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The Project Gutenberg Encyclopedia Volume 1 of 28 by Project Gutenberg - Pages 2471-2960

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The Project Gutenberg Encyclopedia Volume 1 of 28

Among Phaeo­phyceae it is well known that the oospore of Fu­caceae ger­mi­nates di­rect­ly in­to the sex­ual plant, and there is thus on­ly one gen­er­ation. More­over, it is known that the re­duc­tion in the num­ber of chro­mo­somes which oc­curs at the ini­ti­ation of the ga­me­to­phyte gen­er­ation in Pteri­do­phy­ta oc­curs in the cul­mi­nat­ing stage of Fu­cus, where the oogo­ni­um is sep­arat­ed from the stalk-​cell, so that un­less it be con­tend­ed that the Fu­cus is re­al­ly a sporo­phyte which does not pro­duce spores, and that the ga­me­to­phyte is rep­re­sent­ed mere­ly by the oogo­ni­um and an­therid­ium, there is no sem­blance of al­ter­na­tion of gen­er­ation in this case. The on­ly case among Phaeo­phyceae which has been con­sid­ered to point to the ex­is­tence of such a phe­nomenon is Cut­le­ria. Here the asex­ual cells are borne up­on the so-​called Aglao­zo­nia rep­tans and the sex­ual cells up­on the plants known as Cut­le­ria. The spores of the Aglao­zo­nia form are known to give rise to sex­ual plants, and the oospore of Cut­le­ria has been ob­served to grow in­to rudi­men­ta­ry Aglao­zo­nia. Lat­ter­ly, how­ev­er, as the re­sult of the cy­to­log­ical in­ves­ti­ga­tions of Mot­tler and Lloyd Williams, great ad­vance has been made in our knowl­edge of the con­di­tions ex­ist­ing in Dic­ty­ota. Mot­tler first ob­served that a re­duc­tion in the num­ber takes place in the moth­er-​cells of the tetraspore. It will be re­mem­bered that, as in most Florideae, the male, fe­male and asex­ual plants are dis­tinct in this genus. Mot­tler’s ob­ser­va­tion has been con­firmed by Lloyd Williams, who has shown, more­over, that the sin­gle num­ber oc­curs in germlings from the tetraspore, and al­so in the adult stages of all sex­ual plants, while the dou­ble num­ber oc­curs in germlings from the oospore, and in adult stages of all asex­ual plants. It is prob­able, there­fore, that we have here a sharp al­ter­na­tion of gen­er­ations, both gen­er­ations be­ing, how­ev­er, pre­cise­ly sim­ilar to the eye up to point of re­pro­duc­tion. Among Chloro­phyceae it is of­ten the case that the oospore on ger­mi­na­tion di­vides up di­rect­ly to form a brood of zoospores. In Coleochaete this seems to be pre­ced­ed by the for­ma­tion of a minute parenchy­ma­tous mass, in each cell of which a zoospore is pro­duced. In Sphaero­plea it is on­ly at this stage that zoospores are formed at all; but in most cas­es, such as Oe­do­gogo­ni­um, Ulothrix, Coleochaete, sim­ilar zoospores are pro­duced again and again up­on the thal­lus, and the prod­uct of the oospore may be re­gard­ed as mere­ly a first brood of a se­ries. It has been held by some, how­ev­er, that the first brood cor­re­sponds to the sporo­phyte gen­er­ation of the high­er plants, and that the rest of the cy­cle is the ga­me­to­phyte gen­er­ation. Were the case of Sphaero­plea to stand alone, the phe­nomenon might per­haps be re­gard­ed as an al­ter­na­tion of gen­er­ations, but still on­ly com­pa­ra­ble with the case of Ban­gia, and not the case of the Florideae. But it is dif­fi­cult to ap­ply such a term at all to those cas­es in which there in­ter­vene be­tween the oospore and the next sex­ual stage a se­ries of gen­er­ations, the zoospores of which are all pre­cise­ly sim­ilar.

Poly­mor­phism.

The dif­fi­cul­ty of trac­ing the re­la­tion­ships of al­gae is large­ly due to the in­ad­equa­cy of our knowl­edge of the con­di­tions un­der which they pass through the cru­cial stages of their life-​cy­cle. Of the thou­sands of species which have been dis­tin­guished, rel­ative­ly few have been traced from spore to spore, as the flow­er­ing plants have been ob­served from seed to seed. The aquat­ic habit of most of the species and the minute size of many of them are dif­fi­cul­ties which do not ex­ist in the case of most seed-​plants. From the anal­ogy of the high­er plants ob­servers have just­ly ar­gued that when they have seen and marked the char­ac­ters of the re­pro­duc­tive or­gans they have found the plant at the stage when it ex­hibits its most note­wor­thy fea­tures, and they have named and clas­si­fied the species in ac­cor­dance with these ob­ser­va­tions. While even in such cas­es it is ob­vi­ous that in­ter­est­ing stages in the life of the plant may es­cape no­tice al­to­geth­er, in the cas­es of those plants the re­pro­duc­tion of which is un­known, and which have been named and placed on the anal­ogy of the veg­eta­tive parts alone, there is con­sid­er­able dan­ger that a plant may be named as a dis­tinct species which is on­ly a stage in the life of an­oth­er dis­tinct and per­haps al­ready known species. To take an ex­am­ple, Le­manea and Ba­tra­chos­per­mum are Florideae which bear dense­ly-​whorled branch­es, but which, on the ger­mi­na­tion of the car­pospore, give rise to a lax­ly-​fil­amen­tous, some­what ir­reg­ular­ly-​branched plant, from which the or­di­nary sex­ual plants arise at a lat­er stage. This fil­amen­tous struc­ture has been at­tribut­ed to the genus Chantran­sia, which it great­ly re­sem­bles, es­pe­cial­ly when, as is said to be the case in Ba­tra­chos­per­mum, it bears sim­ilar monospores. The true Chantran­sia, how­ev­er, bears its own sex­ual or­gans as well as monospores. To the spe­cif­ic iden­ti­ty of Hap­lospo­ra glo­bosa and Scaphospo­ra speciosa, and of Cut­le­ria muiti­fi­da and Aglao­zo­nia rep­tans, ref­er­ence has al­ready been made. Again, many Green Al­gae–some uni­cel­lu­lar, like Sphaerel­la and Chlamy­domonas; some colo­nial forms, like Volvox and Hor­moti­la; some even fil­amen­tous forms, like Ulothrix and Sti­geo­clo­ni­um– are known to pass in­to a con­di­tion re­sem­bling that of a Palmel­la, and might es­cape iden­ti­fi­ca­tion on this ac­count.

It is, on the oth­er hand, a dan­ger in the op­po­site sense to con­clude that all Chantran­sia species are stages in the life-​cy­cle of oth­er plants, and, sim­ilar­ly, that all ir­reg­ular colo­nial forms, like Palmel­la, rep­re­sent phas­es in the life of oth­er Green Al­gae. Long ago Kutz­ing went so far as to ex­press the be­lief that the low­er al­gae were all ca­pa­ble of trans­for­ma­tions in­to high­er forms, even in­to moss-​pro­tone­ma­ta. Lat­er writ­ers have al­so thought that in all four groups of al­gae trans­for­ma­tions of a most far-​reach­ing char­ac­ter oc­cur. Thus Borzi finds that Pro­to­der­ma viri­de pass­es through a se­ries of changes so var­ied that at dif­fer­ent times it presents the char­ac­ters of twelve dif­fer­ent gen­era. Cho­dat does not find so gen­er­al a poly­mor­phism, but nev­er­the­less holds that Raphid­ium pass­es through stages rep­re­sent­ed by Pro­to­coc­cus, Characi­um, Dacty­lo­coc­cus and Scia­di­um. Klebs has, how­ev­er, re­cent­ly can­vassed the con­clu­sions of both these in­ves­ti­ga­tors; and as the re­sult of his own ob­ser­va­tions de­clares that al­gae, so far from be­ing as poly­mor­phic as they have been de­scribed, vary on­ly with­in rel­ative­ly nar­row lim­its, and present on the whole as great fix­ity as the high­er plants. It cer­tain­ly sup­ports his view to dis­cov­er, on sub­ject­ing to a care­ful in­ves­ti­ga­tion Botry­di­um gran­ula­tum, a siphona­ceous al­ga whose var­ied forms had been de­scribed by J. Ros­tafin­ski and M. Woronin, that these au­thors had in­clud­ed in the life-​cy­cle stages of a sec­ond al­ga de­scribed pre­vi­ous­ly by Kutz­ing, and now de­scribed afresh by Klebs as Pro­to­siphon bol­ry­oides. In Botry­di­um the chro­matophores are small, with­out pyrenoids, and oil-​drops are present; in Pro­to­siphon the chro­matophores form a net-​work with pyrenoids, and the con­tents in­clude starch. Klebs in­sists that the on­ly so­lu­tion of such prob­lems is the sub­jec­tion of the al­gae in ques­tion to a rig­or­ous method of pure cul­ture. It is in­ter­est­ing to learn that G. Senn, pur­su­ing the meth­ods de­scribed by Klebs, has con­firmed Cho­dat’s ob­ser­va­tion of the pas­sage of Raphid­ium in­to a Dacty­lo­coc­cus-​stage, al­though he was un­able to ob­serve fur­ther meta­mor­pho­sis. He has al­so seen Pleu­ro­coc­cus viridis di­vid­ing so as to form a fil­ament, but has not suc­ceed­ed in see­ing the for­ma­tion of zoospores as de­scribed by Cho­dat. While, there­fore, there is much ev­idence of a neg­ative char­ac­ter against the ex­is­tence of an ex­ten­sive poly­mor­phism among al­gae, some amount of meta­mor­pho­sis is known to oc­cur. But un­til the con­di­tions un­der which a par­tic­ular trans­for­ma­tion takes place have been as­cer­tained and de­scribed, so that the ob­ser­va­tion may be re­peat­ed by oth­er in­ves­ti­ga­tors, scant cre­dence is like­ly to be giv­en to the more ex­treme poly­mor­phis­tic views.

Phys­iol­ogy.

In com­par­ison with the high­er plants, al­gae ex­hib­it so much sim­plic­ity of struc­ture, while the con­di­tions un­der which they grow are so much more read­ily con­trolled, that they have fre­quent­ly been the sub­ject of phys­io­log­ical in­ves­ti­ga­tion with a view chiefly to the ap­pli­ca­tion of the re­sults to the study of the high­er plants. (See PLANTS: Phys­iol­ogy of.) In the lit­er­ature of veg­etable phys­iol­ogy there has thus ac­cu­mu­lat­ed a great body of facts re­lat­ing not on­ly to the phe­nom­ena of re­pro­duc­tion, but al­so to the nu­tri­tion of al­gae. With ref­er­ence to their chem­ical phys­iol­ogy, the gela­tiniza­tion of the cell-​wall, which is so marked a fea­ture, is doubt­less at­tributable to the oc­cur­rence along with cel­lu­lose of pec­tic com­pounds. There is, how­ev­er, con­sid­er­able vari­ation in the na­ture of the mem­brane in dif­fer­ent species; thus the cell-​wall of Gedo­go­ni­um, treat­ed with sul­phuric acid and io­dine, turns a bright blue, while the colour is very faint in the case of Spir­ogy­ra, the wall of which is said to con­sist for the most part of pec­tose. While starch oc­curs com­mon­ly as a cell-​con­tent in the ma­jor­ity of the Green Al­gae no trace of it oc­curs in Vaucheria and some of its al­lies, nor is it known in the whole of the Phaeo­phyceae and Rhodophyceae. In cer­tain Eu­phaeo­phyceae bod­ies built up of con­cen­tric lay­ers, and at­tached to the chro­matophores, were de­scribed by Schmitz as phaeo­phycean-​starch; they do not, how­ev­er, give the or­di­nary starch re­ac­tion. Oth­er gran­ules, eas­ily mis­tak­en for the “starch” gran­ules, are al­so found in the cells of Phaeo­phyceae; these pos­sess a pow­er of move­ment apart from the pro­to­plasm, and are con­sid­ered to be vesi­cles and to con­tain phloroglu­cin. The colour­less gran­ules of Florideae, which are sup­posed to con­sti­tute the car­bo­hy­drate re­serve ma­te­ri­al, have been called floridean-​starch. A white ef­flo­res­cence which ap­pears on cer­tain Brown Al­gae (Sac­corhiza bul­bosa, Lam­inar­ia sac­cha­ri­na), when they are dried in the air, is found to con­sist of man­nite. Mucin is known in the cell-​sap of Ac­etab­ular­ia. Some Siphonales (Codi­um) give rise to pro­teid crys­tal­loids, and they are of con­stant oc­cur­rence among Florideae. The pres­ence of tan­nin has been es­tab­lished in the case of a great num­ber of fresh­wa­ter al­gae.

Colour­ing mat­ters.

By virtue of the pos­ses­sion of chloro­phyll all al­gae are ca­pa­ble of uti­liz­ing car­bon­ic acid gas as a source of car­bon in the pres­ence of sun­light. The pres­ence of phy­co­cyanin, phy­cophaein and phy­co­ery­thrin con­sid­er­ably mod­ifies the ab­sorp­tion spec­tra for the plants in which they oc­cur. Thus in the case of phy­co­ery­thrin the max­imum ab­sorp­tion, apart from the great ab­sorp­tion at the blue end of the spec­trum, is not, as in the case where chloro­phyll oc­curs alone, near the Fraun­hofer line B, but far­ther to the right be­yond the line D. By an in­ge­nious method de­vised by En­gel­mann, it may be shown that the great­est lib­er­ation of oxy­gen, and con­se­quent­ly the great­est as­sim­ila­tion of car­bon, oc­curs in that re­gion of the spec­trum rep­re­sent­ed by the ab­sorp­tion bands. In this con­nex­ion Pf­ef­fer points out that the pen­etrat­ing pow­er of light in­to a clear sea varies for light of dif­fer­ent colours. Thus red light is re­duced to such an ex­tent as to be in­suf­fi­cient for growth at a depth of 34 me­tres, yel­low light at a depth of 177 me­tres and green light at 322 me­tres. It is thus an ob­vi­ous ad­van­tage to Red Al­gae, which flour­ish at con­sid­er­able depths, to be able to uti­lize yel­low light rather than the red, which is ex­tin­guished so much soon­er. The ex­per­iment of En­gel­mann re­ferred to de­serves to be men­tioned here, if on­ly in il­lus­tra­tion of the use to which al­gae have been put in the study of phys­io­log­ical prob­lems. En­gel­mann ob­served that cer­tain bac­te­ria were motile on­ly in the pres­ence of oxy­gen, and that they re­tained their motil­ity in a mi­cro­scop­ic prepa­ra­tion in the neigh­bour­hood of an al­gal fil­ament when they had come to rest else­where on ac­count of the ex­haus­tion of oxy­gen. Af­ter the bac­te­ria had all been brought to rest by be­ing placed in the dark, he threw a spec­trum up­on the fil­ament, and ob­served in what re­gion the bac­te­ria first re­gained their motil­ity, ow­ing to the lib­er­ation of oxy­gen in the pro­cess of car­bon-​as­sim­ila­tion. He found that these places cor­re­spond­ed close­ly with the re­gion of the ab­sorp­tion band for the al­gae un­der ex­per­iment.

Al­though al­gae gen­er­al­ly are able to use car­bon­ic acid gas as a source of car­bon, some al­gae, like cer­tain of the high­er plants, are ca­pa­ble of uti­liz­ing or­gan­ic com­pounds for this pur­pose. Thus Spir­ogy­ra fil­aments, which have been de­nud­ed of starch by be­ing placed in the dark, form starch in one day if they are placed in a 10 to 20% so­lu­tion of dex­trose. Ac­cord­ing to T. Boko­rny, more­over, it ap­pears that such fil­aments will yield starch from formalde­hyde when they are sup­plied with sodi­um oxymethyl sulphonate, a salt which read­ily de­com­pos­es in­to formalde­hyde and hy­dro­gen sodi­um sul­phite, an ob­ser­va­tion which has been tak­en to mean that formalde­hyde is al­ways a stage in the syn­the­sis of starch. With ref­er­ence to the as­sim­ila­tion of ni­tro­gen, it would seem that al­gae, like oth­er green plants, can best use it when it is pre­sent­ed to them in the form of a ni­trate. Some al­gae, how­ev­er, seem to flour­ish bet­ter in the pres­ence of or­gan­ic com­pounds. In the case of Scenedesmus acu­tus it is said that the al­ga is un­able to take up ni­tro­gen in the form of a ni­trate or am­mo­ni­acal salt, and re­quires some such sub­stance as an amide or a pep­tone. On the oth­er hand, it has been held by Bern­hard Frank and oth­er ob­servers that at­mo­spher­ic ni­tro­gen is fixed by the agen­cy of Green Al­gae in the soil: (For the re­mark­able sym­bi­otism be­tween al­gae and fun­gi see FUN­GI and LICHENS.)

Habi­tat.

Most al­gae, par­tic­ular­ly Phaeo­phyceae and Rhodophyceae, spend the whole of the life-​cy­cle im­mersed in wa­ter. In the case of the fresh­wa­ter al­gae, how­ev­er, be­long­ing to the Chloro­phyceae and Cyanophyceae, al­though they re­quired to be im­mersed dur­ing the veg­eta­tive pe­ri­od, the re­pro­duc­tive cells are of­ten ca­pa­ble of re­sist­ing a con­sid­er­able de­gree of des­ic­ca­tion, and in this con­di­tion are dis­persed through great dis­tances by var­ious agen­cies. Again, as is well known, many species of ma­rine al­gae grow­ing in the re­gion be­tween the lim­its of high and low wa­ter are so con­sti­tut­ed that they are ex­posed to the air twice a day with­out in­jury. The oc­cur­rence of char­ac­ter­is­tic al­gae at dif­fer­ent lev­els con­sti­tut­ing the zones to which ref­er­ence has al­ready been made, is prob­ably in part an ex­pres­sion of the fact that dif­fer­ent species vary in the ca­pac­ity to re­sist des­ic­ca­tion from ex­po­sure. Thus Lam­inar­ia dig­ita­ta, which char­ac­ter­izes the low­est zone, is on­ly oc­ca­sion­al­ly ex­posed at all, and then on­ly for short pe­ri­ods of time. On the oth­er hand, Pel­ve­tia canalic­ula­ta, which marks the up­per belt, is ex­posed for longer pe­ri­ods, and dur­ing neap tides may not be reached by the wa­ter for many days. Al­gae of more del­icate tex­ture than ei­ther Fu­caceae or Lam­inar­iaceae al­so oc­cur in the re­gion ex­posed by the ebb of the tide, but these se­cure their ex­emp­tion from des­ic­ca­tion ei­ther by re­tain­ing wa­ter in their mesh­es by cap­il­lary at­trac­tion, as in the case of Pi­layel­la, or by grow­ing among the tan­gles of the larg­er Fu­caceae, as in the case of Polysi­pho­nia fasti­gia­ta, or by grow­ing in dense mass­es on rocks, as in the case of Lau­ren­cia pin­nat­ifi­da. Such a species as De­lesse­ria san­guinea or Cal­lo­phyl­lis lacini­ata would on the con­trary run great risk by ex­po­sure for even a short pe­ri­od. A few al­gae ap­proach the or­di­nary ter­res­tri­al plants in their ca­pac­ity to live in a sub-​aeri­al habi­tat sub­ject on­ly to such oc­ca­sion­al sup­phes of wa­ter as is af­ford­ed by the rain­fall. Of this na­ture are some of the species of Vaucheria. A very few species, like Chroole­pus, which grows on rock sur­faces, are com­pa­ra­ble with the land plants which have been termed xe­rophilous.

Plank­ton.

The great ma­jor­ity of the aquat­ic al­gae, both fresh­wa­ter and ma­rine, are at­tached plants. Some, how­ev­er, are wan­der­ers, ei­ther swim­ming ac­tive­ly with the aid of cil­ia, or float­ing inert­ly as the re­sult of a spe­cif­ic weight close­ly ap­proach­ing that of the medi­um. To the ag­gre­gate of such forms, both an­imal and veg­etable, the term plank­ton has been ap­plied, and the in­ves­ti­ga­tion of the veg­etable plank­ton, both fresh­wa­ter and ma­rine, has been pur­sued in re­cent times with en­er­gy and suc­cess. The Ger­man Plank­ton Ex­pe­di­tion of 1889 added great­ly to our knowl­edge of the float­ing veg­etable life of the North At­lantic Ocean, while many lab­ora­to­ries es­tab­lished on the shores of in­land seas and lakes have ren­dered a sim­ilar ser­vice in the case of our fresh­wa­ter phy­to-​plank­ton. The quan­ti­ta­tive es­ti­mate of the amount of this flo­ra has re­vealed its enor­mous ag­gre­gate amount and there­fore its great im­por­tance in the econ­omy of ocean­ic and la­cus­trine an­imal life. The or­gan­isms con­sti­tut­ing this plank­ton are most­ly uni­cel­lu­lar, of­ten ag­gre­gat­ed to­geth­er in colonies, and the re­mark­able struc­ture which they ex­hib­it has added a new chap­ter to the sto­ry of adap­ta­tion to en­vi­ron­ment. The fam­ilies Di­atomaceae, Peri­dini­aceae and Pro­to­coc­caceae are best rep­re­sent­ed in the pelag­ic plank­ton, while in ad­di­tion the Volvo­caceae are an im­por­tant el­ement in fresh­wa­ter plank­ton.

Ben­thos.

The great ma­jor­ity of al­gae, how­ev­er, grow like land-​plants at­tached to a sub­stra­tum, and to these the term ben­thos is now gen­er­al­ly ap­plied. While the root of land-​plants serves for the dou­ble pur­pose of at­tach­ment and the sup­ply of wa­ter, it is at­tach­ment on­ly that is usu­al­ly sought in the case of al­gae. Im­mersed as they usu­al­ly are in a medi­um con­tain­ing in so­lu­tion the in­or­gan­ic sub­stances which they re­quire for their nu­tri­tion, the ab­sorp­tion of these takes place through­out their whole ex­tent. The elab­orate pro­vi­sion for the con­duct of wa­ter from part to part which has played so im­por­tant a role in the mor­pho­log­ical de­vel­op­ment of land plants is en­tire­ly want­ing in al­gae, such con­duct­ing tis­sues as do ex­ist in the larg­er Phaeo­phyceae and Rhodophyceae serv­ing rather for the con­vec­tion of elab­orat­ed or­gan­ic sub­stance, and be­ing thus com­pa­ra­ble with the phloem of the high­er plants. The at­tach­ment or­gan of al­gae is thus more prop­er­ly called a hold­fast, and is found to be of very var­ied struc­ture. It gen­er­al­ly takes the form of a sin­gle flat­tened disc as in the Fu­caceae, or a group of fin­ger- like pro­cess­es as in Lam­inar­iaceae, or a tuft of fil­aments as in many in­stances. When the at­tach­ment is in sand or mud, it of­ten sim­ulates the ap­pear­ance of a true root as in Chara or Cauler­pa. It is clear that where the bot­tom of a lake or sea con­sists of oozy mud or shift­ing sand, it is im­pos­si­ble for al­gae to se­cure a foothold. Thus a rock emerg­ing from a sandy beach may of­ten be ob­served to stand cov­ered with veg­eta­tion like an oa­sis in a desert. The ra­pid­ity with which walls, piles and pon­toons–stone, wood and iron–be­come cov­ered with ma­rine plants is well known, while the dis­cov­ery of some ef­fec­tive means of pre­vent­ing the foul­ing of the bot­toms of ships by the growth of al­gae would be hailed as a boon by shipown­ers. While rocks and boul­ders are the favoured sit­ua­tion for the growth of ma­rine al­gae, those which read­ily dis­in­te­grate, like the coars­er sand­stones, are nat­ural­ly less favoured than the hard and re­sis­tant. A large num­ber of al­gae again live as epi­phytes or en­do­phytes. In the case of the fresh­wa­ter species the host-​plants are most­ly species of aquat­ic Gram­inaceae, Na­iadaceae or Nymphaeaceae. In the case of ma­rine al­gae, the hosts are chiefly the larg­er Phaeo­phyceae and Rhodophyceae. A bed of Zostera near the lev­el of low wa­ter is, how­ev­er, on the British coast a favourite col­lect­ing ground for the small­er red and brown epi­phytes. Of en­do­phytes a dis­tinc­tion must be made be­tween those which oc­cu­py the cell-​wall on­ly and those which per­fo­rate the cells, bring­ing about their de­struc­tion. There can be lit­tle doubt that in some cas­es the epi­phytism ap­proach­es par­asitism. In one case de­scribed by Kuck­uck the chromaphores of the in­fest­ing al­gae are ab­sent, a cir­cum­stance which points to a com­plete par­asitism. Al­lu­sion has al­ready been made to the pe­cu­liar habit of the shell-​bor­ing al­gae.

Habit.

In many al­gae cer­tain branch­es of lim­it­ed growth bear a re­mark­able re­sem­blance to leaves. The Characeae among fresh­wa­ter al­gae and the Sar­gas­saceae among ma­rine al­gae might be cit­ed as ex­am­ples. Sur­vey­ing the whole range of al­gae life, Olt­manns dis­tin­guish­es bush-​forms, whip- forms, net-​forms, leaf-​forms, sack-​forms, dor­si-​ven­tral forms, and cush­ions, plates and crusts. The sim­ilar­ity of out­line in many species to that of trees and shrubs will strike any one who ex­am­ines al­gae mount­ed for the herbar­ium. Cladopho­ra and Bry­op­sis among monosiphonous forms, Chara, Polysi­pho­nia, Ce­rami­um and Cys­to­seira among larg­er al­gae, are il­lus­tra­tions of this. The whip-​forms are rep­re­sent­ed by Spir­ogy­ra, Chaeto­mor­pha, Scy­tosiphon, Ne­malion, Hi­man­thalia and Chor­da. Net-​forms are found in Hy­dro­dic­ty­on and Mi­cro­dic­ty­on. The leaf-​forms are very var­ied and owe their ex­is­tence to the ad­van­tage ac­cru­ing from the ex­po­sure of a large sur­face to the in­flu­ence of the light. In some cas­es such as De­lesse­ria, Neury­menia, Fu­cus, Alar­ia, the leaf-​like struc­ture is pro­vid­ed with a strength­en­ing mid-​rib, and when as in De­lesse­ria it is al­so rich­ly veined the re­sem­blance to the leaf of a flow­er­ing plant is strik­ing. Lam­inar­ia, Pad­ina, Cut­le­ria, Punc­taria, Iri­daea, Ul­va, Por­phyra, are leaf-​like with a rigid­ity vary­ing from a fleshy lam­ina to the thin and pli­able. Agarum, Claudea and Stru­vea are leaf-​forms which are per­fo­rat­ed like Al­drovan­da among flow­er­ing plants. En­tero­mor­pha, As­pe­ro­coc­cus and Ade­no­cys­tis are sack-​forms. Dor­si-​ven­tral al­gae are rare. Lev­eil­lea junger­man­neoides bears a re­mark­able re­sem­blance to a leafy liv­er­wort. In the next group of forms the sim­plest are crusts at­tached to the sub­stra­tum through­out their ex­tent, and grow­ing at the mar­gin. Such are Myri­one­ma, Ralf­sia, Melobe­sia and Hilde­brand­tia. Oth­ers are at­tached through­out their ex­tent, but al­so grow ver­ti­cal fil­aments so as to form a vel­vety pile. Such are Coleochaete, Ochlochaete, Elachis­tea, As­co­cy­clus and Rhodo­der­mis. Peysonel­lia squa­maria, Melobe­sia lichenoides, Leathe­sia dif­formis are forms which are not at­tached through­out but grow in plates like the fo­li­aceous lichens.

Ecol­ogy.

When it is sought to con­sid­er al­gae with a view to the cor­re­la­tion of the ex­ter­nal form to the con­di­tions of life, a sub­ject the study of which un­der the name of ecol­ogy has been lat­ter­ly pur­sued with great suc­cess among land plants, it is dif­fi­cult as yet to ar­rive at gen­er­al­iza­tions which are trust­wor­thy. Among land plants, as is well known, sim­ilar­ity of en­vi­ron­ment has of­ten called forth sim­ilar adap­ta­tions among plants of wide­ly sep­arat­ed fam­ilies. The sim­ilar­ity of cer­tain xe­rophilous Eu­phor­biaceae to Cac­taceae is a ready il­lus­tra­tion of this phe­nomenon. From what has been al­ready said it is ev­ident that among al­gae al­so strik­ing­ly sim­ilar forms ex­ist in wide­ly dif­fer­ent groups. In­stances might be mul­ti­plied. Com­pare, for ex­am­ple, the blue-​green Gloeo­cap­sa with the green Gloeo­cys­tis, the red Ba­tra­chos­per­mum with the green Dra­parnal­dia, the red Coral­li­na with the green Cy­mopo­lia, the green En­tero­mor­pha with the brown As­pe­ro­coc­cus, the green Ul­va with the red Por­phyra, the red Ne­malion with the brown Castag­nea, and so on. But on the one hand sim­ilar forms seem to grow of­ten un­der dif­fer­ent con­di­tions, while on the oth­er hand dif­fer­ent forms flour­ish un­der the same con­di­tions. The con­ceiv­able vari­ations in the con­di­tions which would count in al­gal life are vari­ations in the chem­ical char­ac­ter of the wa­ter–whether fresh, brack­ish or salt; or in the rate of move­ment of the wa­ter, whether rel­ative­ly qui­et, or a stream or a surf; or in the de­gree of il­lu­mi­na­tion with the depth and trans­paren­cy of the wa­ter. But the laws which de­ter­mine the as­so­ci­ations of var­ious al­gae un­der one en­vi­ron­ment are as yet lit­tle un­der­stood. The oc­cur­rence of a plen­ti­ful mu­cilage in many fresh­wa­ter forms is, how­ev­er, doubt­less a pro­vi­sion against des­ic­ca­tion on ex­po­sure. The fine sub­di­vi­sion of fil­amen­tous and net-​forms is sim­ilar­ly a pro­vi­sion for easy ac­cess of wa­ter and light to all parts. The cal­care­ous de­posits in Characeae, Coral­li­naceae and Siphonaceae are at once a pro­tec­tion against at­tack and a means of sup­port. The whip-​forms would seem to be de­signed to re­sist in­jury from surf or cur­rent. The vesi­cles of Fu­caceae and Lam­inar­iaceae pre­vent the sink­ing of the bulki­er forms. But why cer­tain Fu­caceae favour cer­tain zones in the lit­toral re­gion, why cer­tain epi­phytes are con­fined to cer­tain hosts, why Red and Brown Al­gae are not bet­ter rep­re­sent­ed in fresh wa­ter Or Green Al­gae in salt,–these are prob­lems to which it is dif­fi­cult to find a ready an­swer.

Us­es.

Al­gae can­not be re­gard­ed as di­rect­ly im­por­tant in the in­dus­tries. On the coasts of Eu­rope ma­rine al­gae de­tached by the au­tum­nal gales are com­mon­ly cart­ed on to the land as a con­ve­nient ma­nure. Por­phyra lacini­ata and Rhody­menia pal­ma­ta are lo­cal­ly used as food, the lat­ter be­ing known as dulse. Agar-​agar is a gelati­nous sub­stance de­rived from an east­ern species of Gracilar­ia. The ash of sea­weeds, known in Scot­land as kelp, and in Brit­tany as varec, was for­mer­ly used as a source of io­dine to a greater ex­tent than is at present the case.

Oc­curence in the rocks.

Ex­cept­ing where the thal­lus is im­preg­nat­ed with sil­ica, as in Di­atomaceae, or car­bon­ate of lime, as in Coral­li­naceae, Characeae and some Siphonales, it is per­haps not sur­pris­ing that al­gae should not have been ex­ten­sive­ly pre­served in the fos­sil form. Con­sid­er­ing, how­ev­er, that it is gen­er­al­ly be­lieved that Bryophy­ta and vas­cu­lar plants are de­scend­ed from an al­gal an­ces­try, it is nat­ural to sup­pose that, pri­or to the lux­uri­ant veg­etable growths of the Car­bonif­er­ous pe­ri­od, there must have ex­ist­ed an age of al­gae. It was doubt­less this ex­pec­ta­tion that has led to the de­scrip­tion of a num­ber of Sil­uri­an and De­vo­ni­an re­mains as al­gae up­on what is now re­gard­ed as in­ad­equate ev­idence. The ge­olog­ic record is, as per­haps is to be ex­pect­ed, ex­ceed­ing­ly poor, ex­cept as re­gards the cal­care­ous Siphonales, which are well rep­re­sent­ed at var­ious hori­zons, from the Sil­uri­an to the Ter­tiary; even the Di­atomaceae, which are found in great quan­ti­ties in the Ter­tiary de­posits, do not oc­cur at all ear­li­er than the chalk. It is be­lieved, how­ev­er, that the De­vo­ni­an fos­sil, Ne­mato­phy­cus, is a Lam­inar­ian al­ga, but it is not un­til the late Sec­ondary and the Ter­tiary for­ma­tions that fos­sil re­mains of al­gae be­come fre­quent. (See PALAEOB­OTANY.)

The sub­joined list in­cludes the larg­er stan­dard works on al­gae, to­geth­er with a num­ber of pa­pers to which ref­er­ence is made in this ar­ti­cle. For a de­tailed cat­alogue of Al­go­log­ical lit­er­ature, see the “Bib­lio­the­ca Phy­co­log­ica” in de Tonii’s Syl­lope Al­gar­um, vo1. i. (1889), with the ad­den­dum there­to in vol. iv. (1897) of the same work. GEN­ER­AL.–J. G. Agardh, Species, gen­era et or­dines Al­gar­um (vols. i-​iii., Al­gernes Sys­tem­atik (Lund, 1872-1899); J. E. Areschoug, “Ob­ser­va­tiones Phy­co­log­icae,” No­va Ac­ta reg. soc. sci. Up­salien­sis (Up­sala, 1866-1875); F. F. Black­man, “The Prim­itive Al­gae and the Flag­el­la­ta,” Ann. of Botany (vol. xiv., Ox­ford, 1900); E. Bor­net and G. Thuret, Notes agologiques (fasc. i.-ii., Paris, 1876-1880); P. A. Dan­geard, “Recherch­es sur les algues in­ferieures,” Ann. des sci. na­turelles, Bot. (vol. vii., Paris, 1888); A. Derbes and A. J. J. Soli­er, Mo­moire de la phys­iolo­gie des algues (Paris, 1856); J. B. de Toni, Syl­loge Al­gar­um—vol. i. Chloro­phyceae, vol. ii. Bacil­lar­iaceae, vol. iii. Fu­coideae, vol. iv. Florideae (Pad­ua, 1889-1900); P. Falken­berg, “Die Al­gen im weitesten Sinne,” Schenk’s Hand­buch der Botanik (vol. ii., 1882); W. G. Far­low, Morine Al­gae of New Eng­land (Wash­ing­ton, 1881); W. H. Har­vey, Phy­colo­gia Bri­tan­ni­ca (4 vols., Lon­don, 1846-1855); Nereis Bo­re­ali-​Amer­icana (3 pts., Wash­ing­ton, 1851-1858); Phy­colo­gia Aus­tral­ica (5 vols., Lon­don, 1858-1863); F. Hauck, “Die Meere­sal­gen Deutsch­lands und Os­ter­richs,” Raben­hort’s Kryp­toga­men-​Flo­ra (Leipzig, 1885); F. R. Kjell­man, The Al­gae of the Arc­tic Sea (Stock­holm, 1883); F. T. Kutz­ing, Tab­ulae Phy­co­log­icae (19 vols., Nord­hausen, 1845-1869); P. Kuck­uck, Beitrage zur Ken­nt­niss der Meerc­sal­gen (Kiel and Leipzig, 1897-1899); G. Mur­ray, Phy­co­log­ical Mem­oirs (Lon­don, 1892-1895) Naegeli, Die neueren Al­gen­sys­teme (Zurich, 1847); F. Olt­manns, Mor­pholo­gie und Bi­olo­gie der Al­gen (Je­na, Band i. 1904, Band ii. 1905); N. Pring­sheim, “Beitrage zur Mor­pholo­gie der Meere­sal­gen,” Ab­hand. Konigl. Akad. der Wis­sensch. (Berlin, 1862); J. Reinke, At­las deutsch­er Meere­sal­gen (Berlin, 1889-1892); F. Schutt, Das Pflanzen­leben der Hochsee (Leipzig, 1893); J. Stack­house, Nereis bri­tan­ni­ca (ed. i., Bath, 1801; ed. ii., Ox­ford, 1816); G. Thuret and E. Bor­net, Etudes phy­cologiques (Paris, 1878); D. Turn­er, His­to­ria Fu­co­rum (4 vols., Lon­don, 1808-1819); G. Za­nar­di­ni, Icono­graphia Phy­colo­gia Adri­at­ica (Venice, 1860-1876).

1. CYANOPHYCEAE.–E. Bor­net and Ch. Fla­hault, “Re­vi­sion des Nos­to­cacees het­ero­cys­tees,” Ann. des sc. na­turelles, Bot.(vols. iii.-vii., Paris, 1887-1888); M. Gomont, “Mono­graph­ic des Os­cil­lar­iees,” Ann. des sc. na­turelles, Bot. (vols. xv.-xvi., Paris, 1893); Hegler, “Uber Kern­theilungser­schei­nun­gen,” Ref. Botan. Cen­tral­bl. (vol. lx­iv., Cas­sel, 1895); O. Kirch­ner, “Schizo­phyceae”, in En­gler and Prantl’s Pflanzen­fam­ilien (Leipzig, 1900).

2. CHLORO­PHYCEAE.–A. Borzi, “Stu­di anamor­fi­ci di al­cune al­ghe ver­di,” Bull. Soc. Bot. Ital. in N. Giorn. Bot. Ital. (vol. xxii., Pisa, 1890); F. F. Black­man and A. G. Tans­ley, A Re­vi­sion of the Clas­si­fi­ca­tion of the Green Al­gae, reprint­ed from the New Phy­tol­ogist (vol. i., Lon­don, 1903); K. Bohlin, “Studi­er ofver na­gra slagten af alggrup­pen con­fer­vales Borzi,” Bi­hang till K. Sven­ska vel. akad. Han­dlinger (Bd. xxi­ii. afd. 3, 1897);–Ufkast­till, De grona al­ger­nas och arkego­mi­ater­nas by­lo­geni (Up­sala, 1901); R. Cho­dat, “On the Poly­mor­phism of the Green Al­gae,” Ann. of Botany (vol. xi., Ox­ford, 1897); M. C. Cooke, British Fresh­wa­ter Al­gae (2 vols., Lon­don, 1884), British Desmids (Lon­don, 1887); G. Klebs, Die Be­din­gun­gen der Fortpflanzung bei eini­gen Al­gen und Pilzen (Je­na, 1896); A. Luther, “Uber Chlorosac­cus, n.g.” Bi­hang till K. Sven­ska vel. akad. Han­dlinger (Bd. xxiv. afd. 3, 1899); H. Grat zu Solms-​Laubach, “Mono­graph of the Ac­etab­ular­iaceae,” Trans. Linn. Soc. (Lond.) Bot. (Lon­don, 1895); N. Wille, “Chloro­phyceae”, in En­gler and Prantl’s Pflanzen­fam­ilien (Leipzig, 1897).

3. PHAEO­PHYCEAE.–E. A. L. Bat­ters, “On Ec­to­car­pus se­cun­dus,” Gre­vil­lea (vol. xxi., Lon­don, 1893); G. Berthold, “Die geschlech­liche Fortpflanzung der eigentlichen Phaeosooreen,” Mit­th. Zo­ol. Stat. Neapel (vol. ii., Leipzig, 1881); G. Breb­ner, “On the Clas­si­fi­ca­tion of the Tilopteri­daceae,” Proc. Bris­tol Nat. Soc. (vol. vi­ii., Bris­tol, 1896-1897); A. H. Church, “On the Poly­mor­phy of Cut­le­ria mul­ti­fl­da,” Ann. of Botany (vol. xii., Ox­ford, 1898); J. B. Farmer es­nd J. Ll. Williams, “Con­tri­bu­tions to our Knowl­edge of the Life- his­to­ry and Cy­tol­ogy of Fu­caceae,” Phil. Trans. Roy. Soc. (vol. cxc., Lon­don, 1898); E. Janczews­ki, “Ob­ser­va­tions sur l’ac­croisse­ment du thalle des Phaeosporees,” Mem. soc. nat. de sc. (Cher­bourg, 1895); F. R. Kjell­mann, “Phaeo­phyceae,” in En­gler and Prantl’s Pflanzen­fa­mil­ian (Leipzig, 1897); F. Olt­manns, “Beitrage zur Ken­nt­niss der Fu­caceen,” Bib­lio­the­ca botan­ica, xiv. (Cas­sel, 1889); C. Sauvageau, “Ob­ser­va­tions rel­atives a la sex­ualite des Phaeosporees,” Jour­nal de botanique (vol. x., Paris, 1896); E. Stras­burg­er, “Kern­theilung und Be­fruch­tung bei Fu­cus,” Cy­tol­ogis­che Stu­di­en (Berlin, 1897); F. Schutt, Die Peri­dinien der Plank­ton-​Ex­pe­di­tion (Kiel and Leipzig, 1895); R. Valiante, Le Cys­to­seirae del Gol­fo di Napoli (Leipzig, 1883); J. Ll. Williams, “On the An­thero­zoids of Dic­ty­ota and Tao­nia,” Ann. of Botany (vol. xi., Ox­ford, 1897).

4. RHODOPHYCEAE.–G. Berthold, “Die Ban­gia­cen des Golfes von Neapel,” Mit­th. Zo­ol. Stat. Neapel (Naples, 1882); F. Olt­manns, “Zur En­twick­elungs­geschichte der Florideen,” Botanis­che Zeitung (1898); R. W. Philligs, “The De­vel­op­ment of the Cys­to­carp in Rhody­meniales,” i. and ii., An­nals of Botany (vols. xi. xii., Ox­ford. 1897-1898); F. Schmitz, “Un­ter­suchun­gen uber die Be­fruch­tung der Florideen,” Sitzungs­ber. der konigl. Akad.der Wis­sensch. (Berlin, 1883); “Kleinere Beitrage zur Ken­nt­niss der Florideen,” La Nuo­va No­tarisia, 1892-1894; F. Schmitz, P. Falken­berg, P. Haupt­fleisch, “Rhodophyceae,” in En­gler and Prantl’s Pflanzen­fam­ilien (1897); W. Schmi­dle, “Die Be­fruch­tung, Keimung und Haarin­ser­tion von Ba­tra­chos­per­mum,” Bot. Zeitung.. (1899); Sirodot, Les Ba­tra­chos­per­mes (Paris, 1884); N. Wille, “Uber die Be­fruch­tung bei Ne­malion mul­ti­fidum,” Ber. d. deutschen bot. Gesellsc. Band xii. (Berlin, 1894); J. J. Wolfe, “Cy­to­log­ical Stud­ies on Ne­malion,” An­nals of Botany (vol. xvi­ii., Ox­ford, 1904); S. Ya­manouchi, “The Life- His­to­ry of Polysi­pho­nia vi­olacea,” Botan­ical Gazette (vol. xli., Chica­go, 1906). (R. W. P.)

AL­GAR­DI, ALESSAN­DRO (1602-1654), Ital­ian sculp­tor, was born at Bologna in 1602. While he was at­tend­ing the school of the Carac­ci his pref­er­ence for the plas­tic art be­came ev­ident, and he placed him­self un­der the in­struc­tion of the sculp­tor Con­ven­ti. At the age of twen­ty he was brought un­der the no­tice of Duke Fer­di­nand of Man­tua, who gave him sev­er­al com­mis­sions. He was al­so much em­ployed about the same pe­ri­od by jew­ellers and oth­ers in mod­elling in gold, sil­ver and ivory. Af­ter a short res­idence in Venice he went to Rome in 1625 with an in­tro­duc­tion from the duke of Man­tua to the pope’s nephew, Car­di­nal Lu­dovisi, who em­ployed him for a time in the restora­tion of an­cient stat­ues. The death of the duke of Man­tua left him to his own re­sources, and for sev­er­al years he earned a pre­car­ious main­te­nance from these restora­tions and the com­mis­sions of gold­smiths and jew­ellers. In 1640 he ex­ecut­ed for Pietro Buon­com­pag­ni his first work in mar­ble, a colos­sal stat­ue of San Fil­ip­po Neri, with kneel­ing an­gels. Im­me­di­ate­ly af­ter, he pro­duced a sim­ilar group, rep­re­sent­ing the ex­ecu­tion of St Paul, for the church of the Barn­abite Fa­thers in Bologna. These works, dis­play­ing great tech­ni­cal skill, though with con­sid­er­able ex­ag­ger­ation of ex­pres­sion and at­ti­tude, at once es­tab­lished Al­gar­di’s rep­uta­tion, and oth­er com­mis­sions fol­lowed in rapid suc­ces­sion. The turn­ing point in Al­gar­di’s for­tune was the ac­ces­sion of In­no­cent X., of the Bolog­nese house of Pan­fili, to the pa­pal throne in 1644. He was em­ployed by Camino Pan­fili, nephew of the pon­tiff, to de­sign the Vil­la Do­ria Pan­fili out­side the San Pan­crazio gate. The most im­por­tant of Al­gar­di’s oth­er works were the mon­ument of Leo XI., a bronze stat­ue of In­no­cent X. for the capi­tol, and, above all, La Fue­ga d’At­ti­la, the largest al­to-​re­lie­vo in the world, the two prin­ci­pal fig­ures be­ing about 10 ft. high. In 1650 Al­gar­di met Ve­lasquez, who ob­tained some in­ter­est­ing or­ders for his Ital­ian com­pan­ion in Spain. Thus there are four chim­neys by Al­gar­di in the palace of Aran­juez, where al­so the fig­ures on the foun­tain of Nep­tune were ex­ecut­ed by him. The Au­gus­tine monastery at Sala­man­ca con­tains the tomb of the count and count­ess de Mon­terey, which was al­so the work of Al­gar­di. From an artis­tic point of view, he was most suc­cess­ful in his por­trait-​stat­ues and groups of chil­dren, where he was obliged to fol­low na­ture most close­ly. In his lat­er years he be­came very avari­cious and amassed a great for­tune. He died in Rome on the 10th of June 1654.

See Le ar­ti di Bologna dis­eg­nate da A. Carac­ci ed in­tagliati da S. Giuli­ni, con’ as­sis­ten­za d’ Alessan­dro A. Al­gar­di (1740).

AL­GAROTH, POW­DER OF, a ba­sic chlo­ride of an­ti­mo­ny. It was known to Basil Valen­tine, and was used medic­inal­ly by the Veronese physi­cian Vic­tor Al­gar­otus about the end of the 16th cen­tu­ry. Its com­po­si­tion is prob­ably Sb4O5Cl2, and it may be pre­pared by the ad­di­tion of much wa­ter to a so­lu­tion of an­ti­mo­ny chlo­ride; a bulky amor­phous pre­cip­itate be­ing formed, which, on stand­ing, grad­ual­ly be­comes crys­talline. It is sol­uble in hy­drochlo­ric acid and tar­tar­ic acid, but in­sol­uble in al­co­hol.

On its com­po­si­tion and prepa­ra­tion see E. Pelig­ot, An­nalen, 1847, lx­iv. 280; L. Schaf­fer, An­nalen, 1869, clii. 314; and R. W. E. MacIvor, Chem. News, 1875, xxxii. 229.

AL­GAR­OT­TI, FRANCESCO, COUNT (1712-1764), Ital­ian philoso­pher and writ­er on art, was born on the 11th of De­cem­ber 1712 at Venice, and died at Pisa in 1764. He stud­ied at Rome and Bologna, and at the age of twen­ty went to Paris, where he en­joyed the friend­ship of Voltaire and pro­duced his great work Neu­to­ni­an­is­mo per le dame, a work on op­tics. Voltaire called him his cher cygne de Padoue. Re­turn­ing from a jour­ney to Rus­sia, he met Fred­er­ick the Great who made him a count of Prus­sia (1740) and court cham­ber­lain (1747). Au­gus­tus III. of Poland hon­oured him with the ti­tle of coun­cil­lor. In 1754, af­ter sev­en years’ res­idence part­ly in Berlin and part­ly in Dres­den, he re­turned to Italy, liv­ing at Venice and then at Pisa, where he died on the 3rd of May 1764. Fred­er­ick the Great erect­ed to his mem­ory a mon­ument on the Cam­po San­to at Pisa. He was a man of wide knowl­edge, a con­nois­seur in art and mu­sic, and the friend of most of the lead­ing au­thors of his time. His chief work on art is the Sag­gi so­pra le belle ar­ti (“Es­says on the Fine Arts”). Among his oth­er works may be men­tioned Po­ems, Trav­els in Rus­sia, Es­say on Paint­ing, Cor­re­spon­dence.

The best com­plete edi­tion with bi­og­ra­phy was pub­lished by D. Miche­lessi (1791-1794).

AL­GARVE, or AL­GARVES, an an­cient king­dom and province in the ex­treme S. of Por­tu­gal, cor­re­spond­ing with the mod­ern ad­min­is­tra­tive dis­trict of Faro, and bound­ed on the N. by Alemte­jo, E. by the Span­ish province of Huel­va, and S. and W. by the At­lantic Ocean. Pop. (1900) 255,191; area, 1937 sq. m. The great­est length of the province is about 85 m. from E. to W.; its av­er­age breadth is about 22 m. from N. to S. The Ser­ra de Mal­hao and the Ser­ra de Monchique ex­tend in the form of a cres­cent across the north­ern part of the province, and, sweep­ing to the south-​west, ter­mi­nate in the lofty promon­to­ry of Cape St Vin­cent, the south-​west ex­trem­ity of Eu­rope. This head­land is fa­mous as the scene of many sea-​fights, no­tably the de­feat in­flict­ed on the Span­ish fleet in Febru­ary 1797 by the British un­der Ad­mi­ral Jervis, af­ter­wards Earl St Vin­cent. Be­tween the moun­tain­ous tracts in the north and the south­ern coast stretch­es a nar­row plain, wa­tered by nu­mer­ous rivers flow­ing south­ward from the hills. The coast is fringed for 30 m. from Quar­teira to Tavi­ra, with long sandy is­lands, through which there are six pas­sages, the most im­por­tant be­ing the Bar­ra No­va, be­tween Faro and Oli­nao. The nav­iga­ble es­tu­ary of the Gua­di­ana di­vides Al­garve from Huel­va, and its trib­utaries wa­ter the west­ern dis­tricts. From the Ser­ra de Mal­hao flow two streams, the Silves and Ode­lou­ca, which unite and en­ter the At­lantic be­low the town of Silves. In the hilly dis­tricts the roads are bad, the soil un­suit­ed for cul­ti­va­tion, and the in­hab­itants few. Flocks of goats are reared on the moun­tain-​sides. The lev­el coun­try along the south­ern coast is more fer­tile, and pro­duces in abun­dance grapes, figs, or­anges, lemons, olives, al­monds, aloes, and even plan­tains and dates. The land is, how­ev­er, not well suit­ed for the pro­duc­tion of ce­re­als, which are most­ly im­port­ed from Spain. On the coast the peo­ple gain their liv­ing in great mea­sure from the fish­eries, tun­ny and sar­dines be­ing caught in con­sid­er­able quan­ti­ties. Salt is al­so made from sea-​wa­ter. There is no man­ufac­tur­ing or min­ing in­dus­try of any im­por­tance. The har­bours are bad, and al­most the whole for­eign trade is car­ried on by ships of oth­er na­tions, al­though the in­hab­itants of Al­garve are re­put­ed to be the best sea­men and fish­er­men of Por­tu­gal. The chief ex­ports are dried fruit, wine, salt, tun­ny, sar­dines and an­chovies. The on­ly rail­way is the Lis­bon-​Faro main line, which pass­es north-​east­ward from Faro, be­tween the Monchique and Mal­hao ranges. Faro (11,789), La­gos (8291), Loule (22,478), Monchique (7345), Ol­hao (10,009), Silves (9687) and Tavi­ra (12,175), the chief towns, are de­scribed in sep­arate ar­ti­cles.

The name of Al­garve is de­rived from the Ara­bic, and sig­ni­fies a land ly­ing to the west. The ti­tle “king of Al­garve,” held by the kings of Por­tu­gal, was first as­sumed by Alphon­so III., who cap­tured Al­garve from the Moors in 1253.

AL­GAU, or ALL­GAU, the name now giv­en to a com­par­ative­ly small dis­trict form­ing the south-​west­ern cor­ner of Bavaria, and be­long­ing to the province of Swabia and Neuburg, but for­mer­ly ap­plied to a much larg­er ter­ri­to­ry, which ex­tend­ed as far as the Danube on the N., the Inn on the S. and the Lech on the W. The Al­gau Alps con­tain sev­er­al lofty peaks, the high­est of which is Madel­ega­bel (8681 ft.). The dis­trict is cel­ebrat­ed for its cat­tle, milk, but­ter and cheese.

AL­GE­BRA (from the Arab. af-​je­br wa’l-​muqa­bala, trans­po­si­tion and re­moval [of terms of an equa­tion], the name of a trea­tise by Ma­hommed ben Musa al-​Khwariz­mi), a branch of math­emat­ics which may be de­fined as the gen­er­al­iza­tion and ex­ten­sion of arith­metic.

The sub­ject-​mat­ter of al­ge­bra will be treat­ed in the fol­low­ing ar­ti­cle un­der three di­vi­sions:—A. Prin­ci­ples of or­di­nary al­ge­bra; B. Spe­cial kinds of al­ge­bra; C. His­to­ry. Spe­cial phas­es of the sub­ject are treat­ed un­der their own head­ings, e.g. AL­GE­BRA­IC FORMS; BI­NO­MI­AL; COM­BI­NA­TO­RI­AL ANAL­YSIS; DE­TER­MI­NANTS; EQUA­TION; CON­TIN­UED FRAC­TION; FUNC­TION; GROUPS, THE­ORY OF; LOG­ARITHM; NUM­BER; PROB­ABIL­ITY; SE­RIES.

A. PRIN­CI­PLES OF OR­DI­NARY AL­GE­BRA

1. The above def­ini­tion gives on­ly a par­tial view of the scope of al­ge­bra. It may be re­gard­ed as based on arith­metic, or as deal­ing in the first in­stance with for­mal re­sults of the laws of arith­meti­cal num­ber; and in this sense Sir Isaac New­ton gave the ti­tle Uni­ver­sal Arith­metic to a work on al­ge­bra. Any def­ini­tion, how­ev­er, must have ref­er­ence to the state of de­vel­op­ment of the sub­ject at the time when the def­ini­tion is giv­en.

2. The ear­li­est al­ge­bra con­sists in the so­lu­tion of equa­tions. The dis­tinc­tion be­tween al­ge­braical and arith­meti­cal rea­son­ing then lies main­ly in the fact that the for­mer is in a more con­densed form than the lat­ter; an un­known quan­ti­ty be­ing rep­re­sent­ed by a spe­cial sym­bol, and oth­er sym­bols be­ing used as a kind of short­hand for ver­bal ex­pres­sions. This form of al­ge­bra was ex­ten­sive­ly stud­ied in an­cient Egypt; but, in ac­cor­dance with the prac­ti­cal ten­den­cy of the Egyp­tian mind, the study con­sist­ed large­ly in the treat­ment of par­tic­ular cas­es, very few gen­er­al rules be­ing ob­tained.

3. For many cen­turies al­ge­bra was con­fined al­most en­tire­ly to the so­lu­tion of equa­tions; one of the most im­por­tant steps be­ing the enun­ci­ation by Dio­phan­tus of Alexan­dria of the laws gov­ern­ing the use of the mi­nus sign. The knowl­edge of these laws, how­ev­er, does not im­ply the ex­is­tence of a con­cep­tion of neg­ative quan­ti­ties. The de­vel­op­ment of sym­bol­ic al­ge­bra by the use of gen­er­al sym­bols to de­note num­bers is due to Fran­cis­cus Vi­eta (Fran­cois Vi­ete, 1540-1603).This led to the idea of al­ge­bra as gen­er­al­ized arith­metic.

4. The prin­ci­pal step in the mod­ern de­vel­op­ment of al­ge­bra was the recog­ni­tion of the mean­ing of neg­ative quan­ti­ties. This ap­pears to have been due in the first in­stance to Al­bert Gi­rard (1595-1632), who ex­tend­ed Vi­eta’s re­sults in var­ious branch­es of math­emat­ics. His work, how­ev­er, was lit­tle known at the time, and lat­er was over­shad­owed by the greater work of Descartes (1596-1650).

5. The main work of Descartes, so far as al­ge­bra was con­cerned, was the es­tab­lish­ment of a re­la­tion be­tween arith­meti­cal and ge­omet­ri­cal mea­sure­ment. This in­volved not on­ly the ge­omet­ri­cal in­ter­pre­ta­tion of neg­ative quan­ti­ties, but al­so the idea of con­ti­nu­ity; this lat­ter, which is the ba­sis of mod­ern anal­ysis, lead­ing to two sep­arate but al­lied de­vel­op­ments, viz. the the­ory of the func­tion and the the­ory of lim­its.

6. The great de­vel­op­ment of all branch­es of math­emat­ics in the two cen­turies fol­low­ing Descartes has led to the term al­ge­bra be­ing used to cov­er a great va­ri­ety of sub­jects, many of which are re­al­ly on­ly ram­ifi­ca­tions of arith­metic, dealt with by al­ge­braical meth­ods, while oth­ers, such as the the­ory of num­bers and the gen­er­al the­ory of se­ries, are out­growths of the ap­pli­ca­tion of al­ge­bra to arith­metic, which in­volve such spe­cial ideas that they must prop­er­ly be re­gard­ed as dis­tinct sub­jects. Some writ­ers have at­tempt­ed uni­fi­ca­tion by treat­ing al­ge­bra as con­cerned with func­tions, and Comte ac­cord­ing­ly de­fined al­ge­bra as the cal­cu­lus of func­tions, arith­metic be­ing re­gard­ed as the cal­cu­lus of val­ues.

7. These at­tempts at the uni­fi­ca­tion of al­ge­bra, and its sep­ara­tion from oth­er branch­es of math­emat­ics, have usu­al­ly been ac­com­pa­nied by an at­tempt to base it, as a de­duc­tive sci­ence, on cer­tain fun­da­men­tal laws or gen­er­al rules; and this has tend­ed to in­crease its dif­fi­cul­ty. In re­al­ity, the va­ri­ety of al­ge­bra cor­re­sponds to the va­ri­ety of phe­nom­ena. Nei­ther math­emat­ics it­self, nor any branch or set of branch­es of math­emat­ics, can be re­gard­ed as an iso­lat­ed sci­ence. While, there­fore, the log­ical de­vel­op­ment of al­ge­bra­ic rea­son­ing must de­pend on cer­tain fun­da­men­tal re­la­tions, it is im­por­tant that in the ear­ly study of the sub­ject these re­la­tions should be in­tro­duced grad­ual­ly, and not un­til there is some em­pir­ical ac­quain­tance with the phe­nom­ena with which they are con­cerned.

8. The ex­ten­sion of the range of sub­jects to which math­emat­ical meth­ods can be ap­plied, ac­com­pa­nied as it is by an ex­ten­sion of the range of study which is use­ful to the or­di­nary work­er, has led in the lat­ter part of the 19th cen­tu­ry to an im­por­tant re­ac­tion against the spe­cial­iza­tion men­tioned in the pre­ced­ing para­graph. This re­ac­tion has tak­en the form of a re­turn to the al­liance be­tween al­ge­bra and ge­om­etry (\S 5), on which mod­ern an­alyt­ical ge­om­etry is based; the al­liance, how­ev­er, be­ing con­cerned with the ap­pli­ca­tion of graph­ical meth­ods to par­tic­ular cas­es rather than to gen­er­al ex­pres­sions. These ap­pli­ca­tions are some­times treat­ed un­der arith­metic, some­times un­der al­ge­bra; but it is more con­ve­nient to re­gard graph­ics as a sep­arate sub­ject, close­ly al­lied to arith­metic, al­ge­bra, men­su­ra­tion and an­alyt­ical ge­om­etry.

9. The as­so­ci­ation of al­ge­bra with arith­metic on the one hand, and with ge­om­etry on the oth­er, presents dif­fi­cul­ties, in that ge­omet­ri­cal mea­sure­ment is based es­sen­tial­ly on the idea of con­ti­nu­ity, while arith­meti­cal mea­sure­ment is based es­sen­tial­ly on the idea of dis­con­ti­nu­ity; both ideas be­ing equal­ly mat­ters of in­tu­ition. The dif­fi­cul­ty first aris­es in el­emen­tary men­su­ra­tion, where it is part­ly met by as­so­ci­at­ing arith­meti­cal and ge­omet­ri­cal mea­sure­ment with the car­di­nal and the or­di­nal as­pects of num­ber re­spec­tive­ly (see ARITH­METIC.) Lat­er, the dif­fi­cul­ty re­curs in an acute form in ref­er­ence to the con­tin­uous vari­ation of a func­tion. Ref­er­ence to a ge­omet­ri­cal in­ter­pre­ta­tion seems at first sight to throw light on the mean­ing of a dif­fer­en­tial co­ef­fi­cient; but clos­er anal­ysis re­veals new dif­fi­cul­ties, due to the ge­omet­ri­cal in­ter­pre­ta­tion it­self. One of the most re­cent de­vel­op­ments of al­ge­bra is the al­ge­bra­ic the­ory at num­ber, which is de­vised with the view of re­mov­ing these dif­fi­cul­ties. The har­mo­ny be­tween arith­meti­cal and ge­omet­ri­cal mea­sure­ment, which was dis­turbed by the Greek ge­ome­ters on the dis­cov­ery of ir­ra­tional num­bers, is re­stored by an un­lim­it­ed sup­ply of the caus­es of dis­tur­bance.

10. Two oth­er de­vel­op­ments of al­ge­bra are of spe­cial im­por­tance. The the­ory of se­quences and se­ries is some­times treat­ed as a part of el­emen­tary al­ge­bra; but it is more con­ve­nient to re­gard the sim­pler cas­es as iso­lat­ed ex­am­ples, lead­ing up to the gen­er­al the­ory. The treat­ment of equa­tions of the sec­ond and high­er de­grees in­tro­duces imag­inary and com­plex num­bers, the the­ory of which is a spe­cial sub­ject.

11. One of the most dif­fi­cult ques­tions for the teach­er of al­ge­bra is the stage at which, and the ex­tent to which, the ideas of a neg­ative num­ber and of con­ti­nu­ity may be in­tro­duced. On the one hand, the mod­ern de­vel­op­ments of al­ge­bra be­gan with these ideas, and par­tic­ular­ly with the idea of a neg­ative num­ber. On the oth­er hand, the late­ness of oc­cur­rence of any par­tic­ular math­emat­ical idea is usu­al­ly close­ly cor­re­lat­ed with its in­trin­sic dif­fi­cul­ty. More­over, the ideas which are usu­al­ly formed on these points at an ear­ly stage are in­com­plete; and, if the in­com­plete­ness of an idea is not re­al­ized, op­er­ations in which it is im­plied are apt to be pure­ly for­mal and me­chan­ical. What are called neg­ative num­bers in arith­metic, for in­stance, are not re­al­ly neg­ative num­bers but neg­ative quan­ti­ties (\S 27 (i.)); and the dif­fi­cul­ties in­ci­dent to the ideas of con­ti­nu­ity have al­ready been point­ed out.

12. In the present ar­ti­cle, there­fore, the main por­tions of el­emen­tary al­ge­bra are treat­ed in one sec­tion, with­out ref­er­ence to these ideas, which are con­sid­ered gen­er­al­ly in two sep­arate sec­tions. These three sec­tions may there­fore be re­gard­ed as to a cer­tain ex­tent con­cur­rent. They are pre­ced­ed by two sec­tions deal­ing with the in­tro­duc­tion to al­ge­bra from the arith­meti­cal and the graph­ical sides, and are fol­lowed by a sec­tion deal­ing briefly with the de­vel­op­ments men­tioned in \S \S 9 and 10 above.

[The in­ter­me­di­ate por­tion of this ar­ti­cle is type­set in TeX and is avail­able else­where.]

C. HIS­TO­RY Var­ious deriva­tions of the word “al­ge­bra,” which is of Ara­bi­an ori­gin, have been giv­en by dif­fer­ent writ­ers. The first men­tion of the word is to be found in the ti­tle of a work by Ma­hommed ben Musa al-​Khwariz­mi (Ho­varez­mi), who flour­ished about the be­gin­ning of the 9th cen­tu­ry. The full ti­tle is ilm al-​je­br wa’l-​muqa­bala, which con­tains the ideas of resti­tu­tion and com­par­ison, or op­po­si­tion and com­par­ison, or res­olu­tion and equa­tion, je­br be­ing de­rived from the verb jabara, to re­unite, and muqa­bala, from ga­bala, to make equal. (The root jabara is al­so met with in the word al­ge­brista, which means a “bone-​set­ter,” and is still in com­mon use in Spain.) The same deriva­tion is giv­en by Lu­cas Pa­ci­olus (Lu­ca Pa­ci­oli), who re­pro­duces the phrase in the translit­er­at­ed form al­ghe­bra e al­mu­ca­bala, and as­cribes the in­ven­tion of the art to the Ara­bi­ans.

Oth­er writ­ers have de­rived the word from the Ara­bic par­ti­cle al (the def­inite ar­ti­cle), and ger­ber, mean­ing “man.” Since, how­ev­er, Geber hap­pened to be the name of a cel­ebrat­ed Moor­ish philoso­pher who flour­ished in about the 11th or 12th cen­tu­ry, it has been sup­posed that he was the founder of al­ge­bra, which has since per­pet­uat­ed his name. The ev­idence of Pe­ter Ra­mus (1515-1572) on this point is in­ter­est­ing, but he gives no au­thor­ity for his sin­gu­lar state­ments. In the pref­ace to his Arith­meti­cae lib­ri duo et toti­dem Al­ge­brae (1560) he says: “The name Al­ge­bra is Syr­iac, sig­ni­fy­ing the art or doc­trine of an ex­cel­lent man. For Geber, in Syr­iac, is a name ap­plied to men, and is some­times a term of hon­our, as mas­ter or doc­tor among us. There was a cer­tain learned math­emati­cian who sent his al­ge­bra, writ­ten in the Syr­iac lan­guage, to Alexan­der the Great, and he named it al­mu­ca­bala, that is, the book of dark or mys­te­ri­ous things, which oth­ers would rather call the doc­trine of al­ge­bra. To this day the same book is in great es­ti­ma­tion among the learned in the ori­en­tal na­tions, and by the In­di­ans, who cul­ti­vate this art, it is called al­jabra and al­boret; though the name of the au­thor him­self is not known.,’ The un­cer­tain au­thor­ity of these state­ments, and the plau­si­bil­ity of the pre­ced­ing ex­pla­na­tion, have caused philol­ogists to ac­cept the deriva­tion from al and jabara. Robert Recorde in his Whet­stone of Witte (1557) us­es the vari­ant al­ge­ber, while John Dee (1527-1608) af­firms that al­giebar, and not al­ge­bra, is the cor­rect form, and ap­peals to the au­thor­ity of the Ara­bi­an Avi­cen­na.

