varied+in+form

   Under the Portuguese monarchy, an assembly of the three estates (clergy, nobility, commoners) of the kingdom. While historians debate its historical origins, its earliest form as an assembly that was more than a royal council was present before 1211. At first only clerical and noble groups were represented, and later representatives from the towns. Its business was to discuss fiscal matters (taxes), and it was convened by the Portuguese monarch. The Cortes's powers and functions varied, but its golden age of prestige coincided with the 14th and 15th centuries. As the monarchy acquired more independent wealth from the overseas expansion and empire, it depended less on the Cortes for revenue. Under King João III, as the monarchy garnered greater power and control, the Cortes was seldom consulted, and the king was asked to call the Cortes to meet at least every 10 years. While it met during the 17th century, it did not meet at all during the reigns of the absolutist kings João V (1689-1750) and José I (1750-77). The last Cortes met in 1828, in order to acclaim King Miguel I (1828-64) as an absolutist monarch. Later, under the subsequent constitutional monarchy (1834-1910), the Cortes came to be elective and was given different names: Congress, National Assembly, Assembly of the Republic.

    See also Filipe I, king; Legislatures.

B Interrog. Pron. τίς, Elean and [dialect] Lacon. τίρ (q.v.), τί:—gen. [dialect] Ep. and [dialect] Ion.

τέο Il.2.225

, Herod.8.1, etc., or

τεῦ Od.15.509

, Hdt.5.106, etc.; Trag. and [dialect] Att.

τοῦ A.Pr. 614

, Ar.Nu. 1223, etc.; [dialect] Ion., Trag., and [dialect] Att.

τίνος Simon.154

, Hdt.6.80, A.Pr. 563 (anap.), S.Aj. 892, Ar Ach. 588, etc.; dat. [dialect] Ion.

τέῳ Hdt.1.11

, al. (as fem., 4.155); no dat. in Hom. or Hes.; Trag. and [dialect] Att.

τῷ S.Ant. 401

, D.19.60, etc.; [dialect] Aeol.

τίῳ Sapph.104

; τίνι first in Pi.N.7.57, A.Pers. 715 (troch.), S.OT10, Ar. Ach. 919, Hdt.3.38, Th.1.80, D.20.115, etc.; acc.

τίνα Il.5.703

, etc.; neut.

τί 1.362

, etc.: dual τίνε (elided) Ar.Av. 107: pl.. nom.

τίνες Od. 1.172

, etc.; neut.

τίνα Pl.Phd. 102a

, Aeschin.2.81, Hipparch.1.1.4, Gem.17.12, Ep.Hebr.5.12; gen. [dialect] Ep.

τέων Il.24.387

, Od.20.192, and as monosyll. 6.119, 13.200; Trag. and [dialect] Att.

τίνων S.El. 1476

, OC 2, Ar.Nu. 1089, etc.; dat. τίσι first in S.OT 1126, Ar.Ra. 1455, Pl.R. 332d, etc. (no dat. in Hom. or Hes.); also

τοῖσι S.Tr. 984

(anap.); [dialect] Ion.

τέοισι Hdt.1.37

, cf. 2.82 (v.l. ὁτέοισι); [dialect] Aeol.

τίοισι Sapph.168

; acc.

τίνας S.OC 115

, Ar.Av. 370 (troch.); neut.

τίνα Arr.Epict.1.30.3

; [dialect] Boeot. τά Pi.O.1.82 (Adv.); Megar.

σά Ar.Ach. 757

, 784 (Adv.): of the pl. Hom. uses only nom. τίνες with gen. τέων; ποῖος (what? which?) is sts. preferred (esp. in neut. pl.) to the Adj. τίς, e.g. τὰ ποῖα ταῦτα χρήματα; Ar.Nu. 1270, cf. 1337, Th. 621, Pl.Cra. 391e, 395d, 406d; v. ποῖος 1.3 and IV:

I in direct questions, who? which? neut. what? which? ὦ ξεῖνοι, τίνες ἐστέ; Od.9.252; τί νύ μοι μήκιστα γένηται; 5.299; τίς δαίμων τόδε πῆμα προσήγαγε; 17.446; τίς ἀχώ, τίς ὀδμὰ προσέπτα μ' ἀφεγγής; A.Pr. 115 (lyr.), cf. 561 (anap.), etc.; properly at the beginning of the sentence; but this position may be varied,

a for grammatical reasons, as between the Art. and part. or noun, τοὺς τί ποιοῦντας τὸ ὄνομα τοῦτο ἀποκαλοῦσιν; X.Mem.2.2.1, cf. Pl.Smp. 206b; τῆς περὶ τί πειθοῦς ἡ ῥητορική ἐστιν τέχνη; Id.Grg. 454a; ὁ σοφιστὴς τῶν τί σοφῶν ἐστιν; Id.Prt. 312d.

b for emphasis, ἃ δ' ἐννέπεις, κλύουσα τοῦ λέγεις; S.OC 412, cf. El. 1191; πόλις τε ἀφισταμένη τίς πω.. τούτῳ ἐπεχείρησε; Th.3.45; esp. when the Verb begins the sentence, δράσεις δὲ δὴ τί; E.HF 1246; ἦλθες δὲ κατὰ τί; Ar.Nu. 239; διαφέρει δὲ τί; D.18.205.--The person freq. follows in gen. pl., as τίς θεῶν; Il.18.182, etc.; and of things or conditions, τί is freq. with the genit. sg., of all genders, πρὸς τί χρείας; S.OT 1174; ἐλπίδων ἐς τί; Id.OC 1749 codd. (lyr.);

κἀνήρετ' ἐν τῷ πράγματος κυροῖ ποτε Id.Aj. 314

, etc.

