions be­tween two ri­val par­ties, one led by the lo­cal janis­saries, the oth­er by the sher­ifs (re­li­gious); and the Ot­toman gov­er­nors took the side, now of one, now of the oth­er, in or­der to plun­der a dis­tract­ed city, too far re­moved from the cen­tre to be con­trolled by the sul­tans, and too near the re­bel­lious pasha­lik of Acre and the un­set­tled dis­trict of Lebanon not to be af­fect­ed by the dis­or­ders nat­ural to a fron­tier province. This state of things led to the sus­pen­sion of the British con­sulate by the Turkey Com­pa­ny in 1791; and it was not re­vived till 1800, af­ter which date till 1825 it was main­tained joint­ly by the East In­dia Com­pa­ny. In 1803 Jez­zar of Acre ad­vanced as near as Hamah; but his death oc­curred in the fol­low­ing year; and af­ter a san­guinary ris­ing in 1805, Alep­po set­tled down, but was not at peace, even af­ter a lo­cal janis­sary mas­sacre in 1814, till Mah­mud II. had dealt fi­nal­ly with the corps at head­quar­ters (1826). Mean­while there had been a fright­ful earth­quake in 1822, and a vis­ita­tion of cholera in the fol­low­ing year. More cholera in 1827 and 1832 and an­oth­er earth­quake in 1830 had left the place a wreck, with on­ly half its for­mer pop­ula­tion, when Mehemet Ali of Cairo in­vad­ed and took Syr­ia. Alep­po shared, and to some ex­tent head­ed, the Syr­ian dis­con­tent with Egyp­tian rule, and was strong­ly held by troops whose huge bar­racks are still one of the sights of the city. Ready to rise be­hind Ibrahim Pasha in 1839, it was on­ly pre­vent­ed by the news of Nez­ib. Tu­mults and mas­sacres of Chris­tians oc­curred in 1850 and 1862, ac­com­pa­nied by great de­struc­tion of prop­er­ty; but on the whole, since the con­sol­ida­tion of Ot­toman rule over Syr­ia by Ab­dul Mejid’s min­is­ters, Alep­po has been re­viv­ing, al­though its trade is more lo­cal than of old.

BIB­LI­OG­RA­PHY.–F. R. Ches­ney, The Eu­phrates Ex­pe­di­tion (1850) H. Guys, Statis­tique du Pacha­lik d’Alep (1853), and Es­quisse de l’etat de la Syrie (1862); E. B. B. Bark­er, Syr­ia and Egypt (1876); W. F. Ainsworth, Per­son­al Nar­ra­tive of the Eu­phrates Ex­pe­di­tion (1888); E. R. Be­van, Heuse of Se­leu­cas (1902); G. le Strange, Pales­tine un­der the Moslems (1890). (D. G. H.)

ALES (ALE­SIUS), ALEXAN­DER (1500-1565), Scot­tish di­vine of the school of Augs­burg, whose fam­ily name was ALANE, was born at Ed­in­burgh on the 23rd of April 1500. He stud­ied at St An­drews in the new­ly-​found­ed col­lege of St Leonard’s, where he grad­uat­ed in 1515. Some time af­ter­wards he was ap­point­ed a canon of the col­le­giate church, and at first con­tend­ed vig­or­ous­ly for the scholas­tic the­ol­ogy as against the doc­trines of the Re­form­ers. His views were en­tire­ly changed, how­ev­er, on the ex­ecu­tion of Patrick Hamil­ton, ab­bot of Fern, in 1528. He had been cho­sen to meet Hamil­ton in con­tro­ver­sy, with a view to con­vinc­ing him of his er­rors, but the ar­gu­ments of the Scot­tish pro­to-​mar­tyr, and above all the spec­ta­cle of his hero­ism at the stake, im­pressed Ale­sius so pow­er­ful­ly that he was en­tire­ly won over to the cause of the Re­form­ers. A ser­mon which he preached be­fore the Syn­od at St An­drews against the dis­so­lute­ness of the cler­gy gave great of­fence to the provost, who cast him in­to prison, and might have car­ried his re­sent­ment to the ex­tremest lim­it had not Ale­sius con­trived to es­cape to Ger­many in 1532. Af­ter trav­el­ling in var­ious coun­tries of north­ern Eu­rope, he set­tled down at Wit­ten­berg, where he made the ac­quain­tance of Luther and Melanchthon, and signed the Augs­burg con­fes­sion. Mean­while he was tried in Scot­land for heresy and con­demned with­out a hear­ing. In 1533 a de­cree of the Scot­tish cler­gy, pro­hibit­ing the read­ing of the New Tes­ta­ment by the laity, drew from Ale­sius a de­fence of the right of the peo­ple, in the form of a let­ter to James V. A re­ply to this by John Cochlaeus, al­so ad­dressed to the Scot­tish king, oc­ca­sioned a sec­ond let­ter from Ale­sius, in which he not on­ly am­pli­fies his ar­gu­ment with great force, but en­ters in­to more gen­er­al ques­tions con­nect­ed with the Ref­or­ma­tion. In Au­gust 1534 he and a few oth­ers were ex­com­mu­ni­cat­ed at Holy­rood by the deputy of the arch­bish­op of St An­drews. When Hen­ry VI­II. broke with the church of Rome Ale­sius was in­duced to go to Eng­land, where he was very cor­dial­ly re­ceived (Au­gust 1535) by the king and his ad­vis­ers Cran­mer and Thomas Cromwell. Af­ter a short res­idence at Lam­beth he was ap­point­ed, through the in­flu­ence of Cromwell, then chan­cel­lor of the uni­ver­si­ty, to lec­ture on the­ol­ogy at Cam­bridge; but when he had de­liv­ered a few ex­po­si­tions of the He­brew psalms, he was com­pelled by the op­po­si­tion of the pa­pal par­ty to de­sist. Re­turn­ing to Lon­don he sup­port­ed him­self for some time by prac­tis­ing as a physi­cian. In 1537 he at­tend­ed a con­vo­ca­tion of the cler­gy, and at the re­quest of Cromwell con­duct­ed a con­tro­ver­sy with Stokesley, bish­op of Lon­don, on the na­ture of the sacra­ments. His ar­gu­ment was af­ter­wards pub­lished un­der the ti­tle Of the Auc­torite of the Word of God con­cern­ing the num­ber of the Sacra­ments. In 1539 Ale­sius was com­pelled to flee for the sec­ond time to Ger­many, in con­se­quence of the en­act­ment of the statute of the Six Ar­ti­cles. He was ap­point­ed to a the­olog­ical chair in the uni­ver­si­ty of Frank­fort-​on-​Oder, where he was the first pro­fes­sor who taught the re­formed doc­trines. In 1543 he quit­ted Frank­fort for a sim­ilar po­si­tion at Leipzig, his con­tention that it was the du­ty of the civ­il mag­is­trate to pun­ish for­ni­ca­tion, and his sud­den de­par­ture, hav­ing giv­en of­fence to the au­thor­ities of the for­mer uni­ver­si­ty. He was in Eng­land again for a short time dur­ing Ed­ward VI.’s reign, and was com­mis­sioned by Cran­mer to make a Latin ver­sion of the First Prayer-​Book (1549) for the in­for­ma­tion of Bucer, whose opin­ion was de­sired. He died at Leipzig on the 17th of March 1565.

Ale­sius was the au­thor of a large num­ber of ex­eget­ical, dog­mat­ic and polem­ical works, of which over twen­ty are men­tioned by Bale in his List of En­glish Writ­ers. (See al­so the British Mu­se­um cat­alogue.) In his con­tro­ver­sial works he up­holds the syn­er­gis­tic views of the Scot­tish the­olo­gian John Ma­jor. He dis­played his in­ter­est in his na­tive land by the pub­li­ca­tion of a Co­hor­ta­tio ad Con­cor­diam Pietatis, mis­sa in Pa­tri­am suam (1544), which had the ex­press ap­proval of Luther, and a Co­hor­ta­tio ad Pietatis Con­cor­diam ine­un­dam (1559).

The best ear­ly ac­count of Ale­sius is the Ora­tio de Alexan­dro Ale­sio of Ja­cob Thoma­sius (April 1661), print­ed in the lat­ter’s Ora­tiones (No. XIV., Leipzia, 1683): the best mod­ern ac­count is by Dr A. W. Ward in the Dic­tio­nary of Na­tion­al Bi­og­ra­phy. See al­so A. F. Mitchell’s in­tro­duc­tion to Gau’s Richt Vay (Scot­tish Text So­ci­ety, 1888).

ALE­SIA, the an­cient name for a hill in cen­tral France, now Alise-​Ste-​Reine (de­part­ment Cote d’Or), where in 52 B.C. Cae­sar be­sieged the Gaul­ish na­tion­al lead­er Vercinge­torix with­in enor­mous en­trench­ments, forced him to sur­ren­der, and thus prac­ti­cal­ly end­ed his con­quest of Gaul. The siege-​works have been ex­ca­vat­ed by Napoleon III. and oth­ers, down to the present day. The site seems to have been in­hab­it­ed al­so dur­ing the Ro­man em­pire, but its im­por­tance is lim­it­ed to Cae­sar’s siege.

ALESSAN­DRI, ALESSAN­DRO (ALEXAN­DER AB ALEXAN­DRO) (1461-1523), Ital­ian ju­rist, was born at Naples about the year 1461. He stud­ied law at Naples and Rome, and af­ter­wards prac­tised for a time as ad­vo­cate in both cities. He is said to have been roy­al pro­to-​no­tary at Naples in 1490. Dis­sat­is­fied, ac­cord­ing to his own ac­count, with the cor­rupt ad­min­is­tra­tion of jus­tice, he at length quit­ted the bar and de­vot­ed him­self en­tire­ly to lit­er­ary pur­suits, es­pe­cial­ly to the study of philol­ogy and an­tiq­ui­ties. A sinecure ap­point­ment, which he owed to the favour of the pope, en­abled him to lead a life of learned leisure at Rome, where he died on the 2nd of Oc­to­ber 1523. His work en­ti­tled Dies Ge­niales ap­peared at Rome in 1522, and was con­struct­ed af­ter the mod­el of the Noctes At­ti­cae of Aulus Gel­lius, and the Sat­ur­na­lia of Mac­ro­bius. It con­sists of a con­fused mass of het­ero­ge­neous ma­te­ri­als re­lat­ing to philol­ogy, an­tiq­ui­ties, law, dreams, spec­tres, &c., and is char­ac­ter­ized by con­sid­er­able creduli­ty.

ALESSAN­DRIA, a city and epis­co­pal see of Pied­mont, Italy, cap­ital of a province which bears its name, sit­uat­ed on the riv­er Tanaro, 57 m. E. by S. of Turin by rail. Pop. (1901) 71,298, of which about half re­side in the ac­tu­al town: the rest are dis­tribut­ed over the sub­urbs. Alessan­dria was found­ed in 1168 by the in­hab­itants of the dis­trict in or­der to de­fend them­selves against the mar­quis of Mon­fer­ra­to and the town of Pavia, at whose re­quest it was be­sieged in 1174 by Fred­er­ick Bar­barossa for six months, but with­out suc­cess. The Lom­bard League now in­clud­ed it among the al­lied cities and named it Alessan­dria, af­ter Pope Alexan­der III. The tra­di­tion­al ac­count of its foun­da­tion by the Lom­bard League has been dis­proved by F. Graf, Die Grun­dung Alessan­drias: ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des Lom­bar­den­bunides (1888). Af­ter falling in­to var­ious hands, it was ced­ed to Savoy by the peace of Utrecht in 1713, and its citadel was be­gun in 1728. Dur­ing the French oc­cu­pa­tion (1800-1814), which be­gan af­ter the bat­tle of Maren­go, it was still more strong­ly for­ti­fied; the works were en­tire­ly de­stroyed by the Aus­tri­ans in 1815, but were af­ter­wards re­con­struct­ed, and Alessan­dria is still an im­por­tant fortress and the head­quar­ters of the sec­ond army corps. The citadel is on the left bank of the Tanaro, the town be­ing on the right bank. It is reg­ular­ly built and con­tains few build­ings of ar­chi­tec­tural in­ter­est, but is a flour­ish­ing and im­por­tant com­mer­cial town, not mere­ly ow­ing to its own man­ufac­tures (which are mis­cel­la­neous) but for the prod­ucts of the dis­trict, and one of the great­est rail­way cen­tres in Italy. Lines di­verge from it to Turin via Asti, to Valen­za (and thence to Ver­cel­li, Mor­tara–for No­vara or Mi­lan–and Pavia), to Tor­tona, to Novi, to Ac­qui and to Bra.

ALESSI, GALEAZ­ZO (1512-1572), Ital­ian ar­chi­tect, was born at Pe­ru­gia, and was prob­ably a pupil of Ca­po­rali. He was an en­thu­si­as­tic stu­dent of an­cient ar­chi­tec­ture, and his style gained for him a Eu­ro­pean rep­uta­tion. Genoa is in­debt­ed to him for a num­ber of its most mag­nif­icent palaces, and spec­imens of his skill may be seen in the church­es of San Pao­lo and San­ta Vit­to­ria at Mi­lan, in cer­tain parts of the Es­cu­ri­al, and in nu­mer­ous church­es and palaces through­out Sici­ly, Flan­ders and Ger­many.

See Rossi, Di Galeaz­zo Alessi mem­orie (Pe­ru­gia, 1873).

ALETHI­OL­OGY (from the Gr. aletheia, truth), an un­com­mon ex­pres­sion for the doc­trine of truth, used by Sir William Hamil­ton in his philo­soph­ic writ­ings when treat­ing of the rules for the dis­crim­ina­tion of truth and er­ror.

ALETRI­UM (mod. Ala­tri), a town of the Her­ni­ci, about 6 m. due N. of Frusi­no, Italy, men­tioned in 306 B.C. for its fi­deli­ty to Rome. In Ci­cero’s time it was a mu­nicip­ium, and con­tin­ued in this po­si­tion through­out the im­pe­ri­al pe­ri­od. It is chiefly re­mark­able for its fine­ly pre­served for­ti­fi­ca­tions con­struct­ed of tetra­he­dral and polyg­onal blocks of lo­cal lime­stone well joint­ed, with max­imum di­men­sions of about 3 by 1 1/2 ft.; the out­er cir­cuit of the city wall mea­sures about 2 1/2 m. It is al­most en­tire­ly an em­bank­ing wall, as is the rule in the cities of this part of Italy, with a max­imum height, prob­ably, of about 30 ft. Two of the gates (of which there were per­haps five) are still to some ex­tent pre­served, and three posterns are to be found. In the cen­tre of the city ris­es a hill (1647 ft.) which was adopt­ed as the citadel. Re­mains of the for­ti­fi­ca­tions of three suc­ces­sive pe­ri­ods can be traced, of which the last, per­haps a lit­tle more re­cent than that of the city wall, is the best pre­served. In the first two pe­ri­ods the con­struc­tion is rough, while in the third the blocks are very well and fine­ly joint­ed, and the faces smoothed; they are most­ly polyg­onal in form and are much larg­er (the max­imum about 10 by 6 ft.) than those of the city wall. A flat sur­face was formed part­ly by smooth­ing off the rock and part­ly by the erec­tion of huge ter­race walls which rise to a height of over 50 ft., en­clos­ing a rough­ly rect­an­gu­lar area of 235 by 115 yds. Two ap­proach­es to the citadel were con­struct­ed, both pass­ing through the wall; the open­ings of both are rect­an­gu­lar. The ar­chi­trave of the larg­er, known as Por­ta di Civi­ta, mea­sures about 17 ft. in length, 5 ft. in height, 6 ft. in thick­ness; while that of the small­er is dec­orat­ed with three phal­li in re­lief. Lat­er, though prob­ably in an­cient times, a ramp was added on the north­ern side. In the cen­tre of the arx was a build­ing on the site of the present cathe­dral, of which on­ly a small por­tion is pre­served. Re­mains of a high-​pres­sure aque­duct, which sup­plied the town with wa­ter and was con­struct­ed with oth­er pub­lic build­ings (Corp. In­scr. Lat. x., Berlin, 1883, p. 5807) by L. Betilienus Varus, may still be traced. A tem­ple was ex­ca­vat­ed in 1889 about 1/2 m. to the north of the town and many frag­ments of the paint­ed ter­ra-​cot­tas with which it was dec­orat­ed were found. A re­con­struc­tion of it has been erect­ed in the Museo di Vil­la Giu­lia at Rome. The present town (pop. in 1901, 15,322) has a pic­turesque as­pect, and con­tains many build­ings in the Goth­ic style.

See R. Bas­sel, Cen­tral­blatt der Bau­ver­wal­tung, 1881, 121, p. 134; H. Win­nefeld, Romis­che Mit­teilun­gen, 1889, 126; G. Fiorel­li in No­tizie degli Scavi, 1882, 417. (T. As.)

ALEU­RITES (Gr. aleu­ri­tus, per­tain­ing to aleu­ron, ground meal, from alein, to grind), a genus of trees be­long­ing to the nat­ural or­der Eu­phor­biaceae. Aleu­rites moluc­cana, or trilo­ba, is wide­ly cul­ti­vat­ed through­out the trop­ical and sub-​trop­ical parts of the world for its fruit, which is about the size of a wal­nut, and con­tains sev­er­al seeds which are rich in oil. The oil is ex­tract­ed and used for food and light; it is known in In­dia as keku­na, and the tree as the “can­dle-​nut.” In the Sand­wich Is­lands the nuts are strung up­on strips of wood and used as torch­es. The oil is ex­port­ed to Eu­rope for can­dle-​mak­ing. A. cor­da­ta flour­ish­es in Chi­na, where it is known as the var­nish- tree, on ac­count of the lac con­tained in its seeds.

ALEU­TIAN IS­LANDS (pos­si­bly from Chukchi ali­at, “is­land”), a chain of small is­lands sit­uat­ed in the North­ern Pa­cif­ic Ocean, and ex­tend­ing about 1200 m. west­ward from the ex­trem­ity of the Alaskan penin­su­la to­ward the penin­su­la of Kam­chat­ka; they con­sti­tute part of the Dis­trict of Alas­ka, U.S.A. The is­lands, of which an al­ter­na­tive col­lec­tive name is the Cather­ine Archipela­go, com­prise four groups–the Fox, An­dreanof, Rat and Near Is­lands. They are all in­clud­ed be­tween 52 deg. and 55 deg. N. lat. and 172 deg. E. and 163 deg. W. long.

The ax­is of the archipela­go near the main­land of Alas­ka has a S.W. trend, but near the 129th merid­ian its di­rec­tion changes to the N.W. This change of di­rec­tion cor­re­sponds to a curve in the line of vol­canic fis­sures which have con­tribut­ed their prod­ucts to the build­ing of the is­lands. Such curved chains are re­peat­ed about the Pa­cif­ic Ocean in the Kurile Is­lands, the Japanese chain, the Philip­pines, &c. The gen­er­al el­eva­tion is great­est in the east­ern is­lands and least in the west­ern. The is­land chain is re­al­ly a west­ern con­tin­ua­tion of the Aleu­tian Range on the main­land.

The great ma­jor­ity of the is­lands bear ev­ident marks of vol­canic ori­gin, and there are nu­mer­ous vol­canic cones on the north side of the chain, some of them ac­tive; many of the is­lands, how­ev­er, are not whol­ly vol­canic, but con­tain crys­talline or sed­imen­ta­ry rocks, and al­so am­ber and beds of lig­nite. The coasts are rocky and surf-​worn and the ap­proach­es are ex­ceed­ing­ly dan­ger­ous, the land ris­ing im­me­di­ate­ly from the coasts to steep, bold moun­tains.

The cli­mate of the is­lands is ocean­ic, with mod­er­ate and fair­ly uni­form tem­per­atures and heavy rain­fall. Fogs are al­most con­stant. The sum­mers are much cool­er than on the main­land at Sit­ka (q.v.), but the win­ter tem­per­ature of the is­lands and of south-​east­ern Alas­ka is very near­ly the same. The mean an­nu­al tem­per­ature for Un­alas­ka, the most im­por­tant is­land of the group, is about 38 deg. F.; be­ing about 30 deg. for Jan­uary and about 52 deg. for Au­gust. The high­est and low­est tem­per­atures record­ed on the is­lands are 78 deg. and 5 deg. . The av­er­age an­nu­al amount of rain­fall is about 80 in., and Un­alas­ka, with about 250 rainy days per year, is said to be the raini­est place with­in the ter­ri­to­ry of the Unit­ed States. The grow­ing sea­son lasts about 135 days, from ear­ly in May till late in Septem­ber, but agri­cul­ture is lim­it­ed to the rais­ing of a few veg­eta­bles. With the ex­cep­tion of some stunt­ed wil­lows the is­lands are prac­ti­cal­ly des­ti­tute of trees, but are cov­ered with a lux­uri­ant growth of herbage, in­clud­ing grass­es, sedges and many flow­er­ing plants. On the less moun­tain­ous is­lands the rais­ing of sheep and rein­deer is be­lieved to be prac­ti­ca­ble. The prin­ci­pal oc­cu­pa­tions of the na­tives have al­ways been fish­ing and hunt­ing, and the wom­en weave bas­ketry of exquisite fine­ness. From the end of the 18th cen­tu­ry the Rus­sian fur traders had set­tle­ments here for the cap­ture of the seal and the sea ot­ter and the blue and the Arc­tic fox. Un­der the Amer­ican regime seal fish­ing off the Aleu­tians save by the na­tives has nev­er been le­gal, but the de­ple­tion of the Pri­bilof herd, the al­most com­plete ex­tinc­tion of the sea ot­ter, and the rapid de­crease of the fox­es and oth­er fur an­imals, have threat­ened the Aleuts (as the na­tives are com­mon­ly called) with star­va­tion. In re­cent years en­ter­pris­ing traders have raised fox­es by cul­ture and by es­pe­cial­ly pro­tect­ing cer­tain small is­lands, and this has fur­nished em­ploy­ment to whole com­mu­ni­ties of na­tives. Fish and sea-​fowl are ex­treme­ly abun­dant.

The na­tives are rather low in stature, but plump and well shaped, with short necks, swarthy faces, black eyes and long black hair. They are a branch of the Es­quimauan fam­ily, but dif­fer great­ly from the Es­ki­mo of the main­land in lan­guage, habits, dis­po­si­tion and men­tal abil­ity. They were good fight­ers un­til they were cowed by the treat­ment of the Rus­sians, who prac­ti­cal­ly re­duced them to slav­ery. Spo­radic ef­forts to Chris­tian­ize the Aleuts were made in the lat­ter half of the 18th cen­tu­ry, but lit­tle im­pres­sion was made be­fore the ar­rival in 1824 of Fa­ther Ivan Venyaminov, who in 1840 be­came the first Greek bish­op of Alas­ka. While the mis­sion­ar­ies of the Greek Church have nom­inal­ly con­vert­ed the na­tives to Chris­tian­ity, white ad­ven­tur­ers have more ef­fec­tu­al­ly con­vert­ed them to var­ious bad habits. In dress and mode of life they have adopt­ed out­ward­ly civ­ilized cus­toms. From the po­si­tion of the Aleu­tian is­lands, stretch­ing like a bro­ken bridge from Asia to Amer­ica, some eth­nol­ogists have sup­posed that by means of them Amer­ica was first peo­pled. Raised shore-​lines, oc­ca­sion­al earth­quakes, and slow mea­sur­able el­eva­tion of the land about ac­tive vol­ca­noes, in­di­cate that el­eva­tion is now in progress, but the ge­olog­ical ev­idence shows no sign of for­mer sub­mer­gence of a con­nect­ing isth­mus. There is gran­ite at the core of the Shaler range of moun­tains in south­ern Un­alas­ka.

It is stat­ed that be­fore the ad­vent of the Rus­sians there were 25,000 Aleuts on the archipela­go, but that the bar­bar­ities of the traders even­tu­al­ly re­duced the pop­ula­tion to one-​tenth of this num­ber. The num­ber of Aleuts in 1890 was re­port­ed as 968; the to­tal pop­ula­tion of the archipela­go in 1900 was 2000.

The prin­ci­pal set­tle­ments are on the Un­alas­ka Is­land. Of these Il­iuliuk (al­so called Un­alas­ka), the old­est, set­tled in 1760-1775, has a cus­tom house, a Rus­sian-​Greek Church, and a Methodist Mis­sion and or­phan­age, and is the head­quar­ters for a con­sid­er­able fleet of Unit­ed States rev­enue cut­ters which pa­trol the seal­ing grounds of the Pri­bilofs; ad­ja­cent is Dutch Har­bor (so named, it is said, be­cause a Dutch ves­sel was the first to en­ter it), which is an im­por­tant port for Bering Sea com­merce. The vol­cano Makushin (5691 ft.) is vis­ible from Il­iuliuk, and the vol­canic islets Bo­goslof and Grew­ingk, which rose from the sea in 1796 and 1883 re­spec­tive­ly, lie about 30 m. W. of the bay. The lat­ter is still ac­tive; in 1906 a new cone rose be­tween the two ear­li­er islets, and in 1907 still an­oth­er: these were near­ly de­mol­ished by an ex­plo­sive erup­tion on the 1st of Septem­ber 1907. The pop­ula­tion of Un­alas­ka Is­land in 1900 was 575 Aleuts and 66 whites. The Com­man­der Is­lands group near the Asi­at­ic coast is ge­ograph­ical­ly, but since the ac­qui­si­tion of the Rus­sian pos­ses­sions in Amer­ica not po­lit­ical­ly, a part of the Aleu­tian sys­tem.

In 1741 the Rus­sian gov­ern­ment sent out Vi­tus Bering, a Dane, and Alex­ei Chirikov, a Rus­sian, in the ships “Saint Pe­ter” and “Saint Paul” on a voy­age of dis­cov­ery in the North­ern Pa­cif­ic. Af­ter the ships were sep­arat­ed by a storm, Chirikov dis­cov­ered sev­er­al east­ern is­lands of the Aleu­tian group, and Bering dis­cov­ered sev­er­al of the west­ern is­lands, fi­nal­ly be­ing wrecked and los­ing his life on the is­land of the Com­man­der group that now bears his name. The sur­vivors of Bering’s par­ty reached Kam­chat­ka in a boat con­struct­ed from the wreck­age of their ship, and re­port­ed that the is­lands were rich in fur-​bear­ing an­imals. Siberi­an fur hunters at once flocked to the Com­man­der Is­lands and grad­ual­ly moved east­ward across the Aleu­tian Is­lands to the main­land. In this man­ner Rus­sia gained a foothold on the north-​west­ern coast of North Amer­ica. The Aleu­tian Is­lands con­se­quent­ly be­longed to Rus­sia, un­til that coun­try in 1867 trans­ferred to the Unit­ed States all its pos­ses­sions in Amer­ica. Dur­ing his third and last voy­age, in 1778, Cap­tain James Cook sur­veyed the east­ern por­tion of the Aleu­tian archipela­go, ac­cu­rate­ly de­ter­mined the po­si­tion of some of the more im­por­tant is­lands and cor­rect­ed many er­rors of for­mer nav­iga­tors. Some pre­lim­inary sur­veys have been made by the Unit­ed States gov­ern­ment with a view to es­tab­lish­ing a naval sta­tion on the is­land Kiska, in the west­ern part of the Aleu­tian Chain.

ALEXAN­DER (ALEXAN­DER OF BAT­TEN­BERG) (1857-1893), first prince of Bul­gar­ia, was the sec­ond son of Prince Alexan­der of Hesse and the Rhine by his mor­ga­nat­ic mar­riage with Ju­lia, count­ess von Hauke. The ti­tle of princess of Bat­ten­berg, de­rived from an old res­idence of the grand-​dukes of Hesse, was con­ferred, with the pre­fix Durch­laucht or “Serene High­ness,” on the count­ess and her de­scen­dants in 1858. Prince Alexan­der, who was born on the 5th of April 1857, was nephew of the tsar Alexan­der II., who had mar­ried a sis­ter of Prince Alexan­der of Hesse; his moth­er, a daugh­ter of Count Moritz von Hauke, had been la­dy-​in-​wait­ing to the tsar­it­sa. In his boy­hood and ear­ly youth he was fre­quent­ly at St Pe­ters­burg, and he ac­com­pa­nied his un­cle, who was much at­tached to him, dur­ing the Bul­gar­ian cam­paign of 1877. When Bul­gar­ia un­der the Berlin Treaty was con­sti­tut­ed an au­tonomous prin­ci­pal­ity un­der the suzerain­ty of Turkey, the tsar rec­om­mend­ed his nephew to the Bul­gar­ians as a can­di­date for the new­ly cre­at­ed throne, and Prince Alexan­der was elect­ed prince of Bul­gar­ia by unan­imous vote of the Grand So­branye (April 29, 1879). He was at that time serv­ing as a lieu­tenant in the Prus­sian life-​guards at Pots­dam. Be­fore pro­ceed­ing to Bul­gar­ia, Prince Alexan­der paid vis­its to the tsar at Li­va­dia, to the courts of the great pow­ers and to the sul­tan; he was then con­veyed on a Rus­sian war­ship to Var­na, and af­ter tak­ing the oath to the new con­sti­tu­tion at Tirno­va (Ju­ly 8, 1879) he re­paired to Sofia, be­ing ev­ery­where greet­ed with im­mense en­thu­si­asm by the peo­ple. (For the po­lit­ical his­to­ry of Prince Alexan­der’s reign, see BUL­GAR­IA.) With­out any pre­vi­ous train­ing in the art of gov­ern­ment, the young prince from the out­set found him­self con­front­ed with dif­fi­cul­ties which would have tried the sagac­ity of an ex­pe­ri­enced ruler. On the one hand he was ex­posed to num­ber­less hu­mil­ia­tions on the part of the rep­re­sen­ta­tives of of­fi­cial Rus­sia, who made it clear to him that he was ex­pect­ed to play the part of a roi faineant; on the oth­er he was com­pelled to make terms with the Bul­gar­ian politi­cians, who, in­tox­icat­ed with new­ly won lib­er­ty, pros­ecut­ed their quar­rels with a crude vi­olence which threat­ened to sub­vert his au­thor­ity and to plunge the na­tion in an­ar­chy. Af­ter at­tempt­ing to gov­ern un­der these con­di­tions for near­ly two years, the prince, with the con­sent of the tsar Alexan­der III., as­sumed ab­so­lute pow­er (May 9, 1881), and a sus­pen­sion of the ul­tra-​demo­crat­ic con­sti­tu­tion for a pe­ri­od of sev­en years was vot­ed by a spe­cial­ly con­vened as­sem­bly (Ju­ly 13). The ex­per­iment, how­ev­er, proved un­suc­cess­ful; the Bul­gar­ian Lib­er­al and Rad­ical politi­cians were in­fu­ri­at­ed, and the re­al pow­er fell in­to the hands of two Rus­sian gen­er­als, Sobolev and Kaulbars, who had been spe­cial­ly despatched from St Pe­ters­burg. The prince, af­ter vain­ly en­deav­our­ing to ob­tain the re­call of the gen­er­als, re­stored the con­sti­tu­tion with the con­cur­rence of all the Bul­gar­ian po­lit­ical par­ties (Septem­ber 18, 1883). A se­ri­ous breach with Rus­sia fol­lowed, which was widened by the part which the prince sub­se­quent­ly played in en­cour­ag­ing the na­tion­al as­pi­ra­tions of the Bul­gar­ians. The rev­olu­tion of Philip­popo­lis (Septem­ber 18, 1885), which brought about the union of East­ern Rumelia with Bul­gar­ia, was car­ried out with his con­sent, and he at once as­sumed the gov­ern­ment of the re­volt­ed province. In the anx­ious year which fol­lowed, the prince gave ev­idence of con­sid­er­able mil­itary and diplo­mat­ic abil­ity. He ral­lied the Bul­gar­ian army, now de­prived of its Rus­sian of­fi­cers, to re­sist the Ser­vian in­va­sion, and af­ter a bril­liant vic­to­ry at Slivnitza (Novem­ber 19) pur­sued King Mi­lan in­to Ser­vian ter­ri­to­ry as far as Pirot, which he cap­tured (Novem­ber 27). Al­though Servia was pro­tect­ed from the con­se­quences of de­feat by the in­ter­ven­tion of Aus­tria, Prince Alexan­der’s suc­cess sealed the union with East­ern Rumelia, and af­ter long ne­go­ti­ations he was nom­inat­ed gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al of that province for five years by the sul­tan (April 5, 1886). This ar­range­ment, how­ev­er, cost him much of his pop­ular­ity in Bul­gar­ia, while dis­con­tent pre­vailed among a cer­tain num­ber of his of­fi­cers, who con­sid­ered them­selves slight­ed in the dis­tri­bu­tion of re­wards at the close of the cam­paign. A mil­itary con­spir­acy was formed, and on the night of the 20th of Au­gust the prince was seized in the palace at Sofia, and com­pelled to sign his ab­di­ca­tion; he was then hur­ried to the Danube at Rakho­vo, trans­port­ed on his yacht to Reni, and hand­ed over to Rus­sian au­thor­ities, by whom he was al­lowed to pro­ceed to Lem­berg. He soon, how­ev­er, re­turned to Bul­gar­ia, ow­ing to the suc­cess of the counter- rev­olu­tion led by Stam­boloff, which over­threw the pro­vi­sion­al gov­ern­ment set up by the Rus­sian par­ty at Sofia. But his po­si­tion had be­come un­ten­able, part­ly ow­ing to an ill-​con­sid­ered tele­gram which he ad­dressed to the tsar on his re­turn; part­ly in con­se­quence of the at­ti­tude of Prince Bis­mar­ck, who, in con­junc­tion with the Rus­sian and Aus­tri­an gov­ern­ments, for­bade him to pun­ish the lead­ers of the mil­itary con­spir­acy. He there­fore is­sued a man­ifesto re­sign­ing the throne, and left Bul­gar­ia on the 8th of Septem­ber 1886. He now re­tired in­to pri­vate life. A few years lat­er he mar­ried Fraulein Loisinger, an ac­tress, and as­sumed the style of Count Harte­nau (Febru­ary 6, 1889). The last years of his life were spent prin­ci­pal­ly at Gratz, where he held a lo­cal com­mand in the Aus­tri­an army. Here, af­ter a short ill­ness, he died on the 23rd of Oc­to­ber 1893. His re­mains were brought to Sofia, where they re­ceived a pub­lic fu­ner­al, and were even­tu­al­ly de­posit­ed in a mau­soleum erect­ed in his mem­ory. Prince Alexan­der pos­sessed much charm and ami­abil­ity of man­ner; he was tall, dig­ni­fied and strik­ing­ly hand­some. His ca­pa­bil­ities as a sol­dier have been gen­er­al­ly rec­og­nized by com­pe­tent au­thor­ities. As a ruler he com­mit­ted some er­rors, but his youth and in­ex­pe­ri­ence and the ex­treme dif­fi­cul­ty of his po­si­tion must be tak­en in­to con­sid­er­ation. He was not with­out ap­ti­tude for diplo­ma­cy, and his in­tu­itive in­sight and per­cep­tion of char­ac­ter some­times en­abled him to out­wit the crafty politi­cians by whom he was sur­round­ed. His prin­ci­pal fault was a want of tenac­ity and res­olu­tion; his ten­den­cy to un­guard­ed lan­guage un­doubt­ed­ly in­creased the num­ber of his en­emies.

See Dran­dar, Le Prince Alexan­dre de Bat­ten­berg en Bul­gar­ie (Paris, 1884); Koch, Furst Alexan­der von Bul­gar­ien (Darm­stadt, 1887); Matveyev, Bul­gar­ien nach dem Berlin­er Congress (Pe­ters­burg, 1887); Bourchi­er, “Prince Alexan­der of Bat­ten­berg,” in Fort­night­ly Re­view, Jan­uary 1894. (J. D. B.)

ALEXAN­DER I., king of Epirus about 342 B.C., broth­er of Olympias the moth­er of Alexan­der the Great, and son-​in-​law of Philip of Mace­don, whose daugh­ter Cleopa­tra he mar­ried (336). In 332 he crossed over to Italy to as­sist the Tar­en­tines against the Lu­ca­ni­ans, Brut­tians and Sam­nites. He gained con­sid­er­able suc­cess­es and made an ar­range­ment with the Ro­mans for a joint at­tack up­on the Sam­nites; but the Tar­en­tines, sus­pect­ing him of the de­sign of found­ing an in­de­pen­dent king­dom, turned against him. Al­though the ad­van­tage at first rest­ed with Alexan­der, he grad­ual­ly lost it, and his sup­port­ers dwin­dled away. In 330 (or ear­li­er) he was de­feat­ed at Pan­dosia and slain by a Lu­ca­ni­an em­igrant.

See Justin vi­ii. 6, ix. 6, xii. 2; Livy vi­ii. 3, 17, 24; Aulus Gel­lius xvii. 21; and ar­ti­cle MACE­DO­NIAN EM­PIRE.

ALEXAN­DER II., king of Epirus, suc­ceed­ed his fa­ther Pyrrhus, 272 B.C. He at­tacked Antigonus Go­natas and con­quered the greater part of Mace­do­nia, but was in turn driv­en out of both Epirus and Mace­do­nia by Demetrius the son of Antigonus. He sub­se­quent­ly re­cov­ered his king­dom by the aid of the Acar­na­ni­ans and Ae­to­lians. He died about 260 (Poly­bius ii. 45, ix. 34; Plutarch, Pyrrhus, 9; Justin xvi­ii. 1, xxvi. 2, xxvi­ii. 1).

See Thirl­wall, His­to­ry of Greece, vol. vi­ii.; Droy­sen, Hel­lenis­mus; B. Niese, Gesch. d. griech. u. maked. Staat­en; J. Be­loch, Griech. Gesch. vol. iii.

ALEXAN­DER III., known as THE GREAT1 (356-323 B.C.), king of Mace­don, was the son of Philip II. of Mace­don, and Olympias, an Epirote princess. His fa­ther was pre-​em­inent for prac­ti­cal ge­nius, his moth­er a wom­an of half-​wild blood, weird, vi­sion­ary and ter­ri­ble; and Alexan­der him­self is sin­gu­lar among men of ac­tion for the imag­ina­tive splen­dours which guid­ed him, and among ro­man­tic dream­ers for the things he achieved.


We was born in 356 B.C., prob­ably about Oc­to­ber (Hog­arth, pp. 284 ff.). The court at which he grew up was the fo­cus of great ac­tiv­ities, for Philip, by war and diplo­ma­cy, was rais­ing Mace­don to the head­ship of the Greek states, and the air was charged with great ideas. To unite the Greek race in a war against the Per­sian em­pire was set up as the ul­ti­mate mark for am­bi­tion, the theme of ide­al­ists. The great lit­er­ary achieve­ments of the Greeks in the 5th cen­tu­ry lay al­ready far enough be­hind to have be­come in­vest­ed with a clas­si­cal dig­ni­ty; the mean­ing of Hel­lenic civ­iliza­tion had been made con­crete in a way which might sus­tain en­thu­si­asm for a body of ide­al val­ues, au­thor­ita­tive by tra­di­tion. And up­on Alexan­der in his four­teenth year this sum of tra­di­tion was brought to bear through the per­son of the man who be­yond all oth­ers had gath­ered it up in­to an or­gan­ic whole: in 343-342 Aris­to­tle (q.v.) came to Pel­la at Philip’s bid­ding to di­rect the ed­uca­tion of his son. We do not know what fac­ul­ty the mas­ter-​thinker may have had for cap­ti­vat­ing this ar­dent spir­it; at any rate Alexan­der car­ried with him through life a pas­sion for Homer, how­ev­er he may have been dis­posed to grey­er philo­soph­ic the­ory. But his ed­uca­tion was not all from books. The com­ing and go­ing of en­voys from many states, Greek and Ori­en­tal, taught him some­thing of the ac­tu­al con­di­tions of the world. He was ear­ly schooled in war. At the age of six­teen he com­mand­ed in Mace­do­nia dur­ing Philip’s ab­sence and quelled a ris­ing of the hill-​tribes on the north­ern bor­der; in the fol­low­ing year (338) he head­ed the charge which broke the Sa­cred Band at Chaeronea. Then came fam­ily dis­sen­sions such as usu­al­ly vex the polyg­amous courts of the East. In 337 Philip re­pu­di­at­ed Olympias for an­oth­er wife, Cleopa­tra, Alexan­der went with his moth­er to her home in Epirus, and, though he soon re­turned and an out­ward rec­on­cil­ia­tion be­tween fa­ther and son was con­trived, their hearts were es­tranged. The king’s new wife was with child; her kins­men were in the as­cen­dant; the suc­ces­sion of Alexan­der was im­per­illed. Some ne­go­ti­ations which Pixo­darus, the satrap of Caria, opened with the Mace­do­nian court with a view to ef­fect­ing a mar­riage al­liance be­tween his house and Philip’s, brought Alexan­der in­to fresh broils. In 336 Philip was sud­den­ly as­sas­si­nat­ed whilst cel­ebrat­ing at Ae­gae the mar­riage of his daugh­ter to Alexan­der I. of Epirus in the pres­ence of a great con­course from all the Greek world. It is cer­tain that the hand of the as­sas­sin was prompt­ed by some one in the back­ground; sus­pi­cion could not fail to fall up­on Alexan­der among oth­ers. But guilt of that sort would hard­ly be con­sis­tent with his char­ac­ter as it ap­pears in those ear­ly day’s.


Alexan­der was not the on­ly claimant to the va­cant throne, but, rec­og­nized by the army, he soon swept all ri­vals from his path. The new­ly born son of Philip by Cleopa­tra, and Alexan­der’s cousin Amyn­tas, were put to death, and Alexan­der took up the in­ter­rupt­ed work of his fa­ther. That work was on the point of open­ing its most bril­liant chap­ter by an in­va­sion of the great king’s do­min­ions; the army was con­cen­trat­ed and cer­tain forces had al­ready been sent on to oc­cu­py the op­po­site shore of the Helle­spont. The as­sas­si­na­tion of Philip de­layed the blow, for it im­me­di­ate­ly made the base, Mace­do­nia, in­se­cure, and in such an en­ter­prise, plung­ing in­to the vast ter­ri­to­ries of the Per­sian em­pire, a se­cure base was ev­ery­thing. Philip’s re­moval had made all the hill-​peo­ples of the north and west raise their heads and set the Greek states free from their fears. A demon­stra­tion in Greece, led by the new king of Mace­do­nia, mo­men­tar­ily checked the ag­ita­tion, and at the di­et at Corinth Alexan­der was rec­og­nized as cap­tain-​gen­er­al (ege­mon au­tokra­tor) of the Hel­lenes against the bar­bar­ians, in the place of his fa­ther Philip.

Lead­er of the Hel­lenes.

In the spring of 335 he went out from Mace­do­nia north­wards, struck across the Balka­ns, prob­ably by the Ship­ka Pass, frus­trat­ing the moun­tain war­fare of its tribes by a pre­ci­sion of dis­ci­pline which, prob­ably, no oth­er army of the time could have ap­proached, and tra­versed the land of the Trib­al­lians (Rumelia) to the Danube. To grat­ify his own imag­ina­tion or strike the imag­ina­tion of the world he took his army over the Danube and burnt a set­tle­ment of the Getae up­on the oth­er side. Mean­while the Il­lyr­ians had seized Pe­lion (Plias­sa), which com­mand­ed the pass­es on the west of Mace­do­nia, and from the Danube Alexan­der marched straight thith­er over the hills. He had hard­ly re­stored Mace­do­nian pres­tige in this quar­ter when he heard that Greece was aflame. Thebes had tak­en up arms. By a forced march he took the The­bans com­plete­ly by sur­prise, and in a few days the city, which a gen­er­ation be­fore had won the head­ship of Greece, was tak­en. There were to be no half-​mea­sures now; the city was wiped out of ex­is­tence with the ex­cep­tion of its tem­ples and the house which had been Pin­dar’s. Greece might now be trust­ed to lie qui­et for some time to come. The Pan­hel­lenic al­liance (from which Spar­ta still stood aloof) against the bar­bar­ians was re­newed. Athens, al­though known to be hos­tile at heart to the cities of Mace­do­nian pow­er, Alexan­der treat­ed all through with ea­ger cour­tesy.