Al­though the term “al­ge­bra” is now in uni­ver­sal use, var­ious oth­er ap­pel­la­tions were used by the Ital­ian math­emati­cians dur­ing the Re­nais­sance. Thus we find Pa­ci­olus call­ing it l’Arte Ma­giore; dit­ta dal vul­go la Reg­ula de la Cosa over Al­ghe­bra e Al­mu­ca­bala. The name l’arte ma­giore, the greater art, is de­signed to dis­tin­guish it from l’arte mi­nore, the less­er art, a term which he ap­plied to the mod­ern arith­metic. His sec­ond vari­ant, la reg­ula de la cosa, the rule of the thing or un­known quan­ti­ty, ap­pears to have been in com­mon use in Italy, and the word cosa was pre­served for sev­er­al cen­turies in the forms coss or al­ge­bra, cos­sic or al­ge­bra­ic, cos­sist or al­ge­braist, &c. Oth­er Ital­ian writ­ers termed it the Reg­ula rei et cen­sus, the rule of the thing and the prod­uct, or the root and the square. The prin­ci­ple un­der­ly­ing this ex­pres­sion is prob­ably to be found in the fact that it mea­sured the lim­its of their at­tain­ments in al­ge­bra, for they were un­able to solve equa­tions of a high­er de­gree than the quadrat­ic or square.

Fran­cis­cus Vi­eta (Fran­cois Vi­ete) named it Specious Arith­metic, on ac­count of the species of the quan­ti­ties in­volved, which he rep­re­sent­ed sym­bol­ical­ly by the var­ious let­ters of the al­pha­bet. Sir Isaac New­ton in­tro­duced the term Uni­ver­sal Arith­metic, since it is con­cerned with the doc­trine of op­er­ations, not af­fect­ed on num­bers, but on gen­er­al sym­bols.

Notwith­stand­ing these and oth­er id­iosyn­crat­ic ap­pel­la­tions, Eu­ro­pean math­emati­cians have ad­hered to the old­er name, by which the sub­ject is now uni­ver­sal­ly known.

It is dif­fi­cult to as­sign the in­ven­tion of any art or sci­ence def­inite­ly to any par­tic­ular age or race. The few frag­men­tary records, which have come down to us from past civ­iliza­tions, must not be re­gard­ed as rep­re­sent­ing the to­tal­ity of their knowl­edge, and the omis­sion of a sci­ence or art does not nec­es­sar­ily im­ply that the sci­ence or art was un­known. It was for­mer­ly the cus­tom to as­sign the in­ven­tion of al­ge­bra to the Greeks, but since the de­ci­pher­ment of the Rhind pa­pyrus by Eisen­lohr this view has changed, for in this work there are dis­tinct signs of an al­ge­bra­ic anal­ysis. The par­tic­ular prob­lem—a heap (hau) and its sev­enth makes 19—is solved as we should now solve a sim­ple equa­tion; but Ahmes varies his meth­ods in oth­er sim­ilar prob­lems. This dis­cov­ery car­ries the in­ven­tion of al­ge­bra back to about 1700 B.C., if not ear­li­er.

It is prob­able that the al­ge­bra of the Egyp­tians was of a most rudi­men­ta­ry na­ture, for oth­er­wise we should ex­pect to find traces of it in the works of the Greek aeome­ters. of whom Thales of Mile­tus (640-546 B.C.) was the first. Notwith­stand­ing the pro­lix­ity of writ­ers and the num­ber of the writ­ings, all at­tempts at ex­tract­ing an al­ge­bra­ic anal­ysis from their ge­omet­ri­cal the­orems and prob­lems have been fruit­less, and it is gen­er­al­ly con­ced­ed that their anal­ysis was ge­omet­ri­cal and had lit­tle or no affin­ity to al­ge­bra. The first ex­tant work which ap­proach­es to a trea­tise on al­ge­bra is by Dio­phan­tus (q.v.), an Alexan­dri­an math­emati­cian, who flour­ished about A.D. 350. The orig­inal, which con­sist­ed of a pref­ace and thir­teen books, is now lost, but we have a Latin trans­la­tion of the first six books and a frag­ment of an­oth­er on polyg­onal num­bers by Xy­lan­der of Augs­burg (1575), and Latin and Greek trans­la­tions by Gas­par Ba­chet de Mer­izac (1621-1670). Oth­er edi­tions have been pub­lished, of which we may men­tion Pierre Fer­mat’s (1670), T. L. Heath’s (1885) and P. Tan­nery’s (1893-1895). In the pref­ace to this work, which is ded­icat­ed to one Diony­sius, Dio­phan­tus ex­plains his no­ta­tion, nam­ing the square, cube and fourth pow­ers, dy­namis, cubus, dy­namo­din­imus, and so on, ac­cord­ing to the sum in the in­dices. The un­known he terms arith­mos, the num­ber, and in so­lu­tions he marks it by the fi­nal s; he ex­plains the gen­er­ation of pow­ers, the rules for mul­ti­pli­ca­tion and di­vi­sion of sim­ple quan­ti­ties, but he does not treat of the ad­di­tion, sub­trac­tion, mul­ti­pli­ca­tion and di­vi­sion of com­pound quan­ti­ties. He then pro­ceeds to dis­cuss var­ious ar­ti­fices for the sim­pli­fi­ca­tion of equa­tions, giv­ing meth­ods which are still in com­mon use. In the body of the work he dis­plays con­sid­er­able in­ge­nu­ity in re­duc­ing his prob­lems to sim­ple equa­tions, which ad­mit ei­ther of di­rect so­lu­tion, or fall in­to the class known as in­de­ter­mi­nate equa­tions. This lat­ter class he dis­cussed so as­sid­uous­ly that they are of­ten known as Dio­phan­tine prob­lems, and the meth­ods of re­solv­ing them as the Dio­phan­tine anal­ysis (see EQUA­TION, In­de­ter­mi­nate.) It is dif­fi­cult to be­lieve that this work of Dio­phan­tus arose spon­ta­neous­ly in a pe­ri­od of gen­er­al stag­na­tion. It is more than like­ly that he was in­debt­ed to ear­li­er writ­ers, whom he omits to men­tion, and whose works are now lost; nev­er­the­less, but for this work, we should be led to as­sume that al­ge­bra was al­most, if not en­tire­ly, un­known to the Greeks.

The Ro­mans, who suc­ceed­ed the Greeks as the chief civ­ilized pow­er in Eu­rope, failed to set store on their lit­er­ary and sci­en­tif­ic trea­sures; math­emat­ics was all but ne­glect­ed; and be­yond a few im­prove­ments in arith­meti­cal com­pu­ta­tions, there are no ma­te­ri­al ad­vances to be record­ed.

In the chrono­log­ical de­vel­op­ment of our sub­ject we have now to turn to the Ori­ent. In­ves­ti­ga­tion of the writ­ings of In­di­an math­emati­cians has ex­hib­it­ed a fun­da­men­tal dis­tinc­tion be­tween the Greek and In­di­an mind, the for­mer be­ing pre-​em­inent­ly ge­omet­ri­cal and spec­ula­tive, the lat­ter arith­meti­cal and main­ly prac­ti­cal. We find that ge­om­etry was ne­glect­ed ex­cept in so far as it was of ser­vice to as­tron­omy; trigonom­etry was ad­vanced, and al­ge­bra im­proved far be­yond the at­tain­ments of Dio­phan­tus.

The ear­li­est In­di­an math­emati­cian of whom we have cer­tain knowl­edge is Aryab­hat­ta, who flour­ished about the be­gin­ning of the 6th cen­tu­ry of our era. The fame of this as­tronomer and math­emati­cian rests on his work, the Aryab­hat­tiyam, the third chap­ter of which is de­vot­ed to math­emat­ics. Ganes­sa, an em­inent as­tronomer, math­emati­cian and scho­liast of Bhaskara, quotes this work and makes sep­arate men­tion of the cut­ta­ca (“pul­veris­er”), a de­vice for ef­fect­ing the so­lu­tion of in­de­ter­mi­nate equa­tions. Hen­ry Thomas Cole­brooke, one of the ear­li­est mod­ern in­ves­ti­ga­tors of Hin­du sci­ence, pre­sumes that the trea­tise of Aryab­hat­ta ex­tend­ed to de­ter­mi­nate quadrat­ic equa­tions, in­de­ter­mi­nate equa­tions of the first de­gree, and prob­ably of the sec­ond. An as­tro­nom­ical work, called the Surya-​sid­dhan­ta (“knowl­edge of the Sun”), of un­cer­tain au­thor­ship and prob­ably be­long­ing to the 4th or 5th cen­tu­ry, was con­sid­ered of great mer­it by the Hin­dus, who ranked it on­ly sec­ond to the work of Brah­magup­ta, who flour­ished about a cen­tu­ry lat­er. It is of great in­ter­est to the his­tor­ical stu­dent, for it ex­hibits the in­flu­ence of Greek sci­ence up­on In­di­an math­emat­ics at a pe­ri­od pri­or to Aryab­hat­ta. Af­ter an in­ter­val of about a cen­tu­ry, dur­ing which math­emat­ics at­tained its high­est lev­el, there flour­ished Brah­magup­ta (b. A.D. 598), whose work en­ti­tled Brah­ma-​sphuta-​sid­dhan­ta (“The re­vised sys­tem of Brah­ma”) con­tains sev­er­al chap­ters de­vot­ed to math­emat­ics. Of oth­er In­di­an writ­ers men­tion may be made of Crid­hara, the au­thor of a Gani­ta-​sara (“Quintessence of Cal­cu­la­tion”), and Pad­man­ab­ha, the au­thor of an al­ge­bra.

A pe­ri­od of math­emat­ical stag­na­tion then ap­pears to have pos­sessed the In­di­an mind for an in­ter­val of sev­er­al cen­turies, for the works of the next au­thor of any mo­ment stand but lit­tle in ad­vance of Brah­magup­ta. We re­fer to Bhaskara Acarya, whose work the Sid­dhan­ta-​ciro­mani (“Di­adem of anas­tro­nom­ical Sys­tem”), writ­ten in 1150, con­tains two im­por­tant chap­ters, the Lilavati (“the beau­ti­ful [sci­ence or art]”) and Vi­ga-​gani­ta (“root-​ex­trac­tion”), which are giv­en up to arith­metic and al­ge­bra.

En­glish trans­la­tions of the math­emat­ical chap­ters of the Brah­ma-​sid­dhan­ta and Sid­dhan­ta-​ciro­mani by H. T. Cole­brooke (1817), and of the Surya-​sid­dhan­ta by E. Burgess, with an­no­ta­tions by W. D. Whit­ney (1860), may be con­sult­ed for de­tails.

The ques­tion as to whether the Greeks bor­rowed their al­ge­bra from the Hin­dus or vice ver­sa has been the sub­ject of much dis­cus­sion. There is no doubt that there was a con­stant traf­fic be­tween Greece and In­dia, and it is more than prob­able that an ex­change of pro­duce would be ac­com­pa­nied by a trans­fer­ence of ideas. Moritz Can­tor sus­pects the in­flu­ence of Dio­phan­tine meth­ods, more par­tic­ular­ly in the Hin­du so­lu­tions of in­de­ter­mi­nate equa­tions, where cer­tain tech­ni­cal terms are, in all prob­abil­ity, of Greek ori­gin. How­ev­er this may be, it is cer­tain that the Hin­du al­ge­braists were far in ad­vance of Dio­phan­tus. The de­fi­cien­cies of the Greek sym­bol­ism were par­tial­ly reme­died; sub­trac­tion was de­not­ed by plac­ing a dot over the sub­tra­hend; mul­ti­pli­ca­tion, by plac­ing bha (an ab­bre­vi­ation of bhavi­ta, the “prod­uct”) af­ter the fac­tom; di­vi­sion, by plac­ing the di­vi­sor un­der the div­idend; and square root, by in­sert­ing ka (an ab­bre­vi­ation of karana, ir­ra­tional) be­fore the quan­ti­ty. The un­known was called ya­vat­ta­vat, and if there were sev­er­al, the first took this ap­pel­la­tion, and the oth­ers were des­ig­nat­ed by the names of colours; for in­stance, x was de­not­ed by ya and y by ka (from kala­ka, black).

A no­table im­prove­ment on the ideas of Dio­phan­tus is to be found in the fact that the Hin­dus rec­og­nized the ex­is­tence of two roots of a quadrat­ic equa­tion, but the neg­ative roots were con­sid­ered to be in­ad­equate, since no in­ter­pre­ta­tion could be found for them. It is al­so sup­posed that they an­tic­ipat­ed dis­cov­er­ies of the so­lu­tions of high­er equa­tions. Great ad­vances were made in the study of in­de­ter­mi­nate equa­tions, a branch of anal­ysis in which Dio­phan­tus ex­celled. But where­as Dio­phan­tus aimed at ob­tain­ing a sin­gle so­lu­tion, the Hin­dus strove for a gen­er­al method by which any in­de­ter­mi­nate prob­lem could be re­solved. In this they were com­plete­ly suc­cess­ful, for they ob­tained gen­er­al so­lu­tions for the equa­tions ax(+ or -)by=c, xy=ax+by+c (since re­dis­cov­ered by Leon­hard Eu­ler) and cy2=ax2+b. A par­tic­ular case of the last equa­tion, name­ly, y2=ax2+1, sore­ly taxed the re­sources of mod­ern al­ge­braists. It was pro­posed by Pierre de Fer­mat to Bern­hard Freni­cle de Bessy, and in 1657 to all math­emati­cians. John Wal­lis and Lord Brounker joint­ly ob­tained a te­dious so­lu­tion which was pub­lished in 1658, and af­ter­wards in 1668 by John Pell in his Al­ge­bra. A so­lu­tion was al­so giv­en by Fer­mat in his Re­la­tion. Al­though Pell had noth­ing to do with the so­lu­tion, pos­ter­ity has termed the equa­tion Pell’s Equa­tion, or Prob­lem, when more right­ly it should be the Hin­du Prob­lem, in recog­ni­tion of the math­emat­ical at­tain­ments of the Brah­mans.

Her­mann Han­kel has point­ed out the readi­ness with which the Hin­dus passed from num­ber to mag­ni­tude and vice ver­sa. Al­though this tran­si­tion from the dis­con­tin­uous to con­tin­uous is not tru­ly sci­en­tif­ic, yet it ma­te­ri­al­ly aug­ment­ed the de­vel­op­ment of al­ge­bra, and Han­kel af­firms that if we de­fine al­ge­bra as the ap­pli­ca­tion of arith­meti­cal op­er­ations to both ra­tio­nal and ir­ra­tional num­bers or mag­ni­tudes, then the Brah­mans are the re­al in­ven­tors of al­ge­bra.

The in­te­gra­tion of the scat­tered tribes of Ara­bia in the 7th cen­tu­ry by the stir­ring re­li­gious pro­pa­gan­da of Ma­homet was ac­com­pa­nied by a me­te­oric rise in the in­tel­lec­tu­al pow­ers of a hith­er­to ob­scure race. The Arabs be­came the cus­to­di­ans of In­di­an and Greek sci­ence, whilst Eu­rope was rent by in­ter­nal dis­sen­sions. Un­der the rule of the Ab­basids, Bag­dad be­came the cen­tre of sci­en­tif­ic thought; physi­cians and as­tronomers from In­dia and Syr­ia flocked to their court; Greek and In­di­an manuscripts were trans­lat­ed (a work com­menced by the Caliph Ma­mun (813-833) and ably con­tin­ued by his suc­ces­sors); and in about a cen­tu­ry the Arabs were placed in pos­ses­sion of the vast stores of Greek and In­di­an learn­ing. Eu­clid’s El­ements were first trans­lat­ed in the reign of Harun-​al-​Rashid (786-809), and re­vised by the or­der of Ma­mun. But these trans­la­tions Were re­gard­ed as im­per­fect, and it re­mained for To­bit ben Ko­rra (836-901) to pro­duce a sat­is­fac­to­ry edi­tion. Ptole­my’s Al­magest, the works of Apol­lo­nius, Archimedes, Dio­phan­tus and por­tions of the Brah­masid­dhan­ta, were al­so trans­lat­ed. The first no­table Ara­bi­an math­emati­cian was Ma­hommed ben Musa al-​Khwariz­mi, who flour­ished in the reign of Ma­mun. His trea­tise on al­ge­bra and arith­metic (the lat­ter part of which is on­ly ex­tant in the form of a Latin trans­la­tion, dis­cov­ered in 1857) con­tains noth­ing that was un­known to the Greeks and Hin­dus; it ex­hibits meth­ods al­lied to those of both races, with the Greek el­ement pre­dom­inat­ing. The part de­vot­ed to al­ge­bra has the ti­tle al-​jeur wa’lmuqa­bala, and the arith­metic be­gins with “Spo­ken has Al­go­rit­mi,” the name Khwariz­mi or Ho­varez­mi hav­ing passed in­to the word Al­go­rit­mi, which has been fur­ther trans­formed in­to the more mod­ern words al­go­rism and al­go­rithm, sig­ni­fy­ing a method of com­put­ing.

To­bit ben Ko­rra (836-901), born at Har­ran in Mesopotamia, an ac­com­plished lin­guist, math­emati­cian and as­tronomer, ren­dered con­spic­uous Ser­vice by his trans­la­tions of var­ious Greek au­thors. His in­ves­ti­ga­tion of the prop­er­ties of am­ica­ble num­bers (q.v.) and of the prob­lem of tri­sect­ing an an­gle, are of im­por­tance. The Ara­bi­ans more close­ly re­sem­bled the Hin­dus than the Greeks in the choice of stud­ies; their philoso­phers blend­ed spec­ula­tive dis­ser­ta­tions with the more pro­gres­sive study of medicine; their math­emati­cians ne­glect­ed the sub­tleties of the con­ic sec­tions and Dio­phan­tine anal­ysis, and ap­plied them­selves more par­tic­ular­ly to per­fect the sys­tem of nu­mer­als (see NU­MER­AL), arith­metic and as­tron­omy (q.v..) It thus came about that while some progress was made in al­ge­bra, the tal­ents of the race were be­stowed on as­tron­omy and trigonom­etry (q.v..) Fahri des al Kar­bi, who flour­ished about the be­gin­ning of the 11th cen­tu­ry, is the au­thor of the most im­por­tant Ara­bi­an work on al­ge­bra. He fol­lows the meth­ods of Dio­phan­tus; his work on in­de­ter­mi­nate equa­tions has no re­sem­blance to the In­di­an meth­ods, and con­tains noth­ing that can­not be gath­ered from Dio­phan­tus. He solved quadrat­ic equa­tions both ge­omet­ri­cal­ly and al­ge­braical­ly, and al­so equa­tions of the form x2n+axn+b=0; he al­so proved cer­tain re­la­tions be­tween the sum of the first n nat­ural num­bers, and the sums of their squares and cubes.

Cu­bic equa­tions were solved ge­omet­ri­cal­ly by de­ter­min­ing the in­ter­sec­tions of con­ic sec­tions. Archimedes’ prob­lem of di­vid­ing a sphere by a plane in­to two seg­ments hav­ing a pre­scribed ra­tio, was first ex­pressed as a cu­bic equa­tion by Al Ma­hani, and the first so­lu­tion was giv­en by Abu Ga­far al Hazin. The de­ter­mi­na­tion of the side of a reg­ular hep­tagon which can be in­scribed or cir­cum­scribed to a giv­en cir­cle was re­duced to a more com­pli­cat­ed equa­tion which was first suc­cess­ful­ly re­solved by Ab­ul Gud. The method of solv­ing equa­tions ge­omet­ri­cal­ly was con­sid­er­ably de­vel­oped by Omar Khayyam of Kho­ras­san, who flour­ished in the 11th cen­tu­ry. This au­thor ques­tioned the pos­si­bil­ity of solv­ing cu­bics by pure al­ge­bra, and bi­quadrat­ics by ge­om­etry. His first con­tention was not dis­proved un­til the 15th cen­tu­ry, but his sec­ond was dis­posed of by Ab­ul We­ta (940-908), who suc­ceed­ed in solv­ing the forms x4=a and x4+ax3=b.

Al­though the foun­da­tions of the ge­omet­ri­cal res­olu­tion of cu­bic equa­tions are to be as­cribed to the Greeks (for Eu­to­cius as­signs to Menaech­mus two meth­ods of solv­ing the equa­tion x3=a and x3=2a3), yet the sub­se­quent de­vel­op­ment by the Arabs must be re­gard­ed as one of their most im­por­tant achieve­ments. The Greeks had suc­ceed­ed in solv­ing an iso­lat­ed ex­am­ple; the Arabs ac­com­plished the gen­er­al so­lu­tion of nu­mer­ical equa­tions.

Con­sid­er­able at­ten­tion has been di­rect­ed to the dif­fer­ent styles in which the Ara­bi­an au­thors have treat­ed their sub­ject. Moritz Can­tor has sug­gest­ed that at one time there ex­ist­ed two schools, one in sym­pa­thy With the Greeks, the oth­er with the Hin­dus; and that, al­though the writ­ings of the lat­ter were first stud­ied, they were rapid­ly dis­card­ed for the more per­spic­uous Gre­cian meth­ods, so that, among the lat­er Ara­bi­an writ­ers, the In­di­an meth­ods were prac­ti­cal­ly for­got­ten and their math­emat­ics be­came es­sen­tial­ly Greek in char­ac­ter.

Turn­ing to the Arabs in the West we find the same en­light­ened spir­it; Cor­do­va, the cap­ital of the Moor­ish em­pire in Spain, was as much a cen­tre of learn­ing as Bag­dad. The ear­li­est known Span­ish math­emati­cian is Al Mad­shrit­ti (d. 1007), whose fame rests on a dis­ser­ta­tion on am­ica­ble num­bers, and on the schools which were found­ed by his pupils at Cor­doya, Dama and Grana­da. Gabir ben Al­lah of Sevil­la, com­mon­ly called Geber, was a cel­ebrat­ed as­tronomer and ap­par­ent­ly skilled in al­ge­bra, for it has been sup­posed that the word “al­ge­bra’, is com­pound­ed from his name.

When the Moor­ish em­pire be­gan to wane the bril­liant in­tel­lec­tu­al gifts which they had so abun­dant­ly nour­ished dur­ing three or four cen­turies be­came en­fee­bled, and af­ter that pe­ri­od they failed to pro­duce an au­thor com­pa­ra­ble with those of the 7th to the 11th cen­turies.

In Eu­rope the de­cline of Rome was suc­ceed­ed by a pe­ri­od, last­ing sev­er­al cen­turies, dur­ing which the sci­ences and arts were all but ne­glect­ed. Po­lit­ical and ec­cle­si­as­ti­cal dis­sen­sions oc­cu­pied the great­est in­tel­lects, and the on­ly progress to be mcord­ed is in the art of com­put­ing or arith­metic, and the trans­la­tion of Ara­bic manuscripts. The first suc­cess­ful at­tempt to re­vive the study of al­ge­bra in Chris­ten­dom was due to Leonar­do of Pisa. an Ital­ian mer­chant trad­ing in the Mediter­ranean. His trav­els and mer­can­tile ex­pe­ri­ence had led him to con­clude that the Hin­du meth­ods of com­put­ing, were in ad­vance of those then in gen­er­al use, and in 1202 he pub­lished his Liber Abaci, which treats of both al­ge­bra and arith­metic. In this work, which is of great his­tor­ical in­ter­est, since it was pub­lished about two cen­turies be­fore the art of print­ing was dis­cov­ered, he adopts the Ara­bic no­ta­tion for nulnbers, and solves many prob­lems, both arith­meti­cal and al­ge­braical. But it con­tains lit­tle that is orig­inal, and al­though the work cre­at­ed a great sen­sa­tion when it was first pub­lished, the ef­fect soon passed away, and the book was prac­ti­cal­ly for­got­ten. Math­emat­ics was more or less oust­ed from the aca­dem­ic cur­ric­ula by the philo­soph­ical in­quiries of the school­men, and it was on­ly af­ter an in­ter­val of near­ly three cen­turies that a wor­thy suc­ces­sor to Leonar­do ap­peared. This was Lu­cas Pa­ci­olus (Lu­cas de Bur­go), a Mi­norite fri­ar, who, hav­ing pre­vi­ous­ly writ­ten works on al­ge­bra, arith­metic and ge­om­etry, pub­lished, in 1494, his prin­ci­pal work, en­ti­tled Sum­ma de Arith­meti­ca, Giome­tria, Pro­por­tioni et Pro­por­tion­ali­ta. In it he men­tions many ear­li­er writ­ers from whom he had learnt the sci­ence, and al­though it con­tains very lit­tle that can­not be found in Leonar­do’s work, yet it is es­pe­cial­ly note­wor­thy for the sys­tem­at­ic em­ploy­ment of sym­bols, and the man­ner in which it re­flects the state of math­emat­ics in Eu­rope dur­ing this pe­ri­od. These works are the ear­li­est print­ed books on math­emat­ics. The re­nais­sance of math­emat­ics was thus ef­fect­ed in Italy, and it is to that coun­try that the lead­ing de­vel­op­ments of the fol­low­ing cen­tu­ry were due. The first dif­fi­cul­ty to be over­come was the al­ge­braical so­lu­tion of cu­bic equa­tions, the pons asi­no­rum of the ear­li­er math­emati­cians. The first step in this di­rec­tion was made by Sci­pio Fer­ro (d. 1526), who solved the equa­tion x3+ax=b. Of his dis­cov­ery we know noth­ing ex­cept that he de­clared it to his pupil An­to­nio Marie Flori­das. An im­per­fect so­lu­tion of the equa­tion x3+px2=q was dis­cov­ered by Nicholas Tar­talea (Tartaglia) in 1530, and his pride in this achieve­ment led him in­to con­flict with Flori­das, who pro­claimed his own knowl­edge of the form re­solved by Fer­ro. Mu­tu­al re­crim­ina­tions led to a pub­lic dis­cus­sion in 1535, when Tar­talea com­plete­ly vin­di­cat­ed the gen­er­al ap­pli­ca­bil­ity of his meth­ods and ex­hib­it­ed the in­ef­fi­cien­cies of that of Flori­das. This con­test over, Tar­talea re­dou­bled his at­tempts to gen­er­al­ize his meth­ods, and by 1541 he pos­sessed the means for solv­ing any form of cu­bic equa­tion. His dis­cov­er­ies had made him fa­mous all over Italy, and he was earnest­ly so­licit­ed to pub­lish his meth­ods; but he ab­stained from do­ing so, say­ing that he in­tend­ed to em­body them in a trea­tise on al­ge­bra which he was prepar­ing. At last he suc­cumbed to the re­peat­ed re­quests of Giro­lamo or Geron­imo Car­dano, who swore that he would re­gard them as an in­vi­olable se­cret. Car­dan or Car­dano, who was at that time writ­ing his great work, the Ars Magna, could not re­strain the temp­ta­tion of crown­ing his trea­tise with such im­por­tant dis­cov­er­ies, and in 1545 he broke his oath and gave to the world Tar­talea’s rules for solv­ing cu­bic equa­tions. Tar­talea, thus robbed of his most cher­ished pos­ses­sion, was in de­spair. Re­crim­ina­tions en­sued un­til his death in 1557, and al­though he sus­tained his claim for pri­or­ity, pos­ter­ity has not con­ced­ed to him the hon­our of his dis­cov­ery, for his so­lu­tion is now known as Car­dan’s Rule.

Cu­bic equa­tions hav­ing been solved, bi­quadrat­ics soon fol­lowed suit. As ear­ly as 1539 Car­dan had solved cer­tain par­tic­ular cas­es, but it re­mained for his pupil, Lewis (Lu­dovi­ci) Fer­rari, to de­vise a gen­er­al method. His so­lu­tion, which is some­times er­ro­neous­ly as­cribed to Rafael Bombelh, was pub­lished in the Ars Magna. In this work, which is one of the most valu­able con­tri­bu­tions to the lit­er­ature of al­ge­bra, Car­dan shows that he was fa­mil­iar with both re­al pos­itive and neg­ative roots of equa­tions whel­her ra­tio­nal or ir­ra­tional, but of imag­inary roots he was quite ig­no­rant, and he ad­mits his in­abil­ity to re­solve the so-​called “ir­re­ducible case” (see EQUA­TION.) Fun­da­men­tal the­orems in the the­ory of equa­tions are to be found in the same work. Clear­er ideas of imag­inary quan­ti­ties and the “ir­re­ducible case” were sub­se­quent­ly pub­lished by Bombel­li, in a work of which the ded­ica­tion is dat­ed 1572, though the book was not pub­lished un­til 1579.

Con­tem­po­ra­ne­ous­ly with the re­mark­able dis­cov­er­ies of the Ital­ian math­emati­cians, al­ge­bra was in­creas­ing in pop­ular­ity in Ger­many, France and Eng­land. Michael Stifel and Jo­hann Scheube­lius (Schey­bl) (1494-1570) flour­ished in Ger­many, and al­though un­ac­quaint­ed with the work of Car­dan and Tar­talea, their writ­ings are note­wor­thy for their per­spicu­ity and the in­tro­duc­tion of a more com­plete sym­bol­ism for quan­ti­ties and op­er­ations. Stifel in­tro­duced the sign (+) for ad­di­tion or a pos­itive quan­ti­ty, which was pre­vi­ous­ly de­not­ed by plus, piu, or the let­ter p. Sub­trac­tion, pre­vi­ous­ly writ­ten as mi­nus, mone or the let­ter m, was sym­bol­ized by the sign (-) which is still in use. The square root he de­not­ed by (sqrt. ), where­as Pa­ci­olus, Car­dan and oth­ers used the let­ter R.

The first trea­tise on al­ge­bra writ­ten in En­glish was by Robert Recorde, who pub­lished his arith­metic in 1552, and his al­ge­bra en­ti­tled The Whet­stone of Witte, which is the sec­ond part of Arith­metik, in 1557. This work, which is writ­ten in the form of a di­alogue, close­ly re­sem­bles the works of Stifel and Scheube­lius, the lat­ter of whom he of­ten quotes. It in­cludes the prop­er­ties of num­bers; ex­trac­tion of roots of arith­meti­cal and al­ge­braical quan­ti­ties, so­lu­tions of sim­ple and quadrat­ic equa­tions, and a fair­ly com­plete ac­count of surds. He in­tro­duced the sign (=) for equal­ity, and the terms bi­no­mi­al and resid­ual. Of oth­er writ­ers who pub­lished works about the end of the 16th cen­tu­ry, we may men­tion Jacques Peleti­er, or Ja­cobus Pele­tar­ius (De oc­cul­ta par­to Nu­mero­rum, quare Al­ge­bram vo­cant, 1558); Petrus Ra­mus (Arith­meti­cae Lib­ri duo et toti­dem Al­ge­brae, 1560), and Christoph Clav­ius, who wrote on al­ge­bra in 1580, though it was not pub­lished un­til 1608. At this time al­so flour­ished Si­mon Stev­inus (Stevin) of Bruges, who pub­lished an arith­metic in 1585 and an al­ge­bra short­ly af­ter­wards. These works pos­sess con­sid­er­able orig­inal­ity, and con­tain many new im­prove­ments in al­ge­bra­ic no­ta­tion; the un­known (res) is de­not­ed by a small cir­cle, in which he places an in­te­ger cor­re­spond­ing to the pow­er. He in­tro­duced the terms multi­no­mi­al, tri­no­mi­al, quadri­no­mi­al, &c., and con­sid­er­ably sim­pli­fied the no­ta­tion for dec­imals.

About the be­gin­ning of the 17th cen­tu­ry var­ious math­emat­ical works by Fran­cis­cus Vi­eta were pub­lished, which were af­ter­wards col­lect­ed by Franz van Schooten and re­pub­lished in 1646 at Lei­den. These works ex­hib­it great orig­inal­ity and mark an im­por­tant epoch in the his­to­ry of al­ge­bra. Vi­eta, who does not avail him­self of the dis­cov­er­ies of his pre­de­ces­sors–the neg­ative roots of Car­dan, the re­vised no­ta­tion of Stifel and Stevin, &c.–in­tro­duced or pop­ular­ized many new terms and sym­bols, some of which are still in use. He de­notes quan­ti­ties by the let­ters of the al­pha­bet, re­tain­ing the vow­els for the un­known and the con­so­nants for the knowns; he in­tro­duced the vin­cu­lum and among oth­ers the terms co­ef­fi­cient, af­fir­ma­tive, neg­ative, pure and ad­ject­ed equa­tions. He im­proved the meth­ods for solv­ing equa­tions, and de­vised ge­omet­ri­cal con­struc­tions with the aid of the con­ic sec­tions. His method for de­ter­min­ing ap­prox­imate val­ues of the roots of equa­tions is far in ad­vance of the Hin­du method as ap­plied by Car­dan, and is iden­ti­cal in prin­ci­ple with the meth­ods of Sir Isaac New­ton and W. G. Horner.

We have next to con­sid­er the works of Al­bert Gi­rard, a Flem­ish math­emati­cian. This writ­er, af­ter hav­ing pub­lished an edi­tion of Stevin’s works in 1625, pub­lished in 1629 at Am­ster­dam a small tract on al­ge­bra which shows a con­sid­er­able ad­vance on the work of Vi­eta. Gi­rard is in­con­sis­tent in his no­ta­tion, some­times fol­low­ing Vi­eta, some­times Stevin; he in­tro­duced the new sym­bols ff. for greater than and sec. for less than; he fol­lows Vi­eta in us­ing the plus (+) for ad­di­tion, he de­notes sub­trac­tion by Recorde’s sym­bol for equal­ity (=), and he had no sign for equal­ity but wrote the word out. He pos­sessed clear ideas of in­dices and the gen­er­ation of pow­ers, of the neg­ative roots of equa­tions and their ge­omet­ri­cal in­ter­pre­ta­tion, and was the first to use the term imag­inary roots. He al­so dis­cov­ered how to sum the pow­ers of the roots of an equa­tion.

Pass­ing over the in­ven­tion of log­arithms (q.v.) by John Napi­er, and their de­vel­op­ment by Hen­ry Brig­gs and oth­ers, the next au­thor of mo­ment was an En­glish­man, Thomas Har­riot, whose al­ge­bra (Ar­tis an­alyt­icae prax­is) was pub­lished posthu­mous­ly by Wal­ter Warn­er in 1631. Its great mer­it con­sists in the com­plete no­ta­tion and sym­bol­ism, which avoid­ed the cum­ber­some ex­pres­sions of the ear­li­er al­ge­braists, and re­duced the art to a form close­ly re­sem­bling that of to-​day. He fol­lows Vi­eta in as­sign­ing the vow­els to the un­known quan­ti­ties and the con­so­nants to the knowns, but in­stead of us­ing cap­itals, as with Vi­eta, he em­ployed the small let­ters; equal­ity he de­not­ed by Recorde’s sym­bol, and he in­tro­duced the signs > and < for greater than and less than. His prin­ci­pal dis­cov­ery is con­cerned with equa­tions, which he showed to be de­rived from the con­tin­ued mul­ti­pli­ca­tion of as many sim­ple fac­tors as the high­est pow­er of the un­known, and he was thus en­abled to de­duce re­la­tions be­tween the co­ef­fi­cients and var­ious func­tions of the roots. Men­tion may al­so be made of his chap­ter on in­equal­ities, in which he proves that the arith­metic mean is al­ways greater than the ge­omet­ric mean.

William Oughtred, a con­tem­po­rary of Har­riot, pub­lished an al­ge­bra, Clavis math­emat­icae, si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly with Har­riot’s trea­tise. His no­ta­tion is based on that of Vi­eta, but he in­tro­duced the sign X for mul­ti­pli­ca­tion, @ for con­tin­ued pro­por­tion, :: for pro­por­tion, and de­not­ed ra­tio by one dot. This last char­ac­ter has since been en­tire­ly re­strict­ed to mul­ti­pli­ca­tion, and ra­tio is now de­not­ed by two dots (:). His sym­bols for greater than and less than (@ and @) have been com­plete­ly su­per­seded by Har­riot’s signs`

So far the de­vel­op­ment of al­ge­bra and ge­om­etry had been mu­tu­al­ly in­de­pen­dent, ex­cept for a few iso­lat­ed ap­pli­ca­tions of ge­omet­ri­cal con­struc­tions to the so­lu­tion of al­ge­braical prob­lems. Cer­tain minds had long sus­pect­ed the ad­vairages which would ac­crue from the un­re­strict­ed ap­pli­ca­tion of al­ge­bra to ge­om­etry, but it was not un­til the ad­vent of the philoso­pher Rene Descartes that the co-​or­di­na­tion was ef­fect­ed. In his fa­mous Ge­ome­tria (1637), which is re­al­ly a trea­tise on the al­ge­bra­ic rep­re­sen­ta­tion of ge­omet­ric the­orems, he found­ed the mod­ern the­ory of an­alyt­ical ge­om­etry (see GE­OM­ETRY), and at the same time he ren­dered sig­nal ser­vice to al­ge­bra, more es­pe­cial­ly in the the­ory of equa­tions. His no­ta­tion is based pri­mar­ily on that of Har­riot; but he dif­fers from that writ­er in re­tain­ing the first let­ters of the al­pha­bet for the known quan­ti­ties and the fi­nal let­ters for the un­knowns.

The 17th cen­tu­ry is a fa­mous epoch in the progress of sci­ence, and the math­emat­ics in no way lagged be­hind. The dis­cov­er­ies of Jo­hann Ke­pler and Bonaven­tu­ra Cav­alieri were the foun­da­tion up­on which Sir Isaac New­ton and Got­tfried Wil­helm Leib­nitz erect­ed that won­der­ful ed­ifice, the In­finites­imal Cal­cu­lus (q.v..) Many new fields were opened up, but there was still con­tin­ual progress in pure al­ge­bra. Con­tin­ued frac­tions, one of the ear­li­est ex­am­ples of which is Lord Brounck­er’s ex­pres­sion for the ra­tio of the cir­cum­fer­ence to the di­am­eter of a cir­cle (see CIR­CLE), were elab­orate­ly dis­cussed by John Wal­lis and Leon­hard Eu­ler; the con­ver­gen­cy of se­ries treat­ed by New­ton, Eu­ler and the Bernoullis; the bi­no­mi­al the­orem, due orig­inal­ly to New­ton and sub­se­quent­ly ex­pand­ed by Eu­ler and oth­ers, was used by Joseph Louis La­grange as the ba­sis of his Cal­cul des Fonc­tions. Dio­phan­tine prob­lems were re­vived by Gas­par Ba­chet, Pierre Fer­mat and Eu­ler; the mod­ern the­ory of num­bers was found­ed by Fer­mat and de­vel­oped by Eu­ler, La­grange and oth­ers; and the the­ory of prob­abil­ity was at­tacked by Blaise Pas­cal and Fer­mat, their work be­ing sub­se­quent­ly ex­pand­ed by James Bernoul­li, Abra­ham de Moivre, Pierre Si­mon Laplace and oth­ers. The germs of the the­ory of de­ter­mi­nants are to be found in the works of Leib­nitz; Eti­enne Be­zout uti­lized them in 1764 for ex­press­ing the re­sult ob­tained by the pro­cess of elim­ina­tion known by his name, and since re­stat­ed by Arthur Cay­ley.

In re­cent times many math­emati­cians have for­mu­lat­ed oth­er kinds of al­ge­bras, in which the op­er­ators do not obey the laws of or­di­nary al­ge­bra. This study was in­au­gu­rat­ed by George Pea­cock, who was one of the ear­li­est math­emati­cians to rec­og­nize the sym­bol­ic char­ac­ter of the fun­da­men­tal prin­ci­ples of al­ge­bra. About the same time, D. F. Gre­go­ry pub­lished a pa­per “on the re­al na­ture of sym­bol­ical al­ge­bra.” In Ger­many the work of Mar­tin Ohm (Sys­tem der Math­ematik, 1822) marks a step for­ward. No­table ser­vice was al­so ren­dered by Au­gus­tus de Mor­gan, who ap­plied log­ical anal­ysis to the laws of math­emat­ics.

The ge­omet­ri­cal in­ter­pre­ta­tion of imag­inary quan­ti­ties had a far-​reach­ing in­flu­ence on the de­vel­op­ment of sym­bol­ic al­ge­bras. The at­tempts to elu­ci­date this ques­tion by H. Kuhn (1750-1751) and Jean Robert Ar­gand (1806) were com­plet­ed by Karl Friedrich Gauss, and the for­mu­la­tion of var­ious sys­tems of vec­tor anal­ysis by Sir William Rowan Hamil­ton, Her­mann Grass­mann and oth­ers, fol­lowed. These al­ge­bras were es­sen­tial­ly ge­omet­ri­cal, and it re­mained, more or less, for the Amer­ican math­emati­cian Ben­jamin Peirce to de­vise sys­tems of pure sym­bol­ic al­ge­bras; in this work he was ably sec­ond­ed by his son Charles S. Peirce. In Eng­land, mul­ti­ple al­ge­bra was de­vel­oped by James Joseph Sylvester, who, in com­pa­ny with Arthur Cay­ley, ex­pand­ed the the­ory of ma­tri­ces, the germs of which are to be found in the writ­ings of Hamil­ton (see above, un­der (B); and QUATER­NIONS.)

The pre­ced­ing sum­ma­ry shows the spe­cial­ized na­ture which al­ge­bra has as­sumed since the 17th cen­tu­ry. To at­tempt a his­to­ry of the de­vel­op­ment of the var­ious top­ics in this ar­ti­cle is in­ap­pro­pri­ate, and we re­fer the read­er to the sep­arate ar­ti­cles.

REF­ER­ENCES.—The his­to­ry of al­ge­bra is treat­ed in all his­tor­ical works on math­emat­ics in gen­er­al (see MATH­EMAT­ICS: Ref­er­ences.) Greek al­ge­bra can be spe­cial­ly stud­ied in T. L. Heath’s Dio­phan­tus. See al­so John Wal­lis, Opera Math­emat­ica (1693-1699), and Charles Sut­ton, Math­emat­ical and Philo­soph­ical Dic­tio­nary (1815), ar­ti­cle “Al­ge­bra.” (C. E.*)

[The ar­ti­cle on Al­ge­bra­ic Forms is type­set in TeX and is avail­able else­where.]

AL­GE­CI­RAS, or AL­GEZI­RAS, a sea­port of south­ern Spain in the province of Cadiz, 6 m. W. of Gibral­tar, on the op­po­site side of the Bay of Al­ge­ci­ras. Pop. (1900) 13,302. Al­ge­ci­ras stands at the head of a rail­way from Grana­da, but its on­ly means of ac­cess to Gibral­tar is by wa­ter. Its name, which sig­ni­fies in Ara­bic the is­land, is de­rived from a small islet on one side of the har­bour. It is sup­plied with wa­ter by means of a beau­ti­ful aque­duct. The fine win­ter cli­mate of Al­ge­ci­ras at­tracts many in­valid vis­itors, on whom the town large­ly de­pends for its pros­per­ity. The har­bour is bad, but at the be­gin­ning of the 20th cen­tu­ry it be­came im­por­tant as a fish­ing-​sta­tion. Whit­ing, soles, bream, bass and oth­er fish are caught in great quan­ti­ties by the Al­ge­ci­ras steam-​trawlers, which vis­it the Mo­roc­can coast, as well as Span­ish and neu­tral wa­ters. There is al­so some trade in farm pro­duce and build­ing ma­te­ri­als which sup­plies a fleet of small coast­ers with car­go.

Al­ge­ci­ras was per­haps the Por­tus Al­bus of the Ro­mans, but it was prob­ably re­found­ed in 713 by the Moors, who re­tained pos­ses­sion of it un­til 1344. It was then tak­en by Alphon­so XI. of Castile af­ter a cel­ebrat­ed siege of twen­ty months, which at­tract­ed Cru­saders from all parts of Eu­rope; among them be­ing the En­glish earl of Der­by, grand­son of Ed­ward III. It is said that dur­ing this siege gun­pow­der was first used by the Moors in the wars of Eu­rope. The Moor­ish city was de­stroyed by Alphon­so; it was first re­oc­cu­pied by Span­ish colonists from Gibral­tar in 1704; and the mod­ern town was erect­ed in 1760 by King Charles III. Dur­ing the siege of Gibral­tar in 1780- 1782, Al­ge­ci­ras was the sta­tion of the Span­ish fleet and float­ing bat­ter­ies. On the 6th of Ju­ly 1801 the En­glish ad­mi­ral Sir James Saumarez at­tacked a Fran­co-​Span­ish fleet off Al­ge­ci­ras, and sus­tained a re­verse; but on the 12th he again at­tacked the en­emy, whose fleet was dou­ble his own strength, and in­flict­ed on them a com­plete de­feat. The im­por­tant in­ter­na­tion­al con­fer­ence on Mo­roc­can af­fairs, which re­sult­ed in an agree­ment be­tween France and Ger­many, was held at Al­ge­ci­ras from the 16th of Jan­uary to the 7th of April 1906. (See MO­ROC­CO.)

AL­GER OF LIEGE (d c. 1131), known al­so as AL­GER OF CLUNY and AL­GERUS MAG­IS­TER, a learned French priest who lived in the first half of the 12th cen­tu­ry. He was first a dea­con of the church of St Bartholomew at Liege, his na­tive town, and was then ap­point­ed (c. 1100) to the cathe­dral church of St Lam­bert. He de­clined many of­fers from Ger­man bish­ops and fi­nal­ly re­tired to the monastery of Cluny, where he died about 1131 at a great age and leav­ing a good rep­uta­tion for piety and in­tel­li­gence. His His­to­ry of the Church of Liege, and many of his oth­er works, are lost. The most im­por­tant of those still ex­tant are: 1. De Mis­eri­cor­dia et Justi­tia, a col­lec­tion of bib­li­cal and pa­tris­tic ex­tracts with a com­men­tary (an im­por­tant work for the his­to­ry of church law and dis­ci­pline), which is to be found in the Anec­do­ta of Martene, vol. v. 2. De Sacra­men­tis Cor­poris et San­gui­nis Do­mi­ni; a trea­tise, in three books, against the Beren­gar­ian heresy, high­ly com­mend­ed by Pe­ter of Cluny and Eras­mus. 3. De Gra­tia et Libero Ar­bi­trio; giv­en in B. Pez’s Anec­do­ta, vol. iv. 4. De Sac­ri­fi­cio Mis­sae; giv­en in the Col­lec­tio Scrip­tor. Vet. of An­ge­lo Mai, vol. ix. p. 371.

See Migne, Pa­trol Ser. Lat. vol. clxxx. pp. 739-.972; Her­zog- Hauck, Realen­cyk.fur prot. The­ol., art. by S. M. Deutsch.

AL­GER, RUS­SELL ALEXAN­DER (1836–1907), Amer­ican sol­dier and politi­cian, was born in Lafayette town­ship, Med­ina coun­ty, Ohio, on the 27th of Febru­ary 1836. Left an or­phan at an ear­ly age, he worked on a farm to pay his ex­pens­es at Rich­field (Ohio) Acade­my, was a school­mas­ter for two win­ters, and, hav­ing stud­ied law in the mean­time, was ad­mit­ted to the bar in 1859. He be­gan prac­tice at Cleve­land, Ohio, but ear­ly in 1860 he re­moved to Michi­gan, where he aban­doned his pro­fes­sion and en­gaged in the lum­ber busi­ness. En­list­ing in a Michi­gan cav­al­ry reg­iment in Septem­ber 1861, he rose from cap­tain to colonel, dis­tin­guished him­self in the Get­tys­burg cam­paign and un­der Sheri­dan in the Shenan­doah Val­ley, and in 1864 and 1865 re­spec­tive­ly re­ceived the brevets of brigadier-​gen­er­al and ma­jor-​gen­er­al of vol­un­teers. Af­ter the war he in­vest­ed ex­ten­sive­ly in pine lands in Michi­gan, and ac­cu­mu­lat­ed a large for­tune in the lum­ber busi­ness. In 1884 he was elect­ed gov­er­nor of Michi­gan on the Re­pub­li­can tick­et, serv­ing from 1885 to 1887. In 1889–1890 he was com­man­der-​in-​chief of the Grand Army of the Re­pub­lic. From 1897 to 1899 he was sec­re­tary of war in Pres­ident McKin­ley’s cab­inet. His ad­min­is­tra­tion of the war de­part­ment dur­ing the Span­ish-​Amer­ican War was severe­ly crit­icized for ex­trav­agance in army con­tracts, for un­pre­pared­ness, and for gene­tal in­ef­fi­cien­cy, charges which he an­swered in his The Span­ish-​Amer­ican War (1901). The ex­tent of his per­son­al re­spon­si­bil­ity is at least un­cer­tain. In 1902 he was ap­point­ed by the gov­er­nor of Michi­gan, and in 1903 was elect­ed by the state leg­is­la­ture, as Unit­ed States sen­ator to com­plete the un­ex­pired term of James Mcmil­lan (1838-1902). He died at Wash­ing­ton, D.C., on the 24th of Jan­uary 1907.

AL­GE­RIA (Al­gerie), a coun­try of North Africa be­long­ing to France, bound­ed N. by the Mediter­ranean, W. by Mo­roc­co, S. by the Sa­hara and E. by Tunisia. The bound­aries, how­ev­er, are in part not ac­cu­rate­ly de­ter­mined. Al­ge­ria ex­tends for about 650 m. along the coast, and stretch­es in­land from 320 to 380 m., ly­ing be­tween 2 deg. 10′ W. and 8 deg. 50, E., and 32 deg. and 37 deg. N. It is di­vid­ed, po­lit­ical­ly, in­to three de­part­ments– Oran in the west, Al­giers in the cen­tre and Con­stan­tine in the east. Its area is 184,474 sq. m., ex­clu­sive of the de­pen­dent Sa­ha­ran re­gions, which have an area of some 750,000 sq. m. (see SA­HARA, TU­AT, &c.).

Phys­ical Fea­tures.–The char­ac­ter of the Al­ge­ri­an coast is se­vere and in­hos­pitable. The west­ern half is bor­dered by a hilly ram­part, bro­ken on­ly here and there, in the bays where the larg­er streams find their out­let, by flat and sandy plains. Be­tween Dellys and Philippeville high moun­tains rise al­most sheer from the sea, leav­ing on­ly a nar­row strip of beach. East of Philippeville the moun­tains re­cede from the coast, and the ram­part of hills reap­pears. On­ly be­tween Bona and La Calle is the gen­er­al char­ac­ter of the sea-​board low and sandy. Save near the towns and in the cul­ti­vat­ed dis­trict of Kabylia, the coast is bare and un­in­hab­it­ed; and in spite of nu­mer­ous in­den­ta­tions, of which the most im­por­tant go­ing from west to east are the Gulf of Oran, the Gulf of Arzeu, the Bay of Al­giers, and the gulfs of Bougie, Sto­ra and Bona, there are few good har­bours. From time im­memo­ri­al, in­deed, this coast has had an evil rep­uta­tion among mariners, quite apart from the pi­rates who for cen­turies made it the base of their depre­da­tions. A vi­olent cur­rent, start­ing from the Straits of Gibral­tar, rush­es east­ward along the shore, and, hurled back from the head­lands, is de­flect­ed to the West. In sum­mer the east wind brings dense and sud­den fogs; while in win­ter the norther­ly gales blow straight in­to the mouths of the har­bours. In these cir­cum­stances nav­iga­tion is es­pe­cial­ly per­ilous for sail­ing craft. The ter­rors of this “sav­age sea and in­hos­pitable shore,” once de­scribed by Sal­lust, have, how­ev­er, been great­ly mit­igat­ed by the in­tro­duc­tion of steam, the im­prove­ment of the har­bours, and the es­tab­lish­ment by the French gov­ern­ment of an ex­cel­lent sys­tem of light­hous­es.

South­ward from the sea the coun­try falls nat­ural­ly in­to three di­vi­sions, clear­ly dis­tin­guished by their broad phys­ical char­ac­ter­is­tics. The healthy, and on the whole fer­tile coast re­gion, from 50 to 100 m. in width, is known, as in Mo­roc­co and Tunisia. as the Tell (Ara­bic for “hill”). It is a moun­tain­ous coun­try in­ter­sect­ed with rocky canons and fer­tile val­leys, which oc­ca­sion­al­ly broad­en out in­to al­lu­vial plains like that of the She­lif, or the Meti­ja near Al­giers, or those in the neigh­bour­hood of Oran and Bona. Be­hind the Tell is a lofty ta­ble-​land with an av­er­age el­eva­tion of 3000 ft., con­sist­ing of vast plains, for the most part arid or cov­ered with es­par­to grass, in the de­pres­sions of which are great salt lakes and swamps (Ara­bic, shats) fed by streams which can find no out­let to the sea through the en­cir­cling hills. To the south this re­gion is di­vid­ed by the Great At­las from the deserts of the Sa­hara, with its oases, in which the bound­ary of Al­ge­ria is lost.

The coun­try is tra­versed by lofty ranges of the At­las sys­tem, which run near­ly par­al­lel to the coast, and rise in places over 7000 ft. These are com­mon­ly di­vid­ed in­to two lead­ing chains, dis­tin­guished as the Great1 and Lit­tle At­las. The Great, or Sa­ha­ran At­las con­tains some of the high­est points in the coun­try. The chief ranges are Ksur and Amur in the west and the Au­res in the east. The peak of Shel­lia, the high­est point in Al­ge­ria, in the Au­res range, has a height of 7611 ft. In the Amur are Jebel Ksel (6594 ft.) and Tu­ila Mak­na (6561 ft.). The Lit­tle At­las, oth­er­wise the Tell or Mar­itime At­las, lies be­tween the sea and the Sa­ha­ran At­las, and is com­posed of many dis­tinct ranges, gen­er­al­ly of no great el­eva­tion and con­nect­ed by nu­mer­ous trans­verse chains form­ing ex­ten­sive ta­ble-​lands and el­evat­ed val­leys. The prin­ci­pal ranges of the Lit­tle At­las–from west to east–are the Tlem­cen (5500 ft.); the Warse­nis (with Kef Si­di Omar, 6500 ft.); the Ti­teri (4900 ft.); the Ju­rju­ra, with the peak of Lal­la Kedi­ja (7542 ft.) and Mount Ba­bor (6447 ft.); and the Mejer­da (3700 ft.), which ex­tends in­to Tunisia. The Ju­rju­ra range, form­ing the back­ground of the plains be­tween Al­giers and Bougie, ex­tends through the dis­trict of Kabylia, with which for grandeur of scenery no oth­er part of Al­ge­ria can com­pare. South of the Ju­rju­ra and sep­arat­ed from it by the val­ley of the Sa­hel, is the Biban range with a fa­mous dou­ble pass of the same name, through which alone ac­cess is gained to the high­lands be­yond. The Bibans or Portes de fer (Iron Gates) con­sist of two de­files with stu­pen­dous walls of rock, which by ero­sion have as­sumed the most fan­tas­tic shapes. In the case of the Pe­tite porte the walls in some places are not more than twelve feet apart. The Dahra range (see MOSTA­GANEM) over­looks the sea, and is sep­arat­ed from the Warse­nis by the val­ley of the She­lif (see AT­LAS MOUN­TAINS, SA­HARA and TU­AT.)

The rivers are nu­mer­ous but the ma­jor­ity are short. Most of them rise in the moun­tains near the coast, and rush down through deep and rocky chan­nels. Dur­ing the rainy sea­son they ren­der com­mu­ni­ca­tion be­tween dif­fer­ent parts of the coun­try ex­treme­ly dif­fi­cult. The most im­por­tant riv­er, both from its length and vol­ume, is the She­lif. It ris­es on the north­ern slopes of the Amur moun­tains and flows N.E. across the high plateau, pierc­ing the lit­tle At­las be­tween the Warse­nis and Ti­teri ranges. It then turns W. and reach­es the Mediter­ranean at the east­ern end of the Gulf of Arzeu. The She­lif, which has many trib­utaries, is about 430 m. long. The Sey­buse (about 150 m. long), formed by the union of sev­er­al small streams in the de­part­ment of Con­stan­tine, runs through a fer­tile val­ley and reach­es the Mediter­ranean near Bona. The Sa­hel (about 100 m. long), which con­tains the great­est body of wa­ter af­ter the She­lif, ris­es in the de­part­ment of Al­giers near Au­male, and flows for the most part N.E. to its mouth near Bougie. The Ke­bir or Rum­mel–the riv­er is known by both names–is formed by the union of sev­er­al small streams south of Con­stan­tine, and flows past that town N.W. 140 m. to the sea. Among the less im­por­tant rivers which emp­ty in­to the Mediter­ranean are the Mac­ta, the Tafna, the Har­rach and the Mazafran. The Mac­ta, but 3 m. long, en­ters the sea in the Gulf of Arzeu, some 25 m. W. of the mouth of the She­lif. It is formed by the Habra (140 m.) and the Sig (130 m.), which rise in the Amur moun­tains and flow­ing north unite in a marshy plain, whence is­sues the Mac­ta. On the low­er cours­es of the Habra and the Sig, bar­rages have been built for ir­ri­ga­tion pur­pos­es. The Habra bar­rage holds 38,000,000 cu­bic me­tres; that on the Sig 18,000,000. The Tafna (about 100 m.) ris­es in a large cav­ern in the moun­tains south of Tlem­cen and flows N.E. to the sea at Rach­gun. It has many af­flu­ents; the largest, the Iss­er (70 m.), joins it on the east bank about 30 m. above its mouth. The Har­rach (40 m.), a pic­turesque stream, en­ters the Mediter­ranean in the Bay of Al­giers. The Mazafran (50 m.) cross­es the plains S.W of Al­giers, reach­ing the sea N. of Kolea. The Mejer­da and its af­flu­ent the Mel­legue, rivers of Tunisia (q.v.), have their rise in Al­ge­ria, in the moun­tain­ous coun­try east of Con­stan­tine. None of these rivers is nav­iga­ble. Be­sides these there are a num­ber of streams in the in­te­ri­or, but they are usu­al­ly dry ex­cept in the rainy sea­son.

Al­ge­ria abounds in ex­ten­sive salt lakes and marsh­es. Of the lakes in the north­ern part of the coun­try near the coast the prin­ci­pal are,–the Fezara, 14 m. S.W. of Bona; Se­bkha and El Melah, south of Oran; and three small lakes in the im­me­di­ate vicin­ity of La Calle. In the high plateaus are the Shat-​el-​Ghar­bi or West­ern Shat, the Shat-​el-​Sher­gui or East­ern Shat, the Zarhez- Ghar­bi and the Zarhez-​Sher­gui, the Shat-​el-​Hod­na and a num­ber of oth­ers. South of the Jebel Au­res is an­oth­er se­ries of salt lakes close­ly con­nect­ed with the Shat-​el-​Jerid (of Tunisia). The chief of these is the Shat Mel­rir. There are a num­ber of warm min­er­al springs, con­tain­ing prin­ci­pal­ly salts of lime, used with suc­cess by both Arabs and Eu­ro­peans in sev­er­al kinds of dis­ease.

One of the most re­mark­able groups of springs is near Guel­ma, in the de­part­ment of Con­stan­tine. There are two prin­ci­pal sources. Their wa­ters unite in one stream whose course is marked by gi­gan­tic lime­stone cones, some of which are 36 ft. high. The wa­ter, which is at boil­ing point, falls in­to nat­ural basins of a creamy white colour, formed by the de­posit of car­bon­ate of lime. The springs are known to the Arabs as Ham­mam Meskutin (the “ac­cursed baths”). The name and the cones are ac­count­ed for by a leg­end which rep­re­sents that at this spot lived a sheikh who, find­ing his sis­ter too beau­ti­ful to be mar­ried to any­one else, de­ter­mined to es­pouse her him­self. Whilst the mar­riage fes­tiv­ities were be­ing cel­ebrat­ed the judg­ment of Heav­en de­scend­ed on the guilty pair; fire came from be­low; the wa­ter be­came hot and the sheikh and his sis­ter were turned in­to stone. With­in a mile of Ham­mam Meskutin are fer­rug­inous and sul­phure­ous springs.

[Ge­ol­ogy.–The ge­ol­ogy of Al­ge­ria has been worked out in con­sid­er­able de­tail by French ge­ol­ogists. Rocks of Archean and Palaeo­zoic ages con­tribute on­ly a small share, but there is a very com­plete se­quence of for­ma­tions from the Lias to those of re­cent date. An in­ter­est­ing and or­der­ly petro­log­ical se­quence of Ter­tiary ig­neous rocks has been de­ter­mined.

Archean rocks form the cores of the an­cient crys­talline mass­es with­in the lit­toral zone from Al­giers to Bona. They con­sist of gneiss, mi­ca-​schist, quartzites, crys­talline lime­stones and con­glom­er­ates. Pri­ma­ry de­posits are doubt­ful­ly rep­re­sent­ed by the de­tached frag­ments of un­fos­sil­if­er­ous stra­ta of Traras, Bl­ida and east of Or­leansville. Car­bonif­er­ous and Per­mi­an stra­ta are pos­si­bly rep­re­sent­ed by some black and grey mi­ca­ceous shales with beds of coal in the Ju­rju­ra. At Jebel-​ka­har and west of Traras, Pomel at­tributes cer­tain con­glom­er­ates, red sand­stones and pur­ple and green shales to the Per­mi­an. The rocks of Sec­ondary and Ter­tiary ages have been pro­found­ly af­fect­ed by the Alpine move­ments, and are thrown in­to a se­ries of com­plex folds, so that in nu­mer­ous in­stances their stratig­ra­phy is im­per­fect­ly un­der­stood. The gyp­sif­er­ous and sal­if­er­ous marls of Shel­la­ta, Suk Ahras and Ain Nus­si have yield­ed Tri­as­sic fos­sils. Tri­as­sic rocks are con­sid­ered to be present in Con­stan­tine and in the Ju­rju­ra. Rhaet­ic beds (In­fra Lias), con­sist­ing of dolomites and siliceous lime­stones, have been rec­og­nized at Sai­da. The low­er and mid­dle di­vi­sions of the Juras­sic, com­posed of mas­sive lime­stones more or less siliceous and over­lain by the marls and high­ly fos­sil­if­er­ous lime­stones of the Up­per Lias, play an im­por­tant part in the con­sti­tu­tion of the chief moun­tains of the Tell. In south Oran they de­ter­mine the prin­ci­pal ax­es of the moun­tain ranges. The In­fe­ri­or Cre­ta­ceous rocks in­clude the Neo­co­mi­an and Gault (Al­bian and Ap­tian) sub­di­vi­sions, and form the flanks of the moun­tains in the Tell. In the south the Al­bian sub­di­vi­sion of the Gault is alone rep­re­sent­ed. Rocks of Up­per Cre­ta­ceous age are rep­re­sent­ed in all their stages. The Ceno­ma­ni­an presents two dis­tinct fa­cies. North of the At­las it be­longs to the Eu­ro­pean type, in the south it con­tains a fau­na of oys­ters and sea-​urchins be­long­ing to the fa­cies “africano-​syr­ian” of Zit­tel. There is a con­tin­uous tran­si­tion be­tween the Senon­ian and Da­ni­an, prov­ing that the Al­ge­ri­an re­gion did not par­tic­ipate in the im­mer­sion which oc­curred in Provence and in the Cor­bieres of south­ern France dur­ing the Da­ni­an epoch. The Low­er Eocene rocks con­tain the chief phos­phat­ic de­posits of Al­ge­ria, those of the Tebessa re­gion be­ing the best known. Cer­tain species of num­mulites, which are very com­mon, dis­tin­guish the var­ious sub­di­vi­sions of the Eocene. The high­est beds, con­sist­ing of quartzites, shales, marls and sand­stones with the re­mains of fu­coids, are found in the Ju­rju­ra and Shel­la­ta. The Oligocene pe­ri­od con­sists of a ma­rine phase con­fined to the lit­toral zone of Kahylia, and of a con­ti­nen­tal phase oc­cu­py­ing vast ar­eas com­posed of la­cus­trine, al­lu­vial, gyp­sif­er­ous marls, sand­stones and con­glom­er­ates. The Miocene for­ma­tion ob­tains its great­est de­vel­op­ment in Oran and is much ex­pand­ed in the Tell. At the close of the Low­er Miocene pe­ri­od (beds with Os­trea cras­sis­si­ma) great mod­ifi­ca­tions in the re­lief and lim­its of the Al­ge­ri­an for­ma­tions took place. Hith­er­to ma­rine con­di­tions were con­fined to the lit­toral; in Mid­dle Miocene times (Hel­ve­tian) the sea broke in and spread in a south-​east di­rec­tion in the form of long ram­ified fjords but did not ex­tend as far as the Sa­hara. To the Pliocene pe­ri­od the ma­rine de­posits of the Sa­hel of Al­giers and of the Sa­hel Ji­jel­li must be at­tribut­ed; al­so the la­cus­trine marls and lime­stone of the basin of Con­stan­tine, and the an­cient al­lu­vi­ums of the basins and de­pres­sions which bear no re­la­tion to the ex­ist­ing val­leys. Among the Ter­tiary vol­canic rocks those of acid types (gran­ites, gran­ulites) were the first to ap­pear and are de­vel­oped lat­itu­di­nal­ly; rocks of in­ter­me­di­ate type (dacites, an­desites) char­ac­ter­ize the Miocene and ear­ly Pliocene pe­ri­ods; while the ba­sic rocks (ophites, elae­olite syen­ites and basalts) at­tained their max­imum in lat­er Pliocene and Qua­ter­nary times. Their de­vel­op­ment, fee­ble as com­pared with the acid rocks, is merid­ion­al. The Qua­ter­nary pe­ri­od in­cludes an old­er stage con­tain­ing frag­ments of fos­sils from the un­der­ly­ing for­ma­tions; a lat­er stage con­tain­ing the bones of Hip­popota­mus, Ele­phas, Rhinoceros, Camelus, Equ­us; and fi­nal­ly the vast ac­cu­mu­la­tions of sand which be­gan to be formed in pre­his­toric times. The broad plat­forms of the hama­da are cov­ered with Qua­ter­nary de­posits. (W. G.*)]

CI­imate.–Al­though Al­ge­ria en­joys a warm cli­mate, the tem­per­ature varies con­sid­er­ably in dif­fer­ent parts, ac­cord­ing to the el­eva­tion and con­fig­ura­tion of the coun­try. Along the coast the weath­er is very mild, the ther­mome­ter rarely falling to freez­ing-​point even in win­ter. The cold­est month is Jan­uary, the hottest Au­gust. The mean an­nu­al tem­per­ature in the coast plains is 66 deg. F. Heavy rains pre­vail from De­cem­ber to March, and rain is not un­com­mon dur­ing oth­er months al­so, ex­cept­ing June, Ju­ly, Au­gust and Septem­ber, which are very hot and rain­less. The av­er­age an­nu­al fall is 29 in. On the moun­tains and the high plateaus the win­ter is of­ten very se­vere; snow lies for six months on the high­er peaks of the Kabyle moun­tains. On the plateaus the tem­per­ature pass­es from one ex­treme to the oth­er, and rain sel­dom falls. (For the cli­mate of the Sa­ha­ran re­gion see SA­HARA.) Through­out Al­ge­ria, es­pe­cial­ly in the sum­mer, there is a great dif­fer­ence be­tween day and night tem­per­ature, no­tably in the in­land dis­tricts. Be­tween May and Septem­ber the siroc­co, or hot wind of the desert, sweeps at in­ter­vals over the coun­try, im­preg­nat­ing the air with fine sand; but in gen­er­al, with the ex­cep­tion of the vicin­ity of the marsh­es, the cli­mate is healthy. Its salubri­ty has been in­creased by the drain­ing of many marsh­es in the neigh­bour­hood of the larg­er towns.

