Se nme oe 4 ; Se Fa: et REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 19 expense of the Institution. The question in the main seems to be one affecting the promptness of distribution, which is of primary im- portance in the case of scientific works, and it is hoped no serious disadvantages may result by the adoption of the new law. LIBRARY. The hbrary of the Smithsonian Institution is made up of several constituent parts. The most important of these are the Smithsonian deposit in the Library of Congress and the lbraries of the National Museum and Bureau of American Ethnology. There was added to the Smithsonian deposit during the past year a total of 21,863 pub- lications, the equivalent of 14,560 volumes, consisting very largely of works on the various branches of science and art. To the Museum library there were added 1,791 books, 3,608 pam- phlets, and 276 parts of volumes, making the present total in that library about 42,000 volumes, 70,000 unbound papers, besides manu- scripts, maps, charts, and other material. Arrangements are being made to divide the Museum library into two principal parts by as- sembling all books on zoology, paleontology, geology, ethnology, and archeology in the new building. LANGLEY MEMORIAL TABLET. A design in plaster for the memorial tablet commemorative of the aeronautical work of the late Secretary Langley was submitted at the December meeting of the Regents by the sculptor, Mr. John Flanagan, and accepted by the committee appointed by the board. The tablet will be cast in bronze and erected.in the vestibule of the Smithsonian building. The tablet, which is in relief, measures 4 feet 6 inches high by 2 feet 5 inches wide. It represents Mr. Langley seated on a terrace where he has a clear view of the heavens, and in a meditative mood is observing the flight of birds, while in his mind he sees his aerodrome soaring above them. The lettering upon the tablet is as follows: SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 1834-1906 Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution 1887-1906 Discovered the relations of speed and angle of inclination to the lifting power of surfaces moving in air “T have brought to a close the portion of the work which seemed to be spe- cially mine, the demonstration of the practicability of mechanical flight. “The great universal highway overhead is now soon to be opened.’’—LANGLEY, 1901, 20 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. HAMILTON LECTURE. The third Hamilton fund lecture of the Smithsonian Institution was delivered by Dr. Simon Flexner, of the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research, in the auditorium of the United States National Museum, February 8, 1912. The title of the lecture was “Infection and Recovery from Infec- tion,” an investigation to which Dr. Flexner has given especial study for several years. In his treatment of this vital and interesting subject the speaker covered a broad field of medical science, and at the same time ex- pressed himself in such a manner as to be intelligible to laymen. Dr. Flexner touched upon the following points: The part played by bacteria, protozoa, and submicroscopic para- sites in causing infection was described, and emphasis laid upon the occurrence on the surface of the body of many kinds of disease- producing germs. The manner in which they are excluded by skin and mucous membranes was discussed, as well as their ability to enter the body by these channels when they were imperfect. In this way a variety of diseases is produced, including diphtheria, menin- gitis, and probably infantile paralysis. The germs that enter the body encounter a second and even more efficient set of defenses in the blood with its devouring white corpuscles. When disease appears, in spite of and because of inadequacy in the defensive mechanisms, then the body, under the influence of the parasitic germs, sets about creating new defensive principles through the process of immunization. It is immunization that vaccination produces, which is a protection to smallpox; and it is through purposive immunization of animals that the curative serums are prepared, that by injection bringing about an artificial and premature cessation of such diseases as diphtheria and epidemic meningitis. The part played by insects in transmitting malaria, yellow fever, typhus fever, and relapsing fever was sketched, and the varying susceptibilities to disease of different races, species, and individuals dwelt on and in part ex- plained, on the basis of known facts of immunity to and virulence of the germ causes of disease. The above is the third of the series of Hamilton lectures. In 1871 James Hamilton, a retired lawyer of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, bequeathed $1,000 to the Smithsonian Institution, the interest of which was to be appropriated biennially by the secretary for some contribution, paper, or lecture on any scientific or useful subject which he might select. As the sum was somewhat limited to ade- quately carry out the donor’s wishes, the interest was allowed to accumulate until the amount was doubled, and the Institution then created a series of lectures, known as the Hamilton Fund Lectures. REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 21 The first, by Dr. Andrew D. White, on “'The diplomatic service of the United States, with some hints toward its reform,” was given in 1905, and the second, by Dr. George E. Hale, on “ Some recent contributions to our knowledge of the Sun,” was delivered in 1908. INTERNATIONAL CONGRESSES AND CELEBRATIONS. The Institution each year receives invitations to numerous scien- tific congresses and celebrations in the United States and abroad, but as funds are not available for the expenses of delegates few of these invitations can be accepted. In some instances, however, it is pos- sible to arrange for representation by collaborators of the Institution who are visiting the localities on official or private business. Congress of Americanists—Dr. AleS Hrdlitka was appointed representative of the Institution and designated as delegate of the United States to the Eighteenth International Congress of Ameri- canists held in London May 27 to June 1, 1912. In addition to Dr. Hrdli¢ka, the State Department also designated Miss Alice Fletcher, Dr. George Grant MacCurdy, Dr. Edgar L. Hewett, Dr. G. B. Gor- don, Rev. Charles W. Currier, Prof. Marshall H. Saville, and Dr. Charles Peabody as delegates on the part of the United States at that congress. The Nineteenth International Congress of Americanists has been invited to meet in Washington in 1914, and Mr. W. H. Holmes, Mr. F. W. Hodge, and Dr. AleS Hrdlicka have been appointed an auxili- ary committee to represent the Smithsonian Institution in connection with the preliminary arrangement of details respecting the proposed meeting. Academy of Natural Sciences of Phitadelphia—The Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia held its centenary anniversary in Philadelphia, March 19, 20, and 21, 1912. At this celebration the Institution and its branches were represented by the secretary, Dr. Charles D. Walcott; Dr. Richard Rathbun, assistant secretary in charge of the United States National Museum; Dr. Frederick W. True, assistant secretary in charge of Library and Exchanges; Mr. Frederick W. Hodge, ethnologist in charge, Bureau of American Ethnology; and Dr. Leonhard Stejneger, head curator of biology, United States National Museum; and Dr. Theodore N. Gill, associate in Zoology, United States National Museum. The secretary also represented the American Philosophical Society on this occasion. Archeological Congress—At the request of the Institution, the State Department designated Prof. Arthur L. Frothingham and Prof. George M. Whicher as delegates on the part of the United States to the Third International Archeological Congress at Rome, October 9 to 16, 1912. 85360°—sm 1912——3 22 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Prehistoric Anthropology.—Dr. Alés Hrdlicka, Dr. Charles Pea- body, and Dr. George Grant MacCurdy were appointed representa- tives of the Smithsonian Institution to the Fourteenth International Congress of Prehistoric Anthropology and Archeology at Geneva, September 9 to 15, 1912. Congress of Orientalists—Dr. Paul Haupt was appointed repre- sentative of the Smithsonian Institution and designated as delegate of the United States at the Fifteenh International Congress of Orientalists, held at Athens, April 7 to 14, 1912. Additional dele- gates on the part of the United States were Prof. E. Washburn Hop- kins, Prof. A. V. W. Jackson, and Prof. Morris Jastrow, jr. (Un- foreseen circumstances later prevented Prof. Jackson from attending.) Congress on Hygiene and Demography.—The Fifteenth Inter- national Congress on Hygiene and Demography was invited by the Government, through the State Department, to meet in Washington, September 23 to 28, 1912. I accepted the invitation of the depart- ment to serve as a member of the committee on organization. Mr. W. H. Holmes, head curator of anthropology in the National Museum, has been appointed as representative of the Smithsonian Institution on the interdepartmental committee to consider the preparation of exhibits for the congress. At the close of the fiscal vear, June 30, 1912, arrangements for the congress were well in hand. Congress on Applied Chemistry.—in connection with the Eighth International Congress of Applied Chemistry, to be opened in Wash- ington September 4, 1912, and subsequent meetings closing in New York City September 13, Prof. F. W. Clarke has been designated as representative of the Institution, and I have accepted an invitation to attend personally. Royal Society—Dr. Arnold Hague, of the United States Geo- logical Survey, was appointed a representative of the Smithsonian Institution at the commemoration of the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the foundation of the Royal Society of London, July 16 to 18, 1912. GECRGE WASHINGTON MEMORIAL BUILDING. There is now pending in the House of Representatives a bill passed by the Senate, April 15, 1912, granting to the George Wash- ington Memorial Association permission to erect on the Government reservation known as Armory Square, a memorial building to cost not less than $2,000,000, “ where large conventions or in which large public functions can be held, or where the permanent headquarters and records of national organizations can be administered.” By the provisions of the bill the control and administration of the building would be vested in the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Insti- tution, and the association is to provide “a permanent endowment REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 25 fund of not less than $500,000, to be administered by the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Institution, the income from which shall, as far as necessary, be used for the maintenance of said building.” There is need in Washington of such a structure as here proposed. Tt would be a fitting memorial to George Washington—the gathering- place and headquarters for patriotic, scientific, medical, and other organizations interested in promoting the welfare of the American people, the development of the country in science, literature, and art. NATIONAL MUSEUM. The past year was marked by a new feature in the administration of the National Museum—its opening to the public on Sundays. This measure had long been advocated without effect, and even now the practice must be for a time limited to the new building. Public appreciation was evidenced on the first day of Sunday opening, October 8, 1911, by the presence of 15,467 visitors. The average number of visitors on Sundays up to the close of the year was 1,666, as compared with 693 on week days. There was added to the permanent collections of the Museum a total of 238,000 specimens and objects, an increase of 10,000 over the ~ year preceding. Of these accessions about 168,000 were biological, 63,000 geological and paleontological, and 7,000 anthropological. A large number of valuable temporary additions in the form of loans were made to the National Gallery of Art, to the collection of art textiles, and to those of the division of history. Among the acces- sions that I may specially mention are the first aeroplane (Wright) acquired by the Government; important memorials of Gens. Ganse- voort and Custer, Rear Admirals Foote and Schley, Commanders Maury and Hosley, and other eminent soldiers and sailors, and mementos of the Washington, Ball, Cropper, McLane, Bradford, and Bailey-Myers-Mason families; some interesting Polish coins dating from 1386 to 1835; and a very large and unique series of post- age stamps and other objects relating to the operation of the United States Postal Service. There were also received about 4,000 mam- mals, besides birds, reptiles, fishes, and invertebrates from the Paul J. Rainey expedition to British East Africa; a large collection of Cam- brian fossils; and an unrivaled collection of some 75,000 specimens of fossil echnioderms deposited by Mr. Frank Springer. From the Bureau of Fisheries were received extensive and important collec- tions of fishes from Japan and the Philippines and over 27,000 speci- mens of marine invertebrates. Other additions of importance are noted by the assistant secretary in his report on another page. About three-fourths of the exhibition space in the new building has already been made accessible to the public, and before the close 24 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. of another year it is expected that the last of the halls will be opened. The installations, however, are to a large extent provisional and much work will still remain to be done to complete their per- manent arrangement. : By the transfer of the natural history and anthropological exhibits to the new building, space has become available in the older buildings for the better exhibition of the large collections of the department of arts and industries. The very interesting series of objects commemo- rative of eminent Americans and of important events in the history of the United States; the collections illustrative of art textiles, graphic arts, and ceramics, as well as firearms, electrical inventions, and other technological material may now receive more attention and be more adequately displayed than has heretofore been prac- ticable. The picture gallery in the new building, constituting the National Gallery of Art, continues to grow in public interest and importance. A special exhibition of part of the collection of American and oriental art presented to the Nation by Mr. Charles L. Freer was held from April 15 to June 15. The objects displayed included 38 paint- ings by Whistler, Tryon, and others, 18 Japanese paintings, 36 Chi- nese paintings, a number of Chinese bronzes, one dating back to 1766-1122 B. C., and examples of Chinese, Persian, and Mesopota- mian pottery, ancient Egyptian glass, and Persian and Indo-Persian iluminations. Mr. William T. Evans, of New York, has made 10 important additions to his collection of works of contemporary American painters, now numbering 137 pieces by 98 artists. A meeting in memory of Mr. Francis D. Millet, lost in the Titanic disaster, was held in the auditorium of the new building on the even- ing of May 10, 1912, under the auspices of The American Federation of Arts, when addresses were made by Senators Root and Lodge, and others. On this occasion I called attention to the valuable services rendered to the Smithsonian Institution by Mr. Millet as chairman of the advisory committee of the National Gallery of Art. Meetings of a number of scientific organizations were held as usual in the auditorium, including the usual annual April meeting of the National Academy of Sciences, the annual meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, the American Institute of Architects, and the Red Cross conference. On March 28 and 29 the Washington Academy of Sciences held a conversazione and an exhibition of important recent apparatus, methods, and results pertaining to the scientific investigations carried on by the different Government bureaus and scientific institutions of Washington. Models and pictures of designs for the memorials to Abraham Lin- coln and Commodore Perry were exhibited in several rooms of the new building and attracted much public atténtion. REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. ; 95 The publications issued included the annual report for 1911, numerous papers of the Proceedings, and several Bulletins, which will be enumerated in detail in the usual volume devoted to the oper- ations of the National Museum. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY. The operations of the Bureau of American Ethnology during the last year are stated in detail on another page by the ethnologist-in- charge of that branch of the Institution’s activities. The systematic researches bearing on the history, languages, manners, and customs of the American Indians cover a wide range, and the results of these studies are published as soon as completed. Since the organization of the bureau under the Smithsonian Institution in 1879, 27 annual reports in 32 royal octavo volumes have been issued, and more than 50 bulletins, the collection comprising a most valuable ethnological library. The demand for the “ Handbook of American Indians,” which is printed in two volumes, has so far exceeded the authorized edition that a measure has been introduced and is now pending in Congress for reprinting it. The recent field work of the bureau includes: (1) A visit to El Morro, New Mexico, where impressions of some Spanish inscriptions dating from the year 1606 and having an impor- tant bearing on the early history of the Pueblo tribes, were made; (2) excavations in the Jemez Valley in a ruined pueblo on a mesa 1,800 feet high, the ruins bearing evidence of occupancy at two different periods, and containing some interesting pottery, traces of textiles, and other objects; (3) field work to determine the western limit of the ancient Pueblo culture in Arizona; and many other lines of inves- tigation, discussed by Mr. Hodge in an appendix to this report. The construction of the Panama Canal has aroused so greatly public interest in the aboriginal remains of the West Indies that the bureau has arranged for more extended studies in West Indian archeology. Researches thus far made indicate that the Tainan culture of Porto Rico and the Dominican Republic was represented in the Lesser Antilles by an agricultural people, probably Arawak, who were conquered and absorbed by the marauding Carib. Types of pottery found in some of the Lesser Antilles indicate their occupancy by people superior in culture to the Carib and to those found there at the time of the discovery by Columbus. INTERNATIONAL EXCHANGES. There has been an increase of more than 10 per cent in the number of packages handled by the Exchange Service during the past year as compared with the preceding 12 months, the total number being 315,492. These packages weighed over 284 tons. 26 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. No change has been made in the amount ($32,200) granted by Congress during the past four years for the support of this branch of Government work carried on under the direction of the Institu- tion, and the usual sum was collected from variots Government and State establishments for services in connection with the transporta- tion of exchanges, the total available resources for meeting the ex- penses of the system being $36,591.02. The publications dispatched by the Exchange Service are classified under four heads: First, the Congressional Record; second, “ Parla- mentary documents”; third, “ Departmental documents”; fourth, “‘ Miscellaneous scientific and literary publications.” The term “ Parliamentary documents” as here used refers to publications set aside by law for exchange with foreign Governments, and includes not only copies of documents printed by order of either House of Congress, but copies of each publication issued by any department, bureau, commission, or officer of the Government. The object in sending these publications abroad is to procure for the use of the Congress of the United States a complete series of the publica- tions of other Governments, and the returns are deposited in the Congressional Library. The term “ Departmental documents” embraces all the publica- tions delivered at the Institution by the various Government depart- ments, bureaus, or commissions for distribution to their correspond- -ents abroad, from whom they desire to obtain similar publications in exchange. The publications received in return are deposited in the various departmental libraries. : The ‘“ Miscellaneous scientific and literary publications” are received chiefly from learned societies, universities, colleges, scientific institutes, and museums in the United States and transmitted to simi- lar institutions in all parts of the world. At the request of the Secretary for the Interior of the Union of South Africa the Institution discontinued the sending of full sets of governmental documents to Cape Colony and the Transvaal and partial sets to Natal and the Orange River Colony, substituting one full set for the Government of the Union of South Africa. There are therefore now sent through the Exchange Service to regular foreign depositories only 54 full and 32 partial sets of official documents. No countries were added during the year to the list of those with which the immediate exchange of official parliamentary journals is carried on, the number of countries taking part in this exchange being 29. REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 27 NATIONAL ZOOLOGICAL PARK. The accessions to the collections in the National Zoological Park during the past year aggregated 510 animals, including 25 species not already represented; 350 of these were obtained by purchase, exchange, or as gifts, and 108 were born and hatched in the park. The total collection on June 30 numbered 1,551 individual animals, representing 381 species of mammals, birds, and reptiles, an increase of 137 over the preceding year. The more important additions were 2 elephant seals and 4 northern fur seals, 8 white pelicans, and a pair each of Brazilian tapirs, Patagonian cavies, and Chilean eagles. The number of visitors was 542,738, or a daily average of 1,487. The largest number in any one month was 95,485, in April, 1912. That the educational value of the park is appreciated is indicated by the fact that it was visited by 4,140 pupils, representing 142 schools and classes from the District of Columbia and neighboring States, and from Vermont, Massachusetts, New York, and Tennessee. Although each year some improvements are made as regards the accommodation of the collections and the comfort of visitors, yet much remains to be done before the park can be brought to a condi- tion that would properly be expected in a zoological park maintained by this great nation. The most important improvement of the year was the construction of a fireproof building for a central heating plant, in which are installed two pairs of boilers for alternate use as repairs or cleaning become necessary. A yard and bathing pool was also constructed for the use of the hippopotamus and the tapirs; three small inclosures were built for semiaquatic animals; and various other additional structures were built, as enumerated by the super- intendent in his report on another page. I have for several years called attention to the urgent need of a suitable aviary for the fine series of birds in the collection. A suit- able structure for this purpose is estimated to cost about $80,000. Around this large aviary would be grouped the cages for the eagles, vultures, condors, and owls, now scattered irregularly about the grounds. The superintendent in his report calls attention also to several other desirable measures for the betterment of the park. The Biological Survey of the Department of Agriculture, in coop- eration with the Zoological Park, is carrying on some experiments in breeding mink with a view to ascertaining the possibilities of rear- ing them in captivity for commercial purposes. The main object in view is to secure data relative to the best methods of rearing mink for their fur, especially as to details of housing, feeding, mating, and caring for them. 28 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. ASTROPHYSICAL OBSERVATORY. The principal research carried on by the Astrophysical Observa- tory during the year has been on the variability of. the sun. Progress has been made in the dissemination of standards of pyrheliometry and on the absorption of radiation by atmospheric water vapor. The first of these investigations was in continuation of observations taken during several years past to definitely determine the laws gov- erning the apparent variability of the ‘‘solar constant.’”’ The solving of this problem, it is expected, will be of much value in the probable forecast of climatic conditions from year to year. In this research -it seemed important that simultaneous observations be made in widely separated parts of the world. It was accordingly arranged to make such observations at Mount Wilson, California, and at Bassour, Algeria, The results of this work are discussed by Mr. Abbot in his report on another page. For several years the Institution has been sending to observatories, widely separated throughout the world, standardized copies of the standard silver-disk secondary pyrheliometer designed by the direc- tor of the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory. During the past year about 10 such struments have been prepared and sent out, mostly to foreign governmental meteorological services. It is hoped to thus secure not only uniformity of radiation measures, but also a more exact knowledge of solar radiation and the influence of the terrestrial atmosphere upon it. In carrying forward the research on the absorption of radiation by atmospheric water vapor, there has been recently devised at the observatory a method for determining spectroscopically the total quantity of water vapor between the observer and the sun. Atmos- pheric water vapor absorption work during the year was confined to the upper infra-red spectrum bands. It is expected by the use of a vacuum bolometer now in preparation to make considerable gain in the sensitiveness of the apparatus and greatly promote the value of the work at great wave lengths. INTERNATIONAL CATALOGUE OF SCIENTIFIC LITERA- pbs de Op sols The cooperative enterprise known as the International Catalogue of Scientific Literature is represented in the United States through the Smithsonian Institution, an appropriation being made each year by Congress to maintain a regional bureau in this country under the auspices of the Secretary of the Institution. This bureau, in cooperation with thirty-one other regional bureaus, through a central bureau in London, publishes yearly 17 volumes, which form an index to current scientific literature. Each country REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 29 supports its own bureau, in the majority of cases by means of direct governmental grants. The London central bureau, which bears all of the expense of editing and publishing the data prepared by the regional bureaus, depends for its support entirely on funds received from the subscribers to the work. In the beginning of the enter- prise the subscription price was fixed at $85 per year for a full set of 17 volumes, and it has been necessary to maintain this price, as there are a limited number of libraries and scientific bodies whose subscription to the work practically assures the sum necessary for publication. The lack of any surplus, however, renders it impos- sible to reduce the price of the work in order to meet the demands of a large number of scientific investigators, who are practically excluded as personal subscribers to this valuablo source of information, owing to the present prices. Had the central bureau a permanent and independent income, derived from an endowment or otherwise, it would be possible to adopt the course which would under similar circumstances be fol- lowed by a commercial publishing house having a liberal working capital; that is, to reduce the price of the publication and depend on the certainty of increased sales to pay the relatively small expenses of printing a larger edition of the work. An endowment of $100,000 properly invested would, it is believed, make it possible to carry out this plan, and, for the end to be accomplished, it would be difficult to find a better use for this comparatively small sum. A more detailed statement of the condition of this interesting example of what may be accomplished through international cooperation will be found in the report of the bureau in the appendix. Respectfully submitted. CuHarLes D. Watcort, Secretary. AppEenpIx 1. REPORT ON THE UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM. Str: I have the honor to submit the following report on the opera- tions of the United States National Museum for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1912: SUMMARY OF THE YEAR’S PROGRESS. By the close of the year the natural history departments of the Museum had been quite fully established in the new building, only a small amount of exhibition material remaining to be transferred. The laboratories had been occupied for some time, and the reserve collections brought over from the older buildings had been mainly arranged in the more ample and convenient quarters provided for them. The work of classification had necessarily to be in large part suspended during the period of moving, but the opportunity was availed of to expedite the labeling and recording, and these collec- tions are now, as a whole, in much better condition and far more accessible for reference and study than at any previous time in the history of the Museum. The task of moving was both arduous and delicate, involving, as it did, the handling of several million speci- mens of all sizes and all degrees of hardiness without injury and without the loss or disarrangement of labels. That it was accom- plished satisfactorily in such a remarkably short space of time is especially gratifying, in view of the fact that the exigencies of the current work were fully met and no cessation occurred in the receipt of new material. The installation of the exhibition collections, however, could not be hastened in the same way. A much greater time is required for the construction of the cases, which are more elaborate in character than those intended for storage, and but few of the cases used in the older buildings are adapted to the new building, though many have been temporarily employed. It has also been necessary to reject a large number of the older exhibition specimens as of inferior quality for the purpose, and of those which are being utilized many require to be thoroughly renevated if not entirely done over. The new ex- hibitions, however, are intended to consist in great measure of fresh materials, much of which has been recently acquired, and to represent 30 : REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. on the best skill of the museum preparator and taxidermist. During the year this branch of the work was pressed to the fullest extent pos- sible, and excellent progress was made. Of the total floor area of about 465,000 square feet furnished by the new building, the amount of space dedicated to the public, including the floors and galleries of the south pavilion and rotunda, is slightly in excess of 220,000 square feet. The permanent exhibitions now planned are limited to the first and second stories of the wings and ranges, which they will completely occupy and which contain about 186,000 square feet. Of this space about three-fourths has been opened to the public, although it should be explained that the installa- tions are still to a large extent provisional and subject to revision, a work that is steadily going on. The end of another year, however, should see all of the exhibition halls opened and in good though not finished condition. The exhibitions to which the public had gained access by the close of the year comprised, besides the picture gallery in the middle hall, ethnology, historic archeology, systematic and applied geology, mineralogy, paleontology, the birds and fishes, small sections of the mammals and invertebrates, a synoptic series of biology, and certain special zoological collections illustrating anatomy and development, albinism, melanism, hybridism, the domestic animals, and the local fauna. ‘The principal branches that remained to be opened up were the mammals, reptiles, marine invertebrates, and _ prehistoric archeology. The removal of the natural history collections from the older buildings furnishes the opportunity for the more complete organiza- tion of the department of the arts and industries as contemplated in the original plan of the Board of Regents. Certain subjects belonging to it have for a long time been illustrated to the extent permitted by the crowded condition of the exhibition halls, among them being land and water transportation, firearms, electrical inven- tions, Measuring devices, many kinds of machinery, the graphic arts, and ceramics. There are several others, however, equally important and interesting, of which the Museum has many and valuable illus- trations. The material, obtained from various sources, but mainly from the great international expositions, has, from lack of room, been necessarily kept in storage, though before the crowding of the older buildings began some parts of it were exhibited. The space that has been released will afford accommodations for the installa- tion of this material, so far as it has not deteriorated, and for such additions as will be needed to round out the exhibits of the several subjects in at least a modest way. With this accomplished, the Museum will be confronted with the problem of the further develop- 32 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. ment of the department to make it comparable with those in the prin- cipal European countries, and thus capable of exerting a direct and beneficial influence on the higher industrial pursuits of the country. Tt was not until after the middle of the year, however, that the extension of the work in this direction could be taken up, and little more was possible than to remove the material from storage, and begin its unpacking and assorting. The installations will be made, at least for the most part, in the old cases, which will have to be more or less remodeled for the purpose, but it is not expected that the public will be long delayed in gaining access to some parts of these collections. The material relating to the graphic arts and to book- making will be exhibited in the Smithsonian building, but the other subjects will be mainly provided for in the older Museum building, and comprise, besides those above mentioned, mineral technology, textiles, woods, various animal and vegetable products, foods and drugs, etc. The division of history will continue to occupy its pres- ent position ‘in the older Museum building, as will the collection of art textiles, but additional space will be required for the former, whose growth and popularity have been exceptionally gratifying. Several unoccupied rooms in the new building were used by the Government for the competitive plans for the Lincoln and Perry memorials, authorized by Congress and submitted during the year. Opened to the inspection of the public, the models and pictures of the designs for the Lincoln monument in Washington were still on exhibition at the close of the year. The Sunday opening of the Museum, so long and earnestly advo- cated by the authorities of the Institution, was one of the most note- worthy accomplishments of the year. This innovation is, in fact, to be regarded as marking the beginning of a new period in the history of the Museum, in which its privileges may be enjoyed with equal freedom by all classes. Started on October 8, 1911, and restricted to afternoon hours, it is for the present limited to the new building. ADDITIONS TO THE COLLECTIONS. The permanent additions to the collections numbered approxi- mately 238,000 specimens and objects, of which about 168,000 were biological, 63,000 geological and paleontological, and 7,000 anthropo- logical. There were also many loans, some of great value. The more important accessions in anthropology related to the Indians of southern Alaska and Panama, and included an interesting series of objects from the ruined pueblo of Kwasteyukwa, New Mexico. To the exhibits in mechanical technology were added many important articles, including the first aeroplane acquired and used by the Government, a large number of firearms, both military and sporting, and numerous examples of inventions. The division of REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 33 American history was especially favored with both gifts and loans, among the distinguished persons and families represented by the memorials received being Gen. Peter Gansevoort, of Revolutionary time, and his son and grandson; Rear Admirals Winfield Scott Schley and Andrew H. Foote, United States Navy; Commanders Matthew Fontaine Maury and. Harry H. Hosley, United States Navy; Gen. George A. Custer, United States Army; the Marquis de Lafayette; Prof. George Frederic Barker; Mr. and Mrs. Samuel S. Cox; Julia Ward Howe; the Washington and Ball families; the Cropper and McLane families; the Bradford family, of New Eng- land; and the Bailey-Myers-Mason family. The collection of numis- matics acquired two valuable series of several hundred pieces each, one representing the Polish coinage from 1386 to 1835, the other consisting of antique copper coins from Asia. Exceptionally im- portant was the transfer to the National Museum of the museum of the Post Office Department, so well known to visitors to Washing- ton, comprising the large and unique series of United States postage stamps, besides many objects relating to the operations of the postal service. The most conspicuous acquisition by the department of biology consisted of the collection made by Mr. Paul J. Rainey on his expe- dition to British East Africa, accompanied by Mr. Edmund Heller, which was generously presented. It contains about 4,000 mammals, besides many hundreds of birds, reptiles, fishes, and invertebrates, and has already yielded a large number of new forms. Much mate- rial was also received from several other natural history expeditions beyond the United States conducted by the Institution and Musewn or under other auspices, the principal regions visited having been the Aleutian Islands, British Columbia and Alberta, the Panama Canal Zone, the Bahama Islands, Peru, Abyssinia and British East Africa, the Altai Mountains on the borders of Siberia and Mongolia, Kash- mir, and Borneo. Within the confines of the United States a number of minor explorations were carried on by members of the staff. The transfers made by the Bureau of Fisheries were extensive and important, consisting mainly of collections that had been studied and described and containing much type material. The fishes were from Japan, the Philippine Islands, and various parts of the United States, while the marine invertebrates, numbering over 27,000 speci- mens of several groups, represented explorations by the steamer Albatross in different parts of the Pacific Ocean. The increases in the division of insects were chiefly from the Bureau of Entomology, and in the herbarium from the Bureau of Plant Industry, though many specimens were secured for the latter by exchange and as the result of field work in New Mexico. 34 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The collections of geology and mineralogy received important additions, including types and recently described materials and many fine examples of building and ornamental stones. The permanent acquisitions in paleontology, amounting to over 60,000 specimens, were mainly of Cambrian fossils from British Columbia and Alberta, and from China; Ordovician fossils from the western United States, New York, and Canada; Ordovician and Mississippian fossils from the Mississippi Valley; and Tertiary fossils from the Isthmus of Panama. It is gratifying to note the deposit in the Museum by Mr. Frank Springer of his unrivaled collection of fossil echinoderms, numbering some 75,000 specimens, which he has been many years in assembling and on which no expense has been spared. ‘The material has been installed and made accessible in one of the larger labora- tory rooms, and it is the purpose of Mr. Springer to devote much of his time to further research work in connection with it. NATIONAL GALLERY OF ART. A memorable event in the brief history of the Gallery was the exhibition in one of the great halls of the new building of a selection of objects from the collection of American and oriental art presented to the Nation in 1906 by Mr. Charles L. Freer, of Detroit, Michigan, but which is to remain in the possession of the donor during his life. This special exhibition, which continued during two months, from April 15 to June 15, and opened with an evening reception, was made possible through the courtesy and generosity of Mr. Freer, by whom the expenses of transportation were defrayed. The selection, which numbered 175 pieces out of the more than 4,000 composing the Freer collection, was representative of its charac- teristic features, and in variety, richness, and rarity of material con- stituted in itself a remarkable exhibit for any place or time. The American art side of the collection was illustrated by 38 paintings, of which 24 were by James McNeill Whistler and the others by Thomas W. Dewing, Dwight W. Tryon, Abbott H. Thayer, and Winslow Homer. Of oriental productions there were 13 Japanese paintings of the sixteenth to the nineteenth centuries; 36 Chinese paintings, the earliest belonging to the Liang dynasty, and also 4 albums of Chinese paintings; 17 Chinese bronzes, one dating back to the Shang dynasty, many centuries before the Christian era; 4 Chinese sculptures of the Wei and T’ang dynasties; 52 examples of old Chinese, Corean, Japanese, Persian, and Mesopotamian pottery ; 7 specimens of ancient Egyptian glass; and 4 Persian and Indo- Persian illuminations. Mr. William T. Evans, of New York, whose generous benefactions have extended through more than five years, made 10 important addi- tions to his collection of the works of contemporary American REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 35 painters, which, at the end of the year, numbered 187 pieces by 98 artists. One of the older paintings was also exchanged for another and better example of the work of the same artist. This collection, which occupies the greater part of the space now allotted to the Gallery, is a most notable presentation of American art. The painters represented in the contributions of the year are William B. P. Closson, Wyatt Eaton, Albert L. Groll, Arthur T. Hill, William M. Hunt, William S. Robinson, Abbott H. Thayer, Elihu Vedder, Edgar M. Ward, Frederick J. Waugh, and Irving R. Wiles. Mr. Evans also added 34 proofs of American wood engravings to his previous donation of 81 examples. The collection of historical paintings in oil was increased by two noteworthy gifts to the Nation. One of these consisted of portraits of Mathias Ringmann, Martin Waldseemuller, and Vautrin Lud, the geographers who, in 1507, first applied the name “ America” to the new continent, and was received from the municipality of St. Dié-des-Vosges, France. The other comprised a portrait of John Ericsson and a painting illustrating the “Combat between the Monitor and the Merrimac,” and was made by the Swedish American Republican League of Illinois. The Gallery was also fortunate in obtaining many loans, both of paintings and sculpture, and within the restricted limits of its quarters has maintained an exhibition of exceptional merit and attractiveness. ART TEXTILES. Interest in the collection of art textiles, under the patronage and direction of Mrs. J. W. Pinchot, continued unabated, and of 68 addi- tions received 15 were gifts. The laces have now become sufliciently well represented to permit the arrangement of a synoptical series in which all of the varieties are shown, and of a special exhibit consti- tuting a résumé of the history of lace making. PERIOD COSTUMES. During the year a collection of costumes intended to illustrate the changes in style of personal attire in America from the colonial period to the present time, was undertaken. The material so far gathered has consisted mainly of apparel actually worn at important state and social functions, which gives it an historical interest, and the collection should also very materially supplement that of art textiles, offering useful suggestion in the field of design. The sub- ject was taken up on the initiative of Mrs. Julian James, who is giv- ing it her personal attention, and the contributions, ranging from single objects to complete parts of costumes, comprised both loans and gifts. 36 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. MISCELLANEOUS. Of duplicates separated from the collections in the course of the work of classification about 8,000 specimens, chiefly minerals, ores, fossils, and recent animals, were distributed to schools and colleges for teaching purposes. About 16,000 duplicates were also used in making exchanges, whereby material of similar value was obtained for addition to the permanent collections. To specialists connected with other scientific establishments some 11,500 specimens, mainly bio- logical, were sent for study, principally in the interest of the Museum and for the purpose of securing the identification of material which could not be determined here. The number of persons who visited the new building during the year was 281,887, the older Museum building, 172,182, and the Smith- sonian building, 143,134, being equivalent to an average daily attend- ance at each of the three buildings of 800, 550, and 457, respectively. The total Sunday attendance at the new building, beginning October 8, amounted to 64,987, an average by Sundays of 1,666 persons, or more than double the daily average for the same building. The publications issued during the year comprised the annual report for 1911, volumes 39, 40, and 41 of the Proceedings, and 3 Bulletins, besides 59 papers from the Proceedings, Bulletins, and Con- tributions from the National Herbarium, printed separately. The total number of copies of publications distributed was about 67,000. The library received additions to the extent of 1,791 books, 3,608 pamphlets, and 276 parts of volumes, and at the end of the year was estimated to contain a total of 42,002 books and 69,670 unbound papers. With the completion of the arrangements in progress all of the works on natural history will be transferred to the new building, leaving the older quarters for those relating to the arts and industries and history, and by this division the congested condition of the library which has so long prevailed will be relieved. The facilities offered by the new building were often availed of during the year for congresses and meetings relating to science and art. Among the more important bodies which met or were received there were the American Association for the Advancement of Science and affiliated societies, the National Academy of Sciences, the Ameri- can Federation of Arts, the American Institute of Architects, and the Red Cross Conference. Respectfully submitted. RicHarp Rarusun, Assistant Secretary in Charge U.S. National Museum. Dr. Cuartes D. Watcorr, p Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. Ocroser 31, 1912. APPENDIX 2. REPORT ON THE BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY. Str: I have the honor to submit the following report of the oper- ations of the Bureau of American Ethnology during the fiscal year ended June 30, 1912, conducted in accordance with the act of Con- gress approved March 4, 1911, making appropriations for sundry civil expenses of the Government, which act contains the following item: American ethnology: For continuing ethnological researches among the American Indians and the natives of Hawaii, including the excavation and pres- ervation of archeologic remains, under the direction of the Smithsonian Insti- tution, including salaries or compensation of all necessary employees and the purchase of necessary books and periodicals, including payment in advance for subscriptions, forty-two thousand dollars. SYSTEMATIC RESEARCHES. The systematic researches of the bureau were conducted by the regular staff, consisting of eight ethnologists, and with the aid of specialists not directly connected with the bureau, but the results of whose studies were procured for publication. These operations may be summarized as follows: Mr. F. W: Hodge, ethnologist-in-charge, was occupied with admin- istrative affairs during the greater part of the year, but from time to time, as opportunity afforded, he was engaged in the preparation of an annotated Bibliography of the Pueblo Indians, with the result that almost 1,100 cards bearing titles, descriptions of contents, etc., of writings pertaining to the Pueblos were completed. Knowledge of the Pueblo Indians commenced with the year 1539, and these people have been the subject of so much attention by early Spanish explorers and missionaries, as well as by ethnologists and others, in recent years, that the literature has become voluminous and widely scattered. The need of a guide to this array of material has been greatly felt by students, and for this reason Mr. Hodge has prepared notes on the subject for a number of years with the view of their final elaboration in the form of a bibliography. Late in August Mr. Hodge proceeded to New Mexico, and after a brief visit to the archeological sites in the Rito de Los Frijoles, northwest of Santa Fé, where excavations were conducted in con- junction with the School of American Archeology in 1911, continued 85360°—sm 1912——4 37 38 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. to El Morro, or Inscription Rock, about 35 miles east of Zuni, for the purpose of making facsimile reproductions, or squeezes, of the Span- ish inscriptions there, which have such an important bearing on the early history of the Pueblo tribes. El] Morro is a picturesque emi- nence of sandstone rising from the sandy valley, and by reason of the former existence of a spring at its base, which is now merely a seep, it became an important camping place of the early Spaniards on their journeys to and from the Rio Grande and the Zuni and Hopi pueblos. The inscriptions of these early explorers were carved near the base of the rock, chiefly on the northern and southern sides of the highest portion of the mesa, and in the main consist of the names of the visitors with.the dates of their visits, but in a number of cases elaborated with a more or less full statement of the object of the journey. The earliest of the inscriptions is that of Juan de Onate, the colo- nizer of New Mexico and founder of the city of Santa Fé, who in- seribed his name and the object of his visit in 1606, on his return from a perilous journey to the Gulf of California. Others who visited the rock and left a record are, in order of date: Gov. Fran- cisco Manuel de Silva Nieto, who escorted the first missionaries to Zuni in 1629; Juan Gonzales, probably a member of the small mili- tary escort accompanying the same party, and bearing the same date (1629) ; Lujan, who visited Zufii in 1632 to avenge the murder of “Fray Francisco Letrado, one of the missionaries who accompanied Silva Nieto; Juan de Archuleta, Diego Martin Barba, and Agustin de Ynojos, 1636; Gov. Diego de Vargas, 1692, the conquerer of the Pueblos after their rebellion in 1680 which led to their independ- ence of Spanish authority during the succeeding 12 years; Juan de Uribarri, 1701; Ramon Paez Hurtado, 1709; Ju. Garcia de la Rivas, Feliz Martinez, and Fray Antonio Camargo, 1716; Joseph de Payba Basconzelos, 1726; Juan Paez Hurtado and Joseph Truxillo, 1736; Martin de Elizacochea (bishop of Durango) and Juan Ignacio de Arrasain, 1737; and others of the eighteenth century. These in- scriptions were all carefully photographed by Mr. Jesse L. Nusbaum, with whose aid Mr. Hodge made paper squeezes which were brought to Washington and transferred to the National Museum, where Mr. Nusbaum later made plaster casts of the paper negatives, insuring the permanent preservation of the inscriptions in this manner. This work was accomplished none too soon, since deterioration by weather- ing’ is progressing in some parts of the cliff face bearing the inscrip- tions, while vandalism is perhaps playing an even more serious part in the destruction of these important historical records, notwithstand- ing the fact that El Morro has been created a national monument by Executive order. > REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 39 Karly in September Mr. Hodge joined Dr. Edgar L. Hewett, direc- tor of the School of American Archeology, and his assistants, in the Jemez Valley, about 65 miles northwest of Albuquerque, for the pur- pose of conducting excavations, under the joint auspices of the bureau and the school, in an extensive ruined pueblo on a mesa 1,800 feet in height, skirting the valley on the west. This village was occupied within the historical period by the Jemez people, by whom it is known as Kwasteyukwa. The ruins cover an area approximately 850 by 600 feet, and even on partial excavation exhibited distinct evi- dence of occupancy at two different periods. The original pueblo was considerably larger than the one later inhabited, although the latter was built on the ruins of the older and of the same materials. The walls were of tufa blocks, rudely shaped and set in adobe mortar; the rooms were small, the masonry crude, and practically none of the walls remain standing above ground. A large artificial reservoir in a northwestern angle of the ruin furnished the water supply, and various smaller depressions probably mark the sites of kivas. The later inhabitants—those within the historical period, or about the first half of the seventeenth century—buried their dead in and be- neath the débris of the older part of the pueblo. The mortuary ac- companiments were of the usual character, speaking in general terms—pottery, traces of textiles, stone and bone implements and other objects, and a few ornaments. The finding of glass beads with the remains of a child, and an iron nail in another grave, bear testi- mony of the comparatively recent occupancy of the village by the Jemez Indians. It was the custom of the inhabitants to throw large stones into the graves, resulting in the breaking of almost all the pottery deposited with the dead. The fragments were carefully pre- served, however, and will be repaired by the National Museum. A noteworthy specimen of pottery bears in its decoration a feather design almost identical with feather symbols found on ancient pot- tery of the Hopi, and therefore tending to verify traditions of the latter people that some of their ancestral clans came from the Jemez. Dr. J. Walter Fewkes, ethnologist, was engaged in field work from July to October, having especially in view the determination of the western limits of the ancient Pueblo culture in Arizona. Out- fitting at Jerome, in that State, he proceeded to certain large ruins cn the upper Verde, on Oak Creek, and in Sycamore Canyon, where some time was spent at each locality in photographing and in making plans of these and adjacent remains, as well as in a study of the formerly occupied caves near the mouth of Oak Creek. Crossing the rough country separating the upper course of Oak Creek and the great sandstone cliffs known as the Red Rocks, Dr. Fewkes revisited and further studied the large cliff dwellings, known as Honanki and 40 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Palatki, excavated by him in 1895. Several hitherto undescribed ruins were added to the list of ancient remains in this general vicinity. From the Red Rocks Dr. Fewkes returned to the Verde and fol- lowed that stream upward to the Jordan ranch, where cliff houses of an instructive character were photographed and studied. He also investigated on the hills back of Cornville certain large stone struc- tures of the type known to Spanish-speaking people as trincheras, rude but massive fortifications that here begin to assume importance. A number of ruins hitherto unrecorded belonging to the cave- or cliff- dwelling type were observed in the walls of Sycamore Canyon, or Dragoon Fork, and the outlines of stone houses were seen above the river terrace near the junction of Sycamore Creek and Verde River. A large aboriginal fort, with walls well preserved, was found on a height overlooking the Verde, above the mouth of Granite Creek, and others more nearly destroyed were seen at the Baker ranch and in Hell Canyon, not far from Del Rio Station. Near the Baker ranch, a mile or two down the Verde, are the remains of a cliff dwelling, directly in the line of a projected railroad, which will probably be destroyed when the road is constructed. Dr. Fewkes also visited the ruins of several fragile-walled habitations, consisting of low mounds, near Jerome Junction and Del Rio. Although many evidences of such ancient dwellings are here seen, most of the foundation walls have been carried away by settlers and used in their own house building. A large fort, with well-preserved walls, occupies a low limestone ridge east of Williamson Valley, above the trail from Del Rio west- ward, and commanding a view of the valley west of Jerome. ‘This fort is typical of the trincheras that appear more and more frequently as one proceeds westward from the upper Verde. Several incon- spicuous ruins, hitherto undescribed, were found in Williamson Val- ley, those situated on the hills belonging to the fortification type, while those in the valleys consist merely of low mounds of Stone and other débris. Proceeding westward from Chino Valley, many interesting ruins were observed along the valley of Walnut Creek, referred to in Lieut. A. W. Whipple’s report of 1853 as Pueblo Valley, once noted as the site of old Camp Hualapai. This vale, from Aztec Pass to the point where the creek is lost in the sands of Williamson Valley, was ex- tensively tilled in prehistoric times, as is attested by the well-marked remains of ancient irrigation ditches. Characteristic petroglyphs were also found in Walnut Valley. . As elsewhere in this region, two types of ruins were observed in Walnut Valley, namely, (1) extensive stone fortifications with mas- sive walls crowning the hilltops on both sides of the valley and com- manding a wide view, and (2), on the low terraces bordering the stream, clusters of small mounds constituting the remains of farm- REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 4] houses, upright posts supporting walls of wattling plastered with mud like the jacales of the Mexicans and evidently identical in their general character with the dwellings of certain Yuman tribes. Among the best preserved of the forts, called “ pueblos ” by Whipple, are those near Aztec Pass and at Drew’s ranch, Shook’s ranch, and Peter Marx’s ranch, while others are found farther down Walnut Creek. No trace of terraced pueblo dwellings were seen in this region. In order to shed further light on the relations of the two types of ruins described, Dr. Fewkes made an examination of the ancient re- mains along the Agua Fria and near Prescott. At both places the ruins were found to be of the same dual character. In a few in- ‘stances, as at Frog Tanks, near the mouth of the Agua Fria, the ruins suggest the great houses or compounds of the Salt and Gila Valleys, but here also trincheras and fragile-walled houses are the more common. The observations made by Dr. Fewkes during this field season in- dicate that the ruins in the region referred to are the remains of buildings so different in architecture from that of true pueblos that it is probable the culture of their occupants was also different. Dr. Fewkes reached the conclusion that the ruins of the forts and small dwellings referred to were constructed and used by a Yuman people whose descendants, more or less mixed with Apache and other non- related tribes, are represented to-day by the Hualapai, Yavapai, and Havasupai Indians. Although the jacal domiciles of western Ari- zona were probably structurally similar to certain ancient houses in the Pueblo region of New Mexico, the river-terrace houses of Walnut Valley were more like certain habitations of the lower Gila River than they were the pueblos of the Rio Grande. On returning to Washington Dr. Fewkes prepared a report on his observations in this interesting archeological field, which, with suitable illustrations, is now in press as one of the accompanying papers ofthe twenty-eighth annual report. Dr. Fewkes also gave considerable time to reading the proofs and arranging the illustrations of his memoir on Casa Grande, which likewise is to appear in the twenty-eighth annual report. On the completion of the above work Dr. Fewkes commenced the preparation of another paper, relating to “Designs on Prehistoric Hopi Pottery,” a subject to which he devoted much attention in con- nection with his studies of the Hopi Indians for 20 years. This memoir, which was well advanced toward completion at the close of the fiscal year, accompanied by numerous plates and text figures, is designed as a key to the interpretation of the decoration of ancient Hopi earthenware. The great multiplicity of life designs appearing on the pottery of ancient Silyatki are treated in the paper, in which 492 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. modifications in decorative devices derived from feathers, birds, and other animals, and conventional figures are likewise discussed. One object of Dr. Fewkes’s treatise is to meet a growing desire of those interested in primitive symbolism, and another is to define the pecul- jarities of one ceramic area of the Pueblos as a basis for comparison with others, thus facilitating the study of Pueblo culture origins and prehistoric migration routes. As the construction of the Panama Canal has tended to stimulate an interest in aboriginal remains in the West Indies, and as many archeological specimens differing from those of the Antilles previ- ously known are now being brought to light, the time for a scientific study of them, as well as of the aboriginal sites of the West Indies, has arrived. Much of the interest recently manifested in early In- dian life in the West Indies may be ascribed to Dr. Fewkes’s memoir on “The Aborigines of Porto Rico and Neighboring Islands,” which appears in the twenty-fifth annual report. Since the publication of this paper the new material has become so abundant that plans have been made for Dr. Fewkes to resume his study of West Indian arche- ology. The most noteworthy collection of aboriginal objects from this area made in recent years is that of George G. Heye, Esq., of New York, who courteously has placed his material at the disposal of the bureau as an aid to these investigations. This collection has been studied by Dr. Fewkes and the most important objects con- tained therein are now being drawn for illustrative purposes. Dr. Fewkes’s researches thus far indicate that the so-called Tainan culture of Porto Rico and San Domingo was represented in the Lesser Antilles by an agricultural people, probably Arawak, who were conquered and absorbed by the marauding Carib. Study of the collections above noted tend to show that several of the Lesser Antilles were marked by characteristic types of pottery, indicating their occupancy by a people superior in culture to the Carib and to those found there at the time of the discovery by Columbus. New light has been shed on the relations of these early Antillean people and the Orinoco tribes, which, although generally called Carib, were probably an antecedent people of higher culture. Mr. James Mooney, ethnologist, spent the first three months of the fiscal year in continuing investigations among the East Cherokee of western North Carolina, and in locating and investigating mixed- blood remnant bands in the eastern part of that State. The Cherokee work consisted chiefly of a continuation and extension of the study of the aboriginal sacred formulas of the priests and doctors of the tribe, with the accompanying ceremonies and prescriptions. Although the former dances and tribal gatherings have fallen into disuse, the family rites and medical ceremonies still hold sway among the full bloods. REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 43 The so-called “Croatan Indians” of southeastern North Carolina were found to be an important and prosperous community, number- ing about 8,000, evidently of Indian stock with admixture of negro and white blood, and closely resembling the Pamunkey Indian rem- nant tribe in Virginia, but with no survival of Indian language or custom and with almost no knowledge of their own history. After years of effort they have secured definite State recognition as an Indian people. There is no foundation in fact for the name “Croa- tan Indians,” which they themselves now repudiate, and in all prob- ability they represent the mixed-blood descendants of the aboriginal tribes of the region which they now occupy. The existence was also established, and the location ascertained, of several smaller bands of similar mixed-blood stock, but without official recognition, in the eastern section of the two Carolinas. The remainder of the year was devoted by Mr. Mooney to the com- pilation of material in connection with his pending study of Indian population. By reason of the shifting, disintegration, and new com- binations of tribes, no one section can be treated separately or finally as apart from others. Considering the difficulties met in a study of this kind, the work is making satisfactory progress. Dr. John R. Swanton, ethnologist, devoted most of the year to field researches among the Creek Indians in Oklahoma. These investi- gations continued from the middle of September, 1911, to the middle of May, 1912, during which period excursions were made into Texas to visit the Alibamu Indians and for the purpose of endeavoring to trace remnants of other Texas tribes, and to the Caddo Indians of southwestern Oklahoma. No remains of Texas tribes, of ethnologic value, other than the Alibamu, were located, but a considerable mass of material was obtained from the latter. Dr. Swanton’s visit to the Caddo was with the view of learning how many of the old Caddo dialects were still spoken, and some valuable documentary material was obtained in Natchitoches, Louisiana. No words of Haiish, sup- posed to be quite distinct from the other Caddo dialects, could be gathered, but evidence was obtained that it resembled Adai. In the course of his Creek investigations Dr. Swanton visited and made photographs of every busk ground of the Creeks and Seminole still maintained, and information was gathered regarding the organiza- tion of the “ big house” in each, as well as in those that have been abandoned. Dr. Swanton devoted July and August, 1911, mainly to the study of the Hitchiti and Natchez languages, and the period sub- sequent to his return to Washington in May, 1912, was occupied in copying his field notes and in incidental work on the Timucua language of ancient Florida, as preserved in Father Pareja’s writings. with the view of determining whether Timucua bears any relation to the languages of the Muskhogean stock. 44 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. On his way from Oklahoma to Washington, Dr. Swanton stopped at Bloomington, Indiana, for the purpose of representing the bureau at the fifth annual meeting of the Mississippi Valley Historical Association, before which he read a paper on “ De Soto’s line of march, from the point of view of an ethnologist.” Mrs. M. C. Stevenson, ethnologist, continued her field researches of the Tewa tribes of New Mexico throughout the fiscal year, devoting attention particularly to those of San Ildefonso and Santa Clara, and incidentally to the Tewa of Nambe and San Juan. The pueblo of Pojoaque is now practically extinct as an Indian settlement, only about six Tewa remaining in that village. Special attention was devoted to the religious, political, and social organizations of these peoples, which, owing to their extreme conservatism, are difficult to determine. The Tewa are divided not only into clans with patrilineal descent, but each tribe consists of a Sun people and an Ice people, each with its own kiva, or ceremonial chamber. At San Ildefonso the | kiva for the Sun people is known as Po‘tée, “ Squash kiva,” and that of the Ice people is Kun’iyii"tée, “ Turquoise kiva.” The element ¢ée signifies “round,” hence indicating that originally the Tewa kivas were circular. olan RISlhiola oO/S/O/SO!lo Diagram showing increase of exchange transmissions, in tons of 2,000 pounds, from 1850 to 1912, divided into periods of five years each. For purposes of comparison, the number and weight of packages of different classes are indicated in the following table: Packages. Weight. Sent. |Received.| Sent. |Received. Pounds. | Pounds. United States parliamentary documents sent abroad ..........- 136) 722. ee 128) 253 \e)— et -/- tee Publications received in return for parliamentary documents...|......-..-.- PY DAE ea eee 17,794 United States departmental documents sent abroad..........-.- C2 TASS (See cee aaa = 18059005 |Ee seems Publications received in return for departmental docunrents....).....-.---- 9 462s (Saree ee 19,113 Miscellaneous, scientific, and literary publications sent abroad..| 56,110 |........-- 113 003s seas le ase Miscellaneous, scientific, and literary publications received from abroad for distribution in the United States.................-|.--------- tS £ gu (te cs Rae 108, 969 Motal-= So shet 2 etes ise tee ares ee eae epic cbw=ln'e 265, 270 50,222 | 422,836 145, 876 Grand totatis saves. bee Sere PP hy ee kee ek 315, 492 568,712 60 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The disparity indicated by the foregoing statistics between the number of packages sent and those received in behalf of the Govern- ment is accounted for, in part, by the fact that packages sent abroad contain, as a rule, only one publication, while those received in re- turn often comprise many volumes, in some instances, especially in the case of publications received in return for parliamentary docu- ments, the term “ package ” being applied to large boxes containing 100 or more separate publications, of which no lists are made in Washington, as the boxes are forwarded to their destinations un- opened. Furthermore, many returns for publications sent abroad reach their destinations direct by mail and not through the Exchange Service. Proper allowance being made for these circumstances, it is, never- theless, apparently true that the publications of the United States Government sent to foreign countries greatly exceed in number those received by the Library of Congress and the several executive de- partments, bureaus, and independent offices. This in turn appears to be due mainly to the fact that most foreign Governments publish less extensively on scientific and other subjects than our own, The fiscal relations between the Government and scientific and other in- stitutions are more complex in many countries than is the case in the United States, and the distinction between public documents and other publications is not so clear, especially where the printing for the Government is not centralized in one office or is not done by the Government itself. While several of the departments and bureaus of our own Govern- ment have expressed themselves satisfied with the returns received through the Exchange Service, it is proposed to make a further in- vestigation of this subject for the purpose of ascertaining whether some important publications and series of publications have not been overlooked, and also what proportion the number of the publications issued by certain European Governments in a given year bears to the number received by the departments and bureaus of the United States Government, and to the number sent to the former. It will be obvious that a debit and credit account is out of the question in a case of this kind. While a scientific or literary institution issues publications for the benefit of the whole world, a Government issues reports and other documents mainly for purposes of record and for the information of its own officers and its own citizens. The more largely the people are directly concerned in the Government, and the more extended its interests and activities, the greater will be the out- put of reports and other publications. Such a Government will have much more to offer'than it can expect to receive in return from a smaller country. As regards the exchange of miscellaneous scientific and literary publications, it will be noted that the weight in pounds of those REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 61 received into the United States through the Exchange Service during the fiscal year 1911 more than doubled the weight of those sent abroad, while the weight of those received during the fiscal year 1912, cov- ered by this report, almost equalled that of those sent abroad. There is every reason, therefore, to believe that this important branch of the work yields adequate returns. By referring to the foregoing table it will be noted that 70 per cent of the work of the office has been conducted in behalf of United States governmental establishments. Of the 2,395 boxes used in forwarding exchanges to foreign bu- reaus and agencies for distribution (an increase of 15 boxes over 1911), 828 boxes contained full sets of United States official docu- ments for authorized depositories and 2,067 were filled with depart- mental and other publications for depositories of partial sets and for miscellaneous correspondents. The number of boxes sent to each foreign country and the dates of transmission are shown in the fol- lowing table: Consiguments of exchanges to foreign countries. Country. ee | Date of transmission. | Pee ee Ae Arpenting 225-250 Las 36 | July 15, Aug. 16, Sept. 20, Oct. 18, Nov. 23, Dec. 27, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 22, Apr. 22, May 23, June 22, 1912. AMAStTIY sue seee oe a 83 | July 12, Aug. 3, Sept. 7, Oct. 6, Nov. 14, Dec. 6, 1911; Jan. 10, Feb. 7, Mar. 6, Apr. 3, May 8, June 5, 1912. Barbados!’ i220 = 2 2 | Mar. 27, June 27, 1912. Belgium se scence se cons 62 | July 8, 29, Aug. 12, 29, Sept. 23, Oct. 14, Nov. 4, 25, Dec. 16, 1911; Jan. 6, 27, Feb. 17, Mar. 16, 30, Apr. 27, May 18, June 8, 1912. Bermuda: soc. sees 25 1| Feb. 15, 1912. IBOMVWI Sc cio oe, Sstoteate 12 | Aug. 29, Sept. 28, Nov. 13, 1911; Jan. 30, Feb. 24, Mar. 22, May 23, June 22, 1912. fe BT AZ Se eee Ses 31 | July 15, Aug. 16, Sept. 20, Oct. 18, Nov. 25, Dee. 27, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 22, Apr. 22, May 23, June 22, 1912. British Colonies. ....._. 12 | July 3, Aug. 12, 21, Sept. 2, Oct. 30, Nov. 4, 1911; Jan. 6, 20, 27, Apr. 27, June 8, 1912. British Guiana......-... 2 | Jan. 30, June 29, 1912. British Honduras. .---. 1 | Jan. 30, 1912. Bulgaria ++5>. 552 422-4 3 | July 28, Sept. 29, Nov. 7, 1911. Canada jo. one 6 | Aug. 10, Nov. 10, 1911; Jan. 10, Apr. 1, 25, June 1, 1912. Cape Colony........... 12 | Aug. 5, Nov. 7, 1911; Jan. 25, Apr. 15, May 31, June 27, 1912. Chiles sere. eee eee 22 | July 15, Aug. 16, Sept. 20, Oct. 18, Nov. 23, Dec. 27, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 22, Apr. 22, May 24, June 22, 1912. OHA Y ae wee 23} July 21, Aug. 26, Sept. 29, Nov. 4, Dec. 29, 1911; Jan. 31, Feb. 28, Mar. 27, Apr. 30, May 31, June 27, 1912. Colonibia-2-e eee 14 Aug. 21, Sept. 28, Nov. 23, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Apr. 22, May 23, 1912. Gosta RCs. 25 3 hcl 17 | July 27, Aug. 21, Sept. 28, Oct. 27, Nov. 23, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 24, Apr. 22, May 23, June 22, 1912. Caases I c FES 5 eA 6 | Aug. 10, Nov. 10, 1911; Jan. 10, Apr. 1, 25, June 1, 1912. Denmark. 2s <2 31 | July 19, Aug. 24, Sept. 27, Oct. 19, Nov. 16, Dec. 19, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 15, Apr. 15, May 20, June 20, 1912. MGHADON oN oeeasceanse 7! Aug. 29, Sept. 28, Nov. 13, 1911; Jan. 30, Feb. 24, Apr. 30, June 22, 1912, 62 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Consignments of exchanges to foreign countries—Continued. Country. orober Date of transmission. BPYy pt. i3/o Me. shee 13 | July 22, Aug. 25, Sept. 26, Oct. 28, Nov. 25, 1911; Jan. 13, Feb. 3, Mar. 9, Apr. 6, May 4, June 8, 1912. PT ANCOs see Voce see soe 207 | July 6, 26, Aug. 10, 24, Sept. 15, 28, Oct. 12, Nov. 1, 23, Dec. 8, 21, 1911; Jan. 4, 25, Feb. 8, 29, Mar. 14, 28, Apr. 4, 25, May 9, June 6, 27, 1912. Germanys 224) 22522: 410 | July 6, 11, 18, 25, Aug. 1, 8, 15, 22, 29, Sept. 2, 12, 19, 26, Oct. 3, 10, 17, 31, Nov. 7, 14, 21, 28, Dec. 5, 12, 19, 1911; Jan. 3, 9, 16, 23, 30, Feb. 6, 13, 20, 27, Mar. 5, 12, 19, 26, Apr. 2, 9, 16, 28, 30, May 7, 15, 21, 28, June 4, 11, *8, 25, 1912. Great Britain and Ire- 423 | July 3, 8, 15, 22,29, Aug. 5, 12,19, 26, Sept. 2, 11, 18, 23, 30, Oct. 7, 14, 23, land. 30, Nov. 4, 11, 18, 25, Dec. 2, 9,16, 27, 1911; Jan. 6, 13, 20, 27, Feb. 3, 10, 17, 24, Mar. 2,9, 16, 23, 30, Apr. 6, 18, 20, 27, May 4, 11, 18, 25, June 1, 8, 15, 22, 29, 1912. Greebe. sige skeet atet 19 | July 28, Aug. 29, Sept. 27, Nov. 7, Dec. 28, 1911; Jan. 25, Feb. 26, Mar. 27, Apr. 25, May 25, June 27, 1912. Guatemalync ne. ecascer 8 | July 27, Aug. 29, Sept. 28, Nov. 13, 1911; Jan. 30, Feb. 24, Apr. 30, June 22, 1912. IS Aer BRB ee pee 6 | Aug. 10, Nov. 10,1911; Jan. 10, Apr. 1, 25, June 1, 1912. EFONGULaSE sseeene ieee 7 | July 27, Sept. 28, Nov. 13, 1911; Jan. 30, Feb. 24, Apr. 30, June 22, 1912. 13 (bhiteo aoe esecoepena cor 39 | July 12, Aug. 3, Sept. 7, Oct. 6, Nov. 14, Dec. 6, 1911; Jan. 10, Feb. 7, Mar. 6, Apr. 3, May 8, June 5, 1912. ANIGias j= aeceeseeeeicd 38 | July 3,29, Aug. 5,12, Sept. 2, 18,23, Oct. 14, 23, 30, Nov. 4, 18, 25, 1911; Jan. 6, 20, 30, Feb. 17,24, Mar. 9, 16, 23, 30, Apr. 13, 27, May 4, 18, June 8, 15, 22,1912. Atalyaeses os2-5 poco 96 | July 24, Aug. 5, Sept. 2, 25, Oct. 16, Nov. 11, 25, 1911; Jan. 13, Feb. 3, Mar. 9, Apr. 6, May 4,18, June 8, 29, 1912. JOIMAICS 3 932.56 seers See 8 | July 27, Aug. 31, Sept. 29, Nov. 29, 1911; Jan. 30, Feb. 26, Apr. 30, June 27, 1912. Apa geass seeenaas 62 | July 21, Aug. 26, Sept. 27, Oct. 20, Nov. 20, Dee. 28, 1911; Jan. 23, Feb. 21, Mar. 20, Apr. 20, May 20, June 20,1912. ROTO 22 Cun. Beis ae ere 4 | Sept. 29, 1911; Feb. 26, Mar. 27, June 27, 1912. Wi berine os tec sees 5 | July 27, Sept. 29, Nov. 13, 1911; Feb. 26, June 27, 1912. Lourenco Marquez..... 2 | Nov. 13, 1911; June 22, 1912. Manitobaves tee: Os sc6 6 | Aug. 10, Noy. 10, 1911; Jan. 10, Apr. 1, 25, June 1, 1912. Mexico. fast esate 6 | Aug. 10, Nov. 10, 1911; Jan. 10, Apr. 1, 25, June 1, 1912. Montenegro.......--..- 3 | Nov. 18, 1911; Feb. 24, June 22, 1912. INabaliec. ec oat arse 2 | Sept. 2, 1911; Feb. 24, 1912. Netherlands) - eee 60 | July 11, 29, Aug. 29, Sept. 19, Oct. 17, Nov. 14, 28, Dec. 12, 1911; Jan. 9. 30, Feb. 27, Mar. 12, 26, Apr. 9, 23, May 7, June 4, 25, 1912. Newfoundland......... 2 | Jan. 16, Apr. 11, 1912. New South Wales... --- 33 | July 20, Aug. 22, Sept. 21, Oct. 28, Nov. 25, Dec. 21, 1911; Jan. 24, Feb. 15, Mar. 20, Apr. 20, May 20, June 20, 1912. New Zealand..........-. 28 | July 20, Aug. 22, Sept. 21, Oct. 28, Nov. 25, Dec. 21, 1911; Jan. 24, Feb. 15, Mar. 20, Apr. 20, May 20, June 20, 1912. INICaTa gua: 2 ese tseee 5 | Aug. 29, Sept. 28, 1911; Jan. 30, Feb. 24, June 22, 1912. INOLWAY=/252- shee pes e 28 | July 19, Aug. 24, Sept. 27, Oct. 19, Nov. 16, Dec. 19, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 15, Apr. 15, May 20, June 20, 1912. Ontario se esses ees 6 | Aug. 10, Nov. 10, 1911; Jan. 10, Apr. 1, 25, June 1, 1912. (PANAING: sacle a jcicje Aocise ele 3 | Nov. 18, 1911; Feb. 24, June 22, 1912. Palestine: 7. sso emanate 4] Aug. 31, Nov. 29, 1911; June 27, 1912. PON os teach = Sataoerceine 18 | July 15, Aug. 16, Sept. 20, Oct. 18, Nov. 23, Dee. 27, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 22, Apr. 22, May 23, June 22, 1912. artupalls:: 2333.02.31 a 19 | July 19, Aug. 24, Sept. 27, Oct. 19, Nov. 16, Dec. 19, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 15, Apr. 16, May 20, June 20, 1912. Oyebees s.- -s-.- scan 6 | Aug. 10, Noy. 10, 1911; Jan. 10, Apr. 1, 25, June 1, 1912. REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. 63 Consignnents of exchanges to foreign countries—Continued. Country. ecaer Date of transmission. Queensland ...-...-.-.- 21 | July 20, Aug. 22, Sept. 21, Oct. 28, Nov. 25, Dec. 21, 1911; Jan. 28, Feb. 15, Mar. 20, Apr. 20, May 20, June 20, 1912. FROUMANIA <= -26= ton 10 | July 28, Sept. 29, Nov. 7, 1911; Apr. 10, May 31, June 27, 1912. BUUSSIR Senate erate ea ahs 81 | July 13, Aug. 4, Sept. 7, Oct. 6, Nov. 11, Dec. 7, 1911; Jan. 11, Feb. 8, Mar. 7, Apr. 4, May 9, 29, 1912. Salvador 22: .ffo23 yeeee 7 | Aug. 29, Sept. 28, Nov. 29, 1911; Jan. 30, Feb. 24, Apr. 30, June 22, 1912. Santo Domingo......-. 1 | Sept. 29, 1911. Senviat 2... shessee ss: 12 | Aug. 29, Nov. 7, 1911; Jan. 24, May 7, June 27, 1912. Siamsstahos 4). doe ee See 10 | July 28, Oct. 10, Nov. 4, Dec. 29, 1911; Jan. 31, Feb. 26, Mar. 28, Apr. 30, May 31, June 29, 1912. South Australia.......- 19 | July 20, Aug. 22, Sept. 21, Oct. 28, Nov. 25, Dec. 21, 1911; Jan. 24, Feb. 15, Mar. 20, Apr. 20, May 20, June 20, 1912. Spain. ss2 thee bates 30 | July 22, Aug. 25, Sept. 26, Oct. 28, Nov. 25, 1911; Jan. 13, Feb, 3, Mar. 9, Apr. 6, May 4, June 8, 29, 1912. WOOT wanes eras ere 54 | July 13, Aug. 4, Sept. 7, Oct. 6, Nov. 11, Dec. 7, 1911; Jan. 11, Feb. 8, Mar. 7, Apr. 4, May 6, June 6, 1912. Switzerland...........-. 53 | July 8, 29, Aug. 10, 29, Sept. 23, Oct. 14, Nov. 4, 25, Dec. 16, 1911; Jan. 6, 27, Feb. 16, Mar. 16, 30, Apr..27, May 18, June 8, 1912. PYDAe sao se sees 4 | Nov. 2, 1911; Feb. 5, 1912. Tasmania si. 22/53 93)¢ 10 | Oct. 30, Nov. 4, 1911; Jan. 6, Apr. 27, 1912. SDPATIS VAG sors 55 Jsiy2 we 19 | July 27, Aug. 29, Sept. 28, Nov. 7, 1911; Jan. 25, Feb. 24, Mar. 27, Apr. 26, May 22, June 22, 1912. Aina el (ort lie teet elapse 4| Aug. 31, 1911; Jan. 30, Mar. 27, June 27, 1912. MuapkOyias seesaw s 2 2S 15 | Aug. 30, Nov. 2, 1911; Jan. 31, Feb. 28, Mar. 28, Apr. 30, May 31, 1912. Urn euayse...2 sasnte = 2 19 | July 15, Aug. 21, Sept. 20, Oct. 27, Nov. 23, Dec. 27, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Mar. 22, Apr. 22, May 23, June 22, 1912. Wenezilela: i262 ts. fas Ss 14 | Aug. 21, Sept. 28, Nov. 23, 1911; Jan. 20, Feb. 20, Apr. 22, May 23, June 23, 1912. Mictoriass: .< 1 MGXICOS seme sonenco as ccm ae 48 Newfoundland........... 7 West Indies— ATA STIE sin aiszseeistet=rise = 3 Bahamas occ soe =e 4 IBSYDadOSs ccc seemscc: - 7 IBEMMUGAaS | cohascccase~s 2 Cuba ssacesseons= sss. 20 DWominicaze. = sciencscce: 1 QGrenadac te. c-s2c5-5<25- 1 gS ES 5 ee ee ea te ee 2 SHINBICHS iaroe anak soe la 10 St. Christopher........-. 1 85360°—sMm 1912——6 Individ- uals. Organi- zations. Individ- uals. America (North)—Contd. West Indies—Contd. pS) fal ba prentrienloe 2 abet ele es St bhomas eee cse oe Sb Vincent sos... -aac8 San Domingo..........- eDrimidad ;.. seer skeen America (South): PAT SOMTING ecm mciiecice sce IB OL Wia eee eck oe aoe oe Asia: Philippine Islands... . Sarawak..... Seapets Australasia: New South Wales........ New Zealand............. Queensland 2255.0 -acec-t South Australia.......... Europe: Austria-Hungary -.....--. 70 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Table showing the number of institutions and individuals in foreign countries to which packages were transmiited through the International Hachange Service during the first six months of the fiscal year 1912—Continued. Respectfully submitted. F. W. Trus, Assistant Secretary in charge of Library and Exchanges. Dr. Cuartes D. Watcort, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. Ocroser 7, 1912. Organi- | Individ- Organi- | Individ- zations. uals, ~zations. uals. A Europe—Continued. Europe—Continued. Denmiarkesjasccccse secs 51 48 ARUSSIB: aoe eae eee 217 256 WFANCOEe couk seems sel 682 702 DELVIGe Re ese access 10 2 Germanyie-suc o-eesens eae 957 1, 233 SPsiDkies sey eee eee eas 75 62 Great Britain. scene 1,012 1, 794 Swedentage ao essen 91 127 GTOCCOR cose cee eee 18 17 Switzerland: 22 4252-.-52.)- 48 154 Weeland eee ence eee 7 5 TUrKOY x Senisies tot Be ee AQ 0 a . a os 3 7 REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. Animals in the collection June 30, 1912—Continued. MAMMALS—Continued. Guanaco (Lama huanachus)—~~~-~--- Eilames, (Loma. glama)=——- = Alpaca: (Lamaupacos) 22-2 a2 EEE Vieugna (Lama vicugna) ——----------- Bactrian camel (Camelus bactrianus )— Muntjae (Cervulus muntjac)—---~--- Sambar deer (Cervus aristotelis) _—~~ Philippine deer (Cervus philippinus) —- Hog deer (Cervus porcinus) —_------- Barasingha deer (Cervus duvaucelii) —— Axis deer (Cervusaris}=2-2+— 25-25 .= Japanese deer (Cervus sika)—~------- Red deer (Cervus elaphus) —---~-----=- American elk (Cervus canadensis) —~~~~ Fallow deer (Cervus dama)——---~----- Reindeer (Rangifer tarandus) ~------- Virginia deer (Odocoileus virginianus) — Mule deer (Odocoileus henvionus) —--_- Columbian black-tailed deer (Odocot- LEUSUCOUUMOLONUS) p= = Cuban deer (Odocoileus sp.)--------~- Prong-horn antelope (Antilocapra americana) Coke’s hartebeest (Bubalis cokei) ~~~ Bontebok (Damaliscus pygargus) —~~~-~~ Blessbok (Damaliscus albifrons) —----- White-tailed gnu (Connochetes gnu) __- Defassa water buck (Cobus defassa) —— European blackbird (Merula merula) ~~ Brown thrasher (Toxostoma rufwin) —_— Japanese robin (Liothrir luteus) —~-~~ White-cheeked bulbul (Pycnonotus leu- cogenys ) Black bulbul (Pycnonotus pyg@us) ——~ Laughing thrush (Garrulaxz leuco MO DTAGS: err ee ee ee ee Bishop finch (Tanagra episcopus) ———~ Orange-checked waxbill (2@strelda mel- poda) Amaduvade finch (2strelda amandava) — Cordon-bleu (Hstreida phenicotis) ~~~ Magpie finch (Spermestes fringilloides) — Cut-throat finch (Amadina fasciata) __ Zebra finch (Amadina castanotis)_—__~ Black-headed finch (Munia airicapilia) — Three-colored finch (Munia malacca) —— White-headed finch (Munia maja)_--~-~ Nutmeg finch (Munia punctularia) ——~ Java sparrow (Munia oryzivora) ——___ White Java sparrow (Muwunia cryzivora) — Chestnut-breasted finch (Donacola ecastaneothorar) Parson finch (Poéphila cincia) -----_- Lady Gould’s finch (Poéphila gouldie) — Bearded finch (Spermophila sp.) -----~- Napoleon weaver (Pyromelana afra) ~~ Madagascar weaver (Foudia madagas- CUTACIISIS) am ae ae a oe ee Red-billed weaver (Quelea quelea) ~~ Whydah weaver (Vidua paradisea) ~~ Painted bunting (Passerina ciris)—--_~ 3 | Indian antelope (Antilope cervicapra) — 8 | Nilgai (Boselaphus tragocamelus) —--~ 2 } Congo harnessed antelope (Tragelaphus 2 OF GTUS) MaRS ee ae be SSE Bes 2 Hast African eland (Oreas canna pat- 1 FEF SOMIANUS) aS oo 2 | Chamois (Rupicapra tragus)—~-------- 1 | Tahr (Hemitragus jemlaicus)—~~----~~ 6 | Common goat (Capra hircus)-—-------~- 10)) Angorasgoat (Capra hirncus)—~=-—--—— 6 | Barbary sheep (Ovis tragelaphus) —~~~ 10 | Barbados sheep (Ovis aries-tragela- 6 TALS) ee 7 | Anoa (Anoa depressicornis) ————_-—-—— 6 | East African buffalo (Buffelus neu- 1 TOQUE) je eS A es ES 9) lt Zebu (Bibosandicus)H23 = Sa eee ee i.| Yak (Poephagus grunniens) —==——-- = American bison (Bison americanus) _—~— 1 | Wairy armadillo (Dasypus villosus) —-~ 1 | Wallaroo (Macropus robustus)——~--~~- Bennett’s wallaby (Macropus ruficollis 1 CONN CLT) weet ae SS en ee ee St 2 | Virginia opossum (Didelphys marsu- u DUDS) eae ka eR Et 1 | Common wombat (Phascolomys mitch- 1 Olli) Raa ea ee Ee al BIRDS. 1 | Red-crested cardinal (Paroaria cucul- 1 tate) eee ae ee ee ee 12 | Common eardinal (Cardinalis cardi- NOUS) a Soh Mon ah eI oe 5 |) Siskin (Spinus-spinws) £-— = 3 | European goldfinch (Carduelis elegans) — Yellow hammer (Himberiza citrinella) — 2 | Common canary (Serinus canarius) ~~~ 4 | Linnet (Linota cannabina) —-----_____ Bullfinch (Pyrrhula euwrope2r) ———----~ 6 | Hooded oriole (Jeterus cucullatus) ~~~ 4} Cowbird (Molothrus ater) —---_------~— 8 | Glossy starling (Lamprotornis cau- 10 LOTUS eee ee ear 11 | European raven (Corvus corar) ~~~ 4] American raven (Corvus corar sinua- 11 TALS) eR ee SR 7 | Common crow (Corvus brachyrhyn- 9 CTU Sigs ee ne ee 6 | Green jay (Xanthoura lruosa)——-~~~ 14 | White-throated jay (Garrulus leucotis) — 15 | Blue jay (Cyanocitta cristata) ------- American magpie (Pica pica hud- 10 OAC ase ee a ee ee 1 | Red-billed magpie (Urocissa occipi- 1 GUE) ea ee a 2 | Piping crow (Gymnorhina tibicen) —~__ 4 | Yellow tyrant (Pitangus derbianus) ~~ Giant kingfisher (Dacelo gigas)--~---~ 8 | Yellow-breasted toucan (Ramphastos 8 COMANOTUS) 2 ee ee ee 16 | Sulphur-crested cockatoo (Cacatua gal- 1 CLT td eee eer ee ee 73 wNoaaontwWe = = m Oo =) ho tO He te to = . 10 a H RPwWORUR WwW Oe 74 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Animals in the collection June 80, 1912—Continued. BIRDS—Continued. White cockatoo (Cacatua alba) ——~----- Leadbeater’s cockatoo (Cacatua lead- DEQEEH) BARE e S Repel Bese Meee ark. 2 Bare-eyed cockatoo(Cacatua gymnopis ) — Roseate cockatoo (Cacatua roseica- DUO) EE ae ee eee Gang-gang cockatoo (Callocephalon Galeatun) eee ps CA IU arcu YS Yellow and blue macaw (Ara ararau- nea) Red and yellow and blue macaw (Ara macao ) Red and blue macaw (Avra chlorop- tera) Great green macaw (Avra militaris) ~~ Kea (Nestor notabilis) 2-22 —- = a Mexican conure (Conurus holochlorus) — Carolina paroquet (Conwropsis caro- linensis ) Cuban parrot (Amazona leucocephala) — Orange-winged amazon (Amazona ama- Zonicay igs seer Se 2 SSR ee ee Porto Rican amazon (Amazona_ vit- CAL) 22 Es Se eee Yellow-shouldered amazon (Amazona ochroptera) Yellow-fronted amazon (Amazona och- rocephala) Yellow-headed amazon (Amazona levail- lanti) Blue-fronted amazon (Amazona @s- Lesser vasa parrot (Coracopsis nigra) — Banded parrakeet (Paleornis fasciata) — Rosella parrakeet (Platycercus exim- ius) Love bird (Agapornis pullaria) ~~~-~~~ Green parrakeet (Loriculus sp.)-—-~----~ Shell parrakeet (Jelopsittacus undu- latus) Great horned owl (Bubo virginianus) — Arctic horned owl (Bubo virginianus subarcticus) Screech owl (Otus asio)—--~---—___-_— Barred owl (Striv varia) ———-=——-=--— Sparrow hawk (Falco sparverius)——-~ Bald eagle (Haliwetus leucocephalus) — Alaskan bald eagle (Haliewetus leuco- CODNAUUS CLGSCONUS) an ee Golden eagle (Aquila chrysaétos) ~~~ Short-tailed eagle (Terathopius ecau- datus) Harpy eagle (Thrasaétus harpyia) —---~ Chilian eagle (Geranoaétus melanoleu- CUS) Se ee ar ee ere Crowned hawk eagle (Spizaétus coro- TULUUS)) Os ee en ee ee rete Red-tailed hawk (Buteo, borealis) ___~_ Broad-winged hawk (Buteo platypte- ES) ie aa ee Venezuelan. awke 2s) 22-—- = soe ae Caracara (Polyborus cheriway)—-~-~--~ Lammergeyer (Gypactus barbatus) ——--~ 6 wie oSanwmnwbde South American condor (Sarcorham- DUS OTyphus) Lo ae ae California condor (Gymnogyps ealifor- nianus ) Griffon vulture (Gyps fulvus)—~------ Cinereous vulture (Vultur monachus) — Egyptian vulture (Neophron percnop- terus ) Turkey vulture (Cathartes aura)—~~~~ Black vulture (Catharista wrwbi) —-~~-—~ King vulture (Gypagus papa) —-~-~---~- Ring dove (Columba palumbus)—~~--~ Snow pigeon (Columba leuconota) —~-~ Red-billed pigeon (Columba flaviros- tris) Mourning dove (Zenaidura macroura) ~~ Peaceful dove (Geopelia tranquilla) —__ Cape dove (Gina capensis) ------_-___ Blood-breasted pigeon (Phloganas lu- ZONICH) SS een Victoria crowned pigeon (Goura vic- Purplish guan (Penelope purpuras- COTS) ee ena ee reset ees Crested curassow (Craw alector)—---- Mexican curassow (Cra globicera) ~~~ Chapman’s curassow (Craxz chapmani) — Daubenton’s curassow (Craz dauben- tom) —2 22S 22 a eS Wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo sil- VeStTia a2 aan ee ee Peafowl, (Pavo cristata) === = Jungle fowl (Gallus bankiva) ~------- Reeves’s pheasant (Phasianus reevesi) — Golden pheasant (Thaumalea picta) —~ Silver pheasant (Huplocamus nycthem- erus) European quail (Coturniz communis) — Hungarian partridge (Perdiz perdiz) —- Bobwhite (Colinus virginanus) —~~----- Mountain quail (Oreortyx picta)—-_-_ Scaled quail (Callipepla squamata) ——~ California quail (Lophortyz californica) Massena quail (Cyrtonyx montezume@) — Purple gallinule (Porphyrio c@rulea) —~ Black-backed gallinule (Porphyrio mel- ONOVUS ean oe ee ee ae sarap Martinique gallinule (Jonornis mar- WNiCUS ) oo ou a eee ee el American coot (Fulica americana) ~~~ Flightless rail (Ocydromus australis) — Common cariama (Cariama cristata) —- Demoiselle crane (Anthropoides virgo) — Crowned crane (Balearica pavoninda) —_- Sandhill crane (Grus mexicana) —~----~- Australian crane (Grus australasiana) — European crane (Grus cinerea) ~----—- Sarus crane (Grus antigone)_---__---- Indian white crane (Grus lewcogerames ) — Thick-knee (@dicnemus grallarius) ——- Ruff (Machetes pugnamn)._—_—_-__-_-____ Black-crowned night heron (Nycticorar nycticoraw QE UAR)) nae a eee PhO RENNTH NNO -~ Ll Sod Sd _ = e RPOrRrR Nh OOH HY to PRN hw EF WN ORR ee es et REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. Animals in the collection June 30, 1912—Continued. BIRDS—Continued. Little blue heron (Florida cerulea) —-- Reddish egret (Dichromanassa rufes- CENe has 2 Se ee eee eee Sees Snowy egret (Hgretta candidissima) _~ Great white heron (Herodias egretta) — Great blue heron (Ardea herodias) —~~-- Great black-crowned heron (Ardea cocoi) Boat-bill (Cancroma cochlearia) ~~---- Bittern (Botauwrus lentiginosus) —----- Black stork (Ciconia nigra) ---------- White stork (Ciconia ciconia) ___----~ Marabou stork (Leptoptilus dubius)_—- Wood ibis (IMycteria american@é) _---~ Sacred ibis (Ibis ethiopica) _-------- Whitesibis: (Guana. aloa))2—---=- == +2 == Roseate spoonbill (Ajaja ajaja)—----- European flamingo (Phenicopterus CNTEQUOTALTIO ee en ee eae Crested screamer (Chauna cristata) —~ Trumpeter swan (Olor buccinator) —_- Whistling swan (Olor columbianus) —~ Mute swan (Cygnus gibbus)---------~ Black swan (Chenopis atrata)—----~-~ Muscovy duck (Cairina moschata) —-~~ White muscovy duck (Cairina mos- chata) Wandering ~*tree-duck (Dendrocygna OT CUATE) fe eee EELS Fulvous tree-duck (Dendrocygna bi- COLGT) ane SS a eS st = eet Egyptian goose (Chenaloper egyptia- CHES) ee es a er es Se eee Brant (Branta bernicla giaucogastra) — Canada goose (Branta canadensis) ~~~ Hutchin’s goose (Branta canadensis hutchinsii) Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) —~ Painted turtle (Chrysemys picta)—---~~ Diamond-back terrapin (Jalacoclemys palustris ) Three-toed box-tortoise (Cistudo triun- guis) Painted box-tortoise (Cistudo ornata) — Gopher turtle (Xerobates polyphemus) — Dunean Island tortoise (Testudo ephip- UNTO) = Seay RSs EE eS se Albemarle Island tortoise (Testudo ot) GOI TIN) ) = Se a Alligator lizard (Sceloporus undulatus) — Horned lizard (Phrynosoma cornutum) — Gila monster (Heloderina suspectum) — Glass snake (Ophisaurus ventralis) ~~~ Anaconda (Hunectes murinus)—-~---~~-~ Common boa (Boa constrictor) ------~ Antillean boa (Boa diviniloqua) ~~—~-~~-~ Cuban tree-boa (HZpicrates angulifer) —— Spreading adder (Heterodon platyrhi- 1 Lesser snow goose (Chen hyperboreus) — Greater snow goose (Chen hyperboreus 3 PEUC UES eee aa oe en es 4 | American white-fronted goose (Anser at alotfrons -gambell zak te 2b ee 3 | Chinese goose (Anser cygnoides)—~—~~ Red-headed duck (Mavila americana) _— 1 | Wood duck (Ai@ sponsa)_-__________ 2 | Mandarin duck (Dendronessa galeri- 1 CULGL) es Debian foo bea hs ae ie Pintawls (Dafilatacuta)a2* Ste" ose 1 | Shoveler duck (Spatula clypeata) —~---~ 1 | Black‘duck (Anas rubripes) ________-- 2 | Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos)——~---~ 4 American white pelican (Pelecanus 22 CRULRTOTRYNCROS) aoe ee 1 | Buropean white pelican (Pelecanus OROCKOUOUUS ya ee a ee 5 | Roseate pelican (Pelecanus roseus)—~~ 3 | Brown pelican (Pelecanus occiden- 1 EQUUS) VE Se ae Fal oe a A ee es 3 | Black-backed gull (Larus marinus) ——~ 2 | Herring gull (Larus argentatus)—--_~ 2 | American herring gull (Larus argenta- 1 tus smithsonianus) ——--_-----~---— Laughing gull (Larus atricilla) ~~~ 2 | Florida cormorant (Phalacrocoragz auri- CUS S/LOTICONUS) eo ee 7 | Mexican cormorant (Phalacrocorar BEOUE Te T CONUS eae ee 2 | Water turkey (Anhinga anhinga)-—--~-~ Somali ostrich (Struthio molybdo- 1 D RALTLC8)) ee 1 | Common eassowary (Casuarius gale- 8 CHAYES) [aft ESA BE VS AY SC eae ST Common rhea (Rhea americana) —~—~-~ 3 | Emu (Dromeus nove hollandie) ~~~ REPTILES. 18 | Black snake (Zamenis constrictor) ~--~ 4 | Coach-whip snake (Zamenis flagellum) — Corn snake (Coluber guttatus)—~_-_~-- 1 | Common chicken snake (OColubar quad- PEOLCUQ TLS) se oe es ee 6 | Gopher snake (Compsosoma_ corais 4 comuperit), 222 = east eset eee Se 1 | Pine snake (Pityophis melanoleucus) ~~ Bull snake (Pityophis sayi)--------_-- 2 | Texas chicken snake (Ophibolus calli- Gaster))—— 73) ote a a Seta 1 | King snake (Ophibolus getulus)—~-~~~ 1 | Common garter snake (Hutenia sirta- 1 1h) ie SES ee a ee ee eee 5 | Texas water snake (Hutenia prorima) — 1 | Water moccasin (Ancistrodon pisci- 2 (BOYS) ieee ee ea ee ee ee 1 | Copperhead (Ancistrodon contortri«) — 1 | Diamond rattlesnake (Crotalus ada- 3 MaOUNTEUS) pa 2a Se Soe SS Se eke Banded rattlesnake (Crotalus horri- 1 CLES) a ae ee 75 ae 76 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. GIFTS. The following persons presented animals to the park during the year: Miss Frances Gage Allison, New Bedford, Mass., a Diana monkey. Mrs. J. B. Ames, Winchester, Va., an albino squirrel. Mr. D. R. Anthony, jr., Washington, D. C., an alligator. Mr. Oscar E. Baynard, Washington, D. C., a black vulture. Mr. August Busck, Washington, D. C., a Panama squirrel. Maj. H. W. Carpenter, U. S. M. C., ret., Berryville, Va., two Cuban parrots. Mr. J. R. Eddy, Lamedeer, Mont., a western porcupine. Dr. Chas. W. Ely, Frederick, Md., a barred owl. Mr. W. H. Emery, jr., Washington, D. C., an alligator. Mr. Victor J. Evans, Washington, D. C., two marmosettes. Mr. Wallace Evans, Oak Park, Il., a mink. Mr. Gale, Washington, D. C., a horned lizard. Mr. W. 8S. S. Groh, Ashburn, Va., a common raccoon. Mr. John B. Henderson, jr., Washington, D. C., two common canaries. Mr. Holmes, Washington, D. C., a common opossum. Mrs. Kenrolde, Washington, D. C., a woodchuck. Mr. W. P. Mattoon, Washington, D. C., a “‘ glass snake.” Mr. F. A. Milligan, Washington, D. C., a common canary. Mr. Russell H. Millward, New York City, a paca. Mr. J. L. Narvell, Port Deposit, Md., two copperhead snakes. Mr. O. Schneider, Washington, D. C., two alligators. Messrs. D. A. Smith & L. E. Deaton, Walhalla, S. C., a bittern. Mr. S. Stansberg, Baltimore, Md., an alligator. Mr. F. B. Travis, Washington, PD. C., a common rabbit. Master Horace Wadsworth, Washington, D. C., a love bird. Mrs. L. P. Wadsworth, Washington, D. C., two alligators. Mr. George A. Wise, Washington, D. C., a woodchuck. Mr. Thomas Zipp, Baltimore, Md., seven copperhead snakes. United States Bureau of Fisheries, two elephant seals and four northern fur seals. The Janitor, Balfour Apt., Washington, D. C., a sparrow hawk. Unknown donors, a barn owl and two alligators. LOSSES OF ANIMALS. The most important losses were a lion, wolverine, reindeer, and two northern fur seals from enteritis; a pair of elephant seals and a fur seal from pneumonia; four prong-horn antelopes from malignant catarrh of nose and throat, and an Alaskan brown bear and a springbok from tuberculosis. A female tiger was killed because of abnormal development of its shoulder. Quail disease was introduced through a shipment of birds from the West, but was isolated so that very little loss was occasioned. Dead animals to the number of 199 specimens were transferred to the National Museum. Autopsies were made as formerly by the Pathological Division of the Bureau of Animal Industry, Department of Agriculture.t 1 The causes of death were reported to be as follows: Enteritis, 24; gastritis, 4; gastro-enteritis, 9; enteritis from round worms, 4; intestinal coccidiosis, 4; quail disease, ‘SOLLY SOUANA “UO paRe) [RVVL6O[O0Z7 pedrorunyy oy Ti I] PoAt IY “MYVd IWOIDO1O0Z IWNOILVN SHL NI YldV i NVOIYSWY ‘| aLlvid "MYVd IWOIDO1IOOZ IWNOILVN SHL NI dOHS ANIHOVI GNV¥Y 3SNOH YaTIOG ANOLS MAN ‘coh ’ + wo . “G sALVi1d ‘poday s,Aiejai99g —*71 6 | ‘Hoday uelUosyyiWS REPORT OF THE SECRETARY. Tt STATEMENT OF THE COLLECTION. ACCESSIONS DURING THE YEAR, DENTECVN a Bey Opp eR a A aR A de 50 Received: from Yellowstone) National’ Park 2225 oto0 32022 ees at 8 FR CCOLV COs silhe CXC ME TOC HE aa eel Bee a ee EN ee eee ae os TD TB Tee eis ee ce ree NP pa oe Oe eda ed sa eB ee eR oe ES 35 MRT NTS ES Sh hee ose ea oek e S ie Se a S et 234 BOEneing shiatcnedeimmNstion a) 7oolo@ical, Paris = 25.0 = fo oe _ 108 BENG Gry Se PR YS re ae See Sa Re ees aS EE 510 SUMMARY. ATTIC TIS: Olan amele abl yet A OU ee ae a ae ee ee 1, 414 CCE SS LOMS ee CUNTST TT OB NTC VENT oe SE ee ee Sh St 510 TEESE Oa eR RI A LAN a A a ei ah 1, 924 Deduct loss (by exchange, death, and returning of animals) —~--________ ote (Oyiptien GeckeiMe Os MOM yaa Bae cae SS Saree et ee ee es Se ile data Class. Species. wai. IMEITIAIS 5a ee ae demonstrated that by a similar process we could obtain evidence concerning the rotation of certain stars about their centers. An attempt with encouraging results has already been made as to the latter problem at the Allegheny Obsery- atory. 