In­va­sion of Asia Mi­nor.

In the spring of 334, Alexan­der crossed with an army of be­tween 30,000 and 40,000 men, Mace­do­nians, Il­lyr­ians, Thra­cians and the con­tin­gents of the Greek states, in­to Asia. The place of con­cen­tra­tion was Aris­be on the Helle­spont. Alexan­der him­self first vis­it­ed the site of Troy and there went through those dra­mat­ic acts of sac­ri­fice to the Il­ian Athena, as­sump­tion of the shield be­lieved to be that of Achilles; and of­fer­ings to the great Home­ric dead, which are sig­nif­icant of the po­et­ic glam­our shed, in the young king’s mind, over the whole en­ter­prise, and which men will es­ti­mate dif­fer­ent­ly ac­cord­ing to the part they as­sign to imag­ina­tion in hu­man af­fairs.

Bat­tle of Grani­cus.

To meet the in­vad­er the great king had in Asia Mi­nor an army slight­ly larg­er, it would seem, than Alexan­der’s, gath­ered un­der the satraps of the west­ern provinces at Zeleia. He had al­so, what was more se­ri­ous, com­mand of the Aegean. Alexan­der could com­mu­ni­cate with his base on­ly by the nar­row line of the Helle­spont, and ran the risk, if he went far from it, of be­ing cut off al­to­geth­er. To draw him af­ter them, while avoid­ing a con­flict, was sound strat­egy for the Per­sian gen­er­als. It was urged up­on them by their col­league the Rho­di­an Mem­non. But strate­gic con­sid­er­ations were can­celled by the Per­sian barons’ code of chival­ry, and Alexan­der found them wait­ing for him on the banks of the Grani­cus. It was a cav­al­ry melee, in which the com­mon code of hon­our caused Mace­do­nian and Per­sian chief­tains to en­gage hand to hand, and at the end of the day the relics of the Per­sian army were in flight, leav­ing the high-​roads of Asia Mi­nor clear for the in­vad­er. Alexan­der could now ac­com­plish the first part of the task be­long­ing to him as cap­tain-​gen­er­al to the Hel­lenes, that lib­er­ation of the Greek cities of Asia Mi­nor, for which Pan­hel­lenic en­thu­si­asts had cried out so long. He first went to take pos­ses­sion of the old Ly­di­an cap­ital Sardis, the head­quar­ters of the Per­sian gov­ern­ment on this side of the Tau­rus, and the strong city sur­ren­dered with­out a blow. And now in all the Greek cities of Ae­olis and Io­nia the oli­garchies or tyrants friend­ly to Per­sia fell, and democ­ra­cies were es­tab­lished un­der the eye of Alexan­der’s of­fi­cers. On­ly where the cities were held by gara­sons in the Per­sian ser­vice, gar­risons com­posed main­ly of Greek mer­ce­nar­ies, was the lib­er­ator like­ly to meet with any re­sis­tance. From Eph­esus in­deed the gar­ri­son fled up­on the news of Grani­cus, but Mile­tus re­quired a siege. The Per­sian fleet in vain en­deav­oured to re­lieve it, and Mile­tus did not long hold out against Alexan­der’s at­tack. It was at Hali­car­nas­sus that Alexan­der first en­coun­tered stub­born re­sis­tance, at Hali­car­nas­sus where Mem­non and the satraps of Caria had ral­lied what land-​forces yet be­longed to Per­sia in the west. When win­ter fell, Alexan­der had cap­tured in­deed the city it­self, but the two citadels still held out against his block­ade.

Mean­while Alexan­der was mak­ing it plain that he had come not mere­ly as cap­tain-​gen­er­al for a war of reprisals, but to take the Per­sian’s place as king of the land. The con­quered provinces were or­ga­nized un­der Mace­do­nian gov­er­nors and in Caria a de­throned princess of the na­tive dy­nasty, Ada, was re­stored to pow­er. In the win­ter, whilst Par­me­nio ad­vanced up­on the cen­tral plateau to make the oc­cu­pa­tion of Phry­gia ef­fec­tive, Alexan­der him­self passed along the coast to re­ceive the sub­mis­sion of the Ly­cians and the ad­her­ence of the Greek cities of the Pam­phylian sea-​board. The hills in­land were the do­main of fight­ing tribes which the Per­sian gov­ern­ment had nev­er been able to sub­due. To con­quer them, in­deed, Alexan­der had no time, but he stormed some of their fortress­es to hold them in check, and marched through their ter­ri­to­ry when he turned north from Pam­phylia in­to the in­te­ri­or. The point of con­cen­tra­tion for next year’s cam­paign had been fixed at Gordi­um, a meet­ing-​place of roads in North­ern Phry­gia. The sto­ry of Alexan­der’s cut­ting the fa­tal “Gor­dian knot” on the char­iot of the an­cient Phry­gian king Gordius is con­nect­ed with his stay in this place.

Ex­ten­sion of Alexan­der’s pow­er.

Whilst Alexan­der had been ground­ing his pow­er in Asia Mi­nor, he had run a nar­row risk of los­ing his base in Eu­rope. He had af­ter the siege of Mile­tus dis­band­ed the Grae­co- Mace­do­nian fleet, sur­ren­der­ing for the time all at­tempts to chal­lenge the com­mand of the Aegean. Mem­non the Rho­di­an, now in supreme com­mand of the Per­sian fleet, saw the Eu­ro­pean coasts ex­posed and set out to raise Greece, where dis­con­tent al­ways smoul­dered in Alexan­der’s rear. But Mem­non died at the crit­ical mo­ment whilst lay­ing siege to Myti­lene and the great plan col­lapsed. A Per­sian fleet still held the sea, but it ef­fect­ed lit­tle, and present­ly fresh Grae­co-​Mace­do­nian squadrons be­gan to hold it in check. It was, how­ev­er, the need to en­sure com­mand of the sea and free all lines of com­mu­ni­ca­tion be­hind him that de­ter­mined Alexan­der’s plan for the next cam­paign. If he mas­tered the whole coast-​line of the Lev­ant, the en­emy’s fleet would find it­self left in the air. The Syr­ian coast was ac­cord­ing­ly his im­me­di­ate ob­jec­tive when he broke up from Gordi­um for the cam­paign of 333. He was through the Ci­cil­ian Gates be­fore the Per­sian king, Dar­ius III., had sent up a force ad­equate to hold them. His pas­sage through Cili­cia was marked by a vi­olent fever that ar­rest­ed him for a while in Tar­sus, and mean­time a great Per­sian army was wait­ing for him in north­ern Syr­ia un­der the com­mand of Dar­ius him­self. In the knot of moun­tains which close in about the head of the Gulf of Alexan­dret­ta, Alexan­der, fol­low­ing hard by the coast, marched past the Per­sian army en­camped on the plains to the east. To cut Alexan­der’s com­mu­ni­ca­tions with the rear, Dar­ius now com­mit­ted the er­ror of en­tan­gling his large force in the moun­tain de­files.

Bat­tle of Is­sus.

Alexan­der turned, and near the town of Is­sus fought his sec­ond pitched bat­tle, send­ing Dar­ius and the rel­ic of his army in wild flight back to the east.2 It was an in­ci­dent which did not mod­ify Alexan­der’s plan. He did not press the pur­suit far, al­though the great king’s camp with his harem fell in­to his hands. The chival­rous cour­tesy which he showed to the cap­tive princess­es was a favourite theme for lat­er rhetori­cians. He went on his way to oc­cu­py Syr­ia and Phoeni­cia. It is now that we get def­inite ev­idence as to the reach of Alexan­der’s de­signs; for Dar­ius opened ne­go­ti­ations in which he ul­ti­mate­ly went so far as to of­fer a par­ti­tion of the em­pire, all west of the Eu­phrates, to be Alexan­der’s. Alexan­der re­fused the bar­gain and def­inite­ly claimed the whole.3 The con­quest of the Phoeni­cian coast was not to be al­to­geth­er easy, for Tyre shut its gates and for sev­en months Alexan­der had to sit be­fore it–one of those ob­sti­nate sieges which mark the his­to­ry of the Semitic races. When it fell, Alexan­der had the old Tyr­ian peo­ple scat­tered to the winds, 30,000 sold as slaves. Gaza of­fered a re­sis­tance equal­ly hero­ic, last­ing two months, and here too the old pop­ula­tion was dis­persed. The oc­cu­pa­tion of the rest of Syr­ia and Pales­tine pro­ceed­ed smooth­ly, and af­ter the fall of Gaza Alexan­der’s way lay open in­to Egypt.4 Egypt was the last of the Mediter­ranean provinces to be won, and here no de­fence was made. To the na­tive Egyp­tians Alexan­der ap­peared as a de­liv­er­er from the Per­sian tyran­ny, and he sac­ri­ficed pi­ous­ly to the gods of Mem­phis. The win­ter (332-331) which Alexan­der spent in Egypt saw two mem­orable ac­tions on his part. One was the ex­pe­di­tion (prob­lem­at­ic in its mo­tive and de­tails) to the or­acle of Zeus Am­mon (Oa­sis of Si­wa), where Alexan­der was hailed by the priest as son of the god, a be­lief which the cir­cle of Alexan­der, and per­haps Alexan­der him­self, seem here­after to have liked to play with in that sort of se­mi-​se­ri­ous vein which still al­lowed him in the mo­ments of ev­ery-​day com­mon­place to be the son of Philip. The oth­er ac­tion was the foun­da­tion of Alexan­dria at the Canopic mouth of the Nile, the place des­tined to be a new com­mer­cial cen­tre for the east­ern Mediter­ranean world which Alexan­der had now tak­en in pos­ses­sion, to rise to an im­por­tance which the founder, al­though ob­vi­ous­ly act­ing with in­ten­tion, can hard­ly have fore­seen (E. Keller, Alex. d. Grosse nach der Schlacht bei Is­sus, 1904).

In­va­sion of Per­sia.

In the spring of 331 Alexan­der could at last leave the Mediter­ranean to strike in­to the heart of the Per­sian em­pire, for by his oc­cu­pa­tion of the Coasts the Per­sian com­mand of the sea had in­evitably col­lapsed. Re­turn­ing through Syr­ia, and stop­ping at Tyre to make fi­nal ar­range­ments for the con­quered provinces, he tra­versed Mesopotamia and struck the Tigris some four march­es above the site of Nin­eveh. It was near Nin­eveh that Dar­ius was wait­ing with the im­mense host which a supreme ef­fort could muster from all parts of the em­pire. The hap­py co­in­ci­dence of a lu­nar eclipse gives us the 20th of Septem­ber 331 as the ex­act day up­on which the Mace­do­nian army crossed the Tigris. Alexan­der came with­in sight of the Per­sian host with­out hav­ing met with any op­po­si­tion since he quit­ted Tyre. He had now to set­tle the most se­ri­ous prob­lem which had yet faced him, for in the plains the Per­sian army was formidable by sheer bulk. But the day showed the Mace­do­nian army equal to the task.

Bat­tle of Ar­bela.

The last army gath­ered by an Achaeme­ni­an king was shat­tered in the bat­tle called pop­ular­ly af­ter the city of Ar­bela some 60 m. dis­tant, or more pre­cise­ly af­ter the vil­lage of Gaugamela hard by. Dar­ius fled east­wards in­to Me­dia and again Alexan­der wait­ed till he had se­cured the provinces to the south. He fol­lowed the Tigris in­to Baby­lo­nia, the cen­tral seat of the em­pire and its rich­est re­gion, and from Baby­lon went on to seize the fab­ulous rich­es which the Per­sian kings had amassed in their spring res­idence, Susa. Thence he at last as­cend­ed up­on the Ira­ni­an plateau. The moun­tain tribes on the road (the Oxii, Pers, Huzha), ac­cus­tomed to ex­act black­mail even from the king’s train, learnt by a bit­ter les­son that a stronger hand had come to wield the em­pire. Alexan­der en­tered Per­sis, the cra­dle of the Achaeme­ni­an house, and came up­on fresh mass­es of trea­sure in the roy­al city, Perse­po­lis. He de­stroyed the roy­al palace by fire, an act which has been var­ious­ly es­ti­mat­ed by his­to­ri­ans. Os­ten­si­bly a solemn re­venge for the burn­ing of Greek tem­ples by Xerx­es, it has been jus­ti­fied as a sym­bol­ical act cal­cu­lat­ed to im­press use­ful­ly the imag­ina­tion of the East, and con­demned as a sense­less and vain­glo­ri­ous work of de­struc­tion.

With the spring of 330 Alexan­der was pre­pared for fur­ther pur­suit. Dar­ius fled north­wards from Ec­batana up­on his ap­proach. At Ec­batana new mass­es of trea­sure were seized, but when once the nec­es­sary mea­sures which its dis­pos­al and the oc­cu­pa­tion of the Me­di­an cap­ital en­tailed were tak­en, Alexan­der con­tin­ued the pur­suit. It was an ex­cit­ing chase of king by king, in which each cov­ered the ground by in­cred­ible ex­er­tions, shed­ding their slow­er-​go­ing fol­low­ers as they went, past Rha­gae (Rai) and the Caspi­an gates, till ear­ly one morn­ing Alexan­der came in sight of the bro­ken train which still clung to the fall­en king. He had be­come a pup­pet in the hands of his cousin Bessus and the Per­sian mag­nates with him (see DAR­IUS III.), and at this ex­trem­ity they stabbed him and al­lowed Alexan­der to be­come mas­ter on­ly of his corpse (sum­mer 330).

The pur­suit had brought Alexan­der in­to that re­gion of moun­tains to the south of the Caspi­an which con­nects west­ern Iran with the provinces to the east of the great cen­tral desert. To con­quer this re­main­ing por­tion of the em­pire, Alexan­der now went on through the moun­tain belt, teach­ing the pow­er of his arms to the hills­men, Tapyri and Mar­di, till he came, pass­ing through Zadracar­ta (Aster­abad), to Parthia and thence to Aria. In these fur­ther provinces of Iran the Mace­do­nian in­vad­er had for the first time to en­counter a se­ri­ous na­tion­al op­po­si­tion, for in the west the Ira­ni­an rule had been mere­ly the suprema­cy of an alien pow­er over na­tive pop­ula­tions in­dif­fer­ent or hos­tile. Here the rul­ing race was at home. In Asia Alexan­der learnt that Bessus, had tak­en the di­adem as Dar­ius’ suc­ces­sor in Bac­tria, but so soon as he marched against him Aria rose in his rear, and Alexan­der had to re­turn in all haste to bring the re­volt un­der. Nor did he, when this was ac­com­plished, again strike di­rect­ly at Bac­tria, but made a wide turn­ing move­ment through Seis­tan over Kan­da­har in­to the Kab­ul val­ley. It was on the way, in Seis­tan at Proph­tha­sia (mod. Far­rah?), that the alien­ation be­tween Alexan­der and his Mace­do­nian fol­low­ers, which be­comes sen­si­ble in the lat­ter part of his ca­reer, first showed it­self in an ug­ly form. Alexan­der had come to merge the char­ac­ters of Mace­do­nian king and Hel­lenic Cap­tain-​gen­er­al, with which he had set out, in that of Ori­en­tal despot (Spiek­er. Hof u. Ho­ford­nung Al. d. Gr., 1904). He wore on oc­ca­sions of state the Per­sian dress. (Ac­cord­ing to pseu­do-​Plutarch, de fort. Al. i. 8, it was the sim­pler Per­sian dress, not the Me­di­an.) A dis­con­tent be­gan to work among the Mace­do­nians, and at Proph­tha­sia the com­man­der of the Mace­do­nian cav­al­ry Philotas, the son of Par­me­nio, and cer­tain oth­ers were ar­raigned be­fore the army on the charge of con­spir­ing against the king’s life. They were con­demned and put to death. Not sat­is­fied with procur­ing this, Alexan­der had Par­me­nio him­self, who had been left in com­mand in Me­dia, put to death by se­cret or­ders. It is per­haps the worst crime, be­cause the most cold-​blood­ed and un­gen­er­ous, which can be laid to his charge. By the win­ter of 329-328 Alexan­der had reached the Kab­ul val­ley at the foot of the Paropamisadae (Hin­du Kush).

The or­di­nar­ily re­ceived chronol­ogy makes Alexan­der reach the Kab­ul val­ley in the win­ter of 330-329. That to fit the ac­tions and dis­tances cov­ered by Alexan­der in­to such a scheme, as­sum­ing that he went by Seis­tan and Kan­da­har, would in­volve phys­ical im­pos­si­bil­ities has been point­ed out by Count Yor­ck v. Warten­burg and Mr D. G. Hog­arth. Kaerst and Be­loch con­tin­ue to give the or­di­nary chronol­ogy un­trou­bled.

In­va­sion of North­ern In­dia.

In the spring of 328 Alexan­der crossed the Hin­du Kush in­to Bac­tria and fol­lowed the re­treat of Bessus across the Oxus and in­to Sog­di­ana (Bokhara). Here Bessus was at last caught and treat­ed with the bar­bar­ic cru­el­ty which the rule of the old Per­sian monar­chy pre­scribed for rebels. Till the spring of 327 Alexan­der was mov­ing to and fro in Bac­tria and Sog­di­ana, beat­ing down the re­cur­rent re­bel­lions and plant­ing Greek cities. Just as in 335 he had crossed the Danube, so he now made one raid across the fron­tier riv­er, the Jaxartes (Sir Daria), to teach the fear of his name to the out­ly­ing peo­ples of the steppe (sum­mer 328). And mean­while the rift be­tween Alexan­der and his Eu­ro­pean fol­low­ers con­tin­ued to show it­self in dark in­ci­dents–the mur­der of Cli­tus at Mara­can­da (Samarkand), when Alexan­der struck down an old friend, both be­ing hot with wine; the claim that Alexan­der should be ap­proached with pros­tra­tion (prosky­ne­sis), urged in the spring of 327, and op­posed bold­ly by the philoso­pher Cal­lis­thenes, Aris­to­tle’s nephew, who had come in the king’s train; the con­spir­acy of the pages at Bac­tria, which was made an oc­ca­sion for putting Cal­lis­thenes to death. It was now that Alexan­der com­plet­ed the con­quest of the provinces north of the Hin­du Kush by the re­duc­tion of the last moun­tain strongholds of the na­tive princes. In one of them he cap­tured Rox­ana, the daugh­ter of Ox­yartes, whom he made his wife. Be­fore the sum­mer of 327 he had once more crossed the Hin­du Kush on his way to In­dia (for the cam­paigns in the N.E. see F. von Schwarz, Alex. d. Grossen Feldzuge in Turkestan, 1893, v.).

Whilst the heav­ier troops moved down the Kab­ul val­ley to Pence­lao­tis (Charsad­da) un­der Perdic­cas and Hep­haes­tion, Alexan­der with a body of lighter-​armed troops and cav­al­ry pushed up the val­leys which join the Kab­ul from the north–through the re­gions now known as Ba­jour, Swat and Buner, in­hab­it­ed by In­di­an hill peo­ples, as fierce then against the west­ern in­trud­er as their Pathan suc­ces­sors are against the British columns. The books give a num­ber of their “cities” re­duced by Alexan­der–walled moun­tain vil­lages which can in some cas­es be iden­ti­fied more or less cer­tain­ly with places where the clans are es­tab­lished to-​day. The crown­ing ex­ploit was the re­duc­tion of Aor­nus,5 a stronghold perched on a pre­cip­itous sum­mit above the In­dus, which it was said that Her­acles had failed to take. How much of the sto­ry of Alexan­der’s dis­cov­ery of the sa­cred moun­tain of the Nysa and the traces of Diony­sus is due to the in­ven­tion of Aris­to­bu­lus and Clitarchus (Ar­ri­an did not find it in Ptole­my) we can­not say. Mean­time Perdic­cas and Hep­haes­tion had built a bridge over the In­dus, and by this in the spring of 326 Alexan­der passed in­to the Pun­jab (at Ohind, 16 m. above At­tock, ac­cord­ing to Fouch­er, Notes sur la ge­ogr. anc. du Gand­hara, 1902). The coun­try in­to which he came was dom­inat­ed by three prin­ci­pal­ities, that of Amb­hi (Gr. Om­phis, Curt. vi­ii. 12. 6) be­tween the In­dus and the Hy­daspes (Jhelum, Jehlam), cen­tred in the great city of Takkasi­la (Gr. Tax­ila), that of the Pau­rara ra­jah (Gr. Porus) be­tween the Hy­daspes and Acesines (Chenab), and that of Ab­his­ara (Gr. Abis­ares) be­tween the same two rivers high­er up, on the con­fines of Kash­mir (Stein, Ra­jatarangi­ni, transl. bk. i. 180, v. 217). The kings of Tax­ila and Porus were at en­mi­ty, and for this cause the in­vad­er could reck­on up­on Om­phis as a firm al­ly. Porus was pre­pared to con­test the pas­sage of the Hy­daspes with all his strength. Abis­ares pre­ferred to play a dou­ble game and wait up­on events. Alexan­der reached the Hy­daspes just as the rains broke, when the riv­er was al­ready swollen. Porus held the op­po­site bank with a pow­er­ful army, in­clud­ing 200 ele­phants. Alexan­der suc­ceed­ed in tak­ing a part of his forces across the riv­er high­er up dur­ing a night of tor­ren­tial rain, and then he fought the fourth and last of his pitched bat­tles in Asia, the one which put to proof more shrewd­ly than any of the oth­ers the qual­ity of the Mace­do­nian army as an in­stru­ment of war, and yet again emerged vic­to­ri­ous. Porus fell sore­ly wound­ed in­to his hands.6 Porus had saved his hon­our, and now Alexan­der tried, and not in vain, to gain him as a friend. When he con­tin­ued his progress east­wards across the Acesines, Porus was an ac­tive al­ly. Alexan­der moved along close un­der the hills. Af­ter cross­ing the Hy­draotes (Ravi) he once more came in­to con­tact with hos­tile tribes, and the work of storm­ing pet­ty towns be­gan again. Then the Hy­pha­sis (Beas) was reached, and here the Mace­do­nian army re­fused to go any far­ther. It was a bit­ter mor­ti­fi­ca­tion to Alexan­der, be­fore whose imag­ina­tion new vis­tas had just opened out east­wards, where there beck­oned the un­known world of the Ganges and its splen­did kings. For three days the will of king and peo­ple were locked in an­tag­onism; then Alexan­der gave way; the long east­ward move­ment was end­ed; the re­turn be­gan.

The re­turn.

Alexan­der left the con­quered por­tion of In­dia east of the In­dus to be gov­erned un­der Porus, Om­phis of Tax­ila, and Abis­ares, the coun­try west of the In­dus un­der Mace­do­nian gov­er­nors, and set out to ex­plore the great riv­er to its mouth (for the or­ga­ni­za­tion of the In­di­an provinces, see es­pe­cial­ly Niese, vol. i. pp. 500 f.). The fleet pre­pared on the Hy­daspes sailed in Oc­to­ber, while a land army moved along the bank. The con­flu­ence of the Hy­daspes and Acesines passed, the Mace­do­nians were once more in a re­gion of hos­tile tribes with towns to be stormed. It was at one of these, a town of the Malli, that a mem­orable in­ci­dent oc­curred, such as char­ac­ter­ized the per­son­al­ity of Alexan­der for all suc­ceed­ing time. He leapt from the wall with on­ly three com­pan­ions in­to the hos­tile town, and, be­fore the army be­hind him could ef­fect an en­trance, lay wound­ed al­most to death.7 He re­cov­ered and beat down the re­sis­tance of the tribes, leav­ing them an­nexed to the Mace­do­nian satrapy west of the In­dus. Be­low the con­flu­ence of the Pun­jab rivers in­to the sin­gle stream of the In­dus the ter­ri­to­ry of loose tribes was suc­ceed­ed by an­oth­er group of reg­ular prin­ci­pal­ities, un­der the ra­jahs called by the Greeks Mu­si­canus, Oxy­canus and Sam­bus. These op­posed a na­tion­al re­sis­tance to the Mace­do­nians, the fires of which were fanned by the Brah­mins, but still the strong arm of the west­ern peo­ple pre­vailed. The ra­jah of Pata­la at the apex of the In­dus delta aban­doned his coun­try and fled. It was the high sum­mer of 325 when Alexan­der reached Pata­la. From here he ex­plored both arms of the delta to the ocean, now seen by the Mace­do­nians for the first time. He had de­ter­mined that the In­dus fleet should be used to ex­plore this new world and try to find a wa­ter­way be­tween the In­dus and the Per­sian Gulf. A great part of the land-​forces had been al­ready sent off un­der Craterus in the ear­li­er sum­mer to re­turn west by Kan­da­har and Seis­tan; the fleet was to sail un­der the Greek Nearchus from the In­dus mouth with the win­ter mon­soon; Alexan­der him­self with the rest of the land-​forces set out in Oc­to­ber to go by the coast of Baluchis­tan, through the ap­palling sand-​wastes of the Mekran.8

He would seem to have kept down to the coast un­til the head­land of Ras Malan was reached, scat­ter­ing be­fore him the bands of Ara­bitae and Ori­tae who were the in­hab­itants of this well-​pro­vi­sioned tract. For the 150 miles be­tween Ras Malan and Pas­ni Alexan­der was com­pelled by the nat­ural bar­ri­ers to march in­land, and it was here that his troops sank un­der the hor­rors of heat and thirst and sand. The coast once re­gained, the way was easy; no such desert had to be tra­versed, when Alexan­der again struck in­land for the chief city of the Gedrosians (Pu­ra), and thence made his way in­to Car­ma­nia. Here the spent troops rest­ed; here the army of Craterus joined them, and Nearchus came to an­nounce his safe ar­rival at the en­trance of the Per­sian Gulf.9

The ma­chine of em­pire had not func­tioned al­to­geth­er smooth­ly while the king had been ab­sent, and on Alexan­der’s re-​ap­pear­ance many in­ca­pables and rogues in high of­fice had to be re­placed by bet­ter men. In Car­ma­nia, in Per­sis, com­plaints from the provinces con­tin­ued to reach him, as well as the news of dis­or­ders in Mace­do­nia and Greece. New or­ders and ap­point­ments served to bring the em­pire in­to hand again, and at Susa in the spring of 324 Alexan­der rest­ed, the task of con­quer­ing and com­pass­ing the Achaeme­ni­an realm achieved. The task of its in­ter­nal re­or­ga­ni­za­tion now be­gan to oc­cu­py him–changes, for in­stance, in the mil­itary sys­tem which tend­ed to as­sim­ilate Mace­do­nians and Ori­en­tals. The same pol­icy of fu­sion was fur­thered by the great mar­riage fes­ti­val at Susa, when Alexan­der took two more wives from the Per­sian roy­al house, mar­ried a num­ber of his gen­er­als to Ori­en­tal princess­es, and even in­duced as many as he could of the rank-​and-​file to take Asi­at­ic wives. This pol­icy did not al­lay the dis­con­tent of the Mace­do­nian army, and when Alexan­der in the sum­mer of 324 moved to the cool­er re­gion of Me­dia, an ac­tu­al mutiny of the Mace­do­nians broke out on the way at Opis on the Tigris. It was oc­ca­sioned by the dis­charge of the Mace­do­nian vet­er­ans, and on­ly the per­son­al mag­netism of Alexan­der and his threat to en­trust him­self al­to­geth­er to the Ori­en­tals availed to quell it. At Ec­batana the death of Hep­haes­tion for a time plunged Alexan­der in­to a pas­sion of mourn­ing. But by the win­ter (324-323) he was again ac­tive, bring­ing the hill- tribes on the S.W. bor­der of Me­dia, the Cos­saei, in­to sub­jec­tion. In the spring of 323 he moved down to Baby­lon, re­ceiv­ing on the way em­bassies from lands as far as the con­fines of the known world, for the eyes of all na­tions were now turned with fear or won­der to the fig­ure which had ap­peared with so su­per­hu­man an ef­fect up­on the world’s stage. The em­bassy from Rome, how­ev­er, is al­most cer­tain­ly a lat­er, and an in­evitable, in­ven­tion. The ex­plo­ration of the wa­ter­ways round about the em­pire was Alexan­der’s im­me­di­ate con­cern, the dis­cov­ery of the pre­sumed con­nex­ion of the Caspi­an with the North­ern Ocean, the open­ing of a mar­itime route from Baby­lon to Egypt round Ara­bia. The lat­ter en­ter­prise Alexan­der de­signed to con­duct in per­son; un­der his su­per­vi­sion was pre­pared in Baby­lon an im­mense fleet, a great basin dug out to con­tain 1000 ships, and the wa­ter- com­mu­ni­ca­tions of Baby­lo­nia tak­en in hand. In­no­va­tions were car­ried out in the tac­ti­cal sys­tem of the army which were to mod­ify con­sid­er­ably the meth­ods of fu­ture bat­tle-​fields. At last all was ready; the 20th of the month Dae­sius (? June 5) was fixed for the king’s set­ting forth.

Ill­ness and death.

On the 15th and 16th Alexan­der caroused deep in­to the night at the house of the favourite Medius. On the 17th he de­vel­oped fever; for a time he treat­ed it as a mo­men­tary im­ped­iment to the ex­pe­di­tion; but on the 27th his speech was gone, and the Mace­do­nian army were suf­fered to pass man by man through his cham­ber to bid him farewell. On the 28th (? June 13) Alexan­der died.10

His son by Rox­ana, the so-​called ALEXAN­DER “AE­GUS,” was born a few months lat­er. He and his un­cle Philip, as joint kings, were placed un­der the guardian­ship of Perdic­cas, Pei­thon and An­tipa­ter in suc­ces­sion. Af­ter the death of An­tipa­ter (319) Rox­ana fled with him to Epirus, and was af­ter­wards tak­en back to Mace­do­nia, to­geth­er with Olympias, by Polyper­chon. All three fell in­to the hands of Cas­sander; Alexan­der and his moth­er were in 310-309 put to death by or­der of Cas­sander (Justin xiv. 6, xv. 2). The mean­ing­less sur­name of Ae­gus, still giv­en in some books to this Alexan­der, is de­rived sim­ply from a mod­ern mis­read­ing of the text of the As­tro­nom­ical Canon, AIGOU for AL­LOU.

Char­ac­ter and pol­icy.

Alexan­der the Great is one of the in­stances of the van­ity of ap­peal­ing from con­tem­po­rary dis­putes to “the ver­dict of pos­ter­ity”; his char­ac­ter and his pol­icy are es­ti­mat­ed to-​day as var­ious­ly as ev­er. Cer­tain fea­tures–the high phys­ical courage, the im­pul­sive en­er­gy, the fer­vid imag­ina­tion–stand out clear; be­yond that dis­agree­ment be­gins. That he was a great mas­ter of war is ad­mit­ted by most of those who judge his char­ac­ter un­favourably, but even this has been se­ri­ous­ly ques­tioned (e.g. by Be­loch, Griech. Gesch. iii. (i.), p. 66). There is a dis­pute as to his re­al de­signs. That he aimed at con­quer­ing the whole world and de­mand­ed to be wor­shipped as a god is the tra­di­tion­al view. Droy­sen de­nies the for­mer, and Niese main­tains that his am­bi­tion was lim­it­ed by the bounds of the Per­sian em­pire and that the claim to di­vine hon­ours is fab­ulous (His­torische Zeitschr. lxxix., 1897, 1 f.). It is true that our best au­thor­ity, Ar­ri­an, fails to sub­stan­ti­ate the tra­di­tion­al view sat­is­fac­to­ri­ly; on the oth­er hand those who main­tain it urge that Ar­ri­an’s in­ter­ests were main­ly mil­itary, and that the oth­er au­thor­ities, if in­fe­ri­or in trust­wor­thi­ness, are com­pleter in range of vi­sion. Of those, again, who main­tain the tra­di­tion­al view, some, like Niebuhr and Grote, re­gard it as con­vict­ing Alexan­der of mad am­bi­tion and vain­glo­ry, whilst to Kaerst Alexan­der on­ly in­cor­po­rates ideas which were the time­ly fruit of a long his­tor­ical de­vel­op­ment. The pol­icy of fus­ing Greeks and Ori­en­tals again is di­verse­ly judged. To Droy­sen and Kaerst it ac­cords with the his­tor­ical con­di­tions; to Grote and to Be­loch it is a be­tray­al of the pre­rog­ative of Hel­lenism.

Some no­tion of the per­son­al ap­pear­ance of Alexan­der may be got from the lit­er­ature and the sur­viv­ing mon­uments. He is de­scribed as of an ath­let­ic frame, though not taller than the com­mon, and a white and rud­dy com­plex­ion. The ex­pres­sion of his eyes had some­thing “liq­uid and melt­ing” (ton om­ma­ton ten di­achusin kai ugrote­ta), and the hair which stood up over his fore­head gave the sug­ges­tion of a li­on. He had a way of car­ry­ing his head some­what aslant. (See es­pe­cial­ly Plut. Alex. 4; de Alex. fort. ii. 2.) The great­est mas­ters of the time ex­ecut­ed por­traits of him, Lysip­pus in sculp­ture, Apelles in paint­ing and Pyr­gote­les in graven gems. Among sur­viv­ing mon­uments, we have no com­plete­ly cer­ti­fied por­traits ex­cept the Tivoli herm (now in the Lou­vre) and the coins struck by his suc­ces­sors. The herm is a dry work and the head up­on the coins shows var­ious de­grees of ide­al­iza­tion. There are, how­ev­er, a con­sid­er­able num­ber of works which can make out a bet­ter or worse claim ei­ther to be por­traits of Alexan­der or to re­pro­duce his type, and a large field of dis­cus­sion is there­fore open as to their val­ues and clas­si­fi­ca­tion (F. Kopp, Uber das Bild­nis Alexan­ders d. Grossen (1892); K. J. Uj­falvy, Le Type physique d’Alexan­dre le Grand (1902); T. Schreiber, Stu­di­en uber das Bild­nis Alexan­ders d. Grossen (1903); J. J. Bernoul­li, Die er­hal­te­nen Darstel­lun­gen Alexan­ders d. Grossen (1905). Alexan­der shaved clean, and set the fash­ion in this re­spect for the Grae­co-​Ro­man world for the next 500 years.

BIB­LI­OG­RA­PHY.–The cam­paigns and life of Alexan­der did not lack con­tem­po­rary his­to­ri­ans, some of them eye-​wit­ness­es and even as­so­ciates. They in­clud­ed the philoso­pher Cal­lis­thenes, put to death by Alexan­der in 327, whose his­to­ry went up to the death of Dar­ius, Alexan­der’s gen­er­al Ptole­my, af­ter­wards king in Egypt, Nearchus who com­mand­ed the fleet that sailed from the In­dus to the Per­sian Gulf, Onesi­cri­tus who served as pi­lot in the same fleet, Aris­to­bu­lus who was with Alexan­der in In­dia, Clitarchus, a con­tem­po­rary, if not an eye-​wit­ness, im­por­tant from the fact that his high­ly coloured ver­sion of the life of Alexan­der be­came the pop­ular au­thor­ity for the suc­ceed­ing cen­turies. Be­sides the his­tor­ical nar­ra­tive, there were works main­ly ge­ograph­ical or to­po­graph­ical left by per­sons like Bae­ton and Dio­gne­tus, whom Alexan­der had em­ployed (as be­ma­tis­tai) to sur­vey the roads over which he passed. All such orig­inal sources have now per­ished. The frag­ments are col­lect­ed in the Di­dot edi­tion of Ar­ri­an by Karl Muller. Not reck­on­ing scat­tered no­tices, we de­pend prin­ci­pal­ly opon five lat­er com­po­si­tions, Diodor­us, book xvii. (c. 20 B.C.), the work of Quin­tus Cur­tius (c. A.D. 42), Plutarch’s (c. 45-125 A.D.) Life of Alexan­der, Ar­ri­an’s An­aba­sis and In­di­ca (c. A.D. 150), and the rel­evant books of Justin’s abridg­ment (2nd cent. A.D.) of the his­to­ry of Tro­gus (c. 10 B.C.?). To these we may add the Latin Itinerar­ium Alexan­dri, a skele­ton out­line of Alexan­der’s cam­paigns ded­icat­ed to the em­per­or Con­stan­tius (A.D. 324-361), print­ed at the end of the Di­dot edi­tion of Ar­ri­an, and the Epit­ome Re­rum Ges­tarum Alexan­dri mag­ni, an abridg­ment made in the 4th or 5th cen­tu­ry of a lost Latin work of un­cer­tain date, com­bin­ing his­to­ry with el­ements tak­en from the Ro­mance (edit­ed by O. Wag­ner, Leipzig, 1900). The re­la­tion of these works to the var­ious orig­inal sources con­sti­tutes the crit­ical prob­lem be­fore the mod­ern his­to­ri­an in ref­er­ence to the his­to­ry of Alexan­der. See Droy­sen vol. i. ap­pendix i.; A. Schoene, De re­rum Alexan­dri Mag­ni scrip­to­rum im­prim­is Ar­ri­ani & Plutarchi fon­tibus (1870); Fraenkel, Die Geschichtschreiber Alex. d. Grossen (1883); O. Maas, Kleitarch und Diodor (Pe­ters­burg, 1894); Kaerst, Fer­echun­gen zur Gesch. Alex. d. Grossen (1887), and Gesch. d. hel­lenist. Zeital­ters (vol. i., 1901 ), pp. 421 f.; F. L. Schoen­le, Diodor­stu­di­en ( 1891 ); E. Schwartz, ar­ti­cles “Aris­to­bu­los (14),” “Ar­ri­anus,” “Quin­tus Cur­tius,” “Diodor­us” in Pauly-​Wis­sowa’s Realen­cy­clopadie.

For mod­ern views of Alexan­der see Thirl­wall, His­to­ry of Greece; Niebuhr, Lec­tures on An­cient His­to­ry (Eng. trans. rev. by au­thor, 1852) Grote, His­to­ry of Greece; Droy­sen, His­toire de l’Hel­lenisme (trans­la­tion by Bouche-​Leclerq); Ad. Holm, His­to­ry of Greece (Eng. trans., 1898); B. Niese, Gesch. der griech. u. maked. Staat­en (vol. i.); Kaerst, Gesch. des hel­lenist. Zeital­ters (1901); J. Be­loch, Griechis­che Gesch. (vol. iii., 1904); J. B. Bury, His­to­ry of Greece (1902); A. von Gutschmid, Geschichte Irans (1888). Among the mass of mono­graphs and spe­cial ar­ti­cles, ref­er­ence may be made to Free­man, His­tor­ical Es­says, 2nd se­ries, pp. 182 f.; Dodge, Alexan­der (in a se­ries called Great Cap­tains) 1890; Ma­haffy, Prob­lems in Greek His­to­ry (1892, ch. vi­ii.; D. G. Hog­arth, Philip and Alexan­der of Mace­don (1897), a strik­ing ef­fort of his­tor­ical imag­ina­tion to re­con­struct Alexan­der as a man of the re­al world: Ben­jamin I. Wheel­er, Alexan­der the Great (1900) in the “Heroes of the Na­tions Se­ries.” The pure­ly mil­itary as­pect of Alexan­der’s cam­paigns is treat­ed in gen­er­al his­to­ries of war­fare (Rus­tow-​Kochly, Bauer, Del­bruck, Verdy du Ver­nois), and in spe­cial mono­graphs by Hog­arth, Journ. of Philol. vol. xvii., 1888, pp. 1 foll.; H. Droy­sen, Un­ter­suchun­gen uber A. des Gr. Heer­we­sen (1885), and Graf Yor­ck von Warten­burg, Kurze Uber­sicht der Feldzuge A. de Gr. (1897). For fur­ther ref­er­ences to the lit­er­ature on Alexan­der, see Kaerst’s ar­ti­cle in Pauly-​Wis­sowa’s Realen­cy­clopadie (1894). (E. R. B.)

1 The use of the sur­name is proved as far back as the 1st cen­tu­ry B.C. (Nepos, De Reg. 2).

2 See Bauer,“Die Schlacht bei Is­sus” in Jahreshefte d.os­terr. ar­chaol. In­stit. ii. pp. 105 f.; A. Janke. Auf Alex. d. grossen Pfaden; Gruhn, Das Schlacht­feld von Is­sus; Lam­mert in Berl. Philol. Wochen­schr. (1905), col. 1596 f.

3 Pridik, De Alex. Mog. epist. com­mer­cio (Dor­pat, 1893); Schwartz, art. “Cur­tius” in Pauly-​Wis­sowa, col. 1884.

4 The sto­ry of Alexan­der’s vis­it to Jerusalem rests on no bet­ter au­thor­ity than a lat­er Jew­ish ro­mance.

5 The best opin­ion now con­firms Ab­bott’s iden­ti­fi­ca­tion of Aor­nus with Ma­ha­ban–Deane, Journ. R. Asi­at. Soc. (Oct. 1896), p. 673; them, Re­port of an Ar­chae­olog­ical Tour with the Buner Field Force (La­hore, 1898), pp. 45-48.

6 Be­side V. Smith (cit­ed be­low) see Schu­bert, “Die Poruss­chlacht,” in Rhein. Mus. lvi., 1901, p. 543.

7 There seems noth­ing to fix the ex­act spot of this town; the com­mon iden­ti­fi­ca­tion with Mul­tan is, ac­cord­ing to Raver­ty and V. Smith, cer­tain­ly wrong.

8 For the in­di­an cam­paigns of Alexan­der see es­pe­cial­ly Mc­Crindle, In­va­sion of In­dia by Alexan­der the Great (1896); Vin­cent A. Smith, Ear­ly His­to­ry of In­dia (1904), and the ref­er­ences there giv­en to the re­search­es of Sir T. H. Holdich, Raver­ty and Fouch­er; A. Anspach, De Alex. Mag­ni ex­ped. ind. (1903).

9 Tomaschek, “To­pographis­che Er­lauterung der Kusten­fahrt Nearchs” in the Sitzungs­berichte der kaiserl. Akad. d. Wis­sensch. of Vi­en­na (Philosoph.-his­tor. Klasse, vol. cxxi.); Ma­jor P. M. Sykes, Ten Thou­sand Miles in Per­sia (1902), pp. 166 f.

10 For Alexan­der’s fu­ner­al, see F. Ja­co­by in Rhein. Mus. (1903), pp. 461 f.

The Ro­mance of Alexan­der.

The fig­ure of Alexan­der nat­ural­ly im­pressed it­self up­on the imag­ina­tion of the world which his ca­reer had shak­en. Even in In­dia we are told that he was held in hon­our by the na­tive kings who took his far­thest provinces in pos­ses­sion. But East­ern tra­di­tion, so tena­cious of the old myths of prim­itive man, has a short mem­ory for ac­tu­al his­to­ry, and five cen­turies lat­er Alexan­der was on­ly re­mem­bered in Iran as the ac­cursed de­stroy­er of the sa­cred books, whose wis­dom he had at the same time pil­fered by caus­ing trans­la­tions to be made in­to “Ro­man.” That the East to-​day has so much to tell about Alexan­der is on­ly due to the fact that old myth­ical sto­ries of gods or heroes who go trav­el­ling through lands of mon­sters and dark­ness, of mag­ical foun­tains and un­earth­ly oceans, be­came at­tached to his name in the pop­ular lit­er­ature of the Ro­man em­pire, and this myth­ical Alexan­der was rein­tro­duced in the 7th cen­tu­ry A.D. in­to the far­ther East, where the his­tor­ical Alexan­der was al­most for­got­ten. The ro­mance of Alexan­der is found writ­ten in the lan­guages of near­ly all peo­ples from the In­di­an Ocean to the At­lantic, but all these ver­sions are de­rived, me­di­ate­ly or im­me­di­ate­ly, from the Greek orig­inal which cir­cu­lat­ed un­der the false name of Cal­lis­thenes. The Greek pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes (oth­er­wise Aiso­pos we pos­sess in three re­cen­sions, based all up­on a book pro­duced in Egypt in the 2nd cen­tu­ry A.D. But this book it­self was a far­ra­go of het­ero­ge­neous el­ements–pieces of gen­uine his­to­ry, an­cient sto­ries once told in Baby­lon of Gil­gamesh or Etan­na, lit­er­ary forg­eries of the days soon af­ter Alexan­der, like the old­est part of the “Tes­ta­ment of Alexan­der,” vari­ations due to Egyp­tian pa­tri­ot­ic sen­ti­ment, like that which made Alexan­der the son of the last Pharaoh, Nectaneb­us. As the sto­ry was re­pro­duced, vari­ations were freely in­tro­duced ac­cord­ing to the bent of dif­fer­ent times and peo­ples; in the Per­sian ver­sion Alexan­der (Iskan­der) be­came a son of Dar­ius; among the Ma­hommedans he turned in­to a prophet, hot against idols; the pen of Chris­tian monks made him an as­cetic saint.