Fau­na and Flo­ra.–The fau­na of Al­ge­ria re­sem­bles that of the Mediter­ranean sys­tem gen­er­al­ly, though many an­imals once com­mon to South Eu­rope and North Africa–such as the li­on, pan­ther, hye­na and jack­al–are now ex­tinct in Eu­rope. Li­ons, for­mer­ly plen­ti­ful, have dis­ap­peared, and leop­ards and pan­thers are rare; but jack­als, hye­nas and Al­ge­ri­an apes are not un­com­mon. Wild boars are found in the oak forests, and brown bears in the up­lands. In the south are var­ious species of an­te­lope and wild goat. Red deer (Cervus ela­phus bar­barus), which dif­fer from the typ­ical Eu­ro­pean species on­ly in the fact that the sec­ond tine is ab­sent from their antlers, a pe­cu­liar­ity which they share with the red deer of Spain and Cor­si­ca, are still found in the for­est of Beni Saleh in the de­part­ment of Con­stan­tine, but are be­ing ex­ter­mi­nat­ed by for­est fires and poach­ing Arabs. Of do­mes­tic an­imals the camel and sheep are the most im­por­tant. The chief wealth of the Arab tribes of the plateaus con­sists in their im­mense flocks of sheep. The hors­es and mules of Al­ge­ria are not­ed; and the na­tive cat­tle are an ex­cel­lent stock on which to graft the bet­ter Eu­ro­pean va­ri­eties. Of birds, ea­gles, vul­tures, hawks, owls and quails are com­mon; snipe, curlews, plovers, storks and herons fre­quent the marshy parts; and the os­trich the desert. Par­tridges and wood­cocks are fair­ly com­mon. Among the rep­tiles are var­ious species of ser­pents, tor­tois­es, tur­tles, lizards, &c. Lo­custs are com­mon and some­times do great dam­age. Scor­pi­ons are nu­mer­ous in the acid re­gions. Al­ge­ri­an prawns, es­pe­cial­ly those of Bona, are large and of a del­icate flavour. Of the twen­ty-​one species of fresh­wa­ter fish, five are pe­cu­liar to the coun­try, but none is of much eco­nom­ic val­ue save the bar­bel and eel. A species of trout is found in the streams near Col­lo, but in none of the oth­er rivers.

The flo­ra of Al­ge­ria con­sists of about 3000 species, of which some 450 are in­dige­nous to the coun­try, 100 be­ing pe­cu­liar to the Sa­hara. The flo­ra of the Tell is South Eu­ro­pean in char­ac­ter. The agave and prick­ly pear, the myr­tle, the olive and the dwarf palm grow lux­uri­ant­ly; and the fields are cov­ered with nar­cis­sus, iris and oth­er flow­ers of ev­ery hue. Ros­es, gera­ni­ums, and the like, bloom through­out the win­ter. The flo­ra of the high plateaus con­sists chiefly of grass­es, no­tably var­ious kinds of al­fa or es­par­to, and aro­mat­ic herbs. In the Sa­ha­ran oases the char­ac­ter­is­tic tree is the date palm–“the king of the desert.” Over 11,000 sq. m. of the moun­tain­ous coun­try near the coast are cov­ered with forests of var­ious species of oak, pine, fir, cedar, elm, ash, maple, olive, many of them of gi­gan­tic size, and oth­er trees; and on the slopes of the moun­tains up to 3800 ft. above the sea the fig is com­mon. Its fruit forms one of the sta­ple ar­ti­cles of food among the Kabyles. Cork and carob trees are al­so very com­mon. A mag­nif­icent conifer, the At­lantic pin­sapo (Abies Pin­sapo), is found on the heights round Bougie. The forests suf­fer great dam­age from fires, oc­ca­sioned in part by the cus­tom of burn­ing up the grass ev­ery au­tumn, and in part by in­cen­di­arism. In 1902 alone, ac­cord­ing to the British con­sular re­port, “at a mod­er­ate es­ti­mate the num­ber of trees dam­aged or de­stroyed might be put down at 6,000,000.” Forestry is a state-​pro­tect­ed in­dus­try, the gov­ern­ment own­ing over 500,000 acres of for­est. The chief tree which has com­mer­cial val­ue is the cork, and the strip­ping of the bark is un­der of­fi­cial su­per­vi­sion. The first cork har­vest was gath­ered in 1890, when 1474 cwt. were sold for L. 1361. Since that date the yield has been very great. An­oth­er tree of great com­mer­cial val­ue is the soap tree (Sapin­dus utilis), in­tro­duced in­to the coun­try in 1845 and grown ex­ten­sive­ly in low-​ly­ing lands near the coast.

In­hab­itants.–Al­ge­ria had in 1906 a pop­ula­tion of 5,231,850, con­sist­ing of a med­ley of Eu­ro­pean, East­ern and African races. The cen­sus showed that in ad­di­tion to French set­tlers and their de­scen­dants (278,976) there were 117,475 Spaniards (most of whom are found in the de­part­ment of Oran), 33,153 Ital­ians (chiefly in the de­part­ment of Con­stan­tine), 64,645 Jews, 6217 Mal­tese, and small­er com­mu­ni­ties of British, Ger­mans, Lev­an­tines and Greeks. There were, more­over, 170,444 nat­ural­ized French cit­izens, main­ly of Span­ish and Ital­ian ori­gin. (These fig­ures are ex­clu­sive of 73,790 per­sons count­ed apart, as not en­joy­ing mu­nic­ipal rights. In the 73,799 the troops, French and na­tive, are in­clud­ed). The to­tal Eu­ro­pean pop­ula­tion, in which cat­ego­ry are reck­oned the Jews, oth­er than those of Mz­ab, was 680,263. Com­pared with the cen­sus of 1901 the fig­ures of 1906 showed a de­crease of 14,000 French, 36,000 Spaniards and 5000 Ital­ians, but an in­crease of near­ly 100,000 in the for­eign­ers nat­ural­ized. Of oth­er races: (1) The Berbers (q.v.) con­sti­tute 75% of the en­tire pop­ula­tion. The Kabyles (q.v.), a di­vi­sion of the Berbers, oc­cu­py chiefly the more moun­tain­ous parts of the Tell, but some live in the plains and val­leys. (2) Arabs, a nu­mer­ous class, are found prin­ci­pal­ly in the south. (3) The so-​called “Moors,” gen­er­al­ly of mixed blood, in­hab­it the towns and vil­lages near the sea-​coast. (4) Ne­groes, orig­inal­ly brought from the in­te­ri­or and sold as slaves, are now found chiefly in the towns, where they serve as labour­ers and do­mes­tic ser­vants. (5) Mz­abites (q.v.) or Beni-​Mz­ab, a dis­tinct branch of the Berber race, are for the most part en­gaged in pet­ty trade, and are dis­tin­guished by their sleeve­less coats of many colours. (6) A few Tu­areg (q.v.), an­oth­er di­vi­sion of the Berbers, are among the no­mads found in the Al­ge­ri­an Sa­hara. The Kabyles, Mz­abites, Tu­areg, Arabs and Moors all pro­fess Ma­hommedanism, though it is on­ly among the Arabs that its tenets are held in any pu­ri­ty. The cen­sus of 1906 gave the num­ber of the na­tive pop­ula­tion at 4,447,149. There were al­so 28,639 non-​Eu­ro­pean for­eign­ers in the coun­try.

The Turks, though for a con­sid­er­able pe­ri­od the dom­inant race, were nev­er very nu­mer­ous in Al­ge­ria. The ma­jor­ity of them were repa­tri­at­ed by the French. The Ku­luglis, de­scen­dants of Turks by na­tive wom­en–once a dis­tinct race not­ed for their en­er­gy, brav­ery and pride–have al­most ceased to ex­ist as a sep­arate peo­ple, be­ing merged in the Moors. Jews have long been set­tled in Al­ge­ria. Some are sup­posed to have fled thith­er when ex­pelled from Cyre­naica in the reign of the em­per­or Hadri­an, and oth­ers on their ban­ish­ment from Italy in 1342. The pure­ly “African” Jew is now found on­ly in the oases in the ex­treme south of the coun­try. In the towns the “na­tive” Jews have in­ter­mar­ried with lat­er ar­rivals from Eu­rope. A re­mark­able feast is kept an­nu­al­ly by the Al­ge­ri­an Jews to com­mem­orate the de­feat by the Turks of the em­per­or Charles V.’s at­tempt to cap­ture Al­giers (1541). The Jews, who en­joyed re­li­gious free­dom un­der the Ma­hommedans, be­lieved that the suc­cess of the Spaniards would but lead to their own per­se­cu­tion.

Chief Towns.–The chief towns are Al­giers, the cap­ital and prin­ci­pal sea­port, with a pop­ula­tion (1906), in­clud­ing Mustapha and oth­er sub­urbs, of 154,049; Oran (100,499),2 a west­ern sea­port and cap­ital of the de­part­ment of the same name, and Con­stan­tine (46,806), an in­land town, cap­ital of the de­part­ment of Con­stan­tine. Be­sides Al­giers and Oran the prin­ci­pal sea­ports are Bona (36,004), Mosta­ganem (19,528), Philippeville (16,539), Bougie (10,419), Cherchel (4733) and La Calle (2774). In­land, be­sides Con­stan­tine, are the im­por­tant towns of Tlem­cen ( 24,060), Si­di-​bel-​Abbes (24,494), Mas­cara (18,989) and Bl­ida (16,866). In the Sa­hara are Biskra (4218), El Wad (7586), Tug­gurt (2073) and War­gla (3579). All these places are sep­arate­ly no­ticed.

Nemours (1229) is a sea­port near the Mo­roc­can fron­tier, which for­mer­ly bore an Ara­bic name preg­nant with its his­to­ry –Ja­maa-​el-​Ghazu­at (“ren­dezvous of the pi­rates”). The sur­round­ing coun­try is rich in min­er­al wealth. Arzeu (3085) oc­cu­pies a site on the west­ern side of the gulf of the same name. It has a good har­bour, is the out­let for the pro­duce of sev­er­al fer­tile val­leys, and the start­ing-​point of a rail­way which pen­etrates in­to the Sa­hara. This rail­way pass­es Sai­da (6256), 106 m. south of Arzeu, one of the cap­itals of Abd-​el-​Kad­er, and serves to bring down from the high plateaus their rich crops of es­par­to grass. Four miles S.E. of Arzeu is a Berber vil­lage, where are in­ter­est­ing ru­ins of a Ro­man set­tle­ment, iden­ti­fied by some au­thor­ities as the Por­tus Mag­nus of Pliny; oth­er au­thor­ities claim Oran as oc­cu­py­ing the site of Por­tus Mag­nus. In the vicin­ity are the fa­mous quar­ries of Nu­mid­ian mar­bles. Tenes (3176) is a sea­port sit­uat­ed about 100 m. east of Arzeu on the site of the Phoeni­cian town, af­ter­wards the Ro­man colony, of Carten­na. Out­side the town to the west is a pub­lic gar­den in which are sev­er­al Ro­man tombs with in­scrip­tions. Be­tween Tenes and Al­giers are Tipasa (q.v.) and Cas­tiglione (1634), for­mer­ly called Bu-​Is­mail, both pleas­ant wa­ter­ing-​places. Five miles in­land west of Cas­tiglione is Kolea (2932), a town dat­ing from 1550 and orig­inal­ly peo­pled by Moslem refugees from Spain. It was de­stroyed by earth­quake in 1825 and has been re­built large­ly in Eu­ro­pean style. It con­tains the kub­ba of a cel­ebrat­ed marabout, Si­di Em­barek, who lived in the 17th cen­tu­ry. Dellys (3275), 50 m. by sea E. of Al­giers, has a small har­bour shel­tered from the W. and N.W. winds on­ly. It is a walled town reg­ular­ly laid out, built by the French on the site of the Ro­man Rus­curi­um, the west­ern ram­parts of which may still be seen. Ji­jel­li (4878), on the east­ern side of the Gulf of Bougie, oc­cu­pies the site of the Ro­man colony of Ig­ilgilis. The old town, built on a rocky penin­su­la, was com­plete­ly de­stroyed by earth­quake in 1856. A new town arose east­ward of the for­mer site, which is now re­stored as a citadel. Twen­ty miles by sea west of Philippeville is Col­lo (2258), a city of con­sid­er­able im­por­tance dur­ing the Ro­man oc­cu­pa­tion. It was the Kol­lops Mag­nus of Ptole­my.

Twen­ty-​three miles S.W. by rail from Al­giers is Bu­farik (the “hang­ing well”); pop. 5980. A thor­ough­ly French town, it dates from 1835, when Gen­er­al Drou­et d’Er­lon es­tab­lished there an en­trenched camp on a hillock in the midst of a pesti­len­tial swamp. Soon af­ter­wards Mar­shal Clausel be­gan to build a reg­ular city, which was at first called Med­ina Clausel in his hon­our. The drain­ing of the site and neigh­bour­hood was a cost­ly un­der­tak­ing, and was on­ly ac­com­plished by the sac­ri­fice of many lives. The town, sur­round­ed by vast or­chards and farms, is now one of the most flour­ish­ing in the coun­try; and the most im­por­tant mar­ket in the colony for the sale of cat­tle and agri­cul­tur­al pro­duce is held there. Six­ty-​three miles S.W. of Al­giers is Medea (4030)–sup­posed to stand on the site of a Ro­man town–fine­ly sit­uat­ed on a plateau 3000 ft. above the sea. It is sur­round­ed by a wall pierced by five gates. An an­cient aque­duct is built in­to the east­ern side of the wall. The town, which was cho­sen by the Turks as cap­ital of the bey­lik of Ti­teri, is now French in char­ac­ter. Mil­iana (3991), which oc­cu­pies the site of the Ro­man Mil­liana, lies about mid­way be­tween Bl­ida and Or­leansville, is 2400 ft. above the sea, and is built on a plateau of the Za­kkar moun­tains, com­mand­ing mag­nif­icent views of the val­ley of the She­lif. It pos­sess­es few re­mains of an­tiq­ui­ty. An old Moor­ish minaret has been turned in­to a clock tow­er. The town, which is walled, has been re­built by the French. The chief streets are bor­dered by trees and have streams of wa­ter run­ning down ei­ther side. Ham­mam R’Irha to the N.E. of Mil­iana, not­ed from the time of the Ro­mans for its ther­mal springs, oc­cu­pies a pic­turesque po­si­tion 1800 ft. above the sea. Be­ing the on­ly place with­in easy dis­tance of west­ern Eu­rope where pa­tients can take with safe­ty a course of baths dur­ing the win­ter months, it has be­come a re­sort of in­valids. Or­leansville (3510), on the ex­ten­sive plain of the She­lif, 130 m. S.W. by rail from Al­giers. and 132 m. N.E. from Oran, is an im­por­tant mil­itary sta­tion. The basil­ica of St Repara­tus, dis­cov­ered in 1843, was al­lowed to be used as a pub­lic sta­ble and has been com­plete­ly de­stroyed. There was in it a beau­ti­ful mo­sa­ic of which, for­tu­nate­ly, draw­ings ex­ist. From this it ap­pears that the church was built in A.D. 324, and that St Repara­tus, bish­op of the dio­cese, was buried in it in 475. Or­leansville oc­cu­pies the site of the Ro­man Castel­lum Tin­gi­tanum.

Nine­ty miles S.W. of Bougie is Au­male (2350), a town and mil­itary post es­tab­lished by the French in 1846 on the site of the an­cient Auzia. The Ro­man town was found­ed in the reign of Au­gus­tus, and it flour­ished for two cen­turies be­fore it dis­ap­peared from his­to­ry. Out of the ma­te­ri­als of the an­cient city the Turks built a fort, which at the time of the French oc­cu­pa­tion was it­self a heap of ru­ins. Setif (12,261), the Siti­fis Colo­nia of the Ro­mans, is 50 m. S.E. of Bougie and 97 m. by rail W. of Con­stan­tine. It stands 3573 ft. above the sea, and is the junc­tion of sev­er­al great lines of com­mu­ni­ca­tion. Its mar­ket is at­tend­ed by Kabyles, Arabs of the plateaus and peo­ple from the Sa­hara. The town has been en­tire­ly re­built in the French style. Most of the Ro­man ru­ins, even those ex­ist­ing at the time of the French oc­cu­pa­tion (1839), have dis­ap­peared. The walls of the Ro­man city, re­stored prob­ably by the Byzan­tines, have been in­cor­po­rat­ed in the French walls, which are pierced by four gates. Bat­na (5279), a walled town 3350 ft. above the sea, 50 m. S. of Con­stan­tine by the rail­way to Biskra, com­mands the pas­sage of the Au­res moun­tains by which the no­mads of the Sa­hara were wont to en­ter the Tell. Its im­por­tance rests on its strate­gic po­si­tion. On the rail­way be­tween Con­stan­tine and Bona and 76 m. from the lat­ter, is Guel­ma (6584), the Ro­man Kala­ma, fine­ly sit­uat­ed on the right bank of the Sey­buse. The French oc­cu­pied the place in 1836 and built their town out of the Ro­man ru­ins. Thir­ty miles S.E. of Guel­ma is Suk Ahras (7602), a sta­tion on the rail­way to Tu­nis, iden­ti­fied with the Ro­man city Tagaste, the birth­place of St Au­gus­tine.

Towns in the Sa­hara.–On the south­ern slopes of the Great At­las, 2437 ft. above the sea, look­ing out on the Sa­ha­ran desert, and 200 m. in a straight line S.W. of Al­giers, is the an­cient town of El Aghu­at (er­ro­neous­ly writ­ten Laghouat); pop. 5660. It for­mer­ly be­longed to Mo­roc­co, by whom it was ced­ed to the Turks to­wards the close of the 17th cen­tu­ry. It was stormed on the 4th of De­cem­ber 1852 by the French, who al­most en­tire­ly de­stroyed the Arab town. The mod­ern town con­tains lit­tle of in­ter­est, but is an im­por­tant mil­itary sta­tion. One hun­dred and twelve miles S. of El Aghu­at, and 36 m. W.N.W. of War­gla, is Gharda­ia (pop. 7868), the cap­ital of the Mz­ab coun­try, an­nexed by France in 1882. This coun­try con­sists of sev­en oases, five in close prox­im­ity and two iso­lat­ed. The town of Gharda­ia (in the lo­cal doc­uments Taghard­eit) is sit­uat­ed on a mosque-​crowned hill in the mid­dle of the Wa­di Mz­ab, 1755 ft. above the sea. Gharda­ia, which is di­vid­ed by walls in­to three quar­ters, is built of lime­stone and the hous­es are in ter­races one above the oth­er. The cen­tral quar­ter is the home of the rul­ing tribe, the Beni-​Mz­ab. The east­ern quar­ter be­longs to the Jews, of whom there are about 300 fam­ilies; the west­ern is oc­cu­pied by the Med­abia, Arabs from the Jebel Amur. The gar­dens be­long ex­clu­sive­ly to the Beni-​Mz­ab. Ac­cord­ing to na­tive ac­counts the town was found­ed about the mid­dle of the 16th cen­tu­ry. Aghrem Ba­ba Saad, a small ru­ined town to the west of Gharda­ia, is the for­ti­fied post in which the Beni-​Mz­ab took refuge when the Turks un­der Salah Rais (about 1555) at­tempt­ed un­suc­cess­ful­ly to sub­ju­gate the coun­try. Next to Gharda­ia the most im­por­tant Mz­abite town is Beni-​Is­guen (pop. 4916), an ac­tive trad­ing cen­tre. Guer­rara, one of the two iso­lat­ed oases, 37 m. N.E. of Gharda­ia, con­tains a flour­ish­ing com­mer­cial town with 1912 in­hab­itants. The car­avan route south from Gharda­ia brings the trav­eller, af­ter a jour­ney of 130 m., to the oa­sis and town of El Golea (pop. about 2500). The town con­sists of three por­tions–the citadel on a lime­stone hill, the up­per and the low­er town–sep­arat­ed by ir­reg­ular plan­ta­tions of date trees. The place is an im­por­tant sta­tion for the car­avan trade be­tween Al­ge­ria and the coun­tries to the south. It was oc­cu­pied by the French un­der Gen­er­al Gal­lifet in 1873. El Golea was orig­inal­ly a set­tle­ment of the Zena­ta Berbers, by whom it was known as Taor­ert, and there is still a con­sid­er­able Berber el­ement in its pop­ula­tion. The full Arab name is El Golea’a el Me­nia’a, or the “lit­tle fortress well de­fend­ed.”

Ar­chae­ol­ogy.–Al­ge­ria is rich in pre­his­toric memo­ri­als of man, es­pe­cial­ly in me­galith­ic re­mains, of which near­ly ev­ery known kind has been found in the coun­try. Nu­mer­ous flints of palae­olith­ic type have been dis­cov­ered, no­tably at Tlem­cen and Kolea. Near Jelfa, in the Great At­las, and at Mechera-​Sfa (“ford of the flat stones”), a penin­su­la in the val­ley of the riv­er Mi­na not far from Tiaret in the de­part­ment of Oran, are vast num­bers of me­galith­ic mon­uments. In the Kubr-​er-​Ru­mia–“grave of the Ro­man la­dy” (Ro­man be­ing used by the Arabs to des­ig­nate strangers of Chris­tian ori­gin)–the Medrassen and the Jedars, Al­ge­ria pos­sess­es a re­mark­able se­ries of sepul­chral mon­uments. The Kubr-​er-​Ru­mia–best known by its French name, Tombeau de la Chre­ti­enne, tra­di­tion mak­ing it the buri­al-​place of the beau­ti­ful and un­for­tu­nate daugh­ter of Count Ju­lian–is near Kolea, and is known to be the tomb of the Mau­re­ta­ni­an king Ju­ba II. and of his wife Cleopa­tra Se­lene, daugh­ter of Cleopa­tra, queen of Egypt, and Mark Antony. It is built on a hill 756 ft. above the sea. Rest­ing on a low­er plat­form, 209 ft. square, is a cir­cu­lar stone build­ing sur­mount­ed by a pyra­mid. Orig­inal­ly the mon­ument was about 130 ft. in height, but it has been wan­ton­ly dam­aged. Its height is now 100 ft. 8 in.: the cylin­dri­cal por­tion 36 ft. 6 in., the pyra­mid 64 ft. 2 in. The base, 198 ft. in di­am­eter, is or­na­ment­ed with 60 en­gaged Ion­ic columns. The cap­itals of the columns have dis­ap­peared, but their de­sign is pre­served among the draw­ings of James Bruce, the African trav­eller. In the cen­tre of the tomb are two vault­ed cham­bers, reached by a spi­ral pas­sage or gallery 6 1/2 ft. broad, about the same height and 489 ft. long. The sepul­chral cham­bers are sep­arat­ed by a short pas­sage, and are cut off from the gallery by stone doors made of a sin­gle slab which can be moved up and down by levers, like a portcullis. The larg­er of the two cham­bers is 142 ft. long by 11 ft. broad and 11 ft. high. The oth­er cham­ber is some­what small­er. The tomb was ear­ly vi­olat­ed, prob­ably in search of trea­sure. In 1555 Salah Rais, pasha of Al­giers, set men to work to pull it down, but the records say that the at­tempt was giv­en up be­cause big black wasps came from un­der the stones and stung them to death. At the end of the 18th cen­tu­ry Ba­ba Ma­hommed tried in vain to bat­ter down the tomb with ar­tillery. In 1866 it was ex­plored by or­der of the em­per­or Napoleon III., the work be­ing car­ried out by Adri­an Berbrug­ger and Os­car Mac­carthy.

The Medrassen is a mon­ument sim­ilar to the Kubr-​er-​Ru­mia, but old­er. It was built about 150 B.C. as the buri­al-​place of the Nu­mid­ian kings, and is sit­uat­ed 35 m. S.W. of Con­stan­tine. The form is that of a trun­cat­ed cone, placed on a cylin­dri­cal base, 196 ft. in di­am­eter. It is 60 ft. high. The columns en­cir­cling the cylin­dri­cal por­tion are stunt­ed and much broad­er at the base than the top; the cap­itals are Doric. Many of the columns, 60 in num­ber, have been much dam­aged. When the sepul­chral cham­ber was opened in 1873 by Bauchetet, a French en­gi­neer of­fi­cer, clear ev­idence was found that at some re­mote pe­ri­od the tomb had been ri­fled and an at­tempt made to de­stroy it by fire.

The Jedars (Arab. “walls” or “build­ings”) are in the de­part­ment of Oran. The name is giv­en to a num­ber of sepul­chral mon­uments placed on hill-​tops. A rect­an­gu­lar or square podi­um is in each case sur­mount­ed by a pyra­mid. The tombs date from the 5th to the 7th cen­tu­ry of the Chris­tian era, and lie in two dis­tinct groups be­tween Tiaret and Fren­da, a dis­tance of 35 m. Tiaret (pop. 5778), an an­cient town mod­ern­ized by the French, can be reached by rail­way from Mosta­ganem. Near Fren­da (2063), which has large­ly pre­served its old Berber char­ac­ter, are nu­mer­ous dol­mens and pre­his­toric rock sculp­tures.

Al­ge­ria con­tains many Ro­man re­mains be­sides those men­tioned and is al­so rich in mon­uments of Saracenic art. For a de­scrip­tion of the chief an­tiq­ui­ties see the sep­arate town ar­ti­cles, in­clud­ing, be­sides those al­ready cit­ed, Lambessa, Tebessa, Tipasa and Tim­gad.

Agri­cul­ture.–Ev­er since the time of the Ro­mans Al­ge­ria has been not­ed for the fer­til­ity of its soil. Over two-​thirds of the in­hab­itants are en­gaged in agri­cul­tur­al pur­suits. More than 7,500,000 acres are de­vot­ed to the cul­ti­va­tion of ce­re­als. The Tell is the grain-​grow­ing land. Un­der French rule its pro­duc­tive­ness has been large­ly in­creased by the sink­ing of arte­sian wells in dis­tricts which on­ly re­quired wa­ter to make them fer­tile. Of the crops raised, wheat, bar­ley and oats are the prin­ci­pal ce­re­als. A great va­ri­ety of veg­eta­bles and of fruits, es­pe­cial­ly the or­ange, is ex­port­ed. A con­sid­er­able amount of cot­ton was grown dur­ing the Amer­ican Civ­il War, but the in­dus­try af­ter­wards de­clined. In the ear­ly years of the 20th cen­tu­ry ef­forts to ex­tend the cul­ti­va­tion of the plant were re­newed. A small amount of cot­ton is al­so grown in the south­ern oases. Large quan­ti­ties of crin veg­etal (veg­etable horse-​hair) an ex­cel­lent fi­bre, are made from the leaves of the dwarf palm. The olive (both for its fruit and oil) and to­bac­co are cul­ti­vat­ed with great suc­cess. The soil of Al­ge­ria ev­ery­where favours the growth of the vine. The coun­try, in the words of an ex­pert sent to re­port on the sub­ject by the French gov­ern­ment, “can pro­duce an in­fi­nite va­ri­ety of wines suit­able to ev­ery con­sti­tu­tion and to ev­ery caprice of taste.” The cul­ture of the vine was ear­ly un­der­tak­en by the colonists, but it was not un­til vine­yards in France were at­tacked by phyl­lox­era that the ex­port of wine from Al­ge­ria be­came con­sid­er­able. Al­ge­ri­an vine­yards were al­so at­tacked (1883) de­spite pre­cau­tion­ary mea­sures, but in the mean­time the worth of their wines had been proved. In 1850 less than 2000 acres were de­vot­ed to the grape, but in 1878 this had in­creased to over 42,000 acres, which yield­ed 7,436,000 gal­lons of wine. De­spite bad sea­sons and rav­ages of in­sects, cul­ti­va­tion ex­tend­ed, and in 1895 the vine­yards cov­ered 300,000 acres, the pro­duce be­ing 88,000,000 gal­lons. The area of cul­ti­va­tion in 1905 ex­ceed­ed 400,000 acres, and in that year the amount of wine pro­duced was 157,000,000 gal­lons. By that time the lim­its of prof­itable pro­duc­tion had been reached in many parts of the coun­try. Prac­ti­cal­ly the on­ly for­eign mar­ket for Al­ge­ri­an wine is France, which in 1905 im­port­ed about 110,000,000 gal­lons.

Fish­ery is a flour­ish­ing but not a large in­dus­try. The fish caught are prin­ci­pal­ly sar­dines, boni­to, smelts and sprats. Fresh fish are ex­port­ed to France, dried and pre­served fish to Spain and Italy. Coral fish­eries ex­ist along the coast from Bona to Tu­nis.

Min­er­als.–Al­ge­ria is rich in min­er­als, found chiefly in the de­part­ment of Con­stan­tine, where iron, lead and zinc, cop­per, calamine, an­ti­mo­ny and mer­cury mines are worked. The most pro­duc­tive are those of iron and zinc. Lig­nite is found in the de­part­ment of Al­giers and petroleum in that of Oran. Im­mense phos­phate beds were dis­cov­ered near Tebessa in 1891. They yield­ed 313,500 tons in 1905. Phos­phate beds are al­so worked near Setif, Guel­ma and Ain Bei­da. There are more than 300 quar­ries which pro­duce, amongst oth­er stones, onyx and beau­ti­ful white and red mar­bles. Al­ge­ri­an onyx from Ain Tek­balet was used by the Ro­mans, and many an­cient quar­ries have been found near Kle­ber in the de­part­ment of Oran, some be­ing cer­tain­ly those from which the long-​lost Nu­mid­ian mar­bles were tak­en. Salt is col­lect­ed on the mar­gins of the shats.

Ship­ping and Com­merce.–The car­ry­ing trade be­tween Al­ge­ria and France is con­fined, by a law passed in 1889, to French bot­toms. The largest port is Al­giers, af­ter which fol­low Oran, Philippeville and Bona. There is a con­sid­er­able coast­ing trade. The av­er­age num­ber of ves­sels en­ter­ing and clear­ing Al­ge­ri­an ports each year has been, since 1900, about 4000, with a to­tal ton­nage of some 6,500,000. In the coast­ing trade some 12,000 small ves­sels are en­gaged.

Un­der French ad­min­is­tra­tion the com­merce of Al­ge­ria has great­ly de­vel­oped: The to­tal im­ports and ex­ports at the time of the French oc­cu­pa­tion (1830) did not ex­ceed L. 175,000. In 1850 the fig­ures had reached L. 5,000,000; in 1868, L. 12,000,000; in 1880, L. 17,000,000; and in 1890, L. 20,000,000. From this point progress was slow­er and the fig­ures var­ied con­sid­er­ably year by year. In 1905 the to­tal val­ue of the for­eign trade was L. 24,500,000. About five-​sixths of the trade is with or via France, in­to which coun­try sev­er­al Al­ge­ri­an goods have been ad­mit­ted du­ty-​free since 1851, and all since 1867. French goods, ex­cept sug­ar, have been ad­mit­ted in­to Al­ge­ria with­out pay­ment of du­ty since 1835. Af­ter the in­crease, in 1892, of the French min­imum tar­iff, which ap­plied to Al­ge­ria al­so, for­eign trade great­ly di­min­ished.

The chief ex­ports are sheep and ox­en, most of which are raised in Mo­roc­co and Tunisia, and hors­es; an­imal prod­ucts, such as wool and skins; wine, ce­re­als (rye, bar­ley, oats), veg­eta­bles, fruits (chiefly figs and grapes for the ta­ble) and seeds, es­par­to grass, oils and veg­etable ex­tracts (chiefly olive oil), iron ore, zinc, nat­ural phos­phates, tim­ber, cork, crin veg­etal and to­bac­co. Of these France takes ful­ly three-​quar­ters. The im­port of wool, ex­ceeds the ex­port. Sug­ar, cof­fee, ma­chin­ery, met­al work of all kinds, cloth­ing and pot­tery are large­ly im­port­ed. Of these by far the greater part comes from France. The British im­ports con­sist chiefly of coal, cot­ton fab­rics and ma­chin­ery.

Com­mu­ni­ca­tions.–Al­ge­ria pos­sess­es a rail­way sys­tem cov­er­ing over 2000 m. A de­cree of 1857 grant­ed to the Paris-​Lyons Com­pa­ny the right to con­struct a line link­ing Al­giers with Oran (266 m.) and Con­stan­tine (290 m.) and short­er lines join­ing the sea­ports to the trunk line, no­tably Philippeville to Con­stan­tine (54 m.). These lines were opened be­tween 1862 and 1871, but it was not un­til 1879 that a gen­er­al scheme for rail­way con­struc­tion was adopt­ed. A trunk line runs from the fron­tier of Mo­roc­co at Lal­la Magh­nia, 44 m. W. of Tlem­cen, across the Tell to the Tunisian fron­tier, whence it is con­tin­ued to the city of Tu­nis; while tra­verse rail­ways con­nect the sea­ports with the trunk line and with towns to the south, the Philippeville line be­ing con­tin­ued to Biskra. From Arzeu a line goes south across the plateaus and cross­ing the Ksur range at a height of 4211 ft. en­ters the Sa­hara. Pass­ing Ain Se­fra and Figig (372 m. from Arzeu) the line is con­tin­ued to­wards Tu­at. The nor­mal gauge of the rail­ways is 4 ft. 8 1/2 in.; a few “light lines” have a gauge of 3 ft. 3 in. Al­ge­ria is al­so tra­versed by a net­work of roads con­struct­ed by the French, of which the routes na­tionales alone are 2000 m. in length. There are com­plete postal and tele­graph­ic fa­cil­ities in all parts of the colony save the Sa­ha­ran Ter­ri­to­ries, and ca­ble com­mu­ni­ca­tion with France.

Cen­tral Gov­ern­ment.–By the Turks the coun­try was di­vid­ed in­to four provinces–Al­giers and Ti­teri in the cen­tre and south, Con­stan­tine in the east and Mas­cara or Oran in the west.3 The last three were gov­erned by beys de­pen­dent up­on the rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the Porte res­ident at Al­giers. The Turk­ish gov­er­nors were in the 17th cen­tu­ry re­placed by deys (see be­low, His­to­ry.) The French rule was at first (1830) pure­ly mil­itary. In 1834 the post of gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al was cre­at­ed. Un­der the di­rec­tion of the min­istry of war that of­fi­cial ex­er­cised near­ly all the ex­ec­utive pow­er. At the same time a civ­il ad­min­is­tra­tion and con­sul­ta­tive coun­cil were formed. The prin­ci­ple of uni­ty of au­thor­ity was set aside by the sec­ond re­pub­lic in 1848, when many of the pub­lic ser­vices were at­tached to the cor­re­spond­ing min­istries in Paris, and the de­part­ments or­ga­nized on the metropoli­tan mod­el by di­vi­sion in­to ar­rondisse­ments and com­munes and by plac­ing a pre­fect at their head. Un­der Napoleon III. the gov­er­nor- gen­er­al­ship was abol­ished, a min­is­ter of Al­ge­ria and the colonies cre­at­ed (24th of June 1858), and the whole ad­min­is­tra­tion con­duct­ed from Paris. At the same time the pow­ers of the pre­fects were aug­ment­ed and each de­part­ment giv­en a gen­er­al coun­cil. This ar­range­ment was not of long du­ra­tion. By de­cree of the 24th of Novem­ber 1860, the min­istry of Al­ge­ria and the colonies was abol­ished and the of­fice of gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al re-​es­tab­lished with in­creased pow­ers. This regime, strong­ly mil­itary in its type, end­ed with the fall of the sec­ond em­pire. Af­ter a brief tran­si­tion­al pe­ri­od, a de­cree of the 29th of March 1871 placed at the head of Al­ge­ria a civ­il gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al and gave the con­trol in Paris to the min­istry of the in­te­ri­or. In 1876, on the ini­tia­tive of Gen­er­al Chanzy, then gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, that of­fi­cial was ac­cord­ed the right to cor­re­spond di­rect with all the min­is­ters in Paris. This con­ces­sion led, how­ev­er, to the diminu­tion of the au­thor­ity of the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, whose pow­ers were, step by step, ab­sorbed by the var­ious min­istries in France. It had its log­ical end in the sys­tem adopt­ed in 1881 and known as the rat­tache­ment. Un­der this sys­tem the plan of 1848 was car­ried out more com­plete­ly, ev­ery de­part­ment of state be­ing placed un­der one or oth­er of the min­istries in Paris, whilst the gov­er­nor- gen­er­al be­came lit­tle more than an or­na­men­tal per­son­age. Af­ter last­ing fif­teen years the rat­tache­ment was, with the ap­proval of the leg­is­la­ture, ab­ro­gat­ed by de­cree dat­ed the 31st of De­cem­ber 1896. The op­pos­ing prin­ci­ple, that of con­cen­trat­ing pow­er in the hands of the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, was re-​af­firmed, but in prac­tice was mod­ified by the re­ten­tion of the di­rec­tion from Paris of a few of the pub­lic ser­vices. The de­cree of 1896, which was of a pro­vi­sion­al char­ac­ter, was re­placed by an­oth­er, dat­ed the 23rd of Au­gust 1898, defin­ing the pow­ers of the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al un­der the new scheme. By a law of the 19th of De­cem­ber 1900, Al­ge­ria was con­sti­tut­ed a le­gal per­son­al­ity, with pow­er to own goods, con­tract loans, &c., and a de­cree of 1901 placed the cus­toms de­part­ment, un­til then di­rect­ed from Paris, un­der the con­trol of the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, whose hands were al­so strength­ened in var­ious mi­nor mat­ters.

It will be seen that the form of gov­ern­ment is en­tire­ly de­pen­dent on the will of France. The French cham­bers alone pos­sess the leg­isla­tive pow­er, though in the ab­sence of ex­press leg­is­la­tion de­crees of the head of the state have the force of law. To the leg­is­la­ture in Paris Al­ge­ria elects three sen­ators and six deputies (one sen­ator and two deputies for each de­part­ment). The fran­chise is con­fined to “cit­izens,” in which cat­ego­ry the na­tive Jews are in­clud­ed by de­cree of the 24th of Oc­to­ber 1870. The Ma­hommedans, who num­ber near­ly eight-​ninths of the pop­ula­tion, are not, how­ev­er, “cit­izens” but “sub­jects,” and con­se­quent­ly have not the vote. They can, how­ev­er, ac­quire “cit­izen­ship” at their own re­quest, by plac­ing them­selves ab­so­lute­ly un­der the civ­il and po­lit­ical laws of France (de­cree of 1865, con­firmed in 1870). The num­ber of Ma­hommedans who avail them­selves of this rule is very small; nat­ural­iza­tions do not ex­ceed an av­er­age of thir­ty per­sons a year. For cer­tain spec­ified ob­jects, fi­nan­cial and mu­nic­ipal, Ma­hommedans are, how­ev­er, per­mit­ted to ex­er­cise the fran­chise.

The ac­tu­al form of gov­ern­ment may be sum­ma­rized thus:– At the head of the ad­min­is­tra­tion in Al­ge­ria is a gov­er­nor- gen­er­al, who ex­er­cis­es con­trol over all branch­es, civ­il and mil­itary, of the ad­min­is­tra­tion, ex­cept the ser­vices of jus­tice, pub­lic in­struc­tion and wor­ship (as far as con­cerns Eu­ro­peans) and the trea­sury. He cor­re­sponds di­rect­ly with thn oth­er Bar­bary states; draws up the bud­get, and con­tracts loans on be­half of the colony. The gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al is as­sist­ed by:–

(1) The Coun­cil of Gov­ern­ment, a pure­ly ad­vi­so­ry body, com­posed en­tire­ly of high of­fi­cials; (2) A Su­pe­ri­or Coun­cil, com­posed part­ly of elect­ed and part­ly of nom­inat­ed mem­bers, in­clud­ing rep­re­sen­ta­tives of the Ma­hommedans. Its du­ty is to de­lib­er­ate up­on all ad­min­is­tra­tive mat­ters, in­clud­ing the bud­get, and it pos­sess­es cer­tain pow­ers over the fi­nances; (3) The Fi­nan­cial Del­ega­tions (cre­at­ed by de­cree in 1898), an elec­tive body whose du­ty is to in­ves­ti­gate all mat­ters af­fect­ing tax­ation and to vote the bud­get. The del­ega­tions con­sist of rep­re­sen­ta­tives of (a) “colonists,” i.e. the ru­ral com­mu­ni­ty; (b) tax­pay­ers, be­ing cit­izens oth­er than “colonists,” i.e. the ur­ban com­mu­ni­ty; (c) the Ma­hommedan pop­ula­tion. The last sec­tion is part­ly elec­tive and part­ly nom­inat­ed. A pro­por­tion of the mem­bers of the del­ega­tions are elect­ed to the su­pe­ri­or coun­cil. Lo­cal Gov­ern­ment.–The de­part­ments, presid­ed over by pre­fects, are di­vid­ed in­to ter­ri­toires civils and ter­ri­toires du com­man­dant. In the re­gions un­der civ­il ad­min­is­tra­tion the lo­cal or­ga­ni­za­tion close­ly re­sem­bles that of France. The coun­try is di­vid­ed in­to ar­rondisse­ments and com­munes, with most of the ap­pa­ra­tus of self-​gov­ern­ment en­joyed by the cor­re­spond­ing units in France. The can­ton (in France a ju­di­cial area) has, how­ev­er, no ex­is­tence in Al­ge­ria. In the ter­ri­toires du com­man­dant, which are the dis­tricts far­thest from the coast, and in which the Eu­ro­pean pop­ula­tion is small, the pre­fect is re­placed by a high mil­itary of­fi­cer, who ex­er­cis­es all the func­tions of a pre­fect.

The pre­fect of each de­part­ment is as­sist­ed by a gen­er­al coun­cil, con­sist­ing of mem­bers elect­ed by the cit­izens and of nom­inat­ed rep­re­sen­ta­tives of the Ma­hommedan pop­ula­tion. The pow­ers of the coun­cil cor­re­spond to those of the coun­cils in France. Com­munes are of three kinds: (1) those with full pow­ers, (2) mixed, (3) na­tive. In those of the first kind, mod­elled on the French com­munes, the Ma­hommedans pos­sess the mu­nic­ipal fran­chise. The “mixed” com­munes are un­der an ad­min­is­tra­tor nom­inat­ed by the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al and as­sist­ed by a mu­nic­ipal coun­cil com­posed of Eu­ro­peans and na­tives. These com­munes are large ar­eas, each con­tain­ing sev­er­al towns or vil­lages. In the ter­ri­toires du com­man­dant the mixed com­mune is presid­ed over by a mil­itary of­fi­cer who ful­fils the du­ties of may­or. Na­tive com­munes are or­ga­nized on the same plan as those last men­tioned. It will be seen that com­munes do not cor­re­spond with any nat­ural unit. The unit among the Ma­hommedans is the douar, a trib­al di­vi­sion ad­min­is­tered by a ca­di. The com­munes with full pow­ers have each for cen­tre a town with a con­sid­er­able Eu­ro­pean pop­ula­tion.

By de­cree of the 14th of Au­gust 1905, the fron­tier be­tween Sa­ha­ran ter­ri­to­ry de­pen­dent on Al­ge­ria and that at­tached to French West Africa was laid down. The Al­ge­ri­an Sa­hara was di­vid­ed in­to four ter­ri­to­ries, of­fi­cial­ly named Tug­gurt, Gharda­ia, Ain Se­fra and the Sa­ha­ran Oases (Tu­at, Gu­rara and Tidikelt). The gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al rep­re­sents the ter­ri­to­ries in civ­il af­fairs; the bud­get is dis­tinct from that of Al­ge­ria and an an­nu­al sub­ven­tion is pro­vid­ed by France.

Fi­nance.–Rev­enue is de­rived chiefly from di­rect tax­ation, cus­toms and mo­nop­olies. The heav­iest item of ex­pen­di­ture charge­able on the Al­ge­ri­an bud­get is on pub­lic works, posts and tele­graphs and agri­cul­ture. Al­ge­ria has had a bud­get dis­tinct from that of France since 1901. This bud­get in­cludes all the ex­pens­es of Al­ge­ria save the cost of the army (es­ti­mat­ed at L. 2,000,000 year­ly) and the guar­an­tee of in­ter­est on the rail­ways open be­fore 1901. Both these items are borne by France. The Al­ge­ri­an bud­get for 1906 showed rev­enue and ex­pen­di­ture bal­anc­ing at L. 3,820,000. The coun­try has a debt (1905), in­clud­ing cap­ital, an­nu­ities and in­ter­est, of some

De­fence.–The mil­itary force con­sti­tutes the XIX. army corps of the French army. There are in ad­di­tion a ter­ri­to­ri­al army re­serve and a spe­cial body of troops, large­ly Arab, for the de­fence of the Sa­ha­ran ter­ri­to­ry. The troops quar­tered in Al­ge­ria ex­ceed 50,000. The de­fence of the coast is pro­vid­ed by the French navy.

Land Tenure.–The col­oniza­tion of Al­ge­ria by the French has been great­ly ham­pered by the sys­tem of land tenure which they found in force. Ex­cept among the Kabyles, pri­vate prop­er­ty in land was un­known. Amongst the Arabs, lands were ei­ther held in com­mon by a whole tribe, un­der a tenure known as the arch or sabegha, or some­times, es­pe­cial­ly in the, towns, un­der a mod­ified form of free­hold (melk) by the fam­ily. At the same time the bound­aries of prop­er­ty were ill de­fined and dif­fi­cult to de­ter­mine. This sys­tem made it im­pos­si­ble for French im­mi­grants to ob­tain land by law­ful trans­fer. The on­ly lands at the out­set avail­able for set­tle­ment were, in fact, the con­fis­cat­ed do­mains of the dey. The ob­vi­ous so­lu­tion of the dif­fi­cul­ty was to en­cour­age the free move­ment of re­al es­tate by sub­sti­tut­ing pri­vate own­er­ship for the tra­di­tion­al sys­tem. Be­fore do­ing this, how­ev­er, it was nec­es­sary to de­fine the lim­its of trib­al prop­er­ties al­ready ex­ist­ing–a work of great dif­fi­cul­ty–with a view to their ul­ti­mate di­vi­sion, and at the same time to guard against any pre­ma­ture traf­fic in the rights of Arabs in the lands about to be di­vid­ed. A sen­atus-​con­sulte of 1863 laid the ba­sis for the change in the land sys­tem by pro­vid­ing (1) for the de­lim­ita­tion of the ter­ri­to­ry of each tribe, (2) for the repar­ti­tion of the ter­ri­to­ry thus de­lim­it­ed among new­ly formed trib­al di­vi­sions (douars or com­munes), and (3) for the recog­ni­tion of pri­vate own­er­ship by the is­sue of ti­tle deeds for such in­di­vid­ual or fam­ily prop­er­ty (melk) as al­ready ex­ist­ed. The pur­pose of this ex­cel­lent law, which would have laid firm­ly the ba­sis for grad­ual change, was de­feat­ed by the im­pa­tience of the French colonists. At the in­stance of their rep­re­sen­ta­tives in the cham­bers it was aban­doned in 1870, and was not re­vived till sev­en­teen years lat­er. A law was passed in 1873, and amend­ed in 1887, le­gal­iz­ing the im­me­di­ate con­ver­sion of trib­al and fam­ily prop­er­ty in­to pri­vate free­hold. The re­sult has been dis­ap­point­ing. For the most part, the Arab tribes have been re­luc­tant to avail them­selves of their new pow­ers, and where they have done so the hasty re­ver­sal of the tra­di­tions of cen­turies has proved de­mor­al­iz­ing to the na­tives, with­out any suf­fi­cient equiv­alent in the way of healthy French col­oniza­tion. The main prof­it has been reaped by Jew­ish usurers.

The state do­mains were ex­haust­ed by 1870, but were again re­plen­ished by the large con­fis­ca­tions which fol­lowed the Arab re­volt of 1871. Gov­ern­ment lands were orig­inal­ly giv­en free to ap­pli­cants, but with a pro­vi­sion­al and in­se­cure ti­tle, which made it im­pos­si­ble for poor colonists to bor­row mon­ey on their land. This was mod­ified by a law of 1851. But ul­ti­mate­ly, the re­sults not be­ing sat­is­fac­to­ry, the prece­dent of Aus­tralia was fol­lowed, and by a law of 1860 do­main lands were sold pub­licly at a fixed price. This had the ef­fect of at­tract­ing more and a bet­ter class of im­mi­grants, but was none the less re­versed in 1881.

In Septem­ber 1904, a new scheme, in­tend­ed to at­tract more Eu­ro­pean set­tlers, was adopt­ed. The lands of the state–oth­er than woods and forests–but es­pe­cial­ly the bar­ren lands and brush­woods sit­uat­ed in the plains, were of­fered for col­oniza­tion, to be dis­posed of (1) by sale at a fixed price, (2) by auc­tion, and (3), in cer­tain cas­es, by agree­ment. Pur­chasers were to be French­men, or Eu­ro­peans nat­ural­ized as French cit­izens, who had nev­er held “col­oniza­tion lands”; and they were obliged, un­der pain of for­fei­ture, ei­ther to take up res­idence them­selves on their prop­er­ty with­in six months and to live on it and ex­ploit it for a pe­ri­od of ten years, or else to place on the land an­oth­er fam­ily ful­fill­ing the same con­di­tions. If the pur­chas­er farmed the land him­self and made sat­is­fac­to­ry progress, the pe­ri­od of oblig­atory res­idence was re­duced to five years. When the in­ter­ests of col­oniza­tion re­quired it, free gifts of land might be made; in which case the grantee must him­self ex­ploit his con­ces­sion. In no case might land ac­quired un­der this scheme be let to na­tives un­til af­ter the ex­pi­ra­tion of ten years.

For the pur­pose of cre­at­ing vil­lages, land was put at the dis­po­si­tion of so­ci­eties or in­di­vid­uals, who un­der­took to peo­ple them with im­mi­grants ful­fill­ing the same con­di­tions as in­de­pen­dent set­tlers. Two-​thirds of the vil­lagers were to be French im­mi­grants, the oth­er third French­men or nat­ural­ized French­men al­ready set­tled in Al­ge­ria. To favour the es­tab­lish­ment of spe­cial in­dus­tries, the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al was giv­en pow­er to au­tho­rize the in­tro­duc­tion of for­eign in­stead of French im­mi­grants. The so­ci­eties or in­di­vid­uals un­der­tak­ing vil­lage set­tle­ments must do so from phil­an­thropic mo­tives, inas­much as with­in two years of the found­ing of a vil­lage, the land, un­der pain of for­fei­ture to the state, must be trans­ferred gra­tu­itous­ly to the vil­lagers. As will be seen, set­tle­ment on the land by Eu­ro­peans is ham­pered by of­fi­cial re­stric­tions, es­pe­cial­ly by the strin­gent reg­ula­tions as to res­idence.

Jus­tice.–Two ju­di­cial sys­tems ex­ist in Al­ge­ria–na­tive and French. Na­tive courts de­cide suits be­tween Ma­hommedans. From the de­ci­sion of the cadis ap­peal lies to the French courts. The French sys­tem pro­vides, for civ­il cas­es, a court of first in­stance in each of the six­teen ar­rondisse­ments in­to which the coun­try is di­vid­ed. A court of ap­peal sits at Al­giers. There are al­so tri­bunals of com­merce and jus­tices of the peace with ex­ten­sive ju­ris­dic­tion. The crim­inal courts are or­ga­nized as in France. Tri­al by ju­ry has been in­tro­duced; but as na­tives are not al­lowed to act as ju­ry­men this has of­ten led to se­ri­ous mis­car­riages of jus­tice and to ex­ces­sive sever­ities.

Whilst mod­ifi­ca­tions of the law re­quire spe­cial leg­is­la­tion or de­cree, it has been legal­ly de­cid­ed that all laws in force in France be­fore the con­quest of the coun­try (i.e. those an­te­ri­or to the 22nd of Ju­ly 1834) are in force in Al­ge­ria. In prac­tice the courts al­low them­selves wide lat­itude in ap­ply­ing this prin­ci­ple.

Ed­uca­tion.–The sys­tem of ed­uca­tion is com­pli­cat­ed by the co-​ex­is­tence of Ma­hommedan and Chris­tian com­mu­ni­ties. Be­fore the ar­rival of the French two kinds of in­struc­tion were giv­en, read­ing and writ­ing be­ing taught in the or­di­nary schools and high­er ed­uca­tion–large­ly the­olog­ical–in medres­sas (col­leges), usu­al­ly at­tached to the chief mosques. At­tempts by the French to im­prove the ed­uca­tion of the na­tives were at first marked by hes­ita­tion and long pe­ri­ods in which lit­tle or noth­ing was done. The pro­vi­sion for the in­struc­tion of the Eu­ro­pean and Jew­ish pop­ula­tion was al­so in­ad­equate. In 1883 a law was passed for the re­or­ga­ni­za­tion of the sys­tems in force, and pri­ma­ry in­struc­tion was made com­pul­so­ry for Eu­ro­peans and Jews, whilst in the case of Ma­hommedans dis­cre­tion in the es­tab­lish­ment of schools was vest­ed in the gov­er­nor- gen­er­al.

At­tempts are made to as­sim­ilate the Ma­hommedan pop­ula­tion by means of Fran­co-​Arab pri­ma­ry and sec­ondary schools, which sup­ple­ment the pure­ly French and pure­ly Arab es­tab­lish­ments of the same char­ac­ter. These at­tempts meet with lit­tle suc­cess, ow­ing in part to racial prej­udice and in part to the in­dif­fer­ence of the Arabs to ed­uca­tion. Few Moslems at­tend the sec­ondary schools. Pure­ly Ma­hommedan high­er schools ex­ist at Al­giers, Tlem­cen and Con­stan­tine. From these es­tab­lish­ments the ranks of na­tive of­fi­cials are re­cruit­ed. There is one sec­ondary school for Moslem girls. The ed­uca­tion pro­vid­ed for Eu­ro­peans re­sem­bles in most re­spects that giv­en in France. (The lycees at Al­giers, Oran and Con­stan­tine are open to Ma­hommedans, but few take ad­van­tage of them.) Be­sides the gov­ern­ment schools there are es­tab­lish­ments con­duct­ed by cler­ics and lay­men. The best girls’ schools are gen­er­al­ly those kept by nuns. At Al­giers there is an es­tab­lish­ment with fac­ul­ties of law, medicine and phar­ma­cy, sci­ence and let­ters. At Oran is a col­lege for Eu­ro­pean girls. The schol­ars at­tend­ing pri­ma­ry schools num­ber about 150,000 (over 100,000 be­ing Eu­ro­peans and some 15,000 Jew­ish) and those at sec­ondary schools about 6000. (F. R. C.)

HIS­TO­RY

Africa Mi­nor.

From a ge­ograph­ical point of view Al­ge­ria, to­geth­er with Mo­roc­co and Tunisia, from which it is sep­arat­ed on­ly by ar­ti­fi­cial and pure­ly po­lit­ical fron­tiers, forms a dis­tinct coun­try. which it is con­ve­nient to des­ig­nate by the name of Africa Mi­nor. Both his­tor­ical­ly and ge­ograph­ical­ly, Africa Mi­nor be­longs much more to the Mediter­ranean world than to the African. All the for­eign in­vaders who suc­ces­sive­ly es­tab­lished their do­min­ion over this coun­try ei­ther crossed the Mediter­ranean or fol­lowed its shores. The Phoeni­cians, the Ro­mans, the Van­dals, the Byzan­tines, the Arabs, the Turks and the French, all came from the east or from the north. The his­to­ry of Africa Mi­nor is the his­to­ry of all those for­eign­ers who have suc­ces­sive­ly en­deav­oured to ex­ploit this land, the his­to­ry of their divers civ­iliza­tions strug­gling against an ev­er-​re­nascent bar­barism.

The po­lit­ical di­vi­sions of Africa Mi­nor have changed many times, for, as the coun­try has no nat­ural cen­tre, many towns have as­pired to play the role of cap­ital. The ri­val­ry of these towns is in­ti­mate­ly con­nect­ed with the strug­gles and in­sur­rec­tions which have stained the land with blood. The ex­ist­ing di­vi­sion–viz. Mo­roc­co, Al­ge­ria and Tunisia–dates back to the time of the Turk­ish do­min­ion. It is since that time on­ly that the ex­pres­sion Al­ge­ria has been in use.

Strug­gle with Spain.

At the be­gin­ning of the 16th cen­tu­ry the na­tive dy­nas­ties which di­vid­ed Africa Mi­nor be­tween them–the Marinides at Fez, the Abd-​el-​Wahid at Tlem­cen, and the Haf­sides at Tu­nis–were with­out strength and with­out au­thor­ity. Two na­tions, then at the height of their pow­er, Spain and Turkey, dis­put­ed the em­pire of the Mediter­ranean. The Spaniards took Mers-​el-​Ke­bir (1505), Oran (1509), and Bougie and Tripoli (1510). Two Turk­ish cor­sairs, Arouj and his broth­er, Khair-​ed-​Din (oth­er­wise known as Bar­barossa), at first es­tab­lished in the is­land of Jer­ba and af­ter­wards at Ji­jel­li, dis­put­ed with the Spaniards the do­min­ion of the coun­try. Arouj seized Al­giers (1516); Khair-​ed-​Din, suc­ceed­ing him in 1518, did homage for his con­quest to the sul­tan at Con­stantino­ple, who named him beyler­bey and sent him sol­diers (1519). Then be­gan the strug­gle of the Turks with Spain. In 1541 the em­per­or Charles V. un­der­took a great ex­pe­di­tion against Al­giers. He suc­ceed­ed in land­ing, and pro­ceed­ed to at­tack the town. But dur­ing the night of the 26th of Oc­to­ber a vi­olent storm de­stroyed a great part of his fleet. His pro­vi­sions and his am­mu­ni­tion were lost, his army was com­pelled to re­treat with con­sid­er­able loss, and the em­per­or had to re-​em­bark with the rem­nant of his troops. This check com­plete­ly dis­cour­aged the Spaniards and as­sured suc­cess to the Turks. The Span­ish gar­risons es­tab­lished in the coast towns, bad­ly paid and left with­out re­in­force­ments, had dif­fi­cul­ty in de­fend­ing them­selves. In the end, the on­ly towns the Spaniards re­tained on the Al­ge­ri­an coast were Oran and Mers-​el-​Ke­bir. These two towns, tak­en by the Turks in 1708 and re­tak­en by the Spaniards in 1732, were fi­nal­ly aban­doned in 1791.

Bar­bary cor­sairs.

Un­der the Turk­ish do­min­ion Al­ge­ria had orig­inal­ly at its head a beyler­bey res­ident at Al­giers. He con­trolled three beys:–the bey of Ti­teri in the south, the bey of the east at Con­stan­tine, and the bey of the west who resid­ed at Mas­cara and af­ter­wards at Oran. These three beys ex­ist­ed till 1830. The beyler­beys were re­placed in 1587 by pashas sent tri­en­ni­al­ly by the Porte. But the au­thor­ity of these pashas, strangers to the coun­try, was al­ways pre­car­ious. They found them­selves, in fact, in con­flict with two forces, which in prin­ci­ple were in their ser­vice, but which in re­al­ity held the pow­er–the taiffe des reis, oth­er­wise called the cor­po­ra­tion of the cor­sairs (see BAR­BARY PI­RATES), and the janis­saries, a kind of mil­itary democ­ra­cy in which each mem­ber was pro­mot­ed ac­cord­ing to se­nior­ity. In 1669 the cor­sairs drove out the pasha, and put in­to his place a dey elect­ed by them­selves. Af­ter some fruit­less at­tempts Turkey ceased to send pashas to Al­giers–where they were not al­lowed even to land–and thus rec­og­nized the de fac­to in­de­pen­dence of this sin­gu­lar re­pub­lic. The au­thor­ity of the deys, more­over, was scarce­ly more sol­id than that of the pashas. They trem­bled be­fore the janis­saries, who from the 18th cen­tu­ry elect­ed and de­posed them at their plea­sure.

The re­la­tions which the Eu­ro­pean pow­ers were able to main­tain with north­ern Africa were at that time dif­fi­cult and un­cer­tain. Ships trad­ing in the Mediter­ranean were seized by the cor­sairs, who pil­laged the coasts of Eu­rope, car­ried off their cap­tives to Al­giers, and de­stroyed the fish­ing and com­mer­cial set­tle­ments found­ed by the Mar­seil­lais on the shores of Africa. The Chris­tian gov­ern­ments ei­ther ut­tered use­less and im­po­tent com­plaints at Con­stantino­ple, or en­deav­oured to ne­go­ti­ate di­rect­ly with Al­giers, as in the case of the ne­go­ti­ations of San­son Napol­lon dur­ing the min­istry of Riche­lieu. More rarely their pa­tience be­came ex­haust­ed, and ships were sent to bom­bard this nest of pi­rates. Two naval demon­stra­tions were made by France dur­ing the reign of Louis XIV., one by Abra­ham Duquesne in 1682, and the oth­er by Mar­shal Jean d’Es­trees in 1688, but these re­pres­sive mea­sures were too in­ter­mit­tent to pro­duce a durable ef­fect.

In 1815 at the congress of Vi­en­na, and in 1818 at the congress of Aix-​la-​Chapelle, the pow­ers en­deav­oured to con­cert mea­sures to put an end to the Bar­bary pira­cy. Nev­er­the­less the naval demon­stra­tions made by Lord Ex­mouth in 1816, and by a com­bined En­glish and French squadron in 1819, re­mained equal­ly fruit­less. But the re­sult which the Eu­ro­pean pow­ers in con­cert had been un­able to achieve, was brought about by the ac­ci­den­tal cir­cum­stances which led France to un­der­take alone an ex­pe­di­tion against Al­giers.

French in­ter­ven­tion.

Some dif­fi­cul­ties had arisen be­tween France and the dey of Al­giers with ref­er­ence to the debts con­tract­ed to Bacri and Bus­nach, two Al­ger­ine Jews who had sup­plied corn to the French gov­ern­ment un­der the Di­rec­to­ry. This ques­tion of in­ter­est would not have been suf­fi­cient in it­self to bring about a rup­ture, but the sit­ua­tion be­came acute when the dey, Hus­sein, struck the French con­sul, De­val, on the face with his fly-​flap (April 30, 1827). There­upon the port of Al­giers was block­ad­ed. The min­is­ter of war, the duc de Cler­mont-​Ton­nerre, would have gone fur­ther, but the pres­ident of the coun­cil, the comte de Vil­lele, op­posed the send­ing of an ex­pe­di­tion, while in the Mar­tignac min­istry M. de la Fer­ronays, min­is­ter of for­eign af­fairs, was bent up­on ne­go­ti­at­ing. It need­ed a sec­ond in­sult–the fir­ing on “La Provence,” a ves­sel car­ry­ing a flag of truce, in the har­bour of Al­giers (Au­gust 3, 1829)–to spur the French gov­ern­ment to fur­ther ac­tion than an in­ef­fec­tu­al block­ade. An ex­pe­di­tion against Al­giers was then de­cid­ed up­on, and Mar­shal de Bour­mont, the min­is­ter of war, him­self took the com­mand. On the 14th of June 1830 the French troops land­ed at Si­di-​Fer­ruch. On the 19th of June they beat the en­emy at Staoueli. On the 4th of Ju­ly the fort de l’Em­pereur was blown up. On the 5th of Ju­ly Al­giers ca­pit­ulat­ed. Some days lat­er the dey was de­port­ed, as well as the greater part of the janis­saries. Those who were not mar­ried were con­veyed im­me­di­ate­ly to Asia Mi­nor; the rest had per­mis­sion to re­main, but in fact they left the coun­try soon af­ter­wards.

Mean­while the rev­olu­tion of Ju­ly 1830 had bro­ken out in France. The new gov­ern­ment found it­self very much em­bar­rassed by the sit­ua­tion be­queathed by the Restora­tion. The more se­ri­ous sec­tion in par­lia­ment were frankly op­posed to the idea of con­quer­ing or of col­oniz­ing Al­ge­ria; on the oth­er hand, pop­ular sen­ti­ment was hos­tile to evac­ua­tion. The French gov­ern­ment–fear­ing to dis­please the oth­er pow­ers by fol­low­ing up its con­quest, and ham­pered in par­tic­ular by its en­gage­ments to­wards Eng­land, yet con­scious that the on­ly means of putting an end to the pira­cy was to re­main–de­cid­ed pro­vi­sion­al­ly in favour of that in­ter­me­di­ate sys­tem, called re­strict­ed oc­cu­pa­tion, which con­sist­ed in oc­cu­py­ing mere­ly the prin­ci­pal sea­ports and await­ing events. The Al­ge­ri­ans ex­tri­cat­ed the gov­ern­ment from its dif­fi­cul­ty by at­tack­ing the French troops, who were obliged to de­fend them­selves. The na­tives gained some suc­cess­es, and it be­came nec­es­sary to avenge the hon­our of the flag. In this grad­ual man­ner were the French led to con­quer Al­ge­ria.