1 Monthly Notices, May, 1911. 2 The Observatory, September, 1911. 3 Session of the Royal Astronomical Society, Jan. 25, 1911. 4 The Observatory, vol. 24, p. 202. 6 Monthly Notices, vol. 72, p. 378. PROGRESS IN ASTRONOMY—PUISEUX. Se The probability of a collision sometime in the globular clusters seems especially great. They are considered, with good reason, among the most curious objects in the heavens. If we suppose that the closeness of the stars in these clusters depends on the distances of the stars from the centers of the clusters, then we may get their real distances from their apparent distances. H.C. Plummer ' did so for M 13 ? and found groupings which would have been predicted by the theory of gases in convective and isothermal equilibrium. This is one more fact to make us believe that in clusters as well as in the nebule the force of gravitation is absent or held in check by some repulsive force. We indeed go yet further and ask whether the law of Newton is always applicable among the stars relatively near for which we have been able to measure the parallaxes and proper motions. We possess decided evidence in favor of the affirmative from binary stars, in the fact that their proper motions follow directions more often par- allel to the galaxy than perpendicular. But there are also motives for doubt. W. W. Campbell, by means of his valuable catalogue of the radial velocities of stars, has shown that the Orion spectrum type is always associated with small velocities. This suggestion, resulting from no preconceived idea, quickly underwent broader developments. It has consequently become of philosophical interest. _We seem to have gained now in the old system of classifying the stars, which was founded upon increasing complexity in their spectra, at the same time an ascending scale for their velocities and a descending one for their masses and distances from the sun. Of course there are often individual exceptions, and the above rules apply only when the stars are averaged in groups. The consequences of these generalizations have been skilfully followed out by J. Halm.* It was an advance to be able to use as criteria for a classification the masses and velocities, rather than the ages, temperatures, or spectrum types. The first two properties are more fundamental and more apt to enter into our formule. The existence of a correlation between the masses and the velocities is even more worthy of remark. It makes us wonder whether there is an equipartition of energy between the groups of stars just as there is between the molecules of a gas in equilibrium. Such a state would not have resulted under the influence of a Newtonian field of force including all the stars. Such movements are rather the final consequence of an initial velocity varying widely between neighboring stars. [urther, the predominance of yellow stars near our sun and of white stars farther away, the existence of an ellipsoidal distribution of the trajectories in the central part of our universe, establishes 1Monthly Notices, vol. 71,p.460. 2 Monthly Notices, vol.72,p.378. 4 Monthly Notices, vol. 71, p. 610. 138 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. between the milky way and the great spiral nebule a singularly closer analogy than we had felt warranted in supposing until quite recently. The new star discovered December 30, 1910, in the constellation of the Lizard, has followed its predicted career, fading rather slowly. It becomes more and more certain that temporary stars, even when they show the ruddy aspect of certain periodic variables, show less difference between the visual and photographic magnitudes. The polar star often used as a standard for photometric compari- sons because it remains constantly at practically the same altitude, seems to have abdicated that réle and passed into the ranks of the variable stars. In order to show its variability, Hertzsprung * went through the discussion of 418 photographs, each having four exposures. The variation amounts to 0.2 of a magnitude and takes place in less than four days. itt The step from variable stars to the sun is very easy. It is espe- cially so because of the recent work of C. G. Abbot.2 Measures upon the intensity of the solar radiation made simultaneously on Mount Wilson (1,800 meters altitude) and on Mount Whitney (4,420 meters) gave very concordant results and the parallel march of the numbers places beyond doubt a very decided variability of the sun which may amount to a tenth of the total radiation within a few days. The work of Abbot tends also to show that the precision with which we may state the temperature of the sun has been exaggerated. There are in the sun sources of heat from 5,000° up to some 7,000°. How- ever, the higher temperatures predominate. The infra-red radiation comes from the deeper layers. Some years ago the researches of Halm appeared to indicate that the rate of rotation of the sun, varying as we knew with the solar latitude, varies also synchronously with the sun-spot cycle. The investigation of this matter remains upon the program of the Edin- burgh Observatory. But between the results obtained by Storey and those by Adams at Mount Wilson there is a systematic difference. It might be suspected that with one or the other the distance of the slit of the spectroscope from the edge of the sun was not correctly deter- mined. Or the cause of the discrepancy may lie in the telluric oxygen lines used for comparisons. The established but not absolutely regular correlation which exists between magnetic disturbances and the appearance of sun spots seems to have been made decidedly clearer by the researches of Bosler, of the — 1 Astronomische Nachrichten, No. 4518. 2? Report of the Astrophysical Observatory of the Smithsonian Institution. PROGRESS IN ASTRONOMY—PUISEUX. 139 observatory at Meudon. Bosler has succeeded in proving that in each locality there is a definite direction not only for the earth cur- rent but also for the disturbed magnetic field and this takes place as if due to the direct action of a current upon a magnetized needle. Another result of the same research was to show yet more clearly that the years when the sun spots have been the most numerous have been those when Encke’s comet has been the most brilliant. The total solar eclipse of April 28, 1911, was observed by several expeditions sent for that purpose to Vavau of the Tonga Islands. The weather was unfavorable. We must mention in passing one new result, the photograph taken by Father Cortie of the extreme red end of the bright line spectrum. The army of minor planets continues to grow. The most inter- esting without doubt was that observed on October 3 and 4 atVienna and Copenhagen and designated by the letters MT. Its motion deter- mined at that time indicated that its distance was as small as that of Eros. But it could not be found again on subsequent days. We are forced to believe that its brightness varies rapidly and that it was visible on the earlier dates because of an exceptional temporary brightness. Birkland, while trying to reproduce the solar corona by means of the luminous phenomena about an electrified sphere, got a very close representation of the ring system of Saturn. He was thus led to pro- pose a new theory of those singular objects. Particles of radiant matter, emitted from Saturn, reach a certain distance, make their revolutions according to the third law of Kepler, and serve as absorb- ers and resonators for the luminous energy coming from the sun. The flattening of the planet Mars and the orientation in space of its axis of rotation rested until recently upon very discordant data from the micrometer. H. Struve, in a communication to the Berlin Acad- emy of Sciences (Nov. 30, 1911), showed that by a very laborious but surer process depending on the variations in the orbits of its satellites, he had reached much better values. The best series was furnished by the powerful instruments of the Lick and the Yerkes Observa- tories. A very useful series of photographs of the satellites was ob- tained at the observatory at Pulkova by Kostinsky. The figure 190.4 for the reciprocal of the flattening and 202.7 for the ratio of the force of gravity to the centrifugal force at the equator will doubtless receive only insignificant changes. The topography of the moon will now have a more solid basis as the result of the catalogue of 2,885 objects published by Saunder and based upon measures of plates taken at the Paris and the Yerkes Observatories. It is already in use at the Paris Observatory in a study of the libration of the moon. The uncertainty of a position derived from three plates appears to be less than 0.15’... On our own 140 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. globe there are many extended regions which have no points so accu- rately determined. The year 1911 saw paibiliol od the tables of the moon based upon the theory of Delaunay and forming volume 7 of the Annales du Bureau des Longitudes. An introduction of 112 pages, where not a line is superfluous, allows us to form an idea of the mangitude of the task. Delaunay, Tisserand, and R. Radau have successively given to the task the last years of their lives and were assisted by Schulhof. An analogous undertaking was carried out in America by Prof. E. Brown; the French astronomers by finishing first have honorably maintained the tradition established by Laplace and Le Verrier. All the errors, although very small, known in the works of Hansen and Delaunay, have been corrected. But it was impossible to break away from all empiricism and there remains an inequality of long period (273 years) discovered by Newcomb. Newcomb gave up trying to find an expla- nation. More optimistic, R. Radau believes the cause can be found in cosmic dust and the infra-mercurial planets. A new determination of the parallax of the moon, due to the collabo- ration of the Cape and the Greenwich Observatories has been carried out after six years of work.t. The value generally used was confirmed. IT. The result, at first sight rather small, of a considerable effort, is not to be understood as minimizing the desire often expressed of substi- tuting for the classic method of charting the sky more rapid and more accurate methods. What is aimed at everywhere is the suppression of the measures of moderately large angles by the readings of divided circles. More confidence is placed in measures of time intervals and the extension of such a method is to be expected. W. E. Cooke proposed, for the determination of right ascensions, not to use a meridian circle but rather a telescope whose optic axis when rotated about a vertical axis intersects in the heavens a small circle parallel to the horizon. We could by such means divide the celestial equator, or any parallel circle with an accuracy comparable with the precision of our best clocks. The declination of the stars would be determined from the times when they reached a determined altitude. The axis of the telescope must therefore be maintained at a constant altitude. At various times the realization of this condi- tion has been attempted with telescopes on floating mounts. Cooke places faith in a vertical axis and level. Among the disadvantages of the meridian instrument is the neces- sity that each celestial point has to be separately determined and that great intervals can not be measured as accurately as small ones. 1 Session of the Royal Astronomical Society, May 12, 1911. - PROGRESS IN ASTRONOMY—PUISEUX. 141 That photography can deal with small intervals with rapidity and great accuracy has been repeatedly shown. But it is desired to free the photographic plate from any dependency upon the merid- ian circle. H. H. Turner? has devised a very complete scheme. He proposes to’ gather, on the same plate, images of very distant portions of the sky, and believes he can register with the necessary precision the beginning of each exposure. The plan of Turner in- cludes the use of two photographic telescopes mounted at right angles to each other in the equator and adjusted with a prismatic mirror. The project has received the approbation of the Astronom- ical and Astrophysical Society of America.? But these methods have not received such emphatic approval everywhere. Before the Royal Astronomical Society Sir David Gill, Sir William Christie, and A. E. Conrady showed numerous reasons for fearing errors in the use of the new methods. According to them, the status of the meridian circle in fundamental astronomy is not yet in any way undermined. In the past rival processes, even when recommended by illustrious names, have not realized the hopes of their promotors. Such was the case with the zenith telescope, or the alt-azimuth as introduced at Greenwich by Airy and the floating telescope in the hands of Chandler, Sampson, and Bryan Cookson. But it is true that photography introduces a new element into the problem and the experiments now in progress at Oxford deserve attention. The resources of the photographic method will be yet greater when it is possible to utilize a greater field upon a single plate without the deformation of the images near the edges. Theoretically, curved plates could be employed which would comport better with the focal surfaces of the objectives. Such an attempt was made some 20 years ago at the beginning of the Celestial Chart project. It was not con- tinued in use because such curved plates were not adapted to the micrometrical measuring machines. The difficulty has been over- come as the result of recent experiments at the Harvard College Observatory. The sensitive plate serves as the cover of a metallic box, from which the air may be removed. The atmospheric pressure upon the plate produces the desired curvature. When the air has been reintroduced, after the exposure, the plate losses its curvature and is developed and measured without difficulty. A conference was held in Paris in October, 1911, by the representa- tives of all the great nations which publish official ephemerides (France, Germany, the United Kingdom, the United States of Amer- ica). The resolutions unanimously adopted after very amicable dis- cussions will introduce important economies in efforts, which up to } Monthly Notices, vol. 71, pp. 422, 427. 2 The Observatory, vol. 34, p. 233. 142 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. the present time have been duplicated. The positions of the planets will be determined only by two independent systems of tables. Greenwich time will be universally used for the ephemerides and unity will be observed for the more important constants (solar paral- lax, precession, nutation, aberration). The campaign actively pushed during recent years for carrying the aberration constant from 20.47’ up to 20.53’” can be considered as having failed. The latter figure is irreconcilable with the solar parallax obtained from the general discussion of the Eros observations. THE SPIRAL NEBULA. ? By P. Putsrvux, Member of the Academy of Sciences, Professor at the Sorbonne, Astronomer at the Paris Observatory. The people whom we claim as our direct intellectual ancestors wished to find nothing in the sky but spherical forms and circular movements. The Greeks, lovers of an exact geometry, the Latins, enamored of order and logic, took pleasure in simple combinations. They would not willingly admit into the celestial throng clouds of indefinite and complicated form. Such indefinite forms must belong to the sublunar world. Comets, with their hairy aspect, passed as meteors, taking their birth and vanishing within our atmosphere. In the Milky Way some saw an accidental derogation of the uni- versal order or the trace of an imperfect joiming of the two halves of the celestial sphere. Others guessed it to be a mass of number- less stars, too small and too distant to be separately seen. There was no need, indeed no possibilty, of searching further. To those whom the idea of something beyond troubled, the existence of an empyrean was conceded, a luminous region situated beyond the stars, to which only those had access whose souls had become freed from the bonds of flesh. But astronomy, no more than the other physical sciences, has kept within the bonds with which she was fettered in the name of philosophy. No sooner was the telescope invented than several observers used it to explore the sky. Then, as had been foreseen, the Milky Way was resolved almost entirely into separate luminous points. But, it is true, there were found a few refractory places, where the diffused whiteness persisted in filling the field of the tele- scope. Even outside the limits of the Milky Way, several such masses, more or less perceptible to the naked eye, refused to be decomposed. Simon Marius, in 1612, noted the great nebula of Andromeda, which suggested to him the comparison, somewhat trivial yet suggestive, of the flame of a candle seen through horn. This pale glow, watched for many years, seems to rest absolutely sion from Revue Scientifique, Paris, Apr. 6, 1912, pp. 417-422. 143 144 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. unchanged when compared with the adjacent stars. It is therefore neither a planet nor a meteor. It belongs to our sun no more than to the earth. Accordingly, if we admit the Copernican theory, we must attribute to this nebula colossal dimensions, far exceeding the distance which separates the earth from the sun. Nor is the nebula of Andromeda an isolated case. Christian Huy- gens made a drawing in 1656 of a nebula in the constellation of Orion, a more brilliant and more extended object the outlines of which he found very difficult to trace. On one side only was it sharply de- fined against the adjacent sky. Elsewhere it faded into indistinguish- able nebulosity. Does it not seem, mused Huygens, as if here we are looking upon a new world, perhaps upon the legendary empyrean ? This feeble veil scarcely alters the aspect of the stars which shine through it or are projected upon it. This somewhat summary sketch of Huygens was only vaguely con- firmed by those of Picard and of Legentil who came several years later. The only common trait, indeed, was the dark gulf which hollows out, the central part. No part of it seemed sufficiently definite for the detection of possible changes. During the eighteenth century the number of known nebuls in- creased slowly. Several, upon closer examination, proved to be clus- ters of small stars. Those whose aspect remained flocculent, despite al] efforts to resolve them, often deceived the comet seekers, who, after verification, saw their cherished hope of making the discovery of a new planetoid disappear. Messier, more than once thus caught, undertook to remove this cause of trouble and in 1784 published a catalogue of these objects, containing nearly all the nebule easily seen above the horizon at the latitude of Paris. At the same time a great advance was made in England in the means of observation. The musician, W. Herschel, succeeded during his leisure hours in figuring and mounting telescope mirrors much greater and much more perfect than had ever been made before. In the field of these instruments nebule appeared in an absolutely unexpected profusion. Thus there arose a new branch of astronomy to be de- veloped. Herschel set to work, aided by his sister Caroline, and with remarkable perseverence, at the same time pursuing other researches, catalogued, from 1786 to 1802, some 2,500 nebule. Many of these, upon closer examination, were resolved into stars. W. Herschel was led to believe that all could be so resolved and that any one of these scarcely visible flocculent specks would, to an observer properly situated, appear like a stellar universe as rich as that which surrounds us and which is evident to our eyes through the milky way. The work of W. Herschel was completed for the Southern Hemi- sphere by his son John, who transported in 1834 to the Cape of Good Hope one of the best telescopes constructed at Slough by his father. SPIRAL NEBULA:—PUISEUX. 145 Under a sky more transparent than that of England the harvest was yet richer and the general summary published in 1864 gave the positions of 5,079 of these objects. Very few nebule found later worthy of interest escaped the eyes of the Herschels. No thought was taken at that time as to what could be the origin of these curious objects. Their vague aspect gave little faith in their permanency. At one time the hope was held that they might rapidly change before our eyes. Laplace, after meditating upon the spheri- cal or flattened figures of the planets, upon the existence of the ring system of Saturn, upon the close coincidence of the planes of the equators and the orbits of the planets, became convinced that the sun and the planets must have once been parts of the same large, very diffuse cloud. We might then expect the history of the solar system to repeat itself among the many other nebulous clouds in the realms of space. What would be more natural than to see among the nebule successive stages in this evolution from such clouds, the material of suns and planets of the future. And, accordingly, he devised that celebrated hypothesis which has since been the cause of so many polemics. For the convenience of reasoning, Laplace gave to his primitive cloud a figure of revolution, a general rotation about an axis and a density decreasing regularly from the center outward. Upon all these points the great mathematician showed no spirit of intolerance, and would have willingly consented to improvements. But it was much later that objections were raised. The assiduous observers of nebule found that these objects were mostly of a much less simple structure. This was shown first by the principal nebula of Orion, which was selected because of its extent and brightness. Within the same limits where Huygens drew a uniformly bright surface, astronomers provided with better telescopes found strong contrasts of light and shade, filaments and entangled jets, indications of physical connection between this cosmic cloud and numerous stars. All these points are revealed in the beautiful draw- ings left by J. Herschel, De Vico, W. Bond, Lassell, G. Bond, and Lord Rosse. The divergencies, often striking, may be interpreted through the marvellous plates taken by Prof. Ritchey at the Yerkes Observatory and at Mount Wilson. The same features are not shown by the various artists and by the chemical processes. Even photo- graphic plates have their “‘personalities”’ as well as artists. How- ever, we have the right to hope that the plates are more impartial in the features which they reproduce. The long exposures employed often destroy the details easily recognized by the eye in the central and brighter parts. But for the reproduction of the faint and more extended portions the superiority of the plates is unquestioned. 146 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. To sum up, the great nebula of Orion is a very complicated object, very rebellious against graphical representation by which means we had hoped to show by a comparison of drawings what changes may have taken place during the course of a century. The early drawings have in this respect very little value and the elaborate discussion which Holden based upon the sketches of Bond has not in general been found convincing. This nebula departs too far from a globular form or rather from a figure of rotation to be taken as giving support to the Laplacian hypothesis. No one could trace in it a prelude to the formation of a narrow and regular ring surrounding a larger central body. Several annular nebule were noted by W. Herschel, but among them not one had a nucleus of any importance. If we must find in the sidereal universe a picture of what took place in our system, then we would have greater hope of finding it among the planetary nebule. In the smaller telescopes they appear as small round, somewhat brilliant, diffused spots, but in stronger instruments like bright stars embedded in dense atmospheres. But such systems were too small and too distant to tell us much of the details of their structure before spectroscopic methods were developed. Such was the condition of affairs when Lord Rossa; in 1850, showed the existence of a distinct series of nebule, having besides ie cen- tral nucleus several successive envelopes. But these envelopes, instead of being separate and concentric, as the advocates of Laplace’s hypothesis would have expected, were spiral in form. They showed streamers, growing progressively larger, at first in the direction of the radius, then curved around all in the same sense. No theory had predicted such an appearance. The instrument used by Lord Rosse and made under his direction was a gigantic telescope, 6 feet in aperture, a size not since surpassed despite many courageous attempts. Judging from drawings, it could have been used only near the meridian. Nor was sufficient protec- tion provided against the weather, either for the observer or the mirror. The necessary access to the upper part of the tube was possible only by the use of heavy and complicated machinery. Such a piece of apparatus required the assiduous and careful maneu- vering of several assistants. Official astronomers, with strict limita- tions and limited means, could obtain such cooperation only with great trouble and for very little time. Is it necessary to seek further for the reason why the great instruments of Lord Rosse and the Herschels, despite their great services, had such a short career and were used only by their makers ? SPIRAL NEBULH—PUISEUX. 147 The object which first seemed to offer to Lord Rosse an unusual character is numbered 51 in Messier’s catalogue. It is to-day con- sidered the most typical and the most curious of the spiral nebule. If we examine how Lord Rosse drew it in 1850, we will find that the rays do not come out from the nucleus in all directions but normally and only from two diametrically opposite regions. The curvature, pronounced at the start, decreases later but irregularly. One of the spirals departing further from the center terminates in a secondary bright nucleus. The principal spiral continues its path undisturbed and completes at least a turn and a half before fading away. The appearance of these structures, so fine, so geometrical, so prolonged, gives the impression of a rapid whirling movement. Long afterwards, in 1878, Lord Rosse returned to this same object. The general appearance remained the same, but the number of fila- ments, their fineness and regularity of curvature seemed much decreased. After mature examination, it appeared that the early appearance had been judged too geometrical just as seems to be the case with the canals of Mars. It looked as if now the principal spiral expands into the secondary nucleus. Again, looking at the same object as photographed by Keeler at the Lick Observatory, it is evident that the second drawing of Lord Rosse is the more faithful. But other important details are brought to light. The junction of the two principal spirals with the main nucleus is no longer radial but tangential. By their evident discon- tinuity we are led to strongly doubt that they can be considered as trajectories. Various points of the two spirals are the origin of inde- pendent rays, each curved in the same sense as the main spiral but with entirely different initial directions. At the starting points of the secondary rays we always find astar, or if we look closer, a group of stars. Upon a plate of the same nebula, taken by Dr. Isaac Roberts, 180 condensations were counted on the lines of the spirals. It is evidently well in the presence of such immensely vast objects, so different from any that we have at hand for experiments, to build as much as possible on firm structural groundwork, neglecting no evidence concerning their form, their structure, or distribution in space. Thus armed, we may approach with less danger their life history and seek to know how these strange organisms are born and how they grow. First, what can be stated as to the distribution of the spiral nebule, for instance with regard to that most natural plane of reference, the mean plane of the milky way ? If we consider nebule irrespective of class, we can state on this score a well-defined law. These objects show, as to their direction 148 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. from the earth, and doubtless also as to their absolute position in space, a marked antipathy to the plane of the milky way, the galactic plane. This fact was noticed long ago by the philosopher and sociologist, Herbert Spencer. It is shown by the often-published figure con- structed by Proctor. The principal catalogued nebule are indicated by so many points. The white spot near the south pole corresponds to the Magellanic Clouds, a small region where nebule and clusters abound. A place of similar nature, though less important, lies in the northern hemisphere close to the milky way. Apart from these two exceptions, the milky way traverses, throughout nearly all its whole extent, regions poor in nebule which cluster chiefly near the north pole of the milky way. But is this law of distribution the same for the spiral nebule? For some years it was generally admitted that it was not, that the spirals were irregularly distributed as regards the milky way. We might therefore treat them as strangers and keeping in mind their circumvolutions, bifurcations, gaps and the fact that they inclose so many stars and clusters of stars, consider each one as an independent milky way. To-day that conclusion does not seem so assured since Keeler has pointed out that many of the faint nebule, showing to the naked eye no trace of a central nucleus or spiral structure, reveal on long- exposure photographs both these characteristics. Now we are begin- ning to ask whether the greater number of nebule are not spiral and whether statistics, including all of them, would not show that the great majority of these objects are related to the milky way. A pho- tographic exploration of the entire sky with a powerful instrument is necessary to solve this problem. Apart from their structure, which too often escapes us, is there no other easily determinable characteristic which may serve to classify the nebule? Could we not, for example, group them, as we have the stars, according to the richness of their spectra in absorption lines ? Huggens, trying to do this, noted that they readily fall into two classes. One shows a spectrum composed of bright lines like that of a gas made luminous electrically. These are often called the green nebule because the greater part of their light is concentrated in a bright green line in their spectrum which has never been identified with any known terrestrial element. Provisionally it is considered as an indication of an unknown element which has been named nebulium. Of the four lines to which the spectrum of a nebula of this class is usually limited, the third in order of intensity is the only one upon whose origin we are agreed. It belongs to the spectrum of hydrogen. SPIRAL NEBULE—PUISEUX. 149 A moderate dispersion may be used with this class without weaken- ing the lines of the spectrum too much. Keeler showed that the brightest line does not occupy exactly the same position in all the green nebule. Naturally, these small differences are interpreted as a sign of radial velocities. The 14 nebule for which satisfactory results have been obtained give for the radial component figures ranging from 18 to —64 kilometers per second. There is a predominance of nega- tive values, evidently not because the green nebule show a tendency to approach us, but because the greater part of them which may be easily observed are situated nearer the constellation Hercules toward which our sun is moving, carrying us along with him. Contrary to what is true of the nebulz in general, the majority of the green nebulze lie in the milky way. The existence of these gaseous bodies, owing their light to a more or less extended mass of gas, has been considered as furnishing the experimental basis formerly lacking for the Lapla- cian hypothesis. Interesting as these results are, we will not dwell upon them as they take us away from our subject. Indeed, of all the nebulae whose spiral structure is beyond doubt, not one belongs in the class just described. Not one is adapted to the determination of its radial velocity. All of them, as well as the great majority of the faint nebule without definite form, shine with a white light which the prism transforms into an apparently continuous spectrum. This spectrum is too faint for the detection of absorption bands. However, there is some justice in calling it purely stellar. The white nebule owe the greater part of their light to the stars which are clustered within them. As to the great nebula of Andromeda, which is the brightest of the spiral nebule, we may add that the majority of the stars of its central portion are of the solar type. The contribution of the spectroscope to the study of the spiral nebulee is on the whole somewhat restricted. The services rendered by photography are, on the other hand, inestimable. The great part taken by this method of study dates from the invention of the sensitive bromo-gelatin plates. The green or gaseous nebule, whose light more strongly affects the photographic plate, brought the first success. The photographs of Paul and Prosper Henry, of Isaac Roberts, and of Keeler early showed evidence of a physical relationship between the stars and the nebule, even in the case of the gaseous nebule. This connection is yet closer in the spiral nebule, of which we will now speak exclusively. About the year 1900 they were looked upon as rare and scattered objects. Keeler undertook to form a collection of the most remark- able nebulous objects and was led to the two following unexpected conclusions: First, many nebule formerly classed as globular, annular, 85360°—sm 1912——11 150 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. or fusiform show the spiral form on plates taken with special care; second, all exposures sufficiently long to photograph one of these objects lead to the discovery of many other similar objects. The number of spirals is much greater than had been supposed, and they may include the majority of the nebule. These results were obtained on Mount Hamilton, Cal., where a rich American, James Lick, has founded the observatory which bears his name. No astronomer can visit this model observatory without envy and admiration. The order in which we take up the objects in the rich collection of Keeler may evidently be open to criticism until an accord is established upon a definite theory. Noone, surely, would suppose that the nebule have always existed just as they are or that they have acquired a finalshape. We must look upon them as still in the process of change. The question we will for the moment consider is whether they are in the process of condensation or expansion; whether the spirals are flowing out from or into the center. Before forming a too hasty decision, let us first examine the larger, more massive nebule, where the spirals are small and unimportant in comparison with the central nucleus. Afterwards we will con- sider the more dilated ones, where the greater part of the matter seems dispersed into the spirals. Then we will consider in which direction it is easier to suppose the transition. In each class we shall place in the first rank those which have the most nearly circular appearance; that is, those whose plane is normal to our line of sight and which will enable us to interpret better the other nebule seen at less favorable angles or even edgewise. Having completed that task, we needs must ask of what are the spiral nebule formed; in what way are they changing? Could we answer these two questions, then we would ask two others still more ambitious. How were the spiral nebule formed, and what will be their end? But such questions may for a long while yet be prema- ture, and I believe I thus voice the opinion of our master, Poincaré, if I rightly interpret the conclusion stated in his recent book on cosmic hypotheses. It seems to me that the elements of the spiral nebule can be nought else than collections of groups of stars, whence comes the abundance of the luminous points scattered in the outer portions of the spirals where they can be separately seen. A cosmic cloud formed of sub- tler elements could never show such sharp outlines, nor reveal such clear-cut divisions. The continuous spectra must lead us to sup- pose that even in the central portions stars predominate, enveloped, if you will, in a common atmosphere which diffuses their light. Some might argue that if the spirals are formed of stars they would be brighter. I do not see that necessity. The distance of the if ee va ——_ SPIRAL NEBULE—PUISEUX. 151 spirals is immense, much greater than that of the mean distance of the naked-eye stars, because all the visible stars inclosed in the spirals are telescopic. The light of such stars reaches us weakened by their enormous distances and doubtless by an intersteller absorbing medium. When we consider the great number of the stars embedded in a nebula like that of Ursa Major (M101), or that of Andromeda, it seems as if we rather minimize their importance either in using these nebulz to construct a solar system or by regarding them as the result of some very improbable accidental collision. A single nebula is, in my opinion, capable of giving birth to many stars, indeed, to many clusters. By the range in their development, the variety of their structure, the great spirals are comparable ea exaggerations to the milly way itself. I believe that we should not derive from our latoat studies the theories of Chamberlain and Moulton or of Prof. Arrhenius, all three of whom interpret the spirals as due to a collision of two stars. Mr. T. J. J. See has raised very strong objections against such theories in his recent work, ‘“‘The Evolution of Stellar Systems,” a book full of erudition and ingenious views, but one whose uncompromising dog- matism must arouse opposition. According to Mr. See, we must not present an explanation to our learned public as possible, but as absolutely necessary. Is the stellar cosmogony of Mr. See, for he has one of his own, truly one of those to which we must subscribe without discussion and hold as definitive? He makes a spiral have its birth in the meeting of two clouds of very elongated form which move through space with different velocities and become deformed before uniting under the influence of their mutual attraction. Each spiral marks the influx toward the common. center of one of the original clouds. I fear that such an explanation would be satisfactory only to readers but little acquainted with the objects themselves. It is not merely two concurrent spirals which we must explain, but often four or five. And when we consider the parsimonious scattering of matter through space, it is truly difficult to admit that upon the path of the deflecting current there will appear first isolated stars, then clusters of stars more and more numerous and more and more dense as we approach the place of conjunction. I do not see whence will be gathered the matter for these suns if there is no central condensa- tion, which, according to See, would not yet have been formed. To me the movement in spirals must be centrifugal and dispersive. The central mass shoots out intermittently groups of stars, giving them a great initial velocity, but the impulsive force acts only for a short dis- tance. The final movement of the liberated stars is governed by the 152 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. general attraction, except in the neighborhood of certain points of the spirals which have in turn become centers of disturbances. The spirals, essentially irregular in their sections and projections, are neither currents nor trajectories. The axis of each one is a synchronous curve of the places which at any given instant are occu- pied by the products of a prolonged and intermittent eruption. The latter are continually evolved in the same central mass which slowly turns upon itself. The spirals therefore tend to become, with increas- ing distances, normal to the radius. The general motions of the matter in this class of nebule thus conform to the stellar currents of our own milky way if we adopt the views expressed by Schwarz- schild. THE RADIATION OF THE SUN. By C. G. Assor,} Director of the Astrophysical Observatory of the Smithsonian Institution. [With 4 plates.] The sun presents many interesting aspects. Although controller of the solar system, an object rich with beautiful and curious features, the nearest of the fixed stars, and typical of a large class among them, the sun also has a still greater claim on human interest as the foun- tain of heat, light, and life upon the earth. It is this latter aspect which we shall consider mainly, still further confining our attention almost wholly to work done under the auspices of the Smithsonian Institution. When James Smithson died in Genoa in 1829 he left his estate, subject to certain conditions, ‘‘to the United States of America, to found at Washington, under the name of the Smithsonian Institution, an Establishment for the increase & diffusion of knowledge among men.’ On May 9, 1838, by decree of the English Court of Chancery, the Smithson bequest, amounting to about $500,000, was adjudged to the United States. By the act of establishment in 1846 the con- trol of the Smithsonian Institution is vested by Congress in a Board of Regents, comprising the Vice President and the Chief Justice of the United States, three Senators, three Representatives, and six private citizens. In the years that have elapsed the Smithsonian private funds have increased by gifts and economy to nearly $1,000,000. For many years the institution has administered the annual con- gressional appropriations for the support of the National Museum, National Zoological Park, Bureau of American Ethnology, Astro- physical Observatory, Bureau of International Exchanges, and ‘International Catalogue of Scientific Literature. The immediate administration is in the hands of the secretary of the Board of Regents, at present Dr. C. D. Walcott, the fourth of the secretaries. Dr. S. P. Langley, the third secretary, a distinguished American astronomer, founded in 1890 the Astrophysical Observatory of the 1 Reprinted with revision and addition from Science Conspectus, Boston, vol. 2, No. 5, April, 1912, Tllustrations in part from ‘‘The Sun,” by permission of D. Appleton & Co. 185 i) 154 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Smithsonian Institution, and was its director until his death in 1906. His own principal investigations, and those of the Astrophysical Observatory begun under his direction and still continued, have lain in the field of measuring the quantity and quality of the sun’s radia- tion, the effect of the earth’s atmosphere thereon, and the dependence of terrestrial temperatures and plant life on solar radiation. This is a utilitarian branch of astronomy, whose applications to terrestrial concerns may be expected to increase in future years and result in the promotion of the arts of meteorology and agriculture. But the interest of such studies for the promotion of pure knowledge is also very high. Let us imagine that the Greek philosophers, the Ara- bians, and the astronomers of Galileo’s time, had all possessed the means to measure accurately the quantity and quality of solar radia- tion. How interesting it would be now to compare their measure- ments with our own, and determine thereby what, if any, appreciable changes have occurred in 2,500 years in that energy which supports heat and life upon the earth! The astronomer of the future will have, we hope, trustworthy measurements of our own time to compare with his own. Referring to another branch of the measurements which I am to bring before you, our knowledge of the approximate temperatures prevailing in the sun, and our conclusions as to the sun’s nature rest on such work as is being done at the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory. By the term solar radiation, I propose to your minds not only the solar rays which affect our eyes as light, but the extensions of the spectrum beyond the violet and beyond the red, where the eye is not sensitive. All these rays, whether visible or not, may be absorbed by blackened surfaces and will thus produce their just and propor- tional effects as heat. For the measurement of solar radiation, Langley, about 1880, mvented the delicate electrical thermometer shown in plate 2, which he called the bolometer; figure 8 of plate 2 shows its most important part. This is a pair of tapes of platinum, each about 1 centimeter long, 0.01 centimeter broad, and 0.002 centimeter thick. These tapes are blackened with camphor smoke or by a deposit of platmum black. One is exposed in the path of the rays to be measured, and the other is hidden. Hence one tape is warmed with respect to the other. Thereby a minute electrical current is caused to flow through the delicate galvanometer con- nected with the Wheatstone’s bridge, of which the tapes form two arms. In this way a change of temperature, which may be as small as one-millionth degree Centigrade, may be detected in ordinary practice. By special devices the sensitiveness may be increased beyond this one-hundred fold. But though so sensitive the bolo- meter is far behind the eye in its capacity to detect famt yellow light. It is used in preference to the eye because it can detect and “NOILNLILSN| NVINOSHLING SHL 340 AYOLVAYSSEO IVOISAHdOYULSY aL aLvV1d ‘joqqy—'zZ16| ‘Woday ueiuosy}iWS SUOTPOIUMOD [BIIIDITO JO WBISBI “6 ‘rodoad roJOULO[O| IY, “8 “SUOTPOOUMOD PUB TUSTUBIPIUL SBULVUBLR JOSTIRJO(T *L ‘9 ‘@‘p “MOIA PUT “§ “UOTNOS SSOI)) °G “MOLA [VIOUOT) “T “SLONArAY SLI GNV YSLSNO10g SHL "6 BL /rke| yoqqy—'z16| ‘Wodey uriuosy} 155 RADIATION OF THE SUN—ABBOT. *SoAINO 0} IBSIOY 9[qvIINS OATS 07 poonporjzuT wseiyderp suvoy | “MOM PIPVI JO O19Z VATF 0} posodiazUy J0}] NYS SULIT x *JWSIUd SSVID-LNITI (09 V JO WAULOTdS UVIOS AHL IO SHAUN ADYANG OIHAVADOTIO {@—'T “OA 01 a oo “TTVOS AIUSNALNI x 9 U h 6 "5 aves ao (6) d 4 i 3) i HM pier . . 156 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. correctly measure the relative intensities of rays of all wave lengths, whether visible or not. The indications of the bolometer may be automatically observed by photography, and thereby the solar spectrum may be exhibited, as in figure 1, as a sinuous line whose elevation above the base line of zero radiation gives the relative intensity of the different colored or invisible rays. The two curves shown are taken independ- ently about an hour apart, for the purpose of studying the increase of intensity of the sun’s rays of different wave lengths as their path in air diminishes in length in consequence of the approach of Fig. 2.— VERTICAL ATMOSPHERIC TRANSMISSION FOR DIFFERENT WAVE LENGTHS. Upper curve for Mount Wilson; lower curve for Washington. the sun to the meridian. From such studies the results shown in figure 2 are found. The upper curve represents the percentage transmission of a vertical column of air above Mount Wilson (ele- vation 1,750 meters), while the lower curve shows the less transmis- sion for vertical rays at Washington (30 meters). The wave lengths are indicated as abscisse. From this we see how much more loss the violet rays of wave length 0.40, suffer than do the red rays of wave length 0.70” in traversing the air. In order to determine the quantity of the solar radiation, we must fix our conditions independent of the variable losses in the RADIATION OF THE SUN—ABBOT. atmosphere. We attempt, there- fore, to make the observations in such a manner as to permit a correct estimate of the atmos- pheric losses, so that the result can be expressed as if the meas- urements were made in free space beyond the atmosphere. But of course our actual work must be done at the earth’s surface. We express solar radiation in heat units called calories. As the bolometer (pl. 2) is not of itself capable of giving true calories we have devised an instrument shown in figure 3, a standard pyrheli- ometer, so called. A is a cham- ber of nearly the dimensions of a large test tube, whose walls are hol- low and adapted for the circulation of astream of water. The stream enters at E, bathes the walls and rear of the chamber and the cone- shaped receiver of rays H, and passes out at F, carrying the heat developed by solar rays which enter the chamber by the meas- ured orifice C. At D, and D, are platinum coils adapted to measure the rise of temperature of the wa- ter due to solar heating. Know- ing the weight of water flowing per minute, the rise of temperature and the area of the opening C for solar rays, their intensity is deter- mined. As a check, heat may be produced electrically in the cham- ber, and the proof of the accuracy of the instrument consists in find- ing the known quantity of elec- trically introduced heat correctly measured. Another simpler in- strument for everyday use is the silver disk pyrheliometer shown in [andthe by Le PTYTTTIyTIrirrrriity—s = i x ri ESN Od) sh kL Oa Ses BRIBE aAeses WLIIIITITIIIIIIT III Try tt J os q bd | Thy bil) | iP my) | toy IC en a erry ra ee ih | "1 sant ae | #4 iE : Ma f Hie) I rafter Hh tw i} ‘| |: Seen aut } = Be ee 0 eo aw a r. NSH RS i a | Peal fecal LLL 2 nh Fig. 3.—STANDARD WATER-FLOW PYRHELIOMETER. 158 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. figure 4, which may be standardized against the water-flow instru- ment and in which the measurement is made by reading a thermom- eter at stated intervals. In measuring the intensity of solar radiation as it would be outside the earth’s atmosphere at mean solar distance (generally called the solar constant of radiation) it is important to select a station where variability of atmospheric conditions is slight, and where the quantity of air traversed bythe solar rays is small. Owing to smoke and clouds, Washington is a poor locality for the purpose, and so in 1905 an expedition in my charge was sent by invitation of Director Hale, of the Mount Wilson Solar Observatory, to take station on Mount Wilson. Plate 3, figure 1, shows some of the gigantic apparatus erected by Director Hale at that fine site. With this remarkable outfit the work done by the Mount Wilson Solar Observatory staff has been wonder- fully productive. The Smithsonian Ob- servatory on Mount Wilson, a little affair comparatively, is shown in plate 3, figure 2. It was built in 1908 on a small plot of ground leased from the Solar Ob- servatory. A cottage has since been built close by for observers’ quarters. In order to test more thoroughly whether we can indeed truly estimate the losses of solar rays in our atmosphere, work was done in 1909 and 1910 under my charge at Mount Whitney (4,420 meters), the highest mountain in the United fia States. To further Na the work of this and ¥7 __ other scientific expe- ditions the Institu- tionerectedon Mount Whitney in 1909 the stone and steel shelter shown in plate 4, figure 1. My apparatus is shown in plate 4, figure 2. With Mr. Marsh, of Lone Pine, I remained two weeks on the summit in 1909 and again in 1910, and made measurements of the solar constant of radiation there, while my colleagues made similar measurements at Mount Wilson. Fig. 4.—THE SILVER-DISK PYRHELIOMETER. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Abbot PLATE 3. MOUNT WILSON EQUIPMENT. . 1.—The solar observatory of the Carnegie Institution. Fig. 2.—The solar observatory of the Smithsonian Institution. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Abbot PLATE 4. Fia. 2. OBSERVING STATION ON MOUNT WHITNEY. Fig. 1.—Pack train near observers’ quarters. Fig. 2.—Smithsonian outfit of 1910. RADIATION OF THE SUN—ABBOT. 159 - The differences between the results obtained simultaneously at the two stations were between 1 and 2 per cent. But considering that the optical apparatus used on Mount Wilson comprised a silvered glass mirror coelostat, an ultra-violet crown glass prism, and two sil- vered glass mirrors, while that on Mount Whitney comprised only a quartz prism and two magnalium mirrors, and, furthermore, that the pyrheliometers employed at the two stations were read at very differ- ent temperatures, it is probable that the slight difference found between the results may be due mainly to experimental differences and implies no discrepancy due to the difference of altitude between the two stations. This conclusion seems worth emphasizing. We have now made simultaneously solar-constant determinations at sea level (Washing- ton), and at over a mile altitude (Mount Wilson); and again at Mount Wilson, and at nearly 3 miles altitude (Mount Whitney). Although both the quantity and the quality of the solar radiation found at these stations differ very much, neither the ‘solar constant’ nor the distribution of the solar energy in the spectrum outside the atmosphere, as fixed by the wholly independent measurements at these three stations, differs more than would be expected in view of the unavoidable small errors of observation. We seem justified in concluding that we do, in fact, eliminate the effects of atmospheric losses and actually determine the true quantity and quality of the sun’s radiation outside the atmosphere as we might do if we could observe in free space with no atmosphere at all to hinder. Expeditions to Mount Wilson have now been made in 1905, 1906, 1908, 1909, 1910, 1911, and 1912, continuing from May until Novem- ber. In the earlier years the observations were not made daily, but in 1908, 1909, 1910, and 1911 daily determinations of the solar constant were made when possible. I give below a summary of this work up to the end of 1911, and with it also the results obtained at Washington, 1902-1907. Wash- Wile ington. Mount Wilson. 1902-1907 1905 1906 1908 1909 1910 | 1911 Times observed ...-\.-2). 1 Bécher discussed some of the proposed definitions in the Bulletin of the American Mathematical Society, vol. 2 (1904), p. 115. 3 Lietzmann, ‘‘ Der Pythagoreische Lehrsatz,’”’ 1912, p. 52. a. MODERN MATHEMATICAL RESEARCH—MILLER. 191 He added that he had discovered a wonderful proof of this theorem, but that the margin of the page did not afford enough room to add it... This theorem has since become known as Fermat’s greater theo- rem and has a most interesting and important history, which we pro- ceed to sketch. a) About a century after Fermat had noted this theorem, Kuler (1707-1783) proved it for all the cases when n is a multiple of either 3 or 4, and during the following century Dirichlet (1805-1859) and Legendre (1752-1833) proved it for all the cases when n is a multiple of 5. The most important step toward a general proof was taken by Kummer (1810-1893), who applied to this problem the modern theory of algebraic numbers and was thus able to prove its truth for all multiples of primes which do not exceed 100 and also for all the multiples of many larger primes. The fact that such eminent mathematicians as Fermat, Kuler, Dirichlet, Legendre, and Kummer were greatly interested in this problem was sufficient to secure for it considerable prominence in mathematical literature, and several mathematicians, including Dickson, of Chicago, succeeded in extending materially some of the results indicated above. The circle of those taking an active interest in the problem was suddenly greatly enlarged, a few years ago, when it became known that a prize of 100,000 marks (about $25,000) was awaiting the one who could present the first complete solution. This amount was put in trust of the Géttingen Gesellschaft der Wissen- schaften by the will of a deceased German mathematician named Wolfskehl, and it is to remain open for about a century, until 2007, unless some one should successfully solve the problem at an earlier date. It is too early to determine whether the balance of the effects of this prize will tend toward real progress. One desirable feature is the fact that the interest on the money is being used from year to year to further important mathematical enterprises. A certain amount of this has already been given to A. Wieferich for results of importance toward the solution of Fermat’s problem, and other amounts were employed to secure at Géttingen courses of lectures by Poincaré and Lorentz. What appears as a bad effect of this offered prize is the fact that many people with very meager mathematical training and still less ability are wasting their time and money by working out and publish- ing supposed proofs. The number of these is already much beyond 1,000, and no one can foresee the extent to which this kind of literature will grow, especially if the complete solution will not be attained 1 Fermat’s words are as follows: ‘‘Cujus rei demonstrationem mirabilem sane detexi. Hane marginis exiguitas non caperet.’’ ro2 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. during the century. A great part of this waste would be eliminated if those who would like to test their ability along this line could be induced to read, before they offer their work for publication, the dis- cussion of more than 100 supposed proofs whose errors are pointed out in a German mathematical magazine called “Archiv der Mathe- matik und Physik,’ published by B. G. Teubner, of Leipzig. A very useful pamphlet dealing with this question is entitled, ‘Ueber das letzte Fermatische Theorem, von B. Lind,” and was sil published by B. G. Teubner, in 1910. A. possible ae effect of the offered prize is that it may give rise to new developments and to new methods of attack. As the most successful partial solution of the problem was due to the modern theory of algebraic numbers, one would naturally expect that further progress would be most likely to result from a further extension of this theory, or, possibly, from a still more powerful future theory of num- bers. If such extensions will result from this offer they will go far to offset the bad effect noted above, and they may leave a decided surplus of good. Such a standing problem may also tend to lessen mathematical idolatry, which is one of the most serious barriers to real progress. We should welcome everything which tends to elevate the truth above our idols formed by men, institutions, or books. In view of the fact that the offered prize is about $25,000 and that lack of marginal space in his copy of Diophantus was the reason given by Fermat for not communicating his proof, one might be tempted to wish that one could send credit for a dime back thr ough the ages to Fermat and thus secure this coveted prize and the won- derful proof, if it actually existed. This might, however, result more seriously than one would at first suppose; for, if Fermat had bought on credit a dime’s worth of paper even during the year of his death, 1665, and if this bill had been drawing compound interest at the rate of 6 per cent since that time, the bill would now amount to more than seven times as much as the prize. It would therefore require more than $150,000, in addition to the amount of the prize, to settle this bill now. While it is very desirable to be familiar with such standing prob- lems as Fermat’s theorem, they should generally be used by the young investigator as an indirect rather than as a direct object of research. Unity of purpose can probably not be secured in any better way than by keeping in close touch with the masters of the past, and this unity of purpose is almost essential to secure real effective work in the immense field of mathematical endeavor. As a class of problems which are much more suitable for direct objects of research on the part of those who are not in close contact with a 1 Darboux, Bulletin des Sciences Mathématiques, vol. 32 (1908), p. 107. MODERN MATHEMATICAL RESEARCH—MILLER. 193 master in his field, we may mention the numerous prize subjects which are announced from year to year by foreign academies. Among the learned societies which announce such subjects the Paris Academy of Sciences is probably most widely known, but there are many others cf note. The subjects announced annually by these societies cover a wide range of mathematical interests, but they are frequently beyond the reach of the young investigator.! It is very easy to obtain these subjects, since they generally appear in the ‘‘notes” of many mathematical journals. In our country the Bul- letin of the American Mathematical Society is rendering very useful service along this and many other lines. While some of these sub- jects are very general, there are others which indicate clearly the particular difficulties which must be overcome before further progress in certain directions seems possible and hence these subjects deserve careful study, especially on the part of the younger investigators. As long as one is completely guided, in selecting subjects for re- search, by the standing problems or by the subjects announced by learned bodies and those proposed individually by prominent inves- tigators, one is on safe ground. Real progress along any of these lines is welcomed by our best journals, as such progress can easily be measured, and it fits into a general trend of thought which is easily accessible in view of the many developed avenues of approach. Notwithstanding these advantages, the real investigator should reach the time when he can select his own problems without advice or authority; when he feels free to look at the whole situation from a higher point of view and to assume the responsibility of an inde- pendent choice, irrespective of the fact that an independent choice may entail distrust and misgivings on the part of many who would have supported him nobly if he had remained on their plane. In looking at the whole situation from this higher point of view many new and perplexing questions confront us. Why should the developments of the past have followed certain routes? What is the probability that the development of the territory lying between two such routes will exhibit new points of contact and greater unity in the whole development? What should be some guiding principles in selecting one rather than another subject of investigation? What explanation can we give for the fact that some regions bear evidences of great activity in the past but are now practically deserted, while others maintained or increased their relative popularity through all times ? One of the most important tests that can be applied to a particular - mathematical theory is whether it serves as a unifying and clarifying principle of wide applications. Whether these applications relate to 1 For solutions of such problems in pure mathematics by Americans, see Bulletin of the American Mathe- matical Society, vol. 7 (1901), p. 190; vol. 16 (1910), p. 267. e 194 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. pure mathematics only or to related fields seems less important. In fact, the subjects of application may have to be developed. If this is the case, it is so much the better provided always that the realm of thought whose relations are exhibited by the theory is extensive and that the relations are of such a striking character as to appeal to a large number of mathematical intellects of the present or of the future. Some isolated facts may be of great interest, but as long as they are isolated they have little or no real mathematical interest. One object of mathematics is to enable us to deal with infinite sets with the same ease and confidence as if they were individuals. In this way only can our finite mind treat systematically some of the infinite sets of objects of mathematical thought. In comparatively recent years the spirit of organization has made itself felt among mathematicians with rapidly increasing power, and it has already led to many important results. Beginning with small informal organizations in which the social element was often most prominent, there have resulted large societies, national and even international, with formal organizations and with extensive publica- tions. Jn reference to one of these early organizations, the mathe- matical society of Spitalfields in London, which lasted for more than a century (1717-1845), it is said that each member was expected to come to the meetings with his pipe, his mug, and his problem.! The modern mathematical society is dominated by a different spirit. It generally supports at least one organ for publication, and scholarly publicity develops scholarly cooperation as well as scholarly ambitions. This cooperation has led to movements which could not have been undertaken by a few individuals. One may recall here the Revue Semestrielle, published under the auspices of the Amsterdam Mathematical Society; the extensive movement to examine and compare methods and courses of mathematical instruction in various countries, inaugurated at the fourth international congress, held at Rome in 1908; and, especially the great mathematical encyclopedias, whose start was largely influenced by the support of the deutschen Mathematiker-Vereinigung as expressed at the Vienna meeting in 1894. The French edition of the latter work, which is now in the course of publication, is expected to include 34 large volumes, besides those which are to be devoted to questions of the philosophy, the teaching, and the history of mathematics. These encyclopedias and other large works of reference are dong much to expedite travel in the mathematical field. In fact, it would probably not be exaggerating if we should say that by these encyclo- pedias alone the distances in time and effort between many points of the mathematical field have been cut-in two. In this connection it may be fitting to recall with a deep sense of obligation the great 1 Bs wurde von jedem erwartet, dass er seine Pfeife, seinen Krug und sein Problem mitbringe.’’ Cantor, ‘‘Vorlesungen ueber Geschichte der Mathematik,’’ vol. 4, 1908, p. 59. MODERN MATHEMATICAL RESEARCH—MILLER. 195 work which is being done by the Royal Society of London—not only for mathematics, but also for a large number of other sciences—in pro- viding bibliographical aids on a large scale. If the increase in knowl- edge will always be attended by a corresponding increase in means to learn readily what is known, even the young investigator of the future will have no reason to regret the extent of the developments. On the contrary, these should make his task easier, since they furnish such a great richness of analogies and of tried methods of attack. The last two or three decades have witnessed a great extension of mathematical research activity. As a result of this we have a large number of new mathematical societies. A few of the most recent ones are 2s follows: Calcutta Mathematical Society (1908), Man- chester Mathematical Society (1908), Scandinavian Congress of Mathematicians (1909), Swiss Mathematical Society (1910), Spanish Mathematical Society (1911), and the Russian Congress of Mathe- maticians (1912). In Japan a new mathematical periodical, called Tohoku Mathematical Journal, was started in 1911, and a few years earlier the Journal of the Indian Mathematical Society was started at Madras, India. The Calcutta Mathematical Society and the Spanish Mathematical Society have also started new periodicals during the last two or three years. While there has been a very rapid spread of mathematical activity during recent years, it must be admitted that the greater part of the work which is being done in the new centers is quite elementary from the standpoint of research. The city of Paris continues to hold its preeminent mathematical position among the cities of the world, and Germany, }rance, and Italy continue to lead all other countries in regard to the quality and the quantity of research in pure mathe- matics. Although America is not yet doing her share of mathematical research of a high order, we have undoubtedly reached a position of respectability along this line, and it should be easier to make further progress. Moreover, our material facilities are increasing relatively more rapidly than those of the countries which are ahead of us, and hence many of our younger men start under very favorable condi- tions. Unfortunately, there is not yet among us a sufficiently high appreciation of scholarly attainments and scientific distinction. The honest and outspoken investigator is not always encouraged as he ought to be and the best positions do not always seek the best man. I coupled ‘‘outspoken”’ with ‘‘investigator’’ advisedly, since research of high order implies liberty and scorns shams, especially shams relating to scholarship. Hven along these lines there seems to be encourag- ing progress, and this progress may reasonably be expected to increase with the passing of those who belong to the past in spirit and attain- ments. What appears to be a very serious element in our situation is the fact that the American university professor does not yet seek 196 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. and safeguard his freedom with the zeal of his European colleague. It is too commonly assumed that loyalty implies lying. The investigators in pure mathematics form a small army of about 2,000 men and a few women.! The question naturally arises, What is this little army trying to accomplish? A direct answer is that they are trying to find and to construct paths and roads of thought which connect with or belong to a network of thought roads commonly known as mathematics. Some are engaged in constructing trails through what appears an almost impassable region, while others are widening and smoothing roads which have been traveled for centuries. There are others who are engaged in driving piles in the hope of secur- ing a solid foundation through regions where quicksand and mire have combined to obstruct progress. A characteristic property of mathematics is that by means of cer- tain postulates its thought roads have been proved to be safe and they always lead to some prominent objective points. Hence they primarily serve to economize thought. The number of objects of mathematical thought is infinite, and these roads enable a finite mind to secure an intellectual penetration into some parts of this infinitude of objects. It should also be observed that mathematics consists of a connected network of thought roads, and mathematical progress means that other such connected or connecting roads are being estab- lished which either lead to new objective points of interest or exhibit new connections between known roads. The network of thought roads called mathematics furnishes a very interesting chapter in the intellectual history of the world, and in recent years an increasing number of investigators have entered the field of mathematical history. The results are very encouraging. In fact, there are very few other parts of mathematics where the progress during the last 20 years has been as great as in this history. This progress is partly reflected by special courses in this subject in the leading universities of the world. While the earliest such course seems to have been given only about 40 years ago, a considerable number of universities are now offering regular courses in this subject, and these courses have the great advantage that they establish another point of helpful contact between mathematics and other fields. Mathematical thought roads may be distinguished by the facts that by means of certain assumptions they have been proved to lead safely to certain objective points of interest, and each of them con- nects, at least in one point, with a network of other such roads which 1 Between 5 and 10 per cent of the members of the American Mathematical Society are women, but the per cent of women in the leading foreign mathematical societies is much smaller. Less than 2 per cent of the members of the national mathematical societies of France, Germany, and Spain are women, according to recent lists of members. The per cent of important mathematical contributions by women does not appear to be larger, as a rule, than that of their representation in the leading societies. The list of about 300 collaborators on the great new German and French mathematical encyclopedias does not seem to include any woman. Possibly women do not prize sufficiently intellectual freedom to become good mathe- matical investigators. Some of them exhibit excellent ability as mathematical students. MODERN MATHEMATICAL RESEARCH—MILLER. 197 were called mathematics, padjpata, by the ancient Greeks. The mathematical investigator of the present day is pushing these thought roads into domains which were totally unknown to the older mathe- maticians. Whetlfer it will ever be possible to penetrate all scientific knowledge in this way and thus to unify all the advanced scientific subjects of study under the general term of mathematics, as was the case with the ancient Greeks,! is a question of deep interest. The scientific world has devoted much attention to the collection and the classification of facts relative to material things and has secured already an immensely valuable store of such knowledge. As the number of these facts increases, stronger and stronger means of intellectual penetration are needed. In many cases mathematics has already provided such means in a large measure; and, judging from the past, one may reasonably expect that the demand for such means will continue to increase as long as scientific knowledge continues to grow. On the other hand, the domain of logic has been widely extended through the work of Russell, Poincaré, and others; and Russell’s conclusion that any false proposition implies all other prop- ositions whether true or false is of great general interest. During the last two or three centuries there has been a most remarkable increase in facilities for publication. Not only have academies and societies started journals for the use of their members, but numerous journals, inviting suitable contributions from the public have arisen. The oldest of the latter type is the Journal des Sgavans, which was started at Paris in 1665, while the Transactions of the Royal Society of London, started in the same year, should probably be regarded as the oldest of the former type. These journals have done an inestimable amount of good for the growth of knowledge and the spread of the spirit of investigation. At the present time more than 2,000 articles which are supposed to be contributions to knowledge in pure mathematics appear annually in such periodicals. In addition to these there is a growing annual list of books. The great extent of the fields of mathematics and the rapid growth of this literature have made it very desirable to secure means of judging more easily the relative merit of various publications. *Along this line our facilities are still very meager and many serious dif_i- culties present themselves. In America we have the book reviews and the indirect means provided by the meetings of various societies and by such publications as the ‘American Men of Science.” The most important aid to judge contemporaneous work is fur- nished by a German publication known as the Jahrbuch iiber die Fortschritte der Mathematik. In this work there appear annually about 1,000 pages of reviews of bogks and articles published two or three years earlier. These reviews are prepared by about 60 different 1 The term mathematics was first used with its present restricted meaning by the Peripatetic School. Cantor, ‘‘ Vorlesungen tiber Geschichte der Mathematik,” vol. 1 (1907), p. 216. 85360°—sm 1912 14 198 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. mathematicians who are supposed to be well prepared to pass judg- ment on the particular books and articles which they undertake to review. While these reviews are of very unequal merit, they are rendering a service of the greatest value. The main object of such reviews is to enable the true student to learn easily what progress others are making, especially in his own field and in those closely related thereto. They serve, however, another very laudable purpose in the case that they are reliable. We have the pretender and the unscrupulous always with us, and it is almost as important to limit their field of operation as to encourage the true investigator. ‘Companions in zealous research” should be fearless in the pursuit of truth and in the disclosure of falsehood, since these qualities are essential to the atmosphere which is favorable to research. While the mathematical investigator is generally so engrossed by the immediate objects in view that he seldom finds time to think of his services to humanity asa whole, yet such thoughts naturally come to him more or less frequently, especially since his direct objects of research seldom are well suited for subjects of general conversation. If these thoughts do come to him they should bring with them great inspiration. Who can estimate the amount of good mathematics has done and is doing now? If all knowledge of mathematics could suddenly be taken away from us there would be a state of chaos, and if all those things whose development depended upon mathematical principles could be removed, our lives and thoughts would be pauper- ized immeasurably. This removal would sweep away not only our modern houses and bridges, our commerce and landmarks, but also most of our concepts of the physical universe. Some may be tempted to say that the useful parts of mathematics are very clementary and have little contact with modern research. In answer, we may observe that it 1s very questionable whether the ratio of the developed mathematics to that which is finding direct application to things which relate to material advantages is greater now than it was at the time of the ancient Greeks. The last two centuries have witnessed a wonderful advance in the pure mathe- maties which is commonly used.t. While the advance in the extent of the developed fields has also been rapid, it has probably not been relatively more rapid. Hence, the mathematical investigator of to-day can pursue his work with the greatest confidence as regards his services to the general uplift both in thought and in material better- ment of the human race. All of his real advances may reasonably be expected to be enduring elements of a structure whose permanence is even more assured than that of granite pillars. 1In 1726, arithmetic and geometry were studied during the senior year in Harvard College. Natural philosophy and physics were still taught before arithmetic and geometry. Cajori, ‘The Teaching and History of Mathematics in the United States,’’ 1890, p. 22 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN THE ETHER AND MATTER. 3y M. Henrr Porncare. When M. Abraham came to me and asked that I close this series of sessions of the Société francaise de Physique, I was at first inclined to refuse. It seemed as if each subject had been completely dis- cussed and that I could have nothing to add to that which had already been so well said. I could only try to put in words the impres- sion which seemed to emerge as a summary of all the discussions, and that impression was so definite that each of you must have felt it. I did not see how I could make it any clearer by forcing myself to put it into words. But M. Abraham insisted with such good grace that I resigned myself to the inevitable difficulties of which the greatest is to repeat what each one of you has long since felt, and the least is to run through a maze of diverse subjects without the time to dwell . on any one of them. One thought must at once have struck all those present. The old mechanical and atomic hypotheses have, during recent years, become so plausible that they have ceased to seem like hypotheses; atoms are no longer just a convenient fiction. It seems almost as if we could see them, now that we know how to count them. A theory assumes reality and gains in probability when it accounts for new facts. Yet this may result in different ways. Generally it has to be enlarged to include the new data. Sometimes it loses in precision as it becomes broader. Sometimes it becomes necessary to engraft upon it an accessory hypothesis which plausibly fits in with it, but which nevertheless is somewhat foreign to it, and contrived expressly to fit a certain case. Then it can scarcely be said that the new facts confirm the original hypothesis, only that they are not incen- sistent with it. Or, again, there may be between the new facts and the oid, for which the hypothesis was originally conceived, such an intimate connection that whatever theory renders account of one must, because of that connection, render account of the other as well. Then the new data which fall in with the old are really only appar- ently new. 1 An address delivered before the Société frangaise de Physique, April11,1912. Reprinted by permission from Journal de Physique, Paris, 5th series, vol. 2, May, 1912. 199 200 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. It is quite different when we discover a coincidence which could have been predicted, and is thus not the result of chance, and espe- cially when that comcidence is a numerical value. Now, there are coincidences of this last nature which have recently brought confir- mation to our atomic views. The kinetic theory of gases has thus received unexpected corrob- oration. New theories have been very closely patterned after the kinetic theory, for instance, the theory of solutions as well as the electronic theory of metals. The molecules of a dissolved substance, as well as the free electrons to which metals owe their electrical con- ductivity, behave just as do the molecules of a gas within its inclo- ‘sure. The parallelism is perfect and can be followed even to numer- ical values. Thus what seemed doubtful becomes probable. Hach cne of these three theories, if it had to stand by itself, would seem only an ingenious hypothesis for which we might substitute other explanations equally probable. But when, as in each of the three cases, a different explanation would be necessary, the coincidences found would be inadmissible as the result of chance, whereas the kinetic theories make the coincidences necessary. Further, the theory of solutions quite naturally leads us to that of the Brownian movements, where it is impossible to consider the thermal agitation as a theoretical fiction, since it 1s actually seen under the microscope. The remarkable counting of the number of atoms by Perrin com- pleted the triumph of the atomic theory. What carries our convic- tion are the multiple concordances among the results obtained by completely different procedures. But a short time ago we would have thought ourselves fortunate if the numbers found had the same number of digits; we would have asked only that the first significant figure should be the same. That first figure we know to-day. What is more remarkable, we are now discussing even the most diverse properties of the atoms. In the processes used with the Brownian phenomenon, or in those used for the law of radiation, we do not deal directly with the number of atomS, but with their degrees of freedom’ of movement. In that process where we consider the blue of the sky, the mechanical properties of the atoms come into play; the atoms are looked upon as producing an optical discontinuity. Finally, when we take in hand radium, what we observe is the emission of projectiles. Here, were there discordances, no embarrassment would have been felt, but happily there were none. The atom of the chemist is now areality. But that does not mean that we have reached the ultimate limit of the divisibility of matter. When Democritus invented the atom he considered it as the abso- lutely indivisible element within which there would be nothing further to distinguish. ‘That is what the word meant in Greek. It was for that reason that it was coimed. Beyond the atom he wished > a ee THE ETHER AND MATTER—POINCARE. 201 no further mystery. Therefore the atom of the chemist would not have satisfied him since that is not indivisible; it is not a true element; it is not free from mystery, from secrets. The chemist’s atom is a universe. Democritus would have considered, even after so much trouble in finding it, that we were still only at the beginning of our search—these philosophers are never satisfied. And so the second thought which comes home to us is that each new physical discovery brings added complexity to the atom. ‘To begin with, these bodies, which we believed simple, and which indeed do act in many ways like simple bodies, may be separated into yet simpler components. This atom disintegrates into yet smaller atoms. What we call radioactivity is the perpetual breaking up of atoms. It is sometimes spoken of as a transmutation of elements; that is not strictly correct because an element is not really trans- formed into another element; it is really decomposed into several others. The products of the decomposition are still chemical atoms, similar in many respects to the more complex one, which in breaking up gave birth to them. It is a phenomenon which may be expressed by the most common kind of a reaction by a chemical equation which would be accepted with very little hesitation by the most, conservative chemist. Nor are we yet done, for within the atom we find yet more—elec- trons. Each atom is like a sort of solar system where the small negative electrons play the réle of planets revolving around the great positive central electron which takes the place of our sun. It is because of the mutual attraction of these electricities of opposite sign that the system is bound together as a whole. This attraction governs the periods of the planets and these periods fix the wave lengths of the light emitted by the atom. It is because of the self- induction of the currents formed by the moving electrons that the atom so formed has an apparent inertia which we call its mass. Besides these captive electrons there are others which are free and subject to the ordinary kinetic laws of gases and which render metals conductive. The second class are like the comets which circulate from one stellar system to another, establishing thus an exchange of energy between distant systems. But we have not yet come to an end. Besides these electrons, or atoms of electricity, we find magnetons, or atoms of magnetism, which we meet to-day through two different paths; through the study of magnetic substances and through the study of the spectra of simple bodies. I need not remind you of the beautiful discussion of Weiss and the astonishing relationships and commensurabilities which his experiments showed in such an unexpected manner. There were numerical relationships which could not be due to chance, and for which an explanation had to be sought. 202 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. At the same time an explanation was necessary for the curious distribution of the lines in the spectrum. According to the work of Balmer, of Kayser, of Runge, of Rydberg, these lines are distributed into definite series and each series obeys simple laws. We might at first expect to find these laws those of harmonics. Just as a cord, vibrating with infinite degrees of freedom, gives an infinite series of harmonics whose frequencies are multiples of the fundamental frequency of the cord, and just as a sonorous body of more complex form also gives out an analogous though less simple series of har- monics—for instance, a Hertz resonator is susceptible of an infinite number of different periods—so might an atom, for identical reasons, give out an infinite series of different wave lengths of light. You know that this simple explanation failed, because with the spectro- scopic phenomenon it is the frequency and not its square for which the expression is simple; for the frequency does not become infinite for harmonics of an infinitely high order. The idea must either be modified or abandoned. All attempts at modification have been futile; the method refuses to be adapted. Accordingiy Ritz aban- doned this theory and represented the vibrating atom as formed of a rotating electron and several magnetons placed end to end. Then the mutual electrostatic attraction of the electrons no longer deter- mines the wave length; that depends on the electromagnetic field formed by the electrons. I¢ is rather difficult to accept this idea because it seems somewhat artificial. However, we must resign ourselves to it for the time being since continued search for another has so far proved futile. How does the atom of hydrogen produce lines of several different wave lengths? It is not because each one of the atoms could produce any of the lines in the spectrum of hydrogen and does produce this or that one of the lines according to the initial condition of the vibration. It is because there are several kinds of hydrogen atoms, differing among themselves by the number of magnetons in line, each atom producing a different wave length. Can these different atoms change from one kind to another, and if so, how? How can an atom lose a magneton as does seem to happen when we pass from one allotropic form to another? Is it that a magneton escapes from an atom or do some of the magnetons in alignment change and become irregularly distributed ? This disposition of magnetons, end to end, is a peculiar character- istic of the theory of Ritz. The ideas of Weiss must seem to us in every way less strange. The magnetons must be placed either end to end or at least parallel since their resultant effects combine arith- metically, or rather algebraically, not geometrically. Now what is a magneton? Isit asimple thing? No, provided we wish to retain the hypothesis that they result from special amperian THE ETHER AND MATTER—POINCARE. 203 currents. A magneton is then a whirl of electrons and so our atom gains and gains in complexity. We now come to something still better because it permits us to estimate the complexity of the atom, the theory which Debierne announced near the end of this series of meetings. It relates to an explanation of the law governing radioactive transformations. The law is very simple. It is exponential. Its very form suggests at once the principles of statistics. We recognize the earmarks of chance. ‘This chance does not here relate to the fortuitous encounters of atoms and other exterior bodies. Its causes lie within the interior of the atom itself. I wish to be understood to refer not only to the cause relating to this chance but to something yet deeper. Other- wise we would find external conditions, the temperature, for instance, having an effect upon the coefficient of the exponent. Now that coefficient is remarkably constant, indeed Curie proposed to use it as a measure of absolute time. The chance which rules the transformations which we are consider- ing lies wholly within the atom. That is, the atom of a radioactive bodyis a universe within itself and a world subject to chance. But if we consider a little further, when we talk of probabilities we think of ereat numbers of things. A closed world made up of a few elements would obey laws more or less complicated but they would not be those we consider when we deal with statistics. Then it must follow that an atom is a very complex world. It is true that a closed world, at least one nearly closed, would be at the mercy of any exterior perturbations to which we might subject it. Since the atom is sub- ject to this statistical law there is consequently an internal thermo- dynamics of the atom and we can talk of the internal temperature of it. But, mark, this temperature has no tendency to get into equilib- rium with the temperature without; it is as if the atom were shut up within a perfectly adiathermic shell. It is precisely because it is thus closed, because its functions are so sharply limited and guarded by this impervious shell that the atom is so individual. At first, this complexity of the atom does not seem offensive; it seems asif we would not be embarrassed by it. But a little reflection brings difficulties not apparent at first. When we counted the atoms we really did not count their numbers directly but their degrees of freedom of movement, and we implicitly assumed that each atom had three degrees of such freedom. ‘This also accounted for the observed specific heats. But each new complexity must introduce a new degree of freedom and we become troubled in our count of the atoms. ‘This difliculty did not escape the attention of the originators of the theory of the equipartition of energy. They were astonished at the number of the lines in the spectra, but, seeing no way of escape from their difficulties, they boldly passed them by. 204 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The most natural explanation seems to be this theory of the atom as a very complex world, one shut up entirely to itself. Exterior events have no relation to what passes on within, nor does what happens within affect the exterior world. That can not be strictly true or else we would be utterly ignorant that there is anything within and the atoms would appear as simple material points. The truth is that we can see what happens within only as through a very small window, and there is practically no exchange of energy between the interior and what is outside; there is consequently no tendency to equipartition of energy between the atomic world and that without. The internal temperature, as I have just stated, does not tend to approach equality with that outside. That is why the specific heats are the same as if no internal complexity existed. Let us now imagine a complex body made up of a hollow sphere whose inner wall is abso- aa impervious to heat and within which is a great number of arious bodies. Then the observed specific heat i such a body, auld be that of the exterior sphere just as if the interior bodies did” not exist. The door which closes the interior of this atomic world opens, how- ever, from time to time, as when a particle of radium is shot off. The atom becomes degraded in rank in the radioactive hierachy. What happened then? How did this decomposition differ from an ordinary chemical decomposition? In what respect does the atom of uranium, formed of helium and something else, have more title to the name atom than the half molecule of cyanogen, for instance, which behaves in so many ways like a simple body though formed of carbon and nitrogen? Doubtless the atomic heat (I do not know that it has been measured) of uranium must obey the law of Dulong and Petit and would correspond to that of a simple atom. It should then become double at the moment of the emission of the helium particle, when the primordial atom decomposes into two secondary atoms. Through that decomposition the atom acquired further degrees of freedom through which it may act upon the exterior world and the new degrees of freedom should become evident in an increased specific heat. What would be the difference between the specific heat of all the components and that of the compound body? One would expect that the heat set free by the decomposition would vary very rapidly with the temperature so that the formation of the radioactive molecule, which is strongly endothermic at ordinary temperatures, would become exothermic at higher temperatures. We could thus understand better how the radioactive compounds could form, a process which is very mysterious. However, the conception of a little closed world, opened at moments, does not suffice to solve our problem. It would be necessary that the THE PTHER AND MATTER—POINCARE. 205 equipartition of energy should be supreme outside the closed little world save at the moment the door opened; but that is not true. The specific heat of solid bodies diminishes rapidly with decreasing temperatures as if some of the degrees of freedom of the atoms were successively paralyzed—frozen, so to speak—or, if you prefer, have lost connection with the exterior world, withdrawn within the interior in some unknown manner. Furthermore, the law of “black” radiation is not what would be expected from the theory of equipartition. The law which results from that theory is the one derived by Rayleigh, and that law, besides involving an evident contradiction, since it gives an infinite total radiation, is absolutely at variance with experimental results. Tn the emission of a black body there is much less light of short wave lengths than would be required by the equipartition hypothesis. Planck consequently devised his quanta theory, according to which the exchange of energy between the matter and the ether—or rather between ordinary matter and the small resonators whose vibrations furnish the light of incandescent matter—can take place only inter- mittently. A resonator can not gain energy or lose it in a continu- ous manner. It can not gain a fraction of a quantum; it must acquire a whole quantum or none at all. Why, then, does the specific heat of a solid diminish at low tempera- tures? Why do its atoms seem to lose certain degrees of freedom ? Tt is because the supply of energy offered to them at low temperatures is not great enough to give to each a quantum. Certain ones could get only a fraction of a quantum and, as they will take a whole one or none, they remain without. It is just so in the case of radiation where certain resonators which can not have a whole quantum take none and remain inactive. Consequently there is much less radiation at low temperatures than there would otherwise be. Since the required quantity becomes greater as the wave length becomes shorter, it is especially the short wave-length resonators which remain inactive, so that the proportion of short wave-length light is much less than that indicated by Rayleigh’s formula. To say that a plausible theory should remove all difficulties would be somewhat naive. When a somewhat daring theory is launched, difficulties are expected. If we upset all the accepted notions, we must not be surprised at some obstacles. Such difficulties do not count as valid objections. I take the courage, therefore, to indicate some of these difficulties, and I will not choose those which are the greatest, nor the most evident, those which occur to everyone; that would be futile indeed, since you all recognize them immediately. I wish to state to you 206 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. the secies of mental attitudes through which I have successively passed, T asked myself first what was the value of the proposed demonstra- tions. I saw that I could get the probabilities of the various distri- butions of energy by simple enumeration, since the numbers were fortunately finite according to the hypotheses, but I could not see why they were all equally possible. Then I introduced the known relations between the entropy, the temperature, and the probability. That assumed the possibility of a thermodynamic equilibrium since the results could be proved supposing that to be true. ‘I knew that such an equilibrium was possible, since experiment has proved it. But that did not satisfy me. I wished to show that it followed from the hypothesis; indeed, that it would be a necessary consequence. I really had no doubts, but I felt the necessity of seeing the matter a little more clearly and for that I needed to examine the steps of the process a little more in detail. In order that there may be a redistribution of the energy between the resonators of different wave lengths whose oscillations produce radiation, it is necessary that they should be able to interchange their energy; otherwise the initial distribution would persist indefi- nitely, and as that distribution was arbitrary there would result no definite radiation law. Now a resonator can neither receive from nor give to the ether light except of a perfectly definite wave length. If, then, these resonators can not act upon each other mechanically, that is, without the intervention of the ether, or if they are fixed and immovable in a definite matrix, each of them could emit or absorb only light of a definite color and it could exchange energy only with a resonator with which it was in perfect tune. The initial distribution would remain unalterable. But we can conceive of two modes of exchange which are not objectionable. First, some atoms, some free electrons, might pass from one resonator to another, hit, and thus communicate or receive energy; or, secondly, the light, reflected as by a moving mirror, might change its wave length as recognized by the Déppler-Fizeau principle. Are we free to choose between these two devices? Surely both must come into play, both should lead to the same result, the same law of radiation. What would we do if the results were contradictory, if the mechanism of collisions working alone led to one law of radiation, that of Planck, for instance, while the Déppler-Fizeau effect to another? Very well, if both mechanisms came into play, one or the other would alternate in preponderance according to chance, thus causing an oscillation from one law to another, and there would be no tendency to a final stable state, toward that thermal death where there is no further change. Then the second law of thermodynamics would be violated. THE BLHER AND MATTER—POINCARE. 