DIPLODOCUS, a gigantic extinct land reptile discovered in rocks of Upper Jurassic age in western North America, the best-known example of a Sauropodous Dinosaur. The first scattered remains of a skeleton were found in 1877 by Prof. S.W. Williston near Cañon City, Colorado; and the tail and hind-limb of this specimen were described in the following year by Prof. O.C. Marsh. He noticed that in the part of the tail which dragged on the ground, each chevron bone below the vertebral column consisted of a pair of bars; and as so peculiar an arrangement for the protection of the artery and vein beneath the tail had not previously been observed in any animal, he proposed the name Diplodocus (“double beam” or “double bar”) for the new reptile, adding the specific name longus in allusion to the elongated shape of the tail vertebrae. In 1884 Prof. Marsh described the head, vertebrae and pelvis of the same skeleton, which is now in the National Museum, Washington. In 1897 the next important specimen, a tail associated with other fragments, apparently of Diplodocus longus, was obtained by the American Museum of Natural History, New York, from Como Bluffs, Wyoming. In 1899-1900 large parts of two skeletons of another species, in a remarkable state of preservation, were disinterred by Messrs J. L. Wortman, O. A. Peterson and J. B. Hatcher in Sheep Creek, Albany county, Wyo., and these are now exhibited with minor discoveries in the Carnegie Museum, Pittsburg. There are also other specimens in New York, Chicago and the University of Wyoming. In 1901 Mr J. B. Hatcher studied the new species at Pittsburg, named it Diplodocus carnegii, and published the first restored sketch of a complete skeleton. Shortly afterwards plaster casts of the finest specimens were prepared under the direction of Mr J. B. Hatcher and Dr W. J. Holland, and these were skilfully combined to form the cast of a completely reconstructed skeleton, which was presented to the British Museum by Andrew Carnegie in 1905. This reconstruction is based primarily on a well-preserved chain of vertebrae, extending from the second cervical to the twelfth caudal, associated with the ribs, pelvis and several limb-bones. The tail is completed from two other specimens in the Carnegie Museum, having caudals 13 to 36 and 37 to 73 respectively in apparently unbroken series. Prof. Marsh’s specimen in Washington supplied the greater part of the skull; and the fore-foot is copied from a specimen in New York.
| Reconstructed Skeleton of Diplodocus carnegii, Hatcher, about one-hundredth natural size. A and B, Caudal Vertebrae Nos. 36 and 70 of the same are about one-quarter natural size. |
The cast of the reconstructed skeleton of Diplodocus carnegii measures 84 ft. in length and 12 ft. 9 in. in maximum height at the hind-limbs. It displays the elongated neck and tail and the relatively small head so characteristic of the Sauropodous Dinosaurs. The skull is inclined to the axis of the neck, denoting a browsing animal; while the feeble blunt teeth and flat expanded snout suggest feeding among succulent water-weeds. The large narial opening at the highest point of the head probably indicates an aquatic mode of life, and there seems to have been a soft valve to close the nostrils when under water. The diminutive brain-cavity, scarcely large enough to contain a walnut, is noteworthy. There are 104 vertebrae, namely, 15 in the neck, 11 in the back, 5 in the sacrum and 73 in the tail. The presacral vertebrae are of remarkably light construction, the plates and struts of bone being arranged to give the greatest strength with the least weight. The end of the tail is a flexible lash, which would probably be used as a weapon, like the tail of some existing lizards. The feet, notwithstanding the weight they had to support, are as unsymmetrical as those of a crocodile, with claws only on the three inner toes. There is no external armour.
See O. C. Marsh, Amer. Journ. Sci. ser. 3, vol. xvi. (1878), p. 414, pl. viii., and loc. cit. vol. xxvii. (1884), p. 161, pls. iii., iv.; H. F. Osborn, Mem. Amer. Mus. Nat. Hist. vol. i. pt. v. (1899); J. B. Hatcher, Mem. Carnegie Mus. vol. i. No. 1 (1901), and vol. ii. No. 1 (1903); W. J. Holland, Mem. Carnegie Mus. vol. ii. No. 6 (1906).
(A. S. Wo.)
DIPLOMACY (Fr. diplomatie), the art of conducting international negotiations. The word, borrowed from the French, has the same derivation as Diplomatic (q.v.), and, according to the New English Dictionary, was first used in England so late as 1796 by Burke. Yet there is no other word in the English language that could supply its exact sense. The need for such a term was indeed not felt; for what we know as diplomacy was long regarded, partly as falling under the Jus gentium or international law, partly as a kind of activity morally somewhat suspect and incapable of being brought under any system. Moreover, though in a certain sense it is as old as history, diplomacy as a uniform system, based upon generally recognized rules and directed by a diplomatic hierarchy having a fixed international status, is of quite modern growth even in Europe. It was finally established only at the congresses of Vienna (1815) and Aix-la-Chapelle (1818), while its effective extension to the great monarchies of the East, beyond the bounds of European civilization, was comparatively an affair of yesterday. So late as 1876 it was possible for the writer on this subject in the 9th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica to say that “it would be an historical absurdity to suppose diplomatic relations connecting together China, Burma and Japan, as they connect the great European powers.”