2 sts. as the predicate, τίς ὀνομάζεται; what is he named? E.Ph. 123; so also may be expld. the union of τίς with a demonstr. or possess. Pron., or with a Noun preceded by the Art., τί τοῦτ' ἔλεξας; S.Ph. 1173 (lyr.); τί ἐστι τουτί; τίς ὁ τρόπος τοῦ τάγματος; Id.Ichn.114; also with Pron. in pl., τί ταῦτα; E.Ph. 382, Andr. 548, etc.; τί γὰρ τάδ' ἐστίν; Ar.Nu. 200; τί ποτ' ἐστίν, ἂ διανοούμεθα; Pl.Tht. 154e; τί ποτ' ἐστὶ ταῦτα; ib. 155c;

σκεπτέον τί τὰ συμβαίνοντα Id.Grg. 508b

; so τί is used as predicate of a masc. or fem. subject, τί νιν προσείπω; A.Ch. 983(997); τί σοι φαίνεται ὁ νεανίσκος; Pl.Chrm. 154d:—also τίς δ' ὅδε Ναυσικάᾳ ἕπεται; who is this that follows N.? Od.6.276; τίς δ' οὗτος ἔρχεαι; Il.10.82, cf. Alc.84.1, S.El. 328, 388, Ant.7, 218, E.Hec. 501, Pl.Cri. 43c; and in the reverse order, τήνδε τίνα λεύσσω.. ; who is this I see? E.IA 821; τίνι οὖν τοιούτῳ φίλους ἂν θηρῴην; with what means of such kind.. ? X.Mem.3.11.9; τί τοσοῦτον νομίζοντες ἠδικῆσθαι; Id.Smp.4.53; τί με τὸ δεινὸν ἐργάσῃ; what is the dreadful thing which.. ? E.Ba. 492, cf. S.OC 598, 1488, etc.; τίν' ὄψιν σὴν προσδέρκομαι; what face is this I see of thine? E.Hel. 557; παρὰ τίνας τοὺς ὑμᾶς; who are 'you' to whom [I am to come]? Pl.Ly. 203b:—the Art. is exceptionally added to τίς, when it leads up to a word which requires the Art., ληφθήσει.. Πανήμου εἰκάδι· καὶ Λῴου τῇ--τίνι; τῇ δεκάτῃ on the twentieth of the month Panemus and of Loüs on the -- what day? the tenth, Call.Epigr.46:—in Com.also τὸ τί; what is that? Ar.Nu. 775, Pax 696, Av. 1039, Pl. 902, etc.; τοῦ τίνος χάριν; UPZ6.29 (ii B.C.); and with pl. Art., τὰ τί; Ar. Pax 693.

3 with prop. names treated as appellatives (v. τις indef. 11.6b), τίς ἆρα Κύπρις ἢ τίς Ἵμερος; S.Fr. 874; τίς σε Θηρικλῆς ποτε ἔτευξε; Eub.43; τίς.. Χίμαιρα πύρπνοος; Anaxil.22.3.

4 τίς ἂν θεῶν.. δοίη; like πῶς ἄν, would that some one.., S.OC 1100, cf. A.Ag. 1448 (lyr.).

5 a question with τίς often amounts to a strong negation, τῶν δ' ἄλλων τίς κεν οὐνόματ' εἴποι; Il.17.260; τίς ἂν ἐξεύροι ποτ' ἄμεινον; Ar.Pl. 498; τίνες ἂν δικαιότερον.. μισοῖντο; Th.3.64, etc.

6 sts. two questions are asked in one clause by different cases of τίς; ἡ τίσιν τί ἀποδιδοῦσα τέχνη δικαιοσύνη ἂν καλοῖτο; Pl.R. 332d;

τί λαβόντα τί δεῖ ποιεῖν D.4.36

:—a like doubling of the question lies in the union of τίς with other interrog. words, τίς πόθεν εἰς ( εἶς codd.) ἀνδρῶν; Od.1.170, cf. S.Tr. 421.

7 τίς with Particles:— τίς γάρ; why who? who possibly? τίς γάρ σε θεῶν.. ἧκεν; Il.18.182; v. infr. 8 f.

b τίς δέ; ὦ κοῦραι, τίς δ' ὔμμιν.. πωλεῖται; h.Ap. 169.

c τίς δή; who then?

τίς δή κεν βροτὸς.. ἅζοιτ' ἀθανάτους Thgn.747

; τίς δῆτα; S.Aj. 518.

d τίς ποτε; who in the world? who ever? τίς ποτ' ὢν γενεὰν καὶ ποίαν τινὰ φύσιν ἔχων; X.Cyr.1.1.6, cf. S.El. 975; τίς δήποτε; Id.Fr. 106 (but τίς ἄν ποτε is prob. cj.).