207 I resolved to examine one by one the two processes, and I com- menced with the one having mechanical action, collisions. You know why the old theories necessarily led us to the law of equipartition. It was because they assumed that all the equations of the mechanics were of the Hamiltonian form, and consequently made unity possible as the jast multiplier in the Jacobian sense. We must therefore sup- pose that the laws of collision between a free electron and a resonator are not of this form and that the equations then admit of a final mul- tiplier other than unity; otherwise the second law of thermodynamics would not hold and then we would find ourselves in the difficulty just stated. However, it is not necessary that this multiplier be unity. It is exactly this last factor which is a measure of the probability of the corresponding state of the system (or rather we might call it the probability density). In the hypothesis of quanta, this factor can not be a continuous function since the probability of a state must be zero whenever the corresponding energy is not a multiple of a quantum. That is an evident stumbling block, but one to which we had to be resigned in advance. But I did not stop there. I pushed the calculations to an end and came out with the law of Planck, justifying fully the views of that German physicist. I then passed to the Déppler-Fizeau mechanism. Let us imagine a receptacle formed of the body and piston of a pump, the walls of which are perfect reflectors and within which is inclosed a certain quantity of energy in the form of light. This energy is distributed in any manner whatever among the various wave lengths. The re- ceptacle contains no source of light. The luminous energy is inclosed within the contrivance once forever. As long as the piston remains fixed, this distribution of the energy among the wave lengths can not vary, for the light will retain the same wave lengths each time it is reflected. However, if the piston is moved, this distribution will vary. If the velocity of the piston is very small, the phenomenon is reversible and the entropy must remain constant. We would thus have the analysis of Wien and come out with Wien’s law. We would have made no advance, since that law is common to both the old and the new theories. If the velocity of the piston is not very small, the phenomenon is not revers- ible, so that thermodynamic analysis would no longer lead to equali- ties but to simple inequalities and we could draw no conclusions. However, it seems as if we could reason as follows: Let us suppose the initial distribution of the energy to be that of black radiation, evidently corresponding to a maximum of entropy. If we then give several strokes to the piston, the final distribution must evidently be the same, otherwise the entropy would diminish. And, indeed, what- ever the initial distribution, after a very great number of strokes of the 208 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. piston the final distribution must be that corresponding to maximum entropy, which is the same as that of black radiation. Such reasoning has no value. The distribution of the radiation has a tendency to approach that of black radiation. It can then no longer change, for we can not pass heat from a cold to a hot body; that is to say, without the expenditure of external work. But here external work is supplied through the strokes of the piston, which appears as an augmentation of the luminous energy in the cavity of the pump. The work is changed into heat. The same difficulty would no longer exist if the bodies in movement on which the light suffered reflection were infinitely small and infi- nitely numerous; their kinetic energy would not correspond to mechan- ical work but to heat. We could not then compensate the diminu- tion of entropy which corresponds to the change in the distribution of the energy by a transformation of work into heat, and then we would be right in concluding that, if the initial distribution were black that distribution would remain indefinitely. Let us now imagine an inclosure with fixed and perfectly reflecting walls; let us mclose not only luminous energy, but also a gas. The - molecules of the gas will act as moving mirrors. If the distribution of the energy among the wave lengths is that of the black radiation corresponding to the temperature of the gas, then that. distribution should be stable; that is: First, whatever action the light has upon the molecules should not alter the temperature of the gas; second, whatever action the molecules have upon the light should not alter its distribution of energy. Einstein examined this action of the light upon the molecules. The latter suffer something which resembles the pressure of radiation. Kinstein, however, does not state the matter so simply. He com- pares the molecules to very small mobile resonators possessing at the same time not only the kinetic energy of translation, but also the energy of electric oscillations.- The result at any rate would have come out the same—he reached Rayleigh’s law. Personally, I would have done the reverse and studied the action of the molecules upon the light. The molecules are too small to produce regular reflection. They could produce only a diffusion of it. It is this diffusion, when we neglect the molecular movements with which we are acquainted both in theory and experiment. It indeed produces the blue of the sky. This diffusion does not alter the wave length, but is much greater the smaller the wave length. We must pass now from the case when the molecules are at rest to when their motion must be accounted for, taking into account their agitation which produces their temperature. That is easy; it THE ETHER AND MATTER—POINCARE. 209 is necessary only to apply the principle of relativity of Lorentz. Accordingly, the various bundles of rays of the same true wave length relative to the molecule and striking the molecule from various directions would not have the same apparent wave length to the observer who supposes the molecule at rest. The apparent wave length is not altered by the reflection, but the true wave length is. We thus come to an interesting result: The reflected or diffused energy is not equal to the incident energy. What is unaltered is not the energy, but the product of the energy by the wave length. At first I felt satisfied. It seemed from this that an incident quantum would give a diffused quantum since a quantum varies inversely as the wave length. Unfortunately this brings us nothing. I was led by this analysis to Rayleigh’slaw. Iknewthat inadvance, but I hoped that in seeing in detail how I was brought to it that I could tell what modifications I must make in the hypothesis in order to get Planck’s law. In that hope I was deceived. My first thought was to look for something resembling the theory of quanta. It would indeed be surprising that two such entirely different explanations should both take account of the same deroga- tion of the law of equipartition of energy. What is the effect of the discontinuous structure of energy? We might suppose that this discontinuity relates to the luminous energy itself when it passes through the free ether and so when it falls upon a molecule does so in a discontinuous manner, in little separate battalions. It is easy to see that that would not alter our results. Or, we might suppose that the discontmuity occurs at the very moment of diffusion, that the diffusing molecule does not diffuse the light in a continuous manner, but by successive quanta. This again will not do because if the light wishing to be transformed has to wait, so to speak, in an antechamber for its omnibus to fill before starting out, there would result a forcible retardation. Now, according to the theory of Lord Rayleigh, the diffusion by the molecules in the direction of the incident ray produces simply ordinary reflection. That is to say, it interferes regularly with the incident light, and this would not be possible were there a retardation of phase. If we try, impartially, to choose which of our premises we must abandon, we are none the less embarrassed. We can not see how we can deny the principle of relativity. Must we then modify our law for the diffusion of light by molecules at rest? That would be very difficult. We surely could not stretch our imagination into believing that the sky is not blue. I will stop in this embarrassment and close with the following reflections. As science progresses, it becomes more and more difficult to fit in the new facts when they will not fit in spontaneously. The older theories depend upon the coincidences of so many numerical 210 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. results which can not be attributed to chance. Weshouldnotseparate what has been joined together. We could not break their frames, only try to stretch them apart. And that we can not always succeed in doing. The theory of equipartition explains so much that it must contain a part of the truth; on the other hand, it can not all be true for it will not explain all. We can neither abandon it nor keep it without modification. Those modifications which we must make seem so strange that we hesitate to reconcile ourselves to them. At present we can only enumerate them without solving them. EXPERIMENTS WITH SOAP BUBBLES. By C. V. Boys. [With 1 plate.] I had a certain feeling of hesitation in suggesting that you would perhaps be interested in seeing some experiments which I have devised with soap bubbles. I feared that such a subject would have but slight seientifie interest for a learned body like yours. However, your accomplished secretary has assured me that my experiments will be well received, and so | trust that you will be indulgent. To me a soap bubble is a beautiful thing. It appeals to several senses and to many kinds of minds; it is a source of delight to children, and we who know somewhat of the mysteries of molecular physies which it helps to reveal look at it with admiration. With its aid we are enabled to make clear the action of forces relating to other branches of physical science with greater facility and delicacy often- times than by any other means. I have observed that the soap bubble even arouses the curiosity of monkeys, and especially of those whose intellectual development is furthest advanced, viz, the chim- panzee and the orang-outang. In a word, among the objects with which we all are familiar and which excite in us a genuine scientific interest the soap bubble takes precedence of all others of the same weight. Before | show you any of my experiments, it would seem to be incumbent on me to pay the tribute of my admiration .to Plateau, that man of genius who, after being stricken with blindness, obliged to make use of the eyes and hands of his daughter-in-law, contrived and developed experiments and theories relating to the science of capillarity which have compelled the admiration of the scientific world, and whose great work, ‘“‘Statique des Liquides,” is a fit monu- ment to the author’s genius. When I reflect upon the wealth of 1 Lecture before the Société frangaise de Physique, April 12,1912. Translated by permission from Journal de Physique, series 5, vol. 2 (August, 1912). See Soap bubbles: Their colours and the forces which mould them, by C. V. Boys, F. R. S., 10th thousand, Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, Northumber- land Avenue, London; E. 8. Gorham, New York; and Boys (C.V.), member of the Royal Society: Butles de Savon, Four lectures upon Capillarity, before a Juvenile Audience. ‘Translated from English by Mr. C. Ed, Guillaume, Sc. D., with new notes by the author and the translator, 18 mo., 60 figures and 1 plate. Paris, Gauthier Villars, 1912. 211 212 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. knowledge which Plateau has bestowed upon us, it seems to me that I have but picked up a few crumbs which fell from the rich man’s table. The formation and existence of a soap bubble depend upon the weak superficial tension of the solution of soap and upon the remark- able property, studied by Willard Gibbs, by virtue of which the superficial tension varies, according to the needs of the moment, between elastic limits, in the true sense of the term. I was sur- prised to find by experiment that an increase amounting nearly to 20 per cent of the normal tension could be produced. Unfortunately, I can try no experiment here which would permit me to demonstrate to you this fact adequately. The tension at the upper parts of a large bubble must be greater than that at the lower parts, for it must balance both the weight of the bubble and the tension of the lower parts. That is why there must be a superior limit to the possible size of a soap bubble. A bubble whose color is the bright apple green, weighing five one- thousandths grain per square inch,! can not exceed 100 inches in diameter, for in that case the additional force which the upper part has to withstand is one-half grain per linear inch, which is one-fifth of the normal tension of the film, i. e., 24 grains per linear inch. Similarly a bubble white of the first order, or weighing one one- thousandth grain per square inch, might extend to five times this diameter before this cause of failure would operate. But it is not possible in practice to blow such large bubbles. One great difficulty is, if mechanical means be not employed, to send air in sufficient quantity. With regard to this, Prof. Wood, of Baltimore, told me that he found the principle of injection very advantageous. Indeed, when we reflect, it exactly meets the necessities of the case. Internal pressure diminishing as the bubble increases in size, a small quantity of air blown into the tube will carry with it a large amount of air at a smail but sufficient pressure. I have tried several forms of injectors, but the simplest and hitherto the best is made of a bent pipe such as is employed in the testing of illuminating gas for sulphur. I blow into the narrow end by means of a mouthpiece, while the wide end is surrounded by a cambric band with a serrated edge which feeds the bubble with liquid as -it increases. With this device I have not only blown a bubble of 80 centimeters diameter, but am convinced that this is by no means the practical limit. It may be worth mentioning that I make use of Plateau’s liquid consisting of a solution in water of oleate of soda with glycerine added. The proportions are as follows: Oleate, 1 part; water, 40 parts; one-third of its volume of glycerine is then added. I have increased the proportion of oleate, especially when I have wished to blow large bubbles. 1 These weights can be read off directly from the colored plate in my book. _ = EXPERIMENTS WITH SOAP BUBBLES—BOYS. 213 If the pipe is warmed a little, the bubble which will then contain slightly warmed air will be a genuine Montgolfier’s balloon, and will rise by its ascensional force. If the bubble have a diameter of 1 foot, it is surprising how long it will remain sufficiently warm to float in the air. When it begins to descend, it can be stopped by means of a current of air directed upward either by blowing with the pipe or with a pair of bellows. In the latter case, by accommodating the movements of the bellows to the soap bubble’s natural period of oscillation, we may at once keep it in the air and cause it to execute vibrations of great amplitude. We may form it again and blow into the interior a very little illuminating gas, and it will then float of itself. The very heat of our breath suffices to make a bubble ascend if it be sufficiently large, e. g., 6 inches in diameter. The tin funnel of the old-fashioned gazogene is all that is needed for this experiment. But with a heated pipe, we may make even very small bubbles ascend fora few moments. ‘The most convenient method of warming, however, is to allow the warm gases above a candle flame to be drawn in by the injector for a few seconds. Bubbles so blown will rise above buildings and float away out of sight. it is clear that a cold bubble blown with air will float upon carbonic acid. I once entered the Grotto del Cane, near Naples, and blew numerous bubbles which floated all about me in the heavy gas, to the great delight of the custodian. Vapor of ether is more easily prepared and is still heavier than carbonic-acid gas. It is easier to use it for the purpose of supporting a bubble filled with air, but the vapor soon condenses upon the bubble, evaporates in the interior, and at the end of a short time the latter sinks into the vapor. If it be caught on a ring and brought near a lighted candle, the bubble will ‘burst into flame, thus showing that the vapor has penetrated the interior. We may again blow a bubble by means of the tin funnel and hold it in the vapor. If we then bring a lighted candle near the open end of the funnel, a long flame like that of a Bunsen burner is formed by the issuing vapor. It is interesting to observe that if ‘benzene (C,H,) be substituted for ether, the bubble will float as well but the penetration of the vapor will be less rapid. However, it finally enters and the bubble then burns with a brilliant flame. With pentane (C;H,,), on the contrary, the bubble floats without the penetration of vapor, this substance being practically insoluble. A bubble of oxygen floating upon ether or benzene explodes violently like a bomb, when ignited. The vapor of ether and a few other liquids somewhat diminish the superficial tension of a soap bubble, while the greater number of organic vapors increase it. This is especially noticeable with ammo- nia, which undoubtedly acts chemically upon the free molecules of oleic acid, combines with them and still further neutralizes the 85360°—smM 1912 15 214 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. special influence of the dissociated molecules, which influence Willard Gibbs showed and which tends to dimimish the superficial tension. This action of ammonia may be very simply shown by resting a bubble upon a ring of wire of somewhat less diameter. If we hold above the bubble the stopper from a bottle of diluted ammonia, the bubble withdraws toward the lower side of the rmg. If, on the other hand, a glass containing ammonia be held beneath the bubble, the action will be still more rapid, the bubble rismg in opposition to gravity and squeezing itself through the rmg. The motion occurs in each case as if the bubble were inconvenienced by the smell of the ammonia. If the bubble be too large to rise through the ring, a tear is formed, indicating its distress. Naturally, the cause of these actions » is the increase of tension of the liquid sheet on the side of the ring to which the ammonia is applied, and if the bubble is too large, this increase of tension attracts a little of the liquid from the rest of the bubble and from the wire. This it is which forms the tear. Dupré proved long ago that the speed with which soap bubbles burst is determined by the equality of energy in the movement of the little drops discharged at the speed of the retreating edge to that which is necessary to draw out the liquid sheet in opposition to its own tension. This may be expressed in Newton’s manner in the following way: If the tension of a sheet of soap water be sufficient to support the weight of a certain number of feet in a sheet of a certam thickness or color, the speed with which a sheet of this thickness or color will break is the same as the speed acquired by a stone which has fallen freely this same number of feet under the influence of gravity. This is manifestly based on the supposition that the liquid is perfectly mobile. When the rigidity and viscosity increase, the speed is reduced. For example, a solution of saponin has a surface tension 50 per cent greater than that of a solution of soap. So a. saponin bubble should burst more quickly than a soap bubble if surface tension only were of importance. For the benefit of those who are not familiar with saponin bubbles I will show you one as a curiosity (pl. 1, fig. 1). I shall next make a froth of saponin and glycerin in a cell in the lantern which you see projected on the screen. I may continue the operation until I obtain the ordinary appearance of froth. But the cells which are formed soon begin to burst. You may see the free edge retreat with a slow, irregular movement, which is due to the fact that the liquid is far from being a perfect fluid. Hence T conclude that a soap bubble will burst rather less quickly than the calculation would indicate. Mr. Bull could easily show you this by the aid of his very powerful micro-cinematograph. In marked contrast with the slow bursting of this particular bubble, I can show you that the speed of a true soap bubble’s bursting, which may be as great as that of an express train, may be rendered visible PLATE 1. FiG. 1. FiGeoe Fig. 2. EXPERIMENTS WITH SOAP BUBBLES. 6 EXPERIMENTS WITH SOAP BUBBLES—BOYS. 25 to the eye either when seen directly or when projected upon a screen. I have prepared a frame of brass wire upon which I can form a sheet of soap water 6 feet long and one-quarter of an inch wide, but zigzag, so that it occupies a surface of about 4 inches square. Further, I have so constructed it that the two ends of the’sheet are adjacent. Then, on breaking the sheet at one end, we immediately see that the bursting is progressive, lasting about one-seventh of a second for the entire course. If the sheet be broken as soon as formed, when it is stil thick, the motion of the edge is slower. If we let it drain until it shows the white or the colors of the first order, the motion of the edge is perceptibly more rapid. The soap bubble furnishes a convenient means of illustrating the principle of stability. It would suffice here to refer to Plateau’s labors upon this subject. However, I have arranged two experiments. The first is a variation of an experiment of Plateau’s which showed that a very light sphere of glass remained in stable equilibrium upon the lower extremity of a vertical ring of wire if a sheet of soap water were spread over the rmg. I have found that blown birds’ eggs can be employed for this experiment provided that they be no heavier than those of the house sparrow, but the hole should be mended with a fragment of tissue paper and celluloid varnish. The bird’s egg offers the advantage of introducing a second princi- ple of stability. It can remain in equilibrium only if its greatest cross section, 1. e., its oval section, is in the plane of the liquid sheet. If the ring be made to revolve slowly in its own plane, the egg begins to roll or slip; then, the speed increasing, it rolls and jumps, but never leaves the liquid sheet. I have so arranged this experiment as to be able to project it upon the screen. The second method of showing the conditions of stability depends upon the employment of cylindrical bubbles whose length is nearly x times as great as their diameter. Beyond that length, as Plateau has shown, a cylindrical bubble is no longer stable. As this length is approached, the stability is diminished, or, in other words, the bubble more easily loses its form. If we blow aspherical bubble with oxygen between the poles of an electromagnet of moderate power, we find that the action of the magnetism upon the oxygen is not sufficient to make the bubble move appreciably when the exciting current is closed. But if we make the bubble take the cylindrical form with an apparatus so constructed as to render its length nearly zx times as great as its diameter, the magnetic influence imme- diately causes the separation of the bubble into two parts, the larger attached to the nearer ring remaining between the poles of the electromagnet and the smaller attached to the more distant ring. T shall now blow a large bubble, using my mouth as an injector and employing my hands without any other apparatus. This method 216 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. was shown to me by Prof. Wood. After thus taking a bubble between my hands, f gently separate them until a neck is formed in the midst of the bubble and then until this is divided into two. I now beat the two bubbles together in a horizontal direction, and you observe that they do not unite, but flatten each other and resist nearer approach. If, on the contrary, they are made to approach in the vertical! direction, they unite instantly and the approach is facilitated. In the first case, the clean, smooth surface of the two bubbles did not permit the air to be squeezed out, while in the second case-the rough surface of the liquid which drips away at the lower part of the upper bubble broke the intervening layer of air. The two bubbles were then able to unite, either attached to a common face or septum, or, if the latter broke before becoming visible, re-forming the original single bubble. This operation may be repeated several times. What I shall now show you rests upon the following property which bubbles possess: When their surfaces are smooth and clean, they may be pressed against each other without there being actual contact. If I place a bubble upon a horizontal ring just not large enough to admit of its passing through as a result of its own weight, and if I push it downward with a liquid sheet spread over another rmg it will pass through at once. If we take care to remove all the drops which may form upon the lower surface, we shall be able to push it upward again. In no case does the liquid sheet really touch the bubble. T blow a bubble under a ring and suspend from it another ring of aluminum wire so as to be able to give it a slightly elongated form. Inserting the pipe, I blow into the interior another bubble, which I detach. This second bubble will descend into the interior of the first until it finds a support at a certain parallel of latitude in its lower hemisphere and will remain there as long as no drop suspended from its lower part shall come into contact with the outer bubble. But these drops can be removed with the pipe. The outer bubble can then be elongated and pulled downward by means of the aluminum ring so as to compress the inner bubble and give it the form of a prolate spheroid, which can be swung around and around without there being actual contact between the two bubbles during these operations. T then remove the lower ring by peeling it off, so to speak, and then withdraw the air present between the two liquid sheets until it is almost impossible to see between them. If I then blow in some air again tangentially, the inner bubble will assume a rapid rotary motion. The bubbles are too large to be easily projected upon the screen. However, I can make these operations and other similar ones more visible by simply utilizing the shadow thrown upon the screen, by the positive crater of an electric are. EXPERIMENTS WITH SOAP BUBBLES—BOYS. 21% IT blow a bubble upon a ring and insert some coal gas or some hydrogen, and it tends to rise; but as it is held down by the ring, it is elongated upward, it assumes on an enlarged scale and in the oppo- site direction the form of a liquid drop, and finally detaches itself in a similar manner. When a bubble blown into the open air con- tains a very smail quantity of illuminating gas, it may be that it is just hght enough to float or that it has a tendency either to ascend or descend. If it be just light enough to have a tendency to ascend, we see that after some minutes, owing to a process of diffusion, condensa- tion, and evaporation, it loses a little of its light gas and tends to descend again. On the other hand, a large bubble containing a quantity of illumimating gas not quite sufficient to support it may occasionally float along over a paved area and gradually descending it may rid itself of the heavy drop by contact with the stone and then, thus lightened, it can slowly remount. These large bubbles are very beautiful, especially when blown out of doors, and in the new edition of my book on soap bubbles I have given very numerous hints as to the most practical method of making them. Unfortunately, it is not possible in this amphitheater to reproduce the conditions of bubbles made in the open air. I should like, however, to point out that one of the most special features of the beauty of these bubbles is the sky line, which is seen in a kind of spherical perspective upon the upper surface and again, but then reversed, upon the lower surface. You do not see the images of windows reflected by bubbles in the open air, although you may see pictures representing this phenomenon. I can show you a photograph (pl. 1, fig. 2) I took of a bubble in the open air, and in which the buildings behind my office in London appear deformed according to a curious perspective I call spherical. The view is a dismal one, but the photograph is interesting; a similar view taken in a beautiful garden or near magnificent buildings would be still more attractive. A second photograph (pl. 1, fig. 3), which I took last November under most unfavorable conditions, shows that the bubble reflects portraits in a charming manner. = S | = ‘a go} A Er ac} (e) Slee a 2 “= OD Fis} ee ee 3 = oS ae ae e I} qd Ry : vA Ke (<>) 5 — Se So 5 | a =) outs At 1077 (<>) =| SD 3 ny a Z q &%o, Pay oe 3 (o) (os) os a S14, Ey “ [<3 2) 25) oh {0-80 80 rouwmetes a dos eet 3s A= | eon f a 2 Bionas | oo See = a>) 5 ) pares oq i 60 & BH : Se gH A a 2 (o) 0) isi g Go isi ic : si © aw £2 O eS oO 24 3 a re} fe) co 8 § =e . >) S 8 GLACIAL LAKES—TAYLOR. ON The accompanying diagrammatic map (fig. 10) shows the relation of the Whittlesey and Algonquin hinge lines to the extreme border of the Wisconsin ice sheet, with three later critical positions of the ice border and several of the isobases. The hinge lines and isobases in the regions east and west of the Great Lakes are added in order to show the general relations of the deformations in those parts to that of the region under discussion. The shore lines of the glacial Lake Agassiz are taken from Upham. (Monograph 25, U.S. Geo- logical Survey.) No shore lines in the Great Lakes area are shown excepting the Glenwood or highest beach of Lake Chicago, the Whittlesey beach, and the correlative beach of Lake Saginaw. The two hinge lines for Whittlesey and Algonquin represent the isobase of zero for each beach. Both are produced conjecturally northwest- ward to the region of the glacial Lake Agassiz. Two Nipissing isobases are shown in the Superior basin, and these show a trend quite different from those of the Algonquin. In the Michigan and Huron basins the Nipissing beach seems to hinge on about the same line as the Algonquin. The curved isobases in the region south of St. Lawrence River and east of Lake Ontario show the present state of knowledge concerning the deformation of the marine shore line. They show the general relation of the deformation of the marine area to that of the Great Lakes region. The extent of the pre-Cambrian or Old-land area is also indicated to afford means for comparing it with the area of uplift. Inasmuch as the uplift occurred in the course of the melting of the Wisconsin ice sheet and relief from the ice load, and inasmuch as it les so largely within the glaciated district, a causal relation has by some been inferred and definitely announced. The writer would caution against too hasty conclusions in this matter, especially in view of somewhat discordant relations between the boundaries of the ice and of the uplifted lands which this diagram- matic map will serve to bring out. The writer will take space here merely to state that the preponderance of present evidence appears to be only shghtly in favor of resilience following depression by the ice weight as the main cause of the uplifting of the land and the deformation of the shore lines in the region of the Great Lakes. Standing as.a close second to the hypothesis of ice weight is the pos- sibility of deformation of the beaches by uplifts of the land incident to crustal creeping movements, which are simply the most recent impulses in a long process of continental growth reaching back into the Tertiary age. If certain evidences which are now supposed to indicate relatively recent crustal creep toward the southwest are substantiated, the hypothesis of resilience following depression by ice weight seems likely to become of secondary importance. efi eae 2 ny - ree agg . a Pe SOL 9 4 eee odo. that adieu Ba elias poe eet nator “a lragea Te ont bier ad whe fi StO NE tds APPLIED GEOLOGY .! By Atrrep H. Brooxs.? The science of geology, generally regarded as having originated in the vague speculations of the cosmogonists hardly two centuries ago, has to-day become of great practical utility. During the past decade all geologic investigations have shown a marked ten- dency toward material problems, which is in contrast with the previous decade, when the interests of pure science were much more strongly emphasized. No one will deny that economic or, as I prefer to call it, applied geology is attracting more and more attention from professional geologists. It is appropriate that the members of this society should take cognizance of this trend in geologic thought, analyze the conditions which have brought it about, and decide, it may be, whether it makes for the good or the evil of the science. Before discussing this subject it will be well to attempt a defini- tion of the term ‘‘applied geology.”” Some appear to believe that when the geologist emerges from the tunnel’s mouth he is at once transplanted into the realm of pure science, and that the miner’s candle illuminates only the so-called practical, or even commercial, problems. I submit that such opimions are not justified. The surveys made as a basis for geologic maps and structure sections, usually classed as belonging to the realm of pure science, often yield results which are the most concrete examples of applied geology. On the other hand, the exhaustive study of mineral deposits is essen- tial to the solution of many fundamental geologic problems. A close analysis will make it evident that the lne of demarcation between the fields of pure and applied geology is, in a large measure, arbitrary. ‘The collection to-day of a new group of facts or the determination of new principles relating to pure science may result to-morrow in their application to industrial problems. Mr. Gilbert has recognized two fields of geologic research, the one embracing the study of local problems of stratigraphy, structure, ete., the 1 Presidential address delivered before the Geological Society of Washington, Dec. 13, 1911. Reprinted by permission, with author’s corrections, from Journal of the Washington Academy of Science, vol. 2, No. 2, Jan. 19, 1912, pp. 19-48. 3 Published by permission of the Director of the United States Geological Survey. 329 330 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. other the general problems of geologic philosophy, and has shown that both may yield results of the highest industrial importance. As David Paige has expressed it: There indeed can be no antagonism between science and art, between theoretical knowledge and its economic application. The practical expression of a truth can never be divorced from its theoretic conception. If, in spite of what has been said, the two fields of science are to be differentiated, applied geology may be defined as the science which utilizes the methods and principles of pure geology to supply the material needs of man. While the present tendency of geologic science toward the inves- tigation of problems of everyday life is patent to all, yet it is desir- Teh ae 222 WwEse ee ne Fic. 1.—GEOLOGIC PUBLICATIONS, STATE AND FEDERAL APPROPRIATIONS FOR GEOLOGIC WORK, AND PERCENTAGE OF TOTAL NUMBER OF STATES SUPPORTING GEOLOGIC WORK FOR THE YEARS 1886 TO 1909. able to express this tendency quantitatively. For this purpose I have determined the percentage of geologic publications issued annually during the last quarter of a century devoted in part or entirely to applied geology. The result of this analysis is graphically presented in the diagram (fig. 1), in which the one curve represents the total number of publications; another, those classed as bearing upon applied geology. This diagram is bhaned on an actual count, judging by the titles, of the publications included in the annual bibliography of North American geology. It is conceded, of course, that a mere enumeration of titles is, at best, but a crude method, which neither takes into account the extent of the individual pub- APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. SS lications nor attempts to appraise their value to science. However, I trust it will serve as a rough measure of the activities of North American geologists. On this basis the diagram clearly records a very rapid increase during the past decade in the ratio of publications dealing with applied geology to the total of geologic literature. The figures show that applied geology was at its lowest ebb in 1890, when only 12 per cent, and at its highest flood in 1909, when 47 per cent of the total publications related to this subject. To consider the percentage of economic papers by decades: In the 10 years ending in 1895 the average was 22 per cent; for the following decade, 30 per cent; and for the last 5 years, 44 per cent. Another measure of this trend in geology has been obtained by a similar classification of the publications of the United States Geo- logical Survey. The result of this enumeration is shown in a second diagram (fig. 2). In this it will be seen that in 1890 less than 1 per cent of the publications issued by the Federal Survey treated of applied geology, and in 1910 the percentage was 98. Considering it by decades: For the 10 years ending in 1895 the average of economic 1866 3893 1360 1808 1894 1696 1598 4009 oor 2904 1906 1908 1010 s, cw [| — we = a os : oH = oa é i om a? (Oe = = “=e. E od Ce 4 % ae es em hh Be we S&S & we Ee me he oe & Fig. 2,—PERCENTAGE OF TOTAL PUBLICATIONS or U. S. GEOLOGICAL SURVEY RELATING TO APPLIED GEOLOGY. papers was 11 per cent of the total number of publications; in the following decade, 71 per cent; and in the last 5 years, 92 per cent. These figures are not to be interpreted as evidence that pure science has not been recognized in these publications of the Federal survey. I have classed with the applied geology group all publications which treat in any measure of this subject, though many of them deal chiefly with problems of more purely scientific interest. For example, the geologic folios, which include some of the most notable contributions to pure science, are here included in the literature of applied geology. To me it is less surprising that nearly all the recent publications contain some practical deductions than that most of those of 20 years ago omitted all data of this kind. The marked tendency toward practical problems, as indicated by these figures, is by no means confined to one organization, for it is exhibited in the same degree by State surveys and is also reflected in the work of the universities. Nor is it limited to this continent, for countries as widely separated geographically and in scientific traditions as South America, Japan, and Germany show similar 332 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. signs. Everywhere geologic research of practical problems is receiv- ing more and more support, both publicly and privately. It is pertinent to consider the attitude of the public at large toward this economic tendency. There are undoubtedly those who believe that the direction of scientific work should rest entirely with the investigator and not with the people. Let them bear in mind that geologic investigations, since they involve heavy expenditures and trespass on private property, can, for the most part, be properly car- ried on only through Government agencies, in this differing from such sciences as chemistry, physics, or biology, which can be fur- thered by private means. If geologic surveys are properly a function of the State, in the last analysis the people must be the final arbiters as to what phase of the science is to be emphasized. In our democ- racy the citizen has a right to inquire what he, as a member of the body politic, is gaining by expenditures from the public purse. It is estimated, on the best data available, that during the past quarter century the total grants for geologic work made by State and Federal Governments aggregate over $8,000,000. This may be regarded as evidence of public confidence. More significant to the present discussion is the annual grant of funds during this interval, and this is illustrated by a curve on the same diagram with those showing character of publications (fig. 1). This curve is in part based on estimates, but these are without doubt sufliciently accurate to indicate that the total annual appropriations of State and Federal Governments for geology have been augmented at a rate which proves that they are affected by some other factor than that of in- crease of population. The annual grant of funds is now more than double that of 25 years ago. It is probably safe to interpret this as indicating that the present economic tendency in geology is approved by the people of the United States. The close parallelism between the lines marking the publications relating to applied geology and the annual allotments of public funds for geologic surveys is probably not entirely fortuitous. Perhaps the best measure of popular confidence in the results of geologic research is the number of different geologic organizations supported by public funds. We are apt to credit the obtaining of Government support for this or that research entirely to some indi- vidual or organization, forgetting that, until the general public has in a measure been persuaded of its value, all efforts would be useless. Therefore, when we find geologic surveys throughout the country supported by Commonwealths having widely different social and industrial conditions, it is fair to presume that the average citizen has acquired the belief that these are attaining results beneficial to the “mmunity. The numerical increase of State geologic surveys during tne ‘ast 25 years is illustrated by the curve on the diagram before you ; ee APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. oad which marks the percentage of total number of States supporting geologic work (fig. 1). In 1886, 24 per cent of the States had geo- logic surveys; in 1895 the percentage was 42, and in 1910, 80. This growing public interest is also manifested by the increase in geologic teaching at colleges and universities. I interpret the sta- tistics published by Prof. T. C. Hopkins as indicating that in 1886 there were about 220 of the higher institutions of learning in which geology was taught, while in 1894 there were 378. Of these, 51 had geology organized as a separate department. I have been unable to find any more recent. data on geologic education, but that it has made ereat strides in the last 17 years will be conceded by all. It will also be generaily admitted that the teaching of economic geology is receiv- ing constantly greater attention in the colleges and technical schools. More significant evidence of the present status of geology among the people is the fact of the large number of geologists now in private employment. There are many professional geologists who are engaged in consulting practice. Nearly every large mining company _ and many railways include in their personnel one or more geologists. In a commercial directory of mining experts recently published fully 10 per cent classed themselves as geologists, while an edition of the same directory issued 10 years ago included only one who claimed to be a geologist. While at that time, as now, many mining engineers were in fact professional geologists, they did not care to advertise the fact. All this indicates that applied geology has during the last two decades become a dominating element in our geologic work; also that this tendency toward industrial problems pervades all geologic inves- tigations, whether under Federal, State, or private auspices. Further- more, it has been made evident that this trend is not limited to the North American Continent, but is world-wide. It is clear, also, that since emphasis has been laid upon the economic side there has been a marked increase in the support given to geologic work, from which fact may be drawn the logical conclusion that the public indorses this policy. It does not necessarily follow that this dominating practical note in geology has made for the advancement of the science. Before discussing this important question it will be well to trace briefly the origin of geology as an applied science. It seems to be generally assumed that the application of geology to industry was not attempted until after its development into a more or less complete rational science. It can not be denied that the application of the principles of a science must await the estab- lishment of those principles through scientific inquiries. It is true, however, that long before geology had developed as a science men observed the geologic phenomena that bore on certain voca- tions and often correctly interpreted such observations. 334 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The science of applied geology, therefore, had its origm among those who, like the miners, were by vocation brought into inti- mate contact with natural phenomena. Many of the elementary facts relating to mineral deposits were forced on the attention of the miner, and as the correct interpretation of these facts added to his material welfare, some deductive reasoning was undoubtedly applied. The rudimentary conceptions thus formed were more likely to be correct than those of the early closet academician, whose science for generations began and ended in pure speculation. Therefore, to trace the origin of applied geology the oldest archives treating of mining, quarrying, agriculture, engineering, and mineral- ogy must be searched—a task which has been quite beyond me. And reaching far back of any written record was the traditional lore bearing on geologic phenomena of countless generations of miners and husbandmen. Even the man of the stone age must have sub- consciously acquired knowledge of the distribution of the materials which he fashioned into implements of the chase and war. If we are to allow our imagination full scope, we can conceive of some primitive economic geologist who, by finding a deposit of copper and revealing the superiority of the new material for weapons, became the hero of his tribe. While our Aryan ancestors appear to have been ignorant of the use of metals when they first invaded the Mediterranean countries, yet they acquired a knowledge of them from the Semitic races long before the dawn of history. In winning these metals primitive man used methods which required neither any high degree of tech- nical skill nor a knowledge of the form of their occurrence. Mining, being second only to agriculture in its importance to the human race, became more systematized with the progress of civilization. By the time historical records began the recovery of metals and the quarrying of building stones. were well-developed arts, and there is no reason to suppose that the mode of occurrence of the deposits exploited were ignored by those whose livelihood was involved. The rulers of this early period, keenly alive to the value of the metals, undoubtedly caused this source of wealth and power to be investigated by able men. It is recorded that Philip of Macedon evinced his interest in mining by examining in person some under- ground workings in Thrace. Jason’s search for the golden fleece pictures the prospector of those days as a national hero. In any event, it is certain that millions of ounces of gold and silver and many tons of copper, as well as tin and iron, had been produced centuries before the Christian era. We must believe that this production indicates a sufficiently developed industry to employ not only skilled artisans but also those who delved deeper into the problems of mining. The ancient Egyptians were eminently ee EEEEeEeeeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEEeee—eeeeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeee APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. ooo practical and developed a high degree of skill in certain branches of engineering. Undoubtedly the Egyptian engineers paid some heed to the distribution of building stones as.well as to methods of quarrying, while among other peoples who excelled in metal mining it is presumed there were engineers who specialized in mining matters, as do their successors of to-day. It is far easier to speculate on the knowledge the ancients may have had of some of the principles of applied geology than to trace the actual extent of this knowledge. Ancient Hebrew literature abounds in references to the metals and their utilization, but fur- nishes little clue as to what was known of them. The same is true of the records of ancient Egypt, in which both placer and lode gold are mentioned. One document that has come down to us shows that location of mineral wealth was considered worthy of note. An ancient papyrus, dating about 1350 B. C., displays a crude map for the purpose of locating Nubian gold mines. It is one of the oldest maps in existence and the first which can be said to impart geologic information. The oldest written record of geology or allied subjects is Theophrastus’s descriptions of metals, stones, and earths, dating back to 315 B.C. Pliny’s work of four centuries later seems to have been the first attempt at a complete treatise on minerals of economic importance, but he was more concerned in the utilization of the metals than in their mode of occurrence. Other of the ancient writers, notably Aristotle, touched on geologic subjects, but rather from the standpoint of speculative philosophy than of interest in material problems. Some of the early geographers and historians, like Strabo and Herodotus, discussed the geographical distribution or the exploitation of metals. Another field of applied geology is found in treatises on agriculture containing references to character and distribution of soils. Even Virgil in his Bucolics attempts a practical classification of soils. As this dwells on the physical rather than the chemical properties of soil, it would seem to have at least the merit of being in accord with some of the latest scientific maxims. I have dealt with this subject as if the nations of Europe and western Asia had alone made advances in technology. Mining and metallurgy, even in very early times, were important industries in - both India and China, and it is not unlikely that there may be in those countries a literature of practical geology which antedates our own. The meager records of the early period of mining give no clue to the knowledge of applied geology held by the ancients. But that they were not entirely ignorant of its principles is to be presumed from the importance of the mining industry, and the absence of written records does not argue against this theory. The same is true 336 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. of other arts. We do not assume, for example, that the principles of mechanics applied to structures were not understood because there were no written treatises on architecture until centuries after many periods of architecture had successively developed and declined. Scant as is the literature of mineralogy and mining up to the early part of the Christian era, the succeeding 10 or 12 centuries are almost entirely without records. This was the medieval period of intellec- tual stagnation—the eclipse of scientific and critical thought. The Arabs, who alone preserved the traditions of antiquity during this lapse, made considerable contributions to scientific knowledge, not neglecting mineralogy. Aside from this, there are only a few minor references to the subject in the chronicles of that time. While science was neglected in the Middle Ages, the arts con- tinued to progress, and among these mining was important. It is recorded that in Charlemagne’s time thousands of miners were ~ employed in the metal industry of northern Tyrol, and many other countries made notable contributions to the metallic wealth of the world. Coal mining began in England and Germany in the twelfth century. In fact, the mining industry assumed an importance which attests a high degree of administrative and technical skill. With the revival of learning in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, scholars began again to turn their attention to the natural sciences. At first they labored solely to verify and amplify the theories of the ancient writers, never doubting that the classical philosophers had encompassed the entire realm of human thought. Generations of scholars sought their science in the Greek and Roman literature. But with the Renaissance scholastic thought was freed, and then the first epoch of scientific geology began. The wide chasm which separated the academician from the technician at that time prevented any utilization of the great store of geologic facts accumulated by miners. The miner had neither education nor incentive to record the facts so laboriously collected; the scholar had yet to realize that nature must be studied by observation and deduction, not by speculation alone. The cosmogonist wrote his treatises on the origin of the world with his vision limited by academic walls, while the miner held his knowledge as important only for his need. Agricola was one of the first scholars to consider the practical problems of the miner. His works, published in the middle of the sixteenth century, show both keen observation and realization of the importance of applied geology. The German mining industry had at that time advanced sufficiently to have a large technical vocabulary of its own. But as Agricola wrote in Latin, he was forced to translate these technical terms as best he could. German mining methods and terminology must then have found wide accept- > — oe APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. 337 ance in Europe, for Pierre Belon, the French naturalist, recorded that in 1546 they were in use in the Thracian gold fields—then as now a part of the Ottoman Empire. In Agricola’s day there appeared a number of other treatises dealing with some phase of appled geology. These were mostly devoted to mineralogy, which was destined to become a science long before geology had passed beyond the speculative stage. Most of this early literature was in Latin and therefore calculated to have little influence on mining practice. It did, however, bring the scholar into closer touch with the phenomena of nature and thus pave the way for a rational science of geology. In the early history of the science pure and applied geology can be compared with two confluent rivers having widely separated sources—the one springing from the high realm of speculative philosophy, the other having a more lowly subterranean origin. These two streams of thought gradually drew together, for a space flowing side by side, and finally merged into one great stream. The following passage, written by Peter Martyr, in 1516, while describing the golden wealth of Hispaniola, reflects something of the status of geology in his day: They have found by experience that the Vein of gold is a living tree, and that the same by all ways spreadeth and springeth from the root, by the soft pores and pas- sages of the Earth, putteth forth branches, even to the uppermost part of the Earth; and ceaseth not until it discover itself unto the open air; at which time it sheweth forth certain beautiful colours in the stead of flowers, round stones of golden Earth in the stead of fruits, and thin plates in stead of leaves. ... For they think such grains are not engendered where they are gathered, especially on the dry land, but otherwise in the Rivers. They say that the root of the golden Tree extendeth to the center of the Earth, and there taketh nourishment of increase: for the deeper that they dig, they find the trunks thereof to be so much the greater, as far as they may follow it, for abundance of water springing in the Mountains. This fantastic account of gold deposits contains a sufficient kernel of truth to indicate that the writer had at least some comprehension of the form of auriferous veins and their relation to gold placers. One of the earliest recorded attempts of a practical application of geology is that of George Owen, a country squire of Wales, who about 1600 prepared a lengthy description of Pembrokeshire in which he discussed the occurrence of limestones and coal. He appears to have been the first to note the change of bituminous coal to anthracite. Owen’s practical purpose is made clear by the fol- lowing quotation from his writing: . it may be a guide to some parties to seek the lymestone where it yet lieth hidden and may save labours to others in seeking it where there is no possibility to find it. While men of the Agricola type were assembling and classifying observations on minerals and ore bodies, another group of scientists 338 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. was engaged in wordy wars about such problems as to whether fossils had been formed by the influence of stars or were the remnants of former living organisms. It is noteworthy that among the most rational contributions to this discussion, which continued over a century, were those of Leonardo da Vinci and Nicholas Steno, the first of whom based his arguments on his own observations as an engineer, while the second had some practical experience in the study of ore bodies. These two belonged to the class of scientists designated by John Webster in his History of Metals, published in 1671, as ‘experimental observers,”’ of whom he says: For either they were such as attended the mines, or went thither to converse with the workmen to inform themselves, or bore some office about those places, or were those that either for curiosities sake, or to enrich their knowledge, dia gather together all the minerals they could, or used the most of all these ways to gain understanding. And therefore I commend these above all the rest before named, to be read and studied of all officers and men belonging to any mineral or metallick works; and of all young students and beginners that seek after mineral knowledge: because these authors speak not altogether by opinion, fancie, and conjecture; but forth of their own experi- ence, and the experience of those that were conversant about the mines, and getting of ore, and purifying and refining of them; and therefore more certain to be relyed upon for leaders and teachers. And more, because they have written what they knew, openly and plainly as the subject would bear; and not in parables, and znig- matical expressions. This treatise contains, amid much that now appears childish, some practical hints for the discovery of ore bodies. Webster laments the almost universal ignorance of this subject, which he accounts for as follows: That the way and means to discover the nature of minerals, is not onely difficult and dangerous, but in itself is so sordid, base and troublesome, that the most men of parts, will hardly adventure themselves into the pits or shafts where ores are usually gotten; nor can indure to stay so long, that they can rightly inform themselves of any- thing that may be satisfactory to their inquiries. And the Miners or Workmen (for the most part) being but people of the most indigent sort, and such as whose knowledge and aims reach no higher than to get a poor living by that slavish labour, regard to inform themselves of no more then what may conduce to such a poor and servile kind of living; by which means they are little able to give any learned man satisfaction to those necessary inquiries that might tend to enable him to judge rightly of the nature of the things in that subterraneous kingdom. The prejudice of the scholar against learning from the miner, so quaintly described by Webster, gradually died out in the eighteenth century. Thereby the science profited much, through acquiring a better groundwork of fact, while, on the other hand, technology derived assistance from applied science. Even before Werner’s day a number of mining officials discussed in print the occurrence of min- eral deposits. As a result of this better understanding between the scientist and the practical man geology developed from a condition of pure speculation into a science which approached the rational and APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. 339 - concrete. It need hardly be added that the advances made in chem- istry, physics, and biology were essential to this progress. By the latter part of the eighteenth century conceptions of strati- graphy began to take definite form. In this field, again, the miner to a certain extent forestalled the scholar, for he had recognized that locally, at least, the earth crust was built up of superimposed strata having a definite order. He had also noted that this order was some- times interrupted by breaks and in the underground workings had opportunity to grasp some details of tectonic geology. The advancement of science and arts toward the end of the eight- eenth century had been such as to create a demand for trained engineers. In the field of technical education mining was given the first recognition, for the school at Freiberg was established in 1765, 20 years before the existence of schools of any other branch of engi- neering, except those devoted to military science. This school was to have a world-wide effect on geology, through the influence of Werner, the first great teacher of the science. The founding of other mining schools followed rapidly, indicating a need throughout con- tinental Europe for trained mining engineers. With the exception of Freiberg none of these schools gave special heed to science, but their establishment was of great importance to applied geology, as it gave definite recognition to the fact that mining was to be directed by engineers and not by artisans. The advent of the trained mining engineer was of first importance, for on him was to fall much of the work of advancing the new science. On the Continent mining was chiefly carried on by or under the direct supervision of the State, and the need of properly trained engineers was probably the chief reason why technical mining edu- cation began before other branches of engineering. In England, on the other hand, mining was mostly a matter of private enter- prise, and technical education lagged far behind the Continent. The men entrusted with the direction of mining affairs seem to have been drawn from the practical school of experience and were known as mineral surveyors. To this class belonged William Smith, the founder of stratigraphic geology. Worthy of note also is John Williams, a mineral surveyor, who preceded Smith by one generation. Williams was a Welshman, who was bred as a miner, served as a soldier under the Dutch flag, and held various responsible positions in the coal and lead mining industries. In 1789 he published a Natural History of the Mineral Kingdom, which is remarkable for expressing some of the modern views on applied geology. It contains a large number of accurate observations, notably on coal and lead deposits. In discussing ore deposits Williams suggests a probable genetic relation between 340 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. intrusive dikes and mineral veins. Unfortunately for Williams’s — standing as a scientist, he considered it necessary -to present : theory accounting for all geologic phenomena and to show the errors in Hutton’s conclusions, which had then just appeared. Inasmuch as Williams treated coal deposits quantitatively, he was far ahead of his generation. He pointed out that coal beds are definitely limited, and this at about the time that Werner was preparing to launch his theory of ‘‘Universal formations.” A few quotations from his book will serve to illustrate Williams’s attitude: The result of his investigation refutes by inference another erroneous opinion concerning coal, which I have often heard asserted with great confidence, viz., that coal in inexhaustible. That the fund of coal treasured up in the superfices of the globe, for the accommodation of society, is very great, I readily acknowledge; but that it is inexhaustible, in the proper sense of the word, If deny. If our coals really are not inexhaustible, the rapid and lavish consumpt of them calls aloud for the attention of the Legislature, because the very existence of the metropolis depends upon the continued abundance of this precious fossil, and not only the metropolis, but also the existence of the other cities and great towns, and of the most fertile countries in the three kingdoms, depend upon the abundance of this valuable article; and moreover, most of our valuable manufactures are in the same predicament, and, therefore, if our coal mines are not inexhaustible, it is high time to look into the real state of our collieries. I feel in myself a strong reluctance against sounding the alarm to my country in a matter of so much importance. I am but an obscure individual of very little conse- quence in the world, and I have not the least doubt that I shall be severely censured by many for my presumption, and therefore I proceed with sensible remorse; but it is not guilty remorse; on the contrary, my heart tells me, that were I to temporize with my own feelings of reluctance, and to conceal a truth which so nearly concerns the welfare of the community, for fear of incurring censure, my silence would be unpardonable. The present rage for exporting coals to other nations may aptly be compared to a careless spendthrift, who wastes all in his youth, and then heavily drags on a wretched life to miserable old age, and leaves nothing for his heirs. While Williams’s dire prophesies, made a century and quarter — ago, of the early exhaustion of England’s coal have not been jus- tified, yet he seems to have been one of the first to urge upon public attention the close relation between the prosperity of a nation and its fuel supply. He was also a pioneer in recommending governmental surveys and investigations of mineral resources. After pointing out the value of the Cape Breton and other coals in the British North American possessions and recommending their development, he goes on to say: 3 In discussing this topic, we presume to suggest, that, in the first place, it is necessary for Government to explore and discover éhibse coals, and lay them bare for the inspec- _ tion of British coal masters or companies, and with this view, the first thing to be done, re is to employ a prudent man of abilities and skill in the theory and practice of the coal a business; to survey the West India coals and coal fields; to make such trials upon — the coals already discovered, and those he may discover, as may be necessary “i APPLIED GEOLOGY BROOKS. 341 ascertain the thickness, quality, and situation of each stratum of coal that may be judged worth attention; and to make out a full and substantial report of all the material circumstances relating to each coal, for the information and use of Government, and of such gentlemen and companies as may wish to look into this interesting subject. These recommendations for governmental surveys of mineral resources were made a generation before they were followed and fully half a century before the nations of the world were generally to accept the principle. Williams also touches on some of the prob- lems which absorb us to-day. After advocating the investigation of the colonial coal fields, he says, in words which have a familiar ring: When this report is made and considered by Government, suitable encouragement should be offered to gentlemen and to companies of character, stock, and abilities for such undertakings, to open and work some of these coals. : The first undertakers should be allowed a sufficiently extensive coal field, and every reasonable privilege and indulgence; but they should not have a monopoly. Other adventurers should have room to employ their skill and capitals in this line of business in the west as well as in Britain. Monopolies seldom do much good. The views of monopolists are always too selfish and confined to be of extensive utility and public benefit. While Williams was among the first to recommend governmental mineral surveys, the idea of showing mineral deposits on maps appears to have been a part of a plan for soil maps conceived by Martin Lister a century before, and put into practice by Guettard in 1746. Sir Archibald Geikie has credited the first geologic map to this eminent French naturalist, but has not sufficiently emphasized the fact that Guettard’s map also showed the distribution of mines and mineral deposits. Others followed his example, and before the close of the eighteenth century the cartographic representation of geology and mineral deposits had become well established. The nineteenth century opened during the epoch of intellectual freedom which followed the turmoil of the French Revolution. The time was favorable to the progress of science. The scholar felt free to follow scientific inquiries to their logical conclusions untrammeled by the interdict of authority. Nowhere was this more true than in the field of geology, for, notwithstanding the efforts of dogmatic theology for upward of half a century to dominate geologic thought, its edicts could hamper the growth of the science but little. Further incentive sprang from the development of new political ideals. As the Nation began to concern itself with the needs of the individual citizen the application of science to human needs was encouraged. Under the old régime, so long as the wants of the ruling classes were supplied no thought was given to the wants of the masses. When this attitude was changed it was natural to seek the aid of the scientist in ameliorating conditions. Therefore the dawn of the new century was propitious not only to the advancement of pure science, but also to a general appreciation of applied science. 85360°—sm 1912——23 342 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Nowhere were conditions for the evolution of geologic science better than in our own land. Being far removed from the con- troversies which occupied the sole attention of many European geologists, we could accept or reject without prejudice this or that theory. Our people had entered upon the exploitation of a new land, with boundless possibilities of natural wealth, and pioneer conditions brought most of them into intimate contact with natural phenomenon. Books of travel written in the early part of the century bear witness that a close observation of geologic facts was forced upon every traveler. A general interest in science and its application was prevalent in America, even in colonial times. This was reflected in the scientific and practical character of educational ideals. In its first advertise- ment, issued in 1754, Columbia College (then called King’s) provided for the instruction of youths— in the arts of numbering and measuring; of surveying and navigation; of geography and history; of husbandry, commerce, and government, and in the knowledge of all nature in the heavens above us and in the air, water, and earth around us, and in the various kinds of meteors, stones, mines, and minerals, plants and animals, and every- thing useful for the comfort, the convenience and elegance of life; and in the chief manufactures of these things. This was half a century before the idea of scientific and technical instruction had taken root in European countries. In the period extending from 1768 to 1811 chairs of chemistry were established in 11 colleges of the United States. In 1824 the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute was founded—the first school of applied science in any English-speaking country. The avowed aim of this school was to apply ‘‘sciences to the common purposes of life.” Van Rensselaer, who founded it, was a patron of geologic science, and Haton, the geologist, its first president. Geology had, however, received recognition in several American colleges long before the founding of the Rensselaer Institute. Accord- ing to Prof. Hopkins there were 31 American colleges which offered courses in geology previous to 1845. Of these, one began teaching geology in 1804, one in 1807, one in 1819, and one in each of the years from 1820 to 1845. The large number of scientific societies founded at this time shows the widespread interest of the people in science. Nearly every town had its lyceum of natural history, while the larger cities boasted of academies of science and similar associations, of which several have survived to the present day. In 1819 the Ameri- can Geological Society was organized—only 12 years after the found- ing of the Geological Society of London and nearly 30 years before that of the Deutsch Geologische Gesellschaft. Numerous journals devoted to science and art were established during the period under discussion. While some of these were only short lived they attest the interest in science of the American people. APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. 343 Another example of this interest is found in the course of lectures on natural history which, according to Dr. Merrill, were delivered before the New York State Legislature by Amos Eaton in 1818. This is probably the only instance in our history where a body of law makers have welcomed serious instruction in scientific matters. Most of the collegiate instruction and the scientific societies had for their purpose the promoting of knowledge in pure rather than applied geology, but it was in the latter that geology really had the support of the American people. One far-reaching influence on the develop- ment of applied geology in the early part of the last century was the scarcity of mining engineers or experienced operators, while the voca- tion of prospecting was almost nonexistent. Our mining industry was in the early stages and there were almost no engineers and but few so-called practical men to whom the people could turn for informa- tion. In Huropean countries, on the other hand, centuries of mining had developed a class of professional men other than geologists who were considered authorities on mineral wealth. But in our own country it was the scientist rather than the engineer or the practical miner who was called upon for information. This not only led to the utilization of science in the preliminary work of seeking mineral deposits, but also had the effect of forcing the scientists to give their investigations a practical turn. Hither from choice or necessity, the early American geologists, like their successors of to-day, always emphasized in their work the needs of the community. McClure devoted much of the brief text which accompanied his geologic map of the eastern United States to the relation of geology to agriculture. Eaton’s first work bore on the resources of the region adjacent to the Erie Canal. Rodgers elucidated the structure of the coal fields, while Jackson attempted a classification of the public lands of the State of Maine. T venture the opinion that one reason why the investigators of this continent have accomplished so much for the advancement of geology is that their research has never been entirely divorced from the field of applied science. We have had no distinct schools of pure and applied geology, as there were until recently in other lands. In Hurope there was the practical school of the miner, whose scientific conception seldom reached beyond his immediate environment; and there was the school of the scholar, whose angle of vision was apt to be too wide to focus on facts near at hand. There were, indeed, some exceptions, for the scholar Agricola learned from the miner; Werner’s teaching was, in theory at least, an application of geology to the mineral industry; and William Smith used his knowledge of stratigraphy in the practice of his engineering profession. Even in Kurope the distinction between the work of these two schools has now almost disappeared. 344 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The general interest and faith in science during the early history of our country is well exemplified in the attitude of public men. Our first two presidents, in spite of the fact that they differed greatly in temperament and experience, showed more interest im scientific work than almost any of their successors. Washington’s traming as an explorer, surveyor, and planter and his close connection with the beginnings of the iron industry is perhaps sufficient to account for his attitude toward science. He is probably the only President who, by his own efforts, attempted to advance applied science. While President he started an investigation of the sous of the Eastern States through personal correspondence. More important, however, was the work of Jefferson, in bringing about the establishment of the chair of chemistry at the University of Virginia, thereby introducing scientific teaching into this country. He also discussed the mineral resources of Virginia in his book on that Commonwealth, wrote, while Vice President, geologic paper, and, above all, inaugurated that, system of exploration and investigation of the trans-Mississippian region which was to yield such fruitful results in the century to follow. John Adams, while he took no personal part in promoting scientific research, manifested interest in it by helping to establish the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. A review of the conditions which brought about the rapid growth of geologic work in this country during the first decades of the nine- teenth century can not fail to consider the political and industrial situation. 'The War of 1812 had united as one nation the Common- wealths which up to that time, in spite of the federation, had strong centrifugal tendencies. During the war with Great Britain New England had been on the verge of rebellion, while the trans-Appa- lachian region was not held to the East by any strong bonds. The country, rent by domestic quarrels and the turmoil of opposing political factions, paid small heed to the problems of industry and commerce. After the war the people thought less about State rights and more about industrial prosperity. There was no longer a French party or an English party, but men of all political faiths had come to the conclusion that we must work out our own salvation. We had learned to supply our own material needs during the war, when English frigates cut off European sources of supply. In short, the Nation had found itself and was ready to begin to harvest the re- sources of the vast territory which the war had settled for all time was to be our own. Our people, while possessing the self-confidence of the pioneer, were facing new problems, and, guided by their sci- entific instincts, turned to the scientist for help. In spite of the fact that the war had developed a relatively strongly centralized Federal Government, yet our political theory was still APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. 345 one of State rights. Moreover, the Republicans were in power, with a hopelessly small Federalist minority. It was natural, therefore, that the people, loyal to their political faith, should turn to the Com- monwealths for aid in developing the new land. This aid for the most part took the form of large grants for public improvement of transportation facilities—at first for canals and wagon roads, later for railways. During the period ending with 1838 the States bor- rowed sums aggregating over $160,000,000 for purposes of public improvement. Compared with this sum, the expenditures for geologic surveys were small. It is a significant fact, however, that in 1838 a larger percentage of the States supported geologic surveys than in any subsequent year until 1898. This is graphically illustrated in figure 8. ‘The upper curve shows the total number of States and the lower the percentage of total number which supported geologic sur- veys between 1826 and 1910. The very rapid increase in State surveys is all the more significant when compared with the status of governmental surveys in Europe. 1873 i=4 o ° ° g 2 =] ” 2 © ° = = is cd °o reg 2 2° S = = 2 is 1880 1885 Fig. 3.—TO?TAL NUMBER AND PERCENTAGE OF TOTAL NUMBER OF STATES SUPPORTING GEOLOGIC WORK, 1825 To 1910. Though much geologic work was done in European countries during the early part of the century, it was not until about the middle that the Governments began organizing systematic surveys. England led by establishing her survey in 1832. Next came surveys of Austria- Hungary and Spain, organized in 1849, of Bavaria in 1851, and France in 1855. Most European countries did not undertake systematic geologic surveys until about 1860, or more than 20 years after our first maxima of State surveys had been reached. As already indicated, the principal influence that led to this first era of State surveys, as Dr. Merrill has called it, was the widespread interest in scientific investigations and the great industrial advance- ment which created a demand for the practical results of such investi- gations. A good example of the faith the people had in applied geology is found in the first geological survey made in Georgia, which was paid for by landowners of two counties—a condition that has never been re- peated until recently in some of the rich mining districts of the West. 346 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Another reason for the large number of State grants for geologic work lay in the general westward movement of population from the Atlantic States. This had a twofold effect on geologic surveys. Virst, it gave rise to a demand for information about the new lands, and second, it put the older States on their mettle to hold their popu- lation. So rapid was the westward movement that the Atlantic States became alarmed for their future. In 1815 and 1816 the legis- latures of both North Carolina and Virginia appointed committees to devise means for checking the drain on their population. This was unquestionably the motive in establishing many of the Eastern State surveys and in directing their activities toward agricultural problems. Meanwhile the Federal Government had undertaken the inves- tigation of the resources of the unorganized western Territories. The chief purpose seems to have been a classification of the public lands—a work which was to be interrupted for over half a century and then resumed as the proper function of Federal geologists. According to Dr. Merrill! the first epoch of State surveys declined even more rapidly than it arose, due largely to the financial crisis of 1837. An era of promotion, inflation, and straining of State credits to their uttermost, accompanied by a waste of the borrowed millions and the lack of any sound Federal financial policy, resulted in a money panic, the collapse of many ill-advised enterprises, the repudiation of their public debts by several of the States, and a widespread commercial depression. It is no wonder that, under these conditions, geologic surveys were regarded as luxuries that might well be spared; particularly since these first governmental surveys, it must be admitted, hardly justified themselves from the standpoint of practical results. This fact does not detract from the credit due the pioneer geologists who carried on these surveys under almost insuperable difficulties. They learned much about areal distribution of the larger geologic units, but most of the investi- gations were not detailed enough to yield results of practical value. Moreover, even tm that day many geologists were still livmg in ‘‘flat land’’—they considered formations in only the two horizontal dimensions; for while the vertical element was by no means ignored, it was not clearly understood. During the decade following the panic, few States had surveys, and no great progress was made in the science beyond the publica- tion of results attamed m the previous era. Though the contribu- tions to geologic literature by the class of professional geologists— whose appearance was perhaps the most important result of the activity of the previous decade—were not unimportant, yet as a whole both pure and applied science were at a rather low ebb. 1 The extensive use IT have made of ‘‘Contributions to the History of American Geology,” by G. P. Merrill, Washington, 1904, will be evident to all who have read that work. APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. 347 The panic was but a temporary check to the industries, however. The estimated production of pig iron was 347,000 tons in 1840, and 600,000 in 1850, while the coal production during the same period increased from 2,000,000 to 7,000,000 tons, and the railway mileage from 2,818 to 9,021. These industrial advancements were accom- panied by the rapid settlement of the Middle West, by the beginnings of copper mining in Michigan in 1844, and of iron mining in Michigan and Missouri in 1853, and most important of all, the discovery of gold in California in 1848. All this activity gave a new impetus to geologic work, which is reflected in the revival of interest in State surveys. At this time, too, men began to dream of a transcontinental railway, and therefore the Federal Government undertook a more systematic exploration of the western cordilleran region than had previously been made. The curve of State surveys, as seen in the diagram, continued to rise until the outbreak of the Civil War. In this second epoch of geologic work the States of the Middle West— then the frontier—led. This was but natural, because history has proved geology always appealed more strongly to the picneer than to any other class of people. It is difficult to measure the accomplishment of this second period of geologic activity under State and Federal auspices, owing to its abrupt termination by the Civil War, which interrupted many important investigations. One fact stands out clearly: That applied geology was the mainspring of most of the research, and the results indicate that pure science had not been the loser thereby. The prosperous time following the Civil War in the North and West, with its almost unique industrial advancement, again centered public interest on mineral resources. This caused the Federal Gov- ernment to resume explorations in the West, which took the form of areal geologic surveys and in some cases detailed study of mineral deposits. Many States undertook similar work, and the curve of geologic surveys arose until the interruption by the panic of 1873. The results thus attained proved a final justification of geology, not only as an intellectual pursuit, but also as a practical aid to mankind. While the immediate benefits of these investigations were large, they were not so important as the institution of geologic mapping, based on accurate mensuration. Crude as those maps were compared with the present standards of refinement, they represent the earliest general attempt in this country to apply engineering methods to geologic problems. It was very unfortunate that this first epoch of engineering geology, as it might be called, was so soon interrupted and the work practically discontinued for over a decade. The people were, in fact, hardly educated up to an appreciation of its value; moreover, the natural resources that could be readily exploited 348 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. without the aid of science were so extensive that the time was hardly ripe to make full use of this new geology. We have seen that the period following the Civil War was especially favorable to the development of applied geology. The same is true of pure science. This, in fact, has been the history of geology in this country—advances in pure science were always in more or less direct proportion to advances made in the applied science. It has been shown that, in the early history of the Nation, the genius of the American people was essentially scientific. A deep interest was felt both in the facts and deductions of science, and in the affairs of life deference was paid to the opinion of the investigator. Unfortunately, for reasons which are difficult to fathom, this scientific attitude gradually declined. At the beginning of our national exist- ence we were in close contact with the intellectual life of Europe, which was then essentially scientific. This gave us our first intel- lectual stimulus and led us to do our full share of the work of advanc- ing both pure and applied science. Then came an interim between the time when we forsook the intellectual standards of the Old World and before we fully established those of our own. Meanwhile, the opening of a continent, with its unbounded resources, was calculated to bring out the characteristic efficiency and self-reliance of the aver- age American. Then gradually developed what may be called the era of the “practical man’’—an era characterized essentially by unscientific thought among the mass of the people. The “practical man” now became a national fetish, and the people, overlooking the fact that his suecess was due to energy and opportunity, attributed it rather to the absence of technical and scientific knowledge. Nowhere was this national trait better shown than in the mineral industry, where the era of the ‘‘ practical man” cost the Nation untold millions. His distrust of applied science was deep-rooted. For a generation every mining community swarmed with these self-styled experts, whose technical and scientific limitations were only exceeded by their blatant self-assertion. Unfortunately, at this time there also developed between the geologist and the mining engineer an antagonism which was detri- mental to the advances of the science. A school of geology arose which revived to a certain extent the ancient practice of specula- tion without observation and regarded itself as moving in a higher intellectual sphere than that of the engineer, who dealt with practical problems. On the other hand, many engineers came to regard all work of the geologist as either visionary or purely speculative. Since the rise of the modern school of applied geology, which may be said to have begun in the eighties, this antagonism between the engineer and the geologist has gradually disappeared. The geologist has made his results of more value by adopting some of the methods APPLIED GEOLOGY BROOKS. 349 of the engineer, while the engineer no longer hesitates to use geology in his own field. Both professions have been improved by this mu- tual help, and the geologist has by no means gained the least. The modern mining engineer now recognizes that, even in his own special field, scientific investigations are essential. This is evidenced by the general hearty support given by engineers to the new Federal Bureau of Mines. It is not necessary to describe in detail the recent progress in applied geology. While most of the countries of the world have taken part, it is a field that the American geologist has made peculiarly his own. Among our important contributions in this field is the geology of mineral oils, presented by Mr. Campbell to this society last year. In this, as in the survey of coal deposits, stratigraphic and structural geology have almost come to be exact sciences. Equally important to to the Nation are the results achieved in underground water investi- gations. The tectonics of mineral veins now also approaches an exact science; while many of the conclusions on the genesis of ore bodies, notably that of secondary enrichment, are among the tri- umphs of applied geology. Moreover, the field is bemg extended. In Germany the work of the geologist is regarded almost as essential to railway or canal location as that of the engineer—a lesson we have only recently learned at Panama. The investigations of soils is now a distinct science, based largely on applied geology. Questions of public health, such as purity of water and sanitation problems, also in part fall in the domain of the geologist. A significant phase of the new epoch in applied geology is its con- tributions to political economy. A striking example of this is the geologic survey of Korea, executed by the Japanese during their war with Russia. It need hardly be said that this was not made for the purpose of advancing geologic knowledge, but solely to gain a scientific valuation of the land which was costing so much blood and treasure. Though the present status of the science does not permit of a quantitative determination of resources which is more than ap- proximate, yet the fact that geologists are being called upon by politi- cal economists for assistance indicates how fundamentally the science affects the welfare of the Nation. This historical survey of applied geology, in which special emphasis has been laid on its progress in this country, seems to point to sev- eral conclusions. First, that much of the modern science of geology originated in the field of applied science. It was the striving of man- kind to solve problems of material welfare that gave the first impulse to geologic thought. Second, that, as a rule, the science has made most rapid strides at those times when its study was inspired by a desire to achieve some practical end. Whenever geology has become 350 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. entirely divorced from industry it has drifted toward pure specula- tion. ‘The geologists of the past, like those of the present, received much of their inspiration from the fact that they were adding to the material welfare of mankind. Werner, Humboldt, Von Buch, De la Beche were not only trained as mining engineers, but continued for most of their careers to be intimately connected with the mining industry. Desmarest devoted most of his life to promoting the indus- trial advancement of France. William Smith was an engineer before he was a geologist, and even Hutton knew from personal experience the value of applying the sciences of agriculture and chemistry. On this continent McClure, Eaton, Rodgers, Owen, Leslie, Logan, Whitney, Orton, Cook, Dawson, and King, with a host of others, were all identified with the industria! application of their science. The elder Silliman, in an account of his own training in geology, said, ‘‘I learned in the mining districts how and what to observe.” The years that Dana spent on explorations may be counted in the field of applied geology. James Hall, for two generations the leader in American geology and the founder of that organization which for three-quarters of a cen- tury has preserved the highest scientific ideals, gained his early inspiration in studying practical problems. An enumeration of the leading geologists of the present generation will, I think, show that the larger part have given much attention to the material application of geology. The recent economic trend of geology is only a counterpart of similar tendencies in most fields of scientific research. The intro- duction of science into practical affairs is a feature of the present age. It has come about not only because as the sciences progressed their results were more directly applicable to material problems, but more specially because of the gradually changing conditions through- out the world. With a sparse population and abundance of natural resources the need of applied science is never so evident as when the lands become crowded and the more readily accessible resources depleted. The people of a virgm land need pay small heed to ex- haustion of soil or destruction of forests, and can carry on shallow mining operations with little recourse to science or technology. It is only when increasing population results in a demand for a greater food supply and makes sanitation important, when the depletion of timber becomes a factor in cost of structures, and the superficial deposits can no longer yield sufficient minerals, that the need of scientific knowledge becomes strongly emphasized. This stage has been reached in most of the civilized countries of the world to a greater or less extent, and the evils of relative overpopulation and depletion of nature’s wealth are resulting in an appeal to applied science. China stands alone among the great nations of the world in not utilizing scientific thought to better the conditions of her > APPLIED GEOLOGY—BROOKS. 351 people. The present turmoil in China can probably be interpreted, in the last analysis, as a protest agamst the affairs of state being guided by the classicist rather than by the scientist. While we may criticize China for not accepting the dictum of science, we have only recently departed from a similar attitude, though our abundant resources have made our own faults less con- spicuous. In this respect the present generation has made greater strides than all that preceeded. We are now applying science to the affairs of the Nation as never before. The old-fashioned publicist, with his classical education or, at least, traditions, 1s being shouldered out of the way by the man who analyzes the problems of public wel- fare on scientific principles. The trained investigator is being more and more appealed to in the affairs of the Nation. In this we are following Germany, whose long leadership in pure science has now been overshadowed by her leadership in applied science. We have begun to realize that it is one thing to win prosperity and happiness out of the bounty of a new land, another to gain it by utilizing re- sources which can only be made available by scientific genius. Mr. Gilbert has said that ‘‘pure science is fundamentally the creature and servant of the material needs of mankind.” Yet it is not uncommon to find the devotee of pure science assuming that his field is on a higher plane than that of those studying problems which involve the material welfare of the human race. This seems specially true in the field of geology. Ifa bacteriologist finds a new toxin for a disease germ, a botanist a new food plant, a sanitary engineer a measure for preserving human life, all unite in commending his work. Yet there are not a few geologists, though I believe a constantly de- creasing number, who seem to view with suspicion any attempt to make the science of geology more useful. Those who are devoting themselves to economic geology are charged with commercializing the science, as if the applying of its principles to better the conditions of the people were not the highest use to which scientific research could be put. One reason for this attitude is because much which has been masquerading as applied geology is not science at all. The commercial exploitation of natural resources under the cloak of geology is not to be confounded with geologic research that has for its aims the application of scientific principles to the needs of man. The geologist who is studying the resources of the public domain to the end that a sound policy may be adopted for their utilization, or he who is gaging the exhaustion of our mineral wealth by studying statistics of production, is doing his share of scientific work no less than he who is engaged in the more pleasing task of evolving new geologic principles. ‘The masters of the science have not hesitated to turn their attention to economic problems. Clarence King deserves 352 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. no less credit for his aid in opening up the West by economic investiga- tions than for his contributions to knowledge on the age of the earth. We think of Maj. Powell as one of the founders of physiographic geology, but his memory will live rather for employing science to make available the latent fertility of the arid regions of the West. Surely no one will charge King or Powell with commercializing their science. As I see it, there lies no danger in the present trend toward applied geology, provided our applied geology rests on a broad basis of scientific research. If the spring of pure science is cut off, the stream of applied geology must soon run dry. There is no field of pure geology which ‘will not yield results applicable to questions of material welfare. On the other hand, any* given investigation in applied geology may lead to problems of paleontology, petrography, geo- physics, or other branches of pure science. In view of the pressing demand for results, we are justified in giving precedence to those fields of investigation which promise the earliest returns of material value. There is, however, grave danger that, carried away by the present furor for practical results, we may lose sight of our scientific ideals. Applied geology can only maintain its present high position of usefulness by continuing the researches which advance the knowl- edge of basic principles. Future progress in applied geology depends on progress in pure geology. THE RELATIONS OF PALEOBOTANY TO GEOLOGY.’ By Dr. F. H. Know ron, United States Geological Survey. Although there is vague mention of fossil plants in literature as early as the thirteenth century, and unscientific adumbrations in the faintly growing twilight of the succeeding centuries, the real science of paleobotany did not have its beginning until well on in the nineteenth century. With the publication, in 1828, of Brongni- art’s ‘‘Histoire des végétaux fossiles”’ and the ‘‘ Prodrome,” there was given to paleobotany ‘‘that powerful impetus which found its imme- diate recognition and called into its service a large corps of colaborers with Brongniart, rapidly multiplying its literature and increasing the amount of material for its further study” (Ward). In the succeeding decades, even to the close of the century, the students of paleobotany were mainly occupied in accumulating data as regards distribution, both areal and vertical, and the opening decades of the present: cen- tury find the subject a recognized, respected, coequal part of the general field of paleontology. Paleobotany, together with all the other branches of paleontology, admits of subdivision into two lines or fields of study—the biological and the geological—depending upon the prominence given to the one or the other of these phases of the subject. The biological study is, of course, concerned especially with the evolution of the vegetable kingdom, that is, with the tracing of the lines of descent through which the living flora has been developed. As this side of the ques- tion will be taken up by other contributors to this discussion, it may be dismissed from further consideration, as the geological aspect is almost exclusively the phase of the subject to which the present paper is devoted. In the first place it will be necessary to call attention to the fact that the successful use of fossils of any kind as stratigraphic marks is—or at least may be—entircely independent of their correct bio- logical interpretation. ‘To most botanists, and indeed to some paleo- botanists, this statement will doubtless come as a surprise, since they have come to imagine that the impressions of plants, the form 1 Reprinted by permission from The American Naturalist, vol. 46, April, 1912. 353 354 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. in which they are most made use of in this connection, are so indefi- nite, indistinct, and unreliable that they can not be allocated bio- logically with even reasonable certainty, and hence are of little or no value. As a matter of fact hardly anything could be further from the truth, and it can be confidently stated that it makes not the slightest difference to the stratigraphic geologist whether the fossils upon which he most relies are named at all, so long as the hori- zon whence they come is known and they are clearly defined and capable of recognition under any and all conditions. They might almost as well be referred to by number as by name, so long as they fill the requirements above demanded, though of course every strati- graphic paleontologist seeks to interpret to the very best of his knowledge the fossils he studies. He may—doubtless often does— make mistakes in his attempts to understand them, but his errors are undoubtedly fewer than he is not infrequently charged with. His faculty of observation is rendered acute from the close study of the restricted and often fragmentary material available, and he has learned to see and make use of characters which are often. overlooked or wholly neglected by the botanist. The latter, even when he has before him the complete living plant, including root, stem, and foliar and reproductive organs, sometimes experiences difficulty in cor- rectly placing his subject, and, to judge from some recent work, there are paleobotanists who study only the internal structure of fossil plants and yet are beset with extreme difficulty in mterpreting their biological! significance. It may then be taken as settled that the needs of the stratigraphic geologist will be met if he is supplied with a series of marks or tokens by which he may unfailingly identify the various geological horizons with which he deals, while to the historical geologist who makes use of fossils in unraveling the succession of geological events the correct biological identification is of the greatest importance, for upon this rests his interpretation of the succession of faunas and floras that have inhabited the globe. As the late Dr. C. A. White has said, “Tf fossils were to be treated only as mere tokens of the respective formations in which they are found, their biological classification would be a matter of little consequence, but their broad signification in historical geology, as well as in systematic biology, renders it necessary that they be classified as nearly as possible in the manner that living animals and plants are classified.’ While it is in no way desired to overlook or underestimate the biologic value of such fossil plants as have fortunately retained their internal structure in condition for successful study, it is probably safe to say that theirvalue to geology as compared with the impres- sions of plants is as 1 to 1,000, and had we only the former there never could have been developed the science of stratigraphic paleo- PALEOBOTANY AND GEOLOGY-——KNOWLTON. ay) botany. For example, the collections of the United States National Museum embrace over 100,000 specimens of the impressions of Paleozoic plants, whereas of those showing internal structure there is hardly a half dozen unit trays full. In the Mesozoic and Cenozoic collections belonging to the same institution there are thousands upon thousands of specimens from hundreds of localities and horizons, while of those retaining their internal structure there are so few that they can almost be numbered in tens. There is another and an excellent practical reason why the impres- sions of plants are, and will always remain, of more value to geology than those exhibiting internal structure, no matter how well this structure may be preserved. As soon as a plant impression is ex- humed it is instantly ready for study and may be interrogated at once as to the stratigraphic story it has to tell, whereas the plant with the structure preserved usually shows little or nothing on a, superficial examination, and requires laborious, expensive prepara- tion before it can be identified. For example—to make a personal application—for the past five years I have annually studied and reported on from 500 to 700 collections, each of which embraced from one to hundreds of individuals, and with them have helped the geolo- gists to fix perhaps 50 horizons im a dozen States. If it had been necessary to cut sections of these specimens before the geologist could have had his answer, it is safe to say that very little would have been accomplished. All fossil plants must be interpreted by and through the living flora. In the more recent geological horizons the plants are naturally found to be most closely related to those now living, but as we proceed backward in time the resemblances grow less and less, and finally we find ourselves in the presence of floras a large percentage of which are without known or clearly recognized living representatives. In describing these and making them available for stratigraphic use it has been necessary to give them generic and specific names, after the analogy of the living floras, so that we may have convenient handles by which to use them. Many of these are confessedly what may be called genera of convenience, such, for example, being many of the genera of the so-called “ferns” of the Paleozoic. Some—but especially botanists—unfamiliar with the geological use of fossil plants have argued that it is unsafe, or even actually unwise, to venture to give names, not only to those without living representa- tives, but even to those obviously belonging to living groups. A reply to this objection seems unnecessary in view of what has been said. The practical application of fossil plants as an aid to geology may be briefly mentioned. There have been described from—let us say— North America, upwards of 5,000 species, of which number some 306 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. 1,200 are confined to the Paleozoic, perhaps 2,000 to the Mesozoic, and 1,500 to the Cenozoic. During the 60 or 70 years that this information has been accumulating it has developed that certain species or other groups enjoy a considerable time range, and therefore are of little value in answering close questions of age, while others are of such limited vertical distribution that their presence may indi- cate instantly a definite horizon. Thus, if he find in association impressions that we have named Sequoia Nordenskiéldi, Thuya inter- rupta, Populus cuneata, etc., it is known instantly that we are dealing with the lower Eocene Fort Union formation, since not one of these species, together with several hundred others, has ever been found outside this horizon. Innumerable other concrete examples could of course be given, though hardly necessary, yet it may be instructive to note that within a single geographic province—the Rocky Moun- tain region—the several plant-bearing formations present are charac- terized as follows: The Kootenai by 120 species, the Colorado by perhaps 50 species, the Dakota by 460 species, the Montana by 150 species, the Laramie by 140 species, the Arapahoe by 30 species, the Denver by more than 140 species, the Fort Union by from 500 to 700 species, etc. This shows that, as Prof. J. W. Judd once said, “We still regard fossils as the ‘medals of creation,’ and certain types of life we take to be as truly characteristic of definite periods as the coms which bear the image and superscription of a Roman emperor or of a Saxon king.” Just a word may be said on the economic application of strati- eraphic paleontology. It is perhaps safe to say that never in the history of American geology has there been so close an interrelation and dependence of geology on paleontology as at present, and of this confidence paleobotany may justly claim its full share. Thus, of the even dozen of paleontologists in the employ of the United States Geological Survey and covering all branches of the subject, four are paleobotanists. Among the many subsidiary problems connected. with the applica- tion of paleobotany to geology, the use of fossil plants as indices of past climate occupies a most important place. As the majority of plants are attached to the substratum and hence are unable to mi- erate like most animals when the temperature of their habitat becomes unfavorable, they must either give way or adapt themselves gradu- ally to the changed conditions of their environment. Therefore, fossil plants have always been accorded first place as indices of past climates. ‘They are,” as Dr. Asa Gray has said, ‘‘the thermom- eters of the ages, by which climatic extremes and climate in general through long periods are best measured.” To those who have not given especial consideration to the subject, the idea appears to obtain that climatic variations, such as now PALEOBOTANY AND GEOLOGY—KNOWLTON. Sot exist, are normal or essential, and that they were present without marked differences during all geological ages. It is now established, however, that this conclusion is entirely without geological or paleo- botanical warrant, and that the most pronounced climatic differen- tiation the world has known extends only from the Pliocene to the present. As a matter of fact we of to-day are living in the glacial epoch in what possibly is only an interglacial period, and we know that the time which has elapsed since the close of the last ice invasion has been of less duration than was one, and possibly two, of the Pleistocene interglacial periods. We also know that the climate was milder during these interglacial intervals than has obtained since the finalretreat of theice, asshown by thefact that in eastern North America certain species of plants then reached a poimt some 150 miles farther north in the Don Valley than they have since been able to attain. The development of strongly marked climatic zones, at least between the polar circles, is, then, ‘‘exceptional and abnormal, and we have no evidence that in any other post-Silurian period, with the possible exception of the Permo-Carboniferous period, has the climatic dis- tribution and segregation of life been so highly differentiated and complicated as in post-Tertiary times.” + The regular and normal conditions which have existed for vastly the greater part of geologic time have been marked by relative uniformity, mildness, and comparative equability of climate. This is abundantly shown by the almost world-wide distribution and remarkable uniformity of the older floras. When, for instance, we find the middle Jurassic flora extending in practical uniformity from King Karls Land, 82° N., to Louis Philippe Land, 63° 5., we have conditions which not only bespeak a practically continuous land bridge, but exceptionally uniform climatic conditions. To have made this possible there could have been neither frigid polar regions nor a torrid equatorial belt, such as now exist. The absence of erowth rings in the stems of these plants, as well as the presence of such warmth-loving forms as cycads and tree ferns, point to the absence of seasons and the presence of mild and equable climatic conditions. Another example of similar import is afforded by the early Penn- sylvanian flora; that is, the flora of the lower part of the Upper Carboniferous. Wherever terrigerous beds of this age have been discovered, representatives of this peculiar flora, which includes such common genera as Lepidodendron, Sigillaria, Sphenophyllum, etc., have been found, this distribution ranging from South Africa to Brazil and Argentina, and thence over the northern hemisphere. Similarly, the Mississippian flora (Lower Carboniferous) has been found in Spitzbergen, Greenland, and arctic Alaska, and thence 1See White and Knowlton, Science, n.s., vol. 31, 1910, p. 760. 85360°—sm 1912——24 358 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. south over Europe and America, and although somewhat older than the last, is distinctly related to that in Argentina. On passing up in the geologic time scale we find that during late Mesozoic and early Cenozoic time the present dominant types of vegeta- tion were firmly established. With what probability of success may these floras be interrogated as to the climatic conditions under which they existed? We find from a study of the present flora that certain types of vegetation, as well as certain plant associations, have definite climatic requirements. Thus, Artocarpus, or the bread fruit trees, are now confined to within 20° of the Tropics, showing that they require the moist heat of the torrid regions. If, now, we find that Artocarpus once throve in Greenland, 70° or more north, during Cre- taceous time, we feel justified in assuming that its climatic require- ments were not very different from those of its living representatives. And when we find that it was then in association, as it is to-day, with cycads, tree ferns, cmnamons, palms, and other distinctly tropical forms we are confirmed in the opinion that at that time Greenland must have enjoyed a tropical or at least a subtropical climate. Another example is afforded by the Fort Union formation. In the rocks of this horizon, which now occur on the wind-swept, almost treeless plains of the Dakotas, Wyoming, and Montana and thence northward to the valley of the Mackenzie, are found remains of Sequoia, Tarodium, Thuya, Ulmus, Populus, Vitis, Platanus, Sapin- dus, Viburnum, Corylus, Juglans, Hicoria, etc. From this array we feel justified in assuming a cool to mild temperate climate for this early Eocene flora, and further, from the presence of numerous, often thick, beds of lignite, that there was a much higher precipitation than at present. A layer of fan-palm leaves a foot in thickness in a formation in northern Washington indicates climatic requirements in which the minimum temperature did not fall much if any below 42° F. The presence of numerous West Indian types in the Miocene lake beds of Florissant, Colo., would alone point to almost tropical conditions, but as these are associated with others of more northern affinities, it seems safe to predicate at least a warm temperate or possibly sub- tropical climate. GEOPHYSICAL RESEARCH. By Artuur L. Day. To write the history of the earth is a very different undertaking from writing the history of a people. In the latter case, a diligent seeker can usually find some ancient monastery where farsighted historians of an earlier generation have collected the more important records which he requires, and placed them within reach of his hand. With the earth’s history, which is the province of geology, it is an- other matter. The great globe has been millions of years in the making, and except for a mere fragment of its most recent history, it has had neither a historian nor an observer. Its formation has not only extended over an almost incomprehensible interval of time, but we have no parallel in our limited experience to help us to under- stand its complicated development, and no system of classification adequate to the task even of grouping in an orderly way all the ob- served rock and mineral formations with reference to the forces which molded them. And even if we could correctly interpret all the visible rock records we are still quite helpless to comprehend all those earlier activities of the formation period, whose record is now obliterated. To the student of the earth’s history, therefore, the problem of gathering and ordering such a widely scattered and heterogeneous collection of effects and causes is one of somewhat overwhelming scope and complication. In the industrial world a situation of this kind soon results in replacing individual effort with collective effort in the organization of a system of a scope more appropriate to the magnitude of the task. We are familiar with industrial organiza- tion and the wonderful progress in the development of American industries which has everywhere followed it. We are also familiar with organized geological surveys and the success which has attended them in geological and topographical classification. But the idea of organizing research to meet a scientific situation of extraordinary scope and complexity is still comparatively new. The very words “seience”’ and ‘‘research”’ are still regarded as referring to something out of the ordinary, something to be withheld from the common gaze, 1 Presidential address delivered at the 700th meeting of the Philosophical Society of Washington, Novem- ber 25,1911. Reprinted by permission from Journal of the Washington Academy of Sciences, vol. 1, No.9, December 4, 1911, pp. 247-260, 359 360 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. to be kept hidden in a special niche behind a mysterious curtain and served by priests of peculiar temperament and unpractical ideals. This is both disparaging to our good sense and prejudicial to the progress of knowledge. Scientific research is not a luxury; it is a fundamental necessity. It is not a European fad, but is the very essence of the tremendous technologie and industrial success of the last 20 years, in which we have shared. Prof. E. L. Nichols, of Cornell, as retiring president of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, put the case in this way: ‘‘The main product of science (research) * * * is knowl- edge. Among its by-products are the technologic arts, including invention, engineering in all its branches, and modern industry.” The idea of scientific research is therefore not less tangible than industrial development, or less practical; it is merely one step more fundamental; it is concerned with the discovery of principles and underlying relations rather than their application. This being true, research should profit as much, or even more, from efficient organi- zation as industrial development has done. Although this conclusion is making its way but slowly in American science, in geological research, where material must be gathered from the utmost ends of the earth and even from within it, and where nearly every known branch of scientific activity finds some application, there is a peculiarly favorable opportunity for organized effort which is already coming to be recognized. ‘‘So long as geology remained a descriptive science,” says President Van Hise, of Wis- consin, ‘‘it had little need of chemistry and physics; but the time has now come when geologists are not satisfied with mere descrip- tion. They desire to interpret the phenomena they see in refer- ence to their causes—in other words, under the principles of physics and chemistry. * * * This involves cooperation between phys- icists, chemists, and geologists.” In a general way, physics, chemistry, and biology have already supplied working hypotheses which have been used by students of geology to help in the examination, classification, and mapping of the most conspicuous features of the exposed portion of the earth. The geologist has gone abroad and has studied the distribution of jand and water, the mountain ranges, the erosive action of ice and of surface water and the resulting sedimentary deposits, the distri- bution of volcanic activity and of its products the igneous rocks; or, more in detail, he has studied the appearance of fossils in certain strata, and has inferred the sequence of geologic time. The distri- bution of particular minerals and of ore deposits has been carefully mapped. Regions which offer evidence of extraordinary upheaval through the exercise of physical forces have been painstakingly examined, and so on through the great range of geologic activity. GEOPHYSICAL RESEARCH—DAY. 361 In a word, the field has been given a thorough general examination, but the manifold problems which this examination has developed, although early recognized, and often the subject of philosophical speculation and discussion, still await an opportunity for quanti- tative study. They are often problems for the laboratory and not for the field, problems for exact measurement rather than for infer- ence, problems for the physicist and chemist rather than for the geologist. This is not a result of oversight; it is a stage in the development of the science—first the location and classification of the material, then the laboratory study of why and how much. Certain indications have led us to believe, for example, that the earth was once completely gaseous and in appearance much like our sun. Indeed, it possibly formed a part of the sun, but through some instability in the system became split off—a great gaseous ball which has cooled to its present condition. ‘The cooling probably went on rapidly at first until a protecting crust formed about the ball, then more and more slowly, until now, when our loss of heat by radiation into space is more than compensated by heat received from the sun. Obviously, the earliest portions of this history are and must remain dependent upon inference, but the formation of a solid crust can not advance far before portions of it become fixed in a form such that further disturbance does not destroy their identity. From this point on, the history of the earth is a matter of record and can be interpreted if only we bave sufficient knowledge of the mineral relations through all the stages of their development. It must have been a very turbulent sea, the molten surface of our earth upon which the rocky crust began to form. The first patches of crust were probably shattered over and over again by escaping gases and violent explosions of which our waning volcanic activity is but a feeble echo. If the earth was first gaseous, and the outer surface gradually condensed to a liquid, its outer portions at least must have been whirled and tumbled about sufficiently, even in a few thousand years—which is a very small interval in the forma- tion of an earth—to mix its various ingredients pretty thoroughly. It has accordingly been hard to see just how it came to separate into individual rocks of such widely different appearance and character. Of course the number of its ingredients was large. We have already discovered 80 or more different elementary substances in the earth, and there is an almost endless number of more or less stable com- pounds of these. The freezing of an earth is therefore different from the freezing of pure water, but the freezing of salt water offers a clue to the explanation of the way in which the earth solidified as we find it. When salt water freezes, the salt is practically all left behind. The ice contains much less salt and the remaining water relatively more salt than before freezing began. Applying this familiar obser- 362 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. vation to the supposed molten surface of the earth as it begins to solidify, we have a suggestion of order and system in its separation into so many kinds of rocks. Now, it happens that in the recent development of chemistry much attention has been given to the study of solutions of various kinds, and a great body of information has been gathered and classified of which our observation upon the freezing of salt water is a simple type. Still more recently, quite lately in fact, it has occurred to many students of the earth that here lies not only the clue but per- haps the key to their great problem. If the individual components which are intimately mixed in solution separate wholly or partially in some regular way upon freezing—and nearly all the solutions which have been studied appear to show such segregation—we have a quantitative system which will probably prove adequate to solve the problem of rock formation, provided only that the experimental difficulties attending the study of molten rock and the complications imposed by the presence of so many component minerals, do not prove prohibitive. This is a very simple statement of the point of view which has led to the experimental study of rock formation in the laboratory as a natural sequence to statistical study in the field. Geophysics therefore does not come as a new science, nor as a restricted subdivision of geology, like physiography or stratigraphy, but rather to introduce into the study of the earth an element of exactness, of quantitative relation. It may include physics or chem- istry, biology or crystallography, or physical chemistry, or all of these at need. The distinctive feature of geophysics is not its scope, which may well be left to the future, but its quantitative character. The Geophysical Laboratory of the Carnegie Institution of Washington has entered upon some of the investigations suggested by this long pre- liminary study of the earth—the physical properties and conditions of formation of the rocks and minerals. The Department of Terres- trial Magnetism of the same institution has undertaken another— the earth’s magnetism; the German geophysical laboratory at Gét- tingen a third—the earthquakes—and these will no doubt be followed by others. The first effect of calling exact science into consultation upon geologic problems is to introduce a somewhat different viewpoint. It has been our habit to study the minerals and the rocks as we find them to-day, after many of the causes which have had a share in their evolution have ceased to be active, after the fire has gone out. If we attempt to reconstruct in our minds the operations which enter into the formation of an igneous rock or of a body of ore, we must infer them from present appearances and environment. The experi- mental geophysicist, on the other hand, confronting the same problem, says to himself: Can we not construct a miniature volcano in the GEOPHYSICAL RESEARCH—DAY. 363 laboratory; can we not build a furnace in which an igneous rock can be formed under such conditions that we can observe its minutest change? He proposes to introduce temperature-measuring devices and apparatus for the determination of pressure, to investigate the character of the surrounding atmosphere and the quantity of water vapor which may be present. He insists upon the chemical purity of every ingredient which goes into the furnace and guards it carefully against contamination. In these various ways he will undertake to ascertain the exact magnitude of all the causes, both physical and chemical, which have been at work in his miniature rock producer, together with the physical characteristics of the product. A very practical question now arises. Can he do all this suc- cessfully at the temperatures where the minerals form? We must press this question and insist upon a satisfactory answer, for it is by no means obvious that the relations which the physicist and chemist have established at the temperatures of everyday life— energy content, density, solubility, viscosity, dissociation—will continue to hold when substances are carried up to a white heat. The substances, too, are different from those with which the chemist and physicist have been generally familiar. Instead of simple metals, aqueous solutions, and readily soluble active salts, we encounter silicates and refractory oxides, inert in behavior and capable of existing together in mixtures of great complexity. We must there- fore extend the range of our physics and our chemistry to a scope in some degree commensurate with the wide range of conditions which the earth in its development has passed through. Let us follow for a little the actual progress of such an attempt. The first step is to provide the necessary temperatures. Obvi- ously, the common fire-clay crucible and the smelter’s furnace with its brick lining will not serve us here, for all these are themselves mineral aggregates. The charge, furnace lining, and crucible would go down together in a fall as disastrous as Humpty Dumpty’s. But experiment has taught us that platinum crucibles, magnesia furnace tubes inclosing an electrically heated helix of platinum wire, and elec- tric temperature-measuring devices, provide a furnace in which nearly all of the important minerals can be successfully studied, which is hot enough to melt zinc, silver, gold, copper, nickel, or iron readily, and where any temperature up to 1,600° C. can be maintained perfectly constant, if need be, for several weeks. All these temperatures can be measured with no uncertainty greater than 5°. This equipment pre- serves the chemical purity of the mineral studied, and enables the temperature to be controlled and measured at every step of the experimental work. Or an iridium furnace tube and an iridium crucible can be substituted for platinum, the magnesia supports can 364 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. still be used, and we have it in our power to go on to 2,000° C., which is quite sufficient for all the more important minerals which we know. The physicist has therefore found a suitable melting pot and means of ascertaining what goes on within the pot; but he at once encounters another difficulty. Nature has provided us with relatively few min- erals of high chemical purity. If a natural mineral is chosen for ex- periment, however typical it may be, several per cent of other min- erals may be expected to be present with it, the effect of which is at present quite unknown. Now, the first axiom of the mvestigator in a new field who desires to undertake measurements which shall have a real value is that the number of unknown quantities in his equa- tions must not be greater than he can eliminate by his experimental processes; in other words, he must begin with+conditions so simple that the relation between a particular effect and its cause can be absolutely established without leaving undetermined factors. Hav- ing solved the simple case, it is a straightforward matter to utilize this information to help solve a more complicated one. Therefore if we would reduce the mineral relations to an exact science, which is our obvious purpose, it is necessary from the outset to prepare min- erals of the highest purity and to establish their properties. Having obtained such a pure mineral type, it may be, and often is, in the power of the mineralogist and his microscope to determine, by direct comparison with its natural prototype, the kind and amount of effect actually produced in the natural mineral by the one or more other minerals which it contains. We have therefore hardly started upon our investigation before the need of an organized system is demon- strated: First comes the chemist, who prepares and analyzes the pure mineral for investigation; then the physicist, who provides and meas- ures the conditions to which it is subjected; then the mineralogist, who establishes its optical properties in relation to the corresponding natural minerals. Having prepared such a mineral, of high purity and of known crystalline character, we can ascertain its behavior at the tempera- tures which must have obtained during the various stages of earth formation. We can study the various crystal forms through which it passes on heating and the temperature ranges within which these forms are stable; we can also melt it and measure the melting or solidifying temperature. Another mineral, prepared with the same care and studied in the same way, may afterwards be added to the first, and the relation of these two determined. If they combine, heat is absorbed or released; and this quantity of heat can be meas- ured, together with the exact temperature at which the absorption or release takes place. If the mixture results in the formation of one or more mineral compounds, we shall learn the conditions of for- GEOPHYSICAL RESEARCH—DAY. 365 mation, the temperature region within which the new forms are stable, and the changes which each undergoes with changes of pressure and temperature, as before. If the new forms show signs of instability, we can drop them into cold water or mercury so quickly that there will be no opportunity to return to initial stable forms, and thus obtain, for study with the microscope at our leisure, every individual phase of the process through which the group of minerals has passed. Without complicating the illustration further, it is obvious that we have it in our power to reproduce in detail the actual process of rock formation within the earth, and to substitute measurement where the geologist has been obliged to use inference; to tabulate the whole history of the formation of a mineral or group of minerals under every variety of condition which we may suppose it to have passed through in the earth, provided only we can reproduce that condition in the laboratory. During the past quarter of a century there has arisen in the middle ground between physics and chemistry a new science of physical chemistry, in the development of which generalizations of great value in the study of minerals have been established. As long ago as 1861 the distinguished German chemist, Bunsen, pointed out that the rocks must be considered to be solutions and must be studied as such; but, inasmuch as comparatively little was known about solu- tions in those days, and the rocks at best appeared to be very com- plicated ones, no active steps in that direction were taken during Bunsen’s life. But in recent years solutions have been widely studied, under rather limited conditions of temperature and pressure, to be sure, but it has resulted in establishing relations—like the phase rule— of such effective and far-reaching character that now, just half a century afterwards, we are entering with great vigor upon the prose- cution of Bunsen’s suggestion. It is now possible to establish definite limits of solubility of one mineral in another, and definite conditions of equilibrium, even in rather complicated groups of minerals, which enables us not only to interpret the relations developed by such a thermal study as that outlined above, but also to assure ourselves that only a definitely limited number of compounds of two minerals can exist, that they must bear a constant and characteristic relation to each other under gtven conditions of temperature and pressure, and that changes of temperature and pressure will affect this relation in a definite and determinable way. Physical chemistry not only takes into account the chemical composition of mineral compounds, but their physical properties as well, throughout the entire tempera- ture region in which they have a stable existence, and therefore fur- nishes us at once with the possibility of a new and adequately com- prehensive classification of all the minerals and rocks in the earth. The value of an adequate system of classification appeals chiefly to 366 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. those whose duties bring them into intimate relations with the subject matter of a science, but so much may appropriately be said that a consistent application of physical chemistry to the minerals may operate in the not far distant future to develop an entirely new con- ception of the science of mineralogy. As the number and scope of such exact measurements increase, we gradually build up what may be called a geologic thermometer. Just as the location of fossils offers a basis for estimating geologic time, it often happens that a mineral takes on a variety of different crystal habits, according as it happened to form at one temperature or another. Quartz, for example, which is one of the commonest of natural minerals and one of the most familiar, undergoes two changes in its erystal form which leave an ineffaceable record. One occurs at 575° and the other at 800°. An optical examination of even a minute quartz fragment from the mountainside will reveal to the skillful petrologist whether the crystal formed at a temperature below 575°, between 575° and 800°, or above 800°. And if we could have at our disposal a great body of such exact measurements of the temperature region within which particular crystals originate and remain stable, we could apply that directly to terrestrial formations in which this mineral occurs, and read therein the temperature which must have obtained during their formation. All this will not be done in the first year, and perhaps not in the first decade; but the ultimate effectiveness of this method of procedure in establishing the relations between the minerals and the valuable ores is now as certain of success as the operations of any of the sciences which have now come to be characterized as exact, as opposed to descriptive. There is one important difference between the great laboratory of nature and its feeble human counterpart. Nature operated with large masses, mixed with a generous hand, and there was always plenty of time for the growth of great individual crystals, at which we marvel whenever we encounter them, and which we have some- times come to regard highly as precious stones. To carry these processes into the laboratory is necessarily fraught with certain limi- tations. The quantities must remain small and the time and avail- able financial resources will always be limited. So long as we are able to ascertain the optical character of a crystal with equal exact- ness whether the crystal is of the size of the proverbial mustard seed or a walnut, the scientific laboratory can not properly afford the time necessary to produce the large crystals which nature offers so abun- dantly. Furthermore, the crystals of nature often owe thetr brilliant coloring to slight admixtures of impurity, which, to the scientific laboratory, spell failure and are avoided with the utmost care. Most of the mineral crystals, when reproduced in the laboratory, are quite colorless. And so, although the question is often raised whether we GEOPHYSICAL RESEARCH—DAY. 367 are not really engaged in the artificial production of gems, and although the seductive character of such an investigation would no doubt appeal to many, it must be admitted that the geological laboratory is not and probably will never become the serious com- petitor of nature in those directions in which nature has produced her most brilliant effects. In what has preceded I have laid emphasis upon the value of experimental measurements in the systematic development of a more exact science of the earth. It is a fair question, and one which is very often raised, whether all this investigation has a utilitarian side, whether the knowledge obtained in this way and with such difficulty, will hetp to solve any of the problems arising in the exploitation of our mineral resources or assist in our industrial development. It is neither wise nor expedient, in entering upon a new field of research, to expatiate long upon its practical utility. Its principles must first be established, after which there is no lack of ingenuity in finding profitable application of them. The development of thermoelectric apparatus for the accurate measurement of high temperatures was begun and has been per- fected in the interest of geophysical research, and it has already found such extended application among the technical industries as to demand the manufacture and calibration of thousands of such high- temperature thermometers every year. The tempering and im- pregnation of steel are no longer dependent upon the more or less trained eye of the workman, but are done at measured temperatures and under known conditions which guarantee the uniformity of the product and admit of adaptation to particular purposes, like high- speed tools or armor plate. This has the incidental but far-reaching industrial consequence that workmen of great individual skill in these industries are much less necessary now than formerly. Everything is accomplished by bringing temperature conditions under mechanical control and making them absolutely reproducible without the exercise of critical judgment on the part of anyone. A more intimate knowledge of the behavior of the minerals them- selves finds almost immediate industrial application. An industry which has grown to enormous proportions in recent years is the manufacture of Portland cement, about which little more has been known than that if certain natural minerals were taken in the proper proportions and heated in a peculiar furnace developed by experience, the resulting product could be mixed with water to form an artificial stone which has found extensive application in the building trades. Chemical analysis readily established the fact that the chief ingre- dients in a successful Portland cement were lime, alumina, and silica, with a small admixture, perhaps, of iron and magnesia: but the 368 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. relation in which these ingredients stood one to another—that is, which of them were necessary and which merely incidental—and in what compounds and what proportions the necessary ingredients required to be present, has never been satisfactorily established. When we know the stable compounds which lime, alumina, and silica can combine to form, together with the conditions of equi- librium between these for different temperatures and percentages of each component, a formula can be written offhand for a success- ful Portland cement from given ingredients somewhat as an experi- enced cook might write out the recipe for a successful dish. Such definite and vakuable knowledge is not beyond our reach. To obtain it requires in fact precisely the same system of procedure which has been described above and which has already been suc- cessfully applied to many of the natural minerals which have been reproduced and studied in the Geophysical Laboratory during the past five years. It happens that we have examined a considerable number of these very mixtures in our recent work upon the rocks. All the compounds of lime, silica, and alumina have been established, and a portion of the silica-magnesia series and their relations have been definitely determined throughout the entire range of accessible temperatures. There is no reason to apprehend serious difficulty in applying the same procedure to the commercial ingredients of Portland cement and replacing the present rule-of-thumb methods and uncertain products with dependable cements. The problem of determining the relation of the ingredients in commercial cement and the conditions necessary for its successful formation is exactly the same in character as that of determining the conditions of for- mation of the rocks of the earth. ' A physico-chemical investigation of the sulphide ores over a wide range of temperatures and pressures has also been undertaken, which has developed a large body of exact information of value in mining industry. And such illustrations could be continued almost indefinitely if it would serve any useful purpose to do so. The industrial world is not, as a rule, interested in scientific prin- ciples; the principle must first be narrowed down to the scope of the industrial requirement before its usefulness is apparent. The immediate effect of an industrial standpoint is therefore to restrict investigation at the risk of losing sight of underlying principles entirely. An illustration of this has come down to us through the pages of history, of a character to command and receive the utmost respect, for such another can hardly be expected to occur. We have honored the early philosophers for their splendid search after broad knowledge, but in what is now the field of chemistry they allowed themselves to be turned aside to the pursuit of a single strictly utilitarian problem—the transmutation of base metals into GEOPHYSICAL RESEARCH—DAY. 369 gold. The history of chemistry is a history of this one problem from the fourth to the sixteenth century—12 centuries before a man arose whose broader standpoint enabled him to divert the fruitless search into other channels from which a science has slowly arisen which is now so broad as to overlap most of the other sciences and withal so practical that hardly an industry is entirely independent of it. The so-called practical questions may therefore as well be left to take care of themselves. There has been no lack of ingenuity in making profitable application of systematic knowledge whenever the need for it became insistent, for the rewards of such effort are considerable. And it is no longer an argument against proceeding to establish relationships in a new field, that the scope of their appli- cation can not be completely foreseen. Now, what more promising questions occur to one than these: If the earth was originally fluid, as it appears to have been, and has gradually cooled down to its present state, its component minerals must at some time have been much more thoroughly mixed than now; how did they come to separate in the process of cooling into highly individualized masses and groups as we now find them, and what were the steps in their deposition? If the whole earth was hot, whence came the marble of which we have so much and which can withstand no heat? What has given us the valuable deposits of iron, of gold, of precious stones? What determines the various crystal forms found in the different minerals, and what is their relation? Some must have formed under pressure, some without pressure, some with the help of water, and some without. Where is the center, and what the source of energy in our voleanoes? All these questions and many more the geophysicist may attempt to answer Hevmebsianil %: Ty A TRIP TO MADAGASCAR, THE COUNTRY OF BERYLS.! By A. Lacrorx, Membre de l’ Institut de France. Madagascar, the land long full of mystery and of fabulous legends, has ever since it was opened up to the world been noted for its mineral riches. The second Frenchman who landed on the island, Capt. Jean Fonteneau, called Alphonse le Saintongeois, declared that he found precious stones there in 1547.2? One hundred years later, in 1658, Flacourt*® speaks of topazes, aquamarines, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires, and shows on his map the places where one could find those marvelous masses of rock crystal, limpid as the purest water, which have ever since been sought after for ornamentation and for optical use* Up to the middle of the last century every traveler who wrote about the ‘Grand Ile” did not fail to note the great abundance of gems there,’ although many attempts at their practical utilization, made in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries by the French East India Co., had lamentably failed. When the period of scientific exploration commenced, some fear- less pioneers, in the front rank of whom I would place our colleague, M. Alfred Grandidier, quickly made known the principal features, so peculiar, of its flora and fauna, but all that concerned its miner- alogy was hardly glanced at, for a reason that I will explain. In order to protect its mineral resources the Government of Madagascar had instituted a system as ingenious as it was efficient. One penalty only—and that was death—stopped all mineral research by for- 1 Lecture at the annual meeting of the Cing Académies del’Institut de France (Oct. 25,1912). Translated by permission from La Géographie. Bulletin of the Geographical Society of Paris, Nov. 15, 1912. 2 Voyages adventureux du capitaine Jean-Alphonse-le-Saintongeois, Paris, 1559 (reprinted in Coll. ouvr. anc. Madag. by A. and G. Grandidier, vol. 1, pp. 92-95). 3 Histoire de la Grande Isle de Madagascar, Paris, 1658. 4 This mineral was found in the rivers of the eastern coast, to the north of the Bay of Antongil and notably in the region of Vohemar. I have specified (Comptes Rendus del’ Acad. des Sciences, Paris, vol. 155, 1912, p. 491) the conditions under which this mineral abounds on the high plateaus. The beds actually worked in place are pockets of crystals in the metamorphosed quartzites. 5 Notably: (Du Bois) Les voyages faits par le sieur D. B. aux iles Dauphine ou Madagascar et Bourbon ou Mascarenne, és annees 1669-70, 71 et 72, Paris, 1674, 151. Souchu de Rennefort, Histoire des Indes orien- tales, Leide, 1688, 173. Dela Haye et Caron, Journal du voyage des Grandes Indes, Paris, 1688. 371 372 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. eigners. Since the French occupation of the island, the prospectors have taken their revenge. The map of the ‘‘Service des Mines,” on which is recorded the sites for permits for research, resembles a swarm of ants. Among the treasures that this remarkable activity has drawn from the earth, precious stones, along with gold, must be placed as the principal object of exploitation. The conjectures of ancient voy- agers have been realized, but I should say that the mineral deposits now worked are not at all those which they believed they had dis- covered. They knew only of those near the mouths of the rivers of the eastern coast and in the neighborhood of Fort Dauphin, there where modern research has so far brought to light only some quartz and poor garnets, unfit for any economic use.’ The real deposits are found elsewhere. Official statistics show that in 1911 there were exported from Mada- gascar 470 kilograms of stones ready to be cut; it is a‘good omen for the future of so new an industry. Iwas atits birth.2? I have followed its rapid strides while there has been unearthed material of a scien- tific interest of the first order.* Thus in the course of a recent mis- sion, to which I was attached, I undertook, among other subjects, to study on the spot all the mineral occurrences that might yield the least gem. I now propose to outline what I saw. 1 It is shown by the following references that it was these minerals that those early explorers had seen: In 1666 Frangois Martin (the founder of Pondichéry) says that the passengers of the Vierge dw Bon Port brought a quantity of topazes, amethysts, and other colored stones that they had found at Fort Dauphin. “That has been a fancy of the French who were in the island, but they have not been appreciated in France because they were found too fragile.’”” (Archives nationales, MS.) In 1668, De Faye, director of commerce of the East India Co., wrote ‘‘that the company has been very much undeceived on the subject of some precious stones of which wonderful things had been promised him and for which in India they had not given asou per thousand [some topazes and amethysts from the Itapere River (Fort Dauphin)]. (Arch. Min. Colonies, Manuscripts.) This last story is confirmed by De la Haye (op. cit., 91). ‘‘ Director Caron, arriving at Surate, offered some to the governor of the city, who refused them, smiling at the gift, which, however, was nine of the most beautiful stones that had yet been seen and the smallest as large as a quail’s egg, and all cut in various shapes. They were shown to several jewelers, who were pressed to state their value, and none estimated higher than 9 rupees for the most beautiful and 27 for all the others.’ 2 The first specimens received at the museum were a beautiful crystal of rubellite, some small sapphires and zircons, given in 1891 by A. Grandidier. (Jannettaz. Bull. Soc. frang. minér., vol. 14, 1891, p. 66.) The first specimens reported in France with the precise indications of their localities were given to me by E. Gautier; I described them in 1899 (Bull. Muséum, p. 318); a little later Mr. Villiaume sent me some tour- malines found by him to the west of Mount Bity. I believe that I was the first to have these precious stones of Madagascar cut in asystematic fashion, fol- lowing the exposition made at the museum at the time of the expedition; there were some chrysoberyls, some garnets, some corundums, and topazes, etc., from the alluvia of Belambo near Mevatanana and brought back by M.Suberbie. I afterwards exhibited in the Gallery of Mineralogy a fine series of yellow and brown tourmalines that I had had cut with the aid of patterns from the region of Tsilaisina, that Mr. Garnier-Mouton had sent me, who was then chief of the Province of Betafo. 3 T have described these materials in numerous notes and memoirs, particularly in my Minéralogie dela France et de ses Colonies, vols. 1-4, 1893-1900, in the article Minéralogie, in Madagascar au XX siecle, 1902, pp. 65-107, then in the Comptes Rendus de!’ Ac. des Sciences and in the Bulletin de la Société frangaise de Minéralogie from 1908 to 1912. See also the notes of M. Mouneyres and of M. Dabren (showing some results of the mission Villierme) in the Bulletin del’ Académie malgache, vol. 4, 1905, and in the Bulletin écono- mique de Madagascar, 1906, besides those of MM. Dupare, Wunder and Sabot in the Bulletin dela Société francaise de Minéralogie, 1910-1911, in the Archives and the Memoires de la Société des Sciences physiques et naturelles de Genéve, 1910, TRIP TO MADAGASCAR LACROIX. oe It is necessary first of all to understand what we mean by a precious stone. Mineralogists classify minerals in the first place according to their chemical composition, then they determine from the form of the crystals how to establish subdivisions of a second order; therefore precious stones are, from every point of view, chemical; a simple element, oxides, aluminates, silicates, and many other combinations. All the modalities that can form crystalline symmetry are found represented there. It is not then the question of a natural family but of an artificial grouping. To be a precious stone a mineral must unite a number of qualifica- tions. It must be transparent, of a fine water; that is, very limpid. It should have a strong, clear color; hence, the doubtful tints, the halftones dear to painters, those which form the charm of certain flowers and the adornment of many animals, are not in favor. The mineral should be very brilliant, which depends upon two optical properties, dispersion and refraction; this last is dependent on den- sity; therefore precious stones are more or less heavy. Finally, it must be hard, so as to take and hold a fine polish. The more a stone unites these qualities in a high degree, the more readily does it hold a high place in the realm of gems, a place which in addition to this is in- fluenced by its comparatively great rarity. To these intrinsic properties of the stone, we should, bowen add something exterior to it that escapes fhe analysis iat a min- eralogist, for it is nothing less than feminine fancy, changing with the fashion. Thus, thanks to the favor which artistic jewels now enjoy, these stones, so correctly called ‘‘fancy,’”’ until lately so neglected, are each day more and more sought after. Madagascar should not complain, for these are the stones that most of all adorn her jewel case. The definition which I am going to give may be exact; it is not, however, a general one. There are, in fact, some minerals which are neither limpid, nor clear, nor dense, nor hard, and yet are con- sidered as precious stones. Such is the opaque turquoise, which owes its popularity to its beautiful delicate blue color; such is the opal, which takes the charm of its beauty from the warm reflections that play about in its semitransparency. A mineral which may constitute a gem, and sometimes of the highest value, is found not alone in its precious form. At Madagascar even corundum forms transparent sapphires, the value of which is estimated by the carat of 200 milligrams, and besides some enormous 1 The opal is also found in Madagascar, but it is not yet quarried; in the phonolite trachyte, coming from the south of Faratsiho, it constitutes very small veins, which possess reflections equal to those of the opal of Hungary and also some small veins which recall the fire opal, but -with a tint more brown than red. I visited this deposit but collected only small fragments. 85360°—sm 1912 25 374 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. opaque crystals which are exported by the ton and utilized only in the abrasive industry.’ On the other hand, the list of gems is not definitely closed, for from time to time, following the discovery of a new deposit, the list is increased by the name of a mineral until then considered a mere pebble, because though possessing some of the qualities enumer- ated above, it has been lacking in transparency or in a pleasing color. Madagascar furnishes some examples of this. One of the most common constituents of the rocks which form the granite mountains of all countries—potash feldspar—has been found in a locality lost in the south (Itrongahy, about midway between Betroka and Benenitra) in crystals of an admirable limpidity, set off by a yellow color as warm as it was unusual and which gave it the appear- ance of golden beryl.2. Very near there, scattered through the soil, were found some fragments of a species of mineral, the name of which has never been heard by any of you, the “‘kornerupine.” ° Instead of forming grayish and opaque rods, as in the single deposit in Greenland, where until recently it had only been found, it consti- tutes a transparent, sea-green stone slightly recalling certain aqua- marines but with an incomparably superior brilliancy. Up to the present time no diamonds have been found in Madagas- car, but nearly all the other gems occur there in great abundance. Many of the minerals are seen in their original matrix, others are gathered in the alluvium resulting from the breaking up of their vein- stone in place, while still others are a part of the alluvium accumulated by the work of streams. The Grand Ile is made up principally of a basement of ancient rocks, eruptive and metamorphic, ending abruptly on the eastern side in high cliffs which are separated from the Indian Ocean by a narrow plain, low and sandy, while toward the west the island ter- minates in a way no less abrupt, serving as a buttress for some sedi- mentary formations which come to an end in the Mozambique Chan- nel. All the deposits of precious stones are located in the central ridge and particularly on the high plateaus that crown the island. One of the principal attractions of a trip to Madagascar is the con- trasts encountered at every step, contrasts due to nature, contrasts 1T have shown that this corundum which abounds eastward from the meridian of Tananarive is formed in mica schists in connection with granite. (Comptes Rendus de 1’Acad. des Sciences, vol. 154, 1912, p- 797.) There were exported in 1911, 150 tons, and this quantity will without doubt be doubled in 1912. 2 Its hardness (6) is less than that of the beryl, likewise the density (2.55 to 2.60) and also its refraction (Mg=1.5253, Mm=1.5248, Np= 1.5197). 3 Kornerupine is a magnesium aluminium silicate. Once cut, it is distinguished from the aquamarine as well as from the green andalusite of Brazil by its very great density (3.27) and especially by its refraction (Ng= 1.6742, Mm=1.6733, Np=1.6613). (A. Lacroix, Comptes Rendus, vol.'155, 1912, p. 675.) A variety named prismatine has been found in the granulite of Saxe, but it is formed only of little grayish rods not transparent. The feldspar of Itrongahy is accompanied by crystals of limpid diopside, specimens of which of a bottle green color form a very pretty gem. Some violet zircons and green apatite might also be cut, TRIP TO MADAGASCAR—LACROIX. 375 due to men and to their industry. The ascent from the eastern side to Tananarive is startling from this point of view. The canal from Pangalanes permits crossing the coastal zone, marshy and warm. The arduous ascent of more than 1,500 meters! of jagged rocks, whence fall raging cascades in the midst of the humid luxuriance of a tropical forest, leads to vast plateaus covered by the grassy steppe which is prolonged, barren, and dry until the moment when the high hills of Tananarive commence to carve themselves against the sky, coming nearer little by little, then appearing in the midst of verdant rice plantations with all the details of their red beauty. The means of transportation which permitted me to reach my destination were not less varied. The slowness and the lack of comfortable navigation through the canal on the plain made us better appreciate the speed and elegance of the railroad—a bold undertaking, which in less than 13 hours climbed over the high rounds of the titanic trestle, leading to the neighborhood of Ocean by the side of the bat- tered plateau on which, much farther still, the Malagasy capital stands. It was by automobile that the 172 kilometers which separate Tanana- rive from Antsirabe, my first center of exploration, were traversed and I descended from a vehicle of the latest model only to mount a ‘‘filanzane’’ (seat suspended between long poles). At the risk of being called an old retrograde academician, I dis- tinctly state that between the automobile and the filanzane my sympathy for the geologist goes straight to the latter. The journey from the capital to Antsirabe was like the cup of Tantalus forme. Over this road, still new, we rolled along with dizzy speed; before my eyes, accustomed by a month of the bush to the monotony of the red earth which covers the greatest part of the island, the rocky walls recently torn up by dynamite appeared like flashes of lightning exposing to the sun their marvelous freshness. Upon the slope some broad surfaces of granite, reflecting white or rose, were loosened, magnificent, with innumerable dark spots, basic inclu- sions, which I seek throughout the world that I may learn from them the secret of the genesis of the rocks which inclose them; then, as in a giant kaleidoscope, there succeeded some gneiss in many colored strata, revealing the complexity of their nature, some veins of every variety. What more do I know? Each turn of the wheel brings a new temptation. My hammer burns my hands. But alas! deaf to my prayers, the conductor of the infernal machine, bending over the steering wheel, slave to the hour, refuses the slightest stop and we keep rolling on. With the filanzane these distractions are unknown. Nicely perched on a little seat of cloth between two long bars resting on the 1 The railroad attains the height of 1,520 meters between the stations of Ambatolaona and Manjakan- driana. 376 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. shoulders of four strong fellows, the traveler is master of his destiny, The measured step of the porters, the resulting rhythmic movement, hardly disturbed each minute by the interchange of the bushmen, are not without charm and induce revery. In the plain, on a track well marked, the Malagasy loves to take a sinuous course, but just as soon as the land changes, he uses nothing but the straight path. It happens sometimes that one is almost erect in the stirrups during steep descents, or the head is lower than the feet on steep ascents. The inexperienced sufferer makes sad reflections on certain proprieties, new to him, of the shortest way from one point to another, but he soon reassures himself as he learns the skill, the wonderful steadiness of his servants, and without fear trusts to them, and feels himself carried at a bound over all obstacles. This mode of transportation is not slow, for it is possible to make 70 kilometers in a day, though about 50 kilometers is a good average, and can be maintained for several weeks with the same men on con- dition that some village be reached from time to time, when the bushman may find fresh meat, a good night’s lodging, and rest. The Malagasy porter is a big child, laughing, talkative, obliging, temperate, easily contented, and from whom one can gain a great deal, when he is treated in an equitable, kindly way, but with firmness. At the end of my four months of uninterrupted round in the bush, IT was alarmed about them only once. One morning, their humorous stories, related as usual at the time of departure, were longer than was customary. The stories were told in an animated dialogue between two of the band, who replied to each other in a tone growing sharper and sharper, and they became more and more excited by the applause for some story well told, until the two chief actors caught each other by the hair on some trifling pretext. I had to intervene to prevent a general fight. My cook, who was interpreter, having stayed behind, forced me to await his arrival to learn the real cause of the conflict. The debate was in a way philosophical. The question was whether it is best to be economical each evening with one’s wages or if it be not better to spend them as most of these talkers had very certainly done the night before. Tt was in that equipage that I thoroughly explored the region of precious stones, which forms a great rectangle about 200 kilometers long from north to south and 60 or more wide from east to west.’ 1 The principal centers are to the northwest of Antsirabé, the outskirts of Miandrarivo (Ampangabé in particular); to the west of Antsirabé, the region situated to the west (Anjanaboana) and to the south of Betafo (Tongafeno, Antsongombato, Zamalaza, etc.); to the south of Antsirabé, the valley of the Sahatany and its vicinity; Sahanivotry, to the east of Mount Bity, then more to the south on the other side of the Manandona, a series of beds situated to the northwest and to the west of Ambositra and then still farther south, the region of ikalamavony (see vol. 4 of the ‘‘ Minéralogie de la France et ses colonies’’), TRIP TO MADAGASCAR—LACROIX. 377 The valley of the Sahatany River southwest of Antsirabé, may be taken as an example. I came upon it in going over Mount Bity, a long jagged ridge more than 2,000 meters high, formed chiefly of white quartzites, sometimes rising vertically, sometimes bedded in great slabs which are crumbled into very fine sand or into large grains of quartz, translucid and sharp. The Sahatany is only a small tranquil river, flowing into the tumul- tuous Manandona with many crocodiles, the only harmful animals of Madagascar. It wrigates a large valley in which there is a remark- able relation between the vegetation and the mineralogical nature of the soil. This is essentially formed by parallel bands of quartzites, mica-schists and marbles. A monotonous mantle of high grasses conceals the first two rocks, while the limestones, bright in their white nakedness, support numerous aloes (Aloe macroclada Baker) whose trunks, more than a yard in height, are surmounted by large bouquets of green leaves. These aloes with their queer shapes, sole arborescent vegetable of the valley, reveal at a distance the composi- tion of its soil as easily as on a geological map. The precious stones are all found in the pegmatite veins, inter- calated between strata of metamorphosed sediments or traversing intrusions of granite. These pegmatites are very heterogeneous; their two essential elements, quartz and microcline feldspar, at times of a vivid green tint, and constituting the ‘‘stone of the amazone,”’ are of great size. Among these rocks, it is interesting to distinguish two types, as well from the scientific point of view as because of their practical use. In one, the quartz often has the beautiful rose color that is sought after for making small ornaments. The mica, when it appears,’ is that potash-mica, in great colorless sheets, the use of which for portable stoves has made the mineral popular. Only one gem exists by itself, the beryl,? but its crystals are at times enormous;* I brought back one which measures nearly a meter. You should not believe, however, that these colossal-like crystals are entirely transparent; the limpid portions are seen only here and there, in the midst of a fissured mass, cloudy or opaque. The colors that are most sought after, those of the aquamarine, are the various shades * of blue and the sea green, but one sees also some colorless varieties and yellow or rose colors; the beautiful striking green color which characterizes the emerald is unfortunately not found there. 1 Mica is often lacking in the gem-bearing pegmatites. The muscovite is not worked there, though a very good quality of it is found in some special pegmatites, notably in the massif of Olotsingy, to the south of Betafo. 2T have recently found a small quantity of uncolored topaz at Ampangabé, 1913. ’These crystals of beryl are hexagonal prisms, very long on the vertical axis; they are very often types of weak density, of which I will speak further on. 4 The stones that are most highly esteemed are those of sky-blue shade (Ampangabé, ete.) or of a very special dark blue, with a black tint (Tongafeno, Fefena, etc.). 378 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. In several deposits situated outside the Sahantany ! region there is also found an abundance of monazite, a cerium phosphate sought for on account of the small quantity of thorium which it contains, thorium entering into the composition of gas mantles used for inten- sive lighting. One can find there also some uranium bearing titano- tantaloniobates ? from which the precious radium is extracted. It is not rash to think the day is not far distant when these minerals will no longer be mere scientific curiosities, but will become material profitably turned to account. The second group of pegmatites is characterized by a greater variety of gems.2 The most abundant is tourmaline. This sub- stance furnishes with beryl and corundum an illustration of the fact that the color of minerals does not generally constitute one of their essential characteristics. One can not conceive of malachite other than green, but very rare are the minerals which, like that, have a color which belongs to them alone. The coloration of nearly all spe- cies of minerals, and particularly some precious stones, is only a natural tint, existing ordinarily in such a small proportion that in many cases one may still dispute its nature. In the Sahatany region the transparent tourmalines are the most beautiful gems, running all the possible gamut of colors. Rarely colorless, they are red and of many different reds; pigeon blood like the beautiful ruby, reds more or less tinged with violet, fading away to the most delicate rose; there are some greens and blues, some browns with now and then a smoky tint, some golden yellows, and one of dazzling gold. Here the colors are uniform in the same crystal, there they alternate to form harmonious blendings.* By the side of these transparent stones are also found, as in the preceding pegmatites, a black tourmaline of no possible use.’ Though from a reminiscense of the war of conquest in which the Senegal sharpshooters played a réle that the Malagasys have not forgotten, they call these stones ‘‘senegal.”’ 1 The deposits where this mineral exists in great abundance and in large crystals are to the north of Betafo (Ampangabé, Ambatofotsikely, etc.); it is there accompanied by ampangabéite, columbite, striiverite, and some bismuth minerals. (A. Lacroix, Bull. Soc. frang. minér., vol. 34, p. 63, and vol. 35, 1912, p. 76.) 21 have distinguished two groups among these minerals. (Comptes Rendus, vol. 144, 1912, p. 797, and Bull. Soc. franc, minér., vol. 31, 1908, pp. 218-312; vol. 33, 1910, p. 321; vol. 35, 1912, p. 84.) The first is isometric and comprises blomstrandite and two new species that I have called betafite and samiresite; these minerals erystalize in great yellow or greenish octahedrons; the second is orthorhombic and includes euxénite, samarskite, and the new mineral that I have named ampangabéite. We must add to it the tetragonal fergusonite. 3 The mineralogical characteristics of these pegmatites are its abundance of sodium and lithium bearing minerals; when mica exists it is no longer potash-mica, but lepidolite and zinwaldite rich inlithia. Biotite is common to two types of pegmatite, of which I have recently stated the different characteristics. (Comptes Rendus, vol. 155, 1912, p. 441.) 4I have given in my Minéralogie de la France et de ses Colonies (vol. 4, p. 695) a detailed study, accom- panied by numerous photographs, of these blendings of various colors, submitted with some interesting models in harmony with the ternary symmetry and occasionally with the hemimorphisms of the mineral 6 In the pegmatites with the blue bery] these tourmaline crystals are sometimes of colossal dimensions (more than a meter). TRIP TO MADAGASCAR—LACROIX. 379 The beryl is common enough.' It is of a pale rose or dark carmine color, so unusual that it is proposed to give to it a special name, that of ‘‘morganite.”’ Spodumene,? almost everywhere else epaque, is found in a limpid form, of a beautiful rose color with a tinge of lilac, accompanied by an exceptional brilliancy, and this variety, the ‘‘kunzite,” forms a magnificent stone, rivaling the one which until then had been found only in California. However, J must mention a garnet,’ the spessartite, supplying some orange-colored gems having a refraction as odd as it is strong, besides a mineral making, also, its first appearance as a precious stone, the danburite,t which, once cut, is hard to distinguish from the yellow topaz of Brazil. Often inclosed in pegmatite and without distinct crystal forms, all these minerals, with many others besides,* show themselves in pockets of crystals, a description of which would not be out of place in a tale of the ‘‘Thousand and One Nights”; tiny grottos with marvelous walls illumined by the sparkling of thousands of crystals, and among them one does not know what to admire the most, the delicateness and perfection of the forms, the multiplicity and brilliancy of the faces, or the variety and richness of the colors. While they may form, like the aquamarie, some prisms of great dimensions, or even the smallest crystals, but with faces of a won- derful clearness, like those from the pockets, or again some shapeless fragments, all the transparent minerals taken from the open quar- ries ° are carried each evening to the foreman, called the commander, 1 The beryl of Madagascar does not always have the simple composition (silicate of alumina and glucina) that has long been attributed to it; very frequently, above all in the lithia-bearing pegmatites, part of the glucina is replaced by some alkalies, of molecular weights more or less considerable (lithium, rubidium, caesium), and this substitution at once prevents the increase of density and that of the indices of refrac- tion. This variation is continuous; ic is not necessarily connected with the color, but the light beryls are most often blue or green, the heavy ones more often rose. A knowledge of this property is very important in order to diagnose these precious stones, the density of which may vary from 2.70 to 2.90 and the indices in the following limits: ng—=1.5818 to 1.6021, np=1.5756 to 1.5953, in the specimens studied up to the present time, and which does not constitute, perhaps, the extremes of that series. I should add in addition to this that the very dense beryls, instead of being lengthened near the vertical axis, as in the very light ones, are flattened near the base. I have discussed that question recently in the Bulletin de la Société frangaise de minéralogie, volume 31, 1912, page 200, and in some previous articles. 2 This mineral belongs to the pyroxene group, of which it shews the crystals; it is a silicate of alumina and lithia. 3 The spessartite is an alumina and manganese garnet, containing a little lime; that orange color is special to Madagascar; it can be compared, but it is not identical with the spessartite of North Carolina. In the aquamarine beryl pegmatites some garnet is also found, but it is the almandine, red and opaque. 4 This mineral is a silico-borate of lime; I announced its existence in Madagascar (Bull, Soc. frang. minér., vol. 31, 1908, p. 314), from some crystals from the valley of the Sahatany. 6 We should also mention among the minerals found in pegmatite apatite, rhodizite, and blomstran- dite; as to erystalized minerals from pockets, they are quartz, microcline, albite, tourmaline, beryl, and lepidolite, to which we should add two new mineral species that I have called “‘bityite’’ (Comptes Rendus, vol. 146, 1908, p. 1367) and the ‘‘manandonite”’ (Bull. Soe. frang. minér., vol. 35, 1912). 6 In a few deposits the pegmatite is found intact and very hard. More often it is either kaolinized or lateritized, and in these two cases it has become soft enough to be quarried with the pickax or shovel; the gems can then be easily extracted. In many of the beds they work on éluvions, collecting the pegmatite in placeor fallen toitsimmediate vicinity. 380 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. following the ancient customs of our old colonies. The foreman, with a little hammer or pincers, without regard for geometrical beauty, for which mineralogists have a sort of worship, applies him- self to breaking out the stone,! an operation which consists in reduc- ing the mass to small pieces, in order to detach the limpid portions and to separate them not only from the rest of the veinstone, but from all that which, in the material, is not usable, and it is under this rough form of angular débris that the gems are exported to Europe for the final cutting. The alluvial deposits are very different from deposits ‘‘en place” and less attractive. Minerals are no longer found in any sort of collective relation in their mother rock. Under the influence of the phenomena of alteration during centuries, they have been detached from their gangue little by little, drawn away from the place of their origin by the superficial trickling down, and hurried along much more quickly as they are less dense until they have been carried a long distance by torrents and mixed with other species of different nature and origin. Under the tumultuous waters which consume the most resistant mountains, pursuing without truce a sort of eternal struggle for life, the weak minerals, the soft and fragile ones, are worn away, crushed by the strong, I should say by the hard minerals, and are eliminated in the form of fine clay; the strong resist much longer, but whatever they are, their crystals sooner or later lose the brilliancy of their faces, the keenness of their edges, and before disappearing in their turn they are reduced to the condition of round pebbles. Among them, of equal hardness, those are preserved the longest that are devoid of physical blemishes. This is a gigantic mechanical preparation, a formidable cutting, effected by natural action. It is a selection through force and beauty. Further, the gems that subsist in beds, where they are often asso- ciated with heavy and precious minerals, such as gold, pertain to a number of more limited species; though as a rule they are less abun- dant, yet the proportion of beautiful stones in such cases is generally great. At Madagascar these stones are chiefly corundums, garnets,? occasionally some chrysoberyl, some spinel, and topaz. One of the most typical of the alluvial deposits among those I visited is found to the southwest of Ambositra, in the bed of the small river Ifémpina. Its boundary is not at all a wilderness of weeds like the Sahatany, but a forest in all its splendor, impenetrable 1In certain works the cutting is not done in the camp (toby), but at the prospector’s headquarters (Ant sirabé for example). 2 The most frequent is almandine, which shows a wide range of color from dark red toa pretty rose. Many of the cut almandines come from éluvions. TRIP TO MADAGASCAR—LACROIX. 381 outside the beaten tracks, a forest whose glades set in great trees are peopled with many-colored birds and agile lemurs. The few habitations along the path that led me there were no longer the small white molded clay houses of Imerina, but light wooden huts built on piles. The landscape is no more enlivened by the white ‘‘lambas”’ of the Hova; the natives that roam in the woods are half nude; they are the Tanalas with hairy faces. The washing of the alluvia with the aid of primitive sluices and the “batée,”’ still more primitive, yields, with some gold, many crystals of corundum‘ much rolled. Most of them are opaque but some are transparent. By an irony of nature, that does not fail to rise again, and not without bitterness, the prospector, who kindly allowed us to visit his works—it is the uncolored corundum which forms the largest crystals—could weigh them up to 500 grams. Their limpidity is so perfect that they might well be classed as magnificent precious stones, but of a difficult setting; nevertheless the least among them would bring a fortune if it had the color of the smallest rubies and sapphires which accompanies them. In order to find the deposits rich in rubies, and especially in sap- phires, you must climb toward the north on the volcanic massif of Ankaratra, where are worked some basaltic alluvia containing débris of granitic subtraction, the original source of the crystals of corun- dums and zircons which accompany them.’ Such are the precious stones of Madagascar, numerous, varied, and beautiful. Beryls, tourmalines, kunzite, spessartite, and uncolored corundum, in particular, could cope through their limpidity, their color, and their brilliancy with similar gems of the best known deposits of Brazil, of Ceylon, of California. Some of them, the rose beryls and the yellow tourmalines, for example, are unrivaled through- out the world. They need only to be known. As the new comes to everything, so these must conquer their right to live. I have the pleasure of presenting these to you in recognition of the pleasures that their study and their pursuit has afforded me in traversing the vast solitary places of the high plateaus illuminated by the clear sky of the southern winter, in traversing the somber vaults and dense forest. 1 The corundum crystals of this deposit are at times transformed into absolutely round pebbles, and moreover, ‘rom the situation of lfempina and the position of the point situated up the stream where they commence to find them, they can roll on a course only a few kilometers. It is true that the valley is very winding, hollowed between cliffs of granite and gneiss; they could be used on the spot as some sort of caul- drons for giants. 2 By their properties and their kind of deposition these stones are identical with those of Velay (Espaly near Le Puy and Le Coupet). 382 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The knowledge of gems constitutes only a small part of miner- alogical questions which are presented in Madagascar. Its extinct voleanoes, its rocks and their minerals, its ores, their composition, their mutual relations, their genesis, their modes of alteration deserve in the highest degree the attention of men of science. Fifteen years of work on these materials of all kinds accumulated in my laboratory of the museum through the devotion and intelligent curiosity of explorers, officers, administrators, of colonists, prospec- tors, had very often made me dream of the Great Isle. This dream has become a reality. This has not in the least dis- appointed the hopes that had been born in my mind. THE FLUCTUATING CLIMATE OF NORTH AMERICA. By EvtswortH HUNTINGTON, [With 10 plates.] PART I. THE RUINS OF THE HOHOKAM. During his connection with the Pumpelly expedition sent out by the Carnegie Institution in 1903-4 to Transcaspia and adjacent regions the present author came to the conclusion that in the dry regions of central Asia the climate of the past was distinctly moister than that of the present. During the next two years an expedition by way of India to Chinese Turkestan, in company with Mr. R. L. Barrett, led him to extend this conclusion over a wider area and to believe that the change of climate has not progressed regularly, but by pulsations. Still another expedition to Palestine, Asia Minor, and Greece in 1909 on behalf of Yale University seemed to confirm the pulsatory theory, and to show that the general course of history for at least 3,000 years has been in harmony with the supposed climatic pulsations. Moreover, the observations of others, even of men such as Beadnell, who do not believe that the climate of the earth has changed in recent times, seem to indicate that north Africa, on the one hand, and central Europe on the other, as well as southern Europe and large parts of Asia, have also been subject to climatic changes. Thus there seems good ground for the conclusion that during historic times essentially synchronous climatic pulsa- tions have taken place in all of the vast region of the Temperate Zone from China on the east, across Asia and Europe, to the Atlantic on the west. Obviously, if such pronounced and widespread changes have occurred in the Eastern Hemisphere, there is a possibility that changes of a similar nature may have taken place in America. Accordingly when Dr. D. T. MacDougal, director of the Department of Botanical Research of the Carnegie Institution of Washington, invited the author to cooperate with the Desert Laboratory at Tucson, Ariz., in a climatic study of the arid southwestern portion of North America, the opportunity seemed too good to be neglected. Three seasons, consisting of three months in the spring of 1910, 1 Reprinted, by ee VE ie ane author, from The Gederaphical, Journal, London, vee Sep- tember and October, 1912. 383 384 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. four months in 1911, and four in 1912, have now been spent in the field. The time was divided between the States of New Mexico, Arizona, and California in the United States, and Sonora, Mexico City, Oaxaca, and Yucatan in Mexico. Most of the methods of investigation were similar to those which the writer has employed in Asia, and led to a similar result. To these, however, were added some significant observations upon the relation of tropical jungle and tropical forest to civilization in Yucatan, and a series of highly conclusive measurements of trees. Both of these new and inde- pendent lines of observation confirm previous conclusions, but in the present article the facts as to Yucatan must be omitted for lack of space. Omitting all consideration of the effect of climatic changes upon the form of the earth’s surface, the composition of soil, the distribu- tion of animals, and various other lines of thought, let us turn at once to the vestiges of pre-Columbian man found in the southwestern part of America. Some, such as the cliff dwellings and the great irrigation works and villages of the Gila Valley in southern Arizona, are famous. A far larger number, however, have received almost no attention even from archeologists. The reason is obvious. In most cases the ruins are so insignificant that an unobservant traveler might ride miles through what was once a region thickly studded with vil- lages without being aware of the fact. Walls for defensive purposes upon the mountains or pictographs upon the face of the rocks are apt to attract attention, but few people notice the far more important sites of villages scattered in profusion over thousands of square miles, especially in southern Arizona, New Mexico, and the neighboring parts of Sonora. The sites are now reduced to barren expanses strewn with ornamented bits of pottery, flint knives and arrow heads, stone hammers and axes, mani and metate stones for grinding seeds, and in some cases rectangular lines of bowlders placed erect at inter- vals of a foot or two and evidently outlining the walls of ancient houses. Here and there a little mound a foot or two high shows where an ancient dwelling was located. In almost every village an oval hollow surrounded by a low wall covers an area 100 or 200 feet long by half as wide—not a reservoir, as one at first supposes, but probably a ceremonial chamber of some sort. Aside from these scanty traces nothing remains. Yet there can be no question that these were once ancient villages. Frequently the ground is full of bits of pottery to a depth of 2 feet or more, while the surface is so strewn with similar bits that one can not walk without treading on them. The houses were probably built for the most part of branches wattled with mud. Such houses disappear quickly when abandoned, for the wood decays and the clay used for wattling blows away or else is spread over the ground in such a way as not to be noticeable. The CLIMATE OF NORTH AMERICA—-HUNTINGTON. 385 more well-to-do members of the community apparently had more pretentious houses, the remains of which are probably to be found in the larger heaps of clay and rubble which occur in most villages. Close to the mountains, or in regions where stone was available, other methods of construction prevailed. There we find every type of architecture, from houses which used stone only in a single course in the bottom of the walls, to structures made entirely of roughly squared stone blocks. Some of these stone structures were cliff dwellings of three stories in front of caves, while others were isolated buildings standing in the middle of a plain and still rising three or four stories even after the lapse of one or two thousand years. The majority of the villages must have been inhabited for a long time. Even where the houses have entirely disappeared, the amount of broken pottery covering the ground indicates that a busy popula- tion lived here for centuries. The modern Papago Indians still use pottery to almost the same extent as before the coming of the white man, yet the amount of broken pottery in their chief villages, which have been inhabited at least 50 years, is insignificant, while that in the ruins is as great as in many Asiatic ruins which are well known to have been occupied hundreds of years. I emphasize this point because American archeologists and ethnologists have labored under a peculiar impression which amounts almost to an hallucination. Being convinced that no change of climate has occurred, they have been forced to the peculiar theory that the ancient people of America, the ‘‘Hohokam” or ‘‘Perished ones,’’ as the modern Pimas call them, were of a different nature from the rest of mankind. It has been supposed that these ancient Hohokam were extraordinarily mobile and extraordinarily industrious. For instance, in the Thir- teenth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (p. 259), Minde- leff, one of the best authorities, says that ‘‘a band of 500 village-building Indians might leave the ruins of 50 villages in the course of a single century.” He assumes a degree of mobility unpar- alleled among any modern agricultural people, or among any of whom we have historic records. His assumption also carries with it the corollary that the Hohokam must have spent most of their time in building houses, or in making pottery with which to strew the ground and give an appearance of age to their villages. Hunting tribes are, of course, mobile in the highest degree, but the people with whom we are dealing were strictly agricultural, as is universally agreed. The ruins of their villages are invariably located close to agricultural land, or at least to land which would be available for agriculture if there were water enough; their number, even according to those who hold the migratory theory, was too great to allow of their obtaining a living by hunting; they had no domestic animals on which to rely; and finally, traces of corn and beans, the two staple products, are found in 386 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. almost every ruin. Accordingly, in the following discussion we shall follow the archeologists in assuming that the ancient Hohokam were an agricultural people. We shall depart from them, however, in assuming that, in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, the Hohokam were like the rest of mankind, and their ruins are to be interpreted by the same criteria as those universally employed in the study of the archeology of other parts of the world. With these assumptions in mind, we are prepared to investigate the relation of the ancient population to rainfall. Let us first con- centrate our attention upon a single region, the Santa Cruz Valley of southern Arizona. I select this valley, not because it is particu- larly remarkable, but because it happens to contain Tucson, the site of the Desert Laboratory. This town is the largest in the two States of New Mexico and Arizona, although it has only 16,000 people, including all its suburbs. - The reason for the scantiness of population is found in the climate. The average rainfall at Tucson amounts to about 12 inches. This is distributed between two rainy seasons; one of them comes in the winter from November to March, and has an average of about 5 inches of rain, while the other, with 7 inches of rain, begins at the end of June and lasts until early in September. The months of April, May, and June, or the foresummer, as MacDougal has called them, are practically rainless and very hot, and the same is true of the interval from the end of the summer rains to the beginning of those of winter. Nothing can be raised without irrigation of some sort. Since the coming of the white man, winter crops, such as barley, alfalfa, and the like, have become important. The Indians, however, cultivated practically nothing except corn and beans, which they irrigated by means of the summer floods. The Santa Cruz Valley has a length of at least 200 miles, but most of it is well-nigh a desert, and can be utilized only for cattle raising. According to Prof. R. H. Forbes, director of the Arizona Experiment Station, the entire drainage area of the Santa Cruz River contains only about 6,000 acres of land under cultivation. Part of the 6,000 acres is under full irrigation and produces four or five crops of alfalfa per year, while a considerable portion is only under flood irrigation and produces but one crop each year, when the heavy rains of July and August redeem the desert for a brief space. Under the best system of irrigation available in modern times, Prof. Forbes estimates that for every 2 acres brought under full cultivation one person is added to the population of Arizona. In other words, if the Santa Cruz Valley were cut off from all the rest of the world and left to its own resources without railways, mines, health-seekers, or other extraneous sources of wealth, the population would be limited to the 3,000 who could be supported on the 6,000 acres of irrigated or CLIMATE OF NORTH AMERICA—HUNTINGTON. 387 partly irrigated land. To this number nothing could be added by dry farming without irrigation; for Prof. Forbes expressly states that at the present time, in spite of various attempts, no such thing as genuine dry farming exists in the State of Arizona. Promising experiments give hope of some success in the future, but they involve repeated and expensive plowing of the soil after each short period of rain, and this must be kept up for two years before any crop can be harvested. It may safely be assumed that the ancient Hohokam, with no iron tools, no beasts of burden, and no great knowledge of science, could scarcely cultivate as much land as the modern Ameri- can. Moreover, as they had no winter crops, they could scarcely have raised as much food per acre as is now possible, even had they not been otherwise handicapped. For the sake of argument, how- ever, let us suppose that with the aid of game, wild fruits, and seeds in bad years, and with their lower standards of living, the Hohokam, if they were here to-day under the present conditions of climate, might support themselves to a maximum number of four or five thousand. Granting that four or five thousand Hohokam might possibly find a living in the Santa Cruz Valley under present climatic conditions, let us see where they would be located. Inasmuch as the ancient people were agricultural, they must have lived where both land and water were available. At present about 1,500 of the 6,000 arable acres are at the Indian reservation and old Spanish mission of San Xavier, 9 miles up the Santa Cruz to the south of Tucson. Six or seven hundred Indians now live there, cultivating the land, raising cattle, and going out to the neighboring city to work. In the days of the Hohokam a somewhat dense population lived at San Xavier, as is proved by various ruins, including a fort on a hilltop. Around Tucson itself the modern houses and streets make it impossible to determine exactly how large an area was occupied by the Hohokam. In all the outskirts of the town, however, pottery and other evidences of early man are abundant, and there is a fort on Tumamoc Hill, where the Desert Laboratory is now located. Evidently many Hohokam lived near Tucson and cultivated the 2,000 acres which can there be irrigated. ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 493 resistance against bacterial or other poisons (chicken, mouse, rabbit, man). As is well known, many of the lower plants and animals multiply by simple fission, and the resulting elements attain in course of time the form and size of the parent. Or they may multiply by having a bud developing on any part of the body, which in time assumes the form of the entire parent or animal upon which it is developed, usually separating from the parent to lead an independent existence. Multiplication of this type by fission or budding may occasionally occur in many higher animals or plants, especially so when they have been injured by mechanical separation, and each part possesses the power to regenerate the lost portion. In this asexual reproduction we realize best that the offspring resembles the parent, or in other words that the peculiarities of the parent have been transmitted to the offspring. We even accept this when the parents have acquired new characters in their individual existence, for why should the pieces possess different characters than the material from which they sprang unchanged ? Still, it is not necessarily true that newly acquired characters must appear in the progeny. Metalnikow fed Protozoa with grains of carmine and India ink. Although they devoured those indigestible particles at first, they nevertheless gradually learned to push them aside and to avoid them. But as soon as fission had rendered the organ- ism into two daughter cells, these seemed to be ignorant of the indi- gestibility of the carmine or India ink, for they devoured both greedily. Leaving out of consideration the constituents or peculiarities of those elementary building blocks of life, the so-called cells, this simple experiment, recently challenged, it is true, by Schiéfer, demonstrates the following fundamental facts: That even in reproduction by simple fis- sion germplasm, which contains the material for the next generation, must be distinguished from the purely individual somaplasm, which perishes with the single example. The bodily peculiarities, be they young or old, must be impressed upon the germplasm of the next generation in order that they may not become lost but may continue. With this, then, we state that asexual reproduction does not differ as far as their principles is concerned, from sexual reproduction. If we find transmission of acquired characters in organisms which multiply asexually, we may therefore attribute to them the same significance as in those which reproduce by the sexual methods. Jennings found curiously misshaped examples of a Protozoan (the slipper animalcula Paramaecium, fig. 1),1 in densely populated cultures, where there was a lack of food. Jennings transplanted one of these from the poor medium into one presenting favorable conditions and followed the progeny through 22 1 The figures are reproduced on plates 1 to 8. 