Gen­er­al Bertrand Clausel, who suc­ceed­ed Mar­shal de Bour­mont, was one of the few men who at that pe­ri­od dreamed of con­quer­ing and col­oniz­ing Al­ge­ria. His en­thu­si­as­tic con­fi­dence knew no ob­sta­cles. If the dey had left, the three beys re­mained. With the fee­ble re­sources at his dis­pos­al Clausel un­der­took an ex­pe­di­tion against Bu-​Meyrag, the bey of Ti­teri, took from him Bl­ida and Medea, dis­missed him, re­placed him by a suc­ces­sor de­vot­ed to France, and re­turned to Al­giers af­ter hav­ing left a gar­ri­son in Medea. Then, not hav­ing the means of di­rect­ly ex­tend­ing the rule of France to the east or west, Clausel de­vised a sys­tem of pro­tec­torates. He ne­go­ti­at­ed di­rect­ly with the bey of Tu­nis with a view to in­stalling as beys at Oran and Con­stan­tine Tunisian princes who rec­og­nized the au­thor­ity of France. But the events which were tak­ing place in Eu­rope made it im­per­ative to send home a part of the army of Africa, and Medea had to be evac­uat­ed. At the same time the ne­go­ti­ations set on foot with the bey of Tu­nis were cen­sured by the gov­ern­ment, and Gen­er­al Clausel was re­called (Febru­ary 1831).

The pe­ri­od of un­cer­tain­ty was pro­longed un­der his suc­ces­sors, Gen­er­al Pierre Berthezene (Febru­ary to De­cem­ber 1831); A. J. M. R. Savary, duc de Rovi­go (De­cem­ber 1831 to March 1833), Gen­er­al Avizard (March to April 1833), and Gen­er­al Voirol (April 1833 to Septem­ber 1834). The French, not yet cer­tain whether or not they would re­tain Al­ge­ria, re­mained on the de­fen­sive. At the time they oc­cu­pied on­ly the three towns of Al­giers, Bona and Oran, with their sub­urbs, where their sit­ua­tion was more­over sin­gu­lar­ly pre­car­ious. The Arabs would pil­lage the sub­urbs and run away. Some­times they cut off sup­plies by ceas­ing to bring pro­vi­sions to the mar­ket, but the French were not to be turned aside by such tac­tics.

At Al­giers the en­er­gies of the French were de­vot­ed to pro­tect­ing them­selves against the in­cur­sions of the Ha­ju­tas. This was suf­fi­cient to ab­sorb the at­ten­tion of the gen­er­al-​in-​chief, who left the guardian­ship of the east and west to the ini­tia­tive of the gen­er­als es­tab­lished at Bona and Oran. At Bona, where Gen­er­al Monk d’Uzer was in com­mand till 1836, things went fair­ly well. At once firm and con­cil­ia­to­ry, he had been able to at­tach to the French cause the na­tives whom the cru­el­ty of Ahmed, bey of Con­stan­tine, had alien­at­ed. The oc­cu­pa­tion of Bougie by Gen­er­al Camille Alphonse Trezel in Oc­to­ber 1833 gave the French a foot­ing at an­oth­er point of this east­ern province. But at Oran, where Gen­er­al Desmichels had suc­ceed­ed Gen­er­al P. F. X. Boy­er in the spring of 1833, their sit­ua­tion was much less favourable. There the French had found a re­doubtable ad­ver­sary in the young Abd-​el-​Kad­er, who had been pro­claimed amir at Mas­cara in 1832.

Abd-​el-​Kad­er.

A man of rare in­tel­li­gence, a fear­less horse­man and an elo­quent or­ator, Abd-​el-​Kad­er had ac­quired a great rep­uta­tion by his piety. He re­unit­ed un­der his sway the tribes that had hith­er­to been di­vid­ed, and in­fused a unique spir­it in­to their re­sis­tance. For fif­teen years he held the French in check, treat­ing on terms of equal­ity with their gov­ern­ment. More­over, the treaty which Gen­er­al Desmichels had the weak­ness to sign with him on the 24th of Febru­ary 1834 great­ly im­proved his po­si­tion. In pur­suance of this treaty, French of­fi­cers were to rep­re­sent their coun­try at the court of the amir; while the amir on his part was rep­re­sent­ed in the three French coast towns, Oran, Arzeu and Mosta­ganem, by vak­ils who im­me­di­ate­ly be­gan to act as mas­ters of the na­tives. Such was the sit­ua­tion at the pe­ri­od when, the French hav­ing at last re­solved to keep Al­ge­ria, the or­di­nance of the 22nd of Ju­ly 1834 laid down the bases of the po­lit­ical and ad­min­is­tra­tive or­ga­ni­za­tion of the “French pos­ses­sions in the north of Africa,” at the head of which was placed a gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al. But this date (Ju­ly 22, 1834), very im­por­tant from a ju­di­cial point of view, is much less so from a his­tor­ical point of view. The po­si­tion of the first gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, Jean Bap­tiste Drou­et d’Er­lon (1765- 1844), re­mained ful­ly as pre­car­ious as that of his pre­de­ces­sor. Dur­ing this time the pow­er of Abd-​el-​Kad­er in­creased. Mas­ter of the province of Oran, he crossed the She­lif at the ap­peal of the na­tives, the peo­ple flock­ing to wit­ness his progress as that of an em­per­or. He en­tered Mil­iana and Medea, where he in­stalled beys of his own choice. All the west­ern part of Al­ge­ria be­longed to him. Gen­er­al Trezel, who had suc­ceed­ed Gen­er­al Desmichels at Oran, re­solved to march against the amir, but was de­feat­ed on the banks of the Mac­ta (June 1835). This de­feat shook pub­lic opin­ion. Drou­et d’Er­lon was re­called and re­placed by Mar­shal Clausel.

In short, five years af­ter the ca­pit­ula­tion of Al­giers, the French do­min­ion ex­tend­ed as yet over on­ly six coast towns. Clausel, who re­turned with the same colo­nial am­bi­tions as in 1830, re­solved to con­quer the in­te­ri­or of the coun­try. He marched against the amir, de­feat­ed him and en­tered Mas­cara. Then he pro­ceed­ed to de­liv­er the in­hab­itants of Tlem­cen, who had been at­tacked by Abd-​el-​Kad­er, and there he left a gar­ri­son. Turn­ing to­wards the east, Clausel or­ga­nized at Bona the first ex­pe­di­tion against Con­stan­tine. This failed, and the on­ly re­sult of it was the oc­cu­pa­tion of Guel­ma. Clausel was re­called and re­placed by Gen­er­al C. M. D. Dam­re­mont (Febru­ary 1837). The task of main­tain­ing the po­si­tion of France was then di­vid­ed be­tween Thomas Robert Bugeaud (1784-1849), act­ing in­de­pen­dent­ly in the west, and Dam­re­mont, who di­rect­ed all his ef­forts to­wards the east. By the sig­na­ture of the cel­ebrat­ed treaty of the Tafna (June 1, 1837), Bugeaud made peace with Abd-​el-​Kad­er. In re­turn for a vague recog­ni­tion of the sovereign­ty of France in Africa, this treaty gave up to the amir the whole of west­ern Al­ge­ria. France re­served to her­self on­ly Oran and its en­vi­rons, Maza­gran, Al­giers and the Meti­ja; she gave up Tlem­cen and the Ti­teri bey­lik. This was a tri­umph for Abd-​el-​Kad­er, who rerard­ed the peace as but a truce which would al­low him time to gain strength to re­sume the war un­der more favourable con­di­tions.

Dam­re­mont, on his part, di­rect­ed a sec­ond ex­pe­di­tion on Con­stan­tine. The town was tak­en, but Dam­re­mont was killed (Oc­to­ber 1837). Mar­shal Syl­vain Charles Valee (1773-1846), who re­placed him, found­ed Philippeville to serve as a sea­port for the re­gion of Con­stan­tine, oc­cu­pied Ji­jel­li, and at the head of the ex­pe­di­tionary col­umn re­turned from Con­stan­tine to Al­giers by the in­te­ri­or, pass­ing through Setif and les Portes de fer. Abd-​el-​Kad­er main­tained that the French had thus vi­olat­ed the treaty of the Tafna, and be­gan the war again. For two years his pow­er had been in­creas­ing. A whole hi­er­ar­chy of khal­ifas, aghas and caids obeyed him. He had a reg­ular army of 8000 in­fantry and 2000 cav­al­ry, with­out count­ing 50,000 goums (bod­ies of Arab horse­men) brought by the khal­ifas. He was well fur­nished with war ma­te­ri­al, pos­sess­ing mag­azines and ar­se­nals in the heart of the Tell. He had at­tacked and sub­ju­gat­ed all who were not will­ing to rec­og­nize his au­thor­ity. Un­der his in­flu­ence old ri­val­ries were ef­faced; at his voice all the tribes joined in the holy war. On the 18th of Novem­ber 1839 he sent his dec­la­ra­tion of war to Mar­shal Valee, but the im­pa­tient Ha­ju­tas had al­ready dev­as­tat­ed the Meti­ja. Mar­shal Valee marched against Abd-​el-​Kad­er, and at first gained some suc­cess­es: the French oc­cu­pied Cherchel, Medea and Mil­iana. But at the end of 1840 valee was re­called and re­placed by Bugeaud, who adopt­ed to­tal­ly dif­fer­ent tac­tics. The sys­tem of Mar­shal Valee had been the de­fen­sive: he mul­ti­plied the for­ti­fied posts in or­der to draw the en­emy to a spot cho­sen be­fore­hand. Bugeaud res­olute­ly adopt­ed the of­fen­sive, re­duced the weight car­ried by the sol­diers in or­der to in­crease the mo­bil­ity of his troops, and car­ried the war in­to the province of Oran, from which Abd-​el-​Kad­er drew his prin­ci­pal re­sources. One af­ter the oth­er, all the mag­azines of the amir–those at Takdempt, Boghar, Taza, Sai­da and Seb­du–were tak­en and de­stroyed. In the spring of 1843 the duc d’Au­male had an op­por­tu­ni­ty of sur­pris­ing the smala (camp) of Abd-​el-​Kad­er near Taguin. This was a se­ri­ous blow for the amir, whose de­ter­mi­na­tion to con­tin­ue the con­test was, how­ev­er, as strong as ev­er. He took refuge in Mo­roc­co, and in­duced that pow­er to de­clare war on the French on the pre­text that they would not give up the fron­tier post of Lal­la-​Magh­nia. Mo­roc­co was soon van­quished. While Fran­cois, prince de Joinville, was bom­bard­ing Tang­ier and Mo­gador, Bugeaud gained the vic­to­ry of the Is­ly (Au­gust 1844). Mo­roc­co signed a treaty of peace at Tang­ier on the 10th of Septem­ber 1844.

The strug­gle, how­ev­er, was not end­ed. Is­lam made a supreme ef­fort in Al­ge­ria. The Dahra and the Warse­nis rose at the voice of a fa­nat­ic called Bu-​Maza (“the goat man”), a Khuan of the or­der of the Mouley-​Taieb. Else­where oth­er “mas­ters of the hour,” false Bu-​Mazas, rose. Abd-​el-​Kad­er reap­peared in Al­ge­ria, which he over­ran with a ra­pid­ity which baf­fled all pur­suit. He beat the French at Si­di Brahim, raid­ed the tribes of the Tell Oranais which had aban­doned him, pen­etrat­ed as far as the bor­ders of the Meti­ja, and reached the Ju­rju­ra, where he en­deav­oured to rouse the Kabyles. But his elo­quence of­fend­ed the nar­row and cramped par­tic­ular­ism of those lit­tle demo­crat­ic cities, deaf to the sen­ti­ment of the com­mon in­ter­est. From that time he played a los­ing game. He re­turned to­ward the west, pen­etrat­ing far­ther and far­ther to the south. Bad­ly re­ceived by the great aris­to­crat­ic fam­ily of the Walid-​si­di- Sheikh, he re-​en­tered Mo­roc­co, but the em­per­or of that coun­try, dread­ing his in­flu­ence and fear­ing dif­fi­cul­ties with the French, drove him out. This was the end. On the 23rd of De­cem­ber 1847 Abd-​el-​Kad­er sur­ren­dered to Gen­er­al Lam­or­iciere in the plains of Si­di-​Brahim. His ad­ver­sary, Bugeaud, was there no longer. Hav­ing failed to per­suade the French gov­ern­ment to adopt his plans of mil­itary col­oniza­tion, he had re­tired in June 1847 and had been re­placed by the duc d’Au­male.

The sur­ren­der of Abd-​el-​Kad­er marks the end of the pe­ri­od of the con­quest. It is true that Great Kabylia had to be sub­dued on­ly ten years lat­er, and that ter­ri­ble in­sur­rec­tions still had to be quelled. But at the end of the reign of Louis Philippe the es­sen­tial work was ac­com­plished. All that re­mained was to com­plete and to se­cure it.

French progress.

Un­der the sec­ond re­pub­lic Al­ge­ria was gov­erned suc­ces­sive­ly by Gen­er­als L. E. Cavaignac (Febru­ary to April 1848), N. A. T. Changar­nier (April to Septem­ber 1848), V. Charon (Septem­ber 1848 to Oc­to­ber 1850), and A. H. d’Haut­poul (Oc­to­ber 1850 to De­cem­ber 1851). The pol­icy fol­lowed at this pe­ri­od con­sist­ed in as­sim­ilat­ing Al­ge­ria to France. Im­por­tant ef­forts were made to at­tract French colonists to the coun­try, the col­oniza­tion of Al­ge­ria ap­pear­ing as a means to­wards the ex­tinc­tion of pau­perism in the moth­er-​coun­try. This point of view sug­gest­ed nu­mer­ous projects, as chimeri­cal as they were gen­er­ous; two mil­lions ster­ling (50 mil­lion francs) were ex­pend­ed with a view to in­stalling Parisian un­em­ployed work­men as colonists, but this at­tempt failed mis­er­ably. The most re­mark­able mil­itary events of this pe­ri­od were (1) the siege and de­struc­tion of the oa­sis of Za­atcha, where the in­hab­itants, dis­pleased by an al­ter­ation in the tax on palms, rose at the voice of a fa­nat­ic named Bu-​Zian; (2) the in­ef­fec­tu­al cam­paign of Mar­shal Saint Ar­naud in Lit­tle Kabylia, where the tribes rose at the in­sti­ga­tion of Bu-​Magla (“the mule man”) in 1851.

Mar­shal J. L. C. A. Ran­don (1795-1871), named gov­er­nor- gen­er­al of Al­ge­ria af­ter the coup d’etat, had at first to re­press in the south a ris­ing of a new “mas­ter of the hour,” Ma­homet ben Ab­dal­lah, the sherif of War­gla. A col­umn seized Laghouat (El Aghu­at) in De­cem­ber 1852. Si-​Hamza, lead­er of the Walid­si­di-​Sheikh, an al­ly of France, in­dig­nant at the grow­ing in­flu­ence of a base-​born ag­ita­tor, pur­sued him and seized War­gla (1853). In 1854 Gen­er­al Desvaux en­tered Tug­gurt. Hence­forth mat­ters re­mained qui­et in the re­gion of the Sa­hara, and Mar­shal Ran­don turned his ef­forts to­wards Kabylia. Nei­ther the Ro­mans nor the Turks had been able to sub­due this square moun­tain­ous tract, of which Bougie, Setif, Au­male and Dellys form the four cor­ners. But in two months (May to June 1857) Mar­shal Ran­don made him­self mas­ter of it, and built in the heart of this coun­try Fort Napoleon (now Fort Na­tion­al), “the thorn in the side of Kabylia,” whose bat­ter­ies com­mand­ed all the Kabyle vil­lages of the re­gion.

In 1858 the cre­ation of a “min­istry of Al­ge­ria and of the colonies” brought about the res­ig­na­tion of Mar­shal Ran­don. The ad­min­is­tra­tive head­quar­ters of Al­ge­ria was then trans­ferred from Al­giers to Paris. The min­istry of Al­ge­ria was en­trust­ed first to Prince Napoleon, and af­ter­wards to the mar­quis J. N. S. P. de Chas­seloup-​Laubat (1805-1873). But this of­fice, cre­at­ed at the least pre­ma­ture­ly, soon dis­ap­peared with­out caus­ing any re­grets. This ephemer­al regime last­ed from the 24th of June 1858 to the 24th of Novem­ber 1860. The de­cree of the 24th of Novem­ber 1860 trans­ferred the ser­vices from Paris back to Al­giers, and re-​es­tab­lished the func­tions of gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, which were ex­er­cised at the end of the sec­ond em­pire first by Mar­shal Pelissier, duc de Malakoff (De­cem­ber 1860 to Septem­ber 1864) and then by Mar­shal Macma­hon, duc de Ma­gen­ta (Septem­ber 1864 to Ju­ly 1870). At this pe­ri­od the con­cep­tion of the Arab king­dom was preva­lent. The em­per­or Napoleon III., in a cel­ebrat­ed let­ter, wrote that he was as much the em­per­or of the Arabs as the em­per­or of the French. Al­ge­ria was con­sid­ered as a kind of great mil­itary fief, and the of­fi­cers who ruled there com­mon­ly took the side of the na­tive chief­tains against the civ­il pop­ula­tion. Eu­ro­pean col­oniza­tion, ham­pered by the ill-​will of the Arab bu­reaux, then made lit­tle progress.

Re­volt of 1864-1871.

It was at this pe­ri­od that the great in­sur­rec­tion of the Walid­si­di-​Sheikh broke out in the Sud Oranais. This pow­er­ful fam­ily had lived up to that time on a good un­der­stand­ing with France; Si-​Hamza, chief of the el­der branch, had re­mained un­til his death (1861) a faith­ful al­ly of France. Thanks to him, the se­cu­ri­ty of the south­ern fron­tier was as­sured. But af­ter his death his son, Si-​Sli­man, im­bued with an­ti-​French sen­ti­ments, re­volt­ed in 1864 and mas­sa­cred the Beaupre­tre col­umn. Sev­er­al years were oc­cu­pied in quelling the in­sur­rec­tion. Com­pelled to guard them­selves on the south against the Walid-​si­di-​Sheikh,the French re­al­ized how much they lost by not hav­ing the sup­port of these great chief­tains. They then ac­cept­ed the ser­vices of­fered to them by Si-​Sli­man-​ben- Kadour, chief of the younger branch of the Walid-​si­di-​Sheikh, who main­tained tran­quil­li­ty in the Sud Oranais dur­ing the great in­sur­rec­tion of Kabylia in 1871.

The caus­es of this in­sur­rec­tion were man­ifold, and, more­over, in­ter­de­pen­dent: the in­jury done to the mil­itary pres­tige of France by its de­feats in Eu­rope; the fall of the im­pe­ri­al gov­ern­ment, in which, in the eyes of the na­tives, the au­thor­ity of France was in­car­nate; and the in­sults of­fered with im­puni­ty in the streets by the civ­il pop­ula­tion to the of­fi­cers, who were loved and re­spect­ed by the Arabs, at the same time that the de­cree of Adolphe Cremieux ac­cord­ed to the Al­ger­ine Jews the rights of French cit­izens. The great na­tive chiefs, be­wil­dered and dis­qui­et­ed, thought them­selves men­aced. The in­sur­rec­tion was in­evitable. Mokrani, bach-​agha of the Me­jana, whom the im­pe­ri­al gov­ern­ment had load­ed with hon­ours, gave the sig­nal. He had an in­ter­view with El Had­dad, the sheikh of the Khuans, the re­li­gious con­fra­ter­ni­ty of Si­di-​Abd-​er-​Rah­man, whose in­flu­ence was great, and hav­ing se­cured his sup­port in April 1871, Mokrani pro­claimed the holy war. At the bid­ding of El Had­dad the whole of Kabylia rose, and num­bers of French colonists were mas­sa­cred; the columns of Colonel Cerez and Gen­er­al F. G. Saussier had to en­gage in nu­mer­ous fights. The death of the bach-​agha at the bat­tle of Su­flat, the sub­mis­sion of the Sheikh El Had­dad, and fi­nal­ly the ar­rest of Bu-​Meyrag, broth­er of Mokrani, mark the de­clin­ing stages of the in­sur­rec­tion, which was com­plete­ly sup­pressed by Au­gust 1871. A heavy war con­tri­bu­tion was im­posed up­on the rebels and their lands were se­ques­trat­ed. The Beni-​Man­as­sir, who rose al­most at the same time in the Dahra, were sub­dued soon af­ter. Sub­se­quent­ly the na­tive pop­ula­tion of the Al­ger­ine Tell re­mained qui­et, the mas­sacre of the colonists at Mar­gueritte many years lat­er be­ing a lo­cal and iso­lat­ed move­ment.

Since 1870.

Un­der the third re­pub­lic Al­ge­ria was gov­erned suc­ces­sive­ly by Ad­mi­ral L. H. de Guey­don (March 1871 to June 1873), Gen­er­al A. E. A. Chanzy (June 1873 to Febru­ary 1879), J. P. L. Al­bert Grevy (March 1879 to Novem­ber 1881), Tir­man (Novem­ber 1881 to April 1891), Jules Cam­bon (April 1891 to Septem­ber 1897), Louis Lep­ine (Septem­ber 1897 to Au­gust 1898), E. J. La­fer­riere (Au­gust 1898 to Oc­to­ber 1900), Charles Jon­nart (Oc­to­ber 1900 to June 1901), A. J. P. Revoil (June 1901 to April 1903), and again Jon­nart. Dur­ing the first years of the new regime a keen re­ac­tion was pro­duced against the po­lit­ical sys­tem of the im­pe­ri­al gov­ern­ment in Africa. The civ­il ter­ri­to­ry was con­sid­er­ably en­larged at the ex­pense of the mil­itary. An ef­fort was made to at­tract French colonists to Al­ge­ria by gra­tu­itous con­ces­sions of land. Some lands were grant­ed in par­tic­ular to na­tives of Al­sace-​Lor­raine, who pre­ferred to re­tain French na­tion­al­ity af­ter the war. Peas­ants from the south of France, whose vines had been de­stroyed by the phyl­lox­era, crossed the Mediter­ranean and es­tab­lished in Al­ge­ria an im­por­tant vine­yard. This dou­ble cur­rent of im­mi­gra­tion no­tably in­creased the French pop­ula­tion of North Africa. The ten­den­cy then was to treat Al­ge­ria as a piece of France. This as­sim­ila­tive pol­icy at­tained its cul­mi­nat­ing point in the so-​called de­crees of rat­tache­ment (1881), in pur­suance of which each min­is­te­ri­al de­part­ment in France was made re­spon­si­ble for Al­ger­ine af­fairs which came by their na­ture with­in its ju­ris­dic­tion.

Af­ter a great in­quiry held in 1892 by a sen­ato­ri­al com­mit­tee a re­ac­tion was pro­duced in France against this ex­ces­sive as­sim­ila­tion. The sys­tem of rat­tache­ment was in great part aban­doned, and de­cen­tral­iza­tion was ob­tained by aug­ment­ing the pow­ers of the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, and by grant­ing to Al­ge­ria le­gal per­son­al­ity and a spe­cial bud­get (see above, Cen­tral Gov­ern­ment.) These re­forms ap­pear to have giv­en sat­is­fac­tion to Al­ge­ri­an opin­ion. Pro­found­ly trou­bled as Al­ge­ria was in the last years of the 19th cen­tu­ry by the an­ti-​Semitic ag­ita­tion, which oc­ca­sioned fre­quent changes of gov­er­nors, it ap­pears to-​day to have turned aside from ster­ile po­lit­ical strug­gles to in­ter­est it­self ex­clu­sive­ly in the eco­nom­ic de­vel­op­ment of the coun­try.

The move­ment of ex­pan­sion to­wards the south was con­tin­ued un­der the third re­pub­lic. In 1873 Gen­er­al G. A. A. Gail­ifet en­tered El Golea. In 1882 the oa­sis of Mz­ab was an­nexed. In the Sud Oranais an in­sur­rec­tion, fo­ment­ed by a marabout named Bu-​Ama­ma, broke out in 1881, and the in­sur­gents mas­sa­cred the Eu­ro­pean labour­ers en­gaged in the col­lec­tion of al­fa (or es­par­to) grass. But soon the French columns re-​es­tab­lished peace, and Bu-​Ama­ma had to take refuge in Mo­roc­co. In 1883 Si-​Hamza, chief of the el­der branch of the Wahd-​si­di-​Sheikh, made his sub­mis­sion, and since then that fam­ily has re­mained de­vot­ed to France.

The at­tempts at pen­etra­tion in­to the ex­treme south, aban­doned af­ter the mas­sacre by Tu­areg of a mis­sion sent in 1881, un­der Colonel Paul Flat­ters, to study the ques­tion of rail­way com­mu­ni­ca­tion with Sene­gal, were be­gun again in 1890, in which year the British gov­ern­ment rec­og­nized the west­ern Sa­hara as with­in the French sphere. Since then mil­itary sta­tions and sci­en­tif­ic and com­mer­cial ex­plo­ration have in­creased. But the re­sults of these ef­forts re­mained in­con­sid­er­able un­til the spring of 1900, when the French au­thor­ities de­cid­ed to oc­cu­py the oases of Gu­rara, Tu­at and Tidikelt. This be­ing ac­com­plished by March 1901, the con­quest of the Al­ger­ine Sa­hara was from that time com­plet­ed, and noth­ing any longer hin­dered the at­tempts to join Al­ge­ria and the Su­dan across the Sa­hara. (A. GIR.)

BIB­LIOO­RA­PHY.–For a gen­er­al ac­count of Al­ge­ria, see Mau­rice Wahl, L’Al­gerie (5th ed., Paris, 1908); P. Leroy-​Beaulieu, Al­gerie et Tunisie (2nd ed., Paris, 1897); J. A. Bat­tandi­er and L. Tra­but, L’Al­gerie; le sol et les habi­tants (Paris, 1898), spe­cial­ly valu­able for agri­cul­ture and fau­na; Arthur Gi­rault, Principes de coloni­sa­tion et de leg­is­la­tion colo­niale, Tome iii. ch. i.-vi­ii. (3rd ed., Paris, 1908), con­tain­ing valu­able bib­li­ogra­phies of works re­lat­ing to leg­is­la­tion, ju­rispru­dence, &c.; Jules Du­val, L’Al­gerie et les colonies fran­cais­es (Paris, 1877). The Statis­ti­aue gen­erale de l’Al­gerie is pub­lished pe­ri­od­ical­ly by the Al­ge­ri­an gov­ern­ment. The British For­eign Of­fice pub­lish­es an­nu­al Re­ports on the Trade of Al­ge­ria; Sir R. Lam­bert Play­fair’s Hand­book for Trav­ellers in Al­ge­ria (Mur­ray’s Hand­books), cor­rect­ed to 1902, is a cap­ital guide to the coun­try, as is al­so Al­gerie et Tunisie (Paris, 1906), in the Guides- Joanne Se­ries; the Bib­li­og­ra­phy of Al­ge­ria (Lon­don, 1888), and the Sup­ple­ment to the Bib­li­og­ra­phy of Al­ge­ria (Lon­don, 1898), by Sir Lam­bert Play­fair, con­tain thou­sands of en­tries and many notes. J. A. Bat­tandi­er and L. Tra­but, Flo­re de l’Al­gerie (Al­giers and Paris, 1884 and on­wards), con­tains a sci­en­tif­ic and de­scrip­tive cat­alogue, in sev­er­al vol­umes, of the in­dige­nous flo­ra. For the ge­ol­ogy of Al­ge­ria, see M. A. Pomel, De­scrip­tion strati­graphique gen­erale de l’Al­gerie (1889), and nu­mer­ous pa­pers by E. Ficheur, L. Gen­til, G. Rol­land, P. Thomas, and J. Welsch will be found in the Bull. Soc. Ge­ol. France, and Compt. Rend, Acad. Sci. The vol­umes of the In­ter­na­tion­al Ge­olog­ical Congress re­view Al­ge­ri­an ge­ol­ogy. The French gov­ern­ment pub­li­ca­tion, Ex­plo­ration sci­en­tifique de l’Al­gerie (20 vols., 1844-1853), gives the re­sults of in­ves­ti­ga­tions made in 1840-1842. O. De­pont and X. Con­polani, Les Con­feeries re­li­gious­es musul­manes (Al­giers, 1897), and Carte de l,Al­gerie . . . do­maine ge­ographique des con­freries (Al­giers, 1898), have spe­cial ref­er­ence to the Is­lam­ic sects in Al­ge­ria. Stephane Gsell’s Les mon­uments an­tiques de l’Al­gerie (2 vols., Baris, 1901), one of the pub­li­ca­tions of the Ser­vice des mon­uments his­toriques of the colony, is an au­thor­ita­tive and fine­ly il­lus­trat­ed work on the an­tiq­ui­ties of Al­ge­ria. For ar­chae­ol­ogy see al­so the bib­li­og­ra­phy in AFRICA, RO­MAN.

The best best el­emen­tary work on the his­to­ry of Al­ge­ria is that of Cat, Pe­tite his­toire de l’Al­gerie (Al­giers, 1889). For more pro­found re­search­es con­sult: (a) for the Turk­ish pe­ri­od: H. D. de Gra­mont, His­toire d’Al­ger sous la dom­ina­tion turque (1887); Merci­er, His­toire de l’Afrique septeniri­onale (1888-1891); Eu­gene Plantet, Cor­re­spon­dance des deys d’Al­ger avec la cour de France (1889–1892); Paul Mas­son, His­toire dec etab­lisse­ments et du com­merce fran­cais dans l’Afrique bar­baresque (1903); Gen­er­al Fau­re-​Biguet, His­toire de l’A.irique septen­tri­onale sous la dom­ina­tion musul­mane (1905); (b) for the French pe­ri­od: Camille Rous­set, La Con­quete d’Al­ger (8th ed., 1899), Les Com­mence­ments d’une con­quete; l,Al­gerie de 1830 a 1840, with at­las (1887), and La Con­quete de l’Al­gerie, 1841- 1857, with at­las (1889); Pelissier, An­nales al­ge­ri­ennes (1834); Leon Roches, Trente-​deux ans a travers l’Is­lam (1884-1837); Colonel Trumelet, His­toire de l’in­sur­rec­tion des Guled-​Si­di-​Cheik (1887); Rinn, His­toire de l’in­sur­rec­tion de 1871 (1891).

The best gen­er­al maps are those of the Carte de l’Al­gerie, in nu­mer­ous sheets, on the scale of 1:50,000 (pub­lished by the Ser­vice ge­ographique de l’Armee, Paris). (F. R. C.)

1 The name “Great” At­las is more cor­rect­ly ap­plied to the main range in Mo­roc­co.

2 The fig­ures giv­en are not those of the com­munes, but of the towns prop­er, cer­tain class­es of per­sons (such as troops, lu­natics, con­victs) ex­clud­ed from the mu­nic­ipal fran­chise not be­ing count­ed.

3 This west­ern bey­lik cor­re­spond­ed rough­ly with the for­mer sul­tanate of Tlem­cen (q.v..)

AL­GHERO, a sea­port and epis­co­pal see on the W. coast of Sar­dinia, in the province of Sas­sari, 21 m. S.S.W. by rail from the town of Sas­sari. Pop. (1901) 10,779. The see was found­ed in 1503, but the cathe­dral it­self dates from the 12th cen­tu­ry, though it has been re­con­struct­ed. The town was strong­ly for­ti­fied by me­dieval walls, which have to some ex­tent been de­mol­ished. It was orig­inal­ly found­ed by the Do­ria fam­ily of Genoa about 1102, but was oc­cu­pied by the house of Aragon in 1354, who held it suc­cess­ful­ly against var­ious at­tacks un­til it fell to the house of Savoy with the rest of Sar­dinia in 1720. Cat­alo­ni­an is still spo­ken here. Charles V. vis­it­ed Al­ghero on his way to Africa in 1541. The coral and fish­ing in­dus­tries are the most im­por­tant in Al­ghero, but agri­cul­ture has made some progress in the dis­trict, which pro­duces good wine. There is a large pe­nal es­tab­lish­ment con­tain­ing over 700 con­victs. Sev­en miles to the W.N.W. is the fine nat­ural har­bour of Por­to Con­te, se­cure in all weath­er, and on the W. of this har­bour is the Capo Cac­cia, with two sta­lac­tite grot­tos, the finest of which, the Grot­ta di Net­tuno, is ac­ces­si­ble on­ly from the sea. The im­por­tant pre­his­toric necrop­olis of Anghelu Ru­ju was ex­ca­vat­ed in 1904 61 m. N. of Al­ghero (No­tizie degli Scavi, 1904, 301 seq.).

AL­GIDUS MONS, a por­tion of the ridge form­ing the rim of the larg­er crater of the Al­ban vol­cano (see AL­BANUS MONS) and more es­pe­cial­ly the east­ern por­tion, tra­versed by a nar­row open­ing (now called the Ca­va d’Aglio) of which the Via Lati­na took ad­van­tage, and which fre­quent­ly ap­pears in the ear­ly mil­itary his­to­ry of Rome. That a dis­tinct town ex­ist­ed (Dion. Hal­ic. x. 21, xi. 3) on the moun­tain is im­prob­able; there must have been a for­ti­fied post, but the ex­ten­sive cas­tle on the hill (Mas­chio d’Ar­iano) to the south of the Via Lati­na is en­tire­ly me­dieval, a fact which has not been rec­og­nized by some to­pog­ra­phers.

AL­GIERS (Fr. Al­ger, Arab. Jezair, i.e. The Is­lands), cap­ital and largest city of Al­ge­ria, North Africa, seat of the gov­er­nor- gen­er­al, of a court of ap­peal, and of an arch­bish­op, and sta­tion of the French XIX. corps d’armee. It is sit­uat­ed on the west side of a bay of the Mediter­ranean, to which it gives its name, in 36 deg. 47′ N., 3 deg. 4′ E., and is built on the slopes of the Sa­hel, a chain of hills par­al­lel to the coast. The view of the city from the sea is one of great beau­ty. Seen from a dis­tance it ap­pears like a suc­ces­sion of daz­zling white ter­races ris­ing from the wa­ter’s edge. The hous­es be­ing seem­ing­ly em­bow­ered in the lux­uri­ant ver­dure of the Sa­hel, the ef­fect is im­pos­ing and pic­turesque, and has giv­en rise to the Arab com­par­ison of the town to a di­amond set in an emer­ald frame. The city con­sists of two parts; the mod­ern French town, built on the lev­el ground by the seashore, and the an­cient city of the deys, which climbs the steep hill be­hind the mod­ern town and is crowned by the kas­bah or citadel, 400 ft. above the sea. The kas­bah forms the apex of a tri­an­gle of which the quays form the base.

Ex­tend­ing along the front of the town is the boule­vard de la Re­publique, a fine road built by Sir Mor­ton Peto on a se­ries of arch­es, with a frontage of 3700 ft., and bor­dered on one side by hand­some build­ings, whilst a wide prom­enade over­look­ing the har­bour runs along the oth­er. Two in­clined roads lead from the cen­tre of the boule­vard to the quay 40 ft. be­low. On the quay are the land­ing-​stages, the cus­tom-​house and the rail­way sta­tion. At the south­ern end of the boule­vard de la Re­publique is the square de la Re­publique, for­mer­ly the place Bres­son, in which is the mu­nic­ipal the­atre; at the oth­er ex­trem­ity of the boule­vard is the place du Gou­verne­ment, which is plant­ed on three sides with a dou­ble row of plane trees and is the fash­ion­able re­sort for evening prom­enade. The prin­ci­pal streets of the city meet in the place du Gou­verne­ment: the rue Bab Azoun (Gate of Grief) which runs par­al­lel to the boule­vard de la Re­publique; the rue Bab-​el-​Oued (Riv­er Gate) which goes north to the site of the old ar­se­nal de­mol­ished in 1900; the rue de la Ma­rine which leads to the an­cient har­bour, and in which are the two prin­ci­pal mosques. A large part of the mod­ern town lies south of the square de la Re­publique; in this quar­ter are the law courts, ho­tel de ville, post of­fice and oth­er pub­lic build­ings. The streets in the mod­ern town are reg­ular­ly laid out; sev­er­al are ar­cad­ed on both sides.

The old town presents a strong con­trast to the new town. The streets are nar­row, tor­tu­ous and in­ac­ces­si­ble to car­riages. They of­ten end in a cul-​de-​sac. The prin­ci­pal street is the rue de la Kas­bah, which leads up to the citadel by 497 steps. The streets are joined by al­leys just wide enough to pass through. The hous­es, built of stone and white­washed, are square, sub­stan­tial, flat-​topped build­ings, pre­sent­ing to the street bare walls, with a few slits pro­tect­ed by iron grat­ings in place of win­dows. Each house has a quad­ran­gle in the cen­tre, in­to which it looks, and which is en­tered by a low, nar­row door­way. Shops in the na­tive quar­ter are sim­ply cham­bers in the walls of the hous­es, and open at the front. In these shops the few Moor­ish in­dus­tries are car­ried on, such as em­broi­dery in gold and sil­ver thread, the mak­ing of kid slip­pers of ev­ery kind and colour, the man­ufac­ture of gold and sil­ver or­na­ments. To Eu­ro­pean eyes the na­tive city, with its mot­ley throng of Moors, Arabs, Jews and ne­groes, is the most in­ter­est­ing sight in Al­giers. Var­ious squares are set apart for mar­kets, and here are to be wit­nessed scenes of the great­est an­ima­tion.

The pub­lic build­ings of chief in­ter­est are the kas­bah, the gov­ern­ment of­fices (for­mer­ly the British con­sulate), the palaces of the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al and the arch­bish­op–all these are fine Moor­ish hous­es; the “Grand” and the “New’, Mosques, the Ro­man Catholic cathe­dral of St Philippe, the church of the Holy Trin­ity (Church of Eng­land), and the Bib­lio­theque Na­tionale d’Al­ger–a Turk­ish palace built in 1799-1800. The kas­bah was be­gun in 1516 on the site of an old­er build­ing, and served as the palace of the deys un­til the French con­quest. A road has been cut through the cen­tre of the build­ing, the mosque turned in­to bar­racks, and the hall of au­di­ence al­lowed to fall in­to ru­in. There still re­main a minaret and some mar­ble arch­es and columns. Traces ex­ist of the vaults in which were stored the trea­sures of the dey. The Grand Mosque (Ja­maa-​el-​Ke­bir) is tra­di­tion­al­ly said to be the old­est mosque in Al­giers. The pul­pit (mim­bar) bears an in­scrip­tion show­ing that the build­ing ex­ist­ed in 1018. The minaret was built by Abu Tachfin, sul­tan of Tlem­cen, in 1324. The in­te­ri­or of the mosque is square and is di­vid­ed in­to aisles by columns joined by Moor­ish arch­es. The prin­ci­pal fa­cade, in the rue de la Ma­rine, con­sists of a row of white mar­ble columns sup­port­ing an ar­cade. The New Mosque (Ja­maa-​el-​Je­did), dat­ing from the 17th cen­tu­ry, is in the form of a Greek cross, sur­mount­ed by a large white cupo­la, with four small cupo­las at the cor­ners. The minaret is 90 ft. high. The in­te­ri­or re­sem­bles that of the Grand Mosque. The church of the Holy Trin­ity (built in 1870) stands at the south­ern end of the rue d’Is­ly near the site of the de­mol­ished Fort Bab Azoun. The in­te­ri­or is rich­ly dec­orat­ed with var­ious coloured mar­bles. Many of these mar­bles con­tain memo­ri­al in­scrip­tions re­lat­ing to the En­glish res­idents (vol­un­tary and in­vol­un­tary) of Al­giers from the time of John Tip­ton, British con­sul in 1580. One tablet records that in 1631 two Al­ger­ine pi­rate crews land­ed in Ire­land, sacked Bal­ti­more, and car­ried off its in­hab­itants to slav­ery; an­oth­er re­calls the ro­man­tic es­cape of Ida M`Don­nell, daugh­ter of Ad­mi­ral Ul­ric, con­sul- gen­er­al of Den­mark, and wife of the British con­sul. When Lord Ex­mouth was about to bom­bard the city in 1816, the British con­sul was thrown in­to prison and load­ed with chains. Mrs. M`Don­nell–who was but six­teen–es­caped to the British fleet dis­guised as a mid­ship­man, car­ry­ing a bas­ket of veg­eta­bles in which her ba­by was hid­den. (Mrs. M`Don­nell sub­se­quent­ly mar­ried the duc de Tal­leyrand-​Perig­ord and died at Flo­rence in 1880). Among lat­er res­idents com­mem­orat­ed is Ed­ward Lloyd, who was the first per­son to show the val­ue of es­par­to grass for the man­ufac­ture of pa­per, and thus start­ed an in­dus­try which is one of the most im­por­tant in Al­ge­ria.

The cathe­dral of St Philippe, built on the site of a mosque, is in the place Malakoff, next to the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al’s palace. In its con­struc­tion an at­tempt has been made to pro­duce a build­ing suit­able for Chris­tian wor­ship whilst the ar­chi­tec­ture is Moor­ish in style. The prin­ci­pal en­trance, reached by a flight of 23 steps, is or­na­ment­ed with a por­ti­co sup­port­ed by four black-​veined mar­ble columns. The roof of the nave is of Moor­ish plas­ter work. It rests on a se­ries of ar­cades sup­port­ed by white mar­ble columns. Sev­er­al of these columns be­longed to the for­mer mosque. In one of the chapels is a tomb con­tain­ing the bones of San Geron­imo. The find­ing of the re­mains of the saint in 1853 af­ford­ed strik­ing con­fir­ma­tion of an in­ci­dent record­ed by a Span­ish Bene­dic­tine named Hae­do, who pub­lished a to­pog­ra­phy of Al­ge­ria in 1612. Hae­do sets forth that a young Arab who had em­braced Chris­tian­ity and had been bap­tized with the name of Geron­imo was cap­tured by a Moor­ish cor­sair in 1569 and tak­en to Al­giers. The Arabs en­deav­oured, to in­duce Geron­imo to re­nounce Chris­tian­ity, but as he stead­fast­ly re­fused to do so he was con­demned to death. Bound hand and foot he was thrown alive in­to a mould in which a block of con­crete was about to be made. The block con­tain­ing his body was built in­to an an­gle of the Fort of the Twen­ty-​four Hours, then un­der con­struc­tion. In 1853 the Fort of the Twen­ty-​four Hours was de­mol­ished, and in the an­gle spec­ified by Hae­do the skele­ton of Geron­imo was found. The bones were in­terred at St Phih­ppe. In­to the mould left by the saint’s body liq­uid plas­ter of Paris was run, and a per­fect mod­el ob­tained, show­ing the fea­tures of the youth, the cords which bound him, and even the tex­ture of his cloth­ing. This mod­el is now in the mu­se­um at Mustapha (see be­low).

Al­giers pos­sess­es a col­lege with schools of law, medicine, sci­ence and let­ters. The col­lege build­ings are large and hand­some. There is al­so a lycee in which the in­struc­tion is sim­ilar to that giv­en in France, and in which Chris­tians, Jews and Ma­hommedans are ed­ucat­ed to­geth­er. The mu­se­um (a state in­sti­tu­tion), for­mer­ly housed in the same build­ing as the li­brary, was trans­ferred in 1897 to a new build­ing in the sub­urb of Mustapha Su­perieur. In the mu­se­um are some of the an­cient sculp­tures and mo­saics dis­cov­ered in Al­ge­ria, to­geth­er with medals and Al­ge­ri­an mon­ey. New build­ings, to con­tain spec­imens of Moslem art, were added in 1903.

The port of Al­giers is shel­tered from all winds. There are two har­bours, both ar­ti­fi­cial–the old or north­ern har­bour and the south­ern or Agha har­bour. The north­ern har­bour cov­ers an area of 235 acres. The depth at the en­trance is 72 to 108 ft., and in port from 36 to 66 ft. Two gov­ern­ment dry docks are avail­able for mer­chant ves­sels. The quays cov­er 18,000 sq. yds. There are three jet­ties, north, east and south. With­in this har­bour is the small har­bour of the deys, now trans­formed in­to a wet dock. An open­ing in the south jet­ty af­fords an en­trance in­to Agha har­bour, con­struct­ed in Agha Bay. This har­bour is formed by the pro­jec­tion of a mole, 2500 ft. in length, from the east­ern jet­ty of the old har­bour. It pro­vides ex­ten­sive quayage with a min­imum depth of wa­ter of 28 ft. Agha har­bour has al­so an in­de­pen­dent en­trance on its south­ern side. Al­giers is the chief coal­ing sta­tion in the Mediter­ranean, hav­ing be­come so large­ly at the ex­pense of Gibral­tar. In oth­er re­spects the trade re­sem­bles that of oth­er Al­ge­ri­an ports. (For trade statis­tics see AL­GE­RIA.) The in­ner har­bour was be­gun in 1518 by Khair-​ed- Din (see His­to­ry, be­low), who, to ac­com­mo­date his pi­rate ves­sels, caused the is­land on which was Fort Penon to be con­nect­ed with the main­land by a mole. The light­house which oc­cu­pies the site of Fort Penon was built in 1544. Work on the north­ern har­bour was be­gun in 1836, on the south­ern in 1904. Al­giers main­tains com­mu­ni­ca­tion with Mar­seilles by a quick ser­vice of steam­ers, which run the 497 miles across the Mediter­ranean in twen­ty-​eight to thir­ty hours. The jour­ney be­tween Al­giers and Paris, from which it is dis­tant 1031 miles, is ac­com­plished in about forty-​five hours.

Al­giers was a walled city from the time of the deys un­til the close of the 19th cen­tu­ry. The French, af­ter their oc­cu­pa­tion of the city (1830), built a ram­part, para­pet and ditch, with two ter­mi­nal forts, Bab Azoun to the south and Bab-​el-​Oued to the north. The forts and part of the ram­parts were de­mol­ished at the be­gin­ning of the 20th cen­tu­ry, when a line of forts oc­cu­py­ing the heights of Bu Zarea (at an el­eva­tion of 1300 ft. above the sea) took their place.

Ow­ing to the mild­ness of its cli­mate Al­giers has be­come a favourite re­sort for those seek­ing to es­cape the rigours of a Eu­ro­pean win­ter. The city is well sup­plied with wa­ter and its san­itary state is good. The mis­tral of the Riv­iera is en­tire­ly ab­sent from Al­giers, but in sum­mer the city oc­ca­sion­al­ly suf­fers from the siroc­co or desert wind. The en­vi­rons of Al­giers are not­ed for their beau­ty and health­iness. Of the sub­urbs the most pic­turesque is Mustapha Su­perieur, about 2 m. from the cen­tre of the city on the slopes of the hills to the south. Here are the sum­mer palace of the gov­er­nor-​gen­er­al, many fine Moor­ish and French vil­las and lux­uri­ous ho­tels, all sur­round­ed by beau­ti­ful gar­dens. A nu­mer­ous British colony re­sides at Mustapha, where there is an En­glish club. Mustapha In­ferieur is built on the low­er slopes of the hills. Far­ther to the south is the large Jardin d’Es­sai, con­tain­ing five av­enues of palms, planes, bam­boos and mag­no­lias. Notre-​Dame d’Afrique, a church built (1858- 1872) in a mix­ture of the Ro­man and Byzan­tine styles, is con­spic­uous­ly sit­uat­ed, over­look­ing the sea, on the shoul­der of the Bu Zarea hills, 2 m. to the north of the city. Above the al­tar is a stat­ue of the Vir­gin de­pict­ed as a black wom­an. The church al­so con­tains a sol­id sil­ver stat­ue of the archangel Michael, be­long­ing to the con­fra­ter­ni­ty of Neapoli­tan fish­er­men. Be­yond Notre-​Dame d’Afrique is the beau­ti­ful Val­ley of the Con­suls, very lit­tle changed since the time of the deys. (The val­ley was in those days the favourite res­idence of the con­suls.) At the Pe­tit Sem­inaire, on the site of the old French con­sulate, Car­di­nal Lav­igerie died (1892).

In 1906 the pop­ula­tion of the com­mune of Al­giers was 154,049; the pop­ula­tion mu­nic­ipale, which ex­cludes the gar­ri­son, pris­on­ers, &c., was 145,280. Of this to­tal 138,240 were liv­ing in the city prop­er or in Mustapha. Of the in­hab­itants 105,908 were Eu­ro­peans. French res­idents num­bered 50,996, nat­ural­ized French­men 23,305, Spaniards 12,354, Ital­ians 7368, Mal­tese 865, and oth­er Eu­ro­peans (chiefly British and Ger­mans) 1652, be­sides 12,490 Jews. The re­main­der of the pop­ula­tion–all Ma­hommedans–are Moors, Arabs, Berbers, Ne­groes, with a few Turks. The vast ma­jor­ity of the Eu­ro­peans are Ro­man Catholics. Most of the nat­ural­ized French cit­izens are of Span­ish or Ital­ian ori­gin.

His­to­ry.–In Ro­man times a small town called Ico­sium ex­ist­ed on what is now the ma­rine quar­ter of the city. The rue de la Ma­rine fol­lows the lines of a Ro­man street. Ro­man ceme­ter­ies ex­ist­ed near the rues Bab-​el-​Oued and Bab Azoun. Bish­ops of Ico­sium–which was cre­at­ed a Latin city by Ves­pasian –are men­tioned as late as the 5th cen­tu­ry. The present city was found­ed in 944 by Bu­lukkin b. Zeiri, the founder of, the Zeirid-​San­ha­ja dy­nasty, which was over­thrown by Roger II. of Sici­ly in 1148 (see FA­TIMITES.) The Zeirids had be­fore that date lost Al­giers, which in 1159 was oc­cu­pied by the Al­mo­hades, and in the 13th cen­tu­ry came un­der the do­min­ion of the Abd-​el- Wahid, sul­tans of Tlem­cen. Nu­mi­nal­ly part of the sul­tanate of Tlem­cen, Al­giers had a large mea­sure of in­de­pen­dence un­der amirs of its own, Oran be­ing the chief sea­port of the Abd-​el- Nahid. The islet in front of the har­bour, sub­se­quent­ly known as the Penon, had been oc­cu­pied by the Spaniards as ear­ly as 1302. There­after a con­sid­er­able trade grew up be­tween Al­giers and Spain. Al­giers, how­ev­er, con­tin­ued of com­par­ative­ly lit­tle im­por­tance un­til af­ter the ex­pul­sion from Spain of the Moors, many of whom sought an asy­lum in the city. In 1510, fol­low­ing their oc­cu­pa­tion of Oran and oth­er towns on the coast of Africa, the Spaniards for­ti­fied the Penon. In 1516 the amir of Al­giers, Se­lim b. Teu­mi, in­vit­ed the broth­ers Arouj and Khair-​ed-​Din (Bar­barossa) to ex­pel the Spaniards. Arouj came to Al­giers, caused Se­lim to be as­sas­si­nat­ed, and seized the town. Khair- ed-​Din, suc­ceed­ing Arouj, drove the Spaniards from the Penon (1550) and was the founder of the pasha­lik, af­ter­wards dey­lik, of Al­ge­ria. Al­giers from this time be­came the chief seat of the Bar­bary pi­rates. In Oc­to­ber 1541 the em­per­or Charles V. sought to cap­ture the city, but a storm de­stroyed a great num­ber of his ships, and his army of some 30,000, chiefly Spaniards, was de­feat­ed by the Al­ge­ri­ans un­der their pasha, Has­san. Re­peat­ed at­tempts were made by var­ious Eu­ro­pean na­tions to sub­due the pi­rates, and in 1816 the city was bom­bard­ed by a British squadron un­der Lord Ex­mouth, as­sist­ed by Dutch men-​of-​war, and the cor­sair fleet burned. The pira­cy of the Al­ge­ri­ans was re­newed and con­tin­ued un­til 1830. On the 4th of Ju­ly in that year a French army un­der Gen­er­al de Bour­mont at­tacked the city, which ca­pit­ulat­ed on the fol­low­ing day (see AL­GE­RIA, His­to­ry.)

AL­GOA BAY, a wide, shal­low bay of South Africa, 436 m. E. from the Cape of Good Hope, bound­ed W. by Cape Re­cife, E. by Cape Padrone. St Croix Is­land in the bay is in 33 deg. 47′ S. 25 deg. 46′ E. On this is­land Bartholomew Di­az made his sec­ond land­ing in South Africa some time af­ter the 3rd of Febru­ary 1488, and from the cross which he is thought to have erect­ed on it the is­land gets its name. Al­goa Bay was the first land­ing-​place of the British em­igrants to the east­ern province of Cape Colony in 1820. At a spot 6 m. N.E. of Cape Re­cife these em­igrants found­ed a town, Port Eliz­abeth (q.v.), its har­bour be­ing shel­tered from all winds save the S.E. By sea­far­ers “Al­goa Bay” is used as syn­ony­mous with Port Eliz­abeth.

AL­GOL, the Ara­bic name (sig­ni­fy­ing “the De­mon”) of b Per­sei, a star of the sec­ond mag­ni­tude, no­ticed by G. Mon­ta­nari in 1669 to fluc­tu­ate in bright­ness. John Goodricke es­tab­lished in 1782 the pe­ri­od­ic­ity of its change in about 2d 21h and sug­gest­ed their cause in re­cur­ring eclipses by a large dark satel­lite. Their in­ter­mit­tent char­ac­ter prompt­ed the sup­po­si­tion. The light of Al­gol re­mains con­stant dur­ing close up­on 56 hours; then de­clines in 6 1/2 hours (ap­prox­imate­ly) to near­ly one-​fourth its nor­mal amount, and is re­stored by sen­si­bly the same gra­da­tions. The am­pli­tude of the phase is 1.1 mag­ni­tude; and the ab­sence of any sta­tion­ary in­ter­val at min­imum proves the eclipse to be par­tial, not an­nu­lar. Its con­di­tions were in­ves­ti­gat­ed from pho­to­met­ric da­ta, by Pro­fes­sor E. C. Pick­er­ing in 1880;1 and their re­al­iza­tion was fi­nal­ly demon­strat­ed by Dr H. C. Vo­gel’s spec­tro­scop­ic mea­sures in 1889.2 Pre­vi­ous­ly to each ob­scu­ra­tion, the star was found to be mov­ing rapid­ly away from the earth; its ve­loc­ity then di­min­ished to ze­ro pari pas­su with the loss of light, and re­versed its di­rec­tion dur­ing the pro­cess of re­cov­ery. Al­gol, in fact, trav­els at the rate of 26.3 miles a sec­ond round the cen­tre of grav­ity of the sys­tem which it forms with an in­vis­ible com­pan­ion, while the two to­geth­er ap­proach the sun with an un­vary­ing speed of 2.3 miles per sec­ond. The el­ements of this dis­parate pair, cal­cu­lat­ed by Dr Vo­gel on the some­what pre­car­ious as­sump­tion that its dark and bright mem­bers are of equal mean den­si­ty, are as fol­lows:–

Di­am­eter of Al­gol . . . . 1,061,000 En­glish miles. ” Satel­lite . . . 834,300 ” ” Dis­tance from cen­tre to cen­tre. 3,230,000 ” ” Mass of Al­gol . . . . . 4/9 so­lar mass. ” Satel­lite . . . . 2/9 ” ” Mean den­si­ty . . . . . about 1/4 so­lar.

The plane of the joint or­bit, in which no de­vi­ation from cir­cu­lar­ity has yet been de­tect­ed, near­ly co­in­cides with the line of sight. The pe­ri­od of Al­gol, as mea­sured by its eclipses, is sub­ject to com­plex ir­reg­ular­ities. It short­ened fit­ful­ly by eight sec­onds be­tween 1790 and 1879; soon af­ter­wards, restora­tion set in, and its ex­act length in 1903 was 2d 20h 48m 56s, be­ing on­ly two sec­onds short of its orig­inal val­ue. By an ex­haus­tive dis­cus­sion, Dr S. Chan­dler as­cer­tained in 1888 the com­pen­sato­ry na­ture of these dis­tur­bances;3 and he af­ter­wards found the most im­por­tant among sev­er­al which prob­ably con­spire to pro­duce the ob­served ef­fects, to be com­prised in a pe­ri­od of 15,000 light-​cy­cles, equiv­alent to 118 years.4 An ex­plana­to­ry hy­poth­esis, pro­pound­ed by him in 1892,5 is still on its tri­al. The sys­tem of Al­gol, ac­cord­ing to this view, is triple; it in­cludes a large, ob­scure pri­ma­ry, round which the eclips­ing pair re­volves in an or­bit some­what small­er than that of Uranus, very slight­ly el­lip­ti­cal, and in­clined 20 deg. to the line of sight, the pe­ri­od­ic time be­ing 118 years. The al­ter­nate de­lay and ac­cel­er­ation of the eclipses are then mere­ly ap­par­ent; they rep­re­sent the changes in the length of the light-​jour­ney as the stars per­form their wide cir­cuit. If these sup­po­si­tions have a ba­sis of re­al­ity, the prop­er mo­tion of Al­gol should be dis­turbed by a small, but mea­sur­able un­du­la­tion, cor­re­spond­ing to the pro­jec­tion of its or­bit up­on the sky; and al­though cer­tain­ty on the point can­not be at­tained for some years to come, Lewis Boss re­gard­ed the ev­idence avail­able in 1895 as tend­ing to con­firm Dr Chan­dler’s the­ory.6

A ri­val in­ter­pre­ta­tion of the phe­nom­ena it dealt with was put for­ward by F. Tis­serand in 1895.7 It in­volved the ac­tion of no third mass, but de­pend­ed sole­ly up­on the pro­gres­sion of the line of ap­sides in a mod­er­ate­ly el­lip­ti­cal or­bit due to the spheroidal shape of the globes travers­ing it. In­equal­ities of the re­quired sort in the re­turns of the eclipses would en­sue; more­over, their du­ra­tion should con­comi­tant­ly vary with the vary­ing dis­tance from pe­ri­as­tron at the times of their oc­cur­rence. It is a moot ques­tion whether changes of the lat­ter kind ac­tu­al­ly oc­cur. When they are proved to do so, Tis­serand’s hy­poth­esis will hold the field.

Al­gol gives a he­li­um-​spec­trum which un­der­goes no al­ter­ation at min­imum. Hence the light from the marginal and cen­tral por­tions of the disc is iden­ti­cal in qual­ity, and the limb can be lit­tle, if at all, dark­ened by the “smoke-​veil” ab­sorp­tion con­spic­uous in the sun. The rays of this star spend close up­on a cen­tu­ry in trav­el­ling hith­er. Dr Chase’s mea­sures with the Yale he­liome­ter in­di­cat­ed for it, in 1894, a par­al­lax of about 0” .035;8 and it must, ac­cord­ing­ly, be of near­ly four times the to­tal bright­ness of Sir­ius, while its aeri­al lus­tre ex­ceeds sev­en­ty- fold that of the so­lar pho­to­sphere. Vari­ables of the Al­gol class are ren­dered dif­fi­cult to dis­cov­er by the in­ci­den­tal char­ac­ter of their fluc­tu­ations. At the end of 1905, how­ev­er, about 37 had been cer­tain­ly rec­og­nized, be­sides some out­ly­ing cas­es of in­de­ter­mi­nate type, in which con­tin­uous oc­cul­ta­tions by two bright stars, re­volv­ing in vir­tu­al con­tact, are doubt­ful­ly sup­posed to be in progress. (A. M. C.)

1 Pro­ceed­ings Amer. Acad. vol. xvi. p. 27. 2 As­tr. Nach. No. 2947. 3 As­tr. Jour­nal, No. 165. 4 Ibid. No. 509. 5 Ibid. Nos. 255-256. 6 Ibid. No. 343. 7 Comptes Ren­dus, t. cxx. p 125. 8 As­tr. Jour. No. 318. AL­GO­NQUIN, or AL­GONKIN (a word for­mer­ly re­gard­ed as a French con­trac­tion of Al­go­me­quin, “those on the oth­er side” of the riv­er, viz. the St Lawrence, hut now be­lieved to be from the Mic­mac al­go­omak­ing–“at the place of spear­ing fish”), a col­lec­tive term for a num­ber of tribes of North Amer­ican In­di­ans dwelling in the val­ley of the Ot­tawa riv­er and around the north­ern trib­utaries of the St Lawrence. The Al­go­nquins al­lied them­selves with the French against the Iro­quois. Many were driv­en west by the lat­ter and lat­er be­came known as Ot­tawa. The French mis­sion­ar­ies at work among the Al­go­nquins ear­ly in the 17th cen­tu­ry found their lan­guage to be the key to the many In­di­an di­alects now in­clud­ed by philol­ogists un­der the gen­er­al term “Al­go­nquian stock.” The chief tribes in­clud­ed in this stock were the Al­go­nquin, Male­cite, Mic­mac, Nascapi, Pen­na­cook, Fox, Kick­apoo, Delaware, Cheyenne, Conoy, Cree, Mo­hi­can, Mas­sachuset, Menom­inee, Mi­ami, Mi­sis­aga, Mo­he­gan, Nan­ti­coke, Nar­ra­ganset, Nip­muc, Ojib­way, Ot­tawa, Pe­quot, Potawata­mi, Sac, Shawnee and Wampanoag. The In­di­ans of Al­go­nquian stock num­ber be­tween 80,000 and 90,000, of whom rather more than half are in the Unit­ed States, the rest be­ing in Cana­da. Of the Al­go­nquins prop­er there re­main about 1500 set­tled in the provinces of Que­bec and On­tario.

For de­tails see Hand­book of Amer­ican In­di­ans, ed. F. W. Hodge, Wash­ing­ton, 1907.

AL­GUAZIL, a Span­ish ti­tle of­ten to be met in sto­ries and plays, de­rived from the Ara­bic “visir” and the ar­ti­cle, “ al.” The al­guazil among the ear­ly Spaniards was a judge, and some­times the gov­er­nor of a town or fortress. In lat­er times he has grad­ual­ly sunk down to the rank of an of­fi­cer of the court, who is trust­ed with the ser­vice of writs and cer­tain po­lice du­ties, but he is still of high­er rank than the mere corchete or catch-​poll. The ti­tle has al­so been giv­en to in­spec­tors of weights and mea­sures in mar­ket-​places, and sim­ilar of­fi­cials.

AL­GUM, or AL­MUG TREE. The He­brew words Al­gum­mim or Al­mug­gim are trans­lat­ed Al­gum or Al­mug trees in the au­tho­rized ver­sion of the Bible (see 1 Kings x. 11, 12; 2 Chron. ii. 8, and ix. 10, 11); al­mug is an er­ro­neous form (see Max Muller, Sci­ence of Lan­guage, vol. i.). The wood of the tree was very pre­cious, and was brought from Ophir (prob­ably some part of In­dia), along with gold and pre­cious stones, by Hi­ram, and was used in the for­ma­tion of pil­lars for the tem­ple at Jerusalem, and for the king’s house; al­so for the in­lay­ing of stairs, as well as for harps and psalter­ies. It is prob­ably the red sanders or red san­dal-​wood of In­dia ( Pte­ro­car­pus san­tali­nus.) This tree be­longs to the nat­ural or­der Legu­mi­nosae, sub-​or­der Pa­pil­ionaceae. The wood is hard, heavy, close-​grained and of a fine red colour. It is dif­fer­ent from the white fra­grant san­dal-​wood, which is the pro­duce of San­talum al­bum, a tree be­long­ing to a dis­tinct nat­ural or­der San­ta­laceae.

AL­HAMA DE GRANA­DA, a town of south­ern Spain, in the province of Grana­da, 24 m. S.W. of Grana­da. Pop. (1900) 7679. Al­hama is fine­ly sit­uat­ed on a ledge of rock which over­looks a deep gorge tra­versed by the riv­er Marchan or Al­hama; while the rugged peaks of the Sier­ra de Al­hamarise be­hind it to a height of 6800 ft. The town is large­ly mod­ern; for over one thou­sand of its pic­turesque old Moor­ish hous­es, which for­mer­ly rose in ter­races up the moun­tain side, were de­stroyed, to­geth­er with five church­es, the hos­pi­tal, the the­atre, the prison, and 800 of the in­hab­itants, in an earth­quake which took place in 1884. Sub­scrip­tions were re­ceived from all parts of Spain, and the present town was built at a lit­tle dis­tance from its pre­de­ces­sor. Few ves­tiges of an­tiq­ui­ty sur­vived, ex­cept the baths from which Al­hama (in Ara­bic “the Bath”) de­rives its name. These are sit­uat­ed near the riv­er, and ap­pear to have been used con­tin­uous­ly since Ro­man times (c. 19 B.C.- A.D. 409) . The tem­per­ature of the hot sul­phurous springs is about 112 deg. F.; and, as the wa­ters are con­sid­ered ben­efi­cial in cas­es of rheuma­tism and dys­pep­sia, many vis­itors come to Al­hama in spring and au­tumn, at­tract­ed al­so by the fine scenery of the dis­trict. In the 15th cen­tu­ry Al­hama, and the neigh­bour­ing fortress of Lo­ja (q.v.), were gen­er­al­ly re­gard­ed as the keys of the king­dom of Grana­da, and their cap­ture went far to in­sure the over­throw of the Moor­ish pow­er. Al­hama was tak­en by the Span­ish mar­quis of Cadiz in 1482; and its fall is cel­ebrat­ed in an an­cient bal­lad, Ay de mi, Al­hama, which By­ron trans­lat­ed in­to En­glish.

AL­HAM­BRA, THE, an an­cient palace and fortress of the Moor­ish monar­chs of Grana­da, in south­ern Spain, oc­cu­py­ing a hilly ter­race on the south-​east­ern bor­der of the city of Grana­da. This ter­race or plateau, which mea­sures about 2430 ft. in length by 674 ft. at its great­est width, ex­tends from W.N.W. to E.S.E., and cov­ers an area of about 35 acres. It is en­closed by a strong­ly for­ti­fied wall, which is flanked by thir­teen tow­ers. The riv­er Dar­ro, which foams through a deep ravine on the north, di­vides the plateau from the Al­baicin dis­trict of Grana­da; the Ass­abi­ca val­ley, con­tain­ing the Al­ham­bra Park, on the west and south, and be­yond this val­ley the al­most par­al­lel ridge of Monte Mau­ror, sep­arate it from the An­te­queru­ela dis­trict.