8 the usages of the neut. τί; are very various:

a τί; alone, as a simple question, what? τί γάρ; A.Th. 336 (lyr.):—on ὅτι τί; ὅτι τί δή; ὅτι δὴ τί; v. ὅτι B. 1b; on ὡς τί; v. ὡς F.1.

b τί τοῦτο; τί ταῦτα; v. supr. 2.

c τί μοι; τί σοι; what is it to me? to thee? S.Ph.753, etc.; c. gen., τί μοι ἔριδος καὶ ἀρωγῆς; what have I to do with.. ? Il.21.360; τί δέ σοι ταῦτα; Ar.Lys.514, cf. Ec.521 (where the answerer repeats the question in indirect form, ὅ τί μοι τοῦτ' ἔστιν;) ; ἀλλὰ δὴ τί τοῦτ' ἐμοί; Diph.32.18; τί ἐμοὶ καὶ σοί; what have I to do with thee? LXX Jd.11.12, Arr.Epict.2.19.19, Ev.Jo.2.4; τί σοὶ καὶ εἰρήνῃ; LXX 4 Ki.9.18, cf. Ho.14.9; τί πρὸσσέ; M.Ant.8.44, cf.Ev.Matt.27.4; σοὶ δὲ καὶ τούτοισι τοῖσι πρήγμασι τί ἐστι; what have you to do with these matters? Hdt.5.33; τί τῷ νόμῳ καὶ τῇ βασάνῳ; D.29.36:—folld. by a clause, τί δὲ τίν, εἰ κωτίλαι εἰμές; Theoc.15.89; or with inf., τί γάρ μοι τοὺς ἔξω κρίνειν; 1 Ep.Cor.5.12:—v. εἰμί c.111.2.

d τίμαθών; τί παθών; v. μανθάνω v,

πάσχω 111.4

.

e τί; also often stands abs. as Adv. how? why? wherefore? Il.1.362, etc.; so too in [dialect] Att., Pl.Cri. 43c, etc.; δόμων γὰρ ζῶσι τῶνδε δεσπόται. Answ. τί ζῶσιν; how do you mean

ζῶσι ζῶσι

forsooth!

E.Alc. 806

; Κιθαιρὼν--Answ. τί Κιθαιρών; what aboutK.? Id.Ba. 1177 codd., cf. 1182 (both lyr.); cf. τίη.

f τί with Particles: - τί γάρ; why not? how else? and so it came to mean of course, no doubt, A.Ag. 1239, Ch. 880, Eu. 678, etc.; used in affirmative answers, Pl.Phdr. 258d, Tht. 209b, al.; to introduce an argument, Arist.Pol. 1281a14; v. γάρ 1.4:— τί δαί; v. δαί:— τί δέ; serving to pass on quickly to a fresh point, Pl.Hp.Ma. 288c, al.; τί δέ, εἰ.. ; but what, if.. ? E.Hel. 1043; τί δ' ἄν, εἰ.. ; Ar.Th. 773; τί δ' ἢν.. ; Id.Nu. 1444; τί δέ, εἰ μὴ.. ; what else but.. ? X.Oec.9.1, cf. S.OT 941, Ph. 421; so τί δὲ δή; τί δή; τί δή ποτε; why ever? why in the world? what do you mean? Pl.R. 470e, Grg. 469a, Sph. 241d, S.El. 1184:—so also τί δῆτα; how, pray? τί δῆτ' ἄν, εἰ.. ; Ar.Nu. 154:— ( τί μή; f.l. in S.Aj. 668):— τί μήν; i.e. yes certainly, much like τί γάρ; Pl.Tht. 162e, etc., prob. in S.Aj. 668:— τί μὴν οὔ; in reply to a question, Id.El. 1280 (lyr.):— τί νυ; why now? Il.1.414, etc.:— τί δ' οὔ; parenthetic, why not? as an affirmative answer, S.Ant. 460; τί οὐ καλοῦμεν; i.e. let us call, Ar.Lys. 1103; τί οὐ βαδίζομεν; etc., Pl.Prt. 310e, etc.:— τί οὖν; how so? making an objection, A.Th. 208; but τί οὖν ἔτ' ἂν σαίνοιμεν.. μόρον; ib. 704; τί οὖν οὐκ ἐρωτᾷς; Pl.Ly. 211d:— τί ποτε; v. τίπτε;

g with Conjunctions following:—τί ὅτι.. ; why is it that.. ? Stratt.62 (f.l.), LXX Ge. 3.1, Ev.Luc.2.49, etc.:—with Conjunctions preceding, ἵνα τί; v. ἵνα B. 11.3 c.

h with Preps.:— διὰ τί; wherefore? Ar.Pl. 1111, etc.:— ἐκ τίνος; from what cause? X.An.5.8.4:— ἐς τί; to what point? how long? Il.5.465; but also, to what end? S.Tr. 403, cf. OC 524 (lyr.):— κατὰ τί; for what purpose? Ar.Nu. 239:— πρὸς τί; wherefore? S.OT 766, 1027, etc.

II τίς is sts. used for ὅστις in indirect questions,

εἰρώτα δὴ ἔπειτα τίς εἴη καὶ πόθεν ἔλθοι Od.15.423

, cf. 17.368;

δεῖξον τίς ἔσται τῇ ταλαιπώρῳ χρόνος A.Pr. 623

; οὐδ' ἔχω τίς ἂν γενοίμαν ib. 905 (lyr.);

οὐκ ἔχω τί φῶ Id.Ch.91

, cf. S.OC48, etc.;

ἐπισκεψώμεθα τίνες πέπανται σφενδόνας X.An.3.3.18

; εἰπὲ τίνα γνώμην ἔχεις ib.2.2.10; freq. in later Gr., where ὅστις is very rare,

εἰς τὸ λογιστήριον γράφων.. τί ὀφείλεται PHib.1.29.42

(iii B.C.), cf. PCair.Zen. 21.40, al. (iii B.C.); οὐθεὶς ἐσήμηνεν παρὰ τί ἂν τοῖς προστεταγμένοις.. οὐ κατηκολούθησαν nobody indicated why they should not have obeyed orders, PTeb.72.160, cf. 61 (b). 227 (ii B.C.); ὅστις and τίς are sts. combined,