The Alexan­der ro­mance found its way in­to Eu­rope through the medi­um of Latin, but orig­inat­ed main­ly from the ver­sions of the pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes, not from the more sober nar­ra­tive of Quin­tus Cur­tius. The pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes, in a re­cen­sion which has not been pre­served, was trans­lat­ed in­to Latin by Julius Va­lerius about the end of the 3rd cen­tu­ry, and an epit­ome of this trans­la­tion, al­so in Latin, was made some time be­fore the 9th cen­tu­ry, and is in­tro­duced by Vin­cent de Beau­vais in­to his Specu­lum his­to­ri­ale. Much of the leg­end is a run­ning trav­es­ty of the true his­to­ry of the con­queror. The first book deals with his birth and ear­ly ex­ploits. The trace of Alexan­dri­an in­flu­ence is to be found in the pre­tence that his ac­tu­al fa­ther was Nectaneb­us, a fugi­tive king of Egypt. The lat­ter was a great ma­gi­cian, able, by op­er­at­ing up­on wax­en fig­ures of the armies and ships of his en­emies, to ob­tain com­plete pow­er over their re­al ac­tions. Obliged, how­ev­er, to flee to Pel­la in Mace­do­nia, he es­tab­lished him­self as an as­trologer, and as such was con­sult­ed by the child­less Olympias. Hav­ing promised that Zeus Am­mon would vis­it her in the form of a drag­on, he him­self as­sumed the dis­guise. In due course Alexan­der was born, and Philip’s sus­pi­cions were over­come by a sec­ond ap­pear­ance of the drag­on, which was held to prove the di­vine fa­ther­hood. The child was small and some­what de­formed, but of great courage and in­tel­li­gence. When he was twelve years old he was in­struct­ed in star­craft by Nectaneb­us, who was killed by a fall in­to a pit, in­to which he had been play­ful­ly pushed by Alexan­der. The first book al­so re­lates his con­quests in Italy, Africa, Syr­ia and Asia Mi­nor; his re­turn to Mace­do­nia and the sub­mis­sion of Greece. The sec­ond book con­tin­ues the his­to­ry of his con­quests, and the third con­tains the vic­to­ry over Porus, the re­la­tions with the Brah­mins, the let­ter to Aris­to­tle on the won­ders of In­dia, the his­to­ries of Can­dace and the Ama­zons, the let­ter to Olympias on the mar­vels of Far­ther Asia, and last­ly the ac­count of Alexan­der’s death in Baby­lon.

The most wide-​spread Latin ver­sion of the sto­ry, how­ev­er, was the His­to­ria de proeli­is,1 print­ed at Strass­burg in 1486, which be­gan to su­per­sede the Epit­ome of Julius Va­lerius in gen­er­al favour about the end of the 13th cen­tu­ry. It is said to have been writ­ten by the Neapoli­tan arch-​pres­byter Leo, who was sent by Jo­hannes and Mar­inus, dukes of Cam­pa­nia (941-965) to Con­stantino­ple, where he found his Greek orig­inal. Aux­il­iary sources for the me­dieval ro­mance-​writ­ers were:–the opus­cule (4th cen­tu­ry) known as Alexan­dri mag­ni iter ad Par­adis­um, a fa­ble of East­ern ori­gin di­rect­ed against am­bi­tion; the Itinerar­ium Alexan­dri (340), based part­ly on Julius Va­lerius and ded­icat­ed to Con­stans, son of the em­per­or Con­stan­tine; the let­ter of Alexan­der to Aris­to­tle (Epist. de situ et mirabilibus In­di­ae), and the cor­re­spon­dence be­tween Alexan­der and the king of the Brah­mins, Dindimus, both of which are of­ten con­tained in MSS. of the Epit­ome; and the trea­tise (based on a lost his­to­ry of Alexan­der by Onesi­cri­tus), De gen­tibus In­di­ae et Brag­manibus, as­cribed with­out cer­tain­ty to Pal­la­dius (d. c. 430), suc­ces­sive­ly bish­op of He­le­nop­olis and Aspona.

The Ethiopic ver­sions are of great in­ter­est as a strik­ing ex­am­ple of lit­er­ary “ac­com­mo­da­tion.” Not on­ly is the whole at­mo­sphere Chris­tian in colour­ing, but we ac­tu­al­ly find the Greek gods in the guise of Enoch, Eli­jah, &c., while Philip is a Chris­tian mar­tyr, and Alexan­der him­self a great apos­tle, even a saint; quo­ta­tions from the Bible are fre­quent. Syr­iac and Ar­me­ni­an ver­sions were made in the 5th cen­tu­ry. Per­sians and Arabs told the deeds of Iskan­der; and Fir­dousi made use of the sto­ry in the Shah­na­ma. An­oth­er ear­ly Per­sian po­et, Niza­mi, made the sto­ry spe­cial­ly his own. The cru­saders brought back fresh de­vel­op­ments; Gog and Ma­gog (part­ly Arab and part­ly Greek) and some Jew­ish sto­ries were then added. In the 11th cen­tu­ry Sime­on Seth, pro­toves­tiar­ius at the Byzan­tine court, trans­lat­ed the fab­ulous his­to­ry from the Per­sian back in­to Greek.

The Alexan­der leg­end was the theme of po­et­ry in all Eu­ro­pean lan­guages; six or sev­en Ger­man po­ets dealt with the sub­ject, and it may be read in French, En­glish, Span­ish, Dan­ish, Swedish, Ice­landic, Flem­ish and Bo­hemi­an.

French.–The ear­li­est known French ro­mance of Alexan­der, by Al­ber­ic of Be­san­con (or more prop­er­ly Bri­an­con), was, un­til the dis­cov­ery of a frag­ment of 100 lines at Flo­rence in 1852, known on­ly through the Ger­man adap­ta­tion by Lam­precht the preach­er, who wrote to­wards the end of the 12th cen­tu­ry, and by the ver­sion made by a Poitevin po­et named Si­mon in deca­syl­lab­ic lines. Al­ber­ic fol­lowed the epit­ome of Julius Va­lerius. He had some knowl­edge of au­then­tic his­to­ry, and re­ject­ed the more mar­vel­lous el­ements of the sto­ry. The French feu­dal ro­mance, Li Ro­mans d’Alexan­dre, was writ­ten in the 12th cen­tu­ry by Lam­bert li Tors of Chateaudun, Alexan­dre de Bernai, sur­named de Paris, and oth­ers. It con­tained 20,000 lines, and was writ­ten in twelve-​syl­la­bled lines, whence the term “alexan­drine” verse. The au­thors en­dowed Alexan­der with the fash­ion­able virtues of the chival­ric hero, mak­ing him es­pe­cial­ly the type of lav­ish gen­eros­ity. They used as their sources Va­lerius, the let­ter to Aris­to­tle and the Iter ad Par­adis­um, adding much of their own. Pierre de Saint Cloud, the writ­er of the fourth sec­tion of the ro­mance, was ev­ident­ly ac­quaint­ed with the His­to­ria de proeli­is. The in­ci­dent of the Fuerre de Gadres (For­ay of Gaza), in­ter­po­lat­ed in the sec­ond sec­tion, is as­signed to a cer­tain Eu­stache. The redac­tion of the whole work is due to Alexan­dre de Bernai, who re­placed the orig­inal as­so­nance by rhyme. Ac­cord­ing to all the tra­di­tions of ro­mance it was nec­es­sary to avenge the death of Alexan­der. At the end of the 12th cen­tu­ry Gui de Cam­brai and Jean le Nevel­on (or Neve­laux or Venelais), each wrote a Vengeance d’Alexan­dre. Jean le Nevel­on re­lates how Alior, the son of Alexan­der and Can­dace, avenged his fa­ther’s death on An­tipa­ter and oth­ers. Be­tween 1310 and 1315 Jacques de Longuy­on (or Langhion) in­tro­duced in­to the ac­count of the In­di­an war Les Voeux du paon, a ro­manesque and fan­tas­tic episode very loose­ly con­nect­ed with Alexan­der. It is in­ter­est­ing for its con­nex­ion with the 15th-​cen­tu­ry ro­mance of Perce­for­est, since in it Alexan­der vis­its Britain, where he be­stows Scot­land on Gad­ifer and Eng­land on Betis (oth­er­wise Perce­for­est). Les Voeux du paon en­joyed great pop­ular­ity, and had two se­quels, Le Restor du paon, writ­ten be­fore 1338 by Jean Brise­barre de Douai, and Le Par­fait du paon, writ­ten in 1340 by Jean de la Mote. Flo­ri­mont, a 12th-​cen­tu­ry po­em by Ai­mon de Varenne, re­lates to a fic­ti­tious per­son­age said to have been the grand­fa­ther of Alexan­der. This po­em gave rise to two prose ro­mances–La Con­queste de Grece faicte par Philippe de Ma­di­en, by Per­rinet du Pin, first print­ed in 1527, and His­toire du roi Flo­ri­mond (1528). Quin­tus Cur­tius was large­ly used for the Alexan­dreis (c. 1180) of Gaulti­er de Lille or de Chatil­lon (Galtherus ab In­sulis or de Castel­lione). It is a Latin po­em in ten books of hex­am­eters, and con­tains a cu­ri­ous ad­mix­ture of Bib­li­cal his­to­ry. It was trans­lat­ed at the end of the next cen­tu­ry in­to Flem­ish by J. van Maer­lant and in­to Ger­man by Ul­rich von Es­chen­bach.

Of the French prose ver­sions of the His­to­ria de proeli­is may be no­ticed the late ro­mance, L’His­toire du no­ble et vail­lant roy Al­ixan­dre le Grant (1506). Af­ter an ac­count of the an­cient his­to­ry of Mace­do­nia and of the in­trigue of Nectaneb­us we are told how Philip dies, and how Alexan­der sub­dues Rome and re­ceives trib­ute from all Eu­ro­pean na­tions. He then makes his Per­sian ex­pe­di­tion; the In­di­an cam­paign gives oc­ca­sion for de­scrip­tions of all kinds of won­ders. The con­queror vis­its a can­ni­bal king­dom and finds many mar­vels in the palace of Porus, among them a vine with gold­en branch­es, emer­ald leaves and fruit of oth­er pre­cious stones. In one coun­try he meets with wom­en who, af­ter the buri­al in the win­ter, be­come alive again in the spring full of youth and beau­ty. Hav­ing reached the ends of the earth and con­quered all na­tions, he as­pires to the do­min­ion of the air. He ob­tains a mag­ic glass cage, yoked with eight griffins, flies through the clouds, and, thanks to en­chanters who know the lan­guage of birds, gets in­for­ma­tion as to their man­ners and cus­toms, and ul­ti­mate­ly re­ceives their sub­mis­sion. The ex­ces­sive heat of the up­per re­gions com­pels him to de­scend, and he next vis­its the bot­tom of the sea in a kind of div­ing-​bell. The fish crowd round him and pay homage. Alexan­der re­turns to Baby­lon, is crowned with much pomp and mass is cel­ebrat­ed. He dies by poi­son soon af­ter­wards.

En­glish Ver­sions.–The Alexan­der cy­cle was no less pop­ular in Great Britain. The let­ter from Alexan­der to Aris­to­tle and his cor­re­spon­dence with Dindimus are found in Ear­ly En­glish ver­sions dat­ing from the 11th cen­tu­ry. These are print­ed by O. Cock­ayne in his Nar­ratiun­cu­lae An­glice con­scrip­tae (1861). The Monk (De Cas. ill. vir.) in Chaucer’s Can­ter­bury Tales pref­aces his ac­count of Alexan­der with the state­ment that his sto­ry is so com­mon

That ev­ery wight that hath dis­cre­cioun Hath herd some­what or all of his for­tune. There are two con­sid­er­able frag­ments of an En­glish al­lit­er­ative ro­mance on the sub­ject writ­ten in the west mid­land di­alect, and dat­ing from the sec­ond half of the 14th cen­tu­ry. The first, The Gestes of the Wor­thy King and Em­per­or Al­isaun­der of Mace­doine (ed. W. W. Skeat, E.E.T.S., 1877, with William of Paler­mo) con­tains an ac­count of the wars of Philip, of Nectaneb­us and of the ed­uca­tion of Alexan­der. A sec­ond frag­ment (ed. Skeat, E.E.T.S., 1878) con­tains Alexan­der’s vis­it to the Gym­nosophists and his cor­re­spon­dence with Dindimus. An­oth­er al­lit­er­ative po­em in the north­ern di­alect, of 15th-​cen­tu­ry ori­gin, is based on the His­to­ria de proeli­is, and was edit­ed by Skeat for the E.E.T.S. (1886) as The Wars of Alexan­der. Ear­li­er than any of these is the rhyming Lyfe of Al­isaun­der (c. 1330) which is print­ed in H. We­ber’s Met­ri­cal Ro­mances (vol. i., 1810). It is writ­ten in un­usu­al­ly pic­turesque and vig­or­ous lan­guage, and is based on the Ro­man de toute cheva­lerie, a French com­pi­la­tion made about 1250 by a cer­tain Eu­stace or Thomas of Kent. Frag­ments of an­oth­er rhyming po­em (pr. c. 1550) are pre­served in the British Mu­se­um. The Scots Buik of the most no­ble and vai­lyze­and Con­queror Alexan­der the Great, print­ed by Alexan­der Ar­buth­not (d. 1585) about 1580, reprint­ed in 1831 for the Ban­natyne Club, is not re­al­ly a life. It con­tains three episodes of the cy­cle, the “For­ray of Gad­deris” (not tak­en from the Fuerre de Gadres but from the As­saut de Tyr in the Ro­mans d’Al­ixan­dre), “The Avowes of Alexan­der,” and “The Great Bat­tel of Effe­soun,” tak­en from the Voeux du paon. Many pas­sages in John Bar­bour’s Bruce are al­most iden­ti­cal with this book, and it is sug­gest­ed by G. Neil­son (John Bar­bour, Po­et and Trans­la­tor, Lon­don, 1900) that Bar­bour was the au­thor, al­though the colophon states that it was writ­ten in 1438. Bruce at Ban­nock­burn makes the same ora­tion as Alexan­der at “Effe­soun.” A Buke of the Con­queror Alexan­der the Great by Sir Gilbert Hay (fl. 1456) is in MS. at Tay­mouth Cas­tle.

BIB­LI­OG­RA­PHY.–The best sketch of the Alexan­der ro­mance lit­er­ature is by Paul Mey­er. Alexan­dre le grand dans la lit­ter­ature fran­caise au moyen age (2 vols., Paris, 1886). The first vol­ume con­tains some French texts, and the sec­ond a de­tailed dis­cus­sion of the var­ious ver­sions from the pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes down­wards. See al­so J. Zach­er, Pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes, Forschun­gen zur . . . . Alexan­der­sage (Halle, 1867), and for Ori­en­tal ver­sions, T. Nold­eke, ksl. Akad. d. Wis­sensch­aben, Phil.-hist. Klasse, vol. 38: Vi­en­na, 1890). For ear­ly print­ed ver­sions see Brunet, Manuel du li­braire, s.v. “Alexan­dre.”

The text of the pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes was edit­ed by C. W. Muller from three MSS. in the Bibl. Nat. and print­ed in the Ar­ri­an of the Coll. Di­dot (Paris, 1846), and by H. Meusel (Leipzig, 1871) from a Lei­den MS. A. Mai edit­ed Julius Va­lerius (Mi­lan, 1817) and the Itinerar­ium Alexan­dri (Class. Auct. vol. vii.; Mi­lan, 1835); J. Zach­er, the Epit­ome Halle, 1867) and Alex. iter ad Par­adis­um (Re­gens­burg, 1859); the Ox­ford MS. of the Epit­ome was edit­ed by G. Cil­li (Strass­burg, 1903); G. Land­graf, Die “Vi­ta Alexan­dri” . . . des Arch­pres­byter Leo (His­to­ria de proeli­is), (Er­lan­gen, 1885); Alexan­der’s let­ter to Aris­to­tle and his cor­re­spon­dence with Dindimus are in­clud­ed in the Teub­ner edi­tion of Julius Va­lerius (ed. B. Kubler, Leipzig, 1888). A new­ly dis­cov­ered anony­mous Epit­ome was edit­ed by O. Wag­ner (Leipzig, 1900).

The frag­ment by Al­ber­ic was edit­ed by P. Heyse (Berlin, 1856); Lam­precht’s Ger­man text by H. Weis­mann (Frank­fort, 1850) and by C. Kinzel (Halle, 1884); the Alexan­dreis of Gaulti­er de Lille, by F. A. W. Mulden­er (Leipzig, 1863); an Ice­landic prose ver­sion (c. 1250) of the same, Alexan­ders Saga, by C. R. Unger (Chris­tia­nia, 1848); Li Ro­mans d’Alexan­dre, by H. Michelant (Stuttgart, 1846); the Ethiopic ver­sion by E. A. T. Wal­lis Budge (1896, 2 vols., with En­glish trans­la­tion); the Syr­iac text of pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes by Budge (Cam­bridge, 1889); cp. K. F. Wey­mann, Die athiopis­che und ara­bis­che Uber­set­zun­gen des Pseu­do-​Kallis­thenes (Kirch­hain, 1901).

Be­sides the En­glish edi­tions quot­ed in the text, the al­lit­er­ative En­glish po­ems were par­tial­ly edit­ed by J. Steven­son for the Rox­burghe Club (1849). There is a great deal of in­for­ma­tion on the var­ious texts in H. L. Wood’s Cat­alogue of Ro­mances in the British Mu­se­um (1883, vol. i. pp. 94 et seq.). See al­so A. Her­mann, Un­ter­suchun­gen uber das Scot­tis­che Alexan­der­buch (1893); and Un­ters. uber das med. Gedicht, The Wars of Alexan­der (Berlin, 1889). Among oth­er works see E. Ronde, Der griechis­che Ro­man (2nd ed. Leipzig, 1900); B. Meiss­ner, Alexan­der u. Gil­gamos (Leipzig, 1894); F. Kam­pers, “Alex. d. Grosse und die Idee des Weltim­peri­ums in Prophet­ic und Sage” (in H. Granert’s Stu­di­en, &c., Freiburg, 1901); Adolf Aus­feld, Der griechis­che Alexan­der­ro­man (Leipzig, 1907), edit­ed af­ter the au­thor’s death by W. Kroll; Wil­helm Hertz, “Aris­tote­les in den Alex. Dich­tun­gen d. Mit­te­lal­ters” (Kgl. Acad. d. Wis­senschaften, Mu­nich, 1891); H. Beck­er, Die Brah­ma­nen in d. Alex. Sage (Konigs­berg, 1889). (M. BR.)

1 Na­tiv­itas et vic­to­ri­ae Alexan­dri mag­ni reg­is was the orig­inal ti­tle.

ALEXAN­DER, tagus or despot of Pher­ae in Thes­saly, ruled from 369 to 358 B.C. His tyran­ny caused the Aleuadae of Laris­sa to in­voke the aid of Alexan­der II. of Mace­don, whose in­ter­ven­tion was suc­cess­ful, but af­ter his with­draw­al Alexan­der treat­ed his sub­jects as cru­el­ly as be­fore. The Thes­salians now ap­plied to Thebes; Pelop­idas, who was sent to their as­sis­tance, was treach­er­ous­ly seized and thrown in­to prison (368), and it was nec­es­sary to send Epaminon­das with a large army to se­cure his re­lease. Alexan­der’s con­duct caused re­newed in­ter­ven­tion; in 364 he was de­feat­ed at Cynoscepha­lae by the The­bans, al­though the vic­to­ry was dear­ly bought by the loss of Pelop­idas, who fell in the bat­tle. Alexan­der was at last crushed by the The­bans, com­pelled to ac­knowl­edge the free­dom of the Thes­salian cities and to lim­it his rule to Pher­ae, and forced to join the Boeo­tian league. He was mur­dered by his wife’s broth­er at her in­sti­ga­tion. An­cient ac­counts agree in de­scrib­ing Alexan­der as a typ­ical­ly cru­el and sus­pi­cious tyrant.

ALEXAN­DER (1461-1506), king of Poland and grand- duke of Lithua­nia, fourth son of Casimir IV., king of Poland, was elect­ed grand-​duke of Lithua­nia on the death of his fa­ther in 1492, and king of Poland on the death of his broth­er John Al­bert in 1501. His ex­treme im­pe­cu­nios­ity made him from the first sub­servient to the Pol­ish sen­ate and no­bles (szlach­ta), who de­prived him of the con­trol of the mint–then one of the most lu­cra­tive sources of rev­enue of the Pol­ish kings–cur­tailed his pre­rog­ative, and gen­er­al­ly en­deav­oured to re­duce him to a sub­or­di­nate po­si­tion. This ill-​timed par­si­mo­ny re­act­ed in­ju­ri­ous­ly up­on Pol­ish pol­itics. Thus, for want of funds, Alexan­der was un­able to as­sist the Grand Mas­ter of the Or­der of the Sword against Mus­covite ag­gres­sion, or pre­vent Tsar Ivan III. from rav­aging Lithua­nia with the Tatars. The ut­most the king could do was to gar­ri­son Smolen­sk and oth­er fortress­es and em­ploy his wife He­le­na, the tsar’s daugh­ter, to me­di­ate a truce be­tween his fa­ther-​in-​law and him­self. Dur­ing his reign Poland suf­fered much hu­mil­ia­tion from the at­tempts of her sub­ject prin­ci­pal­ities, Prus­sia and Mol­davia, to throw off her yoke. On­ly the death of Stephen, the great hospo­dar of Mol­davia, en­abled Poland still to hold her own on the Danube; while the lib­er­al­ity of Pope Julius II., who is­sued no few­er than 29 bulls in favour of Poland and grant­ed Alexan­der Pe­ter’s Pence and oth­er fi­nan­cial help, en­abled the Pol­ish king to re­strain some­what the ar­ro­gance of the Teu­ton­ic Or­der. In Alexan­der the char­ac­ter­is­tic virtues of the Jagiel­los, pa­tience and gen­eros­ity, de­gen­er­at­ed in­to sloth­ful­ness and ex­trav­agance. Fre­quent­ly he was too poor to pay the ex­pens­es of his own ta­ble. But he nev­er felt at home in Poland, and be­stowed his favour prin­ci­pal­ly up­on his fel­low-​coun­try­men, the most no­table of whom was the wealthy Lithua­ni­an mag­nate Michael Glin­sky, who jus­ti­fied his mas­ter’s con­fi­dence by his great vic­to­ry over the Tatars at Kleck (Au­gust 5, 1506), the news of which was brought to Alexan­der on his deathbed.

See V. Cz­erny, The Reigns of John Al­bert and Alexan­der Jagiel­lo (Pol.) (Cra­cow, 1882).

ALEXAN­DER, the name of eight popes:–

ALEXAN­DER I. was bish­op of Rome from about 106 to 115. He has been iden­ti­fied, with­out any foun­da­tion, with Alexan­der, a mar­tyr of the Via No­men­tana, whose day is the 3rd of May.

ALEXAN­DER II. (Ansel­mo Bag­gio), pope from 1061 to 1073, was a na­tive of Mi­lan. As bish­op of Luc­ca he had been an en­er­get­ic coad­ju­tor with Hilde­brand in en­deav­our­ing to sup­press si­mo­ny, and to en­force the celiba­cy of the cler­gy. His elec­tion, which Hilde­brand had ar­ranged in con­for­mi­ty with the de­cree of 1059 (see NICHOLAS II.), was not sanc­tioned by the im­pe­ri­al court of Ger­many. This court, faith­ful to the prac­tice ob­served by it in the pre­ced­ing elec­tions, nom­ina­tod an­oth­er can­di­date, Cadalus, bish­op of Par­ma, who was pro­claimed at the coun­cil of Basel un­der the name of Hon­orius II., marched to Rome, and for a long time jeop­ar­dized his ri­val’s po­si­tion. At length, how­ev­er, he was aban­doned by the Ger­man­ic court and de­posed by a coun­cil held at Man­tua; and Alexan­der’s po­si­tion re­mained un­chal­lenged. Alexan­der was suc­ceed­ed by his as­so­ciate Hilde­brand, who took the ti­tle of Gre­go­ry VII. (L. D.*)

ALEXAN­DER III. (Or­lan­do Bandinel­li), pope from 1159 to 1181, was a Si­en­nese, and as a teach­er of canon law in Bologna com­posed the Stro­ma or the Sum­ma Mag­istri Rolan­di, one of the ear­li­est com­men­taries on the De­cre­tum Gra­tiani. In Oc­to­ber 1150 Eu­ge­nius III. cre­at­ed him car­di­nal dea­con SS. Cos­mae and Dami­ani; lat­er he be­came car­di­nal priest of St Mark’s. Prob­ably about this time he com­posed his Sen­tences, based on the In­tro­duc­tio ad the­olo­giam of Abelard. In 1153 he be­came pa­pal chan­cel­lor, and was the lead­er of the car­di­nals op­posed to Fred­er­ick Bar­barossa. On the 7th of Septem­ber 1159 he was cho­sen the suc­ces­sor of Adri­an IV., a mi­nor­ity of the car­di­nals, how­ev­er, elect­ing the car­di­nal priest Oc­ta­vian, who as­sumed the name of Vic­tor IV. This an­tipope, and his suc­ces­sors Paschal III. (1164-1168) and Cal­ix­tus III. (1168-1178), had the im­pe­ri­al sup­port; but af­ter the de­feat of Leg­nano, Bar­barossa fi­nal­ly (in the peace of Venice, 1177) rec­og­nized Alexan­der as pope. On the 12th of March 1178 Alexan­der re­turned to Rome, which he had been com­pelled to leave twice, name­ly, from 1162 un­til the 23rd of Novem­ber 1165, and again in 1167. The first pe­ri­od he spent in France, the lat­ter chiefly in Gae­ta, Ben­even­to, Anag­ni and Venice. In March 1179 Alexan­der held the third Lat­er­an syn­od, a bril­liant as­sem­blage, reck­oned by the Ro­man church as the eleventh oe­cu­meni­cal coun­cil; its acts em­body sev­er­al of the pope’s pro­pos­als for the bet­ter­ment of the con­di­tion of the church, among them the present law re­quir­ing that no one may be elect­ed pope with­out the votes of two-​thirds of the car­di­nals. This syn­od marks the sum­mit of Alexan­der’s pow­er. Be­sides check­mat­ing Bar­barossa, he had hum­bled Hen­ry II. of Eng­land in the af­fair of Thomas Beck­et, he had con­firmed the right of Alphon­so I. of Por­tu­gal to the crown, and even as a fugi­tive had en­joyed the favour and pro­tec­tion of Louis VII. of France. Nev­er­the­less, soon af­ter the close of the syn­od the Ro­man re­pub­lic forced Alexan­der to leave the city, which he nev­er re-​en­tered; and on the 29th of Septem­ber 1179 some no­bles set up the an­tipope In­no­cent III. By the ju­di­cious use of mon­ey, how­ev­er, Alexan­der got him in­to his pow­er, so that he was de­posed in Jan­uary 1180. In 1181 Alexan­der ex­com­mu­ni­cat­ed William the Li­on of Scot­land and put the king­dom un­der the in­ter­dict. The great pope died at Civi­ta Castel­lana on the 30th of Au­gust 1181.

See Her­zog-​Hauck, Realen­cyk­lopadie, 3rd ed., i. 340-344; Wet­zer and Welte, Kirchen­lexikon, 2nd ed., 1481. The most elab­orate bi­og­ra­phy is H. Reuter, Geschichte Alexan­ders III. und der Kirche sein­er Zeit (3 vols., 2nd ed., Leipzig, 1860). (W. W. R.*)

ALEXAN­DER IV. (Ri­nal­do), pope from 1254 to 1261, was, like In­no­cent III. and Gre­go­ry IX., a mem­ber of the fam­ily of the counts of Seg­ni. His un­cle Gre­go­ry IX. made him car­di­nal dea­con in 1227 and car­di­nal bish­op of Os­tia in 1231. On the death of In­no­cent IV. he was elect­ed pope at Naples on the 12th of De­cem­ber 1254. He is de­scribed as a stout man, kind­ly, cheer­ful, but of no great bril­lian­cy. He suc­ceed­ed In­no­cent IV. as guardian of Con­radin, the last of the Ho­hen­staufen, promis­ing him his benev­olent pro­tec­tion; but in less than a fort­night he con­spired against him and bit­ter­ly op­posed Con­radin’s un­cle Man­fred. Alexan­der ful­mi­nat­ed with ex­com­mu­ni­ca­tion and in­ter­dict against the par­ty of Man­fred, but in vain; nor could he en­list the kings of Eng­land and Nor­way in a cru­sade against the Ho­hen­staufen. Rome it­self be­came too Ghi­belline for the pope, who with­drew to Viter­bo, where he died on the 25th of May 1261. His pon­tif­icate was sig­nal­ized by ef­forts to unite the Greek and Latin church­es, by the es­tab­lish­ment of the In­qui­si­tion in France, by favours shown to the men­di­cant or­ders, and by an at­tempt to or­ga­nize a cru­sade against the Tatars.

The reg­is­ters of Alexan­der IV. are pub­lished by Bourel de la Ronciere and oth­ers in the Bib­lio­theque des Ecoles fran­cais­es d’Athenes et de Rome, Paris, 1895 ff. (W. W. R.*)

ALEXAN­DER V. (Pe­ter Phi­larges), pope 1409-1410, was born in Crete of un­known par­ents and en­tered the or­der of St Fran­cis, for which, as for the oth­er men­di­cant or­ders, he lat­er man­ifest­ed his af­fec­tion in a strik­ing man­ner. He was a mem­ber in turn of the uni­ver­si­ties of Ox­ford and Paris, and fi­nal­ly set­tled in Lom­bardy, where, thanks to the favour of Gi­an Galeaz­zo Vis­con­ti, he be­came bish­op, first of Pi­acen­za, then of Vin­cen­za, then of No­vara, and af­ter­wards arch­bish­op of Mi­lan. On be­ing cre­at­ed car­di­nal by In­no­cent VII. he de­vot­ed all his en­er­gies from 1408 on­wards to the re­al­iza­tion of the union of the church, in spite of the two ri­val popes. He was one of the pro­mot­ers of the coun­cil of Pisa, and af­ter that as­sem­bly had de­clared Gre­go­ry XII. and Bene­dict NI­II. de­posed, the car­di­nals as­sem­bled in con­clave thought they could not do bet­ter than crown with the tiara this cos­mopoli­tan prelate, who had an equal mas­tery of the Latin and Greek lan­guages, and was renowned not on­ly for his learn­ing in the­ol­ogy but for his af­fa­bil­ity (June 26, 1409). As a mat­ter of fact, the on­ly ef­fect of this elec­tion was to ag­gra­vate the schism by adding a third to the num­ber of ri­val pon­tif­fs. Dur­ing his short reign of ten months Alexan­der V.’s aim was to ex­tend his obe­di­ence with the as­sis­tance of France, and, no­tably, of the duke Louis II. of An­jou, up­on whom he con­ferred the in­vesti­ture of the king­dom of Sici­ly, to­geth­er with the ti­tle of gon­falonier of the church. He pro­claimed and promised rather than ef­fect­ed a cer­tain num­ber of re­forms: the aban­don­ment of the rights of “spoils” and “procu­ra­tions,” the re-​es­tab­lish­ment of the sys­tem of canon­ical elec­tion in the cathe­dral church­es and prin­ci­pal monas­ter­ies, &c. But death came up­on him al­most with­out warn­ing at Bologna, in the night of the 3rd-4th May 1410. A ru­mour went about that he had been poi­soned by the car­di­nal Bal­das­sare Cos­sa, im­pa­tient to be his suc­ces­sor, who suc­ceed­ed him in fact un­der the name of John XXI­II. The crime has, how­ev­er, nev­er been proved, though a Mi­lanese physi­cian, who per­formed the task of dis­sect­ing the corpse of Pe­ter Phi­larges, seems to have thought that he found traces of poi­son. (N. V.)

ALEXAN­DER VI. (Ro­dri­go Bor­gia) (1431-1503), pope from 1492 to his death, is the most mem­orable of the cor­rupt and sec­ular popes of the Re­nais­sance. He was born (Jan­uary 1, 1431) at Xa­ti­va, near Va­len­cia in Spain, and his fa­ther’s sur­name was Lan­zol or Llan­col; that of his moth­er’s fam­ily, Bor­gia or Bor­ja, was as­sumed by him on the el­eva­tion of his ma­ter­nal un­cle to the pa­pa­cy as Cal­ix­tus III. (April 8, 1455). He stud­ied law at Bologna, and af­ter his un­cle’s elec­tion he was cre­at­ed suc­ces­sive­ly bish­op, car­di­nal and vice-​chan­cel­lor of the church, an act of nepo­tism char­ac­ter­is­tic of the age. He served in the Cu­ria un­der five popes and ac­quired much ad­min­is­tra­tive ex­pe­ri­ence, in­flu­ence and wealth, al­though no great pow­er; he was eco­nom­ical in his habits; on oc­ca­sion he dis­played great splen­dour and lived in a fine palace. His man­ners were agree­able and his ap­pear­ance fas­ci­nat­ing, but, like many oth­er prelates of the day, his morals were far from blame­less, his two dom­inant pas­sions be­ing greed of gold and love of wom­en, and he was de­vot­ed­ly fond of the chil­dren whom his mis­tress­es bore him. Al­though ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal cor­rup­tion was then at its height, his ri­otous mode of life called down up­on him a very se­vere rep­ri­mand from Pope Pius II., who suc­ceed­ed Cal­ix­tus III. in 1458. Of his many mis­tress­es the one for whom his pas­sion last­ed longest was a cer­tain Van­noz­za (Gio­van­na) dei Cat­tani, born in 1442, and wife of three suc­ces­sive hus­bands. The con­nex­ion be­gan in 1470, and she bore him many chil­dren whom he open­ly ac­knowl­edged as his own: Gio­van­ni, af­ter­wards duke of Gan­dia (born 1474), Ce­sare (born 1476), Lu­crezia (born 1480), and Gof­fre­do or Giuf­fre (born 1481 or 1482). His oth­er chil­dren–Giro­lamo, Is­abel­la and Pier Lui­gi–were of un­cer­tain parent­age. Be­fore his el­eva­tion to the pa­pa­cy Car­di­nal Bor­gia’s pas­sion for Van­noz­za some­what di­min­ished, and she sub­se­quent­ly led a very re­tired life. Her place in his af­fec­tions was filled by the beau­ti­ful Giu­lia Far­nese (Giu­lia Bel­la), wife of an Orsi­ni, but his love for his chil­dren by Van­noz­za re­mained as strong as ev­er and proved, in­deed, the de­ter­min­ing fac­tor of his whole ca­reer. He lav­ished vast sums on them and load­ed them with ev­ery hon­our. A char­ac­ter­is­tic in­stance of the cor­rup­tion of the pa­pal court is the fact that Bor­gia’s daugh­ter Lu­crezia (see BOR­GIA, LU­CREZIA) lived with his mis­tress Giu­lia, who bore him a daugh­ter Lau­ra in 1492.

On the death of Pope In­no­cent VI­II. the three like­ly can­di­dates for the Holy See were Car­di­nals Bor­gia, As­canio Sforza and Giu­liano del­la Ro­vere; at no pre­vi­ous or sub­se­quent elec­tion were such im­mense sums of mon­ey spent on bribery, and Bor­gia by his great wealth suc­ceed­ed in buy­ing the largest num­ber of votes, in­clud­ing that of Sforza, and to his in­tense joy he was elect­ed on the 10th of Au­gust 1492, as­sum­ing the name of Alexan­der VI. Bor­gia’s el­eva­tion did not at the time ex­cite much alarm, ex­cept in some of the car­di­nals who knew him, and at first his reign was marked by a strict ad­min­is­tra­tion of jus­tice and an or­der­ly method of gov­ern­ment in sat­is­fac­to­ry con­trast with the an­ar­chy of the pre­vi­ous pon­tif­icate, as well as by great out­ward splen­dour. But it was not long be­fore his un­bri­dled pas­sion for en­dow­ing his rel­atives at the ex­pense of the church and of his neigh­bours be­came man­ifest. For this ob­ject he was ready to com­mit any crime and to plunge all Italy in­to war. Ce­sare, then a youth of six­teen and a stu­dent at Pisa, was made arch­bish­op of Va­len­cia, his nephew Gio­van­ni re­ceived a car­di­nal’s hat, and for the duke of Gan­dia and Giuf­fre the pope pro­posed to carve fiefs out of the pa­pal states and the king­dom of Naples. Among the fiefs des­tined for the duke of Gan­dia were Cervetri and An­guil­lara, late­ly ac­quired by Vir­ginio Orsi­ni, head of that pow­er­ful and tur­bu­lent house, with the pe­cu­niary help of Fer­di­nand of Aragon, king of Naples (Don Fer­rante). This brought the lat­ter in­to con­flict with Alexan­der, who de­ter­mined to re­venge him­self by mak­ing an al­liance with the king’s en­emies, es­pe­cial­ly the Sforza fam­ily, lords of Mi­lan. In this he was op­posed by Car­di­nal del­la Ro­vere, whose can­di­da­ture for the pa­pa­cy had been backed by Fer­di­nand. Del­la Ro­vere, feel­ing that Rome was a dan­ger­ous place for him, for­ti­fied him­self in his bish­opric of Os­tia at the Tiber’s mouth, while Fer­di­nand al­lied him­self with Flo­rence, Mi­lan, Venice, and the pope formed a league against Naples (April 25, 1493) and pre­pared for war. Fer­di­nand ap­pealed to Spain for help; but Spain was anx­ious to be on good terms with the pope to ob­tain a ti­tle over the new­ly dis­cov­ered con­ti­nent of Amer­ica and could not af­ford to quar­rel with him.

Alexan­der med­itat­ed great mar­riages for his chil­dren. Lu­crezia had been mar­ried to the Spaniard Don Gas­paro de Pro­ci­da, but on her fa­ther’s el­eva­tion to the pa­pa­cy the union was an­nulled, and in 1493 she was mar­ried to Gio­van­ni Sforza. lord of Pe­saro, the cer­emo­ny be­ing cel­ebrat­ed at the Vat­ican with un­par­al­leled mag­nif­icence. But in spite of the splen­dours of the court, the con­di­tion of Rome be­came ev­ery day more de­plorable. The city swarmed with Span­ish ad­ven­tur­ers, as­sas­sins, pros­ti­tutes and in­form­ers; mur­der and rob­bery were com­mit­ted with im­puni­ty, heretics and Jews were ad­mit­ted to the city on pay­ment of bribes, and the pope him­self shame­less­ly cast aside all show of deco­rum, liv­ing a pure­ly sec­ular and im­moral life, and in­du­jging in the chase, danc­ing, stage plays and in­de­cent or­gies. One of his boon com­pan­ions was Jem, the broth­er of the sul­tan Bayezid, de­tained as a hostage.

The gen­er­al po­lit­ical out­look in Italy was of the gloomi­est, and the coun­try was on the eve of the catas­tro­phe of for­eign in­va­sion. At Mi­lan Lodovi­co Sforza (il Mo­ro) ruled, nom­inal­ly as re­gent for the youth­ful duke Gi­an Galeaz­zo, but re­al­ly with a view to mak­ing him­self mas­ter of the state. He made many al­liances to se­cure his po­si­tion, but fear­ing him­self iso­lat­ed he sought help from Charles VI­II. of France, and as the king of Naples threat­ened to come to the aid of Gi­an Galeaz­zo, who had mar­ried his grand- daugh­ter, he en­cour­aged the French king in his schemes for the con­quest of Naples. Alexan­der car­ried on a dou­ble pol­icy, al­ways ready to seize op­por­tu­ni­ties to ag­gran­dize his fam­ily. But through the in­ter­ven­tion of the Span­ish am­bas­sador he made peace with Naples in Ju­ly 1493 and al­so with the Orsi­ni; the peace was ce­ment­ed by a mar­riage be­tween the pope’s son Giuf­fre and Dona San­cha, Fer­di­nand’s grand-​daugh­ter. In or­der to dom­inate the Sa­cred Col­lege more com­plete­ly he cre­at­ed twelve new car­di­nals, among them his own son Ce­sare, then on­ly eigh­teen years old, and Alessan­dro Far­nese, the broth­er of Giu­lia Bel­la, one of the pope’s mis­tress­es, cre­ations which caused much scan­dal. On the 25th of Jan­uary 1494 Fer­di­nand died and was suc­ceed­ed by his son Alphon­so II. Charles of France now ad­vanced for­mal claims on the king­dom, and Alexan­der drew him to his side and au­tho­rized him to pass through Rome os­ten­si­bly on a cru­sade against the Turks, with­out men­tion­ing Naples. But when the French in­va­sion be­came a re­al­ity he was alarmed, rec­og­nized Alphon­so as king, and con­clud­ed an al­liance with him in ex­change for var­ious fiefs to his sons (Ju­ly 1494). Prepa­ra­tions for de­fence were made; a Neapoli­tan army was to ad­vance through the Ro­magna and at­tack Mi­lan, while the fleet was to seize Genoa; but both ex­pe­di­tions were bad­ly con­duct­ed and failed, and on the 8th of Septem­ber Charles crossed the Alps and joined Lodovi­co il Mo­ro at Mi­lan. The pa­pal states were in a tur­moil, and the pow­er­ful Colon­na fac­tion seized Os­tia in the name of France. Charles rapid­ly ad­vanced south­ward, and af­ter a short stay in Flo­rence set out for Rome (Novem­ber 1494). Alexan­der ap­pealed to As­canio Sforza for help, and even to the sul­tan. He tried to col­lect troops and put Rome in a state of de­fence, but his po­si­tion was most in­se­cure, and the Orsi­ni of­fered to ad­mit the French to their cas­tles. This de­fec­tion de­cid­ed the pope to come to terms, and on the 31st of De­cem­ber Charles en­tered Rome with his troops and the car­di­nals of the French fac­tion. Alexan­der now feared that the king might de­pose him for si­mo­ny and sum­mon a coun­cil, but he won over the bish­op of St Ma­lo, who had much in­flu­ence over the king, with a car­di­nal’s hat, and agreed to send Ce­sare, as legate, to Naples with the French army, to de­liv­er Jem to Charles and to give him Civ­itavec­chia (Jan­uary 16, 1495). On the 28th Charles de­part­ed for Naples with Jem and Ce­sare, but the lat­ter es­caped to Spo­le­to. Neapoli­tan re­sis­tance col­lapsed; Alphon­so fled and ab­di­cat­ed in favour of his son Fer­di­nand II., who al­so had to fly aban­doned by all, and the king­dom was con­quered with sur­pris­ing ease. But a re­ac­tion against Charles soon set in, for all the pow­ers were alarmed at his suc­cess, and on the 31st of March a league be­tween the pope, the em­per­or, Venice, Lodovi­co il Mo­ro and Fer­di­nand of Spain was formed, os­ten­si­bly against the Turks, but in re­al­ity to ex­pel the French from Italy. Charles had him­self crowned king of Naples on the 12th of May, but a few days lat­er be­gan his re­treat north­ward. He en­coun­tered the al­lies at Forno­vo, and af­ter a drawn bat­tle cut his way through them and was back in France by Novem­ber; Fer­di­nand II. with Span­ish help was re­in­stat­ed at Naples soon af­ter­wards. The ex­pe­di­tion, if it pro­duced no ma­te­ri­al re­sults, laid bare the weak­ness of the Ital­ian po­lit­ical sys­tem and the coun­try’s in­ca­pac­ity for re­sis­tance.