The name Al­ham­bra, sig­ni­fy­ing in Ara­bic “the red,” is prob­ably de­rived from the colour of the sun-​dried tapia, or bricks made of fine grav­el and clay, of which the out­er walls are built. Some au­thor­ities, how­ev­er, hold that it com­mem­orates the red flare of the torch­es by whose light the work of con­struc­tion was car­ried on night­ly for many years; oth­ers as­so­ciate it with the name of the founder, Ma­homet Ibn Al Ah­mar; and oth­ers de­rive it from the Ara­bic Dar al Am­ra, “House of the Mas­ter.” (For an ac­count of the pe­ri­od to which the Al­ham­bra be­longs, see GRANA­DA (city) .) The palace was built chiefly be­tween 1248 and 1354, in the reigns of Al Ah­mar and his suc­ces­sors; but even the names of the prin­ci­pal artists em­ployed are ei­ther un­known or doubt­ful. The splen­did dec­ora­tions of the in­te­ri­or are as­cribed to Yusef I., who died in 1354. Im­me­di­ate­ly af­ter the ex­pul­sion of the Moors in 1492, their con­querors be­gan, by suc­ces­sive acts of van­dal­ism, to spoil the mar­vel­lous beau­ty of the Al­ham­bra. The open work was filled up with white­wash, the paint­ing and gild­ing ef­faced, the fur­ni­ture soiled, torn or re­moved. Charles V. (1516-1556) re­built por­tions in the mod­ern style of the pe­ri­od, and de­stroyed the greater part of the win­ter palace to make room for a mod­ern struc­ture which has nev­er been com­plet­ed. Philip V. (1700-1746) Ital­ianised the rooms, and com­plet­ed the degra­da­tion by run­ning up par­ti­tions which blocked up whole apart­ments, gems of taste and pa­tient in­ge­nu­ity. In sub­se­quent Cen­turies the care­less­ness of the Span­ish au­thor­ities per­mit­ted this mas­ter­piece of Moor­ish art to be still fur­ther de­faced; and in 1812 some of the tow­ers were blown up by the French un­der Count Se­bas­tiani, while the whole build­ings nar­row­ly es­caped the same fate. In

Plan of the Al­ham­bra Scale of Yards 1. Court of Myr­tles 2. Hall of Am­bas­sadors 3. Court of Li­ons 4. Hall of the Abencer­rages 5. Room of the Two Sis­ters 6. Mod­ern En­trance 7. Court of the Vestibule 8. Baths 9. Court of the Coun­cil Cham­ber 10. Queens Rob­ing Room

from Baedek­er’s Spain & Por­tu­gal, by per­mis­sion of Karl Baedek­er Emery Walk­er SC.

1821 an earth­quake caused fur­ther dam­age. The work of restora­tion un­der­tak­en in 1828 by the ar­chi­tect Jose Con­tr­eras was en­dowed in 1830 by Fer­di­nand VII.; and af­ter the death of Con­tr­eras in 1847, it was con­tin­ued with fair suc­cess by his son Rafael (d. 1890), and his grand­son Mar­iano.

The sit­ua­tion of the Al­ham­bra is one of rare nat­ural beau­ty; the plateau com­mands a wide view of the city and plain of Grana­da, to­wards the west and north, and of the heights of the Sier­ra Neva­da, to­wards the east and south. Moor­ish po­ets de­scribe it as “a pearl set in emer­alds,” in al­lu­sion to the bril­liant colour of its build­ings, and the lux­uri­ant woods round them. The park (Alame­da de la Al­ham­bra), which in spring is over­grown with wild-​flow­ers and grass, was plant­ed by the Moors with ros­es, or­anges and myr­tles; its most char­ac­ter­is­tic fea­ture, how­ev­er, is the dense wood of En­glish elms brought hith­er in 1812 by the duke of Welling­ton. The park is cel­ebrat­ed for the mul­ti­tude of its nightin­gales, and is usu­al­ly filled with the sound of run­ning wa­ter from sev­er­al foun­tains and cas­cades. These are sup­plied through a con­duit 5 m. long, which is con­nect­ed with the Dar­ro at the monastery of Je­sus del Valle, above Grana­da.

The Moor­ish por­tion of the Al­ham­bra re­sem­bles many me­dieval Chris­tian strongholds in its three­fold ar­range­ment as a cas­tle, a palace and a res­iden­tial an­nexe for sub­or­di­nates. The Al­caz­aba or citadel, its old­est part, is built on the iso­lat­ed and pre­cip­itous fore­land which ter­mi­nates the plateau on the north-​west. On­ly its mas­sive out­er walls, tow­ers and ram­parts are left. On its watch-​tow­er, the Torre de la Vela, 85 ft. high, the flag of Fer­di­nand and Is­abel­la was first raised, in to­ken of the Span­ish con­quest of Grana­da, on the 2nd of Jan­uary 1492. A tur­ret con­tain­ing a huge bell was added in the 18th cen­tu­ry, and re­stored af­ter be­ing in­jured by light­ning in 1881. Be­yond the Al­caz­aba is the palace of the Moor­ish kings, or Al­ham­bra prop­er­ly so-​called; and be­yond this, again, is the Al­ham­bra Al­ta (Up­per Al­ham­bra), orig­inal­ly ten­ant­ed by of­fi­cials and courtiers.

In spite of the long ne­glect, wil­ful van­dal­ism and ill-​judged restora­tion which the Al­ham­bra has en­dured, it re­mains the most per­fect ex­am­ple of Moor­ish art in its fi­nal Eu­ro­pean de­vel­op­ment, –freed from the di­rect Byzan­tine in­flu­ences which can be traced in the cathe­dral of Cor­do­va, more elab­orate and fan­tas­tic than the Gi­ral­da at Seville. The ma­jor­ity of the palace build­ings are, in ground-​plan, quad­ran­gu­lar, with all the rooms open­ing on to a cen­tral court; and the whole reached its present size sim­ply by the grad­ual ad­di­tion of new quad­ran­gles, de­signed on the same prin­ci­ple, though vary­ing in di­men­sions, and con­nect­ed with each oth­er by small­er rooms and pas­sages. In ev­ery case the ex­te­ri­or is left plain and aus­tere, as if the ar­chi­tect in­tend­ed thus to height­en by con­trast the splen­dour of the in­te­ri­or. With­in, the palace is un­sur­passed for the exquisite de­tail of its mar­ble pil­lars and arch­es, its fret­ted ceil­ings and the veil-​like trans­paren­cy of its fil­igree work in stuc­co. Sun and wind are freely ad­mit­ted, and the whole ef­fect is one of the most airy light­ness and grace. Blue, red, and a gold­en yel­low, all some­what fad­ed through lapse of time and ex­po­sure, are the colours chiefly em­ployed. The dec­ora­tion con­sists, as a rule, of stiff, con­ven­tion­al fo­liage, Ara­bic in­scrip­tions, and ge­omet­ri­cal pat­terns wrought in­to arabesques of al­most in­cred­ible in­tri­ca­cy and in­ge­nu­ity. Paint­ed tiles are large­ly used as pan­elling for the walls.

Ac­cess from the city to the Al­ham­bra Park is af­ford­ed by the Puer­ta de las Granadas (Gate of Pomegranates), a mas­sive tri­umphal arch dat­ing from the 15th cen­tu­ry. A steep as­cent leads past the Pil­lar of Charles V., a foun­tain erect­ed in 1554, to the main en­trance of the Al­ham­bra. This is the Puer­ta Ju­di­cia­ria (Gate of Judg­ment), a mas­sive horse­shoe arch­way, sur­mount­ed by a square tow­er, and used by the Moors as an in­for­mal court of jus­tice. A hand, with fin­gers out­stretched as a tal­is­man against the evil eye, is carved above this gate on the ex­te­ri­or; a key, the sym­bol of au­thor­ity, oc­cu­pies the cor­re­spond­ing place on the in­te­ri­or. A nar­row pas­sage leads in­ward to the Plaza de los Aljibes (Place of the Cis­terns), a broad open space which di­vides the Al­caz­aba from the Moor­ish palace. To the left of the pas­sage ris­es the Torre del Vi­no (Wine Tow­er), built in 1345, and used in the 16th cen­tu­ry as a cel­lar. On the right is the palace of Charles V., a cold-​look­ing but ma­jes­tic Re­nais­sance build­ing, out of har­mo­ny with its sur­round­ings, which it tends some­what to dwarf by its su­pe­ri­or size. Its con­struc­tion, be­gun in 1526, was aban­doned about 1650.

The present en­trance to the Pala­cio Arabe, or Casa Re­al (Moor­ish palace), is by a small door from which a cor­ri­dor con­ducts to the Pa­tio de los Ar­rayanes (Court of the Myr­tles), al­so called the Pa­tio de la Al­ber­ca (Court of the Bless­ing or Court of the Pond), from the Moor­ish bir­ka, “pond,” or berka, “bless­ing.” This court is 140 ft. long by 74 ft. broad; and in the cen­tre there is a large pond set in the mar­ble pave­ment, full of gold­fish, and with myr­tles grow­ing along its sides. There are gal­leries on the north and south sides; that on the south 27 ft. high, and sup­port­ed by a mar­ble colon­nade. Un­der­neath it, to the right, was the prin­ci­pal en­trance, and over it are three el­egant win­dows with arch­es and minia­ture pil­lars. From this court the walls of the Torre de Co­mares are seen ris­ing over the roof to the north, and re­flect­ed in the pond.

The Sala de los Am­ba­jadores (Hall of the Am­bas­sadors) is the largest in the Al­ham­bra, and oc­cu­pies all the Torre de Co­mares. It is a square room, the sides be­ing 37 ft. in length, while the cen­tre of the dome is 75 ft. high. This was the grand re­cep­tion room, and the throne of the sul­tan was placed op­po­site the en­trance. The tiles are near­ly 4 ft. high all round, and the colours vary at in­ter­vals. Over them is a se­ries of oval medal­lions with in­scrip­tions, in­ter­wo­ven with flow­ers and leaves. There are nine win­dows, three on each fa­cade, and the ceil­ing is ad­mirably di­ver­si­fied with in­laid-​work of white, blue and gold, in the shape of cir­cles, crowns and stars–a kind of im­ita­tion of the vault of heav­en. The walls are cov­ered with var­ied stuc­co-​work of most del­icate pat­tern, sur­round­ing many an­cient es­cutcheons.

The cel­ebrat­ed Pa­tio de los Leones (Court of the Li­ons) is an ob­long court, 116 ft. in length by 66 ft. in breadth, sur­round­ed by a low gallery sup­port­ed on 124 white mar­ble columns. A pavil­ion projects in­to the court at each ex­trem­ity, with fil­igree walls and light domed roof, elab­orate­ly or­na­ment­ed. The square is paved with coloured tiles, and the colon­nade with white mar­ble; while the walls are cov­ered 5 ft. up from the ground with blue and yel­low tiles, with a bor­der above and be­low enam­elled blue and gold. The columns sup­port­ing the roof and gallery are ir­reg­ular­ly placed, with a view to artis­tic ef­fect; and the gen­er­al form of the piers, arch­es and pil­lars is most grace­ful. They are adorned by va­ri­eties of fo­liage, &c.; about each arch there is a large square of arabesques; and over the pil­lars is an­oth­er square of exquisite fil­igree work. In the cen­tre of the court is the cel­ebrat­ed Foun­tain of Li­ons, a mag­nif­icent al­abaster basin sup­port­ed by the fig­ures of twelve li­ons in white mar­ble, not de­signed with sculp­tural ac­cu­ra­cy, but as em­blems of strength and courage.

The Sala de los Abencer­ra­jes (Hall of the Abencer­rages) de­rives its name from a leg­end ac­cord­ing to which Boab­dil, the last king of Grana­da, hav­ing in­vit­ed the chiefs of that il­lus­tri­ous line to a ban­quet, mas­sa­cred them here. This room is a per­fect square, with a lofty dome and trel­lised win­dows at its base. The roof is exquisite­ly dec­orat­ed in blue, brown, red and gold, and the columns sup­port­ing it spring out in­to the arch form in a re­mark­ably beau­ti­ful man­ner. Op­po­site to this hall is the Sala de las dos Her­manas (Hall of the two Sis­ters), so-​called from two very beau­ti­ful white mar­ble slabs laid as part of the pave­ment. These slabs mea­sure 15 ft. by 7 1/2 ft., and are with­out flaw or stain. There is a foun­tain in the mid­dle of this hall, and the roof–a dome hon­ey­combed with tiny cells, all dif­fer­ent, and said to num­ber 5000–is a mag­nif­icent ex­am­ple of the so-​called “sta­lac­tite vault­ing” of the Moors.

Among the oth­er won­ders of the Al­ham­bra are the Sala de la Jus­ti­cia (Hall of Jus­tice), the Pa­tio del Mex­uar (Court of the Coun­cil Cham­ber), the Pa­tio de Daraxa (Court of the Vestibule), and the Peinador de la Reina (Queen’s Rob­ing Room), in which are to be seen the same del­icate and beau­ti­ful ar­chi­tec­ture, the same cost­ly and el­egant dec­ora­tions. The palace and the Up­per Al­ham­bra al­so con­tain baths, ranges of bed­rooms and sum­mer- rooms, a whis­per­ing gallery and labyrinth, and vault­ed sepul­chres.

The orig­inal fur­ni­ture of the palace is rep­re­sent­ed by the cel­ebrat­ed vase of the Al­ham­bra, a splen­did spec­imen of Moor­ish ce­ram­ic art, dat­ing from 1320, and be­long­ing to the first pe­ri­od of Moor­ish porce­lain. It is 4 ft. 3 in. high; the ground is white, and the enam­elling is blue, white and gold.

Of the out­ly­ing build­ings in con­nex­ion with the Al­ham­bra. the fore­most in in­ter­est is the Pala­cio de Gen­er­al­ife or Gin­er­al­ife (the Moor­ish Jen­nat al Arif, “Gar­den of Arif,” or “Gar­den of the Ar­chi­tect”). This vil­la prob­ably dates from the end of the 13th cen­tu­ry, but has been sev­er­al times re­stored. Its gar­dens, how­ev­er, with their clipped hedges, grot­tos, foun­tains, and cy­press av­enues, are said to re­tain their orig­inal Moor­ish char­ac­ter. The Vil­la de los Mar­tires (Mar­tyrs’ Vil­la), on the sum­mit of Monte Mau­ror, com­mem­orates by its name the Chris­tian slaves who were em­ployed to build the Al­ham­bra, and con­fined here in sub­ter­ranean cells. The Tor­res Berme­jas (Ver­mil­ion Tow­ers), al­so on Monte Mau­ror, are a well-​pre­served Moor­ish for­ti­fi­ca­tion, with un­der­ground cis­terns, sta­bles, and ac­com­mo­da­tion for a gar­ri­son of 200 men. Sev­er­al Ro­man tombs were dis­cov­ered in 1829 and 1857 at the base of Monte Mau­ror.

See Plans, El­eva­tions, Sec­tions and De­tails of the Al­ham­bra; from draw­ings tak­en on the spot by J. Goury and Owen Jones; with a com­plete trans­la­tion of the Ara­bic in­scrip­tions and a his­tor­ical no­tice of the Kings of Grana­da, by P. de Gayan­gos. These two mag­nif­icent fo­lios, though first pub­lished in Lon­don be­tween 1842 and 1845, give the best pic­to­ri­al rep­re­sen­ta­tion of the Al­ham­bra. See al­so Rafael Con­tr­eras, La Al­hanabra, El Al­cazar, y la gran Mezqui­ta de Oc­ci­dente Madrid, 1885); The Al­ham­bra, by Wash­ing­ton Irv­ing, was writ­ten in 1832, and rewrit­ten in 1857, when it had al­ready be­come wide­ly cel­ebrat­ed for its pic­turesque and hu­mor­ous de­scrip­tions. A well-​Il­lus­trat­ed edi­tion was pub­lished in Lon­don in 1896.

AL­HAZEN (ABU ALI AL-​HASAN IBN AL­HASAN), Ara­bi­an math­emati­cian of the 11th cen­tu­ry, was born at Bas­ra and died at Cairo in 1038. He is to be dis­tin­guished from an­oth­er Al­hazen who trans­lat­ed Ptole­my’s Al­magest in the 10th cen­tu­ry. Hav­ing boast­ed that he could con­struct a ma­chine for reg­ulat­ing the in­un­da­tions of the Nile, he was sum­moned to Egypt by the caliph Hakim; but, aware of the im­prac­ti­ca­bil­ity of his scheme, and fear­ing the caliph’s anger, he feigned mad­ness un­til Hakim’s death in 1021. Al­hazen was, nev­er­the­less, a dili­gent and suc­cess­ful stu­dent, be­ing the first great dis­cov­er­er in op­tics af­ter the time of Ptole­my. Ac­cord­ing to Gio­van­ni Bat­tista del­la Por­ta, he first ex­plained the ap­par­ent in­crease of heav­en­ly bod­ies near the hori­zon, al­though Ba­con gives the cred­it of this dis­cov­ery to Ptole­my. He taught, pre­vi­ous to the Pol­ish physi­cist Wite­lo, that vi­sion does not re­sult from the emis­sion of rays from the eye, and wrote al­so on the re­frac­tion of light, es­pe­cial­ly on at­mo­spher­ic re­frac­tion, show­ing, e.g. the cause of morn­ing and evening twi­light. He solved the prob­lem of find­ing the point in a con­vex mir­ror at which a ray com­ing from one giv­en point shall be re­flect­ed to an­oth­er giv­en point. His trea­tise on op­tics was trans­lat­ed in­to Latin by Wite­lo (1270), and af­ter­wards pub­lished by F. Ris­ner in 1572, with the ti­tle Ot­icae the­saurus Al­hazeni lib­ri VII., cum ejus­dem li­bro de cre­pus­culis et nu­bi­um as­cen­sion­ibus. This work en­joyed a great rep­uta­tion dur­ing the mid­dle ages. Works on ge­omet­ri­cal sub­jects were found in the Bib­lio­theque na­tionale de Paris in 1834 by E. A. Sedil­lot; oth­er manuscripts are pre­served in the Bodleian li­brary at Ox­ford and in the li­brary of Lei­den.

See Casiri, Bibl. Arab. Hisp. Es­cur.; J. E. Mon­tu­cla, His­toire des math­emal­tiques (1758); and E. A. Sedil­lot, Ma­te­ri­aux pour l’his­toire des sci­ences math­ema­tiques.

ALI, in full, ‘ALI BEN ABU TAL­IB (c. 600-661), the fourth of the caliphs or suc­ces­sors of Ma­homet, was born at Mec­ca about the year A.D. 600. His fa­ther, Abu Tal­ib, was an un­cle of the prophet, and Ali him­self was adopt­ed by Ma­homet and ed­ucat­ed un­der his care. As a mere boy he dis­tin­guished him­self by be­ing one of the first to de­clare his ad­he­sion to the cause of Ma­homet, who some years af­ter­wards gave him his daugh­ter Fa­ti­ma in mar­riage. Ali proved him­self to be a brave and faith­ful sol­dier, and when Ma­homet died with­out male is­sue, a few em­igrants thought him to have the best claim to suc­ceed him. Abu Bekr, Omar and Oth­man, how­ev­er, oc­cu­pied this po­si­tion be­fore him, and it was not un­til 656, af­ter the mur­der of Oth­man, that he as­sumed the ti­tle of caliph. The fact that he took no steps to pre­vent this mur­der is, per­haps, the on­ly re­al blot up­on his char­ac­ter. Al­most the first act of his reign was the sup­pres­sion of a re­bel­lion un­der Tal­ha and Zobair, who were in­sti­gat­ed by Ayesha, Ma­homet’s wid­ow, a bit­ter en­emy of Ali, and one of the chief hin­drances to his ad­vance­ment to the caliphate. The rebel army was de­feat­ed at the “Bat­tle of the Camel,” near Bas­so­rah (Bas­ra), the two gen­er­als be­ing killed, and Ayesha tak­en pris­on­er. Ali soon af­ter­wards made Ku­fa his cap­ital. His next care was to get rid of the op­po­si­tion of Moawiya, who had es­tab­lished him­self in Syr­ia at the head of a nu­mer­ous army. A pro­longed bat­tle took place in Ju­ly 657 in the plain of Sif­fin (Suf­fein), near the Eu­phrates; the fight­ing was at first, it is said, in favour of Ali, when sud­den­ly a num­ber of the en­emy, fix­ing copies of the Ko­ran to the points of their spears, ex­claimed that “the mat­ter ought to be set­tled by ref­er­ence to this book, which for­bids Moslems to shed each oth­er’s blood.” The su­per­sti­tious sol­diers of Ali re­fused to fight any longer, and de­mand­ed that the is­sue be re­ferred to ar­bi­tra­tion (see fur­ther CALIPHATE, sec­tion B. 1). Abu Musa was ap­point­ed um­pire on the part of Ali, and `Amr-​ibn-​el-​Ass, a vet­er­an diplo­ma­tist, on the part of Moawiya. It is said that `Amr per­suad­ed Abu Musa that it would be for the ad­van­tage of Is­lam that nei­ther can­di­date should reign, and asked him to give his de­ci­sion first. Abu Musa hav­ing pro­claimed that he de­posed both Ali and Moawiya, `Amr de­clared that he al­so de­posed Ali, and an­nounced fur­ther that he in­vest­ed Moawiya with the caliphate. This treach­er­ous de­ci­sion (but see CALIPHATE, ib.) great­ly in­jured the cause of Ali, which was still fur­ther weak­ened by the loss of Egypt. Af­ter much in­de­ci­sive fight­ing, Ali found his po­si­tion so un­sat­is­fac­to­ry that ac­cord­ing to some his­to­ri­ans he made an agree­ment with Moawiya by which each re­tained his own do­min­ions un­mo­lest­ed. It chanced, how­ev­er–ac­cord­ing to a leg­end, the de­tails of which are quite un­cer­tain–that three of the fa­nat­ic sect of the Khar­ijites had made an agree­ment to as­sas­si­nate Ali, Moawiya and `Amr, as the au­thors of dis­as­trous feuds among the faith­ful. The on­ly vic­tim of this plot was Ali, who died at Ku­fa in 661, of the wound in­flict­ed by a poi­soned weapon. A splen­did mosque called Meshed Ali was af­ter­wards erect­ed near the city, but the place of his buri­al is un­known. He had eight wives af­ter Fa­ti­ma’s death, and in all, it is said, thir­ty-​three chil­dren, one of whom, Has­san, a son of Fa­ti­ma, suc­ceed­ed him in the caliphate. His de­scen­dants by Fa­ti­ma are known as the Fa­timites (q.v.; see al­so EGYPT: His­to­ry, Ma­hommedan pe­ri­od). The ques­tion of Ali’s right to suc­ceed to the caliphate is an ar­ti­cle of faith which di­vid­ed the Ma­hommedan world in­to two great sects, the Sun­nites and the Shi­ites, the for­mer deny­ing, and the lat­ter af­firm­ing, his right. The Turks, con­se­quent­ly, hold his mem­ory in ab­hor­rence; where­as the Per­sians, who are gen­er­al­ly Shi`as, ven­er­ate him as sec­ond on­ly to the prophet, call him the “Li­on of God” (Sher-​i-​Khu­da), and cel­ebrate the an­niver­sary of his mar­tyr­dom. Ali is de­scribed as a bold, no­ble and gen­er­ous man, “the last and wor­thi­est of the prim­itive Moslems, who im­bibed his re­li­gious en­thu­si­asm from com­pan­ion­ship with the prophet him­self, and who fol­lowed to the last the sim­plic­ity of his ex­am­ple.” It is main­tained, on the oth­er hand, that his mo­tives were through­out those of am­bi­tion rather than piety, and that, apart from the tragedy of his death, he would have been an in­signif­icant fig­ure in his­to­ry. (See fur­ther CALIPHATE.)

In the eyes of the lat­er Moslems he was re­mark­able for learn­ing and wis­dom, and there are ex­tant col­lec­tions (al­most all cer­tain­ly spu­ri­ous) of proverbs and vers­es which bear his name: the Sen­tences of Ali (Eng. trans., William Yule, Ed­in­burgh, 1832); H. L. Fleis­ch­er, Alis hun­dert Spruche (Leipz. 1837); the Di­van, by G. Kuypert (Lei­den, 1745, and at Bu­lak, 1835); C. Brock­el­mann, Gesch. d. ara­bisch. Lit. (vol. i., Weimar, 1899).

ALI, known as ALI BEY (1766-1818), the as­sumed name of DOMIN­GO BA­DIA Y LEBLICH, a Span­ish trav­eller, born in 1766. Af­ter re­ceiv­ing a lib­er­al ed­uca­tion he de­vot­ed par­tic­ular at­ten­tion to the Ara­bic lan­guage, and made a spe­cial study of the man­ners and cus­toms of the East. Pre­tend­ing to be a de­scen­dant of the Ab­basids, Ba­dia in 1803 set out on his trav­els. Un­der the name of Ali Bey el Ab­bassi, and in Mus­sul­man cos­tume, he vis­it­ed Mo­roc­co, Tripoli, Egypt, Ara­bia and Syr­ia, and was re­ceived as a per­son of high rank wher­ev­er he ap­peared. He made the pil­grim­age to Mec­ca, at that time in the pos­ses­sion of the Wa­habites. On his re­turn to Spain in 1807 he de­clared him­self a Bona­partist, and was made in­ten­dant first of Segovia and af­ter­wards of Cor­do­va. When the French were driv­en from Spain, Ba­dia was com­pelled to take refuge in France, and there in 1814, pub­lished an ac­count of his trav­els un­der the ti­tle of Voy­age d’Aii Bey en Asie et en Afrique, &c. A few years lat­er he set out again for Syr­ia, un­der the as­sumed name of Ali Oth­man, and, it is said, ac­cred­it­ed as a po­lit­ical agent by the French gov­ern­ment. He reached Alep­po, and there died on the 30th of Au­gust 1818, not with­out sus­pi­cion of hav­ing been poi­soned.

An ac­count of his East­ern ad­ven­tures was pub­lished in Lon­don in 1816, in two vol­umes, en­ti­tled Trav­els in Mo­roc­co, Tripoli, Cyprus, Egypt, Ara­bia, Syr­ia and Turkey, be­tween the years 1803 and 1807.

ALI, known as ALI PASHA (1741-1822),Turk­ish pasha of Ian­ni­na, sur­named Ar­slan, “the Li­on,” was born at Te­pe­leni, a vil­lage in Al­ba­nia at the foot of the Klis­sura moun­tains. He was one of the Toske tribe, and his an­ces­tors had for some time held the hered­itary of­fice of bey of Te­pe­leni. His fa­ther, a man of mild and peace­ful dis­po­si­tion, was killed when Ali was four­teen years old by neigh­bour­ing chiefs who seized his ter­ri­to­ries. His moth­er Khamko, a wom­an of ex­traor­di­nary char­ac­ter, there­upon her­self formed and led a brig­and band, and stud­ied to in­spire the boy with her own fierce and in­domitable tem­per, with a view to re­venge and the re­cov­ery of the lost prop­er­ty. In this wild school Ali proved an apt pupil. A hun­dred tales, for the most part prob­ably myth­ical, are told of his pow­ers and cun­ning dur­ing the years he spent among the moun­tains as a brig­and lead­er. At last, by a pic­turesque stratagem, he gained pos­ses­sion of Te­pe­leni and took vengeance on his en­emies. To se­cure him­self from ri­vals in his own fam­ily, he is said to have mur­dered his broth­er and im­pris­oned his moth­er on a charge of at­tempt­ing to poi­son him. With a view to es­tab­lish­ing his au­thor­ity he now made over­tures to the Porte and was com­mis­sioned to chas­tise the re­bel­lious pasha of Scu­tari, whom he de­feat­ed and killed. He al­so, on pre­text of his dis­loy­al­ty, put to death Se­lim, pasha of Delvi­non. Ali was now con­firmed in the pos­ses­sion of all his fa­ther’s ter­ri­to­ry and was al­so ap­point­ed lieu­tenant to the der­wend-​pasha of Rumelia, whose du­ty it was to sup­press brig­andage and high­way rob­bery. This gave him an op­por­tu­ni­ty for amass­ing wealth by shar­ing the booty of the rob­bers in re­turn for leav­ing them alone. The dis­grace that fell in con­se­quence on his su­pe­ri­or, Ali es­caped by the use of lav­ish bribes at Con­stantino­ple. In 1787 he took part in the war with Rus­sia, and was re­ward­ed by be­ing made pasha of Trikala in Thes­saly and der­wend-​pasha of Rumelia. It now suit­ed his pol­icy to sup­press the brig­ands, which he did by en­list­ing most of them un­der his own ban­ner. His pow­er was now al­ready con­sid­er­able; and in 1788 he added to it by se­cur­ing his nom­ina­tion to the pasha­lik of Ian­ni­na by a char­ac­ter­is­tic trick.

The il­lit­er­ate brig­and, whose boy­ish am­bi­tion had not looked be­yond the re­cov­ery of his fa­ther’s beylick, was now es­tab­lished as one of the most pow­er­ful viziers un­der the Ot­toman gov­ern­ment. Suc­cess on­ly stim­ulat­ed his in­sa­tiable am­bi­tion. He earned the con­fi­dence of the Porte by the cru­el dis­ci­pline he main­tained in his own san­jak, and the reg­ular flow of trib­ute and bribes which he di­rect­ed to Con­stantino­ple; while he bent all his en­er­gies to ex­tend­ing his ter­ri­to­ries at the ex­pense of his neigh­bours. The meth­ods he adopt­ed would have done cred­it to Ce­sare Bor­gia; they may be stud­ied in de­tail in the lurid pages of Pouqueville. Soon, by one means or an­oth­er, his pow­er was supreme in all cen­tral Al­ba­nia. Two main bar­ri­ers still ob­struct­ed the re­al­iza­tion of his am­bi­tion, which now em­braced Greece and Thes­saly, as well as Al­ba­nia, and the es­tab­lish­ment in the Mediter­ranean of a sea-​pow­er which should ri­val that of the dey of Al­giers. The first of these was the re­sis­tance of the lit­tle Chris­tian hill com­mu­ni­ty of Suli; the sec­ond the Vene­tian oc­cu­pa­tion of the coast, with­in a mile of which–by con­ven­tion with the Porte–no Ot­toman sol­dier might pen­etrate. It need­ed three sev­er­al at­tacks be­fore, in 1803, Ali con­quered the Suliot stronghold. Events in west­ern Eu­rope gave him an ear­li­er op­por­tu­ni­ty of be­com­ing mas­ter of most of the coast towns. Ali had watched with in­ter­est the ca­reer of Bona­parte in Italy, and the treaty of Cam­po Formio (1797), which blot­ted the Vene­tian re­pub­lic from the map of Eu­rope, gave him the op­por­tu­ni­ty he de­sired. In re­sponse to his ad­vances com­mis­saries of the French re­pub­lic vis­it­ed him at Ian­ni­na and, af­fect­ing a sud­den zeal for re­pub­li­can prin­ci­ples, he eas­ily ob­tained per­mis­sion to sup­press the “aris­to­crat­ic” tribes on the coast. His plans in Al­ba­nia were in­ter­rupt­ed by the war against Pas­van Oglu, the re­bel­lious pasha of Wid­din, in which Ali once more did good ser­vice. Mean­while in­ter­na­tion­al pol­itics had de­vel­oped in a way that ne­ces­si­tat­ed a change in Ali’s at­ti­tude. Napoleon’s oc­cu­pa­tion of the Io­ni­an Is­lands and his re­la­tions with Ali had alarmed Rus­sia, which feared that French in­flu­ence would be sub­sti­tut­ed for her own in the Balkan penin­su­la; and on the 5th of Septem­ber 1798 a for­mal al­liance, to which Great Britain soon af­ter ac­ced­ed, was signed on be­half of the em­per­or Paul and the sul­tan. Once more Ali turned Turk and fought against his re­cent friends with such suc­cess that in the end he re­mained in pos­ses­sion of Butrin­to, Pre­vesa and Vonitza on the coast, was cre­at­ed pasha “of three tails” by the sul­tan, and re­ceived the con­grat­ula­tions of Nel­son. But the cam­paign of Auster­litz fol­lowed, then the peace of Press­burg which guar­an­teed to Napoleon the for­mer do­min­ions of Venice, and fi­nal­ly the treaty of Tilsit, which in­volved, among oth­er things, the with­draw­al of the Rus­sians from the Io­ni­an Is­lands and the Al­ba­ni­an coast.

Amid all the mo­men­tous changes the part of Ali was a dif­fi­cult one. He had, more­over, to con­tend with do­mes­tic en­emies, and with dif­fi­cul­ty de­feat­ed a league formed against him by some Mus­sul­man tribes, un­der Ibrahim of Be­rat and Mustapha of Delvi­non, and the Suliots. He knew, how­ev­er, how to re­tain the con­fi­dence of the sul­tan, who not on­ly con­firmed him in the pos­ses­sion of the whole of Al­ba­nia from Epirus to Mon­tene­gro, but even in 1799 ap­point­ed him vali of Rumelia, an of­fice which he held just long enough to en­able him to re­turn to Ian­ni­na laden with the spoils of Thes­saly. He was now at the height of his pow­er. In 1803 the Suliot stronghold fell; and he was undis­put­ed mas­ter of Epirus, Al­ba­nia and Thes­saly, while the pasha­lik of the Morea was held by his son Veli, and that of Lep­an­to by his son Mukhtar. On­ly the lit­tle town of Par­ga held out against him on the coast; and in or­der to ob­tain this he once more in 1807 en­tered in­to an al­liance with Napoleon. The French em­per­or, how­ev­er, pre­ferred to keep Par­ga, as a con­ve­nient gate in­to the Balkan penin­su­la, and it re­mained in French oc­cu­pa­tion un­til March 1814, when the Par­giots rose against the gar­ri­son and hand­ed the fortress over to the British to save it from falling in­to the hands of Ali, who had bought the town from the French com­man­der, Co­zi Niko­lo, and was close­ly in­vest­ing it. The cor­dial re­la­tions be­tween Napoleon and the pasha of Ian­ni­na had not long con­tin­ued. Ali was an­gered by the re­fusal to sur­ren­der Par­ga and just­ly sus­pi­cious of the am­bi­tions which this re­fusal im­plied; he could not feel him­self se­cure with the Io­ni­an Is­lands and the Dal­ma­tian coast in the hands of a pow­er whose plans in the East were no­to­ri­ous, and he was glad enough to avail him­self of Napoleon’s re­vers­es in 1812 to help to rid him­self of so dan­ger­ous a neigh­bor. His ser­vices to the al­lies re­ceived their re­ward. Still bent on ob­tain­ing Par­ga, he sent a spe­cial mis­sion to Lon­don, backed by a let­ter from Sir Robert Lis­ton, the British am­bas­sador at Con­stantino­ple, call­ing the at­ten­tion of the gov­ern­ment to the pasha’s su­perem­inent qual­ities” and his ser­vices against the French. Af­ter some hes­ita­tion it was de­cid­ed to evac­uate Par­ga and hand it over to the Ot­toman gov­ern­ment, i.e. Ali Pasha. The con­ven­tion by which this was ef­fect­ed was ul­ti­mate­ly signed on the 17th of May 1817, be­ing rat­ified by the sul­tan on the 24th of April 1819. By its terms the Par­giots were to re­ceive an asy­lum in the is­lands, the Ot­toman gov­ern­ment un­der­tak­ing to pay com­pen­sa­tion for their prop­er­ty. Ali had no dif­fi­cul­ty in find­ing the mon­ey; the gar­ri­son, as soon as it was re­ceived, marched out with the bulk of the in­hab­itants; and the last citadel of free­dom in the Balka­ns fell to the tyrant of Ian­ni­na.1

Ali’s au­thor­ity in the great part of the penin­su­la sub­ject to him now over­shad­owed that of the sul­tan; and Mah­mud II., whose whole pol­icy had been di­rect­ed to de­stroy­ing the over­grown pow­er of the provin­cial pashas, be­gan to seek a pre­text for over­throw­ing the Li­on of Ian­ni­na, whose all-​de­vour­ing am­bi­tion seemed to threat­en his own throne. The oc­ca­sion came in 1820 when Ali, em­bold­ened by im­puni­ty, vi­olat­ed the sanc­ti­ty of Stam­boul it­self by at­tempt­ing to pro­cure the mur­der of his en­emy Pa­cho Bey in the very precincts of the palace. A de­cree of dis­po­si­tion was now is­sued against the sac­ri­le­gious vali, who had dared “to fire shots in Con­stantino­ple, the res­idence of the caliph, and the cen­tre of se­cu­ri­ty.” Its ex­ecu­tion was en­trust­ed to Khur­shid Pasha, with the bulk of the Ot­toman forces.

For two years Ali, now over eighty years of age, held his own, in spite of the de­fec­tion of his vas­sals and even of his sons. At last, in the spring of 1822, af­ter a pro­longed siege in his is­land fortress at Ian­ni­na, which even the out­break of the Greek re­volt had not served to raise, the in­trepid old man was forced to sue for terms. He asked and re­ceived an in­ter­view with Khur­shid, was re­ceived cour­te­ous­ly and dis­missed with the most friend­ly as­sur­ances. As he turned to leave the grand vizier’s tent he was stabbed in the back; his head was cut off and sent to Con­stantino­ple. Notwith­stand­ing their trea­son to their fa­ther, his sons met with the same fate.

In spite of the fe­ro­cious char­ac­ter­is­tics which have been sug­gest­ed in the above sketch, Ali Pasha is un­doubt­ed­ly one of the most re­mark­able, as he is one of the most pic­turesque, fig­ures in mod­ern his­to­ry; and as such he was rec­og­nized in his own day. His court at Ian­ni­na was the cen­tre of a sort of bar­barous cul­ture, in which as­trologers, al­chemists and Greek po­ets played their part, and was of­ten vis­it­ed by trav­ellers. Amongst oth­ers, By­ron came, and has left a record of his im­pres­sions in “Childe Harold’s Pil­grim­age,” less in­ter­est­ing and vivid than the prose ac­counts of Pouqueville, T. S. Hugh­es and William M. Leake. Leake (iii. 259) re­ports a re­proof ad­dressed by Ali to the French rene­gade Ibrahim Ef­fen­di, who had ven­tured to re­mon­strate against some par­tic­ular act of fe­roc­ity: “At present you are too young at my court to know how to com­port your­self. . . . You are not yet ac­quaint­ed with the Greeks and Al­ba­ni­ans: when I hang up one of these wretch­es on the plane-​tree, broth­er robs broth­er un­der the very branch­es: if I burn one of them alive, the son is ready to steal his fa­ther’s ash­es to sell them for mon­ey. They are des­tined to be ruled by me; and no one but Ali is able to re­strain their evil propen­si­ties.” This is per­haps as good an apol­ogy as could be made for his char­ac­ter and meth­ods. To the wild peo­ple over whom he ruled none was need­ed. He had their re­spect, if not their love; he is the hero of a thou­sand bal­lads; and his por­trait still hangs among the ikons in the cot­tages of the Greek moun­taineers. All ac­counts agree in de­scrib­ing him in lat­er life as a man of hand­some pres­ence, with a ven­er­able white beard, pierc­ing black eyes and a benev­olent cast of coun­te­nance, the ef­fect of which was height­ened in con­ver­sa­tion by a voice of sin­gu­lar sweet­ness.

AU­THOR­ITIES.–Apart from the scat­tered ref­er­ences in the pub­lished and un­pub­lished diplo­mat­ic cor­re­spon­dence of the pe­ri­od, con­tem­po­rary jour­nals and books of trav­el con­tain much in­ter­est­ing ma­te­ri­al for the life of Ali. Of these may es­pe­cial­ly be men­tioned Fran­cois C. H. L. Pouqueville, Voy­age en Moree, a Con­stantino­ple, en Al­ban­ie, &c. (3 vols., Paris, 1805), of which an En­glish ver­sion by A. Plumptre was pub­lished in 1815; ib. Voy­age dans la Grece (5 vols., Paris, 1820, 1821). Pouqueville, who spent some time as French res­ident at Ian­ni­na, had spe­cial fa­cil­ities for ob­tain­ing first­hand in­for­ma­tion, though his emo­tion­al­ism makes his ob­ser­va­tions and de­duc­tions at times some­what sus­pect. Very in­ter­est­ing al­so are Thomas Smart Hugh­es, Trav­els in Greece and Al­ba­nia (2 vols., 2nd ed., Lond. 1830); John Cam Hob­house (Lord Broughton), A Jour­ney through Al­ba­nia, &c. . . . dur­ing the years 1809 and 1810 (Lond., 4to, 1813, a new ed., 2 vols., 1855); William Mar­tin Leake, Trav­els in North­ern Greece (4 vols., Lond. 1845). See al­so Pouqueville’s Hist. de la re­gen­er­ation de la Grece, 1740-1824 (4 vols., Paris, 1824, 3rd ed., Brus­sels, 1825); R. A. Dav­en­port, Life of Ali Pasha, vizier of Epirus (1861). (W. A. P.)

1 In his re­port on the Io­ni­an Treaty pre­sent­ed to Lord Castlereagh at the congress of Vi­en­na in De­cem­ber 1814, Sir Richard Church strong­ly ad­vo­cat­ed, not on­ly the re­ten­tion of Par­ga, but that Vonitza, Pre­vesa and Butrin­to al­so should be tak­en from Ali Pasha and placed un­der British pro­tec­tion, a mea­sure he con­sid­ered nec­es­sary. for the safe­ty of the Io­ni­an Is­lands. “Ali Pasha,” he wrote, “is now busy build­ing forts along his coast and strength­en­ing his cas­tles in the in­te­ri­or. In Jan­uary 1814 he had 14,000 peas­ants at work on the cas­tle of Ar­giro Cas­tro, and about 1500 erect­ing a fort at Por­to Paler­mo, near­ly op­po­site Cor­fu.” In 1810 he had erect­ed a fort di­rect­ly op­po­site San­ta Mau­ra com­mand­ing the har­bour.

The fate of Par­ga cre­at­ed in­tense feel­ing at the time in Eng­land, and was cit­ed by Lib­er­als as a crown­ing in­stance of the per­fidy of the gov­ern­ment and of Castlereagh’s sub­servience to re­ac­tionary ten­den­cies abroad. The step, how­ev­er, was not light­ly tak­en. In oc­cu­py­ing the town the British gen­er­al had ex­press­ly re­frained from pledg­ing Great Britain to re­main there; and the gov­ern­ment held that any per­ma­nent oc­cu­pa­tion of a post on the main­land car­ried with it risks of com­pli­ca­tions out of all pro­por­tion to any pos­si­ble ben­efit.

ALIA­GA, a town of the province of Nue­va Eci­ja, Lu­zon, Philip­pine Is­lands, about 70 m. N. by W. of Mani­la. Pop. (1903) 11,950. It has a com­par­ative­ly cool and health­ful cli­mate, and is pleas­ant­ly sit­uat­ed about mid­way be­tween the Pam­pan­ga Grande and the Pam­pan­ga Chico rivers, and in a large and fer­tile val­ley of which the prin­ci­pal prod­ucts are In­di­an corn, rice, sug­ar and to­bac­co. Taga­log is the most im­por­tant lan­guage; Ilo­cano, Pam­pan­go and Pan­gasi­nan are al­so used.

ALIAS (Lat. for “at an­oth­er time”), a term used to con­nect the dif­fer­ent names of a per­son who has passed un­der more than one, in or­der to con­ceal his iden­ti­ty, or for oth­er rea­sons; or, com­pen­dious­ly, to de­scribe the adopt­ed name. The ex­pres­sion alias dic­tus was for­mer­ly used in le­gal in­dict­ments, and plead­ings where ab­so­lute pre­ci­sion was nec­es­sary in iden­ti­fy­ing the per­son to be charged, as “John Jones, alias dic­tus James Smith.” The adop­tion of a name oth­er than a man’s bap­tismal or sur­name need not nec­es­sar­ily be for the pur­pose of de­cep­tion or fraud; pseudonyms or nick­names fall thus un­der the de­scrip­tion of an alias. Where a per­son is mar­ried un­der an alias, the mar­riage is void when both par­ties have know­ing­ly and wil­ful­ly con­nived at the adop­tion of the alias, with a fraud­ulent in­ten­tion. But if one of the par­ties to a mar­riage has ac­quired a new name by use and rep­uta­tion, or if the true name of any one of the par­ties is not known to the oth­er, the use of an alias in these cas­es will not af­fect the va­lid­ity of the mar­riage.

AL­IBI (Lat. for “else­where”), in law, the de­fence re­sort­ed to in crim­inal pros­ecu­tions, where the per­son charged al­leges that he was so far dis­tant at the time from the place where the crime was com­mit­ted that he could not have been guilty. An al­ibi, if sub­stan­ti­at­ed, is the most con­clu­sive proof of in­no­cence.

AL­ICANTE, a province of south-​east­ern Spain; bound­ed on the N. by Va­len­cia, W. by Al­bacete and Mur­cia, S. by Mur­cia, and S.E. and E. by the Mediter­ranean Sea. Pop. (1900) 470,149; area, 2096 sq. m. Al­icante was formed in 1833 of dis­tricts tak­en from the an­cient provinces of Va­len­cia and Mur­cia, Va­len­cia con­tribut­ing by far the larg­er por­tion. The sur­face of the province is ex­treme­ly di­ver­si­fied. In the north and west there are ex­ten­sive moun­tain ranges of cal­care­ous for­ma­tion, in­ter­sect­ed by deep ravines; while far­ther south the land is more lev­el, and there are many fer­tile val­leys. On the Mediter­ranean coast, un­healthy salt marsh­es al­ter­nate with rich plains of pleas­ant and pro­duc­tive huer­tas or gar­dens, such as those of Al­icante and De­nia. Apart from Se­gu­ra, which flows from the high­lands of Al­bacete through Mur­cia and Ori­huela to the sea, there is no con­sid­er­able riv­er, but a few rivulets flow east in­to the Mediter­ranean. The cli­mate is tem­per­ate, and the rain­fall very slight. De­spite the want of rivers and of rain, agri­cul­ture is in a flour­ish­ing con­di­tion. Many tracts, orig­inal­ly rocky and ster­ile, have been ir­ri­gat­ed and con­vert­ed in­to vine­yards and plan­ta­tions. Ce­re­als are grown, but the in­hab­itants pre­fer to raise such ar­ti­cles of pro­duce as are in de­mand for ex­port, and con­se­quent­ly part of the grain sup­ply has to be im­port­ed. Es­par­to grass, rice, olives, the sug­ar-​cane, and trop­ical fruits and veg­eta­bles are large­ly pro­duced. Great at­ten­tion is giv­en to the rear­ing of bees and silk-​worms; and the wine of the province is held in high re­pute through­out Spain, while some in­fe­ri­or kinds are sent to France to be mixed with claret. There are iron and lig­nite mines, but the out­put is small. Min­er­al springs are found at var­ious places. The man­ufac­tures con­sist of fine cloths, silk, cot­ton, woollen and linen fab­rics, gir­dles and lace, pa­per, hats, leather, earth­en­ware and soap. There are nu­mer­ous oil mills and brandy dis­til­leries. Many of the in­hab­itants are en­gaged in the car­ry­ing trade, while the fish­eries on the coast are al­so ac­tive­ly pros­ecut­ed, tun­ny and an­chovies be­ing caught in great num­bers. Bar­il­la is ob­tained from the sea-​weed on the shores, and some of the saline marsh­es, no­tably those near Tor­re­vie­ja, yield large sup­plies of salt. The prin­ci­pal towns, which are sep­arate­ly de­scribed, in­clude Al­icante, the cap­ital (pop. 1900, 50,142), Cre­vil­lente (10,726), De­nia (12,431), Elche (27,308), Nov­el­da (11,388), Ori­huela (28,530), and Vil­lena (14,099). Oth­er towns, of less im­por­tance, are Aspe (7927), Co­cen­taina (7093), Mono­var (10,601), Pinoso (7946), and Vil­la­joyosa (8902).

AL­ICANTE, the cap­ital of the Span­ish province de­scribed above, and one of the prin­ci­pal sea­ports of the coun­try. Pop. (1900) 50,142. It is sit­uat­ed in 38 deg. 21′ N. and 0 deg. 26′ W., on the Bay of Al­icante, an in­let of the Mediter­ranean Sea. It is the ter­mi­ni of rail­ways from Madrid and Mur­cia. From its har­bour, the town presents a strik­ing pic­ture. Along the shore ex­tends the Paseo de los Mar­tires, a dou­ble av­enue of palms; be­hind this, the white flat-​roofed hous­es rise in the form of a cres­cent to­wards the low hills which sur­round the city, and ter­mi­nate, on the right, in a bare rock, 400 ft. high, sur­mount­ed by an an­cient citadel. Its dry and equable cli­mate ren­ders Al­icante a pop­ular health-​re­sort. The city is an epis­co­pal see, and con­tains a mod­ern cathe­dral.

The bay af­fords good an­chor­age, but on­ly small ves­sels can come up to the two moles. The har­bour is for­ti­fied, and there is a small light­house on the east­ern mole; im­por­tant en­gi­neer­ing works, sub­si­dized by the state, were un­der­tak­en in 1902 to pro­vide bet­ter ac­co­mo­da­tion. In the same year 1737 ves­sels of 939,789 tons en­tered the port. The trade of Al­icante con­sists chiefly in the man­ufac­ture of cot­ton, linen and woollen goods, cigars and con­fec­tionery; the im­por­ta­tion of coal, iron, ma­chin­ery, ma­nures, tim­ber, oak staves and fish; and the ex­por­ta­tion of lead, fruit, farm pro­duce and red wines, which are sent to France for blend­ing with bet­ter vin­tages. Fine mar­ble is pro­cured in the is­land of Plana near the coast.

Al­icante was the Ro­man Lu­cen­tum; but, de­spite its an­tiq­ui­ty, it has few Ro­man or Moor­ish re­mains. In 718, it was oc­cu­pied by the Moors, who were on­ly ex­pelled in 1304, and made an un­suc­cess­ful at­tempt to re­cap­ture the city in 1331. Al­icante was be­sieged by the French in 1709, and by the Fed­er­al­ists of Carta­ge­na in 1873. For an ac­count of the events which led up to these two sieges, see SPAIN.,

For fur­ther de­tails of the lo­cal his­to­ry, see J. Pas­tor de la Ro­ca, His­to­ria gen­er­al de la ciu­dad y castil­lo de Al­icante, &c. (Al­icante, 1854); and the En­sayo bi­ografi­co bib­li­ografi­co de es­critores de Al­icante y de su provin­cia, by M. R. Gar­cia and A. Mon­tero y Perez (Al­icante, 1890).

AL­ICE MAUD MARY, GRAND-​DUCHESS OF HESSE-​DARM­STADT (1843-1878), sec­ond daugh­ter and third child of Queen Vic­to­ria, was born at Buck­ing­ham Palace, on the 25th of April 1843. A pret­ty, del­icate-​fea­tured child–“cheer­ful, mer­ry, full of fun and mis­chief,” as her el­der sis­ter de­scribed her–fond of gym­nas­tics, a good skater and an ex­cel­lent horse­wom­an, she was a gen­er­al favourite from her ear­li­est days. Her first years were passed with­out par­tic­ular in­ci­dent in the home cir­cle, where the train­ing of their chil­dren was a mat­ter of the great­est con­cern to the queen and the prince con­sort. Among oth­er things, the roy­al chil­dren were en­cour­aged to vis­it the poor, and the ef­fect of this train­ing was very no­tice­able in the lat­er life of Princess Al­ice. Af­ter the mar­riage of the Princess Roy­al in 1858, the new re­spon­si­bil­ities de­volv­ing up­on Princess Al­ice, as the el­dest daugh­ter at home, called forth the high­er traits of her char­ac­ter, and brought her in­to still clos­er re­la­tion­ship with her par­ents, and es­pe­cial­ly with her fa­ther. In the sum­mer of 1860, at Wind­sor Cas­tle, Princess Al­ice first met her fu­ture hus­band, Prince Louis of Hesse. An at­tach­ment quick­ly sprang up, and on the prince’s sec­ond vis­it in Novem­ber they were for­mal­ly en­gaged. In the fol­low­ing year, on the an­nounce­ment of the con­tem­plat­ed mar­riage, the House of Com­mons unan­imous­ly vot­ed a dowry of L. 30,000 and an an­nu­ity of L. 6000 to the princess. In De­cem­ber 1861, while prepa­ra­tions were be­ing made for the mar­riage, the prince con­sort was struck down with ty­phoid fever, and died on the 14th. Princess Al­ice nursed her fa­ther dur­ing his short ill­ness with the ut­most care, and af­ter his death de­vot­ed her­self to com­fort­ing her moth­er un­der this ter­ri­ble blow. Her mar­riage took place at Os­borne, on the 1st of Ju­ly 1862. The princess un­con­scious­ly wrote her own bi­og­ra­phy from this pe­ri­od in her con­stant let­ters to Queen Vic­to­ria, a se­lec­tion of which, edit­ed by Dr. Carl Sell, were al­lowed to be print­ed in 1883. These let­ters give a com­plete pic­ture of the dai­ly life of the duke and duchess, and they al­so show the in­tense love of the lat­ter for her hus­band, her moth­er and her na­tive land. She man­aged to vis­it Eng­land ev­ery year, and it was at her spe­cial re­quest that when she died her hus­band laid an En­glish flag up­on her cof­fin.

In the war be­tween Aus­tria and Prus­sia in 1866, Hesse- Darm­stadt was up­on the side of the Aus­tri­ans; Prince Louis ac­com­pa­nied his troops to the front, and was du­ly ap­point­ed by the grand-​duke to the com­mand of the Hes­sian di­vi­sion. This was a time of in­tense tri­al to the princess, whose hus­band and broth­er-​in-​law, the crown prince of Prus­sia, were nec­es­sar­ily fight­ing up­on op­po­site sides. The duke of Hesse al­so took part in the prin­ci­pal bat­tles of the Fran­co-​Prus­sian war, while the duchess was ac­tive­ly en­gaged in or­ga­niz­ing hos­pi­tals for the re­lief of the sick and wound­ed. The death of the duke’s fa­ther, Prince Charles of Hesse, on the 20th of March 1877, was fol­lowed by that of the grand-​duke on the 13th of June, and Prince Louis suc­ceed­ed to the throne as Grand Duke Louis IV. In the sum­mer of 1878 the grand-​duke and duchess, with their fam­ily, came again to Eng­land, and went to East­bourne, where the duchess re­mained for some time. She re­turned to Darm­stadt in the au­tumn, and on the 8th of Novem­ber 1878 her daugh­ter, Princess Vic­to­ria, was at­tacked by diph­the­ria. Three more of her chil­dren, as well as her hus­band, quick­ly caught the dis­ease, and the youngest, “May,” suc­cumbed on the 16th. On the 7th of De­cem­ber the princess was her­self at­tacked, and, be­ing weak­ened by nurs­ing and anx­iety, had not strength to re­sist the dis­ease, which proved fa­tal on the 14th of De­cem­ber, the sev­en­teenth an­niver­sary of her fa­ther’s death. She left one son and four daugh­ters. .

See Carl Sell, Al­ice: Mit­theilun­gen aus ihrem Leben und Briefen, &c. (Darm­stadt, 1883), with En­glish trans­la­tion by the Princess Chris­tian, Al­ice: bi­ograph­ical sketch and let­ters (1884). (G. F. B.)

AL­IDADE (from the Arab.), the mov­able in­dex of a grad­uat­ed arc, used in the mea­sure­ment of an­gles. The word is used al­so to des­ig­nate the sup­port­ing frame or arms car­ry­ing the mi­cro­scopes or verniers of a grad­uat­ed cir­cle.

ALIEN (Lat. alienus), the tech­ni­cal term ap­plied by British con­sti­tu­tion­al law to any­one who does not en­joy the char­ac­ter of a British sub­ject; in gen­er­al, a for­eign­er who for the pur­pos­es of any state comes in­to cer­tain do­mes­tic re­la­tions with it, oth­er than those ap­ply­ing to na­tive-​born or nat­ural­ized cit­izens, but owns al­le­giance to a for­eign sovereign.

En­glish law, save with the spe­cial ex­cep­tions men­tioned, ad­mits to the char­ac­ter of sub­jects all who are born with­in the king’s al­le­giance, that is, speak­ing gen­er­al­ly, with­in the British do­min­ions. In the cel­ebrat­ed ques­tion of the post-​nati in the reign of James I. of Eng­land, it was found, af­ter solemn tri­al, that na­tives of Scot­land born be­fore the union of the crowns were aliens in Eng­land, but that, since al­le­giance is to the per­son of the king, those born sub­se­quent­ly were En­glish sub­jects. A child born abroad, whose fa­ther or whose grand­fa­ther on the fa­ther’s side was a British sub­ject, may claim the same char­ac­ter un­less at the time of his birth his fa­ther was an at­taint­ed traitor, or in the ser­vice of a state en­gaged in war against the British em­pire (4th Geo. II. c. 21). Ow­ing to this ex­cep­tion­al pro­vi­sion some sons of Ja­co­bite refugees born abroad, who joined in the re­bel­lion of 1745, were ad­mit­ted to the priv­ilege of pris­on­ers of war.

It has been en­act­ed in the Unit­ed King­dom with re­gard to the na­tion­al sta­tus of wom­en and chil­dren that a mar­ried wom­an is to be deemed a sub­ject of the state of which her hus­band is for the time be­ing a sub­ject; that a nat­ural-​born British wom­an, hav­ing be­come an alien by mar­riage, and there­after be­ing a wid­ow, may be re­ha­bil­itat­ed un­der con­di­tions slight­ly more favourable than are re­quired for nat­ural­iza­tion; that where a fa­ther or a wid­ow be­comes an alien, the chil­dren in in­fan­cy be­com­ing res­ident in the coun­try where the par­ent is nat­ural­ized, and be­ing nat­ural­ized by the lo­cal law, are held to be sub­jects of that coun­try; that those of a fa­ther or of a wid­ow read­mit­ted to British na­tion­al­ity or who ob­tains a cer­tifi­cate of nat­ural­iza­tion, be­com­ing dur­ing in­fan­cy res­ident with such par­ent in the British do­min­ions in the for­mer case or in the Unit­ed King­dom in the lat­ter, be­come read­mit­ted or nat­ural­ized (Nat­ural­iza­tion Act 1870, s. 10). The na­tion­al­ity of chil­dren not cov­ered by these en­act­ments is not af­fect­ed by the change of their par­ents’ na­tion­al­ity. The same statute pro­vides that a dec­la­ra­tion of alien­age be­fore a jus­tice of peace or oth­er com­pe­tent judge, hav­ing the ef­fect of di­vest­ing the declarant of the char­ac­ter of a British sub­ject, may be made by a nat­ural­ized British sub­ject de­sir­ing to re­sume the na­tion­al­ity of the coun­try to which he orig­inal­ly be­longed, if there be a con­ven­tion to that ef­fect with that coun­try; by nat­ural-​born sub­jects who were al­so born sub­jects of an­oth­er state ac­cord­ing to its law; or by per­sons born abroad hav­ing British fa­thers.

Nat­ural­iza­tion, which means con­fer­ring the char­ac­ter of a sub­ject, may now, un­der the act of 1870, be ob­tained by ap­ply­ing to the home sec­re­tary and pro­duc­ing ev­idence of hav­ing resid­ed for not less than five years in the Unit­ed King­dom, or of hav­ing been in the ser­vice of the crown for not less than five years, and of in­ten­tion to re­side in the Unit­ed King­dom or serve un­der the crown. Such a cer­tifi­cate may be grant­ed by the sec­re­tary of state to one nat­ural­ized pre­vi­ous­ly to the pass­ing of the act, or to a British sub­ject as to whose na­tion­al­ity a doubt ex­ists, or to a statu­to­ry alien, i.e. one who has be­come an alien by dec­la­ra­tion in pur­suance of the act of 1870.

In the Unit­ed States the sep­arate state laws large­ly de­ter­mine the sta­tus of an alien, but sub­ject to Fed­er­al treaties. (For fur­ther par­tic­ulars see AL­LE­GIANCE and NAT­URAL­IZA­TION.)

Many of the dis­abil­ities to which aliens were sub­ject in the Unit­ed King­dom, ei­ther by the com­mon law or un­der var­ious acts of par­lia­ment, have been re­pealed by the Nat­ural­iza­tion Act 1870. It en­ables aliens to take, ac­quire, hold and dis­pose of re­al and per­son­al prop­er­ty of ev­ery de­scrip­tion, and to trans­mit a ti­tle to it, in all re­spects as nat­ural-​born British sub­jects. But the act ex­press­ly de­clares that this re­lax­ation of the law does not qual­ify aliens for any of­fice or any mu­nic­ipal, par­lia­men­tary or oth­er fran­chise, or con­fer any right of a British sub­ject oth­er than those above ex­pressed in re­gard to prop­er­ty, nor does it af­fect in­ter­ests vest­ed in pos­ses­sion or ex­pectan­cy un­der dis­po­si­tions made be­fore the act, or by de­vo­lu­tion of law on the death of any one dy­ing be­fore the act. A ship, any share in which is owned by an alien, shall not be deemed a British ship (Mer­chant Ship­ping Act 1894, s. i.) By the Ju­ries Act 1870, s. 8, aliens who have been domi­ciled for ten years in Eng­land or Wales, if in oth­er re­spects du­ly qual­ified, are li­able to serve on ju­ries or in­quests in Eng­land or Wales; and by the Nat­ural­iza­tion Act 1870, s. 5, the ahens’ old priv­ilege of be­ing tried by a ju­ry de me­di­etate lin­guae (that is, of which half were for­eign­ers), was abol­ished.

It seems to be a rule of gen­er­al pub­lic law that an alien can be sent out of the realm by ex­er­cise of the crown’s pre­rog­ative; but in mod­ern En­glish prac­tice, when­ev­er it seems nec­es­sary to ex­pel for­eign­ers (see EX­PUL­SION), a spe­cial act of par­lia­ment has to be ob­tained for the pur­pose, un­less the case falls with­in the ex­tra­di­tion acts or the Aliens Act 1905. The lat­ter pro­hibits the land­ing in the Unit­ed King­dom of un­de­sir­able alien steer­age pas­sen­gers, called in the act “im­mi­grants,” from ships car­ry­ing more than twen­ty alien steer­age pas­sen­gers, called in the act “im­mi­grant ships”; nor can alien im­mi­grants be land­ed ex­cept at cer­tain ports at which there is an “im­mi­grant of­fi­cer,” to whom pow­er of pro­hibit­ing the land­ing is giv­en, sub­ject to a right of ap­peal to the im­mi­gra­tion board of the port. The act con­tains a num­ber of qual­ifi­ca­tions, and among these em­pow­ers the sec­re­tary of state to ex­empt any im­mi­grant ship from its pro­vi­sions if he is sat­is­fied that a prop­er sys­tem is main­tained to pre­vent the im­mi­gra­tion of un­de­sir­able per­sons. The prin­ci­pal test of un­de­sir­able­ness is not hav­ing or be­ing in a po­si­tion to ob­tain the means of sup­port­ing one’s self and one’s de­pen­dents, or ap­pear­ing like­ly from dis­ease or in­fir­mi­ty to be­come a charge on the rates, pro­vid­ed that the im­mi­grant is not seek­ing to avoid pros­ecu­tion or pun­ish­ment on re­li­gious or po­lit­ical grounds, or per­se­cu­tion, in­volv­ing dan­ger of im­pris­on­ment or dan­ger to life or limb, on ac­count of re­li­gious be­lief. Lu­natics, id­iots, per­sons who from dis­ease or in­fir­mi­ty ap­pear like­ly to be­come a detri­ment to the pub­lic oth­er­wise than through the rates, and per­sons sen­tenced in a for­eign coun­try for crimes for which they could be sur­ren­dered to that coun­try, are al­so enu­mer­at­ed as un­de­sir­able. Pow­er is al­so giv­en to the sec­re­tary of state to ex­pel per­sons sen­tenced as just men­tioned, or, if rec­om­mend­ed by the court in which they have been con­vict­ed, per­sons con­vict­ed of felony or some of­fence for which the court has pow­er to im­pose im­pris­on­ment with­out the op­tion of a fine, or of cer­tain of­fences against the po­lice laws; and per­sons in re­ceipt of any such parochial re­lief as dis­qual­ifies for the par­lia­men­tary fran­chise, or wan­der­ing with­out os­ten­si­ble mean of sub­sis­tence, or liv­ing un­der in­san­itary con­di­tions due to over­crowd­ing. (JNO. W.)

ALIEN­ATION (from Lat. alienus, be­long­ing to an­oth­er), the act or fact of be­ing es­tranged, set apart or sep­arat­ed. In law the word is used for the act of trans­fer of prop­er­ty by vol­un­tary deed and not by in­her­itance. In re­gard to church prop­er­ty the word has come to mean, since the Ref­or­ma­tion, a trans­fer from re­li­gious to sec­ular own­er­ship. “Alien­ation” is al­so used to de­note a state of in­san­ity (q.v..)

ALIEN-​HOUS­ES, re­li­gious hous­es in Eng­land be­long­ing to for­eign ec­cle­si­as­tics, or un­der their con­trol. They gen­er­al­ly were built where prop­er­ty had been left by the donors to for­eign or­ders to pray for their souls. They were fre­quent­ly reg­ular “pri­or­ies,” but some­times on­ly “cells,” and even “granges,’, with small chapels at­tached. Some, par­tic­ular­ly in cities, seem to have been a sort of mis­sion-​hous­es. There were more than 100 in Eng­land. Many alien-​hous­es were sup­pressed by Hen­ry V. and the rest by Hen­ry VI­II.

ALIENIST (Lat. alienus, that which be­longs to an­oth­er, i.e. is ex­ter­nal to one’s self), one who spe­cial­izes in the study of men­tal dis­eases, which are of­ten in­clud­ed in the gener­ic name “Alien­ation.” (See IN­SAN­ITY.)

ALI­GARH, a city and dis­trict of British In­dia in the Meerut di­vi­sion of the Unit­ed Provinces. The city, al­so known as Koil, was a sta­tion on the East In­di­an rail­way, 876 m. from Cal­cut­ta. Sir Sayad Ah­mad Khan, K.C.S.I., who died in 1898, found­ed in 1864 the Ali­garh In­sti­tute and Sci­en­tif­ic So­ci­ety for the trans­la­tion in­to the ver­nac­ular of west­ern lit­er­ature; and af­ter­wards the Ma­hommedan An­glo-​Ori­en­tal Col­lege, un­der En­glish pro­fes­sors, with an En­glish school at­tached. The col­lege meets with strong sup­port from the en­light­ened por­tion of the Mus­sul­man com­mu­ni­ty, whose aim is to raise it to the sta­tus of a uni­ver­si­ty, with the pow­er of con­fer­ring de­grees. The pop­ula­tion (1901) 70,434, showed an in­crease of 14% in the decade. There are sev­er­al flour-​mills, cot­ton-​press­es and a dairy farm. Ali­garh Fort, sit­uat­ed on the Grand Trunk road, con­sists of a reg­ular poly­gon, sur­round­ed by a very broad and deep ditch. It be­came a fortress of great im­por­tance un­der Sind­hia in 1759, and was the de­pot where he drilled and or­ga­nized his bat­tal­ions in the Eu­ro­pean fash­ion with the aid of De Boigne. It was cap­tured from the Mahrtatas un­der the lead­er­ship of Per­ron, an­oth­er French of­fi­cer, by Lord Lake’s army, in Septem­ber 1803, since which time it has been much strength­ened and im­proved. In the re­bel­lion of 1857 the troops sta­tioned at Ali­garh mu­tinied, but ab­stained from mur­der­ing their of­fi­cers, who, with the oth­er res­idents and ladies and chil­dren, suc­ceed­ed in reach­ing Hathras.