ὡς πύθοιθ' ὅ τι δρῶν ἢ τί φωνῶν ῥυσαίμην S.OT71

, cf. A.Pr. 489 sq., 617, 623:—later with inf., τί πράττειν οὐκ ἔχω I do not know what to do, Aesop.67, cf. Ps.-Luc.Philopatr.29.

b sts. not in indirect questions, whoever, whatever,

αἰτοῦ τί χρῄζεις ἕν E.Fr.773.2

; ταῦτα οὐκ ἀπέστελλον πάντα, ἀλλ' ἐκλεγόμενοι τίνων αἱ τιμαὶ ἐπετέταντο whatever things had risen in price, D.56.24; τίνα δ' ἁ Κύπρις οὐκ ἐφίλησεν whomsoever K. has not loved, AP5.169 (Noss.); τίνι ἡ τύχη δίδωσι, λαβέτω Antiochusap.Ptol.Euerg.3 J.;

λαμβανέτω τί θέλει AP12.219

(Strat.);

τὰν ὀνάλαν κίς κε γινύειτει IG 9(2).517.22

(Larissa, iii B.C.); καὶ τί ἂν εἶ ( = ᾖ) λοιπόν ib.5(1).1390.50 (Andania, i B.C., nisi leg. καἴ τι ἂν, v. supr.A. 111.2e);

τίς ἂν δὲ χεῖρα προσαγάγῃ Epigr.Gr.376a

([place name] Aezani);

τίς σοφός, αὐτῷ προσκολλήθητι LXXSi.6.34

;

οὐ τί ἐγὼ θίλω, ἀλλὰ τί σύ Ev.Marc.14.36

; τίς σοφίῃ πάντων πρῶτος, τούτου τρίποδ' αὐδῶ Orac. ap. D.S.9.3 et ap.D.L. 1.28 codd. (ὃς Cobet from Sch.Ar.Pl.9);

χαῖρε καὶ σύ, τίς ποτ' εἶ IG9

(2).953 ([place name] Larissa), cf. CIG 1982 ([place name] Thessalonica); in other places, as S.El. 1176, Tr. 339, OT 1144, E. Ion 324, this constr. cannot be admitted.

c τίς = ὅστις after a neg., μή τίς ἐστιν ἐν ὑμῖν ἀνὴρ ἢ γυνὴ.., τίνος ἡ διάνοια ἐξέκλινεν κτλ.; LXX De.29.18.

d = ὅς or

ὅσπερ, τέων.. Ζεὺς ἐπὶ σαλπίγγων ἱρὰ βοῇ δέχεται Κᾶρες ὁμοῦ Λελέγεσσι Call.Aet.3.1.60

, cf. Del. 185, Epigr.30.2, Nic.Al.2;

Δωροθέαν, τίς τὸν ἐμὸν ἄνδρα εἶχε Tab.Defix.Aud.10.4

(Cnidus, ii/i B.C.), cf. 5.2,8;

τίνας ἱερεωσύνας εἶχον ἐπενεγύων SIG705.43

, cf. 56 (Senatus consultum, Delph., ii B.C.);

τίνα με ὑπονοεῖτε εἶναι, οὐκ εἰμὶ ἐγώ Act.Ap. 13.25

; τίς ἔζησεν ἔτη β who lived.., IG14.1560 ([place name] Rome), cf. 1391 (ibid.);

εὗρον γεωργόν, τίς αὐτὰ ἑλκύσῃ BGU822.5

(ii/iii A.D.).

2 τίς; τί; in direct or indirect questions may be construed with a part., σὺ δὲ τίς ὢν ταῦτα λέγεις; being who, i.e. who are you that.. ? Pl.Grg. 452a;

ἐπειρέσθαι.. τίνες ἐόντες ἄνθρωποι.. ταῦτα προαγορεύουσι Hdt.1.153

; καταμεμάθηκας.. τοὺς τί ποιοῦντας τὸ ὄνομα τοῦτο ἀποκαλοῦσι; X.Mem.2.2.1; or in a subordinate clause, ἀλλ' ὅταν τί ποιήσωσι, νομιεῖς αὐτοὺς σοῦ φροντίζειν; ib.1.4.14; νῦν δ' ἐπειδὴ τίνος τέχνης ἐπιστήμων ἐστί, τίνα ἂν καλοῦντες αὐτὸν ὀρθῶς καλοῖμεν; Pl. Grg. 448c.

III = πότερος; X.Cyr.1.3.17, Pl.Phlb. 52d, Ev.Matt. 27.21, Ev.Luc.5.23.

IV τί as exclamatory Adv., how.. !

τί ὡραιώθησαν σιαγόνες σου ὡς τρυγόνες LXX Ca.1.10

, cf. 4.10; τί θέλω how I wish! Ev.Luc.12.49; τί στενή v.l. in Ev.Matt.7.14.

C Prosody: τις and τίς keep [pron. full] ῐ in all cases (digamma operates in Il.6.462, etc.).

II τί was never elided; but hiatus is allowed after τί in [dialect] Ep. τί ἢ (v. τίη), also in Com., as τί οὐ; Ar.Av. 149; τί οὖν; Id.Pl.94; τί ἔστι; Id.Nu.82, Av. 1036; τί, ὦ πάτερ; Id.Nu. 80:—a licence which is rarer in Trag., τί ἔστιν; S.Ph. 733; τί οὖν; A.Th. 208, 704, Eu. 902, S.Aj. 873 (lyr.), Ph. 100, etc.; τί εἶπας; Id.Tr. 1203, Ph. 917.