Alexan­der availed him­self of the de­feat of the French to break the pow­er of the Orsi­ni, fol­low­ing the gen­er­al ten­den­cy of all the princes of the day to crush the great feuda­to­ries and es­tab­lish a cen­tral­ized despo­tism. Vir­ginio Orsi­ni, who had been cap­tured by the Spaniards, died a pris­on­er at Naples, and the pope con­fis­cat­ed his prop­er­ty. But the rest of the clan still held out, and the pa­pal troops sent against them un­der Guidobal­do duke of Urbino and the duke of Gan­dia were de­feat­ed at So­ri­ano (Jan­uary 1497). Peace was made through Vene­tian me­di­ation, the Orsi­ni pay­ing 50,000 ducats in ex­change for their con­fis­cat­ed lands; the duke of Urbino, whom they had cap­tured, was left by the pope to pay his own ran­som. The Orsi­ni still re­mained very pow­er­ful, and Alexan­der could count on none but his 3000 Spaniards. His on­ly suc­cess had been the cap­ture of Os­tia and the sub­mis­sion of the Fran­cophile car­di­nals Colon­na and Savel­li.

Now oc­curred the first of those ug­ly do­mes­tic tragedies for which the house of Bor­gia re­mained fa­mous. On the 14th of June the duke of Gan­dia, late­ly cre­at­ed duke of Ben­even­to, dis­ap­peared; the next day his corpse was found in the Tiber. Alexan­der, over­whelmed with grief, shut him­self up in Cas­tle St An­ge­lo, and then de­clared that the re­form of the church would be the sole ob­ject of his life hence­forth–a res­olu­tion which he did not keep. Ev­ery ef­fort was made to dis­cov­er the as­sas­sin, and sus­pi­cion fell on var­ious high­ly placed per­son­ages. Sud­den­ly the ru­mour spread about that Ce­sare, the pope’s sec­ond son, was the au­thor of the deed, and al­though the in­quiries then ceased and no con­clu­sive ev­idence has yet come to light, there is ev­ery prob­abil­ity that the charge was well found­ed. No doubt Ce­sare, who con­tem­plat­ed quit­ting the church, was in­spired by jeal­ousy. of Gan­dia’s in­flu­ence with the pope. Vi­olent and re­venge­ful, he now be­came the most pow­er­ful man in Rome, and even his fa­ther quailed be­fore him. As he need­ed funds to car­ry out his var­ious schemes, the pope be­gan a se­ries of con­fis­ca­tions, of which one of the vic­tims was his own sec­re­tary, in or­der to en­rich him. The pro­cess was a sim­ple one: any car­di­nal, no­ble­man or of­fi­cial who was known to be rich would be ac­cused of some of­fence; im­pris­on­ment and per­haps mur­der fol­lowed at once, and then the con­fis­ca­tion of his prop­er­ty. The dis­or­ga­ni­za­tion of the Cu­ria was ap­palling, the sale of of­fices be­came a ver­ita­ble scan­dal, the least op­po­si­tion to the Bor­gia was pun­ished with death, and even in that cor­rupt age the state of things shocked pub­lic opin­ion. The sto­ry of Alexan­der’s re­la­tions with Savonaro­la is nar­rat­ed un­der the lat­ter head­ing; it is suf­fi­cient to say here that the pope’s hos­til­ity was due to the fri­ar’s out­spo­ken in­vec­tives against pa­pal cor­rup­tion and to his ap­peals for a Gen­er­al Coun­cil. Alexan­der, al­though he could not get Savonaro­la in­to his own hands, brow­beat the Flo­ren­tine gov­ern­ment in­to con­demn­ing the re­former to death (May 23, 1498). The pope was un­able to main­tain or­der in his own do­min­ions; the hous­es of Colon­na and Orsi­ni were at open war with each oth­er, but af­ter much fight­ing they made peace on a ba­sis of al­liance against the pope. Thus fur­ther weak­ened, he felt more than ev­er that he had on­ly his own kin to re­ly up­on, and his thoughts were ev­er turned on fam­ily ag­gran­dize­ment. He had an­nulled Lu­crezia’s mar­riage with Sforza in 1497, and, un­able to ar­range a union be­tween Ce­sare and the daugh­ter of Fred­er­ick, king of Naples (who had suc­ceed­ed Fer­di­nand II. the pre­vi­ous year), he in­duced the lat­ter by threats to agree to a mar­riage be­tween the duke of Bis­ceglie, a nat­ural son of Alphon­so II., and Lu­crezia. Ce­sare, who re­nounced his car­di­nalate, was sent on a mis­sion to France at the end of the year, bear­ing a bull of di­vorce for the new king Louis XII., in ex­change for which he ob­tained the duchy of Valenti­nois (hence his ti­tle of Duca Valenti­no) and a promise of ma­te­ri­al as­sis­tance in his schemes to sub­ju­gate the feu­dal princelings of Ro­magna; he mar­ried a princess of Navarre. Alexan­der hoped that Louis’s help would be more prof­itable to his house than that of Charles had been and, in spite of the re­mon­strances of Spain and of the Sforza, he al­lied him­self with France in Jan­uary 1499 and was joined by Venice. By the au­tumn Louis was in Italy and ex­pelled Lodovi­co Sforza from the Mi­lanese. In or­der to con­sol­idate his pos­ses­sions still fur­ther, now that French suc­cess seemed as­sured, the pope de­ter­mined to deal dras­ti­cal­ly with Ro­magna, which al­though nom­inal­ly un­der pa­pal rule was di­vid­ed up in­to a num­ber of prac­ti­cal­ly in­de­pen­dent lord­ships on which Venice, Mi­lan and Flo­rence cast hun­gry eyes. Ce­sare, nom­inat­ed gon­faloniere of the Church, and strong in French favour, pro­ceed­ed to at­tack the tur­bu­lent cities one by one (for de­tail see BOR­GIA CE­SARE.) But the ex­pul­sion of the French from Mi­lan and the re­turn of Lodovi­co Sforza in­ter­rupt­ed his con­quests, and he re­turned to Rome ear­ly in 1500. This year was a ju­bilee year, and crowds of pil­grims flocked to the city from all parts of the world bring­ing mon­ey for the pur­chase of in­dul­gences, so that Alexan­der was able to fur­nish Ce­sare with funds for his en­ter­prise. In the north the pen­du­lum swung back once more and the French re­oc­cu­pied Mi­lan in April, caus­ing the down­fall of the Sforzas, much to Alexan­der’s grat­ifi­ca­tion. But there was no end to the Vat­ican tragedies, and in Ju­ly the duke of Bis­ceglie, whose ex­is­tence was no longer ad­van­ta­geous, was mur­dered by Ce­sare’s or­ders; this left Lu­crezia free to con­tract an­oth­er mar­riage. The pope, ev­er in need of mon­ey, now cre­at­ed twelve new car­di­nals, from whom he re­ceived 120,000 ducats, and fresh con­quests for Ce­sare were con­sid­ered. But while a cru­sade was talked of, the re­al ob­ject was cen­tral Italy, and in the au­tumn Ce­sare, favoured by France and Venice, set forth with 10,000 men to com­plete his in­ter­rupt­ed en­ter­prise. The lo­cal despots of Ro­magna were dis­pos­sessed and an ad­min­is­tra­tion was set up, which, if tyran­ni­cal and cru­el, was at least or­der­ly and strong, and aroused the ad­mi­ra­tion of Machi­avel­li (q.v..) On his re­turn to Rome (June 1501) he was cre­at­ed duke of Ro­magna. Louis XII., hav­ing suc­ceed­ed in the north, de­ter­mined to con­quer south­ern Italy as well, and con­clud­ed a treaty with Spain for the di­vi­sion of the Neapoli­tan king­dom, which was rat­ified by the pope on the 25th of June, Fred­er­ick be­ing for­mal­ly de­posed. The French army pro­ceed­ed to in­vade Naples, and Alexan­der took the op­por­tu­ni­ty, with the help of the Orsi­ni, to re­duce the Colon­na to obe­di­ence. In his ab­sence he left Lu­crezia as re­gent, of­fer­ing the as­tound­ing spec­ta­cle of a pope’s nat­ural daugh­ter in charge of the Holy See. Short­ly af­ter­wards he in­duced Alphon­so d’Este, son of the duke of Fer­rara, to mar­ry her, thus es­tab­lish­ing her as heiress to one of the most im­por­tant prin­ci­pal­ities in Italy (Jan­uary 1502). About this time a Bor­gia of doubt­ful parent­age was born, Gio­van­ni, de­scribed in some pa­pal doc­uments as Alexan­der’s son and in oth­ers as Ce­sare’s.

As France and Spain were quar­relling over the di­vi­sion of Naples and the Cam­pagna barons were qui­et, Ce­sare set out once more in search of con­quests. In June he seized Cameri­no and Urbino, the news of which cap­ture filled the pope with child­ish joy. But his mil­itary force was un­cer­tain, for the con­dot­tieri were not to be trust­ed. His at­tempt to draw Flo­rence in­to an al­liance failed, but in Ju­ly Louis of France again in­vad­ed Italy and was at once bom­bard­ed with com­plaints from the Bor­gia’s en­emies. Alexan­der’s diplo­ma­cy, how­ev­er, turned the tide, and Ce­sare, in ex­change for promis­ing to as­sist the French in the south, was giv­en a free hand in cen­tral Italy. A new dan­ger now arose in the shape of a con­spir­acy against him on the part of the de­posed despots, the Orsi­ni and some of his own con­dot­tieri. At first the pa­pal troops were de­feat­ed and things looked black for the house of Bor­gia. But a promise of French help at once forced the con­fed­er­ates to come to terms, and Ce­sare by an act of treach­ery seized the ringlead­ers at Seni­gal­lia, and put Oliv­erot­to da Fer­mo and Vitel­loz­zo Vitel­li to death (Dec. 31, 1502). As soon as Alexan­der heard the news he de­coyed Car­di­nal Orsi­ni to the Vat­ican and cast him in­to a dun­geon, where he died. His goods were con­fis­cat­ed, his aged moth­er turned in­to the street and num­bers of oth­er mem­bers of the clan in Rome were ar­rest­ed, while Giuf­fre Bor­gia led an ex­pe­di­tion in­to the Cam­pagna and seized their cas­tles. Thus the two great hous­es of Orsi­ni and Colon­na, who had long fought for pre­dom­inance in Rome and of­ten flout­ed the pope’s au­thor­ity, were sub­ju­gat­ed, and a great step achieved to­wards con­sol­idat­ing the Bor­gia’s pow­er. Ce­sare then re­turned to Rome, where his fa­ther wished him to as­sist Giuf­fre in re­duc­ing the last Orsi­ni strongholds; this for some rea­son he was un­will­ing to do, much to Alexan­der’s an­noy­ance, but he even­tu­al­ly marched out, cap­tured Ceri and made peace with Giulio Orsi­ni, who sur­ren­dered Brac­ciano. Three more high per­son­ages fell vic­tims to the Bor­gia’s greed this year, viz. Car­di­nal Michiel, who was poi­soned in April, J. da San­ta Croce, who had helped to seize Car­di­nal Orsi­ni, and Troches or Troc­cio, one of the fam­ily’s most faith­ful as­sas­sins; all these mur­ders brought im­mense sums to the pope. About Car­di­nal Fer­rari’s death there is more doubt; he prob­ably died of fever, but the pope im­me­di­ate­ly con­fis­cat­ed his goods.

The war be­tween France and Spain for the pos­ses­sion of Naples dragged on, and Alexan­der was ev­er in­trigu­ing, ready to al­ly him­self with whichev­er pow­er promised at the mo­ment most ad­van­ta­geous terms. He of­fered to help Louis on con­di­tion that Sici­ly be giv­en to Ce­sare, and then of­fered to help Spain in ex­change for Siena, Pisa and Bologna. Ce­sare was prepar­ing for an­oth­er ex­pe­di­tion in­to cen­tral Italy in Ju­ly 1503, when, in the midst of all these projects and ne­go­ti­ations, both he and his fa­ther were tak­en ill with fever. The oc­cur­rence was of course at­tribut­ed to poi­son, al­though quite with­out foun­da­tion, be­ing mere­ly due to malar­ia, at that time very preva­lent in Rome. On the 18th of Au­gust Alexan­der died at the age of 72. His death was fol­lowed by scenes of wild dis­or­der, and Ce­sare, be­ing him­self ill, could not at­tend to busi­ness, but sent Don Mich­elot­to, his chief bra­vo, to seize the pope’s trea­sures be­fore the demise was pub­licly an­nounced. When the body was ex­hib­it­ed to the peo­ple the next day it was in a shock­ing state of de­com­po­si­tion, which of course strength­ened the sus­pi­cion of poi­son. At the fu­ner­al a brawl oc­curred be­tween the sol­diers and the priests, and the cof­fin hav­ing been made too short the body with­out the mitre was driv­en in­to it by main force and cov­ered with an oil-​cloth. Alexan­der’s suc­ces­sor on the chair of St Pe­ter was Francesco Tode­schi­ni-​Pic­colo­mi­ni, who as­sumed the name of Pius III.

Alexan­der VI. has be­come al­most a myth­ical char­ac­ter, and count­less leg­ends and tra­di­tions are at­tached to his name. As a mat­ter of fact he can­not be re­gard­ed in any sense as a great man. His ca­reer shows no great po­lit­ical ideas, and none of his ac­tions in­di­cate ge­nius. His one thought was fam­ily ag­gran­dize­ment, and while it is un­like­ly that he med­itat­ed mak­ing the pa­pa­cy hered­itary in the house of Bor­gia, he cer­tain­ly gave away its tem­po­ral es­tates to his chil­dren as though they be­longed to him. The sec­ular­iza­tion of the church was car­ried to a pitch nev­er be­fore dreamed of, and it was clear to all Italy that he re­gard­ed the pa­pa­cy as an in­stru­ment of world­ly schemes with no thought of its re­li­gious as­pect. Dur­ing his pon­tif­icate the church was brought to its low­est lev­el of degra­da­tion. The con­di­tion of his sub­jects was de­plorable, and if Ce­sare’s rule in Ro­magna was an im­prove­ment on that of the lo­cal tyrants, the peo­ple of Rome have sel­dom been more op­pressed than un­der the Bor­gia. Alexan­der was not the on­ly per­son re­spon­si­ble for the gen­er­al un­rest in Italy and the for­eign in­va­sions, but he was ev­er ready to prof­it by them. Even if we do not ac­cept all the sto­ries of his mur­ders and poi­son­ings and im­moral­ities as true, there is no doubt that his greed for mon­ey and his es­sen­tial­ly vi­cious na­ture led him to com­mit a great num­ber of crimes. For many of his mis­deeds his ter­ri­ble son Ce­sare was re­spon­si­ble, but of oth­ers the pope can­not be ac­quit­ted. The one pleas­ing as­pect of his life is his pa­tron­age of the arts, and in his days a new ar­chi­tec­tural era was ini­ti­at­ed in Rome with the com­ing of Bra­mante. Raphael, Michelan­ge­lo and Pin­turic­chio all worked for him, and a cu­ri­ous con­trast, char­ac­ter­is­tic of the age, is af­ford­ed by the fact that a fam­ily so steeped in vice and crime could take plea­sure in the most exquisite works of art.

BIB­LI­OG­RA­PHY.–The chief con­tem­po­rary au­thor­ities for this reign are: the di­ary of Alexan­der’s mas­ter of cer­emonies, Jo­hannes Bur­chardus, edit­ed by L. Thuasne (Paris, 1883-1884), which is char­ac­ter­ized by ac­cu­ra­cy and ex­traor­di­nary can­dour of­ten amount­ing to gross in­de­cen­cy; the despatch­es of Gius­tini­ani, the Vene­tian am­bas­sador, edit­ed by P. Vil­lari (Flo­rence, 1876), which show great in­sight and are based on the most ac­cu­rate in­for­ma­tion; and Pao­lo Cap­pel­li’s “Di­arii” in E. Al­beri’s Re­lazioni, se­ries ii., iii. Among mod­ern works the most im­por­tant are: F. Gre­gorovius’s Geschichte der Stadt Rom (3rd ed., Stuttgart, 1881), a work of im­mense re­search and ad­mirable syn­the­sis, giv­ing a very un­favourable view of the Bor­gia; A. von Reumont’s Geschichte der Stadt Rom (Berlin, 1867-1870), al­so a valu­able book; M. Creighton’s His­to­ry of the Pa­pa­cy (Lon­don, 1897) is very learned and ac­cu­rate, but the au­thor is more le­nient to­wards Alexan­der; F. Gre­gorovius’s Lu­crezia Bor­gia (Stuttgart, 1874) con­tains a great deal of in­for­ma­tion on the Bor­gia fam­ily; P. Vil­lari’s Machi­avel­li (En­glish trans­la­tion, new ed., 1892) deals with the sub­ject at some length. Of the Catholic writ­ers L. Pas­tor, Geschichte der Pap­ste (Freiburg i. B, 1886) should be con­sult­ed, for al­though the au­thor tries to ex­ten­uate the pope to some ex­tent, on the whole he is fair. (L. V.*)

ALEXAN­DER VII. (Fabio Chi­gi), pope from 1655 to 1667, was born at Siena on the 13th of Febru­ary 1599. He was suc­ces­sive­ly in­quisi­tor at Mal­ta, vice-​legate at Fer­rara and nun­cio in Cologne (1639-1651). Though ex­pect­ed to take part in the ne­go­ti­ations which led in 1648 to the peace of West­phalia, he re­fused to de­lib­er­ate with heretics, and protest­ed against the treaties when com­plet­ed. In­no­cent X. sub­se­quent­ly made him car­di­nal sec­re­tary of state. When In­no­cent died, Chi­gi, the can­di­date favoured by Spain, was elect­ed pope on the 7th of April 1655. The con­clave be­lieved he was strong­ly op­posed to the nepo­tism then preva­lent. In the first year of his reign Alexan­der VII. for­bade his re­la­tions even to vis­it Rome; but in 1656 he gave them the best-​paid civ­il and ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal of­fices, al­so palaces and prince­ly es­tates. Alexan­der dis­liked busi­ness of state, pre­fer­ring lit­er­ature and phi­los­ophy; a col­lec­tion of his Latin po­ems ap­peared at Paris in 1656 un­der the ti­tle Philo­mathi La­bores Ju­ve­niles. He al­so en­cour­aged ar­chi­tec­ture, and in par­tic­ular con­struct­ed the beau­ti­ful colon­nade in the pi­az­za of St Pe­ter’s. He favoured the Je­suits, es­pe­cial­ly in their con­flict with the Jansenists, for­bade in 1661 the trans­la­tion of the Ro­man Missal in­to French, and in 1665 can­on­ized Fran­cis of Sales. His pon­tif­icate was marked by pro­tract­ed con­tro­ver­sies with France and Por­tu­gal. He died on the 22nd of May 1667. (W. W. R.*)

ALEXAN­DER VI­II. (Pietro Ot­to­boni), pope from 1689 to 1691, was born in 1610 of a no­ble Vene­tian fam­ily, was cre­at­ed car­di­nal, and then suc­ces­sive­ly bish­op of Bres­cia and datary. The am­bas­sador of Louis XIV. suc­ceed­ed in procur­ing his elec­tion on the 6th of Oc­to­ber 1689 as suc­ces­sor to In­no­cent XI.; nev­er­the­less, af­ter months of ne­go­ti­ation Alexan­der fi­nal­ly con­demned the dec­la­ra­tion made in 1682 by the French cler­gy con­cern­ing the lib­er­ties of the Gal­li­can church. Char­ities on a large scale and un­bound­ed nepo­tism ex­haust­ed the pa­pal trea­sury. He bought the books and manuscripts of Queen Christi­na of Swe­den for the Vat­ican li­brary. Alexan­der con­demned in 1690 the doc­trines of so-​called philo­soph­ic sin, taught in the Je­suit schools. He died on the 1st of Febru­ary 1691. (W. W. R.*)

ALEXAN­DER I. (ALEK­SANDER PAVLOVICH) (1777-1825), em­per­or of Rus­sia, son of the grand-​duke Paul Petro­vich, af­ter­wards Paul I., and Maria Fe­dorov­na, daugh­ter of Fred­er­ick Eu­gene of Wurt­tem­berg, was born on the 28th of De­cem­ber 1777. The strange con­tra­dic­tions of his char­ac­ter make Alexan­der one of the most in­ter­est­ing as he is one of the most im­por­tant fig­ures in the his­to­ry of the 19th cen­tu­ry. Au­to­crat and “Ja­cobin,” man of the world and mys­tic, he was to his con­tem­po­raries a rid­dle which each read ac­cord­ing to his own tem­per­ament. Napoleon thought him a “shifty Byzan­tine,” and called him the Tal­ma of the North, as ready to play any con­spic­uous part. To Met­ter­nich he was a mad­man to be hu­moured. Castlereagh, writ­ing of him to Lord Liv­er­pool, gives him cred­it for “grand qual­ities,” but adds that he is “sus­pi­cious and un­de­cid­ed.” His com­plex na­ture was, in truth, the out­come of the com­plex char­ac­ter of his ear­ly en­vi­ron­ment and ed­uca­tion. Reared in the free-​think­ing at­mo­sphere of the court of Cather­ine II. he had im­bibed from his Swiss tu­tor, Fred­er­ic Ce­sar de La­harpe, the prin­ci­ples of Rousseau’s gospel of hu­man­ity; from his mil­itary gov­er­nor, Gen­er­al Soltikov, the tra­di­tions of Rus­sian au­toc­ra­cy; while his fa­ther had in­spired him with his own pas­sion of mil­itary pa­rade, and taught him to com­bine a the­oret­ical love of mankind with a prac­ti­cal con­tempt for men. These con­tra­dic­to­ry ten­den­cies re­mained with him through life, re­vealed in the fluc­tu­ations of his pol­icy and in­flu­enc­ing through him the fate of the world. An­oth­er el­ement in his char­ac­ter dis­cov­ered it­self when in 1801 he mount­ed the throne over the body of his mur­dered fa­ther: a mys­tic melan­choly li­able at any mo­ment to is­sue in ex­trav­agant ac­tion. At first, in­deed, this ex­er­cised but lit­tle in­flu­ence on the em­per­or’s life. Young, emo­tion­al, im­pres­sion­able, well-​mean­ing and ego­tis­tic, Alexan­der dis­played from the first an in­ten­tion of play­ing a great part on the world’s stage, and plunged with all the ar­dour of youth in­to the task of re­al­iz­ing his po­lit­ical ide­als. While re­tain­ing for a time the old min­is­ters who had served and over­thrown the em­per­or Paul, one of the first acts of his reign was to ap­point a se­cret com­mit­tee, called iron­ical­ly the “Comite du salut pub­lic,” con­sist­ing of young and en­thu­si­as­tic friends of his own–Vic­tor Gavovich Kochubey, Niko­lai Niko­lae­vich Novosiltsov, Paul Alexan­drovich Stro­gonov and Adam Czarto­rys­ki–to draw up a scheme of in­ter­nal re­form. Their aims, in­spired by their ad­mi­ra­tion for En­glish in­sti­tu­tions, were far in ad­vance of the pos­si­bil­ities of the time, and even af­ter they had been raised to reg­ular min­is­te­ri­al po­si­tions but lit­tle of their pro­gramme could be re­al­ized. For Rus­sia was not ripe for lib­er­ty; and Alexan­der, the dis­ci­ple of the rev­olu­tion­ist La­harpe, was–as he him­self said–but “a hap­py ac­ci­dent” on the throne of the tsars. He spoke, in­deed, bit­ter­ly of “the state of bar­barism in which the coun­try had been left by the traf­fic in men.” “Un­der Paul,” he said, “three thou­sand peas­ants had been giv­en away like a bag of di­amonds. If civ­iliza­tion were more ad­vanced, I would abol­ish this slav­ery, if it cost me my head.”1 But the uni­ver­sal cor­rup­tion, he com­plained, had left him no men; and the fill­ing up of the gov­ern­ment of­fices with Ger­mans and oth­er for­eign­ers mere­ly ac­cen­tu­at­ed the sullen re­sis­tance of the “old Rus­sians” to his re­forms. That Alexan­der’s reign, which be­gan with so large a promise of ame­lio­ra­tion, end­ed by riv­et­ing still tighter the chains of the Rus­sian peo­ple was, how­ev­er, due less to the cor­rup­tion and back­ward­ness of Rus­sian life than to the de­fects of the tsar him­self. His love of lib­er­ty, though sin­cere, was in fact un­re­al. It flat­tered his van­ity to pose be­fore the world as the dis­penser of ben­efits; but his the­oret­ical lib­er­al­ism was mat­ed with an au­to­crat­ic will which brooked no con­tra­dic­tion. “You al­ways want to in­struct me!” he exlaimed to Derzhavin, the min­is­ter of jus­tice, “but I am the au­to­crat­ic em­per­or, and I will this, and noth­ing else!” “He would glad­ly have agreed,” wrote Adam Czarto­rys­ki, “that ev­ery one should be free, if ev­ery one had freely done on­ly what he wished.” More­over, with this mas­ter­ful tem­per was joined an in­fir­mi­ty of pur­pose which ev­er let “I dare not wait up­on I would,” and which seized up­on any ex­cuse for post­pon­ing mea­sures the prin­ci­ples of which he had pub­licly ap­proved. The cod­ifi­ca­tion of the laws ini­ti­at­ed in 1801 was nev­er car­ried out dur­ing his reign; noth­ing was done to im­prove the in­tol­er­able sta­tus of the Rus­sian peas­antry; the con­sti­tu­tion drawn up by Sper­an­ski, and passed by the em­per­or, re­mained un­signed. Alexan­der, in fact, who, with­out be­ing con­scious­ly tyran­ni­cal, pos­sessed in full mea­sure the tyrant’s char­ac­ter­is­tic dis­trust of men of abil­ity and in­de­pen­dent judg­ment, lacked al­so the first req­ui­site for a re­form­ing sovereign: con­fi­dence in his peo­ple; and it was this want that vi­ti­at­ed such re­forms as were ac­tu­al­ly re­al­ized. He ex­per­iment­ed in the out­ly­ing provinces of his em­pire; and the Rus­sians not­ed with open mur­murs that, not con­tent with gov­ern­ing through for­eign in­stru­ments, he was con­fer­ring on Poland, Fin­land and the Baltic provinces ben­efits de­nied to them­selves. In Rus­sia, too, cer­tain re­forms were car­ried out; but they could not sur­vive the sus­pi­cious in­ter­fer­ence of the au­to­crat and his of­fi­cials. The new­ly cre­at­ed coun­cil of min­is­ters, and the sen­ate, en­dowed for the first time with cer­tain the­oret­ical pow­ers, be­came in the end but the slav­ish in­stru­ments of the tsar and his favourites of the mo­ment. The elab­orate sys­tem of ed­uca­tion, cul­mi­nat­ing in the re­con­sti­tut­ed, or new-​found­ed, uni­ver­si­ties of Dor­pat, Vil­na, Kazan and Kharkov, was stran­gled in the sup­posed in­ter­ests of “or­der” and of or­tho­dox piety; while the mil­itary colonies which Alexan­der pro­claimed as a bless­ing to both sol­diers and state were forced on the un­will­ing peas­antry and army with piti­less cru­el­ty. Even the Bible So­ci­ety, through which the em­per­or in his lat­er mood of evan­gel­ical zeal pro­posed to bless his peo­ple, was con­duct­ed on the same ruth­less lines. The Ro­man arch­bish­op and the Or­tho­dox metropoli­tans were forced to serve on its com­mit­tee side by side with Protes­tant pas­tors; and vil­lage popes, trained to re­gard any tam­per­ing with the let­ter of the tra­di­tion­al doc­uments of the church as mor­tal sin, be­came the un­will­ing in­stru­ments for the prop­aga­tion of what they re­gard­ed as works of the dev­il.

Alexan­der’s grandiose imag­ina­tion was, how­ev­er, more strong­ly at­tract­ed by the great ques­tions of Eu­ro­pean pol­itics than by at­tempts at do­mes­tic re­form which, on the whole, wound­ed his pride by prov­ing to him the nar­row lim­its of ab­so­lute pow­er. On the mor­row of his ac­ces­sion he had re­versed the pol­icy of Paul, de­nounced the League of Neu­trals, and made peace with Eng­land (April 1801), at the same time open­ing ne­go­ti­ations with Aus­tria. Soon af­ter­wards at Memel he en­tered in­to a close al­liance with Prus­sia, not as he boast­ed from mo­tives of pol­icy, but in the spir­it of true chival­ry, out of friend­ship for the young king Fred­er­ick William and his beau­ti­ful wife. The de­vel­op­ment of this al­liance was in­ter­rupt­ed by the short-​lived peace of Oc­to­ber 1801; and for a while it seemed as though France and Rus­sia might come to an un­der­stand­ing. Car­ried away by the en­thu­si­asm of La­harpe, who had re­turned to Rus­sia from Paris, Alexan­der be­gan open­ly to pro­claim his ad­mi­ra­tion for French in­sti­tu­tions and for the per­son of Bona­parte. Soon, how­ev­er, came a change. La­harpe, af­ter a new vis­it to Paris, pre­sent­ed to the tsar his Re­flex­ions on the True Na­ture of the Con­sul­ship for Life, which, as Alexan­der said, tore the veil from his eyes, and re­vealed Bona­parte “as not a true pa­tri­ot,” but on­ly as “the most fa­mous tyrant the world has pro­duced.” His dis­il­lu­sion­ment was com­plet­ed by the mur­der of the duc d’En­ghien. The Rus­sian court went in­to mourn­ing for the last of the Con­des, and diplo­mat­ic re­la­tions with Paris were bro­ken off.

The events of the war that fol­lowed be­long to the gen­er­al his­to­ry of Eu­rope; but the tsar’s at­ti­tude through­out is per­son­al to him­self, though preg­nant with is­sues mo­men­tous for the world. In op­pos­ing Napoleon, “the op­pres­sor of Eu­rope and the dis­turber of the world’s peace,” Alexan­der in fact al­ready be­lieved him­self to be ful­fill­ing a di­vine mis­sion. In his in­struc­tions to Novosiltsov, his spe­cial en­voy in Lon­don, the tsar elab­orat­ed the mo­tives of his pol­icy in lan­guage which ap­pealed as lit­tle to the com­mon sense of Pitt as did lat­er the treaty of the Holy Al­liance to that of Castlereagh. Yet the doc­ument is of great in­ter­est, as in it we find for­mu­lat­ed for the first time in an of­fi­cial despatch those ex­alt­ed ide­als of in­ter­na­tion­al pol­icy which were to play so con­spic­uous a part in the af­fairs of the world at the close of the rev­olu­tion­ary epoch, and is­sued at the end of the 19th cen­tu­ry in the Re­script of Nicholas II.2 and the con­fer­ence of the Hague. The out­come of the war, Alexan­der ar­gued, was not to be on­ly the lib­er­ation of France, but the uni­ver­sal tri­umph of “the sa­cred rights of hu­man­ity.” To at­tain this it would be nec­es­sary “af­ter hav­ing at­tached the na­tions to their gov­ern­ment by mak­ing these in­ca­pable of act­ing save in the great­est in­ter­ests of their sub­jects, to fix the re­la­tions of the states amongst each oth­er on more pre­cise rules, and such as it is to their in­ter­est to re­spect.” A gen­er­al treaty was to be­come the ba­sis of the re­la­tions of the states form­ing “the Eu­ro­pean Con­fed­er­ation”; and this, though “it was no ques­tion of re­al­iz­ing the dream of uni­ver­sal peace, would at­tain some of its re­sults if, at the con­clu­sion of the gen­er­al war, it were pos­si­ble to es­tab­lish on clear prin­ci­ples the pre­scrip­tions of the rights of na­tions.” “Why could not one sub­mit to it,” the tsar con­tin­ued, “the pos­itive rights of na­tions, as­sure the priv­ilege of neu­tral­ity, in­sert the obli­ga­tion of nev­er be­gin­ning war un­til all the re­sources which the me­di­ation of a third par­ty could of­fer have been ex­haust­ed, hav­ing by this means brought to light the re­spec­tive grievances, and tried to re­move them? It is on such prin­ci­ples as these that one could pro­ceed to a gen­er­al paci­fi­ca­tion, and give birth to a league of which the stip­ula­tions would form, so to speak, a new code of the law of na­tions, which, sanc­tioned by the greater part of the na­tions of Eu­rope, would with­out dif­fi­cul­ty be­come the im­mutable rule of the cab­inets, while those who should try to in­fringe it would risk bring­ing up­on them­selves the forces of the new union.”3

Mean­while Napoleon, lit­tle de­terred by the Rus­sian au­to­crat’s youth­ful ide­al­ogy, nev­er gave up hope of de­tach­ing him from the coali­tion. He had no soon­er en­tered Vi­en­na in tri­umph than he opened ne­go­ti­ations with him; he re­sumed them af­ter Auster­litz. Rus­sia and France, he urged, were “ge­ograph­ical al­lies”; there was, and could be, be­tween them no true con­flict of in­ter­ests; to­geth­er they might rule the world. But Alexan­der was still de­ter­mined “to per­sist in the sys­tem of dis­in­ter­est­ed­ness in re­spect of all the states of Eu­rope which he had thus far fol­lowed,” and he again al­lied him­self with Prus­sia. The cam­paign of Je­na and the bat­tle of Ey­lau fol­lowed; and Napoleon, though still in­tent on the Rus­sian al­liance, stirred up Poles, Turks and Per­sians to break the ob­sti­na­cy of the tsar. A par­ty too in Rus­sia it­self, head­ed by the tsar’s broth­er the grand-​duke Con­stan­tine, was clam­orous for peace; but Alexan­der, af­ter a vain at­tempt to form a new coali­tion, sum­moned the Rus­sian na­tion to a holy war against Napoleon as the en­emy of the or­tho­dox faith. The out­come was the rout of Fried­land (June 13 and 14, 1807). Napoleon saw his chance and seized it. In­stead of mak­ing heavy terms, he of­fered to the chas­tened au­to­crat his al­liance, and a part­ner­ship in his glo­ry.

The two em­per­ors met at Tilsit on the 25th of June. Alexan­der, daz­zled by Napoleon’s ge­nius and over­whelmed by his ap­par­ent gen­eros­ity, was com­plete­ly won. Napoleon knew well how to ap­peal to the ex­uber­ant imag­ina­tion of his new-​found friend. He would di­vide with Alexan­der the em­pire of the world; as a first step he would leave him in pos­ses­sion of the Danu­bian prin­ci­pal­ities and give him a free hand to deal with Fin­land; and, af­ter­wards, the em­per­ors of the East and West, when the time should be ripe, would drive the Turks from Eu­rope and march across Asia to the con­quest of In­dia. A pro­gramme so stu­pen­dous awoke in Alexan­der’s im­pres­sion­able mind an am­bi­tion to which he had hith­er­to been a stranger. The in­ter­ests of Eu­rope were for­got­ten. “What is Eu­rope?” he ex­claimed to the French am­bas­sador. “Where is it, if it is not you and we?”4

The bril­liance of these new vi­sions did not, how­ev­er, blind Alexan­der to the obli­ga­tions of friend­ship; and he re­fused to re­tain the Danu­bian prin­ci­pal­ities as the price for suf­fer­ing a fur­ther dis­mem­ber­ment of Prus­sia. “We have made loy­al war,” he said, “we must make a loy­al peace.” It was not long be­fore the first en­thu­si­asm of Tilsit be­gan to wane. Napoleon was prodi­gal of promis­es, but nig­gard of their ful­fil­ment. The French re­mained in Prus­sia, the Rus­sians on the Danube; and each ac­cused the oth­er of breach of faith. Mean­while, how­ev­er, the per­son­al re­la­tions of Alexan­der and Napoleon were of the most cor­dial char­ac­ter; and it was hoped that a fresh meet­ing might ad­just all dif­fer­ences be­tween them. The meet­ing took place at Er­furt in Oc­to­ber 1808, and re­sult­ed in a treaty which de­fined the com­mon pol­icy of the two em­per­ors. But Alexan­der’s re­la­tions with Napoleon none the less suf­fered a change. He re­al­ized that in Napoleon sen­ti­ment nev­er got the bet­ter of rea­son, that as a mat­ter of fact he had nev­er in­tend­ed his pro­posed “grand en­ter­prise” se­ri­ous­ly, and had on­ly used it to pre­oc­cu­py the mind of the tsar while he con­sol­idat­ed his own pow­er in cen­tral Eu­rope. From this mo­ment the French al­liance was for Alexan­der al­so not a fra­ter­nal agree­ment to rule the world, but an af­fair of pure pol­icy. He used it, in the first in­stance, to re­move “the ge­ograph­ical en­emy” from the gates of St Pe­ters­burg by wrest­ing Fin­land from the Swedes (1809); and he hoped by means of it to make the Danube the south­ern fron­tier of Rus­sia. Events were in fact rapid­ly tend­ing to the rup­ture of the Fran­co-​Rus­sian al­liance. Alexan­der, in­deed, as­sist­ed Napoleon in the war of 1809, but he de­clared plain­ly that he would not al­low Aus­tria to be crushed out of ex­is­tence; and Napoleon com­plained bit­ter­ly of the in­ac­tiv­ity of the Rus­sian troops dur­ing the cam­paign. The tsar in his turn protest­ed against Napoleon’s en­cour­age­ment of the Poles. In the mat­ter of the French al­liance he knew him­self to be prac­ti­cal­ly iso­lat­ed in Rus­sia, and he de­clared that he could not sac­ri­fice the in­ter­est of his peo­ple and em­pire to his af­fec­tion for Napoleon. “I don’t want any­thing for my­self,” he said to the French am­bas­sador, “there­fore the world is not large enough to come to an un­der­stand­ing on the af­fairs of Poland, if it is a ques­tion of its restora­tion.”5 The treaty of Vi­en­na, which added large­ly to the grand-​duchy of War­saw, he com­plained had “ill re­quit­ed him for his loy­al­ty,” and he was on­ly mol­li­fied for the time by Napoleon’s pub­lic dec­la­ra­tion that he had no in­ten­tion of restor­ing Poland, and by a con­ven­tion, signed on the 4th of Jan­uary 1810 but not rat­ified, abol­ish­ing the Pol­ish name and or­ders of chival­ry.

But if Alexan­der sus­pect­ed Napoleon, Napoleon was no less sus­pi­cious of Alexan­der; and, part­ly to test his sin­cer­ity, he sent an al­most peremp­to­ry re­quest for the hand of the grand- duchess Anne, the tsar’s youngest sis­ter. Af­ter some lit­tle de­lay Alexan­der re­turned a po­lite re­fusal, on the plea of the princess’s ten­der age and the ob­jec­tion of the dowa­ger em­press to the mar­riage. Napoleon’s an­swer was to refuse to rat­ify the con­ven­tion of the 4th of Jan­uary, and to an­nounce his en­gage­ment to the arch­duchess Marie Louise in such a way as to lead Alexan­der to sup­pose that the two mar­riage treaties had been ne­go­ti­at­ed si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly. From this time the re­la­tion be­tween the two em­per­ors grad­ual­ly be­came more and more strained. The an­nex­ation of Old­en­burg, of which the duke was the tsar’s un­cle, to France in De­cem­ber 1810, added an­oth­er to the per­son­al grievances of Alexan­der against Napoleon; while the ru­inous re­ac­tion of “the con­ti­nen­tal sys­tem” on Rus­sian trade made it im­pos­si­ble for the tsar to main­tain a pol­icy which was Napoleon’s chief mo­tive for the al­liance. An acid cor­re­spon­dence fol­lowed, and ill-​con­cealed ar­ma­ments, which cul­mi­nat­ed in the sum­mer of 1812 in Napoleon’s in­va­sion of Rus­sia. Yet, even af­ter the French had passed the fron­tier, Alexan­der still protest­ed that his per­son­al sen­ti­ments to­wards the em­per­or were un­al­tered; “but,” he added, “God Him­self can­not un­do the past.” It was the oc­cu­pa­tion of Moscow and the des­ecra­tion of the Krem­lin, the sa­cred cen­tre of Holy Rus­sia, that changed his sen­ti­ment for Napoleon in­to pas­sion­ate ha­tred. In vain the French em­per­or, with­in eight days of his en­try in­to Moscow, wrote to the tsar a let­ter, which was one long cry of dis­tress, re­veal­ing the des­per­ate straits of the Grand Army, and ap­pealed to “any rem­nant of his for­mer sen­ti­ments.” Alexan­der re­turned no an­swer to these “fan­faron­nades.” “No more peace with Napoleon!” he cried, “He or I, I or He: we can­not longer reign to­geth­er!”6

The cam­paign of 1812 was the turn­ing-​point of Alexan­der’s life; and its hor­rors, for which his sen­si­tive na­ture felt much of the re­spon­si­bil­ity, over­set still more a mind nev­er too well bal­anced. At the burn­ing of Moscow, he de­clared af­ter­wards, his own soul had found il­lu­mi­na­tion, and he had re­al­ized once for all the di­vine rev­ela­tion to him of his mis­sion as the peace­mak­er of Eu­rope. He tried to calm the un­rest of his con­science by cor­re­spon­dence with the lead­ers of the evan­gel­ical re­vival on the con­ti­nent, and sought for omens and su­per­nat­ural guid­ance in texts and pas­sages of scrip­ture. It was not, how­ev­er, ac­cord­ing to his own ac­count, till he met the Baroness de Kru­den­er–a re­li­gious ad­ven­turess who made the con­ver­sion of princes her spe­cial mis­sion–at Basel, in the au­tumn of 1813, that his soul found peace. From this time a mys­tic pietism be­came the avowed force of his po­lit­ical, as of his pri­vate ac­tions. Madame de Kru­den­er, and her col­league, the evan­ge­list Em­pay­taz, be­came the con­fi­dants of the em­per­or’s most se­cret thoughts; and dur­ing the cam­paign that end­ed in the oc­cu­pa­tion of Paris the im­pe­ri­al prayer-​meet­ings were the or­acle on whose rev­ela­tions hung the fate of the world.

Such was Alexan­der’s mood when the down­fall of Napoleon left him the most pow­er­ful sovereign in Eu­rope. With the mem­ory of Tilsit still fresh in men’s minds, it was not un­nat­ural that to cyn­ical men of the world like Met­ter­nich he mere­ly seemed to be dis­guis­ing “un­der the lan­guage of evan­gel­ical ab­ne­ga­tion” vast and per­ilous schemes of am­bi­tion. The puz­zled pow­ers were, in fact, the more in­clined to be sus­pi­cious in view of oth­er, and seem­ing­ly in­con­sis­tent, ten­den­cies of the em­per­or, which yet seemed all to point to a like dis­qui­et­ing con­clu­sion. For Madame de Kru­den­er was not the on­ly in­flu­ence be­hind the throne; and, though Alexan­der had de­clared war against the Rev­olu­tion, La­harpe was once more at his el­bow, and the catch­words of the gospel of hu­man­ity were still on his lips. The very procla­ma­tions which de­nounced Napoleon as “the ge­nius of evil,” de­nounced him in the name of “lib­er­ty,” and of “en­light­en­ment.” A mon­strous in­trigue was sus­pect­ed for the al­liance of the east­ern au­to­crat with the Ja­cobin­ism of all Eu­rope, which would have is­sued in the sub­sti­tu­tion of an all-​pow­er­ful Rus­sia for an all-​pow­er­ful France. At the congress of Vi­en­na Alexan­der’s at­ti­tude ac­cen­tu­at­ed this dis­trust. Castlereagh, whose sin­gle-​mind­ed aim was the restora­tion of “a just equi­lib­ri­um” in Eu­rope, re­proached the tsar to his face for a “con­science” which suf­fered him to im­per­il the con­cert of the pow­ers by keep­ing his hold on Poland in vi­ola­tion of his treaty obli­ga­tion.7

Yet Alexan­der was sin­cere. Even the Holy Al­liance, the pet off­spring of his pietism, does not de­serve the sin­is­ter rep­uta­tion it has since ob­tained. To the oth­er pow­ers it seemed, at best “ver­biage” and “ex­alt­ed non­sense,” at worst an ef­fort of the tsar to es­tab­lish the hege­mo­ny of Rus­sia on the good­will of the small­er sig­na­to­ry pow­ers. To the Lib­er­als, then and af­ter­wards it was clear­ly a hyp­ocrit­ical con­spir­acy against free­dom. Yet to Alexan­der him­self it seemed the on­ly means of plac­ing the “con­fed­er­ation of Eu­rope” on a firm ba­sis of prin­ci­ple8 and, so far from its be­ing di­rect­ed against lib­er­ty he de­clared round­ly to all the sig­na­to­ry pow­ers that “free con­sti­tu­tions were the log­ical out­come of its doc­trines.” Eu­rope, in fact, owed much at this time to Alexan­der’s ex­alt­ed tem­per. Dur­ing the pe­ri­od when his in­flu­ence was supreme, the fate­ful years, that is, be­tween the Moscow cam­paign and the close of the congress of Aix-​la-​Chapelle, it had been used large­ly in the in­ter­ests of mod­er­ation and lib­er­ty. To him main­ly it was due that France was saved from dis­mem­ber­ment, and re­ceived a con­sti­tu­tion which, to use his own words, “unit­ed crown and rep­re­sen­ta­tives of the peo­ple in a sense of com­mon in­ter­ests.”9 By his wise in­ter­ven­tion Switzer­land was saved from vi­olent re­ac­tion, and suf­fered to pre­serve the es­sen­tial gains of the Rev­olu­tion. To his pro­tec­tion it was due that the weak be­gin­nings of con­sti­tu­tion­al free­dom in Ger­many were able for a while to de­fy the ha­tred of Aus­tria. Last­ly, what­ev­er its ul­ti­mate out­come, the con­sti­tu­tion of Poland was, in its in­cep­tion, a gen­uine ef­fort to re­spond to the ap­peal of the Poles for a na­tion­al ex­is­tence.