The dis­trict of Ali­garh has an area of 1857 sq. m. It is near­ly a lev­el plain, but with a slight el­eva­tion in the cen­tre, be­tween the two great rivers the Ganges and Jum­na. The on­ly oth­er im­por­tant riv­er is the Kali Na­di, which tra­vers­es the en­tire length of the dis­trict from north-​east to south-​west. The dis­trict is tra­versed by sev­er­al rail­ways and al­so by the Ganges canal, which is nav­iga­ble. The chief trad­ing cen­tre is Hathras. In 1901 the pop­ula­tion was 1,200,822, show­ing an in­crease of 15% in the decade, due to the ex­ten­sion of ir­ri­ga­tion. There are sev­er­al fac­to­ries for gin­ning and press­ing cot­ton.

ALIGN­MENT (from Fr. a and ligne, the Lat. lin­ea, a line), a set­ting in line, gen­er­al­ly straight, or the way in which the line runs; an ex­pres­sion used in sur­vey­ing, draw­ing, and in mil­itary ar­range­ments, the align­ment of a reg­iment or a camp mean­ing the sit­ua­tion when drawn up in line or the rel­ative po­si­tion of the tents. The align­ment of a ri­fle has ref­er­ence to the way of get­ting the sights in­to line with the ob­ject, so as to aim cor­rect­ly.

AL­IMENT (from Lat. al­iment-​um, from alere to nour­ish), a syn­onym for “food,” lit­er­al­ly or metaphor­ical­ly. The word has al­so been used in the same le­gal sense as AL­IMO­NY (q.v..) Al­iment, in Scots law, is the sum paid or al­lowance giv­en in re­spect of the re­cip­ro­cal obli­ga­tion of par­ents and chil­dren, hus­band and wife, grand­par­ents and grand­chil­dren, to con­tribute to each oth­er’s main­te­nance. The term is al­so used in re­gard to a sim­ilar obli­ga­tion of oth­er par­ties, as of cred­itors to im­pris­oned debtors, the pay­ments by parish­es to pau­pers, &c. Al­imen­ta­ry funds, whether of the kind above men­tioned, or set apart as such by the deed of a tes­ta­tor, are in­tend­ed for the mere sup­port of the re­cip­ient, and are not at­tach­able by cred­itors.

AL­IMEN­TA­RY CANAL, in anato­my. The al­imen­ta­ry canal, strict­ly speak­ing, is the whole di­ges­tive tract from the mouth to the anus. From the one ori­fice to the oth­er the tube is some 25 to 30 ft. long, and the food, in its pas­sage, pass­es through the fol­low­ing parts one af­ter the oth­er:–mouth, phar­ynx, oe­soph­agus, stom­ach, small in­testines, cae­cum, large in­testines, rec­tum and anus. In­to this tube at var­ious points the sali­vary glands, liv­er and pan­creas pour their se­cre­tions by spe­cial ducts. As the mouth (q.v.) and phar­ynx (q.v.) are sep­arate­ly de­scribed, the de­tailed de­scrip­tion will here be­gin with the oe­soph­agus or gul­let.

The oe­soph­agus (Gr. oiso, I will car­ry, and fagein, to eat), a mus­cu­lar tube lined with mu­cous mem­brane, stretch­es from the low­er lim­it of the phar­ynx, at the lev­el of the cricoid car­ti­lage, to the car­diac ori­fice of the stom­ach. It is about 10 in. long (25 cm.) and half to one inch in di­am­eter. At first it lies in the low­er part of the neck, then in the tho­rax, and last­ly, for about an inch, in the ab­domen. As far as the lev­el of the fourth or fifth tho­racic ver­te­bra it lies be­hind the tra­chea, but when that tube ends, it is in close con­tact with the peri­cardi­um, and, at the lev­el of the tenth tho­racic ver­te­bra, pass­es through the oe­sophageal open­ing of the di­aphragm (q.v.), ac­com­pa­nied by the two va­gi nerves, the left be­ing in front of it and the right be­hind. In the ab­domen it lies just be­hind the left lobe of the liv­er. Both in the up­per and low­er parts of its course it lies a lit­tle to the left of the mid line. Its mu­cous mem­brane is thrown in­to a num­ber of lon­gi­tu­di­nal pleats to al­low stretch­ing.

The stom­ach (Gr. stom­achos) is an ir­reg­ular­ly pear-​shaped bag, sit­uat­ed in the up­per and left part of the ab­domen. It is some­what flat­tened from be­fore back­ward and so has an an­te­ri­or and pos­te­ri­or sur­face and an up­per and low­er bor­der. When mod­er­ate­ly dis­tend­ed the thick end of the pear or fun­dus bulges up­ward and to the left, while the nar­row end is con­strict­ed to form the py­lorus, by means of which the stom­ach com­mu­ni­cates with the small in­tes­tine. The car­diac ori­fice, where the oe­soph­agus en­ters, is placed about a third of the way along the up­per bor­der from the left end of the fun­dus, and, be­tween it and the py­lorus, the up­per bor­der is con­cave and is known as the less­er cur­va­ture. From the car­diac to the py­loric ori­fice, round the low­er bor­der, is the greater cur­va­ture. The stom­ach has in front of it the liv­er (see fig. 1), the di­aphragm and the an­te­ri­or ab­dom­inal wall, while be­hind it are the pan­creas, left kid­ney, left adrenal, spleen, colon and meso­colon. These struc­tures form what is known as the stom­ach cham­ber. When the stom­ach is emp­ty it con­tracts in­to a tubu­lar or­gan which is fre­quent­ly sharply bent, and the trans­verse colon as­cends to oc­cu­py the va­cant part of the stom­ach cham­ber.

The last inch of the stom­ach be­fore reach­ing the py­lorus is

From A. Birm­ing­ham; Cun­ning­ham’s Text-​Book of Anato­my.

FIG. 1.–The Ab­dom­inal Vis­cera in situ, as seen when the ab­domen is laid open and the great omen­tum re­moved (drawn to scale from a pho­to­graph of a male body aged 56, hard­ened by for­ma­lin in­jec­tions).

The ribs on the right side are in­di­cat­ed by Ro­man nu­mer­als; it will be ob­served that the eighth costal car­ti­lage ar­tic­ulat­ed with the ster­num on both sides. The sub­costal, in­ter­tu­ber­cu­lar, and right and left Poupart lines are drawn in black, and the mesial plane is in­di­cat­ed by a dot­ted line. The in­ter­costal mus­cles and part of the di­aphragm have been re­moved, to show the liv­er and stom­ach ex­tend­ing up be­neath the ribs. The stom­ach is mod­er­ate­ly dis­tend­ed, and the in­testines are par­tic­ular­ly reg­ular in their ar­range­ment.

usu­al­ly tubu­lar and is known as the py­loric canal. Be­fore reach­ing this there is a bulging known as the py­loric vestibule (see D. J. Cun­ning­ham, Tr. R. Soc. of Edinib. vol. xlv. pt. 1, No. 2). The py­lorus is an oval open­ing, av­er­ag­ing half an inch in its long ax­is but ca­pa­ble of con­sid­er­able dis­ten­sion; it is formed by a spe­cial de­vel­op­ment of the cir­cu­lar mus­cle lay­er of the stom­ach, and dur­ing life is prob­ably tight­ly closed. The mu­cous mem­brane of the stom­ach is thrown in­to pleats or ru­gae when the or­gan is not ful­ly dis­tend­ed, while be­tween these it has a mam­mil­lat­ed ap­pear­ance.

Su­per­fi­cial to the mu­cous coat is a sub-​mu­cous, con­sist­ing of loose con­nec­tive tis­sue, while su­per­fi­cial to this are three coats of un­striped mus­cle, the in­ner oblique, the mid­dle cir­cu­lar and the out­er lon­gi­tu­di­nal. The peri­toneal coat is de­scribed in the ar­ti­cle on the coelom and serous mem­branes.

The small in­tes­tine is a tube, from 22 to 25 ft. long, be­gin­ning at the py­lorus and end­ing at the ileo-​cae­cal valve; it is di­vid­ed in­to duo­de­num, je­junum and ileum.

The duo­de­num is from 9 to 11 in. long and forms a horse­shoe or C-​shaped curve, en­cir­cling the head of the pan­creas. It dif­fers from the rest of the gut in be­ing retroperi­toneal. Its first part is hor­izon­tal and lies be­hind the fun­dus of the gall-​blad­der, pass­ing back­ward and to the right from the py­lorus. The sec­ond part runs ver­ti­cal­ly down­ward in front of the hilum of the right kid­ney, and in­to this part the pan­cre­at­ic and bile ducts open. The third part runs hor­izon­tal­ly to the left in front of the aor­ta and ve­na ca­va, while the fourth part as­cends to the left side of the sec­ond lum­bar ver­te­bra, af­ter which it bends sharply down­ward and for­ward to form the duo­de­no-​je­ju­nal flex­ure.

The je­junum forms the up­per two-​fifths of the rest of the small in­tes­tine; it, like the ileum, is thrown in­to nu­mer­ous con­vo­lu­tions and is at­tached by the mesen­tery to the pos­te­ri­or ab­dom­inal wall. (See COELOM AND SEROUS MEM­BRANES.)

The ileum is the re­main­ing three-​fifths of the small in­tes­tine, though there is no ab­so­lute point at which the one ends and the oth­er be­gins. Speak­ing broad­ly, the je­junum oc­cu­pies the up­per and left part of the ab­domen be­low the sub­costal plane (see ANATO­MY: Su­per­fi­cial and Artis­tic), the ileum the low­er and right part. About 3 ft. from its ter­mi­na­tion a small pouch, known as Meck­el’s di­ver­tic­ulum, is very oc­ca­sion­al­ly found. At its ter­mi­na­tion the ileum opens in­to the large in­tes­tine at the ileo-​cae­cal valve.

The cae­cum is a blind sac oc­cu­py­ing the right il­iac fos­sa and ex­tend­ing down some two or three inch­es be­low the ileo- cae­cal junc­tion. From its pos­te­ri­or and left sur­face the ver­mi­form ap­pendix pro­trudes, and usu­al­ly is di­rect­ed up­ward and to the left, though it not in­fre­quent­ly hangs down in­to the true pelvis. This worm-​like tube is blind at its end and is usu­al­ly 3 or 4 in. long, though it has been seen as long as 10. in. Its in­ter­nal open­ing in­to the cae­cum is about 1 in. be­low that of the ileum. On trans­verse sec­tion it is seen to be com­posed of (1) an ex­ter­nal mus­cu­lar coat, (2) a sub­mu­cous coat, (3) a mass of lym­phoid tis­sue, which ap­pears af­ter birth, and (4) mu­cous mem­brane. In many cas­es its lu­men is whol­ly or part­ly oblit­er­at­ed, though this is prob­ably due to dis­ease (see R. Berry and L. Lack, Journ. Anat. & Phys. vol. H. p. 247). Guard­ing the open­ing of the ileum in­to the cae­cum is the ileo-​cae­cal valve, which con­sists of two cusps pro­ject­ing in­to the cae­cum; of these the up­per forms a hor­izon­tal shelf, while the low­er slopes up to it oblique­ly. Com­plete ab­sence of the valve has been no­ticed, and in one such case the writ­er found that no ab­dom­inal in­con­ve­nience had been record­ed dur­ing life. The cae­cum is usu­al­ly com­plete­ly cov­ered by peri­toneum, three spe­cial pouch­es of which are of­ten found in its neigh­bour­hood; of these the ileo-​col­ic is just above the point of junc­tion of the ileum and cae­cum, the ileo­cae­cal just be­low that point, while the retro-​cae­cal is be­hind the cae­cum. At birth the cae­cum is a cone, the apex of which is the ap­pendix; it is bent up­on it­self to form a U, and some­times this ar­range­ment per­sists through­out life (see C. Toldt, “Die Form­bil­dung d. men­schl. Blind­darmes,” Sitz. der Wiener Akad. Bd. ci­ii. Abteil. 3, p. 41).

The as­cend­ing colon runs up from the cae­cum at the lev­el of the ileo-​cae­cal valve to the hep­at­ic flex­ure be­neath and be­hind the right lobe of the liv­er; it is about 8 in. long and pos­te­ri­or­ly is in con­tact with the ab­dom­inal wall and right kid­ney. It is cov­ered by peri­toneum ex­cept on its pos­te­ri­or sur­face (see fig. 1).

The trans­verse colon is vari­able in po­si­tion, de­pend­ing large­ly on the dis­ten­sion of the stom­ach, but usu­al­ly cor­re­spond­ing to the sub­costal plane (see ANATO­MY: Su­per­fi­cial and Artis­tic). On the left side of the ab­domen it as­cends to the splenic flex­ure, which may make an im­pres­sion on the spleen (see DUCT­LESS GLANDS), and is bound to the di­aphragm op­po­site the eleventh rib by a fold of peri­toneum called the phreni­co-​col­ic lig­ament. The peri­toneal re­la­tions of this part are dis­cussed in the ar­ti­cle on the coelom and serous mem­branes.

The de­scend­ing colon pass­es down in front of the left kid­ney and left side of the pos­te­ri­or ab­dom­inal wall to the crest of the il­ium; it is about 6 in. long and is usu­al­ly emp­ty and con­tract­ed while the rest of the colon is dis­tend­ed with gas; its peri­toneal re­la­tions are the same as those of the as­cend­ing colon, but it is more like­ly to be com­plete­ly sur­round­ed.

The il­iac colon stretch­es from the crest of the il­ium to the in­ner bor­der of the psoas mus­cle, ly­ing in the left il­iac fos­sa, just above and par­al­lel to Poupart’s lig­ament. Like the de­scend­ing, it is usu­al­ly un­cov­ered by peri­toneum on its pos­te­ri­or sur­face. It is about 6 in. in length.

The pelvic colon lies in the true pelvis and forms a loop, the two limbs of which are su­pe­ri­or and in­fe­ri­or while the con­vex­ity reach­es across to the right side of the pelvis. In the foe­tus this loop oc­cu­pies the right il­iac fos­sa, but, as the cae­cum de­scends and en­larges and the pelvis widens, it is usu­al­ly driv­en out of this re­gion. The dis­tal end of the loop turns sharply down­ward to reach the third piece of the sacrum where it be­comes the rec­tum. To this pelvic colon Sir F. Treves (Anato­my of the In­testi­nal Canal, Lon­don, 1885) has giv­en the name of the omega loop. For­mer­ly the il­iac and pelvic colons were spo­ken of as the sig­moid flex­ure, but Treves and T. Jon­nesco (Le Colon pelvien pen­dant la vie in­tra-​uter­ine, Paris, 1892) have point­ed out the in­ap­pli­ca­bil­ity of the term, and to the lat­ter au­thor the mod­ern de­scrip­tion is due.

The rec­tum, ac­cord­ing to mod­ern ideas, be­gins in front of the third piece of the sacrum; for­mer­ly the last part of the O (or omega) loop was de­scribed as its first part. It ends in a di­lata­tion or rec­tal am­pul­la, which is in con­tact with the back of the prostate in the male and of the vagi­na in the fe­male and is in front of the tip of the coc­cyx. The rec­tum is not straight, as its name would im­ply, but has a con­cav­ity for­ward cor­re­spond­ing to that of the sacrum and coc­cyx.

When viewed from in front three bends are usu­al­ly seen, the up­per and low­er of which are sharply con­cave to the left, the mid­dle one to the right. At the end of the pelvic colon the meso­colon ceas­es, and the rec­tum is then on­ly cov­ered by peri­toneum at its sides and in front; low­er down the lat­er­al cov­er­ing is grad­ual­ly re­flect­ed off and then on­ly the front is cov­ered. About the junc­tion of the mid­dle and low­er thirds of the tube the an­te­ri­or peri­toneal cov­er­ing is al­so re­flect­ed off on to the blad­der or vagi­na, form­ing the rec­to-​vesi­cal pouch in the male and the pouch of Dou­glas in the fe­male. This re­flex­ion is usu­al­ly about 3 in. above the anal aper­ture, but may be a good deal low­er.

The anal canal is the ter­mi­na­tion of the al­imen­ta­ry tract, and runs down­ward and back­ward from the low­er sur­face of the rec­tal am­pul­la be­tween the le­va­tores ani mus­cles. It is about an inch long and its lat­er­al walls are in con­tact, so that in sec­tion it ap­pears as an an­tero-​pos­te­ri­or slit (see J. Syming­ton, Journ. Anat. and Phys. vol. 23, 1888).

Struc­ture of the In­tes­tine.–The in­tes­tine has four coats: serous, mus­cu­lar, sub­mu­cous and mu­cous. The serous or peri­toneal coat has al­ready been de­scribed wher­ev­er it is present. The mus­cu­lar coat con­sists of un­striped fi­bres ar­ranged in two lay­ers, the out­er lon­gi­tu­di­nal and the in­ner cir­cu­lar (see fig. 2). In the large in­tes­tine the lon­gi­tu­di­nal fi­bres, in­stead of be­ing ar­ranged even­ly round the tube as they are in the small, are gath­ered in­to three lon­gi­tu­di­nal bands called tae­ni­ae (see fig. 1); by the con­trac­tion of these the large in­tes­tine is thrown in­to a se­ries of sac­culi or slight pouch­es. The tae­ni­ae in the cae­cum all lead to the ver­mi­form ap­pendix, and form a use­ful guide to this struc­ture. In the rec­tum the three tae­ni­ae once more be­come even­ly ar­ranged over the whole sur­face of the bow­el, but more thick­ly on the an­te­ri­or and pos­te­ri­or parts. The cir­cu­lar lay­er is al­ways thick­er than the lon­gi­tu­di­nal; in the small in­tes­tine it de­creas­es in thick­ness from the duo­de­num to the ileum, but in the large it grad­ual­ly in­creas­es again, so that it is thick­est in the duo­de­num and rec­tum.

The sub­mu­cous coat is very strong and con­sists of loose are­olar tis­sue in which the ves­sels break up.

The mu­cous coat is thick and vas­cu­lar (see fig. 2); it con­sists of an ep­ithe­lial lay­er most in­ter­nal­ly which forms the in­testi­nal glands (see EP­ITHE­LIAL, EN­DOTHE­LIAL AND GLAN­DU­LAR TIS­SUES.) Ex­ter­nal to this is the base­ment mem­brane, out­side which is a lay­er of reti­form tis­sue, and this is sep­arat­ed from the sub­mu­cous coat by a very thin lay­er of un­striped mus­cle called the mus­cu­laris mu­cosae. In the duo­de­num and je­junum the mu­cous mem­brane is thrown in­to a se­ries of trans­verse pleats called valvu­lae con­niventes (see fig. 3); these be­gin about an inch from the py­lorus and grad­ual­ly fade away as the ileum is reached. About 4 in. from the py­lorus the com­mon bile and pan­cre­at­ic ducts form a papil­la, above which one of the valvu­lae con­niventes makes a hood and be­low which a ver­ti­cal fold, the frenu­lum, runs down­ward. The sur­face of the mu­cous mem­brane of the whole of the small in­tes­tine has a vel­vety ap­pear­ance, due to the pres­ence of close­ly-​set, minute, thread-​like el­eva­tions called vilii (see ffg. 2). Through­out the whole length of the in­testi­nal tract are minute mass­es of lym­phoid tis­sue called soli­tary glands (see fig. 2); these are es­pe­cial­ly nu­mer­ous in the Cae­cum and ap­pendix, while in the ileum they are col­lect­ed in­to large oval patch­es, known as ag­mi­nat­ed glands or Pey­er’s patch­es, the long ax­es of which, from half an inch to 4 in. long, lie in the long ax­is of the bow­el. They are al­ways found in that part of the in­tes­tine which is fur­thest from the mesen­ter­ic at­tach­ment. In the in­te­ri­or of the rec­tum three shelf-​like folds, one above the oth­er, project in­to the cav­ity and cor­re­spond to the lat­er­al con­cav­ities or kinks of the tube. They are not in the same line and the largest is usu­al­ly on the right side. They are known as the pli­cae rec­ti or valves of Hous­ton. In the anal canal are four or five lon­gi­tu­di­nal folds called the columns of Mor­gag­ni. (For fur­ther de­tails, see Quain’s Anato­my, Lon­don, 1896; Gray’s Anato­my, Lon­don, 1905; Cun­ning­ham’s Anato­my, Ed­in­burgh, 1906.)

Em­bry­ol­ogy.–The greater part of the al­imen­ta­ry canal is formed by the clos­ing-​in of the en­to­derm to make a lon­gi­tu­di­nal tube, ven­tral and par­al­lel to the no­to­chord. This tube is blind in front and be­hind (cepha­lad and cau­dad), but the mid­dle part of its ven­tral wall is for some dis­tance con­tin­uous with the wall of the yolk-​sac, and this part of the canal, which at first opens in­to the yolk-​sac by a very wide aper­ture, is called the mid gut. The part in front of it, which lies dor­sal to the heart, is the fore gut, while the part be­hind the aper­ture of the yolk-​sac is the hind gut.

The phar­ynx, oe­soph­agus, stom­ach and part of the duo­de­num are de­vel­oped from the fore gut, a good deal of the colon and the

From A. Birm­ing­ham; Cun­ning­ham’s Text-​Book of Anato­my. Fig. 3.–Valvu­lae Con­niventes (nat­ural size). A, As seen in a bit of je­junum which has been filled with al­co­hol and hard­ened.

B, A por­tion of fresh in­tes­tine spread out un­der wa­ter.

rec­tum from the hind gut, while the mid gut is re­spon­si­ble for the rest. The cephal­ic part of the fore gut forms the phar­ynx (q.v.), and about the fourth week the stom­ach ap­pears as a fusiform di­lata­tion in the straight tube. Be­tween the two the oe­soph­agus grad­ual­ly forms as the em­bryo elon­gates. The open­ing in­to the yolk-​sac, which at first is very wide, grad­ual­ly nar­rows, as the ven­tral ab­dom­inal walls close in, un­til in the adult the on­ly in­di­ca­tion of the con­nex­ion be­tween the gut and the yolk-​sac is the very rare pres­ence (about 2%) of Meck­el’s di­ver­tic­ulum al­ready re­ferred to. The stom­ach soon shows signs of the greater and less­er cur­va­tures, the lat­ter be­ing ven­tral, but main­tains its straight po­si­tion. About the sixth week the cae­cum ap­pears as a lat­er­al di­ver­tic­ulum, and, un­til the third month, is of uni­form cal­ibre; af­ter this pe­ri­od the ter­mi­nal part ceas­es to grow at the same rate as the prox­imal, and so the ver­mi­form ap­pendix is formed. The mid gut forms a loop with its con­vex­ity to­ward the di­min­ish­ing vitelline duct, or re­mains of the yolk-​sac, and un­til the third month it pro­trudes in­to the um­bil­ical cord. The greater cur­va­ture of the stom­ach grows more rapid­ly than the less­er, and the whole stom­ach turns over and be­comes bent at right an­gles, so that what was its left sur­face be­comes ven­tral. This turn­ing over of the stom­ach throws the suc­ceed­ing part of the in­tes­tine in­to a duo­de­nal loop, which at first has a dor­sal and ven­tral mesen­tery (see COELOM AND SEROUS MEM­BRANES.) The in­tes­tine now grows very rapid­ly and is thrown in­to a se­ries of coils; the cae­cum as­cends and pass­es to the right ven­tral to the duo­de­num, and press­es it against the dor­sal wall of the ab­domen; then it de­scends to­ward its per­ma­nent po­si­tion in the right il­iac fos­sa.

From the ven­tral sur­face on the hin­der (cau­dal) closed end of the in­testi­nal tube the al­lan­tois grows to form the pla­cen­ta and blad­der (see URI­NARY SYS­TEM, RE­PRO­DUC­TIVE SYS­TEM and PLA­CEN­TA), and this re­gion is the cloa­ca in­to which the al­imen­ta­ry, uri­nary and gen­er­ative canals or ducts all open, but lat­er two lat­er­al folds ap­pear which, by their union, di­vide the cloa­ca in­to a ven­tral and a dor­sal part, the for­mer be­ing gen­ito-​uri­nary and the lat­ter al­imen­ta­ry or in­testi­nal. In this way the rec­tum or dor­sal com­part­ment is shut off from the gen­ito-​uri­nary. Lat­er an ec­to­der­mal in­vagi­na­tion at the hind end of the em­bryo de­vel­ops and forms the anal canal; this is the proc­to­daeum, and for some time it is sep­arat­ed from the hind (cau­dal) end of the rec­tal part of the meso­daeum (or part of the in­testi­nal canal formed from the meso­derm) by a mem­brane called the anal mem­brane. This is even­tu­al­ly ab­sorbed and the di­ges­tive tract now com­mu­ni­cates with the sur­face by the anus.

F. Wood Jones (British Med­ical Jour­nal, 17th of De­cem­ber 1904) has giv­en a some­what dif­fer­ent de­scrip­tion of the de­vel­op­ment of the cloa­ca and anus, which bet­ter ex­plains the var­ious ab­nor­mal­ities met with in this re­gion but re­quires fur­ther con­fir­ma­tion be­fore it is gen­er­al­ly ac­cept­ed. For the de­vel­op­ment of the mouth, phar­ynx, lungs, liv­er and pan­creas from the prim­itive al­imen­ta­ry canal, the read­er is re­ferred to the spe­cial ar­ti­cles on those struc­tures. (For fur­ther de­tails, see W. His, Anatomie men­schlich­er Em­bry­onen (Leipzig, 1880-1885); C. S. Minot’s Em­bry­ol­ogy (New York, 1897); and J. P. M`Mur­rich, De­vel­op­ment of the Hu­man Body (Lon­don, 1906). (F. G. P.)

Com­par­ative Anato­my.–The prim­itive con­di­tion of the ver­te­brate al­imen­ta­ry canal may be de­scribed as a straight, sim­ple tube, con­sist­ing of an an­te­ri­or por­tion, the sto­modaeum, formed by an ec­to­der­mal in­vagi­na­tion, the mesen­teron, a long me­di­an por­tion lined by en­do­derm, and a short pos­te­ri­or por­tion, the proc­to­daeum, formed by ec­to­der­mal in­vagi­na­tion. In the low­er ver­te­brates the prim­itive tube sub­served al­so the pur­pose of res­pi­ra­tion, and traces of the dou­ble func­tion re­main in the adult struc­ture of all ver­te­brates (see MOUTH, PHAR­YNX.) In fish, the phar­ynx, or branchial re­gion, sud­den­ly be­comes nar­row­er, pos­te­ri­or to the gill-​slits, to form the oe­soph­agus; in high­er an­imals the oe­soph­agus, in the adult, is sep­arat­ed from the prim­itive pha­ryn­geal re­gion and lies dor­sal to it. Prob­ably, in the prim­itive ver­te­bra­ta, the en­tire al­imen­ta­ry canal was lined with cil­iat­ed cells. Traces of this cil­ia­tion per­sist in many liv­ing forms. In the Am­mo­coete, the lar­val form of Petromy­zon (see CY­CLOSTOM­ATA), the whole canal is cil­iat­ed ex­cept the phar­ynx and the rec­tum; in the Dip­noi the ep­ithe­li­um of the stom­ach and the in­testines is cil­iat­ed; in Selachii that of the pos­te­ri­or part of the gul­let, and the spi­ral valve, is cil­iat­ed; ex­ten­sive cil­ia­tion may oc­cur in al­most any re­gion of the gut of the low­er teleos. tomes, but in the high­er forms (Teleostei) it is gen­er­al­ly ab­sent. In the lat­ter, how­ev­er, and in high­er groups of ver­te­brates, a pe­cu­liar stri­at­ed bor­der on the colum­nar cells lin­ing the in­testi­nal tract has been held to be a fi­nal trace of an­ces­tral cil­ia­tion.

The al­imen­ta­ry canal may be con­ve­nient­ly de­scribed in three di­vi­sions, the oe­soph­agus or gul­let, the pas­sage by which food reach­es the stom­ach, the stom­ach, typ­ical­ly an ex­pand­ed re­gion in which the food re­mains for a con­sid­er­able time and is me­chan­ical­ly pulped, mixed with mu­cus and cer­tain di­ges­tive juices (see NU­TRI­TION) and part­ly mac­er­at­ed, the in­testi­nal tract or gut, ex­tend­ing from the dis­tal end of the stom­ach to the cloa­ca or anus, in which the food is sub­ject­ed to fur­ther di­ges­tive ac­tion, but which is above all the re­gion in which ab­sorp­tion of the prod­ucts of di­ges­tion takes place, the refuse ma­te­ri­al to­geth­er with quan­ti­ties of waste mat­ter en­ter­ing the gut from the blood and liv­er be­ing grad­ual­ly passed to­wards the anus for dis­charge from the body.

The oe­soph­agus is es­sen­tial­ly mere­ly a pas­sage, as straight as may be, from the phar­ynx to the stom­ach, vary­ing in length with the length of the neck and tho­racic re­gions in dif­fer­ent an­imals, and in cal­ibre with the na­ture of the food. It is al­most in­vari­ably lined with a many-​lay­ered ep­ithe­li­um, form­ing a tough coat­ing, read­ily re­paired and not eas­ily dam­aged by hard food mass­es. It is oc­ca­sion­al­ly sep­arat­ed from the stom­ach by a slight con­stric­tion which may be ca­pa­ble of con­trac­tion so as to pre­vent re­gur­gi­ta­tion. There are few ex­cep­tions to this struc­tural and func­tion­al sim­plic­ity. In fish­es (see ICHTHY­OL­OGY, Anato­my) the swim-​blad­der is de­vel­oped as a dor­sal out­growth of the oe­soph­agus and may re­main in open con­nex­ion with it. In cer­tain Teleosteis (e.g. Li­itodeira) it is longer than the length it has to tra­verse and is thrown in­to con­vo­lu­tions. In many oth­er fish, par­tic­ular­ly Selachi­is, a set of pro­cess­es of the lin­ing wall project in­to the cav­ity near the stom­ach and have been sup­posed to aid in pre­vent­ing food par­ti­cles, or liv­ing crea­tures swal­lowed with­out in­jury, es­cap­ing back­wards in­to the mouth. In some egg-​eat­ing snakes the sharp tips of the ven­tral spines (hy­pa­pophy­ses) of the pos­te­ri­or cer­vi­cal ver­te­brae pen­etrate the wall of the oe­soph­agus and are used for break­ing the shells of the eggs tak­en as food. In some aquat­ic Ch­elo­ni­ans, the food of which con­sists chiefly of sea­weeds, the lin­ing mem­brane is pro­duced in­to point­ed pro­cess­es back­ward­ly di­rect­ed. In birds this re­gion fre­quent­ly presents pe­cu­liar­ities. In Opistho­co­mus it forms an enor­mous­ly wide dou­ble loop, hang­ing down over the breast-​bone, which is pe­cu­liar­ly flat­tened and de­void of a keel in the an­te­ri­or por­tion. In many birds part of the oe­soph­agus may be tem­porar­ily di­lat­ed, form­ing a “crop,” as for in­stance in birds of prey and hum­ming birds. In the flamin­go, many ducks, storks, and the cor­morant the crop is a per­ma­nent al­though not a high­ly spe­cial­ized en­large­ment. Fi­nal­ly, in the vast ma­jor­ity of seed- eat­ing birds, in gal­li­na­ceous birds, pi­geons, sand­grouse, par­rots and many Passeres, par­tic­ular­ly the finch­es, the crop is a per­ma­nent glob­ular di­lata­tion, in which the food is re­tained for a con­sid­er­able time, mixed with a slight mu­cous se­cre­tion, and soft­ened and part­ly mac­er­at­ed by the heat of the body. Many birds feed their young from the soft con­tents of the crop, and in pi­geons, at the breed­ing sea­son, the cells lin­ing the crop pro­lif­er­ate rapid­ly and are dis­charged as a soft cheesy mass in­to the cav­ity, form­ing the sub­stance known as pi­geon’s milk. Amongst Mam­malia, in Ro­den­tia, Car­nivo­ra, ele­phants and ru­mi­nants, the wall of the oe­soph­agus con­tains a lay­er of vol­un­tary mus­cle, by the con­trac­tion of which these an­imals in­duce an­ti- peri­staltic move­ments and can so re­gur­gi­tate food in­to the mouth.

Stom­ach.–Where the oe­soph­agus pass­es in­to the stom­ach, the lin­ing wall of the al­imen­ta­ry tract changes from a many-​lay­ered ep­ithe­li­um to a mu­cous ep­ithe­li­um, con­sist­ing of a sin­gle lay­er of en­do­der­mal cells, fre­quent­ly thrown in­to pits or pro­ject­ing as pro­cess­es; from be­ing chiefly pro­tec­tive, it has be­come se­cre­to­ry and ab­sorb­ing, and main­tains this char­ac­ter to the dis­tal ex­trem­ity where it pass­es in­to the epi­blast of the proc­to­daeum. In most cas­es the course of the al­imen­ta­ry canal from the dis­tal end of the oe­soph­agus to the cloa­ca or anus is longer than the cor­re­spond­ing re­gion of the body, and the canal is there­fore thrown in­to folds. The fun­da­men­tal form of the stom­ach is a sac-​like en­large­ment of the canal, the prox­imal por­tion of which is con­tin­uous with the line of the oe­soph­agus, but the dis­tal por­tion of which is bent in the prox­imal por­tion, the whole form­ing an en­larged bent tube. At the dis­tal end of the tube the in­testi­nal tract prop­er be­gins, and the two re­gions are sep­arat­ed by a mus­cu­lar con­stric­tion. In fish­es the stom­ach is gen­er­al­ly in one of two forms; it may be a sim­ple bent tube, the prox­imal limb of which is al­most in­vari­ably much wider than the dis­tal, an­te­ri­or­ly di­rect­ed limb; or the oe­soph­agus may pass di­rect­ly in­to an ex­pand­ed, glob­ular or elon­gat­ed sac, from the an­te­ri­or lat­er­al wall of which, not far from the oe­sophageal open­ing, the duo­de­num aris­es. In Ba­tra­chia and Rep­til­ia the stom­ach is in most cas­es a sim­ple sac, marked off from the oe­soph­agus on­ly by in­creased cal­ibre. In the Crocodil­ia, how­ev­er, the an­te­ri­or por­tion of the stom­ach is much en­larged and very high­ly mus­cu­lar, the mus­cles ra­di­at­ing from a cen­tral tendi­nous area on each of the flat­tened sides. The cav­ity is lined by a hard­ened se­cre­tion and con­tains a quan­ti­ty of peb­bles and grav­el which are used in the me­chan­ical trit­ura­tion of the food, so that the re­sem­blance to the giz­zard of birds is well marked. This mus­cu­lar cham­ber leads by a small aper­ture in­to a dis­tal, small­er and more glan­du­lar cham­ber. In birds the stom­ach ex­hibits two re­gions, an an­te­ri­or glan­du­lar re­gion, the proven­tricu­lus, the walls of which are rel­ative­ly soft and con­tain en­larged di­ges­tive glands ag­gre­gat­ed in patch­es (e.g. some Steganopodes), in rows (e.g. most birds of prey) or in a more or less reg­ular band. The dis­tal re­gion is larg­er and is lined in most cas­es by a more or less per­ma­nent lin­ing which is thick and tough in birds with a mus­cu­lar giz­zard, very slight in the oth­ers. In many birds, spe­cial­ly those feed­ing on fish, the two re­gions of the stom­ach are of equal width, and are in­dis­tin­guish­able un­til, on open­ing the cav­ity, the dif­fer­ence in the char­ac­ter of the lin­ing mem­brane be­comes vis­ible. In oth­er birds the proven­tricu­lus is sep­arat­ed by a well marked con­stric­tion from the pos­te­ri­or and larg­er re­gion. In graminif­er­ous forms the lat­ter be­comes a thick-​walled mus­cu­lar giz­zard, the mus­cles ra­di­at­ing from tendi­nous ar­eas and the cav­ity con­tain­ing peb­bles or grav­el.

In mam­mals, the prim­itive form of the stom­ach con­sists of a more or less glob­ular or elon­gat­ed ex­pan­sion of the oe­sophageal re­gion, form­ing the car­diac por­tion, and a for­ward­ly curved, nar­row­er py­loric por­tion, from which the duo­de­num aris­es. The whole wall is mus­cu­lar, and the lin­ing mem­brane is rich­ly glan­du­lar. In the In­sec­tivo­ra, Car­nivo­ra, Peris­so­dacty­la, and in most Eden­ta­ta, Chi­roptera, Ro­den­tia and Pri­mates, this prim­itive dis­po­si­tion is re­tained, the dif­fer­ence con­sist­ing chiefly in the de­grees of elon­ga­tion of the stom­ach and the sharp­ness of the dis­tal cur­va­ture. In oth­er cas­es the car­diac por­tion may be pro­longed in­to a cae­cal sac, a con­di­tion most high­ly dif­fer­en­ti­at­ed in the blood-​suck­ing bat, Desmodeus, where it is longer than the en­tire length of the body. There are two car­diac ex­ten­sions in the hip­popota­mus and in the pec­ca­ry. In many oth­er mam­mals one, two or three pro­tru­sions of the car­diac re­gion oc­cur, whilst in the man­atee and in some ro­dents the car­diac re­gion is con­strict­ed off from the py­loric por­tion. In the Ar­tio­dacty­la the stom­ach is al­ways com­plex, the com­plex­ity reach­ing a max­imum in ru­mi­nat­ing forms. In the Suidae a car­diac di­ver­tic­ulum is part­ly con­strict­ed from the gen­er­al cav­ity, form­ing an in­cip­ient con­di­tion of the ru­men of true ru­mi­nants; the gen­er­al cav­ity of the stom­ach shows an ap­proach to the ru­mi­nant con­di­tion by the dif­fer­ent char­ac­ters of the lin­ing wall in dif­fer­ent ar­eas. In the chevro­tains, which in many oth­er re­spects show con­di­tions in­ter­me­di­ate be­tween non­rumi­nant ar­tio­dactyles and true ru­mi­nants, the oe­soph­agus opens in­to a wide car­diac por­tion, in­com­plete­ly di­vid­ed in­to four cham­bers. Three of these, to­wards the car­diac ex­trem­ity, are lined with vil­li and cor­re­spond to the ru­men or paunch; the fourth, which lies be­tween the open­ing of the oe­soph­agus and the py­loric por­tion of the stom­ach, is the ru­mi­nant retic­ulum and its wall is lined with very shal­low “cells.” A groove runs along its dor­sal wall from the oe­sophageal aper­ture to a very small cav­ity lined with low, lon­gi­tu­di­nal­ly dis­posed folds, and form­ing a nar­row pas­sage be­tween the car­diac and py­loric di­vi­sions; this is an ear­ly stage in the de­vel­op­ment of the oma­sum, psalteri­um or many­plies of the ru­mi­nant stom­ach. The fourth or true py­loric cham­ber is an elon­gat­ed sac with smooth glan­du­lar walls and is the abo­ma­sum, or ren­net sack. In the camel the ru­men forms an enor­mous glob­ular paunch with vil­lous walls and in­ter­nal­ly show­ing a trace of di­vi­sion in­to two re­gions. It is well marked off from the retic­ulum, the “cells” of which are ex­treme­ly deep, form­ing the well-​known wa­ter-​cham­bers. The psalteri­um is sharply con­strict­ed off from the retic­ulum and is an elon­gat­ed cham­ber show­ing lit­tle trace of the lon­gi­tu­di­nal ridges char­ac­ter­is­tic of this re­gion; it opens di­rect­ly in­to the rel­ative­ly small abo­ma­sum. In the true ru­mi­nants, the ru­men forms a ca­pa­cious, vil­lous reser­voir, near­ly al­ways part­ly sac­cu­lat­ed, in­to which the food is passed rapid­ly as the an­imal grazes. The food is sub­ject­ed to a ro­tary move­ment in the paunch, and is thus re­peat­ed­ly sub­ject­ed to moist­en­ing with the flu­ids se­cret­ed by the retic­ulum, as it is passed over the aper­ture of that cav­ity, and is formed in­to a round­ed bo­lus. Most ru­mi­nants swal­low mass­es of hairs, and these, by the ro­tary ac­tion of the paunch, are ag­gre­gat­ed in­to pe­cu­liar dense, round­ed balls which are oc­ca­sion­al­ly dis­charged from the mouth and are known as “hair-​balls” or “be­zoars.” The food bo­lus, when the an­imal is ly­ing down af­ter graz­ing, is passed in­to the oe­soph­agus and reach­es the mouth by an­tiperi­staltic con­trac­tions of the oe­soph­agus. Af­ter pro­longed mas­ti­ca­tion and mix­ing with sali­va, it is again swal­lowed, but is now passed in­to the psalteri­um, which, in true ru­mi­nants, is a small cham­ber with con­spic­uous lon­gi­tu­di­nal folds. Fi­nal­ly it reach­es the large abo­ma­sum where the last stages of gas­tric di­ges­tion oc­cur.

In the Cetacea the stom­ach is dif­fer­ent from that found in any oth­er group of mam­mals. The oe­soph­agus opens di­rect­ly in­to a very large car­diac sac the dis­tal ex­trem­ity of which forms a long cae­cal pouch. At near­ly the first third of its length this com­mu­ni­cates by a nar­row aper­ture in­to the elon­gat­ed, rel­ative­ly nar­row py­loric por­tion. The lat­ter is con­vo­lut­ed and con­strict­ed in­to a se­ries of cham­bers that dif­fer in dif­fer­ent groups of Cetacea. In the Sire­nia the stom­ach is di­vid­ed by a con­stric­tion in­to a car­diac and a py­loric por­tion, and the lat­ter has a pair of cae­ca. In most of the Mar­su­pi­alia the stom­ach is rel­ative­ly sim­ple, form­ing a glob­ular sac with the oe­sophageal and py­loric aper­tures close­ly ap­prox­imat­ed; in the kan­ga­roos, on the oth­er hand, the stom­ach is di­vid­ed in­to a rel­ative­ly small, cae­cal car­diac por­tion and an enor­mous­ly long sac­cu­lat­ed and con­vo­lut­ed py­loric re­gion, the gen­er­al ar­range­ment of which close­ly re­calls the large cae­cum of many mam­mals.

In­testi­nal Tract.–It is not yet pos­si­ble to dis­cuss the gen­er­al mor­phol­ogy of this re­gion in ver­te­brates as a group, as, whilst the mod­ifi­ca­tions dis­played in birds and mam­mals have been com­pared and stud­ied in de­tail, those in the low­er groups have not yet been sys­tem­at­ical­ly co-​or­di­nat­ed.

Fish­es.–In the Cy­clostom­ata, Holo­cephali and a few Teleostei the course of the gut is prac­ti­cal­ly straight from the py­loric end of the stom­ach to the ex­te­ri­or, and there is no marked dif­fer­en­ti­ation in­to re­gions. In the Dip­noi, a con­tract­ed sig­moid curve be­tween the stom­ach and the di­lat­ed in­tes­tine is a sim­ple be­gin­ning of the com­plex­ity found in oth­er groups. In very many of the more spe­cial­ized teleosteans, the gut is much con­vo­lut­ed, ex­hibit­ing a se­ries of watch­spring-​like coils. In a num­ber of dif­fer­ent groups, in­creased sur­face for ab­sorp­tion is giv­en, not by in­crease in length of the whole gut, but by the de­vel­op­ment of an in­ter­nal fold known as the spi­ral valve. This was prob­ably orig­inal­ly a lon­gi­tu­di­nal fold sim­ilar to the ty­phlosole of chaetopods. It forms a sim­ple fold in the lar­val Am­mo­coete, and in its an­te­ri­or re­gion re­mains straight in some adult fish, e.g. Polypterus, but in the ma­jor­ity of cas­es it forms a com­plex spi­ral, wound round the in­ner wall of the ex­pand­ed large in­tes­tine, the in­ter­nal edge of the fold some­times meet­ing to form a cen­tral col­umn. It oc­curs in Cy­clostom­ata, Selachii, Holo­cephali, Chon­drostei, Crossoptery­gii, Ami­idae, Lep­idostei­dae and Dip­noi. A set of or­gans pe­cu­liar to fish and known as the py­loric cae­ca are ab­sent in Cy­clostom­ata and Dip­noi, in most Selachii and in Amia, but present, in num­bers rang­ing from one to near­ly two hun­dred, in the vast ma­jor­ity of fish. These are out­growths of the in­testi­nal tract near the py­loric ex­trem­ity of the stom­ach, and their func­tion is part­ly glan­du­lar, part­ly ab­sorb­ing. In a few Teleostei there is a sin­gle cae­cal di­ver­tic­ulum at the be­gin­ning of the “rec­tum,” and in the same re­gion a sol­id rec­tal gland oc­curs in most elas­mo­branchs, whilst, again, in the Dip­noi a sim­ilar struc­ture opens in­to the cloa­ca. These cae­ca have been com­pared with the col­ic cae­ca of high­er ver­te­brates, but there is yet no ex­act ev­idence for the ho­mol­ogy.

In the Ba­tra­chia the course of the in­testi­nal tract is near­ly straight from the py­loric end of the stom­ach to the cloa­ca, in the case of the peren­ni­branchi­ates there be­ing no more than a few sim­ple loops be­tween the ex­pand­ed “rec­tum” and the straight por­tion that leaves the stom­ach. In the Ca­ducibranchi­ata the an­te­ri­or end of the en­larged rec­tum lies very close to the dis­tal ex­trem­ity of the stom­ach, and the gut, be­tween these two re­gions, is great­ly length­ened, form­ing a loop with many mi­nor loops borne at the pe­riph­ery of an ex­panse of mesen­tery, re­call­ing the Meck­elian tract of birds and mam­mals. In the tad­pole this re­gion is spi­ral­ly coiled and is still longer rel­ative­ly to the length of the whole tract. In Hy­la and Pi­pa there is a small cae­cum com­pa­ra­ble with the col­ic cae­cum of birds and mam­mals.

In Rep­til­ia the con­fig­ura­tion of the in­testi­nal tract does not dif­fer much from that in Ba­tra­chia, the length and com­plex­ity of the mi­nor coils ap­par­ent­ly vary­ing with the gen­er­al con­fig­ura­tion of the body, that is to say, in rep­tiles with a long, nar­row, and snake-​like body the mi­nor loops of the gut are rel­ative­ly short and unim­por­tant, whilst in those with a more spa­cious cav­ity, such as ch­elo­ni­ans, many lizards and crocodiles, the gut may be rel­ative­ly long and dis­posed in many mi­nor coils. There is com­par­ative­ly lit­tle dif­fer­en­ti­ation be­tween the mid-​gut and the gut in cas­es where the whole gut is long; in the oth­ers the hind-​gut is gen­er­al­ly marked by an in­crease of cal­ibre. A short cae­cal di­ver­tic­ulum, com­pa­ra­ble with the col­ic cae­cum of birds and mam­mals, is present in many snakes and lizards and in some ch­elo­ni­ans.

In fish­es, ba­tra­chi­ans and rep­tiles the in­testi­nal tract is swung from the dor­sal wall of the ab­dom­inal cav­ity by a mesen­tery which is in­com­plete on ac­count of sec­ondary ab­sorp­tion in places, and which grows out with the mi­nor loops of the gut. There are al­so traces, more abun­dant in the low­er forms, of the still more prim­itive ven­tral mesen­tery.

In­testi­nal Tract in Birds and Mam­mals.–There is no doubt but that the sim­ilar­ity of the modes of dis­po­si­tion of the al­imen­ta­ry tract in birds and mam­mals points to the prob­abil­ity of the chief mor­pho­log­ical fea­tures of this re­gion in these an­imals hav­ing been laid down in some com­mon an­ces­tor, al­though we

FIG. 4.–In­testi­nal Tract of Chau­na chavaria. c.c. Col­ic cae­ca. p.v. Cut root of por­tal vein. d. Duo­de­num. r.v. Rec­tal vein. g. Glan­du­lar patch. s. Proven­tricu­lus. l.l. Meck­el’s tract. y. Meck­el’s di­ver­tic­ulum, or l.i. Hind-​gut. Yolk-​sac ves­tige. have not yet suf­fi­cient ex­act knowl­edge of the gut in Pisces, Ba­tra­chia and Rep­til­ia to find amongst these with any cer­tain­ty the most prob­able sur­vival from the an­ces­tral con­di­tion. The prim­itive gut must be sup­posed to have run back­wards from the stom­ach to the cloa­ca sus­pend­ed from the dor­sal wall of the body-​cav­ity by a dor­sal mesen­tery. This tract, in the course of phy­loge­ny of the com­mon an­ces­tors of birds and mam­mals, be­came longer than the straight length be­tween its ex­treme points and, con­se­quendy, was thrown in­to a se­ries of folds. The mesen­tery grew out with these folds, but the pres­ence of ad­ja­cent or­gans, the dis­tur­bance due to the out­growth of the liv­er, and the sec­ondary re­la­tions brought about be­tween dif­fer­ent por­tions of the gut, as the out-​grow­ing loops in­vad­ed each oth­er’s lo­cal­ities, dis­turbed the prim­itive sim­plic­ity. Three def­inite re­gions of out­growth, how­ev­er, be­came con­spic­uous and are to be rec­og­nized in the ac­tu­al dis­po­si­tion of the gut in ex­ist­ing birds and mam­mals. The first of these is the duo­de­num. In the vast ma­jor­ity of birds, and in some of the sim­pler mam­mals, the por­tion of the gut im­me­di­ate­ly dis­tal of the stom­ach grows out in­to a long and nar­row loop (fig. 4, d), the prox­imal and dis­tal ends of which are close to­geth­er, whilst the loop it­self may re­main long and nar­row, or may de­vel­op mi­nor loops on its course. In mam­mals gen­er­al­ly, how­ev­er, the duo­de­num is com­plex and is not so sharply marked off from the dis­tal por­tion of the gut as in birds. The sec­ond por­tion is Meck­el’s tract. It con­sists of the part gen­er­al­ly known as the small in­testines, the je­junum and ileum of hu­man anato­my, and

Fig. 5,–In­testi­nal Tract of Ca­nis vulpes. S, cut end of duo­de­num; C, cae­cum; R, cut end of rec­tum.

stretch­es from the dis­tal end of the duo­de­num to the cae­cum or cae­ca. It is the chief ab­sorb­ing por­tion of the gut, and in near­ly all birds and mam­mals is the longest por­tion. It rep­re­sents, how­ev­er, on­ly a very small part of the prim­itive straight gut, cor­re­spond­ing to not more than two or three somites of the em­bryo. This nar­row por­tion grows out to form the greater part of what is called the pen­dent loop in mam­malian em­bry­ol­ogy. Its an­te­ri­or or prox­imal end lies close to the ap­prox­imat­ed

Fig. 6.–In­testi­nal Tract of Macro­pus ben­net­ti. S, cut end of duo­de­num; R, cut end of rec­tum; C, cae­cum; C2, ac­ces­so­ry cae­cum; C.L, col­ic loop of hind-​gut.

prox­imal and dis­tal ends of the duo­de­nal loop, whilst its dis­tal end pass­es in­to the hind-​gut at the col­ic cae­cum or cae­ca. In the em­bryos of all birds and mam­mals, the me­di­an point of Meck­el’s tract, the part of the loop which has grown out far­thest from the dor­sal edge of the mesen­tery, is marked by the di­ver­tic­ulum cae­cum vitel­li, the prim­itive con­nex­ion of the cav­ity of the gut with the nar­row­ing stalk of the yolk-​sac (fig. 4, y.) Nat­ural­ly, in birds where the yolk-​sac is of great func­tion­al im­por­tance this di­ver­tic­ulum is large, and in a ma­jor­ity of the fam­ilies of birds per­sists through­out life, form­ing a con­ve­nient point of ori­en­ta­tion. In mam­mals, no doubt in as­so­ci­ation with the func­tion­al re­duc­tion of the yolk-​sac, this di­ver­tic­ulum, which is known as Meck­el’s di­ver­tic­ulum, has less im­por­tance, and whilst it has been ob­served in a small per­cent­age of adult hu­man sub­jects has not been rec­og­nized in the adult con­di­tion of any low­er Mam­malia.

In birds, Meck­el’s tract falls in­to mi­nor folds or loops, the dis­po­si­tion of which forms a se­ries of pat­terns re­mark­ably dif­fer­ent in ap­pear­ance and char­ac­ter­is­tic of dif­fer­ent groups. In fig. 4 an ex­treme­ly prim­itive type is rep­re­sent­ed. In mam­mals Meck­el’s tract re­mains much more uni­form; it may be short, or in­crease enor­mous­ly in length, but in ei­ther case it falls in­to a fair­ly sym­met­ri­cal shape, sus­pend­ed at the cir­cum­fer­ence of a near­ly cir­cu­lar ex­panse of mesen­tery. Where it is short it is thrown in­to very sim­ple mi­nor loops (figs. 5, 6 and 7); where it is long, these mi­nor loops form a con­vo­lut­ed mass (figs. 8 abd 9).

FIG. 7.–In­testi­nal Tract of Tapir. S, cut end of duo­de­num; R, cut end of rec­tum; C, cae­cum; CL, colon.

The third por­tion of the gut should be termed the hind-​gut and lies be­tween the cae­cum or cae­ca and the anus, cor­re­spond­ing to the large in­testines, colon and rec­tum of hu­man anato­my. It is formed from a much larg­er por­tion of the prim­itive straight gut than the duo­de­num and Meck­el’s tract to­geth­er, and its prox­imal por­tion, in con­se­quence, lies very close to the ori­gin of the duo­de­num. In the vast ma­jor­ity of birds, the hind-​gut in the adult is rel­ative­ly ex­treme­ly short, of­ten be­ing on­ly from

Fig. 8.–In­testi­nal Tract of Gi­raffe. S, cut end of duo­de­num; R, cut end of rec­tum; C, cae­cum; P.C.L, post-​cae­cal loop; S.P, spi­ral loop; SF, third loop of hind-​gut.

one-​eighth to one-​thir­ti­eth of the whole length of the gut. A cer­tain num­ber of prim­itive birds, how­ev­er, have re­tained a rel­ative­ly long con­di­tion of the hind-​gut (fig. 4), the great­est rel­ative length oc­cur­ring in struthious birds, and par­tic­ular­ly in the os­trich, where the hind-​gut ex­ceeds in length the duo­de­num and Meck­el’s tract to­geth­er. Mam­mals may be con­trast­ed with birds as a group in which the hind-​gut is al­ways rel­ative­ly long, some­times ex­treme­ly long, and in which, more­over, there is a strong ten­den­cy to dif­fer­en­ti­ation of the hind-​gut in­to re­gions the char­ac­ters of which are of sys­tem­at­ic im­por­tance. The first re­gion is the colon, which forms a very sim­ple ex­pan­sion in mam­mals such as Car­nivo­ra (fig. 5), where the whole hind-​gut is rel­ative­ly short, or a se­ries of sim­ple loops in mam­mals in which the whole gut has a prim­itive dis­po­si­tion (e.g. Mar­su­pi­alia, fig. 6). In the odd-​toed Un­gu­la­ta, the colon (fig. 7) forms an enor­mous­ly long loop, the two limbs of which are close­ly ap­prox­imat­ed and the cal­ibre of which is very large. In Ru­mi­nan­tia (fig. 8) the colon is still more high­ly dif­fer­en­ti­at­ed, dis­play­ing first a sim­ple wide loop, then a com­pli­cat­ed watch­spring-​like coil, and fi­nal­ly a very long, ir­reg­ular por­tion. In the high­er Pri­mates (fig. 9) it forms one enor­mous very wide loop, cor­re­spond­ing to the as­cend­ing, trans­verse and de­scend­ing colons of hu­man anato­my, and a short­er dis­tal loop, the omega loop of hu­man anato­my. Oth­er strik­ing pat­terns are dis­played in oth­er mam­malian groups.

The sec­ond re­gion of the hind-​gut is usu­al­ly known as the rec­tum. and al­though it is some­times length­ened it is typ­ical­ly lit­tle longer than the por­tion of the prim­itive straight gut that it rep­re­sents.

FIG. 9.–In­testi­nal Tract of Go­ril­la. S, cut end of duo­de­num; R, cut end of rec­tum; C, ver­mi­form ap­pendix of cae­cum; X, X2, X3, cut ends of fac­tors of the por­tal vein.

Adap­ta­tions of the In­testi­nal Tract to Func­tion.–The chief busi­ness of the gut is to pro­vide a vas­cu­lar sur­face to which the pre­pared food is ap­plied so that the nu­tri­tive ma­te­ri­al may be ab­sorbed in­to the sys­tem. Over­ly­ing and some­times ob­scur­ing the mor­pho­log­ical pat­terns of the gut, are many mod­ifi­ca­tions cor­re­lat­ed with the na­ture of the food and pro­duc­ing ho­mo­plas­tic re­sem­blances in­de­pen­dent of ge­net­ic affin­ity. Thus in birds and mam­mals alike there is a di­rect as­so­ci­ation of her­biv­orous habit with great rel­ative length of gut. The ex­pla­na­tion of this, no doubt, is sim­ply that the veg­etable mat­ter which such crea­tures de­vour is in a form which re­quires not on­ly pro­longed di­ges­tive ac­tion, but, from the in­ti­mate ad­mix­ture of in­di­gestible ma­te­ri­al, a very large ab­sorb­ing sur­face. In pis­civ­orous birds and mam­mals, the gut is very long, with a thick wall and a rel­ative­ly small cal­ibre, whilst there is a gen­er­al ten­den­cy for the re­gions of the gut to be slight­ly or not at all de­fined. Fish, as it is eat­en by wild an­imals, con­tains a large bulk of in­di­gestible mat­ter, and so re­quires an ex­tend­ed ab­sorb­ing sur­face; the thick wall and rel­ative­ly small cal­ibre are pro­tec­tions against wound­ing by fish bones. In fru­giv­orous birds the gut is strik­ing­ly short, wide and sim­ple, whilst a sim­ilar change has not tak­en place in fru­giv­orous mam­mals. Car­niv­orous birds and mam­mals have a rel­ative­ly short gut. In birds, gen­er­al­ly, the re­la­tion of the length and cal­ibre of the gut to the size of the whole crea­ture is strik­ing. If two birds of sim­ilar habit and of the same group be com­pared, it will be found that the gut of the larg­er bird is rel­ative­ly longer rather than rel­ative­ly wider. The same gen­er­al rule ap­plies to Meck­el’s tract in mam­mals, where­as in the case of the hind-​gut in­crease of ca­pac­ity is giv­en by in­crease of cal­ibre rather than by in­creased length.

The Col­ic Cae­ca.–These or­gans lie at the junc­tion of the hind-​gut with Meck­el’s tract and are ho­mol­ogous in birds and mam­mals al­though it hap­pens that their ap­par­ent po­si­tion dif­fers in the ma­jor­ity of cas­es in the two groups. In most birds, the hind-​gut is rel­ative­ly very short, and the cae­cal po­si­tion, ac­cord­ing­ly, is at a very short dis­tance from the pos­te­ri­or end of the body. where­as in most mam­mals the hind-​gut is very long and the po­si­tion of the cae­cum or cae­ca is rel­ative­ly very much far­ther from the anus. Next, in most birds, the cae­ca when present are paired, where­as in most mam­mals there is on­ly a sin­gle cae­cum. On the oth­er hand, in cer­tain birds (herons) as a nor­mal oc­cur­rence, and in many birds as an in­di­vid­ual vari­ation, on­ly a sin­gle cae­cum oc­curs. In some mam­mals, e.g. many ar­madil­los, in Hyrax and the man­atee, the cae­ca are nor­mal­ly paired; in many oth­er (e.g. some ro­dents and mar­su­pi­als) in ad­di­tion to the nor­mal cae­cum there is a re­duced sec­ond cae­cum, whilst in quite a num­ber of forms the re­la­tion of the cae­cum, ileum and colon at their junc­tion is read­ily in­tel­li­gi­ble on the as­sump­tion that the cae­ca were orig­inal­ly paired. The ori­gin and many of the pe­cu­liar­ities of the ileo-​cae­cal valve find their best ex­pla­na­tion on this hy­poth­esis.

The cae­ca are hol­low out­growths of the wall of the gut, the blind ends be­ing di­rect­ed for­wards. The cae­cal wall is in most cas­es high­ly glan­du­lar and con­tains mass­es of lym­phoid tis­sue. In birds and in mam­mals this tis­sue may be so great­ly in­creased as to trans­form the cae­cum in­to a sol­id or near­ly sol­id sac, the cal­ibre of which is for the most part small­er than that of the un­mod­ified cae­cum. In some birds, the whole area of the cae­cum may be mod­ified in this way; in mam­mals, it is gen­er­al­ly the ter­mi­nal por­tion, which then be­comes the ver­mi­form ap­pendix, fa­mil­iar in the an­thro­poid apes, in man and in some ro­dents. It is dif­fi­cult to see in this mod­ifi­ca­tion mere­ly a de­gen­er­ation; not im­prob­ably it is the for­ma­tion of a new glan­du­lar or­gan.

The cae­ca ex­hib­it al­most ev­ery gra­da­tion of de­vel­op­ment, from rel­ative­ly enor­mous size to com­plete ab­sence, and there is no def­inite, in­vari­able con­nex­ion be­tween the na­ture of the food and the de­gree of their de­vel­op­ment. In the case of birds, it may be said that on the whole the cae­ca are gen­er­al­ly large in her­biv­orous forms and gen­er­al­ly small in in­sec­tiv­orous, fru­giv­orous, car­niv­orous and pis­civ­orous forms, but there are many ex­cep­tions. Thus, owls and fal­cons have a di­et that is close­ly sim­ilar, and yet owls have a pair of very long cae­ca, whilst in the Fal­conidae these or­gans are much re­duced and ap­par­ent­ly func­tion­less. The in­sec­tiv­orous and om­niv­orous rollers, mot­mots and bee-​eaters have a pair of large cae­ca, whilst in passer­ine birds of sim­ilar habit the cae­ca are ves­ti­gial glan­du­lar nip­ples. It is im­pos­si­ble to doubt that fam­ily his­to­ry dom­inates in this mat­ter. Cer­tain fam­ilies tend to re­tain the cae­ca, oth­ers to lose them, and di­rect adap­ta­tion to di­et ap­pears on­ly to ac­cel­er­ate or re­tard these in­her­it­ed ten­den­cies. So al­so in mam­mals, no more than a gen­er­al re­la­tion be­tween di­et and cae­cal de­vel­op­ment can be shown to ex­ist, al­though the large size of the sin­gle cae­cum of mam­mals is more close­ly as­so­ci­at­ed with a her­biv­orous as op­posed to a car­niv­orous, fru­giv­orous, pis­civ­orous or om­niv­orous di­et than is the case in birds. There is no re­la­tion­ship be­tween di­et and the com­plete or par­tial pres­ence of both mem­bers of the pri­mi-​pair of cae­ca in mam­mals, the oc­cur­rence of the pair be­ing rather an “ac­ci­dent” of in­her­itance than in any di­rect re­la­tion to func­tion.

LIT­ER­ATURE.–T. W. Bridge, in The Cam­bridge Nat­ural His­to­ry (vol. vii).; D. S. Jor­dan, A Guide to the Study of Fish­es; R. Owen, Anato­my of Ver­te­brates; M. We­ber, Die Saugeth­iere; W. H. Flow­er, The Or­gans of Di­gestien in Mam­malia; R. Wieder­sheim, Lehrbuch der ver­gle­ichen­den Anatomie der Wirbelth­iere; A. Op­pel, Lehrbuch der ver­gle­ichen­den mikroskopis­chen Anatomie der Wirbelth­iere; Chalmers Mitchell, “The In­testi­nal Tract of Birds,” Trans­ac­tions of the Linn. Soc. of Lon­don (vol. vi­ii., 1901); and “On the In­testi­nal Tract of Mam­mals,” Trans­ac­tions of the Zo­ol. Soc. of Lon­don (vol. xvii., 1905). (In the two lat­ter mem­oirs a fuller list of lit­er­ature is giv­en.) (P. C. M.)

AL­IMO­NY (from Lat. afere, to nour­ish), in law the al­lowance for main­te­nance to which a wife is en­ti­tled out of her hus­band’s es­tate for her sup­port on a de­cree for ju­di­cial sep­ara­tion or for the dis­so­lu­tion of the mar­riage. Though, as a rule, payable to a wife, it may, if the cir­cum­stances of the case war­rant it, be payable by the wife to the hus­band. Al­imo­ny is of two kinds, (a) tem­po­rary (pen­dente lite), and (b) per­ma­nent. Tem­po­rary al­imo­ny, or al­imo­ny pend­ing suit, is the pro­vi­sion made by the hus­band for the wife in caus­es be­tween them to en­able her to live dur­ing the progress of the suit, and is al­lowed whether the suit is by or against the hus­band and what­ev­er the na­ture of the suit may be. The usu­al En­glish prac­tice is to al­lot as tem­po­rary al­imo­ny about one-​fifth of the hus­band’s net in­come; where it ap­pears that the hus­band has no means or is in in­sol­vent cir­cum­stances, the court will refuse to al­lot tem­po­rary al­imo­ny. So where the wife is sup­port­ing her­self by her own earn­ings, this fact will be tak­en in­to con­sid­er­ation. And where the wife and hus­band have lived apart for many years be­fore the in­sti­tu­tion of the suit, and she has sup­port­ed her­self dur­ing the sep­ara­tion, no al­imo­ny will be al­lot­ted. Nor will the wife be en­ti­tled to al­imo­ny where she has suf­fi­cient means of sup­port in­de­pen­dent of her hus­band. Per­ma­nent al­imo­ny is that which is al­lot­ted to the wife af­ter fi­nal de­cree. By the Mat­ri­mo­ni­al Caus­es Act 1907, the court may, if it think fit, on any de­cree for dis­so­lu­tion or nul­li­ty of mar­riage, or­der that the hus­band shall, to the sat­is­fac­tion of the court, se­cure to the wife such a gross sum of mon­ey or such an­nu­al sum of mon­ey for any term not ex­ceed­ing her life, as hav­ing re­gard to her for­tune (if any), to the abil­ity of her hus­band, and to the con­duct of the par­ties, it may deem rea­son­able. The court may sus­pend the pro­nounc­ing of its de­cree un­til a prop­er deed or in­stru­ment has been ex­ecut­ed by all nec­es­sary par­ties. The court may al­so make an or­der on the hus­band for pay­ment to the wife dur­ing their joint lives of a rea­son­able month­ly or week­ly sum for her main­te­nance; the court may al­so at any time dis­charge, mod­ify, sus­pend or in­crease the or­der ac­cord­ing to the al­tered means of the hus­band; the court has al­so pow­er to make pro­vi­sion for chil­dren. Al­imo­ny is paid di­rect to the wife or to a trustee or trustees on her be­half, but the court may im­pose any re­stric­tions which seem ex­pe­di­ent. We may al­so de­scribe as a kind of al­imo­ny the al­lowance of a rea­son­able week­ly sum not ex­ceed­ing L. 2 which in Eng­land, un­der the Sum­ma­ry Ju­ris­dic­tion (Mar­ried Wom­en) Act 1895, may be giv­en to a mar­ried wom­an on ap­ply­ing to a court of sum­ma­ry ju­ris­dic­tion if she has been forced by cru­el­ty to leave her hus­band or has been de­sert­ed by him.