424 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. generations. In the resulting products of this repeated division, one part was always normal while the other inherited a hornlike pro- cess. There was considerable difference in the form and size of this process, as well as in its position; at times it appeared anteriorly, then in the middle or posteriorly, so that the progeny would obtain this process from the anterior or posterior extremity of the parent. From the nineteenth generation on, the process remained on the anterior end, assuming a peculiar function; the animal used it as a gliding shoe and moved upon it on the walls and bottom of the container. While Jennings produced this horn like process through lack of food, McClendon produced the same by means of a centrifugal or rapid whirling of the Protozoan. In the first following fission the daughter cells each possessed a horn. Later, as in Jennings’s ex- periments, only one of the daughter cells was provided with a horn, the second one, being normal, gave rise to normal progeny only. Another new character, on the other hand, also resulting from insufficient food in cultures, made by Jennings and McClendon, could, in spite of transfer into a rich food medium, be transmitted even by apparently normal examples, namely, the tendency to incomplete fission (fig. 16), in which the daughter individuals remain attached, forming chains. In this manner long wormlike colonies arise, from which now and then an individual becomes separated; this, however, produces chains again, directly, or these are formed by its progeny. Similar fusion was produced by Stole in a worm, Aeolosoma hem- prichw (fig. 2), which multiplies by budding—that is, asexually, by the use of old culture water containing scant nourishment. In this case the phenomena is not transmitted to the progeny, again a reminder that asexual reproduction does not always embrace a complete transmission of all the characters, whether inherited or acquired. This worm normally has a smooth head and six pairs of bundles of setee, on the sides of the body (1-V1). In the reproduction (fig. 27), a new head and body with six pairs of bundles of bristles (sete) are budded at the posterior end and later detached. But when subjected to starvation the bud fuses with the main stem into a single individual (fig. 2b), which now possesses more bundles (sete) than the normal worm. If this individual be now placed in a fresh food medium and begins to bud there (b7), it will produce from the very beginning only individuals with six pairs of bundles of setee. Likewise, the offspring are provided with the normal number of sete, when budded from a parent which, instead of having an increased number of sete produced by hunger, has a lesser number produced by mechanical separation (fig. 2a). ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 495 Another Polychete fresh-water worm (Lumbriculus, fig.3), possesses like the rest of the worms, the ability to develop into new worms, from pieces cut from the body. However, according to Morgulis, not all parts of the body are able to accomplish this. If five segments are taken from the anterior region of the body (A), these will yield exactly double as many caudal segments as five segments taken from the posterior portion (B) are able to yield. After 14 days the new tails, a, 6, are detached and these now produce a new head anter- iorly; a,, ,, so that complete worms, although they are somewhat dwarfed, are again produced. These dwarfed worms are again robbed of their tails and must sprout another last set of tails. But one of these forms (8), produces only about half as many tail seg- ments as the other (A). This is the result of the stronger growth power of the anterior end of the original worm, while the other is the result of the lesser growth power of the posterior segments of the original worm. The peculiar abilities of these parts have been retained in spite of the fact that the pieces were finally subjected to the same process—that is, to produce caudal segments of the head end. Differently stated, the anterior end, derived from the posterior end, has acquired the character of lesser development and transmits this to its progeny even asexually. Recently the question of acquired characters has been diligently studied in small crustaceans. Their reproduction is a sexual one, in so far as it does not take place through budding or fission, but through the production of true germ cells. But it does not agree with our idea of orthodox sexual reproduction, since many genera- tions may pass without the appearance of males. The reproductive products at such times are purely feminme—that is, eggs which develop without having been fertilized by a male cell, the sperma- tozoan. We may distinguish this form of reproduction from sexual reproduction, in the restricted sense, or bisexual reproduction, as unisexual or parthenogenetic reproduction. The investigators who have been engaged in the study of these lower crustaceans, and have in part or wholly bred them parthenogenetically from unfertilized egos, have avoided the criticism which has often been expressed where animals were produced by the bisexual method of reproduction, namely, that the changes obtained in these animals, the product of bisexual reproduction, were not due to an adaptation to the environ- ment, but to the crossing of races, in which certain characters, which had up to this time been hidden in the germplasm, had come to the surface. To the breeding experiments, in which the above criticism can not apply, belongs, among others of recent date, also one of the most important older works, the experiments of Schmankewitsch (1875). This deals with the effect produced upon the form of the saline crustacean (Artemia salina, fig. 4, 1), by varying the salinity 426 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. of the medium in which it lives. These experiments have been more than once subjected to scathing criticism, which is undeserved, as can be demonstrated by an examination of the original sources. By increasing the salinity, Artemia salina passes in several generations nearer and nearer, and eventually completely mto the related species Ariemia Miihihausenti. On the other hand, by reducing the salinity, it assumes a number of characters which are peculiar to a fresh- water species, the gillfoot (Branchipus, fig. 4, 2). This is most apparent in the gradually emphasized development of the appen- dages and the ciliation pending from them. These hairs are at first wanting (1a); then they appear scattered only on the tip of the ter- minal caudal segment (1b-d); but finally they surround the entire border as a fringe, having attained an equal length at the same time (lef) Among the many experiments which have been made recently upon the lower crustaceans, those conducted by Woltereck upon the long- spined water flea (Daphnia longispina) may be mentioned. In the Untersee, near Lunz (lower Austria), lives a race in which the head helmet is low. By feeding these well, in the basin of a hothouse, Woltereck saw them develop into high-helmed forms. If one trans- plants these artificially produced high-helmed races into their former habitat within two years, then all their progeny returns to the low- helmed form. Later offspring, however, remain more high-helmed than the original stock, even when they are returned to normal conditions. Ostwald obtained a similar picture without inheritance in an allied genus, Hyalodaphnia (fig. 5). He placed high-helmed females (laa,), which contained eggs in the broodpouch that were undergoing development, in cold water (0° to 5° C.) and obtained (1bb,) short-helmed young. Moderately high-helmed gravid females (1laa), placed in moderately warm water (8° to 18° C.), yielded moderately high-helmed young (1106,), while short-helmed females (111aa,), placed in warm water (20°C.), produced high-helmed young (11108,). T shall now cite a series of examples in which the transmission of an intentionally produced variation in higher plants and animals has been demonstrated. The offspring necessary for these demonstra- tions were produced by the usual bisexual methods—that is, through the fertilization of an ovum; both parents may have been subjected to the change-producing environment, or only one of the parents may have been changed, the other being normal. The nature of the experi- mental variation was as variable as the organism in which it was produced—small and large butterflies, flies, beetles, water and land salamanders, frogs, toads, lizards, chickens, dogs, guinea pigs, rab- bits, rats, and mice. Various kinds of grain and higher flowering plants have yielded positive answers in our experiments: to say ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 427 nothing of the lower plants or animals, the bacteria, yeast, and smut fungi, the alge, and flagellates. The characters which could be changed or newly formed in the higher organisms include size, form, color, developmental stages, habits of locomotion, food, reproduction, and nidification. Of all these groups of acquired changes, I can give only one or two examples. In many instances several of the men- tioned groups of variations are combined im a single case, so that in spite of all the necessary concentration, quite a comprehensive survey of the field will result. Tf we begin with a case which in a sense is not one of true trans- mission, for in this it is a foreign body, not a part of the animal which is transmitted by the parent to the offspring. Sitowski fed the caterpillars of a moth (Tineola biselliella) with an aniline dye, ‘Sudan red No. 111.” The colored caterpillar developed into a complete moth, and these moth deposited colored eggs (fig. 6B), from which colored caterpillars emerged; normally the eggs and caterpil- lars are white (fig. 6b). Similar results were obtained by Gage with guinea pigs and by Riddle with chickens. These experiments are of interest because they show how easily the germ plasm is reached. In this case it was accomplished by an external chemical factor through the roundabout way of the somaplasm. In the body the fats are especially colored by the sudan red and in the egg the fatty substances which are attacked by it. We may consider the coloring of the living tissue (vital staining) comparable to the immigration of green alge into the egg of the green fresh-water polyp (Hydra viridis). The green color of this polyp is due to microscopic iow plants (algee), which live in the cells of the polyp and even infest the maturing egg. M. Nussbaum has called this a transmission of an acquired character, for it stands to reason that this association with the alge must have been acquired somewhere. If we consider size, then we find a ready example which also em- braces changes in color and food habit—the caterpillar of the gypsy moth Lymantia s. Ocneria dispar—in. which the males are strongly differentiated from the females. These caterpillars feed naturally upon the leaves of the oak and fruit trees. Pictet fed them upon the hard leaves of the walnut. At first they fed poorly, but the following generation fed upon the nut leaves without hesitation. The resulting generation of moth are dwarfed and paler in both sexes. Traces of this are still recognizable after two generations, even when they have been returned to normalfood. On the other hand, if one feeds two consecutive generations with the abnormal food, they return to the normal form, evidently because the caterpillar has learned to digest the strange food as well as that to which it was formerly accustomed. Feeding with the tender Esparsette produces giant forms and saturated color, as well as gray, instead of yellow, breast 428 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. hairs. If the first generation is fed with walnut leaves, the second with oak leaves, and the third with Esparsette, then the characters of all three food-response forms are united in the last generation. Schréder likewise obtained in the small willow-leaf beetle Phratora vitellinae (fig. 7, lower right) an inheritable food change, but which at the same time forced the animals affected to a change in locomotion combined with a change in reproduction. The larve of this beetle, usually fed upon the leaves of a smooth species of willow (fig. 7A), were unable to feed upon the surface and were forced to mine in the tissue of the leaf. When both willows were at the disposal of the resulting beetles (B, b; C, c, etc.), then these fastened their eggs, increasingly with each generation from the very begmning, freely to the new food plant. Another experiment by Schréder affected the nidification of a small moth (Gracilaria stigmatella). The caterpillars of this moth are accustomed to roll in the tips of the willow leaves, which serve it as an abode and food. They are prevented from doing this when the tips of the leaves are cut off and are thus forced to roll up one or both edges of the leaf. The progeny of the third generation do this in part spontaneously, even when the leaves have not been mutilated. Plants, too, yield positive results when they are examined for transmission of acquired characters. I will have to pass over the many examples which have been noted in the asexually reproduced spore plants, bacteria, yeasts, smuts, and alge. I can only mention those produced sexually, usually by self-fertilization of the bisexual flowers. Klebs grew Gamander-Ehrenpreis (Veronica chamaedrys) , a species of quite constant form under especially favorable food conditions, in moist, well fertilized beds. If the feeding sap stream was driven into the flowering stalk by the cutting away of the main stem and any new lateral shoots which might develop, then these changed quite rapidly into leaf shoots. No new flowers with their accompanying bract were added, but in their place only broad coarsely serrate green leaves. The disposition to this leafy efflorescence is increased in the seedlings of such changed plants, even without mutilation in the free bed, and, under food conditions which were little more favorable than those in which the wild plants grew, several seedlings showed a change of their unbranched determinate flower stalks into branched indeter- minate leaf shoots. Recent experiments were made by Klebs upon the short-leafed live-for-ever (Sempervivum acuminatum). This was carefully grown and the development of the flower stalk watched; then the flowers were examined, and, if found normal, the whole flower stalk was cut off. New flower stalks now developed ‘of a different form, with changes in the number. and position of the flowers, pistils, and sta- ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 499 mens. The coralla was at times completely absent and the stamens were more or less changed into petals and whole flowers appeared as leaf rosettes. All these changes appeared at one time in one and the same plant. But nevermore than one of the several changes appeared in asingle individual resulting from the close fertilized seeds of this plant; that is, either only a change in the position and the number of the flowering parts, or the changing of the flowers into leaves, or only the change of the stamens into petals occurred. The last two changes were emphasized in the seedlings. No changes could be demon- strated in the female flowers, for example, the complete lack of petals, but instead of this a new change not observed in the parent flower became manifested, namely, a peculiar distantly spaced position of the sepals, which was noticeable. Blaringhem, by the use of mechanical methods, mutilation, and twisting of the main stem, attacked a normal race of maize, Indian corn (Zea mays pennsylvanica), to produce varying forms. As a result thereof, manifold abnormal forms appeared already in the parent plant, of which only a part recurred in the seedlings. Not transmissible was a variation, in which the seeds appeared separated upon the cob; nor a second, with chaffy ears and red instead of green leaves; nor a third, in which all the flowers of the ear, which normally should have all been pistilate, had been changed to staminate flowers, without a change of form or of the husk. The following changes, however, remained constant upon further cultivation, without renewed mutilation; a race with stamens upon the cob; that is, bisexual ears. Normally the ears, which develop on the side of the stem from the axil of the leaves of the Mays plant, are purely pistilate fruit-flowers, while the terminal spikes at the summit of the stem are purely staminate. However, the stamens growing between the pistilate flowers were unable to produce pollen. Blaringhem calls this race ‘‘Zea mays var. pseudo-androgyna;” i. e., ‘‘ the false her- maphrodite.” Another constant form was an early ripening race with many densely crowded somewhat irregular rows of seeds, pos- sessing also a different form of stem and number of leaves. Blaring- hem calls this ‘‘Zea mays var. semi-praccoz,” ‘‘the half early.” Finally, a strongly different form, which blooms and ripens even earlier, with remarkably small ears and staminate spikes, in which the spikes, which should be purely staminate, are in part or wholly changed into mere scars; that is, they have assumed the form of the pistilate flower, which is intended to capture the pollen. Blaringhem calls this form, ‘‘Zea mays praecoz,” ‘‘the very early,’”’ and considers it a new distinct species. All the experiments so far cited pertain to plants or invertebrate animals. To succeed in these experiments it is necessary to watch the particular organism for at least two generations, and to keep 430 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. them, in spite of the unnatural conditions, in such a state of health that they will undergo reproduction even while in captivity. On account of the short period of life and rapid sexual maturity, no great difficulties were encountered while using these lowly-organized animals. Among the plants, the gardeners and farmers have always looked to it that the technical problems pertaining to these were placed in their hands, even before experimentation, and the study of life phenomena upon the living object was undertaken by biology. A lesser consideration was bestowed upon the animals, especially the so-called ‘‘cold-blooded”’ vertebrates. Zoological gardens contained only mammals and birds. The use of aquaria and terraria as a pas- time, which later on lent much assistance to the rearing of organisms for scientific purposes, was still in its infancy, when, with their aid, easily solved problems began to play a part in biology. They also play a part when it is desired to change the normal conditions under which an organism exists. While the botanist often knows, almost instinctively, how he must treat a plant which he receives for the first time, the zoologist, on the other hand, stands almost helpless, though dealing with much better known forms, when he finds them dying on his hands. For my own experiments I had selected charges which demanded considerable attention, and I had to arrange a special technique, step by step, to make it possible to keep these animals, mostly reptiles and amphibians, alive and to have them multiply. Owners of vivaria, who may be among my listeners, may answer that it is not at all difficult to keep a treetoad, toad, or salamander for years in very simple surroundings—a small box with moss and some water. This is very true, but such animals will never multiply under such conditions, although they may live a long time. Furthermore, such conditions would have hardly helped me, for example, to still have living midwife toads (Alytes obstetricans), which I collected in Appenzell in the summer of 1894, and some fire salamanders (Sala- mandra maculosa), which I have had since I was 12 years old, or more than 18 years. The difficulties reach their zenith when one con- siders the problem of keeping a shade and moisture loving salamander, in brilliant light, on dry sand and colored paper, placing only a small vessel with water and a very small nest of moist moss at its disposal, or when one takes care of a lizard, which normally loves dryness and sunlight, in comparatively cool, moist, and dark surroundings. Formerly I succeeded in getting the animals experimented upon to reproduce out of doors in so-called out-of-door terraria, or large cement basins. The greater number of these pets have now become domes- ticated, and they perform these functions in smaller contaimers in- doors. And now to the experiments themselves, for | intend to give you a somewhat more complete account of my rearing of the midwife ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 431 toad (Alytes obstetricans). In order to understand this, it becomes necessary to say a few words about the ordinary method of reproduc- tion in most of the toads and frogs (fig. 8). They deposit their small eggs, hundreds in number, in water. The eggs are surrounded by a jelly-like substance that unites them into bunches or strings (fig. 8a). Here the jelly-like covering swells at once about each dark-colored egg as a sharply-differentiated translucent ball (1b). The eggs remain without attention from the parents after deposition. The young (c) escape from the eggs. The free larve, so-called tadpoles, which at first are not provided with any special breathing apparatus, for they breathe with the outer skin (d), develop external gills after a few days (e), which are later retracted (f) and give way to inner gills (¢). But still for weeks the larva remains without feet (h). It develops first the posterior (2), then the anterior extremities (4, 1), after which the tail becomes shriveled and the narrow, horny jaw is replaced by the deeply cut mouth of the frog (m). Then the small complete frog jumps to land. There is only a single exception to this rule in Europe, the so-called midwife toad, or egg-bearing toad (fig. 9). In this the deposition of eges takes place on Jand and a comparatively small number of eggs (18-83) are produced, but which, on account of their great yolk mass, appear large and light colored (fig. 9, 2a). The jelly capsules which connect these eggs into a chain can not swell in the air, but, on the other hand, become contracted and fit closely to the surface of the ege. The male assists the female during oviposition by drawing the string of eggs from the cloaca. He also assists in the brooding of the eggs (comp. fig. 10, 7 ¢ ),winding the eggs about his thighs and carrying them about in this manner, until the young are ready to emerge. At this time the male with his burden enters the water, where the larve break their capsules. They do this not in the stage unprovided with special breathing organs, for this and the following stage, that with external gill, are passed over in the egg. The larva is still footless (fig. 9, 26), but has internal gills. The succeeding developmental stages agree with those of other frogs and toads—two- legged (2c), four-legged (2d), shriveling of the tail, and habitat change from water to land in the completed toad (2e). I was able to change the above-mentioned process considerably in four directions. In the first, the aquatic existence of the larva was much prolonged (fig. 9, the detail fig. 6). I gradually learned to what extent factors like darkness, cold, richness of oxygen in the water, overfeeding after previous starvation, and the early removal of the embryo from the egg, played in prolonging the metamorphic period of the toad. With each one ot these factors I obtained larvee which did not transform at the proper time, and which already in the larval stage attained considerable size, still, what is most important, 432 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. developed into adult toads at the advent of the reproductive period. The progeny resulting from these toads, in which the metamorphic changes had been delayed, underwent metamorphosis within the usual normal time. They therefore had failed to inherit the varying developmental process. It required the combination of all the above-mentioned factors to produce a sexually fertile toad larva (fig. 9, 6d). Their progeny (6C), although produced by the mating of the unique sexually fertile female larva with an ordi- nary completely developed mate, for years did not progress beyond the stage with developed hind legs and displayed little metamorphic energy. Secondly, the independence of water, which is already expressed in the normal reproduction of the midwife toad, by the phases passed over out of water during development was pushed to the limit. If one hastens all the processes of development by the employment of warmth and retards the hatching by withdrawing light and placing them in comparatively dry surroundings, then one obtains gigantic eges (fig. 9, 3a), in which the embryos remain until they have well- developed hind legs (3b). The toads developed from these are dwarfed and eggs laid by them are of lesser numbers than in the nor- mal toad, and possess from the very beginning a great amount of yolk, much more than in the usual eggs, and it is a curious sight to see a dwarfed male perform his brooding function with the very large few eggs. If one continued to apply the same stimuli to the eggs, then one again obtained larvee, with completely developed hind legs (3D); but if one transferred them into normal conditions as far as requirements of temperature, light, and moisture are concerned, larvee were obtained, which at hatching possessed bud-like hind legs (3C). Thirdly, one can develop the larve to the two-legged stage, away from water, simply on moist ground; in this, if danger of death threatens, one must return them to their normal element. The land larve (fig. 9, detail fig. 5) possess a thicker skin than the aquatic larvee, which is easily observed by the fact that in the aquatic larvee only (comp. fig. 9, 2c) the rumpmusculature is visible through the skin. The land larve possess also a narrower fin, but are stronger in the bones and musculature of the tail. The lungs are subjected to a curious modification in the aquatic larve; they are simple, smooth-walled tubes (2d); in land larve of the same age they have already been separated into lobules, alveoli, and sacs (5a), which approach, both in form and structure, those of the completed toad (2F). The toads developed from terrestrial larve are dwarfed. If one keeps the larva produced by these again out of water, then the ability to exist out of water is increased. A further stage (5C) is therefore reached than in the preceding generation, which extends to ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 433 the time when the fore limbs are about to erupt, and all adaptations to a terrestrial existence now appear emphasized. The fourth cycle of adaptation and inheritance. If one keeps gravid midwife toads in a high temperature (of 25° to 30° C.), then they omit the brooding stages above described and return to the primitive methods of reproduction peculiar to the rest of the toads and frogs. The unusual heat forces the animals to seek coolness in the water basin, which is at all times at their disposal. Here the sexes meet and fertilization and oviposition take place. But the moment the gelatine capsule of the egg comes in contact with the water, it swells (fig. 9, detail fig. 4a) and loses its viscosity and therefore its property to draw itself tightly about the thighs of the male later upon drying. The male is therefore unable to fasten it to its posterior extremities. The string of eggs therefore remains in the basin, in which a few of them develop in spite of the changed conditions. In the same proportion in which the seeking of the water and the completing of the reproductive processes without brooding become a habit, so that the animals even without the stimulus of high tempera- ture conduct themselves in this manner, do certain changes occur in the eggs and larvee which correspond to a closer approach to the original methods of reproduction of toads. The number of eggs and their ability to develop in water becomes decidedly increased. The aquatic eggs possess a lesser amount of yolk than the terrestrial eggs, and are therefore smaller and different in color, but owing to their swollen gelatine layer, they appear just as large as formerly. From these eggs emerge larve which belong to an earlier stage than those normally produced, representing an intermediate stage between this and that of the rest of the toads. They possess external gills, of which the midwife toad has only a single pair (the anterior), (fig. 9, detail fig. 4b). ‘Toads produced from such larve are distinguished from normally produced individuals by being considerably larger. In order to test the inheritance of these reproductive adaptations I permitted aquatic eggs derived from animals which had become accustomed to this mode of oviposition to develop under normal conditions, in a room in which the control animals are kept and in which these have kept normal. If the reproduction adaptation had become a changed instinct, then the transmission left nothing to be desired in the way of distinctness. The sexually matured young midwife toads sought the water with the beginning of their first reproductive period and deposited there their strings of numerous small, dark-colored eggs without bestowing any additional attention upon them. The aquatic eggs of later generations are still smaller and possess still thicker investments, the additional gelatine being obtained by a shortening of the spaces between the eggs in the string. The larve of later generations, derived from aquatic eggs (fig. 9, detail 434 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. figs. 4C, 4D), show an increase in dark pigment, a reduction of the yolk to its complete retrogression as well as changes in the gills, which become shortened, simplified, and coarser, and while usually only the first of the gill arches of the skeleton bears a gill, these appear on three of the free arches in the fourth generation (4D). The males, probably on account of the difficulty of clasping the female in the water, have developed as an adaptation coarse swellings on their thumbs, and also strengthened the musculation of the arms, which lend the forelimb a more inwardly flexed appearance. ‘These are external sexual characters which hold good in all toads and frogs that mate in the water, but which are not normal, for the midwife toad normally mates on land. The brooding instinct, or its absence, are peculiarities which fall to the lot of the male in the midwife toad. The character and devel- opment of the egg, on the other hand, are everywhere derived from the females. To cross normal midwife toads with such, in which the reproductive processes had been changed, presented some fas- cination. In our illustration (fig. 10) we have shown a normal male (7 ¢ ) with the affixed egg chain upon its thigh, in order to indi- cate that it will, if necessary, actually carry out the function of brooding. The changed male (8 ¢ ) is larger and has left the egg string with the smaller darker eggs, which are surrounded by a swelled capsule, lying unnoticed alongside of him. The normal females appear in the empty white field; it deposits its eggs, as we know, upon the earth. The larger changed female is in the shaded field because it deposits its eggs in the water. I cross in the one case (fig. 10, detail fig. 7P) a normal male with a changed female. ‘The offspring (fig. 1) prove at their first reproduction to be perfectly normal; the males brooding, the females depositing their eggs on land. I thought nothing less than that the habit change on account of the introduc- tion of the normal male in the parent generation had passed out. Alas, they reappeared in the second generation (7) almost exactly in a quarter of the offspring, the remaining three-fourths of the second generation being normal. An opposite crossing, a normal female with a changed male (fig. 10, detail fig. 8P), yielded the following results: The first generation (/,) takes exactly after the male parent; that is, all the individuals exhibit the reproduction changes resulting from the experiment, the females deposit the eggs in the water and the males do not brood. The second generation is one-fourth normal and the remaining three-fourths are changed. Let us now note the following scheme (fig. 11): It corresponds with the experiences which have frequently been obtained in crossing races of plants or animals. Namely, if one crosses a ‘‘dark” with a “light” race (fig. 11P), then one of the two peculiarities alone is dominant in the daughter or the first filial generation (F,), for exam- ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 435 ple, the ‘‘dark”’ one. If one produces a second filial generation from a pair of this apparently dark race, (/,), then ‘‘dark”’ again is domi- nant but only three-fourths, while the remaining fourth is ‘‘light”’ and causes the “‘light” of the grandparent to reappear. If one breeds from the ‘‘light,”’ then ‘‘dark’’ never reappears; the ‘‘light”’ is and remains pure. If one continues to breed the three-quarter ‘“‘dark” together, then one-fourth continues to breed pure ‘‘dark,”’ which always yields ‘‘dark”’ offspring, but the remaining two-fourths, when bred together, yield in the third filial generation (/,), another splitting into three-fourths “dark,” of which one-fourth is pure strain ‘‘dark’’ and two-fourths mixed, and one-fourth which is pure “light” strain. This continues as long as the inbreeding permits of the development of offspring. This inheritance scheme, of which our picture cites the simplest possible case, is called Mendel’s division scheme or prevalence rule, after its discoverer; that peculiarity which is entirely prevalent in the first generation and three-fourths in those following is called the dominant, and the name recessive is given to that peculiarity which is suppressed entirely in the first generation and reappears in one-fourth of those that follow. The numerical arrange- ment of these peculiarities in the progeny is usually not influenced by the sex of the parent bearing the dominant or recessive properties. This, however, is not true in the case of our crossings in the midwife toad. It is true, however, that these experiments fall in line with Men- del’s law, but the dominant factor is attached to the male, and a change in dominance depends upon whether we use a male possessing one or another peculiarity. On the other hand, the recessive char- acter in the case of the midwife toad is attached to the female. I feel convinced that this unusual change in the distribution of the habit between the two sexes which we have considered is of impor- tance. But this is secondary compared with the important result that acquired characters not only become transmitted but in the mixing with unchanged characters they follow Mendel’s law. The acquired character, therefore, has a chance to come forth pure, in a certain percentage, from the mixture of characters, and is thus pre- served. To this attaches, as we shall learn, a high degree of stability. The new character must have ceased to be a changing or unusual thing; it must have been transmitted to the organism, as we may say, in flesh and blood. Next to the midwife toad, the fire salamander (Salamandra macu- losa, figs. 12, 13), which lives in moist woods, has become a favorite of mine. If kept for several years upon yellow clay (fig. 12, P row), then his yellow markings become enriched at the expense of the black ground color. If half of the offspring of individuals which have thus become very yellow (fig. 12, /, row) be raised on yellow soil, the 436 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. amount of yellow increases and appears in broad regularly distrib- uted longitudinal bands. The other half of the offspring if grown on dark soil become less yellow, always, however, in close relation with the opposing influence of the color of the surroundings, and likewise in a regular order—in this instance as rows of spots along the sides of the body. If the parent generation of the fire salamander be raised on black garden soil (fig. 13, P row), after some years it becomes largely black, while the young kept upon black soil (/, row) have a row of small spots on the middle of the back. On the other hand, in young which in contrast with their parents have been raised on yellow soil, these spots fuse into a band. If we use yellow paper instead of yellow soil and begin our experi- ment, as we did before, with scantily spotted individuals, then we obtain enlargement, but no increase in the number of the spots. If we take black paper, then we obtain a reduction in the size of the spots without reduction in intensity of coloration. The young bear the few spots in the middle, while the normal young from the control brood in mixed surroundings at onee produce an irregular pattern of markings. Heavy moisture produces an increase of the yellow, but only in the number of spots, none in the size of the spots. Numerous but still small spots may be observed in the progeny put back into less moist surroundings. Comparative dryness results in loss of bril- liancy, but not in loss of size in the spots. The same phenomenon may be observed in the progeny which is again kept moist, especially when compared with the control brood which was kept under uni- form conditions. Striped fire salamanders occur not only as fancy products of breeding, but in some places (as in north Germany and southern Italy) they occur also in nature. If such examples be kept upon yellow soil, then the interruptions which may occur in their stripes are filled out and the completed bands become wider and send out cross bridges. If, on the other hand, animals with complete stripes be kept on black soil, the stripes become narrower and break up. I em- ployed striped salamanders for another experiment, using some which had been caught wild and some produced by artificial rearing from spotted individuals. I exchanged the ovaries, grafting these of the striped salamanders upon the spotted ones and that of the spotted salamander upon the striped females. I can not enter upon all the combinations of these experiments, especially not upon the use of suitable males, which in the attaining of safe results become very much involved, and would require much repetition. But the follow- ing result will hardly be altered: The ovaries taken from a spotted female which were implanted upon a wide striped female uniformly ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—KAMMERER. 437 yielded spotted young, while the ovaries from a spotted female im- planted on an experimentally changed striped individual yielded spotted, striped, and interrupted striped young. Commonly ex- pressed, we reached the following conclusions: 1. If one deals with completed race characteristics which have become established in the foreign body, the so-called nurse, then the progeny will correspond to the characters of that individual from which the ovary originated, not to that individual into whose body the ovary has been transplanted. 2. If one deals with only recently acquired, newly produced, or other characters which have been taken out of their equilibrium, which in the body of the nurse may quantitively diminish or increase, or may be on the point of becoming quantitively changed, then the progeny resembles, at least in part of its characters, that individual by which they were carried in the undeveloped state. In this case only there passed from the bodily peculiarities, which were still easily changed, being as it were, still new and unaccustomed to their pos- sessor, a sufficiently strong stimulus upon the reproductive elements. These results may at some future time prove valuable in harmo- nizing the contradictions which bave resulted from the experiments of other investigations in ovarian transplantation. For Guthrie, by exchanging the ovaries of black and white chickens, obtained an influence upon the chicks through the colored feather covering of the nurse. Magnus obtained the same results in black and white rabbits. Heape, on the other hand, in transplanting fertilized ova from white Angora rabbits into gray Belgian hares, obtained no such influences; nor did Castle by ovarian transplantation of black guinea pigs into white individuals; nor Poll, in the same operation upon gray and white mice; nor Morgan in operating upon Ciona intestinalis. My experiments in transplanting may serve to straighten out the controversy between the so-called neo-Mendelists and neo-Lamarck- ists. Let us therefore return briefly to our crossing experiments with the midwife toad. Hach hybridization is in reality a transplantation of the germ elements, in a nonoperative natural way. We noted that in a body with entirely different properties, those germ elements which were carried over into it during coition retained their own peculiarities, often with the greatest persistence; even to such an extent that they always reappeared unchanged in a certain percentage of the offspring. It is possible, indeed probable, that we are now in possession of the explanation of these phenomena, for we are dealing always only with well-fixed, old, constant peculiarities, which no longer exert a form or color-changing stimulus upon each other or their surroundings. Tn our midwife toad we are also dealing, not with peculiarities which, in the strict sense, are new, but with reawakened old peculiarities 85360°—sm 1912——29 438 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. which had become lost—a resuming of the abandoned lines of develop- ment of the forefathers. It was on account of this that these rever- sions or atavistic characters could be carried to a high or at least sufficiently balanced degree. If these had been newly acquired char- acters and transmissible in pure strains, their diversion in the Mende- lian sense would nevertheless have been impossible, for I have been convinced of this recently by completed control experiments with animals which had enjoyed the peculiar adaptation for a short period only. In these, neither of the two peculiarities of the parents 1s com- pletely dominant in the offsprings, but they stand midway between their producers, and the acquired character pales, fades, becomes enfeebled, and is finally lost. I do not wish to close my observations without considering another phase of the inheritance of acquired characters, namely, the trans- mission of acquired disease and the transmission of acquired resistance against toxin. Strictly considered in the light of experimental investigation, we possess only the classical experiments of Brown-Séquard, Westphal, and Obersteiner that deal with transmission of disease. These were responsible for epilepsy produced in the guinea pig by operation. Brown-Séquard and Obersteiner severed some cords of the spinal’ cord, or more frequently the hip nerve in their guinea pigs; Westphal tapped them on the head with a hammer once or several times. The most marked results of these interferences consist in epileptic cramps, as well as an occasional change of the eyeball, namely, a whitish dulling of the cornea and protrusion. These changes pro- duced by disease are found again in a part of the progeny; even the second generation possesses at times a tendency to epileptic attacks from the first without a repetition of the operation. These experi- ments have since been twice tested; first, by Sommer with completely negative results; but this can scarcely be considered conclusive on account of the limited amount of material experimented upon; and second, by Macisza and Wrzosek, in which the older observations were completely verified and their scope only slightly restricted by the fact that incomplete attacks could be produced in a few healthy young, from normal parents, a fact not observed by any of the previous investigators. As regards the inheritable transmission of protection against bac- terial or other toxins, we have the pioneer experiments of Ehrlich, now famous for his remedy for syphilis, on mice protected against rizin and abrin; also those of Tizzoni and Cattaneo on mice protected against tetanus and rabbits protected against hydrophobia; finally, those of Behring upon rabbits protected against diphtheria; but these are not quite beyond challenge, since the transmission of toxin resist- ance upon the progeny was then observed only when both parents, or ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—-KAM MERER. 439 at least the female, was protected against toxins and not when the male alone possessed this peculiarity. The doubt was therefore not excluded that the transmission may have taken place not by true inheritance of the undeveloped germ, but later through the placenta, or even by way of the milk of the mother, while nursing. The latter possibility appeared all the more reasonable, since analagous experi- ment by Lustig upon chickens protected against abrin in which both of the questioned sources of error were eliminated yielded com- pletely negative results. But final positive proof was furnished by experiments made by Gley and Charrin, who, by the use of rabbits and the toxin produced by the pus-producing Bacillus pyocyaneus, achieved that which Ehrlich and his followers had been unable to do, namely, the transmission of the resistance by immunity—in this case against a disease-producing poison produced by bacteria—through the male alone. This wonderful new result, together with all those previously attained, opens an entirely new path for the improvement of our race, the purifying and strengthening of all humanity—a more beautiful and worthy method than that advanced by fanatic race enthusiasts, which is based upon the relentless struggle for existence, through race hatred and selection of races, which doubtless are thor- oughly distasteful to many. This will never save human society from degeneration; it will not qualify man for greater efforts or higher aims. ‘These must be acquired solely and alone by our own labor toward a well-determined end. If acquired characters, impres- sions of the individual life, can, as a general thing, be inherited, the works and words of men undoubtedly belong with them. Thus viewed, each act, even each word, has an evolutionary bearing. The acquiring of new characters may prove an inherited burden if unhealthy conditions and overindulgence, or lack in all things, or bad passions ruin our body, and therefore our reproductive cells, so that even good germs become strangled in it. But the active striving for definite, favorable, new qualities will in a like manner yield the power to transmit the capabilities which we have acquired, the activities which we have busily practiced, the overcoming of trials and illness—will leave somewhere their impress upon our children or our children’s children. Even if ever so much weakened; even if only in disposition or tendency, not in completed form; even if com- pletely concealed for generations, some reflection of that which we have been and what we have done must be transmitted to our descendants. We know, unfortunately, all too little about this, be- cause well-planned breeding experiments are impossible in man, and because statistical investigation, which we offered in their place, is frequently full of error. We are therefore forced to draw our con- clusions from the better-known case of the plants and animals; and 440 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. just such cases make it seem probable that our descendants will learn quicker what we knew well; will execute easier what we accom- plished with great effort; will be able to withstand what injured us almost to the point of death. In a word, where we sought, there they will find; where we began, there they will accomplish; and where we are still fighting with uncertain results, there they will be victo- rious. EXPLANATION OF PLATE FIGURES. Fie. 1.—Slipper animalacule (Paramaecium).—1l, normal, more enlarged, and less schematic; la, offspring resulting by fission from an example which has been distorted by hunger, every time one offspring with a hornlike process; 1b, incom- plete fission the fission products remain attached to each other. (After Jennings and McClendon, from Przibram’s Experimentalzoologie, vol. 3.) Fie. 2.—Aecolosoma hemprichit.—Upper left-hand figure normal worm, 7, budding; a, 4 worm in which the end was cut off, in spite of which a new worm is bud- ding in aT; b, bud fused with the stem part, in D7, producing, in spite of this, another normal bud. (After Stolé, from Przibram’s Experimentalzoologie, vol. 3.) Fie. 3.—Lumbriculus.—Above normal worm A5 anterior, B5, posterior segments, which are cut away and produce tails, a, 6; in a and b these separated tails have acquired new heads; in a and 6 the latter have each grown another set of tails. (After Morgulis, from Przibram’s Experimentalzoologie, vol. 3.) Fie. 4.—The approach of the Salinecrustacean (Artemia) (1) to Branchipus (2). When the saline contents of medium are reduced. 1la-/, gradations of the pos- terior segment of the abdomen of the Salinecrustacean; 2g, posterior segment of the abdomen of Branchipus. (After Schmankewitsch, from Przibram’s Experi- mentalzoologie, vol. 3.) Fie. 5.—A water flea (Hyalodaphnia). To the left high, right low helmed females, with eggs in the brood pouch. In the middle are the results of three experi- ments (1-111), represented by sketches of the head outline; aa, females; bb, young. (After Ostwald, from Przibram’s Experimentalzoologie, vol. 3.) Fic. 6.—Vital staining in the moth Tineola biselliella.—A caterpillar stained with sudan red. B, colored egg, deposited by a moth developed from the stained caterpillar; 6, normal, colorless egg. (After Sitowski, from Przibram’s Experi- mentalzoologie, vol. 3.) : Fie. 7.—Changing the small willow leaf beetle (Phratora vitellinas) from a smooth leaf (A) to a strongly woolly willow leaf (a). In B most of the eggs have been deposited upon the original food plant (above); in 6 the eggs have been placed upon the new food plant. Analog in C, c, D, in which an increasing number of eggs are deposited upon the new food plant. The numerical difference in the number of the eggs deposited is indicated by the number of circles alongside of the twigs. To the right below is the beetle. (After Schréder, from Przibram’s Experimentalzoologie, vol. 3.) Fia. 8.—Development and metamorphosis of an ordinary frog. a, freshly deposited eggs; b, with swollen capsule; c, before hatching; d, freshly hatched larva; e, with external gills; /, external gills retrogressing; g, h, footless larva with internal gills; i, larva with hind legs; k, with the beginning of front legs; 7, with all four legs; m, after discarding the horny jaw and almost complete shriveling of the tail. (After Brehm.) Fia. 9.—Adaptation of the midwife toad (Alytes obstetricans). 2, normal develop- ment; a, egg; b, freshly hatched larva; c, two-legged d four-legged larva; e, newly developed toad; 0, lung of larva; ¢, lung of complete toad. 3, develop- ment from ‘‘giant eggs”; a, egg; b, newly hatched larva; C, newly hatched off- Fie. Fic. Fia. Fie. ADAPTATION AND INHERITANCE—-KAMMERER. 441 spring without DD with continued development from giant eggs. 4, develop- ment from ‘‘aquatic eggs; a, egg”; b, newly hatched young, alongside of which is its head with one pair of external gills; C, in the same way the larva of the first; D, the fourth generation (here with three pairs of gills). 5, land larva; 5C, offspring of same; 5a, land larva, young. 6, giant larva; d, sexually mature larva; 6a, lungs of same; 6C, the offspring of same. (After Kammerer, from Przibram’s Experimentalzoologie, vol. 3.) 10.—Crossings between normal and changed midwife toads. 7, normal brooding male (3), with changed, water depositing female(?). 8, normal land depositing female (?), with changed, nonbrooding male (¢). PP, parents; F,, children; F,, grandchildren. (After Kammerer, from Przibram’s Experimentalzoologie, vol. 3). 11.—Scheme of inheritance according to the Mendelian or prevailing law. P, parents; F,, children; F,, great-grandchildren. 12.—Color adaptation of the fire salamander (Salamandra maculosa) to yellow earth and the transmission of this adaptation with the appearance of a symmetric color pattern in the daughter generation. ‘‘P-line,’’ F,- line, denote the color changing process of a single parent pair of parents (P, parents —-F,). The time element in each two stages of the P- line requires two years, that of the F,- line, one year. (After Kammerer.) 13.—Color adaptation of the fire salamander (Salamandra maculosa) to black garden earth and the transmission of this adaptation with the appearance of a symmetric color pattern in the daughter generation. All details as in figure 12, which see. (After Kammerer.) hake ore a Merve iene | | By Bis 1S, aphnnyy aie Fea es ane ae tee a! - wy SLLA mn : "ea amhetaertnas i corn poratr Sesh npg Ne baie ipa cae | yaeenitt a tigtob ll secant re ir SO ere oe BUONO ( tedeiaetiteay: hoo wh , | Pe nC tata iy Mca ik e leyee Ori: eR Dee iel Baa presi ‘ge pte ; . paeeeeres ry ih ise 40 hak An Caer eae ae, pomerky ee Eph. te ag ca Taam OH acne nicl ho ey, Nes ‘bee ( rae . pki Ny Mains Dy t “) soe Ai eae a! 53 oS aie man Wa histo ee ee BRI i Rh Salma we lye enti ncuun Ae ey ot shih (ll Faas 4 Nd geet Ku. Ailey Meal Rcleae scpetelueie a ony, Wena CATs DHMH bt Hr Sanh tag ieee eo i vy ae cee, te: Phranenhy Tevldlally Gels Yates “1a1BUUWUeY¥—' 7 | 6] ‘Yoday uejuosy}IWs Smit sonian Repx rt 912.—Kammerer PEATE 7. B (lh { \ @ & @ lh / / e@ eee Fic. 11.—SCHEME OF INHERITANCE i et { Eu a 5 Ml EXPLANATION ON PAGE 440.) OR ‘of nt ‘( oe 7 Ei Bs Les \ ZF ‘CCS Fic. 10.—CROSSINGS BETWEEN NORMAL AND CHANGED MIDWIFE TOADS . (EXPLANATION ON PAGE 440.) (Opp 29Vd NO NOILVNY1dxXq) “HLYVa NOV1g OL YSONVWYVIVS BuI4 4O NOlLvLdvady yO0100—'€} “SIS yu rqjot poe oqioy -W Pug nary MoZarastyos poe one hE Opn Where wyos je Yo — °8 alV1d CObp 39Vd NO NOILVNV1dx9) ‘HLYVQG MOTIZA OL YSONVWVIVS 3uI4 JO NOILVidvay ¥O1090—'g} ‘SI4 op nay lado pine ouley -! , apugmin Wezdentas pnu ata | prey Ue Hyper ye od joj LULUB Y— Cl6L # a3y Jeiuosu) US THE PALEOGEOGRAPHICAL RELATIONS OF ANTARCTICA? By Cuarues Heptey, F.L.S., Assistant Curator of the Australian Museum, Sydney, New South Wales. 1. INTRODUCTION. Testimony in support of alteration in temperature and contour of Tertiary Antarctica is almost wholly based on a comparison of the living fauna and flora of surrounding countries. While biologists in general, led by Wallace, Sclater, and Hutton, opposed the idea of an extended and habitable Antarctica, geographers hesitated to adopt an hypothesis the arguments for which lay in a foreign field. But of late years most of those engaged in its discussion have been supporters of extension, so that the theory has advanced from the position of a disparaged heresy to that of an established view. Accustomed to rely on biological evidence in the form of paleon- tology for important and far-reaching generalizations, geology may now accept from biology this theory of former Antarctic exten- sion. Thereby is acquired a correlation of climate, of time, and of continental change, while incidentally a new light is thrown on the question of the permanence of ocean basins. It seemed nothing unusual to find a similar fauna and flora, even to the extent of a large proportion of identical species, on the sub- antarctic islands all around the world. But collectors working in South Temperate and even in South Tropical Zones were surprised to find related species and genera in opposite hemispheres. This corre- spondence is more pronounced in primitive groups and grows clearer southward. First, it was realized when the famous botanist, Sir J. D. Hooker, pointed to the distribution of the southern pines as indicating a common origin. (Hooker, London Journal of Botany, vol. 4, 1845, p. 137.) The relations of a southern fauna linking Australasia to South America were sketched firm and clear by a master hand in Prof. Huxley’s essay on the classification and distribution of the gallina- ceous birds. (Huxley, Proc. Zool. Soc. 1868, p. 294.) 1 Reprinted by permission from the Proceedings of the Linnean Society of London, session 124, 1911-12. Read June 6, 1912, . 443 444 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. According to Ortmann, first Riitimeyer definitely proposed radia- tion from Antarctica as the solution of the problem. (Riitimeyer, Ueber die Herkunft unserer Thierwelt, 1867, p. 15.) Our knowledge of this subject was much advanced by Dr. H. O. Forbes. (Forbes, Roy. Geogr. Soc. Suppl. Papers, mz, 1893.) Start- ing from the fossil avifauna of the Chatham Islands, he reviewed the community of southern faunas and interpreted it by antarctic dis- tribution. As the means of dispersal he mapped a vast continent stretching continuously from Madagascar to South America and Fiji during the ‘‘northern glacial epoch.” It was suggested by the present writer that a far smaller area of continental land, of an earlier date and of unstable form, was indicated by its surviving refugees (Hedley, Proc. Roy. Soc. N. S. Wales, vol. 29, 1896, p. 278), and that the last Antarctic phase as reflected by these might be expressed in arms reaching on one side to Tasmania, on the other to Cape Horn, while previous phases may have been represented by other rays extending to New Zealand, Madagascar, Ceylon, and perhaps South Africa. A study of terrestrial and fluviatile mollusca induced Ancey to subscribe to these suggestions. (C. F. Ancey, Journ. de Conch., vol. 49, 1901, p. 12.) Dr. Ortmann, while investigating the South American Tertiary invertebrates, accepted my amendments to Forbes’s proposition. To a clear exposition of the subject he added a map and _ biblio- graphy. (Report Princeton University Expedition to Patagonia, vol. 4, pt. 2, 1902, pp. 310-324.) The distribution of southern earthworms was discussed by Prof. W. B. Benham. (Proc. Austr. Assoc. Adv. Sci. 1902, pp. 319-343.) In his opinion the Acanthodrilids, a primitive group, originated in New Zealand and spread by way of Antarctica to South America. He emphasized the fact that the union they indicated between Antarctica and New Zealand was not synchronous with the Austra- lian connection. Examining the mammalian fauna A. Gaudry considered that unless Tertiary Patagonia was united to Antarctica its paleonto- logical history would be incomprehensible. (Compt. Rend., vol. 141, 1905, p. 806.) From a study of the fresh-water crustacea of Tasmania, Mr. Geoffrey Smith concludes that certain elements of this fauna ‘‘reached their present range by means of an Antarctic connection between the southernmost projections of Australia, South America, and New Zealand.”’ (Trans, Linn. Soc. Lond., ser. 2, Zool., vol. 9, 1909, p. 67.) His analysis revealed the presence in Tasmania of another element which he derived from the northern hemisphere and which PALEOGEOGRAPHY OF ANTARCTICA—-HEDLEY. 445 he supposed to have traveled down the Andean Chain and crossed to Australasia by the Antarctic route. Summing up a biological examination of the southern islands of New Zealand, Prof. C. Chilton concludes: ‘‘The evidence pointing to former extensions of land from the Antarctic Continent northward, and to the warm climate that was enjoyed by this continent in early Tertiary times, seems to offer a fairly satisfactory explanation of the facts before us.” (Subantarctic Islands of New Zealand, vol. 2, 1909, p. 467.) A full bibliography is included in this article. Finally, Osborn describes the hypothetical reconstruction of Ant- arctica as ‘‘one of the greatest triumphs of recent biological investi- gation.”’ (‘‘The Age of Mammals,” 1910, p. 75.) 2. ARGUMENT. The distribution records of recent and fossil species upon which the generalizations of the foregoing authors depend have never been denied. Indeed, they continue to increase with the progress of science. To other, and usually earlier, authors these views presented two insuperable difficulties. One is the extreme change in climate which formerly permitted temperate and subtropical animals and plants to exist where cold is now so intense. The other is the demand for the existence of Tertiary land where an ocean now extends so broad and deep as that between Antarctica and Tasmania or New Zealand. To evade these difficulties and yet explain existing distribution the following three alternatives have been advanced: I. That decadent groups were expelled from their original seats by more vigorous competitors; retreating from a northern center to the ends of the earth, such groups divided into fugitive parties which con- verged as southern lands approached the pole. Or discontinuous distribution in southern continents were simply considered remnants of a former universal distribution. (Wallace, ‘‘The Geographical Distribution of Animals,” vol. 1, 1876, p. 398; Pfeffer, Zool. Jahrb. Suppl. vol. 8, 1905, pp. 407-442.) But whereas, under the circumstances postulated, the northern wan- derers would be expected to diminish and to vary as they receded, the 1 While this article was’in the press there reached me an important memoir by Dr. Pilsory on ‘‘The Non-Marine Mollusca of Patagonia.’’ (Rep. Princeton Univ. Exped. Patagonia, m1, 1912, pt. v, pp. 513- 633.) My friend considers Antarctica rather as a road for migration, especially an American exit, than asa center of evolution. He takes exception to my derivation of Australian Acavide from Antarctica and suggests that the group arosein Gondwana Land. Onreconsideration I would still maintain that the south- eastwardly increasing distribution of Australian Acavide indicates their immediate Antarctic origin. But previous to an Antarctic sojourn the group may have been Gondwana bred. This memoir heightens the resemblance between east and west. Gundlachia, Diplodon,and Radiodiscus are common, Petterdiana scarcely differs from Littoridina, and Potamolithis appears to have Tasmanian relatives. 446 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN. INSTITUTION, 1912. southern forms in question became more alike and more numerous proceeding south. Thusradiation rather than convergence is indicated. II. That birds, winds, or circumpolar currents, by a process of picking up and setting down passengers from the continents or islands by the way, established a uniformity of fauna and flora. Thus, Dr. Michael- son writes (Journ. West. Aust. Nat. Hist. Soc., vol. 5, July, 1908, p. 13): ‘‘There is no need for the supposition of an ancient great Ant- arctic continent which connected Australia and South America, as some scientific men still suppose. Certain littoral Oligocheta, con- sisting of euryhaline forms, for which the salt sea is no barrier, can be transported by the west wind drift over the stations on the different islands lying between one continent and another.” The flora of the circumantarctic islands, as instanced by Kerguelen, was thought by W. Schimper to have been conveyed by sea birds and ocean drift (Schimper, Wissenschaft. Ergebn. Valdivia, vol. 2, 1905, p- 75). Although this might apply to species which recur through several archipelagoes, such would not explain the presence of endemic plants and on Kerguelen the occurrence of an endemic snail, Amphi- doxa hooker. Such transport accounts only for a wide range of individual species capable of air or water carriage. It has doubtless been a small but real factor in distribution. But it does not account for the existence of related and representative species, for the subtropical element, or for the species incapable of such conveyance. Prof. W. B. Benham raises the objection that a species might drift yet never land: “When I stood at the top of the sheer cliffs, some 500 feet to 1,000 feet in height, which form the whole of the west coast of Auckland Island and saw the tremendous breakers which even in moderately calm weather dash with incredible force against the rocks, I was more than ever convinced that the west-wind drift can not account for the transference of Oligochzta from the various land surfaces of this subantarctic region.”’ (Benham, ‘‘Subantarctic Islands of New Zea- land,’’ vol. 1, 1909, p. 254.) MIDI That a trans-Pacific continent conveyed to New Zealand, Australia, and South America a common stock otherwise recognized as the Ant- arctic element. (Hutton, Proc. Linn. Soc. N.S. Wales, vol. 21, 1896, p. 36; Baur, ‘‘ American Naturalist,” vol. 31, 1897, p. 661.) This alternative seems the weakest. Had a trans-Pacific bridge really disseminated the species under discussion then they should be best developed in the central remaining portion (for instance, in Tahiti or Samoa) and least at the extremity (as in Chile or Tasmania). PALEOGEOGRAPHY OF ANTARCTICA——-HEDLEY. 447 Actually the reverse is the case. South America is the most closely associated with Tasmania, then New Zealand is less so, and the mid- Pacific islands not at all. Those who consider the demand for land between Tasmania and Antarctica as exorbitant are not consistent in asking so much larger a grant in the Pacific. Another difficulty is why that South American contingent which flooded Tertiary Antarctica, and then Australia, failed to include such characteristic South American fauna as the humming birds, platyrhine monkeys, hystricomorph rodents, edentates, or notoungulates. Dr. von Jhering explains (Trans. N. Z. Inst, vol. 24, 1891, p. 431, and N. Jahrb. f. Mineralogie, etc., Beil.-Bd., vol. 32, 1911, p. 176, pl. v) that two former subcontinents of late Mesozoic or early Tertiary age are now fused in the present South America. Betore the rise of the Andes these were separated from each other by a broad sea and main- tained distinct fauna and flora. The southern tract, which he calls ‘“Archiplata,”’ comprised what is now Chile, Argentina, and southern Brazil. The northern area, called ‘ Archiguyana,”’ embraced northern Brazil, Venezuela, and Guiana. Tt was from Archiplata that the last phase of Antarctica had its American derivatives, and that at a time when many forms now regarded as typically South American had not yet reached Archiplata. Not until after Antarctica was released from Archiplata did the latter join Archiguyana, and then the southern fauna suffered the usual fate from the incursion of the more highly organized northern types. 3. THE AUSTRAL FAUNA AND FLORA. More space than is here available would be required to enumerate the Antarctic refugees in austral lands. A few of the more striking instances are now selected. Recent marsupials are restricted to Australasia and to the Americas, the monotremes to the former. It seems to have been assumed gen- erally that marsupials necessarily had a European origin and traveled across Siberia to North America. A shorter connection between western Europe and South America by way of Archhelenis is at any rate worth debate. Had the entry to Australia been by the Malay Archipelago, as opponents of the Antarctic hypothesis advance, then stragglers by the way should have lingered in the East Indies. In Australasia marsupials and monotremes are least developed in the north; proceeding southward, more groups successively appear, till ultimately Tasmania has, as Prof. Spencer expressed it, ‘‘a condensa- tion of most that is noteworthy in the Australian region.” (Spencer, Proc. Austr. Assoc. Adv. Sci. 1892, p. 106.) Indeed, the most con- vincing proof of the Antarctic theory is the fact that in Australasia the South American affinities regularly increase as Tasmania is approached 448 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. and there attain their maximum. Those who deny marsupial migra- tion across Antarctica are obliged to assume that the Thylacinide were independently evolved in each hemisphere. That Tasmania was the point of entry is supported by the discovery in Tasmania of the earliest fossil Australian marsupial. This, Wynyardia bassiana, is apparently one of the Phalangeride, but the unique example is too imperfect for positive identification. (Spencer, Proc. Zool. Soc. 1900, p- 776.) Local geologists class the stratum in which it occurred as Eocene, but English and American geologists are less disposed to grant these beds such antiquity. If marsupials had not been available, the case could have been made as clear from herpetological evidence. And, indeed, were the verte- brata disregarded, the hypothesis could still be as well established from the invertebrata or the plants. Among the reptiles, 50 genera of the Iguanide are known, all of which are confined to the New World, chiefly South America, except one genus in Fiji and two in Madagascar. Australian snakes are divisible into the venomous and the nonvenomous groups. All the venomous are of the family Elapide, related to South American types; they focus in Tasmania, where nonvenomous snakes are absent. The nonvenomous snakes are of Asiatic or Papuan affinity, and focus in North Queensland. The majority of Australian frogs are also akin to South American forms. A family of large snails, conspicuous for the size and beauty of the shell and distinct in structural features, called by Dr. Pilsbry the Ma- croogona, has the following distribution: In South America, chiefly tropical, Macrocyclis 1 species, Strophochilus 51 species, and Gonyo- stomus 5 species; in Madagascar, Ampelita 54 species and Helico- phanta 16 species; in the Seychelles, Stylodonta 2 species; in Ceylon, Acavus 7 species; in the Moluccas, Pyrochilus 4 species; in Tasmania, Anoglypta 1 species and Caryodes 1 species; in Eastern Australia, Pedinogyra 1 species and Panda 4 species. The Chilian Marcrocyclis and the Queensland Pedinogyra by shell characters pair together, while Helicophanta is a match for Panda. The absence of this family from New Zealand, its preponderance of species in Madagascar, of genera in Tasmania with Australia, and its development in the Tropics are remarkable characters of this old austral group. The snail family Bulimulide is characteristic of South America, beyond which two genera stray into the West Indies and North America, and two others, Bothriembryon and Placostylus, occur in Australasia. The first ranges from Tasmania to West Australia, and forms an exception to Antarctic rule by having its distribution center in the latter. Indeed, Bothreimbryon and the fluviatile crustacean Cheraps raise a suspicion that West Australia had direct relations with Antarctica prior to and independent of the Tasmanian Isthmus. PALEOGEOGRAPHY OF ANTARCTICA—HEDLEY. 449 Placostylus extends from New Zealand to Fiji and New Guinea, “giving testimony,’ as Pilsbry remarks, ‘‘to the former existence of an Antarctic land connecting the austral continents of the two hemi- spheres.” (Man. Conch., Index, vols. 10-14, 1902, p. ix.) The Buprestide, a family of large and handsome beetles, exhibit a striking affinity between Australia and South America; so much so that, opposed as Wallace was to the Antarctic connection, he here conceded that some exchange between the two areas was required. He thought that it took the form of larve in floating timber drifting round the Antarctic seas in a warm period. Among early Tertiary vegetation brought from Seymour Island in the Antarctic by Dr. Nordenskjéld’s expedition, Dusén has recognized a species of Fagus and an Araucaria like A. brasiliensis. (Schwe- dische Sudpolar. Exp., Bd. III, Lief 3, 1908.) In the light of this discovery the range of the living species of these genera acquires an importance for the student of the Antarctic hypothesis. The dis- tribution of the beech trees is a particularly interesting one, for on the principle of Antarctic extension it is simple and intelligible, but without it is complicated and inexplicable. This genus Fagus, sensu latu, has two representatives in Europe, one in North America, and several in China and Japan. But in South America there are 11, in New Zealand 7, and in Tasmania with Australia 3. The northern forms are deciduous, but with one or two exceptions the southern are evergreen. The genus being a natural one is certainly not of polyphyletic origin, and the question before us is, from what center of migration has it spread ? Did the southern species radiate from the south or converge from the north? It is a strong argument for a southern origin that the bulk of the species are southern. Again, the evergreen state is primitive, the deciduous derived, and this indicates that the northerners are offshoots from an evergreen stock. Thirdly, the southern species more closely resemble each other than any northern does any southern form. Even, as Mr. Rodway (Proc. Austr. Assoc. Adv. Sci., 1912) points out, the same parasite afflicts Tasmanian and South American trees. This agrees better with radiation from the south than with convergence from the north. Another aspect of Antarctic distribution is presented by the genus Araucaria. None of the 15 existing species reach the Northern Hemisphere, so the complication of a boreal factor is absent. It is chiefly subtropical and characterizes a zone external to that of Fagus. In South America there are three species, in New Caledonia eight, in Norfolk Island one, in New Guinea one, and in Australia two. The latter pair are unlike each other, but one, A. bidwilli, from Queens- land, stands very close to the Chilean A. imbricata. This indicates that the genus had already differentiated almost to its present 450 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. extreme before the migration route between Australia and South America had closed. The large and heavy seeds of these trees possess no floating power and are unfitted for dispersal by birds. As Dr. Guppy remarks of the Fijian Kauri pine, ‘‘they may well be cited in support of any continental hypothesis.’”’ (Guppy, ‘‘ Naturalist in the Pacific,” vol. 2, 1906, p. 301.) The preponderance of Araucaria in the Pacific is enforced by a related genus Agathis. If statistics carry a meaning, Fagus would seem to have come to Australasia from America, while Araucaria made the reverse journey. The remarkable and well-known genus Fuchsia includes 69 species. Four of these are natives of New Zealand, the rest inhabit South America, Mexico, and the West Indies. These figures are almost exactly reversed for the shrubby evergreen Veronicas, plants con- spicuous in any New Zealand landscape, totally absent from Australia or Tasmania, and represented by a few stragglers in South America and Fuegia. 4. DEDUCTIONS. If it be resolved that the community of austral life is explicable only by former radiation along land routes from the south polar regions, we reach a position to probe deeper into the intricacies of the problem. In the scheme propounded by Dr. H. O. Forbes, the austral forms inhabited one vast continent, nearly a third of the Southern Hemi- sphere, at the same (? Pleistocene) time. But an analysis of the fauna in question shows that some groups avoid Tasmania and others avoid New Zealand. Clearly the Antarctica that supplied Australia with an abundant fauna of marsupials, monotremes, snakes, frogs, and so on, was not in touch with New Zealand, where these animals are conspicuously absent. Benham has emphasized the fact that the Acanthrodrilids, Antarctic earthworms, failed to reach Tasmania. When they, the fuschias and other associates, spread backward and forward from New Zealand to South America, it is equally clear that the road to Tasmania was barred to them. Iredale remarks (Proc. Malac. Soc., vol. 9, 1910, p. 160) that the Antarctic element in the New Zealand Polyplacophora, a marine molluscan group, is distinct from that which reached Tasmania from the south. The differences are both positive and negative, and are not due merely to the more south- ern latitude of New Zealand preserving a larger proportion of cold types. When circumstances allowed Iguanide to wander from South America in two genera to Madagascar and in another to Fiji, the Australian road was apparently closed to them. It becomes increasingly apparent that the Antarctic source of austral life was not simple but compound. This complexity has PALEOGEOGRAPHY OF ANTARCTICA—-HEDLEY. 451 probably been the chief hindrance to its recognition. The problem before us is, Was the complexity that of time or space, or both ? Shall we suppose, for instance, that at the close of a glacial period an Antarctic continent bare of life received a fauna and flora from one neighbor, then developed and transmitted it to another; that a subsequent glaciation swept all life away from the polar area; that a warm interglacial period succeeded when another transfer, but between different neighbors, took place? So that the fauna of New Zealand might represent the life of one interglacial Antarctic phase and that of Australia another. Or shall we consider that Tertiary Antarctica was an archipelago, the islands of which carried such different fauna and flora that emigrants from one quarter differed from those of another. It is not yet known whether the area between King Edward VII Land and Graham Land is a lobe of the continent or an archipelago, or an independent island. (Darwin, Proc. Roy. Soc. A., vol. 84, 1910, p. 420; and Mawson, Geogr. Journ., vol. 37, 1911, map, p. 613.) In the latter case it is possible that King Edward VII Land may have joined New Zealand, while Tasmania was separately linked to South Victoria Land. Under these circumstances New Zealand and Tasmania may have simultaneously imported an Antarctic and yet a different fauna and flora. Or both conditions of interglacial succession and insularity may have combined in the past to produce present effects. Prof. H. Pilsbry has shown (Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Philad., 1900, p. 568) that the land molluscan faunas of the Marquesas, Hawaii, and Society Islands are closely related, and that though of primitive type they are harmonic such as befits continental land, not a drift selection such as oceanic islands have. He proposes them as witness to the existence of a Paleozoic or early Mesozoic land mass. The tree lobelias also testify to the antiquity and association of these distant Pacific archipelagoes. (Guppy, ‘A Naturalist in the Pacific,” vol. 2, 1906, p. 250.) Their relations are with the alpine floras of South America and equatorial Africa. A third of the mountain flora of Hawaii is derived from high southern latitudes. It is now suggested that these primitive continental plants and animals reflect a merid- ional Pacific land ray, the first visible vestige of Antarctic extension, as Tasmania was the last. To carry a cold flora across the Equator the land must have been lofty and continuous. In such a range some might see the rib of a former tetrahedral world. As the Eocene was both a warm period and a time when land was largely developed in the Patagonian area, it is likely that the Archi- platan fauna then or earlier entered Antarctica. If the Tasmanian fossil Wynyardia is rightly dated Eocene, then during that age some at least of the American migrants reached Australia. 452 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Whereas’ New Zealand in its relation with South America, via Antarctica, appears both as a giver and a receiver, Australia, on the contrary, seems to have made no return to South America, but to have received all and given nothing.t No Eucalypts, for instance, crossed from Tasmania to Patagonia. One explanation may be that Australia was then too poor to afford emigrants. Another and more probable explanation is that Antarctica, having received a fauna and flora from Archiplata, was severed from it before joining Australia. Thus a stream of migration would be forced forward and checked backwards. The austral fauna and flora appears extending in successive zones from the far south to the Tropics. In New Zealand the warmth- loving plants and animals, such as the Kauri pine (a relation of Araucaria) and Placostylus snail, have been thrust to a northern refuge, while diminished temperature has probably exterminated others. The Araucaria and iguanas, the fresh-water fish Osteoglossum, are examples of tropical austral forms of which a long list could be compiled. It is unlikely that the Antarctica that bore this tropical and subtropical assembly reached much more broadly to the Tropics than does the present continent. Had it done so, more traces would have been left of such extension in the South Sea Islands on the one side or in South Africa on the other. But if the subtropical flora and fauna had in the Tertiary extended unbroken across the pole from Fuegia to Tasmania, what then became of the ancestors of the present subantarctic and south alpine life? Why were not these frigid forms driven from off the face of the earth when the heart of the Antarctic itself enjoyed a genial climate? The discovery by Sir E. Shackleton of a plateau 10,000 feet high near the South Pole suggests a solution of the difficulty. If such a plateau existed when the climate was at its warmest, then the tropical migrants could have found a congenial climate on the coast, while the ancestors of the Kosciusko and Kerguelen plants and animals took refuge on the plateau heights. The inference is that such a plateau did then exist. Tf the land connection between the Antarctic and Tasmania had broken down during the warmest period of the interglacial phase, it would have isolated the flora and fauna at a time when the cold elements were gathered together on the central plateau heights, while the temperate and subtropical elements possessed the Antarctic periphery. In that case the cold forms would have had no oppor- 1 Ortmann (Proc. Am. Philos. Soc., xi1, 1902, p. 340) considers that the fresh-water crustacea Parastacide spread from Australia into Antarctica and thence into Chili. But the distribution of this group in Aus- tralia as detailed by G. Smith (Proc. Zool. Soc., 1912, p. 149) appears to me to be that of immigrants from an east and west base. respectively. PALEOGEOGRAPHY OF ANTARCTICA—HEDLEY. 453 tunity to escape to the alpine stations of New Zealand or Australia, or to occupy the subantarctic islands. The conclusion is therefore drawn that the land link was main- tained during the period of refrigeration, and that from the Antarctic focus first the subtropical, then the temperate, lastly the alpine forms were expelled, each to gain a fresh footing in lower latitudes. Possibly associated with the formation of great ice masses, a paroxysm of diastrophic energy ensued. This; which perhaps has not yet subsided, effected the destruction of the antarctic bridge, and to it may be due the recent disarticulation of the Dominion of New Zealand and the severance of Tasmania from its parent continent. In the long perspective of past time Antarctica appears to fade and form like a summer cloud, now extending a limb, now shedding it, now resolving into a continent, now dissolving into an archi- pelago. At present it lies dead and cold under its white winding- sheet of snow. By the light of the magician’s lamp we watch the summer of the cycles dawn. The glow of life returns, the ice mask melts, green spreads a mantle. At last a vision comes of rippling brooks, of singing birds, of blossoming flowers, and of forest glades in the heart of Antarctica. 85360°—sm 1912 30 * abd ee seta yithelonetty wane, Asanti voit yoiv lone RA | aca a qinok.2)sreiaty ats Todd Ko dbp alt Ce 3 ae Pithy Atl, bey: chy Aww TL) cr IO AORN of M Pee igen vs a safvenssboe et teat ay AL. i; r , \ ngeninert ines earners bah i parti obirnatls tied wks care od yem df a oan Ledbniuon) oinanteell sta gopenorot: pee Pin obaashaen so Weel) Hyatt mln fing Saas hye ve aGNe (eae are L PAL, Ne i datdhnie wtivbe ete *nsbow vbloaubaw dgobienth tb tranente ta): en ; ont enthtot olf lo wolg of? -evrab-eoloye ene to nae spies snokeions si tials 4 AOE SB ERENT renee elon Pag. eis Seren hi) QE wipe! salnikonastes ig ier ane eR Te a ae CL eae Pee 1 Rae Oe MME net Livi Sea taaite oe cnt Peo pratt Uh VN ay) ae! LP aerine dit te Bi, . PN eanl i thy schemas ER Te We alt aloutly Be Ny waist US Teil eins isan re Te hea a Ree te Wi) 1 PR Araneae The avon ae Aaa “Hoyas ray ice 9 are HAY a ER OP Se Sram Toy ea hanes | Reavy the sey Pn MOM ic ae S (iv Beh UL a i.) wi yeti once who: Lee .. WANS ES RRR, “hv ihe erat wat Anite hey Me eed pb) GAA A cinaat’ | err ioatcrll WF td Qn ane aren POwte pa wuld Wee WA tiie” Leen Re PR Ce ad BAU ais ry ne yt (PS, a sflers Bat Hoi kins, 7 " Me PL Tail Ca PCA a ee shins a a pire eal Se CRA Prin: eh ee an a ih OT aa A pu (orinas Wh ty See Mae EE RRR eho ok A ti this, ooh shite” WIA Yih a rere ty rie SLT ara yvesalgalt Ne — per, were Tg PAN end 80 OU Git) geo eRe wi dit dd) pak BAe ure! er er ee eee ny vn didi (is " ie are ate ae ek Rs oe eee md ma eke ; Ne as Pyle aa aan rien * AVA th Pak ee! a bi. ; na. A ad ja Poel, OY, Che AR Aid. Seay bulatie ha a - : i aie bh! os ta eee ae Poe ue " THE ANTS AND THEIR GUESTS.! By P. E. Wasmany, 8. J., Ignatius College, Valkenburg, Holland. [With 10 plates.] One hundred years of biological investigation of ants have passed since, in 1810, the Genevan Peter Huber published his ‘ Recherches sur les mecurs des Fourmis indigénes.’’ Therefore, since we cele- brate this year a centenary of ant biology, let us first briefly review the development of myrmecology. Its character is a truly interna- tional one, in that investigators of the most distinct countries and nations have participated in it. The classification of ants, already founded by Latreille, received a new impetus through Gustave Mayr about the middle of the previous century. Toward its completion August Forel, Carlo Emery, Ernest André,W.M. Wheeler, Ruzsky, Santschi, and others have distinguished themselves, so that we now know more than 5,000 species and sub- species, living and fossil, in this family. The anatomy of ants has been ereatly advanced through the older works of Meinert, Forel, etc., and particularly through the numerous publications of Charles Janet. Recently one has turned also to the microscopic study of the devel- opment of the polar bodies within the eggs of ants. However, that which interests us most here is the development of bionomics, the knowledge of the behavior of ants. The work of the father of biological ant study, Peter Huber, has been successfully continued by August Forel and later by Rudolf Brun in Switzerland, by Carlo Emery in Italy, by Sir John Lubbock (Lord Avebury) and recently by Horace Donisthorpe in England, by Gottfried Adlerz in Sweden, by Ernest André, H. Piéron, and most especially by Charles Janet in France, in North America by McCook, later on by Miss A. Fielde, Miss Buckingham, and through numerous important works by William Morton Wheeler, in Tunisia by F. Santschi, in Algeria by V. Cornetz, in Russia by Karawaiew, in Japan by M. Yano, in Brazil by H. v. Ihering, E. Goeldi, and G. Huber, in Germany by Viehmeyer, Escherich, and Reichensperger, in Belgium 1 Translated by permission from ler Congrés International d’Entomologie, Bruxelles (August, 1910) Mémoires, vol. 2, pp. 209-232. With emendations and additions by the author. Ad55 456 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. by de Lannoy and Bondroit, etc. The names of those investigators who have especially distinguished themselves in separate branches of ant bionomics—the knowledge of the relation of ants to their guests, the study of the mode of foundation of the ant colonies, the develop- ment of social parasitism and of slavery, the investigations of the fungus gardens of the leaf-cutting ants, the construction of the nests of the highly interesting weaver ants, who use their larvee as weaver’s shuttles, etec.—are much too numerous to make their separate men- tion possible in this brief space. Through its rapid progress in all directions the modern study of ants has become on the one hand such a richly developed and richly ramified special science that it is no longer possible for the individual investigator to master the entire field. Division of labor, therefore, more and more took place, particularly also in the investigation of the myrmecophilous Arthropoda, which demands the collaboration of specialists in the most distinct classes and orders of arthropods. On the other hand the bionomic science of ants, particularly, has stepped forth from the confines of a special science. Comparative psychology has in an increased measure turned its attention toward the psychological valuation of ant activities. The theory of descent has found among the ant guests a multitude of interesting proofs for the formation of new species, genera, and families of insects through adaptation to a myrmecophilous life. It has also found in the hypothetical phylogeny of social parasitism and of slavery among the ants one of the most instructive examples for the development of instinct. Social science has even made the attempt to find in the ant communities the prototypes for human social customs. But by all means it must be considered here that the ants, in spite of the great analogy which shows itself between many activities of their social instincts and human intellectual acts, are not miniature human beings. Scientific ant study has long ago withdrawn from the roman- ticism of humanization and sees in the wonderful accomplishments of the little ant brain instinctive activities, which, however, within cer- tain limits, are plastically modifiable through sensory experiences of the individual. Science can therefore neither accept the ants as mere reflex machines nor as intellectual miniature humans. The truth with regard to the psychology of ants lies rather midway between these two extremes. For lack of time I must unfortunately deny myself a more detailed development of all these highly interesting relations of ant biology, and must limit myself to placing before you, with the help of stereop- ticon pictures,! some especially fascinating main points in the life of the ants and of their guests. 1 Of the 40 photographic lantern slides of the lecture only a part is here reproduced. . ANTS AND THEIR GUESTS—WASMANN. 457 1.—ORGANIZATION OF THE ANT SOCIETIES. The simple ant colony represents a family in the narrower or wider sense. It comprises one or more generations of the descendants of one or more females of the same species of ant. The tribal mother is the fertilized queen, who has founded the colony. The descend- ants are in part wingless forms of the female sex, the so-called workers, in part young winged males and females, and in part also others, still young, though already fertilized and deiilated, queens. The worker cast may again divide itself into different forms, namely, into true workers and into soldiers, which latter are distinguished from the workers by the prodigious structure of their heads or mandibles. Soldiers occur among our Palearctic ants only in a few genera (Colobopsis, Cataglyphis, Pheidole). The workers themselves can again divide into large and small individuals, of which the former are sometimes, as for example in Camponotus, veritable giants in com- parison with the latter. This dimorphism is much further developed still in exotic genera, like Pheidologethon. In some species of ants there are found at the side of the winged females, which shed their wings only after pairing, wingless true females as well, the so-called -ergatoid queens. A typical example of these, which was already known to Peter Huber, is offered by the amazon ant (Polyergus rufescens) (compare fig. 8a).'_ In the tropical legionary and driver ants (Eciton and Dorylus) even wingless females alone occur, and moreover of relatively enormous size. In some species of ants there is even a manyfold pleomorphism of the females which finds expres- sion in different transitions between females and workers. Much rarer are the wingless, and then mostly workerlike (ergatoid) males; they are known in but few species of ants, and occur either along with the normal winged males or as the only male form. An example of the last kind is shown in the shining guest ant, Formicozenus niti- dulus (fig. 1), where the males, on account of their great similarity to the workers, remained unnoticed 38 years, until Adlerz discovered them in 1884. With many species of ants one can find several queens together in the same colony. With our hill ant, Formica rufa, their number in a single nest may even reach toward 100. Furthermore, an ant colony may possess several nests, which are simultaneously or alternately inhabited. So-called seasonal nests, which are changed according to the time of year, have been observed, for example, in Formica san- guinea and Prenolepis longicornis. By the plurality of queens in a single colony the ant states differ strikingly from the states of the honey bees. The latter bear by comparison more a monarchical, the former a republican character, since the queen with the ants forms 1The figures 1 to 33 are arranged on plates 1 to 10, 458 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. the center of the instinctive activities to a much less degree than with the bees. The greater individual autonomy of the ant workers, in comparison with those of the bees, rests perhaps in large measure on their greater longevity, which in the Formica species is generally 3 years. The duration of life of the queens may even exceed 12 years. Polymorphism forms, it is true, the organic basis of the ant societies, establishing division of labor between the members of the same colony, But the evolution of the organic-psychic potentialities slumbering within the egg results through the nursing instincts on the part of the workers. What is intended to be a male or a female appears, similarly as with the bees, to be already determined in ad- vance within the egg.t. But upon the differentiation of the various forms of the female sex nursing has a determining influence. From the fertilized eggs of one and the same Formica queen there may be reared either winged females or wingless workers or intermediate forms. Particularly those mixed forms designated as pseudogynes, which we shall find to be an effect of the Lomechusa-breeding, offer proof of this explanation. 2. SOCIAL PARASITISM AND SLAVERY AMONG THE ANTS. If the population of an ants’ nest belongs to a single species of ant it is called a simple (unmixed) colony. If, however, it is com- posed of different species of ants, we speak, according to Forel’s example, either of compound nests or of mixed colonies; in the former the ants only live side by side; in the latter they combine into a single household with common care of the young. These are the two subdivisions into which the social symbiosis between ants of different species divides. We shall here only give our attention to the mixed colonies, and moreover with particular regard to the development of social parasitism and of slavery. This is one of the most interesting chapters in the phylogenetic development of instincts in the animal kingdom. Peter Huber had already discovered that in the colonies of the sanguine ants (Formica sanguinea) and of the Amazon ants (Polyergus rufescens) there live in addition to the master species the workers of a slave species, which are robbed as pupe by the former from the nests of the slave species and are then reared as auxiliary ants. These are, therefore, slavemaking (dulotic) colonies. But there are still other mixed colonies in which the auxiliary ants do not get into association with the master species through capture; these range among the social parasites. Since Charles Darwin (1859) diverse hypotheses on the origin of slavery have been proposed. Recently, by employing the phenomena of social parasitism for comparison, 1 That not only males but also workers originate from parthogenetic eggs (Reichenbach, Comstock, etc., in Lasius, Tanner in Atta), is in any case a rare exception. ANTS AND THEIR GUESTS—WASMANN. 459 some light at least has been shed upon this interesting problem. All investigators agree that the phylogenetic history of social para- sitism and of slavery in ants does not represent a simple line of devel- opment, but a number of different, parallel lines independent of each other. But upon the closer relations between social parasitism and slavery the views deviate from each other. You will therefore excuse it if here [ follow only briefly my own train of thought, as I have explained it more fully in the Biologisches Centralblatt, 1909.1 Let us begin with the dependent foundation of colonies and its relation to social parasitism and to slavery in Formica. The orig- inal method here also—as with ants in general—must have been the independent foundation of colonies, as, for example, we find it to-day in the fusca group. Here the females (fig. 5a), after the marriage flight, are able to found their new colonies independently; that is, without the help of the workers. How have social parasitism and slavery arisen from this root? The first step probably consisted in the transition to an acervicolous life in the workers, through which the colonies became richer in individuals and could control a larger area surrounding their hills, as we see it in the rufa group. Thereby, however, the opportunity was offered to the females to found their new settlements with the help of workers of their own species. As a second step in the parasitic and dulotic direction then followed, through this same means, in the females of the rufa group, that they abandoned the independent foundation of colonies and became de- pendent upon the assistance of workers, therefore passing over to the dependent foundation of colonies. It is in any case a remarkable phenomenon that all parasitic forms of Formica, of the Old World as well as of the New, are acervicolous and belong to the rufa group or stand in nearest relationship to it. The latter is also true for the dulotic sanguinea group, which is connected with the rufa group by morphological transitions. In the rufa group we have, furthermore, biological transitions from the facultative mode of social parasitism to the obligatory. Formica rufa (fig. 2) and F. pratensis found their colonies mostly with the assistance of workers of their own species, only facultatively with strange auxiliary ants (7. fusca, fig. 46). With Formica truncicola (fig. 3), F. exsecta (fig. 4a and 5b), and F. pressilabris in Europe, as well as with Formica consocians and a series of other North American forms discovered by Wheeler, the latter mode of colony foundation is already obligatory. With several North American parasitic Formicas described by Wheeler, as well as in our Yormica exsecta (fig. 5b) and I. pressilabris, the small size of the females is striking and already represents a further step in the advance to parasitic adaptation, while for example 1 Ueber den Ursprung des sozialen Parasitismus, der Sklaverei und der Myrmecophilie bei den Ameisen. 460 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. in Formica rufa, F. pratensis, and F. exsectoides the females are very large and do not yet show any trace of parasitic modifications. All the Formica species just mentioned, whose females either faculta- tively or obligatorily found their colonies with the aid of the workers of an alien species of auxiliary ant, form only temporarily mixed colonies. After the death of the original auxiliary ants—about three years after their foundation—these colonies again become simple, unmixed ant colonies and as such may still continue to increase for decades. Permanently mixed colonies we find, on the contrary, with the dulotic Formica species, which, after the dying off of the original auxiliary ants, procure new ones for themselves by the capture of pups. How do these forms link with the preceding and especially with a rufa-like initial stage of social parasitism ? When with a large strong acervicolous species of Formica, which had already passed over from the independent to the dependent foundation of colonies, a change occurs in the mode of nutrition of the workers, conditioned by climatic changes, so that it lives more and more exclusively by preying upon insects and furthermore par- ticularly upon the pup of strange ants, then the basis is offered for the origin of slavery; for provision is already made, through the dependent foundation of these colonies, that among the captured strange pup precisely those of the auxiliary species shall be reared. Even Formica truncicola and F. exsecta, which in nature are not slave makers, in those of their colonies which have again become simple retain the inclination to rear the worker pup of the species of their former auxiliary ant, if they are given them in artificial nests, while they devour the pupe of other alien species or at least kill the work- ers emerging from them. The origin of slavery in a Formica form like F. sanguinea (fig. 6) depends, then, upon two agents: (1) Upon the dependent foundations of colonies by their females with the assis- tance of a strange species of ant; (2) upon the inclinations of their workers to capture strange pupe as prey. According to this view the hypothetical origin of slave making within the genus Formica is thus to be followed back to a common root with the origin of social parasitism within the same genus, namely, to an incipient stage of dependent foundation of colonies which is to some degree comparable to the present state of F. rufa. In any case, the inclina- tion to prey upon pupz does not in itself suffice to explain the origin of dulosis in Formica or in any other genus of ants; for there are many species of ants, especially in the subfamily Dorylme, which pillage the pupx of strange ants and notwithstanding do not rear slaves from them, because precisely the first of the two above-named agents, the dependent foundation of their colonies by means of an 1 How the change of a forest climate to a prairie climate can offer this occasion, I have shown especially for Formica sanguinea. ANTS AND THEIR GUESTS—WASMANN. 