From the end of the year 1818 Alexan­der’s views be­gan to change. A rev­olu­tion­ary con­spir­acy among the of­fi­cers of the guard, and a fool­ish plot to kid­nap him on his way to the congress of Aix-​la-​Chapelle (q.v.), are said to have shak­en the foun­da­tions of his Lib­er­al­ism. At Aix he came for the first time in­to in­ti­mate con­tact with Met­ter­nich, and the as­tute Aus­tri­an was swift to take ad­van­tage of the psy­cho­log­ical mo­ment. From this time dates the as­cen­dan­cy of Met­ter­nich over the mind of the Rus­sian em­per­or and in the coun­cils of Eu­rope. It was, how­ev­er, no case of sud­den con­ver­sion. Though alarmed by the rev­olu­tion­ary ag­ita­tion in Ger­many, which cul­mi­nat­ed in the mur­der of his agent, the drama­tist Kotze­bue (q.v.), Alexan­der ap­proved of Castlereagh’s protest against Met­ter­nich’s pol­icy of “the gov­ern­ments con­tract­ing an al­liance against the peo­ples,” as for­mu­lat­ed in the Carls­bad de­crees, 1819, and dep­re­cat­ed any in­ter­ven­tion of Eu­rope to sup­port “a league of which the sole ob­ject is the ab­surd pre­ten­sions of ab­so­lute pow­er.”10 He still de­clared his be­lief in “free in­sti­tu­tions, though not in such as age forced from fee­ble­ness, nor con­tracts or­dered by pop­ular lead­ers from their sovereigns, nor con­sti­tu­tions grant­ed in dif­fi­cult cir­cum­stances to tide over a cri­sis. “Lib­er­ty,” he main­tained, “should be con­fined with­in just lim­its. And the lim­its of lib­er­ty are the prin­ci­ples of or­der.”11

It was the ap­par­ent tri­umph of the prin­ci­ples of dis­or­der in the rev­olu­tions of Naples and Pied­mont, com­bined with in­creas­ing­ly dis­qui­et­ing symp­toms of dis­con­tent in France, Ger­many and among his own peo­ple, that com­plet­ed Alexan­der’s con­ver­sion. In the seclu­sion of the lit­tle town of Trop­pau, where in Oc­to­ber of 1820 the pow­ers met in con­fer­ence, Met­ter­nich found an op­por­tu­ni­ty for ce­ment­ing his in­flu­ence over Alexan­der which had been want­ing amid the tur­moil and fem­inine in­trigues of Vi­en­na and Aix. Here, in con­fi­dence be­got­ten of friend­ly chats over af­ter­noon tea, the dis­il­lu­sioned au­to­crat con­fessed his mis­take. “You have noth­ing to re­gret,” he said sad­ly to the ex­ul­tant chan­cel­lor, “but I have!”12 The is­sue was mo­men­tous. In Jan­uary Alexan­der had still up­held the ide­al of a free con­fed­er­ation of the Eu­ro­pean states, sym­bol­ized by the Holy Al­liance, against the pol­icy of a dic­ta­tor­ship of the great pow­ers, sym­bol­ized by the Quadru­ple Treaty; he had still protest­ed against the claims of col­lec­tive Eu­rope to in­ter­fere in the in­ter­nal con­cerns of the sovereign states. On the 19th of Novem­ber he signed the Trop­pau Pro­to­col, which con­se­crat­ed the prin­ci­ple of in­ter­ven­tion and wrecked the har­mo­ny of the con­cert. (See TROP­PAU, CONGRESS OF.)

At Laibach, whith­er in the spring of 1821 the congress had been ad­journed, Alexan­der first heard of the re­volt of the Greeks. From this time un­til his death his mind was torn be­tween his anx­iety to re­al­ize his dream of a con­fed­er­ation of Eu­rope and his tra­di­tion­al mis­sion as lead­er of the Or­tho­dox cru­sade against the Turks. At first, un­der the care­ful nurs­ing of Met­ter­nich, the for­mer mo­tive pre­vailed. He struck the name of Alexan­der Yp­si­lan­ti from the Rus­sian army list, and di­rect­ed his for­eign min­is­ter, Count Capo d’Is­tria, him­self a Greek, to dis­avow all sym­pa­thy of Rus­sia with his en­ter­prise; and, next year, a dep­uta­tion of the Greeks of the Morea on its way to the congress of Verona was turned back by his or­ders on the road. He made, in­deed, some ef­fort to rec­on­cile the prin­ci­ples at con­flict in his mind. He of­fered to sur­ren­der the claim, suc­cess­ful­ly as­sert­ed when the sul­tan had been ex­clud­ed from the Holy Al­liance and the af­fairs of the Ot­toman em­pire from the de­lib­er­ations of Vi­en­na, that the af­fairs of the East were the “do­mes­tic con­cerns of Rus­sia,” and to march in­to Turkey, as Aus­tria had marched in­to Naples, “as the manda­to­ry of Eu­rope.”13 Met­ter­nich’s op­po­si­tion to this, il­log­ical, but nat­ural from the Aus­tri­an point of view, first opened his eyes to the true char­ac­ter of Aus­tria’s at­ti­tude to­wards his ide­als. Once more in Rus­sia, far from the fas­ci­na­tion of Met­ter­nich’s per­son­al­ity, the im­memo­ri­al spir­it of his peo­ple drew him back in­to it­self; and when, in the au­tumn of 1825, he took his dy­ing em­press for change of air to the south of Rus­sia, in or­der–as all Eu­rope sup­posed–to place him­self at the head of the great army con­cen­trat­ed near the Ot­toman fron­tiers, his lan­guage was no longer that of “the peace-​mak­er of Eu­rope,” but of the Or­tho­dox tsar de­ter­mined to take the in­ter­ests of his peo­ple and of his re­li­gion “in­to his own hands.” Be­fore the mo­men­tous is­sue could be de­cid­ed, how­ev­er, Alexan­der died at Tagan­rog on the 1st of De­cem­ber (Novem­ber 18, O.S.) 1825, “crushed”, to use his own words, “be­neath the ter­ri­ble bur­den of a crown” which he had more than once de­clared his in­ten­tion of re­sign­ing. A re­port, cur­rent at the time and of­ten re­vived, af­firmed that he did not in fact die. By some it is sup­posed that a mys­te­ri­ous her­mit named Fomich, who lived at Tom­sk un­til 1870 and was treat­ed with pe­cu­liar def­er­ence by suc­ces­sive tsars, was none oth­er than Alexan­der.14

Mod­ern his­to­ry knows no more trag­ic fig­ure than that of Alexan­der. The bril­liant promise of his ear­ly years; the haunt­ing mem­ory of the crime by which he had ob­tained the pow­er to re­al­ize his ide­als; and, in the end, the ter­ri­ble lega­cy he left to Rus­sia: a prin­ci­ple of gov­ern­ment which, un­der lofty pre­ten­sions, veiled a tyran­ny sup­port­ed by spies and se­cret po­lice; an un­cer­tain suc­ces­sion; an army per­me­at­ed by or­ga­nized dis­af­fec­tion; an armed Poland, whose hunger for lib­er­ty the tsar had whet­ted but not sat­is­fied; the quar­rel with Turkey, with its al­ter­na­tive of war or hu­mil­ia­tion for Rus­sia; an ed­uca­tion­al sys­tem rot­ten with of­fi­cial hypocrisy; a Church in which con­duct count­ed for noth­ing, or­tho­doxy and cer­emo­ni­al ob­ser­vance for ev­ery­thing; eco­nom­ical and fi­nan­cial con­di­tions scarce re­cov­er­ing from the verge of ru­in; and last­ly, that curse of Rus­sia,–serf­dom.

In pri­vate life Alexan­der dis­played many lov­able qual­ities. All au­thor­ities com­bine in prais­ing his hand­some pres­ence and the af­fa­bil­ity and charm of his ad­dress, to­geth­er with a cer­tain sim­plic­ity of per­son­al tastes, which led him in his in­ter­course with his friends or with the rep­re­sen­ta­tives of friend­ly pow­ers to dis­pense with cer­emo­ni­al and eti­quette. His per­son­al friend­ship, too, once be­stowed, was nev­er light­ly with­drawn. By na­ture he was so­cia­ble and plea­sure-​lov­ing, he proved him­self a no­table pa­tron of the arts and he took a con­spic­uous part in all the gai­eties of the congress of Vi­en­na. In his lat­er years, how­ev­er, he fell in­to a mood of set­tled melan­choly; and, though still ac­ces­si­ble to all who chose to ap­proach him with com­plaints or pe­ti­tions, he with­drew from all but the most es­sen­tial so­cial func­tions, and lived a life of stren­uous work and of Spar­tan sim­plic­ity. His gloom had been in­creased by do­mes­tic mis­for­tune. He had been mar­ried, in 1793, with­out his wish­es be­ing con­sult­ed, to the beau­ti­ful and ami­able Princess Maria Louisa of Baden (Eliz­abeth Feodor­ov­na), a po­lit­ical match which, as he re­gret­ful­ly con­fessed to his friend Fred­er­ick William of Prus­sia, had proved the mis­for­tune of both; and he con­soled him­self in the tra­di­tion­al man­ner. The on­ly child of the mar­riage, a lit­tle grand-​duchess, died on the 12th of May 1808; and their com­mon sor­row drew hus­band and wife clos­er to­geth­er. To­wards the close of his life their rec­on­cil­ia­tion was com­plet­ed by the wise char­ity of the em­press in sym­pa­thiz­ing deeply with him over the death of his beloved daugh­ter by Madame Nar­ishkine.


AU­THOR­ITIES.–F. de Mar­tins, Re­cueil des traites con­clus par la Russie, &c. (St Pe­tersb., 1874, &c.); Welling­ton Despatch­es Castlereagh Cor­re­spon­dence; Prince Adam Czarto­rys­ki, Mem­oires et cor­re­spon­dance avec l’em­pereur Alexan­dre I. (Paris, 1887, 2 vols.). P. Bailleu (ed). Briefwech­sel Konig Friedrich Wil­helm’s III. und der Koni­gin Luise mit Kaiser Alexan­der I. (Leipzig, 1900); La­harpe, Le Gou­verneur d’un Prince (F. C de La­harpe et Alexan­dre I. de Russie) 1902; Serge Tatis­cheff, Alexan­dre I. et Napoleon d’apres leur cor­re­spon­dance inedite (Paris, 1901); Joseph de Maistre, Mem­oires his­toriques et cor­re­spon­dance diplo­ma­tique, ed. A. Blanc (2nd ed., 1859); Comtesse de Choiseul-​Gouffi­er, Mem­oires his­toriques sur l’em­pereur Alexan­dre (1829), and Rem­inis­cences sur l’em­pereur Alexan­dre I., &c. (Paris, 1862); Rule­mann Friedrich Eylert, Charak­terzuge und his­torische Frag­mente aus dem Leben Konig Friedrich Wil­helm’s III. (1846); H. L. Em­pay­taz, No­tice sur Alexan­dre Em­pereur de Russie (2nd ed., Paris, 1840); Comte A. de la Garde- Cham­bonas, Sou­venirs du Con­gres de Vi­enne; publ. avec in­trod. et notes par le Cte. Fleury (1901).

LIVES.–The prin­ci­pal life of Alexan­der I. is that, in Rus­sian, by Niko­lai Karlovich Schilder, Im­per­ator Alek­sander, &c. (4 vols., St Pe­tersb., 1897, 1898). See al­so Bog­danovich, His­to­ry of the Gov­ern­ment of the Em­per­or Alexan­der I. (St Pe­ters­burg, 1869-1871, Niko­laus I. Band i. Kaiser Alexan­der I. und die Ergeb­nisse sein­er Leben­sar­beit (Berl., 1904), a valu­able study based up­on much new ma­te­ri­al from the state archives of St Pe­ters­burg, Paris, Berlin and Vi­en­na; A. Van­dal, Napoleon et Alexan­dre I.: l’al­liance Russe sous le pre­mier em­pire (3 vols., Paris, 1891-1896); A. N. Pypin, Po­lit­ical and Lit­er­ary Move­ments un­der Alexan­der I. (Rus­sian, 2nd ed. St Pe­ters­burg, 1885; Ger­man, Berlin, 1894). Among the nu­mer­ous less au­thor­ita­tive bi­ogra­phies may be men­tioned Ivan Golovin, His­toire d’Alexan­dre I. (Leipzig, 1859), and C. Joyneville, Life and Times of Alexan­der I. (3 vols., 1875). This last con­tains much valu­able in­for­ma­tion, but the ref­er­ences in foot­notes are of­ten want­ing in pre­ci­sion, and it has no in­dex. (W. A. P.)

1 Savary to Napoleon, Nov. 4, 1807. Tatis­cheff, p. 226.

2 Cir­cu­lar of Count Mu­raviev, Aug. 24, 1898.

3 In­struc­tions to M. Novosiltsov, Sept. 11, 1804. Tatise­heff, p. 82.

4 Savary to Napoleon, Nov. 18, 1807. Tatis­cheff, p. 232.

5 Coulain­court to Napoleon, 4th re­port, Aug. 3, 1809. Tatis­cheff, p. 496.

6 Alexan­der speak­ing to Colonel Michaud. Tatis­cheff, p. 612.

7 Castlereagh to Liv­er­pool, Oct. 2, 1814. F.O. Pa­pers. Vi­en­na VII.

8 Martens IV. oart i. p. 49.

9 Etat des ne­go­ci­ations actueelles, &c., mem. pre­pared by or­der of the Tsar, Ju­ly 16, 1815, en­closed in Castlereagh to Liv­er­pool, F.O. Cont. pa­pers. Congress Paris, Castlereagh, 22.

10 Despatch of Lieven, Nov. 30 (Dec. 12), 1819, and Russ. Cir­cu­lar of Jan. 27, 1820. Martens IV. part i. p. 270.

11 Aper­cu des idees de l’Em­pereur, Martens IV. part i. p. 269.

12 Met­ter­nich Mem.

13 Martens IV. part i. pp. 307, &c.

14 See W. Gasiorows­ki, Trag­ic Rus­sia, trans­lat­ed by Vis­count de Bu­san­cy (Lon­don, 1908).

ALEXAN­DER II. (1818-1881), em­per­or of Rus­sia, el­dest son of Nicholas I., was born on the 29th of April 1818. His ear­ly life gave lit­tle in­di­ca­tion of his sub­se­quent ac­tiv­ity, and up to the mo­ment of his ac­ces­sion in 1855 no one ev­er imag­ined that he would be known to pos­ter­ity as a great re­former. In so far as he had any de­cid­ed po­lit­ical con­vic­tions, he seemed to be an­imat­ed with that re­ac­tionary spir­it which was pre­dom­inant in Eu­rope at the time of his birth, and con­tin­ued in Rus­sia to the end of his fa­ther’s reign. In the pe­ri­od of thir­ty years dur­ing which he was heir-​ap­par­ent, the moral at­mo­sphere of St Pe­ters­burg was very un­favourable to the de­vel­op­ment of any orig­inal­ity of thought or char­ac­ter. It was a time of gov­ern­ment on mar­tinet prin­ci­ples, un­der which all free­dom of thought and all pri­vate ini­tia­tive were as far as pos­si­ble sup­pressed vig­or­ous­ly by the ad­min­is­tra­tion. Po­lit­ical top­ics were stu­dious­ly avoid­ed in gen­er­al con­ver­sa­tion, and books or news­pa­pers in which the most keen-​scent­ed press-​cen­sor could de­tect the least odour of po­lit­ical or re­li­gious free-​think­ing were strict­ly pro­hib­it­ed. Crit­icism of ex­ist­ing au­thor­ities was re­gard­ed as a se­ri­ous of­fence. The com­mon po­lice­man, the in­signif­icant scribe in a pub­lic of­fice, and even the ac­tors in the “im­pe­ri­al” the­atres, were pro­tect­ed against pub­lic cen­sure as ef­fec­tu­al­ly as the gov­ern­ment it­self; for the whole ad­min­is­tra­tion was con­sid­ered as one and in­di­vis­ible, and an at­tack on the hum­blest rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the im­pe­ri­al au­thor­ity was looked on as an in­di­rect at­tack on the foun­tain from which that au­thor­ity flowed. Such was the moral at­mo­sphere in which young Alexan­der Nico­lae­vich grew up to man­hood. He re­ceived the ed­uca­tion com­mon­ly giv­en to young Rus­sians of good fam­ily at that time–a smat­ter­ing of a great many sub­jects, and a good prac­ti­cal ac­quain­tance with the chief mod­ern Eu­ro­pean lan­guages. Like so many of his coun­try­man he dis­played great lin­guis­tic abil­ity, and his quick ear caught up even pe­cu­liar­ities of di­alect. His or­di­nary life was that of an of­fi­cer of the Guards, mod­ified by the cer­emo­ni­al du­ties in­cum­bent on him as heir to the throne. Nom­inal­ly he held the post of di­rec­tor of the mil­itary schools, but he took lit­tle per­son­al in­ter­est in mil­itary af­fairs. To the dis­ap­point­ment of his fa­ther, in whom the mil­itary in­stinct was ev­er pre­dom­inant, he showed no love of sol­dier­ing, and gave ev­idence of a kind­li­ness of dis­po­si­tion and a ten­der-​heart­ed­ness which were con­sid­ered out of place in one des­tined to be­come a mil­itary au­to­crat. These ten­den­cies had been fos­tered by his tu­tor Zhukovsky, the ami­able hu­man­itar­ian po­et, who had made the Rus­sian pub­lic ac­quaint­ed with the lit­er­ature of the Ger­man ro­man­tic school, and they re­mained with him all through life, though they did not pre­vent him from be­ing se­vere in his of­fi­cial po­si­tion when he be­lieved sever­ity to be nec­es­sary. In 1841 he mar­ried the daugh­ter of the grand-​duke Louis II. of Hesse, Max­im­ili­enne Wil­helmine Marie, thence­for­ward known as Maria Alexan­drov­na, who bore him six sons and two daugh­ters. He did not trav­el much abroad, for his fa­ther, in his de­sire to ex­clude from Holy Rus­sia the sub­ver­sive ideas cur­rent in West­ern Eu­rope, dis­ap­proved for­eign tours, and could not con­sis­tent­ly en­cour­age in his own fam­ily what he tried to pre­vent among the rest of his sub­jects. He vis­it­ed Eng­land, how­ev­er, in 1839, and in the years im­me­di­ate­ly pre­ced­ing his ac­ces­sion he was en­trust­ed with sev­er­al mis­sions to the courts of Berlin and Vi­en­na. On the 2nd of March 1855, dur­ing the Crimean War, he suc­ceed­ed to the throne on the death of his fa­ther.

The first year of the new reign was de­vot­ed to the pros­ecu­tion of the war, and af­ter the fall of Sev­astopol, to ne­go­ti­ations for peace. Then be­gan a pe­ri­od of rad­ical re­forms, rec­om­mend­ed by pub­lic opin­ion and car­ried out by the au­to­crat­ic pow­er. The rule of Nicholas, which had sac­ri­ficed all oth­er in­ter­ests to that of mak­ing Rus­sia an ir­re­sistibly strong mil­itary pow­er, had been tried by the Crimean War and found want­ing. A new sys­tem must, there­fore, be adopt­ed. All who had any pre­ten­sions to en­light­en­ment de­clared loud­ly that the coun­try had been ex­haust­ed and hu­mil­iat­ed by the war, and that the on­ly way of restor­ing it to its prop­er po­si­tion in Eu­rope was to de­vel­op its nat­ural re­sources and to re­form thor­ough­ly all branch­es of the ad­min­is­tra­tion. The gov­ern­ment found, there­fore, in the ed­ucat­ed class­es a new-​born pub­lic spir­it, anx­ious to as­sist it in any work of re­form that it might think fit to un­der­take. For­tu­nate­ly for Rus­sia the au­to­crat­ic pow­er was now in the hands of a man who was im­pres­sion­able enough to be deeply in­flu­enced by the spir­it of the time, and who had suf­fi­cient pru­dence and prac­ti­cal com­mon-​sense to pre­vent his be­ing car­ried away by the pre­vail­ing ex­cite­ment in­to the dan­ger­ous re­gion of Utopi­an dream­ing. Un­like some of his pre­de­ces­sors, he had no grand, orig­inal schemes of his own to im­pose by force on un­will­ing sub­jects, and no pet crotch­ets to lead his judg­ment astray; and he in­stinc­tive­ly looked with a sus­pi­cious, crit­ical eye on the panaceas which more imag­ina­tive and less cau­tious peo­ple rec­om­mend­ed. These traits of char­ac­ter, to­geth­er with the pe­cu­liar cir­cum­stances in which he was placed, de­ter­mined the part which he was to play. He mod­er­at­ed, guid­ed and in great mea­sure re­al­ized the re­form as­pi­ra­tions of the ed­ucat­ed class­es.

Eman­ci­pa­tion of the serfs.

Though he care­ful­ly guard­ed his au­to­crat­ic rights and priv­ileges, and ob­sti­nate­ly re­sist­ed all ef­forts to push him far­ther than he felt in­clined to go he act­ed for sev­er­al years some­what like a con­sti­tu­tion­al sovereign of the con­ti­nen­tal type. At first he moved so slow­ly that many of the im­pa­tient, would-​be re­form­ers be­gan to mur­mur at the un­nec­es­sary de­lay. In re­al­ity not much time was lost. Soon af­ter the con­clu­sion of peace im­por­tant changes were made in the leg­is­la­tion con­cern­ing in­dus­try and com­merce, and the new free­dom thus ac­cord­ed pro­duced a large num­ber of lim­it­ed li­abil­ity com­pa­nies. At the same time plans were formed for con­struct­ing a great net­work of rail­ways, part­ly for the pur­pose of de­vel­op­ing the nat­ural re­sources of the coun­try, and part­ly for the pur­pose of in­creas­ing its pow­ers of de­fence and at­tack. Then it was found that fur­ther progress was blocked by a great ob­sta­cle, the ex­is­tence of serfage: and Alexan­der II. showed that, un­like his fa­ther, he meant to grap­ple bold­ly with the dif­fi­cult and dan­ger­ous prob­lem. Tak­ing ad­van­tage of a pe­ti­tion pre­sent­ed by the Pol­ish land­ed pro­pri­etors of the Lithua­ni­an provinces, pray­ing that their re­la­tions with the serfs might be reg­ulat­ed in a more sat­is­fac­to­ry way–mean­ing in a way more sat­is­fac­to­ry for the pro­pri­etors–he au­tho­rized the for­ma­tion of com­mit­tees “for ame­lio­rat­ing the con­di­tion of the peas­ants,” and laid down the prin­ci­ples on which the ame­lio­ra­tion was to be ef­fect­ed. This was a de­cid­ed step and it was fol­lowed by one still more sig­nif­icant. With­out con­sult­ing his or­di­nary ad­vis­ers, his majesty or­dered the min­is­ter of the in­te­ri­or to send a cir­cu­lar to the provin­cial gov­er­nors of Eu­ro­pean Rus­sia, con­tain­ing a copy of the in­struc­tions for­ward­ed to the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al of Lithua­nia, prais­ing the sup­posed gen­er­ous, pa­tri­ot­ic in­ten­tions of the Lithua­ni­an land­ed pro­pri­etors, and sug­gest­ing that per­haps the land­ed pro­pri­etors of oth­er provinces might ex­press a sim­ilar de­sire. The hint was tak­en, of course, and in all provinces where serfage ex­ist­ed eman­ci­pa­tion com­mit­tees were formed. The de­lib­er­ations at once raised a host of im­por­tant, thorny ques­tions. The eman­ci­pa­tion was not mere­ly a hu­man­itar­ian ques­tion ca­pa­ble of be­ing solved in­stan­ta­neous­ly by im­pe­ri­al ukaz. It con­tained very com­pli­cat­ed prob­lems af­fect­ing deeply the eco­nom­ic, so­cial and po­lit­ical fu­ture of the na­tion. Alexan­der II. had lit­tle of the spe­cial knowl­edge re­quired for deal­ing suc­cess­ful­ly with such prob­lems, and he had to re­strict him­self to choos­ing be­tween the dif­fer­ent mea­sures rec­om­mend­ed to him. The main point at is­sue was whether the serfs should be­come agri­cul­tur­al labour­ers de­pen­dent eco­nom­ical­ly and ad­min­is­tra­tive­ly on the land­lords, or should be trans­formed in­to a class of in­de­pen­dent com­mu­nal pro­pri­etors. The em­per­or gave his sup­port to the lat­ter project, and the Rus­sian peas­antry ac­cord­ing­ly ac­quired rights and priv­ileges such as are en­joyed by no oth­er peas­antry in Eu­rope. In the nu­mer­ous oth­er ques­tions sub­mit­ted to him be{sic} be­gan by con­sult­ing care­ful­ly the con­flict­ing au­thor­ities, and while lean­ing as a rule rather to the side of those who were known as “Lib­er­als,” he nev­er went so far as they de­sired, and al­ways sought some mid­dle course by which con­flict­ing in­ter­ests might be rec­on­ciled. On the 3rd of March 1861, the sixth an­niver­sary of his ac­ces­sion, the eman­ci­pa­tion law was signed and pub­lished. Oth­er re­forms fol­lowed in quick suc­ces­sion dur­ing the next five or six years: army and navy or­ga­ni­za­tion, a new ju­di­cial ad­min­is­tra­tion on the French mod­el, a new pe­nal code and a great­ly sim­pli­fied sys­tem of civ­il and crim­inal pro­ce­dure, an elab­orate scheme of lo­cal self-​gov­ern­ment for the ru­ral dis­tricts and the large towns, with elec­tive as­semhljes pos­sess­ing a re­strict­ed right of tax­ation, and a new ru­ral and mu­nic­ipal po­lice un­der the di­rec­tion of the min­is­ter of the in­te­ri­or. These new in­sti­tu­tions were in­com­pa­ra­bly bet­ter than the old ones which they re­placed, but they did not work such mir­acles as in­ex­pe­ri­enced en­thu­si­asts ex­pect­ed. Com­par­isons were made, not with the past, but with an ide­al state of things which nev­er ex­ist­ed in Rus­sia or else­where. Hence arose a gen­er­al feel­ing of dis­ap­point­ment, which act­ed on dif­fer­ent na­tures in dif­fer­ent ways. Some of the en­thu­si­asts sank in­to a scep­ti­cal, re­ac­tionary frame of mind; while oth­ers, with deep­er con­vic­tions or ca­pa­ble of more last­ing ex­cite­ment, at­tribut­ed the fail­ure to the fact that on­ly half- mea­sures and com­pro­mis­es had been adopt­ed by the gov­ern­ment. Thus ap­peared in the ed­ucat­ed class­es two ex­treme groups: on the one hand, the dis­con­tent­ed Con­ser­va­tives, who rec­om­mend­ed a re­turn to a more se­vere dis­ci­plinar­ian regime; and on the oth­er, the dis­con­tent­ed Rad­icals, who would have been sat­is­fied with noth­ing less than the adop­tion of a through­go­ing so­cial­is­tic pro­gramme. Be­tween the two ex­tremes stood the dis­con­tent­ed Mod­er­ates, who in­dulged freely in grum­bling with­out know­ing how the un­sat­is­fac­to­ry state of things was to be reme­died. For some years the em­per­or, with his sound com­mon-​sense and dis­like of ex­ag­ger­ation, held the bal­ance fair­ly be­tween the two ex­tremes; but long years of un­in­ter­rupt­ed labour, anx­iety and dis­ap­point­ment weak­ened his zeal for re­form, and when rad­ical­ism as­sumed more and more the form of se­cret so­ci­eties and rev­olu­tion­ary ag­ita­tion, he felt con­strained to adopt se­vere re­pres­sive mea­sures.


The rev­olu­tion­ary ag­ita­tion was of a very pe­cu­liar kind. It was con­fined to a sec­tion of the ed­ucat­ed class­es, and em­anat­ed from the uni­ver­si­ties and high­er tech­ni­cal schools. At the be­gin­ning of the re­form pe­ri­od there had been en­thu­si­asm for sci­en­tif­ic as op­posed to clas­si­cal ed­uca­tion. Rus­sia re­quired, it was said, not clas­si­cal schol­ars, but prac­ti­cal, sci­en­tif­ic men, ca­pa­ble of de­vel­op­ing her nat­ural re­sources. The gov­ern­ment, in ac­cor­dance with this view, had en­cour­aged sci­en­tif­ic stud­ies un­til it dis­cov­ered to its as­ton­ish­ment that there was some mys­te­ri­ous con­nex­ion be­tween nat­ural sci­ence and rev­olu­tion­ary ten­den­cies. Many of the young men and wom­en, who were sup­posed to be qual­ify­ing as spe­cial­ists in the var­ious spheres of in­dus­tri­al and com­mer­cial en­ter­prise, were in re­al­ity de­vot­ing their time to con­sid­er­ing how hu­man so­ci­ety in gen­er­al, and Rus­sian so­ci­ety in par­tic­ular, could be re­con­struct­ed in ac­cor­dance with the lat­est phys­io­log­ical, bi­olog­ical and so­ci­olog­ical prin­ci­ples. Some of these young peo­ple wished to put their crude no­tions im­me­di­ate­ly in­to prac­tice, and as their de­sire to make gi­gan­tic so­cial­ist ex­per­iments nat­ural­ly alarmed the gov­ern­ment, their ac­tiv­ity was op­posed by the po­lice. Many of them were ar­rest­ed and im­pris­oned or ex­iled to dis­tant provinces, but the rev­olu­tion­ary work was con­tin­ued with un­abat­ed zeal. Thus arose a strug­gle be­tween the youth­ful, hot-​head­ed par­ti­sans of rev­olu­tion­ary phys­ical sci­ence and the zeal­ous of­fi­cial guardians of po­lit­ical or­der–a strug­gle which has made the strange term Ni­hilism (q.v.) a fa­mil­iar word not on­ly in Rus­sia but al­so in west­ern Eu­rope. The move­ment grad­ual­ly as­sumed the form of ter­ror­ism, and aimed at the as­sas­si­na­tion of promi­nent of­fi­cials, and even of the em­per­or him­self, and the nat­ural re­sult was that the re­ac­tionary ten­den­cies of the gov­ern­ment were strength­ened.

For­eign pol­icy.

In for­eign pol­icy Alexan­der II. showed the same qual­ities of char­ac­ter as in in­ter­nal af­fairs, ev­er try­ing pru­dent­ly to steer a mid­dle course. When he came to the throne a peace pol­icy was im­posed on him by cir­cum­stances. The Crimean War was still go­ing on, but as there was no doubt as to the fi­nal is­sue, and the coun­try was show­ing symp­toms of ex­haus­tion, he con­clud­ed peace with the al­lies as soon as he thought the na­tion­al hon­our had been sat­is­fied. Prince Gor­chakov could then de­clare to Eu­rope, “La Russie ne boude pas elle se re­cueille”; and for fif­teen years he avoid­ed for­eign com­pli­ca­tions, so that the in­ter­nal strength of the coun­try might be de­vel­oped, while the na­tion­al pride and am­bi­tion re­ceived a cer­tain sat­is­fac­tion by the ex­pan­sion of Rus­sian in­flu­ence and dom­ina­tion in Asia. Twice, in­deed, dur­ing that pe­ri­od the chan­cel­lor ran the risk of pro­vok­ing war. The first oc­ca­sion was in 1863, when the West­ern pow­ers seemed in­clined to in­ter­fere in the Pol­ish ques­tion, and the Rus­sian chancery de­clared cat­egor­ical­ly that no in­ter­fer­ence would be tol­er­at­ed. The sec­ond oc­ca­sion was dur­ing the Fran­co-​Ger­man War of 1870-71, when the cab­inet of St Pe­ters­burg bold­ly de­clared that it con­sid­ered it­self no longer bound by the Black Sea clause of the treaty of Paris. On both these oc­ca­sions hos­til­ities were avert­ed. Not so on the next oc­ca­sion, when Rus­sia aban­doned her at­ti­tude of re­cueille­ment. When the East­ern ques­tion was raised in 1875 by the in­sur­rec­tion of Herze­gov­ina, Alexan­der II. had no in­ten­tion or wish to pro­voke a great Eu­ro­pean war. No doubt he was wait­ing for an op­por­tu­ni­ty of re­cov­er­ing the por­tion of Bessara­bia which had been ced­ed by the treaty of Paris, and he per­ceived in the dis­turbed state of East­ern Eu­rope a pos­si­bil­ity of ob­tain­ing the de­sired rec­ti­fi­ca­tion of fron­tier, but he hoped to ef­fect his pur­pose by diplo­mat­ic means in con­junc­tion with Aus­tria. At the same time he was anx­ious to ob­tain for the Chris­tians of Turkey some ame­lio­ra­tion of their con­di­tion, and to give there­by some sat­is­fac­tion to his own sub­jects. As au­to­crat­ic ruler of the na­tion which had long con­sid­ered it­self the de­fend­er of the East­ern Or­tho­dox faith and the pro­tec­tor of the Slav na­tion­al­ities, he could not re­main in­ac­tive at such a cri­sis, and he grad­ual­ly al­lowed him­self to drift in­to a po­si­tion from which he could not re­treat with­out ob­tain­ing some tan­gi­ble re­sult. Sup­pos­ing that the Porte would yield to diplo­mat­ic pres­sure and men­ace so far as to make some rea­son­able con­ces­sions, he de­liv­ered his fa­mous Moscow speech, in which he de­clared that if Eu­rope would not se­cure a bet­ter po­si­tion for the op­pressed Slavs he would act alone. The diplo­mat­ic pres­sure failed and war be­came in­evitable. Dur­ing the cam­paign he dis­played the same per­se­ver­ance and the same mod­er­ation that he had shown in the eman­ci­pa­tion of the serfs. To those who be­gan to de­spair of suc­cess, and ad­vised him to con­clude peace on al­most any terms so as to avoid greater dis­as­ters, he turned a deaf ear, and brought the cam­paign to a suc­cess­ful con­clu­sion; but when his more head­strong ad­vis­ers urged him to in­sist on terms which would prob­ably have pro­duced a con­flict with Great Britain and Aus­tria, he re­solved, af­ter some hes­ita­tion, to make the req­ui­site con­ces­sions. In this res­olu­tion he was in­flu­enced by the dis­cov­ery that he could not re­ly on the ex­pect­ed sup­port of Ger­many, and the dis­cov­ery made him wa­ver in his de­vo­tion to the Ger­man al­liance, which had been the main piv­ot of his for­eign pol­icy; but his per­son­al at­tach­ment to the em­per­or William pre­vent­ed him from adopt­ing a hos­tile at­ti­tude to­wards the em­pire he had helped to cre­ate.

The pa­tri­ot­ic ex­cite­ment pro­duced by the war did not weak­en the rev­olu­tion­ary ag­ita­tion. The strug­gle be­tween the Ter­ror­ists and the po­lice au­thor­ities be­came more and more in­tense, and at­tempts at as­sas­si­na­tion be­came more and more fre­quent. Alexan­der II. suc­cumbed by de­grees to the men­tal de­pres­sion pro­duced orig­inal­ly by the dis­ap­point­ments which he ex­pe­ri­enced in his home and for­eign pol­icy; and in 1880, when he had reigned twen­ty-​five years, he en­trust­ed to Count Loris-​Me­likov a large share of the ex­ec­utive pow­er. In that year the em­press died, and a few weeks af­ter­wards he mar­ried se­cret­ly a Princess Dol­go­ru­ki, with whom he had al­ready en­ter­tained in­ti­mate re­la­tions for some years. Ear­ly in 1881, on the ad­vice of Count Loris-​Me­likov, he de­ter­mined to try the ef­fect of some mod­er­ate lib­er­al re­forms on the rev­olu­tion­ary ag­ita­tion, and for this pur­pose he caused a ukaz to be pre­pared cre­at­ing spe­cial com­mis­sions, com­posed of high of­fi­cials and pri­vate per­son­ages who should pre­pare re­forms in var­ious branch­es of the ad­min­is­tra­tion. On the very day on which this ukaz was signed–13th of March 1881–he fell a vic­tim to a Ni­hilist plot. When driv­ing in one of the cen­tral streets of St Pe­ters­burg, near the Win­ter Palace, he was mor­tal­ly wound­ed by the ex­plo­sion of some small bombs and died a few hours af­ter­wards. (D. M. W.)

ALEXAN­DER III. (1845-1894), em­per­or of Rus­sia, sec­ond son of Alexan­der II., was born on the 10th of March 1845. In nat­ural dis­po­si­tion he bore lit­tle re­sem­blance to his soft-​heart­ed, lib­er­al mind­ed fa­ther, and still less to his re­fined, philo­soph­ic, sen­ti­men­tal, chival­rous, yet cun­ning grand-​un­cle Alexan­der I., who cov­et­ed the ti­tle of “the first gen­tle­man of Eu­rope.” With high cul­ture, exquisite re­fine­ment and stud­ied el­egance he had no sym­pa­thy and nev­er af­fect­ed to have any. In­deed, he rather glo­ried in the idea of be­ing of the same rough tex­ture as the great ma­jor­ity of his sub­jects. His straight­for­ward, abrupt man­ner savoured some­times of gruff­ness, while his di­rect, un­adorned method of ex­press­ing him­self har­mo­nized well with his rough-​hewn, im­mo­bile fea­tures and some­what slug­gish move­ments. His ed­uca­tion was not fit­ted to soft­en these pe­cu­liar­ities. Dur­ing the first twen­ty years of his life he had no prospect of suc­ceed­ing to the throne, be­cause he had an el­der broth­er, Nicholas, who seemed of a fair­ly ro­bust con­sti­tu­tion. Even when this el­der broth­er showed symp­toms of del­icate health it was be­lieved that his life might be in­def­inite­ly pro­longed by prop­er care and at­ten­tion, and pre­cau­tions had been tak­en for the suc­ces­sion by his be­trothal with Princess Dag­mar of Den­mark. Un­der these cir­cum­stances the great­est so­lic­itude was de­vot­ed to the ed­uca­tion of Nicholas as ce­sare­vich, where­as Alexan­der re­ceived on­ly the per­func­to­ry and in­ad­equate train­ing of an or­di­nary grand- duke of that pe­ri­od, which did not go much be­yond pri­ma­ry and sec­ondary in­struc­tion, prac­ti­cal ac­quain­tance with French, En­glish and Ger­man, and a cer­tain amount of drill. When he be­came heir-​ap­par­ent by the death of his el­der broth­er in 1865, he be­gan to study the prin­ci­ples of law and ad­min­is­tra­tion un­der Pro­fes­sor Pobedonos­tsef, who did not suc­ceed in awak­en­ing in his pupil a love of ab­stract stud­ies or pro­longed in­tel­lec­tu­al ex­er­tion, but who in­flu­enced the char­ac­ter of his reign by in­still­ing in­to his mind the be­lief that zeal for East­ern Or­tho­doxy ought, as an es­sen­tial fac­tor of Rus­sian pa­tri­otism, to be spe­cial­ly cul­ti­vat­ed by ev­ery right-​mind­ed tsar. His el­der broth­er when on his deathbed had ex­pressed a wish that his af­fi­anced bride, Princess Dag­mar of Den­mark, should mar­ry his suc­ces­sor, and this wish was re­al­ized on the 9th of Novem­ber 1866. The union proved a most hap­py one and re­mained un­cloud­ed to the end. Dur­ing those years when he was heir-​ap­par­ent–1865 to 1881–he did not play a promi­nent part in pub­lic af­fairs, but he al­lowed it to be­come known that he had cer­tain ideas of his own which did not co­in­cide with the prin­ci­ples of the ex­ist­ing gov­ern­ment. He dep­re­cat­ed what he con­sid­ered un­due for­eign in­flu­ence in gen­er­al, and Ger­man in­flu­ence in par­tic­ular, and he longed to see the adop­tion of gen­uine na­tion­al prin­ci­ples in all spheres of of­fi­cial ac­tiv­ity, with a view to re­al­iz­ing his ide­al of a ho­mo­ge­neous Rus­sia–ho­mo­ge­neous in lan­guage, ad­min­is­tra­tion and re­li­gion. With such ideas and as­pi­ra­tions he could hard­ly re­main per­ma­nent­ly in cor­dial agree­ment with his fa­ther, who, though a good pa­tri­ot ac­cord­ing to his lights, had strong Ger­man sym­pa­thies, of­ten used the Ger­man lan­guage in his pri­vate re­la­tions, oc­ca­sion­al­ly ridiculed the ex­ag­ger­ations and ec­cen­tric­ities of the Slavophils and based his for­eign pol­icy on the Prus­sian al­liance. The an­tag­onism first ap­peared pub­licly dur­ing the Fran­co-​Ger­man War, when the tsar sup­port­ed the cab­inet of Berlin and the ce­sare­vich did not con­ceal his sym­pa­thies with the French. It reap­peared in an in­ter­mit­tent fash­ion dur­ing the years 1875-1879, when the East­ern ques­tion pro­duced so much ex­cite­ment in all ranks of Rus­sian so­ci­ety. At first the ce­sare­vich was more Slavophil than the gov­ern­ment, but his phleg­mat­ic na­ture pre­served him from many of the ex­ag­ger­ations in­dulged in by oth­ers, and any of the preva­lent pop­ular il­lu­sions he may have im­bibed were soon dis­pelled by per­son­al ob­ser­va­tion in Bul­gar­ia, where he com­mand­ed the left wing of the in­vad­ing army. The Bul­gar­ians had been rep­re­sent­ed in St Pe­ters­burg and Moscow not on­ly as mar­tyrs but al­so as saints, and a very lit­tle per­son­al ex­pe­ri­ence suf­ficed to cor­rect the er­ror. Like most of his broth­er of­fi­cers he could not feel any very great af­fec­tion for the “lit­tle broth­ers,” as the Bul­gar­ians were then com­mon­ly called, and he was con­strained to ad­mit that the Turks were by no means so black as they had been paint­ed. He did not, how­ev­er, scan­dal­ize the be­liev­ers by any pub­lic ex­pres­sion of his opin­ions, and did not in­deed make him­self con­spic­uous in any way dur­ing the cam­paign. Nev­er con­sult­ed on po­lit­ical ques­tions, he con­fined him­self to his mil­itary du­ties and ful­filled them in a con­sci­en­tious and un­ob­tru­sive man­ner. Af­ter many mis­takes and dis­ap­point­ments, the army reached Con­stantino­ple and the treaty of San Ste­fano was signed, but much that had been ob­tained by that im­por­tant doc­ument had to be sac­ri­ficed at the congress of Berlin. Prince Bis­mar­ck failed to do what was con­fi­dent­ly ex­pect­ed of him. In re­turn for the Rus­sian sup­port, which had en­abled him to cre­ate the Ger­man em­pire, it was thought that he would help Rus­sia to solve the East­ern ques­tion in ac­cor­dance with her own in­ter­ests, but to the sur­prise and in­dig­na­tion of the cab­inet of St Pe­ters­burg he con­fined him­self to act­ing the part of “hon­est bro­ker” at the congress, and short­ly af­ter­wards he os­ten­ta­tious­ly con­tract­ed an al­liance with Aus­tria for the ex­press pur­pose of coun­ter­act­ing Rus­sian de­signs in East­ern Eu­rope. The ce­sare­vich could point to these re­sults as con­firm­ing the views he had ex­pressed dur­ing the Fran­co-​Ger­man War, and he drew from them the prac­ti­cal con­clu­sion that for Rus­sia the best thing to do was to re­cov­er as quick­ly as pos­si­ble from her tem­po­rary ex­haus­tion and to pre­pare for fu­ture con­tin­gen­cies by a rad­ical scheme of mil­itary and naval re­or­ga­ni­za­tion. In ac­cor­dance with this con­vic­tion, he sug­gest­ed that cer­tain re­forms should be in­tro­duced. Dur­ing the cam­paign in Bul­gar­ia he had found by painful ex­pe­ri­ence that grave dis­or­ders and gross cor­rup­tion ex­ist­ed in the mil­itary ad­min­is­tra­tion, and af­ter his re­turn to St Pe­ters­burg he had dis­cov­ered that sim­ilar abus­es ex­ist­ed in the naval de­part­ment. For these abus­es, sev­er­al high-​placed per­son­ages–among oth­ers two of the grand-​dukes– were be­lieved to be re­spon­si­ble, and he called his fa­ther’s at­ten­tion to the sub­ject. His rep­re­sen­ta­tions were not favourably re­ceived. Alexan­der II. had lost much of the re­form­ing zeal which dis­tin­guished the first decade of his reign, and had no longer the en­er­gy re­quired to un­der­take the task sug­gest­ed to him. The con­se­quence was that the re­la­tions be­tween fa­ther and son be­came more strained. The lat­ter must have felt that there would be no im­por­tant re­forms un­til he him­self suc­ceed­ed to the di­rec­tion of af­fairs. That change was much near­er at hand than was com­mon­ly sup­posed. On the 13th of March 1881 Alexan­der II. was as­sas­si­nat­ed by a band of Ni­hilists, and the au­to­crat­ic pow­er passed to the hands of his son.