ἐξαλλ-άσσω, [dialect] Att. [suff] ἐξάλλ-ττω,

A change utterly or quite, strengthd. for

ἀλλάσσω, ἐσθῆτα E.Hel. 1297

;

τινὰς κοσμήσεσι Plu.Thes.23

;

αἰὼν.. ἄλλ' ἄλλοτ' ἐξάλλαξεν Pi.I.3.18

.

b intr., of evolution,

τὰ δὲ.. ἐξαλλάσσει ἐς τὴν μέζω τάξιν Hp.Vict.1.6

;

ἐ. γένος εἰς ἕτερον

degenerate,

Thphr.HP8.8.3

:—[voice] Pass., ἐξηλλαγμένος πρός τι ib.4.4.14.

c [voice] Med., κακοῖσιν ὅστις μηδὲν ἐξαλλάσσεται who sees no change take place in his miseries, S.Aj. 474:—[voice] Pass.,

ἰδιωτικῆς ἑστίας ἐξηλλαγμένη ἡγεμονία D.S.10

Fr. 20.

2 Rhet., vary common words and phrases,

ἐ. τὸ εἰωθός Arist. Rh. 1406a15

, cf. 1404b8; ἐ. τὸ ἰδιωτικόν vary the common idiom, Id.Po. 1458a21; ἐξηλλαγμένον [ὄνομα] altered form, ib. 1458a5: c. gen.,

ἐξηλλαγμένος τινός

different from,

Isoc.8.63

.

b [tense] pf. part. [voice] Pass.

ἐξηλλαγμένος

extraordinary, strange,

Plb.2.37.6

, D.S.1.94, Ant.Lib. 41.8, etc.; varied,

ὄφεις ταῖς ποικιλίαις ἐ. D.S.17.90

.

3 c. acc. loci, withdraw from, leave,

Εὐρώπαν E.IT 135

(lyr.).

II ἐ. τί τινος withdraw or remove from,

τὴν ἑαυτοῦ γύμνωσιν ἐ. τῶν ἐναντίων Th.5.71

.

2 intr., change from,

τῆς ἀρχαίας μορφῆς Arist.GA 766a26

; μικρὸν ἐ. exceed the limit by a little, Id.Po. 1449b13;

ἐ. ἀπὸ τῆς νεώς Philostr.Her.Prooem.3

;

ἐς ἄνδρας Id.VA3.28

: abs., ἐξαλλάσσουσα χάρις unusual, rare grace, E.IA 564 (lyr.); to be different from,

πάντων τῶν παρ' ἡμῖν Phld.Sign.9

.

b ἐξαλλάσσουσαι στολαί changes of raiment, v.l. in LXX Ge.45.22.

3 turn another way, move back and forward,

κερκίδα E.Tr. 200

(lyr.); ἐ. δρόμον change one's course, X.Cyn.10.7; ποίαν (sc. ὁδόν) ἐξαλλάξω; which other way shall I take? E.Hec. 1060 (lyr.).

4 divert, amuse, Men.747, Philippid.35; coax, win over,

ὀψαρίοις POxy.531.18

(ii A.D.).

1  varied in shape (and form) ⇒ multiform, 〈 wetenschappelijk〉 polymorphous, 〈 wetenschappelijk〉 polymorphic

SUBJECT AREA: Steam and internal combustion engines

[br]

[br]

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Allen was taken to the United States from England when he was 12 years old. He became an engineer on the Curlew, a freight boat running between New York and Providence. A defect which caused the engine to race in rough weather led Allen to invent a new valve gear, but he found it could not be fitted to the Corliss engine. In 1856 he patented an improved form of valve and operating gear to reduce back-pressure in the cylinder, which was in fact the reverse of what happened in his later engines. In 1860 he repaired the engines of a New York felt-hat manufacturer, Henry Burr, and that winter he was introduced to Charles Porter. Porter realized the potential of Allen's valves for his idea of a high-speed engine, and the Porter-Allen engine became the pioneer of high-speed designs.

Porter persuaded Allen to patent his new valves and two patents were obtained in 1862. These valves could be driven positively and yet the travel of the inlet could be varied to give the maximum expansion at different cut-offs. Also, the valves allowed an exceptionally good flow of steam. While Porter went to England and tried to interest manufacturers there, Allen remained in America and continued work on the engine. Within a few years he invented an inclined watertube boiler, but he seemed incapable of furthering his inventions once they had been placed on the market. Although he mortgaged his own house in order to help finance the factory for building the steam engine, in the early 1870s he left Porter and built a workshop of his own at Mott Haven. There he invented important systems for riveting by pneumatic machines through both percussion and pressure which led into the production of air compressors and riveting machines.

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SUBJECT AREA: Architecture and building, Domestic appliances and interiors

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Breuer began his student days following an art course in Vienna, but joined the Bauhaus at Weimar, where he later graduated, in 1920. When Gropius re-established the school in purpose-built structures at Dessau, Breuer became a member of the teaching staff in charge of the carpentry and furniture workshops. Much of his time there was spent in design and research into new materials being applied to furniture and interior decoration. The essence of his contribution was to relate the design of furniture to industrial production; in this field he developed the tubular-steel structure, especially in chair design, and experimented with aluminium as a furniture material as well as pieces of furniture made up from modular units. His furniture style was characterized by an elegance of line and a careful avoidance of superfluous detail. By 1926 he had furnished the Bauhaus with such furniture in chromium-plated steel, and two years later had developed a cantilevered chair.