Unit­ed States.–Al­imo­ny is grant­ed by the courts of the sev­er­al states on much the same prin­ci­ple as in Eng­land, though in many states the courts of eq­ui­ty as such may grant al­imo­ny with­out di­vorce or sep­ara­tion pro­ceed­ings in­de­pen­dent­ly of any statute, on the ground that it is just that the hus­band should sup­port his wife when she lives apart from him for his fault, and since the courts of com­mon law pro­vide no rem­edy the courts of eq­ui­ty will. This is so in Al­aba­ma (Brady v. Brady, 1905, 39 So. Rep. 237), Ken­tucky, North Car­oli­na, Iowa, Cal­ifor­nia, Ohio, Vir­ginia, South Dako­ta and the Dis­trict of Columbia. In oth­er states al­imo­ny with­out such pro­ceed­ings is al­lowed by statute, and such al­imo­ny is now very gen­er­al through­out the Unit­ed States. The usu­al grounds for the al­lowance of it are de­ser­tion and such con­duct as would amount to le­gal cru­el­ty. Af­ter di­vorce a vin­cu­lo, al­imo­ny or sep­arate main­te­nance is some­times grant­ed on good rea­son. The mar­riage must be proven as a fact, but a “com­mon law” mar­riage, i.e. one es­tab­lished by co­hab­ita­tion and re­pute, is suf­fi­cient. In sev­er­al states al­imo­ny or main­te­nance is by statute al­lowed to the hus­band in cer­tain cas­es out of the wife’s prop­er­ty. This is so in Mas­sachusetts, Vir­ginia, Rhode Is­land and Iowa. In Ore­gon he is en­ti­tled to one-​third of his wife’s re­al es­tate in ad­di­tion to main­te­nance on di­vorce for her fault. The amount of al­imo­ny de­pends up­on the cir­cum­stances of each case as in Eng­land. Per­ma­nent al­imo­ny is gen­er­al­ly more than when pen­den­ite lite, and usu­al­ly one-​third the hus­band’s in­come. It may gen­er­al­ly be changed from time to time as the cir­cum­stances of the par­ties change. Judg­ment for al­imo­ny is con­sid­ered a judg­ment in per­son­am and not in rem, and can on­ly be en­forced out­side the state where ren­dered in case the hus­band has been per­son­al­ly served with pro­cess with­in that state. The re­mar­riage of the man is not suf­fi­cient ground for re­duc­ing the al­imo­ny (Smith v. Smith, 1905, 102 N.W. Rep. 631), but on re­mar­riage of a wom­an to one able to sup­port her, her for­mer hus­band be­ing in poor cir­cum­stances, it will be re­duced (Ki­ral­fy v. Ki­ral­fy, 1901, 36 Wisc. N.S. 407).

ALIN, OS­CAR JOSEF (1846–1900), Swedish his­to­ri­an and politi­cian, was born at Falun on the 22nd of De­cem­ber 1846. In 1872 he be­came do­cent, and in 1882 pro­fes­sor of po­lit­ical econ­omy at Up­sala, of which uni­ver­si­ty he was af­ter­wards rec­tor. In Septem­ber 1888 he was elect­ed a mem­ber of the first cham­ber of the Riks­dag, where he at­tached him­self to the con­ser­va­tive pro­tec­tion­ist par­ty, over which, from the first, he ex­er­cised great au­thor­ity. But it is as a his­to­ri­an that Alin is most re­mark­able. Among his nu­mer­ous works the fol­low­ing are es­pe­cial­ly wor­thy of note: Bidrag till sven­ska radets his­to­ria un­der. medelti­den (Up­sala, 1872); Sveriges His­to­ria, 1511-1611 (Stock­holm, 1878); Bidrag till sven­ska stat­srick­ets his­to­ria (Stock­holm, 1884-1887); Den sven­sk-​norsk Unio­nen (Stock­holm, 1889-1891), the best book on the Nor­wego-​Swedish Union ques­tion from the Swedish point of view; Fjerde Ar­tiklen af Fred­strak­tat­en i Kiel (Stock­holm, 1899); Carl Jo­han och Sveriges yt­tre poli­tik, 1810-1815 (Stock­holm, 1899); Carl XIV. och Rikets Stander, 1840-1841 (Stock­holm, 1893). He al­so edit­ed Sveniska Riks­dagsak­ter, 1521-1554 (Stock­holm, 1887), in con­junc­tion with E. Hilde­brand, and Sveriges Grund­la­gar (Stock­holm, 1892). He died at Up­sala on the 31st of De­cem­ber 1900.

Obit­uary no­tice in Sv. Hist. Tidssk. (1901). (R. N. B.)

ALIPUR, a sub­urb of Cal­cut­ta, con­tain­ing Belvedere House, the of­fi­cial res­idence of the lieu­tenant-​gov­er­nor of Ben­gal, and a num­ber of hand­some man­sions. It lies with­in the lim­its of the south sub­ur­ban mu­nic­ipal­ity, and is a can­ton­ment of na­tive troops. On the Cal­cut­ta maid­an, op­po­site Alipur Bridge, stood two trees un­der which du­els were fought. It was here that the meet­ing in 1780 be­tween War­ren Hast­ings and Sir Philip Fran­cis took place.

ALIQUOT (a Lat. word mean­ing “some,” “so many”), a term gen­er­al­ly oc­cur­ring in the phrase “aliquot part,” and mean­ing that one quan­ti­ty is ex­act­ly di­vis­ible in­to an­oth­er; thus 3 is an aliquot part of 6.

ALI­RA­JPUR, a na­tive state of In­dia, un­der the Bhopawar agen­cy in Cen­tral In­dia. It lies in Mal­wa, near the fron­tier of Bom­bay. It has an area of 836 sq. m.; and a pop­ula­tion (1901) of 50,185. The coun­try is hilly, and many of the in­hab­itants are abo­rig­inal Bhils. It has from time to time been un­der British ad­min­is­tra­tion. The chief, whose ti­tle is Rana, is a Rah­tor Ra­jput. He has an es­ti­mat­ed rev­enue of L. 8700, and pays a trib­ute of L. 700. The Vic­to­ria bridge at Ali­ra­jpur was built to com­mem­orate the Di­amond Ju­bilee of 1897.

AL­IS­MACEAE (from the Gr. al­is­ma, a wa­ter-​plant men­tioned by Dioscorides), in botany, a nat­ural or­der of mono­cotyle­dons be­long­ing to the se­ries Helo­bieae, and rep­re­sent­ed in Britain by the wa­ter plan­tain, Al­is­ma Plan­ta­go, the ar­row-​head, Sagit­taria, the star-​fruit, Dama­so­ni­um, and flow­er­ing rush, Bu­to­mus (from the Gr. bous, ox, tem­nein, to cut, in al­lu­sion to leaves cut­ting the tongues of ox­en feed­ing on them). They are marsh- or wa­ter-​plants with gen­er­al­ly a stout stem (rhi­zome) creep­ing in the mud, rad­ical leaves and a large, much branched in­flo­res­cence. The leaves show a great va­ri­ety in shape, of­ten

FIG. 1.–Flow­er­ing Rush (Bu­to­mus um­bel­la­tus.) 1, Flow­er in ver­ti­cal sec­tion; 2, hor­izon­tal plan of ar­range­ment of flow­er.

the same plant, ac­cord­ing to their po­si­tion in, on or above the wa­ter. The sub­merged leaves are long and grass- like, the float­ing leaves ob­long or round­ed, while the aeri­al leaves are borne on long, thin stalks above the wa­ter, and are of­ten heart- or ar­row-​shaped at the base. The flow­er-​bear­ing stem is tall; the flow­ers are borne in whorls on the ax­is as in ar­row-​head, on whorled branch­lets as in wa­ter plan­tain or in an um­bel as in Bu­to­mus (fig. 1). The flow­ers are reg­ular and rather showy, gen­er­al­ly with three green­ish sepa­ls, fol­lowed in reg­ular suc­ces­sion by three white or pur­plish petals, six to in­def­inite sta­mens and six to in­def­inite free carpels. The flo­ral ar­range­ment thus re­calls that of a but­ter­cup, a re­sem­blance which ex­tends to the fruit, which is a head of ach­enes or fol­li­cles. The flow­ers con­tain hon­ey, and at­tract flies, short-​lipped bees or oth­er small in­sects by the agen­cy of which pol­li­na­tion is ef­fect­ed. The fruit of Bu­to­mus is of in­ter­est in hav­ing the seeds borne over the in­ner face of the wall of the leath­ery pod (fol­li­cle). Dama­so­ni­um de­rives its pop­ular name, star-​fruit, from the fruits spread­ing when ripe in the form of a star. It is a west­ern

FIG. 2.–Wa­ter Plan­tain (Al­is­ma Plan­ta­go.) Plant about 3 ft. high. 1, Flow­er; 2, same in ver­ti­cal sec­tion; 3, hor­izon­tal plan of flow­er; 4, ma­ture fruit.

Mediter­ranean plant which spreads to the south of Eng­land, where it is some­times found in grav­el­ly ditch­es and pools. The or­der con­tains about fifty species in four­teen gen­era, and is wide­ly dis­tribut­ed in tem­per­ate and warm zones. Al­is­ma Plan­ta­go (fig. 2), a com­mon plant in Britain (ex­cept in the north) in ditch­es and edges of streams, is wide­ly dis­tribut­ed in the north tem­per­ate zone, and is found in the Hi­malayas, on the moun­tains of trop­ical Africa and in Aus­tralia.

AL­ISON, ARCHIBALD (1757-1839), Scot­tish au­thor, son of Patrick Al­ison, provost of Ed­in­burgh, was born on the 13th of Novem­ber 1757 at Ed­in­burgh. Af­ter study­ing at the uni­ver­si­ty of Glas­gow and at Bal­li­ol Col­lege, Ox­ford, he took or­ders in the Church of Eng­land, and was ap­point­ed in 1778 to the cu­ra­cy of Bran­cepeth, near Durham. In 1784 he mar­ried Dorothea, youngest daugh­ter of Pro­fes­sor Gre­go­ry of Ed­in­burgh. The next twen­ty years of his life were spent in Shrop­shire, where he held in suc­ces­sion the liv­ings of High Er­call, Rod­ding­ton and Ken­ley. In 1800 he re­moved to Ed­in­burgh, hav­ing been ap­point­ed se­nior in­cum­bent of St Paul’s Chapel in the Cow­gate. For thir­ty-​four years he filled this po­si­tion with much abil­ity, his preach­ing at­tract­ing so many hear­ers that a new and larg­er church was built for him. His last years were spent at Col­in­ton, near Ed­in­burgh, where he died on the 17th of May 1839. Al­ison pub­lished, be­sides a Life of Lord Wood­house­lee, a vol­ume of ser­mons, which passed through sev­er­al edi­tions, and a work en­ti­tled Es­says on the Na­ture and Prin­ci­ples of Taste (1790), based on the prin­ci­ple of as­so­ci­ation (see un­der AES­THET­ICS, p. 288). His el­der son, Dr Wil­ham Pul­teney Al­ison (1790-1859), was a dis­tin­guished Ed­in­burgh med­ical pro­fes­sor.

SIR ARCHIBALD AL­ISON, Bart. (1792-1867), the his­to­ri­an, was the younger son, and was born at Ken­ley, Shrop­shire, on the 29th of De­cem­ber 1792. He stud­ied at the uni­ver­si­ty of Ed­in­burgh, dis­tin­guish­ing him­self es­pe­cial­ly in Greek and math­emat­ics. In 1814 he passed at the Scot­tish bar, but he did not at once prac­tise. The close of the war had opened up the con­ti­nent, and Al­ison set out in the au­tumn of 1814 for a length­ened tour in France. It was dur­ing this pe­ri­od that the idea of writ­ing his his­to­ry first oc­curred to him. A more im­me­di­ate re­sult of the tour was his first lit­er­ary work of any im­por­tance, Trav­els in France dur­ing the Years 1814-1815, writ­ten in col­lab­ora­tion with his broth­er and A. F. Tytler, which ap­peared in the lat­ter year. On his re­turn to Ed­in­burgh he prac­tised at the bar for some years with very fair suc­cess. In 1822 he be­came one of the four ad­vo­cates-​de­pute for Scot­land. As a re­sult of the ex­pe­ri­ence gained in this of­fice, which he held un­til 1830, he wrote his Prin­ci­ples of the Crim­inal Law of Scot­land (1832) and Prac­tice of the Crim­inal Law of Scot­land (1833), which in 1834 led to his ap­point­ment by Sir Robert Peel to the of­fice of sher­iff of La­nark­shire, which ranks next to a judge­ship in the supreme court. The of­fice, though by no means a sinecure, gave him time not on­ly to make fre­quent con­tri­bu­tions to pe­ri­od­ical lit­er­ature, but al­so to write the long-​pro­ject­ed His­to­ry of Eu­rope, for which he had been col­lect­ing ma­te­ri­als for more than fif­teen years. The his­to­ry of the pe­ri­od from the be­gin­ning of the French Rev­olu­tion till the restora­tion of the Bour­bons in 1815 was com­plet­ed in ten vol­umes in 1842, and met with a suc­cess al­most un­ex­am­pled in works of its class. With­in a few years it ran through ten edi­tions, and was trans­lat­ed in­to many of the lan­guages of Eu­rope, as well as in­to Ara­bic and Hin­dus­tani. At the time of the au­thor’s death it was stat­ed that 108,000 vol­umes of the li­brary edi­tion and 439,000 vol­umes of the pop­ular edi­tion had been sold. A pop­ular­ity so widespread must have had some ba­sis of mer­it, and the good qual­ities of Al­ison’s work lie up­on the sur­face. It brought to­geth­er, though not al­ways in a well-​ar­ranged form, an im­mense amount of in­for­ma­tion that had be­fore been prac­ti­cal­ly in­ac­ces­si­ble to the gen­er­al pub­lic. It at least made an at­tempt to show the or­gan­ic con­nex­ion in the pol­icy and progress of the dif­fer­ent na­tions of Eu­rope; and its de­scrip­tions of what may be called ex­ter­nal his­to­ry–of bat­tles, sieges and state pageants–are spir­it­ed and in­ter­est­ing. On the oth­er hand the faults of the work are nu­mer­ous and glar­ing. The gen­er­al style is pro­lix, in­volved and vi­cious; mis­takes of fact and false de­duc­tions are to be found in al­most ev­ery page; and the con­stant rep­eti­tion of trite moral re­flec­tions and ego­tis­ti­cal ref­er­ences se­ri­ous­ly de­tracts from its dig­ni­ty. A more grave de­fect re­sult­ed from the au­thor’s strong po­lit­ical par­ti­san­ship, which en­tire­ly un­fit­ted him for deal­ing with the prob­lems of his­to­ry in a philo­soph­ical spir­it. His un­bend­ing To­ry­ism made it im­pos­si­ble for him to give any sat­is­fac­to­ry ex­pla­na­tion of so com­plex a fact as the French Rev­olu­tion, or ac­cu­rate­ly to es­ti­mate the forces that were to shape the Eu­rope of the 19th cen­tu­ry. A con­tin­ua­tion of the His­to­ry, em­brac­ing the pe­ri­od from 1815 to 1852, which was com­plet­ed in four vol­umes in 1856, did not meet with the same suc­cess as the ear­li­er work. The pe­ri­od be­ing so near as to be al­most con­tem­po­rary, there was a stronger temp­ta­tion, which he seems to have found it im­pos­si­ble to re­sist, to yield to po­lit­ical prej­udice, while the ma­te­ri­als nec­es­sary for a clear knowl­edge of the in­flu­ences shap­ing Eu­ro­pean af­fairs were not as yet ac­ces­si­ble. The book is now al­most whol­ly out of date. In 1845 Al­ison was cho­sen rec­tor of Marischal Col­lege, Ab­erdeen, and in 1851 of Glas­gow Uni­ver­si­ty. In 1852 a baronet­cy was con­ferred up­on him, and in the fol­low­ing year he was made a D.C.L. of Ox­ford. His lit­er­ary ac­tiv­ity con­tin­ued till with­in a short time of his death, the chief works he pub­lished in ad­di­tion to his His­to­ry be­ing the Prin­ci­ples of Pop­ula­tion (1840), in an­swer to Malthus; a Life of Marl­bor­ough (1847, 2nd edi­tion great­ly en­larged, 1852); and the Lives of Lord Castlereagh and Sir C. Stew­art (1861.) This lat­ter, based on MS. ma­te­ri­al pre­served at Wyn­yard Park, is still of val­ue, not on­ly as the on­ly avail­able bi­og­ra­phy, but more es­pe­cial­ly be­cause Al­ison’s To­ry sym­pa­thies en­abled him to give a juster ap­pre­ci­ation of the char­ac­ter and work of Castlereagh than the Lib­er­al writ­ers by whom for many years he was mis­judged and con­demned (see LON­DON­DER­RY, Robert Stew­art, 2nd mar­quess of). Three vol­umes of Al­ison’s po­lit­ical, his­tor­ical and mis­cel­la­neous es­says were reprint­ed in 1850. He died at Pos­sil House, Glaagow, on the 23rd of May 1867. His au­to­bi­og­ra­phy, Some Ac­count of my Li/e and Writ­ings, edit­ed by his daugh­ter-​in-​law, La­dy Al­ison, was pub­lished in 1883 at Ed­in­burgh. Sir Archibald Al­ison mar­ried in 1825 Eliz­abeth Glen­cairn, daugh­ter of Colonel Tytler, by whom he had three chil­dren, Archibald, Fred­er­ick and Eliza Frances Cather­ine. Both sons be­came dis­tin­guished of­fi­cers.

SIR ARCHIBALD AL­ISON, Bart. (1826-1907), the el­der of the sons, en­tered the 72nd High­landers in 1846. He served at the siege of Sev­astopol; and dur­ing the In­di­an Mutiny he was mil­itary sec­re­tary to Sir Col­in Camp­bell and was severe­ly wound­ed at the re­lief of Luc­know, los­ing an arm. From 1862 to 1873 he was as­sis­tant ad­ju­tant-​gen­er­al at head­quar­ters, Portsmouth and Alder­shot. He was sec­ond in com­mand of the Ashan­ti ex­pe­di­tion 1873-1874, and was made a K.C.B. For three years Al­ison was deputy ad­ju­tant-​gen­er­al in Ire­land, and then, for a few months, com­man­dant of the Staff Col­lege. He was pro­mot­ed to be ma­jor-​gen­er­al in 1877, and was head of the in­tel­li­gence branch of the war of­fice (1878-1882). He com­mand­ed the troops at Alexan­dria in 1882 un­til the ar­rival of Sir Gar­net Wolse­ley, led the High­land brigade at the bat­tle of Tel-​el-​Ke­bir, and re­mained in com­mand of the army of oc­cu­pa­tion un­til 1883. He com­mand­ed at Alder­shot 1883-1888, was for some months ad­ju­tant-​gen­er­al to the forces dur­ing Lord Wolse­ley’s ab­sence in Egypt, was made G.C.B. in 1887, was pro­mot­ed gen­er­al, and be­came a mil­itary mem­ber of the Coun­cil of In­dia in 1889. He re­tired in 1893 and died in 1907.

ALI­WAL, a vil­lage of British In­dia, in the Lud­hi­ana dis­trict of the Pun­jab, sit­uat­ed on the left bank of the Sut­lej, and fa­mous as the scene of one of the great bat­tles of the 1st Sikh War. Late in Jan­uary 1846 it was held by Ran­jur Singh, who had crossed the riv­er in force and threat­ened Lud­hi­ana. On the 28th Sir Har­ry Smith, with a view to clear­ing the left or British bank, at­tacked him, and af­ter a des­per­ate strug­gle thrice pierced the Sikh troops with his cav­al­ry, and pushed them in­to the riv­er, where large num­bers per­ished, leav­ing 67 guns to the vic­tors. The con­se­quence of the vic­to­ry was the sub­mis­sion of the whole ter­ri­to­ry east of the Sut­lej to the British.

ALI­WAL NORTH, a town of South Africa, on the south bank of the Or­ange Riv­er, 4300 ft. above the sea, and 282 m. by rail N.W. by N. of the port of East Lon­don. Pop. (1904) 5566, of whom 1758 were whites. The town, a trad­ing and agri­cul­tur­al cen­tre for the N.E. part of the Cape and the neigh­bour­ing re­gions of Ba­su­toland and Or­ange Free State, presents a pleas­ing ap­pear­ance. It con­tains many fine stone build­ings. The streets are lined with trees, and wa­ter from the neigh­bour­ing sul­phur springs flows along them in open chan­nels. The riv­er, here the bound­ary be­tween the Cape province and Or­ange Free State, is crossed by a stone bridge 860 ft. long. The sul­phur springs, 1 m. from the town, which yield over 500,000 gal­lons dai­ly, are re­sort­ed to for the cure of rheuma­tism and skin dis­eases. By rea­son of its dry and brac­ing cli­mate, Ali­wal North is al­so a favourite res­idence of suf­fer­ers from chest com­plaints. In the neigh­bour­hood are stone quar­ries. Ali­wal North is the cap­ital of a di­vi­sion of the province of the same name, with an area of 1330 sq. m. and a pop. (1904) of 14,857, of whom 40% are whites.

Ali­wal North was so called to dis­tin­guish it from Ali­wal South, now Mos­sel Bay, the sea­port of the pas­toral Grasveld dis­trict, on the west side of Mos­sel Bay. Both places were named in hon­our of Sir Har­ry Smith, gov­er­nor of Cape Colony 1847-1852, Ali­wal (see above) be­ing the vil­lage in the Pun­jab where in 1846 he gained a great Vic­to­ry over the Sikhs. Cross­ing the Or­ange Riv­er at this spot in Septem­ber 1848, Sir Har­ry not­ed that it was “a beau­ti­ful site for a town,” and in the May fol­low­ing the town was found­ed. In the ear­ly months of the Boer War of 1899-1902 Ali­wal North was held by the Boers. It was re­oc­cu­pied by the British in March 1900.

ALIZARIN, or 1.2 DIOXYAN­THRAQUINONE,

/CO\ C6H4 C6H2(OH)2[1.2], \CO/ a veg­etable dyestuff for­mer­ly pre­pared from mad­der root (Ru­bia tinc­to­rum) which con­tains a glu­co­side ru­bery­thric acid (C26H28O14). This glu­co­side is read­ily hy­drol­ysed by acids or fer­ments, break­ing up in­to alizarin and glu­cose:

C26H28O14 + 2H2O = 2C6H12O6 + C14H8O4 Ru­bery­thric acid = Glu­cose + Alizarin. Alizarin was known to the an­cients, and un­til 1868 was ob­tained en­tire­ly from mad­der root. The first step in the syn­thet­ical pro­duc­tion of alizarin was the dis­cov­ery in 1868 of C. Graebe and C. Lieber­mann that on heat­ing with zinc dust, alizarin was con­vert­ed in­to an­thracene. In or­der to syn­the­size alizarin, they con­vert­ed an­thracene in­to an­thraquinone and then bromi­nat­ed the quinone. The di­bromi­nat­ed prod­uct so ob­tained was then fused with caus­tic potash, the melt dis­solved in wa­ter, and on the ad­di­tion of hy­drochlo­ric acid to the so­lu­tion, alizarin was pre­cip­itat­ed. This pro­cess, ow­ing to its ex­pen­sive na­ture, was not in use very long, be­ing su­per­seded by an­oth­er, dis­cov­ered si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly by the above-​named chemists and by Sir W. H. Perkin; the method be­ing to sulphonate an­thraquinone, and then to con­vert the sul­phon­ic acid in­to its sodi­um salt and fuse this with caus­tic so­da.

In prac­tice, the crude an­thracene is pu­ri­fied by so­lu­tion in the high­er pyri­dine bases, af­ter which treat­ment it is fre­quent­ly sub­limed. It is then ox­idized to an­thraquinone by means of sodi­um dichro­mate and sul­phuric acid in lead­en vats, steam heat­ed so that the mix­ture can be brought to the boil. When ox­ida­tion is com­plete the crude an­thraquinone is sep­arat­ed in fil­ter press­es and heat­ed with an ex­cess of com­mer­cial oil of vit­ri­ol to 120 deg. C., the var­ious im­pu­ri­ties present in the crude ma­te­ri­al be­ing sulphonat­ed and ren­dered sol­uble in wa­ter, whilst the an­thraquinone is un­af­fect­ed; it is then washed, to re­move im­pu­ri­ties, and dried. The an­thraquinone so ob­tained is then heat­ed for some hours at about 150-160 deg. C. with fum­ing sul­phuric acid (con­tain­ing about 40-50% SO3), and by this treat­ment is con­vert­ed in­to an­thraquinone-​b-​mono­sul­phon­ic acid. The so­lu­tion is poured in­to wa­ter and sodi­um car­bon­ate is added to neu­tral­ize the ex­cess of acid, when the sodi­um salt of the mono­sul­phon­ic acid (known as sil­ver salt) sep­arates out This is fil­tered, washed, and then fused with caus­tic so­da, when the sulpho-​group is re­placed by a hy­drox­yl group, and a sec­ond hy­drox­yl group is si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly formed; in or­der to ren­der the for­ma­tion of this sec­ond group eas­ier, a lit­tle potas­si­um chlo­rate or sodi­um ni­trate is added to the re­ac­tion mix­ture. The melt is dis­solved in wa­ter and the dyestuff is lib­er­at­ed from the sodi­um salt by hy­drochlo­ric or sul­phuric acid, or is con­vert­ed in­to the cal­ci­um salt by di­ges­tion with hot milk of lime, then fil­tered and the cal­ci­um salt de­com­posed by acid. The pre­cip­itat­ed alizarin is then well washed and made in­to a paste with wa­ter, in which form it is put on to the mar­ket.

K. Lagodzin­ski (Berichte, 1895, 28, p. 1427) has syn­the­sized alizarin by con­dens­ing hemip­inic acid [(CH3O)2C6H2(COOH)2] with ben­zene in the pres­ence of alu­mini­um chlo­ride. The prod­uct on acid­ifi­ca­tion gives a com­pound C15H12O5.H2O which is prob­ably an oxy-​methoxy-​ben­zoyl ben­zoic acid. This is dis­solved in cold con­cen­trat­ed sul­phuric acid, in which it forms a yel­low­ish red so­lu­tion, but on heat­ing to 100 deg. C. the colour changes to red and vi­olet, and on pour­ing out up­on ice, the monomethyl ether of alizarin is pre­cip­itat­ed. This com­pound is hy­drol­ysed by hy­dri­od­ic acid and alizarin is ob­tained. It can al­so be syn­the­sized by heat­ing cat­echol with ph­thal­ic an­hy­dride and sul­phuric acid at 150 deg. C.

/CO\ /CO\ C6H4 O + C6H4(OH)2[1.2] = H2O + C6H4 C6H2(OH)2. \CO/ \CO/

Pure alizarin crys­tal­lizes in red prisms melt­ing at 200 deg. C. It is in­sol­uble in wa­ter, and not very sol­uble in al­co­hol. It dis­solves read­ily in caus­tic al­ka­lis on ac­count of its phe­no­lic char­ac­ter, and it forms a yel­low-​coloured di-​ac­etate. Its val­ue as a dyestuff de­pends on its pow­er of form­ing in­sol­uble com­pounds (lakes) with metal­lic ox­ides. It has no affin­ity for veg­etable fi­bres, and con­se­quent­ly cot­ton goods must be mor­dant­ed be­fore dye­ing with it (see DYE­ING.)

Nu­mer­ous deriva­tives of alizarin are known. On so­lu­tion in glacial acetic acid and ad­di­tion of ni­tric acid, b-​ni­troalizarin

OH | (alizarin or­ange) / \ /CO\ / \OH | | | | \ / \CO/ \ /NO2

is pro­duced, and this on heat­ing with sul­phuric acid and glyc­erin is con­vert­ed in­to alizarin blue.

The tri­oxyan­thraquinones–pur­purin, an­thra­pur­purin, an­thra­gal­lol and flavop­ur­purin—are al­so very valu­able dyestuffs. These com­pounds may be rep­re­sent­ed by the fol­low­ing for­mu­lae:

OH OH OH OH | | | | / \ /CO\ / \OH HO/ \ /CO\ / \OH / \ /CO\ / \OH / \ /CO\ / \OH | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | \ / \CO/ \ / \ / \CO/ \ / HO\ / \CO/ \ / \ / \CO/ \ /OH | OH Pur­purin. An­thra­pur­purin. Flavop­ur­purin. An­thra­gal­lol.

Pur­purin (1.2.4 tri­oxyan­thraquinone) is found with alizarin in mad­der root; it is now pre­pared syn­thet­ical­ly by ox­idiz­ing alizarin with man­ganese diox­ide and sul­phuric acid. Af­ter the sep­ara­tion of the sil­ver salt (see above) ob­tained on sulphonat­ing an­thraquinone, the re­main­ing acid liq­uid gives on treat­ment with cal­ci­um car­bon­ate the cal­ci­um salt of an­thraquinone 2.6 disul­phon­ic acid (an­thraquinone- a-​disul­phon­ic acid). This is con­vert­ed in­to the sodi­um salt by means of sodi­um car­bon­ate, and on al­ka­li fu­sion yields fi­avop­ur­purin. In a sim­ilar man­ner an­thra­pur­purin is pre­pared by al­ka­li fu­sion of an­thraquinone 2.8 disul­phon­ic acid. An­thra­gal­lol is syn­thet­ical­ly pre­pared by the con­den­sa­tion of ben­zoic and gal­lic acids with sul­phuric acid

OH OH | | / \COOH / \OH / \ /CO\ / \OH | | + | | = 2 H2O + | | | | \ / HOOC\ /OH \ / \CO/ \ /OH

or from py­ro­gal­lol and ph­thal­ic an­hy­dride in the pres­ence of sul­phuric acid or zinc chlo­ride.

A. Baey­er in 1890, by heat­ing alizarin with fum­ing sul­phuric acid for 24-48 hours at 35-40 deg. C., ob­tained a prod­uct, which af­ter treat­ment with caus­tic so­da gave a sul­phuric acid es­ter of quinalizarin, and this af­ter acid­ifi­ca­tion and boil­ing was con­vert­ed in­to quinalizarin (Alizarin Bor­deaux) or 1.2.6.9 tetra-​oxyan­thraquinone. Pen­ta-​oxyan­thraquinones have been ob­tained from pur­purin and an­thra­pur­purin, while a hexa- oxyan­thraquinone has been ob­tained from 1.5 dini­tro- an­thraquinone.

ALKA­HEST (a pseu­do-​Ara­bic word be­lieved to have been in­vent­ed by Paracel­sus), a liq­uid, much sought af­ter by the al­chemists, hav­ing the pow­er of dis­solv­ing gold and ev­ery oth­er sub­stance, which it was sup­posed would pos­sess in­valu­able medic­inal qual­ities.

AL­KA­LI, an Ara­bic term orig­inal­ly ap­plied to the ash­es of plants, from which by lix­ivi­ation car­bon­ate of so­da was ob­tained in the case of sea-​plants and car­bon­ate of potash in that of land-​plants. The method of mak­ing these “mild” al­ka­lis in­to “caus­tic” al­ka­lis by treat­ment with lime was prac­tised in the time of Pliny in con­nex­ion with the man­ufac­ture of soap, and it was al­so known that the ash­es of shore-​plants yield­ed a hard soap and those of land-​plants a soft one. But the two sub­stances were gen­er­al­ly con­found­ed as “fixed al­ka­li” (car­bon­ate of am­mo­nia be­ing “volatile al­ka­li”), till Duhamel du Mon­ceau in 1736 es­tab­lished the fact that com­mon salt and the ash­es of sea-​plants con­tain the same base as is found in nat­ural de­posits of so­da salts (“min­er­al al­ka­li”), and that this body is dif­fer­ent from the “veg­etable al­ka­li” ob­tained by in­cin­er­at­ing land- plants or wood (pot-​ash­es). Lat­er, Mar­tin Hein­rich Klaproth, find­ing veg­etable al­ka­li in cer­tain min­er­als, such as leucite, pro­posed to dis­tin­guish it as potash, and at the same time as­signed to the min­er­al al­ka­li the name na­tron, which sur­vives in the sym­bol, Na, now used for sodi­um. The word al­ka­li sup­plied the sym­bol for potas­si­um, K (kali­um.) In mod­ern chem­istry al­ka­li is a gen­er­al term used for com­pounds which have the prop­er­ty of neu­tral­iz­ing acids, and is ap­plied more par­tic­ular­ly to the high­ly sol­uble hy­drates of sodi­um and potas­si­um and of the three rar­er “al­ka­li met­als,” cae­sium, ru­bid­ium and lithi­um, al­so to aque­ous am­mo­nia. In a small­er de­gree these al­ka­line prop­er­ties are shared by the less sol­uble hy­drates of the “met­als of the al­ka­line earths,” cal­ci­um, bar­ium and stron­tium, and by thal­li­um hy­drate. An al­ka­li is dis­tin­guished from an acid or neu­tral sub­stance by its ac­tion on lit­mus, turmer­ic and oth­er in­di­ca­tors.

AL­KA­LI MAN­UFAC­TURE. The word “al­ka­li” de­notes both so­da and potash, but by “al­ka­li man­ufac­ture” we un­der­stand mere­ly the man­ufac­ture of sodi­um sul­phate, car­bon­ate and hy­drate. The cor­re­spond­ing potash com­pounds are not man­ufac­tured in the Unit­ed King­dom, but ex­clu­sive­ly in Ger­many (from potas­si­um chlo­ride and from the moth­er-​liquor of the stron­tia pro­cess in the man­ufac­ture of beet­root sug­ar) and in France (from vinasse) . The term al­ka­li is em­ployed in a tech­ni­cal sense for the car­bon­ate and hy­drate (of sodi­um), but since in the Leblanc pro­cess the man­ufac­ture of sodi­um sul­phate nec­es­sar­ily pre­cedes that of the car­bon­ate, we in­clude this as well as the man­ufac­ture of hy­drochlo­ric acid which is in­sep­ara­ble from it. We al­so treat of the uti­liza­tion of hy­drochlo­ric acid for the man­ufac­ture of chlo­rine and its deriva­tives, which are usu­al­ly com­prised with­in the mean­ing of the term “al­ka­li man­ufac­ture.” A great many pro­cess­es have been pro­posed for the man­ufac­ture of al­ka­li from var­ious ma­te­ri­als, but none of these has be­come of any prac­ti­cal im­por­tance ex­cept those which start from sodi­um chlo­ride (com­mon salt); and among the lat­ter again on­ly three class­es of pro­cess­es are ac­tu­al­ly em­ployed for man­ufac­tur­ing pur­pos­es, viz. the Leblanc, the am­mo­nia-​so­da, and the elec­trolyt­ic pro­cess­es.

I. THE LEBLANC PRO­CESS

The Leblanc pro­cess, which was in­vent­ed by Nico­las Leblanc (q.v.) about 1790, be­gins with the de­com­po­si­tion of sodi­um chlo­ride by sul­phuric acid, by which sodi­um sul­phate and hy­drochlo­ric acid are pro­duced. The sodi­um sul­phate is af­ter­wards fluxed with cal­ci­um car­bon­ate and coal, and a mix­ture is thus ob­tained from which sodi­um car­bon­ate can be ex­tract­ed by ex­haust­ing it with wa­ter.

Leblanc him­self for a time car­ried out his pro­cess on a man­ufac­tur­ing scale, but he was ru­ined in the po­lit­ical trou­bles of the time and died by his own hand in 1806. His in­ven­tion was, how­ev­er, at once uti­lized by oth­ers in France; and in Great Britain, af­ter a few pre­vi­ous at­tempts on a small scale, it was def­inite­ly in­tro­duced by James Mus­pratt (q.v.) in 1823. From that time on­ward the Leblanc pro­cess spread more and more, and for a con­sid­er­able pe­ri­od near­ly all the al­ka­li of com­merce was made by it. The rise of the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess (since 1870) grad­ual­ly told up­on the Leblanc pro­cess, which in con­se­quence has been great­ly re­strict­ed in Great Britain and Ger­many, and has be­come prac­ti­cal­ly ex­tinct in all oth­er coun­tries, ex­cept as far as its first part, the man­ufac­ture of sodi­um sul­phate and hy­drochlo­ric acid, is con­cerned.

The pro­duc­tion of al­ka­li in Great Britain, soon af­ter the in­tro­duc­tion of the Leblanc pro­cess, be­came the most ex­ten­sive in the world, and out­stripped that of all oth­er coun­tries put to­geth­er. With the rise of the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess, for which the eco­nom­ic con­di­tions are near­ly as favourable in oth­er coun­tries, the pre­dom­inance of Great Britain in that do­main has be­come less, but even now that coun­try pro­duces more al­ka­li than any oth­er sin­gle coun­try. Most of the British al­ka­li works are sit­uat­ed in South Lan­cashire and the ad­join­ing part of Cheshire, near the mouth of the Tyne and in the West of Scot­land.

Var­ious in­dus­tries are car­ried on in Leblanc al­ka­li works, as fol­lows:–

1. Man­ufac­ture of sodi­um sul­phate.

2. Man­ufac­ture of hy­drochlo­ric acid.

3. Prepa­ra­tion of chlo­rine.

4. Em­ploy­ment of chlo­rine for the man­ufac­ture of bleach­ing- pow­der and of chlo­rates.

5. Man­ufac­ture of or­di­nary al­ka­li from sul­phate of so­da.

6. Man­ufac­ture of caus­tic so­da.

7. Man­ufac­ture of so­da crys­tals.

8. Re­cov­ery of sul­phur from al­ka­li waste.

1. Man­ufac­ture of Sodi­um Sul­phate.–This is com­mer­cial­ly known as salt-​cake, and is made by de­com­pos­ing com­mon salt with sul­phuric acid of about 80%, the re­ac­tion be­ing 2Na­Cl + H2SO4 = Na2SO4 + 2HCl. This re­ac­tion pro­ceeds in two stages. At first prin­ci­pal­ly acid sodi­um sul­phate, NaH­SO4, is formed to­geth­er with some nor­mal sul­phate; lat­er, when the tem­per­ature has risen, the NaH­SO4 acts with more Na­Cl so that near­ly all of it is con­vert­ed in­to Na2SO4. The gaseous hy­drochlo­ric acid evolved dur­ing all this time must be ab­sorbed in wa­ter, un­less it is di­rect­ly con­vert­ed in­to chlo­rine (see be­low, 2 and 3).

The pro­cess is car­ried out ei­ther in hand-​wrought fur­naces, or me­chan­ical fur­naces, both called “de­com­pos­ing” or “salt-​cake fur­naces.” In the for­mer case, the first re­ac­tion is pro­duced in cast- iron pans or “pots,” very heavy cast­ings of cir­cu­lar sec­tion, fired from be­low, ei­ther di­rect­ly or by the waste heat from the muf­fle- fur­nace. The re­ac­tion is com­plet­ed in a “roast­ing- fur­nace.” The lat­ter was for­mer­ly of­ten con­struct­ed as a rever­era­to­ry fu­nace, which is easy to build and to work, but the hy­drochlo­ric acid giv­en off here, be­ing mixed with the prod­ucts of the com­bus­tion of fu­el, can­not be con­densed to strong acid and is part­ly, if not en­tire­ly, wast­ed. It is, there­fore, de­cid­ed­ly prefer­able to em­ploy “muf­fle-​fur­naces” in which the heat­ing is per­formed from with­out, the fire-​gas­es pass­ing first over the arch and then un­der the bot­tom of the muf­fle. This re­quires more time and fu­el than the work in “open” fur­naces, but in the muf­fles the gaseous hy­drochlo­ric acid is sep­arat­ed from the fire-​gas­es, just like that evolved in the pot, and can there­fore be con­densed in­to strong hy­drochlo­ric acid, like the pot-​acid. This roast­er-​acid is, how­ev­er, of less val­ue than the pot-​acid, as it con­tains more im­pu­ri­ties.

It is not easy to keep the muf­fles per­ma­nent­ly tight, and as soon as any leak­ages oc­cur, ei­ther hy­drochlo­ric acid must es­cape in­to the fire-​flue, or some fire-​gas­es must en­ter in­to the muf­fle. The for­mer is de­cid­ed­ly more ob­jec­tion­able than the lat­ter, as it means that un­con­densed hy­drochlo­ric acid is sent in­to the air. This draw­back has been over­come by the con­struc­tion of “plus-​pres­sure” fur­naces (figs. 1 and 2), where the fire-​grate is placed 11 ft. be­low the top of the muf­fle. In con­se­quence the fire-​gas­es, when ar­riv­ing there by the chim­ney shaft (a), have al­ready a good up­ward draught, and when cir­cu­latung round the muf­fle are at a low­er pres­sure than the gas­es with­in the muf­fle, so that in case of any cracks be­ing formed, no hy­drochlo­ric acid es­capes in­to the fire-​flues, but vice ver­sa.

Since the work with or­di­nary hand-​wrought salt-​cake fur­naces is dis­agree­able and cost­ly, many at­tempts have been made to con­struct me­chan­ical salt-​cake fur­naces. Of these J. Mactear’s fur­naces (fig. 3) have met with the great­est suc­cess. They con­sist of a hor­izon­tal pan, 17 ft. wide, which is made up of a cen­tral pan (e), and a se­ries of con­cen­tric com­part­ments (C1), (C2), (C3), and which is sup­port­ed on a frame (d d), re­volv­ing round a per­pen­dic­ular ax­is on the wheels (n n). It is with an arch and heat­ed on the top from one side (l), ei­ther by an or­di­nary coal-​grate or by a gas-​pro­duc­er. A set of stir­ring blades car­ried in the frame (b b), and driv­en by gear­ing,

FIGS. 1. and 2.–Salt-​cake Fur­nace. (Sec­tion­al El­eva­tion and Plan.) Scale

Figs. 1-9 from Lunge’s Hand­buch der So­da-​In­dus­trie, by per­mis­sion of Friedr. Vieweg u. Sohn.

pass­es through a gap in the arch in such a man­ner that the gas­es can­not es­cape out­wards. The salt is con­veyed to the fur­nace by a chain of buck­ets run­ning on the pul­ley (g), and pass­ing in­to the hop­per (h), and through the pipe (i) is mixed with the prop­er amount of acid sup­plied by the pipe ( f.) The mix­ture is fed in con­tin­uous­ly to the cen­tral pan (e.) whence it over­flows in­to the com­part­ments (c1), (c2), (c3) suc­ces­sive­ly un­til it reach­es the cir­cum­fer­ence, where it is dis­charged con­ti­nous­ly by o and p in­to the col­lect­ing-​box (q), be­ing now con­vert­ed in­to salt-​cake. This fur­nace acts very well, and has been wide­ly in­tro­duced both in Great Britain and in oth­er coun­tries, but it has one great draw­back, apart from its high cost, viz. that all the hy­drochlo­ric acid gas gets mixed with fire-​gas­es, and con­se­quent­ly is con­densed in a weak­er and less pure form than from or­di­nary pots and muf­fles. This has led some fac­to­ries which had in­tro­duced such fur­naces to re­vert to hand-​wrought muf­fle-​fur­naces.

Much was ex­pect­ed at one time from the.“di­rect salt-​cake pro­cess” of Har­greaves and Robin­son, in which com­mon salt is sub­ject­ed in a se­ries of large cast-​iron cylin­ders to the ac­tion of pyrites-​burn­er gas­es and steam at a low red heat. The re­ac­tion go­ing on here is: 2Na­Cl + SO2 + O + H2O = Na2SO4 + 2HCl. This means that the pre­vi­ous man­ufac­ture of sul­phuric acid in the vit­ri­ol-​cham­bers is done away with, but this ap­par­ent­ly great sim­pli­fi­ca­tion is bal­anced by the great cost of the Har­greaves plant, and by the fact that the whole of the hy­drochlo­ric acid is mixed with nine or ten times its vol­ume of in­ert gas­es. Ow­ing to this, it is prac­ti­cal­ly im­pos­si­ble to con­dense the gaseous hy­drochlo­ric acid in­to the com­mer­cial acid, al­though this acid may be ob­tained suf­fi­cient­ly strong to be worked up in the Wel­don chlo­rine pro­cess (see be­low, 3). There­fore the Har­greaves pro­cess has been in­tro­duced on­ly in a few places.

Al­though the con­sump­tion of salt-​cake for the man­ufac­ture of al­ka­li is now much less than for­mer­ly, since the Leblanc al­ka­li pro­cess has been great­ly re­strict­ed, yet it is large­ly made and will con­tin­ue to be made for the use of glass­mak­ers, who use it for the or­di­nary de­scrip­tion of glass in the place of so­da-​ash. Nor must it be over­looked that salt-​cake must be made as long

FIG. 3.–Me­chan­ical Salt-​cake Fur­nace. (Sec­tion­al El­eva­tion.) Scale

as there is a sale for hy­drochlo­ric acid, or a con­sump­tion of the lat­ter for the man­ufac­ture of chlo­rine.

2. Man­ufac­ture of Hy­drochlo­ric Acid (com­mer­cial­ly al­so known as “muri­at­ic acid”). This un­avoid­able gaseous bye-​prod­uct of the man­ufac­ture of salt-​cake was, dur­ing the first part of the 19th cen­tu­ry, sim­ply sent in­to the air. When its dele­te­ri­ous ef­fects up­on veg­eta­tion, build­ing ma­te­ri­als, &c., be­came bet­ter known, and when at the same time an out­let had been found for mod­er­ate quan­ti­ties of hy­drochlo­ric acid, most fac­to­ries made more or less suc­cess­ful at­tempts to “con­dense” the gas by ab­sorp­tion in wa­ter. But this was hard­ly any­where done to the fullest pos­si­ble ex­tent, and in those dis­tricts where a num­ber of al­ka­li works were lo­cat­ed at no great dis­tance from one an­oth­er, their ag­gre­gate es­capes of hy­drochlo­ric and oth­er acids cre­at­ed an in­tol­er­able nui­sance. This was most no­tably the case in South Lan­cashire, and it led to the pass­ing of Lord Der­by’s “Al­ka­li Act,” in 1863, sup­ple­ment­ed by fur­ther leg­is­la­tion in 1874, 1881 and lat­er. There is hard­ly an­oth­er ex­am­ple in the an­nals of leg­isla­tive ef­forts equal to this, in re­spect of the re­al ben­efit con­ferred by it both on the gen­er­al pub­lic and on the man­ufac­tur­ers them­selves. This is prin­ci­pal­ly the con­se­quence of the ex­em­plary way in which the du­ties of in­spec­tor un­der these acts were car­ried out by Dr R. An­gus Smith (1817-1884) and his suc­ces­sors, who di­rect­ed their ef­forts not mere­ly to their pri­ma­ry du­ty of pre­vent­ing nui­sance, but quite as much to show­ing man­ufac­tur­ers how to make the most of the acid for­mer­ly wast­ed in one shape or an­oth­er. Not mere­ly Great Britain but all mankind has been im­mense­ly ben­efit­ed by the labours of the British al­ka­li in­spec­tors, which were, of course, sup­ple­ment­ed by the work of tech­ni­cal men in all the coun­tries con­cerned. The sci­en­tif­ic and tech­ni­cal prin­ci­ples of the con­den­sa­tion of hy­drochlo­ric acid are now thor­ough­ly well un­der­stood, and it is pos­si­ble to re­cov­er near­ly the whole of it in the state of strong com­mer­cial acid, con­tain­ing from 32 to 36% of pure hy­drochlo­ric acid, al­though prob­ably the ma­jor­ity of the man­ufac­tur­ers are still con­tent to ob­tain part of the acid in a weak­er state, mere­ly to sat­is­fy the re­quire­ments of the law pre­scrib­ing the pre­ven­tion of nui­sance. The prin­ci­ples of the con­den­sa­tion, that is of con­vert­ing the gaseous hy­drochlo­ric acid giv­en off dur­ing the de­com­po­si­tion of com­mon salt in­to a strong so­lu­tion of this gas in wa­ter, can be sum­ma­rized in a few words. The hy­drochlo­ric acid gas, which is al­ways di­lut­ed with air, some­times to a very great ex­tent, must be brought in­to the most in­ti­mate con­tact pos­si­ble with wa­ter, which greed­ily ab­sorbs it, form­ing or­di­nary hy­drochlo­ric acid, and this pro­cess must be car­ried so far that scarce­ly any hy­drochlo­ric acid re­mains in the es­cap­ing gas­es. The max­imum es­cape al­lowed by thc Al­ka­li Acts, viz. 5 % of the to­tal hy­drochlo­ric acid, is far above that which is now prac­ti­cal­ly at­tained. For a prop­er uti­liza­tion of the con­densed acid it is near­ly al­ways im­per­ative that it should be as strong as pos­si­ble, and this forms a sec­ond im­por­tant con­sid­er­ation in the con­struc­tion of the con­dens­ing ap­pa­ra­tus. Since the sol­ubil­ity of hy­drochlo­ric acid in wa­ter de­creas­es with the in­crease of the tem­per­ature, it is nec­es­sary to keep the lat­ter down–a task which is ren­dered some­what dif­fi­cult both by the orig­inal heat re­tained by the gas­es on their es­cape from the de­com­pos­ing ap­pa­ra­tus, and by the heat giv­en off through the re­ac­tion of hy­drochlo­ric acid up­on wa­ter.

Very dif­fer­ent meth­ods have been em­ployed to ef­fect all the above pur­pos­es. In Great Britain Gay-​Lus­sac’s coke-​tow­ers, adapt­ed by W. Gos­sage to the con­den­sa­tion of hy­drochlo­ric acid, are still near­ly ev­ery­where in use, fre­quent­ly com­bined with a num­ber of stone tanks through which the gas from the fur­naces trav­els be­fore en­ter­ing the tow­ers, meet­ing on its way the acid con­densed in the tow­er. This pro­cess is ex­cel­lent for ef­fect­ing a com­plete con­den­sa­tion of the hy­drochlo­ric acid as pre­scribed by the Al­ka­li Acts, and for re­cov­er­ing the bulk of the acid in a tol­er­ably strong state, but less so for re­cov­er­ing near­ly the whole of it in the most con­cen­trat­ed state, al­though even this is oc­ca­sion­al­ly at­tained. On the con­ti­nent of Eu­rope, where the last-​named re­quire­ment has been for a long time more ur­gent than in Great Britain, an­oth­er sys­tem has been gen­er­al­ly pre­ferred, name­ly, pass­ing the gas through a long se­ries of stoneware re­ceivers, and ul­ti­mate­ly through a small tow­er packed with stoneware or coke, mak­ing the acid flow in the op­po­site di­rec­tion to the gas. Great suc­cess has al­so been ob­tained by “plate-​tow­ers” made of stoneware, which al­low both the coke-​tow­ers and most of the stoneware re­ceivers to be dis­pensed with.

3. Prepa­ra­tion of Chlo­rine.–In this place we speak on­ly of the prepa­ra­tion of chlo­rine from hy­drochlo­ric acid by chem­ical pro­cess­es; the elec­trolyt­ic pro­cess­es will be treat­ed here­after. It is clear that free chlo­rine must be pre­pared from hy­drochlo­ric acid by ox­idiz­ing the hy­dro­gen. This can be done most eas­ily by “ac­tive” oxy­gen, such as is present in the per­ox­ides, in chromic or per­man­gan­ic acid. Prac­ti­cal­ly the on­ly agent em­ployed in this way, and that al­ready by C. W. Scheele, the dis­cov­er­er of chlo­rine, in 1774, is the per­ox­ide of man­ganese (man­ganese diox­ide), found in con­sid­er­able quan­ti­ties in na­ture as “man­ganese ore” (the purest of which is called py­ro­lusite), and al­so ar­ti­fi­cial­ly re­gen­er­at­ed from the waste liquors of a for­mer op­er­ation. Even now, where chlo­rine is re­quired for im­me­di­ate use in some oth­er chem­ical op­er­ations on a com­par­ative­ly small scale, it is ob­tained by the ac­tion of hy­drochlo­ric acid on na­tive man­ganese diox­ide, ac­cord­ing to the equa­tion: Mno2 + 4HCl = Mn­Cl2 + Cl2 + 2H2O. This ac­tion must be pro­mot­ed by heat­ing the mix­ture, but even then noth­ing like all of the hy­drochlo­ric acid em­ployed is made to act as above, be­cause the at­tack on the man­ganese ore re­quires a cer­tain min­imum con­cen­tra­tion of the acid. For­mer­ly, in­stead of free hy­drochlo­ric acid a mix­ture of com­mon salt and sul­phuric acid was some­times em­ployed, but this is nev­er done on a man­ufac­tur­ing scale now. Ow­ing to the im­pos­si­bil­ity of em­ploy­ing any met­al in con­tact with the acid, the “chlo­rine stills,” where the above re­ac­tion is car­ried out, must be made of acid-​proof stones or “chem­ical” stoneware. This pro­cess is very cost­ly, as much of the acid and all of the man­ganese is wast­ed. More­over it is of a most dis­agree­able kind, as the waste “still-​liquor,” con­tain­ing very much free hy­drochlo­ric acid and even some free chlo­rine, forms a most dele­te­ri­ous im­pu­ri­ty when find­ing its way in­to drains or wa­ter- cours­es, apart from the in­tol­er­able nui­sance caused by the es­capes of chlo­rine from the stills and oth­er­wise, which can­not be at all times avoid­ed.

Many en­deav­ours were made to avoid the loss of the man­ganese in this op­er­ation, but with on­ly par­tial or no suc­cess. The dif­fi­cul­ty was on­ly over­come by the Wel­don pro­cess, be­ing the in­ven­tions of Wal­ter Wel­don from 1866 on­wards, and his pro­cess up to this day fur­nish­es the greater pro­por­tion of chlo­rine man­ufac­tured in the world. It be­gins with “still-​liquor,” ob­tained in the old way from na­tive man­ganese ore and hy­drochlo­ric acid. This liquor is first treat­ed with car­bon­ate of lime (ground chalk or lime­stone) in a “neu­tral­iz­ing-​well,” made of acid-​proof ma­te­ri­al and pro­vid­ed with wood­en stir­ring-​gear. Here the free hy­drochlo­ric acid is con­vert­ed in­to cal­ci­um chlo­ride, and at the same time any fer­ric chlo­ride present is con­vert­ed in­to in­sol­uble fer­ric hy­drox­ide: 2Fe­Cl3 + 3Ca­CO3 + 3 H2O = 2Fe(OH)3 + 3Ca­Cl2 + 3CO2. The sul­phuric acid present is most­ly pre­cip­itat­ed as cal­ci­um sul­phate. The mud thus formed is set­tled out, and the clear liquor, which is now quite neu­tral and con­tains both man­ganese and cal­ci­um chlo­rides, is mixed with cream of lime and treat­ed by a strong cur­rent of air, pro­duced by a blow­ing-​en­gine. This is done in a tall iron cylin­der, say 9 ft. wide and 30 ft. high, called the “ox­idiz­er.” The air-​pipe goes right to the bot­tom of the cylin­der and there branch­es out in­to per­fo­rat­ed side-​pipes, so that the mass is thor­ough­ly stirred up all the time. The first ac­tion of the lime is to con­vert the man­ganese chlo­ride in­to manganous hy­drate (Mn(OH)2) and cal­ci­um chlo­ride; then more lime is added which great­ly pro­motes and has­tens the ox­idiz­ing pro­cess. The ob­ject of the lat­ter is to con­vert the manganous hy­drox­ide by the at­mo­spher­ic oxy­gen in­to man­ganese diox­ide, but this would take place much too slow­ly if there was not an ex­cess of lime present ready to com­bine with the man­ganese diox­ide to form a cal­ci­um man­gan­ite. On­ly so much lime is used that an acid man­gan­ite is formed cor­re­spond­ing to one molecule of cal­ci­um ox­ide to two of manganous ox­ide. This ad­di­tion­al lime, which is called the “ba­sis,” cer­tain­ly takes up hy­drochlo­ric acid in the next stage of the pro­cess, but that caus­es no more waste of acid than the in­com­plete ac­tion on na­tive man­ganese ore, men­tioned be­fore. The prod­uct ob­tained, called “Wel­don mud,” is of such fine tex­ture that it acts im­me­di­ate­ly with hy­drochlo­ric acid when mixed with it in the “Wel­don stills” (fig. 4), and that this acid can be al­most en­tire­ly neu­tral­ized there­by. The new still liquor formed in this man­ner is treat­ed as above, so that the man­ganese does its work over and over again. There is on­ly a slight me­chan­ical loss, which is re­duced in the best man­aged works to about 2 parts of man­ganese diox­ide to 100 of bleach­ing- pow­der. There are al­so oth­er ad­van­tages of this pro­cess which ex­plain its wide ex­ten­sion, in spite of the fact that on­ly from 30 to 35 parts of the hy­drochlo­ric acid em­ployed is con­vert­ed in­to chlo­rine, the re­main­der ul­ti­mate­ly leav­ing the fac­to­ry in the shape of a harm­less but use­less so­lu­tion of cal­ci­um chlo­ride.

Wel­don’s lat­er at­tempts at su­per­sed­ing his clas­si­cal pro­cess by oth­er in­ven­tions which uti­lize a larg­er pro­por­tion of the chlo­rine, in­tro­duced as hy­drochlo­ric acid, have not been suc­cess­ful in the long run, al­though some of them were aid­ed by the great tech­ni­cal skill of A. R. Pechiney. But the Dea­con pro­cess, the in­ven­tion of Hen­ry Dea­con (who was great­ly aid­ed by his chemist Dr Fer­di­nand Hurter), car­ried out since 1868, has at­tained to bet­ter, al­though noth­ing like com­plete, suc­cess in that di­rec­tion.

The Dea­con pro­cess, like the Wel­don pro­cess, ef­fects its ob­ject by the ox­idiz­ing ac­tion of at­mo­spher­ic air, but in a very dif­fer­ent man­ner. Wel­don re­tained the prin­ci­ple of the Scheele

FIG. 4.–Wel­don Chlo­rine Still. (Sec­tion­al El­eva­tion.) Scale

C, Stone steam col­umn rest­ing in stone sock­et K.

pro­cess by em­ploy­ing the ac­tive oxy­gen of man­ganese diox­ide to con­vert hy­drochlo­ric acid in­to free chlo­rine, and he em­ployed the at­mo­spher­ic oxy­gen on­ly in­di­rect­ly, for the re­cov­ery of man­ganese diox­ide from the man­ganese chlo­ride formed. But Dea­con worked on the di­rect re­ac­tion: 2HCl + O = H2O + Cl2. This re­ac­tion in or­di­nary cir­cum­stances is so slow as to be prac­ti­cal­ly use­less. If, how­ev­er, a “con­tact-​sub­stance” is em­ployed and that at the prop­er tem­per­ature, the pro­cess goes on at an im­mense­ly quick­ened rate and can even be car­ried out as a con­tin­uous op­er­ation. The on­ly sub­stance which pos­sess­es suf­fi­cient­ly strong cat­alyt­ic prop­er­ties for the re­ac­tion is cupric chlo­ride. If pieces of porous clay are soaked in a so­lu­tion of this salt and dried and kept at a tem­per­ature of 450 deg. C. (in prac­tice it is nec­es­sary to go to a rather high­er tem­per­ature), it is pos­si­ble con­tin­uous­ly to con­vert a unit­ed stream of hy­drochlo­ric acid and at­mo­spher­ic air, passed through the con­tact- sub­stance in a “de­com­pos­er” (fig. 5), to a larg­er ex­tent in­to chlo­rine and wa­ter, of course mixed with the ex­cess of oxy­gen and all the ni­tro­gen of the air. On a small scale it is pos­si­ble to push the de­com­po­si­tion as far as 90% of the hy­drochlo­ric acid, but on the large scale on­ly at most 60% is reached. The mix­ture of hy­drochlo­ric acid and air is tak­en di­rect­ly from the “de­com­pos­ing-​pan” of an or­di­nary salt-​cake fur­nace, is first cooled down in pipes suf­fi­cient­ly to con­dense most of the mois­ture present (to­geth­er with about 8% of the hy­drochlo­ric acid), and then passed through a cast-​iron su­per­heater and from this in­to the “de­com­pos­er.” The gaseous mix­ture, is­su­ing from the lat­ter, is washed with wa­ter in the usu­al con­dens­ing ap­pa­ra­tus, to re­move the 40 or 50 parts of hy­drochlo­ric acid left un­changed, and can then be im­me­di­ate­ly em­ployed for the man­ufac­ture of chlo­rate of potash.

Where (as is the more usu­al case) the chlo­rine has to serve for the man­ufac­ture of bleach­ing-​pow­der, it must first be de­prived of the great amount of mois­ture which it con­tains, by means of

FIG. 5.–Dea­con “De­com­pos­er.” (Sec­tion­al El­eva­tion.) Scale 1/40. a,a, Up­right cast-​iron cylin­ders; b,b, brick jack­et; c,c, flues; d,e, iron plates ar­ranged like vene­tian blinds, be­tween which the con­tact-​sub­stance is con­tained; f, charg­ing hole; g, dis­charg­ing hole; h, en­trance pipe for gas; i, ex­it pipe for gas.

coke-​tow­ers fed with mod­er­ate­ly strong sul­phuric acid. As the gas is­su­ing from these con­tains on­ly about 5 vol­umes % of hy­drochlo­ric acid, it can­not be made to act up­on lime in the or­di­nary bleach­ing-​pow­der cham­bers, but spe­cial­ly con­struct­ed cham­bers must be pro­vid­ed (see fig. 4). The move­ment of the gas­es through all this com­pli­cat­ed set of ap­pa­ra­tus is pro­duced by a Root’s blow­er placed at the end of it all.

The Dea­con pro­cess makes cheap­er chlo­rine than the Wel­don pro­cess, but the plant is com­pli­cat­ed and cost­ly and the work­ing re­quires a great deal of at­ten­tion. In skilled hands it has been proved to yield ex­cel­lent re­sults.

The hy­drochlo­ric acid from the cal­cin­ing-​fur­naces or “roast­ers” can­not be em­ployed im­me­di­ate­ly for the Dea­con pro­cess, as the sul­phuric acid al­ways con­tained in the roast­er gas­es soon “poi­sons” the con­tact-​sub­stance and ren­ders it in­op­er­ative. This acid must, there­fore, be con­densed in the or­di­nary way in­to liq­uid hy­drochlo­ric acid and for­mer­ly could be worked up on­ly by the Wel­don pro­cess. R. Hasen­clever has over­come this draw­back by run­ning this im­pure acid in­to mod­er­ate­ly strong sul­phuric acid (140 deg. Twad­dell), blow­ing in air at the same time. This pro­duces a mixed cur­rent of pure hy­drochlo­ric acid gas and air, which is car­ried in­to a Dea­con de­com­pos­er where it acts in the usu­al man­ner. The sul­phuric acid, of which 6 or 7 parts are used to one of im­pure liq­uid hy­drochlo­ric acid, is al­ways re­served for use in the same pro­cess, by driv­ing off the ex­cess of wa­ter in a lead pan, fired from the top, so that the prin­ci­pal ex­pense of the pro­cess is that of the fu­el re­quired for the last op­er­ation.

4. Ap­pli­ca­tions of Chlo­rine.–Some of the chlo­rine man­ufac­tured (prac­ti­cal­ly on­ly such as is ob­tained by the elec­trol­ysis of chlo­rides) is con­densed by cold and pres­sure in­to liq­uid chlo­rine. If this is an­hy­drous, as it must be in any case for this pur­pose, it does not act up­on the met­al of the com­pres­sors, nor up­on the iron bot­tles in which it is sent out. It may even be sent out in tank wag­ons, sim­ilar to those which are em­ployed for car­ry­ing sul­phuric acid, hold­ing 10 tons each.

Some­times the chlo­rine is em­ployed di­rect­ly for bleach­ing pur­pos­es, es­pe­cial­ly for some kinds of pa­per. A num­ber of or­gan­ic chlo­ri­nat­ed prod­ucts are al­so pro­duced on a large scale. But most of the chlo­rine is uti­lized for the pro­duc­tion of bleach­ing- pow­der, of bleach-​liquor, and of chlo­rate of potash.

Bleach­ing-​pow­der is a com­pound ob­tained by the ac­tion of free chlo­rine on hy­drat­ed lime, con­tain­ing a slight ex­cess of wa­ter at or­di­nary tem­per­atures or slight­ly above these. Its com­po­si­tion ap­proach­es the for­mu­la CaO­Cl2, and it is re­gard­ed as a dou­ble salt of cal­ci­um chlo­ride and hypochlo­rite, which by the ac­tion of wa­ter splits up in­to a mix­ture of these salts. It al­ways con­tains a cer­tain quan­ti­ty of chem­ical­ly com­bined wa­ter and al­so an ex­cess of lime. Usu­al­ly this lime is re­gard­ed on­ly as me­chan­ical­ly mixed with the bleach­ing-​com­pound, CaO­Cl2, but some chemists adopt for­mu­lae in which this lime is equal­ly rep­re­sent­ed.

For the man­ufac­ture of bleach­ing-​pow­der, lime­stone of high de­gree of pu­ri­ty (es­pe­cial­ly free from mag­ne­sia and iron) is care­ful­ly burned so as to drive out near­ly all the car­bon diox­ide with­out over­heat­ing the lime. The quick-​lime is then slaked with the req­ui­site quan­ti­ty of wa­ter; the prod­uct is passed through a fine-​meshed wire sieve and is spread in lay­ers of 2 or 3 in. at the bot­tom of large box­es, the “bleach­ing-​pow­der cham­bers,” made of lead, or some­times of cast-​iron pro­tect­ed by paint, of slate or even of tarred wood. Chlo­rine, gen­er­at­ed in an or­di­nary or a Wel­don still, is passed in and is rapid­ly ab­sorbed. When the ab­sorp­tion be­comes slow, the gas is cut off and the cham­ber is left to it­self for twelve hours or more, when it will be found that all the chlo­rine has been tak­en up. Now the door of the cham­ber is opened, the pow­der ly­ing at the bot­tom is turned over and the treat­ment with gas is re­peat­ed. Some­times a third treat­ment is nec­es­sary in or­der to get the prod­uct up to the strength re­quired in com­merce, viz. 35% of “avail­able” chlo­rine. The fin­ished prod­uct is packed in­to wood­en casks lined with brown pa­per. The work of pack­ing is a most dis­agree­able and un­healthy op­er­ation which is best re­lieved by erect­ing the cham­bers at a high­er lev­el and plac­ing the casks un­der­neath, com­mu­ni­ca­tion be­ing made by means of traps in the cham­ber-​bot­tom. so that the pack­ers can do their work out­side the cham­bers. The bleach­ing-​pow­der casks must be kept in a dry place, as cool as pos­si­ble, and nev­er ex­posed to the di­rect rays of the sun, in or­der to pre­vent a de­com­po­si­tion which now and then has even led to ex­plo­sions.