In the last years of his reign, Alexan­der II. had been much ex­er­cised by the spread of Ni­hilist doc­trines and the in­creas­ing num­ber of an­ar­chist con­spir­acies, and for some time he had hes­itat­ed be­tween strength­en­ing the hands of the ex­ec­utive and mak­ing con­ces­sions to the widespread po­lit­ical as­pi­ra­tions of the ed­ucat­ed class­es. Fi­nal­ly he de­cid­ed in favour of the lat­ter course, and on the very day of his death he signed a ukaz, cre­at­ing a num­ber of con­sul­ta­tive com­mis­sions which might have been eas­ily trans­formed in­to an as­sem­bly of no­ta­bles. Alexan­der III. de­ter­mined to adopt the op­po­site pol­icy. He at once can­celled the ukaz be­fore it was pub­lished, and in the man­ifesto an­nounc­ing his ac­ces­sion to the throne he let it be very clear­ly un­der­stood that he had no in­ten­tion of lim­it­ing or weak­en­ing the au­to­crat­ic pow­er which he had in­her­it­ed from his an­ces­tors. Nor did he af­ter­wards show any in­cli­na­tion to change his mind. All the in­ter­nal re­forms which he ini­ti­at­ed were in­tend­ed to cor­rect what he con­sid­ered as the too lib­er­al ten­den­cies of the pre­vi­ous reign, so that he left be­hind him the rep­uta­tion of a sovereign of the ret­ro­grade type. In his opin­ion Rus­sia was to be saved from an­ar­chi­cal dis­or­ders and rev­olu­tion­ary ag­ita­tion, not by the par­lia­men­tary in­sti­tu­tions and so-​called lib­er­al­ism of west­ern Eu­rope, but by the three prin­ci­ples which the el­der gen­er­ation of the Slavophils sys­tem­at­ical­ly rec­om­mend­ed–na­tion­al­ity, East­ern Or­tho­doxy and au­toc­ra­cy. His po­lit­ical ide­al was a na­tion con­tain­ing on­ly one na­tion­al­ity, one lan­guage, one re­li­gion and one form of ad­min­is­tra­tion; and he did his ut­most to pre­pare for the re­al­iza­tion of this ide­al by im­pos­ing the Rus­sian lan­guage and Rus­sian schools on his Ger­man, Pol­ish and Finnish sub­jects, by fos­ter­ing East­ern Or­tho­doxy at the ex­pense of oth­er con­fes­sions, by per­se­cut­ing the Jews and by de­stroy­ing the rem­nants of Ger­man, Pol­ish and Swedish in­sti­tu­tions in the out­ly­ing provinces. In the oth­er provinces he sought to coun­ter­act what he con­sid­ered the ex­ces­sive lib­er­al­ism of his fa­ther’s reign. For this pur­pose he clipped the fee­ble wings of the zem­st­vo, an elec­tive lo­cal ad­min­is­tra­tion re­sem­bling the coun­ty and parish coun­cils in Eng­land, and placed the au­tonomous ad­min­is­tra­tion of the peas­ant com­munes un­der the su­per­vi­sion of land­ed pro­pri­etors ap­point­ed by the gov­ern­ment. At the same time he sought to strength­en and cen­tral­ize the im­pe­ri­al ad­min­is­tra­tion, and to bring it more un­der his per­son­al con­trol. In for­eign af­fairs he was em­phat­ical­ly a man of peace, but not at all a par­ti­san of the docr­rine of peace at any price, and he fol­lowed the prin­ci­ple that the best means of avert­ing war is to be well pre­pared for it. Though in­dig­nant at the con­duct of Prince Bis­mar­ck to­wards Rus­sia, he avoid­ed an open rup­ture with Ger­many, and even re­vived for a time the Three Em­per­ors’ Al­liance. It was on­ly in the last years of his reign, when M. Katkov had ac­quired a cer­tain in­flu­ence over him, that he adopt­ed to­wards the cab­inet of Berlin a more hos­tile at­ti­tude, and even then he con­fined him­self to keep­ing a large quan­ti­ty of troops near the Ger­man fron­tier, and es­tab­lish­ing cor­dial re­la­tions with France. With re­gard to Bul­gar­ia he ex­er­cised sim­ilar self-​con­trol. The ef­forts of Prince Alexan­der and af­ter­wards of Stam­boloff to de­stroy Rus­sian in­flu­ence in the prin­ci­pal­ity ex­cit­ed his in­dig­na­tion, but he per­sis­tent­ly ve­toed all pro­pos­als to in­ter­vene by force of arms. In Cen­tral Asian af­fairs he fol­lowed the tra­di­tion­al pol­icy of grad­ual­ly ex­tend­ing Rus­sian dom­ina­tion with­out pro­vok­ing a con­flict with Great Britain, and he nev­er al­lowed the bel­li­cose par­ti­sans of a for­ward pol­icy to get out of hand. As a whole his reign can­not be re­gard­ed as one of the event­ful pe­ri­ods of Rus­sian his­to­ry; but it must be ad­mit­ted that un­der his hard un­sym­pa­thet­ic rule the coun­try made con­sid­er­able progress. He died at Li­va­dia on the 1st of Novem­ber 1894, and was suc­ceed­ed by his el­dest son, Nicholas II. (D. M. W.)

ALEXAN­DER I. (c. 1078-1124), king of Scot­land, was the fourth son of Mal­colm Can­more by his wife (St) Mar­garet, grand-​niece of Ed­ward the Con­fes­sor. On the death of his broth­er Edgar in 1107 he suc­ceed­ed to the Scot­tish crown; but, in ac­cor­dance with Edgar’s in­struc­tions, he in­her­it­ed on­ly a part of its pos­ses­sions. By a par­ti­tion, the mo­tive of which is not quite cer­tain, the dis­tricts south of the Forth and Clyde were erect­ed in­to an earl­dom for Alexan­der’s younger broth­er, David. Alexan­der, dis­sat­is­fied, sought to ob­tain the whole, but with­out suc­cess. A cu­ri­ous com­bi­na­tion of the fierce war­rior and the pi­ous church­man, he man­ifest­ed the one as­pect of his char­ac­ter in his ruth­less sup­pres­sion of an in­sur­rec­tion in his north­ern do­min­ion (thus gain­ing for him­self the ti­tle of “the Fierce”), the oth­er in his mu­nif­icent foun­da­tion of bish­oprics and abbeys. Among the lat­ter were those of Scone and Inch­colm. His strong cham­pi­onship of the in­de­pen­dence of the Scot­tish church in­volved him in strug­gles with both the En­glish metropoli­tan sees. He died on the 27th of April 1124, and was suc­ceed­ed by his broth­er, David I.

ALEXAN­DER II. (1198-1249), king of Scot­land, son of William the Li­on and Er­men­garde of Beau­mont, was born at Hadding­ton in 1198, and suc­ceed­ed to the king­dom on the death of his fa­ther in 1214. The year af­ter his ac­ces­sion the clans MacWilliam and Ma­cHeth, in­vet­er­ate en­emies of the Scot­tish crown, broke in­to re­volt; but the in­sur­rec­tion was speed­ily quelled. In the same year Alexan­der joined the En­glish barons in their strug­gle against John, and led an army in­to Eng­land in sup­port of their cause; but on the con­clu­sion of peace af­ter John’s death be­tween his youth­ful son Hen­ry III. and the French prince Louis, the Scot­tish king was in­clud­ed in the paci­fi­ca­tion. The rec­on­cil­ia­tion thus ef­fect­ed was fur­ther strength­ened by the mar­riage of Alexan­der to Hen­ry’s sis­ter Joan­na in 1221. The next year was marked by the sub­jec­tion of the hith­er­to se­mi-​in­de­pen­dent dis­trict of Ar­gyll. A re­volt in Gal­loway in 1235 was crushed with­out dif­fi­cul­ty; nor did an in­va­sion at­tempt­ed soon af­ter­wards by its ex­iled lead­ers meet with any bet­ter for­tune. Soon af­ter­wards a claim for homage from Hen­ry of Eng­land drew forth from Alexan­der a counter-​claim to the north­ern En­glish coun­ties. The dis­pute, how­ev­er, was set­tled by a com­pro­mise in 1237. A threat of in­va­sion by Hen­ry in 1243 for a time in­ter­rupt­ed the friend­ly re­la­tions be­tween the two coun­tries; but the prompt ac­tion of Alexan­der in an­tic­ipat­ing his at­tack, and the dis­in­cli­na­tion of the En­glish barons for war, com­pelled him to make peace next year at New­cas­tle. Alexan­der now turned his at­ten­tion to se­cur­ing the West­ern Isles, which still owned a nom­inal de­pen­dence on Nor­way. Ne­go­ti­ations and pur­chase were suc­ces­sive­ly tried but with­out suc­cess. Alexan­der next at­tempt­ed to se­duce Ewen, the son of Dun­can, lord of Ar­gyll, from his al­le­giance to the Nor­we­gian king. Ewen re­fused his over­tures, and Alexan­der sailed forth to com­pel him. But on the way he was seized with fever at Ker­rera, and died there on the 8th of Ju­ly 1249.

ALEXAN­DER III. (1241-1285), king of Scot­land, son of Alexan­der II. by his sec­ond wife Mary de Coucy, was born in 1241. At the age of eight years the death of his fa­ther called him to the throne. The years of his mi­nor­ity were marked by an em­bit­tered strug­gle for the con­trol of af­fairs be­tween two ri­val par­ties, the one led by Wal­ter Comyn, earl of Mentei­th, the oth­er by Alan Dur­ward, the jus­ti­ciar. The for­mer was in the as­cen­dant dur­ing the ear­ly years of the reign. At the mar­riage of Alexan­der to Mar­garet of Eng­land in 1251, Hen­ry III. seized the op­por­tu­ni­ty to de­mand from his son-​in-​law homage for the Scot­tish king­dom, but the claim was re­fused. In 1255 an in­ter­view be­tween the En­glish and Scot­tish kings at Kel­so re­sult­ed in the de­po­si­tion of Mentei­th and his par­ty in favour of their op­po­nents. But though dis­graced, they still re­tained great in­flu­ence; and two years lat­er, seiz­ing the per­son of the king, they com­pelled their ri­vals to con­sent to the erec­tion of a re­gen­cy rep­re­sen­ta­tive of both par­ties. On at­tain­ing his ma­jor­ity in 1262, Alexan­der de­clared his in­ten­tion of re­sum­ing the projects on the West­ern Isles which had been cut short by the death of his fa­ther thir­teen years be­fore. A for­mal claim was laid be­fore the Nor­we­gian king Haakon. Not on­ly was this un­suc­cess­ful, but next year Haakon replied by a formidable in­va­sion. Sail­ing round the west coast of Scot­land he halt­ed off Ar­ran, where ne­go­ti­ations were opened. These were art­ful­ly pro­longed by Alexan­der un­til the au­tumn storms should be­gin. At length Haakon, weary of de­lay, at­tacked, on­ly to en­counter a ter­rif­ic storm which great­ly dam­aged his ships. The bat­tle of Largs, fought next day, was in­de­ci­sive. But even so Haakon’s po­si­tion was hope­less. Baf­fled he turned home­wards, but died on the way. The Isles now lay at Alexan­der’s feet, and in 1266 Haakon’s suc­ces­sor con­clud­ed a treaty by which the Isle of Man and the West­ern Isles were ced­ed to Scot­land in re­turn for a mon­ey pay­ment, Orkney and Shet­land alone be­ing re­tained. To­wards the end of Alexan­der’s reign, the death of all his three chil­dren with­in a few years made the ques­tion of the suc­ces­sion one of press­ing im­por­tance. In 1284 he in­duced the Es­tates to rec­og­nize as his heir-​pre­sump­tive his grand-​daugh­ter Mar­garet, the “Maid of Nor­way”; and next year the de­sire for a male heir led him to con­tract a sec­ond mar­riage. But all such hopes were de­feat­ed by the sud­den death of the king, who was killed by a fall from his horse in the dark while rid­ing to vis­it the queen at Kinghorn on the 16th of March 1285.

ALEXAN­DER (ALEXAN­DER OBREN­OVICH) (1876-1903), king of Servia, was born on the 14th of Au­gust 1876. On the 6th of March 1889 his fa­ther, King Mi­lan, ab­di­cat­ed and pro­claimed him king of Servia un­der a re­gen­cy un­til he should at­tain his ma­jor­ity at eigh­teen years of age. King Alexan­der, on the 13th of April 1893, be­ing then in his sev­en­teenth year, made his no­table first coup d’etat, pro­claimed him­self of full age, dis­missed the re­gents and their gov­ern­ment, and took the roy­al au­thor­ity in­to his own hands. His ac­tion was pop­ular, and was ren­dered still more so by his ap­point­ment of a rad­ical min­istry. In May 1894 King Alexan­der, by an­oth­er coup d’etat, abol­ished the lib­er­al con­sti­tu­tion of 1889 and re­stored the con­ser­va­tive one of 1869. His at­ti­tude dur­ing the Tur­co-​Greek war of 1897 was one of strict neu­tral­ity. In 1898 he ap­point­ed his fa­ther com­man­der-​in-​chief of the Ser­vian army, and from that time, or rather from his re­turn to Servia in 1894 un­til 1900, ex-​king Mi­lan was re­gard­ed as the de fac­to ruler of the coun­try. But while, dur­ing the sum­mer of 1900, Mi­lan was away from Servia tak­ing wa­ters in Carls­bad, and mak­ing ar­range­ments to se­cure the hand of a Ger­man princess for his son, and while the pre­mier, Dr Vladan Dy­ore­vich, was vis­it­ing the Paris Uni­ver­sal Ex­hi­bi­tion, King Alexan­der sud­den­ly an­nounced to the peo­ple of Servia his en­gage­ment to Mme Dra­ga Mashin, a wid­ow, for­mer­ly a la­dy-​in-​wait­ing to Queen Na­tal­ie. The pro­ject­ed union aroused great op­po­si­tion at first. Ex-​King Mi­lan re­signed his post; so did the gov­ern­ment; and King Alexan­der had great dif­fi­cul­ty in form­ing a new cab­inet. But the op­po­si­tion sub­sid­ed some­what on the pub­li­ca­tion of Tsar Nicholas’s con­grat­ula­tions to the king on his en­gage­ment and of his ac­cep­tance to act as the prin­ci­pal wit­ness at the wed­ding. The mar­riage was then du­ly cel­ebrat­ed on the 5th of Au­gust 1900. Still this union was un­pop­ular and weak­ened the po­si­tion of King Alexan­der in the army and the coun­try. He tried to rec­on­cile po­lit­ical par­ties by grant­ing from his own ini­tia­tive a lib­er­al con­sti­tu­tion (April 6, 1901), in­tro­duc­ing for the first time in the con­sti­tu­tion­al his­to­ry of Servia the sys­tem of two cham­bers (skup­shti­na and sen­ate). This did in a cer­tain mea­sure rec­on­cile the po­lit­ical par­ties, but did not rec­on­cile the army, which, al­ready dis­sat­is­fied with the king’s mar­riage, be­came still more so at the ru­mours that one of the two un­pop­ular broth­ers of Queen Dra­ga, Lieu­tenant Nicodiye, was to be pro­claimed heir- ap­par­ent to the throne. Mean­while the in­de­pen­dence of the sen­ate and of the coun­cil of state caused grow­ing ir­ri­ta­tion to King Alexan­der, which led him to an­oth­er coup d’etat. He sus­pend­ed (March 1903) the con­sti­tu­tion for half an hour, time enough to pub­lish the de­crees by which the old sen­ators and coun­cil­lors of state were dis­missed and re­placed by new ones. This ar­bi­trary act nat­ural­ly in­creased the dis­sat­is­fac­tion in the coun­try. The gen­er­al im­pres­sion was that inas­much as the sen­ate was packed with men de­vot­ed to the roy­al cou­ple, and inas­much as the gov­ern­ment ob­tained a large ma­jor­ity at the gen­er­al elec­tions, King Alexan­der would not hes­itate any longer to pro­claim Queen Dra­ga’s broth­er as the heir to the throne. Ap­par­ent­ly to pre­vent this, but in re­al­ity to re­place Alexan­der Obren­ovich by Pe­ter Kara­georgevich, a mil­itary con­spir­acy was or­ga­nized. The con­spir­ators pen­etrat­ed in­to the palace and sav­age­ly mur­dered King Alexan­der and Queen Dra­ga in the ear­ly morn­ing of the 11th of June 1903. (C. MI.)

ALEXAN­DER, son of Nu­me­nius, Greek rhetori­cian, flour­ished in the first half of the sec­ond cen­tu­ry A.D. In ad­di­tion to gen­er­al trea­tis­es on rhetoric, he wrote a spe­cial work Peri ton tes di­anoias kai tes lex­eos schema­ton, of which on­ly an abridg­ment is ex­tant; lat­er epit­omes were made in Latin by Aquila Ro­manus and Julius Rufini­anus un­der the ti­tle De Fig­uris Sen­ten­tiarum et Elo­cu­tio­nis. An­oth­er epit­ome was made in the fourth cen­tu­ry by a Chris­tian for use in Chris­tian schools, con­tain­ing ad­di­tion­al ex­am­ples from Gre­go­ry of Nazianzus.

Text in Spen­gel, Rhetores Grae­ci (1856).

ALEXAN­DER, ARCHIBALD (1772-1851), Amer­ican Pres­by­te­ri­an di­vine, was born, of Scot­tish-​Irish de­scent, in that part of Au­gus­ta coun­ty which is now Rock­bridge coun­ty, Vir­ginia, on the 17th of April 1772. Af­ter com­plet­ing his pre­lim­inary ed­uca­tion in the lit­tle school at Lex­ing­ton, Vir­ginia, which lat­er de­vel­oped in­to Wash­ing­ton and Lee Uni­ver­si­ty, he came un­der the in­flu­ence of the re­li­gious move­ment known as the “great re­vival” (1789-1790) and de­vot­ed him­self to the study of the­ol­ogy. Li­censed to preach in 1791, he was en­gaged for sev­er­al years as an itin­er­ant Pres­by­te­ri­an preach­er in his na­tive state, and ac­quired dur­ing this pe­ri­od the fa­cil­ity in ex­tem­po­ra­ne­ous speak­ing for which he was re­mark­able. He was pres­ident of Ham­pden-​Sid­ney Col­lege from 1796 to 1807, with a short in­ter­mis­sion (in 1801-1802), and in 1807 be­came pas­tor of Pine Street Church, Philadel­phia. In 1812 he be­came first pro­fes­sor in the new­ly es­tab­lished Pres­by­te­ri­an The­olog­ical Sem­inary at Prince­ton, New Jer­sey, where he re­mained un­til his death at Prince­ton on the 22nd of Oc­to­ber 1851, fill­ing suc­ces­sive­ly the chairs of di­dac­tic and polemic the­ol­ogy (1812-1840), and pas­toral and polemic the­ol­ogy (1840-1851). He mar­ried, in 1802, Janet­ta Wad­del, the daugh­ter of the cel­ebrat­ed blind preach­er, James Wad­del (1739-1805), whose elo­quence was de­scribed in William Wirt’s Let­ters of a British Spy (1803). Dr Alexan­der wrote a con­sid­er­able num­ber of the­olog­ical works, which had a large cir­cu­la­tion. Among these may be men­tioned his Brief Out­line of the Ev­idences of the Chris­tian Re­li­gion (1825), which passed through sev­er­al edi­tions, and was trans­lat­ed in­to var­ious lan­guages; The Canon of the Old and New Tes­ta­ment As­cer­tained; or the Bible Com­plete with­out the Apoc­rypha and Un­writ­ten Tra­di­tions (1826); A His­to­ry of the Is­raeli­tish Na­tion (1852), and Out­lines of Moral Sci­ence (1852), the last two be­ing pub­lished posthu­mous­ly.

See the bi­og­ra­phy (New York, 1854) by his son James W. Alexan­der.

ALEXAN­DER, FRAN­CIS (1800-1881), Amer­ican por­trait- painter, was born in Wind­ham coun­ty, Con­necti­cut, in Febru­ary 1800. Brought up on a farm, he taught him­self the use of colours, and in 1820 went to New York City and stud­ied paint­ing with Alexan­der Robert­son. He spent the win­ters of 1831 and 1832 in Rome, and then for near­ly a decade he lived in Boston, Mas­sachusetts, where he had con­sid­er­able vogue, and where in 1842 he paint­ed a por­trait of Charles Dick­ens. One of his best por­traits is that of Mrs Fletch­er Web­ster in the Boston Mu­se­um of Fine Arts. He died in 1881 in Flo­rence.

ALEXAN­DER, GEORGE (1858- ), En­glish ac­tor, whose fam­ily name was Sam­son, was born in Read­ing on the 19th of June 1858, the son of a Scot­tish man­ufac­tur­er. He went in­to busi­ness in Lon­don af­ter leav­ing school, but hav­ing act­ed as an am­ateur he de­ter­mined to make the stage his pro­fes­sion. His first ap­pear­ance was at Not­ting­ham in 1879, and af­ter some sea­sons of provin­cial ex­pe­ri­ence he made his first Lon­don ap­pear­ance as Caleb Deecie in Two Ros­es in 1881 with Irv­ing at the Lyceum. He was se­lect­ed by W. S. Gilbert to sup­port Mary An­der­son in Com­edy and Tragedy, re­turned for a time to the Lyceum, where he was Irv­ing’s prin­ci­pal as­so­ciate, es­pe­cial­ly as Faust (1886) and Mac­duff (1888); and, af­ter start­ing suc­cess­ful­ly un­der his own man­age­ment at the Av­enue The­atre in 1890 with Dr Bill, in 1891 be­came man­ag­er of the St James’s The­atre. There he pro­duced a num­ber of suc­cess­ful plays, no­tably Os­car Wilde’s La­dy Win­der­mere’s Fan and The Im­por­tance of be­ing Earnest, Pinero’s Sec­ond Mrs Tan­quer­ay, The Princess and the But­ter­fiy, His House in Or­der and The Thun­der­bolt; C. Had­don Cham­bers’s The Idler; H. A. Jones’s Mas­quer­aders; Al­fred Sutro’s John Glayde’s Hon­our and The Builder of Bridges; Car­ton’s Lib­er­ty Hall and The Tree of Knowl­edge; An­tho­ny Hope’s Pris­on­er of Zen­da and Ru­pert of Hentzau; and Stephen Phillips’s Pao­lo and Francesca, him­self play­ing the lead­ing parts with great dis­tinc­tion. In 1907 he was elect­ed a mem­ber of the Lon­don Coun­ty Coun­cil as a mu­nic­ipal re­former, but con­tin­ued to act reg­ular­ly at the St James’s.

ALEXAN­DER, SIR JAMES ED­WARD (1803-1885), British sol­dier and trav­eller, was born on the 16th of Oc­to­ber 1803. He joined the East In­dia Com­pa­ny’s army in 1820, trans­fer­ring in­to the British army in 1825. As aide-​de-​camp to the British en­voy to Per­sia, he was an eye-​wit­ness of the fight­ing in the war be­tween Per­sia and Rus­sia (1826), and in 1829 was present in the Balka­ns dur­ing the Rus­so-​Turk­ish war. In 1832-1834 he was in Por­tu­gal dur­ing the Miguelete war, and in 1835 served in the Kaf­fir war in South Africa as aide-​de-​camp to Sir Ben­jamin D’Ur­ban. Sub­se­quent­ly he con­duct­ed an ex­plor­ing ex­pe­di­tion in­to Na­maqua­land and Dama­ra­land, and was knight­ed for his ser­vices (1838). From 1841 to 1855 he served in Cana­da, pro­ceed­ing thence to the Crimea, and in 1862 held an im­por­tant com­mand in New Zealand dur­ing the Maori war. He re­tired from the ser­vice in 1877, and in 1881 was giv­en the hon­orary rank of gen­er­al. He was large­ly re­spon­si­ble for the preser­va­tion and trans­fer to Eng­land of Cleopa­tra’s Nee­dle in 1877. His var­ied ex­pe­ri­ences pro­vid­ed ma­te­ri­al for a large num­ber of books, among which were Trav­els from In­dia to Eng­land (1827); Transat­lantic Sketch­es (1833); An Ex­pe­di­tion of Dis­cov­ery in­to the In­te­ri­or of Africa (1838); Pas­sages in the Life of a Sol­dier (1857); In­ci­dents of the Maori War (1863). He was al­so the au­thor of a Life of Field-​Mar­shal the Duke of Welling­ton (1840). He died on the 2nd of April 1885.

ALEXAN­DER, JOHN WHITE (1856- ), Amer­ican painter, was born in Al­leghe­ny, Penn­syl­va­nia, on the 7th of Oc­to­ber 1836. He was left an or­phan when very young, be­came an il­lus­tra­tor for Harp­er’s Mag­azine, stud­ied in Eu­rope, be­came a pupil of the Roy­al Acade­my at Mu­nich, and al­so worked in Venice, in Hol­land and in Paris, where he at­tract­ed much at­ten­tion by his ex­hi­bi­tion at the Sa­lon of two fe­male por­traits en­ti­tled “Gris” and “Noir.” He be­came a mem­ber of the So­ci­ete Na­tionale des Beaux Arts (Paris), of the Na­tion­al Acade­my of De­sign (New York), of the In­ter­na­tion­al So­ci­ety (Lon­don), and of the Vi­en­na and Mu­nich So­ci­eties of Painters. In 1901 he was made a Cheva­lier of the Le­gion of Hon­our. He ex­ecut­ed dec­ora­tive pan­els for the Con­gres­sion­al Li­brary, Wash­ing­ton, D.C., and a large dec­ora­tion for the Carnegie In­sti­tute, Pitts­burg, Penn­syl­va­nia; and his works in­clude nu­mer­ous por­traits and sub­ject pic­tures.

ALEXAN­DER, JOSEPH AD­DI­SON (1809-1860), Amer­ican bib­li­cal schol­ar, the third son of Archibald Alexan­der, was born in Philadel­phia, Penn­syl­va­nia, on the 24th of April 1809. He grad­uat­ed at the Col­lege of New Jer­sey (now Prince­ton Uni­ver­si­ty) in 1826, hav­ing de­vot­ed him­self es­pe­cial­ly to the study of He­brew and oth­er ori­en­tal lan­guages, and from 1830 to 1833 was ad­junct pro­fes­sor of an­cient lan­guages and lit­er­ature there. In 1834 he be­came an as­sis­tant to Dr Charles Hodge, pro­fes­sor of ori­en­tal and bib­li­cal lit­er­ature in the Prince­ton The­olog­ical Sem­inary, and in 1838 be­came as­so­ciate pro­fes­sor of ori­en­tal and bib­li­cal lit­er­ature there, suc­ceed­ing Dr Hodge in that chair in 1840 and be­ing trans­ferred in 1851 to the chair of bib­li­cal and ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal his­to­ry, and in 1859 to that of Hel­lenis­tic and New Tes­ta­ment lit­er­ature, which he oc­cu­pied un­til his death at Prince­ton on the 28th of Jan­uary 1860. Alexan­der was a re­mark­able lin­quist and ex­egete. He had been or­dained as a Pres­by­te­ri­an min­is­ter in 1839, and was well known for his pul­pit elo­quence. He was the au­thor of The Ear­li­er Prophe­cies of Isa­iah (1846), The Lat­er Prophe­cies of Isa­iah (1847), and an ab­bre­vi­ation of these two vol­umes, Isa­iah Il­lus­trat­ed and Ex­plained (2 vols., 1851), The Psalms Trans­lat­ed and Ex­plained (3 vols., 1850), com­men­taries on Acts (2 vols., 1857), Mark (1858) and Matthew (1860), and two vol­umes of Ser­mons (1860).

See The Life of Joseph A. Alexan­der (2 vols., 2nd ed., New York, 1875) by his nephew, Hen­ry C. Alexan­der.

His broth­er, JAMES WAD­DEL ALEXAN­DER (1804-1859), born in Louisa coun­ty, Vir­ginia, on the 13th of March 1804, was a fa­mous Pres­by­te­ri­an preach­er. He grad­uat­ed at the Col­lege of New Jer­sey in 1820, stud­ied the­ol­ogy in the Prince­ton Sem­inary, and was pas­tor of a Pres­by­te­ri­an church in Char­lotte coun­ty, Vir­ginia, from 1826 to 1828, and of the First Pres­by­te­ri­an church in Tren­ton, New Jer­sey, in 1829-1832. From 1833 to 1844 he was pro­fes­sor of belles-​let­tres and Latin lan­guage and lit­er­ature in the Col­lege of New Jer­sey, from 1844 to 1849 was pas­tor of the Du­ane Street Pres­by­te­ri­an church in New York City, from 1849 to 1851 was pro­fes­sor of ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal his­to­ry, church gov­ern­ment and sa­cred rhetoric in the Prince­ton The­olog­ical Sem­inary, and from 1851 un­til his death, at Red Sweet Springs, Vir­ginia, on the 31st of Ju­ly 1859, was pas­tor of the Fifth Av­enue Pres­by­te­ri­an church in New York City. He wrote nu­mer­ous mag­azine ar­ti­cles and pub­lished a num­ber of books, in­clud­ing The Amer­ican Me­chan­ic and Work­ing­man (2 vols., 1847, a col­tec­tion of pa­pers to me­chan­ics first print­ed un­der the pseudonym of “Charles Quill”), Thoughts on Fam­ily Wor­ship (1847), Sacra­men­tal Ad­dress­es (1854), The Re­vival and its Lessons (1859), Thoughts on Preach­ing (1861), Faith (1862), and many ju­ve­nile books for Sun­day-​school li­braries.

See Forty Years’ Fa­mil­iar Let­ters of James W. Alexan­der (2 vols., New York, 1860), edit­ed by Dr John Hall (1806-1894) of Tren­ton, N. J.

ALEXAN­DER, WILLIAM (1824- ), Protes­tant arch­bish­op of Ar­magh and pri­mate of all Ire­land, was born at Lon­don­der­ry on the 13th of April 1824 and ed­ucat­ed at Ton­bridge Gram­mar School and Brasenose Col­lege, Ox­ford. Af­ter hold­ing sev­er­al liv­ings in the north of Ire­land he was made bish­op of Der­ry and Raphoe in 1867, and was el­evat­ed to the pri­ma­cy in 1896. He was Bamp­ton lec­tur­er in 1816. An elo­quent preach­er and the au­thor of nu­mer­ous the­olog­ical works, he is best known to lit­er­ature as a mas­ter of dig­ni­fied and an­imat­ed verse. His po­ems were col­lect­ed in 1887 un­der the ti­tle of St Au­gus­tine’s Hol­iday, and oth­er Po­ems. His wife, Ce­cil Fran­cis Humphreys (1818-1895), wrote some tracts in con­nex­ion with the Ox­ford move­ment, but is fa­mous as the au­thor of “Je­sus calls us o’er the tu­mult,” “There is a green hill far away” and oth­er well-​known hymns (near­ly four hun­dred in all). A col­lec­tion of her verse was pub­lished in 1896.

ALEXAN­DER, WILLIAM LIND­SAY (1808-1884), Scot­tish di­vine, was born at Lei­th on the 24th of Au­gust 1808. He was ed­ucat­ed at the uni­ver­si­ties of St An­drews and Ed­in­burgh, where he gained a last­ing rep­uta­tion for clas­si­cal schol­ar­ship. He en­tered Glas­gow The­olog­ical Acade­my un­der Ralph Ward­law in Septem­ber 1827, but in De­cem­ber of the same year he left to be­come clas­si­cal tu­tor at the Black­burn The­olog­ical Acade­my (af­ter­wards the Lan­cashire In­de­pen­dent Col­lege). At Black­burn he stayed till 1831, lec­tur­ing on bib­li­cal lit­er­ature, meta­physics, Greek and Latin. Af­ter short vis­its to Ger­many and Lon­don he was in­vit­ed in Novem­ber 1834 to be­come min­is­ter of North Col­lege Street church (af­ter­wards Ar­gyle Square), Ed­in­burgh, an in­de­pen­dent church which had arisen out of the evan­gel­ical move­ment as­so­ci­at­ed with the Hal­danes. He de­lib­er­ate­ly put aside the am­bi­tion to be­come a pul­pit or­ator in favour of the prac­tice of bib­li­cal ex­po­si­tion, which he in­vest­ed with a sin­gu­lar charm and im­pres­sive­ness. In 1836 he be­came one of the ed­itors of the Con­gre­ga­tion­al Mag­azine, to which he con­tribut­ed ar­ti­cles on bib­li­cal lit­er­ature and the­ol­ogy and on the “vol­un­tary” con­tro­ver­sy. In 1840 he de­liv­ered the Con­gre­ga­tion­al Lec­ture in Lon­don on the “Con­nex­ion and Har­mo­ny of the Old and New Tes­ta­ments.”

Alexan­der took an ac­tive part in the “vol­un­tary” con­tro­ver­sy which end­ed in the Dis­rup­tion, but he al­so main­tained broad and catholic views of the spir­itu­al re­la­tions be­tween dif­fer­ent sec­tions of the Chris­tian church. In 1845 he vis­it­ed Switzer­land with the spe­cial ob­ject of in­quir­ing in­to the re­li­gious life of the church­es there. He pub­lished an ac­count of his jour­ney in a book, Switzer­land and the Swiss Church­es, which led to an in­ter­change of cor­re­spon­dence be­tween the Swiss and Scot­tish church­es. In 1845 he re­ceived the de­gree of D.D. from the uni­ver­si­ty of St An­drews. In 1861 he un­der­took the ed­itor­ship of the third edi­tion of Kit­to’s Bib­li­cal En­cy­clopae­dia with the un­der­stand­ing that the whole work should be thor­ough­ly re­vised and brought up to date. In Jan­uary 1870 he be­came one of the com­mit­tee of Old Tes­ta­ment re­vis­ers, and by his thor­ough bib­li­cal schol­ar­ship ren­dered ex­cep­tion­al ser­vice to the board; he en­joyed the work and de­vot­ed much time to it for the next four­teen years. In 1877 he be­came prin­ci­pal of the Ed­in­burgh The­olog­ical Hall, a po­si­tion which he held, in spite of many tempt­ing of­fers of prefer­ment else­where, un­til his death on the 20th of De­cem­ber 1884.

See his Life and Work by James Ross (1887). (D. Mn.)

ALEXAN­DER AE­TO­LUS, of Pleu­ron in Ae­to­lia, Greek po­et and man of let­ters, the on­ly rep­re­sen­ta­tive of Ae­to­lian po­et­ry, flour­ished about 280 B.C. When liv­ing in Alexan­dria he was com­mis­sioned by Ptole­my Philadel­phus to ar­range the tragedies and satyric dra­mas in the li­brary; some ten years lat­er he took up his res­idence at the court of Antigonus Go­natas, king of Mace­do­nia. His rep­uta­tion as a trag­ic po­et was so high that he was al­lot­ted a place in the Alexan­dri­an trag­ic Pleiad; we on­ly know the ti­tle of one play (As­tra­gal­is­tae.) He al­so wrote short epics, epi­grams and ele­gies, the con­sid­er­able frag­ments of which show learn­ing and elo­quence.

Meineke, Analec­ta Alexan­dri­na (1853); Bergk, Po­et­ae Lyri­oi Grae­ci; Couat, La Poe­sie alexan­drine (1882).

ALEXAN­DER BALAS (i.e. “lord”), ruler of the Greek king­dom of Syr­ia 150-146 B.C., was a na­tive of Smyr­na of hum­ble ori­gin, but gave him­self out to be the son of An­ti­ochus IV. Epiphanes and heir to the Syr­ian throne. His claims were rec­og­nized by the Ro­man sen­ate, Ptole­my Philome­tor of Egypt and oth­ers. At first un­suc­cess­ful, he fi­nal­ly de­feat­ed the reign­ing king Demetrius Sot­er in 150 B.C. Be­ing now undis­put­ed mas­ter of Syr­ia, he aban­doned him­self to a life of de­bauch­ery. Demetrius Sot­er’s son prof­it­ed by the op­por­tu­ni­ty to re­gain the throne. Ptole­my Philome­tor, who was Alexan­der’s fa­ther-​in-​law, went over to his side, and Alexan­der was de­feat­ed in a pitched bat­tle near An­ti­och in Syr­ia. He fled for refuge to a Nabataean prince, who mur­dered him and sent his head to Ptole­my, who had been mor­tal­ly wound­ed in the en­gage­ment.

See 1 Mac­cab. 10 ff.; Justin xxxv. 1 and 2; Jose­phus, An­tiq. xi­ii. 2; Ap­pi­an, Sir. 67; Poly­bius xxxi­ii. 14.

ALEXAN­DER COR­NELIUS, Greek gram­mar­ian, sur­named POLY­HIS­TOR from his great learn­ing, born at Mile­tus or Myn­dus in Caria, flour­ished about 70 B.C. He was tak­en pris­on­er in the Mithri­dat­ic war by Sul­la, from whom (or from Cor­nelius Lentu­lus) he re­ceived his free­dom and as­sumed the name Cor­nelius. He ac­com­pa­nied Cras­sus on his Parthi­an cam­paigns, and per­ished at the de­struc­tion by fire of his house at Lau­ren­tum. He is said to have writ­ten “books with­out num­ber,” chiefly on his­tor­ical and ge­ograph­ical sub­jects. Of the ex­tant frag­ments (Muller, Frag­men­ta His­tori­co­rum Graeco­rum, iii:) those re­lat­ing to the Jews are im­por­tant as con­tain­ing quo­ta­tions from lost Jew­ish au­thors.

ALEXAN­DER JAN­NAEUS, king of the Jews, suc­ceed­ed his broth­er Aris­to­bu­lus in 103 B.C. and died in 76 B.C. His first act was the mur­der of one of his broth­ers who claimed the throne, and his reign was dis­graced by the cru­el­ties that he per­pe­trat­ed in or­der to re­tain his po­si­tion. (See JEWS and PHAR­ISEES.)

ALEXAN­DER NEVSKY, SAINT (1220-1263), grand-​duke of Vladimir, was the sec­ond son of the grand-​duke Yaroslav. His child­hood and youth were spent at Great Nov­gorod, whith­er his fa­ther sent him to rule (1228) with some guardian bo­yars. In 1239 he mar­ried Alexan­dra, daugh­ter of Prince Bry­achislav of Polot­sk. At an ear­ly age he dis­tin­guished him­self in con­stant war­fare with the Ger­mans, Swedes and Lithua­ni­ans, who tried to wrest Nov­gorod and Pskov from Rus­sia while she was still suf­fer­ing from the ef­fects of the ter­ri­ble Tatar in­va­sion. The most no­table of these bat­tles, where­by he won his hon­orif­ic ep­ithet of Nevsky (i.e. of the Ne­va), was fought on the banks of the Ne­va (Ju­ly 15 1240) against the fa­mous Swedish states­man, Birg­er Jarl, whom he ut­ter­ly de­feat­ed, be­sides wound­ing him with his lance. In the fol­low­ing year the Teu­ton­ic Or­der, in con­junc­tion with the Or­der of the Sword, suc­ceed­ed in cap­tur­ing Pskov; but Alexan­der re­cov­ered it in 1242, ad­vanced in­to Livo­nia, and on the 5th of April de­feat­ed the knights on the ice of Lake Pei­pus and com­pelled them in the en­su­ing peace to re­nounce all their con­quests. He al­so pre­vent­ed the Swedes (in 1256) from set­tling in South Fin­land. On the death of his fa­ther (1246) Alexan­der and his younger broth­er An­drew went on a two years’ jour­ney in­to Mon­go­lia to ob­tain their yarlui­ki, or let­ters of in­vesti­ture, from the Grand Khan, who then dis­posed of the fate of all the Rus­sian princes. He re­turned (1250) as grand-​duke of Kiev and Nov­gorod, while to An­drew was giv­en the far more im­por­tant grand- duchy of Vladimir. In 1252, how­ev­er, the Tatars them­selves ex­pelled An­drew and placed Alexan­der on the throne of Vladimir. Alexan­der hence­forth did his best for his coun­try by hum­bling him­self be­fore the Tatars so as to give them no pre­text for rav­aging the land again. Most of his spare mon­ey he de­vot­ed to the ran­som­ing of the nu­mer­ous Rus­sian cap­tives de­tained at the Gold­en Horde. But the men of Nov­gorod, in their se­mi-​in­de­pen­dent re­pub­lic, con­tin­ued (1255-1257) to give the grand-​duke trou­ble, their chief grievance be­ing the im­po­si­tion of a Tatar trib­ute, which they on­ly sub­mit­ted to in 1259 on the ru­mour of an im­pend­ing Tatar in­va­sion. In 1262 the Tatar trib­ute was felt so grievous­ly all over Rus­sia that prepa­ra­tions were made for a gen­er­al in­sur­rec­tion, and Alexan­der, who knew that an abortive re­bel­lion would make the yoke heav­ier, was obliged to go to the Horde in per­son to pre­vent the Tatars from again at­tack­ing Rus­sia. He stayed at Sarai, their Vol­gan cap­ital, all the Win­ter, and not on­ly suc­ceed­ed in ob­tain­ing a mit­iga­tion of the trib­ute, but al­so the abo­li­tion of the mil­itary ser­vice pre­vi­ous­ly ren­dered by the Rus­sians to the Tatars. This was his last ser­vice to his coun­try. He died on his way home from the Horde, and in the words of his con­tem­po­rary, the metropoli­tan Cyril, “with him the sun of Rus­sia set.” The Or­tho­dox Church has can­on­ized the ruler who gave his whole life for Rus­sia and the Or­tho­dox faith. His relics, dis­cov­ered in 1380, were in 1724 trans­lat­ed by Pe­ter the Great from Vladimir to St Pe­ters­burg.