Breuer left the Bauhaus in 1928 and set up an architectural practice in Berlin. In the early 1930s he also spent some time in Switzerland. Notable from these years was his Harnischmacher Haus in Wiesbaden and his apartment buildings in the Dolderthal area of Zurich. His architectural work was at first influenced by constructivism, and then by that of Le Corbusier (see Charles-Edouard Jeanneret). In 1935 he moved to England, where in partnership with F.R.S. Yorke he built some houses and continued to practise furniture design. The Isokon Furniture Co. commissioned him to develop ideas that took advantage of the new bending and moulding processes in laminated wood, one result being his much-copied reclining chair.

In 1937, like so many of the European architectural refugees from Nazism, he found himself under-occupied due to the reluctance of English clients to embrace the modern architectural movement. He went to the United States at Gropius's invitation to join him as a professor at Harvard. Breuer and Gropius were influential in training a new generation of American architects, and in particular they built a number of houses. This partnership ended in 1941 and Breuer set up practice in New York. His style of work from this time on was still modern, but became more varied. In housing, he adapted his style to American needs and used local materials in a functional manner. In the Whitney Museum (1966) he worked in a sculptural, granite-clad style. Often he utilized a bold reinforced-concrete form, as in his collaboration with Pier Luigi Nervi and Bernard Zehrfuss in the Paris UNESCO Building (1953–8) and the US Embassy in the Hague (1954–8). He displayed his masterly handling of poured concrete used in a strikingly expressionistic, sculptural manner in his St John's Abbey (1953–61) in Collegeville, Minnesota, and in 1973 his Church of St Francis de Sale in Michigan won him the top award of the American Institute of Architects.

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SUBJECT AREA: Architecture and building

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Mies van der Rohe was the son of a stonemason and his early constructional training came from his father. As a young man he gained experience of the modern school from study of the architecture of the earlier leaders, notably Peter Behrens, Hendrik Berlage and Frank Lloyd Wright. He commenced architectural practice in 1913 and soon after the First World War was establishing his own version of modern architecture. His building materials were always of the highest quality, of marble, stone, glass and, especially, steel. He stripped his designs of all extraneous decoration: more than any of his contemporaries he followed the theme of elegance, functionalism and an ascetic concentration on essentials. He believed that architectural design should not look backwards but should reflect the contemporary achievement of advanced technology in both its construction and the materials used, and he began early in his career to act upon these beliefs. Typical was his early concrete and glass office building of 1922, after which, more importantly, came his designs for the German Pavilion at the Barcelona Exposition of 1929. These designs included his famous Barcelona chair, made from chrome steel and leather in a geometrical design, one which has survived as a classic and is still in production. Another milestone was his Tugendhat House in Brno (1930), a long, low, rectilinear structure in glass and steel that set a pattern for many later buildings of this type. In 1930 Mies followed his colleagues as third Director of the Bauhaus, but due to the rise of National Socialism in Germany it was closed in 1933. He finally left Germany for the USA in 1937, and the following year he took up his post as Director of Architecture in Chicago at what is now known as the Illinois Institute of Technology and where he remained for twenty years. In America Mies van der Rohe continued to develop his work upon his original thesis. His buildings are always recognizable for their elegance, fine proportions, high-quality materials and clean, geometrical forms; nearly all are of glass and steel in rectangular shapes. The structure and design evolved according to the individual needs of each commission, and there were three fundamental types of design. One type was the single or grouped high-rise tower, built for apartments for the wealthy, as in his Lake Shore Drive Apartments in Chicago (1948–51), or for city-centre offices, as in his Seagram Building in New York (1954–8, with Philip Johnson) or his Chicago Federal Centre (1964). Another form was the long, low rectangle based upon the earlier Tugendhat House and seen again in the New National Gallery in Berlin (1965–8). Third, there were the grouped schemes when the commission called for buildings of varied purpose on a single, large site. Here Mies van der Rohe achieved a variety and interest in the different shapes and heights of buildings set out in spatial harmony of landscape. Some examples of this type of scheme were housing estates (Lafayette Park Housing Development in Detroit, 1955–6), while others were for educational, commercial or shopping requirements, as at the Toronto Dominion Centre (1963–9).

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SUBJECT AREA: Architecture and building, Civil engineering

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Nervi early established a reputation in the use of reinforced concrete with his stadium in Florence (1930–2). This elegant concrete structure combines graceful curves with functional solidity and is capable of seating some 35,000 spectators. The stadium was followed by the aircraft hangars built for the Italian Air Force at Orvieto and Ortebello, in which he spanned the vast roofs of the hangars with thin-shelled vaults supported by precast concrete beams and steel-reinforced ribs. The structural strength and subtle curves of these ribbed roofs set the pattern for Nervi's techniques, which he subsequently varied and elaborated on to solve problems that arose in further commissions.

Immediately after the Second World War Italy was short of supplies of steel for structural purposes so, in contrast to the USA, Britain and Germany, did not for some years construct any quantity of steel-framed rectangular buildinngs used for offices, housing or industrial use. It was Nervi who led the way to a ferroconcrete approach, using a new type of structure based on these materials in the form of a fine steel mesh sprayed with cement mortar and used to roof all kinds of structures. It was a method that resulted in expressionist curves instead of rectangular blocks, and the first of his great exhibition halls at Turin (1949), with a vault span of 240 ft (73 m), was an early example of this technique. Nervi continued to create original and beautiful ferroconcrete structures of infinite variety: for example, the hall at the Lido di Roma, Ostia; the terme at Chianciano; and the three buildings that he designed for the Rome Olympics in 1960. The Palazzetto dello Sport is probably the most famous of these, for which he co-operated with the architect Annibale Vitellozzi to construct a small sports palace seating 5,000 spectators under a concrete "big top" of 194 ft (59 m) diameter, its enclosing walls supported by thirtysix guy ropes of concrete; inside, the elegant roof displays a floral quality. In 1960 Nervi returned to Turin to build his imaginative Palace of Labour for the centenary celebrations of Garibaldi and Victor Emmanuel in the city. This vast hall, like the Crystal Palace in England a century earlier (see Paxton), had to be built quickly and be suitable for later adaptation. It was therefore constructed partly in steel, and the metal supporting columns rose to palm-leaf capitals reminiscent of those in ancient Nile palaces.