461 auxiliary species, is absent. Hence, the main question in the expla- nation of slavery is not: Why does this species of ant in question cap- ture strange pupe as prey? but: Why does it rear auxiliaries from them? This second question remains also unsolved if one (with Emery and Viehmeyer) attempts to derive dulosis directly out of a ‘‘primitive predatory female state,” for which, moreover, any sup- porting facts are wanting; for, as Emery has himself first shown (1909), the present-day parasitic and dulotic ants are to be phylogenetically derived from their present-day auxiliary ants; there, however, we find nowhere such primitive predaceous females, but indeed manifold conditions of dependence in the foundation of colonies by one species upon those of another species. Let it be, moreover, expressly remarked that the hypothesis of the origin of dulosis in Formica can not be simply extended to the other dulotic genera of ants; for example, among the myrmicmes. Other reciprocal relations, also, than those of facultative social parasitism, may there have led to the origin of slave making (Harpagoxenus-Leptothorax). In any case, the origin of slavery can not be explained through the accidental survival of captured ant pupz within a strange nest (Ch. Darwin). Probably starting from a sanguinea-like state, and linked phylo- genetically with the development of dulosis within the genus For- mica, the genus Polyergus represents the culmination of the slave- making instinct within the subfamily of Camponotini. If we com- pare the mandibular structure of the European amazon ant (Polyer- gus rufescens) with that of our Formica sanguinea (fig. 7), a remark- able difference is shown. Formica sanguinea (fig. 7a) has normal triangular mandibles with a toothed inner margin (‘‘ Kaurand’’); Polyergus, on the contrary (fig. 7b) has narrow, sharply pointed sickle-mandibles. In these morphological distinctions the difference in the dulotic instinct of the two is also expressed: Formica sanguinea is at a more primitive stage of the development of that instinct; and it is even developed to a different extent in the different North American races of this species, as Wheeler has particularly shown. F. sanguinea keeps comparatively few slaves, can even dispense with them entirely, and is not dependent upon them. The amazon, ant, on the contrary, in its Kuropean and in its North American races, stands at the apex of dulosis, exists only by the capture of slaves and in that connection develops the most brilliant warrior talent that we know in the entire animal kingdom. Its mandibles are modified to be solely weapons for killing and are unsuited for domestic occupa- tions; furthermore it has even lost the instinct of feeding by itself and must be fed out of the mouths of its slaves. The excessive develop- ment of dulosis is here already connected with distinct character- istics of parasitic degeneration. Its mandibular structure gives ex- pression to both sides, the light and the shadow of its organic and 462 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. psychic development. The frequent appearance of a wingless female form, so-called ergatoid queens (fig. 8a), points, furthermore, toward the beginning of inbreeding, although the normal female form is still always more numerous than the ergatoid. With the genus Polyergus the development of dulosis within the subfamily of Camponotine is concluded. Let us therefore now turn to the Myrmicine. An entirely isolated position is occupied by the European and North American genus Harpagoxenus (Tomognathus). Very likely it is to be phylogenetically derived from the genus of its auxiliary ant Leptothorax; the males are hardly distinguished from those of the latter. The European Harpagoxzenus sublevis (fig. 9a), which formerly was considered to be a strictly boreal form, has also been found in Saxony by Viehmeyer; he also there discovered winged, normal females, besides the already known ergatoid female form (fig. 9a), which appears to be the only one in Scandinavia. Probably Harpagoxenus originally arose through a mutation of female forms in a parent species belonging to Leptothorax. This does not exclude the possibility that it later may have lived in compound nests together with its present-day auxiliary ant (Wasmann and Vieh- meyer), before it arrived at dulosis. Another line of development of the slavery instinct among the myrmicines is formed by the genus Strongylognathus, which probably must be derived from the genus of its auxiliary ant Tetramorium. The southern species of this Mediterranean genus are still powerful and populous slave raiders, which are able to procure the pupe of the species of their auxiliaries (Tetramorium caspitum) by force. The northern species, Strongylognathus testaceus (fig. 10), which océurs in middle Europe as far as Holland, has, on the contrary, passed over to permanent social parasitism in that its colonies harbor, besides the workers, also a female of Tetramorium, which is furnished them by the new auxiliaries. The workers of Strongylognathus testaceus no longer undertake slave raids; they are likewise too small and too few in numbers for this purpose. Probably it was the nor‘hern cli- matic conditions which in this case externally caused the change from dulosis to permanent social parasitism; for when a southern slave-capturing ant penetrates northward, its slave raids, the execu- tion of which is restricted to a certain optimum temperature, become constantly rarer and finally cease altogether. In Strongylognathus testaceus, in. connection herewith, the size and the number of worker individuals, have also sunk considerably, all indications of a parasitic degeneration of the species. The sabre-shaped jaws of this small ant are, as it were, no longer more than phylogenetic mementoes of its brilliant dulotic past. The previous history of the genus Strongy- lognathus up to that stage where the southern slave-making species still stand to-day, is just as problematical as the future further devel- ANTS AND THEIR GUESTS—WASMANN. 463 opment of social parasitism in the northern species; we can only supplement both conjecturally, the former through comparison with Polyergus among the camponotines, the latter through comparison with the workerless parasitic ants, to which we will now pass on. When with a formerly dulotic species like Strongylognathus testaceus, parasitic degeneration proceeds further, its own worker form will finally become completely extinct and will be replaced by that of the auxiliary ant, so that the one-time master species continues to exist only as males and females. We know a considerable number of such workerless parasitic ants from the palearctic and nearctic regions, recently also one from the East Indies ( Wheeleriella Wroughtoni For.). One of the palearctic species, Wheeleriella Santschii (fig. 11), has been discovered in Tunisia by Santschi within the colonies of Monomorium salomonis and possesses, as also the North American genera Epoecus, Sympheidole, and Epipheidole, winged, still fairly normal, sexual forms. Upon the lowest level of degeneration, however, stands our little, black parasitic ant Anergates atratulus, living with Tetramorium, and whose males (fig. 12) are pupa-like, and the fertilized females of which, to impede the extinction of the species by their fertility, have developed an enormous physogastry. But for none of these workerless parasitic ants can we prove with certainty that their para- sitism has sprung from a former dulosis. There are still three other ways which theoretically lead to the same goal, namely: The further development of a former temporary parasitism, the parasitic degen- eration of a former guest relation, and finally the relatively sudden (mutation-like) appearance of a new dimorphism in the female (and later also in the male) of the former parent form and present auxiliary species. In those cases where, for example as in Sym- pheidole, Epipheidole, and Epixenus, the parasitic genus is very similar to the sexual forms of the host genus, the last explanation should even be the most probable. This is also verified through the discovery in Portugal of a new parasitic Pheidole species, Ph. symbiotica, whose males and ergatoid females live in the nests of Pheidole pallidula. In the latter cases we have to assume a relatively rapid origin of the workerless parasitic species, as this has probably never (since its separation from the parent species) possessed a worker form of its own, and therefore also needed no time to “lose” it. In other cases, however, where the parasitic ant departs very widely from its present auxiliary species and pre- sumably former parent species, there was probably a longer course of development necessary, connected with a real dying out of its own worker form. This applies, for example, to Anergates atratulus, for which genus we can only conjecturally assume Tetramorium as parent form, and for which it is not at all so unlikely that it sprang from a former dulotic form by an intermediate stage similar to that of 464 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. the present-day Strongylognathus testaceus—the more so as Strongy- lognathus lives with Tetramorium and is to be derived from this same genus. But in the meantime more than conjectures are not at our command for the phyletic history of Anergates. The investigations hitherto made concerning the hypothetical phyletic past of social parasitism and of slavery have in any case led to the recognition that this history forms only an ideal unit, but in reality is composed of a multitude of really distinct lines of de- velopment, which, in different genera and species in the different subfamilies of ants, have begun at different times and up to the present have progressed to different points. The more we succeed, by means of new observations and experiments, in establishing these separate lines of origin, the more we will also proceed in our general knowledge of phylogenetic connection between parasitism and slavery among the ants. Just as in the morphologico-paleontological domain, so also here a true enrichment of our knowledge is not to be ex- pected from general theoretical reflections, but from critical detailed investigations. 3.—TRUE MYRMECOPHILY (SYMPHILY). While the living together of ants of different species comes under the concept of social symbiosis, their association with nonsocial animals, particularly with other arthropods, is designated as indi- vidual symbiosis. Therefore we are to deal here with the so-called ant guests or myrmecophiles from other families or orders of insects and of the remaining arthropods. The number of normal ant guests in 1894 already amounted to about 1,200; to-day we may estimate them at more than 2,000. Their relations to the ants are very various and may be divided into five main classes, which, however, are connected by many transitions. We distinguish symphiles or true guests, syneeketes or indifferently tolerated tenants, synechthrans or actively pursued tenants; furthermore parasites (ento- and ectoparasites), and finally trophobionts or food-producing animals of the ants. I shall here only briefly enter into the first of these classes, because we shall afterwards become acquainted with many an interesting staphylinid in connection with the legionary ants, and particularly for the reason that Mr. Donisthorpe is to deliver a lecture on the indigenous ant guests. The true ant guests (symphiles) are hospitably cared for by the ants on account of certain exudations, which are volatile products of the fatty tissues (in the Lomechusini) or of adipoid glandular tissues (Clavigerine, Paussidx, etc.), while with the physogastric termite guests the blood tissue is the principal exudating tissue. The external exudatory organs are very diversely developed; yellow hair tufts, dermal pores, dermal cavities, etc., at which the hosts lick ANTS AND THEIR GUESTS—WASMANN. 465 their guests. The exudations of the true guests, as, for example, the saccharin containing secretions of the aphids, do not appear to be a food for the ants, but only an agreeable stimulant. Among the myrmecophilous Coleoptera there are three principal groups which are prominent on account of their true guest relation to the ants: The Lomechusini among the Staphylinide, the Clavi- gerine among the Pselaphide, and finally among the Pausside by far the majority of the genera from Pleuropterus to Paussus. The remaining symphiles among the Coleoptera I do not mention here. a. The true guest relation is most highly developed with the Lome- chusini, in so far as these beetles are not only licked by their hosts (first step), but also are fed regularly from their mouths (second step), and finally also the larvee of these beetles are reared by the ants like their own brood (third step). The largest representative of the Lome- chusini is the European Lomechusa strumosa (fig. 13), which lives with Formica sanguinea as its single host and also has its larve (fig. 14) reared there. These latter, although they possess six legs, imitate in their attitude the immovable larvee of the ants and are fed by their hosts like the ant larve, indeed even far more eagerly than these. Beyond this, however, they feed themselves, particu- larly in earliest youth, from the eggs and young larve of the ants and devour them in large numbers; on this account they are in fact the worst enemies of their hosts. The species of the genus Atemeles are not, like Lomechusa, restricted to a single host, but regularly have two hosts. During autumn and winter the beetles live with the little red ant, Myrmica, and then in the spring, at the time of propagation, pass over to Formica, where they have their larvee reared; and furthermore every Atemeles species or race has a definite Formica species or race as larval host. The double host relation of Atemeles postulates a much higher degree of initiative of these beetles toward the ants than we find with Lomechusa. The Atemeles, by ‘‘active mimicry,’’ imitate the behavior of the ants to a high degree, particularly in demanding to be fed (fig. 15). The damage which their Jarvee inflict on the Formica brood is similar to that of Lomechusa. In North America the Lomechusini are repre- sented by the genus Xenodusa (fig. 16), the species of which have a double host relation, like Atemeles, but with Camponotus as second host in place of Myrmica. Their larve are reared with Formica at the expense of the brood of the ant, as in the above genera. How seriously the Formica species are harmed by the larve of the Lomechusini is also shown by the fact that through their con- tinued rearing the normal brood-nursing instinct of the ants is pathologically altered—namely, in place of true females they rear malformed individuals, intermediate between workers and females, the so-called pseudogynes, which are perfectly useless for the ant 466 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. community. They are worker-like forms with inflated humped female mesonotum. The rearing of pseudogynes occurs most frequently with our Formica sanguinea (fig. 17, a worker, b pseudogyne), which rear the larve of the single-hosted Lomechusa strumosa. Here, too, I was able to prove by the statistical method the connection between the rearing of the adopted larve and the formation of pseudogynes. The rearing of the larve of Atemeles and Xenodusa leads to the origin of pseudogynes less frequently because these beetles, in consequence of their double host relation, do not always get back into the same individual Formica colonies in which they have themselves been reared. Through the increase of pseudogynes within a nest the destruction of the host colony is finally brought about. Therefore the avowedly so ‘‘intelligent” Formica in fact actually rear, in the larve of the Lomechusini, their worst enemies. When, however, we follow the phylogenetic development of sym- phily, in which amical selection, that is, the instinctive selection prac- ticed by the ants toward their guests, plays a large réle, we must even say: In the Lomechusini the ants have brought up for themselves their worst enemies! To enter more closely into the psychological and phylogenetic phases of this interesting problem here the short time unfortunately prohibits. b. The relations of the club-horned beetles (Clavigerine) to the ants are much more harmless. The beetles are eagerly licked by their hosts and fed from their mouths, but do no harm to the ant brood, although they sometimes gnaw at diseased or wounded larve. We already know, principally through Raffray’s works, 40 genera of Clavigerine with far above 100 species. The habits of our little yellow Claviger testaceus have become very well known since 1818, and yet the larve of all the Clavigerine are still undiscovered. A picture of the adaptational characters of these beetles is offered by the gigantic club-horned beetle, 4 mm. in length, from Madagascar, Miroclaviger cervicornis (fig. 18), which, besides a large abdominal cavity, shows richly-developed yellow tufts of hairs on different parts of the body. c. The beetle family Pausside, which is so rich in diversity of form, is very fruitful for the study of myrmecophilous adaptation, but here can be treated only very briefly. Already in the Oligocene of the Baltic amber we find six genera, of which three (Pleuropterus Paussoides and Paussus) probably at that time already belonged with the true ant-guests, while two others (Arthropterus and Cerapterus) in their representatives of our time still show the primitive protective type. Among the present-day genera we already find symphilous char- acters in Pleuropterus (fig. 19), in spite of the still 10-jointed antenne, in that the cavities of the pronotum and of the bases of the elytra serve as exudatory organs. With the further development of symphily in ANTS AND THEIR GUESTS—WASMANN. 467 the Pausside there is remarkable a progressive reduction in the num- ber of antennal joints. At the highest step, in Paussus, the antennz are only 2-jointed and the antennal club assumes the most diverse forms,' among which the conch shape stands in the most intimate asso- ciation with symphily. A if 1 - c. the tree), Congo (1:44). Fig. 33.—Web nest of Polyrhachis jaboriosa Sm., Congo (1:2). THE PENGUINS OF THE ANTARCTIC REGIONS. By L. Gan, Doctor of Science, Naturalist of the Charcot Expedition. [With 9 plates. | Owing to the numerous scientific observations made since the close of the last century by various expeditions in the south polar regions certain vertebrate animals inhabiting those frozen lands are to-day well known. Of the 36 species of birds met below 60° south latitude, there are 5 belonging to a single family, that of the Spheniscide, which par- ticularly attract the attention of voyagers. We allude to the pen- guins.? Penguins are the true inhabitants of these polar regions; from whatever direction one approaches the south, he is always sure to meet them. It is they that by their numerous rookeries, by their continual movement, and by their cries animate this land to which they bring life; it is they that relieve navigation in the polar regions from the monotony that it would finally have, if they were not there to strike between whiles a gay, lively note in the polar landscape. These penguins differ widely from other birds. Their wings, without quills, provided only with little feathers that one might compare to scales, form mere paddles unfit for flight; plantigrades, they walk heavily, slowly, and when they wish to quicken their pace they fall flat on the ground, making their way through the snow by the aid of their feet and of their little wings, which also serve to balance them. Spending almost all their life in the sea, where they seek the crustaceans and small fish upon which they feed, they are wonderful swimmers, of an extraordinary suppleness and activity. 1 Translated by permission (with additions by the author) from La Nature, Paris, No. 2041, July 6, 1912, 2 This name was first given to them by the Spanish navigators of the seventeenth century; they called them pinguinos, from pengiiigo, meaning grease, a name given them because of the abundance of fat with which these birds are covered. 475 476 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. One can not give a more exact idea of the penguin than by reprint- ing these few lines of M. Racovitza, the eminent naturalist of the Belgica expedition: Imagine a little old man, standing erect, provided with two broad paddles instead of arms, with a head small in comparison with the plump, stout body; imagine this creature with his back covered with a dark coat spotted with blue, tapering behind to a pointed tail that drags on the ground, and adorned in front with a glossy white breastplate. Have this creature walk on his two feet, and give him at the same time a droll little waddle and a continual movement of the head; you have before you something irresistibly attractive and comical. Penguins have inhabited the Antarctic continent from very remote geological periods. We will only remind our readers of the dis- coveries of the Swedish expedition of Dr. Otto Nordenskjéld, who found on Seymour Island fossil bones belonging to five species, each of which formed the type of a new genus, and which lived, according to Dr. Wiman, who made a study of them, at the begin- ning of the Tertiary period, in the Eocene epoch. At the present time, confining ourselves entirely to the birds found below 60° south latitude, five species inhabit these southern lands; among these five, two—the Emperor and the Adelie—are dis- tributed over the whole circumference of the Antarctic continent; the other three are confined to the neighborhood of the South American Antarctic regions. There is first of all the Macaroni penguin (Catarrhactes chrysolophus), of which some rookeries of a few hundred individuals are found on the South Shetland Islands, particularly on Deception Island. It has a height of 60 centimeters; the back and head are bluish-black ' with a velvety luster; above the eyes, bands of elongated eyebrows, golden-yellow, meet on the forehead; the iris is garnet, the beak reddish-brown with the commissure of the mandibles pale purple. It is a quiet, peaceful, trusting creature, letting itself be easily approached when on its nest, and even caressed, rarely trying to give a blow with beak or wing. The rookeries of these Macaroni penguins are often intermingled with those of the Antarctic penguin, with which they live on good terms. In their.nest, which consists of a mere depression in the ground, they lay toward the end of November an egg of a slightly bluish-white, on which the parents sit alternately. Of the five species of Antarctic penguins, Catarrhactes chrysolophus is the one that ventures the shortest distance southward, not going below 63° south latitude. Solitary individuals have been seen in the South Orkney Islands; farther north one finds them in South Georgia and even in the Falklands, and in the east on Prince Edward, Marion, Kerguelen, and Heard Islands. The Antarctic penguin (Pygocelis antarctica), slightly smaller than the preceding, is easily distinguished from the other penguins by the Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 1. ei his a i} 1 2 ANTARCTIC PENGUIN. ADELIE PENGUIN. EMPEROR PENGUIN SALUTING. + oi GENTOO PENGUIN. MARCONI PENGUIN. PENGUINS OF ANTARCTIC REGION—GAIN. 477 black line across its throat. It is as noisy as the Macaroni is quiet, as pugnacious as the other is peaceful. It lives in huge rookeries that inclose sometimes as many as several hundred thousands of indi- viduals. There are usually two eggs in each nest. When one pene- trates into one of these cities, during the season of reproduction, he is immediately greeted by a deafening hubbub of discordant croaking, or of prolonged puffing accompanied by violence, blows from beak and wing, which makes one hesitate to enter into the midst of this hostile crowd. The Antarctic penguins place their rookeries sometimes at a height -of more than a hundred meters, and in order to reach the sea to seek the crustaceans of the genus Euphausia on which they live, they must often make a real journey; one sees them set off in little bands, in Indian file, following the paths that they have worn in the snow as a result of their incessant trips, and looking for the most favorable and least dangerous places along the cliff in order to descend to the shore. On beaches accessible to rookeries, there is usually a host of birds gathered there by the thousand, reminding one of the throngs of human beings that are attracted on fine summer days to our great beaches in France. They chat little; simply a few reflections whis- pered in a low tone, while in the distance one hears the stir of the noisy city. In little troops the penguins take advantage of a momen- tary calm of the waves to throw themselves into the water and go hunting, while others are coming back from the open sea, uttering a joyous caw, caw, and seeking the most favorable spot for landing, heads rising from the water, a last dive, and the wave, rolling in and invading the beach, casts up the troops of penguins that are coming back from the fishing; then comes the climb up the cliff, the return to the rookery where they are to take their post as guardians of the nests and allow those who are awaiting them to set off in their turn for the sea. Rookeries of this penguin are not found south of 65° latitude; one encounters them not only in South American Antarctic regions, but in South Georgia, the Falkland Islands, and Bouvet. The third species inhabiting the Antarctic regions of South America is the Gentoo penguin (Pygoscelis papua), distinguished by the white spot above each eye and by its red beak. Its rookeries, less impor- tant than those of the Antarctic penguin, are situated to the north of the polar circle; in the circum-Antarctic zone it is found as far as the Falklands and toward the east up to Macquarie Island. Very different from the preceding species, these birds are much quieter, living in the greatest peace with one another; they receive visits from human beings with less protest, but with more uneasiness. Careful of their own appearance and of their rookery, their nests 478 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. - are also better constructed, most frequently made of stones to which they add some tail feathers. In November they lay two eggs, white, slightly tinged with azure. Fond of family life, these penguins show great care in bringing up their offspring. If they are timid, careless, and awkward, they have at least one good quality—the tenderness they show toward their young. Much more interesting is the Adelie penguin (Pygoscelis adeliz Hombron and Jacquinot). Its head and back are black with bluish reflections, its short beak brownish-black, the pupil of the eye encircled with a white iris. From whatever side one approaches the Antarctic, whether from south of America or from the longitude of Africa or of Australia, throughout the circumference of this vast polar continent, the Adelie penguin is always one of the animals encountered by the voyager on his route. This bird is everywhere, watches over everything; it is to him, indeed, that the Antarctic belongs. Curious, unruly, violent, a chatterbox and blusterer, of an extraordinary liveliness, you should see him dart like an arrow from the water to a height of more than 2 meters, and fall vertically down again on the piece of ice or the rock chosen for his resting place. Never leaving these regions nor passing north of 60° south latitude, they people the isles of the frontier, the low elevations of the Antarctic continent, on which, during a few months of the year, the snow in melting leaves some clear spaces of soil. On slightly uneven locations they settle in numerous colonies, during the period of breeding and raising their young, forming these noisy cities, these rookeries, which number thousands, often even tens of thousands, and sometimes even hundreds of thousands of individuals. After having abandoned their rookeries for the winter, which they pass on the open sea, opposite the land ice, the Adelies return in October to their cities and immediately take possession of their rocks again. Indeed these rocks are really theirs, for according to the observations made on the spot at Petermann’s Island, where the Pourquoi Pas wintered, I have ascertained, in the case of the Gentoo as well as of the Adelie, that the same birds come back to the same rookery year after year. When the expedition arrived at Petermann’s Island in February, 1909, I put on the right leg of several penguins (young and old) some celluloid rings of various colors, according to the age of the birds. In October and November, 1909, on the return of the birds to their rookeries I had the good fortune to recover a score of adults marked by me nine months before. I did not, however, recover any of the young, which seems to indicate that they do not return to their birth- place and do not mate until 2 years old. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 2. 1. MARCONI PENGUINS AT THE OPENING OF SPRINGTIME RETURNING TO THE OLD ROOKERIES. 2. CORNER OF A ROOKERY OF MARCONI PENGUINS. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 3. 1. PENGUINS ON THE BEACH AT DECEPTION ISLAND. 2. CORNER OF AN ENORMOUS ROOKERY OF ANTARCTIC PENGUINS ON DECEPTION ISLAND (SOUTH SHETLANDS). Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 4. 1. IN ORDER TO GO TO SEA THE ANTARCTIC PENGUINS MUST SOMETIMES MAKE A LONG JOURNEY TO FIND A POINT ALONG THE CLIFFS WHERE THEY CAN REACH THE BEACH. 2. THE FISHING DONE, SOME PENGUINS ARE RETURNING TO THE ROOKERY. 480 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912 who attack, probably with pretty words, dares not decide too quickly. She is intimidated and these attacks of gallantry are generally ended by a regular battle between the suitors; but we can not say with certainty whether the victor in the contest inevitably becomes the husband of the lady Adelie. What confusion in these cities of the Adelie; how many quarrels over stolen pebbles and property rights; how many battles, too, started by jealous husbands! And all this occurs on ground wet with melting snow, stained with mud the color of wine dregs. The Adelies lay two, very rarely three, eggs. They are slightly greenish-white; their weight varies between 125 and 135 grams. The laying begins in the first days of November and ends by the last of December. Male and female alternately sit on the nest. The female takes great care of the eggs; several times during the day she turns them with her beak, then she rests on them so as to bring in contact with the shell the region of the abdomen which on a longitudinal median surface is destitute of feathers. The lower part of the eggs rests on the feet of the bird. Incubation lasts from 33 to 36 days. The first broods hatch in the latter half of December. On hatching they are covered with a uniformly blackish-gray down, darker on the head, which they keep for seven or eight weeks. After the hatching of the eggs, which ends in the first half of Janu- ary, the city presents great animation. The parents must assume the difficult task of nourishing the broods, which are rapidly develop- ing. Also, when the hatching is over, the male and female in turn abandon the nest to go a-fishing. One then sees the Adelie quit the rookery in little flocks, which always follow the same route, and in fleeing make veritable paths in the snow to reach some point on the coast where it will be easy to launch out to sea. The penguins remain in the sea only long enough for the fishing. There, in fact, they encounter their formidable enemies, the killers and the seals. The heron seal (Lobodon carcinophagus), the Weddell seal (Leptomychotes Weddelli), and especially the fierce sea leopard (Hydrurga leptonyx), take for their nourishment an ample supply of penguins. The fishing ended, always in companies, the birds return to the rookery, where they are impatiently awaited by their offspring. With its great belly, which reaches to its feet, the young bird has a very clumsy appearance. Sometimes completely satiated, it remains in place without being able to stir; at other times, moved by hunger, it runs after some adult returning from the sea; it harasses that unfortunate until it finally yields. Through a sort of regurgitation, the bird causes part of the food to return into the throat, where the Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 6. 1. ADELIE PENGUINS WAITING FOR THE MELTING OF THE SNOW SO AS TO BUILD THEIR NESTS ON THE ROCKS BENEATH. IN THE BACKGROUND ARE TWO MALES OF THE SAME TASTE SEEKING THE LOVE OF THE SAME FEMALE. 2. CONSTRUCTION OF A Nest. AN ADELIE PENGUIN CARRYING A STONE IN HIS BEAK. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 7. 1. ADELIE PENGUINS MOLTING. THE SNOW IS COVERED WITH FEATHERS. 2. IN THE DANGEROUS PARTS OF THE ROOKERY THE ADULT ADELIE PENGUINS STAND AS SENTINELS AND REDOUBLE THEIR WATCHFULNESS. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 8. 1. FIGHT OF ADELIE PENGUINS. a ean tn? . “re “a! ve =. : Les : 2. THE FEEDING OF A YOUNG ADELIE PENGUIN. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Gain. PLATE 9 2. YOUNG ADELIE PENGUINS ABANDONING THE ROOKERY. PENGUINS OF ANTARCTIC REGION—GAIN. 481 young glutton, burying its head almost entire in the beak of the adult, searches for it. In general, the broods abandon the nests afew at atime. The young now keep together in small groups, moving about, splashing in the midst of the reddish mud, with which they are covered from head to foot. The very disagreeable odor which comes from them leaves some doubt as to the good hygiene of these animals. Each group is confided to the care of some adults which carefully watch over all these noisy and already inquisitive young creatures. One side of the rookery ends in a cliff overhanging the sea or a ravine, some adults standing there as sentinels. Woe to the curious little one that ventures too near the dangerous spot; the watchman, with a light stroke of the beak or of the wing, reminds the rash bird of the duty of obedience and of the need of returning to the ranks. In February the young, little by little, change the down for the plumage which they wear for a year or until the next molt. They are now distinguished from the adults by the absence of the white iris, also by the color of the throat, which is white instead of black, the line of white and black crossing the cheek below the eye. It is not until the next molting at the end of a year, in February or March, that they take on the plumage of the adult. At the end of February the young can care for themselves; they leave the rookeries and ramble in groups along the coast. From day to day their number dimin- ishes. They leave in March, going northward to dwell on the open sea. The parents have done their work. Having labored for their off- spring during four months, they must now think of themselves. Winter approaches, they must form the new habit which will enable them to endure bad weather. They go to rest on the snow or in some crevice of the rocks, sheltered from the prevailing winds. They remain there in the same place, without moving, during the entire molting season; that is to say, for 20 days. They are com- pelled to live on their reserve fat. They become unsightly, resem- bling birds poorly stuffed, eaten by insects. At the end of March, when the molting is over, the birds in small flocks gradually leave their city, to which they will again return at the close of winter, after seven months’ absence. Finally, the last species, which, like the Adelie, is distributed over the whole extent of the Antarctic continent, is the Emperor Penguin (Aptenodytes Forsteri), a bird of large size, sometimes reaching a height of 1 meter 10 centimeters and a weight of 40 kilo- grams. It is a very beautiful bird; its head is jet black; on each side of the head a band of golden yellow diminishes gradually toward the neck and ventral regions; the back is bluish-gray, the beak to the base of the mandibles purplish-rose. The Emperor does not leave the polar regions, where the birds are found in small groups 482 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. on the icebergs. If two groups happen to meet, the leaders bow to each other, lowering their beaks on their breasts; remaining in this position, they hold a long discourse; then, compliments having been exchanged, they raise their heads and describe a great circle with their beaks. They act in the same way toward men, who generally have great difficulty in understanding this mimicry, obliging the penguin to begin over again. The habits of this penguin are very different from those of the birds that we have just considered. The mode of reproduction is very peculiar, and has been ably studied by Mr. Wilson, naturalist of the Discovery expedition. It occurs in the dead of winter, in the middle of the polar night, at the end of June in cold that may reach 50 C.° below zero when the Emperors gather together near the conti- nent, on a solid iceberg, to lay a single egg. ‘There are no prepara- tions, no nest. To keep the egg off the ice, the penguin places it on his feet, held between his legs, protected by a fold of skin covered with feathers at the base of the abdomen. As the incubation lasts nearly two months, the birds, of which not many are engaged in brooding, pass the egg to one another in turn. At the beginning of September the young is hatched. As there is only one chick to ten or so adults, and as every one of the latter wishes to brood, there is much jostling and struggling to get possession of the little one, that brings upon the poor creature unintentional wounds, sometimes causing its death. Toward the end of October migration toward the north takes place, the birds letting themselves be carried off on fragments of ice broken from the iceberg; the chicks, still covered with down, are carried by their parents. In January they lose this down and from this time on they provide for themselves. While the young live on the outskirts of the icebergs the adults return south to seek solid ice on which they go to molt, then in the month of June they come together again, and the cycle that we have just briefly described begins anew. We have been obliged to pass very rapidly over the study of these birds, of which we have been able to give only a slight sketch. But it is easy to understand that the Antarctic region possesses a distinct avian fauna, characterized by several very remarkable zoological types, and presenting very nearly the same composition throughout its extent. Different members of this fauna extend to very variable distances over certain adjacent lands, in such a way as to exert a greater or less influence on the characteristics of the ornithological population of neighboring regions. THE DERIVATION OF THE EUROPEAN DOMESTIC ANIMALS.! By Prof. Dr. C. Ketier (Zurich). The tremendous advances made in zoogeographic investigations, especially those of the last decade, are very gratifying, and the results have proven especially fruitful in shedding new light upon certain geological problems, but they lkewise emphasize another fact, namely, that in dealing with zoogeographic questions zoologists have so far concerned themselves chiefly with wild faunas. The domesticated fauna seems to have been overlooked and it is seldom indeed that a modern zoogeographic work touches this phase in more than an exceedingly superficial way. Although the domesti- cated fauna is still considered a negligible quantity by many, this is evidently due to old traditions which one might well dispense with at the present time. It is true that this relatively young fauna, produced under the influence of man, can throw no light upon general geographic and geologic problems, but it becomes important in the history of culture and offers valuable points in the discussion of anthropological ques- tions. The faunal character of a given region is very often domi- nated by the domesticated fauna, and while the latter is small as far as the number of species is concerned, yet it makes up for this by a large number of individuals. The domesticated animals enter into close competition with the surrounding wild fauna and force it into the background or even to extinction. A long account might be written upon the changes which have thus taken place in certain regions. [ will simply allude to what has occurred in North America, South Africa, and Australia, where the native fauna was forced to retreat all along the line, in parts even exterminated, during the last century, to make room for an entirely new fauna, that of the domesti- cated species. On European soil these ehanees took place in a less vigorous manner, though the keeping of domesticated animals had its beginning here in neolithic times, when it was wy generally 1 Translated by permission from Verhandlungen des VIII Internationalen Faaleeee ae zu Graz. 15-20 Aug., 1910, pp. 356-365. Jena, 1912. 483 484 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. practiced in southern Europe. The native fauna gave way very slowly but steadily. It is not my desire to discuss all phases of this process, which ex- tends back into ancient, yes, even into prehistoric times. I omit a consideration of changes in the native fauna and will confine myself entirely to the introduction of domesticated animals, so far as we can at present determine the individual phases of this process in Kurope. The solution of this problem has been attempted at various times, but the result has until very recently been incomplete. We shall attempt to demonstrate here what constitutes autochthonous derivation and what has been added from foreign sources. It is evident that the phylogenetic relationships had to be estab- lished before these tangled problems could be approached. Half a century ago the task seemed hopeless. It is sufficiently significant that the celebrated and venerable master of biology, Charles Darwin, as late as 1859, in the first chapter of his path-breaking work, ‘‘ Origin of Species,” gave utterance to the statement that ‘‘The origin of most of our domestic animals will probably forever remain vague.” This really sounded pessimistic, almost like a scientific ‘‘Lasciate ogni speranza!”’ To-day we no longer worship this pessimism, for bit by bit, though not without much effort, we have had many surprising glimpses into the history of the domesticated animals of Europe. In the same year, 1859, a French investigator, Isidore Geoffroy St. Hilaire, approached these problems in a decidedly optimistic manner. He tried to determine the time of appearance and the geographic derivation of our domesticated animals. The Orient and particularly Asia, seemed to him to be the original home of most of these animals, especially those which were attached to the home in the most remote times, that is, the dog, horse, ass, pig, camel, goat, sheep, cow, pigeon, and the hen. It is true, he approaches the sub- ject rather one-sidedly, since he bases his deductions chiefly upon cultural history and does not permit the necessary analytic compara- tive anatomy to assume its proper place. He later received con- siderable aid from Victor Hehn who followed, entirely one-sided, linguistic methods. His well-known work, “Kulturpflanzen und Haustiere in ihrem Ubergang aus Asien nach Grichenland und Italien,’ which received an altogether undeserved attention, has not always been accorded favorable criticism from the scientific side, and even after its careful revision by Schrader it may be looked upon as out of date. In 1862 Ludwig Riitimeyer’s classic ‘Fauna der Pfahlbauten” appeared and formed the turning point in the investigations of the history of European domestic animals. In this work, through pre- historic and comparative anatomic methods, facts were adduced in a EUROPEAN DOMESTIC ANIMALS—KELLER. 485 scientific and unchallengeable manner, showing that already with the beginning of the Lake Dwellings a goodly number of domestic animals had made their appearance in Europe. They were some- what different, it is true, from the present forms, being more primitive and simpler in their race fusion, but nevertheless the races of to-day have their foundation in many instances in those of the Lake Dwell- ings. Riutimeyer’s opinions, although many times attacked, have in the main remained unshaken. MRiitimeyer was not satisfied to simply expound the historic facts, but he attempted in a number of cases to connect these animals with their wild progenitors by com- parative anatomic studies. It is true the material available at that time was very limited. The domestic animals of Asia and Africa were little known. Even Europe, which might have furnished val- uable keys to the situation, was insufficiently explored, and in fact remains so to-day. The genial Riitimeyer nevertheless recognized the relations with ancestral forms perfectly correctly. He cleared up the cattle question and in conjunction with Hermann vy. Nathusius, determined in a different manner the derivation of the domestic pig. Other derivation questions, which he did not deem sufficiently clear, he left open for future consideration. Charles Darwin hailed Riitimeyer’s discoveries with great enthusi- asm in England. He was even stimulated to undertake personal investigations, which resulted in a commendable expounding of the derivation of the pigeons, chickens, and rabbits. Even in the phy- logeny of the dogs, he developed correct and basic principles. Other questions of the day forced the problem of domestic animals into the background, whence it later emerged to a prominent position. A retrogressive movement tended to discredit the Darwinian basis. But the domestic species were responsible for the most important foundation of the Darwinian teachings, and a careful revision of these, therefore, seemed absolutely necessary to support these doc- trines. In fact, the study of the history of the domestic animals of Europe and other places had never ceased. Austria has at all times displayed a lively interest in such problems. I will remind you of Fitzinger, who followed domesticated animal geography until 1876. The labors of Wilkens and especially those of Leopold Adametz have thrown much light upon the cattle question viewed from the zootech- nic standpoint, while those of Woldrich and Jeiteles have empha- sized the prehistoric side. In Germany the labors of Alfred Nehring are well known. With the assistance of my students I have per- sonally attacked the problem of the domesticated animal in all its phases, and thus a lot of material has accumulated, which will give us a Clearer insight into the question. If we examine the derivation 85360°—sm 1912 32 486 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. of European domestic animals in the light of our present knowledge, we find it evident that they came to us from various sources. In the first place, we have a large contingent which is of European origin, and this we must designate as having been derived in an autochthonous manner. Alfred Nehring furnished the convincing proof about the horse, that the heavy, calm strains, which one designates as occidental horses, are traceable to a diluvial wild-horse ancestor of middle Europe. The pigs with the sharp backs, still strongly represented in the northern Alps, especially in Bavaria and northern Germany, were shown by Hermann v. Nathusius and Ludwig Ritimeyer to be de- scendants of the wild pig of Europe; and the short-tailed domestic sheep, which at present have been forced far to the north, appear very probably to have been derived from the south European mouflon, No investigator doubts, since Riitimeyer made his brilliant investi- gations, that the heavy cattle of the steppes of southeastern Europe and the lowland cattle of northwestern Europe have sprung from the aurochs (Bos primigenius), which persisted as a wild animal down to historic times. In spite of all the remonstrances made to me, I am still forced, even more than ever, by my recent investigations, which will be published in a large monograph in the near future, to con- sider the mainland of Greece as the starting point of the Bos primi- genius domestication in the early Mycenian times. The entire process is clearly represented on the noted gold goblet of Vaphio, which undoubtedly is based upon close observation in nature. One might object, saying that no osteological finds of the ur (aurochs) have been made in that region. But yet I have recently demonstrated by means of old Cretan ur pictures and undoubted ur bones that Bos primigenius lived in that region up to the early historic period all objections must vanish. The latest finds tell us that even before the Mycenic period the domesticating of animals had begun in Crete. The latest efforts to prove that the ur was first domesticated in Meso- potamia appear to me to be entirely misplaced. To the smaller domesticated animals, Europe has but compara- tively recently—that is, in historic times—added the rabbit, the goose, and the duck. A second category of domestic animals in Europe is surely of Asiatic origin—that is, introduced. This is not sur- prising, for Europe, geographically considered, is only an Asiatic dependency. Nothing seems more natural than that this colossus land should have given us much from its overabundance of domestic animals. I feel certain that the spitz dog, like the peat dog of the Lake Dwellers, came from western Asia. Even of more certain Asiatic origin are the bronze dogs, whose little-altered descendants greet us to-day in the form of the shepherd dog, both of which have sprung EUROPEAN DOMESTIC ANIMALS—KELLER. 487 from the Indian wolf. It is easily demonstrated that the original home of the great “dogge” is to be found in the highlands of Tibet. They became established in Europe at the time of Alexander the Great, and appeared in our northern Alps at the beginning of the first century, where they were distributed by the Romans. They have been demonstrated in the Roman-Helvetian colony of Vin- donissa and in southern Germany. That the domestic goat, which was kept by the oldest Lake Dwel- lers, is of west Asiatic origin, and derived from the Bezoar goat, is universally acknowledged. It came through the Aegean Islands. In very early times, during the Mycenian period, wool sheep reached Greece and the rest of southern Europe. The story of the “Golden Fleece” points toward Colchis, to the east of the Black Sea, as its original home, and zoogeographic facts point favorably in that direction. As for our pigs, the investigations of Riitimeyer and Nathusius have proved that even in prehistoric times Asiatic blood reached Europe. The banded pig (Sus vittatus) distributed over southeast Asia is the wild pig from which the domesticated Asiatic pig has been developed. All doubts about this are dispelled by the anatomic facts of the case. Southern Europe has always kept these pigs to the exclusion of all others. I was able to demonstrate their presence in the Agean Archipelago, even as far back as the neolithic period. The examination which I conducted upon the skulls of the Spanish and Sardinian domesticated pigs showed that even to-day the Asiatic race has retained its pure strain in the Mediterranean region. It was long unknown which ocean route had been used in the transpor- tation of this animal, in so far as the Semitic culture of Mesopotamia probably refused this domestic animal. Lippert expressed the opinion that it might have reached the west along the northern border of Mesopotamia. The investigations of J. U. Diirst upon the bone remains from the old culture strata of Anau in Turkestan have sub- stantiated these opinions in every way. There can be no doubt that Asia gave to Europe trom its wealth of domesticated horses. The dainty oriental horses prevail over others even to-day in the east and south of our continent. But whether, in addition to the Przewalsky horse, another ancestral horse will have to be considered has not been completely established as yet. But that horses were first domesticated in the interior of Asia has been estab- lished from the historic cultural fact that the domestic horse appeared first in large numbers, historically considered, in the interior of Asia. The prehistoric presence of the domestic horse is known for Turk- estan, where it occurs in the very oldest culture strata. This has the characters of the oriental horse and was of small size. It may have become distributed over Asia Minor at an early period, whence it 488 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. most likely reached Europe through the old Cretan and Minos cul- ture. Arthur Evans discovered pictures at Knossos in which horses were transported upon ships. In a few words I would like to point out that the species of camels appeared first under domestication in the interior of Asia and that their distribution was relatively late. Europe received this Asiatic contribution only in the south, and there even only locally. As a curiosity it might be mentioned that the camel appeared in the northern Alps at the beginning of the first. century. I received a fragment of an upper jaw from the Helvetian-Roman colony Vin- donissa. The Romans probably only introduced single animals for show, for it is hardly possible that they were used for agricultural purposes. The oldest center of domesticated cattle is situated im southeast Asia. I devoted many years to the cattle question and was able to demonstrate upon the basis of proper anatomical material that a single species, the banteng (Bos sondaicus), which still exists in the wild state in those regions, constitutes the sole progenitor of that stock. This stock migrated westward, namely, into Africa, and the smaller races reached Europe, even in prehistoric times, where they have continued to the present day as the smaller, short-horned race. The Asiatic stock is the richest in individuals and the most universally distributed. Of our domestic birds, the hen, as Darwin has pointed out, is of southeast Asiatic origin. In those regions alone combed chickens occur in a wild state. We can follow the route of the hen over Persia to Greece, where it arrived in the middle of the first century B. C.; that is, in historic times. The peacock also comes from southern Asia. The pigeon is probably of west Asiatic origin, for in history it appears first in the southeast corner of the Mediterranean, where it is frequently associated with cultural rites. On the other hand, the pigeon was already well established during the older dynasties of Egypt, and it is not impossible that it was first domesticated in the valley of the Nile. We do not wish to discredit a considerable con- tribution from Asia, but I have for years defended the position that Africa has furnished us more than we have been accustomed to admit. This African importation is quite considerable. Even the short-horned cattle, which reached Europe during the neolithic period and which has maintained its primitive form in southern Europe, and has continued as the brown cattle of the central Alps, it seems most plausible to me, appears to have reached Europe from Asia by way of Africa. Even Riitimeyer noticed that the typical form was found in north Africa. Lately Prof. Naville has found a wonderful stone statue of a sacred cow of the eighteenth EUROPEAN DOMESTIC ANIMALS—KELLER. 489 dynasty, whose head corresponds wonderfully with that of the Sar- dinian cattle. Western Asia never did possess a sufficiently great abundance of cattle to part with a considerable quantity of it. It is also a remarkable fact that short-horned cattle appear relatively late and scantily in the cultural strata. It is possible that this cattle may have reached western Asia by way of Egypt and Syria, for the culture of the Nile Valley is much older than that of western Asia. Of undoubted African origin is the peat sheep, that small goat-like race of sheep which was first demonstrated in the Lake Dwellings of Switzerland, and which has maintained itself, almost as a pure strain, to the turning of the century, in small remnants, in the lesser isolated valleys of the Biindneroberland. The characters of the skull and the long tail point to a half sheep. Old Egyptian pictures teach us that the African maned sheep was domesticated at an early period in the Nile Valley; and I surmise that the peat sheep has made its way from Egypt over Greece to Europe. I base my conclusions on this point upon a few sheep pictures from the Mycenic period. Lately [ found not only peat sheep remains of the neolithic period in Crete, but also, to my great surprise, many herds of small, pure strain, peat sheep in the hills of Crete, which have been able to maintain them- selves there in full vigor to the present time. Of African source is also the domestic ass, whose derivation from the African wild ass was completely demonstrated by Darwin. This animal entered Europe at a very early date, but became an agricultural element only in the lands along the Mediterranean. Its domestication dates far back in Africa. It was pressed into service long before the horse, and was probably first domesticated by the old Hamites. That the house cat is of African origin goes without challenge; likewise that it was extracted from the Nubian cat. It is missing in our Lake Dwelling period, and has made only slow progress in historic times in Europe. Africa, and especially Egypt, has also furnished us some of our dogs. The Paria dogs of TurkeyY and southern Bulgaria, which I had a chance to observe recently in Constantinople, are related to the Paria dogs of Egypt. The greyhounds are undoubtedly of African origin and are derived from the Abyssinian wolf (Canis simensis). In the time of the older dynasties the greater part still possessed erect ears, and they were greatly prized in the land of the Pharaohs. This old race, which one finds so often represented on antique mural paintings, became extinct in the Nile Valley at an unknown period. Their progeny has, through further domestication and breeding, become strongly changed, but not entirely lost. I recently found living on the east Spanish islands of Mallorka and Ibiza a strong colony of the erect- eared greyhound of old Egypt. In 1909 I was able to demonstrate 490 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. a second colony on the island of Crete. For the long-eared hunting dogs we will also have to assume an African origin, for they appear first in the oldest dynasties; in fact, it is questionable if they have not been demonstrated in neolithic times, though this seems to be carry- ing things a little too far. Hunting dogs reached the lands of the Mediterranean from Egypt, where they are still, numerically speak- ing, best represented. In conclusion, I wish to answer the question: From what places in Asia and Africa did the animals emigrate to reach Europe ? This question is most intimately related with the derivation of the sum total of European culture, of which the domestic animals form a considerable part of the cultural acquirement. How far the lands of the Caucasus have figured as an entrance port remains to be determined. It is important to consider next the Aigean Isles as an intermediary, for these form a bridge to Europe. Here one has recently discovered a peculiar island culture, which, in many respects, might be considered Mycenian. This, of course, is uncertain. ‘To our great surprise, a much older and much more remarkable culture has been discovered on the island of Crete in the last 10 years. Following Arthur Evans, one now calls this the ‘“Minoic culture.”’ This must be considered the root from which the later Mycenian culture sprang. I convinced myself in 1909 by examinations made on the spot tnoat the Minoic bone remains and pictures embrace the most im- portant domesticated animals of Europe. Old Crete, indeed, formed a stepping-stone over which most of the domestic animals of Asia and Africa passed to reach the mainland of Europe. The geographic position of Crete was exceedingly well suited to play this intermediary réle, for in the first place this island lies equidistant from the three continents, and, besides, it possessed a considerable navy even at the time of Minos, whose ships were in close touch with the east and south. Even as far back as 3000 B. C. a decided cultural influence from Egypt affected this large island of the Aegean Sea, while the Asiatic influence was still scarcely recognizable. Painting and sculpture show remarkable progress at an early period, of which the animal representations possess an especial interest to us. Bone finds also are not absent, and these documents furnish us with valuable data concerning the trend taken by wanderings of the domestic animals. Crete was, even during the neolithic culture period, a prominent center; for example, the neolithic deposits in Knossos, attamed the size of 6 meters or more. In these I was able to demonstrate re- mains of the peat sheep, the peat pig, and peat cattle. These races, therefore, have undoubtedly been transmitted to us over Crete. EUROPEAN DOMESTIC ANIMALS—KELLER. 491 In Mochlos, an ancient culture station on the Bay of Mirabella, I found upon the lid of a vessel made of black steatite the splendidly carved figure of an erect-eared greyhound. Such greyhounds as were bred in Egypt had evidently reached Crete 2000 years B.C. They appeared then frequently upon ancient Cretan coins, such as those of Kydonia. The greyhounds of Crete were famous in ancient days and were exported in great numbers to the mainland of Greece. The same route was followed by the cat. That their original home is to be found in the Nile Valley may be assumed. They reached Crete during the later Minoic period, for we know of a mural painting belonging to the period of about 1500 B. C. which comes from Phiistos and represents the domestic cat quite well. This animal also appears upon a Mycenic terra cotta from Gournia. Tt arrived in Greece much later. Horses were obtained in Asia Minor. A picture from Knossos represents their transportation by boat very graphically. Ina similar manner the ass must have reached Crete and Greece from north Africa. It can be shown with considerable certainty that the pigeon reached Europe by way of Crete. It is pictured at the time of Minos, and is associated with cultura] rites. It probably reached Sicily from Crete. An important domestic bird of Egypt, the Nile goose, was also brought to Crete. Its picture occurs upon an earthenware coffin, excavated at Gortyna; but this bird disappeared there as in its old home and was unable to reach the mainland of Europe. If we recall that ancient Crete, even during the Hero period, and in the beginning of the earliest historic period, extended its culture over the Cyclades and even subjugated Athens and possessed colonies in Asia Minor, then we will understand its bearing on the distribution of the domesticated animal culture. The great period of Minos Island is past, for already at the conclusion of the Trojan War a decline began, and its independence was lost to the Romans at the beginning of the first century. But the domesticated animals of that ancient period remained and persist as living relics even to the present day. I have been taught by an examination of the domestic animals of Crete as they exist to-day that the old peat cattle, the Cretan dogs, and the goat-like peat sheep are living witnesses of that ancient domestic animal migration whose ultimate goal was Europe. ; - er eRe ARs Taya! bid op. ‘ ‘ . ee” een 145, fd Le ! Lid Wien fetal Oot ‘7 yanhtoad 0 a ht ; LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE! By E. A. Scnirer, LL.D., D.Sc., M.D., F.BS., Professor of Physiology in Edinburgh. PREFACE. Tn the following essay, which formed the presidential address to the British Association at its meeting in Dundee in 1912, I have tried to indicate in clear language the general trend of modern biochemical inquiries regarding the nature and origin of living material and the manner in which the life of multicellular organisms, especially that of the higher animals and man, is maintained. I have also stated the conclusions which it appears to me may legitimately be drawn from the result of those inquiries, without ignoring or minimizing such difficulties as these conclusions present. There is, it may be admitted, nothing new in the idea that living matter must at some time or another have been formed from lifeless material, for in spite of the dictum omne vivum e vivo, there was cer- tainly a period in the history of the earth when our planet could have supported no kind of life, as we understand the word; there can, therefore, exist no difference of opinion upon this point among scientific thinkers. Nor is it the first time that the possibility of the synthetic production of living substance in the laboratory has been suggested. But only those who are ignorant of the progress which biochemistry has made in recent years would be bold enough to affirm that the subject is not more advanced than in the days of Tyndall and of Huxley, who showed the true scientific instinct in affirming a belief in the original formation of life from lifeless material and in hinting at the possibility of its eveniual synthesis, although there was then far less foundation upon which to base such an opinion than we of the present day possess. The investigations of Fischer, of Abderhalden, of Hopkins, and of others too numerous to mention, have thrown a flood of light upon the constitution of the materials of which living substance is composed; and, in particular, the epoch- making researches of Kossel into the chemical composition of nuclear 1 An address delivered to the British Association for the Advancement of Science, at its meeting at Dun- dee in September, 1912. Reprinted by permission from pamphlet copy printed by Longmans, Green «& Co., London, 1912. 493 494 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. substance—which in certain forms may be regarded as the simplest type of living maiter, while it is certainly the fons et origo of all active chemical processes within most cells—have shown how much less complex in chemical nature this substance may be than physiologists were a few years ago accustomed to regard it. On this and other grounds it has lately been independently suggested by Prof. Minchin that the first living material origmally took the form, not of what is commonly termed protoplasm, but of nuclear matter or chromatin: a suggestion which appears by no means improbable. If the honored names of Charles Darwin, Ernst Hiickel, and August Weismann are not found in the following pages, it is because exigen- cies of space and time rendered it necessary to deal maimly with the more modern developments of this chapter of evolutionary history. For other but not less cogent reasons all metaphysical speculations on the subjects dealt with have been avoided. The study of natural knowledge, as the Royal Society still quaintly describes in its title the investigation of the phenomena of nature, is never properly advanced if mixed up with the ‘‘supernatural”’ or if metaphysics is appealed to for the explanation of scientific problems which can not at once be solved by ordinary scientific methods; and it behooves us to eliminate all considerations involving the intervention of superantural agencies just as much in connection with scientific Inquiries into the nature and origin of life as with all other matters which are properly the subject of scientific investigation. This is not materialism, but common sense. The first part of the subject of this address is dealt with at consider- able length and in a strictly scientific spirit by Le Dantec in ‘‘The Nature and Origin of Life,’ as well as by Dastre in the book mentioned on the next page. To works such as these the reader is referred for the numerous details which it is impossible to include within the limits of a short essay. DEFINITION. Everybody knows, or thinks he knows, what life is; at least we are all acquainted with its ordinary, obvious manifestations. It would therefore seem that it should not be difficult to find an exact definition. The quest has, nevertheless, baffled the most acute thinkers. Herbert Spencer devoted two chapters of his ‘‘ Principles of Biology’’ to the discussion of the attempts at definition which had up to that date been proposed, and himself suggested another. But at the end of it all he is constrained to admit that no expression had been found which would embrace all the known manifestations of animate, and at the same time exclude those of admittedly inanimate, objects. The ordinary dictionary definition of life is ‘‘the state of living.” Dastre, following Claude Bernard, defines it as ‘‘the sum total of LIFE; ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 495 the phenomena common to all living beings.” * Both of these definitions are, however, of the same character as Sidney Smith’s definition of an archdeacon as ‘‘a person who performs archidiaconal functions.” I am not myself proposing to take up your time by attempting to grapple with a task which has proved too great for the intellectual giants of philosophy, and I have the less disposition to do so, because recent advances in knowledge have suggested the probability that the dividing line between animate and inanimate matter is less sharp than it has hitherto been regarded, so that the dif- ficylty of finding an inclusive definition is correspondingly increased. As a mere word “‘life”’ is interesting in the fact that it is one of those abstract terms which has no direct antithesis, although proba- bly most persons would regard ‘‘death” in that light. A little con- sideration will show that this is not the case. ‘‘Death’ implies the preexistence of “‘life.’ There are physiological grounds for regarding death as a phenomenon of life—it is the completion, the last act of life. We can not speak of a nonliving object as possessing death in the sense that we speak of a living object as possessing life. The adjective ‘‘dead” is, it is true, applied in a popular sense anti- thetically to objects which have never possessed life, as in the pro- verbial expression ‘‘as dead as a doornail.’’ But in the strict sense such application is not justifiable, since the use of the terms ‘‘dead” and ‘“‘living”’ implies either in the past or in the present the posses- sion of the recognized properties of living matter. On the other hand, the expressions living and lifeless, animate and inanimate furnish terms which are undoubtedly antithetical. Strictly and literally the words ‘‘animate” and ‘‘inanimate” express the presence or absence of ‘‘soul,” and not infrequently we find the terms “‘life” and ‘‘soul” erroneously employed as if identical. But it is hardly necessary for me to state that the remarks I have to make regarding “life” must not be taken to apply to the conception to which the word ‘‘soul” is attached. The fact that the formation of such a conception is only possible in connection with life, and that the growth and elaboration of the conception has only been possible as the result of the most complex processes of life in the most complex of living organisms has doubtless led to a belief in the identity of life with soul. But unless the use of the expression ‘“‘soul’’ is extended to a degree which would deprive it of all special signifi- cance, the distinction between these terms must be strictly main- tained. For the problems of life are essentially problems of matter; we can not conceive of life in the scientific sense as existing apart from matter. The phenomena of life are investigated, and can only be investigated, by the same methods as all other phenomena of matter, and the general results of such investigations tend to t La vie et la mort, English translation by W. J. Greenstreet, 1911, p. 54. 496 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. show that living beings are governed by laws identical with those which govern inanimate matter. The more we study the manifes- tations of life the more we become convinced of the truth of this statement and the less we are disposed to call in the aid of a special and unknown form of energy to explain those manifestations. PHENOMENA INDICATIVE OF LIFE—MOVEMENT. The most obvious manifestation of life is ‘‘spontaneous’”’ move- ment. We see a man, a dog, a bird move, and we know that they are alive. We place a drop of pond water under the microscope, and see numberless particles rapidly moving within it; we affirm that it swarms with ‘‘life.”” We notice a small mass of clear slime changing its shape, throwing out projections of its structureless substance, creeping from one part of the field of the microscope to another. We recognize that the slime is living; we give it a name—Ameba limaz— the slug ameeba. We observe similar movements in individual cells of our own body; in the white corpuscles of our blood, m connective tissue cells, in growing nerve cells, in young cells everywhere. We denote the similarity between these movements and those of the amcba by employing the descriptive term ‘‘amcboid”’ for both. We regard such movements as indicative of the possession of ‘‘life’’; nothing seems more justifiable than such an inference. But physicists ! show us movements of a precisely similar character in substances which no one by any stretch of imagination can regard as living; movements of oil drops, of organic and inorganic mixtures, even of mercury globules, which are indistinguishable in their char- acter from those of the living organisms we have been studying: movements which can only be described by the same term amceboid, yet obviously produced as the result of purely physical and chemical reactions causing changes in surface tension of the fluids under exam- ination.2 It is therefore certain that such movements are not spe- cifically ‘‘vital,” that their presence does not necessarily denote ‘‘life.” And when we investigate closely, even such active movements as those of a vibratile cilium or a phenomenon so intimately identified with life as the contraction of a muscle, we find that these present so many analogies with amaboid movements as to render it certain that they are fundamentally of the same character and produced in much the same manner.’ Nor can we for a moment doubt that the 1G. Quincke, Annal. d. Physik u. Chem., 1870 and 1888. 2 The causation not only of movements but of various other manifestations of life by alterations in surface tension of living substance is ably dealt with by A. B. Macallum in a recent article in Asher and Spiro’s Ergebnisse der Physiologie, 1911. Macallum has described an accumulation of potassium salts at the more active surfaces of the protoplasm of many cells, and correlates this with the production of cell activity by the effect of such accumulation upon the surface tension. The literature of the subject will be found in this article. 3G. F. Fitzgerald (Brit. Assoc. Reports, 1898, and Scient. Trans. Roy. Dublin Society, 1898) arrived at this conclusion with regard to muscle from purely physical considerations. LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 497 complex actions which are characteristic of the more highly differ- entiated organisms have been developed in the course of evolution from the simple movements characterizing the activity of undiffer- entiated protoplasm; movements which can themselves, as we have seen, be perfectly imitated by nonliving material. The chain of evidence regarding this particular manifestation of life—movement— is complete. Whether exhibited as the amcboid movement of the proteus animalcule or of the white corpuscle of our blood; as the ciliary motion of the infusorian or of the ciliated cell; as the con- traction of a muscle under the governance of the will, or as the throbbing of the human heart responsive to every emotion of the mind, we can not but conclude that it is alike subject to and produced in conformity with the general laws of matter by agencies resembling those which cause movements in lifeless material. ASSIMILATION AND DISASSIMILATION. It will perhaps be contended that the resemblances between the movements of living and nonliving matter may be only superficial, and that the conclusion regarding their identity to which we are led will be dissipated when, we endeavor to penetrate more deeply into the working of living substance. For can we not recognize along with the possession of movement the presence of other phenomena which are equally characteristic of life and with which nonliving material is not endowed? Prominent among the characteristic phe- nomena of life are the processes of assimilation and disassimilation, the taking in of food and its elaboration.? These, surely, it may be thought, are not shared by matter which is not endowed with life. Unfortunately for this argument, similar processes occur character- istically in situations which no one would think of associating with the presence of life. A striking example of this is afforded by the osmotic phenomena presented by solutions separated from one another by semipermeable membranes or films, a condition which is precisely that which is constantly found in living matter.’ It is not so long ago that the chemistry of organic matter was thought to be entirely different from that of inorganic substances. 1 “Vital spontaneity, so readily accepted by persons ignorant of biology, is disproved by the whole history ofscience. Every vital manifestation is a response to a stimulus, a provoked phenomenon. It is unneces- sary to say this is also the case with brute bodies, since that is precisely the foundation of the great principle of the inertia of matter. Itis plain that it is also as applicable to living as to inanimate matter.’’—Dastre, op. cit., p. 280. 2The terms “assimilation”? and ‘“disassimilation’’ express the physical and chemical changes which occur within protoplasm as the result of the intake of nutrient material from the circumambient medium and its ultimate transformation into waste products which are passed out again into that medium; the whole cycle of these changes being embraced under the term “‘ metabolism.” 3 Leduc (The Mechanism of Life, English translation by W. Deane Butcher, 1911) has given many illus- trations of this statement. In the report of the meeting of 1867 in Dundee is a paper by Dr. J. D. Heaton (On Simulations of Vegetable Growths by Mineral Substances) dealing with the same class of phenomena. See also J. Hall-Edwards, Address to Birmingham and Midland Institute, November, 1911. The condi- tions of osmosis in cells have been especially studied by Hamburger (Osmotischer Druck und Ionenlehre, Wiesbaden, 1902-4). 498 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. But the line between inorganic and organic chemistry, which up to the middle of the last century appeared sharp, subsequently became misty and has now disappeared. Similarly the chemistry of living organisms, which is now a recognized branch of organic chemistry, but used to be considered as so much outside the domain of the chemist that it could only be dealt with by those whose special business it was to study ‘‘vital’’ processes, is passing more and more out of the hands of the biologist and into those of the pure chemist. THE COLLOID CONSTITUTION OF LIVING MATTER. Somewhat more than half a century ago Thomas Graham published his epoch-making observations relating to the properties of matter in the colloidal state, observations which are proving all-important in assisting our comprehension of the properties of living substance. For it is becoming every day more apparent that the chemistry and physics of the living organism are essentially the chemistry and physics of nitrogenous colloids. Living substance or protoplasm always, in fact, takes the form of a colloidal solution. In this solu- tion the colloids are associated with crystalloids (electrolytes), which are either free in the solution or attached to the molecules of the colloids. Surrounding and inclosing the living substance thus con- stituted of both colloid and crystalloid material is a film, probably also formed of colloid, but which may have a lipoid substratum associated with it (Overton). This film serves the purpose of an osmotic mem- brane, permitting of exchanges by diffusion between the colloidal solu- tion constituting the protoplasm and the circumambient medium in which if lives. Other similar films or membranes occur in the interior of protoplasm. These films have in many cases specific characters, both physical and chemical, thus favoring the diffusion of special kinds of material into and out of the protoplasm and from one part of the protoplasm to another. It is the changes produced under these physical conditions, associated with those caused by active chemical agents formed within protoplasm and known as enzymes, that effect assimilation and disassimilation. Quite similar changes can be pro- duced outside the body (in vitro) by the employment of methods of a purely physical and chemical nature. It is true that we are not yet familiar with all the intermediate stages of transformation of the materials which are taken in by a living body into the materials which are given out from it. But since the initial processes and the final results are the same as they would be on the assumption that the changes are brought about in conformity with the known laws of chemistry and physics, we may fairly conclude that all changes in living substance are brought about by ordinary chemical and physical forces. LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 499 SIMILARITY OF PROCESSES OF GROWTH AND REPRODUCTION IN LIVING AND NONLIVING MATTER. Should it be contended that growth and reproduction are praper- ties possessed only by living bodies and constitute a test by which we may differentiate between life and nonlife, between the animate and inanimate creation, it must be replied that no contention can be more fallacious. Inorganic crystals grow and multiply and reproduce their like, given a supply of the requisite pabulum. In most cases for each kind of crystal there is, as with living organisms, a limit of growth which is not exceeded, and further increase of the crystalline matter results not im further increase in size but in multiplication of similar crystals. Leduc has shown that the growth and division of artificial colloids of an inorganic nature, when placed in an appropriate medium, present singular resemblances to the phenomena of the growth and division of living organisms. Even so complex a process as the division of a cell nucleus by karyokinesis as a preliminary to the multipheation of the cell by division—a phenomenon which would prima facie have seemed and has been commonly regarded as a dis- tinctive manifestation of the life of the cell—can be imitated with solutions of a simple inorganic salt, such as chloride of sodium, con- taining a suspension of carbon particles; which arrange and rearrange themselves under the influence of the movements of the electrolytes in a manner indistinguishable from that adopted by the particles of chromatin in a dividing nucleus. And in the process of sexual reproduction, the researches of J. Loeb and others upon the ova of the sea urchin have proved that we can no longer consider such an apparently vital phenomenon as the fertilization of the egg as being the result of living material brought to it by the spermatozoon, since it is possible to start the process of division of the ovum and the resulting formation of cells, and ultimately of all the tissues and organs—in shoft, to bring about the development of the whole body—if a simple chemical reagent is substituted for the male element in the process of fertilization. Indeed, even a mechanical or electrical stimulus may suffice to start development. ‘‘ Kurz und gut,’ as the Germans say, vitalism as a working hypothesis has not only had its foundations undermined, but most of the superstructure has toppled over, and if any difficulties of explanation still persist, we are justified in assuming that the cause is to be found in our im- perfect knowledge of the constitution and working of living material. At the best, vitalism explains nothing, and the term ‘‘vital force” is an expression of ignorance which can bring us no further along the path of knowledge. Nor is the problem in any way advanced by substituting for the term ‘“vitalism” ‘‘neovitalism,’’ and for ‘vital force” “biotic energy.” * ‘‘New presbyter is but old priest writ large.’ 1B. Moore, in Recent Advances in Physiology, 1906; Moore and Roaf, ibid.; and Further Advances in Physiology, 1909. Moore lays especial stress on the transformations of energy which occur in protoplasm. See on the question of vitalism Gley (Revue Scientifique, 1911) and D’Arey Thompson (address to Section D at Portsmouth, 1911), 500 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. POSSIBILITY OF THE SYNTHESIS OF LIVING MATTER. Further, in its chemical composition we are no longer compelled to consider living substance as possessing infinite complexity, as was thought to be the case when chemists first began to break up the proteins of the body into their simpler constituents. The researches of Miescher, which have been continued and elaborated by Kossel and his pupils, have acquainted us with the fact that a body so important for the nutritive and reproductive functions of the cell as the nucleus—which may be said indeed to represent the quintessence of cell life—possesses a chemical constitution of no very great com- plexity; so that we may even hope some day to see the material which composes it prepared synthetically. And when we consider that the nucleus is not only itself formed of living substance, but is capable of causing other living substance to be built up—ais, in fact, the directing agent in all the principal chemical changes which take place within the living cell—it must be admitted that we are a long step forward in our knowledge of the chemical basis of life. That it is the form of nuclear matter rather than its chemical and molecular structure which is the important factor in nuclear activity can not be supposed. The form of nuclei, as every microscopist knows, varies infinitely, and there are numerous living organisms in which the nuclear matter is without form, appearing simply as granules distributed in the protoplasm. Not that the form assumed and the transformations undergone by the nucleus are without importance; but it is none the less true that even in an amorphous condition the material which in the ordinary cell takes the form of a “nucleus” may, in simpler organisms which have not in the process of evolution become complete cells, fulfill functions m many respects similar to those fulfilled by the nucleus of the more differentiated organism. A similar anticipation regarding the probability of eventual syn- thetic production may be made for the proteins of the cell substance. Considerable progress in this direction has indeed already been made by Emil Fischer, who has for many years been engaged in the task of building up the nitrogenous combinations which enter into the forma- tion of the complex molecule of protein. It is satisfactory to know that the significance of the work both of Fischer and of Kossel in this field of biological chemistry has been recognized by the award to each of these distinguished chemists of a Nobel prize. THE CHEMICAL CONSTITUTION OF LIVING SUBSTANCE. The elements composing living substance are few in number. Those which are constantly present are carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. With these, both in nuclear matter and also, but to a less degree, in the more diffuse living material which we know as LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 501 protoplasm, phosphorus is always associated. “‘Ohne Phosphor kein Gedanke” is an accepted aphorism; ‘‘Ohne Phosphor kein Leben” is equally true. Moreover, a large proportion, rarely less than 70 per cent, of water appears essential for any manifestation of life, although not in all cases necessary for its continuance, since organ- isms are known which will bear the loss of the greater part if not the whole of the water they contain without permanent impairment of their vitality. The presence of certain inorganic salts is no less essential, chief amongst them being chloride of sodium and salts of calcium, magnesium, potassium, and iron. The combination of these elements into a colloidal compound represents the chemical basis of life; and when the chemist succeeds in building up this com- pound it will without doubt be found to exhibit the phenomena which we are in the habit of associating with the term ‘‘life.’’ ? SOURCE OF LIFE—THE POSSIBILITY OF SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. The above considerations seem to point to the conclusion that the possibility of the production of life, i. e., of living material, is not so remote as has been generally assumed. Since the experiments of Pasteur, few have ventured to affirm a belief in the spontaneous gen- eration of bacteria and monads and other micro-organisms, although before his time this was by many believed to be of universal occur- rence. My esteemed friend Dr. Charlton Bastian is, so far as I am aware, the only scientific man of eminence who still adheres to the old creed, and Dr. Bastian, in spite of numerous experiments and the publication of many books and papers, has not hitherto succeeded in winning over many converts to his opinion. Jam myself so entirely convinced of the accuracy of the results which Pasteur obtained—are they not within the daily and hourly experience of everyone who deals with the sterilization of organic solutions?—that I do not hesi- tate to believe, if living torule or mycelia are exhibited to me in flasks which had been subjected to prolonged boiling after being hermetically sealed, that there has been some fallacy either in the premises or in the carrying out of the operation. The appearance of organisms in such flasks would not furnish to my mind proof that they were the result of spontaneous generation. Assuming no fault in manipulation or fallacy in observation, I should find it simpler to believe that the germs of such organisms have resisted the effects of prolonged heat than that they became generated spontaneously. If spontaneous generation is possible, we can not expect it to take the form of living beings which show so marked a degree of differentiation, both structural and functional, as the organisms which are described 1 The most recent account of the chemistry of protoplasm is that by Botazzi (Das Cytoplasma u. die Korpersiifte) in Winterstein’s Handb. d. vergl. Physiologie, Bd. I, 1912. The literature is given in this article. 85360°—sm 1912 33 502 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. as making their appearance in these experimental flasks.1. Nor should we expect the spontaneous generation of living substance of any kind to occur in a fluid the organic constituents of which have been so altered by heat that they can retain no sort of chemical resem- blance to the organic constituents of living matter. If the formation of life, of living substance, is possible at the present day—and for my own part I see no reason to doubt it—a boiled infusion of organic matter, and still less of inorganic matter, is the last place in which to look for it. Our mistrust of such evidence as has yet been brought forward need not, however, preclude us from admitting the possibility of the formation of living from nonliving substance.’ LIFE A PRODUCT OF EVOLUTION. Setting aside, as devoid of scientific foundation, the idea of imme- diate supernatural intervention in the first production of life, we are not only justified in believing, but compelled to believe, that living matter must have owed its origin to causes similar in character to those which have been instrumental in producing all other forms of matter in the universe; in other words, to a process of gradual evolu- tion. But it has been customary of late amongst biologists to shelve the investigation of the mode of origin of life by evolution from nonliv- ing matter by relegating its solution to some former condition of the earth’s history, when, it is assumed, opportunities were accidentally favorable for the passage of inanimate matter into animate; such opportunities, it is also assumed, having never since recurred and being never likely to recur.‘ 1 Tt is fair to point out that Dr. Bastian suggests that the formation of ultra microscopic living particles may precede the appearance of the microscopic organisms which he describes.—The Origin of Life, 1911, p. 65. 2 The present position of the subject is suecinetly stated by Dr. Chalmers Mitchell in his article on ‘‘ Abio- genesis” in the Encyclopedia Britannica. Dr. Mitchell adds: ‘‘It may be that in the progress of science it may yet be possible to construct living protoplasm from nonliving material. The refutation of abiogene- sis has no further bearing on this possibility than to make it probable that if protoplasm ultimately be formed in the laboratory, it will be by a series of steps, the earlier steps being the formation of some sub- stance or substances now unknown which are not protoplasm. Such intermediate stages may have existed in the past.’? And Huxley in his presidential address at Liverpool in 1870 says: “‘ But though T can not express this conviction (i. e., of the impossibility of the occurrence of abiogenesis, as exemplified by the appearance of organisms in hermetically sealed and sterilized flasks) too strongly, I must carefully guard myself against the supposition that I intend to suggest that no such thing as abiogenesis ever has taken place in the past or ever will take place in the future. With organic chemistry, molecular physics, and physiology yet in their infancy and every day making prodigious strides, I think it would be the height of presumption for any man to say that the conditions under which matter assumes the properties we call ‘vital’? may not some day be artificially brought together.’’ 3 The arguments in favor of this proposition have been arrayed by Meldola in his Herbert Spencer Lecture, 1910, pp. 16-24. Meldola leaves the question open whether such evolution has occurred only in past years or is also taking place now. He concludes that whereas certain carbon compounds have survived by reason of possessing extreme stability, others—the precursors of living matter—survived owing to the possession of extreme lability and adaptability to variable conditions of environment. A similar suggestion was previously made by Lockyer, Inorganic Evolution, 1900, pp. 169, 170. 47, H. [uxley, presidential address, 1870; A. B. Macallum, ‘‘On the Origin of Life on the Globe,” in Trans, Canadian Institute, vol. 8. ett ian LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 503 Various eminent scientific men have even supposed that life has not actually originated upon our globe, but has been brought to it from another planet or from another stellar system. Some of my audience may still remember the controversy that was excited when the theory of the origin of terrestrial life by the intermediation of a meteorite was propounded by Sir William Thomson in his presidential address at the meeting of this association in Edinburgh in 1871. To this ‘‘meteorite’’ theory ' the apparently fatal objection was raised that it would take some 60,000,000 years for a meteorite to travel from the nearest stellar system to our earth, and it is inconceivable that any kind of life could be maintained during such a period. Even from the nearest planet 150 years would be necessary, and the heating of the meteorite in passing through our atmosphere and at its impact with the earth would, in all probability, destroy any life which might have existed within it. A cognate theory, that of cosmic panspermia, assumes that life may exist and may have existed indefinitely in cosmic dust in the interstellar spaces (Richter, 1865; Cohn, 1872), and may with this dust fall slowly to the earth without undergoing the heating which is experienced by a meteorite. Arrhenius,? who adopts this theory, states that if living germs were carried through the ether by luminous and other radiations, the time necessary for their transportation from our globe to the nearest stellar system would be only 9,000 years, and to Mars only 20 days! But the acceptance of such theories of the arrival of life on the earth does not bring us any nearer to a conception of its actual mode of origin; on the contrary, it merely serves to banish the investigation of the question to some conveniently inaccessible corner of the uni- verse and leaves us in the unsatisfactory position of affirming not only that we have no knowledge as to the mode of origin of life— which is unfortunately true—but that we never can acquire such knowledge—which it is to be hoped is not true. Knowing what we know, and believing what we believe, as to the part played by evo- lution in the development of terrestrial matter, we are, I think (with- out denying the possibility of the existence ot life in other parts of the universe‘), justified in regarding these cosmic theories as inher- ently improbable—at least in comparison with the solution of the problem which the evolutionary hypothesis offers.’ 1 First suggested, according to Dastre, by de Salles-Guyon (Dastre, op. cit., p. 252). The theory received the support of Helmholtz. 2 Worlds in the Making, transl. by H. Borns, Chap. VIII, p. 221, 1908. +“The History of science shows how dangerous it is to brush aside mysteries—i. e., unsolved problems— and to interpose the barrier placarded ‘eternal—no thoroughfare.’ ”’—R. Meldola, Herbert Spencer Lecture, 1910. ‘Some authorities, such as Errera, contend with much probability, that the conditions in interstellar space are such that life, as we understand it, could not possibly exist there. ® As Verworn points out, such theories would equally apply to the origin of any other chemical combi- nation, whether inorganic or organic, which is met with on our globe, so that they lead directly to absurd conclusions.—Allgemeine Physiologie, 1911. 504 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. THE EVOLUTIONARY HYPOTHESIS AS APPLIED TO THE ORIGIN OF LIFE. I assume that the majority of my audience have at least a general idea of the scope of this hypothesis, the general acceptance of which has within the last 60 years altered the whole aspect not only of biology, but of every other branch of natural science, including astronomy, geology, physics, and chemistry.*| To those who have not this knowledge I would recommend the perusal of a little book by Prof. Judd, entitled “‘The Coming of Evolution,” which has recently appeared as one of the Cambridge manuals. J know of no similar book in which the subject is as clearly and succinctly treated. Although the author nowhere expresses the opinion that the actual origin of life on the earth has arisen by evolution from nonliving matter, it is impossible to read either this or any similar exposition in which the essential unity of the evolutionary process is insisted upon without concluding that the origin of life must have been due to the same process, this process being, without exception, continuous, and admitting of no gap at any part of its course. Looking there- fore at the evolution of living matter by the light which is shed upon it from the study of the evolution of matter in general, we are led to regard it as having been produced, not by a sudden alter- ation, whether exerted by natural or supernatural agency, but by a gradual process of change from material which was lifeless, through material on the borderland between inanimate and animate, to ma- terial which has all the characteristics to which we attach the term ‘lite.’ So far from expecting a sudden leap from an inorganic, or at least an unorganized, into an organic and organized condition, from an entirely inanimate substance to a completely animate state of being, should we not rather expect a gradual procession of changes from inorganic to organic matter, through stages of gradually in- creasing complexity until material which can be termed living is attained? And in place of looking for the production ot fully formed living organisms in heremetically sealed flasks, should we not rather search Nature herself, under natural conditions, tor evidence of the existence, either in the past or in the present, of transitional forms between living and‘nonliving matter ? The difficulty, nay the impossibility, of obtaining evidence of such evolution from the past history of the globe is obvious. Both the hypothetical transitional material and the living material which 4 As Meldola insists, this general acceptance was in the first instance largely due to the writings of Herbert Spencer: ‘‘ We are now prepared for evolution in every domain. * * * Asin the case of most great gen- eralizations, thought had been moving in this direction for many years. * * * Lamarck and Bufion had suggested a definite mechanism of organic development, Kant and Laplace a principle of celestial evolu- tion, while Lyell had placed geology upon an evolutionary basis. The principle of continuity was begin- ning to be recognized in physical science. * * * It was Spencer who brought these independent lines of thought to a focus, and who was the first to make any systematic attempt to show that the law of develop- ment expressed inits widest and most abstract form was universally followed throughout cosmical processes, inorganic, organic, and superorganic.””