See Ser­gyei Mikhailovich Solovev, His­to­ry of Rus­sia (Rus., 2nd ed., St Pe­ters­burg, 1897, vol. 3). (R. N. B.)

ALEXAN­DER OF APHRO­DISIAS, pupil of Aris­to­cles of Messene, the most cel­ebrat­ed of the Greek com­men­ta­tors on the writ­ings of Aris­to­tle, and styled, by way of pre-​em­inence, o ex­egetes (“the ex­pos­itor”), was a na­tive of Aphro­disias in Caria. He came to Athens to­wards the end of the 2nd cen­tu­ry A.D., be­came head of the Lyceum and lec­tured on peri­patet­ic phi­los­ophy. The ob­ject of his work was to free the doc­trine from the syn­cretism of Am­mo­nius and to re­pro­duce the pure doc­trine of Aris­to­tle. Com­men­taries by Alexan­der on the fol­low­ing works of Aris­to­tle are still ex­tant:–the An­alyt­ica Pri­ora, i.; the Top­ica; the Me­te­oro­log­ica; the De Sen­su; and the Meta­phys­ica, i.-v., to­geth­er with an abridg­ment of what he wrote on the re­main­ing books of the Meta­phys­ica. His com­men­taries were great­ly es­teemed among the Ara­bi­ans, who trans­lat­ed many of them. There are al­so sev­er­al orig­inal writ­ings by Alexan­der still ex­tant. The most im­por­tant of these are a work On Fate, in which he ar­gues against the Sto­ic doc­trine of ne­ces­si­ty; and one On the Soul, in which he con­tends that the un­de­vel­oped rea­son in man is ma­te­ri­al (nous ulikos) and in­sep­ara­ble from the body. He ar­gued strong­ly against the doc­trine of im­mor­tal­ity. He iden­ti­fied the ac­tive in­tel­lect (nous poi­etikos), through whose agen­cy the po­ten­tial in­tel­lect in man be­comes ac­tu­al, with God. Sev­er­al of Alexan­der’s works were pub­lished in the Al­dine edi­tion of Aris­to­tle, Venice, 1495-1498; his De Fa­to and De An­ima were print­ed along with the works of Themistius at Venice (1534); the for­mer work, which has been trans­lat­ed in­to Latin by Grotius and al­so by Schulthess, was edit­ed by J. C. Orel­li, Zurich, 1824; and his com­men­taries on the Meta­phys­ica by H. Bonitz, Berlin, 1847. J. Nouris­son has treat­ed of his doc­trine of fate (De la lib­erte et du haz­ard, Paris, 1870). In the ear­ly Re­nais­sance his doc­trine of the soul’s mor­tal­ity was adopt­ed by F. Pom­pon­azzi against the Thomists and the Aver­roists.

See PERI­PATET­ICS (ad fin.); ALEXAN­DRISTS; POM­PON­AZZI, PIETRO; al­so A. Apelt, “Die Schrift d. Alex. v. Aphr.,” Philole­gus, xlv., 1886: C. Ru­elle, “Alex. d’Aphr. et le pre­tendu Alex. d’Alexan­drie,” Rev. des etudes grec­ques, v., 1892; E. Zeller’s Out­lines of Gk. Phil. (Eng. trans., ed. 1905, p. 296).

ALEXAN­DER OF HALES (ALEXAN­DER HALEN­SIS), sur­named DOC­TOR IR­REFRAGA­BILIS, THE­OL­OGO­RUM MONAR­CHA and FONS VI­TAE, a cel­ebrat­ed En­glish the­olo­gian of the 13th cen­tu­ry, was born in Glouces­ter­shire. Trained in the monastery of Hales he was ear­ly raised to an archdea­con­ry. He went, like most of the schol­ars of his day, to study at Paris, where he took the de­gree of doc­tor and be­came cel­ebrat­ed as a teach­er. It is gen­er­al­ly held that he taught Bonaven­tu­ra, Duns Sco­tus and Thomas Aquinas, but a com­par­ison of dates makes it clear that the two lat­ter could not have been his pupils and that the state­ment about Bonaven­tu­ra is open to doubt. In 1222 (or 1231, see Deni­fle, Char­tul. Univers. Paris, Paris, 1889, i. 135) Alexan­der en­tered the or­der of Mi­norite Fri­ars and thence­for­ward lived in strict seclu­sion. He re­fused, how­ev­er, to re­nounce his de­gree of doc­tor, and was the first of his or­der who con­tin­ued to bear that ti­tle af­ter ini­ti­ation. He died in 1245 and was buried in the con­vent of the Corde­liers at Paris. His most cel­ebrat­ed work was the Sum­ma The­olo­giae (Nurem­berg, 1452; Venice, 1576; Cologne, 1611), un­der­tak­en by the or­ders of Pope In­no­cent IV. and ap­proved by Alexan­der IV., on the re­port of sev­en­ty learned the­olo­gians, as a sys­tem of in­struc­tion for all the schools in Chris­ten­dom. The form is that of ques­tion and an­swer, and the method is rigid­ly scholas­tic. Of small in­trin­sic val­ue, it is in­ter­est­ing part­ly as the first philo­soph­ical con­tri­bu­tion of the Fran­cis­cans who were af­ter­wards to take a promi­nent part in me­dieval thought (see SCHOLAS­TI­CISM), and part­ly as the first work based on a knowl­edge of the whole Aris­totelian cor­pus and the Ara­bi­an com­men­ta­tors.

See Wadding, Script. ord. mi­nor. (Rome, 1650); for his method B. Hau­reau, Hist. de phi­los. scholast. (Paris, 1880); F. Pi­cavet, “Abelard et A. de H.” in the Bib­lio­th­ieque de l’ecole des hautes-​etudes (2nd se­ries, Paris, 1896, pp. 222-230); Schwane, Dog­mengesch. (Freiburg, 1882); A. Har­nack, Dog­mengesch. (1890); J. En­dres, “Des A. von H. Leben und psv­chol. Lehre” in Phi­los. Jahrb. (i. Ful­da, 1888, pp. 24-55, 203-296): al­so Va­cant’s Dict. de the­olo­gie catholique, vol. i.

ALEXAN­DER OP TRALLES (ALEXAN­DER TRAL­LIANUS), Greek physi­cian, born at Tralles in Ly­dia, lived prob­ably about the mid­dle of the 6th cen­tu­ry and prac­tised medicine with suc­cess at Rome. The Greek text of his Bib­lia ia­tri­ka was print­ed at Paris in 1548 and his De Lum­bri­cis at Venice in 1570.

See E. Mil­ward, Tral­lianus Re­vivis­cens (Lon­don, 1734).

ALEXAN­DER SEVERUS (MAR­CUS AU­RE­LIUS SEVERUS ALEX­AXDER) (208-235), Ro­man em­per­or from A.D. 222 to 235, was born at Ar­ca Cae­sarea in Pales­tine on the 1st of Oc­to­ber 208. His fa­ther, Ges­sius Mar­cianus, held of­fice more than once as an im­pe­ri­al procu­ra­tor; his moth­er, Ju­lia Ma­maea, was the daugh­ter of Ju­lia Mae­sa and the aunt of He­li­oga­balus. His orig­inal name was Bassianus, but he changed it in 221 when his grand­moth­er, Mae­sa, per­suad­ed the em­per­or He­li­oga­balus to adopt his cousin as suc­ces­sor and cre­ate him Cae­sar. In the next year, on the 11th of March, He­li­oga­balus was mur­dered, and Alexan­der was pro­claimed em­per­or by the Prae­to­ri­ans and ac­cept­ed by the sen­ate. He was then a mere lad, ami­able, well-​mean­ing, but en­tire­ly un­der the do­min­ion of his moth­er, a wom­an of many virtues, who sur­round­ed him with wise coun­sel­lors, watched over the de­vel­op­ment of his char­ac­ter and im­proved the tone of the ad­min­is­tra­tion, but on the oth­er hand was in­or­di­nate­ly jeal­ous, and alien­at­ed the army by ex­treme par­si­mo­ny, while nei­ther she nor her son had a strong enough hand to keep tight the reins of mil­itary dis­ci­pline. Mu­tinies be­came fre­quent in all parts of the em­pire; to one of them the life of the ju­rist and prae­to­ri­an prae­fect Ulpi­an was sac­ri­ficed; an­oth­er com­pelled the re­tire­ment of Dio Cas­sius from his com­mand) On the whole, how­ev­er, the reign of Alexan­der was pros­per­ous till he was sum­moned to the East to face the new pow­er of the Sas­sa­ni­ans (see PER­SIA: His­to­ry.) Of the war that fol­lowed we have very var­ious ac­counts; Momm­sen leans to that which is least favourable to the Ro­mans. Ac­cord­ing to Alexan­der’s own despatch to the sen­ate he gained great vic­to­ries. At all events, though the Per­sians were checked for the time, the con­duct of the Ro­man army showed an ex­traor­di­nary lack of dis­ci­pline. The em­per­or re­turned to Rome and cel­ebrat­ed a tri­umph (233), but next year he was called to face Ger­man in­vaders in Gaul, where he was slain (on the 18th or 19th of March 235), to­geth­er with his moth­er, in a mutiny which was prob­ably led by Max­imi­nus, a Thra­cian le­gionary, and at any rate se­cured him the throne. Alexan­der was the last of the Syr­ian princes. Dur­ing his reign, act­ing, as he did in most things, un­der the in­flu­ence of his moth­er, he did much to im­prove the morals and con­di­tion of the peo­ple. His ad­vis­ers were men like the fa­mous ju­rist Ulpi­an, the his­to­ri­an Dio Cas­sius and a se­lect board of six­teen sen­ators; a mu­nic­ipal coun­cil of four­teen as­sist­ed the city prae­fect in ad­min­is­ter­ing the af­fairs of the four­teen dis­tricts of Rome. The lux­ury and ex­trav­agance that had for­mer­ly been so preva­lent at the court were put down; the stan­dard of the coinage was raised; tax­es were light­ened; lit­er­ature, art and sci­ence were en­cour­aged; the lot of the sol­diers was im­proved; and, for the con­ve­nience of the peo­ple, loan of­fices were in­sti­tut­ed for lend­ing mon­ey at a mod­er­ate rate of in­ter­est. In re­li­gious mat­ters Alexan­der pre­served an open mind. In his pri­vate chapel he had busts of Or­pheus, Abra­ham, Apol­lo­nius of Tyana and Je­sus Christ. It is said that he was de­sirous of erect­ing a tem­ple to the founder of Chris­tian­ity, but was dis­suad­ed by the pa­gan priests. There is no doubt that, had Alexan­der’s many ex­cel­lent qual­ities been sup­port­ed by the en­er­gy and strength of will nec­es­sary for the gov­ern­ment of a mil­itary em­pire, he would have been one of the great­est of the Ro­man em­per­ors.

See Lam­prid­ius, Alexan­der Severus; Dio Cas­sius lxxvi­ii. 30, lxxix. 17, lxxx. 1; Hero­di­an vi. 1-18; Por­rath, Der Kaiser Alex. Sev. (1876); Pauly-​Wis­sowa, Realen­cy­clopadie, ii. 2526 foll. (Groebe); mono­graph by R. V. Nind Hop­kins, Cam­bridge His­tor­ical Es­says, No. xiv. (1907).

ALEXAN­DER THE PA­PHLAG­ONI­AN, a cel­ebrat­ed im­pos­tor and work­er of false or­acles, was born at Abonoute­ichos (see INEBOLI) in Pa­phlag­onia in the ear­ly part of the 2nd cen­tu­ry A.D. The vivid nar­ra­tive of his ca­reer giv­en by Lu­cian might be tak­en as fic­ti­tious but for the cor­rob­ora­tion of cer­tain coins of the em­per­ors Lu­cius Verus and Mar­cus Au­re­lius (J. H. Eck­hel, Doc­tri­na Num­mo­rum veterum, ii. pp. 383, 384) and of a stat­ue of Alexan­der, said by Athenago­ras (Apol­ogy, c. 26) to have stood in the fo­rum of Par­ium. Af­ter a pe­ri­od of in­struc­tion in medicine by a doc­tor who al­so, ac­cord­ing to Lu­cian, was an im­pos­tor, he suc­ceed­ed in es­tab­lish­ing an or­acle of Aes­cu­lapius at his na­tive town. Hav­ing cir­cu­lat­ed a prophe­cy that the son of Apol­lo was to be born again, he con­trived that there should be found in the foun­da­tions of the tem­ple to Aes­cu­lapius, then in course of con­struc­tion at Abonoute­ichos, an egg in which a small live snake had been placed. In an age of su­per­sti­tion no peo­ple had so great a rep­uta­tion for creduli­ty as the Pa­phlag­oni­ans, and Alexan­der had lit­tle dif­fi­cul­ty in con­vinc­ing them of the sec­ond com­ing of the god un­der the name of Gly­con. A large tame snake with a false hu­man head, wound round Alexan­der’s body as he sat in a shrine in the tem­ple, gave “au­to­phones” or or­acles unasked, but the usu­al meth­ods prac­tised were those of the nu­mer­ous or­acle-​mon­gers of the time, of which Lu­cian gives a de­tailed ac­count, the open­ing of sealed in­quiries by heat­ed nee­dles, a neat plan of forg­ing bro­ken seals, and the giv­ing of vague or mean­ing­less replies to dif­fi­cult ques­tions, cou­pled with a lu­cra­tive black­mail­ing of those whose in­quiries were com­pro­mis­ing. The rep­uta­tion of the or­acle, which was in ori­gin med­ical, spread, and with it grew Alexan­der’s skilled plans of or­ga­nized de­cep­tion. He set up an “in­tel­li­gence bu­reau” in Rome, in­sti­tut­ed mys­ter­ies like those of Eleu­sis, from which his par­tic­ular en­emies the Chris­tians and Epi­cure­ans were alike ex­clud­ed as “pro­fane,” and cel­ebrat­ed a mys­tic mar­riage be­tween him­self and the moon. Dur­ing the plague of A.D. 166 a verse from the or­acle was used as an amulet and was in­scribed over the doors of hous­es as a pro­tec­tion, and an or­acle was sent, at Mar­cus Au­re­lius’ re­quest, by Alexan­der to the Ro­man army on the Danube dur­ing the war with the Mar­co­man­ni, declar­ing that vic­to­ry would fol­low on the throw­ing of two li­ons alive in­to the riv­er. The re­sult was a great dis­as­ter, and Alexan­der had re­course to the old quib­ble of the Del­ph­ic or­acle to Croe­sus for an ex­pla­na­tion. Lu­cian’s own close in­ves­ti­ga­tions in­to Alexan­der’s meth­ods of fraud led to a se­ri­ous at­tempt on his life. The whole ac­count gives a graph­ic de­scrip­tion of the in­ner work­ing of one among the many new or­acles that were spring­ing up at this pe­ri­od. Alexan­der had re­mark­able beau­ty and the strik­ing per­son­al­ity of the suc­cess­ful char­la­tan, and must have been a man of con­sid­er­able in­tel­lec­tu­al abil­ities and pow­er of or­ga­ni­za­tion. His in­come is said by Lu­cian to have reached an enor­mous fig­ure. He died of gan­grene of the leg in his sev­en­ti­eth year.

See Lu­cian, ‘Alexan­dros e pseu­do­man­tis; Samuel Dill, Ro­man So­ci­ety from Nero to Mar­cus Au­re­lius (1904): and F. Gre­gorovius, The Em­per­or Hadri­an, trans. by M. E. Robin­son (1898).

ALEXAN­DERS (botan­ical name, Smyrni­um Olusatrum, nat­ural or­der Um­bel­lif­er­ae), a stout herba­ceous plant with a fur­rowed, much-​branched stem 1-3 ft. high, and large com­pound leaves with broad sheath­ing stalks, and broad, cut or lobed seg­ments. The small yel­low flow­ers are borne in com­pound um­bels. The plant is a na­tive of the Mediter­ranean re­gion, and was for­mer­ly cul­ti­vat­ed as a pot-​herb. It is now found ap­par­ent­ly wild in Great Britain and Ire­land, grow­ing in waste places, es­pe­cial­ly near the sea and amongst ru­ins.

In Eng­land the plant is some­times pop­ular­ly termed “al­isander”; in North Amer­ica Thaspi­um au­reum is some­times called “alexan­ders.” “Alexan­der’s foot,” botan­ical name Ana­cy­clus Pyrethrum, is the pel­li­to­ry of Spain.

ALEXAN­DER­SBAD, a wa­ter­ing-​place of Ger­many, in the king­dom of Bavaria, ro­man­ti­cal­ly sit­uat­ed in the Fichtel­ge­birge, near Wun­siedel, at a height of 1900 ft. above the sea. Pop. 1200. Its wa­ters, which are fer­rug­inous and large­ly charged with car­bon­ic acid gas, are of use in ner­vous and rheumat­ic dis­or­ders. In the neigh­bour­hood is the Luisen­burg (or Luxburg), so called af­ter a vis­it paid by Queen Louise of Prus­sia in 1805, a hill cov­ered by ma­jes­tic gran­ite rocks, com­mand­ing a grand view of the whole range of the Fichtel­ge­birge.

ALEXAN­DRE, NOEL (NA­TAL­IS ALEXAN­DER) (1639-1724), French the­olo­gian and ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal his­to­ri­an, was born at Rouen on the 19th of Jan­uary 1639. In his 15th year he joined the Do­mini­cans, and short­ly af­ter his or­di­na­tion was ap­point­ed pro­fes­sor of phi­los­ophy at the con­vent of Saint-​Jacques in Paris. The suc­cess of his sub­se­quent lec­tures at the Sor­bonne led to his se­lec­tion by Col­bert as tu­tor to his son, Jacques Nico­las Col­bert, af­ter­wards arch­bish­op of Rouen. Alexan­dre ob­tained the de­gree of doc­tor in di­vin­ity from the Sor­bonne in 1675 and for twelve years taught phi­los­ophy, the­ol­ogy and ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal law to the mem­bers of the Saint-​Jacques com­mu­ni­ty. He played a promi­nent part in ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal af­fairs and preached sev­er­al times be­fore Louis XIV., who grant­ed him an an­nu­al pen­sion of 800 livres, and in the gen­er­al as­sem­blies of the French bish­ops. He be­came provin­cial of his or­der in 1706, but was ban­ished to Chateller­ault in 1709 for hav­ing sub­scribed to the Cas de con­science (1703), and was de­prived of his pen­sion in 1713 on ac­count of his op­po­si­tion to the bull Uni­gen­itus. He died in Paris on the 21st of Au­gust 1724, hav­ing lost his sight some time be­fore ow­ing to his stren­uous lit­er­ary ac­tiv­ity. His nu­mer­ous works are still much val­ued by ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal stu­dents.

His best-​known work, the Se­lec­ta his­to­ri­ae ec­cle­si­as­ti­cae capi­ta, et in lo­ca ejus­dem in­signia dis­ser­ta­tiones his­tor­icae, chrono­log­icae, dog­mat­icae (26 vols., Paris, 1676-1686), was placed on the In­dex by In­no­cent XI., on ac­count of his bold de­fence of the Gal­li­can claims. In 1689 he brought out at Paris his his­to­ry of the Old Tes­ta­ment: Se­lec­ta his­to­ri­ae Vet­eris Tes­ta­men­ti capi­ta, &c., in 6 vols. Of the nu­mer­ous edi­tions of Alexan­dre’s ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal his­to­ry the best is that of P. J. D. Man­si, which con­tains many valu­able notes and ad­di­tions (11 vols., Luc­ca, 1749) and has been fre­quent­ly reprint­ed. Alexan­dre’s prin­ci­pal con­tri­bu­tion to the­olog­ical lit­er­ature is his The­olo­gia dog­mat­ica et moralis se­cun­dum or­dinem cat­echis­mi con­cilii Tri­den­ti­ni (10 vols., Paris, 1694), in which he clear­ly shows him­self a dis­ci­ple of the Thomist school. His Coufor­mite des cer­emonies chi­nois­es avec l’idol­atrie grecque et ro­maine and Sept let­tres sur les cer­emonies de la Chine (both pub­lished at Cologne in 1700) are in­ter­est­ing as they mark him out as a pi­oneer in the study of com­par­ative re­li­gion.

See Cat­alogue com­plet des oeu­vres du Pere Alexan­dre (Paris, 1716); Quetif-​Echard, Scrip­tores or­di­nis praed­ica­to­rum (Paris, 1719-1721), t. ii. p. 810; and full bib­li­og­ra­phy in A. Va­cant, Dict. de the­olo­gie (schol­ar­ly ar­ti­cle by P. Man­dounet, cols. 769-772).

ALEXAN­DRET­TA, or ISKAN­DERUN (med. Scan­deroon), a town of N. Syr­ia, sit­uat­ed in the N.E. an­gle of the Lev­an­tine Mediter­ranean on the S.E. of the gulf to which it gives a ti­tle. Pop. about 10,000, two-​thirds Moslem. Iskan­derun pre­serves the name, but prob­ably not the ex­act site, of Alexan­dria ad Is­sum, found­ed by Alexan­der in 333 B.C., about 23 m. S. of the scene of his vic­to­ry, to su­per­sede Myr­ian­drus as key of the Syr­ian Gates (Beilan Pass). The im­por­tance of the place ev­er since has been de­rived from its re­la­tion to this pass, the eas­iest ap­proach to the open ground of N. Syr­ia of which An­ti­och and Alep­po have been the suc­ces­sive cap­itals; and this re­la­tion has pre­vailed over the ex­treme un­health­iness of the site, which lies on marshy delta­ic ground, screened by the horse­shoe of El­ma Dagh from all pu­ri­fy­ing in­flu­ences of N. and E. winds. As the main out­let for the over­land trade from Bag­dad and In­dia, whose im­por­tance was great un­til the es­tab­lish­ment of the Egyp­tian over­land route, the place was a great re­sort, first of Ge­noese and Vene­tian mer­chants, then of those of West and North Eu­ro­pean na­tions. The British Lev­ant (Turkey) Com­pa­ny main­tained an agen­cy and fac­to­ry here for 200 years, till 1825, in spite of ap­palling mor­tal­ity among its em­ployes. Alexan­dret­ta is still the main port for the Alep­po dis­trict, to which a good chaussee leads over the Beilan Pass, and it has a con­sid­er­able ex­port trade in to­bac­co, silk, ce­re­als, liquorice, tex­tiles. The health of the place has im­proved with the drain­ing of the marsh­es and the pro­vi­sion of a bet­ter sup­ply of wa­ter, but still leaves much to be de­sired. The wealth­ier in­hab­itants have sum­mer res­idences at Beilan near the sum­mit of the pass, long a stronghold of free­boot­ing Dere Beys and the scene of the vic­to­ry won by Ibrahim Pasha in 1832, which opened Cili­cia to his ad­vance. There are res­ident con­suls of all the prin­ci­pal pow­ers, and the port is well served by coast­ing steam­ers un­der Eu­ro­pean and Ot­toman flags. The dis­tance by road to Alep­po has been short­ened to about 70 m., and An­takia (An­ti­och) is about 45 m. dis­tant by a branch of the same chaussee. (D. G. H.)

ALEXAN­DRIA (Arab. Isk­ende­ria), a city and chief sea­port of Egypt, and for over a thou­sand years from its foun­da­tion the cap­ital of the coun­try, sit­uat­ed on the Mediter­ranean in 31 deg. 12′ N., 29 deg. 15′ E., and 129 m. by rail N.W. of Cairo. The an­cient Canopic mouth of the Nile (now dry) was 12 m. E.

I. The Mod­ern City.–The city is built on the strip of land which sep­arates the Mediter­ranean from Lake Mareo­tis ( Mar­iut), and on a T-​shaped penin­su­la which forms har­bours east and west. The stem of the T was orig­inal­ly a mole lead­ing to an is­land (Pharos) which formed the cross-​piece. In the course of cen­turies this mole has been silt­ed up and is now an isth­mus half a mile wide. On it a part of the mod­ern city is built. The cape at the west­ern end of the penin­su­la is Ras et-​Tin (Cape of Figs); the east­ern cape is known as Pharos or Kait Bey. South of the town–be­tween it and Lake Mareo­tis–runs the Mah­mudiya canal, which en­ters the west­ern har­bour by a se­ries of locks.

The cus­toms house and chief ware­hous­es are by the west­ern har­bour, but the prin­ci­pal build­ings of the city are in the east and south-​east quar­ters. From the land­ing-​stage, by the cus­toms house, roads lead to the Place Mehemet Ali, the cen­tre of the life of the city and the start­ing-​point of the elec­tric tramways. The place, usu­al­ly called the Grand Square, is an ob­long open space, tree-​lined, in the cen­tre of which there is an eques­tri­an stat­ue of the prince af­ter whom it is named. The square is faced with hand­some build­ings main­ly in the Ital­ian style. The most im­por­tant are the law courts, ex­change, Ot­toman bank, En­glish church and the Ab­bas Hil­mi the­atre. A num­ber of short streets lead from the square to the east­ern har­bour. Here a sea wall, com­plet­ed in 1905, pro­vides a mag­nif­icent drive and prom­enade along the shore for a dis­tance of about 3 m. In build­ing this quay a con­sid­er­able area of fore­shore was re­claimed and an evil-​smelling beach done away with. From the south end of the square the rue Sherif Pasha–in which are the prin­ci­pal shops–and the rue Tew­fik Pasha lead to the boule­vard, or rue, de Rosette, a long straight road with a gen­er­al E. and W. di­rec­tion. In it are the Zizinia the­atre and the mu­nic­ipal palace (con­tain­ing the pub­lic li­brary); the mu­se­um lies up a short street to the N. Opened in 1895 this mu­se­um pos­sess­es an im­por­tant col­lec­tion of Egyp­tian, Greek and Ro­man an­tiq­ui­ties, found not on­ly in the city but in all Low­er Egypt and the Fayum. The west­ern end of the boule­vard leads to the Place Ibrahim, of­ten called Place Ste Cather­ine, from the Ro­man Catholic church at its S.E. side. In a street run­ning S. from the boule­vard to the rail­way sta­tion is the mosque of Nebi Daniel, con­tain­ing the tombs of Said Pasha and oth­er mem­bers of the khe­di­vial fam­ily. Im­me­di­ate­ly E. of the mosque is Kom ed-​Dik, gar­risoned by British troops, one of sev­er­al forts built for the pro­tec­tion of the city. Ex­cept Kom ed-​Dik the forts have not been re­paired since the bom­bard­ment of 1882. Equal­ly ob­so­lete is the old line of for­ti­fi­ca­tions which for­mer­ly marked the lim­its of the city south and east and has now been part­ly de­mol­ished. Through­out the cen­tral part of Alexan­dria the streets are paved with blocks of la­va and light­ed by elec­tric­ity.

The north quar­ter is main­ly oc­cu­pied by na­tives and Lev­an­tines. The nar­row wind­ing streets and the Arab bazaars present an Ori­en­tal scene con­trast­ing with the Eu­ro­pean as­pect of the dis­trict al­ready de­scribed. This Arab quar­ter is tra­versed by the rue Ras et-​Tin, lead­ing to the promon­to­ry of than name. Here, over­look­ing the har­bour, is the khe­di­vial yacht club (built 1903) and the palace, al­so called Ras et-​Tin, built by Mehemet Ali, a large but not oth­er­wise note­wor­thy build­ing. In the dis­trict be­tween the Grand Square and the west­ern har­bour, one of the poor­est quar­ters of the city, is an open space with Fort Caf­fare­li or Napoleon in the cen­tre. This quar­ter has been pierced by sev­er­al straight roads, one of which, cross­ing the Mah­mudiya canal by the Pont Neuf, leads to Gab­bari, the most west­er­ly part of the city and an in­dus­tri­al and man­ufac­tur­ing re­gion, pos­sess­ing as­phalt works and oil, rice and pa­per mills. On ei­ther side of the canal are the ware­hous­es of whole­sale deal­ers in cot­ton, wool, sug­ar, grain and oth­er com­modi­ties. In the south­ern part of the city are the Arab ceme­tery, “Pom­pey’s Pil­lar” and the cat­acombs. “Pom­pey’s Pil­lar,” which stands on the high­est spot in Alexan­dria, is near­ly 99 ft. high, in­clud­ing the pedestal. The shaft is of red gran­ite and is beau­ti­ful­ly pol­ished. Nine feet in di­am­eter at the base, it ta­pers to eight feet at the top. The cat­acombs, a short dis­tance S.W. of the pil­lar, are hewn out of the rocky slope of a hill, and are an elab­orate se­ries of cham­bers adorned with pil­lars, stat­ues, re­li­gious sym­bols and traces of paint­ing (see be­low, An­cient City.) Along the north­ern side of the Mah­mudiya canal, which here pass­es a lit­tle S. of the cat­acombs, are many fine hous­es and gar­dens (Mo­har­rem Bey quar­ter), stretch­ing east­ward for a con­sid­er­able dis­tance, favourite res­idences of wealthy cit­izens. A sim­ilar res­iden­tial quar­ter has al­so grown up on the N.E., where the line of the old for­ti­fi­ca­tions has be­come a boule­vard. The dis­trict ex­tend­ing out­side the E. for­ti­fi­ca­tions, in the di­rec­tion of Hadra, has been laid out with fine av­enues, and con­tains nu­mer­ous gar­den-​cafes and plea­sure re­sorts. Thence roads lead to the E. sub­urb known gen­er­al­ly as Ram­leh, which stretch­es along the coast, and is served by a lo­cal rail­way. It be­gins E. of the race­course with Si­di Gabr, and does not end till the khe­di­vial es­tates E. of San Ste­fano are reached, some 5 m. E. All this space is filled with vil­las, gar­dens and ho­tels, and is a favourite sum­mer re­sort not on­ly of Alexan­dri­ans but al­so of Cairenes.

The east­ern bay is rocky, shal­low and ex­posed, and is now used on­ly by na­tive craft. The har­bour is on the W. of Pharos and part­ly formed by a break­wa­ter (built 1871-1873 and pro­longed 1906-1907), 2 m. long. The break­wa­ter starts op­po­site the promon­to­ry of Ras et-​Tin, on which is a light­house, 180 ft. above the sea, built by Mehemet Ali. An­oth­er break­wa­ter starts from the Gab­bari side, the open­ing be­tween the two works be­ing about half a mile. A num­ber of scat­tered rocks lie across the en­trance, but through them two fair­ways have been made, one 600 ft. wide and 35 ft. deep, the oth­er 300 ft. wide and 30 ft. deep. The en­closed wa­ter is di­vid­ed in­to an out­er and in­ner har­bour by a mole, 1000 yds. long, pro­ject­ing N.W. from the south­ern shore. The in­ner har­bour cov­ers 464 acres. It is lined for 2 1/2 m. by quays, af­ford­ing ac­com­mo­da­tion for ships draw­ing up to 28 ft. The out­er har­bour (1400 acres wa­ter area) is fur­nished with a grav­ing dock, com­plet­ed in 1905, 520 ft. long, and with quays and jet­ties along the Gab­bari fore­shore. Their con­struc­tion was be­gun in 1906.

Alexan­dria is linked by a net­work of rail­way and tele­graph lines to the oth­er towns of Egypt, and there is a trunk tele­phone line to Cairo. The city se­cured in 1906 a new and ad­equate wa­ter-​sup­ply, mod­ern drainage works hav­ing been com­plet­ed the pre­vi­ous year. Be­ing the great en­tre­pot for the trade of Egypt, the city is the head­quar­ters of the British cham­ber of com­merce and of most of the mer­chants and com­pa­nies en­gaged in the de­vel­op­ment of the Delta. About 90% of the to­tal ex­ports and im­ports of the coun­try pass through the port, though the com­ple­tion, in 1904, of a broad-​gauge rail­way con­nect­ing Cairo and Port Said de­flect­ed some of the cot­ton ex­ports to the Suez Canal route. The sta­ple ex­port is raw cot­ton, the val­ue of which is about 80% of all the ex­ports. The prin­ci­pal im­ports are man­ufac­tured cot­ton goods and oth­er tex­tiles, ma­chin­ery, tim­ber and coal. The val­ue of the trade of the port in­creased from L. 30,000,000 in 1900 to L. 46,000,000 in 1906. In the same pe­ri­od the ton­nage of the ships en­ter­ing the har­bour rose from 2,375,000 to 3,695,000. Of the to­tal trade Great Britain sup­plies from 35 to 40% of the im­ports and takes over 50% of the ex­ports. Among the ex­ports sent to Eng­land are the great ma­jor­ity of the 80,000,000 eggs an­nu­al­ly shipped (see al­so EGYPT: Com­merce.)

The pop­ula­tion of the city (1907) was 332,246 or in­clud­ing the sub­urbs, about 400,000. The for­eign­ers num­bered over 90,000. The ma­jor­ity of these were Greeks, Ital­ians, Syr­ians, Ar­me­ni­ans and oth­er Lev­an­tines, though al­most ev­ery Eu­ro­pean and Ori­en­tal na­tion is rep­re­sent­ed. The pre­dom­inant lan­guages spo­ken, be­sides the Ara­bic of the na­tives, are Greek, French, En­glish and Ital­ian. The labour­ing pop­ula­tion is main­ly Egyp­tian; the Greeks and Lev­an­tines are usu­al­ly shop­keep­ers or pet­ty traders. In its so­cial life Alexan­dria is the most pro­gres­sive and oc­ci­den­tal of all the cities of North Africa, with the pos­si­ble ex­cep­tion of Al­giers. (F. R. C.)

II. The An­cient City.–The Greek Alexan­dria was di­vid­ed in­to three re­gions: (1) the Jews’ quar­ter, form­ing the north-​east por­tion of the city; (2) Rha­co­tis, on the west, oc­cu­pied chiefly by Egyp­tians; (3) Brucheum, the Roy­al or Greek quar­ter, form­ing the most mag­nif­icent por­tion of the city. In Ro­man times Brucheum was en­larged by the ad­di­tion of an of­fi­cial quar­ter, mak­ing up the num­ber of four re­giones in all. The city was laid out as a grid­iron of par­al­lel streets, each of which had an at­ten­dant sub­ter­ranean canal. Two main streets, lined with colon­nades and said to have been each about 200 ft. wide, in­ter­sect­ed in the cen­tre of the city, close to the point where rose the Se­ma (or So­ma) of Alexan­der (i.e. his Mau­soleum). This point is very near the present mosque of Nebi Daniel; and the line of the great east-​west “Canopic” street on­ly slight­ly di­verged from that of the mod­ern Boule­vard de Rosette. Traces of its pave­ment and canal have been found near the Roset­ta Gate; but bet­ter re­mains still of streets and canals were ex­posed in 1899 by the Ger­man ex­ca­va­tors out­side the E. for­ti­fi­ca­tions, which lie well with­in the area of the an­cient city.

Alexan­dria con­sist­ed orig­inal­ly of lit­tle more than the is­land of Pharos, which was joined to the main­land by a mole near­ly a mile long and called the Hep­tas­ta­di­um. The end of this abut­ted on the land at the head of the present Grand Square, where rose the “Moon Gate.” All that now lies be­tween that point and the mod­ern Ras et-​Tin quar­ter is built on the silt which grad­ual­ly widened and oblit­er­at­ed this mole. The Ras et-​Tin quar­ter rep­re­sents all that is left of the is­land of Pharos, the site of the ac­tu­al light­house hav­ing been weath­ered away by the sea. On the east of the mole was the Great Har­bour, now an open bay; on the west lay the port of Eu­nos­tos, with its in­ner basin Ki­botos, now vast­ly en­larged to form the mod­ern har­bour.

In Stra­bo’s time, (lat­ter half of 1st cen­tu­ry B.C.) the prin­ci­pal build­ings were as fol­lows, enu­mer­at­ed as they were to be seen from a ship en­ter­ing the Great Har­bour. (1) The Roy­al Palaces, fill­ing the N.E. an­gle of the town and oc­cu­py­ing the promon­to­ry of Lochias, which shut in the Great Har­bouron the east. Lochias, the mod­ern Phar­il­lon, has al­most en­tire­ly dis­ap­peared in­to the sea, to­geth­er with the palaces, the “Pri­vate Port” and the is­land of An­tir­rho­dus. There has been a land sub­si­dence here, as through­out the N. Delta and in­deed all the N.E. coast of Africa; and on calm days the foun­da­tions of build­ings may be seen, run­ning out far un­der sea, near the Phar­il­lon. Search was made for relics of these palaces by Ger­man ex­plor­ers in 1898-1899, but with­out much suc­cess. (2) The Great The­atre, on the mod­ern Hos­pi­tal Hill near the Ram­leh sta­tion. This was used by Cae­sar as a fortress, where he stood a siege from the city mob af­ter the bat­tle of Pharsalus. (3)The Po­sei­deion or Tem­ple of the Sea God, close to the the­atre and in front of it. (4) The Ti­mo­ni­um built by Antony. (5, 6, 7) The Em­po­ri­um (Ex­change), Apos­tases (Mag­azines) and Navalia (Docks), ly­ing west of (4), along the sea-​front as far as the mole. Be­hind the Em­po­ri­um rose (8) the Great Cae­sareum, by which stood the two great obelisks, lat­er known as “Cleopa­tra’s Nee­dles,” and now re­moved to New York and Lon­don. This tem­ple be­came in time the Pa­tri­ar­chal Church, some re­mains of which have been dis­cov­ered: but the ac­tu­al Cae­sareum, so far as not erod­ed by the waves, lies un­der the hous­es lin­ing the new sea-​wall. (9) The Gym­na­si­um and (10) the Palaes­tra are both in­land, near the great Canopic street (Boule­vard de Rosette) in the east­ern half of the town, but on sites not de­ter­mined. (11) The Tem­ple of Sat­urn: site un­known. (12) The Mau­solea of Alexan­der (So­ma) and the Ptolemies in one ring-​fence, near the point of in­ter­sec­tion of the two main streets. (13) The Mu­se­um with its li­brary and the­atre in the same re­gion; but on a site not iden­ti­fied. (14) The Ser­apeum, the most fa­mous of all Alexan­dri­an tem­ples Stra­bo tells us that this stood in the west of the city; and re­cent dis­cov­er­ies go far to place it near “Pom­pey’s Pil­lar” (see above) which, how­ev­er, was an in­de­pen­dent mon­ument erect­ed to com­mem­orate Dio­cle­tian’s siege of the city. We know the names of a few oth­er pub­lic build­ings on the main­land, but noth­ing as to their po­si­tion. On the east­ern point of the Pharos is­land stood the Great Light­house, one of the “Sev­en Won­ders,” re­put­ed to be 400 ft. high. The first Ptole­my be­gan it, and the sec­ond com­plet­ed it, at a to­tal cost of 800 tal­ents. It is the pro­to­type of all light­hous­es (q.v.) in the world. A tem­ple of Hep­haes­tus al­so stood on Pharos at the head of the mole. In the Au­gus­tan age the pop­ula­tion of Alexan­dria was es­ti­mat­ed at 300,000 free folk, in ad­di­tion to an im­mense num­ber of slaves.

III. His­to­ry.–

An­cient and me­dieval pe­ri­od.

Found­ed in 332 B.C. by Alexan­der the Great, Alexan­dria was in­tend­ed to su­per­sede Nau­cratis (q.v.) as a Greek cen­tre in Egypt, and to be the link be­tween Mace­do­nia and the rich Nile Val­ley. If such a city was to be on the Egyp­tian coast, there was on­ly one pos­si­ble site, be­hind the screen of the Pharos is­land and re­moved from the silt thrown out by Nile mouths. An Egyp­tian town­let, Rha­co­tis, al­ready stood on the shore and was a re­sort of fish­er­men and pi­rates. Be­hind it (ac­cord­ing to the Alexan­dri­an trea­tise, known as pseu­do-​Cal­lis­thenes) were five na­tive vil­lages scat­tered along the strip be­tween Lake Mareo­tis and the sea. Alexan­der oc­cu­pied Pharos, and had a walled city marked out by Deinocrates on the main­land to in­clude Rha­co­tis. A few months lat­er he left Egypt for the East and nev­er re­turned to his city; but his corpse was ul­ti­mate­ly en­tombed there. His viceroy, Cleomenes, con­tin­ued the cre­ation of Alexan­dria. The Hep­tas­ta­di­um, how­ev­er, and the main­land quar­ters seem to have been main­ly Ptole­ma­ic work. In­her­it­ing the trade of ru­ined Tyre and be­com­ing the cen­tre of the new com­merce be­tween Eu­rope and the Ara­bi­an and In­di­an East, the city grew in less than a cen­tu­ry to be larg­er than Carthage; and for some cen­turies more it had to ac­knowl­edge no su­pe­ri­or but Rome. It was a cen­tre not on­ly of Hel­lenism but of Semitism, and the great­est Jew­ish city in the world. There the Sep­tu­agint was pro­duced. The ear­ly Ptolemies kept it in or­der and fos­tered the de­vel­op­ment of its mu­se­um in­to the lead­ing Greek uni­ver­si­ty; but they were care­ful to main­tain the dis­tinc­tion of its pop­ula­tion in­to three na­tions, “Mace­do­nian” (i.e. Greek), Jew and Egyp­tian. From this di­vi­sion arose much of the lat­er tur­bu­lence which be­gan to man­ifest it­self un­der Ptole­my Philopa­ter. Nom­inal­ly a free Greek city, Alexan­dria re­tained its sen­ate to Ro­man times; and in­deed the ju­di­cial func­tions of that body were re­stored by Sep­ti­mius Severus, af­ter tem­po­rary abo­li­tion by Au­gus­tus. The city passed for­mal­ly un­der Ro­man ju­ris­dic­tion in 80 B.C., ac­cord­ing to the will of Ptole­my Alexan­der: but it had been un­der Ro­man in­flu­ence for more than a hun­dred years pre­vi­ous­ly. There Julius Cae­sar dal­lied with Cleopa­tra in 47 B.C. and was mobbed by the rab­ble; there his ex­am­ple was fol­lowed by Antony, for whose favour the city paid dear to Oc­ta­vian, who placed over it a pre­fect from the im­pe­ri­al house­hold. Alexan­dria seems from this time to have re­gained its old pros­per­ity, com­mand­ing, as it did, an im­por­tant gra­nary of Rome. This lat­ter fact, doubt­less, was one of the chief rea­sons which in­duced Au­gus­tus to place it di­rect­ly un­der the im­pe­ri­al pow­er. In A.D. 215 the em­per­or Cara­calla vis­it­ed the city; and, in or­der to re­pay some in­sult­ing satires that the in­hab­itants had made up­on him, he com­mand­ed his troops to put to death all youths ca­pa­ble of bear­ing arms. This bru­tal or­der seems to have been car­ried out even be­yond the let­ter, for a gen­er­al mas­sacre was the re­sult. Notwith­stand­ing this ter­ri­ble dis­as­ter, Alexan­dria soon re­cov­ered its for­mer splen­dour, and for some time longer was es­teemed the first city of the world af­ter Rome. Even as its main his­tor­ical im­por­tance had for­mer­ly sprung from pa­gan learn­ing, so now it ac­quired fresh im­por­tance as a cen­tre of Chris­tian the­ol­ogy and church gov­ern­ment. There Ar­ian­ism was for­mu­lat­ed and there Athana­sius, the great op­po­nent of both heresy and pa­gan rcac­tion, worked and tri­umphed. As na­tive in­flu­ences, how­ev­er, be­gan to re­assert them­selves in the Nile val­ley, Alexan­dria grad­ual­ly be­came an alien city, more and more de­tached from Egypt; and, los­ing much of its com­merce as the peace of the em­pire broke up dur­ing the 3rd cen­tu­ry A.D., it de­clined fast in pop­ula­tion and splen­dour. The Brucheum, and Jew­ish quar­ters were des­olate in the 5th cen­tu­ry, and the cen­tral mon­uments, the So­ma and Mu­se­um, fall­en to ru­in. On the main­land life seems to have cen­tred in the vicin­ity of the Ser­apeum and Cae­sareum, both be­come Chris­tian church­es: but the Pharos and Hep­tas­ta­di­um quar­ters re­mained pop­ulous and in­tact. In 616 it was tak­en by Chos­roes, king of Per­sia; and in 640 by the Ara­bi­ans, un­der `Amr, af­ter a siege that last­ed four­teen months, dur­ing which Her­aclius, the em­per­or of Con­stantino­ple, did not send a sin­gle ship to its as­sis­tance. Notwith­stand­ing the loss­es that the city had sus­tained, `Amr was able to write to his mas­ter, the caliph Omar, that he had tak­en a city con­tain­ing “4000 palaces, 4000 baths, 12,000 deal­ers in fresh oil, 12,000 gar­den­ers, 40,000 Jews who pay trib­ute, 400 the­atres or places of amuse­ment.”