Nervi's aim was always to create functional buildings that simultaneously act by their aesthetic qualities as an effective educational influence. Functionalism for Nervi never became "brutalism". In consequence, his work is admired by the lay public as well as by architects. He collaborated with many of the outstanding architects of the day: with Gio Ponti on the Pirelli Building in Milan (1955–9); with Zehrfuss and Breuer on the Y-plan UNESCO Building in Paris (1953–7); and with Marcello Piacentini on the 16,000-seat Palazzo dello Sport in Rome. Nervi found time to write a number of books on building construction and design, lectured in the Universities of Rio de Janiero and Buenos Aires, and was for many years Professor of Technology and Technique of Construction in the Faculty of Architecture at the University of Rome. He continued to design new structures until well into the 1970s.

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σπεῖρα (Trag.+), ης (this form of the gen. in ins [OGI index VIII p. 704a]; BGU 462, 5 [150–56 A.D.]; 142, 10 [159 A.D.]; 26, 12; CPR I, 18, 1; POxy 477, 3 al.; B-D-F §43, 1; Mlt-H. 117f; Mayser 12, 4), ἡ a military t.t. (Polyb. et al.; ins, pap; 2 Macc 8:23; 12:20; Jdth 14:11; Jos., Bell. 2, 318, Vi. 214). This is the Gk. word used to transl. the Lat. cohors (Polyb. 11, 23, 1; ins, pap [cp. Sb, word-list 10 p. 345; OGI, loc. cit.]; also as loanw. in the Mishnah: SKrauss, Griech. u. lat. Lehnwörter im Talmud II 1899, 408; 497), but also Lat. manipulus (Polyb. 6, 24, 5; cp. 2, 3, 2; 3, 115, 12 al.; Dionys. Hal. 5, 42, 2; Strabo 12, 3, 18). In our lit. prob. always cohort, the tenth part of a legion (the σπ. thus normally had 600 men, but the number varied; s. Jos., Bell. 3, 67). Mt 27:27; Mk 15:16; J 18:3, 12; Ac 21:31. On σπεῖρα ἡ καλουμένη Ἰταλική 10:1 s. Ἰταλικός, on σπεῖρα σεβαστή 27:1 s. σεβαστός and the lit. there. On the whole word s. Schürer I 363–65 and the lit. s.v. ἑκατοντάρχης; cp. Hemer, Acts 132f; Boffo, Iscrizioni 295–96 (lit.).—DELG. M-M.

    Mental Models Can Take Many Forms and Serve Many Purposes

   Since mental models can take many forms and serve many purposes, their contents are very varied. They can contain nothing but tokens that represent individuals and identities between them, as in the sorts of models that are required for syllogistic reasoning. They can represent spatial relations between entities, and the temporal or causal relations between events. A rich imaginary model of the world can be used to compute the projective relations required for an image. Models have a content and form that fits them to their purpose, whether it be to explain, to predict, or to control. (Johnson-Laird, 1983, p. 410)

   1) The Knowledge of Ourselves

   We come therefore now to that knowledge whereunto the ancient oracle directeth us, which is the knowledge of ourselves; which deserveth the more accurate handling, by how much it toucheth us more nearly. This knowledge, as it is the end and term of natural philosophy in the intention of man, so notwithstanding it is but a portion of natural philosophy in the continent of nature.... [W]e proceed to human philosophy or Humanity, which hath two parts: the one considereth man segregate, or distributively; the other congregate, or in society. So as Human philosophy is either Simple and Particular, or Conjugate and Civil. Humanity Particular consisteth of the same parts whereof man consisteth; that is, of knowledges which respect the Body, and of knowledges that respect the Mind... how the one discloseth the other and how the one worketh upon the other... [:] the one is honored with the inquiry of Aristotle, and the other of Hippocrates. (Bacon, 1878, pp. 236-237)

   2) As a Science, Psychology Is Distinct

   The claims of Psychology to rank as a distinct science are... not smaller but greater than those of any other science. If its phenomena are contemplated objectively, merely as nervo-muscular adjustments by which the higher organisms from moment to moment adapt their actions to environing co-existences and sequences, its degree of specialty, even then, entitles it to a separate place. The moment the element of feeling, or consciousness, is used to interpret nervo-muscular adjustments as thus exhibited in the living beings around, objective Psychology acquires an additional, and quite exceptional, distinction. (Spencer, 1896, p. 141)

   3) Psychology Can Never Be an Exact Natural Science

   Kant once declared that psychology was incapable of ever raising itself to the rank of an exact natural science. The reasons that he gives... have often been repeated in later times. In the first place, Kant says, psychology cannot become an exact science because mathematics is inapplicable to the phenomena of the internal sense; the pure internal perception, in which mental phenomena must be constructed,-time,-has but one dimension. In the second place, however, it cannot even become an experimental science, because in it the manifold of internal observation cannot be arbitrarily varied,-still less, another thinking subject be submitted to one's experiments, comformably to the end in view; moreover, the very fact of observation means alteration of the observed object. (Wundt, 1904, p. 6)

