[1] The group Arthropoda itself, thus constituted, was precisely identical in its area with the Insecta of Linnaeus, the Entoma of Aristotle. But the word “Insect” had become limited since the days of Linnaeus to the Hexapod Pterygote forms, to the exclusion of his Aptera. Lamarck’s penetrating genius is chiefly responsible for the shrinkage of the word Insecta, since it was he who, forty years after Linnaeus’s death, set up and named the two great classes Crustacea and Arachnida (included by Linnaeus under Insecta as the order “Aptera”), assigning to them equal rank with the remaining Insecta of Linnaeus, for which he proposed the very appropriate class-name “Hexapoda.” Lamarck, however, appears not to have insisted on this name Hexapoda, and so the class of Pterygote Hexapods came to retain the group-name Insecta, which is, historically or etymologically, no more appropriate to them than it is to the classes Crustacea and Arachnida. The tendency to retain the original name of an old and comprehensive group for one of the fragments into which such group becomes divided by the advance of knowledge—instead of keeping the name for its logical use as a comprehensive term, including the new divisions, each duly provided with a new name—is most curiously illustrated in the history of the word physiology. Cicero says, “Physiologia naturae ratio,” and such was the meaning of the name Physiologus, given to a cyclopaedia of what was known and imagined about earth, sea, sky, birds, beasts and fishes, which for a thousand years was the authoritative source of information on these matters, and was translated into every European tongue. With the revival of learning, however, first one and then another special study became recognized—anatomy, botany, zoology, mineralogy, until at last the great comprehensive term physiology was bereft of all its once-included subject-matter, excepting the study of vital processes pursued by the more learned members of the medical profession. Professional tradition and an astute perception on their part of the omniscience suggested by the terms, have left the medical men in English-speaking lands in undisturbed but illogical possession of the words physiology, physic and physician.
[2] H. Milne-Edwards, who was followed by Huxley, long ago formulated the conclusion that the eye-stalks of Crustacea are modified appendages, basing his argument on a specimen of Palinurus (figured in Bateson’s book (1), in which the eye-stalk of one side is replaced by an antenniform palp. Hofer (6) in 1894 described a similar case in Astacus.
[3] Embryological evidence of this is still wanting. In the other classes of Arthropoda we have more or less complete embryological evidence on the subject. It appears from observation of the embryo that whilst the first prosthomere of Centipedes has its appendages reduced and represented only by eye-patches (as in Arachnida, Crustacea and Hexapoda). the second has a rudimentary antenna, which disappears, whilst the third carries the permanent antennae, which accordingly correspond to the second antennae of Crustacea, and are absent in Hexapoda.
ARTHUR (Fr. Artus), the central hero of the cycle of romance known as the Matière de Bretagne (see [Arthurian Legend]). Whether there was an historic Arthur has been much debated; undoubtedly for many centuries after the appearance of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Britonum (circ. 1136), the statements therein recorded of a mighty monarch, who ruled over Britain in the 5th-6th centuries, and carried his conquests far afield, even to the gates of Rome, obtained general, though not universal, credence. Even in the 12th century there were some who detected, and derided, the fictitious character of Geoffrey’s “History.” As was naturally to be expected, the pendulum swung to the other extreme, and in a more critical age the existence of Arthur was roundly denied. The truth probably lies midway between the two. The words of Wace, the Norman poet who translated the Historia into verse, are here admirably to the point. Speaking of the tales told of Arthur, he says:—
| “Ne tot mençunge, ne tot veir, Ne tot fable, ne tot saveir, Tant ont li contéor conté, Et li fabléor tant fablé Por lor contes embeleter Que tout ont fait fable sembler.”[1] |
The opinion now generally accepted by scholars is that the evidence of Nennius, whose Historia Britonum preceded that of Geoffrey by some 400 years, is in the main to be relied on. He tells us that Arthur was Dux bellorum, and led the armies of the British kings against the Saxon invaders, whom he defeated in twelve great battles. Tunc Arthur pugnabat cum regibus Britonum, sed ipse dux erat bettorum.
The traditional site of these battles covers a very wide area, and it is supposed that Arthur held a post analogous to that of the general who, under the Roman occupation, was known as Comes Britanniae, and held a roving commission to defend the island wherever attacked, in contradistinction to the Dux Britanniarum, who had charge of the forces in the north, and the Comes Littoris Saxonici, whose task it was to defend the south-east line. The Welsh texts never call Arthur gwledig (prince), but amheradawr (Latin imperator) or emperor, a title which would be bestowed on the highest official in the island. The truth thus appears to be that, while there was never a King Arthur, there was a noted chieftain and general of that name. If we say that he carried on a successful war against the Saxons, was probably betrayed by his wife and a near kinsman, and fell in battle, we have stated all which can be claimed as an historical nucleus for his legend. It is now generally admitted that the representation of Arthur as world conqueror, Welt-Kaiser, is due to the influence of the Charlemagne cycle. In the 12th century the Matière de France was waning, the Matière de Bretagne waxing in popularity, and public opinion demanded that the central figure of the younger cycle (for whatever the date of the subject matter, as a literary cycle the Arthurian is the younger) should not be inferior in dignity and importance to that of the earlier. When we add to this the fact that the writers of the 12th century represented the personages and events of the 6th in the garb, and under the conditions, of their own time, we can understand the reason of the manifold difficulties which beset the study of the cycle.
But into the figure of Arthur as we know him, other elements have entered; he is not merely an historic personality, but at the same time a survival of pre-historic myth, a hero of romance, and a fairy king; and all these threads are woven together in one fascinating but bewildering web. It is only possible here to summarize the leading features which may be claimed as characteristic of each phase.
Mythic.—Certain elements of the story point to Arthur as a culture hero; as such his name has been identified with the Mercurius Artaius of the Gauls. In this role he slays monsters, the boar Twrch Trwyth, the giant of Mont St Michel and the Demon Cat of Losanne (André de Coutances tells us that Arthur was really vanquished and carried off by the Cat, but that one durst not tell that tale before Britons!). He never, it should be noted, rides on purely chivalric ventures, such as aiding distressed damsels, seeking the Grail, &c. His expeditions are all more or less warlike. The story of his youth belongs, as Alfred Nutt (Folk-lore, vol. iv.) has shown, to the group of tales classified as the Aryan Expulsion and Return formula, found in all Aryan lands. Numerous parallels exist between the Arthurian and early Irish heroic cycles, notably the Fenian or Ossianic. This Fenian cycle is very closely connected with the Tuatha de Danaan, the Celtic deities of vegetation and increase; recent research has shown that two notable features of the Arthurian story, the Round Table and the Grail, can be most reasonably accounted for as survivals of this Nature worship, and were probably parts of the legend from the first.