Principles.—Though diplomacy has been usually treated under the head of international law, it would perhaps be more consonant with the facts to place international law under diplomacy. The principles and rules governing the intercourse of states, defined by a long succession of international lawyers, have no sanction save the consensus of the powers, established and maintained by diplomacy (see [Balance of Power]); in so far as they have become, by international agreement, more than mere pious opinions of theorists, they are working rules established for mutual convenience, which it is the function of diplomacy to safeguard or to use for its own ends. In any case they by no means cover the whole field of diplomatic activity; and, were they swept away, the art of diplomacy, developed through long ages of experience, would survive.
This experience may perhaps be called the science, as distinct from the art, of diplomacy. It covers not only the province of international law, but the vast field of recorded experience which we know as history, of which indeed international law is but a part; for, as Bielfeld in his Institutions politiques (La Haye, 1760, t. I. ch. ii. § 13) points out, “public law is founded on facts. To know it we must know history, which is the soul of this science as of politics in general.” The broad outlook on human affairs implied in “historical sense” is more necessary to the diplomatist under modern conditions than in the 18th century, when international policy was still wholly under the control of princes and their immediate advisers. Diplomacy was then a game of wits played in a narrow circle. Its objects too were narrower; for states were practically regarded as the property of their sovereigns, which it was the main function of their “agents” to enlarge or to protect, while scarcely less important than the preservation or rearrangement of territorial boundaries was that of precedence and etiquette generally, over which an incredible amount of time was wasted. The haute diplomatie thus resolved itself into a process of exalted haggling, conducted with an utter disregard of the ordinary standards of morality, but with the most exquisite politeness and in accordance with ever more and more elaborate rules. Much of the outcome of these dead debates has become stereotyped in the conventions of the diplomatic service; but the character of diplomacy itself has undergone a great change. This change is threefold: firstly, as the result of the greater sense of the community of interests among nations, which was one of the outcomes of the French Revolution; secondly, owing to the rise of democracy, with its expression in parliamentary assemblies and in the press; thirdly, through the alteration in the position of the diplomatic agent, due to modern means of communication.
The first of these changes may be dated to the circular of Count Kaunitz of the 17th of July 1791, in which, in face of the Revolution, he impressed upon the powers the duty of making common cause for the purpose of preserving “public peace, the tranquillity of states, the inviolability of possessions, and the faith of treaties.” The duty of watching over the common interests of Europe, or of the world, was thus for the first time officially recognized as a function of diplomacy, since common action could only be taken as the result of diplomatic negotiations. It would be easy to exaggerate the effective results of this idea, even when it had crystallized in the Grand Alliance of 1814 and been proclaimed to the world in the Holy Alliance of the 26th of September 1815 and the declaration of Aix-la-Chapelle. The cynical picture given by La Bruyère of the diplomatist of the 18th century still remained largely true: “His talk is only of peace, of alliances, of the public tranquillity, and of the public interests; in reality he is thinking only of his own, that is to say, of those of his master or of his republic.”[1] The proceedings of the congress of Vienna proved how little the common good weighed unless reinforced by particular interests; but the conception of “Europe” as a political entity none the less survived. The congresses, notably the congress of Aix-la-Chapelle (q.v.) in 1818, were in a certain sense European parliaments, and their ostensible object was the furtherance of common interests. Had the imperial dreamer Alexander I. of Russia had his way, they would have been permanently established on the broad basis of the Holy Alliance, and would have included, not the great powers only, but representatives of every state (see [Alexander I.] and [Europe] : History). Whatever the effective value of that “Concert of Europe” which was the outcome of the period of the congresses, it certainly produced a great effect on the spirit and the practice of diplomacy. In the congresses and conferences diplomacy assumes international functions both legislative and administrative. The diplomat is responsible, not only to his own government, but to “Europe.” Thus Castlereagh was accused of subordinating the interests of Great Britain to those of Europe; and the same charge was brought, perhaps with greater justice, against Metternich in respect of Austria. Canning’s principle of “Every nation for itself and God for us all!” prevailed, it is true, over that of Alexander’s “Confederation of Europe”; yet, as one outcome of the congresses, every diplomatic agent, though he represents the interests of his own state, has behind him the whole body of the treaties which constitute the public law of the world, of which he is in some sort the interpreter and the guardian.