   4) How a " Mathematical" Psychology May Be Realized in Practice

   It is [Gustav] Fechner's service to have found and followed the true way; to have shown us how a "mathematical psychology" may, within certain limits, be realized in practice.... He was the first to show how Herbart's idea of an "exact psychology" might be turned to practical account. (Wundt, 1904, pp. 6-7)

   5) The Rights of Psychology as Science

   "Mind," "intellect," "reason," "understanding," etc. are concepts... that existed before the advent of any scientific psychology. The fact that the naive consciousness always and everywhere points to internal experience as a special source of knowledge, may, therefore, be accepted for the moment as sufficient testimony to the rights of psychology as science.... "Mind," will accordingly be the subject, to which we attribute all the separate facts of internal observation as predicates. The subject itself is determined p. 17) wholly and exclusively by its predicates. (Wundt, 1904,

   6) The Study of Animal Psychology

   The study of animal psychology may be approached from two different points of view. We may set out from the notion of a kind of comparative physiology of mind, a universal history of the development of mental life in the organic world. Or we may make human psychology the principal object of investigation. Then, the expressions of mental life in animals will be taken into account only so far as they throw light upon the evolution of consciousness in man.... Human psychology... may confine itself altogether to man, and generally has done so to far too great an extent. There are plenty of psychological text-books from which you would hardly gather that there was any other conscious life than the human. (Wundt, 1907, pp. 340-341)

   7) The Behaviorist's Formulation

   The Behaviorist began his own formulation of the problem of psychology by sweeping aside all medieval conceptions. He dropped from his scientific vocabulary all subjective terms such as sensation, perception, image, desire, purpose, and even thinking and emotion as they were subjectively defined. (Watson, 1930, pp. 5-6)

   8) Man Is a Microcosm

   According to the medieval classification of the sciences, psychology is merely a chapter of special physics, although the most important chapter; for man is a microcosm; he is the central figure of the universe. (deWulf, 1956, p. 125)

   9) Brief Overview of Psychology's History

   At the beginning of this century the prevailing thesis in psychology was Associationism.... Behavior proceeded by the stream of associations: each association produced its successors, and acquired new attachments with the sensations arriving from the environment.

   In the first decade of the century a reaction developed to this doctrine through the work of the Wurzburg school. Rejecting the notion of a completely self-determining stream of associations, it introduced the task ( Aufgabe) as a necessary factor in describing the process of thinking. The task gave direction to thought. A noteworthy innovation of the Wurzburg school was the use of systematic introspection to shed light on the thinking process and the contents of consciousness. The result was a blend of mechanics and phenomenalism, which gave rise in turn to two divergent antitheses, Behaviorism and the Gestalt movement. The behavioristic reaction insisted that introspection was a highly unstable, subjective procedure.... Behaviorism reformulated the task of psychology as one of explaining the response of organisms as a function of the stimuli impinging upon them and measuring both objectively. However, Behaviorism accepted, and indeed reinforced, the mechanistic assumption that the connections between stimulus and response were formed and maintained as simple, determinate functions of the environment.

   The Gestalt reaction took an opposite turn. It rejected the mechanistic nature of the associationist doctrine but maintained the value of phenomenal observation. In many ways it continued the Wurzburg school's insistence that thinking was more than association-thinking has direction given to it by the task or by the set of the subject. Gestalt psychology elaborated this doctrine in genuinely new ways in terms of holistic principles of organization.

   Today psychology lives in a state of relatively stable tension between the poles of Behaviorism and Gestalt psychology.... (Newell & Simon, 1963, pp. 279-280)

    10) Psychological Research Is Not Building toward Systematic Clarity

   As I examine the fate of our oppositions, looking at those already in existence as guide to how they fare and shape the course of science, it seems to me that clarity is never achieved. Matters simply become muddier and muddier as we go down through time. Thus, far from providing the rungs of a ladder by which psychology gradually climbs to clarity, this form of conceptual structure leads rather to an ever increasing pile of issues, which we weary of or become diverted from, but never really settle. (Newell, 1973b, pp. 288-289)

    11) Psychology as a Scientific Discipline

   The subject matter of psychology is as old as reflection. Its broad practical aims are as dated as human societies. Human beings, in any period, have not been indifferent to the validity of their knowledge, unconcerned with the causes of their behavior or that of their prey and predators. Our distant ancestors, no less than we, wrestled with the problems of social organization, child rearing, competition, authority, individual differences, personal safety. Solving these problems required insights-no matter how untutored-into the psychological dimensions of life. Thus, if we are to follow the convention of treating psychology as a young discipline, we must have in mind something other than its subject matter. We must mean that it is young in the sense that physics was young at the time of Archimedes or in the sense that geometry was "founded" by Euclid and "fathered" by Thales. Sailing vessels were launched long before Archimedes discovered the laws of bouyancy [ sic], and pillars of identical circumference were constructed before anyone knew that C IID. We do not consider the ship builders and stone cutters of antiquity physicists and geometers. Nor were the ancient cave dwellers psychologists merely because they rewarded the good conduct of their children. The archives of folk wisdom contain a remarkable collection of achievements, but craft-no matter how perfected-is not science, nor is a litany of successful accidents a discipline. If psychology is young, it is young as a scientific discipline but it is far from clear that psychology has attained this status. (Robinson, 1986, p. 12)