—Op. cit., p. 14. LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 505 was originally evolved from it may, as Macallum has suggested, have taken the form of diffused ultra-microscopic particles of living substances ;! and even if they were not diffused but aggregated into masses, these masses could have been physically nothing more than colloidal watery slime which would leave no impress upon any geo- logical formation. Myriads of years may have elapsed before some sort of skeleton in the shape of calcareous or siliceous spicules began to evolve itself, and thus enabled ‘‘life” which must already have possessed a prolonged existence, to make any sort of geological record. Tt follows that in attempting to pursue the evolution of living matter to its beginning in terrestrial history we can only expect to be con- fronted with a blank wall of nescience. The problem would appear to be hopeless of ultimate solution, if we are rigidly confined to the supposition that the evolution of life has only occurred once in the past history of the globe. But are we justified in assuming that at one period only, and as it were by a fortunate and fortuitous concomitation of substance and circum- stance, living matter became evolved out of nonliving matter—life became established? Is there any valid reason to conclude that at some previous period of its history our earth was more favorably circumstanced for the production of life than it isnow?? I have vainly sought tor such reason, and if none be forthcoming the con- clusion forces itself upon us that the evolution of nonliving into living substance has happened more than once—and we can be by no means sure that it may not be happening still. It is true that up to the present there is no evidence of such hap- pening; no process of transition has hitherto been observed. But on the other hand, is it not equally true that the kind of evidence which would be of any real value in determining this question has not hitherto been looked for? We may be certain that if life is being produced from nonliving substance it will be life of a far simpler character than any that has yet been observed—in material which we shall be uncertain whether to call animate or inanimate, even if we are able to detect it at all, and which we may not be able to visualize physically even after we have become convinced of its existence.? But we can look with the mind’s eye and follow in imagination the transformation which nonliving matter may have 1 There still exist in fact forms of life which the microscope can not show us (E. A. Minchin, presidential address to Quekett Club, 1911), and germs which are capable of passing through the pores of a Chamberland filter. 2Chalmers Mitchell (Art. “ Life,”’ Encycl. Brit., eleventh edition) writes as follows: ‘‘It has been sug- gested from time to time that conditions very unlike those now existing were necessary for the first appear- ance of life, and must be repeated if living matter is to be reconstituted artificially. No support for such a view can be derived from observations of the existing conditions of life.’””’—Cf. also J. Hall-Edwards, op. cit. 8 “Spontaneous generation of life could only be perceptually demonstrated by filling in the long terms of a series between the complex forms of inorganic and the simplest forms of organic substance. Were this done, it is quite possible that we should be unable to say (especially considering the vagueness of our defi- nitions of life) where life began or ended.’’—K. Pearson, Grammar of Science, second edition, 1900, p. 350. 506 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. undergone and may still be undergoing to produce living substance. No principle of evolution is better founded than that insisted upon by Sir Charles Lyell, justly termed by Huxley ‘‘the greatest geologist of his time,” that we must interpret the past history of our globe by the present; that we must seek for an explanation of what has hap- pened by the study of what is happening; that, given similar circum- stances, what has occurred at one time will probably occur at another. The process of evolution is universal. The inorganic materials of the globe are continually undergoing transition. New chemical com- binations are constantly being formed and old ones broken up; new elements are making their appearance and old elements disappearing.’ Well may we ask ourselves why the production of living matter alone should be subject to other laws than those which have produced, and are producing the various forms of nonliving matter; why what has happened may not happen. If living matter has been evolved from lifeless in the past, we are justified in accepting the conclusion that its evolution is possible in the present and in the future. Indeed, we are not only justified in accepting this conclusion, we are forced to accept it. When or where such change from nonliving to living matter may first have occurred, when or where it may have con- tinued, when or where it may still be occurring, are problems as difficult as they are interesting, but we have no right to assume that they are insoluble. Since living matter always contains water as its most abundant constituent, and since the first living organisms recognizable as such in the geological series were aquatic, it has generally been assumed that life must first have made its appearance in the depths of the ocean.? Is it, however, certain that the assumption that life originated in the sea is correct? Is not the land surface of our globe quite as likely to have been the nidus for the evolutionary transformation of nonliving into living material as the waters which surround it? Within this soil almost any chemical transformation may occur; it is subjected much more than matters dissolved in sea water to those fluctuations of moisture, temperature, electricity, and luminosity which are potent in producing chemical changes. But whether life, in the form of a simple slimy colloid, originated in the depths of the sea or on the surface of the land, it would be equally impossible for the geologist to trace its beginnings, and were it still becoming evolved in the same situations, it would be almost as impossible for the microscopist to to follow its evolution. We are therefore not likely to obtain direct 1 See on the production of elements, W. Crookes, Address to Section B, Brit. Assoc., 1886; T. Preston, Nature, Vol. LX, p.’180; J.J. Thomson, Phil. Mag., 1897, p. 311; Norman Lockyer, op. cit., 1900; G. Darwin, Pres. Addr. Brit. Assoc., 1905. 2 For arguments in favor of the first appearance of life having been in the sea, see A. B. Macallum, “T Paleochemistry of the Ocean,” Trans. Canad. Instit., 1903-4. ee lL ee eee Ri > tata bind LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 507 evidence regarding such a transformation of nonliving into living matter in nature, even if it is occurring under our eyes. An obvious objection to the idea that the production of living matter from nonliving has happened more than once is that, had this been the case, the geological record should reveal more than one paleontological series. This objection assumes that evolution would in every case take an exactly similar course and proceed to the same goal—an assumption which is, to say the least, improbable. If, as might well be the case, in any other paleontological series than the one with which we are acquainted, the process of evolution of living beings did not proceed beyond Protista, there would be no obvious geological evidence regarding it; such evidence would only be dis- coverable by a carefully directed search made with that particular object in view.!' I would not by any means minimize the difficulties which attend the suggestion that the evolution of life may have occurred more than once or may still be happening, but, on the other hand, it must not be ignored that those which attend the assumption that the production of life has occurred once only, are equally serious. Indeed, had the idea of the possibility of a multiple evolution of living substance been first in the field, I doubt if the prevalent belief regarding a single fortuitous production of life upon the globe would have become established among biologists—so much are we liable to be influenced by the impressions we receive in scientific childhood. FURTHER COURSE OF EVOLUTION OF LIFE. Assuming the evolution of living matter to have occurred—whether once only or more frequently matters not for the moment—and in the form suggested, viz, as a mass of colloidal slime possessing the property of assimilation and therefore of growth, reproduction would follow as a matter of course, for all material of this physical nature—fluid or semifluid in character—has a tendency to undergo subdivision when its bulk exceeds a certain size. The subdivision may be into equal or nearly equal parts, or it may take the form of buds. In either case every separated part would resemble the parent in chemical and physical properties, and would equally possess the property of taking in and assimilating suitable material from its liquid environment, growing in bulk, and reproducing its like by subdivision. Omne viwum e vivo. In this way from any beginning of living material a 1 Lankester (Art. “ Protozoa,” Encycl. Brit., tenth edition) conceives that tho first protoplasm fed on the antecedent steps in its own evolution. F. J. Allen (Brit. Assoc. Reports, 1896), comes to the conclusion that living substance is probably constantly being produced, but that this fails to make itself evident owing to the substance being seized and assimilated by existing organisms. He believes that “in accounting for the first origin of life on this earth it is not necessary that, as Pfliiger assumed, the planet should have been at a former period a glowing fireball.” He “prefers to believe that the circumstances which support life would also favor its origin.’”? And elsewhere: “ Life is not an extraordinary phenomenon, not even an importation from some other sphere, but rather the actual outcome of circumstances on this earth.” 508 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. primitive form of life would spread, and would gradually people the globe. The establishment of life being once effected, all forms of organization follow under the inevitable laws of evolution. Ce n’est que le premier pas qui cottte! We can, trace in imagination the segregation of a more highly phosphorized portion of the primitive living matter, which we may now consider to have become more akin to the protoplasm of organ- isms with which we are familiar. This more phosphorized portion might not for myriads of generations take the form of a definite nucleus, but it would be composed of material having a composition and qualities similar to those of the nucleus of a cell. Prominent among these qualities is that of catalysis—the function of effecting profound chemical changes in other material in contact with it without itself undergoing permanent change. This catalytic function may have been exercised directly by the living substance or may have been carried on through the agency of the enzymes already mentioned, which are also of a colloid nature but of simpler constitution than itself, and which differ from the catalytic agents employed by the chemist in the fact that they produce their effects at a relatively low temperature. In the course of evolution special enzymes would become developed for adaptation to special conditions of life, and with the appearance of these and other modifications a process of differ- entiation of primitive living matter into individuals with definite specific characters gradually became established. We can conceive of the production in this way from originally undifferentiated living substance of simple differentiated organisms comparable to the lowest forms of Protista. But how long it may have taken to arrive at this stage we have no means of ascertaining. To judge from the evidence afforded by the evolution of higher organisms it would seem that a vast period of time would be necessary for even this amount of organization to establish itself. FORMATION OF THE NUCLEATED CELL. The next important phase in the process of evolution would be the segregation and molding of the diffused or irregularly aggregated nuclear matter into a definite nucleus around which all the chemical activity of the organism will in future be centered. Whether this change were due to a slow and gradual process of segregation or of the nature of a jump, such as nature does occasionally make, the result would be the advancement of the living organism to the con- dition of a complete nucleated cell: a material advance not only in organization but—still more important—in potentiality for future development. Life is now embodied in the cell, and every living being evolved from this will itself be either a cell or a cell aggregate. Omnis cellula e celluld. LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 509 ESTABLISHMENT OF SEXUAL DIFFERENCES. After the appearance of a nuclevs—but how long after it is im- possible to conjecture—another phenomenon appeared upon. the scene in the occasional exchange of nuclear substance between cells. Tn this manner became established the process of sexual reproduction. Such exchange in the unicellular organism might and may occur be- tween any two cells forming the species, but in the multicellular organism it became—like other functions—specialized in particular cells. The result of the exchange is rejuvenescence; associated with an increased tendency to subdivide and to produce new individuals. This is due to the introduction of a stimulating or catalytic chemical agent into the cell which is to be rejuvenated, as is proved by the ex- periments of Loeb already alluded to. It is true that the chemical material introduced into the germ cell in the ordinary process of its fertilization by the sperm cell is usually accompanied by the intro- duction of definite morphological elements which blend with others already contained within the germ cell, and it is believed that the transmission of such morphological elements of the parental nuclei is related to the transmission of parental qualities. But we must not be blind to the possibility that those transmitted qualities may be con- nected with specific chemical characters of the transmitted elements; in other words, that heredity also is one of the questions the eventual solution of which we must look to the chemist to provide. AGGREGATE LIFE. So far we have been chiefly considering life as it is found in the simplest forms of living substance, organisms for the most part entirely microscopic and neither distinctively animal nor vegetable, which have sometimes been grouped together as a separate kingdom of animated nature—that of Protista. But persons unfamiliar with the microscope are not in the habit of associating the term ‘‘life” with microscopic organisms, whether these take the form of cells or of minute portions of living substance which have not yet attained to that dignity. We most of us speak and think of life as it occurs in ourselves and other animals with which we are familiar; and as we find it in the plants around us. We recognize it in these by the possession of certain properties—movement, nutrition, growth, and reproduction. We are not aware by intuition, nor can we ascertain without the employment of the microscope, that we and all the higher living beings, whether animal or vegetable, are entirely formed of aggregates of nucleated cells, each microscopic and each possessing its own life. Nor could we suspect by intuition that what we term our life is not a single indivisible property, capable of being blown out with a puff like the flame of a candle; but is the aggregate of the 510 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. lives of many millions of living cells of which the body is composed. It is but a short while ago that this cell constitution was discovered: it occurred within the lifetime, even within the memory, of some who are still with us. What a marvelous distance we have traveled since then in the path of knowledge of living organisms! The strides which were made in the advance of the mechanical sciences during the nineteenth century, which are generally considered to mark that century as an age of unexampled progress, are as nothing in com- parison with those made in the domain of biology, and their interest is entirely dwarfed by that which is aroused by the facts relating to the phenomena of life which have accumulated within the same period. And not the least remarkable of these facts is the discovery of the cell structure of plants and animals. EVOLUTION OF THE CELL AGGREGATE. Let us consider how cell aggregates came to be evolved from organ- isms consisting of single cells. Two methods are possible, viz: (1) The adhesion of a number of originally separate individuals; (2) the subdivision of a single individual without the products of its sub- division breaking loose from one another. No doubt this last is the manner whereby the cell aggregate was originally formed, since it is that by which it is still produced, and we know that the life history of the individual is an epitome of that of the species. Such aggre- gates were in the beginning solid; the cells in contact with one another and even in continuity; subsequently a space or cavity became formed in the interior of the mass, which was thus converted into a hollow sphere. All the cells of the aggregate were at first perfectly similar in structure and in function; there was no subdivision of labor. All would take part in effecting locomotion; all would receive stimuli from outside; all would take in and digest nutrient matter, which would then be passed into the cavity of the sphere to serve as a common store of nourishment. Such organisms are still found, and constitute the lowest types of Metazoa. Later one part of the hollow sphere became dimpled to form a cup; the cavity of the sphere became correspondingly altered in shape. With this change in struc- ture differentiation of function between the cells covering the outside and those lining the inside of the cup made its appearance. Those on the outside subserved locomotor functions and received and trans- mitted from cell to cell stimuli, physical or chemical, received by the organism; while those on the inside, being freed from such functions, tended to specialize in the direction of the inception and digestion of nutrient material, which, passing from them into the cavity of the invaginated sphere, served for the nourishment of all the cells com- posing the organism. The further course of evolution produced many LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 511 changes of form and ever-increasing complexity of the cavity thus | produced by simple invagination. Some of the cell aggregates settled down to a sedentary life, becoming plantlike in appearance and to some extent in habit. Such organisms, complex in form but simple in structure, are the sponges. Their several parts are not, as in the higher Metazoa, closely interdependent; the destruction of any one part, however extensive, does not either immediately or ultimately involve death of the rest; all parts function separately, although doubtless mutually benefiting by their conjunction, if only by slow diffusion of nutrient fluid throughout the mass. There is already some differentiation in these organisms, but the absence of a nervous system prevents any general coordination, and the individual cells are largely independent of one another. Our own life, like that of all the higher animals, is an aggregate life; the life of the whole is the life of the individual cells. The life of some of these cells can be put an end to; the rest may continue to live. This is, in fact, happening every moment of our lives. The cells which cover the surface of our body, which form the scarf skin and the hair and nails, are constantly dying and the dead cells are rubbed off or cut away, their place being taken by others supplied from living layers beneath. But the death of these cells does not affect the vitality of the body as a whole. They serve merely as a protection or an ornamental covering, but are otherwise not material to our existence. On the other hand, if a few cells, such as those nerve cells under the influence of which respiration is carried on, are destroyed or injured, within a minute or two the whole living machine comes to a standstill, so that to the bystander the patient is dead; even the doctor will pronounce life to be extinct. But this pro- nouncement is correct only in a special sense. What has happened is that, owing to the cessation of respiration, the supply of oxygen to the tissues is cut off. And since the manifestations of life cease without this supply, the animal or patient appears to be dead. If, however, within a short period we supply the needed oxygen to the tissues requiring it, all the manifestations of life reappear. Tt is only some cells which lose their vitality at the moment of so-called “‘general death.’”’ Many cells of the body retain their indi- vidual life under suitable circumstances long after the rest of the body is dead. Notable among these are muscle cells. McWilliams showed that the muscle cells of the blood vessels give indications of life sev- eral days after an animal has been killed. The muscle cells of the heart in mammals have been revived and caused to beat regularly and strongly mary hours after apparent death. In man this result has been obtained as many as 18 hours after life has been pronounced extinct (Kuliabko); in animals after days have elapsed. Waller has shown that indications of life can be elicited from various tissues many 512 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. hours and even days after general death. Sherrington observed the white corpuscles of the blood to be active when kept in a suitable nutrient fluid weeks after removal from the blood vessels. A French histologist, Jolly, has found that the white corpuscles of the frog, if kept in a cool place and under suitable conditions, show at the end of a year all the ordinary manifestations of life. Carrell and Burrows have observed activity and growth to continue for long periods in the isolated cells of a number of tissues and organs kept under observation in a suitable medium. Carrell has succeeded in substituting entire organs obtained after death from one animal for those of another of the same species, and has thereby opened up a field of surgical treat- ment the limits of which can not yet he descried. It is a well- established fact that any part of the body can be maintained alive for hours isolated from the rest if perfused with serum (Kronecker, frog heart), or with an oxygenated solution of salts in certain pro- portions (Ringer). Such revival and prolongation of the life of sep- arated organs is an ordinary procedure in laboratories of physiology. Like all the other instances enumerated, it is based on the fact that the individual cells of an organ have a life of their own which is largely independent, so that they will continue in suitable circum- stances to live, although the rest of the body to which they belonged may be dead. But some cells, and the organs which are formed of them, are more necessary to maintain the life of the aggregate than others, on account of the nature of the functions which have become specialized in them. This is the case with the nerve cells of the respiratory center, since they preside over the movements which are necessary to effect oxy- genation of the blood. It is also true for the cells which compose the heart, since this serves to pump oxygenated blood to all other cells of the body; without such blood most cells soon cease to live. Hence we examine respiration and heart to determine if life is present; when one or both of these are at a standstill we know that life can not be maintained. These are not the only organs necessary for the maintenance of life, but the loss of others can be borne longer, since the functions which they subserve, although useful or even essential to the organism, can be dispensed with for a time. The life of some cells is therefore more, of others less, necessary for maintaining the life of the rest. On the other hand, the cells composing certain organs have in the course of evolution ceased to be necessary, and their con- tinued existence may even be harmful. Wiedersheim has enumer- ated more than a hundred of these organs in the human body. Doubt- less nature is doing her best to get rid of them for us, and our descend- ants will some day have ceased to possess a vermiform appendix or a pharyngeal tonsil; until that epoch arrives we must rely for their removal on the more rapid methods of surgery. LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 518 MAINTENANCE OF LIFE OF CELL AGGREGATE IN HIGHER ANIMALS. We have seen that in the simplest multicellular organisms, where one cell of the aggregate differs but little from another, the condi- tions for the maintenance of the life of the whole are nearly as simple as those for individual cells. But the life of a cell aggregate such as composes the bodies of the higher animals is maintained not only by the conditions for the maintenance of the life of the individual cell being kept favorable, but also by the coordination of the varied activities of the cells which form the aggregate. Whereas in the lowest Metazoa all cells of the aggregate are alike in structure and function and perform and share everything in common, in higher animals (and for that matter in the higher plants also) the cells have become specialized, and each is only adapted for the performance of a particular function. Thus the cells of the gastric glands are only adapted for the secretion of gastric Juice, the cells of the villi for the absorption of digested matters from the intestine, the cells of the kidney for the removal of waste products and superfluous water from the blood, those of the heart for pumping blood through the vessels. Each of these cells has its individual life and performs its individual functions. But unless there were some sort of cooperation and sub- ordination to the needs of the body generally, there would be some- times too little, sometimes too much, gastric juice secreted; some- times too tardy, sometimes too rapid, an absorption from the intestine; sometimes too little, sometimes too much, blood pumped into the arteries, and so on. As the result of such lack of cooperation the life of the whole would cease to be normal and would eventually cease to be maintained. We have already seen what are the conditions which are favorable for the maintenance of life of the individual cell, no matter where situated. The principal condition is that it must be bathed by a nutrient fluid of suitable and constant composition. In higher ani- mals this fluid is the lymph, which bathes the tissue elements and is itself constantly supplied with fresh nutriment and oxygen by the blood. Some tissue cells are directly bathed by blood; and in inver- tebrates, in which there is no special system of lymph vessels, all the tissues are thus nourished. All cells both take from and give to the blood, but not the same materials or to an equal extent. Some, such as the absorbing cells of the villi, almost exclusively give; others, such as the cells of the renal tubules, almost exclusively take. Nevertheless, the resultant of all the give and take throughout the body serves to maintain the composition of the blood constant under all circumstances. In this way the first condition of the maintenance of the life of the aggregate is fulfilled by insuring that the life of the individual cells composing it is kept normal. 514 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The second essential condition for the maintenance of life of the cell aggregate is the coordination of its parts and the due regulation of their activity, so that they may work together for the benefit of the whole. In the animal body this is effected in two ways: First, through the nervous system; and, second, by the action of specific chemical substances which are formed in certain organs and carried by the blood to other parts of the body, the cells of which they excite to activity. These substances have received the general designation of “hormones” (6pndw, to stir up), a term introduced by Prof, Starling. Their action, and indeed their very existence, has only been recognized of late years, although the part which they play in the physiology of animals appears to be only second in importance to that of the nervous system itself; indeed, maintenance of life may become impossible in the absence of certain of these hormones. NERVOUS SYSTEM IN MAINTENANCE OF AGGREGATE LIFE. Before we consider the manner in which the nervous system serves to coordinate the life of the cell aggregate, let us see how it has become evolved. The first step in the process was taken when certain of the cells of the external layer became specially sensitive to stimuli from outside, whether caused by mechanical impressions (tactile and auditory stimuli) or impressions of light and darkness (visual stimuli) or chemical impressions. The effects of such impressions were prob- ably at first simply communicated to adjacent cells and spread from cell to cell throughout the mass. An advance was made when the more impressionable cells threw out branching feelers amongst the other cells of the organism. Such feelers would convey the effects of stimuli with greater rapidity and directness to distant parts. They may at first have been retractile, in this respect resembling the long pseudopodia of certain Rhizopoda. When they became fixed they would be potential nerve fibers and would represent the beginning of a nervous system. Even yet (as Ross Harrison has shown), in the course of development of nerve fibers, each fiber makes its appear- ance as an amceboid cell process which is at first retractile, but gradually grows into the position it is eventually to occupy and in which it will become fixed. In the further course of evolution a certain number of these specialized cells of the external layer sank below the general surface, partly perhaps for protection, partly for better nutrition, they became nerve cells. They remained connected with the surface by a prolongation which became an afferent or sensory nerve fiber, and through its termination between the cells of the general surface con- tinued to receive the effects of external impressions; on the other LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 515 hand, they continued to transmit these impressions to other, more distant cells by their efferent prolongations. In the further course of evolution the nervous system thus laid down became differentiated into distinct afferent, efferent, and intermediary portions. Once established, such a nervous system, however simple, must dominate the organism, since it would furnish a mechanism whereby the indi- vidual cells would work together more effectually for the mutual benefit of the whole. It is the development of the nervous system, although not pro- ceeding in all classes along exactly the same line, which is the most, prominent feature of the evolution of the Metazoa. By and through it all impressions reaching the organism from the outside are trans- lated into contraction or some other form of cell activity. Its for- mation has been the means of causing the complete divergence of the world of animals from the world of plants, none of which possess any trace of a nervous system. Plants react, it is true, to external impressions, and these impressions produce profound changes and even comparatively rapid and energetic movements in parts distant from the point of application of the stimulus—as in the well-known instance of the sensitive plant. But the impressions are in all cases propagated directly from cell to cell—not through the agency of nerve fibers; and in the absence of anything corresponding to a nervous system it is not possible to suppose that any plant can ever acquire the least glimmer of intelligence. In animals, on the other hand, from a slight original modification of certain cells has directly proceeded in the course of evolution the elaborate structure of the nervous system with all its varied and complex functions, which reach their culmination in the workings of the human intellect. “What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like agod!’ But lest he be elated with his psychical achievements, let him remember that they are but the result of the acquisition by a few cells in a remote ancestor of a slightly greater tendency to react to an external stimulus, so that these cells were brought into closer touch with the outer world; while on the other hand, by extending beyond the cir- cumscribed area to which their neighbors remained restricted, they gradually acquired a dominating influence over the rest. These dominating cells became nerve cells; and now not only furnish the means for transmission of impressions from one part of the organism to another, but in the progress of time have become the seat of perception and conscious sensation, of the formation and association of ideas, of memory, of volition, and all the manifestations of the mind, 516 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. REGULATION OF MOVEMENTS BY NERVOUS SYSTEM—VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. The most conspicuous part played by the nervous system in the phenomena of life is that which produces and regulates the genera] movements of the body—movements brought about by the so-called voluntary muscles. These movements are actually the result of impressions imparted to sensory or afferent nerves at the periphery, e. g., in the skin or in the several organs of special sense; the effect of these impressions may not be immediate, but can be stored for an indefinite time in certain cells of the nervous system. The regu- lation of movements—whether they occur instantly after reception of the peripheral impression or result after a certain lapse of time; whether they are accompanied by conscious sensation or are of a purely reflex and unconscious character—is an intricate process, and the conditions of their coordination are of a complex nature, involving not merely the causation and contraction of certain muscles, but also the prevention of the contraction of others. For our present knowi- edge of these conditions we are largely indebted to the researches of , Prof. Sherrington. INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS—EFFECTS OF EMOTIONS. A less conspicuous but no less important part played by the nervous system is that by which the contractions of involuntary muscles are regulated. Under normal circumstances these are always inde- pendent of consciousness, but their regulation is brought about in much the same way as is that of the contractions of voluntary muscles, viz, as the result of impressions received at the periphery. These are transmitted by afferent fibers to the central nervous system, and from the latter other impulses are sent down, mostly along the nerves of the sympathetic or autonomic system of nerves, which either stimulate or prevent contraction of the involuntary muscles. Many involuntary muscles have a natural tendency to continuous or rhythmic contraction, which is quite independent of the central nervous system. In this case the effect of impulses received from the latter is merely to increase or diminish the amount of such contraction. An example of this double effect is observed in con- nection with the heart, which, although it can contract regularly and rhythmically when cut off from the nervous system and even if removed from the body, is normally stimulated to increased activity by impulses coming from the central nervous system through the sympathetic, or to diminished activity by others coming through the vagus. It is due to the readiness by which the action of the heart is influenced in these opposite ways by the spread of impulses generated during the nerve storms which we term ‘‘emotions”’ that in the LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 517 language of poetry, and even of every day, the word “‘ heart’ has become synonymous with the emotions themselves. The involuntary muscle of the arteries has its action similarly bal- anced. When its contraction is increased the size of the vessels is lessened and they deliver less blood; the parts they supply accord- ingly become pale in color. On the other hand, when the contraction is diminished the vessels enlarge and deliver more blood; the parts which they supply become correspondingly ruddy. These changes in the arteries, like the effects upon the heart, may also be produced under the influence of emotions. Thus ‘‘ blushing ”’ is a purely phys- iological phenomenon due to diminished action of the muscular tissue of the arteries, whilst the pallor produced by fright is caused by an increased contraction of that tissue. Apart, however, from these conspicuous effects, there is constantly proceeding a less apparent but not less important balancing action between the two sets of nerve fibers distributed to heart and blood vessels, which are influenced in one direction or another by every sensation which we experience, and even by impressions of which we may be wholly unconscious, such as those which occur during sleep or anesthesia, or which affect our otherwise insensitive internal organs. PART Ors) OF SECRETION AND BODY TEMPERATURE. A further instance of nerve regulation is seen in secreting glands. Not all glands are thus reesalekeed at least not directly; but in those which are the effects are piricing, Their regulation is of the same general nature as that exercised upon involuntary muscle, but it influences the chemical activities of the gland cells and the out- pouring of secretion from them. By means of this regulation a secre- tion can be produced or arrested, increased or diminished. As with muscle, a suitable balance is in this way maintained, and the activity of the glands is adapted to the requirements of the organism. Most of the digestive glands are thus influenced, as are the skin glands which secrete sweat. And by the action of the nervous system upon the skin glands, together with its effect in increasing or diminishing the blood supply to the cutaneous blood vessels, the temperature of our blood is regulated and is kept at the point best suited for mainte- nance of the lfe and activity of the tissues. EFFECTS OF EMOTIONS ON SECRETION. The action of the nervous system upon the secretion of glands is strikingly exemplified, as in the case of its action upon the heart and blood vessels by the effects of the emotions. Thus an emotion of one kind, such as the anticipation of food, will cause saliva to flow—‘‘the mouth to water;’? whereas an emotion of another kind, such as fear 85360°—sM 1912 518 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. or anxiety, will stop the secretion, causing the ‘‘tongue to cleave unto the roof of the mouth,” rendering speech difficult or impossible. Such arrest of the salivary secretion also makes the swallowing of dry food difficult. Advantage of this fact is taken in the ‘‘ordeal by rice’? which used to be employed in the East for the detection of criminals. REGULATION BY CHEMICAL AGENTS. The activities of the cells constituting our bodies are controlled, as already mentioned, in another way than through the nervous system, viz, by chemical agents (hormones) circulating in the blood. Many of these are produced by special glandular organs, known as internally secreting glands. The ordinary secreting glands pour their secretions on the exterior of the body or on a surface communicating with the exterior; the internally secreting glands pass the materials which they produce directly into the blood. In this fluid the hormones are carried to distant organs. Their influence upon an organ may be essential to the proper performance of its functions or may be merely ancillary to it. In the former case removal of the internally secreting gland which produces the hormone, or its destruction by disease, may prove fatal to the organism. This is the case with the suprarenal capsules, small glands which are adjacent to the kidneys, although having no physiological connection with these organs. A Guy’s physician, Dr. Addison, in the middle of the last century showed that a certain affection, almost always fatal, simce known by his name, is associated with disease of the suprarenal capsules. A short time after this observation a French physiologist, Brown-Séquard, found that animals from which the suprarenal capsules are removed rarely sur- vive the operation for more than a few days. In the concluding dec- ade of the last century interest in these bodies was revived by the dis- covery that they are constantly yielding to the blood a chemical agent (or hormone) which stimulates the contractions of the heart and arteries and assists in the promotion of every action which is brought about through the sympathetic nervous system (Langley). In this manner the importance of their integrity has been explained, although we have still much to learn regarding their functions. THYROID AND PARATHYROIDS. Another instance of an internally secreting gland which is essential to life, or at least to its maintenance in a normal condition, is the thy- roid. The association of imperfect development or disease of the thyroid with disorders of nutrition and inactivity of the nervous sys- tem is well ascertained. The form of idiocy known as cretinism and the affection termed ‘‘ myxcedema”’ are both associated with deficiency of its secretion; somewhat similar conditions to these are produced by the surgical removal of the gland. The symptoms are alleviated LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 519 or cured by the administration of its juice. On the other hand, en- largement of the thyroid, accompanied by increase of its secretion, produced symptoms of nervous excitation, and similar symptoms are caused by excessive administration of the glandular substance by the mouth. From these observations it is inferred that the juice con- tains hormones which help to regulate the nutrition of the body and serve to stimulate the nervous system, for the higher functions of which they appear to be essential. To quote M. Gley, to whose re- searches we owe much of our knowledge regarding the functions of this organ, ‘‘La genése et l’exercice des plus hautes facultés de homme sont conditionnés par l’action purement chimique d’un pro- duit de sécrétion. Que les psychologues méditent ces faits.” The case of the parathyroid glandules is still more remarkable. These organs were discovered by Sandstrém in 1880. They are four minute bodies, each no larger than a pin’s head, embedded in the thyroid. Small as they are, their internal secretion possesses hor- mones which exert a powerful influence upon the nervous system. If they ue oe removed, a complex of symptoms, technically known as ‘‘tetany,’’ is liable to occur, which is always serious and may be fatal. Like the hormones of the thyroid itself, therefore, those of the parathyroids produce effects upon the nervous system, to which they are carried by the blood, although the effects are of a different kind. PITUITARY GLAND. Another internally secreting gland which has evoked considerable interest during the last few years is the pituitary body. ‘This is a small structure no larger than a cob nut attached to the base of the brain. It is mainly composed of glandular cells. Its removal has been found (by most observers) to be fatal—often within two or three days. Its hypertrophy, when occurring during the general crowth of the body, is attended by an undue development of the skeleton, so that the stature tends to assume gigantic proportions. When the hypertrophy occurs after growth is completed, the extremi- ties, viz, the hands and feet and the bones of the face, are mainly affected; hence the condition has been termed ‘‘acromegaly”’ (en- largement of extremities). The association of this condition with affections of the pituitary was pointed out in 1885 by a distinguished French physician, Dr. Pierre Marie. Both '‘giants”’ and ‘‘acromeg- alists” are almost invariably found to have an enlarged pituitary. The enlargement is generally confined to one part—the anterior lobe~-and we conclude that this produces hormones which stimulate the growth of the body generally and of the skeleton in particular. The remainder of the pituitary is different in structure from the an- terior lobe and has a different function. From it hormones can be extracted which, like those of the suprarenal capsule, although not 520 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. exactly in the same manner, influence the contraction of the heart and arteries. Its extracts are also instrumental in promoting the secretion of certain glands. When injected into the blood they cause a free secretion of water from the kidneys and of milk from the mam- mary glands, neither of which organs are directly influenced (as most other glands are) through the nervous system. “Doubtless under natural conditions these organs are stimulated to activity by hormones which are produced in the pituitary and which pass from this into the blood. The internally secreting glands which have been mentioned (thy- roid, parathyroid, suprarenal, pituitary) have, so far as is known, no other function than that of producing chemical substances of this character for the influencing of other organs, to which they are con- veyed by the blood. It is interesting to observe that these glands are all of very small size, none being larger than a walnut, and some— the parathyroids—almost microscopic. In spite of this, they are essential to the proper maintenance of the life of the body, and the total removal of any of them by disease or operation is in most cases speedily fatal. PANCREAS. There are, however, organs in the body yielding internal secretions to the blood in the shape of hormones, but exercising at the same time other functions. Astriking instance is furnished by the pancreas, the secretion of which is the most important of the digestive juices. This—the pancreatic juice—forms the external secretion of the gland, and is poured into the intestine, where its action upon the food as it passes out from the stomach has long been recognized. It was, how- ever, discovered in 1889 by Von Mering and Minkowski that the pan- creas also furnishes an internal secretion, containing a hormone which is passed from the pancreas into the blood, by which it is carried first to the liver and afterwards to the body generally. This hormone is essential to the proper utilization of carbohydrates in the organism. It is well known that the carbohydrates of the food are converted into grape sugar and circulate in this form in the blood, which always contains a certain amount; the blood conveys it to all the cells of the body, and they utilize it as fuel. If, owing to disease of the pancreas or as the result of its removal by surgical procedure, its internal secre- tion is not available, sugar is no longer properly utilized by the cells of the body and tends to accumulate in the blood; from the blood the excess passes off by the kidneys, producing diabetes. DUODENUM. Another instance of an internal secretion furnished by an organ which is devoted largely to other functions is the ‘‘prosecretin”’ found in the cells lining the duodenum. When the acid gastric juice LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 521 comes into contact with these cells it converts their prosecretin into “secretin.”” This is a hormone which is passed into the blood and circulates with that fluid. It has a specific effect on the externally secreting cells of the pancreas and causes the rapid outpouring of pancreatic juice into the intestine. This effect is similar to that of the hormones of the pituitary body upon the cells of the kidney and mam- mary gland. It was discovered by Bayliss and Starling. INTERNAL SECRETIONS OF REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS. The reproductive glands furnish in many respects the most interest- ing example of organs which—besides their ordinary products, the germ and sperm cells (ova and spermatozoa)—form hormones which circulate in the blood and effect changes in cells of distant parts of the body. It is through these hormones that the secondary sexual char- acters, such as the comb and tail of the cock, the mane of the lion, the horns of the stag, the beard and enlarged larynx of a man, are pro- duced as well as the many differences in form and structure of the body which are characteristic of the sexes. The dependence of these so-called secondary sexual characters upon the state of develop- ment of the reproductive organs has been recognized from time im- memorial, but has usually been ascribed to influences produced through the nervous system, and it is only in recent years that the changes have been shown to be brought about by the agency of in- ternal secretions and hormones, passed from the reproductive glands into the circulating blood. CHEMICAL NATURE OF HORMONES. It has been possible in only one or two instances to prepare and isolate the hormones of the internal secretions in a sufficient condition of purity to subject them to analysis, but enough is known about them to indicate that they are organic bodies of a not very complex nature, far simpler than proteins and even than enzymes. Those which have been studied are all dialysable, are readily soluble in water, but insoluble in alcohol, and are not destroyed by boiling. One at least—that of the medulla of the suprarenal capsule—has becn prepared synthetically, and when their exact chemical nature has been somewhat better elucidated it will probably not be difficult to obtain others in the same way. From the above it is clear that not only is a coordination through the nervous system necessary in order that life shall be maintained in a normal condition, but a chemical coordination is no less essential. These may be independent of one another; but on the other hand they may react upon one another. For it can be shown that the production of some at least of the hormones is under the influence of 1 The evidence is to be found in F. H. A. Marshall, The Physiology of Reproduction, 1911. 522 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. the nervous system (Biedl, Asher, Elliott); whilst, as we have seen, some of the functions of the nervous system are dependent upon hormones. PROTECTIVE CHEMICAL MECHANISMS. Time will not permit me to refer in any but the briefest manner to the protective mechanisms which the cell aggregate has evolved for its defense against disease, especially disease produced by parasitic microorganisms. These, which with few exceptions are unicellular, are without doubt the most formidable enemies which the multi- cellular Metazoa, to which all the higher animal organisms belong, have to contend against. To such microorganisms are due inter alia all diseases which are liable to become epidemic, such as anthrax and rinderpest in cattle, distemper in dogs and cats, smallpox, scarlet fever, measles, and sleeping sickness in man. The advances of modern medicine have shown that the symptoms of these diseases— the disturbances of nutrition, the temperature, the lassitude or excitement, and other nervous disturbances—are the effects of chemical poisons (toxins) produced by the microorganisms and acting deleteriously upon the tissues of the body. The tissues, on the other hand, endeavor to counteract these effects by producing other chemical substances destructive to the microorganisms or antagonis- tic to their action: these are known as antibodies. Sometimes the protection takes the form of a subtle alteration in the living sub- stance of the cells which renders them for a long time, or even per- manently, insusceptible Gmmune) to the action of the poison. Some- times certain cells of the body, such as the white corpuscles of the blood, eat the invading microorganisms and destroy them bodily by the action of chemical agents within their protoplasm. The result of an illness thus depends upon the result of the struggle between these opposing forees—the microorganisms on the one hand and the cells of the body on the other—both of which fight with chemical weapons. If the cells of the body do not succeed in destroying the invading organisms, it is certain that the invaders will in the long run destroy them, for in this combat no quarter is given. Fortunately we have been able, by the aid of animal experimentation, to acquire some knowledge of the manner in which we are attacked by microorganisms and of the methods which the cells of our body adopt to repel the attack, and the knowledge is now extensively utilized to assist our defense. For this purpose protective serums or antitoxins, which have been formed in the blood of other animals, are employed to supplement the action of those which our own cells produce. It is not too much to assert that the knowledge of the parasitic origin of so many diseases and of the chemical agents which on the one hand cause, and on the other combat, their symptoms, has transformed medicine from a mere art practiced empirically into a real science LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 523 based upon experiment. The transformation has opened out an illimitable vista of possibilities in the direction not only of cure, but, more important still, of prevention. It has taken place within the memory of most of us who are here present. And only last February the world was mourning the death of one of the greatest of its bene- factors—a former president of this association '—who, by applying this knowledge to the practice of surgery, was instrumental, even in his own lifetime, in saving more lives than were destroyed in all the bloody wars of the nineteenth century! SENESCENCE AND DEATH. The question has been debated whether, if all accidental modes of destruction of the life of the cells could be eliminated, there would remain a possibility of individual cell life, and even of aggregate cell life, continuing indefinitely; in other words, Are the phenomena of senescence and death a natural and necessary sequence to the exist- ence of life? To most of my audience it will appear that the subject is not open to debate. But some physiologists (e. g., Metchnikoff) hold that the condition of senescence is itself abnormal; that old age is a form of disease or is due to disease, and, theoretically at least, is capable of being eliminated. We have already seen that individual cell life, such as that of the white blood corpuscles and of the cells of many tissues, can under suitable conditions be prolonged for days or weeks or months after general death. Unicellular organisms kept under suitable conditions of nutrition have been observed to carry on their functions normally for prolonged periods and to show no degen- eration such as would accompany senescence. They give rise by division to others of the same kind, which also, under favorable conditions, continue to live, to all appearance indefinitely. But these instances, although they indicate that in the simplest forms of organization existence may be greatly extended without signs of decay, do not furnish conclusive evidence of indefinite prolongation of life. Most of the cells which constitute the body, after a period of growth and activity, sometimes more, sometimes less prolonged, eventually undergo atrophy and cease to perform satisfactorily the functions which are allotted to them. And when we consider the body as a whole, we find that in every case the life of the aggregate consists of a definite cycle of changes which, after passing through the stages of growth and maturity, always leads to senescence, and finally terminates in death. The only exception is in the repro- ductive cells, in which the processes of maturation and fertilization result in rejuvenescence, so that instead of the usual downward change toward senescence, the fertilized ovum obtains a new lease of life, which is carried on into the new-formed organism. The latter 1 Lord Lister was president at Liverpool in 1896, 524 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. again itself ultimately forms reproductive cells, and thus the life of the species is continued. It is only in the sense of its propagation in this way from one generation to another that we can speak of the indefinite continuance of life; we can only be immortal through our descendants! AVERAGE DURATION OF LIFE AND POSSIBILITY OF ITS PROLONGATION. The individuals of every species of animal appear to have an aver- age duration of existence.1. Some species are known the individuals of which live only for a few hours, whilst others survive for a hundred years.?- In man himself the average length of life would probably be greater than the three-score and ten years allotted to him by the Psalmist if we could eliminate the results of disease and accident; when these results are included it falls far short of that period. If the terms of life given in the purely mythological part of the Old Testament were credible, man would in the early stages of his history have possessed a remarkable power of resisting age and disease. But, although many here present were brought up to believe in their literal veracity, such records are no longer accepted even by the most orthodox of theologians, and the nine hundred odd years with which Adam and his immediate descendants are credited, culmi- nating in the 969 of Methuselah, have been relegated, with the account of Creation and the Deluge, to their proper position in lit- erature. When we come to the Hebrew Patriarchs, we notice a considerable diminution to have taken place in what the insurance officers term the ‘‘expectation of life.”” Abraham is described as having lived only to 175 years, Joseph and Joshua to 110, Moses to 120; even at that age ‘‘his eye was not dim nor his natural force abated.”” We can not say that under ideal conditions all these terms are impossible; indeed, Metchnikoff is disposed to regard them as probable; for great ages are still occasionally recorded, although it is doubtful if any as considerable as these are ever substantiated. That the expectation of life was better then than now would be in- ferred from the apologetic tone adopted by Jacob when questioned by Pharaoh as to his age: ‘‘The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years; few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.” David, to whom, before the advent of the modern statistician, we owe the idea that 70 years is to be regarded as the normal period of life,? The subject is diseussed by Ray Lankester in an early work, On Comparative Longevity in Man and Ani- = ae Gira regular periods of longevity of different species of animals furnishes a strong argu- ment against the theory that the decay of old age is an accidental phenomenon, comparable with disease. 3 The expectation of life of a healthy man of 50 is still reckoned at about 20 years. ——— LIFE: ITS NATURE, ORIGIN, AND MAINTENANCE—SCHAFER. 525 is himself merely stated to have ‘‘died in a good old age.” The periods recorded for the Kings show a considerable falling off as compared with the Patriarchs; but not a few were cut off by violent deaths, and many lived lives which were not ideal. Amongst emi- nent Greeks and Romans few very long lives are recorded, and the same is true of historical persons in medieval and modern history. It is a long life that lasts much beyond 80; three such linked together carry us far back into history. Mankind is in this respect more favored than most mammals, although a few of these surpass the period of man’s existence.! Strange that the brevity of human life should be a favorite theme of preacher and poet when the actual term of his ‘‘erring pilgrimage” is greater than that of most of his fellow creatures. ce THE END OF LIFE. The modern applications of the principles of preventive medicine and hygiene are no doubt operating to lengthen the average life. But even if the ravages of disease could be altogether eliminated, it is certain that at any rate the fixed cells of our body must even- tually grow old and ultimately cease to function; when this happens to cells which are essential to the life of the organism, general death must result. This will always remain the universal law, from which there is no escape. ‘‘All that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity.” Such natural death unaccelerated by disease—is not death by disease as unnatural as death by accident?—should be a quiet, painless phenomenon, unattended by violent change. As Dastre expresses it, ‘“The need of death should appear at the end of life, just as the need of sleep appears at the end of the day.” The change has been led gradually up to by an orderly succession of phases, and is itself the last manifestation of life. Were we all certain of a quiet passing—were we sure that there would be ‘‘no moaning of the bar when we go out to sea”’—we could anticipate the coming of death after a ripe old age without apprehension. And if ever the time shall arrive when man will have learned to regard this change as a simple physiological process, as natural as the oncoming of sleep, the ap- proach of the fatal shears will be as generally welcomed as it is now abhorred. Such a day is still distant; we can hardly say that its dawning is visible. Let us at least hope that, in the manner depicted by Direr in his well-known etching, the sunshine which science irra- diates may eventually put to flight the melancholy which hovers, batlike, over the termination of our lives, and which even the antici- pation of a future happier existence has not hitherto succeeded in dispersing. 1“Hominis e2vum czterorum animalium omnium superat preter admodum paucorum.’’—Francis Bacon, Historia vitee et mortis, 1637. THE ORIGIN OF LIFE: A 'CHEMIST’S FANTASY.! By H. E. ARMSTRONG. “Behold, the beginning of philosophy is the observation of how men contradict each other and the search whence cometh this contradiction and the censure and mistrust of bare opinion. And it is an inquiry into that which seems, whether it rightly seems; and the discovery of a certain rule, even as we have found a balance for weights and a plumb-line for straight and crooked. This is the beginning of philosophy.’’—Epricretus. ‘The presidential address delivered recently to the British Associa- tion at Dundee by Prof. Schafer and the subsequent independent discussion, at a jomt sitting of the physiological and zoological sections of the Association, of the subject considered in the president’s discourse will at least have served as a corrective to the wave of vitalism that has passed over society of late years, owing to the pervasive eloquence of Bergson and other writers who have elected to discuss the problems of life, mainly from the metaphysical and psychological points of view, with little reference to the knowledge gained by experimental inquiry. As Prof. Schifer himself remarked, the problem of the origin of life is at root a chemical problem. It is somewhat surprising, therefore, that the chemists were not invited to join in the debate at Dundee. Judging from the remarks that fell from several of the speakers, their sobering presence was by no means unnecessary. It is clear that, so long as biologists are satisfied with the modicum of chemistry which is now held to serve their purpose, they will never be able to escape from the region of vague surmise. On the Tuesday Prof. Macallum fancifully pictured the earth as at one time ‘a gigantic laboratory where there had been a play of tre- mendous forces, notably electricity, which might have produced millions of times organisms that survived but a few hours, but in which also, by a favorable conjunction of those forces, what we now call life might have come into existence.”’ I think I heard him then refer to the great stores of oil we now possess and imply that they 1 Reprinted by permission from Science Progress in the Twentieth Century, No. 26, October, 1912. Lon- don, pp. 312-329. 527 528 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. came into existence in those times. Chemists and geologists would be in agreement, I believe, that these oils were formed at a somewhat late geological epoch and that they are derived from fatty materials Jaid down as remains of organisms. Prof. Benjamin Moore, brimming over with biotic energy, after- wards told us that ‘‘something more than structure was necessary for life.” He preferred a dynamic view which embraced energy, motion, and change; * * * all the actions of the cell were concerned with the liberation of energy and its transformation into many forms. For the origin of life * * * it was necessary to start with the formation of organic bodies. The colloids, which were large aggre- gates of molecules, began to show the properties of dawning life, but it was needful also to get an energy transformer attached to the colloid. He also insisted that “‘the problem was metaphysical at the present moment, as through all the ages the process of life was going on. As soon as the colloids got under the influence of sunlight they started synthesizing organic bodies. That process was going on now.” In making such statements Prof. Moore allowed his imagination to run away with him; his assertions can not be justified. Vague, sweeping generalities are out of place in such a discussion. Unless the steps be made clear, there can be no logic in the argument. No doubt something more than structure is necessary for life. Nevertheless life is dependent on structure—just as is the activity of thesteamengine. Thesteam engine is essentially a dynamic machine; it lives only when fuel is burnt under its boiler, but the energy liberated in combustion is brought into action through the agency of a complex mechanism. And it is worth noting that by a slight extension of this mechanism the engine may be made to ‘“‘remember,”’ and even talk. Thus, if it be caused to draw a steel tape across the magnetic pole of a telephone while the drum of the instrument is being talked at, the message is taken down by the tape; if the tape be then drawn back in the reverse direction, the drum of the telephone will speak and deliver the message remembered in the tape. Surely such an analogy with life is worth considering. Of course it will be said that the engine is fashioned by an intelligence external to itself and if we suppose that life may have been self-constituted, to obtain a hearing we must discover the means of self-constitution. Sir William Tilden, in a letter to The Times (Sept. 10, 1912), after referring to the various raw materials available on the earth, remarks: I venture to think that no chemist will be prepared to suggest a process by which, from the interaction of such materials, anything approaching a substance of the nature of a proteid could be formed or, if by a complex series of changes a compound of this kind were conceivably produced, that it would present the characters of living proto- plasm. THE ORIGIN OF LIFE—ARMSTRONG. 529 He appears to deprecate discussion of the probiem, judging from the concluding sentence of his letter: Far be it from any man of science to affirm that any given set of phenomena is not a fit subject of inquiry and that there is any limit to what may be revealed in answer to systematic and well-directed investigation. In the present instance, however, it appears to me that this is not a field for the chemist nor one in which chemistry is likely to afford any assistance whatever. T agree with Sir William Tilden that Prof. Schifer’s address “leaves us exactly where we were” and that the ‘earlier part of the discourse leaves open the question as to a criterion by which living may be distinguished from nonliving matter.” But I can not accept his statement that ‘‘we have at present, therefore, no clear idea as to what life is, and therefore no clear road open to the study of the con- ditions under which it originated.” Like Prof. Schafer, I do not find myself in the least helped by the idea that life has originated elsewhere; by adopting such a con- clusion we only shift the difficulty a stage farther back. I agree, too, with Prof. Minchin in thinking that if life had reached us from other worlds it would have found our earth unprepared to receive it and would have been starved out of existence; this question of food supply has not been taken into consideration by the advocates of the hypothesis. If there be life elsewhere, on other worlds than ours, the probability is that it more or less resembles life as we know it. To judge from spectroscopic evidence, the materials of which our world consists are those which constitute the cosmos. There is but one element in which the potency of life can be said to exist—the element carbon; the complexities and variations which are met with in animate material are only possible apparently in a material of which carbon is the essential constituent. Carbon stands alone among the elements. It is the only one known to us whose atoms hang together in large numbers and can be arranged in a great variety of patterns. The peculiarities of animate matter may cer- tainly be said to be in large measure determined by the presence of carbon, though nitrogen and oxygen, of course, play an all-important part. Our peculiarities may well prove to be traceable ultimately to those of the elements of which we are built—indeed it can not well be otherwise—yet the difference must be vast between elementary material and living material. It is waste of time, I believe, to pay much attention to the argument from analogy; indeed I feel that Prof. Schifer relied too much on analogy in the earlier part of his address. As Dr. Haldane points out, “Living organisms are distinguished from everything else that we at present know by the fact that they maintain and reproduce themselves with their characteristic struc- ture and activities. Nothing resembling this phenomenon is at 530 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. present known to us in the inorganic world.’ I do not understand, however, why he goes on to say, “and if, as we may confidently hope, similar phenomena are ultimately found in what we at present call the inorganic world, our present conception of that world as a mere world of matter would be completely altered.” Of course it would, but the eventuality is one that I, as a chemist, can not contemplate as possible; far from having confident hope, I believe such discovery to be out of the question. Prof. Schafer says the contention is fallacious that growth and reproduction are properties possessed only by living bodies and refers to the growth of crystals; but in this and not a few other cases, as I have said, he carries the argument from analogy too far. The growth of crystals is a process of mere apposition of like simple units, which become assembled, time after time, in similar fashion like so many bricks; and there is no limit to crystal growth. Given proper con- ditions, large crystals inevitably increase at the expense of the smaller similar crystals present along with them in a solution; hence it is that occasionally in nature, crystals are met with of huge size. The multiplication of similar crystals is the consequence of the presence of a multiplicity of nuclei in a solution; nothing corresponding to cell division is ever observed in cases of inorganic growth. Organic growth is clearly a process of extreme complexity, one that involves the association by a variety of operations of a whole series of diverse units. It is impossible to regard demonstrations such as Leduc has given with silica and other simple colloids as in any way comparable with the phenomena of organic growth. Moreover, Loeb’s experiments are wrongly quoted by Schifer as instances of sexual reproduction. What Loeb has done has been to show that the life cycle may be started afresh by the introduction of an excitant into the ovum and has thereby shown that the process of fertilization by the spermatozoon is one in which at least two events are scored, the one being the incorporation of male elements with female elements, whereby biparental inheritance is secured, the other the introduction of an excitant (hormone) which conditions the renewal of the vital cycle of the organism; but the development is that of an incomplete being whose somatie cells lack half the normal number of chromosomes. Three years ago, in my address to Section B of the British Associa- tion at Winnipeg, I had the temerity to do what Sir Wilham Tilden says no chemist will be prepared to do, as witness the following passage: The general similarity of structure throughout organized creation may well be conditioned primarily by properties inherent in the materials of which all living things are composed—of carbon, of oxygen, of nitrogen, of hydrogen, of phosphorus, of sul- THE ORIGIN OF LIFE—ARMSTRONG. | 531 phur. At some early period, however, the possibilities became limited and directed processes became the order of the day. From that time onward the chemistry pre- vailing in organic nature became a far simpler chemistry than that of the laboratory; the possibilities were diminished, the certainties of a definite line of action were increased. How this came about it is impossible to say; mere accident may have led to it. Thus we may assume that some relatively simple asymmetric substance was produced by the fortuitous occurrence of a change under conditions such as obtain in our laboratories and that consequently the enantiomorphous isomeric forms of equa] opposite activity were produced in equal amount. We may suppose that a pool containing such material having been dried up dust of molecular fineness was dis- persed; such dust falling into other similar pools near the crystallization point may well have conditioned the separation of only one of the two isomeric forms present in the liquid. A separation having been once effected in this manner, assuming the sub- stance to be one which could influence its own formation, one form rather than the other might have been produced. An active substance thus generated and selected out might then become the origin of a series of asymmetric syntheses. How the compli- cated series of changes which constitute life may have arisen we can not even guess at present; but when we contemplate the inherent simplicity of chemical change and bear in mind that life seems but to depend on the simultaneous occurrence of a series of changes of a somewhat diverse order, it does not appear to be beyond the bounds of possibility to arrive at a broad understanding of the method of life. Nor are we likely to be misled into thinking that we can so arrange the conditions as to control and reproduce it; the series of lucky accidents which seem to be required for arrangements of such complexity to be entered upon is so infinitely great. It is permissible now, perhaps, to enter somewhat more at length into an explanation of the changes contemplated in this passage. Growth most certainly proceeds on determined lines—‘‘directive influences are the paramount influences at work in building up living tissues”? (Winnipeg address). What Prof. Schifer has not pointed out, in contrasting the growth of inorganic and of animal matter, is that nature now works on very narrow lines, making use of but little of the wealth of material primarily at her disposal. Selective influ- ences must have been at work from the earliest stages of the evolu- tion of life onward. It isin this respect, perhaps, more than any other that the inorganic differs so greatly from the organic; it is this cir- cumstance, too, more than any other which makes it so improbable that life should arise frequently de novo from simple materials not themselves the products of vital action. To give an example, the hexose, glucose—a constituent of every plant and animal—is one of 16 isomeric compounds, all represented by the formula CH,(OH). CH(OH). CH(OH). CH(OH). CH(OH). COH. Of these 16 compounds, 14 have actually been prepared in the labo- ratory, and they differ considerably in properties. Theo differences are due to the different distribution in space of the TL and OH groups relatively to the carbon atoms. The 16 compounds form 8 pairs, and as the individual members of each pair have the power of rotating 532 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. polarized light in opposite directions, though to an equal extent, they may be said to be half right-hand and half left-hand material. Two other hexose sugars isomeric with glucose occur naturally— galactose and mannose; but the three compounds all belong to the one series and all may be said to be right-hand material. Besides these three hexose sugars, plants also contain the ketose, fructose, which is isomeric with glucose and differs from it only in containing the CO group as the second instead of as the terminal member in the chain of radicles composing the molecule: CH,(OH). CH(OH). CH(OH). CH(OH). CO. CH). OH. Fructose is convertible into glucose, and vice versa. Natural fructose and glucose are both right-hand material. Nature apparently is single handed and can make and wear only right-hand gloves. It is possible to prepare such compounds in the laboratory from the simplest materials, starting from carbonic acid—CO(OH),—the compound from which the plant derives carbon. By reduction this is first converted into formaldehyde, COH,. When digested with weak alkali, this aldehyde is in part converted into fructose; the fructose that is formed, however, is not merely the form which is found in plants but a mixture of this with an equal proportion of the left-hand form. When the chemist makes gloves, he usually can not help making them in pairs for both hands. Some directive influence is clearly at work in the plant—the for- maldehyde molecules, which it undoubtedly makes use of as primary building material, in some way become so arranged that when they interact they give only the right-hand form of sugar. There ‘s reason to think, moreover, that the action takes place only in this one direc- tion—that the sugar is the only product. My own belief is that the synthesis is effected against a sugar template’! just as a brick arch is built upon a wooden template curved as the arch is to be curved. A similar argument is applicable to the albuminoid or protein mat- ters derived from animal and vegetable materials; in fact, to nearly all the natural optically active substances; these are all formed under directive influences. It is not improbable that, excepting a few which presumably are products of retrograde changes, they are all of one type—right-hand material—and apparently they stand in close genetic connection. Prof. Minchin has difficulty, he says, in understanding how the complex proteins could have arisen in nature. But the difficulty in accounting for these is no greater than that involved in accounting for the formation of the sugars. The chief difference between the two classes of compound is that whereas the sugars are composed of like simple units, the albuminoids consist of unlike simple units, 1 Proceedings of the Royal Society, 1904, vol. 73, 541. THE ORIGIN OF LIFE—-ARMSTRONG. bao chiefly the various amino-acids. The carbohydrate may be com- pared with a house built of bricks alone, the albuminoids with a house built partly of bricks and partly of stone slabs of various shapes and sizes; the latter form of construction permits of a greater variety of pattern but the same building operations are involved in the use of the two kinds of material; though the constructive units are differ- ent, in both cases, the pieces are placed in position and fixed by means of mortar in a similar way. The directive influences at work and which preside over synthetic operations in the plant and animal cell are undoubtedly the enzymes; these apparently serve as templates and either promote synthesis by dehydration or the reverse change of hydrolysis, according as the degree of concentration is varied. But how, it will be asked, could action have taken place in times prior to the existence of enzymes? What are enzymes, and how did they arise ? The activity of enzymes is comparable with that of acids and alkalies, the former especially, with the exception that enzymes act selectively; but whereas acids will hydrolyze every kind of ethereal compound and are active in proportion to their strength and the concentration of the solution in which they are operative, enzymes will act only on particular compounds; hence their special value as ‘“‘vital” agents. And the same distinction is to be made with respect to the synthetic activity of the two groups of agents. At present our knowledge of enzymes is vague; we know little of their structure. At most we can assert that they are colloid mate- rials and that in some way or other they are adaptable to the com- pounds upon which they act. The picture I form of an enzyme is that of a minute droplet of jelly to which is attached a protuberance very closely resembling if not identical with the group to which the enzyme can be affixed. A geometer caterpillar attached by its hind legs to a twig, with body raised so as to bring the mouth against a leaf on the twig, affords a rough analogy, to my thinking, of the system within which, and within which alone, an enzyme is active. In the beginning of things, carbonic acid was doubtless superabun- dant and reducing agents were not far to seek; under such conditions formaldehyde may well have been an abundant natural product. The production of fructose sugar, if not of glucose, would be prac- tically a necessary sequence to that of formaldehyde. But at this early stage, under natural conditions, gloves were always made in pairs, left-hand and right-hand in equal numbers; by chance, somewhere, something happened by which the balance was disturbed; some of the left-hand gloves were destroyed, perhaps. It is well known that if a crystal be placed in a saturated solution of its own substance, the surface molecules will attract like molecules 85360°—sm 1912——35 534 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. from the solution and the crystal will grow. It is not unlikely that a substance may exercise attraction over molecules which are its own proximate constituents—that glucose, for example, may exercise a preferential attraction over molecules of formaldehyde; if such be the case, glucose may itself serve to influence and promote the forma- tion of Blneod from formaldehyde. Granting such a possibility, if by some accident right-hand mole- cules preponderated in a solution in which the conditions were favor- able to the synthesis of new molecules, the influence of pattern would prevail and a larger proportion of right-hand material would be formed. In course of time the left-hand material would die out and only right-hand material would be present—as in the world to-day. The argument is applicable to compounds generally. Even the formation of enzymes may be accounted for. Under the influence of acid or alkali, colloid particles may well have entered into association with this or that group. But when once formed fortuitously enzymes probably would become the models or templates upon which new molecules would be formed, much after the manner of the dressmaker’s model upon which the ares bodice is fashioned. ' | But it will be said, ‘‘Granted even that simple substances can be formed in such ways, surely it is impossible to account for the production of protoplasm.” No doubt, this is difficult, especially as the thing we are asked to account for can not be defined. J am tempted here again to quote Epictetus: Whence then shall we make a beginning? If you will consider this with me, I shall say first that you must attend to the sense of words. So I do not now understand them? You do not. How then do I use them? As the unlettered use written words or as cattle use appearances; for the use is one thing and understanding another. But if you think you understand, then take my word you will and let us try ourselves whether we understand it. The word “protoplasm” means so little to most people, so much to a few. It is the convenient cloak of an appalling amount of ignorance—perhaps the scientific equivalent of the ‘Don’t fidget, child,’ addressed to the too inquiring youngster or the biological paraphrase of the older chemist’s catalytic action. Is protoplasm one or many things? A medium or a substance. In saying that, ‘Living substance or protoplasm takes the form of a colloidal solution. In this solution the colloids are associated with erystalloids which are either free in the solution or attached to the molecules of the colloids,” Prof. Schafer scarcely helps us to a defi- nition. Nor are his later suggestions much more helpful. Speak- ing of the differential septum by which living substance is usually surrounded, he says, ‘‘This film serves the purpose of an osmotic THE ORIGIN OF LIFE—ARMSTRONG. 535 membrane, permitting of exchanges by diffusion between the colloid solution constituting the protoplasm and the circumambient me- dium in which it lives. Other similar films or membranes occur in the interior of protoplasm.” One thing only is certain—that protoplasm can not be a solution or anything approaching to a solution in character; diverse struc- ture it must have, structure of infinite delicacy and complexity. Judging from his reference to the simplicity of nuclear material, it would seem that Prof. Schifer is prepared to regard protoplasm as by no means very complex. But it is inconceivable that the germ plasm, carrying within itself as it apparently does all the form- ative elements of the complete organism, should be simple in struc- ture. {ft must contain a complete series of interconnected templates from which growth can proceed. I have elsewhere stated that pro- toplasm may be pictured as made up of a large number of curls, like a judge’s wig, all in communication through some center, connected here and there perhaps also by lateral bonds of union. If such a point of view be accepted, it is possible to account for the occur- rence, in some sections, of the complex interchanges which involve work being done upon the substances there brought into interaction, the necessary energy being drawn from some other part of the com- plex where the interchanges involve a development of energy. (Winnipeg address.) My metaphorical wig as a whole may be taken as representing the racial type—the curls as corresponding to separate characters. I can imagine so complex a structure being formed by a series of fortuitous accidents in course of time, but taking into account the extraordinary fixity of natural types, so well expressed in Tennyson’s lines— So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life, it seems to me improbable that a like series of accidents should recur. It is on grounds such as these that I can not accord my sympathy to statements such as Dr. Bastian has made and that I can not accept the suggestion put forward by Prof. Schifer that life conceivably is arising de novo at the present day, let alone that it is the easy process suggested so light-heartedly by Prof. Moore. Where are the materials? Can we say that they exist anywhere ? It is useless for biologists to live in a higher empyrean of their own and to disregard the minuter details which chemical study alone can unravel; they will never be able to solve the complex problems of life or even to grasp their significance unless they pay more atten- tion to the ways in which building stones are shaped and mortar made and in which edifices are gradually reared from such materials. 536 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. I have no desire to take exception to the general trend of Prof. Schiifer’s address, but I can not help thinking that he altogether underrates the complexity of vital chemical processes; while believ- ing that, as he says, ‘‘we may fairly conclude that all changes in living substance are brought about by ordinary chemical and phy- sical forces”? and that ‘‘at the best, vitalism explains nothing,” I am in no way prepared to underrate the difficulties before us in finding satisfactory explanations of the origin of life. I see no reason to suppose that life may be originating de novo at the present time nor do I believe that we shall ever succeed in effect- ing the synthesis of living matter. With regard to Prof. Moore’s statement that all the actions of the cell are concerned with the liberation of energy and its transformation into many forms, there is nothing to show that the forms of energy that are operative during life are in any way peculiar. Energy is inherent in matter; apparently its primary form is that known to us as electrical energy; and inasmuch as Faraday’s dictum that chemi- cal affinity and electricity are forms of the same power is incontro- vertible, moreover as electricity in its passage through matter is frittered down into heat, the mechanical effects associated with life are easily accounted for. As to the origin of consciousness and of psychical phenomena generally we know nothing; at most we can assert that we are conscious of consciousness. The effects of con- sciousness may well be the outcome of simple mechanical displace- ments of molecules such as take place in the steel tape previously referred.to in its passage across a magnetic field varying in intensity. If nervous impulses are conveyed not along continuous tracts but through the agency of mterdigitating fibers, a mere alteration in the lengths of these fibers would condition a variation of the impulse; the actual conductivity of a contimuous fiber would vary also if chemical changes were to take place within its substance. It is easy to see how chemical changes occurring within a nerve or muscle cell would involve an alteration in the osmotic state, which would neces- sarily be followed by the influx or efflux of water according as the alteration involved an increase or diminution of the number of mole- cules in solution. Oscillatory hydraylic changes of this type may well be at the bottom of both nervous and muscular activity in the organism; in fact, there is every reason to believe that we are but hydraulic engines. According to Prof. Moore, the colloid shows the properties of dawn- ing life; whatever this may mean, I understand him to say that to make it live it is necessary to get an energy transformer attached to it. It is surprising how little life there is in those who live, how slowly lessons are learnt. The conditions which determine the transformations of energy were laid down generations ago by Fara- THE ORIGIN OF LIFE—-ARMSTRONG. 537 day, but are disregarded to the present day. There is little that is mysterious about them; all that is required is a proper arrangement of parts. To give an example, a lump of zinc in diluted sulphuric acid constitutes a binary system brimful of latent energy—of energy awaiting transformation but untransformable so long as the system remains binary. Oncoupling the conjoined metal and acid by means of a relatively electronegative conductor, however, interaction at once sets in, the metal attacks the acid and the acid the metal and energy is set free—primarily as electricity, secondarily as heat. Nothing can stop the transformation if the ternary system be consti- tuted. Apparently no special energy transformer is required, but merely a proper arrangement of parts. Given the proper arrangement, action is bound to take place, provided always that the system be one in which there is an overplus of energy. And here comes the rub. In the case of organisms, not a few changes take place which can only occur if energy be supplied. The assimilation of carbon by plants is a case in point. Ordinarily this is effected through the agency of sunlight; but it is clear that in some cases, as in the fermentation of sugar, for example, energy set free in a change taking place in one part of a complex molecule may serve to make up a deficiency preventing the spontaneous occurrence of a change of the reverse order in another part of the molecule. It is an important office of the protoplasmic complex apparently to ‘‘negoti- ate”? such exchange or transference of energy. With reference to Dr. Haldane’s statement that we can not express the observed facts by means of physical and chemical conceptions but must have recourse to the conception of organic unity, I am at a loss in the first place to understand what this conception is, if it be in- consistent with chemical conceptions. I am afraid the vague in- determinate phases of the philosopher make little appeal to the hard heart of the fact worshipper. My position is that while we do not attempt to account for that we do not understand or can not express clearly, all that we do understand is well within our compass to ex- plain; moreover that our power of understanding is growing every day. T do not see how Prof. Schiéfer and those of us who are with him can be said to have ignored the actual fact of the maintenance in “organic unity” of the numerous physical and chemical processes which we can distinguish within the living body. It is far from being the fact that ‘The more detailed and exact our knowledge has become of the marvelous intricacies of structure and function within the living body the more difficult or rather the more com- pletely impossible has any physico-chemical theory of nutrition and reproduction become.” Or that ‘‘the difficulty stands out in its fullest prominence in connection with the phenomena of reproduc- tion and heredity.” 538 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. To make my meaning clear, let me go back to my wig. Assuming the primordial wig to have come into existence through a series of lucky, fortuitous accidents, assisted by certain peculiarities inherent in the primary material and favored by the special conditions of the environment—wigs have ever since been made much on the pattern of the first wig though variations have taken place from time to time. Each new wig is constructed on top of an old wig and when a new wig is ready, ‘‘division” takes place and the new wig is removed to a new “cell” together with a supply of tools and materials required for wig making. According to the material available, while the gen- eral pattern is maintained intact, variations may be introduced into individual curls. But two kinds of wigs are to be thought of, simple wigs—male and female—and compound wigs, the latter being made by superposing two simple wigs after such alterations have been made in each as to permit of their superposition; obviously, when the compound wigs are separated and worn as simple wigs, the new simple wigs differ somewhat from the old though they are very like them in general character; also it will be clear that all sorts of com- binations of simple wigs may be made. Obviously my metaphorical wigs correspond to nuclei and the tools and materials used in making them to the cytoplasmic ele- ments—assuming that the nucleus is the formative element of the cell. Having thus put wigs on the green, I trust that I have met the challenge given by Dr. Haldane and that it will be obvious that even the problems of reproduction and heredity, if not those of immunity, may be dealt with from some such point of view as that I have ven- tured to state. The assertion has been made? recently that the scientific world ‘ig beginning on all sides to admit the necessity for postulating the cooperation of some ‘outside’ factor. Lodge in England, Bergson in France, and Driesch in Germany are the most conspicuous apostles of the new movement.” This is but one of the many such statements made of late. An apostle after all is but a messenger and the character of a message depends a good deal on the instruction the messenger has received, though imagination may contribute a good deal to its ultimate adorn- ment. The messages delivered to the public on such a subject are apt to be somewhat imaginary. It is clear that they can not be even an approximation to truth, when no notice is taken by those who convey them of the results achieved by the toiling workers in the distant adits of the mine of science. Philosophers must go to school and study in the purlieus of experimental science, if they desire to speak with authority on these matters. 1“Tnvolution,’”’ by Lord Ernest Hamilton. THE ORIGIN OF LIFE—ARMSTRONG.’ 539 Here again I am served by the old Greek cynic, “The beginning of philosophy, at least with those who lay hold of it as they ought, is the consciousness of their own feebleness and incapacity in respect of necessary things.’ Such sayings make us wonder at the lack of appreciation displayed by the sage of Chelsea in making Sartor say, “The ‘Enchiridion of Epictetus’ I had ever with me, often as my sole companion, and regret to mention that the nourishment it yielded was trifling.” But he too was a philosopher. After tellmg us that the cell is now defined as a vital unit con- sisting of an individual mass of the living substance protoplasm containing at least one nucleus; and that the protoplasm of an ordi- nary cell is differentiated into two distinct components—the cyto- plasm or bodyplasm and the nucleus—Prof. Minchin raises the ques- tion whether the cytoplasm or the nucleus is to be regarded as the more primitive. He can not conceive, he says, that the earliest living creature could have come into existence as a complex cell, with nucleus and cytoplasm distinct and separate; and he is forced to believe that a condition in which a living body consisted only of one form or type of living matter preceded that in which the body consisted of two or more structural components. The issue thus raised is an important one. Regarding the cell as the vital unit, as “the simplest protoplasmic organ which is capable of living alone,” in other words, capable of growing and of reproducing itself, the question I venture to put is whether life did not begin only when the cell was first constituted, whether the materials formed prior to this period, however complex, were not all incoordinated and therefore inanimate. The term ‘‘cell’’ unfortunately has had somewhat different meanings attached to it. At first, as Prof. Minchin tells us, only the limiting membrane or cell wall was thought of, the fluid or viscous contents being regarded as of secondary importance; the primary meaning, in fact, was that of a little box or capsule. It then became apparent that the fluid contents were the essential living part, the cell wall merely an adaptive product of the contained living substance or protoplasm. Consequently the cell was defined as a small mass or corpuscle of the living substance, which might either surround itself with a cell wall or remain naked and without any protective envelope. Further advance involved the recognition of a nucleus as an essential component of the cell. Ican not think of a naked mass of protoplasm, call it chromatin (stainable substance) or what you will, playing the part of an organism; at most I imagine it would function as yeast zymase functions. If it is to grow and be reproduced, the nuclear material must be shut up along with the appropriate food materials and such con- 540 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. structive appliances as are required to bring about the association of the various elements entering into the structure of the organism. The inclosure of the naked protoplasmic mass within a differential septum (cell wall) through which only the simpler food materials could gain an entry seems to me, therefore, a necessary act in the evolution of life. From this point of view, it matters little which came first—chromatin or cytoplasm. The argument put forward by Mr. Eccles in support of the con- tention that nuclear material is the more primitive, based on the preponderance of the open chain derivative arginine in the nucleus and of benzenoid derivatives, such as tyrosine in the cytoplasm, can not be regarded as valid. The difference between open and closed chain compounds is not such that chemists can regard one as more primitive than the other, except it be that the open is the first to receive attention in the textbooks; and arginine, if not the most, is one of the most complex products hitherto separated from albuminoid materials, far more so than tyrosine: Arginine HN=CCN¥° CH,. CH,. CH,. CH(NH,). COOH. Tyrosine HO. C,H,. CH». CH(NH,). COOH. Arginine probably owes its value as a nuclear material to the many points of attachment its nitrogen atoms offer—in other words, to its complexity. Prof. Minchin would restrict the term ‘‘cell’’ to organisms in which the protoplasm is differentiated into cytoplasm and nucleus definitely marked off from one another and would therefore deny the term “‘cell”’ to bacteria and their allies. But bacteria apparently consist of materials differing but little in complexity from those met with in higher organisms and they contain a variety of enzymes. The sepa- ration of the nucleus within a special differential septum would appear merely to mark it off as a separate factory within which special operations can be carried on apart from those effected in the cyto- plasm; the extrusion of nucleoli from the nucleus during the vege- tative stage is particularly significant from this point of view, especially as the nucleoli within and.without the nucleus stain dif- ferently... The differentiation of the nucleus, therefore, may be merely a mark of a higher stage of organization, but to make the distinction suggested between bacteria and other forms appears to me to be unjustifiable. From the point of view I am advocating, every organism must possess some kind of nucleus—visible or invisible; some formative center around which the various templates assemble that are active 1 See especially ‘“‘ Observations on the history and possible function of the nucleoli in the vegetative cells of various animals and plants,” by C. E. Walker and Frances M. Tozer, Quart. Journ. Exp. Physiol., 1909, 2, 187. ea THE ORIGIN OF LIFE—-ARMSTRONG. 