The weak chlo­rine from the Dea­con pro­cess can­not be treat­ed in this man­ner, as cham­bers of im­pos­si­bly large di­men­sions would be re­quired. Orig­inal­ly the ab­sorp­tion of the Dea­con chlo­rine took place in a set of cham­bers, con­struct­ed of large slabs of stone, con­tain­ing a great many hor­izon­tal shelves su­per­posed over one an­oth­er. About six­teen such cham­bers were com­bined in such man­ner that the fresh gas passed in­to that cham­ber which had been the longest time at work and in which the bleach­ing-​pow­der was near­ly fin­ished, and so forth un­til the gas, now all but en­tire­ly ex­haust­ed, reached the last-​filled cham­ber in which it met with fresh lime and there gave up the last of the chlo­rine. These “Dea­con cham­bers” oc­cu­pied a large space, be­sides be­ing ex­pen­sive to build and dif­fi­cult to keep in re­pair.

They are now most­ly re­placed by an ap­pa­ra­tus, the in­ven­tion of R. Hasen­clever, con­sist­ing of four hor­izon­tal cast-​iron cylin­ders with in­ter­nal stir­ring-​gear. The fresh lime is con­tin­ual­ly charged in­to the top cylin­der, is grad­ual­ly moved to­wards the oth­er end, falls down in­to the next low­er cylin­der and thus grad­ual­ly makes its way to the low­est cylin­der. The weak chlo­rine gas from the Dea­con ap­pa­ra­tus trav­els pre­cise­ly the op­po­site way, from the bot­tom up­wards, the re­sult be­ing that fin­ished bleach­ing- pow­der is con­tin­ual­ly dis­charged at the bot­tom and air free from chlo­rine leaves the ap­pa­ra­tus at the top.

Bleach­ing-​pow­der is man­ufac­tured to the ex­tent of sev­er­al hun­dred thou­sands of tons an­nu­al­ly, al­most en­tire­ly for the use of pa­per­mak­ers and cot­ton bleach­ers. Small­er quan­ti­ties are used for dis­in­fec­tion and oth­er pur­pos­es. It is usu­al­ly sold in “tierces,” that is, casks con­tain­ing about 10 cwt.

Bleach-​liquors.–If the chlo­rine is made to act on cream of lime, care be­ing tak­en that the tem­per­ature does not rise above 35 deg. and that the chlo­rine is not in ex­cess, a so­lu­tion is ob­tained con­tain­ing a mix­ture of cal­ci­um chlo­ride and hypochlo­rite which is a very con­ve­nient agent for bleach­ers, but which does not bear the ex­pense of car­riage over long dis­tances. Sim­ilar liq­uids are ob­tained with a ba­sis of sodi­um (“eau de Jav­el”), by pass­ing chlo­rine in­to so­lu­tions of sodi­um car­bon­ate. The for­mer kind of bleach-​liquor is most­ly used in the in­dus­try of cot­ton, the lat­ter in that of linen.

Chlo­rate of Potash.–For­mer­ly all chlo­rate of potash, as some is still, was ob­tained by pass­ing chlo­rine in­to milk of lime, al­low­ing the tem­per­ature to rise al­most to the boil­ing-​point, and con­tin­uing un­til the bleach­ing-​so­lu­tion, orig­inal­ly formed, is con­vert­ed in­to a mix­ture of cal­ci­um chlo­rate and chlo­ride, the fi­nal re­ac­tion be­ing 6Ca(OH)2 + 6Cl2 = 5Ca­cl2 + Ca(ClO3)2 + 6H2O. On adding to this so­lu­tion, af­ter set­tling out the mud, a quan­ti­ty of potas­si­um chlo­ride equiv­alent to the cal­ci­um chlo­rate, the re­ac­tion Ca(ClO3)2 + 2KCl = Ca­Cl2 + 2KClO3 is pro­duced, the ul­ti­mate pro­por­tions thus be­ing the­oret­ical­ly 2KClO3 to 6Ca­Cl2, though in re­al­ity there is rather more cal­ci­um chlo­ride present. When this so­lu­tion is con­cen­trat­ed by evap­ora­tion and cooled down, about five-​sixths of the chlo­rate of potash crys­tal­lizes out. It is pu­ri­fied by re­dis­solv­ing and crys­tal­liza­tion, and is sold ei­ther in the state of crys­tals or fine­ly ground. Dur­ing these op­er­ations care must be tak­en lest a spark should pro­duce the in­flam­ma­tion of the chlo­rate on con­tact with any or­gan­ic sub­stance. Large quan­ti­ties of potas­si­um chlo­rate ex­posed to strong heat in con­tact with the wood of casks or the tim­ber of a roof have pro­duced vi­olent ex­plo­sions.

Most of the chlo­rate of potash is now pre­pared by elec­trol­ysis of potas­si­um chlo­ride (see be­low). It is em­ployed for fire-​works, for some de­scrip­tions of ex­plo­sives, for safe­ty match­es and as an ox­idiz­er in some op­er­ations, es­pe­cial­ly in dye­ing and tis­sue print­ing. For the last-​named pur­pose it is some­times re­placed by sodi­um chlo­rate. The chlo­rates are usu­al­ly sold in wood­en kegs con­tain­ing 1 cwt. each.

5. The Man­ufac­ture of So­da-​ash from Salt-​cake by the Leblanc pro­cess.–This pro­cess con­sists in heat­ing a mix­ture of com­mer­cial

FIG. 6.–Black-​ash Fur­nace and Boil­ing-​down Pan. Scale

[14051]

sul­phate of so­da (salt-​cake) with about the same weight of crushed lime­stone and half its weight of coal, un­til the ma­te­ri­als are fluxed and a re­ac­tion has tak­en place, the prin­ci­pal phase of which is ex­pressed by the equa­tion Na2SO4 + CaC03 + 2C = 2CO2 + Na2CO3 + CaS. A num­ber of sec­ondary re­ac­tions, how­ev­er, oc­cur, ow­ing part­ly to the ex­cess of cal­ci­um car­bon­ate and coal and part­ly to the im­pu­ri­ties present, so that the sol­id prod­uct of the pro­cess, which is called “black-​ash,” has a some­what com­pli­cat­ed com­po­si­tion. Its prin­ci­pal con­stituents are al­ways sodi­um car­bon­ate and cal­ci­um sul­phide, which are sep­arat­ed by the ac­tion of wa­ter, the for­mer be­ing sol­uble and the lat­ter in­sol­uble.

The fur­nace in which the re­ac­tion takes place is shown in fig. 6 in a sec­tion­al plan. It is called a “black-​ash” fur­nace, and be­longs to the class of re­ver­ber­ato­ry fur­naces. A large fire-​grate (ab), hav­ing a cave (c) to fa­cil­itate stok­ing and stepped back at (d), is bound­ed on one side by a fire-​bridge (e); on the oth­er side of this, sep­arat­ed by an air-​chan­nel (g), there is first the prop­er flux­ing bed (h), and be­hind this the “back-​bed” (i) for pre-​heat­ing the charge. The flame is­su­ing from the fur­nace by (o) is al­ways fur­ther uti­lized for boil­ing down the liquors ob­tained in a lat­er stage, ei­ther in a pan (p) fired from the top and sup­port­ed on pil­lars (qq) as shown in the draw­ing, or in pans heat­ed from be­low. The charge of salt-​cake (gen­er­al­ly 3 cwt.), lime­stone and coal is rough­ly mixed and put up­on the back-​bed; when the front- bed has be­come emp­ty it is drawn for­ward and ex­posed to the full heat of the fire, with fre­quent stir­ring. Af­ter about three- quar­ters of an hour the sub­stances are so far fluxed or soft­ened that the re­ac­tion now sets in ful­ly, as shown by the co­pi­ous es­cape of gas. This is at first colour­less car­bon diox­ide, but lat­er on in­flammable gas­es come out of the mass, which at this stage has turned in­to a thick­er, pasty con­di­tion, show­ing that the end of the re­ac­tion is near. The in­flammable gas is car­bon monox­ide, which, how­ev­er, does not burn with its prop­er pur­ple flame, but with a flame tinged bright yel­low by the sodi­um present. This car­bon monox­ide is formed by the ac­tion of coal on the lime formed at this stage from the orig­inal lime­stone. When the “can­dles” of car­bon monox­ide ap­pear, the pasty mass is quick­ly drawn out of the fur­nace in­to iron “bo­gies,” where it so­lid­ifies in­to a grey, porous mass, the “black-​ash.” Care must be tak­en to heat it no longer than nec­es­sary, as it oth­er­wise turns red and yields bad so­da.

The hand-​wrought black-​ash fur­nace has been most­ly su­per­seded in the large fac­to­ries by the re­volv­ing black-​ash fur­nace, shown in fig. 7. These fur­naces pos­sess a large cylin­dri­cal shell (e), lined with fire-​bricks, and made to re­volve round its hor­izon­tal ax­is by means of a toothed wheel fixed on its ex­te­ri­or; (ff) are tire-​seats hold­ing tires (gg), which work in fric­tion rollers (h). The flame of a fixed fire­place (a) en­ters through an “eye” (b) in the cen­tre of the front end of the cylin­der and is­sues in the cen­tre of

FIG. 7.–Re­volv­ing Black-​ash Fur­nace. (El­eva­tion.) Scale

the back end, first in­to a large dust-​cham­ber (m.) and then over or un­der boil­ing-​down pans (p.) These me­chan­ical fur­naces do the work of from four to ten or­di­nary fur­naces ac­cord­ing to their size. with com­par­ative­ly very lit­tle ex­pense for labour, but they must be very care­ful­ly man­aged and the black-​ash from them is more dif­fi­cult to lix­ivi­ate than that from hand-​wrought fur­naces, be­cause it is less porous. The lix­ivi­ation of the black- ash re­quires great care, as the cal­ci­um sul­phide is li­able to be changed in­to sol­uble cal­ci­um com­pounds, which im­me­di­ate­ly re­act with sodi­um car­bon­ate and de­stroy a cor­re­spond­ing quan­ti­ty of the lat­ter, ren­der­ing the so­da weak­er and im­pure. This change of the cal­ci­um sul­phide may be brought about ei­ther by the ox­idiz­ing ac­tion of the air or by “hy­drol­ysis,” pro­duced by pro­longed con­tact with hot wa­ter, the use of which, on the oth­er hand, can­not be avoid­ed in or­der to ex­tract the sodi­um car­bon­ate it­self. The ap­pa­ra­tus which has been found most suit­able for the pur­pose was de­vised by Pro­fes­sor H. Buff of Giessen, and first prac­ti­cal­ly car­ried out by Charles Dun­lop at St Rol­lox. It con­sists of a num­ber of tanks or “vats,” placed at the same lev­el and con­nect­ed by pipes which reach near­ly to the bot­tom of one tank and open out at the top in­to the next tank. The vats are al­so pro­vid­ed with false bot­toms, out­let cocks, steam pipes and so forth. Tepid wa­ter is run in at one end of the se­ries, where near­ly ex­haust­ed black-​ash is present; the weak liquor takes up more so­da from the in­ter­me­di­ate tanks and at last gets up to full strength in the last tank, charged with fresh black-​ash and kept at a high­er tem­per­ature, viz. 60 deg. C. When the first tank has been quite ex­haust­ed, the wa­ter is turned on to the next, the first tank is emp­tied by dis­charg­ing the “al­ka­li- waste,” and is filled with fresh black-​ash, where­upon it be­comes the last of the se­ries. In spite of all pre­cau­tions a cer­tain quan­ti­ty of im­pu­ri­ties is al­ways formed, but this should be kept down as much as pos­si­ble by strict­ly watch­ing the tem­per­ature in the vats and by tak­ing care that the black-​ash in the wet state is nev­er ex­posed to the air. The un­avoid­able con­tam­ina­tion with mud­dy par­ti­cles of vat-​waste is re­moved by al­low­ing the vat- liquor to rest for some hours in a sep­arate tank and set­tling out the mud.

The clear vat-​liquor, if al­lowed to cool down to or­di­nary tem­per­ature, would sep­arate out part of the sodi­um car­bon­ate in the shape of dec­ahy­drat­ed crys­tals. As these do not come out suf­fi­cient­ly pure, they would not be mar­ketable and there­fore they are not al­lowed to be formed, but the liq­uid, while still hot, is ei­ther run in­to the boil­ing-​down pans, or sub­mit­ted to one of the pu­ri­fy­ing op­er­ations to be de­scribed be­low. If it is boiled down with­out fur­ther pu­rifi­ca­tion, the re­sult­ing so­da-​ash is not of the first qual­ity, but it is suf­fi­cient­ly pure for many pur­pos­es. The boil­ing down is most eco­nom­ical­ly per­formed by means of large iron pans cov­ered with a brick arch and heat­ed from the top by the waste flame is­su­ing from the black-​ash fur­naces (see figs. 6 and 7). It is con­tin­ued un­til the con­tents of the pan have been con­vert­ed in­to a thick paste of small crys­tals of mono­hy­drat­ed sodi­um car­bon­ate, per­me­at­ed by a moth­er-​liquor which is re­moved by drain­ing on per­fo­rat­ed plates or by a cen­trifu­gal ma­chine, and is al­ways re­turned to the pans. The drained crys­tals are dried and heat­ed to red­ness in a re­ver­ber­ato­ry fur­nace; when “fin­ished,” the mass is of an im­pure white or light yel­low colour and is sold as or­di­nary “so­da-​ash.” It is not easy to make it stronger than 92% of sodi­um car­bon­ate, which is tech­ni­cal­ly ex­pressed as “52 de­grees of avail­able so­da” (see next page). If pur­er and stronger so­da-​ash is want­ed, the boil­ing down must be car­ried out in pans fired from be­low, and the crys­tals of mono­hy­drat­ed sodi­um car­bon­ate “fished” out as they are formed, but this is most­ly done af­ter sub­mit­ting the liquor to the pu­ri­fy­ing op­er­ations which we shall now de­scribe.

The dried or “fin­ished” so­da-​ash is ground to a pret­ty fine pow­der and is packed in­to wood­en casks or “tierces,” hold­ing from 10 to about 20 cwt. each, ac­cord­ing to the way of fill­ing them.

The prin­ci­pal im­pu­ri­ties of crude vat-​liquor are sodi­um hy­drate and sul­phide, the lat­ter of which al­ways leads to the for­ma­tion of sol­uble dou­ble sul­phur salts of sodi­um and iron. The oth­er im­pu­ri­ties are of mi­nor im­por­tance. The sul­phides can be re­moved by “ox­idiz­ing” them in­to thio­sul­phates by means of at­mo­spher­ic air, with or with­out the as­sis­tance of oth­er agents, such as man­ganese per­ox­ide; or by “car­bon­at­ing” them with lime-​kiln or oth­er gas­es con­tain­ing car­bon diox­ide; or by pre­cip­itat­ing them with lead or zinc ox­ide. The last men­tioned is the best but costli­est method, and is em­ployed on­ly in the man­ufac­ture of the high­est strengths of caus­tic so­da. The most usu­al pro­cess, where so­da-​ash is to be made, is the “car­bon­at­ing.” This is usu­al­ly ef­fect­ed ei­ther by forc­ing lime-​kiln gas through the liquor, con­tained in a closed iron ves­sel, or by pass­ing the gas­es through an iron tow­er filled with coke or oth­er ma­te­ri­als, suit­able for sub­di­vid­ing the stream of the gas­es and that of the vat-​liquor which trick­les down in the tow­er. The same ap­pa­ra­tus is used for “ox­idiz­ing” by means of at­mo­spher­ic air passed through by means of an in­jec­tor; some­times both air and car­bon diox­ide are passed in at the same time. The op­er­ation is fin­ished when all the sodi­um sul­phide has been con­vert­ed in­to nor­mal sodi­um car­bon­ate, part­ly al­so in­to acid sodi­um car­bon­ate (bi­car­bon­ate) NaH­CO3; at the same time a pre­cip­itate is formed, con­sist­ing of fer­rous sul­phide, alu­mi­na and sil­ica, which is re­moved by an­oth­er set­tling tank, and the clear liquor is now ready ei­ther for boil­ing down in a “fish­ing-​pan” for the man­ufac­ture of white so­da-​ash, or for the pro­cess of caus­ti­ciz­ing.

So­da-​ash (as well as caus­tic so­da) is sold by de­grees of “avail­able so­da.” This means that por­tion which neu­tral­izes the acid em­ployed for test­ing, and the de­grees mean the per­cent­age of Na2O thus found, whether it be present as Na2CO3, NaOH, or sodi­um alu­mi­nate or sil­icate. The purest so­da-​ash, equal to 100% Na2CO3, would be 58 1/2 de­grees of avail­able so­da. The or­di­nary com­mer­cial strength of Leblanc so­da-​ash is from 52 to 54 de­grees (in for­mer times much was sold in the state of 48%).

6. Man­ufac­ture of Caus­tic So­da.–Most of the Leblanc liquor is nowa­days con­vert­ed in­to caus­tic so­da, as white so­da-​ash is more eas­ily and cheap­ly made by the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess. We shall there­fore in this place de­scribe the man­ufac­ture of caus­tic so­da. This is al­ways made from the car­bon­ate by the ac­tion of slaked lime: Na2CO3 + Ca(OH)2 = Ca­CO3 + 2NaOH. The cal­ci­um car­bon­ate, be­ing in­sol­uble, is eas­ily sep­arat­ed from the caus­tic liquor by fil­tra­tion. But as this re­ac­tion is re­versible, we must ob­serve the con­di­tions nec­es­sary for di­rect­ing it in the right sense. These are: di­lut­ing with wa­ter so as not to ex­ceed 10% of sodi­um car­bon­ate to 90% of wa­ter; boil­ing this mix­ture; and keep­ing it well ag­itat­ed. At the best about 92% of the sodi­um car­bon­ate can be con­vert­ed in­to caus­tic so­da, 8% re­main­ing un­changed.

The op­er­ation is per­formed in iron cylin­ders, pro­vid­ed with an ag­itat­ing ar­range­ment. This may con­sist of a steam in­jec­tor by means of which air is made to bub­ble through the liq­uid, which pro­duces both the re­quired ag­ita­tion and the heat­ing, and at the same time ox­idizes at least part of the sul­phides; but this method of ag­ita­tion caus­es a great waste of steam and at the same time a fur­ther di­lu­tion of the liquor. Many, there­fore, pre­fer me­chan­ical stir­ring by means of pad­dles, fixed ei­ther to a ver­ti­cal or to a hor­izon­tal shaft, and in­ject on­ly suf­fi­cient steam to keep the mass at the prop­er tem­per­ature. Some heat is al­so gained by the slak­ing of the caus­tic lime with­in the liquor. Af­ter from half an hour to a whole hour the con­ver­sion of sodi­um car­bon­ate in­to sodi­um hy­drate is brought about as far as is prac­ti­ca­ble. The whole mass is now run in­to the fil­ters, which are al­ways con­struct­ed on the vac­uum prin­ci­ple. They are iron box­es, in which a bed is made of bricks, above them grav­el, and over this sand, cov­ered on the top by iron grids. The space be­low the sieve thus formed is con­nect­ed by means of an out­let tap with a closed tank, and this again com­mu­ni­cates with a vac­uum pump. By this means the fil­tra­tion is quick­ened by the at­mo­spher­ic pres­sure, and goes on very rapid­ly, as al­so does the sub­se­quent wash­ing. The fil­tered caus­tic liquor pass­es to the con­cen­tra­tion plants; the wash­ings are em­ployed for di­lut­ing fresh vat-​liquor for the next op­er­ation, or for dis­solv­ing sol­id so­da-​ash for the same pur­pose. The washed-​out cal­ci­um car­bon­ate, which al­ways con­tains much cal­ci­um hy­drate and 2 or 3% of so­da in var­ious forms, usu­al­ly goes back to the black-​ash fur­naces, but it can­not be al­ways used up in this way, and what re­mains is thrown up­on a heap out­side the works. At­tempts have been made to use it in the man­ufac­ture of Port­land ce­ment, but with­out much suc­cess.

The clear caus­tic so­da liquor must be con­cen­trat­ed in such a way that the caus­tic so­da can­not to any great ex­tent be re­con­vert­ed in­to sodi­um car­bon­ate, and that the “salts” which it con­tains, sodi­um car­bon­ate, sul­phate, chlo­ride, &c., can be. sep­arat­ed dur­ing the pro­cess. For­mer­ly the most usu­al con­cen­trat­ing ap­pa­ra­tus was the “boat-​pan” (fig. 8). This is an

FIG. 8.–Caus­tic So­da Con­cen­tra­tion Boat-​pan. (Sec­tion­al El­eva­tion.) Scale

ob­long iron pan, the bot­tom of which slopes from both sides to a nar­row chan­nel. The lat­ter rests on a brick pil­lar; the re­main­ing part of the slop­ing bot­tom is heat­ed, ei­ther by the waste fire from a black-​ash fur­nace or by a spe­cial fire­place. This ar­range­ment has the ef­fect that the salts, as they sep­arate out, slide down the slop­ing part and ar­rive in the cen­tral chan­nel, which is not ex­posed to the fire-​gas­es, so that they qui­et­ly set­tle there, with­out cak­ing to the pan, un­til they are fished out by means of per­fo­rat­ed la­dles. These boat-​pans were for many years al­most ev­ery­where em­ployed, and did their work quite well, but rather ex­pen­sive­ly. At many works they have been re­placed by ei­ther The­len pans or vac­uum pans.

The “The­len pan” (thus named from its in­ven­tor, a fore­man at the Rhenania works near Aachen) is a me­chan­ical­ly worked fish­ing-​pan, which re­quires con­sid­er­ably less labour and coal than or­di­nary boat-​pans. It is a long trough, of near­ly semi­cir­cu­lar sec­tion, the whole bot­tom be­ing ex­posed to the fire- gas­es. A hor­izon­tal shaft runs length-​ways through the trough, and is pro­vid­ed with stir­ring blades, ar­ranged in such a man­ner that they con­stant­ly scrape the bot­tom, so that the salts can­not burn fast up­on it, and are at the same time moved for­ward to­wards one of the ends of the trough where they are au­to­mat­ical­ly re­moved by means of a chain of buck­ets.

The most ef­fi­cient evap­orat­ing ap­pa­ra­tus, as far as econ­omy of fu­el is con­cerned, is the vac­uum-​pan, of which from two to five are com­bined to form a set, but it has the draw­back that the re­moval of the salts is much more dif­fi­cult than with the old­er pans, de­scribed above. In this ap­pa­ra­tus on­ly the first of the pans is heat­ed di­rect­ly, usu­al­ly by means of or­di­nary boil­er- steam cir­cu­lat­ing round a num­ber of pipes, con­tain­ing the liq­uid to be con­cen­trat­ed. The steam ris­ing from the lat­ter is passed in­to a sim­ilar pan, in which it cir­cu­lates round an­oth­er set of pipes, but as it could not bring the liq­uid in the lat­ter to boil un­der or­di­nary con­di­tions, the sec­ond pan is con­nect­ed with a vac­uum-​pump so that the boil­ing-​point of the liq­uid in this pan is low­ered. This pan may be fol­lowed by a third pan, in which a stronger vac­uum is main­tained, and so forth. By this means the la­tent heat of the steam, is­su­ing from all pans but the last, is uti­lized for evap­orat­ing pur­pos­es, and from half to three-​fourths of the fu­el is saved.

Af­ter be­ing con­cen­trat­ed up to a cer­tain point, and af­ter the sep­ara­tion of near­ly all the salts, the caus­tic liquor is trans­ferred to cast-​iron “fin­ish­ing-​pots” (fig. 9), hold­ing from ten to twen­ty tons. Here it is fur­ther boiled down un­til the greater part or near­ly all of the wa­ter has been re­moved, and un­til the salts on cool­ing would set to a sol­id mass. This re­quires ul­ti­mate­ly a good red heat. Be­fore the mass has reached that point the sul­phides still present have been de­stroyed, ei­ther by the ad­di­tion of sol­id ni­trate of so­da or by blow­ing air through the red-​hot melt. Be­fore fin­ish­ing, the molten mass must be kept at a qui­et

FIG. 9.–Caus­tic So­da “Fin­ish­ing-​pot.” (Sec­tion­al El­eva­tion.) Scale

heat for some hours in or­der to set­tle out the fer­ric ox­ide which it al­ways con­tains, and which be­comes in­sol­uble (through the de­struc­tion of the sodi­um fer­rite) on­ly at high tem­per­atures. When it has com­plete­ly cleared, the liq­uid caus­tic is la­dled or pumped out in­to sheet-​iron drums, hold­ing about 6 cwt. each, where it so­lid­ifies and forms the caus­tic so­da known to com­merce.

The best caus­tic so­da tests from 75 to 76 de­grees of “avail­able so­da”; this is on­ly a few per cent re­moved from the com­po­si­tion of pure NaOH, which would be = 77.5 de­grees Na2O. Most of the caus­tic so­da is sold at a strength of 70 de­grees, some­times as low as 60 de­grees.

Caus­tic so­da is used in very large quan­ti­ties in the man­ufac­ture of soap, pa­per, tex­tile fab­rics, alizarin and oth­er colour­ing mat­ters, and for many oth­er pur­pos­es.

7. So­da-​Crys­tals.–An­oth­er prod­uct made in al­ka­li works is so­da-​crys­tals. Their for­mu­la in Na2CO3, 10H2O, cor­re­spond­ing to 37% of dry sodi­um car­bon­ate. They are made by dis­solv­ing or­di­nary so­da-​ash in hot wa­ter, adding a small quan­ti­ty of chlo­ride of lime for the de­struc­tion of colour­ing mat­ter and the ox­ida­tion of any fer­rous salts present, care­ful­ly set­tling the so­lu­tion, with­out al­low­ing its tem­per­ature to fall be­low the point of max­imum sol­ubil­ity (34 deg. C.), and run­ning the clar­ified liq­uid in­to cast-​iron crys­tal­liz­ers or “cones,” where, on cool­ing down, most of the sodi­um car­bon­ate is sep­arat­ed in large crys­tals of the dec­ahy­drat­ed form. This pro­cess lasts about a week in win­ter, and up to a fort­night in sum­mer. In France the crys­tal­liza­tion of so­da is per­formed not in large tanks but in sheet-​iron dish­es hold­ing on­ly about 1/4 cwt., and re­quires on­ly from 27 to 48 hours in the cool sea­son; it is not car­ried on at all in warmer cli­mates dur­ing the sum­mer months. The moth­er-​liquor, drained from the so­da-​crys­tals, on boil­ing down to dry­ness yields a very white, but low-​strength so­da-​ash, as the sol­uble im­pu­ri­ties of the orig­inal so­da-​ash are near­ly all col­lect­ed here; it is called “moth­er-​al­ka­li.”

Al­though the so­da-​crys­tals con­tain the al­ka­li com­bined with such a large quan­ti­ty of wa­ter, they are made in large quan­ti­ties, be­cause their form, to­geth­er with their com­plete free­dom from caus­tic so­da, makes them very suit­able for do­mes­tic pur­pos­es. Hence they are best known as “wash­ing-​so­da.” Some­times they are made, not from so­da-​ash, but from Leblanc so­da-​liquor be­fore “fin­ish­ing” the ash, or from the crude bi­car­bon­ate of the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess by pro­longed boil­ing, un­til near­ly half of the car­bon­ic acid has been ex­pelled.

For­mer­ly bi­car­bon­ate of so­da was made from Leblanc so­da- crys­tals by the ac­tion of car­bon­ic acid, but this ar­ti­cle is now al­most ex­clu­sive­ly made in the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess.

8. The Re­cov­ery of Sul­phur from Al­ka­li-​waste.–For many years all the sul­phur used in the Leblanc pro­cess in the shape of sodi­um sul­phate, and orig­inal­ly im­port­ed in­to the man­ufac­ture in the shape of brim­stone or pyrites, was wast­ed in the crude cal­ci­um sul­phide re­main­ing from the lix­ivi­ation of black-​ash. This “al­ka­li-​waste,” al­so called tank-​waste or vat- waste, was thrown in­to heaps where the cal­ci­um sul­phide was grad­ual­ly act­ed up­on by the mois­ture and the oxy­gen of the air. The sul­phur was by these con­vert­ed part­ly in­to gaseous sul­phuret­ted hy­dro­gen, part­ly in­to sol­uble poly­sul­phides, thio­sul­phates and oth­er sol­uble com­pounds, and in all shapes caused a nui­sance which be­came more and more in­tol­er­able as the num­ber and size of al­ka­li works in­creased. Both the air and the wa­ter in their neigh­bour­hood were con­tam­inat­ed there­by.

Both this nui­sance and the loss of the sul­phur (whose cost some­times amount­ed to more than half of the to­tal cost of the so­da-​ash) led to many at­tempts at ex­tract­ing the sul­phur from the al­ka­li-​waste. This was first done with a cer­tain amount of suc­cess by the pro­cess­es of M. Schaffn­er (1861) and L. Mond (1862), but as these re­quired the use of hy­drochlo­ric acid, and as they on­ly re­cov­ered about half of the sul­phur, they were su­per­seded by an­oth­er–a pro­cess which had been orig­inal­ly pro­posed by W. Gos­sage in 1837, but has been made prac­ti­ca­ble on­ly by the in­ven­tions of C. F. Claus, in 1883, and from 1887 on­ward by the tech­ni­cal skill of Messrs Chance Broth­ers, of Old­bury. The Claus-​Chance pro­cess, as it is called, com­pris­es the fol­low­ing op­er­ations. The wet al­ka­li-​waste as it comes from the lix­ivi­at­ing vats, is trans­ferred in­to up­right iron cylin­ders in which it is sys­tem­at­ical­ly treat­ed with lime-​kiln gas­es un­til the whole of the cal­ci­um sul­phide has been con­vert­ed in­to cal­ci­um car­bon­ate, the car­bon diox­ide of the lime-​kiln gas­es be­ing en­tire­ly ex­haust­ed. The sul­phur is­sues as sul­phuret­ted hy­dro­gen, mixed with the ni­tro­gen of the air. It is mixed with fresh air con­tain­ing suf­fi­cient oxy­gen for the com­bus­tion of the hy­dro­gen, and the mix­ture is passed through red-​hot iron ox­ide (burnt pyrites) which by its cat­alyt­ic ac­tion caus­es the re­ac­tion H2S + O = H2O + S to take place. By cool­ing the vapours the sul­phur is con­densed in a very pure form, and about 85% of the whole of it is re­cov­ered, the re­main­ing 15% es­cap­ing in the shape of sul­phur diox­ide (SO2) and H2S. Un­for­tu­nate­ly it has been hith­er­to found im­pos­si­ble to deal with these gas­es in any prof­itable way.

It should be not­ed that this “re­cov­ered sul­phur,” which is equal in pu­ri­ty to the “re­fined brim­stone” of com­merce, has a far high­er val­ue than the sul­phur con­tained in the orig­inal­ly em­ployed pyrites, so that the re­cov­ery is a pay­ing pro­cess, in spite of the some­what con­sid­er­able cost of the plant and of the work­ing op­er­ations. It has been in­tro­duced at most large Leblanc al­ka­li works, and has, so to say, giv­en them a new lease of life.

II. THE AM­MO­NIA-​SO­DA PRO­CESS

In spite of the great im­prove­ments ef­fect­ed dur­ing re­cent times the Leblanc pro­cess can­not eco­nom­ical­ly com­pete with the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess, prin­ci­pal­ly for two rea­sons. The sodi­um in the lat­ter costs next to noth­ing, be­ing ob­tained from nat­ural or ar­ti­fi­cial brine in which the sodi­um chlo­ride pos­sess­es an ex­treme­ly slight val­ue. The fu­el re­quired is less than half the amount used in the Leblanc pro­cess. More­over, the am­mo­nia pro­cess has been grad­ual­ly elab­orat­ed in­to a very com­pli­cat­ed but per­fect­ly reg­ular­ly work­ing scheme, in which the cost of labour and the loss of am­mo­nia are re­duced to a min­imum. The on­ly way in which the Leblanc pro­cess could still hold its own was by be­ing turned in the di­rec­tion of mak­ing caus­tic so­da, to which it lends it­self more eas­ily than the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess; but the lat­ter has in­vad­ed even this field. One ad­van­tage, how­ev­er, still re­mained to the Leblanc pro­cess. All en­deav­ours to ob­tain ei­ther hy­drochlo­ric acid or free chlo­rine in the am­mo­nia- so­da pro­cess have proved com­mer­cial fail­ures, all the chlo­rine of the sodi­um chlo­ride be­ing ul­ti­mate­ly lost in the shape of worth­less cal­ci­um chlo­ride. The Leblanc pro­cess thus re­mained the sole pur­vey­or of chlo­rine in its ac­tive forms, and in this way the fact is ac­count­ed for that, at least in Great Britain, the Leblanc pro­cess still fur­nish­es near­ly half of all the al­ka­li made, though in oth­er coun­tries its pro­por­tion­al share is very much less. The prof­it made up­on the chlo­rine pro­duced has to make up for the loss on the al­ka­li.

The am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess was first patent­ed in 1838 by H. G. Dyar and J. Hem­ming, who car­ried it out on an ex­per­imen­tal scale in Whitechapel. Many at­tempts were soon af­ter made in the same di­rec­tion, both in Eng­land and on the con­ti­nent of Eu­rope, the most re­mark­able of which was the in­ge­nious com­bi­na­tion of ap­pa­ra­tus de­vised by J. J. T. Schloesing and E. Rol­land. But a re­al­ly eco­nom­ical so­lu­tion of the prob­lem was first def­inite­ly found in 1872 by Ernest Solvay, as the re­sult of in­ves­ti­ga­tions be­gun about ten years pre­vi­ous­ly. The greater por­tion of all the so­da-​ash of com­merce is now made by Solvay’s ap­pa­ra­tus, which alone we shall de­scribe in this place, al­though it should be borne in mind that the prin­ci­ples laid down by Dyar and Hem­ming have been and are still suc­cess­ful­ly car­ried out in a num­ber of fac­to­ries by an en­tire­ly dif­fer­ent kind of ap­pa­ra­tus.

The lead­ing re­ac­tion of this pro­cess is the mu­tu­al de­com­po­si­tion of am­mo­ni­um bi­car­bon­ate and sodi­um chlo­ride: Na­Cl + NH4HCO3 = NaH­CO3 + NH4Cl. It be­gins, how­ev­er, not with ready-​made am­mo­ni­um bi­car­bon­ate, but with the sub­stances from which it is formed–am­mo­nia, wa­ter and car­bon diox­ide–which are made to act on sodi­um chlo­ride. In prac­tice the pro­cess is car­ried out as fol­lows. A near­ly sat­urat­ed so­lu­tion of sodi­um chlo­ride is ob­tained by pu­ri­fy­ing nat­ural or ar­ti­fi­cial brine, i.e. an im­pure so­lu­tion of com­mon salt, es­pe­cial­ly re­mov­ing the al­ka­line earths and so forth by ad­di­tion of sodi­um or am­mo­ni­um car­bon­ate and set­tling out the pre­cip­itate formed. This so­lu­tion is sat­urat­ed with am­mo­nia, pro­duced in the re­cov­ery plant (see be­low), in ves­sels pro­vid­ed with me­chan­ical ag­ita­tors and strong­ly cooled by coils of pipes through which cold wa­ter is made to flow. These ves­sels, as well as all oth­ers which are used in the pro­cess, are not open to the air, but com­mu­ni­cate with it through wash­ers in which fresh salt so­lu­tion is em­ployed for re­tain­ing any es­cap­ing vapours of am­mo­nia. The am­mo­ni­acal salt so­lu­tion is now sat­urat­ed with car­bon diox­ide. This is em­ployed in the shape of lime-​kiln gas­es, ob­tained in a com­par­ative­ly pure and strong form (up to 33% CO2), in very large kilns, charged with lime­stone and coke. The kilns are closed at the top, and the gas­es are drawn out by pow­er­ful air-​pumps, wash­ers be­ing in­ter­posed be­tween the kilns and the pumps for the pur­pose of pu­ri­fy­ing and cool­ing the gas. The heat evolved by the com­pres­sion in the air-​pumps (which ris­es to four at­mo­spheres or up­wards) is again re­moved by cool­ing, and the gas is now passed up­wards in the “Solvay tow­er” (fig. 10). This is a tall iron erec­tion, built up from su­per­posed cylin­ders, which are sep­arat­ed from one an­oth­er by per­fo­rat­ed hor­izon­tal di­aphragms, con­struct­ed in such a way that the gas­es are over and over again sub­di­vid­ed in­to many small­er streams and are thus thor­ough­ly brought in­to con­tact with the am­mo­ni­acal salt so­lu­tion with which the tow­er is about two-​thirds filled. There the re­ac­tion men­tioned above takes place, and ow­ing to the con­cen­tra­tion of the liq­uid the sodi­um bi­car­bon­ate formed is to a great ex­tent pre­cip­itat­ed in the shape of small crys­tals, form­ing with the moth­er-​liquor a thin mag­ma. This takes place with con­sid­er­able evo­lu­tion of heat which is re­moved by in­ter­nal and ex­ter­nal cool­ing with wa­ter. The tem­per­ature must not be al­lowed to rise be­yond a cer­tain point, for the re­ac­tion Na­Cl + NH4HCO3 = NaH­CO3 + NH4Cl is re­versible, and at a tem­per­ature of about 60 deg. or 70 deg. C. it is in fact prac­ti­cal­ly go­ing the wrong way, viz. from right to left. On the oth­er hand the cool­ing must not be car­ried too far, for in this case the crys­tals of sodi­um bi­car­bon­ate be­come so fine that the mud­dy mass is very dif­fi­cult to fil­ter. The best tem­per­ature seems to be about 30 deg. C.

Ei­ther at cer­tain in­ter­vals, or con­tin­uous­ly, a por­tion of the con­tents of the tow­er is with­drawn and fresh am­mo­ni­acal salt so­lu­tion is in­tro­duced high­er up. The mud­dy liq­uid run­ning out is passed on to the vac­uum fil­ters (Z, fig. 10). Here a sep­ara­tion takes place be­tween the crys­tals of sodi­um bi­car­bon­ate and the moth­er-​liquor. The for­mer are washed with wa­ter un­til the chlo­rides are near­ly re­moved, and are then car­ried in­to the dry­ing ap­pa­ra­tus.

From Thor­pe’s Dic­tio­nary of Ap­plied Chem­istry, by per­mis­sion of Long­mans, Green & Co.

FIG. 10.–Am­mo­nia - so­da Car­bon­at­ing Tow­ers and Fil­ters. (Sec­tion­al El­eva­tion.) Scale 1/100. AA, Tow­er; B, am­mo­ni­acal brine main; E, gas-​in­let; Z, vac­uum fil­ter; V, pipe to air-​pump.

This must be con­struct­ed in such a man­ner that the bi­car­bon­ate, which al­ways con­tains some am­mo­ni­um salts, is first freed from these by mod­er­ate heat­ing (of course tak­ing care that the am­mo­nia is com­plete­ly re­cov­ered), and lat­er on, by rais­ing the tem­per­ature, it is de­com­posed in­to sol­id sodi­um car­bon­ate and gaseous car­bon diox­ide. The for­mer needs on­ly grind­ing to con­sti­tute the fi­nal prod­uct, am­mo­nia- so­da ash; the lat­ter is again em­ployed in the pro­cess of treat­ing the am­mo­ni­acal salt so­lu­tion with car­bon diox­ide. Var­ious forms of ap­pa­ra­tus are em­ployed for this treat­ment of the crude bi­car­bon­ate–some­times se­mi-​cir­cu­lar troughs with me­chan­ical ag­ita­tors on the prin­ci­ple of the The­len pan (see above)–all act­ing on the prin­ci­ple that the es­cap­ing am­mo­nia and car­bon diox­ide must be ful­ly uti­lized over again. The so­da-​ash ob­tained in the end is of a high de­gree of pu­ri­ty, test­ing from 98 to 99% Na2CO3, the re­main­ing 1 or 2% con­sist­ing prin­ci­pal­ly of Na­Cl.

A very im­por­tant part of the pro­cess has still to be de­scribed, viz. the re­cov­ery of the am­mo­nia from the moth­er-​liquor com­ing from the vac­uum fil­ters and var­ious wash­ing liquors. Un­less this re­cov­ery is car­ried out in the most ef­fi­cient man­ner, the pro­cess can­not pos­si­bly pay; but so much progress has been made in this di­rec­tion that the loss of am­mo­nia is very slight in­deed, mere­ly a frac­tion per cent. The am­mo­nia is for the ma­jor part found in the moth­er-​liquor as am­mo­ni­um chlo­ride. A small­er but still con­sid­er­able por­tion ex­ists here and in the wash­ings in the shape of am­mo­ni­um car­bon­ates. These com­pounds dif­fer in their be­haviour to heat. The am­mo­ni­um car­bon­ates are driv­en out from their so­lu­tions by mere pro­longed boil­ing, be­ing there­by de­com­posed in­to am­mo­nia, car­bon diox­ide and wa­ter, but the am­mo­ni­um chlo­ride is not volatile un­der these con­di­tions, and must be de­com­posed by milk of lime: 2NH4Cl + Ca(OH)2 = 2NH3 + Ca­Cl2 + 2H2O. The so­lu­tion of cal­ci­um chlo­ride is run to waste, the am­mo­nia is re-​in­tro­duced in­to the pro­cess.

Both these re­ac­tions are car­ried out in tall cylin­dri­cal columns or “stills,” Con­sist­ing of a num­ber of su­per­posed cylin­ders, hav­ing per­fo­rat­ed hor­izon­tal par­ti­tions, and pro­vid­ed with a steam-​heat­ing ar­range­ment in the en­larged bot­tom por­tion. The milk of lime is in­tro­duced at a cer­tain dis­tance from the bot­tom. The steam caus­es the ac­tion of the lime on the am­mo­ni­um chlo­ride to take place in this low­er por­tion of the still, from which the steam, mixed with all the lib­er­at­ed am­mo­nia, ris­es in­to the up­per por­tion of the col­umn where its heat serves to drive out the volatile am­mo­ni­um car­bon­ate. Just be­low the top there is a cool­ing ar­range­ment, so that near­ly all the wa­ter is con­densed and runs back in­to the col­umn, while the am­mo­nia, with the car­bon diox­ide for­mer­ly com­bined with part of it, pass­es on first through an out­side cool­er where the re­main­ing wa­ter is con­densed, and af­ter­wards in­to the ves­sels, al­ready de­scribed, where the am­mo­nia is ab­sorbed by a so­lu­tion of salt and thus again in­tro­duced in­to the pro­cess.

The re­versible char­ac­ter of the prin­ci­pal re­ac­tion has the con­se­quence that a con­sid­er­able por­tion of the sodi­um chlo­ride (up to 33%) is lost, be­ing con­tained in the waste cal­ci­um chlo­ride so­lu­tion which is­sues from the am­mo­nia stills. This is, how­ev­er, not of much im­por­tance, as it had been in­tro­duced in the shape of a brine where its val­ue is very slight (6d. per ton of Na­Cl). It is true that all the chlo­rine com­bined with the sodi­um is lost part­ly as Na­Cl and part­ly as Ca­Cl2; none of the in­nu­mer­able at­tempts at re­cov­er­ing the chlo­rine from the waste liquor has been made to pay, and suc­cess is less like­ly than ev­er since the per­fec­tion of the elec­trolyt­ic pro­cess­es. (See CHLO­RINE.) For all that, es­pe­cial­ly in con­se­quence of the small amount of fu­el re­quired, and the to­tal ab­sence of the ne­ces­si­ty of em­ploy­ing sul­phur com­pounds as an in­ter­me­di­ary, the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess has sup­plant­ed the Leblanc pro­cess al­most en­tire­ly on the con­ti­nent of Eu­rope and to a great ex­tent in Great Britain.

III. ELEC­TROLITIC AL­KA­LI MAN­UFAC­TURE

In the­ory by far the sim­plest pro­cess for mak­ing al­ka­lis to­geth­er with free chlo­rine is the elec­trol­ysis of sodi­um (or potas­si­um) chlo­ride. When this takes place in an aque­ous so­lu­tion, the al­ka­line met­al at once re­acts with the wa­ter, so that a so­lu­tion of an al­ka­line hy­drate is formed while hy­dro­gen es­capes. The re­ac­tions are there­fore (we shall in this case speak on­ly of the sodi­um com­pounds): (1) Na­Cl = Na + Cl, (2) Na + H2O = NaOH + H.

The chlo­rine es­capes at the an­ode, the hy­dro­gen at the cath­ode. If the chlo­rine and the sodi­un hy­drate can act up­on each oth­er with­in the liq­uid, bleach-​liquors are formed: 2NaOH + Cl2 = NaO­Cl + NaOH + H2O. The pro­duc­tion of these for the use of pa­per­mak­ers and bleach­ers of tex­tile fab­rics has be­come an im­por­tant in­dus­try, but does not en­ter in­to our province.

If, how­ev­er, the ac­tion of the chlo­rine on the sodi­um hy­drate is pre­vent­ed, which can be done in var­ious ways, they can both be col­lect­ed in the iso­lat­ed state and uti­lized as has been pre­vi­ous­ly de­scribed, viz. the chlo­rine can be used for the man­ufac­ture of liq­uid chlo­rine, bleach­ing-​pow­der or oth­er bleach­ing com­pounds, or chlo­rates, and the so­lu­tion of sodi­um hy­drate can be sold as such, or con­vert­ed in­to sol­id caus­tic so­da. Pre­cise­ly the same can be done in the elec­trol­ysis of potas­si­um chlo­ride.

There is a third way of con­duct­ing the ac­tion, viz. so that the chlo­rine can act up­on the caus­tic so­da or potash at a high­er con­cen­tra­tion and tem­per­ature, in which case chlo­rates are di­rect­ly formed in the liq­uid: KCl + 8H2O = KClO3 + 8H2. This has in­deed be­come the prin­ci­pal, be­cause it is the cheap­est, pro­cess for the man­ufac­ture of potas­si­um and sodi­um chlo­rate. Per­chlo­rates can al­so be made in this way.

In all these cas­es the chlo­rine, or the prod­ucts made from it, re­al­ly play a greater part than the al­ka­li. From 58.5 parts by weight of Na­Cl we ob­tain the­oret­ical­ly 23Na = 40NaOH = 53Na2CO3, to­geth­er with 35.5 Cl, or 100 bleach­ing-​pow­der. As the weight of bleach­ing-​pow­der con­sumed in the world is at most one-​fifth of that of al­ka­li, cal­cu­lat­ed as Na2CO3, it fol­lows that on­ly about one-​tenth of all the al­ka­li re­quired could be made by elec­trol­ysis, even sup­pos­ing the Leblanc pro­cess to be en­tire­ly abol­ished. The re­main­ing nine-​tenths of al­ka­li must be sup­plied from oth­er sources, chiefly the am­mo­nia-​so­da pro­cess. As long as the op­er­ation of the Leblanc pro­cess is con­tin­ued, it will sup­ply a cer­tain share of both kinds of prod­ucts. Trust­wor­thy statis­tics on this point can­not be ob­tained, be­cause most firms with­hold any in­for­ma­tion as to the ex­tent of their pro­duc­tion from the pub­lic.

The first patents for the elec­trol­ysis of al­ka­line chlo­rides were tak­en out in 1851 and sev­er­al oth­ers lat­er on; but com­mer­cial suc­cess was ut­ter­ly im­pos­si­ble un­til the in­ven­tion of the dy­namo ma­chine al­lowed the pro­duc­tion of the elec­tric cur­rent at a suf­fi­cient­ly cheap rate. The first ap­pli­ca­tion of this ma­chine for the present pur­pose seems to have been made in 1875 and the num­ber of patents soon rapid­ly in­creased; but al­though a large amount of cap­ital was in­vest­ed and many very in­ge­nious in­ven­tions made their ap­pear­ance, it took near­ly an­oth­er twen­ty years be­fore the man­ufac­ture of al­ka­li in this way was car­ried out in a con­tin­uous way on a large scale and with prof­itable re­sults. A lit­tle ear­li­er the man­ufac­ture of potas­si­um chlo­rate (on the large scale since 1890) had been brought to a def­inite suc­cess by H. Gall and the Vi­comte A. de Mont­laur; a few years lat­er the pro­cess­es worked out at the Griesheim al­ka­li works (near Frank­fort) for the man­ufac­ture of caus­tic potash and chlo­rine es­tab­lished def­inite­ly the suc­cess of elec­trol­ysis in the field of potash, but even then none of the var­ious pro­cess­es work­ing with sodi­um chlo­ride had emerged from the ex­per­imen­tal stage. On­ly more re­cent­ly the man­ufac­ture of caus­tic so­da by elec­trol­ysis has al­so been es­tab­lished as a per­ma­nent and pay­ing in­dus­try, but as the great­est se­cre­cy is main­tained in ev­ery­thing be­long­ing to this do­main, and as nei­ther patent spec­ifi­ca­tions nor the san­guine as­ser­tions and an­tic­ipa­tions of in­ter­est­ed per­sons throw much re­al light on the ac­tu­al facts of the case, noth­ing cer­tain can be said ei­ther in re­gard to the date at which the prof­itable man­ufac­ture of caus­tic so­da was first car­ried out by elec­trol­ysis, or as to what ex­tent this is the case at the present mo­ment.

We shall here give mere­ly an out­line of those more im­por­tant pro­cess­es which are known to be at present work­ing prof­itably on a large scale.

(1) The Di­aphragm pro­cess is prob­ably the on­ly one em­ployed at present for the de­com­po­si­tion of potas­si­um chlo­ride, and it is al­so used for sodi­um chlo­ride. A hot, con­cen­trat­ed so­lu­tion of the al­ka­line chlo­ride is treat­ed by the elec­tric cur­rent in large iron tanks which at the same time serve as cath­odes. The an­odes are made of re­tort-​car­bon or oth­er chlo­rine-​re­sist­ing ma­te­ri­al, and they are mount­ed in cells which serve as di­aphragms. The ma­te­ri­al of these cells is usu­al­ly ce­ment, mixed with cer­tain sol­uble salts which im­part suf­fi­cient poros­ity to the ma­te­ri­al. The elec­trol­ysis is car­ried on un­til about a quar­ter of the chlo­ride has been trans­formed; it must be stopped at this stage lest the for­ma­tion of hypochlo­rite and chlo­rate should set in. The al­ka­line liq­uid is now trans­ferred to vac­uum pans, con­struct­ed in such a man­ner that the un­changed chlo­ride, which “salts out” dur­ing the con­cen­tra­tion, can be re­moved with­out dis­turb­ing the vac­uum, and here at last a con­cen­trat­ed pure so­lu­tion of KOH or NaOH is ob­tained which is sold in this state, or “fin­ished” as sol­id caus­tic in the man­ner de­scribed in the sec­tion treat­ing of the Leblanc so­da.

(2) The Cast­ner-​Kell­ner pro­cess em­ploys no di­aphragm, but a mer­cu­ri­al cath­ode. The elec­trol­ysis takes place in the cen­tral com­part­ment of a tri­par­tite trough which can be made to rock slight­ly ei­ther to one side or the oth­er. The bot­tom of the trough is cov­ered with mer­cury. The sodi­um as it is formed at the cath­ode at once dis­solves in the mer­cury which pro­tects it against the ac­tion of the wa­ter as long as the per­cent­age of sodi­um in the mer­cury does not ex­ceed, say, 0.02%. When this per­cent­age has been reached, the cell is rocked to the oth­er side, so that the amal­gam flows in­to one of the out­er com­part­ments where the sodi­um is con­vert­ed by wa­ter in­to sodi­um hy­drate. At the same time fresh mer­cury, from which the sodi­um had been pre­vi­ous­ly ex­tract­ed, flows from the oth­er out­side com­part­ment in­to the cen­tral one. Af­ter a cer­tain time the whole is rocked to­wards the oth­er side, and the pro­cess is con­tin­ued un­til the out­er com­part­ments con­tain a strong so­lu­tion of caus­tic so­da, free from chlo­ride and hypochlo­rite.

(3) Aus­sig pro­cess.–Here the an­ode is fixed in a bell, mount­ed in a larg­er iron tank where the cath­odes are placed. The whole is filled with a so­lu­tion of com­mon salt. As the elec­trol­ysis goes on, NaOH is formed at the cath­odes and re­mains at the bot­tom. The in­ter­me­di­ate lay­er of the salt so­lu­tion, float­ing over the caus­tic so­da so­lu­tion, plays the part of a di­aphragm, by pre­vent­ing the chlo­rine evolved in the bell from act­ing on the sodi­um hy­drate formed out­side, and this so­lu­tion of­fers much less re­sis­tance to the elec­tric cur­rent than the or­di­nary di­aphragms. This pro­cess there­fore con­sumes less pow­er than most oth­ers.

(4) The Ack­er-​Dou­glas pro­cess elec­trol­yses sodi­um chlo­ride in the molten state, em­ploy­ing a cath­ode con­sist­ing of molten lead. The lat­ter dis­solves the sodi­um as it is formed and car­ries it to an out­er com­part­ment where by the ac­tion of wa­ter the sodi­um is con­vert­ed in­to caus­tic so­da, while the lead re­turns to the in­ner com­part­ment. This pro­cess is car­ried on at Ni­agara Falls, but it is un­cer­tain to what ex­tent.

(5) The Har­greaves-​Bird pro­cess avoids cer­tain draw­backs at­tached to oth­er pro­cess­es, by em­ploy­ing a wire di­aphragm and con­vert­ing the caus­tic so­da as it is­sues on the oth­er side of this, by means of car­bon diox­ide, in­to a mix­ture of sodi­um car­bon­ate and bi­car­bon­ate, which sep­arates out in the sol­id state. This pro­cess is but lit­tle used.

It stands to rea­son that the elec­trolyt­ic pro­cess­es have been prin­ci­pal­ly de­vel­oped in lo­cal­ities where the elec­tric cur­rent can be pro­duced in the cheap­est pos­si­ble man­ner by means of wa­ter pow­er, but this is not the on­ly con­di­tion to be con­sid­ered, as the ques­tion of freight to a cen­tre of con­sump­tion and oth­er cir­cum­stances may al­so play an im­por­tant part. Where coal is very cheap in­deed and the oth­er con­di­tions are favourable, it is pos­si­ble to es­tab­lish such an in­dus­try with a prospect of com­mer­cial suc­cess, even when the elec­tric cur­rent is pro­duced by means of steam-​en­gines.

Nat­ural So­da.–This is the term ap­plied to cer­tain de­posits of al­ka­line salts, or their so­lu­tions, which oc­cur, some­times in very large quan­ti­ties, in var­ious parts of the world. The old­est and best known of these are the Na­tron lakes in Low­er Egypt. The largest oc­cur­rence of nat­ural so­da hith­er­to known is that in Owen’s Lake and oth­er salt lakes sit­uat­ed in east­ern Cal­ifor­nia. The so­da in all of these is present as “sesquicar­bon­ate,” in re­al­ity 4/3 car­bon­ate: NaH­CO3.Na2CO3.2H2O, and is al­ways mixed with large quan­ti­ties of chlo­ride and sul­phate, which makes its ex­trac­tion more dif­fi­cult than would ap­pear from the out­set. Hence, al­though for many cen­turies (up to Leblanc’s in­ven­tion) hard­ly any so­da was avail­able ex­cept from this source, and al­though we now know that mil­lions of tons of it ex­ist, es­pe­cial­ly in the west of the Unit­ed States, there is as yet very lit­tle of it prac­ti­cal­ly em­ployed, and that on­ly lo­cal­ly.

REF­ER­ENCES.–The prin­ci­pal work on the man­ufac­ture of al­ka­li is G. Lunge’s Sul­phuric Acid anid Al­ka­li (2nd ed., vols. ii. and iii., 1895-1896). This work has al­so ap­peared in a Ger­man and a French edi­tion. The same au­thor wrote the ar­ti­cles on the man­ufac­ture of sodi­um and potas­si­um com­pounds and on chlo­rine in Thor­pe’s Dic­tio­nary of ap­plied Chem­istry (3 vols., 1890-1893). The sub­ject is al­so treat­ed, very much more briefly, in Sorel’s In­dus­trie chim­ique min­erale (1902), and of course in ev­ery oth­er gen­er­al trea­tise on chem­ical tech­nol­ogy. A spe­cial trea­tise on the man­ufaci­ure of am­mo­nia so­da ash has been pub­lished in Ger­man by H. Schreib. Con­sult al­so the of­fi­cial An­nu­al re­ports on Al­ka­li, &c., and, from 1864 on­wards, Jour­nal of the So­ci­ety of Chem­ical In­dus­try, Fis­ch­ers Jahres­berichte der chemis­chen Tech­nolo­gie, and Zeitschrift fur ange­wandte Chemie. (G. L.)

AL­KA­LINE EARTHS. The so-​called al­ka­line earth-​met­als are the el­ements beryl­li­um, mag­ne­sium, cal­ci­um, stron­tium and bar­ium. By the ear­ly chemists, the term earth was used to de­note those non-​metal­lic sub­stances which were in­sol­uble in wa­ter and were un­af­fect­ed by strong heat­ing; and as some of these sub­stances (e.g. lime) were found to be very sim­ilar in prop­er­ties to those of the al­ka­lis, they were called al­ka­line earths. The al­ka­line earths were as­sumed to be el­ements un­til 1807, when Sir H. Davy showed that they were ox­ides of var­ious met­als. The met­als com­pris­ing this group are nev­er found in the un­com­bined con­di­tion, but oc­cur most of­ten in the form of car­bon­ates and sul­phates; they form ox­ides of the type RO, and in the case of cal­ci­um, stron­tium and bar­ium, of the type RO2. The ox­ides of type RO are sol­uble in wa­ter, the so­lu­tion pos­sess­ing a strong­ly al­ka­line re­ac­tion and rapid­ly ab­sorb­ing car­bon diox­ide on ex­po­sure; they are ba­sic in char­ac­ter and dis­solve read­ily in acids with the for­ma­tion of the cor­re­spond­ing salts. As the atom­ic weight of the el­ement in­creas­es, it is found that the sol­ubil­ity of the sul­phates in wa­ter de­creas­es.

Beryl­li­um to a cer­tain ex­tent stands alone in many of its chem­ical prop­er­ties, re­sem­bling to some ex­tent the met­al alu­mini­um. Beryl­li­um and mag­ne­sium are per­ma­nent in dry air; cal­ci­um, stron­tium and bar­ium, how­ev­er, ox­idize rapid­ly on ex­po­sure. The salts of all the met­als of this group usu­al­ly crys­tal­lize well, the chlo­rides and ni­trates dis­solve read­ily in wa­ter, whilst the car­bon­ates, phos­phates and sul­phates are ei­ther very spar­ing­ly sol­uble or are in­sol­uble in wa­ter.

AL­KA­LOID, in chem­istry, a term orig­inal­ly ap­plied to any or­gan­ic base, i.e. a ni­troge­nous sub­stance which forms salts with acids; now, how­ev­er, it is usu­al to re­strict the term to bases of veg­etable ori­gin and char­ac­ter­ized by re­mark­able tox­ico­log­ical ef­fects. Such bases oc­cur al­most ex­clu­sive­ly in the di­cotyle­dons, gen­er­al­ly in com­bi­na­tion with mal­ic, cit­ric, tar­tar­ic or sim­ilar plant-​acids. They may be ex­tract­ed by ex­haust­ing the plant-​tis­sues with a di­lute acid, and pre­cip­itat­ing the bases with potash, so­da, lime or mag­ne­sia. The sep­ara­tion of the mixed bases so ob­tained is ef­fect­ed by re­peat­ed frac­tion­al crys­tal­liza­tion, or by tak­ing ad­van­tage of cer­tain prop­er­ties of the con­stituents.

A chem­ical clas­si­fi­ca­tion of al­ka­loids is dif­fi­cult on ac­count of their com­plex con­sti­tu­tion. I. A. Wyschne­grad­sky, and af­ter­wards W. Konigs, ex­pressed the opin­ion that the al­ka­loids were deriva­tives of pyri­dine or quino­line. This view has been fair­ly well sup­port­ed by lat­er dis­cov­er­ies; but, in ad­di­tion to pyri­dine and quino­line nu­clei, al­ka­loids de­rived from iso­quino­line are known. The pure­ly chem­ical lit­er­ature on the al­ka­loids is es­pe­cial­ly vo­lu­mi­nous; and from the as­siduity with which the con­sti­tu­tions of these sub­stances have been and are still be­ing at­tacked, we may con­clude that their syn­the­sis is but a ques­tion of time. Piper­ine, co­nine, at­ropine, bel­lado­nine, co­caine, hyoscyamine and nico­tine have been al­ready syn­the­sized; the con­sti­tu­tion of sev­er­al oth­ers re­quires con­fir­ma­tion, while there re­main many im­por­tant al­ka­loids–qui­nine, mor­phine, strych­nine, &c.–whose con­sti­tu­tion re­mains un­known.

The fol­low­ing clas­si­fi­ca­tion is sim­ple and con­ve­nient; the list of al­ka­loids makes no pre­tence at be­ing ex­haus­tive.

(1) Pyri­dine group. Piper­ine; co­nine; trigonelline; are­cai­dine; gu­vacine; pi­lo­carpine; cyti­sine; nico­tine; sparteine. (2) Tropine group. Al­ka­loids char­ac­ter­ized by con­tain­ing the tropine (q.v.) nu­cle­us. At­ropine; co­caine; hy­grine; ec­go­nine; pel­letier­ine. (3) Quino­line group. The al­ka­loids of the quina-​barks: qui­nine, &c.; the strych­nos bases: strych­nine, brucine; and the ve­ra­trum al­ka­loids: ve­ra­trine, ce­va­dine, &c. (4) Iso­quino­line group. The opi­um al­ka­loids: mor­phine, codeine, the­baine, pa­paver­ine, nar­co­tine, nar­ceine, &c.; and the com­pli­cat­ed sub­stances hy­dras­tine and berber­ine. In ad­di­tion to the above se­ries there are a con­sid­er­able num­ber of com­pounds de­rived from purin which are by some writ­ers classed with the al­ka­loids. These are treat­ed in the ar­ti­cle PURIN. There are al­so rea­sons for in­clud­ing such com­pounds as mus­carine, choline, neurine and be­taine in this group.

The greater num­ber of these sub­stances are of con­sid­er­able medic­inal val­ue; this as­pect is treat­ed gen­er­al­ly in the ar­ti­cle PHAR­MA­COL­OGY. Ref­er­ence should al­so be made to the ar­ti­cles on the in­di­vid­ual al­ka­loids for fur­ther de­tails as to their medic­inal and chem­ical prop­er­ties.

The chem­istry of the al­ka­loids is treat­ed in de­tail by Ame Pictet in his La Con­sti­tu­tion chim­ique des al­ca­toides veg­etaux (Paris, 1897); en­larged and trans­lat­ed by H. C. Bid­dle wi­ih the ti­tle The Veg­etable Al­ka­loids (New Vork, 1904); and by J. W. Bruhl, F. HJelt, and O. As­chan: Die Pflanzen-​Al­ka­loide (1900). A pam­phlet, Die Al­ka­loid­chemie in den Jahren 1900-1904, by Julius Schmidt, may al­so be con­sult­ed.

ALKAN, CHARLES HEN­RI VALENTIN MORHANGE (1813-1888), French mu­si­cal com­pos­er, was born and died in Paris. Alkan was his nom de guerre. Ad­mit­ted to the Con­ser­va­toire of Paris in his sixth year, he had a dis­tin­guished ca­reer there un­til 1830. He vis­it­ed Lon­don in 1833, af­ter which he set­tled in Paris as a pi­anoforte teach­er till his death. He is im­por­tant as the com­pos­er of a large num­ber of pi­anoforte etudes, em­body­ing the most ex­trav­agant tech­ni­cal dif­fi­cul­ties. His in­ven­tion was not mod­ern enough to se­cure for these works that at­ten­tion which they de­serve as rep­re­sent­ing a pi­anoforte tech­nique and sense of ef­fect in some re­spects more ad­vanced even than that of Liszt, though lack­ing Liszt’s econ­omy and tact.

ALKA­NET (dim. from Span. al­cana, Arab. al-​hena = hen­na, Egyp­tian priv­et, or Law­so­nia in­er­mis), a plant, Alkan­na or An­chusa tinc­to­ria, of the or­der Bor­ag­inaceae, al­so known as or­chanet, dy­er’s bu­gloss, Span­ish bu­gloss or bu­gloss of Langue­doc, which is grown in the south of France and on the shores of the Lev­ant. Its root yields a fine red colour­ing mat­ter which has been used to tint tinc­tures, oils, wines, var­nish­es, &c.

AL KASR AL KE­BIR (“the great cas­tle,” in Span. AL­CAZAR KE­BIR, in Port. AL­CAC­ER QUBIR), a town of Mo­roc­co, on the riv­er Lekkus, 80 m. N.W. of Fez. Pop. about 10,000. Its mud and pan­tile dwellings are here and there re­lieved by a mosque tow­er, but the as­pect of the town is far from invit­ing. It is fre­quent­ly flood­ed in win­ter and in con­se­quence fever is preva­lent. The week­ly mar­ket, held on Sun­days in the cen­tre of the town, gives to the place an ap­pear­ance of bus­tle. A vice-​gov­er­nor is ap­point­ed for the town by the basha of Laraiche, one for the coun­try round by the sul­tan of Mo­roc­co, a con­di­tion which caus­es much con­fu­sion on mar­ket-​days. Al Kasr al Re­bir was built, ac­cord­ing to Leo Africanus, by Yakub el Mansur (1186-1199). Not far from the town, by the banks of the riv­er Mak­haz­an, is the site of the bat­tle fought in 1578 be­tween Dom Se­bas­tian, king of Por­tu­gal, and the Moors un­der Abd el Malek, in which the Moors were vic­to­ri­ous, though both kings per­ished, as well as the de­posed Ma­hommed XI., who had called in the Por­tuguese to his aid against Abd el Malek.

ALK­MAAR, a town in the province of North Hol­land, king­dom of Hol­land, 24 1/2 m. by rail N.N.W. of Am­ster­dam, con­nect­ed by steam-​tramway with Haar­lem and Am­ster­dam, and on the North Hol­land canal. Pop. (1900) 18,373. Alk­maar is a typ­ical North Hol­land town, with tree-​lined canals and bright­ly coloured 17th-​cen­tu­ry hous­es. The old city walls have been re­placed by pleas­ant gar­dens and walks, and there is a park in which stands a fine mon­ument (1876) by J. T. Stracke (1817- 1891), sym­bol­iz­ing Al­cmaria vic­trix, to com­mem­orate the siege by the Spaniards in 15