The sto­ry of the de­struc­tion of the li­brary by the Arabs is first told by Bar-​he­braeus (Ab­ul­farag­ius), a Chris­tian writ­er who lived six cen­turies lat­er; and it is of very doubt­ful au­thor­ity. It is high­ly im­prob­able that many of the 700,000 vol­umes col­lect­ed by the Ptolemies re­mained at the time of the Arab con­quest, when the var­ious calami­ties of Alexan­dria from the time of Cae­sar to that of Dio­cle­tian are con­sid­ered, to­geth­er with the dis­grace­ful pil­lage of the li­brary in A.D. 389 un­der the rule of the Chris­tian bish­op, Theophilus, act­ing on Theo­do­sius’ de­cree con­cern­ing pa­gan mon­um­cnts (see LI­BRARIES: An­cient His­to­ry). The sto­ry of Ab­ul­farag­ius runs as fol­lows:–

John the Gram­mar­ian, a fa­mous Peri­patet­ic philoso­pher, be­ing in Alexan­dria at the time of its cap­ture, and in high favour with `Amr, begged that he would give him the roy­al li­brary. `Amr told him that it was not in his pow­er to grant such a re­quest, but promised to write to the caliph for his con­sent. Omar, on hear­ing the re­quest of his gen­er­al, is said to have replied that if those books con­tained the same doc­trine with the Ko­ran, they could be of no use, since the Ko­ran con­tained all nec­es­sary truths; but if they con­tained any­thing con­trary to that book, they ought to be de­stroyed; and there­fore, what­ev­er their con­tents were, he or­dered them to be burnt. Pur­suant to this or­der, they were dis­tribut­ed among the pub­lic baths, of which there was a large num­ber in the city, where, for six months, they served to sup­ply the fires.

Short­ly af­ter its cap­ture Alexan­dria again fell in­to the hands of the Greeks, who took ad­van­tage of `Amr’s ab­sence with the greater por­tion of his army. On hear­ing what had hap­pened, how­ev­er, `Amr re­turned, and quick­ly re­gained pos­ses­sion of the city. About the year 646 `Amr was de­prived of his gov­ern­ment by the caliph Oth­man. The Egyp­tians, by whom `Amr was great­ly beloved, were so much dis­sat­is­fied by this act, and even showed such a ten­den­cy to re­volt, that the Greek em­per­or de­ter­mined to make an ef­fort to re­duce Alexan­dria. The at­tempt proved per­fect­ly suc­cess­ful. The caliph, per­ceiv­ing his mis­take, im­me­di­ate­ly re­stored `Amr, who, on his ar­rival in Egypt, drove the Greeks with­in the walls of Alexan­dria, but was on­ly able to cap­ture the city af­ter a most ob­sti­nate re­sis­tance by the de­fend­ers. This so ex­as­per­at­ed him that he com­plete­ly de­mol­ished its for­ti­fi­ca­tions, al­though he seems to have spared the lives of the in­hab­itants as far as lay in his pow­er. Alexan­dria now rapid­ly de­clined in im­por­tance. The build­ing of Cairo in 969, and, above all, the dis­cov­ery of the route to the East by the Cape of Good Hope in 1498, near­ly ru­ined its com­merce; the canal, which sup­plied it with Nile wa­ter, be­came blocked; and al­though it re­mained a prin­ci­pal Egyp­tian port, at which most Eu­ro­pean vis­itors in the Mameluke and Ot­toman pe­ri­ods land­ed, we hear lit­tle of it un­til about the be­gin­ning of the 19th cen­tu­ry.

[Alexan­dria fig­ured promi­nent­ly in the mil­itary op­er­ations of Napoleon’s Egyp­tian ex­pe­di­tion of 1798. The French troops stormed the city on the 2nd of Ju­ly 1798, and it re­mained in their hands un­til the ar­rival of the British ex­pe­di­tion of 1801. The bat­tle of Alexan­dria, fought on the 21st of March of that year, be­tween the French army un­der Gen­er­al Menou and the British ex­pe­di­tionary corps un­der Sir Ralph Aber­crom­by, took place near the ru­ins of Nicopohs, on the nar­row spit of land be­tween the sea and Lake Aboukir, along which the British troops had ad­vanced to­wards Alexan­dria af­ter the ac­tions of Aboukir on the 8th and Man­do­ra on the 13th.

Bat­tle of 1801.

The British po­si­tion on the night of the 20th ex­tend­ed across the isth­mus, the right rest­ing up­on the ru­ins of Nicopo­lis and the sea, the left on the lake of Aboukir and the Alexan­dria canal. The line faced gen­er­al­ly south-​west to­wards the city, the re­serve di­vi­sion un­der Ma­jor-​Gen­er­al (Sir) John Moore on the right, the Guards brigade in the cen­tre, and three oth­er brigades on the left. In sec­ond line were two brigades and the cav­al­ry (dis­mount­ed). On the 21st the troops were un­der arms at 3 A.M., and at 3.30 the French at­tacked and drove in the out­posts. The French army now moved for­ward with great ra­pid­ity in their usu­al for­ma­tion of columns. The brunt of the at­tack fell up­on the com­mand of Moore, and in par­tic­ular up­on the 28th (Glouces­ter­shire Reg­iment). The first shock was re­pulsed, but a French col­umn pen­etrat­ed in the dark be­tween two reg­iments of the British and a con­fused fight en­sued in the ru­ins, in which the 42nd (Black Watch) cap­tured a colour. The front and rear ranks of the 28th were si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly en­gaged, and the con­duct of the reg­iment won for it the dis­tinc­tion of wear­ing badges both at the front and at the back of their head-​dress. Oth­er reg­iments which as­sist­ed in the over­throw of the French col­umn were the 23rd, 40th and 58th. In a sec­ond at­tack the en­emy’s cav­al­ry in­flict­ed se­vere loss­es on the 42nd. Sir Ralph Aber­crom­by was here en­gaged in per­son­al con­flict with some French dra­goons, and about this time re­ceived a mor­tal wound, though he re­mained on the field and in com­mand to the end. The at­tack on the cen­tre was re­pulsed by the cool and steady fire of the Guards, and the left wing main­tained its po­si­tion with ease, but the French cav­al­ry for the sec­ond time came to close quar­ters with the re­serve. About half-​past eight the com­bat be­gan to wane, and the last shots were fired at ten. The re­al at­tack had been pressed home on the British right, and the His­to­ry of the Queen’s Roy­al West Sur­rey Reg­iment gives no un­due praise to the reg­iments of the re­serve in say­ing that “the de­ter­mined at­tack would have been suc­cess­ful against al­most any oth­er troops.” Tech­ni­cal­ly, the de­tails of the ac­tion show that, while not marked­ly bet­ter in a melee than the war-​sea­soned French, the British in­fantry had in its vol­leys a pow­er which no oth­er troops then ex­ist­ing pos­sessed, and it was these vol­leys that de­cid­ed the day even more than the in­di­vid­ual stub­born­ness of the men. The 42nd, twice charged by cav­al­ry, had but thir­teen men wound­ed by the sabre. Part of the French loss­es, which were dis­pro­por­tion­ate­ly heavy, were caused by the gun­boats which lay close in­shore and can­non­ad­ed the left flank of the French columns, and by a heavy naval gun which was placed in bat­tery near the po­si­tion of the 28th. The forces en­gaged on this day mere ap­prox­imate­ly 14,000 British to about 20,000 French, and the loss­es were:– British, 1468 killed, wound­ed and miss­ing, in­clud­ing Aber­crom­by (who died on the 28th), Moore and three oth­er gen­er­als wound­ed; French, 1160 killed and (?) 3000 wound­ed. The British sub­se­quent­ly ad­vanced up­on Alexan­dria, which sur­ren­dered on the 31st of Au­gust. (C. F. A.)

Mod­ern city.

Dur­ing the an­ar­chy which ac­com­pa­nied Ot­toman rule in Egypt from first to last, Alexan­dria sank to a small town of about 4000 in­hab­itants; and it owed its mod­ern re­nascence sole­ly to Mehemet Ali, who want­ed a deep port and naval sta­tion for his vicere­gal do­main. He re­stored its wa­ter com­mu­ni­ca­tion with the Nile by mak­ing the Mah­mudiya canal, fin­ished in 1820; and he es­tab­lished at Ras et-​Tin his favourite res­idence. The Old Eu­nos­tus har­bour be­came the port, and a flour­ish­ing city arose on the old Pharos is­land and the Hep­tas­ta­di­um dis­trict, with out­ly­ing sub­urbs and vil­la res­idences along the coast east­wards and the Mareot­ic shore. Be­ing the start­ing-​point of the “over­land route” to In­dia, and the res­idence of the chief for­eign con­suls, it quick­ly ac­quired a Eu­ro­pean char­ac­ter and at­tract­ed not on­ly Frank res­idents, but great num­bers of Greeks, Jews and Syr­ians. There most of the ne­go­ti­ations be­tween the pow­ers and Mehemet All were con­duct­ed; thence start­ed the Egyp­tian naval ex­pe­di­tions to Crete, the Morea and Syr­ia; and thith­er sailed the be­trayed Ot­toman fleet in 1839. It was twice threat­ened by hos­tile fleets, the Greek in 1827 and the com­bined British, French and Rus­sian squadrons in 1828. The lat­ter with­drew on the viceroy’s promise that Ibrahim should evac­uate the Morea. The for­ti­fi­ca­tions were strength­ened in 1841, and re­mained in an an­ti­quat­ed con­di­tion un­til 1882, when they were ren­ovat­ed by Ara­bi Pasha. Alexan­dria was con­nect­ed with Cairo by rail­way in 1856. Much favoured by the ear­li­er viceroys of Mehemet Ali’s house, and re­moved from the Mameluke trou­bles, Alexan­dria was the re­al cap­ital of Egypt till Said Pasha died there in 1863 and Is­mail came in­to pow­er. Though this prince con­tin­ued to de­vel­op the city, giv­ing it a mu­nic­ipal­ity in 18661 and new har­bour works in 1871-1878, he de­vel­oped Cairo still more; and the cen­tre of grav­ity def­inite­ly shift­ed to the in­land cap­ital.

Bom­bard­ment of 1882.

Fate, how­ev­er, again brought Alexan­dria to the front. Af­ter a mutiny of sol­diers there in 1881, the town was great­ly ex­cit­ed by the ar­rival of an An­glo-​French fleet in May 1882, and on the 11th of June a ter­ri­ble ri­ot and mas­sacre took place, re­sult­ing in the death of four hun­dred Eu­ro­peans. Since sat­is­fac­tion was not giv­en for this and the forts were be­ing strength­ened at the in­sti­ga­tion of Ara­bi Pasha, the war min­is­ter, the British ad­mi­ral, Sir Beauchamp Sey­mour (af­ter­wards Lord Al­ces­ter), sent an ul­ti­ma­tum on the 10th of Ju­ly and opened fire on the forts the next day. They were de­mol­ished, but as no troops were land­ed im­me­di­ate­ly a fresh ri­ot and mas­sacre en­sued. As Ara­bi did not sub­mit, a British mil­itary ex­pe­di­tion land­ed at Alexan­dria on the 10th of Au­gust, the se­quel be­ing the British oc­cu­pa­tion of the whole coun­try, the his­to­ry of which is set forth un­der EGYPT.

Since the restora­tion of tran­quil­li­ty and the es­tab­lish­ment of sound po­lit­ical and eco­nom­ic con­di­tions in the Nile val­ley, Alexan­dria has great­ly ex­pand­ed. As the British con­sular re­port for 1904 says, “Build­ing . . . for res­iden­tial and oth­er pur­pos­es pro­ceeds with al­most fever­ish ra­pid­ity. The cost of liv­ing has dou­bled and the price of land has risen enor­mous­ly.” On the E. and S.E. a new town of hand­some hous­es, gar­dens and boule­vards has been called in­to ex­is­tence, in the ar­range­ment of which the con­trol­ling in­flu­ence of the mu­nic­ipal­ity is ev­ident (see Mod­ern Gi­ty above).

IV. An­tiq­ui­ties.–Per­sis­tent ef­forts have been made to ex­plore the an­tiq­ui­ties of Alexan­dria. En­cour­age­ment and help have been giv­en by the lo­cal Ar­chae­olog­ical So­ci­ety, and by many in­di­vid­uals, no­tably Greeks just­ly proud of a city which is one of the glo­ries of their na­tion­al sto­ry. The past and present di­rec­tors of the mu­se­um have been en­abled from time to time to car­ry out sys­tem­at­ic ex­ca­va­tions when op­por­tu­ni­ty of­fered; Mr D. G. Hog­arth made ten­ta­tive re­search­es on be­half of the Egypt Ex­plo­ration Fund and the So­ci­ety for the Pro­mo­tion of Hel­lenic Stud­ies in 1895; and a Ger­man ex­pe­di­tion worked for two years (1898-1899). But two dif­fi­cul­ties face the would-​be ex­ca­va­tor in Alexan­dria. First, since the great and grow­ing mod­ern city stands right over the an­cient one, it is al­most im­pos­si­ble to find any con­sid­er­able space in which to dig, ex­cept at enor­mous cost. Sec­ond, the gen­er­al sub­si­dence of the coast has sunk the low­er-​ly­ing parts of the an­cient town un­der wa­ter. Un­for­tu­nate­ly the spaces still most open are the low grounds to N.E. and S.W., where it is prac­ti­cal­ly im­pos­si­ble to get be­low the Ro­man stra­ta.

The most im­por­tant re­sults were those achieved by Dr G. Bot­ti, late di­rec­tor Of the mu­se­um, in the neigh­bour­hood of “Pom­pey’s Pil­lar,” where there is a good deal of open ground. Here sub­struc­tures of a large build­ing or group of build­ings have been ex­posed, which are per­haps part of the Ser­apeum. Hard by im­mense cat­acombs and colum­baria have been opened which may have been ap­pendages of the tem­ple. These con­tain one very re­mark­able vault with cu­ri­ous paint­ed re­liefs, now light­ed by elec­tric­ity and shown to vis­itors. The ob­jects found in these re­search­es are in the mu­se­um, the most no­table be­ing a great basalt bull, prob­ably once an ob­ject of cult in the Ser­apeum. Oth­er cat­acombs and tombs have been opened in Ko­re es-​Shugafa Hadra (Ro­man) and Ras et-​Tin (paint­ed). The Ger­mans found re­mains of a Ptole­ma­ic colon­nade and streets in the north-​east of the city, but lit­tle else. Mr Hog­arth ex­plored part of an im­mense brick struc­ture un­der the mound of Kom ed-​Dik, which may have been part of the Pa­neum, the Mau­solea or a Ro­man fortress. The mak­ing of the new fore­shore led to the dredg­ing up of re­mains of the Pa­tri­ar­chal Church; and the foun­da­tions of mod­ern build­ings are sel­dom laid with­out some ob­jects of an­tiq­ui­ty be­ing dis­cov­ered. The wealth un­der­ground is doubt­less im­mense; but, de­spite all ef­forts, there is not much for an­ti­quar­ians to see in Alexan­dria out­side the mu­se­um and the neigh­bour­hood of “Pom­pey’s Pil­lar.” The na­tive tomb- rob­bers, well-​sinkers, dredgers and the like, how­ev­er, come up­on valu­able ob­jects from time to time, which find their way in­to pri­vate col­lec­tions.

BIB­LI­OG­RA­PHY.–(1) Mod­ern City. See lat­est edi­tions of guide­books to Low­er Egypt (Baedek­er, Mur­ray, Macmil­lan). (2) His­to­ry. See au­thor­ities for his­to­ry of EGYPT. (3) An­cient City and An­tiq­ui­ties. Mah­mud Bey el Fal­la­ki, Mem­oire sur l’an­tique Alexan­drie (1872); T. D. Ner­out­sos, L’A nci­enne A lexan­drie ( I 888) D.G. Hog­arth and E. F. Ben­son, Re­port on Prospects of Re­search in Alexan­dria Egypt Ex­pl. Fund Ar­chae­olog­ical Re­port, 1894-1895); Bul­letin de la So­ci­ete Arche­ologique d’Alexan­drie(1898 foll.); O. Puch­stein in Pauly- Wis­sowa, Realen­cy­clopadie, s.v. “Alexan­dria”; U. Wilck­en, Ob­ser­va­tiones ad his­to­ri­am Egyp­ti Provin­ci­ae Ro­manae (1885); G. Lum­broso, L’Egit­to al tem­po dei Gre­ci e dei Ro­mani (1882); H. Kiepert, Zur To­pogra­phie des al­ten Alexan­dria (1872). (D. G. H.)

1 This mu­nic­ipal­ity was su­per­seded by a new mu­nic­ipal body, with ex­ten­sive pow­ers, cre­at­ed in 1890.

ALEXAN­DRIA, a city of Madi­son coun­ty, In­di­ana, U.S.A., about 46 m. N.E. of In­di­anapo­lis. Pop. (1890) 715; (1900) 7221, (1002 for­eign-​born); (1910) 5096. Alexan­dria is served by the Cleve­land, Cincin­nati, Chica­go & St Louis, and the Lake Erie & West­ern rail­ways, and by the In­di­ana Union Trac­tion Sys­tem (elec­tric). In the city are a Carnegie li­brary and Beu­lah Park (24 acres), the lat­ter be­long­ing to the North­ern In­di­ana Ho­li­ness As­so­ci­ation, which there holds sum­mer camp-​meet­ings. The city is in a rich farm­ing coun­try, which pro­duces In­di­an corn, oats and wheat; and is in the In­di­ana nat­ural gas re­gion, to which fact it owes its rapid growth as a man­ufac­tur­ing cen­tre. It is one of the prin­ci­pal seats of the glass in­dus­try in In­di­ana– plate glass, lamp chim­neys, mir­rors, &c., be­ing man­ufac­tured here–and al­so has min­er­al wool fac­to­ries and pa­per mills. The mu­nic­ipal­ity owns and op­er­ates the wa­ter-​works and the gas-​light­ing plant. Alexan­dria was found­ed in 1836 and was char­tered as a city in 1893.

ALEXAN­DRIA, a city of Louisiana, U.S.A., cap­ital of Rapi­des Parish, on the S. bank of the Red riv­er in al­most the ex­act ge­ograph­ical cen­tre of the state. Pop. (1890) 2861; (1900) 5648 (3142 ne­groes); (1910) 11,213. The city is served by the Louisiana Rail­way & Nav­iga­tion Com­pa­ny, the St Louis, Watkins & Gulf, the Texas & Pa­cif­ic, the Louisiana & Arkansas, the South­ern Pa­cif­ic, the Chica­go, Rock Is­land & Pa­cif­ic, and the Mis­souri Pa­cif­ic rail­ways. The Red riv­er is nav­iga­ble to Alexan­dria dur­ing the en­tire year. Alexan­dria is on a lev­el plain in the cen­tre of the Louisiana long-​leaf pine forests, in which pine is in­ter­spersed with var­ious hard­woods. The forests stretch on all sides with­in a ra­dius of 75 m. In the im­me­di­ate vicin­ity of the city, on the Red riv­er, cot­ton, sug­ar, al­fal­fa and gar­den veg­eta­bles are cul­ti­vat­ed; south of the Red riv­er is a pe­cu­liar­ly rich farm­ing coun­try wa­tered by Bay­ou Rapi­des and Bay­ou Boeuf. Near the city is the Louisiana Asy­lum for the In­sane. The prin­ci­pal in­dus­taes are cot­ton- press­ing and the man­ufac­ture of lum­ber and of cot­ton-​seed prod­ucts; sug­ar and mo­lasses, ar­ti­fi­cial ice, min­er­al wa­ters and brick are oth­er man­ufac­tures. The city owns and op­er­ates the wa­ter-​works and elec­tric-​light­ing plant; the wa­ter-​sup­ply is de­rived from arte­sian wells. Alexan­dria was named in hon­our of Alexan­der Ful­ton, on whose grant from Spain the first set­tle­ment was made in 1785; it was first in­cor­po­rat­ed as a town in 1818 and re­ceived a city char­ter in 1882. In the spring of 1863 a Union fleet un­der Ad­mi­ral David D. Porter, op­er­at­ing on the Red riv­er, co-​op­er­at­ed with land forces un­der Gen­er­al N. P. Banks in push­ing the Con­fed­er­ates west­ward. Alexan­dria was oc­cu­pied on the 7th of May 1863, but the troops were soon with­drawn for the Port Hud­son at­tack. On the 19th of March 1864 it was again oc­cu­pied by the Union forces, who made it the point of con­cen­tra­tion for an­oth­er land and naval ex­pe­di­tion against E. Kir­by Smith and Shreve­port. Af­ter the check of this ex­pe­di­tion and its aban­don­ment, Alexan­dria was again va­cat­ed on the 12th-13th of May, when the city was al­most en­tire­ly burned. The Union gun­boats, which had passed up the riv­er to­ward Shreve­port at high wa­ter, were caught in its de­cline above the falls at Alexan­dria, but they were saved by a splen­did piece of en­gi­neer­ing (a dam at the falls), con­struct­ed by Lieu­tenant-​Colonel Joseph Bai­ley (1827-1867), who for this ser­vice re­ceived the thanks of Congress and the brevet of brigadier-​gen­er­al of vol­un­teers.

ALEXAN­DRIA, a town of Ru­ma­nia, sit­uat­ed among the rich corn-​lands of the Tele­or­man de­part­ment, on the right bank of the riv­er Vedea. Pop. (1900) 13,675. Its chief trade is in grain, despatched by rail to the Danu­bian port of Zimnicea, or by riv­er to Giurge­vo. Alexan­dria was named af­ter its founder, Alexan­der John Cuza, prince of Ru­ma­nia from 1859 to 1866.

ALEXAN­DRIA, a man­ufac­tur­ing town of Dum­bar­ton­shire, Scot­land, sit­uat­ed on the right bank of the Lev­en about 3 m. north of Dum­bar­ton, on the North British and Cale­do­nian rail­ways. It owes its ori­gin al­most en­tire­ly to the cot­ton print­ing and bleach­ing works of the vicin­ity, for which there is an abun­dant sup­ply of ex­cel­lent wa­ter, and con­tains one of the largest of the Turkey-​red dye­ing es­tab­lish­ments in the Vale of Lev­en. The pub­lic build­ings in­clude a pub­lic hall, the me­chan­ics’ in­sti­tute with li­brary and lec­ture-​hall, an in­sti­tute for men, with li­brary and recre­ation rooms, a sim­ilar in­sti­tu­tion for wom­en, banks and oth­er im­por­tant com­mer­cial of­fices. Pop. (1891) 7796; (1901) 8007. Alexan­dria is con­nect­ed with BON­HILL, on the op­po­site bank of the riv­er, by a bridge which re­placed in 1898 one bought three years ear­li­er by the coun­ty coun­cil from the Smol­lett fam­ily, who have been close­ly as­so­ci­at­ed with the dis­trict since the time of Sir James Smol­lett, the nov­el­ist’s grand­fa­ther. The in­dus­tries of Bon­hill cen­tre in the cal­ico print­ing, dye­ing and bleach­ing which find their head­quar­ters in the val­ley. Pop­ula­tion (1891) 3843; (1901) 3333. JAMESTOWN, about 1 m. to the north-​east of Alexan­dria, with a sta­tion on the Forth & Clyde rail­way from Bal­loch to Stir­ling (North British), con­tains some of the largest cot­ton-​print­ing works in Scot­land. Pop­ula­tion (1891) 1668; (1901) 2080.

ALEXAN­DRIA, a city and a port of en­try of Alexan­dria coun­ty, Vir­ginia, U.S.A., on the W. bank of the Po­tomac riv­er, 6 m. be­low Wash­ing­ton, D.C., with which it is con­nect­ed by a fer­ry. Pop. (1890) 14,339; (1900) 14,528, of whom 4533 were ne­groes; (1910, cen­sus), 15,329. Alexan­dria is served by the Bal­ti­more & Ohio, the Chesa­peake & Ohio, the South­ern and the Wash­ing­ton South­ern rail­ways; by the Wash­ing­ton, Alexan­dria & Mount Ver­non elec­tric rail­way; and by sev­er­al lines of riv­er and coast­ing steam­boats. It is a quaint, old-​fash­ioned city, with qui­et, shady streets, and a num­ber of build­ings dat­ing back to the 18th cen­tu­ry; of these the most in­ter­est­ing is the old Christ Church in which George Wash­ing­ton and Robert E. Lee wor­shipped. The city has a pub­lic li­brary. About 2 1/2 m. W. of Alexan­dria is the Protes­tant Epis­co­pal The­olog­ical Sem­inary in Vir­ginia, opened here in 1823 and char­tered in 1854; in 1906-1907 the Sem­inary had a fac­ul­ty of 7 and 46 stu­dents. Alexan­dria is a dis­tribut­ing and job­bing cen­tre for the north-​east coun­ties of Vir­ginia. Among its man­ufac­tures are fer­til­iz­ers, bot­tles, car­bon­at­ed bev­er­ages, flour, beer, shoes, silk thread, aprons, brooms, leather, bricks, and tiling and struc­tural iron. The to­tal val­ue of its fac­to­ry prod­uct in 1905 was $2,186,658. The mu­nic­ipal­ity owns and op­er­ates its gas-​light­ing plant. Alexan­dria, first known as Bel­haven, was named in hon­our of John Alexan­der, who in the last quar­ter of the 17th cen­tu­ry had bought the land on which the city now stands from Robert How­ison; the first set­tle­ment here was made in 1695. Alexan­dria was laid out in 1749 and was in­cor­po­rat­ed in 1779. From 1790 un­til 1846 Alexan­dria coun­ty was a part of the Dis­trict of Columbia; at present the city, al­though with­in the lim­its of Alexan­dria coun­ty, is not ad­min­is­tra­tive­ly a part of it. The city was re-​char­tered in 1852. For some time Alexan­dria seemed des­tined to be­come an im­por­tant com­mer­cial cen­tre, but the rise of Wash­ing­ton cre­at­ed a ri­val that soon out­stripped it, and since the Civ­il War the city’s growth has been com­par­ative­ly slight. At Alexan­dria in 1755 Gen­er­al Ed­ward Brad­dock or­ga­nized his fa­tal ex­pe­di­tion against Fort Duquesne, and here, in April of the same year, the gov­er­nors of Vir­ginia, Mas­sachusetts, New Yfork, Penn­syl­va­nia and Mary­land met (in a house still stand­ing) to de­ter­mine up­on con­cert­ed ac­tion against the French in Amer­ica. In March 1785 com­mis­sion­ers from Vir­ginia and Mary­land met here to dis­cuss the com­mer­cial re­la­tions of the two states, fin­ish­ing their busi­ness at Mount Ver­non on the 28th with an agree­ment for free­dom of trade and free­dom of nav­iga­tion of the Po­tomac. The Mary­land leg­is­la­ture in rat­ify­ing this agree­ment on the 22nd of Novem­ber pro­posed a con­fer­ence be­tween rep­re­sen­ta­tives from all the states to con­sid­er the adop­tion of def­inite com­mer­cial reg­ula­tions. This led to the call­ing of the An­napo­lis con­ven­tion of 1786, which in turn led to the call­ing of the Fed­er­al con­ven­tion of 1787. In 1814 Alexan­dria was threat­ened by a British fleet, but bought im­mu­ni­ty from at­tack by pay­ing about $100,000. At the open­ing of the Civ­il War the city was oc­cu­pied by Fed­er­al troops, and great ex­cite­ment through­out the North was caused by the killing (May 24, 1861) of Colonel E. E. Ellsworth (1837-1861) by Cap­tain James W. Jack­son, a ho­tel pro­pri­etor, from whose build­ing Ellsworth had re­moved a Con­fed­er­ate flag. Af­ter the erec­tion of the state of West Vir­ginia (1863), and un­til the close of the war, Alexan­dria was the seat of what was known as the “Alexan­dria Gov­ern­ment” (see VIR­GINIA).

ALEXAN­DRI­AN SCHOOL. Un­der this ti­tle are gen­er­al­ly in­clud­ed cer­tain strong­ly marked ten­den­cies in lit­er­ature, sci­ence and art, which took their rise in the an­cient Egyp­tian city of Alexan­dria. That city, found­ed by Alexan­der the Great about the time when Greece, in los­ing her na­tion­al in­de­pen­dence, lost al­so her in­tel­lec­tu­al suprema­cy, was in ev­ery way ad­mirably adapt­ed for be­com­ing the new cen­tre of the world’s ac­tiv­ity and thought. Its sit­ua­tion brought it in­to com­mer­cial re­la­tions with all the na­tions ly­ing around the Mediter­ranean, and at the same time ren­dered it the one com­mu­ni­cat­ing link with the wealth and civ­iliza­tion of the East. The great nat­ural ad­van­tages it thus en­joyed were ar­ti­fi­cial­ly in­creased to an enor­mous ex­tent by the care of the sovereigns of Egypt. Ptole­my Sot­er (reigned 323-285 B.C.), to whom, in the gen­er­al dis­tri­bu­tion of Alexan­der’s con­quests, this king­dom had fall­en, be­gan to draw around him from var­ious parts of Greece a cir­cle of men em­inent in lit­er­ature and phi­los­ophy. To these he gave ev­ery fa­cil­ity for the pros­ecu­tion of their learned re­search­es. Un­der the in­spi­ra­tion of his friend Demetrius of Phalerum, the Athe­ni­an or­ator, states­man and philoso­pher, this Ptole­my laid the foun­da­tions of the great Alexan­dri­an li­brary and orig­inat­ed the keen search for all writ­ten works, which re­sult­ed in the for­ma­tion of a col­lec­tion such as the world has sel­dom seen. He al­so built, for the con­ve­nience of his men of let­ters, the Mu­se­um, in which, main­tained by the roy­al boun­ty, they resid­ed, stud­ied and taught. This Mu­se­um, or acade­my of sci­ence, was in many re­spects not un­like a mod­ern uni­ver­si­ty. The work thus be­gun by Ptole­my Sot­er was car­ried on vig­or­ous­ly by his de­scen­dants, in par­tic­ular by his two im­me­di­ate suc­ces­sors, Ptole­my Philadel­phus and Ptole­my Eu­er­getes. Philadel­phus (285-247), whose li­brar­ian was the cel­ebrat­ed Cal­li­machus, bought up all Aris­to­tle’s col­lec­tion of books, and al­so in­tro­duced a num­ber of Jew­ish and Egyp­tian works. Among these ap­pears to have been a por­tion pf the Sep­tu­agint. Eu­er­getes (247-222) large­ly in­creased the li­brary by seiz­ing on the orig­inal edi­tions of the drama­tists laid up in the Athe­ni­an archives, and by com­pelling all trav­ellers who ar­rived in Alexan­dria to leave a copy of any work they pos­sessed.

The in­tel­lec­tu­al move­ment so orig­inat­ed ex­tend­ed over a long pe­ri­od of years. If we date its rise from the 4th cen­tu­ry B.C., at the time of the fall of Greece and the foun­da­tion of the Grae­co- Mace­do­nian em­pire, we must look for its fi­nal dis­so­lu­tion in the 7th cen­tu­ry of the Chris­tian era, at the time of the fall of Alexan­dria and the rise of the Ma­hommedan pow­er. But this very long pe­ri­od falls in­to two di­vi­sions. The first, ex­tend­ing from about 306 to 30, in­cludes the time from the foun­da­tion of the Ptole­ma­ic dy­nasty to its fi­nal sub­ju­ga­tion by the Ro­mans; the sec­ond ex­tends from 30 to A.D. 642, when Alexan­dria was de­stroyed by the Arabs. The char­ac­ter­is­tic fea­tures of these di­vi­sions are very clear­ly marked, and their dif­fer­ence af­fords an ex­pla­na­tion of the va­ri­ety and vague­ness of mean­ing at­tach­ing to the term “Alexan­dri­an School.” In the first of the two pe­ri­ods the in­tel­lec­tu­al ac­tiv­ity was of a pure­ly lit­er­ary and sci­en­tif­ic na­ture. It was an at­tempt to con­tin­ue and de­vel­op, un­der new con­di­tions, the old Hel­lenic cul­ture. This di­rec­tion of ef­fort was par­tic­ular­ly no­tice­able un­der the ear­ly Ptolemies, Alexan­dria be­ing then al­most the on­ly home in the world for pure lit­er­ature. Dur­ing the last cen­tu­ry and a half be­fore the Chris­tian era, the school, as it might be called, be­gan to break up and to lose its in­di­vid­ual­ity. This was due part­ly to the state of gov­ern­ment un­der some of the lat­er Ptolemies, part­ly to the for­ma­tion of new lit­er­ary cir­cles in Rhodes, Syr­ia and else­where, whose sup­port­ers, though re­tain­ing the Alexan­dri­an pe­cu­liar­ities, could scarce­ly be in­clud­ed in the Alexan­dri­an school. The loss of ac­tive life, con­se­quent on this grad­ual dis­so­lu­tion, was much in­creased when Alexan­dria fell un­der Ro­man sway. Then the in­flu­ence of the school was ex­tend­ed over the whole known world, but men of let­ters be­gan to con­cen­trate at Rome rather than at Alexan­dria. In that city, how­ev­er, there were new forces in op­er­ation which pro­duced a sec­ond grand out­burst of in­tel­lec­tu­al life. The new move­ment was not in the old di­rec­tion–had, in­deed, noth­ing in com­mon with it. With its char­ac­ter large­ly de­ter­mined by Jew­ish el­ements, and even more by con­tact with the dog­mas of Chris­tian­ity, this sec­ond Alexan­dri­an school re­sult­ed in the spec­ula­tive phi­los­ophy of the Neo-​Pla­ton­ists and the re­li­gious phi­los­ophy of the Gnos­tics and ear­ly church fa­thers.

There ap­pear, there­fore, to be at least two def­inite sig­ni­fi­ca­tions of the ti­tle Alexan­dri­an School; or rather, there are two Alexan­dri­an schools, dis­tinct both chrono­log­ical­ly and in sub­stance. The one is the Alexan­dri­an school of po­et­ry and sci­ence, the oth­er the Alexan­dri­an school of phi­los­ophy. The term “school,” how­ev­er, has not the same mean­ing as when ap­plied to the Aca­demics or Peri­patet­ics, the Sto­ics or Epi­cure­ans. These con­sist­ed of a com­pa­ny unit­ed by hold­ing in com­mon cer­tain spec­ula­tive prin­ci­ples, by hav­ing the same the­ory of things. There was noth­ing at all cor­re­spond­ing to this among the Alexan­dri­ans. In lit­er­ature their ac­tiv­ities were di­rect­ed to the most di­verse ob­jects; they have on­ly in com­mon a cer­tain spir­it or form. There was among them no def­inite sys­tem of phl­los­ophy. Even in the lat­er schools of phi­los­ophy prop­er there is found a com­mu­ni­ty rather of ten­den­cy than of def­inite re­sult or of fixed prin­ci­ples.

I. Lit­er­ature.–The gen­er­al char­ac­ter of the lit­er­ature of the school ap­pears as the nec­es­sary con­se­quence of the state of af­fairs brought about by the fall of Greek na­tion­al­ity and in­de­pen­dence. The great works of the Greek mind had for­mer­ly been the prod­ucts of a fresh life of na­ture and per­fect free­dom of thought. All their hymns, epics and his­to­ries were bound up with their in­di­vid­ual­ity as a free peo­ple. But the Mace­do­nian con­quest at Chaeroneia brought about a com­plete dis­so­lu­tion of this Greek life in all its re­la­tions, pri­vate and po­lit­ical. The full, ge­nial spir­it of Greek thought van­ished when free­dom, with which it was in­sep­ara­bly unit­ed, was lost. A sub­sti­tute for this orig­inal­ity was found at Alexan­dria in learned re­search, ex­tend­ed and mul­ti­far­ious knowl­edge. Am­ply pro­vid­ed with means for ac­quir­ing in­for­ma­tion, and un­der the watch­ful care of a great monarch, the Alexan­dri­ans read­ily took this new di­rec­tion in lit­er­ature. With all the great ob­jects re­moved which could ex­cite a true spir­it of po­et­ry, they de­vot­ed them­selves to minute re­search­es in all sci­ences sub­or­di­nate to lit­er­ature prop­er. They stud­ied crit­icism, gram­mar, prosody and me­tre, an­tiq­ui­ties and mythol­ogy. The re­sults of this study con­stant­ly ap­pear in their pro­duc­tions. Their works are nev­er na­tion­al, nev­er ad­dressed to a peo­ple, but to a cir­cle of learned men. More­over, the very fact of be­ing un­der the pro­tec­tion and, as it were, in the pay of an ab­so­lute monarch was dam­ag­ing to the char­ac­ter of their lit­er­ature. There was in­tro­duced in­to it a courtjy el­ement, clear traces of which, with all its ac­com­pa­ni­ments, are found in the ex­tant works of the school. One oth­er fact, not to be for­got­ten in form­ing a gen­er­al es­ti­mate of the lit­er­ary val­ue of their pro­duc­tions, is, that the same writ­er was fre­quent­ly or al­most al­ways dis­tin­guished in sev­er­al spe­cial sci­ences. The most renowned po­ets were at the same time men of cul­ture and sci­ence, crit­ics, ar­chae­ol­ogists, as­tronomers or physi­cians. To such writ­ers the po­et­ical form was mere­ly a con­ve­nient ve­hi­cle for the ex­po­si­tion of sci­ence.

The forms of po­et­ical com­po­si­tion chiefly cul­ti­vat­ed by the Alexan­dri­ans were epic and lyric, or ele­giac. Great epics are want­ing; but in their place, as might al­most have been ex­pect­ed, are found the his­tor­ical and the di­dac­tic or ex­pos­ito­ry epics. The sub­jects of the his­tor­ical epics were gen­er­al­ly some of the well-​known myths, in the ex­po­si­tion of which the writ­er could ex­hib­it the full ex­tent of his learn­ing and his per­fect com­mand of verse. These po­ems are in a sense valu­able as reper­toires of an­tiq­ui­ties; but their style is on the whole bad, and in­fi­nite pa­tience is re­quired to clear up their nu­mer­ous and ob­scure al­lu­sions. The best ex­tant spec­imen is the Arg­onau­ti­ca of Apol­lo­nius Rhodius; the most char­ac­ter­is­tic is the Alexan­dra or Cas­san­dra of Ly­cophron, the ob­scu­ri­ty of which is al­most prover­bial.

The sub­jects of di­dac­tic epics were very nu­mer­ous; they seem to have de­pend­ed on the spe­cial knowl­edge pos­sessed by the writ­ers, who used verse as a form for un­fold­ing their in­for­ma­tion. Some, e.g. the lost po­em of Cal­li­machus, called Ai’tia, were on the ori­gin of myths and re­li­gious ob­ser­vances; oth­ers were on spe­cial sci­ences. Thus we have two po­ems of Ara­tus, who, though not res­ident at Alexan­dria, was so thor­ough­ly im­bued with the Alexan­dri­an spir­it as to be with rea­son in­clud­ed in the school; the one is an es­say on as­tron­omy, the oth­er an ac­count of the signs of the weath­er. Nican­der of Colophon has al­so left us two epics, one on reme­dies for poi­sons, the oth­er on the bites of ven­omous beasts. Eu­phori­on and Rhi­anus wrote mytho­log­ical epics. The spir­it of all their pro­duc­tions is the same, that of learned re­search. They are dis­tin­guished by artis­tic form, pu­ri­ty of ex­pres­sion and strict at­ten­tion to the laws of me­tre and prosody, qual­ities which, how­ev­er good in them­selves, do not com­pen­sate for want of orig­inal­ity, fresh­ness and pow­er.

In their lyric and ele­giac po­et­ry there is much wor­thy of ad­mi­ra­tion. The spec­imens we pos­sess are not de­void of tal­ent or of a cer­tain hap­py art of ex­pres­sion. Yet, for the most part, they ei­ther re­late to ob­jects thor­ough­ly in­ca­pable of po­et­ic treat­ment, where the writ­er’s en­deav­our is rather to ex­pound the mat­ter ful­ly than to ren­der it po­et­ical­ly beau­ti­ful, or else ex­pend them­selves on short iso­lat­ed sub­jects, gen­er­al­ly myths, and are erot­ic in char­ac­ter. The ear­li­est of the ele­giac po­ets was Phile­tas, the sweet singer of Cos. But the most dis­tin­guished was Cal­li­machus, un­doubt­ed­ly the great­est of the Alexan­dri­an po­ets. Of his nu­mer­ous works there re­main to us on­ly a few hymns, epi­grams and frag­ments of ele­gies.1 Oth­er lyric po­ets were Phan­ocles, Her­me­sianax, Alexan­der of Ae­tol­la and Ly­cophron.

Some of the best pro­duc­tions of the school were their epi­rams. Of these we have sev­er­al spec­imens, and the art of com­pos­ing them seems to have been as­sid­uous­ly cul­ti­vat­ed, as might nat­ural­ly be ex­pect­ed from the court life of the po­ets, and their con­stant en­deav­ours af­ter terse­ness and neat­ness of ex­pres­sion. Of kin­dred char­ac­ter were the par­odies and satir­ical po­ems, of which the best ex­am­ples were the Sil­li of Ti­mon and the Cinae­di of So­tades.

Dra­mat­ic po­et­ry ap­pears to have flour­ished to some ex­tent. There are still ex­tant three or four vary­ing lists of the sev­en great drama­tists who com­posed the Pleiad of Alexan­dria. Their works, per­haps not un­for­tu­nate­ly, have per­ished. A rud­er kind of dra­ma, the amoe­baean verse, or bu­col­ic mime, de­vel­oped in­to the on­ly pure stream of ge­nial po­et­ry found in the Alexan­dri­an School, the Idylls of The­ocri­tus. The name of these po­ems pre­serves their orig­inal idea; they were pic­tures of fresh coun­try life.

The most in­ter­est­ing fact con­nect­ed with this Alexan­dri­an po­et­ry is the pow­er­ful in­flu­ence it ex­er­cised on Ro­man lit­er­ature. That lit­er­ature, es­pe­cial­ly in the Au­gus­tan age, is not to be thor­ough­ly un­der­stood with­out due ap­pre­ci­ation of the char­ac­ter of the Alexan­dri­an school. The his­to­ri­ans of this pe­ri­od were nu­mer­ous and pro­lif­ic. Many of them, e.g. Cleitarchus, de­vot­ed them­selves to the life and achieve­ments of Alexan­der the Great. The best-​known names are those of Timaeus and Poly­bius.

Be­fore the Alexan­dri­ans had be­gun to pro­duce orig­inal works, their re­search­es were di­rect­ed to­wards the mas­ter­pieces of an­cient Greek lit­er­ature. If that lit­er­ature was to be a pow­er in the world, it must be hand­ed down to pos­ter­ity in a form ca­pa­ble of be­ing un­der­stood. This was the task be­gun and car­ried out by the Alexan­dri­an crit­ics. These men did not mere­ly col­lect works, but sought to ar­range them, to sub­ject the texts to crit­icism, and to ex­plain any al­lu­sion or ref­er­ence in them which at a lat­er date might be­come ob­scure. The com­plete philo­log­ical ex­am­ina­tion of any work con­sist­ed, ac­cord­ing to them, of the fol­low­ing pro­cess­es:—diortho­sis, ar­range­ment of the text; anag­no­sis, set­tle­ment of ac­cents; tenn??, the­ory of forms, syn­tax; lx­eg­nsis, ex­pla­na­tion ei­ther of words or things; and fi­nal­ly, kri­sis, judg­ment on the au­thor and his work, in­clud­ing all ques­tions as to au­then­tic­ity and in­tegri­ty. To per­form their task ad­equate­ly re­quired from the crit­ics a wide cir­cle of knowl­edge; and from this re­quire­ment sprang the sci­ences of gram