541 in directing the growth of the organism. The cell, in other words, is the unit factory and its definition should be made independent of microscopic appearances. To conclude: All speculation as to the origin of life must savor of the academic; it can have no very definite outcome unless it be verified experimentally, and at present it seems improbable that such verification will be possible. But speculation is none the less legitimate and desirable on account of the fundamental issues to be considered. In discussing the problems of heredity, in dealing with disease, we are groping in the dark so long as we are ignorant of the precise nature of the vital processes and of the minute details of organic structure; no effort should be spared, therefore, to unravel these. The results of modern cytological inquiry are very marvelous but unsatisfactory. We need to know far more of living material, especially in the vegetative stage; the chemist has difficulty in accepting the findings of the morphologist at their face value; he can not avoid the feeling that not a few of the “structures” described may be artefacts bearing but a distant resemblance to the living forms, as structure is usually brought into evidence by staining and this can not take place until the differential septa of cells are broken down and rendered permeable; so that the staining and fixing process is one that must be attended with chemical changes, among which coagulation effects are to be reckoned. But the appearances in many cases are too definite, too wonderful, to be mere artefacts. What is now needed is the combination of the eyes of the cytologist with those of the chemist and with those of the physiologist, the collaboration of the student of external structure, and the student of function. Continued specialization can only carry us farther away from the goal we are all striving for, though vaguely, because we have no settled combined scheme of action. al ar aDeomie i ; inion elegy abibny [ Shear dit ie HOW svt “be . ; Ayr Abe : oy ay wy midcirn defen af weveAts d | *) ’ : 14S TANS SS Hee Tot keberng : Jain st theta cininonod cleaniiabupnge: ih As aaa tia SHON) hh artist Gh yeseng on aed ERs Diany HADES S: rag nek ws ide Fricke prea yer ens eser’ ar ANN ié baa ‘tlatronivaga hates eo as ecu wad crews fith Woldiaac iY bik Linge Riad f Hiey sing : S 1 paleo ao pldauieehn, | Px bli Aire aa Wis A sit $6 dseliaiise od mariane en tte Ia ea buadd th, Bold OSD One Tre % Meroe levy ATT we a) eae pes. ctHlg ¢ Utreeehy Miyy rath COPE ae me af Sarttloe eptusctier ena twe | nercotond bathe gly A} woea lerwodd toes 4 CB lieyla As yk, (DMS ah Ligh wou tye nen tw abiners inh via: Sr. MONT CHOI meter j od toguia aviladogey on) gs eleioages damoloy lqront 9 1) do 2yaiban odd Bont qeeies Fito VeSt A dose 9 62 pars ; roe Nes. ests raw , HVETS ETE TER HL RE LOR TC eas it peat S847 Et a0 ah : 4 44 fd Serene one hart yh OG ety, Bil ReaIU IG PERL Pe EEA st BLP PA Lag h arte} Moy Dua py / Ragen Arroiatorksy ons te degt ; sty Miia esi spare a hte yt scape tnd ins bah 6949-9 EVRES See Ratleye® hs) Oy Gol Leet tae exhd at bohaos wei Ty Esta banter digas cx dee SRN SO : R5AOF ae iene iat (em me ie "l,j ae ii) nals (ivy bane: doorady. wd, 1 samen te P 7 * i pai H thie Pty, « ¢ ‘ fia) ie oa FEDS, woes » Aeru & ae Ay aN tsuod linwed Poneman Des init Se seh Woltes to eaadha hs igi dal am. of tea i. a j nf peg Sees ST aT Ds st} - ite me ie Un ein Fyne hp he ant’ waht ites THE APPEARANCE OF LIFE ON WORLDS AND THE HYPOTHESIS OF ARRHENIUS.'! By ALPHONSE BERGET, Professor at the Paris Institute of Oceanography. The problem of cosmogony is one of those that has most disturbed the mind of man. No question, indeed, is more perplexing than that of finding out whence comes the earth, whence comes the sun about which it gravitates with its sister planets, toward what goal is it carried by that slow evolution that it undergoes. To this question Laplace was the first to give a scientific answer. Starting from the results of the observation of the nebule, different forms of which we can observe in the sky at different stages of their history, he formulated, by a true flash of genius, that wonderful theory that bears his name. According to his conception, an incan- descent nebula, radiating its heat gradually toward cold space, would contract as it cooled; these successive contractions would by degrees have agglomerated the constituent matter of the nebula into a “nucleus,” at first gaseous, then igneous fluid, the sun. In propor- tion as the dimensions of this revolving nucleus—the total mass of which remained the same—was diminishing, its momentum of inertia was also diminishing, its velocity of rotation was increasing, and consequently the centrifugal force was increasing at the same time. A depression was formed on the still plastic nucleus near the axis of rotation; the equator expanded and gradually a ring was detached from it, which on breaking gave birth to a new planet, by the condensing of the matter of which it was formed. This planet began to revolve around the nucleus and on itself, in the same direction as that of the rotary motion of the central nucleus. Thus must the earth have been born, thus must have been born the other planets, fragments detached from the central sun, and necessarily containing the same chemical elements. When Laplace advanced this hypothesis, certain astronomical facts that are known to-day were yet unknown, notably the inverse rotation of the satellites of distant planets. Nothing was known of the existence of new forces that modern physics has just discovered 1 Translated by permission from Biologica, Paris, 2d year, No. 13, January 15, 1912. 543 544 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. in the course of the last few years. Perhaps it is fortunate that the famous astronomer did ndt know these ‘‘new facts.” They would have destroyed the unity of the system of the universe as he saw it, and the complication introduced by instances of exception would doubtless have prevented him from formulating his hypothesis, so grand in its unaffected simplicity. To-day we know that the Laplace theory must be modified in some points. As a whole, however, it is still in force; it is a citadel which in spite of everything resists all assaults, as H. Poincaré has so well said. It is enough, therefore, to reconcile it with the new con- quests of science; that is what the illustrious physicist of Stockholm, Prof. Svante Arrhénius, has done. The Swedish scientist introduced into the theory of the evolution of worlds a second force as necessary to consider as universal gravi- tation, that is, the pressure of radiation, the conception of which is due to J. Clerk-Maxwell, and the reality of which has been demon- strated by the experiments of Lebedeff. This pressure is exerted upon every surface exposed to a radiation by the very action of this radiation; it is equivalent, in the immediate neighborhood of the solar surface, to nearly 2 milligrams a square centimeter. As the dimensions of a very small spherule of matter decrease, the importance of the surface in comparison with the mass increases at the same time. Now the attraction of gravitation is dependent on the mass, while the pressure of radiation is dependent on the extent of surface. One can readily conceive, therefore, that in the case of very tenuous particles the pressure of radiation may exceed the attractive force of gravitation; in the case of nontransparent spherules the 0.0015 of a millimeter in diameter the two forces are in equilib- rium; and if the diameter of the particle falls below this amount, the repelling force is the stronger and the particle is driven away from the radiating body. On tiny particles whose diameter would amount to as little as the 0.00016 of a millimeter, the pressure of radiation would. be ten times as great as the attracting force. These dimensions are realized in the spores of bacteria. The small mass of these micro- scopic granules increases the importance of their surface, and the resistance of the air has such force over them that this tiny mass dropped into the air would not fall a hundred meters in a year. The slightest wind carries them off into the atmosphere and may take them to the limits of our gaseous envelope, where the pressure of the air is not more than a very small fraction of a millimeter of mer- cury; that is, to an altitude of 100 kilometers. It is this pressure of radiation that Arrhénius has given a place in the formation of worlds. It drives away from the stars the fine “cosmic dust” which the constant eruptions of these incandescent stars throw out every moment; especially, it is this dust which con- ~ LIFE ON WORLDS—BERGET. 545 stitutes the coronal atmosphere of the sun. These expelled particles bear a negative electrical charge. They are going to come in contact with these cold, gaseous masses of rarified molecules, containing helium and hydrogen, called “nebule.’’ These nebule contain a very small number of molecules; hence their low temperature. When the electrically charged particles reach them, the former make the periphery luminous, and then these nebule are visible to observers on the earth; the dust which is agglomerated into meteorites, how- ever, becomes centers of condensation for these nebule. Let a dark body, such as the moon is to-day, such as the sun will be later, happen to penetrate into such surroundings in the course of its peregrinations lasting myriads of centuries, it will become still more easily a center about which nebulous matter would accumulate while it becomes heated; the nucleus becomes incandescent, a sun will be born. Finally, let two dark suns collide in the infinity of space and time; the violence of the shock is enough to volatilize their matter; the breaking of their envelopes would release the igneous matter so- long imprisoned beneath their cooled crusts; like two gigantic shells they ‘“‘explode”’ and the endothermic components that their centers contain, held under enormous pressures, set free masses of gas that escape in spiral spirts. Then the stages of which Laplace conceived can begin to follow each other, generating planets; one or two “‘nuclei”’ exist in the midst of the nebulous spheres surrounding them; we have watched the resurrection of a world. These collisions are not idle hypotheses, we witness them in the heavens each time that a new star appears, like the “‘nova Persei,” for example; we have seen a world born, but reborn from a dead world. It is a perpetual cycle that recommences in this manner, a cycle the mechanism of which has been pointed out for the first time by the brilliant genius of Arrhénius. Such is, too briefly summarized, the Swedish physicist’s principle of the theory of cosmogony. But he has not been content with explaining the evolution of “cosmic”? matter. He has asked him- self—and it is this that will interest the reader of Biologica more especially—how life could appear on a world thus created; he has tried to find out whether living germs, having left a world where they found their conditions of existence realized, can endure the long journey through intersidereal space and bring to another world the germ of life which is in themselves, becoming the starting point of a series of living beings brought slowly, by an evolution parallel to that of the planet that sustains them, to gradually increasing degrees of perfection; in a word, to “higher”’ states. Svante Arrhénius answers this question by the elegant, original, and seductive form that he has known how to give to the doctrine 546 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. of Panspermy, adapting it to the most recent advancement of modern physics. The doctrine of Panspermy is not new; Richter was the first to advance it, about 1865. Later it received the distinguished support of the illustrious English physicist, Lord Kelvin, and in Germany Helmholtz lent it the aid of his great authority. In its first form, this doctrine assumed that meteorites, fragments resulting from the collision between two dark bodies of the heavens, come in contact with a sun and bring there germs that the explosion has not had time to destroy, as, when one blows up a quarry with dynamite, certain pieces of rock may roll to the bottom of the moun- tain, remaining covered with vegetation, with living germs that have stayed intact. Under these conditions meteorites could admit of organic ‘“‘inclusions,”’ which could carry life to celestial bodies yet devoid of it. However, examination of this hypothesis in this very simple form raises objections, the principal of which is the stupendous tempera- ture to which the germs would be immediately subjected. Merely the sudden stopping of the earth in its motion, even without the intervention of a collision, would suffice to volatilize its matter as a result of the quantity of heat liberated; if, in addition, there should be a collision of two celestial masses, with the liberation of the igneous matter composing their respective nuclei, it 1s almost certain that not a living organism would escape this thermic manifestation, which would reduce them to their gaseous elements. It is, then, very difficult to admit of the conveyance of germs by meteorites considered as “fragments” from a celestial cataclysm. Arrhénius has completely modified the hypothesis of Panspermy by adapting it to the demands and achievements of modern physics. He has considered the possibility of the conveyance of germs them- selves, independently of all mineral aid, and this by bringing into play the “pressure of radiation”? of which we have spoken in the beginning of this article, when we explained in broad outline the cosmogonic hypothesis of the Swedish physicist. We have said that by direct measurement the pressure of radiation on a spherule the 0.00016 of a millimeter in diameter (or 0.16 of a micron) might be 10 times as strong as the attractive force resulting from universal gravitation. Now germs of these reduced dimensions do exist. Botanists know for a certainty that the spores of many bacteria have a diameter of 0.3 to 0.2 of a micron, and that beyond doubt there exist some even much smaller; the progress of the ultra- microscope is beginning to enable us to see these germs of the order of one-tenth of a micron in size. Let us imagine such a microorganism swept off the surface of the earth by a current of air that carries it as far as the higher atmosphere, LIFE ON WORLDS—BERGET. 547 say to the altitude of approximately a hundred kilometers. When it has reached that point it is subjected to another category of forces susceptible of acting on it; these are forces of an electrical kind. It is, indeed, at about that altitude that radiations produce polar auroras. These auroras are caused by the arrival into the atmos- phere of the earth of cosmic dust coming from the sun and driven from it by the pressure of radiation. This dust is charged negatively, and its discharge makes luminous the region of the atmosphere in which it is. Under these conditions, if a spore coming from the earth’s surface is also negatively charged by contact with the elec- trically charged dust, it may be repelled by the latter, which will drive it toward intersideral space as a result of the electrostatic repul- sion of two charges of the same sign. Calculation shows that an electrical field of 200 volts a meter is enough to produce on a spherule the 0.16 of a micron in diameter a repulsion greater than gravitation; now, the field usually observed in the atmospheric air is greater. Electrostatic repulsion of germs that have reached the higher atmos- phere is, then, not only qualitatively, but even quantitatively possible. We have our germ, then, started on its intersideral journey. Let us put aside for a time the conditions of existence and destruction that it may encounter among the stars, circumstances that we shall study ina moment. We are going to find out first of all the condi- tions of time of such a journey, effected under the influence of the pressure of radiation which acts on the germ as soon as it is at a suffi- cient distance from the earth. On its way it will be caught, in the neighborhood of a celestial body, by some larger particle of the order of size of a micron, which forms a portion of that dust scattered profusely around the solar systems. Once carried away by this particle, which, because of its greater size, is more subject to the action of attraction than to that of the repelling force, it can then penetrate into the atmosphere of the planets that it will happen to encounter. If we assume that this traveling germ has a density equal to that of water, which is obviously accurate for living germs, we find that it will need nearly 20 days for it to reach the planet Mars, 80 to reach Jupiter, 15 months to get to the distant planet of Neptune. These are only planets forming part of our own solar system. If we try to find the time necessary for this germ to reach the solar system nearest to ours, that is, the system whose central sun is the star a of the constellation of the Centaur, we will find the duration of the journey to be approximately 9,000 years. How will our germ, living at the time of its departure, act in the course of this long journey ? Interstellar space has a very low temperature; it is near the absolute zero of the physicists, which is 273° C. below the temperature 548 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. of melting ice. Arrhénius estimates the temperature of nebular space at —220° (53° absolute), taking physical observations as a basis. The germ that is traveling across this space under the impulse of the pressure of radiation must, then, endure for months, years, or even centuries, a temperature of 220° C. below zero; what is going to be the result from the viewpoint of its vitality, and more than all, from the point of view of its germinative power ? Modern physicists and physiologists answer this question victo- riously. In the laboratory of the Jenner Institute in London, sci- entists have quite recently met with success in keeping in liquid oxygen for 20 hours, at a temperature of 250° C. below zero, spores of bacteria which have completely retained their germinative power after this severe test. And Prof. MacFayder has kept living germs for more than siz months at 200° C. below zero, not only without their germinative power having been destroyed, but even without its hav- ing been injured in the slightest degree. Svante Arrhénius points out that this preservation of germinative power at very low temperatures is the most natural thing possible. This power, indeed, ought to disappear only under the influence of some chemical reaction, and it is known that these reactions take place more and more slowly as the temperature of the medium is lowered. At the temperature of interstellar space, reactions of life ought to be produced by an activity a thousand million times weaker than at a temperature of 10° C., and at a temperature of 220° C. below zero the power of germination would not diminish more during 3,000,000 years than it diminishes in a day at the temperature with which we are familiar, 10° C. below zero.t All fear in regard to the prolonged action of cold is therefore removed—it is, then, without injurious effect on the germinative faculty of spores. Time, acting alone, seems equally harmless. Have not bacteria been found, in fact, in a Roman vault, which have certainly remained untouched for 1,800 years and which, nevertheless, were perfectly capable of germination after this long interval? | As to the influence of the absolute aridity of interstellar space, an agency that is added to that of cold and that of time, neither does this appear to be dangerous to our germ of life. Schraeder has shown that a green alga, Pleurococcus, can live three months in a medium that has been completely desiccated by sulphuric acid. Prof. Ma- quenne, of the French Institute, has gone still further. He has demon- strated, with experiment and observation at hand, that seeds can stay several years in a Crookes tube—that is, in almost complete vacuum, without losing their germinative power, and Paul Becquerel 1 Arrhénius. The Evolution of Worlds (Seyrig translation), p. 238. LIFE ON WORLDS—BERGET. 549 has observed. identical results on the spores of Mucoracese and of bacteria. Paul Becquerel has carried his experiments still further. In the Leyden laboratory he has subjected bacteria and spores for three weeks to the combined influence of vacuum, cold (—253° C.), and absolute aridity. Their vitality remained perfect. The “circumambient conditions” of intersidereal space are therefore not hostile to the vitality of a germ that would travel there, even for a very extensive period. Another objection, however, has been made to the theory of Arrhénius, one that is, at least at first glance, more serious—this is the deadly effect of ultra-violet radiations on living germs. It is known, in fact, that this action exists. It even exists so cer- tainly that drinking water is beginning to be sterilized industrially by utilizing the microbicide action of ultra-violet rays. Now, these rays, absorbed in great part by the atmosphere of the planets, travel freely through interstellar space. Will they not “kill” our wander- ing germs in the course of their journey from one world to another and destroy forever their germinative power ? Paul Becquerel’s experiments seem to support this possibility of the death of germs through the action of ultra-violet rays. This inves- tigator has placed dry spores in vacuum tubes, closed by a sheet of quartz that allowed the passage of ultra-violet rays with which the germs under observation were iluminated. At the end of six hours the most resistant spores are killed. The journey of a living germ in a space freely uluminated by ultra-violet light would therefore be full of dangers for the life of this germ, which would be exposed to a quick death. But to these experiments, carried out with a care and a skill that make the result indisputable, there are some opposing arguments. First of all, it must be noted that the death of the germ is not instantaneous; several hours were needed to destroy it, even under the action of a powerful light brought into immediate proximity with the microorganism subjected to its effects. Now, the intensity of radiations varies in inverse ratio with the squares of the distances. Therefore at the distance of the orbit of Neptune, solar radiation is nearly a thousand times weaker than at the distance of the earth from the radiating body, and at half the distance of the star a of the Centaur, this radiation would be twenty thousand million times weaker. A man resists the heat of a furnace before which he stands, when he would die if he were thrust into the fire. The work of Dr. Roux seems to have shown that it is an oxydizing action due to the constitution of the atmospheric medium that causes the déadly effect of the light on the germ, for the illustrious 85360°—sm 1912——36 550 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. scientist has made a series of researches in the course of which spores in a vacuum have resisted for several months the ulumination of a very strong solar light which, had they been in the air, would undoubt- edly have killed them. So one can conceive that a living germ, wandering through space and coming from a body on which life has already been manifested, can travel for a long time, meanwhile escaping causes of destruction that surround it, and arrive on a world still devoid of life, where conditions of temperature are such that life begins to become pos- sible there. It is enough that among the thousand millions of thousand mil- lions of germs sent off into the infinite by the pressure of radiation, a single one shall reach a planet that has been without life up to that time, in order to become there the point of departure of mani- fold organisms that will slowly evolve from it. The minuteness of such a germ moderates its fall through the atmosphere of this planet enough so that it does not become heated as a result of its friction in the atmosphere to a temperature sufficient to kill it. Having entered the atmosphere of the new planet, it will follow its eddies and currents, it will fall on a substratum, either solid or liquid, which will offer it the ‘‘optima” conditions of development, life will be born on the surface of a world lifeless till that time. ‘‘And, even if there should elapse mulions of years between the moment when a planet is susceptible of carrying life and the moment when a germ first falls upon it and develops there in order to take possession of it for organic life, that is very little in comparison with the extent of time during which this life will be able to exist there in complete development.’’! And so, according to this magnificent conception of the Swedish physicist, life can be carried from one planet to another. Germs swept away by ascending air currents which carry them to the lim- its ot the atmosphere are repelled by the electrically charged dust that has penetrated there, coming from suns that have driven it away by the repelling pressure of their radiation. After they have arrived in space they attach themselves to some straying grains of dust of greater dimensions than theirs and consequently capable of obeying the attraction of a neighboring planet rather than the repelling force of radiation; they then penetrate into the atmosphere of this new planet and bring life to it, if life has not yet developed there. And in that case one is forced to the conclusion that if all beings that live on a certain planet are derived from one initial germ, they have been able to reproduce in their almost infinite variety only by the evolution of forms that can have come from this original germ. 1 Arrhénius, ibid., p. 241. LIFE ON WORLDS-—BERGET. 551 Formed of cells composed of direct combinations of carbon, hydro- gen, and nitrogen, they have in themselves a necessary analogy to their constituent matter. The elements that constitute this matter are those of the traveling germs, and the latter may fall either on one planet or another; there must, therefore, also be some analogy between the beings living on the planets of a solar system and those living on the earth, with still more reason if they inhabit planets that revolve around the same sun. And so the naivete seems childish that makes people conceive of the ‘‘Martians” as strange creatures possessing the unknown functions of the animals of the earth. Another conclusion is also forced upon us: ‘Life is an eternal rebeginning”’; and this conclusion of Arrhénius in what concerns the world of life is the same as that indicated by his theory of the uni- verse, namely, that new celestial bodies are born from the collision of two dark suns. It is the eternal cycle of which the “ring” is the symbol. evita! iE in rohan bin “ane v . hi Aine Nr ee RN F ah are, Japeentbanto dk ee k vite Vise sialic’ haibh ban Het efel oul ishi ween > dad, edcve.cergly, 50 a sii picitonecentorald, ago nts pdihainedam ‘dads aaignsed ade sivas td Pbvouee Mat No? obcg beeen * reg besa A ensinih 6 , se lomsoda ous bi) ds i rift ble owas: , Hou ete 4 hee a hi iF 4 ad and they were utilized especially in sealing documents which were written at that time on slips of bamboo or wood. After the age of Emperor Wu (B. C. 156-87) of the Former Han dynasty they fell into disuse, but during his reign they were still employed, as attested by the biographies of the Gens. Chang Kien and Su Wu. A. Stein * has discovered a large number of such tablets with clay seals attached to them in the ruins of Turkistan. A number of ancient clay seals having been discovered also on Chinese soil, particularly in the provinces of Shensi and Honan, they could not escape the attention of the native archeologists. One of these, Liu T’ie-yiin, published at Shanghai in 1904 a small work in four volumes under the title Tie-yiin ts’ang tao, ‘Clay Pieces from the Collection of T’ie-yiin.”’ These volumes contain facsimiles of a number of clay seals as an- ciently employed for sealing official letters and packages.° The sub- ject, however, is not investigated, and no identifications of the char- acters of old script with their modern forms are given. Their deci- pherment is difficult and remains a task for the future. A few such 1 —. Chavannes (Les mémoires historiques de Se-ma Ts’ien, vol. 2, pp. 108-110) has recorded the various destinies of this now lost seal, according to the Chinese tradition, down to the T’ang dynasty. 2 Giles, Chinese-English Dictionary, Nos. 4143, 4144. 3 Literary references to them are scarce; some notes regarding them are gathered in the cyclopedia Yen kien lei han, ch. 205, p. 36. 4 Ancient Khotan, Oxford, 1907, Vol. 1, p. 318. 5 Laufer, Chinese Pottery, p. 287, and Chavannes in Journal asiatique, vol. 17, No. 1, 1911, p. 128. FINGER-PRINT SYSTEM—LAUFER. 649 clay seals secured by me at Si-ngan fu are likely to furnish an im- portant contribution to the early history of the finger-print system. The seal was considered in ancient China as a magical object suitable to combat or to dispel evil spirits, and the figures of tigers, tortoises, and monsters by which the metal seals were surmounted had the function of acting ascharms. We read in Pao-p’o-tse 1 that in olden times people traveling in mountainous regions carried in their girdles a white seal 4 inches wide, covered with the design of the Yellow Spirit and 120 characters. This seal was impressed into clay at the place where they stopped for the night, each of the party made 100 steps into the four directions of the compass, with the effect that tigers and wolves did not dare approach. Jade boxes, and even the doors of the palaces, were sealed by means of clay seals to shut out the influence of devils. Numerous are the stories regarding Buddhist and Taoist priests performing miracles with the assistance of a magical seal. On plate 4 six such clay seals from the collection of the Field Museum are illustrated. The most interesting of these is that shown in figure 2, consisting of a hard, gray baked clay, and displaying a thumb impression with the ridges in firm, clear, and perfect outlines, its greatest length and width being 2.5 em. It is out of the question that this imprint is due to a mere accident caused by the handling of the clay piece, for in that case we should see only faint and imperfect traces of the finger marks, quite insufficient for the purpose of identi- fication. This impression, however, is deep and sunk into the surface of the clay seal and beyond any doubt was effected with intentional energy and determination. Besides this technical proof there is the inward evidence of the presence of a seal bearing the name of the owner in an archaic form of characters on the opposite side. This seal, 1 em. wide and 1.2 em. long, countersunk 4 mm. below the surface, is exactly opposite the thumb mark, a fact clearly pointing to the intimate affiliation between the two. In reasoning the case out logically, there is no other significance possible than that the thumb print belongs to the owner of the seal who has his name on the obverse and his identification mark on the reverse, the latter evidently serving for the purpose of establishing the identity of the seal. This case, therefore, is somewhat analogous to the modern practice of affixing on title deeds the thumb print to the signature, the one being verified by the other. This unique speci- men is the oldest document so far on record relating to the history of the finger-print system. I do not wish to enter here into a discus- sion of the exact period from which it comes down, whether the Chou 1 Surname of the celebrated Taoist writer Ko Hung who died around 330 A. D., at the age of 81. 650 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. period or the Former Han dynasty is involved; this question is irrele- vant; at all events it may be stated confidently that this object, like other clay seals, was made in the pre-Christian era. An examination of other pieces may reveal some of the religious ideas underlying the application of the thumb print. Many clay seals are freely fashioned by means of the finger and exhibit strange relations to these organs. The finger shape of the two seals in figures 6 and 7 on plate 4 is obvious. Our illustration shows the lower uninscribed sides, while the name is impressed by means of a wooden mold on the upper side. Examination of these two pieces brings out the fact that they were shaped from the upper portion of the small finger, and further from the back of the finger. The lower rounded portion of the object in figure 7 is evidently the nail of the small finger which was pressed. against the wet clay lump; the seal has just the length of the first finger joint (2.6 cm. long), the clay mold follows the round shape of the finger, and the edges coiled up after baking. The lines of the skin, to become visible, were somewhat grossly enlarged in the impression. The clay seal in figure 6 (2.4 cm. long), I believe, was fashioned over the middle joint of the small finger of a male adult, the two joints at the upper and lower end of the seal being flattened out a little by pressure on the clay, and the lines of the epidermis being artificially inserted between them. The seal in figure 5, of red-burnt clay, with four characters on the opposite side (not ilus- trated), was likewise modeled from the bulb of the thumb by pressure of the left side against a lump of clay which has partially remained as a ridge adhering to the surface. The latter was smoothed by means of a flat stick so that no finger marks could survive. The groove in the lower part is accidental. Another square clay seal in our collection (No. 117032) has likewise a smoothed lower face, but a sharp mark from the thumb nail in it. These various processes suffice to show that the primary and essential point in these clay seals was a certam sympathetic relation to the fingers of the owner of the seal. Here we must call to mind that the seal in its origin was the outcome of magical ideas, and that, according to Chinese notions, it is the pledge for a person’s good faith; indeed, the word yin, ‘‘seal,’’ is explained by the word sin, ‘‘faith.”’ The man attesting a document sacrificed figuratively part of his body under his oath that the statements made by him were true, or that. the promise of a certain obligation would be kept. The seal assumed the shape of a bodily member; indeed, it was immediately copied from it and imbued with the flesh and blood of the owner. It was under the sway of these notions of magic that the mysterious, unchangeable furrows on the finger bulbs came into prominence and received their importance. They not 1 In the work T’ie yiin ts’ang t’ao, p. 85b, above quoted, is illustrated a clay seal containing only this one character. The same book contains also a number of finger-shaped clay seals. Smithsonian Report, 191 2.—Laufer PLATE 4. ANCIENT CHINESE CLAY SEALS. THE ONE IN FIG. 2 SHOWING THUMB-IMPRESSION ON THE REVERSE. THOSE IN FIGS. 6 AND 7 BEING MOLDED FROM THE SMALL FINGER. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Laufer. PLATE 5. INK-SKETCH BY KAO K'I-P‘El, EXECUTED BY MEANS OF THE FINGER-TIPS. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Laufer. PLATE 6. piper he soipeeee : Arr iae pape | INK-SKETCH BY KAO K'l-P‘El, EXECUTED BY MEANS OF THE FINGER-T IPS. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Laufer PLATE 7. dia Ye + We mop » ce mh a” oe a k. INK-SKETCH BY YO YU-SUN, EXECUTED BY MEANS OF THE FINGER-TIPS. FINGER-PRINT SYSTEM—LAUFER. 651 only contributed to identify an individual unmistakably but also presented a tangible essence of the individuality and lent a spiritual or magical force to the written word. Finally, I should like, in this connection to call attention to a pecu- liar method of painting practiced by the artists of China, in which the brush is altogether discarded and only the tips of the fingers are employed in applying the ink to the paper. This specialty is widely known in China under the name chi hua, which literally means “finger painting,’ and still evokes the highest admiration on the part of the Chinese public, being judged as far superior to brush painting. The first artist to have cultivated this peculiar style, ac- cording to Chinese traditions, was Chang Tsao, in the eighth or ninth’ century, of whom it is said that “‘he used a bald brush, or would smear color on the silk with his hand.” * Under the Manchu dy- nasty, Kao K’i-pei, who lived at the end of the seventeenth and in the first part of the eighteenth century, was the best representative of this art. ‘‘His finger paintings were so cleverly done that they could scarcely be distinguished from work done with the brush; they were highly appreciated by his contemporaries,’ says Hirth. On plates 4 and 5 two ink sketches by this artist in the collection of the Field Museum are reproduced. Both are expressly stated in the accompanying legends written by the painter’s own hand to have been executed with his fingers. The one representing two hawks fluttermg around a tree trunk is dated 1685; the other presents the reminiscence of an instantaneous observation, a sort of flashlight picture of a huge sea fish stretching its head out of the waves for a few seconds and spurting forth a stream of water from its jaws. The large monochrome drawing shown on plate 6—cranes in a lotus pond by Yo Yu-sun—is likewise attested as being a finger sketch (cht mo), and the painter seems to prove that he really has his art at his fingers’ ends. Hirth is inclined to regard this technique “‘rather a special sport than a serious branch of the art,’’ and practiced ‘‘as a specialty or for occasional amusement.’ There was a time when I felt tempted to accept this view, and to look upon finger painting as an eccentric whim of the virtuosos of a decadent art who for lack of inner resources endeavored to burn incense to their personal vanity. But if Chang Tsao really was the father of this art, at a time when painting was at the culminating point of artistic develop- ment, such an argument can not be upheld. I am now rather dis- posed to believe that the origin of finger painting seems to be some- how linked with the practice of finger prints, and may have received its impetus from the latter. The relationship of the two terms is somewhat significant; hua chi, ‘‘to paint the finger,” as we saw above 1H. A. Giles, An Introduction to the History of Chinese Pictorial Art, p. 61. F. Hirth, Scraps from a Collector’s Note Book, p. 30. 652 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. in the passage quoted from Kia Kung-yen, is the phrase for ‘“‘making a finger impression” in the T’ang period, and the same words reversed in their position, chi hua, mean “‘finger painting” or “‘painted with the finger.” It seems to me that also in finger painting the idea of magic was prevalent at the outset, and that the artist, by the imme- diate bodily touch with the paper or silk, was enabled to instill part of his soul into his work. Eventually we might even go a step farther and make bold to say that finger painting, in general, is a most ancient and primitive method of drawing and painting, one practiced long before the invention in the third century B. C. of the writing brush of animal hair, and the older wooden stylus. The hand, with ‘its versatile organs of fingers, was the earliest implement utilized by man, and the later artistic finger painting might well be explained as the inheritance of a primeval age revived under suggestions and im- pressions received from the finger-print system. URBANISM: A HISTORIC, GEOGRAPHIC, AND ECONOMIC S.EGLD ¥,.* By Prerre CLERGET, Professor at the High School of Commerce, Lyon, France. I. ANCIENT CITIES. “We should not have the idea of ancient cities,’ writes Fustel of Coulanges, ‘‘that we have of those we see built in our day. A few houses are erected and that is a village; the number of houses is eradually increased and it becomes a city; and we finish it, if there be room, by surrounding it with a moat and a wall. Among the ancients a city was not formed in course of time by a slow increase in the number of inhabitants and buildings, but they constructed it at once, complete almost ina day.”? The first need of the founder was to choose a site for the new city, but the choice was always left to the decision of the gods. Around the altar, which became the shrine of the city, were built the houses, “‘just as a dwelling is erected around the domestic fireside.” The boundary, traced according to a religious rite, was inviolable. This ceremony of founding the city was not forgotten, and each year they celebrated its anniversary. Every ancient city was first of all a sanctuary. Rome, in particular, was created in that way. One of the remark- able traits of her politics was that she attracted to herself all the cults of conquered peoples, and this was the chief way through which she succeeded in increasing her population. She brought to herself the inhabitants of conquered cities and little by little she made ‘Romans of them, each of them being permitted to exercise his cult; this liberty was enough to retain them there. At a time when statistics were unknown we are left, by lack of accurate figures, to rely for information upon some very uncertain and probably exaggerated estimates by ancient historians. Beloch, cited by M. de Foville, gives 800,000 inhabitants to Rome in the reign of Augustus; Young estimates Carthage under the Empire at 700,000; Schmoller gives 600,000 to 700,000 inhabitants to ancient 1 Translated, by permission, from Bulletin de la Société Neuchateloise de Géographie, vol. 20, 1909-10, pp. 213-231. Neuchatel, Switzerland, 1910. 2 Fustel de Coulanges: La cité antique, 17m édit, Paris, Hachette, 1900, p. 151. 653 654 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Alexandria, 600,000 to Seleucia, and 100,000 to Antioch and Per- gamis. In Greece the origin of cities was due to the same-religious motive, but ‘“‘the topography of the country, the characteristics of the race, the social and political status, all united in turning that country toward trades and manufactures, commerce, navigation, colonization, and everywhere gave birth to cities which, like Miletis, Chalcis, Corinth, Agina, and later, Athens, found in the new ways, riches and fame. It produced there, in brief, from the seventh to the fourth centuries before Christ, a phenomenon comparable to what we see to-day among modern peoples.”? In Greece it was chiefly through slavery that the cities increased in their way the number of inhab- itants. It was Chios, a maritime city, that first introduced foreign slaves among them. Its example was imitated by cities which had like needs, and there was thus organized ‘‘a steady stream of immi- eration, which brought from all the Orient into Greece an abundance of workmen.”? The population of ancient cities also included a great number of foreigners (météques) who, having abandoned their native land with no hope of return, consecrated themselves to the trades and to commerce. At Athens, toward the end of the fifth century before Christ, the météques and the freedmen reached the number of 100,000, as opposed to 120,000 citizens. Prosperity was then directly proportionate to the abundance of handwork, for the arm was the only force employed; but from the day when work and money failed them the cities decreased in population. Such was Greece during the second and first centuries before Christ. ‘‘Thebes,” writes Strabo, “was only a market town and the other cities of Beotia showed the same decline.” Before the Mediterranean epoch, where the principal seats of civil- ization were represented simultaneously or in turn by the great oli- garchies, Phenician, Carthaginian, Greek, and Italian—and we might repeat for Tyre and Carthage what we have said of Grecian cities—were placed the four great civilizations of high antiquity which all flourished in navigable regions. ‘‘Hoangho and Yangtze- Kiang,” writes L. Metchnikoff, ‘flowed through the primitive do- main of Chinese civilization; Vedique, India, was likewise cut by the basins of the Indus and the Ganges; the Assyro-Babylonian mon- archies spread over a vast country of which the Tigris and the Euphrates formed the two vital arteries; Egypt, finally, as Herod- otus has said, was a gift, a present, a creation, of the Nile.”* From Nineveh, on the Tigris, Assyrian civilization was carried to Babylon 1 Paul Guiraud: Etudes économiques sur l’antiquité. Paris, Hachette, 1905, p. 127. 2 Paul Guiraud, op. cit. 3 Léon Metchnikoff, La civilisation et les grands fleuves historiques. Paris, Hachette, 1889. a URBANISM—CLERGET. 655 on the Euphrates, to return to Seleucia on the Tigris. Even to-day all the rivers bring together the most intense economic life. M. Paul Mougeolle has with reason remarked that at each succes- sive period of the general history of the Western Empire the principal centers of civilization have extended farther and farther from the Tropics toward the polar cirele? This is shown by the followimg table: FIRST PERIOD. North | Inhabi- North | Inhabi- latitude. | tants. latitude. | tants, Qua z ore Phepesge set J. sees se sess 25" 43')|) 5 (2F400) || PO uretme scene tem ates sists ns SO 64 Setecnene Memphisss else me = Scie s 5458 30 00 (800) yp | FiSusaee tae ser See ae 32 00 (71) Mer0e s Sao cre Sygate dad: IY CUD eRe eee BaD YON ese tees ae ase 32 30 | (50,000) Nineveh! 2s. 522445. S20. 36 16 (742) ALY CLAS Cer tatsiarateici interes ooo 7. Wa ae SES oe PAV. CLAS Che ss as orale ici BY ARGY fan EES = SECOND PERIOD. North | thhabi- North | thabi- Rexth lati- postin lati- ‘tomts lati- tude. ‘ tude. 7 tude. . , ° , ° , EVE GS Sec se eps eee 33 16 (57) || Carthare’. 2.222. 37 36 | (2,800) |) Cordova........... 3f 52 Ataris) 42. SRE E 37158) ||) (196) Wi Rome. .$222.25205- 41 54 | (1,188) |) Toledo...........-. 39. 53 Byzance: .. =). 41 QO) [Posse Blorences.42. --.-<:4 AB) OT foes dra. 3 Average...... Pa 24e | Seed Average..... STG ee Average ..... | 38 52 THIRD PERIOD. | Parisese fst Seta 2 48 50 | (7,802) || Vienna..........-- | 48 13 | (7,200) || Stockholm......... 59 21 MONG a avee crac aee 51 31 }(30,500) || Berlin..........-.- | 52 31 | (6,300) || St. Petersburg. ..-. 60 00 Average..-... OOO Ec vas ses Average..... | OOP 22a eee nine Average....- 59 41 In many ancient cities agriculture surpassed industrial and commercial activities. Everywhere within the ancient cities were found common pasturage lands, as at Palmyra, and it was the same in many old medieval cities in France (Douai, Amiens, Aurillac, Dole, ete.), in England, in Germany, and in Italy. Not only were the inhabitants of the cities agriculturists, possessing fields outside the cities, but urban space itself was in great part under cultivation. The ancient writings make frequent mention of wide cultivated tracts or of agricultural undertakings. These are chiefly gardens and vineyards, but mention of arable fields are not rare. Sometimes these cultivated tracts serve to separate the various quarters of the 2 Paul Mougeolle: Statique des civilisations. Paris, 1883. 656 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. city and are an indirect proof of the village origin of the dwellers there.! Among ancient peoples war was often a chronic condition and strifes occurred even within the cities. In Rome rivalries between the several quarters led Mommsen to say that the city was an assem- blage of small urban communities rather than a city aggregated in a single body. Each part of the city was fortified as much against other parts as against the common enemy. In Babylon temples and palaces each formed a fortress within the city. At Rheinfelden strifes were frequent between the city and the chateau.? II. CITIES OF THE MIDDLE AGES. Medieval Europe never had cities as great as those of antiquity. The population was more widely scattered and the causes of concen- tration which prevailed in the nineteenth century did not yet exist. Up to the year 1400, Cologne and Lubeck, in Germany, alone exceeded about 30,000 inhabitants. Burckhardt gives 90,000 citizens to Florence in 1338 and 190,000 to Venice in 1422, although M. de Foville thinks those figures are too great. Schmoller estimates 50,000 to 60,000 inhabitants in Bruges and Gand toward the end of the Middle Ages, and Antwerp, in the sixteenth century, had about 200,000 population. England for a long period had few cities. In 1377 London numbered 30,000 to 40,000, York 11,000, Bristol, 9,500, Coventry 7,000, and at the end of the seventeenth century only two provincial cities, Norwich and Bristol, approached 30,000 inhabitants, the others remaining below 10,000. As to-day in certain new countries, such as Australia and Argentina, so the cities of antiquity were formed of ‘‘heads disproportioned to the bodies,” and the rural element was not necessarily important. But this lack of equilibrium in the ‘‘social body’’ did not exist in the Mid- dle Ages, the land commenced to be colonized and improved; slavery no longer existed, and serfdom attached to the land. The difficulty of communication checked the currents of immigration, formerly rendered easy by the sea. The market, during the greater part of that period, was the nucleus of the city, except when it had its origin in some towns of the Gauls, or from some Roman communities. In many cases the urban right was one of the forms of royal or seignioral concessions for markets and it served to keep the population in a place granted. Bruges, Gand, Tournai, Valenciennes, etc., are purely economic creations from market centers.’ 1 René Maunier. L/’origine et la fonction économique des villes. Etude de morphologie sociale. Paris, Girard et Briére, 1910, p. 73-80. 2 René Maunier. Op. cit., p. 123. 3 Cf. J. Flach, Les origines de l’ancienne France, vol. 2, p. 301-350. Georges Bourgin, Les origines urbaines du moyen age. Revue de synthése historique, December, 1903. URBANISM—CLERGET. 657 Cities were built either around some old Roman camp or at the crossing of a river, or around a church, an abbey, or fortified chateau. The plan differed according to the origin, and extension was made irregularly, following the topography, or concentrically around one or many centers. Paris, the ancient Lutéce, began on the Ile de la Cité. Although that place, covered with a bed of muddy alluvia, was not at all suited for habitation, yet it was an island well located and specially favorable for defense, being a direct extension of a natural stretch of land. The right bank of the river being only an inhospitable marsh, Paris extended first along on the left bank and climbed up Mount St. Geneviéve. But it is the river after all that continues to dominate the city, thanks to the “Corporation des Nautes.”’ The invasion of the Barbarians reenforced its defense; the fortified city gained in importance. The Francs came, were converted, and Christianity began in earnest the transformation whence emerged the Paris of the Middle Ages and of modern times. Capital of France, she grew up with regal power.! Year. Reign. Inhabitants. | 38635 2¢)-£ =< fase oe Julien! ssc cep eyscassse- 5% 8, 000 SLO Deas ssiseiecee Clovis Scarce osteo cae 30, 000 O20b eas = Sees Philippe-Auguste.......... 120, 000 192842153 Philippe Vi2s--). 2. faaeee 250, 000 L50G: a ssths aensasns FLenryVe te. secede erste 230, 000 ii Gane aero se WOUISWACL Vo certe cece nse oe 540, 000 L788eS2 25s sane oer TOUS ENG VL eee reer = aye 599, 000 PSOLY SSA SS ESE Consulate). 22 sess 28 eee 548, 000 TSU Ase Wpois 2X Vb. Ae ose 714, 000 PRU oe oe eiaiete = cere ge nate a aeainess/setciae ween asin 786, 000 1ST yecteck teh a 9 a Ra 2B a SAD le 1,053, 000 ISOMERS LOS: PE ASLETE Seueg. IE SSAA SLE (NL CO 1, 174, 000 173 Ca See EE Se | ae Ge (Ce a 1, 696, 000 1G nie a aie ee ay TR Da te ia 1, 825, 000 1 EY pie al ete ee he hat obi Se ine fie Pavatt 1,794, 000 LS TOLELEL ALE SAE PIAS Pree). Dath te aes. 1,989, 000 SSB 5 cece ot ope. cota eg sere eee Pre eee | sk 2,345, 000 LOOBE een t cess eee ie eons ements ..| 2,763,000 In the Middle Ages wars were frequent, and cities sought, above everything, positions for defense; but after they had built up the heights, settlements were made in the plain when relative peace prevailed attracted by the presence of water and fields for cultiva- tion. The city was often made up of two distinct elements: One inhabited by soldiers and agriculturists, the other by merchants. “The Flemish city,” writes M. Pirenne, ‘‘was made by joining a 1 Marcel Poéte: L’enfance de Paris. Paris, Colin, 1908. The population attributed to Paris at suec- cessive periods is as follows: 658 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. fortress and a market place, a castrum and a portus.’’ This method prevailed in the most varied civilizations, in ancient cities as well as in the medieval cities of France, Germany, England, and Italy. The city of Ratisbonne, for example, was formed of three parts. The first contained the palace of the King and some convents (regius pagus, or royal district); the second included the court of the clergy, two convents, and some merchants (pagus cleri, or priestly district); these two parts together comprised the old city (antiqua urbs). The third part, or new city, was inhabited by the merchants and artisans (pagus mercatorum, or mercantile district). Military needs demanded places easy for defense, some strategic points whence they could command the surrounding region; while for economic purposes there was needed easy communication, suitable for com- mercial activities. Now, as M. René Maunier remarks, the same regions very often have all these diverse qualities, for example, the centers and the boundaries for geographic units. An intersection of roads answers best for both needs. It was for this reason that Erfurt, a military center at the crossroads of Thuringia, very quickly became a center of commerce. Ratzel had before observed that in every geographical unit life is especially developed within these limits. Commercial business is attracted by the frontiers, and to-day indus- tries are spread out on the city boundary; maritime ports are more and more growing to be industrial centers. In the city of the Middle Ages industrial activity was limited to local needs; it was the system of city economy to which would later sueceed national economy. Some special markets were given up each to a particular product; trades permanently occupied certain streets to which they gave their name. You still find this same custom in cities of the Orient and in Morocco. This grouping of trades is easily explained either by technical or hygienic causes still existing in some cities, such as the necessity that tanners and dyers be near some water, that ropemakers be near some walls, or by legal requirements, such as city tax and regulations imposed on the cor- poration, and the localization of trades, whereby the authorities maintain competition and render easier the control of merchandise. In another case the trades have not all come at the same time, but have been successively engaged in promoting the extension of the city. Finally, the professional group is not only an economic factor, but it is often still, according to M. René Maunier, a society, a brother- hood, which constitutes in its membership a real community of life and which requires that they be near together. In proportion as the city is developed, the trades would be multiplied and decentralized, they would follow the consumers and be dispersed with them; then, when the city ceases to be their chief market, new a 1 René Maunier, op. cit., pp. 103-151. 2 René Maunier, op. cit., p. 217. URBANISM—CLERGET. 659 industries are established on the boundary and even outside the city. Berlin has, in this way, developed industrial establishments directly dependent upon that city covering a radius of 100 kilometers. There is also a financial reason for this spreading out, and that is the decrease in average location values from the center toward the boundary. III. URBANISM IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. (a) GEOGRAPHICAL SITUATION. The formation of centers of population and of ways of communica- tion which unite them is determined at once by conditions dependent on man, based on the degree of culture and on political considerations and by certain natural conditions, such as the richness and lay of the land as well as to other factors connected with the climate! The influence of latitude is very marked. If you look at the annual average isotherms on a map, you will see that the most important city aggregations of the Northern Hemisphere are grouped chiefly between the extreme limits of 16°C. (60° F.) (St. Louis, Lisbon, Genoa, Rome, Constantinople, Shanghai, Osaka, Kioto, etc.), and 4° C. (40° F.) (Quebec, Christiania, Stockholm, St. Petersburg, etc.). The isotherm 10° C. (50° F.) represents accurately enough the central axis of this zone, within which are found Chicago, New York, London, Vienna,’ etc. The Tropical Zone includes only 24 cities of more than 100,000 inhabitants, 15 of which are in Asia, 6 in America, 2 in Oceanica, and 1 in Africa. High altitudes, like extreme temperatures, diminish populations, which disappear completely at a certain limit. In Europe the inhab- ited centers only exceptionally exceed an altitude of 1,500 meters(5,000 feet). But in the Tropical Zone it is natural that populations seek high altitudes so as to profit by the lowering of the temperature and to derive benefit from a temperate climate. In Abyssinia, the inhabited zone is almost entirely included between 1,800 and 2,500 meters alti- tude. Sana, in Arabia, is 2,150 meters high; Teheran (250,000 pop- ulation) is at a height of 1,230 meters. In Tibet, Lassa is 3,560 meters high and Chigatze 3,620 meters. From Mexico to Chile, aside from some ports on the ocean, in nearly every instance you must seek above 2,000 meters for the most important cities. Mexico City at 2,300 meters numbers more than 300,000 inhabitants; Quito, with 80,000 inhabitants, is 2,850 meters high; La Paz, with 63,000 inhabi- tants, 2,700 meters; and Potosi, with 16,000 inhabitants, is at an elevation of 4,000 meters * (13,000 feet). 1E.Cammaerts. J.-G. Kohl et la géographie des communications. Bulletin de la Société royale belge de géographie, 1904. 2L. Metchnikoff, op. cit. 3 Louis Gobet. Les grandes villes de la terre situées au-dessus de 2,000 m. Revue de Fribourg, 1903, p. 45-60. In Europe the great aggregations are al] below 200 meters: Berlin, 25 m., Paris, 26 m., Vienna, 157 m., etc. 660 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. The site plays a rédle not less important than the general geographical position. You can consider this from a triple point of view: From topographical location, situation in relation to means of communica- tion, and geological composition. The topographical point of view is sometimes of great importance, as when the city must first of all think of means of defense; it is preferable to look for heights. What is of chief importance to-day is facility for construction and for expan- sion; land flat and solid, and extended enough. We willreturn now to a study of the plan of cities. The general situation certainly precedes the localsite. Thelocating of manufacturing establishments is depend- ent on the locating of means of communication. The great cities are situated on the banks of rivers, of lakes, or seas; they have sprung up along railway lines; their development is dependent on the impor- tance of the circulation; when that is turned aside the city is ruined (Le Cap). According to its geological constitution, a city exerts its influence either through the presence of fertile soil, suited to agricul- ture, or by the presence of mineral wealth, coal or metallic ores, which have promoted the creation of great industrial cities. (b) Human Factors. Urbanism is a phenomenon of great complexity which can be sim- plified only at the expense of very close study. An examination of geographical conditions is necessary but will not alone suffice. Human factors play a considerable réle not only in the past, as we have already seen, but even more in the present. Very large cities arose during the nineteenth century. In 1801 there were in Europe, according to M. Paul Meuriot,? only 21 centers with more than 100,000 inhabitants; 22, perhaps, with Constantinople. POPULATION OF THE PRINCIPAL CITIES OF EUROPE IN 1801. Great Britain and Ireland: London, 958,000; Dublin, 140,000; Edinburgh, 85,000; Liverpool, 82,000; Manchester, 76,000; Birmingham, 70,000; Bristol, 61,000; Leeds, 53,000. France: Paris, 548,000; Marseille, 111,000; Lyon, 109,000; Bordeaux, 91,000; Rouen, 87,000; Nantes, 73,000; Lille, 54,000; Toulouse, 50,000. Belgium: Brussels, 66,000; Antwerp, 62,000; Gand, 56,000; Liege, 50,000. Holland: Amsterdam, 215,000; Rotterdam, 50,000; The Hague, 38,000. Germany: Berlin, 172,000; Hamburg, 100,000; Dresden, Breslau, and Konigsberg, 60,000; Cologne, 50,000. Austriaand Hungary: Vienna, 231,000; Prague, 70,000; Budapest, 54,000; Lemberg, 48,000. Italy: Naples, 350,000; Rome, 170,000; Milan, 170,000; Venice, 150,000; Palermo, 120,000. 1 Of 28 cities of over 100,000 inhabitants according to the census of 1891, 14 are ports. 2 Paul Meuriot. Des agglomerations urbaines dans ]’Europe contemporaine. Essai sur les causes, les conditions, les conséquences de leur développement. Paris, Berlin, 1897. URBANISM—CLERGET. 661 Spain: Madrid and Barcelona more than 100,000. Portugal: Lisbon, more than 100,000. Russia: St. Petersburg, Moscow, Varsovie, more than 100,000. In 1850 the number of cities over 100,000 inhabitants had increased to 42 (3.8 per cent of the total population); to 70 (6.6 per cent) in 1870; to 121 (10 per cent) in 1895; to 160 at the opening of the twentieth century. In 1900, 23 cities exceeded 500,000 inhabitants, 6 numbered a million each. NUMBER OF EUROPEAN CITIES OF MORE THAN 100,000 INHABITANTS, AND POPULA- TIONS OF THOSE EXCEEDING 250,000. Great Britain (1907): 38 cities of more than 100,000, of which 14 exceeded 250,000, as follows: London, 4,758,000 (registration London) or 7,218,000 for Greater London; Glasgow, 848,000; Liverpool, 746,000; Manchester, 643,000; Birmingham, 553,000; Leeds, 470,000; Sheffield, 455,000; Bristol, 368,000; Edinburgh, 346,000; West- Ham, 308,000; Bradford, 290,000; Newcastle, 273,000; Kingston-upon-Hull, 267,000; Nottingham, 257,000. Ireland (1901): 2 cities of more than 250,000; Dublin, 373,000; Belfast, 350,000. All the others less than 100,000. France (1906): 15 cities more than 100,000, of which 4 exceed 250,000, as follows: Paris, 2,763,000; Marseille, 517,000; Lyon, 472,000; Bordeaux, 252,000. Belgium (1906): 4 cities of more than 100,000, of which 2 exceed 250,000, as follows: Brussels, 623,000 (with its faubourgs); and Antwerp, 304,000. Holland (1906): 4 cities of more than 100,000, of which 2 exceed 250,000, as follows: Amsterdam, 564,000; Rotterdam, 390,000; and The Hague, 249,000. Germany (1905): 41 cities of more than 100,000, of which 11 exceeded or reached 250,000, as follows: Berlin, 2,040,000; Hamburg, 803,000; Munich, 539,000; Dres- den, 517,000; Leipzig, 504,000; Breslau, 471,000; Cologne, 429,000; Frankfort, 335,000; Nuremberg, 294,000; Dusseldorf, 253,000; Hanover, 250,000. Austria-Hungary: 9 cities of more than 100,000, of which 2 exceed 250,000, as fol- lows: Vienna, 2,000,000 (in 1907); and Budapest, 732,000 (in 1900). Switzerland: 3 cities of more than 100,000—Zurich, Bale, and Geneva—but none reaching 250,000. Italy (1901): 11 cities of more than 100,000, of which 5 exceed 250,000, as follows: Naples, 564,000; Milan, 493,000; Rome, 463,000; Turin, 336,000; Palermo, 310,000. Spain (1900): 7 cities at least 100,000, of which 2 exceed 250,000, as follows: Madrid, 540,000; and Barcelona, 533,000. Portugal (1900): 2 cities of more than 100,000, of which 1 exceeds 250,000, namely, Lisbon, 356,000. Greece (1906): 1 city of 170,000 (Athens). All the others less than 100,000. Turkey in Europe (recent figures): 2 cities of more than 100,000, 1 of which exceeds 250,000, namely, Constantinople, 1,106,000. Roumania (1899). 1 city of 270,000 (Bukarest). All the others less than 100,000. Russia in Europe (1900-1907): 14 cities of more than 100,000, of which 7 exceed 250,000, as follows: St. Petersburg, 1,429,000 (in 1905); Moscow, 1,359,000 (in 1907); Varsovie, 756,000 (in 1901); Odessa, 450,000 (in 1900); Lodz, 352,000 (in 1900); Kiew, 319,000 (in 1902); Riga, 282,000. Finland (1905): 1 city of 117,000 (Helsingfors), Denmark (1906): 1 city of 514,000 (Copenhagen) with its iaubourgs. All the others ess than 100,000. 85860°—sm 191243 662 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Sweden (1906): 2 cities of more than 100,000, of which 1 only exceeds 250,000 (Stockholm), 333,000. Norway (1900): 1 city of 228,000 (Christiania). All the others less than 100,000. In France, from 1846 to 1906, the population of the centers of more than 2,000 inhabitants rose from 24.4 per cent to 42.1 per cent. In England, according to J. James, in 1850 the rural balanced with the city population;' in 1901 the rural population represented only 23 per cent of the total. In the United States, according to the same author, the population of cities of more than 8,000 inhabitants rose from 3.35 per cent in 1790 to 29.20 per cent in 1890. From 1870 to 1895 the population of Europe had increased 20 per cent; that of cities of more than 100,000 inhabitants 52 per cent. For each 1,000 inhabitants of our continent you can reckon 15 in the large cities in 1800, 34 in 1850, 63 in 1870, and 100 in 1895. In 1800 there was one city of more than 100,000 inhabitants for each 450,000 square kilo- meters, in 1870 one for 134,000, in 1895 one for 75,000 (P. Meuriot). Among the human factors of urbanism during the nineteenth century must be noted first of all the decrease in the number of wars, particularly since 1815; the abolition of serfdom which has freed man from the land; the increasing multiplication of state offices and of public functionaries, obligatory military service, and parceling of the land. Intensive culture and employment of ma- chines have contributed to rural exodus, encouraged in another way by intense industrial development, made possible by the introduc- tion of water power and the employment of steam. It is in England and Germany, the two most industrial countries of Europe, that the number and the population of urban communities have made the most progress in the last quarter of a century. Nearly one-fourth of the population of Germany lives in cities of more than 20,000 inhabitants. The Kingdom of Saxony and Rhenish Prussia are great centers of growth and attraction for the Empire. Manufac- tures concentrate the population, nevertheless the high cost of living in cities, the ease and quickness of communications, and the recent employment of water power commences to work to the contrary. Trade, like manufactures, concentrates population; the market helps to keep the workman in the city, and all commercial organizations are established in great centers. You may say that these are developed through the requirements of trades. Besides, com- mercial needs attract manufactures, and the latter often changes with the port or simply with the market. It is for this reason that ports become more and more industrial cities. It is chiefly through migrations that cities are developed. Accord- ing to M. Levasseur, the attractive force of human groups is in gen- 1J. James. The growth of great cities in area and population. American Academy of Political and Social Science, January, 1899. URBANISM—CLERGET. 663 eral proportionate to the mass. This explains why some cities! number millions. Immigration to cities is seasonal, as in the case of house builders, though more often it is permanent, with the intention of staying for a considerable period, but retaining the hope of return to the modest provincial country. As a general rule, the attraction toward the city is inversely proportional to the distance and to the comparative ease of the home life of the emigrants. According to M. Paul Meuriot, the attractive force of Paris is exerted chiefly over a radius of about 250 kilometers. In London the proportion of inhabitants furnished by each region or county is also naturally inverse to their distance from the metropolis. The immigration to Berlin is mostly Prussian. In France the provincial centers become more and more important and divert to their profit a part of the emigration in their region, but the superior forces of administrative centralization favor and develop the exodus toward the capital. Emigrants tend to group themselves. These groups are chiefly by professions in the Provinces; but they are by nationalities in the great cosmopolitan cities, such as New York, where there is a Jewish quarter, an Italian quarter, a Chinese quarter. Societies for recreation or for benevolent purposes are organized among emigrants of the same section or the same nationality. M. P. Meuriot has stated that formerly the name ‘‘city’’ was based less on the number of inhabitants than on the leading features and the special advantages of the communities. In France, in England, and in Germany the title ‘‘city”’ is chiefly reserved for those groups which have had a particular political position. On the other hand, every community called rural is not necessarily agricultural, but is supported sometimes by manufactures. Inversely, the great markets are only agricultural communities. Rural grouping is characterized chiefly by a uniformity in methods of living, while the rule of city grouping is the diversity of life. (e) ExrERIOR CHARACTER OF CITIES. The growth of cities has first of all caused the disappearance of the walls which formerly surrounded nearly all of them. Their rural aspect has disappeared, notwithstanding the frequent pres- ence of vacant land within their limits. The presence of factories 1 Proportion of native population of cities: London (1891), 68 per cent; Vienna (1890), 44.7 percent; Berlin (1890), 41 per cent; St. Petersburg (1890), 31.7 per cent; Paris (1891), 35.4 per cent. Compare A. F. Weber. The growth of the cities in the nineteenth century. A study in statistics. London, Kuip, 1899. 2In 1901, in a population of 2,714,064, Paris had 1,394,000 provincials, and in its 20 districts or wards only one, the twentieth, showed a majority of Parisians. The native departments of the emigrants were, in order of importance: Seine-et-Oise, 99,644; Seine-et-Marne, 57,915; Nord, 51,750; Nievre, 51,065; Jonne, Loiret, Seine-Inférieure, Aisne, Cher, Creuse, Sadne-et-Loire, Cantal, Aveyron, Cotes-du-Nord, Ille-et- Villaine, etc. 664 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. has been the principal cause for the creation of outskirts and suburbs of an extensive character. Density of population is generally greater in the center than on the outskirts, but as the dwellings and the lands are more valuable there, an inverse movement has begun, encouraged, too, by hygiene, for the air is better at the boundary than at the city center. The direction of extension depends chiefly on geographic and economic conditions, and cities spread out much more rapidly when these conditions are favorable. Bound between natural insurmountable obstacles, the sea or rivers, cities push skyward, as in New York,' where one sees buildings erected from 30 to 40 stories high. But if there are no constraints for looking in any other direction for space needed for their development the advance is preferably toward the west. The prevailing direction of winds from the west, driving back unhealthy odors toward the east, render westerly sections more healthy. Paris and London offer examples of this phenomenon. ‘The public square is no longer the stage for enacting the leading scenes of public life; its rdle is to relieve monotony, to provide more air and light. The market square still exists, but it tends more and more to be replaced by closed markets. They are hardly anything else in the south of Europe, especially in Italy, where the squares still conform to the old type. According to M. C. Sitte, experience shows that the minimum dimen- sion of a public square should be equal to the height, and its maxi- mum should not exceed double the height of the principal edifice, but there must equally be taken into account the width of the adjoining streets.? THE STREET. Streets are sometimes so narrow and lateral, roads so few, that the way becomes a closed place, very agreeable to the esthetic eye. Their winding constantly shuts out the perspective, and at each instant presents a new horizon. The straight street prevails to-day, particularly in new cities, such as those in America, where the streets cross at right angles, so as to form a regular draught board. The effect produced depends on the proper proportion between the width of the street and the height of the buildings, and also on the architecture of the structures. OPEN SPACES AND GRASS PLOTS. Hygiene is more and more occupying the attention of munici- palities of large cities. One notes that in Paris, for example, the mortality from tuberculosis diminishes in proportion to the extent 1 Compare Pierre Clerget. Villes et écoles américaines. Revue de Fribourg, March-April, 1906. 2 Camillo Sitte, L’art de batir les villes. Translation and adaptation by C. Martin, Geneva. Emils Magne, L’esthetique des villes. Paris, Mercure de France, 1908. K. Kahn, L’estnetique delarue. Paris, Fasquelle, 1901. URBANISM—CLERGET, 665 of open spaces. The coefficient varies from 104 per 10,000 in the crowded quarters to 11 per 10,000 near the Champs Elysées. That is why the English call the parks ‘‘the lungs of London.” ! A park that is large enough is a reservoir of pure air, and the trees that encompass and protect it form a very efficient natural filter in stop- ping the clouds of dust from the streets and rendering healthy the ambient air. While London has 290 parks or squares, whose total area is 752 hectares (1,859 acres), and Berlin 20 parks of 554 hec- tares (1,368 acres), Paris has 46 parks of only 263 hectares (649 acres). This is not enough, though active steps are being wisely taken to increase the extent of the parks, and with that end in view it is proposed to reserve the space now covered by the fortifications. The movement in favor of open spaces and for plant growth in the cities is manifest in England and the United States in very extensive work for laborers’ gardens and in the creation of public gardens, a work which an association has planned to promote in France.’ URBAN CIRCULATION. M. E. Hénard, in his Etudes sur les transportations de Paris, ingeniously distinguishes six kinds of circulation: The household circulation, the professional circulation flowing at the hours of opening and closing of offices and shops, the economic circulation, the fashionable circulation, the holiday circulation, and the popular circulation. You might also add the tourist circulation. These several kinds of circulation present as a whole a series of problems which, according to M. de Foville, constitute ‘‘the mechanics of crowds.”” The encumbering of certain streets goes so far as to obstruct and congest traffic. In Paris, for example, the services rendered by the general transportation companies, exclusive of car- riages and long distance railways, but including suburban service 1 Les espaces libres & Paris. Le Musée social. Memoires et documents, July, 1908. 2G. Benoit-Levy, Les Cités-Jardins. Revue internationale de sociologie, December, 1908. Ch. Gide, Les cités-jardins. Revue économique internationale, October, 1907. H. Baudin, La Maison familiale & bon marché. Geneva, 1904. L’ Association des Cités-Jardins de France has for its aim to apply to dwelling places the latest principles of hygiene; to form model industrial centers; to develop city systems of parks, gardens, and playgrounds; to encourage the creation of city gardens. Everywhere, in the factory, in the city, at the fireside, the association seeks to introduce customs of life more healthy and pleasanter. We seek to create model cities or villages in all their parts when that is possible. We seek to develop social institutions which render life more merciful and more efficacious. We seek to develop habits which shall better the physique and morals of our race. We seek to make our centers of city life more hcspitable and healthier. For this purpose we have contributed to the formation of city gardens, to the promotion of social welfare in factories, to the conservation and extension of open spaces in large cities. How one dreams one minute of the effect that would result in a workshop by the addition of windows to allow the air, the light, and the sun toenter throughout the day. How one dreams of the effect it would have on the workmen to place near their work tables some seats adjusted to their shape, where they could be seated without risk of deformity. How one dreams, in another range of ideas, of the results of the conservation of a bunch of shrubbery or trees, or of a park in crowded quarters of the city. The workshop well lighted, the city with great open spaces, would be better able than the sanitariums with their expensive treatment to combat tuberculosis. The Association of City Gardens has created the social service which gratuitously makes all inquiries and gives advice to all who wish to better the conditions of life in our present cities or to build new ones. 666 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. at intervals of about 25 years, are shown by the following figures, corresponding to the number of passengers carried, expressed in millions: 1856 1885 1904 Omnibus) ...534 ofc Sonacege eee cae ao piee ee Speer ee of whee megane | : Pe” >> HW2V 5 OU 9VH¥ADLOMMV hi VWVOINOOV DML ad > VSNIWIVIOVd J Wl stexAOM0 “~e NID OWHdS YOM Wee 731204 cote aien ee “oWWNnYisqO— Cl6L ‘hoday ueiu OSU}IWS ‘GS alvid THE SINAI PROBLEM—OBERHUM MER. 671 height (2,060 meters=6,780 feet) from the oasis of Firaén,! near the west border of the mountain range. Eminent investigators, such as the Egyptologists Richard Lepsius ? and George Ebers,* followed him in this view and attempted to prove that the earliest Christian tradition assigned the event to Jebel Serbal and that it was only because of the founding of the monastery by Justinian that the tradition was changed to Jebel Masi. The majority of investigators held to the tradition which had prevailed through the centuries and sharply opposed the new hypothesis. Karl Ritter ¢ in his work sums up all the knowledge and investigations on this subject down to 1848; it is the most comprehensive description of the Sinaitic Peninsula and is not yet superseded by any similar work, and especially Konstantin Tischendorf.6 But the war cry, ‘‘ Here Serbal, here Jebel Mfisa,”’ is not yet silenced. All these investigators started from the seemingly self-assumed presumption that the route of the Israelites from the “‘Red Sea,” that is, from the north end of the Gulf of Suez, led through the mountain range to which modern geography, in agreement with tra- dition, gave the name of Sinai; the native population designates it simply et-Tur (“The mountain,’ compare Taurus). But opposed to this assumption there has been of late asserting itself, with con- stantly increasing force, the view that the stage of events described in the Book of Exodus was not at all on the Sinaitic Peninsula, but is to be sought east of the valley called al Araba, which connects the Akaba-brake with the Jordan depression. With this view another assumption gains in importance, namely, that the Sinai of the Bible must have been a volcano. In contrast to the old explanations which compared the phenomena described in the Book of Exodus, with a heavy thunderstorm, such as do indeed sometimes occur in the water- less Sinaitic Peninsula, the unmistakable similarity of those descrip- tions with a volcanic eruption was now pointed out. The first to present this new view was the English geographer Charles Beke, who had rendered much service in the exploration of Africa.® In a special monograph? and in a communication to the ‘‘Athenzeum’’s he gave expression to the view that the occurrences related in the Bible must have been of a volcanic nature, and at the same time called attention to the volcanic regions of northwestern Arabia, especially to the 1 Reisen in Syrien (Weimar, 1824), pp. 964f. 2 Briefe aus Agypten (Berlin, 1852), pp. 340ff, 417ff. 3 Durch Gosen zum Sinai (Leipzig, 1872), p. 381f. Palistina in Wort und Bild, 1883, vol. 11. 4 Die Erdkunde, part 14 (1848). 5 Aus dem heiligen Lande (Leipzig, 1862), p. 91ff. Compare Petermann’s Mitteilungen (1875), p. 48f; F. Embacher, Lex. d. Reisen (1882), p. 30f; Alli- bone, Dict. of Eng. Lit., Suppl. I. 7 Mount Sinai a Voleano (London, 1873), 48 pp. 8 Atheneum, 1873, pp. 181, 214f. 672 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. Harrat en- Nar,’ northeast of Medina (26°, 30’ N., 40° E.), which was still active in historic times. Beke himself in advanced age undertook a trip to the Orient in order to solve this question. Prompted? by a remark in the work of Irby and Mangles,? who believed they had found voleanic peaks northeast of Akaba, he turned his attention to. the mountain which towers above the northern point of the Gulf of Akaba in the east and believed that he had found the true Sinai in Jebel Baghir, 1,600 meters (5,250 feet) high, supposedly also called Jebel en-Nar (“Mountain of Light’’), five to six hours distant from Akaba.t His companion, Milne, who afterwards became famous as an investigator of earthquakes, ascended the mountain and Beke had the disappointment to learn that it was not a volcano, but was of granite formation. But instead of drawing from this the conclusion that Sinai must be sought elsewhere, Beke held firmly to his localiza- tion and gave up his voleano theory. ‘‘I was thoroughly mistaken about the volcanic character of (the true) Sinai,’ he wrote to his friend, R. Burton,’ and in a similar way he expressed himself in his interesting notes which, after his death, (July 31, 1874), were pub- lished by his widow (unfortunately without a map).° But his other reasons also for localizing Sinai near Akaba were already shaken by Burton.” He agrees with Beke in opposing the traditional Sinai, but thinks of the Desert of Pharan, north of the Sinaitic Peninsula and refers to a paper by H. Gritz, who takes his stand for the Jebel Arajif en-Naka (30° 20’ N., 34° 20’ E.). The now almost forgotten position of the English geographer and Biblical investigator Beke on this question has been dwelt upon at some length, in order to establish his priority in a problem upon which, through recent investigations, unexpected light has been shed. I pass over the recent literature on the Sinaitic Peninsula as such. It is recorded in my reports on the geography of the ancient world.° By the last one, which has been recently published,'? I was induced to try a clear review of the whole story. Only the changing views 1See below, p. 676. 2See letter in the Athenzeum, 1874, p. 25. 8 Travels in Egypt (London, 1868). 4 The names given by Beke seem, as Burton (see below) already has pointed out, to rest on a misunder- standing. According to A Musil, ArabiaPetraea, II, 1, and his ‘‘ Karte von Arabia Petraea’’ (Vienna, 1907), the valley which from the northeast opens near Akaba is called Wadi el Jitm and the mouhtain north of it Jebel Harum. Beke’s Jebel Baghir (also spelled Barghir) seems to be in the Weli of Shekh Mhammad Baker, which is situated upon a hill to which the Wadi Radda leads from the Wadi el Jitm. Bideker, it is true, mentions even in the latest (7th) edition of his “ Palistina und Syrien’’ (1910), p. 197, the Jebel Barrir or Jebel en-Nar, 4 to 5 hours from Akaba. This notice goes back to Beke, as may be followed up through all the editions, and lacks, as there, a more accurate determination of the place. 5 The Land of Midian, T, 239. 6 Beke’s Discoveries of Sinai in Arabia and of Midian (London, 1878), pp. 392, 439. 7 Op. cit. and Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, 49 (1879), pp. 42f, 48f. 8 Monatsschrift fiir Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judenthums, 1878, pp. 337-360. Illustration of Jebel Arajifin Musil’s Arabia Petraea, IT, 2, p. 168. 8 Geographisches Jahrbuch, 1896, 1899, 1905. 10 Tbid., 1911, pp. 352ff. ee THE SINAI PROBLEM—OBERHUMMER. 673 about the site of the Biblical Sinai are here to be followed up. In this undertaking it is obviously presupposed that the Biblical account has at least in the geographical sense areal background. The question of its historical credibility does not concern me. Bernhard Stade ! thought: ‘‘What we now read about it in the Book of Exodus is really an early myth disguised as history and therefore equipped with historical and geographical details. To follow up the route taken by the Israelites is just as important as to investigate the one made by the Burgundians on their journey to King Etzel in the Nibelungen- sage.’ The journey of the Burgundians to King Etzel is mythical, but the description of the places along the Danube, where Vienna emerges from the obscurity of long centuries as a flourishing and fes- tive city, is real and tangible. Here, too, a remark of Moltke ? on the stage of the earliest Roman history holds good: ‘‘A narrative may be historically untrue, and yet as regards the location perfectly accurate.” From the Acta Sanctorum hundreds of examples might be quoted. Nearly as hopeless as Stade, who does not even put the question, “Where was Sinai located,’”’ but rather ‘“Where does the sacred legend of the Hebrews place Sinai,’ * the famous Biblical critic Julius Well- hausen‘* thus expresses himself: ‘‘We know not where Sinai was situated, and the Bible is hardly in agreement concerning it. To dispute about this question is characteristic of the dilettanti.” At the same time Wellhausen, considering Exodus, Chapters II seq., in- clines to the view that places Sinai in Midian. Other data for the various locations of Sinai are given in an excellent treatise recently published, ‘‘Where was Mount Sinai located,” by K. Miketta,® who himself reverts to the traditional standpoint. The most recent phase of the Sinai question is introduced through the more and more prevailing recognition that we have in Exodus, Chapter XIX, as also in other passages, the story of a great volcanic eruption. After Beke, who first broached this hypothesis, had aban- doned it, Hermann Gunkel, the Old Testament theologian and suc- cessor to Bernhard Stade at the University of Giessen, independently pointed out in numerous passages of his writings the volcanic charac- ter of the phenomena.’ In Exodus, Chapter XIX, we read: ‘‘A thick cloud was upon the mount; the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace; there were thunders and lightnings, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; the Lord descended upon the mountain in fire, and the whole mountain quaked greatly.” In another pas- 1 Geschichte des Volkes Israel, I (1887), 129, Anm 2. 2 Wanderbuch, p. 21. 3 Op. cit., pp. 132ff. 4 Prolegomena zur Geschichte Israels, 5th ed. (1899), p. 349. & Weidenauer Studien, ILI (1909), 77-123; IV (1911), 117-145. 6 First in Deutsche Literatur-Zeltung, 1903, p.3058. Similarly Ausgewiihlte Psalmen, p. 160 (2d ed., p. 117), and in “ Beitrige zur W eitererentwicklung der christlichen Religion’’ (Miinchen, 1905), p. 69, where also the supposed location in northwestern Arabia is referred to. 674 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. sage is read that ‘‘the mount burned with fire” (Deuteronomy, IX, 15), and that ‘‘the mountain burned with fire into the midst of heaven, with darkness, clouds, and thick darkness” (Deuteronomy, IV, 11). Furthermore, the Moses legend tells of a cloud (pillar) of smoke and fire which advanced through the land, and in which Jehovah’s glo- rious manifestation was beheld (Exodus, XIII, 21). The poetical recensions vary the same theme in the form of prophecy; they tell of glowing coals; of the breath of Jehovah, which resembles a burn- ing stream of sulphur, of mountains which melt like wax, ete. Tak- ing all this together, it can not be doubted that observations of nature are here the basis of the account, and that the usual explanation of the question that it was a thunderstorm is not conclusive. Sinai must have been a voleano. Moses led his people to a volcano, and in the terrible voleanic eruption the awful and majestic manifestation of Jehovah was experienced. Gunkel’s treatise, which later on he supplemented with the view that since there were no voleanoes on the Sinaitic Peninsula the Sinai of the Bible was to be sought for in the volcanic regions of northwest Arabia, received much approval, especially from Eduard Meyer,’ who says, ‘‘Gunkel has recognized that we have here the description of a volcanic eruption. It is true that there never was a volcano on the Sinaitic Peninsula, but that, as is well known, there were numerous volcanic regions (Harras) in western Arabia; the entire Hauran ter- ritory, including Trachonitis, is made up of them, and numerous ex- tensive Harras are located in southeast Midian, on the road from Tebuk through Medina as far as Mecca. There is nothing to oppose the assumption that one or several of these voleanoes may have been still active even in historic times. One of them was the authentic Sinai.’”’ Meyer remarks that already in 1872 the thought forced itself upon him that Sinai must have been a volcano, but that he abandoned it because it did not then occur to him to seek Sinai outside of the Sinaitic Peninsula. The recognition that the Sinai of the Jahvist (the Elohist calls the mountain of God ‘‘Horeb’’) must have been situated in Midian, Meyer ascribes (pp. 60, 67) to Wellhausen (see above). In connection with Gunkel’s explanation of Sinai as a volcano, Meyer assumes that Jehovah was originally a volcanic fire god and that he was indigenous in Midian. He says, ‘‘We have often recognized Jahve as a fire demon who in the darkness of night manifests his ma- jesty. The awful nature of the unapproachable fire god, who causes destruction to friend and foe, is also here (I Samuel, VI, 19) clearly recognizable, for instance, in the story of the ark (p. 70f.).” In con- nection with this Meyer would also ascribe the origin of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah to the voleanic Harras of Arabia, ‘‘in Palestine it was then transferred by the Israelites to the Dead Sea.”’ This view 1 Die Israeliten und ihre Nachbarstamme (Halle, 1906), p. 69. THE SINAI PROBLEM—OBERHUMMER. 675 would obviously create a new basis for an explanation of the catas- trophe of Sodom, about which there developed, from the standpoint of natural science, a controversy between M. Blanckenhorn ‘ and C. Diener ?. But we can not here enter into that question. The view that the Biblical Sinai was a volcano and should be looked for in Midian meanwhile also gained adherents elsewhere. Thus the well-known orientalist and Biblical scholar, Prof. Paul Haupt, of Baltimore,’ writes: ‘‘Mount Sinai can not be located on the Sinaitic Peninsula; it was a volcano in the land of Midian. Mount Sinai, the sacred mountain of Midian, must have been a voleano.’”’ He seems also to follow the view of Beke, since he repeats his mountain names, Jebel en-Ndr and Jebel al-Barghir (which have been proved to be erroneous), and looks for the volcano in the neighborhood of Akaba.‘ In his review of E. Meyer’s book, ‘‘Die Israeliten,’’ Gunkel ° reiterates the question, ‘“‘Should it not be possible for our geologists to discover the voleano which at that time must have been in erup- tion?’’ This problem seems now to have been solved through Prof. A. Musil and his companion, the geologist, L. Kober. At present we have only a brief preliminary notice by Musil on this subject.* “Thus we left the valley of al-Jizel and arrived at the wide plain of al-Jav, where we made unexpectedly, on the 2d of July, 1910, what is in my opinion the most important discovery during this exploring tour, namely, that of the genuine Biblical Mount Sinai. All our troubles were forgotten and we should have liked much to investigate more thoroughly ‘the grottoes of the Servants of Moses,’ but our guide would under no condition allow us to set foot upon the sacred voleano al-Bedr, and threatened to abandon us at once if we did not continue our way eastward. We had to yield, and I hoped that Allah would enable us to attain to-morrow what was impossible to-day. Our route led through the midst of the Harra regions ar-Rha and al-Awérez, so that we photographed pretty accurately nearly all the extinct volcanoes.” According to the map appended to this preliminary report the voleano Hala-l-Bedr is situated in latitude 27° 12’ north, longitude 37° 7’ east—that is, considerably farther south than Sinai was looked for even by the advocates of the Midian hypothesis. Accord- 1 Die Entstehung und Geschichte des Toten Meeres (Leipzig, 1896), aus Zeitschrift des Deutschen Paliis- tina-Vereins, 19, und Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palaestina Vereins, 21 (1898), pp. 65-83; Mitteilungen der K. K. Geographischen Gesellschaft, 1900, pp. 194-197. 2 Mitteilungen K. K. Geographischen Gesellschaft, 1897, pp. 1-22; 1899, pp. 14-18. The Burning Bush and the Origin of Judaism. Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 48 (1909), pp. 354f1.; Midian und Sinai, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlaendischen Gesellschaft, 63 (1909), pp. 506ff. 4 Op. cit., pp. 365, 368. 5 Deutsche Literatur-Zeitung, 1907, column 1928. 6 Anzeiger der Kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Philosophisch-Historische Klasse, 1911, No. 13, p. 154. 676 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1912. ing also to the brief accounts of L. Kober, the companion of Musil,? it is a recent volcanic territory: ‘‘The voleanoes which have been discovered in the region of Harrat-al-Awérez belong to the most recent formations of geological importance. They form a series with a north-south course. Their basalt covers and tofs fill the shallow Wadis of the Nubian sandstones.” This statement is important because it helps the assumption as to the possibility of a volcanic eruption there in historic times. As a matter of fact, such eruptions are attested, if not for this region, yet for the volcanic territory of Medina situated farther south. Seetzen called atten- tion to this in 1810 and quoted accounts of ‘‘earth fires” in 1242 and 1252 from an Arabic work on the history and topography of Medina (probably by Samhude).? Burckhardt,’ following the same source, discusses at great length a great volcanic eruption in 1256 at Jebel Ohod, north of Medina, which was so great that the fire could be seen in Jambo and Mecca, and even in Damascus the sun and moon were obscured by the smoke. Makrizi, the Egyptian historian, also attested this eruption. K. Ritter, in his still unsurpassed ‘‘Hrdkunde von Arabien,’’ collected all the material then accessible,‘ as he also correctly perceived the succession (or course) of the volcanic formations along the depression of the Red Sea, though he expresses himself on the subject in a now somewhat obsolete terminology: ° “The voleanic elevation line from Medina to Aden and Tadjurra lies in the main direction of the great earth cleft between Asia and Africa.” The region of this eruption seems to be the same as that which Yakut in his geographical lexicon, which is known as a main source of the Arabian geography, describes as Harrat-en-Nar, ‘‘the fire Harra.”’® It is, “according to Ijad, the same which, under the second Calif Omar, was afire, or at least in volcanic eruption. An identical one is recorded from pre-Islamic times in the tale of Halid b. Sinan, who is said to have extinguished its fire. It is especially remarkable as being the only volcanic region of Arabia recorded as having eruptions in historic time”’ (Loth, p. 378). Considering all this, the possibility must be admitted that in a more remote period of historic times one of the volcanoes situated farther north may also have been in eruption. More detailed data on the present condition of the volcano Hala-l-Bedr and the proba- bility of their being confirmed in geologically recent times will be 1 Anzeiger der K. Akademie der Wissensch., 1911, Mathematisch-naturwissenschaftliche Klasse, No. 13. 2 Lived 1465-1481 in Medina. See Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Literatur, II, pp. 173i. 3 Travels in Arabia, pp. 359ff. 4 Die Erdkunde, XIII (1847), pp. 165ff. . 5 Tbid., XII, p. 672. 6 O. Loth, die Vulkanregionen von Arabien nach Jakut, Zeitschrift der D. Morg. Ges., 22 (1868), pp. 365-382. Smithsonian Report, 1912.—Obernummer. ae 3: (52° Ost.v.Grw. [83 a = Kanal Kartenskizze | zur | Sinaifrage. 31° 50 100 150Km) | 30] i 29 \\ ! Sure = Tne, C : (Zz aod eo p 4 Zz 28 aie 22 go ol estos . al -Muazzom| = Fipaty, sejiany | aS Seidl or} = = 7 ala-l- —— Fisenbahn s 27 | anae- Musils Reise 1910 = Bee ee ~~~ Grenzen des Meeres f= in Fritherer Zeit. = 8 Welides Sejh Mhammad Baker=Q.Baghir. 32? 33 af 5 = SKETCH OF A MAP TO THE PROBLEM OF SINAI. re pepaty ea 4 a iF ee if , a) ae ad Se = * aaa, i" a 7 7 x an oe ae ee re i. a a eee el a _ . ane nee i= i — -. ve ~ 4 7 : : wr 7 ~ ns | = 7) ' : i j = THE SINAI PROBLEM—OBERHUMMER, 677 learned from the expected report of L. Kober, and the work on the Sinai problem in preparation by Musil will certainly also furnish new information. These publications will not be forestalled here, but there will only be stated what is already generally accessible. An elucidation of just this point seemed desirable because the full history and present status of the Sinai problem is not only unknown to wider circles, but even among those who are occupying them- selves with the question there seems to be uncertainty as regards the priority of the several theories, which is not to be wondered at considering the remoteness of some of the statements. If Musil’s localization proves correct, to him will be due the credit of having found the answer to the question introduced by Beke and Gunkel concerning the transferring of the mountain of the promulga- tion of the law from the Sinaitic peninsula to Arabia. The import- ance of this discovery can hardly be overestimated. Infinite pains and acumen have been spent in ascertaining the route of the Israelites through the Sinaitic peninsula, and the literature on that subject would fill a small library. Now all this has been ‘spoken to the winds.” The ‘“‘Red Sea,” after the miraculous crossing of which the desert wandering proper begins, ts not longer the northern pomt of the Gulf of Suez, but that of the Gulf of Akaba, which the Israelites, assuming their sojourn in Egypt (which some modern Biblical criti- cisms declare to be unhistoric), must have reached by the shortest route north of the peninsula. The search for the stopping places on the desert route may now be started in Midian, until now a closed country. This may appear to some as inconvenient, but it is hardly more so than Dérpfelds transferring of Ithaca to Leucas, which all of a sudden undermined all attempts to prove the stage of the Odyssee in all its details on a perfectly secure basis. Whether successfully, only the future will prove. In both cases there is encumbent on the defender of the new theory not only to furnish positive evidence for his view, but also to explain how the false localization and naming obtained currency. In any case we stand as regards the Sinai prob- lem at the beginning of a complete revolution of all traditional views. 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